Lost fic: Games of Chance (Desmond/Penny)
Hunh. I wanted to find a write up of this from some "official source" but the essential element was always missing (dialog from LostHatch.com).
Desmond: It's over.
Locke: What do you mean, it's over? What... What... What are you doing? Are you leaving? Desmond? Wait. We can... We can fix the computer. Sayid is coming. He knows...
Desmond: Give him my best.
Locke: Wait, wait, wait... where are you... you can't leave. Where are you going?
Desmond: As far as I can run, brother.
While Locke is desperately trying to figure out what the hell's going on, Desmond scrambles through the hatch, stuffing a rather eclectic assortment of items into his backpack: food, Dharma serum and injector, a book, a stuffed bunny. Then he disappears into the jungle.
~~ Games of Chance ~~
He liked the way her hand fit within his. Not too small, there was no threat of her fingers being engulfed or overwhelmed, but comfortably. Just right.
Sometimes he had to focus on some small part of her - her hand, or the way her hair fell across her shoulder - because to try to take her in all at once and believe she was really here, with him, was impossible. Penny: beautiful, accomplished, witty, rich... He couldn't shake the nagging worry that the past three weeks had been nothing more than a lovely dream engendered by abstinence and the hard, narrow cot in his monastic cell.
Yet during those three weeks, there'd been only one day they hadn't seen each other.
In that time he'd found a room to rent, and work to keep body and soul together. The position was menial, to be honest, but he looked on it as having gotten a foot inside the door at the theatre. His earnings covered food and lodging, and, provided he was both careful and creative, allowed him to take Penny out. Obviously, he couldn't take her to the fancy, expensive places she was used to (and he couldn't abide the thought of letting her pay - agreeing to use her car was as much as his pride could tolerate), but she seemed to truly enjoy his choices.
Tonight, for instance, she was enchanted by the carnival; the look of happiness she wore was identical to that of the many small children dragging their parents from ride to food stall to game booth.
They'd ridden rides, some of them twice, and eaten their fill of hot dogs and cotton candy (she'd gotten a bit of the pink fluff on the tip of her nose; he'd kissed it away), when Penny took his arm and steered him toward the games.
"Oh, I love the games of chance!"
"Ah, I hate the games of chance."
"Come on, Des, let's play. You can win something for me, like one of those stuffed bears," she nodded her head toward a shelf of plush polar bears with lopsided grins.
"Maybe if there was something that required a bit of skill... "
"You are silly, aren't you? All right, let's find one you like."
Walking past the shooting gallery, the number bowl and skee ball, Desmond paid the barker at the next booth and proceeded to toss rings at bottles. He missed only one, and was rewarded with a floppy, outsized bear which he presented to Penny with a great deal of theatrical flourish and a shy smile. She accepted the gift with regal solemnity, then laughed and hugged him as they continued down the midway. Tilting his head as they walked, he nuzzled against her silky hair and smiled at the thought of how incongruous the toy would be in the elegant bedroom he imagined she slept in.
They were nearly at the end of the line of booths when Pen pushed her bear into Des's hands and ran lightly to a counter. She was already throwing darts by the time he reached her side, and clapped her hands when her last one burst a large red balloon near the center of the board. Penny collected her prize and, abruptly serious, handed it to Desmond.
"This is Mortimer. You've got to promise me you'll keep him with you. Seeing him will help you remember something very important."
"What is it I'll need help remembering?" Des wondered aloud while looking at the small bunny she'd thrust into his hands.
"When we're not together, he'll remind you that I love you."
Joy flooded his body and suddenly breathing was difficult. Looking up, he saw that joy reflected in Penny's clear blue eyes. He hugged the stuffed toy to his chest.
"I will cherish him. Always."
* * * * *
Desmond's smile slipped away as he gently placed Mortimer on the bunk in the Elizabeth's tiny cabin.
"You're looking a little the worse for wear, my friend," he told the small toy. "And it's a good thing you won't eat much, as it seems Kelvin was far more concerned about stocking the liquor cabinet than the larder. Still, I'm sure there's more than enough food here to see us safely to Fiji."
>^..^<
banner by isis2015
Desmond: It's over.
Locke: What do you mean, it's over? What... What... What are you doing? Are you leaving? Desmond? Wait. We can... We can fix the computer. Sayid is coming. He knows...
Desmond: Give him my best.
Locke: Wait, wait, wait... where are you... you can't leave. Where are you going?
Desmond: As far as I can run, brother.
While Locke is desperately trying to figure out what the hell's going on, Desmond scrambles through the hatch, stuffing a rather eclectic assortment of items into his backpack: food, Dharma serum and injector, a book, a stuffed bunny. Then he disappears into the jungle.
~~ Games of Chance ~~
He liked the way her hand fit within his. Not too small, there was no threat of her fingers being engulfed or overwhelmed, but comfortably. Just right.
Sometimes he had to focus on some small part of her - her hand, or the way her hair fell across her shoulder - because to try to take her in all at once and believe she was really here, with him, was impossible. Penny: beautiful, accomplished, witty, rich... He couldn't shake the nagging worry that the past three weeks had been nothing more than a lovely dream engendered by abstinence and the hard, narrow cot in his monastic cell.
Yet during those three weeks, there'd been only one day they hadn't seen each other.
In that time he'd found a room to rent, and work to keep body and soul together. The position was menial, to be honest, but he looked on it as having gotten a foot inside the door at the theatre. His earnings covered food and lodging, and, provided he was both careful and creative, allowed him to take Penny out. Obviously, he couldn't take her to the fancy, expensive places she was used to (and he couldn't abide the thought of letting her pay - agreeing to use her car was as much as his pride could tolerate), but she seemed to truly enjoy his choices.
Tonight, for instance, she was enchanted by the carnival; the look of happiness she wore was identical to that of the many small children dragging their parents from ride to food stall to game booth.
They'd ridden rides, some of them twice, and eaten their fill of hot dogs and cotton candy (she'd gotten a bit of the pink fluff on the tip of her nose; he'd kissed it away), when Penny took his arm and steered him toward the games.
"Oh, I love the games of chance!"
"Ah, I hate the games of chance."
"Come on, Des, let's play. You can win something for me, like one of those stuffed bears," she nodded her head toward a shelf of plush polar bears with lopsided grins.
"Maybe if there was something that required a bit of skill... "
"You are silly, aren't you? All right, let's find one you like."
Walking past the shooting gallery, the number bowl and skee ball, Desmond paid the barker at the next booth and proceeded to toss rings at bottles. He missed only one, and was rewarded with a floppy, outsized bear which he presented to Penny with a great deal of theatrical flourish and a shy smile. She accepted the gift with regal solemnity, then laughed and hugged him as they continued down the midway. Tilting his head as they walked, he nuzzled against her silky hair and smiled at the thought of how incongruous the toy would be in the elegant bedroom he imagined she slept in.
They were nearly at the end of the line of booths when Pen pushed her bear into Des's hands and ran lightly to a counter. She was already throwing darts by the time he reached her side, and clapped her hands when her last one burst a large red balloon near the center of the board. Penny collected her prize and, abruptly serious, handed it to Desmond.
"This is Mortimer. You've got to promise me you'll keep him with you. Seeing him will help you remember something very important."
"What is it I'll need help remembering?" Des wondered aloud while looking at the small bunny she'd thrust into his hands.
"When we're not together, he'll remind you that I love you."
Joy flooded his body and suddenly breathing was difficult. Looking up, he saw that joy reflected in Penny's clear blue eyes. He hugged the stuffed toy to his chest.
"I will cherish him. Always."
* * * * *
Desmond's smile slipped away as he gently placed Mortimer on the bunk in the Elizabeth's tiny cabin.
"You're looking a little the worse for wear, my friend," he told the small toy. "And it's a good thing you won't eat much, as it seems Kelvin was far more concerned about stocking the liquor cabinet than the larder. Still, I'm sure there's more than enough food here to see us safely to Fiji."
>^..^<
banner by isis2015