You've Got Mail
Another drabble written for me by a friend.
Author: augrah
Fandom: Lost
Rating: PG
Drabble Dedication: For katje0711
Summary: Locke and Des never knew they had a previous connection. Crack!fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, etc. For entertainment only.
~o~
DAY THREE
DickensDick: Finally! I was hoping you would come online today.
SoNotHelen: Were you waiting? :)
DickensDick: Of course not. You should know by now that my life is far too busy to sit around waiting for you.
SoNotHelen: I don’t know you at all. You haven’t even told me what you do for a living.
DickensDick: Neither have you,
SoNotHelen: I’ll give you that. So, DickensDick, read anything good lately?
DickensDick: Hey hey now. Let’s not start making jokes about Mr Charles Dickens. He was a master and we, as mere mortals, can never come close to his brilliance.
SoNotHelen: And calling yourself DickensDick isn’t a joke.
DickensDick: Not at all. It’s flattery. Any man would be proud to have the honor of being known by his size.
SoNotHelen: I’m sure good ole Charles appreciates it.
DickensDick: While we’re talking about names, yours is not exactly eloquent either. Can’t even tell if you are a man or a woman.
SoNotHelen: Would it make a difference?
DickensDick: Not sure. But it does make me wonder why you hate this Helen so much that not only are you not Helen, but you are so not Helen.
SoNotHelen: I’m afraid that’s a story for another day, my friend.
DickensDick: Fair enough. I have to go anyway. I hear work calling to me. Annoying and persistent all at once.
SoNotHelen: I agree. Some days it feels like all I am doing is pushing buttons all day and never getting results.
DickensDick: You have no idea.
~o~
DAY SEVENTEEN
SoNotHelen: And then, all at once, everything seemed to be gone. Mother, father, Helen, freedom. All I wanted was a family and all I got was this stupid chair.
DickensDick: You seem to be soldiering on quite well, brother. I’m not sure I would want to keep living if I lost everything.
SoNotHelen: No. No, it’s strange in a way. A part of me is gone, that part that needed connection and family. But I found within myself another person. A man who was physically paralysed but had enormous mental able. So many things I would never had done if it hadn’t been for this.
DickensDick: Like the walkabout you were telling me about?
SoNotHelen: Yeah.
DickensDick: Well I hope you get a chance to do it. I think it would make you happy.
SoNotHelen: Happiness is not the goal.
DickensDick: Ah, but it is always a nice side effect, isn’t it? :D
SoNotHelen: Yes. Yes it is.
~o~
DAY FORTY-TWO
DickensDick: Have you ever wondered?
SoNotHelen: Wondered what?
DickensDick: I dunno. Have you ever thought about other men? Not just as friends but as real companions.
SoNotHelen: To be honest, once, when I was very young. But it was nothing more than thoughts.
DickensDick: Would you?
SoNotHelen: With you?
DickensDick: Yes.
DickensDick: No.
DickensDick: I don’t know.
SoNotHelen: And Penny?
DickensDick: I’ll always love her. She is everything. Everything. So much of me is already in her, no matter the distance that keeps us apart.
SoNotHelen: Like the distance between us?
DickensDick: Afraid so.
SoNotHelen: Well, for what it’s worth, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting you in person. I think I would like that very much.
DickensDick: So would I.
SoNotHelen: So, DickensDick, what do you look like? :)
~o~
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT
SoNotHelen: It’s like I can actually feel my fingers running through your hair.
DickensDick: You’re lucky. All I to imagine is your bald head!
SoNotHelen: I want to meet you.
DickensDick: I know.
SoNotHelen: I am going on my walkabout. I am going to do it. And I think I’m almost ready. Come with me.
DickensDick: Oh, I wish I could.
SoNotHelen: Come on! I don’t even know where you live. I really don’t know anything about you. I don’t know but I want it anyway. Please. Do this with me.
DickensDick: We will meet. Someday. I can feel it.
SoNotHelen: Well I hope you are right. Because right now, you and the walkabout are the only things keeping me going.
DickensDick: And for me, it’s you and Penny.
SoNotHelen: It would never work out anyway.
DickensDick: Not a chance it could.
SoNotHelen: But I’d try.
DickensDick: Me too.
~o~
NOVEMBER 5, 2004
John Locke stepped silently in the corridor, his shoes removed and his socks dirty. He knew someone was here. He could feel it. He slowly turned a corner, ending up peering into a spherical room filled with computer equipment.
It was at that moment that they saw each other.
It was improbable. It didn’t make sense. But he knew it. Knew it right away. Before him stood the man he had dreamt about, the hair he had imagined between his fingers so many times.
Desmond Hume was thinking the same thing. He had been alone for so long, alone and malnourished and sleep-deprived. He heart the alarm ringing in his head every moment of the day, even when he knew he was surrounded by nothing but silence.
Silence is what he felt now. Silence because before him stood the very image of his desires. The strong face, the hairless scalp. Even though there was no wheelchair, Desmond knew.
“Are you him?”
~o~
FIN
Author: augrah
Fandom: Lost
Rating: PG
Drabble Dedication: For katje0711
Summary: Locke and Des never knew they had a previous connection. Crack!fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, etc. For entertainment only.
~o~
DAY THREE
DickensDick: Finally! I was hoping you would come online today.
SoNotHelen: Were you waiting? :)
DickensDick: Of course not. You should know by now that my life is far too busy to sit around waiting for you.
SoNotHelen: I don’t know you at all. You haven’t even told me what you do for a living.
DickensDick: Neither have you,
SoNotHelen: I’ll give you that. So, DickensDick, read anything good lately?
DickensDick: Hey hey now. Let’s not start making jokes about Mr Charles Dickens. He was a master and we, as mere mortals, can never come close to his brilliance.
SoNotHelen: And calling yourself DickensDick isn’t a joke.
DickensDick: Not at all. It’s flattery. Any man would be proud to have the honor of being known by his size.
SoNotHelen: I’m sure good ole Charles appreciates it.
DickensDick: While we’re talking about names, yours is not exactly eloquent either. Can’t even tell if you are a man or a woman.
SoNotHelen: Would it make a difference?
DickensDick: Not sure. But it does make me wonder why you hate this Helen so much that not only are you not Helen, but you are so not Helen.
SoNotHelen: I’m afraid that’s a story for another day, my friend.
DickensDick: Fair enough. I have to go anyway. I hear work calling to me. Annoying and persistent all at once.
SoNotHelen: I agree. Some days it feels like all I am doing is pushing buttons all day and never getting results.
DickensDick: You have no idea.
~o~
DAY SEVENTEEN
SoNotHelen: And then, all at once, everything seemed to be gone. Mother, father, Helen, freedom. All I wanted was a family and all I got was this stupid chair.
DickensDick: You seem to be soldiering on quite well, brother. I’m not sure I would want to keep living if I lost everything.
SoNotHelen: No. No, it’s strange in a way. A part of me is gone, that part that needed connection and family. But I found within myself another person. A man who was physically paralysed but had enormous mental able. So many things I would never had done if it hadn’t been for this.
DickensDick: Like the walkabout you were telling me about?
SoNotHelen: Yeah.
DickensDick: Well I hope you get a chance to do it. I think it would make you happy.
SoNotHelen: Happiness is not the goal.
DickensDick: Ah, but it is always a nice side effect, isn’t it? :D
SoNotHelen: Yes. Yes it is.
~o~
DAY FORTY-TWO
DickensDick: Have you ever wondered?
SoNotHelen: Wondered what?
DickensDick: I dunno. Have you ever thought about other men? Not just as friends but as real companions.
SoNotHelen: To be honest, once, when I was very young. But it was nothing more than thoughts.
DickensDick: Would you?
SoNotHelen: With you?
DickensDick: Yes.
DickensDick: No.
DickensDick: I don’t know.
SoNotHelen: And Penny?
DickensDick: I’ll always love her. She is everything. Everything. So much of me is already in her, no matter the distance that keeps us apart.
SoNotHelen: Like the distance between us?
DickensDick: Afraid so.
SoNotHelen: Well, for what it’s worth, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting you in person. I think I would like that very much.
DickensDick: So would I.
SoNotHelen: So, DickensDick, what do you look like? :)
~o~
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT
SoNotHelen: It’s like I can actually feel my fingers running through your hair.
DickensDick: You’re lucky. All I to imagine is your bald head!
SoNotHelen: I want to meet you.
DickensDick: I know.
SoNotHelen: I am going on my walkabout. I am going to do it. And I think I’m almost ready. Come with me.
DickensDick: Oh, I wish I could.
SoNotHelen: Come on! I don’t even know where you live. I really don’t know anything about you. I don’t know but I want it anyway. Please. Do this with me.
DickensDick: We will meet. Someday. I can feel it.
SoNotHelen: Well I hope you are right. Because right now, you and the walkabout are the only things keeping me going.
DickensDick: And for me, it’s you and Penny.
SoNotHelen: It would never work out anyway.
DickensDick: Not a chance it could.
SoNotHelen: But I’d try.
DickensDick: Me too.
~o~
NOVEMBER 5, 2004
John Locke stepped silently in the corridor, his shoes removed and his socks dirty. He knew someone was here. He could feel it. He slowly turned a corner, ending up peering into a spherical room filled with computer equipment.
It was at that moment that they saw each other.
It was improbable. It didn’t make sense. But he knew it. Knew it right away. Before him stood the man he had dreamt about, the hair he had imagined between his fingers so many times.
Desmond Hume was thinking the same thing. He had been alone for so long, alone and malnourished and sleep-deprived. He heart the alarm ringing in his head every moment of the day, even when he knew he was surrounded by nothing but silence.
Silence is what he felt now. Silence because before him stood the very image of his desires. The strong face, the hairless scalp. Even though there was no wheelchair, Desmond knew.
“Are you him?”
~o~
FIN