Lost fanfic
Title: The Chick Fic
Author: sedauny
Fandom: Lost
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine
Summary: Rock stars are chick magnets. Charlie tests this theory and brings the results home to show off.
Notes: Set in the second season. Total fluff--including some of the guest characters (you'll know which ones)
Danielle saw tracks crossing through her territory. She froze for a moment, comparing their line to her mental map of the area, then relaxed. They would run between the new people’s camp at the beach and the territory beyond hers, where she didn’t like to go, for fear of the Others. She headed for her trap at the two trees. That one was the closest to the new camp and she was hoping to find an offering there. The one of the newcomers most likely to cross through her land on a gathering trip was the man Sayid called Charlie, the baby’s father, l’Anglais, as Danielle thought of him. He usually left her a “toll” at the trap of the two trees, in return for not getting shot as he trespassed. (Not that she would have wasted the ammunition on something that was no threat, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Food that she didn’t have to gather was always welcome.)
Two trees, one net, no food. Damn. The tracks passed by the trees and from their spacing, Danielle thought the man had been moving briskly-not running, but not slowing down for anything. He was taking the established path, not breaking new ground for shortcuts, and the trail was very fresh. Curious, Danielle decided to see if she could catch up to him and watch to see why the hurry.
A quick pace and some well-chosen shortcuts enabled Danielle to catch up with her quarry as he entered the last patch of rough ground above the beach camp. She could see he wore a stuffed knapsack, but he was also carrying two crude baskets suspended from either end of a bamboo pole balanced on his shoulder. He was taking care to keep the baskets level and trying not to let them swing around much. Danielle had almost decided to speak to him when he was hailed by a new voice and Danielle ducked further into cover. The American drawl belonged to one of the men whose name she didn’t know, the one whom the other castaways treated warily and with some disdain. She didn’t want to know him: he was only trouble. She strained to hear, but couldn’t make out any words. The American was asking something and Charlie answered with a confident impudence that, in Danielle’s opinion, raised him half a point for courage and lowered him half a point for foolhardiness. Charlie continued towards the beach, asking something over his shoulder; Danielle caught the name “Hurley”and turned with pleasure for her short cut to the section of beach near Hurley’s tent. There was plenty of cover there and she would be able to hide herself and eavesdrop in safety.
Hurley was farther from his tent than she had expected-almost at the edge of the beach-but Sayid was with him and Danielle was so happy to see both her favorites that she didn’t mind the extra scramble to catch up and find cover. Charlie was carefully settling his burdens on the sand and talking non-stop while the blond American, who had followed him down the beach, was hovering a little ways back, trying not to look as curious as he was. As Charlie opened his baskets, all of them, Danielle included, craned to see what would emerge.
Danielle slapped a hand over her own mouth to stifle her laughter, but she needn’t have bothered-the men were laughing so hard, they couldn’t have heard anyway. Baby chickens were running around in the sand, fluttering and pecking and looking confused by their new home. How had he found so many? Danielle thought there must be two nest’s worth, at least-yes, some were much larger than the others. She had caught wild chickens to eat, over the years, but had never considered trying to raise and keep them. Hurley made some comment that she missed, but she caught Charlie’s mock-indignant response.
“I’m a rock star! I can find chicks anywhere!” Ignoring the groans, he turned to Sayid and added, “And one of these is yours. Since you didn’t take any of the pig meat, when we had it, you have dibs on the first superfluous cockerel-once we figure out which ones are cockerels and which are superfluous.” As he spoke, he picked up a random chick and gently dumped it into Sayid’s hands. The look on Sayid’s face-not to mention that on the bird’s face-started everyone laughing again.
“What if none are extra?” asked Hurley.
“Then he gets the first roasted eggs. Now, these babies need some water and food, and a place to sleep-and maybe some quiet time, before they start having little baby heart attacks from all the excitement. I already lost a few just trying to get them here.” Some of the other people from the plane were coming around to see what was going on. Charlie caught the eye of one of them and turned to rummage in his knapsack. “Jin? I have some plants for Sun-“ He pulled out a large stack of leaves and held them out, lifting some of the layers to show the dampened cuttings tucked among them. The man he addressed smiled and nodded as he took the package. Charlie then looked over at one of the women. “Rose, thank Bernard for me. He gave me the idea of looking for wild chickens and his idea of where to look and what to feed them was spot on.”
Not waiting to hear the woman’s response, Danielle slid further back and started to extricate herself from her hiding place. There were too many people around for her to feel comfortable listening any longer. She started back to her territory, thinking pleasant thoughts about what she could trade for fresh eggs and chicken meat. Charlie still owed her his toll, after all.
Author: sedauny
Fandom: Lost
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine
Summary: Rock stars are chick magnets. Charlie tests this theory and brings the results home to show off.
Notes: Set in the second season. Total fluff--including some of the guest characters (you'll know which ones)
Danielle saw tracks crossing through her territory. She froze for a moment, comparing their line to her mental map of the area, then relaxed. They would run between the new people’s camp at the beach and the territory beyond hers, where she didn’t like to go, for fear of the Others. She headed for her trap at the two trees. That one was the closest to the new camp and she was hoping to find an offering there. The one of the newcomers most likely to cross through her land on a gathering trip was the man Sayid called Charlie, the baby’s father, l’Anglais, as Danielle thought of him. He usually left her a “toll” at the trap of the two trees, in return for not getting shot as he trespassed. (Not that she would have wasted the ammunition on something that was no threat, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Food that she didn’t have to gather was always welcome.)
Two trees, one net, no food. Damn. The tracks passed by the trees and from their spacing, Danielle thought the man had been moving briskly-not running, but not slowing down for anything. He was taking the established path, not breaking new ground for shortcuts, and the trail was very fresh. Curious, Danielle decided to see if she could catch up to him and watch to see why the hurry.
A quick pace and some well-chosen shortcuts enabled Danielle to catch up with her quarry as he entered the last patch of rough ground above the beach camp. She could see he wore a stuffed knapsack, but he was also carrying two crude baskets suspended from either end of a bamboo pole balanced on his shoulder. He was taking care to keep the baskets level and trying not to let them swing around much. Danielle had almost decided to speak to him when he was hailed by a new voice and Danielle ducked further into cover. The American drawl belonged to one of the men whose name she didn’t know, the one whom the other castaways treated warily and with some disdain. She didn’t want to know him: he was only trouble. She strained to hear, but couldn’t make out any words. The American was asking something and Charlie answered with a confident impudence that, in Danielle’s opinion, raised him half a point for courage and lowered him half a point for foolhardiness. Charlie continued towards the beach, asking something over his shoulder; Danielle caught the name “Hurley”and turned with pleasure for her short cut to the section of beach near Hurley’s tent. There was plenty of cover there and she would be able to hide herself and eavesdrop in safety.
Hurley was farther from his tent than she had expected-almost at the edge of the beach-but Sayid was with him and Danielle was so happy to see both her favorites that she didn’t mind the extra scramble to catch up and find cover. Charlie was carefully settling his burdens on the sand and talking non-stop while the blond American, who had followed him down the beach, was hovering a little ways back, trying not to look as curious as he was. As Charlie opened his baskets, all of them, Danielle included, craned to see what would emerge.
Danielle slapped a hand over her own mouth to stifle her laughter, but she needn’t have bothered-the men were laughing so hard, they couldn’t have heard anyway. Baby chickens were running around in the sand, fluttering and pecking and looking confused by their new home. How had he found so many? Danielle thought there must be two nest’s worth, at least-yes, some were much larger than the others. She had caught wild chickens to eat, over the years, but had never considered trying to raise and keep them. Hurley made some comment that she missed, but she caught Charlie’s mock-indignant response.
“I’m a rock star! I can find chicks anywhere!” Ignoring the groans, he turned to Sayid and added, “And one of these is yours. Since you didn’t take any of the pig meat, when we had it, you have dibs on the first superfluous cockerel-once we figure out which ones are cockerels and which are superfluous.” As he spoke, he picked up a random chick and gently dumped it into Sayid’s hands. The look on Sayid’s face-not to mention that on the bird’s face-started everyone laughing again.
“What if none are extra?” asked Hurley.
“Then he gets the first roasted eggs. Now, these babies need some water and food, and a place to sleep-and maybe some quiet time, before they start having little baby heart attacks from all the excitement. I already lost a few just trying to get them here.” Some of the other people from the plane were coming around to see what was going on. Charlie caught the eye of one of them and turned to rummage in his knapsack. “Jin? I have some plants for Sun-“ He pulled out a large stack of leaves and held them out, lifting some of the layers to show the dampened cuttings tucked among them. The man he addressed smiled and nodded as he took the package. Charlie then looked over at one of the women. “Rose, thank Bernard for me. He gave me the idea of looking for wild chickens and his idea of where to look and what to feed them was spot on.”
Not waiting to hear the woman’s response, Danielle slid further back and started to extricate herself from her hiding place. There were too many people around for her to feel comfortable listening any longer. She started back to her territory, thinking pleasant thoughts about what she could trade for fresh eggs and chicken meat. Charlie still owed her his toll, after all.