Givin' Sawyer the day off (although he is mentioned)
Why not? (Sorry Sawyer.)
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Title: Skimming the Surface
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jack/Shannon
Disclaimer: The characters of Lost are not mine, I make no money off their fictional corruption.
Summary: Love in three parts. A tragedy.
A/N: Here I am, rolling the dice. Beware the Het my children and thanks for the support.
- - - - -
The beginning
- - - - -
She drops the back of her earring, and the most delicious pout forms on her lips. There's no other way to describe it, and there's nothing else Jack can do but get on his hands and knees in front of her and look.
She's the only woman he's ever met who would continue to accessorize on a deserted island, the only woman here who still makes an effort to impress. He tells her she doesn't have to, that she'd still be just as lovely with un-brushed hair and naked ears, that she'd still be sexy, even barefoot and disheveled.
He likes her disheveled. Likes when she lets her guard down, when she comes to him at night, with tired eyes and open arms. When she kisses him and begs him to make her feel less scared, more whole, something. Anything beyond hunger and sunburn and the bitter aftertaste of another argument with her brother.
Jack likes Shannon because he shouldn't like her, because she doesn't give him a choice. She's just there - so much easier than Kate.
She's just here - smiling down at him as he tries to find a tiny piece of plastic in a thousand granules of blinding white sand, all so she can keep a tacky earring she stole from the suitcase of a dead girl.
"You don't have to." She says, with a light laugh that is airy and pleased.
And it's that amusement and its underlying wonder that keeps Jack looking. Somehow he knows that Shannon is one person he can help, with little to no effort at all.
All it takes it focus, determination, time, and its there right in front of him. A little clear tube, with the smallest of holes down the middle, blending in, invisible unless you really look.
"Just want to make myself useful." Jack explains, because its true. She keeps him from going stir crazy.
"Well if we weren't in public I could find a few more reasons to keep you down there."
Shannon's tease is accompanied by a soft and quick touch, the woman taking her prize, letting her hand linger against his.
They don't advertise what they have, and if anyone suspects they haven't come out and asked. At least not him. Jack doesn't know what her and Boone argue about on those nights she comes to him a little broken, a little less than her normal shining self.
He doesn't want to know.
When Shannon walks away Jack expects it, watches her go without a word, feeling nothing at all.
- - - - -
The middle
- - - - -
They haven't come out and said what this is - if its anything at all. Jack just waits and does what he can, takes whatever comfort she can offer, and offers whatever she wants to take.
Shannon doesn't push, and maybe that is why he feels the pull. She doesn't try to get his attention. She's just there in his line of vision, off to the left or right, a ray of sunshine he has to turn away from to get anything done.
He likes the warmth she provides, the distraction, but thats all she can be ninety nine percent of the time. The rest of the day he has to resist.
"Hey-" Sometimes he has to give in a little. See her start, watch her come closer, surprised.
"Hey."
"Later?" Jack asks, even though its not a real question, even though he now knows she's willing if he's able.
Jack is sure there is nothing secret about her smile, that they all know what's going on. Boone looks at him like he's the devil, Kate avoids him completely, Sawyer's taken to calling him "Dr. Feelgood" whenever he gets the chance.
If Shannon minds, the speculation, the attitude, the escalated tension, she doesn't say. It doesn't stop her.
She nods, and Jack takes it for granted that everything is fine the way it is.
Later, she'll come with ease.
"Yes Jack, mmmm, please Jack, yeah yeah, right there." Whispered words of encouragement and instruction, a clear message that says everything Jack wants to hear.
Later, she'll be soft and tight, burning around him. Her dancer's body long and lean and perfect against. He'll like the way she doesn't hold anything back, the way she gives it all.
"Please." She'll say, and it won't mean please at all. Jack will hear the demand and follow orders.
"Harder."
She's blonde like Sarah, but the comparison stops there. Shannon's a tiger, not a kitten. She's passionate like Achara, but with no deception, no hidden secret waiting to ruin something simple.
It's what he likes most of all. The way Shannon's buttons are easily pushed, the fact that if this is a game, he at least knows the rules. What he'll get if he plays his cards right.
With Shannon melting into his touch and flooding his senses, Jack knows where he stands.
After, she'll give a consuming kiss that keeps the need from abating, that doesn't give him the chance to regret the weakness.
Now, he has to be strong instead.
Shannon doesn't ask Jack for promises. She walks away with a small wave, like she doesn't have a care in the world. And sometimes that feels too good to be true, like maybe there is something he's missing in the tilt of her head, something left out in all the things they don't say.
He keeps it the way he wants it and he's happy when Shannon doesn't try to make it anything else.
Jack doesn't ask her to stay, no matter how good she feels beside him, because he feels something, something he won't define.
- - - - -
The end
- - - - -
When Boone dies, when Jack can't save him, he thinks its over.
He waits and realizes that Shannon is not going to come, so he should call what he's doing, this useless display of pacing and hand wringing, something else.
It's then that he realizes she's not a guarantee. She's not his. That he never did anything to ensure either.
All Jack did was allow himself to skim the surface. All he did was watch her do the same because it was all that he could handle.
"It's not your fault." She says, when she proves him wrong and doesn't hide, doesn't run. "I don't blame you."
Jack is not relieved when it sounds like she believes it. He's not relieved when she collapses against him. Whether its the truth or a lie doesn't really matter. Either way he has to take her in his arms. He has to stagger to keep them both from falling.
"I'm sorry." Jack hears himself whisper, realizing that he is, truly, for more than not saving her brother.
"I loved him." Is the small and broken reply he gets as tears start, as they rack her body like they may never stop.
On some level Jack knew it already, knew that Shannon accepted him because he accepted her. Two of a kind. Both already too lost when they met to be found in each other.
He could look for days, pick up every piece of her broken heart, and still never be able to fix it, put it back together, heal the cracks too fine to see.
It's strange and tragic, how he can never learn from his mistakes. How he always ends up right back here, losing.
She pulls away and that is it exactly, another end.
Shannon pulls away and this time Jack knows he couldn't stop her if he tried. That this feeling is love and she's gone.
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+
Title: Skimming the Surface
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jack/Shannon
Disclaimer: The characters of Lost are not mine, I make no money off their fictional corruption.
Summary: Love in three parts. A tragedy.
A/N: Here I am, rolling the dice. Beware the Het my children and thanks for the support.
- - - - -
The beginning
- - - - -
She drops the back of her earring, and the most delicious pout forms on her lips. There's no other way to describe it, and there's nothing else Jack can do but get on his hands and knees in front of her and look.
She's the only woman he's ever met who would continue to accessorize on a deserted island, the only woman here who still makes an effort to impress. He tells her she doesn't have to, that she'd still be just as lovely with un-brushed hair and naked ears, that she'd still be sexy, even barefoot and disheveled.
He likes her disheveled. Likes when she lets her guard down, when she comes to him at night, with tired eyes and open arms. When she kisses him and begs him to make her feel less scared, more whole, something. Anything beyond hunger and sunburn and the bitter aftertaste of another argument with her brother.
Jack likes Shannon because he shouldn't like her, because she doesn't give him a choice. She's just there - so much easier than Kate.
She's just here - smiling down at him as he tries to find a tiny piece of plastic in a thousand granules of blinding white sand, all so she can keep a tacky earring she stole from the suitcase of a dead girl.
"You don't have to." She says, with a light laugh that is airy and pleased.
And it's that amusement and its underlying wonder that keeps Jack looking. Somehow he knows that Shannon is one person he can help, with little to no effort at all.
All it takes it focus, determination, time, and its there right in front of him. A little clear tube, with the smallest of holes down the middle, blending in, invisible unless you really look.
"Just want to make myself useful." Jack explains, because its true. She keeps him from going stir crazy.
"Well if we weren't in public I could find a few more reasons to keep you down there."
Shannon's tease is accompanied by a soft and quick touch, the woman taking her prize, letting her hand linger against his.
They don't advertise what they have, and if anyone suspects they haven't come out and asked. At least not him. Jack doesn't know what her and Boone argue about on those nights she comes to him a little broken, a little less than her normal shining self.
He doesn't want to know.
When Shannon walks away Jack expects it, watches her go without a word, feeling nothing at all.
- - - - -
The middle
- - - - -
They haven't come out and said what this is - if its anything at all. Jack just waits and does what he can, takes whatever comfort she can offer, and offers whatever she wants to take.
Shannon doesn't push, and maybe that is why he feels the pull. She doesn't try to get his attention. She's just there in his line of vision, off to the left or right, a ray of sunshine he has to turn away from to get anything done.
He likes the warmth she provides, the distraction, but thats all she can be ninety nine percent of the time. The rest of the day he has to resist.
"Hey-" Sometimes he has to give in a little. See her start, watch her come closer, surprised.
"Hey."
"Later?" Jack asks, even though its not a real question, even though he now knows she's willing if he's able.
Jack is sure there is nothing secret about her smile, that they all know what's going on. Boone looks at him like he's the devil, Kate avoids him completely, Sawyer's taken to calling him "Dr. Feelgood" whenever he gets the chance.
If Shannon minds, the speculation, the attitude, the escalated tension, she doesn't say. It doesn't stop her.
She nods, and Jack takes it for granted that everything is fine the way it is.
Later, she'll come with ease.
"Yes Jack, mmmm, please Jack, yeah yeah, right there." Whispered words of encouragement and instruction, a clear message that says everything Jack wants to hear.
Later, she'll be soft and tight, burning around him. Her dancer's body long and lean and perfect against. He'll like the way she doesn't hold anything back, the way she gives it all.
"Please." She'll say, and it won't mean please at all. Jack will hear the demand and follow orders.
"Harder."
She's blonde like Sarah, but the comparison stops there. Shannon's a tiger, not a kitten. She's passionate like Achara, but with no deception, no hidden secret waiting to ruin something simple.
It's what he likes most of all. The way Shannon's buttons are easily pushed, the fact that if this is a game, he at least knows the rules. What he'll get if he plays his cards right.
With Shannon melting into his touch and flooding his senses, Jack knows where he stands.
After, she'll give a consuming kiss that keeps the need from abating, that doesn't give him the chance to regret the weakness.
Now, he has to be strong instead.
Shannon doesn't ask Jack for promises. She walks away with a small wave, like she doesn't have a care in the world. And sometimes that feels too good to be true, like maybe there is something he's missing in the tilt of her head, something left out in all the things they don't say.
He keeps it the way he wants it and he's happy when Shannon doesn't try to make it anything else.
Jack doesn't ask her to stay, no matter how good she feels beside him, because he feels something, something he won't define.
- - - - -
The end
- - - - -
When Boone dies, when Jack can't save him, he thinks its over.
He waits and realizes that Shannon is not going to come, so he should call what he's doing, this useless display of pacing and hand wringing, something else.
It's then that he realizes she's not a guarantee. She's not his. That he never did anything to ensure either.
All Jack did was allow himself to skim the surface. All he did was watch her do the same because it was all that he could handle.
"It's not your fault." She says, when she proves him wrong and doesn't hide, doesn't run. "I don't blame you."
Jack is not relieved when it sounds like she believes it. He's not relieved when she collapses against him. Whether its the truth or a lie doesn't really matter. Either way he has to take her in his arms. He has to stagger to keep them both from falling.
"I'm sorry." Jack hears himself whisper, realizing that he is, truly, for more than not saving her brother.
"I loved him." Is the small and broken reply he gets as tears start, as they rack her body like they may never stop.
On some level Jack knew it already, knew that Shannon accepted him because he accepted her. Two of a kind. Both already too lost when they met to be found in each other.
He could look for days, pick up every piece of her broken heart, and still never be able to fix it, put it back together, heal the cracks too fine to see.
It's strange and tragic, how he can never learn from his mistakes. How he always ends up right back here, losing.
She pulls away and that is it exactly, another end.
Shannon pulls away and this time Jack knows he couldn't stop her if he tried. That this feeling is love and she's gone.