Connect 4
Title: Connect 4
Rating/warnings: G
Genre: future fic
Character/s: Hurley, Charlie
Spoilers: up to Something Nice Back Home
Summary: Charlie and Hurley play a game together at Santa Rosa.
Disclaimer: Lost isn’t mine. Now that my muse is back, expect a smattering of fics from me but probably nothing major. The show just isn’t doing all that much for me at the moment.
~*~
The atmosphere is tense, almost tangible as the two of them stare down at the small pile of coins between them. Which of them will be the first to crack? They can’t stay like this forever but the decision has to be made before they play…
“So…do you want red or yellow?”
“Red.”
“So I’m yellow.”
A layer of coins quickly coats the bottom - red, yellow, red, yellow, red - but in this game there can only be one winner and Hugo Reyes is the undisputed champion of Connect 4 at Santa Rosa.
“Ha,” Hurley says triumphantly, dropping another piece in and stopping his cohorts latest clumsy attempt to outstrip him. “Your turn.”
The plastic frame is wobbly on the table outside, the red and yellow chips divided up evenly between his latest challenger and himself. If ever there was a world championship in Connect 4 then he could win it without any problems. The only problem is that he’s gotten too good now and nobody here plays with him anymore, so when he gets visitors he always makes sure to rope them into it. Hurley is almost excited by the opportunity to play with somebody new - after all, if anyone could be sneaky enough to beat him it’d be this guy.
He might have to try and distract him.
“Hey Charlie?”
A long fingered hand pauses in its thoughtful tapping and a pair of blue eyes glance upwards, waiting for the question that will follow.
“Yeah Hurl?”
“You ever visit any of the others?”
Charlie considers him for a long moment, his chin propped on his hand then he reaches out to drop a piece into the frame, sits back and thinks some more.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Jack’s got his own dead people to deal with,” Charlie says languidly, considering the game. “Sun and I have a history - she’d probably freak out and try to stab me in the eye with something sharp before I got a chance to explain myself. Sayid would probably do the same and…you do realise it’s your turn don’t you?”
Yellow. Red. Yellow.
“What about Kate?”
Charlie pauses but doesn’t speak. He moves his hand further along the frame and then drops his coin. Hurley quickly counters him and the game continues.
“Why do you think I’d want to see Kate?”
“Well,” Hurley hesitates uncomfortably. “It’s just with Aaron and all I thought…”
“Why would I want to watch Kate taking care of Aaron?” Charlie asks coldly. “Why would I want to see everything I sacrificed myself for come to nothing?”
Hurley shies back a little as Charlie stabs a coin aggressively into the frame and then sits back and folds his arms. The frame wobbles in fear and then steadies and Hurley avoids Charlie’s eyes.
“I just thought…” Hurley offers tentatively along with his next move. “That maybe you’d sort of…you know…watch over him and stuff. For Claire.”
“I watch him sometimes,” Charlie murmurs, softening, his eyes downcast. “But not for her.”
“Oh. It’s your turn again.”
Moments later they tie and Charlie stands abruptly.
“I’m gonna go.”
“Hey wait,” Hurley reaches out and is surprised - as always - to find himself clutching at a leather sleeve and not thin air. “Don’t go. You only just got here.”
“I’ll be back soon enough,” Charlie says uncomfortably, peeling Hurley’s hand off. His fingers are surprisingly warm for a dead guy. “You’re like a Nanna sometimes - fretting about people going off and leaving you alone.”
“Just one more game?” Hurley implores him and Charlie sighs good naturedly and sits again.
“Fine,” he says but he smiles a little.
The coins clatter to the table and they divide them again.
“I’ll start?”
“Be my guest.”
Yellow. Red. Yellow. Red.
“Sorry about what I said before.”
Yellow.
“It’s fine Hurley.”
Red.
“Yeah except…it’s kind of not.”
Yellow. Red. Yellow.
Red.
“Yeah,” Charlie pauses to run his hands over his face and through his hair. “I know it’s not.”
“Maybe if you went and talked to Jack and Kate and stuff…”
“Not yet.”
“But…”
“It’s your turn.”
Yellow.
“I’m just saying…”
“And I’m telling you - not yet.”
Red.
“I win.”
“What?” Hurley gapes at the line of red coins framed in blue plastic. “How’d you do that? I’m like, champion at this game.”
But when he looks up, Charlie’s gone.
“Oh right,” he rolls his eyes. “Only one more game. Thanks dude.”
Picking up the box from beside him, Hurley sweeps the unused coins into it and then throws the frame in after it.
Charlie visits him almost every day now - they can play again tomorrow.
Rating/warnings: G
Genre: future fic
Character/s: Hurley, Charlie
Spoilers: up to Something Nice Back Home
Summary: Charlie and Hurley play a game together at Santa Rosa.
Disclaimer: Lost isn’t mine. Now that my muse is back, expect a smattering of fics from me but probably nothing major. The show just isn’t doing all that much for me at the moment.
~*~
The atmosphere is tense, almost tangible as the two of them stare down at the small pile of coins between them. Which of them will be the first to crack? They can’t stay like this forever but the decision has to be made before they play…
“So…do you want red or yellow?”
“Red.”
“So I’m yellow.”
A layer of coins quickly coats the bottom - red, yellow, red, yellow, red - but in this game there can only be one winner and Hugo Reyes is the undisputed champion of Connect 4 at Santa Rosa.
“Ha,” Hurley says triumphantly, dropping another piece in and stopping his cohorts latest clumsy attempt to outstrip him. “Your turn.”
The plastic frame is wobbly on the table outside, the red and yellow chips divided up evenly between his latest challenger and himself. If ever there was a world championship in Connect 4 then he could win it without any problems. The only problem is that he’s gotten too good now and nobody here plays with him anymore, so when he gets visitors he always makes sure to rope them into it. Hurley is almost excited by the opportunity to play with somebody new - after all, if anyone could be sneaky enough to beat him it’d be this guy.
He might have to try and distract him.
“Hey Charlie?”
A long fingered hand pauses in its thoughtful tapping and a pair of blue eyes glance upwards, waiting for the question that will follow.
“Yeah Hurl?”
“You ever visit any of the others?”
Charlie considers him for a long moment, his chin propped on his hand then he reaches out to drop a piece into the frame, sits back and thinks some more.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Jack’s got his own dead people to deal with,” Charlie says languidly, considering the game. “Sun and I have a history - she’d probably freak out and try to stab me in the eye with something sharp before I got a chance to explain myself. Sayid would probably do the same and…you do realise it’s your turn don’t you?”
Yellow. Red. Yellow.
“What about Kate?”
Charlie pauses but doesn’t speak. He moves his hand further along the frame and then drops his coin. Hurley quickly counters him and the game continues.
“Why do you think I’d want to see Kate?”
“Well,” Hurley hesitates uncomfortably. “It’s just with Aaron and all I thought…”
“Why would I want to watch Kate taking care of Aaron?” Charlie asks coldly. “Why would I want to see everything I sacrificed myself for come to nothing?”
Hurley shies back a little as Charlie stabs a coin aggressively into the frame and then sits back and folds his arms. The frame wobbles in fear and then steadies and Hurley avoids Charlie’s eyes.
“I just thought…” Hurley offers tentatively along with his next move. “That maybe you’d sort of…you know…watch over him and stuff. For Claire.”
“I watch him sometimes,” Charlie murmurs, softening, his eyes downcast. “But not for her.”
“Oh. It’s your turn again.”
Moments later they tie and Charlie stands abruptly.
“I’m gonna go.”
“Hey wait,” Hurley reaches out and is surprised - as always - to find himself clutching at a leather sleeve and not thin air. “Don’t go. You only just got here.”
“I’ll be back soon enough,” Charlie says uncomfortably, peeling Hurley’s hand off. His fingers are surprisingly warm for a dead guy. “You’re like a Nanna sometimes - fretting about people going off and leaving you alone.”
“Just one more game?” Hurley implores him and Charlie sighs good naturedly and sits again.
“Fine,” he says but he smiles a little.
The coins clatter to the table and they divide them again.
“I’ll start?”
“Be my guest.”
Yellow. Red. Yellow. Red.
“Sorry about what I said before.”
Yellow.
“It’s fine Hurley.”
Red.
“Yeah except…it’s kind of not.”
Yellow. Red. Yellow.
Red.
“Yeah,” Charlie pauses to run his hands over his face and through his hair. “I know it’s not.”
“Maybe if you went and talked to Jack and Kate and stuff…”
“Not yet.”
“But…”
“It’s your turn.”
Yellow.
“I’m just saying…”
“And I’m telling you - not yet.”
Red.
“I win.”
“What?” Hurley gapes at the line of red coins framed in blue plastic. “How’d you do that? I’m like, champion at this game.”
But when he looks up, Charlie’s gone.
“Oh right,” he rolls his eyes. “Only one more game. Thanks dude.”
Picking up the box from beside him, Hurley sweeps the unused coins into it and then throws the frame in after it.
Charlie visits him almost every day now - they can play again tomorrow.