Luau Fic for Falafel and Kayim.
Title: Slam!
Character: Boone, Shannon, Charlie, Hurley, Sawyer
Rating: PG 13
Words: 1400
Warning: Set sometime around Solitary.
Summary: My apologies for its lateness. This fic is for Queen falafel_musings who wanted the S1 ensemble. It won Best Humour Fic in September 2008 and Feel Good Fic of the Year in Best Damn Fic of 2008 at lost_fic_awards.
banner by janie_tangerine
x x x
“Listen, learn, don't get involved. I want lists in 3 days. Go.”
-Ben, Tale of Two Cities
x x x
“I’m sooo bored.” Shannon flips from her stomach onto her back, and peeks under the edge of her bikini bottom to check her tan line.
Boone pauses in his whittling and points his stick turned spear at her. “Shan, you used to pay thousands of dollars to do just this every spring break.”
“Crash in my plane? Get eaten by bears? Stop breathing?”
“Lie on the beach all day, doing nothing.”
“Pfff …,” she dismisses Boone and settles back onto her towel, shifting gears. “God, they’re sooo annoying.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.” Shannon tosses her head in the direction of the laughter. “But those two morons especially.”
Boone glances up to see Hurley and Charlie break their huddle. “They’re coming over.”
“Make them go away,” she huffs, while at the same time repositioning herself in a pose suitable for a Playboy centrefold.
“Hello, Boone. Shannon,” Charlie says, with a wide grin. Beside him, Hurley stood, looking torn between embarrassment and curiosity.
“Hello,” Boone replies.
“Have you been doing some writing, mate?”
“What?” Boone asks.
“You know, making a list, checking it twice.”
“Charlie, let’s just leave them alone,” Hurley says sheepishly.
“Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice?”
Boone sticks his spear into the sand and stands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you’re not the author of this?” Charlie unfolds a piece of loose leaf and holds it in front of his chest. The handwriting was atrocious and a lot of the ink was smeared, still Boone could make out that it was a list of some sort with the words good scrawled across the top. Charlie turns the paper around to show him another list on the other side under the word bad.
Boone shakes his head, not understanding. “What is this?”
“Number one in the ‘good’ column is Dr. Jack Shephard: handsome, a surgeon,” Charlie reads from the sheet in a voice of a smarmy American game show host. “Lacks an instinct to lead but people follow him anyway.”
Boone’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you think I wrote that?”
“Um…cause you like Jack?” Hurley offers casually, kicking the sand with one foot, causing Shannon to snicker in the background.
“Cause you’re one of the only people we know who’s not on either list,” Charlie explains, handing the piece of paper over. “But your sister is.”
Boone skims the lists finding Shannon on the good side squeezed in between Walt who was described as asks a lot of questions, independent and Rose who was called a believer, not afraid to speak her mind.
“Shannon Rutherford: Blonde and beautiful…,” Boone says, then catches himself before he read the rest out loud.
“That’s it?” Shannon asks, sounding pleased with herself. “Whoever wrote that needs to get a life, but at least they have good taste.”
“Don’t forget the part about wide hips,” Charlie chimes in.
“What?” Before Boone could mediate the situation, Shannon had jumped up and snarled at Charlie, “Wide hips? You think I have wide hips?”
“No, no, no, you have lovely hips.” Charlie’s bravado vanishes in face of Shannon’s fury. “Not that I looked, mind you.”
Boone grabs hold of his sister’s shoulders before she could move onto a physical attack. “Shannon, calm down.”
“Wide hips!”
“Don’t sweat it. At least you’re in the author’s good books. According to this, I’m…” Charlie’s fingers curl into air quotes. “Not worth the trouble.”
Shannon steals the crumpled paper from Boone and scans it. Her lips move as she silently reads through the list of names. When she’s done, she explodes again, jerking her thumb at Hurley. “He’s described as dumb and I’m the one who’s called fat?”
“It says dim, not dumb,” Hurley sputters.
“I’m not on either list,” Boone comments, reading over Shannon’s shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re a dork,” Shannon says, still stewing. “Where did you get this?”
“Hurley found it in a plastic baggie under a rock in the jungle.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Sawyer strolls up, a mango in each hand. “All this yammering I can’t hear myself think.”
“Ah Sawyer, right?” Charlie cranes his neck to consult the paper still clutched in Shannon’s fists. “Lazy and Selfish.”
“What’d you say, boss?”
“Not me. The list.” Charlie points to the paper. “Lazy and selfish, but also a survivor. You’re definitely on the bad side, but it could be worse. See what is says for Nikki and Paulo.”
“Who the hell are Nikki and Paulo?” Sawyer and Shannon ask at the same time.
“Probably fertile but they shouldn’t procreate,” Hurley contributes. “They’re on the bad list too, along with Sayid, Kate, and Michael.”
Sawyer tosses his mangos to Hurley and plucks the paper from Shannon’s hand. He studies it for a minute, then smirks. “The girl next door who probably killed the girl next door. That sounds about right for Freckles.” He skims it some more. “Too intelligent. Oh sure, it’s Lawrence of Arabia’s brains that doom him, not his bamboo under the nails trick. Not worth the trouble, that’s for sure, Shorty.”
“Hey! At least I’m not unnecessary in the grander scheme of things like Michael.”
“Same difference,” Sawyer shrugs.
“Even the dog made the list,” Boone remarks to no one in particular.
“So who wrote this?” Hurley asks. “Do you think it could be that guy Locke? I mean he seems to have eyes in the back of his head.”
Charlie shakes his head. “Nah, can’t be Mr. Made himself right at home/Wants to be a leader but has yet to be followed. People generally aren’t that perceptive about themselves.”
“Maybe, it’s that science teacher. He was going on and on and on about how annoying everyone was yesterday,” Shannon suggests
“Just like you were a few minutes ago?” Boone mumbles.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I bet this is Dr. Arzt's.” Charlie nods vigorously. “That’s why there’s all those stars next to Claire’s name. He sat next to her on the plane and really likes-.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Sawyer interrupts. “This ain’t no list of teacher’s pets. This is Brave New World shit. Someone’s thinking about the future and who they want in it. That’s why they put the happy as long as they’re together Koreans on top of the good list. They want them to settle in and have babies. And apparently Sweetheart,” he addresses Shannon, “you’ve got good birthing hips. Now we just need to find you a mate.”
Shannon wraps her arms around her waist, avoiding her hips. “Gross.”
“And if you like them lazy and selfish, you know where to find me.” Sawyer lets the paper drop to the sand. He takes his mangos back from Hurley and saunters off back to his shelter.
Boone retrieves the list and searches both sides again before handing it to Hurley.
“I don’t want it.”
“Just go put it back where you found it.” Boone holds the paper out, but Hurley still refuses to take it.
“It’s cursed. That could be like our futures or something.”
Boone looks down at it one more time and tries to ignore the chill that runs up his spine. “I guess we should show it to Jack.”
“Good idea.” Charlie pats Boone on the shoulder, then takes Hurley’s arm and begins to pull him away. “You do that and if you find your name in invisible ink, let us know.”
Boone folds the list and tucks it into the front pocket of his jeans, and stares out into the ocean. He thought Shannon had settled back on her towel and is surprised to find her standing behind him.
“Hey, it doesn’t mean anything. If the jerk who wrote that doesn’t see how good you are, then I must be fat.”
“It’s like I’m not even here.”
“You’re here, Boone.”
Shannon drapes one arm around his waist and pulls him to her. They stand there for a few minutes leaning into each other, then she reaches into his pocket and fishes out the list. Shannon walks over to the water, goes in up to her calves, and proceeds to rip up the paper. The pieces dance in the air before they get caught in the waves and are dragged out to sea.
“There,” she says, wiping her hands.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
x x x
Character: Boone, Shannon, Charlie, Hurley, Sawyer
Rating: PG 13
Words: 1400
Warning: Set sometime around Solitary.
Summary: My apologies for its lateness. This fic is for Queen falafel_musings who wanted the S1 ensemble. It won Best Humour Fic in September 2008 and Feel Good Fic of the Year in Best Damn Fic of 2008 at lost_fic_awards.
banner by janie_tangerine
x x x
“Listen, learn, don't get involved. I want lists in 3 days. Go.”
-Ben, Tale of Two Cities
x x x
“I’m sooo bored.” Shannon flips from her stomach onto her back, and peeks under the edge of her bikini bottom to check her tan line.
Boone pauses in his whittling and points his stick turned spear at her. “Shan, you used to pay thousands of dollars to do just this every spring break.”
“Crash in my plane? Get eaten by bears? Stop breathing?”
“Lie on the beach all day, doing nothing.”
“Pfff …,” she dismisses Boone and settles back onto her towel, shifting gears. “God, they’re sooo annoying.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.” Shannon tosses her head in the direction of the laughter. “But those two morons especially.”
Boone glances up to see Hurley and Charlie break their huddle. “They’re coming over.”
“Make them go away,” she huffs, while at the same time repositioning herself in a pose suitable for a Playboy centrefold.
“Hello, Boone. Shannon,” Charlie says, with a wide grin. Beside him, Hurley stood, looking torn between embarrassment and curiosity.
“Hello,” Boone replies.
“Have you been doing some writing, mate?”
“What?” Boone asks.
“You know, making a list, checking it twice.”
“Charlie, let’s just leave them alone,” Hurley says sheepishly.
“Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice?”
Boone sticks his spear into the sand and stands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you’re not the author of this?” Charlie unfolds a piece of loose leaf and holds it in front of his chest. The handwriting was atrocious and a lot of the ink was smeared, still Boone could make out that it was a list of some sort with the words good scrawled across the top. Charlie turns the paper around to show him another list on the other side under the word bad.
Boone shakes his head, not understanding. “What is this?”
“Number one in the ‘good’ column is Dr. Jack Shephard: handsome, a surgeon,” Charlie reads from the sheet in a voice of a smarmy American game show host. “Lacks an instinct to lead but people follow him anyway.”
Boone’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you think I wrote that?”
“Um…cause you like Jack?” Hurley offers casually, kicking the sand with one foot, causing Shannon to snicker in the background.
“Cause you’re one of the only people we know who’s not on either list,” Charlie explains, handing the piece of paper over. “But your sister is.”
Boone skims the lists finding Shannon on the good side squeezed in between Walt who was described as asks a lot of questions, independent and Rose who was called a believer, not afraid to speak her mind.
“Shannon Rutherford: Blonde and beautiful…,” Boone says, then catches himself before he read the rest out loud.
“That’s it?” Shannon asks, sounding pleased with herself. “Whoever wrote that needs to get a life, but at least they have good taste.”
“Don’t forget the part about wide hips,” Charlie chimes in.
“What?” Before Boone could mediate the situation, Shannon had jumped up and snarled at Charlie, “Wide hips? You think I have wide hips?”
“No, no, no, you have lovely hips.” Charlie’s bravado vanishes in face of Shannon’s fury. “Not that I looked, mind you.”
Boone grabs hold of his sister’s shoulders before she could move onto a physical attack. “Shannon, calm down.”
“Wide hips!”
“Don’t sweat it. At least you’re in the author’s good books. According to this, I’m…” Charlie’s fingers curl into air quotes. “Not worth the trouble.”
Shannon steals the crumpled paper from Boone and scans it. Her lips move as she silently reads through the list of names. When she’s done, she explodes again, jerking her thumb at Hurley. “He’s described as dumb and I’m the one who’s called fat?”
“It says dim, not dumb,” Hurley sputters.
“I’m not on either list,” Boone comments, reading over Shannon’s shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re a dork,” Shannon says, still stewing. “Where did you get this?”
“Hurley found it in a plastic baggie under a rock in the jungle.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Sawyer strolls up, a mango in each hand. “All this yammering I can’t hear myself think.”
“Ah Sawyer, right?” Charlie cranes his neck to consult the paper still clutched in Shannon’s fists. “Lazy and Selfish.”
“What’d you say, boss?”
“Not me. The list.” Charlie points to the paper. “Lazy and selfish, but also a survivor. You’re definitely on the bad side, but it could be worse. See what is says for Nikki and Paulo.”
“Who the hell are Nikki and Paulo?” Sawyer and Shannon ask at the same time.
“Probably fertile but they shouldn’t procreate,” Hurley contributes. “They’re on the bad list too, along with Sayid, Kate, and Michael.”
Sawyer tosses his mangos to Hurley and plucks the paper from Shannon’s hand. He studies it for a minute, then smirks. “The girl next door who probably killed the girl next door. That sounds about right for Freckles.” He skims it some more. “Too intelligent. Oh sure, it’s Lawrence of Arabia’s brains that doom him, not his bamboo under the nails trick. Not worth the trouble, that’s for sure, Shorty.”
“Hey! At least I’m not unnecessary in the grander scheme of things like Michael.”
“Same difference,” Sawyer shrugs.
“Even the dog made the list,” Boone remarks to no one in particular.
“So who wrote this?” Hurley asks. “Do you think it could be that guy Locke? I mean he seems to have eyes in the back of his head.”
Charlie shakes his head. “Nah, can’t be Mr. Made himself right at home/Wants to be a leader but has yet to be followed. People generally aren’t that perceptive about themselves.”
“Maybe, it’s that science teacher. He was going on and on and on about how annoying everyone was yesterday,” Shannon suggests
“Just like you were a few minutes ago?” Boone mumbles.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I bet this is Dr. Arzt's.” Charlie nods vigorously. “That’s why there’s all those stars next to Claire’s name. He sat next to her on the plane and really likes-.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Sawyer interrupts. “This ain’t no list of teacher’s pets. This is Brave New World shit. Someone’s thinking about the future and who they want in it. That’s why they put the happy as long as they’re together Koreans on top of the good list. They want them to settle in and have babies. And apparently Sweetheart,” he addresses Shannon, “you’ve got good birthing hips. Now we just need to find you a mate.”
Shannon wraps her arms around her waist, avoiding her hips. “Gross.”
“And if you like them lazy and selfish, you know where to find me.” Sawyer lets the paper drop to the sand. He takes his mangos back from Hurley and saunters off back to his shelter.
Boone retrieves the list and searches both sides again before handing it to Hurley.
“I don’t want it.”
“Just go put it back where you found it.” Boone holds the paper out, but Hurley still refuses to take it.
“It’s cursed. That could be like our futures or something.”
Boone looks down at it one more time and tries to ignore the chill that runs up his spine. “I guess we should show it to Jack.”
“Good idea.” Charlie pats Boone on the shoulder, then takes Hurley’s arm and begins to pull him away. “You do that and if you find your name in invisible ink, let us know.”
Boone folds the list and tucks it into the front pocket of his jeans, and stares out into the ocean. He thought Shannon had settled back on her towel and is surprised to find her standing behind him.
“Hey, it doesn’t mean anything. If the jerk who wrote that doesn’t see how good you are, then I must be fat.”
“It’s like I’m not even here.”
“You’re here, Boone.”
Shannon drapes one arm around his waist and pulls him to her. They stand there for a few minutes leaning into each other, then she reaches into his pocket and fishes out the list. Shannon walks over to the water, goes in up to her calves, and proceeds to rip up the paper. The pieces dance in the air before they get caught in the waves and are dragged out to sea.
“There,” she says, wiping her hands.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
x x x