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janie_tangerineNational holidays and long weekends are a blessing. Apart from managing to catch up some on both Kant and the Real Hume, I managed to finish the finale icons and write some. Hey, I'm that close to finish the dam table and an idea is an idea.
Title: Transcendental Blues
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Jack/Sayid
Word counting: 2185
Disclaimer: AU for the finale, so didn't happen. Still not mine, what a surprise.
Spoilers: for There's No Place Like Home part 2/3 and general S4.
Summary: Only the appearances differ, but the truth is that underneath all of them except Sun are there under the shadow of what Jack calls transcendental blues. Jack doesn’t hide from it and Sayid can only respect him for that. Surely more than he respects himself.
A/N: for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
12_stories #7, nature. Title stolen from Earle as usual, but I thought it was particularly suited for those two. The song doesn't have a thing to do with this apart from that. AU for the ending of the finale, implying that it's Sayid the one Jack meets at the parlor. The songs on Jack's truck are Creep by Stone Temple Pilots and Fell On Black Days by Soundgarden, so those aren't mine either. Now I want to know why I can't write these two on island but however, here it goes. And I'm almost done with that, too.
Sayid doesn’t waste time, when stepping into the funeral parlor.
As soon as he sees the truck parked outside, he knows it’s Jack’s even if he has never seen it. But he knows that Jack drives one, he knows just as he knows that Hurley was in the institution, that Kate doesn’t want to go back and that Sun now wants to.
He stays for a minute or so behind the door, unseen, watching Jack open the coffin, dreading the second he’ll see him in the face. But he has to, he isn’t here because he wants to go and have a beer with Jack to remember good times; and so he takes the last step forward.
“Hi, Jack.”
Jack turns to him, his face in full light; he grew a beard, an hideous one at least for Sayid’s tastes, longer hair. Jeans jacket. A dirty one. A band-aid on his forehead.
The accident, probably.
Nothing like Sayid remembered.
“Hi, Sayid.”
The voice is sort of slurred. His right hand twitches and Sayid comes closer.
“You don’t look well.”
“Well, you don’t either.”, Jack answers, and Sayid knows he’s right. He has glanced at his reflection on a shop window before, while he was walking here; his hair is straight but messy, his silk shirt isn’t buttoned the right way, he thinks he missed at least a couple of holes. He has stopped sleeping properly since, well, a while doesn’t even begin to cover it. No, Sayid doesn’t look well. But at least he isn’t hooked up on Oxycodone.
Jack speaks again, slowly, almost mumbling. Sayid thinks about Daniel Faraday for a second.
“Why? I mean, why are you here?”
“Jack, we need to go back.”
Jack laughs then, and it’s kind of a hollow laugh.
“What is that you find so funny?”
“Oh, Jeremy Bentham comes and tells me that I need to be back, that in fact we need that. I tell Kate the same thing for a month and she doesn’t even want to hear it, then Jeremy Bentham dies and then suddenly you come and tell me we actually should. I think it’s real fun, Sayid.”
Sayid takes a breath.
“Well, there’s a way now.”
“Oh, now there is?”
Sayid takes another breath. This might be difficult to explain. He doesn’t know whether Jack imagines what is that he’s been up to this last year and if Ben found him before Sayid did, this is going to be completely useless.
“It is.. complicated.”
“There’s all the time in the world, Sayid.”, Jack replies before taking something in his pocket, a bottle of medicinals it seems, and swallowing a pill.
Sayid shivers, then tries to explain it.
“Well, Bentham did tell you what happened there, right?”
“Guess he told us all, for that matter.”
“Did he tell you that Ben is here and wants to go back, too?”
“He told me that, yeah. He also told me he’d come searching for me.”
“Which is why I need you to go with me.”
Jack raises an eyebrow at him.
“Really. And why shouldn’t I meet him? Seems like he knows what to do.”
“Because I know the same things he knows and because before leaving he wants to kill Penny Widmore.”
Suddenly there’s silence and Jack looks at him shaking his head.
“What? What has it got to do with the island now?”
“Charles Widmore... well, had his daughter killed. Or something like that. And before going back, he wants to even the score.”
“How would you know that?”
Because I was supposed to do it, Sayid thinks, but he’s not going to tell Jack just that.
“I do. Believe me Jack, I do.”
Sayid raises his head, his eyes meeting Jack’s, holding his stare. He hopes it’s enough. He can’t tell Jack everything just now. He can’t tell Jack he has arranged everything with Desmond and Penny already without Ben knowing. He can’t tell Jack that as soon as Ben finds out that he didn’t kill her things will get hot. He can’t even tell him that Sun has been in touch with him since Bentham told her that Jin was still alive and that now that he knows what Ben knows and she knows what Widmore knows, and they all know what Bentham did, they have good chances to make it.
He would, but there’s no time and he doubts that Jack would grasp half of it, in the state he’s in. Not after he just swallowed an Oxycodone pill like it was candy, anyway.
“You know, I see my father. Every goddamn day.”, Jack says, apparently not connected with their previous discussion.
But Sayid senses the connection and won’t lie. Hurley said he saw dead people. He doesn’t know that the only difference between Sayid and him is that he sees all of them while Sayid sees just one.
“Well, I see Boone. Not every day but often enough.”
“Boone? Why would you see him?”
“He thanked me for the funeral speech and then told me we have to go back.”
“How many times?”
“Once the first, every other time the second.”
“Do you really see him?”
“Do you think that I am here to joke about this?”
Jack shakes his head, leaning against the coffin, Bentham’s body visibile now. Sayid tries to keep on using Bentham in his head.
“Where would you want to go?”
“Desmond and Penny are here. I won’t say where, but I’ll get you there if you drive us. Hurley is already with them. I agreed on a date for Sun to come.”
“And Kate?”
“I will deal with Kate. Not today, though.”
“And what you would do with him?”
“I will sign the release tomorrow.”
“Why you? And why now?”
Sayid doesn’t have an answer.
“Why not?”
“I’m driving.”, Jack says, closing the coffin, shaking a bit when he moves; Sayid wouldn’t really trust him enough but well, he managed to drive here and he does have the license still. Maybe his driving isn’t affected.
“Fine.”
He turns off the light and steps out of the parlor, climbing in the seat next to Jack on the truck. Jack fumbles with the tape he had in before. He pulls it out, throws it in a box full of tapes on the dashboard, then takes another one, pulls it in and gets the truck started. Some song starts at a half or something.
... think you're kinda neat, then she tells me I'm a creep, friends don't mean a thing, guess I'll leave it up to me...
“Go straight and take the highway to San Diego. I’ll tell you where to turn when it’s time.”
“Fine.”
Jack accelerates and Sayid thinks that for being sort of high on Oxycodone, he’s driving fairly well. Remarkable. He stopped driving long ago.
Take time with a wounded hand, guess I like to steal, take time with a wounded hand, ‘cause it likes to heal, I like to steal.
“Jack?”, he asks when they just passed a green light.
“Yes?”
“Could you pull over?”
“Why?”
“Just a second. I need to ask you something.”
Jack shrugs and pulls, then turns to Sayid, his face only half visible, only the street lamps lightening it out; Sayid smells alcohol all over the truck, all over Jack’s clothes, all over the place.
“How did it happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“This. Jack, this isn’t you.”
Jack’s hand don’t leave the wheel; he turns his head, resting his forehead on there for a second, then turns back to Sayid, his shoulders tense.
“Sayid, this isn’t you, either. Guess no one of us is like before now. We just took five different ways to fuck up.”
“How do you...”
“Sayid, I might not be in my most brilliant moment”, he says, slurring his words again, “but it doesn’t take a genius to see it. I fucked up, you fucked up, Hurley fucked up, Sun didn’t but if Jin had been with us she would’ve never... oh, let it go. And Kate fucked up even more than we did even if it doesn’t show. It’s... it’s fucking transcendental blues.”
Sayid nods, figuring out that it isn’t that bad of a definition, though the language is way too lyrical or metaphoric for the Jack he remembered. He wonders whether he sees Charlie sometimes or whether it’s just the influence of all the tapes he listens to on that car. Jack had never looked like someone who would care much for music.
Then again, they all changed. He doesn’t even want to reflect on whether this is the way they really are and the way they should have been all along, because then everything would be sort of pointless, wouldn’t it? He himself, had thought that he could have been better than this once. Now, he wouldn’t know.
I'm half the man I used to be, this I feel as the dawn it fades to gray, I'm half the man I used to be, this I feel as the dawn it fades to gray.
“You said transcendental blues?”
“You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I think I do. I just wish I knew how to stop it.”
“Don’t you tell me that. Wish I knew it, too.”
Jack’s hand shakes and twitches gripping the wheel and Sayid doesn’t know why they hell he does it but he covers it with his own. Jack turns to him again, his eyes more focused but seeming like he isn’t getting the point of this. Well, he isn’t alone, since Sayid isn’t really getting it either. He doesn’t have an idea of what he’s doing truth to be told; surely he must have definitely gone crazy when he takes off his life belt and turns to his left and on his legs, pushing his body in that direction, his other hand going straight to Jack’s head and his lips brushing Jack’s, meeting just a stale breath and a taste of whiskey filling his lungs.
The thing he can’t place is that Jack doesn’t move away. His lips move just a bit under his, just barely, and that’s all, but he doesn’t move away and while Sayid’s head says he shouldn’t really and this really is the final way they could fuck up, his body does otherwise and Sayid doesn’t move either.
The song stopped a minute ago or so and another started.
Whatsoever I've feared has come to life, whatsoever I've fought off became my life, just when everyday seemed to greet me with a smile, sunspots have faded and now I'm doing time, ‘cause I fell on black days.
They part but stay close; Sayid feels Jack’s band-aid against the skin of his forehead and well, Jack may taste like whiskey and his breath is sour and he could really use washing his teeth, but Sayid thinks that it doesn’t really matter much.
“What the hell was that?”, Jack asks, his tone not matching the words.
“I don’t know.”, Sayid replies. And it’s true. He doesn’t.
“Shouldn’t we go?”, Jack says, not moving in the slightest.
“Later.”
“This is fucked up.”
“Is there something which is not?”
Jack nods and lets out another breath again, turning his head just a bit; Sayid looks at him, noticing every detail he can, seeing the lines of the face he remember running beneath the beard, feeling Jack’s hair strangely soft under his fingers, his other hand gripping the jeans jacket, realizing that now Jack’s eyes are way less unfocused that they were before.
Fine.
“We should go.”, he says even if he doesn’t feel like going just now.
“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”
Their lips brush again and Sayid turns his head to the other side running his tongue across them while Jack starts the car again.
“Turn left.”, he says at one point. Jack does and Sayid pushes the window down, the wind blowing across his face.
So don't you lock up something that you wanted to see fly, hands are for shaking, no, not tying.
He wishes he could turn the radio off. He doesn’t and just looks ahead in front of him. He won’t tell Jack he’d give something to be wearing his clothes right now, but that’s fine.
Sayid glances at Jack again and well, he finds himself secretly admiring him. Because Jack has fucked up and you can see it. While Sayid would just need a shower, straighten his clothes and to button his shirt the way it’s supposed to be to hide the evidence that he’s just as far gone as Jack is. Only the appearances differ, but the truth is that underneath all of them except Sun are there under the shadow of what Jack calls transcendental blues. Jack doesn’t hide from it and Sayid can only respect him for that. Surely more than he respects himself.
I sure don't mind a change, but I fell on black days, how would I know that this could be my fate?
Sayid looks out of the window and tells Jack to keep on going straight. He feels something hanging in the air between him and Jack, there and sort of connecting them.
Sayid doesn’t have much doubts on the fact that it’s, indeed, what he can't define in any other way than transcendental blues.
End.
Title: Transcendental Blues
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Jack/Sayid
Word counting: 2185
Disclaimer: AU for the finale, so didn't happen. Still not mine, what a surprise.
Spoilers: for There's No Place Like Home part 2/3 and general S4.
Summary: Only the appearances differ, but the truth is that underneath all of them except Sun are there under the shadow of what Jack calls transcendental blues. Jack doesn’t hide from it and Sayid can only respect him for that. Surely more than he respects himself.
A/N: for
12_stories #7, nature. Title stolen from Earle as usual, but I thought it was particularly suited for those two. The song doesn't have a thing to do with this apart from that. AU for the ending of the finale, implying that it's Sayid the one Jack meets at the parlor. The songs on Jack's truck are Creep by Stone Temple Pilots and Fell On Black Days by Soundgarden, so those aren't mine either. Now I want to know why I can't write these two on island but however, here it goes. And I'm almost done with that, too.Sayid doesn’t waste time, when stepping into the funeral parlor.
As soon as he sees the truck parked outside, he knows it’s Jack’s even if he has never seen it. But he knows that Jack drives one, he knows just as he knows that Hurley was in the institution, that Kate doesn’t want to go back and that Sun now wants to.
He stays for a minute or so behind the door, unseen, watching Jack open the coffin, dreading the second he’ll see him in the face. But he has to, he isn’t here because he wants to go and have a beer with Jack to remember good times; and so he takes the last step forward.
“Hi, Jack.”
Jack turns to him, his face in full light; he grew a beard, an hideous one at least for Sayid’s tastes, longer hair. Jeans jacket. A dirty one. A band-aid on his forehead.
The accident, probably.
Nothing like Sayid remembered.
“Hi, Sayid.”
The voice is sort of slurred. His right hand twitches and Sayid comes closer.
“You don’t look well.”
“Well, you don’t either.”, Jack answers, and Sayid knows he’s right. He has glanced at his reflection on a shop window before, while he was walking here; his hair is straight but messy, his silk shirt isn’t buttoned the right way, he thinks he missed at least a couple of holes. He has stopped sleeping properly since, well, a while doesn’t even begin to cover it. No, Sayid doesn’t look well. But at least he isn’t hooked up on Oxycodone.
Jack speaks again, slowly, almost mumbling. Sayid thinks about Daniel Faraday for a second.
“Why? I mean, why are you here?”
“Jack, we need to go back.”
Jack laughs then, and it’s kind of a hollow laugh.
“What is that you find so funny?”
“Oh, Jeremy Bentham comes and tells me that I need to be back, that in fact we need that. I tell Kate the same thing for a month and she doesn’t even want to hear it, then Jeremy Bentham dies and then suddenly you come and tell me we actually should. I think it’s real fun, Sayid.”
Sayid takes a breath.
“Well, there’s a way now.”
“Oh, now there is?”
Sayid takes another breath. This might be difficult to explain. He doesn’t know whether Jack imagines what is that he’s been up to this last year and if Ben found him before Sayid did, this is going to be completely useless.
“It is.. complicated.”
“There’s all the time in the world, Sayid.”, Jack replies before taking something in his pocket, a bottle of medicinals it seems, and swallowing a pill.
Sayid shivers, then tries to explain it.
“Well, Bentham did tell you what happened there, right?”
“Guess he told us all, for that matter.”
“Did he tell you that Ben is here and wants to go back, too?”
“He told me that, yeah. He also told me he’d come searching for me.”
“Which is why I need you to go with me.”
Jack raises an eyebrow at him.
“Really. And why shouldn’t I meet him? Seems like he knows what to do.”
“Because I know the same things he knows and because before leaving he wants to kill Penny Widmore.”
Suddenly there’s silence and Jack looks at him shaking his head.
“What? What has it got to do with the island now?”
“Charles Widmore... well, had his daughter killed. Or something like that. And before going back, he wants to even the score.”
“How would you know that?”
Because I was supposed to do it, Sayid thinks, but he’s not going to tell Jack just that.
“I do. Believe me Jack, I do.”
Sayid raises his head, his eyes meeting Jack’s, holding his stare. He hopes it’s enough. He can’t tell Jack everything just now. He can’t tell Jack he has arranged everything with Desmond and Penny already without Ben knowing. He can’t tell Jack that as soon as Ben finds out that he didn’t kill her things will get hot. He can’t even tell him that Sun has been in touch with him since Bentham told her that Jin was still alive and that now that he knows what Ben knows and she knows what Widmore knows, and they all know what Bentham did, they have good chances to make it.
He would, but there’s no time and he doubts that Jack would grasp half of it, in the state he’s in. Not after he just swallowed an Oxycodone pill like it was candy, anyway.
“You know, I see my father. Every goddamn day.”, Jack says, apparently not connected with their previous discussion.
But Sayid senses the connection and won’t lie. Hurley said he saw dead people. He doesn’t know that the only difference between Sayid and him is that he sees all of them while Sayid sees just one.
“Well, I see Boone. Not every day but often enough.”
“Boone? Why would you see him?”
“He thanked me for the funeral speech and then told me we have to go back.”
“How many times?”
“Once the first, every other time the second.”
“Do you really see him?”
“Do you think that I am here to joke about this?”
Jack shakes his head, leaning against the coffin, Bentham’s body visibile now. Sayid tries to keep on using Bentham in his head.
“Where would you want to go?”
“Desmond and Penny are here. I won’t say where, but I’ll get you there if you drive us. Hurley is already with them. I agreed on a date for Sun to come.”
“And Kate?”
“I will deal with Kate. Not today, though.”
“And what you would do with him?”
“I will sign the release tomorrow.”
“Why you? And why now?”
Sayid doesn’t have an answer.
“Why not?”
“I’m driving.”, Jack says, closing the coffin, shaking a bit when he moves; Sayid wouldn’t really trust him enough but well, he managed to drive here and he does have the license still. Maybe his driving isn’t affected.
“Fine.”
He turns off the light and steps out of the parlor, climbing in the seat next to Jack on the truck. Jack fumbles with the tape he had in before. He pulls it out, throws it in a box full of tapes on the dashboard, then takes another one, pulls it in and gets the truck started. Some song starts at a half or something.
... think you're kinda neat, then she tells me I'm a creep, friends don't mean a thing, guess I'll leave it up to me...
“Go straight and take the highway to San Diego. I’ll tell you where to turn when it’s time.”
“Fine.”
Jack accelerates and Sayid thinks that for being sort of high on Oxycodone, he’s driving fairly well. Remarkable. He stopped driving long ago.
Take time with a wounded hand, guess I like to steal, take time with a wounded hand, ‘cause it likes to heal, I like to steal.
“Jack?”, he asks when they just passed a green light.
“Yes?”
“Could you pull over?”
“Why?”
“Just a second. I need to ask you something.”
Jack shrugs and pulls, then turns to Sayid, his face only half visible, only the street lamps lightening it out; Sayid smells alcohol all over the truck, all over Jack’s clothes, all over the place.
“How did it happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“This. Jack, this isn’t you.”
Jack’s hand don’t leave the wheel; he turns his head, resting his forehead on there for a second, then turns back to Sayid, his shoulders tense.
“Sayid, this isn’t you, either. Guess no one of us is like before now. We just took five different ways to fuck up.”
“How do you...”
“Sayid, I might not be in my most brilliant moment”, he says, slurring his words again, “but it doesn’t take a genius to see it. I fucked up, you fucked up, Hurley fucked up, Sun didn’t but if Jin had been with us she would’ve never... oh, let it go. And Kate fucked up even more than we did even if it doesn’t show. It’s... it’s fucking transcendental blues.”
Sayid nods, figuring out that it isn’t that bad of a definition, though the language is way too lyrical or metaphoric for the Jack he remembered. He wonders whether he sees Charlie sometimes or whether it’s just the influence of all the tapes he listens to on that car. Jack had never looked like someone who would care much for music.
Then again, they all changed. He doesn’t even want to reflect on whether this is the way they really are and the way they should have been all along, because then everything would be sort of pointless, wouldn’t it? He himself, had thought that he could have been better than this once. Now, he wouldn’t know.
I'm half the man I used to be, this I feel as the dawn it fades to gray, I'm half the man I used to be, this I feel as the dawn it fades to gray.
“You said transcendental blues?”
“You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I think I do. I just wish I knew how to stop it.”
“Don’t you tell me that. Wish I knew it, too.”
Jack’s hand shakes and twitches gripping the wheel and Sayid doesn’t know why they hell he does it but he covers it with his own. Jack turns to him again, his eyes more focused but seeming like he isn’t getting the point of this. Well, he isn’t alone, since Sayid isn’t really getting it either. He doesn’t have an idea of what he’s doing truth to be told; surely he must have definitely gone crazy when he takes off his life belt and turns to his left and on his legs, pushing his body in that direction, his other hand going straight to Jack’s head and his lips brushing Jack’s, meeting just a stale breath and a taste of whiskey filling his lungs.
The thing he can’t place is that Jack doesn’t move away. His lips move just a bit under his, just barely, and that’s all, but he doesn’t move away and while Sayid’s head says he shouldn’t really and this really is the final way they could fuck up, his body does otherwise and Sayid doesn’t move either.
The song stopped a minute ago or so and another started.
Whatsoever I've feared has come to life, whatsoever I've fought off became my life, just when everyday seemed to greet me with a smile, sunspots have faded and now I'm doing time, ‘cause I fell on black days.
They part but stay close; Sayid feels Jack’s band-aid against the skin of his forehead and well, Jack may taste like whiskey and his breath is sour and he could really use washing his teeth, but Sayid thinks that it doesn’t really matter much.
“What the hell was that?”, Jack asks, his tone not matching the words.
“I don’t know.”, Sayid replies. And it’s true. He doesn’t.
“Shouldn’t we go?”, Jack says, not moving in the slightest.
“Later.”
“This is fucked up.”
“Is there something which is not?”
Jack nods and lets out another breath again, turning his head just a bit; Sayid looks at him, noticing every detail he can, seeing the lines of the face he remember running beneath the beard, feeling Jack’s hair strangely soft under his fingers, his other hand gripping the jeans jacket, realizing that now Jack’s eyes are way less unfocused that they were before.
Fine.
“We should go.”, he says even if he doesn’t feel like going just now.
“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”
Their lips brush again and Sayid turns his head to the other side running his tongue across them while Jack starts the car again.
“Turn left.”, he says at one point. Jack does and Sayid pushes the window down, the wind blowing across his face.
So don't you lock up something that you wanted to see fly, hands are for shaking, no, not tying.
He wishes he could turn the radio off. He doesn’t and just looks ahead in front of him. He won’t tell Jack he’d give something to be wearing his clothes right now, but that’s fine.
Sayid glances at Jack again and well, he finds himself secretly admiring him. Because Jack has fucked up and you can see it. While Sayid would just need a shower, straighten his clothes and to button his shirt the way it’s supposed to be to hide the evidence that he’s just as far gone as Jack is. Only the appearances differ, but the truth is that underneath all of them except Sun are there under the shadow of what Jack calls transcendental blues. Jack doesn’t hide from it and Sayid can only respect him for that. Surely more than he respects himself.
I sure don't mind a change, but I fell on black days, how would I know that this could be my fate?
Sayid looks out of the window and tells Jack to keep on going straight. He feels something hanging in the air between him and Jack, there and sort of connecting them.
Sayid doesn’t have much doubts on the fact that it’s, indeed, what he can't define in any other way than transcendental blues.
End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 08:52 pm (UTC)You make me read things that I would never read and I always like them and I always feel like they are right and make sense. Your writing is wonderful!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:02 pm (UTC)It's totally great to hear Nirvana!Jack here worked, I don't know why those two make sense to me in their future selves when they're not even my favorite cup of tea of choice in the first place but they do and I'm so glad it worked for you, too. I think they have an interesting dynamic regardless but I figured they'd work better in such a setting. Thanks so much again, I'm really so glad you liked that! ♥
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:30 pm (UTC)♥
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 09:38 pm (UTC)E poi suuuuuuuu. Jacl Shepard che ascolta i Nirvana. E' proprio da zero a dieci in tre secondi, cavolo!xD
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Date: 2008-06-02 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 06:30 am (UTC)And great use of grunge! STP and Soundgarden, yay!
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Date: 2008-06-05 07:38 am (UTC)Seriously, thank you so much! I don't know why those two make sense to me post-island but they do. It's great to hear that they made sense in this one and that their way of dealing worked. Thanks again, I'm really glad you liked it! ♥
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Date: 2008-06-05 09:53 pm (UTC)“This is fucked up.”
“Is there something which is not?”
Perfectly observed, and spot-on with the dialect - I don't know why I noticed that especially here, but for whatever reason, I could almost hear Sayid saying this as I read it.
Is it too much to hope that there might be a sequel featuring Teh Sexx? Just wondering. ;)
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Date: 2008-06-05 10:04 pm (UTC)Uhm, well, you know, since I guess that my feelings of uttermost love both for Nirvana!Jack and tragic!future!Sayid are kind of a given, I think I could just get Desmond and Penny in their secret location to make Jack shave and giving it a try. Hey, last time you wondered about sequels featuring teh sexx it was the only time I managed to write sort of decent sex in months so why not? ;)
Do I wish it wasn't the Ben show? I do, quite so *sigh*. I maybe could get Widmore if it means Desmond gets space but that's all about it ;)
Seriously, I'm really glad you liked this one. And I'm ridiculously glad to hear that you liked Sayid (and his dialogue) in here, I always think I don't make him talk like he should so you pretty much made my night with that.
I would have had him insisting that Jack do something about the beard before anything else! Major points to you on that one.
Well, that could be because the beard actually didn't disturb me half of how much it disturbed me the first time I saw it ;) thank you so much, I'm really glad you liked it! And keep your fingers crossed, you may never know ;) ♥
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Date: 2008-06-08 01:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-08 02:54 pm (UTC)It's great to hear that my trip into future!Sayid worked here (and why now I'm thinking that him and Omar would make an excellent team? I clearly need a break from brainstorming) because the sort of plot of this one wasn't exactly smooth to write (eyes Jack badly) and I hoped that it was going to turn out IC for the both of them. Thank you, I'm really glad you liked it!
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Date: 2008-06-17 02:12 pm (UTC)“Is there something which is not?”
That scene in the car, before,during and after the kiss is just perfect.
I love how you quoted the songs too, and the idea that they have to team up and then they can beat Ben, to which I heartily agree (especially if Sayid's in the lead).
C'è un solitario "fine" abbandonato a 3/4 della fic che non ho capito. Refuso? O sono io che non ci sono arrivata?
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Date: 2008-06-17 04:47 pm (UTC)Don't I, too? *sigh* How do I wish for it. Thanks, I'm really glad you liked it! And that scene especially since I wasn't too sure of it.
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Date: 2009-01-23 12:42 am (UTC)I like the idea that Jack shows his breakdown on his appearance (cry much, jack, cry? lol) and Sayid is more difficult to see through as he consciously tries to cover up. A very lovely detail to pick up on.
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Date: 2009-01-23 08:34 am (UTC)