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janie_tangerineMy dearest ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elliotsmelliot, this one should actually get posted tomorrow because it's sort of your birthday present from yours truly, but since I don't know whether tomorrow morning I'll manage to be on enough to post fic and you'll read it then anyway, have it in advance ;) and yes, it's exactly what you think. And no, I don't think I forgot anything. I sincerely hope you like it and that you get the most awesome birthday. ♥
Title: Come Fly With Me
Rating: Nc17 or sorts of
Pairings/Characters: Desmond/Sayid, hints of Charlie/Claire and Sawyer/Kate plus pre-Jack/Boone; then pretty much everyone, Scott, Steve and Mikhail included.
Word Count: 5900
Disclaimer: Read the summary. Do you think that Lost is mine?
Summary: Desmond and Sayid are pilots for Constant Airlines, owned by Hurley, and fly a plane where cookies baked by Claire are served; Juliet, Boone and Shannon are flight attendants, Richard owns the rival company Maybelline Airlines and Sawyer owns a bookshop in Dharma Airport, where life is never really boring. Especially when Frank owns the bar and two incapable terrorists leave around bombs that don't explode.
Spoilers: People, this is as AU as it gets. I'd say really no spoilers.
A/N: birthday fic forelliotsmelliot, who is equally responsible as I am for its birth, since all of this spread out in a very insane conversation in her journal two months ago (and the title is hers, not mine ;) ). The setting and the roles are all born of common brainstorming and if I added something isn't really pivotal. If something doesn't work, it's my fault ;) using it for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lostpicksix #25, passion. And now I'll go finish packing.
Passengers of Maybelline Airlines flight 108, please board now. I repeat, Maybelline Airlines 108 is boarding now. All the passengers, please reach gate 8.
“Come on, Walt, it’s our flight! Hurry... Walt? Walt, where are you? Walt!”
“Michael, don’t scream! Jesus, he went to the bathroom after we left Vincent with that nice attendant, he’s coming right now!”
“Right. Sorry, Ma, it’s just that...”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Go on, I’m waiting for him here.”
James Ford owns the Tom Joad’s Bookshop, located in the lounge of Dharma Airport, which is in turn located in an international zone just outside Heroica Matamoros, exactly on the border that goes from Mexico to Texas. James is better known as Sawyer to everyone who works there for his own personal reasons and, right now, raises his head from the latest Atwood paperback that arrived this morning and shakes it slightly, positioning his glasses better.
He watches the family for a minute or so, it’s not like it’s news; they take this flight once every two weeks, he doesn’t know why, and he gets to witness their bickering each time. He’s frankly getting quite tired, to be honest, but hey, it’s a small airport from where only two airlines depart, there’s not much news. Of course, there are also those two women doing costal guard service on that Searcher plane and those other two Nigerian brothers who look like priests but he thinks are actually humanitarian workers. Even if once he thought they were drug smugglers. Whatever, he renounced to understand the matter years ago.
Anyway, he has come to see his little African American family passing each two weeks as a ritual or something. He knows that their name is Dawson, the middle aged guy is named Michael and is a comic book artist, the older woman is his mother and the kid is named Walt and for some reason he got to stay with his father just as of late. Also, they have a white Labrador named Vincent who shouldn’t actually be allowed in that zone but always is and that always gets something to eat at Rose and Bernard Nadler’s restaurant Sweet Tooth, which is actually in front of his shop. A lovely elderly couple, Sawyer thinks, and he also appreciates that they never make him pay for his lunch. He kind of admires them because getting married forty years before in Texas when he’s white and she’s black probably wasn’t the easiest ride ever, but hey, they look perfectly fine as of today.
He waits for the Dawsons to board that flight. To be honest, Sawyer doesn’t really like Maybelline Airlines as much as Constant Airlines, its direct opponent. Sure, his part time sales girl works also for Constant Airlines, but thing is, they’re way more fun. Maybelline Airlines is owned by this guy who looks very oriental or something, with dark skin and two eyelashes that earned him the Maybelline nickname (which he took as his company’s name with much irony), that always tries to steal that very pretty piece of ass of a flight attendant from Constant Airlines and at least it’s another source of fun.
Before starting to read Atwood again, he raises a hand to greet Scott and Steve, the two sort of handymans that have to load luggage on planes and clean them when they land, and Tom, their superior and only representative of the Luggage Loaders Union of Matamoros. Then he gets back on his book, this is a dead time anyway, when...
“Ford, you idiot, how many times did I tell you that you can’t leave your fucking empty boxes in my stockroom?”
Sawyer rolls his eyes, pulling the book away and stepping out of the shop, turning to Straume’s Toys, which is as the name obviously suggests a toys shop next to his. The owner’s name is Miles Straume and he’s a Chinese-something guy five years and a foot shorter than he is; his shop window is always full of Ghostbusters merchandise and he seems to love to spend time making his life even more boring, especially since he doesn’t want to acknowledge that the stockroom they have behind their shops is shared and Sawyer can keep all the fucking empty boxes he wants there.
“And how many times did I tell you that we share it? You haven’t bought that full and I haven’t, so just shut up and let me do my job.”
“Yeah, like you work.”
“Yeah, like you do. Oh, Jesus, I’m havin’ a drink.”
The bar is on the left side of the lounge and he can see the shop from there anyway. He makes to go, except that something runs into him almost throwing him on the ground.
Something that soon after reveals itself to be a someone, specifically Charlie Pace, former rock star and bassist with a group that Sawyer thinks was called Drive something and that has completely fallen in love with his sales girl two months ago when he passed here because of a tour. Of course he shows up each week now. He’s a blond guy, quite shorter than Sawyer is, blond short trimmed hair, a couple of nice brown eyes that he always hides behind ray-bans, a fake leather shirt because he’s an animal rights activist and always a band shirt. This time is Oasis.
“Oh, Sawyer. I was just...”
“Searchin’ for Claire. Yeah, yeah, like I didn’t know. She’s on board with her other job now, the flight’s landin’ in an hour. You can make yourself comfortable somewhere. I think Rose just baked apple pie this mornin’.”
“Oh, that’s just bloody awesome. Right, I’m waiting there!”
Charlie runs towards Sweet Tooth and Sawyer shakes his head, then walks towards the Cockpit . The counter isn’t empty, even if it’s just eleven in the morning; apart from Frank, the owner, who today wears a shirt with fucking Kenny Rogers’ face and a flowered scarf which actually quite match his silver beard, he can see Captain Gault, the airport’s air-traffic controller, and Kate, the local outlaw.
Right, maybe that’d require some explanation.
Gault ended up here a few months ago and seems quite satisfied with the placement, since there’s really not much work to do in the control tower and he always leaves his vice Minkowski to do the job while he hangs at the Cockpit ; he’s also quite a fine looking man, with a squared face, a bit of stubble, tanned skin. He knows it and half of the women at the check ins are head over heels for him, also because they find his Australian accent incredibly sexy. The other half die after the flight attendant that Richard Alpert aka the owner of Maybelline Airlines can’t manage to steal from Constant Airlines, but Sawyer kind of pities them, since everyone else knows that the kid obviously swings on the other side.
Kate is, well, an outlaw. In the United States at least, but anyway, Sawyer is pretty sure she’s wanted for at least a bank robbery and something else he doesn’t know. So she had tried escaping to Mexico, but since this airport is in an international zone and she couldn’t be arrested by Edward Mars, the Cameron County Marshal, until she was in there, nor by the Mexican police, she had been staying in the airport, sleeping in the camp bed of the bullpen thanks to the security supervisor, Ana Lucìa Cortez. She says that living in an airport is not so bad and Sawyer figures there could be worse, but he’s sure she’ll run from here one day. She gives him that impression.
Whatever, it hadn’t stopped more than a couple of brief but interesting encounters between them in the restroom at Sweet Tooth’s and it was fine like that. Now she’s having a sandwich.
“So, buddy, want a beer?” Frank asks him while he cleans the counter in front of him.
“That’d be too early in the mornin’ and day’s just begun. Give me a double coffee.”
“Fine. Your pick.”
Frank serves him the coffee and Sawyer nods at Captain Gault when he waves at him; the coffee is good and the day looks seemingly brighter for ten seconds when he hears bickering from the back of the lounge.
He turns and sees the two security guards, Linus and Widmore, arguing between themselves and a couple of poor tourists looking at one and then the other, completely hopeless. Shit, he thinks finishing the coffee and stepping in that direction.
“See, dear miss, my colleague Charles here has everything wrong. He can’t even remember where places are, but let me assure you that the bookstore is exactly on your right, along that corridor.”
“Ben, shut up! Mister, the bookstore is on the opposite side, don’t listen to him.”
“What the hell is happening now?”
Suddenly Ana Lucìa steps out of the small police station, shaking her head, her black, thick hair falling around her shoulders in waves before she ties them up in a knot. She arrives on the scene and eyes both of the guards badly.
“We’re at it again, you two? Why don’t you just cooperate for once? Miss,” she asks to the girl of the couple, “what do you want to know?”
“We were... just searching for a bookshop...”
Sawyer then steps forward and tries to clear the conversation.
“Well, looks like you ran into the bookshop’s owner. That ain’t at your left or your right, that’s straight there at the back of the lounge. I’ll be waitin’ for you both there.”
The girl nods and follows him with her boyfriend while Ana tries to scold those two. Sawyer knows that there really isn’t a chance, though; they always are like that and he doesn’t know how come both Alpert and Reyes, who owns Constant Airlines (and half of the airport with Alpert for that matter), haven’t fired those two. Right, Linus is a friend of Alpert’s or something and Widmore is the father of one of the Coast Guard women so good for the family business image they want to give, but... he just shrugs and looks at the clock, while he goes behind the counter and waits for the couple to choose their magazines or whatever. Just half an hour and then he’ll get his sales girl back and things will be quite more exciting.
At the same time, some 20000 feet up in the air and a good number of miles farther, over Texas
A delicious smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies suddenly fills the pilots’ cabin of Constant Airlines’ flight 16 and is cause of a sudden sigh from all the current occupants.
Desmond Hume, the pilot in charge, is wearing a dark blue suit with a red tie, his shoulder-length hair fall neatly on his shoulder, framing a tanned and triangular face with slender lines and a couple of warm brown eyes. He sits in front of the control panel and looks at the watch, nodding. Claire is perfectly on time as usual.
On the near chair sits his second, Sayid Jarrah; he’s wearing trousers which are the same as Desmond’s, but since he’s not the one in charge and this is Constant Airlines where no one is strict, he only has a white shirt and a jeans jacket with short sleeves. His curly, black and thick hair is tied into a ponytail; some curls fall over his face and a dark skin that seems almost golden in the bright sunlight.
Behind them stands Juliet Burke, the head stewardess; she’s wearing a smart blue uniform, her long and blond hair falls over her shoulders up to the middle of her back and her icy blue eyes turn for a second in their small airplane kitchen’s (which is located between the first class and the cabin). She licks her lips for a second before taking back a professional stance.
Next to her is Shannon Rutherford, the other female flight attendant, dressed with a uniform similar to Juliet’s if not for the fact that it’s pink and has a much shorter skirt, showing off two long and tanned legs; her blond, shiny hair is tied in a knot at the back of her head, her lips are pink with shiny lipstick and her brown eyes linger in the direction of the kitchen quite more than Juliet’s.
Behind Desmond’s seat stands Boone Carlyle, the only male flight attendant of the trio and object of desire of the other half of the clerks at the check in. He wears black trousers and a white short sleeved shirt with the logo of the airline; his hair is brown and soft, falling in soft waves over his neck, standing against a skin way paler than Shannon’s, who actually is his step sister. His full, pink lips curl into a smile as soon as the chocolate smell fills the room and he turns his enormous blue eyes in the kitchen’s direction.
A couple of seconds later a girl in her first twenties, who arrives more or less at Boone’s shoulder in height, with two huge blue eyes, a white apron, a cascade of blond hair falling over her shoulders and a lovely bright smile enters the cabin, pulling a tray full of freshly baked chocolate cookies.
“Claire, I believe that you outdone yourself this time, on the smell alone,” Sayid says, smiling at her.
“Why, thank you. Do you want to try one?”
“I will be most pleased.”
Sayid takes the cookie and breaks it in half carefully, eating one.
“It’s delicious. As I thought. Desmond, would you want the other half?”
“Aye, brother, thanks. Wouldn’t want to waste the ones meant for the passengers,” the pilot answers in a distinct Scottish accent while he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it for himself.
“Well, Claire, I think you just might begin to serve. We’re landin’ in a short while and...”
Suddenly Juliet’s pager starts to beep and she takes it out, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“Oh, again.”
“What’s that?” Shannon asks.
“That guy. It’s the third time today. And I’m sure he wants a drink, again. Can you take it?”
“Sure, but... you mean 23b? Oh, God. Why don’t you just dump the drink on his head one time?”
Suddenly Boone turns in Juliet’s direction.
“What? Have you said 23b?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Hell, Shan, you know that you have to turn that one to me. Juliet, I’ll take it. Claire, may I get three or four since I’m going now?”
“Oh, sure.”
Boone nods, passes a hand through his hair, takes a small tray, places there three cookies in a napkin carefully and then leaves the cabin, heading to the second class. Shannon nods at Juliet and Claire and they all peek out of the curtain separating the first class from the rows of seats.
23b is occupied by a handsome man in his first or mid thirties, dressed in a smart black suit, with very short dark brown hair, brown eyes, a shadow of stubble, a thin mouth and very regular lines on his face. He boards this flight two times each week and, from what Juliet, Shannon and Boone learned every time he asks for a drink (it’s at least three per flight and he’s been boarding here since four months), his name is Jack, he’s a quite affirmed spinal surgeon and takes that trip for work reasons.
Boone clears his throat before sporting his best smile and looking down at Jack.
“Did you wish for anything in particular?”
Jack raises his head and smiles just slightly, nodding; Shannon rolls her eyes when Boone’s cheeks immediately flush a deeper red than how they usually are on standard.
“Well, that wasn’t a very strong drink. The one they gave before. Maybe you have something stronger?”
Boone reaches into his pocket and slips a small bottle of vodka into Jack’s hand (it should be forbidden but no one cares, not on this airline really), then reaches for the napkin.
“We’re just about to serve our cookies as you probably imagined, but since I’m here, I figure you might like to try them in advance?”
“Oh, that’d be lovely. Which flavor this time?”
“Dark chocolate. You get the real pieces of chocolate inside, too.”
“Now that’s a package deal I can get behind.”
Boone smiles again and places the napkin lightly in Jack’s outstretched hand, then clears his voice again.
“I hope the rest of your flight with us is pleasant.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that it will.”
Boone nods at Jack and then goes back to the empty first class, where he earns a light slap from Shannon on his neck.
“Shan, the hell...”
“Now if that wasn’t shameless flirting... God, what the hell do you find in that guy anyway?”
“Oh, just shut up.”
“Just ask him out, for God’s sake.”
“Shan!”
At that point he’s blushing furiously and Juliet figures it’s time to get moving.
“Shannon, your turn with the cookies. Go.”
“Right, boss.”
She looks at Boone one last time and then heads out with the big tray, handing cookies to everyone in the second class but Jack; meanwhile, Desmond takes the speaker in his hands and clears his voice before turning it up.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Desmond Hume, your pilot in charge. Our descend towards Matamoros will begin in a couple of minutes and we will land in about half an hour. Please fasten your seatbelt now.”
--
When the landing is over, Juliet comes to the cabin alone, placing the tray with the left over cookies near Sayid’s seat.
“Everythin’ fine, sister?”
“Sure. Everyone got off safely, the cookies were excellent, Boone was very glad that 23b had a pleasant journey and I am the only one on board except for the both of you. Now, should I tell Scott and Steve to wait an additional half of an hour before they clean up as usual?”
“That would be very appreciated, Juliet.”
She smirks at Sayid and leaves the cabin; then Desmond picks up his cellphone and dials a number.
“Calling the boss as usual?”
“Aye. First duty then pleasure, brother.”
The phone rings a couple of times before a female voice answers; from the English accent and the not-so-pleasant tone, Desmond deducts that it’s Charlotte, the boss' secretary. Well, she actually is also a half caretaker for their most brilliant engineer, who is quite prone to short term memory loss.
“Constant Airlines, Los Angeles department, how can we help you?”
“Charlotte? Hi, sister. Desmond here.”
“Oh, hi. Is the flight over?”
“Aye. I was wonderin’ if I could talk to the boss?”
“In a couple of minutes. He’s with Sun and Locke figuring something out. You know, she had this idea about the perfect way to defeat her father’s company. You know, Paik. They want to buy a quarter of the airport off Maybelline. But Locke is arguing about accountancy and I guess the boss isn’t understanding much of the whole thing. And... oh, sorry. Daniel, damnit, that door isn’t the bathroom, it’s Sun’s office!”
Desmond chuckles slightly.
“Is he doing fine?”
“Sure, as soon as he just plans engines. I hate those memory losses, I so do. But at least he got the right door now and... oh, Sun and Locke are going out. One moment, I’m getting you through.”
“Thanks, sister. Good luck.”
“I’ll sure need that.”
There’s a click and then Desmond finally is on the phone with Hugo Reyes, Hurley for friends, header and owner of Constant Airlines, whose only rule for his pilots is to call him each time a flight has landed.
“Desmond? Hi, dude. So, you landed?”
“Aye. Very smooth flight, I’ve got to say.”
“Good. Listen, you think that Dan could drop by tomorrow with a couple of engineers? He thinks he found a way to get that plane of yours to fly faster with a few touches. Or, like, something similar. I don’t know really, he’s the expert.”
“Aye, sure. There weren’t flights scheduled for tomorrow anyway.”
“Any news? From the airport, I mean.”
“Two days ago, ‘fore we started for Los Angeles, there was that Maybelline guy that tried to get Boone to work for him.”
“Again? Desmond, that’s no news. He refused, right?”
“Aye, like there was a doubt ‘bout it. But nay, nothin’ else. I mean, Kate’s still there as long as I know. Oh, those two wankers tries with a bomb again three days ago.”
“Again? What happened?”
“Nothin’. Ana found it just as soon as they left it there, but it wasn’t gonna explode. She said the wires were wrongly put.”
“At least they’re so stupid that they won’t ever succeed. Right, fine. Call me tomorrow when Daniel’s done, right? Bye, dude. Say hi to Sayid for me.”
“For sure.”
Desmond closes the cellphone and places it into his jacket’s pocket; then carefully takes the jacket off and folds it over the ground, meeting Sayid’s eyes soon after. And he pretty much loves the glint they take each time he finishes a call to the direction.
“Have you done everything?”
“Aye, all taken care of. Well, duty’s done. Guess it’s time for the pleasure?”
“I would definitely second this motion.”
Then he eyes the tray, where are still a couple of left cookies.
“Now that would really be a pity to waste something so delicious, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, most definitely. I leave the matter in your hands.”
“That is a joy to hear.”
Sayid grabs the cookies and stands up, heading to the first class; Desmond follows him there and as soon as no one can see them from outside the hangar, Sayid’s left hand, which holds one cookie, is behind Desmond's neck and the right one near his mouth, the cookie safely placed between Sayid's fingers.
Desmond nudges his head forward and takes a small bite, then another, going as slowly as possible; as soon as the cookie is almost over, he takes between his lips both the remaining part and Sayid’s finger, licking away a couple of crumbs.
He suddenly can feel Sayid’s erection pressing against his leg, but when he’s done he just lets the finger go and takes the other cookie from Sayid’s hand behind his neck, reaching behind.
Then, while Sayid’s free right hand goes to the small of his back pushing him forward so that he ends up seated in the first row with Sayid on top of him, he does the same thing Sayid did and places the cookie just near his lips.
Sayid is seemingly more in a hurry than Desmond is because the cookie is gone in three bites and then Sayid’s mouth is on his and they’re both kissing. Desmond tastes chocolate on Sayid’s tongue and he guesses it’s the same for Sayid and oh, it feels just so good, even better than the time with the walnut cookies which had been the best up to now; Sayid’s hands get tangled in his hair and his own go to Sayid’s face, bringing him nearer while his tongue plunges deeper and now his trousers definitely feel small.
Unfortunately they only have a quarter of an hour before Scott and Steve come to clean and they have to hurry up, not that they won’t make up at Hurley’s four star hotel (well, he owns it) near the airport tonight anyway.
Sayid drops swiftly to his knees in front of the seat after he got rid of Desmond’s belt and lowered his trousers down; Desmond’s head pushed back against the seat and his hands gripped the armrests as soon as he feels Sayid’s mouth on his erection, taking him deep; he pushes his hips forward, a delicious heat surrounding him and shivers of pleasures running through his spine, increasing as he watches Sayid’s head raising up and then lowering down.
He doesn’t last much, as he had suspected; he comes in a rush, bliss filling him for a second before he opens his eyes again to Sayid smiling up at him with a certain malice and licking his sticky lips.
They end up with Sayid against the wall and Desmond in front of him, his hand in Sayid’s trousers, Sayid’s teeth biting lightly into his neck after a long, heated kiss; Sayid doesn’t last much more than he did and comes shivering against him and pushing his hips forward as Desmond keeps on stroking him.
When it’s over and they’re on their knees on the floor, they only have five minutes before Scott and Steve come; they hurry to the bathroom and clean themselves as best as they can, Desmond combs his hair back in place cursing Sayid for the ponytail that saved him the trouble and then they hurry out of the plane.
Desmond smiles when he notices the Searcher, the seaplane stored next to theirs in the hangar; not so much when he sees that the Question Mark, the one that belonged to the two Nigerians who he never really managed to place, isn’t. He figures they’re on a humanitarian mission, or maybe a religious one since they always dress as priests, and turns his attention back to the Searcher.
“So you’re back!”
He turns to the cheerful voice that comes from the entrance of the hangar and runs to embrace Penny, who works for the Cost Guard and who was sort of his guide on location when he first started working here a year ago, at Dharma Airport. They also had a more or less steady relationship for a while (specifically, four months), even if it never reached a serious degree. They had amicably split up before his former second pilot resigned to work for Maybelline Airlines (the idiot) and Sayid was hired in his place.
“Hi, Pen. Everything alright here?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Me and Danielle stopped a couple of idiots that were trying to fish in some protected area last day, but not much movement I have to say. You? Everything all right?”
“Sure. After the boss had that idea of the cookies flights are much more interesting.”
“I don’t doubt it. Oh, there is Danielle.”
Desmond turns in the direction Penny heads him, to see her colleague talking with Sayid; Danielle is still as he remembers her even if he hadn’t seen her in maybe six months. Dressed with clothes obviously cut for a male, long and unruly brown hair, sharp and deep lines on her face, her thin mouth always frowning while she seemingly rants to Sayid about idiotic tourists who don’t know nothing about preserving protected species’ habitats. They join the conversation for a while, then Sayid says that he really could do with a nice drink at the Cockpit and maybe something to eat at Sweet Tooth and they leave for the airport, while Penny and Danielle start their recognition and climb on their plane.
--
When Sawyer sees Desmond and Sayid descending arm in arm from the escalator, he rolls his eyes to an extent; everyone knows here and they pretty much take it for granted. Never he has seen a relationship in the airport last as long. Right, he and Kate still have their encounters, but it’s not like they have a relationship.
The Cockpit is full by now; Juliet, Gault, Minkowski and Shannon are there when Desmond and Sayid join them. He had lunch already, thanks; now he’s having much more fun watching Charlie and Claire. He had gone to her telling her that he was passing by (sure) and that he brought her a signed copy of his latest record, at which her lips had broken into a grin of delight. The girl was always searching for celebrities; Sawyer figures she had some dumb luck.
Suddenly he sees Frank looking particularly amused and he follows the direction he’s looking at; then he gets amused himself as soon as he sees Boone walking across the corridor with a suitcase, his pace fast, while Alpert follows him steadily.
“Come on, Carlyle! You know I would give you a much higher paycheck!”
“God, Richard, it’s the hundredth time you ask me. I don’t care for the money. I’m not coming to work for you, alright?”
“But I need someone like you! I mean, Danny and Percy and Colleen and Amelia are alright, but with a name like Maybelline I can’t have them only! Look at you, you’re just what I need and...”
“Richard, I said no!”
“Is this guy bothering you?”
When suddenly the spinal surgeon guy that sometimes buys the newspaper and Tom Clancy or Stephen King books at Sawyer’s (and for this Sawyer doesn’t really have a high opinion of the guy, truth to be told) appears in the lounge, the whole airport goes silent.
Oh, now this is fun, Sawyer thinks, leaving his place near the classics and coming closer to the trio. He has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees the way Boone is blushing.
“Oh, he was... uhm... not really, just asking a couple of questions I guess, but..:”
“Well, he can postpone this asking indefinitely. Can he?”
Richard nods, completely disorientated, and hurries back into the Maybelline Airlines offices. Boone turns back to the surgeon, looking completely embarrassed.
“I’m really sorry. He just... wants me to work for him and I always say no, but..:”
“Hey. No problem. Glad I could help.”
The surgeon turns and heads to the exit of the lounge; Sawyer catches Shannon looking at Boone like she wants to kill him and then mouth take the occasion, you dumb idiot. Boone suddenly seems shaken out of his trance and takes a couple of fast steps, catching up with the doctor and calling him back.
“Hey! I just... well, if you aren’t in a hurry, maybe I could say thanks by offering you something at the restaurant? It’s lunch time. Just if you...”
The doctor smiles just a bit and nods, sending Boone into stunned silence again.
“Sure. I’m in no hurry. But if you want to offer me something, at least call me Jack.”
--
Everyone gathers outside Sweet Tooth just after, except for Bernard and Rose (who are serving), Libby, a young woman inside the restaurant who has the peculiar habit of spending the entire day there giving away her things, and Paolo, the waiter.
Juliet, Frank, Miles, Desmond, Sayid and Gault stand on one side while Sawyer, Charlie, Claire and Shannon are on the other. Soon, they’re joined by Ana, who keeps on eying very badly the two security guards, Kate and Alex, who is Ben’s daughter and practically lives in the airport trying to hide from her father her relationship with Tom’s nephew, Karl, who shows up five minutes later. Tom, Scott and Steve arrive just soon after.
No one pays attention to two guys fumbling in the opposite corner of the room, both very tall and wearing military clothes; one speaks with a heavy Russian accent and wears a patch, while the other doesn’t speak much at all, has very short hair, looks like a mercenary and nods at everything the other says. They leave after five minutes and a suitcase that wasn’t in that corner before is showing now; but everyone is so involved in observing the first exciting thing that has happened here in a long that everything passes unobserved.
They both get an apple pie and make small talk; everyone learns that Jack commutes from Los Angeles to work a couple of days with a humanitarian organization in Mexico, which is by chance the same Boone works for on his free days. When Boone tells him that if he doesn’t want to pay for an hotel he has an apartment with two rooms in Brownsville, Shannon rolls her eyes and mouths that it really wasn’t subtle. Except that Jack smiles and ducks his head a bit and says that he’d love to accept such an offer but he really doesn’t have to, they don’t even know each other, and then as soon as Boone says that after all he has served him drinks for four months everyone stands up because it’s clear how this is going to go.
As soon as Ana sees the suitcase, though, she bites her lip and looks at her two subordinates.
“You two. Have you seen those two fucking idiots around?”
“Who, if I may...”, Ben starts.
“You know who! Those two failed terrorists, the Russian one and that Keamy or how the fuck he’s called.”
“Not really,” Widmore answers.
“Well, then now you go searching them and throw them in the bullpen as soon as you do. Now, I said!”
When they hurry in two different directions she shakes his head, goes to the suitcase and opens it, followed by Desmond and Sayid. Of course there’s a hand made bomb inside.
“This one is even worse than the others.”
“Why?” Desmond asks.
“They didn’t even connect the wires.”
She shakes her head, closes the suitcase and calls Steve, telling him to throw it out somewhere; when he starts to complain, she answers that she speaks only with the sindacate and that Tom isn’t around, so why don’t you just move your ass now?
Steve does and Scott follows him.
--
It’s three in the afternoon and Maybelline Airlines’ flight 4 is leaving; Sawyer sits at the counter and has a look around, brushing away blond bangs from his eyes. He should really cut them.
Boone is at Sweet Tooth’s counter chatting animatedly with Rose, his cheeks flushed and looking completely and disgustingly giddy; Desmond and Sayid are having coffee in a table outside the Cockpit and Sawyer wonders if they really think that no one sees the way their feet touch under it. Shannon is reading a magazine on a seat near Constant Airlines’ gate, while Juliet is at the Cockpit’s counter chatting with Gault. Frank has put the fucking Forrest Gump soundtrack on and Sawyer laughs when Miles yells at him to turn that shit down, at which Frank answers that he can get his own sound system. Sawyer figures he should get one, if only to drive Miles even crazier.
Charlie and Claire have been hanging around in the shop since the morning and Sawyer lets them as long as they don’t have customers; some passengers go in and out of the restaurant while Richard still eyes Boone from outside.
Scott and Steve push a cart full of suitcases while Tom follows them, Linus and Widmore argue in a corner and Ana Lucìa tries to get them to shut up for a while before raising her hands and going to the Cockpit, too. He figures that no one cares if she drinks during service.
Kate waves at him when she passes by, headed in the clothes’ shop direction; he waves back, figuring that this evening or tomorrow morning she might feel like having an encouter.
If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair, if you're going to San Francisco you're gonna meet some gentle people there, for those who come to San Francisco, summertime will be a love-in there, in the streets of San Francisco gentle people with flowers in their hair.
That’s not so bad, truth to be told, even if it’s too fucking hippie. Maybe.
Well, he thinks, life could get much fuckin’ worse than this.
He gets comfortable in his chair while he hears Minkowski’s voice announcing the following flight.
Passengers of Maybelline Airlines flight 4, please board now. I repeat, Maybelline Airlines 108 is boarding now. All the passengers, please reach gate 8.
End.
elliotsmelliot, this one should actually get posted tomorrow because it's sort of your birthday present from yours truly, but since I don't know whether tomorrow morning I'll manage to be on enough to post fic and you'll read it then anyway, have it in advance ;) and yes, it's exactly what you think. And no, I don't think I forgot anything. I sincerely hope you like it and that you get the most awesome birthday. ♥Title: Come Fly With Me
Rating: Nc17 or sorts of
Pairings/Characters: Desmond/Sayid, hints of Charlie/Claire and Sawyer/Kate plus pre-Jack/Boone; then pretty much everyone, Scott, Steve and Mikhail included.
Word Count: 5900
Disclaimer: Read the summary. Do you think that Lost is mine?
Summary: Desmond and Sayid are pilots for Constant Airlines, owned by Hurley, and fly a plane where cookies baked by Claire are served; Juliet, Boone and Shannon are flight attendants, Richard owns the rival company Maybelline Airlines and Sawyer owns a bookshop in Dharma Airport, where life is never really boring. Especially when Frank owns the bar and two incapable terrorists leave around bombs that don't explode.
Spoilers: People, this is as AU as it gets. I'd say really no spoilers.
A/N: birthday fic for
elliotsmelliot, who is equally responsible as I am for its birth, since all of this spread out in a very insane conversation in her journal two months ago (and the title is hers, not mine ;) ). The setting and the roles are all born of common brainstorming and if I added something isn't really pivotal. If something doesn't work, it's my fault ;) using it for lostpicksix #25, passion. And now I'll go finish packing.Passengers of Maybelline Airlines flight 108, please board now. I repeat, Maybelline Airlines 108 is boarding now. All the passengers, please reach gate 8.
“Come on, Walt, it’s our flight! Hurry... Walt? Walt, where are you? Walt!”
“Michael, don’t scream! Jesus, he went to the bathroom after we left Vincent with that nice attendant, he’s coming right now!”
“Right. Sorry, Ma, it’s just that...”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Go on, I’m waiting for him here.”
James Ford owns the Tom Joad’s Bookshop, located in the lounge of Dharma Airport, which is in turn located in an international zone just outside Heroica Matamoros, exactly on the border that goes from Mexico to Texas. James is better known as Sawyer to everyone who works there for his own personal reasons and, right now, raises his head from the latest Atwood paperback that arrived this morning and shakes it slightly, positioning his glasses better.
He watches the family for a minute or so, it’s not like it’s news; they take this flight once every two weeks, he doesn’t know why, and he gets to witness their bickering each time. He’s frankly getting quite tired, to be honest, but hey, it’s a small airport from where only two airlines depart, there’s not much news. Of course, there are also those two women doing costal guard service on that Searcher plane and those other two Nigerian brothers who look like priests but he thinks are actually humanitarian workers. Even if once he thought they were drug smugglers. Whatever, he renounced to understand the matter years ago.
Anyway, he has come to see his little African American family passing each two weeks as a ritual or something. He knows that their name is Dawson, the middle aged guy is named Michael and is a comic book artist, the older woman is his mother and the kid is named Walt and for some reason he got to stay with his father just as of late. Also, they have a white Labrador named Vincent who shouldn’t actually be allowed in that zone but always is and that always gets something to eat at Rose and Bernard Nadler’s restaurant Sweet Tooth, which is actually in front of his shop. A lovely elderly couple, Sawyer thinks, and he also appreciates that they never make him pay for his lunch. He kind of admires them because getting married forty years before in Texas when he’s white and she’s black probably wasn’t the easiest ride ever, but hey, they look perfectly fine as of today.
He waits for the Dawsons to board that flight. To be honest, Sawyer doesn’t really like Maybelline Airlines as much as Constant Airlines, its direct opponent. Sure, his part time sales girl works also for Constant Airlines, but thing is, they’re way more fun. Maybelline Airlines is owned by this guy who looks very oriental or something, with dark skin and two eyelashes that earned him the Maybelline nickname (which he took as his company’s name with much irony), that always tries to steal that very pretty piece of ass of a flight attendant from Constant Airlines and at least it’s another source of fun.
Before starting to read Atwood again, he raises a hand to greet Scott and Steve, the two sort of handymans that have to load luggage on planes and clean them when they land, and Tom, their superior and only representative of the Luggage Loaders Union of Matamoros. Then he gets back on his book, this is a dead time anyway, when...
“Ford, you idiot, how many times did I tell you that you can’t leave your fucking empty boxes in my stockroom?”
Sawyer rolls his eyes, pulling the book away and stepping out of the shop, turning to Straume’s Toys, which is as the name obviously suggests a toys shop next to his. The owner’s name is Miles Straume and he’s a Chinese-something guy five years and a foot shorter than he is; his shop window is always full of Ghostbusters merchandise and he seems to love to spend time making his life even more boring, especially since he doesn’t want to acknowledge that the stockroom they have behind their shops is shared and Sawyer can keep all the fucking empty boxes he wants there.
“And how many times did I tell you that we share it? You haven’t bought that full and I haven’t, so just shut up and let me do my job.”
“Yeah, like you work.”
“Yeah, like you do. Oh, Jesus, I’m havin’ a drink.”
The bar is on the left side of the lounge and he can see the shop from there anyway. He makes to go, except that something runs into him almost throwing him on the ground.
Something that soon after reveals itself to be a someone, specifically Charlie Pace, former rock star and bassist with a group that Sawyer thinks was called Drive something and that has completely fallen in love with his sales girl two months ago when he passed here because of a tour. Of course he shows up each week now. He’s a blond guy, quite shorter than Sawyer is, blond short trimmed hair, a couple of nice brown eyes that he always hides behind ray-bans, a fake leather shirt because he’s an animal rights activist and always a band shirt. This time is Oasis.
“Oh, Sawyer. I was just...”
“Searchin’ for Claire. Yeah, yeah, like I didn’t know. She’s on board with her other job now, the flight’s landin’ in an hour. You can make yourself comfortable somewhere. I think Rose just baked apple pie this mornin’.”
“Oh, that’s just bloody awesome. Right, I’m waiting there!”
Charlie runs towards Sweet Tooth and Sawyer shakes his head, then walks towards the Cockpit . The counter isn’t empty, even if it’s just eleven in the morning; apart from Frank, the owner, who today wears a shirt with fucking Kenny Rogers’ face and a flowered scarf which actually quite match his silver beard, he can see Captain Gault, the airport’s air-traffic controller, and Kate, the local outlaw.
Right, maybe that’d require some explanation.
Gault ended up here a few months ago and seems quite satisfied with the placement, since there’s really not much work to do in the control tower and he always leaves his vice Minkowski to do the job while he hangs at the Cockpit ; he’s also quite a fine looking man, with a squared face, a bit of stubble, tanned skin. He knows it and half of the women at the check ins are head over heels for him, also because they find his Australian accent incredibly sexy. The other half die after the flight attendant that Richard Alpert aka the owner of Maybelline Airlines can’t manage to steal from Constant Airlines, but Sawyer kind of pities them, since everyone else knows that the kid obviously swings on the other side.
Kate is, well, an outlaw. In the United States at least, but anyway, Sawyer is pretty sure she’s wanted for at least a bank robbery and something else he doesn’t know. So she had tried escaping to Mexico, but since this airport is in an international zone and she couldn’t be arrested by Edward Mars, the Cameron County Marshal, until she was in there, nor by the Mexican police, she had been staying in the airport, sleeping in the camp bed of the bullpen thanks to the security supervisor, Ana Lucìa Cortez. She says that living in an airport is not so bad and Sawyer figures there could be worse, but he’s sure she’ll run from here one day. She gives him that impression.
Whatever, it hadn’t stopped more than a couple of brief but interesting encounters between them in the restroom at Sweet Tooth’s and it was fine like that. Now she’s having a sandwich.
“So, buddy, want a beer?” Frank asks him while he cleans the counter in front of him.
“That’d be too early in the mornin’ and day’s just begun. Give me a double coffee.”
“Fine. Your pick.”
Frank serves him the coffee and Sawyer nods at Captain Gault when he waves at him; the coffee is good and the day looks seemingly brighter for ten seconds when he hears bickering from the back of the lounge.
He turns and sees the two security guards, Linus and Widmore, arguing between themselves and a couple of poor tourists looking at one and then the other, completely hopeless. Shit, he thinks finishing the coffee and stepping in that direction.
“See, dear miss, my colleague Charles here has everything wrong. He can’t even remember where places are, but let me assure you that the bookstore is exactly on your right, along that corridor.”
“Ben, shut up! Mister, the bookstore is on the opposite side, don’t listen to him.”
“What the hell is happening now?”
Suddenly Ana Lucìa steps out of the small police station, shaking her head, her black, thick hair falling around her shoulders in waves before she ties them up in a knot. She arrives on the scene and eyes both of the guards badly.
“We’re at it again, you two? Why don’t you just cooperate for once? Miss,” she asks to the girl of the couple, “what do you want to know?”
“We were... just searching for a bookshop...”
Sawyer then steps forward and tries to clear the conversation.
“Well, looks like you ran into the bookshop’s owner. That ain’t at your left or your right, that’s straight there at the back of the lounge. I’ll be waitin’ for you both there.”
The girl nods and follows him with her boyfriend while Ana tries to scold those two. Sawyer knows that there really isn’t a chance, though; they always are like that and he doesn’t know how come both Alpert and Reyes, who owns Constant Airlines (and half of the airport with Alpert for that matter), haven’t fired those two. Right, Linus is a friend of Alpert’s or something and Widmore is the father of one of the Coast Guard women so good for the family business image they want to give, but... he just shrugs and looks at the clock, while he goes behind the counter and waits for the couple to choose their magazines or whatever. Just half an hour and then he’ll get his sales girl back and things will be quite more exciting.
At the same time, some 20000 feet up in the air and a good number of miles farther, over Texas
A delicious smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies suddenly fills the pilots’ cabin of Constant Airlines’ flight 16 and is cause of a sudden sigh from all the current occupants.
Desmond Hume, the pilot in charge, is wearing a dark blue suit with a red tie, his shoulder-length hair fall neatly on his shoulder, framing a tanned and triangular face with slender lines and a couple of warm brown eyes. He sits in front of the control panel and looks at the watch, nodding. Claire is perfectly on time as usual.
On the near chair sits his second, Sayid Jarrah; he’s wearing trousers which are the same as Desmond’s, but since he’s not the one in charge and this is Constant Airlines where no one is strict, he only has a white shirt and a jeans jacket with short sleeves. His curly, black and thick hair is tied into a ponytail; some curls fall over his face and a dark skin that seems almost golden in the bright sunlight.
Behind them stands Juliet Burke, the head stewardess; she’s wearing a smart blue uniform, her long and blond hair falls over her shoulders up to the middle of her back and her icy blue eyes turn for a second in their small airplane kitchen’s (which is located between the first class and the cabin). She licks her lips for a second before taking back a professional stance.
Next to her is Shannon Rutherford, the other female flight attendant, dressed with a uniform similar to Juliet’s if not for the fact that it’s pink and has a much shorter skirt, showing off two long and tanned legs; her blond, shiny hair is tied in a knot at the back of her head, her lips are pink with shiny lipstick and her brown eyes linger in the direction of the kitchen quite more than Juliet’s.
Behind Desmond’s seat stands Boone Carlyle, the only male flight attendant of the trio and object of desire of the other half of the clerks at the check in. He wears black trousers and a white short sleeved shirt with the logo of the airline; his hair is brown and soft, falling in soft waves over his neck, standing against a skin way paler than Shannon’s, who actually is his step sister. His full, pink lips curl into a smile as soon as the chocolate smell fills the room and he turns his enormous blue eyes in the kitchen’s direction.
A couple of seconds later a girl in her first twenties, who arrives more or less at Boone’s shoulder in height, with two huge blue eyes, a white apron, a cascade of blond hair falling over her shoulders and a lovely bright smile enters the cabin, pulling a tray full of freshly baked chocolate cookies.
“Claire, I believe that you outdone yourself this time, on the smell alone,” Sayid says, smiling at her.
“Why, thank you. Do you want to try one?”
“I will be most pleased.”
Sayid takes the cookie and breaks it in half carefully, eating one.
“It’s delicious. As I thought. Desmond, would you want the other half?”
“Aye, brother, thanks. Wouldn’t want to waste the ones meant for the passengers,” the pilot answers in a distinct Scottish accent while he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it for himself.
“Well, Claire, I think you just might begin to serve. We’re landin’ in a short while and...”
Suddenly Juliet’s pager starts to beep and she takes it out, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“Oh, again.”
“What’s that?” Shannon asks.
“That guy. It’s the third time today. And I’m sure he wants a drink, again. Can you take it?”
“Sure, but... you mean 23b? Oh, God. Why don’t you just dump the drink on his head one time?”
Suddenly Boone turns in Juliet’s direction.
“What? Have you said 23b?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Hell, Shan, you know that you have to turn that one to me. Juliet, I’ll take it. Claire, may I get three or four since I’m going now?”
“Oh, sure.”
Boone nods, passes a hand through his hair, takes a small tray, places there three cookies in a napkin carefully and then leaves the cabin, heading to the second class. Shannon nods at Juliet and Claire and they all peek out of the curtain separating the first class from the rows of seats.
23b is occupied by a handsome man in his first or mid thirties, dressed in a smart black suit, with very short dark brown hair, brown eyes, a shadow of stubble, a thin mouth and very regular lines on his face. He boards this flight two times each week and, from what Juliet, Shannon and Boone learned every time he asks for a drink (it’s at least three per flight and he’s been boarding here since four months), his name is Jack, he’s a quite affirmed spinal surgeon and takes that trip for work reasons.
Boone clears his throat before sporting his best smile and looking down at Jack.
“Did you wish for anything in particular?”
Jack raises his head and smiles just slightly, nodding; Shannon rolls her eyes when Boone’s cheeks immediately flush a deeper red than how they usually are on standard.
“Well, that wasn’t a very strong drink. The one they gave before. Maybe you have something stronger?”
Boone reaches into his pocket and slips a small bottle of vodka into Jack’s hand (it should be forbidden but no one cares, not on this airline really), then reaches for the napkin.
“We’re just about to serve our cookies as you probably imagined, but since I’m here, I figure you might like to try them in advance?”
“Oh, that’d be lovely. Which flavor this time?”
“Dark chocolate. You get the real pieces of chocolate inside, too.”
“Now that’s a package deal I can get behind.”
Boone smiles again and places the napkin lightly in Jack’s outstretched hand, then clears his voice again.
“I hope the rest of your flight with us is pleasant.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that it will.”
Boone nods at Jack and then goes back to the empty first class, where he earns a light slap from Shannon on his neck.
“Shan, the hell...”
“Now if that wasn’t shameless flirting... God, what the hell do you find in that guy anyway?”
“Oh, just shut up.”
“Just ask him out, for God’s sake.”
“Shan!”
At that point he’s blushing furiously and Juliet figures it’s time to get moving.
“Shannon, your turn with the cookies. Go.”
“Right, boss.”
She looks at Boone one last time and then heads out with the big tray, handing cookies to everyone in the second class but Jack; meanwhile, Desmond takes the speaker in his hands and clears his voice before turning it up.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Desmond Hume, your pilot in charge. Our descend towards Matamoros will begin in a couple of minutes and we will land in about half an hour. Please fasten your seatbelt now.”
--
When the landing is over, Juliet comes to the cabin alone, placing the tray with the left over cookies near Sayid’s seat.
“Everythin’ fine, sister?”
“Sure. Everyone got off safely, the cookies were excellent, Boone was very glad that 23b had a pleasant journey and I am the only one on board except for the both of you. Now, should I tell Scott and Steve to wait an additional half of an hour before they clean up as usual?”
“That would be very appreciated, Juliet.”
She smirks at Sayid and leaves the cabin; then Desmond picks up his cellphone and dials a number.
“Calling the boss as usual?”
“Aye. First duty then pleasure, brother.”
The phone rings a couple of times before a female voice answers; from the English accent and the not-so-pleasant tone, Desmond deducts that it’s Charlotte, the boss' secretary. Well, she actually is also a half caretaker for their most brilliant engineer, who is quite prone to short term memory loss.
“Constant Airlines, Los Angeles department, how can we help you?”
“Charlotte? Hi, sister. Desmond here.”
“Oh, hi. Is the flight over?”
“Aye. I was wonderin’ if I could talk to the boss?”
“In a couple of minutes. He’s with Sun and Locke figuring something out. You know, she had this idea about the perfect way to defeat her father’s company. You know, Paik. They want to buy a quarter of the airport off Maybelline. But Locke is arguing about accountancy and I guess the boss isn’t understanding much of the whole thing. And... oh, sorry. Daniel, damnit, that door isn’t the bathroom, it’s Sun’s office!”
Desmond chuckles slightly.
“Is he doing fine?”
“Sure, as soon as he just plans engines. I hate those memory losses, I so do. But at least he got the right door now and... oh, Sun and Locke are going out. One moment, I’m getting you through.”
“Thanks, sister. Good luck.”
“I’ll sure need that.”
There’s a click and then Desmond finally is on the phone with Hugo Reyes, Hurley for friends, header and owner of Constant Airlines, whose only rule for his pilots is to call him each time a flight has landed.
“Desmond? Hi, dude. So, you landed?”
“Aye. Very smooth flight, I’ve got to say.”
“Good. Listen, you think that Dan could drop by tomorrow with a couple of engineers? He thinks he found a way to get that plane of yours to fly faster with a few touches. Or, like, something similar. I don’t know really, he’s the expert.”
“Aye, sure. There weren’t flights scheduled for tomorrow anyway.”
“Any news? From the airport, I mean.”
“Two days ago, ‘fore we started for Los Angeles, there was that Maybelline guy that tried to get Boone to work for him.”
“Again? Desmond, that’s no news. He refused, right?”
“Aye, like there was a doubt ‘bout it. But nay, nothin’ else. I mean, Kate’s still there as long as I know. Oh, those two wankers tries with a bomb again three days ago.”
“Again? What happened?”
“Nothin’. Ana found it just as soon as they left it there, but it wasn’t gonna explode. She said the wires were wrongly put.”
“At least they’re so stupid that they won’t ever succeed. Right, fine. Call me tomorrow when Daniel’s done, right? Bye, dude. Say hi to Sayid for me.”
“For sure.”
Desmond closes the cellphone and places it into his jacket’s pocket; then carefully takes the jacket off and folds it over the ground, meeting Sayid’s eyes soon after. And he pretty much loves the glint they take each time he finishes a call to the direction.
“Have you done everything?”
“Aye, all taken care of. Well, duty’s done. Guess it’s time for the pleasure?”
“I would definitely second this motion.”
Then he eyes the tray, where are still a couple of left cookies.
“Now that would really be a pity to waste something so delicious, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, most definitely. I leave the matter in your hands.”
“That is a joy to hear.”
Sayid grabs the cookies and stands up, heading to the first class; Desmond follows him there and as soon as no one can see them from outside the hangar, Sayid’s left hand, which holds one cookie, is behind Desmond's neck and the right one near his mouth, the cookie safely placed between Sayid's fingers.
Desmond nudges his head forward and takes a small bite, then another, going as slowly as possible; as soon as the cookie is almost over, he takes between his lips both the remaining part and Sayid’s finger, licking away a couple of crumbs.
He suddenly can feel Sayid’s erection pressing against his leg, but when he’s done he just lets the finger go and takes the other cookie from Sayid’s hand behind his neck, reaching behind.
Then, while Sayid’s free right hand goes to the small of his back pushing him forward so that he ends up seated in the first row with Sayid on top of him, he does the same thing Sayid did and places the cookie just near his lips.
Sayid is seemingly more in a hurry than Desmond is because the cookie is gone in three bites and then Sayid’s mouth is on his and they’re both kissing. Desmond tastes chocolate on Sayid’s tongue and he guesses it’s the same for Sayid and oh, it feels just so good, even better than the time with the walnut cookies which had been the best up to now; Sayid’s hands get tangled in his hair and his own go to Sayid’s face, bringing him nearer while his tongue plunges deeper and now his trousers definitely feel small.
Unfortunately they only have a quarter of an hour before Scott and Steve come to clean and they have to hurry up, not that they won’t make up at Hurley’s four star hotel (well, he owns it) near the airport tonight anyway.
Sayid drops swiftly to his knees in front of the seat after he got rid of Desmond’s belt and lowered his trousers down; Desmond’s head pushed back against the seat and his hands gripped the armrests as soon as he feels Sayid’s mouth on his erection, taking him deep; he pushes his hips forward, a delicious heat surrounding him and shivers of pleasures running through his spine, increasing as he watches Sayid’s head raising up and then lowering down.
He doesn’t last much, as he had suspected; he comes in a rush, bliss filling him for a second before he opens his eyes again to Sayid smiling up at him with a certain malice and licking his sticky lips.
They end up with Sayid against the wall and Desmond in front of him, his hand in Sayid’s trousers, Sayid’s teeth biting lightly into his neck after a long, heated kiss; Sayid doesn’t last much more than he did and comes shivering against him and pushing his hips forward as Desmond keeps on stroking him.
When it’s over and they’re on their knees on the floor, they only have five minutes before Scott and Steve come; they hurry to the bathroom and clean themselves as best as they can, Desmond combs his hair back in place cursing Sayid for the ponytail that saved him the trouble and then they hurry out of the plane.
Desmond smiles when he notices the Searcher, the seaplane stored next to theirs in the hangar; not so much when he sees that the Question Mark, the one that belonged to the two Nigerians who he never really managed to place, isn’t. He figures they’re on a humanitarian mission, or maybe a religious one since they always dress as priests, and turns his attention back to the Searcher.
“So you’re back!”
He turns to the cheerful voice that comes from the entrance of the hangar and runs to embrace Penny, who works for the Cost Guard and who was sort of his guide on location when he first started working here a year ago, at Dharma Airport. They also had a more or less steady relationship for a while (specifically, four months), even if it never reached a serious degree. They had amicably split up before his former second pilot resigned to work for Maybelline Airlines (the idiot) and Sayid was hired in his place.
“Hi, Pen. Everything alright here?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Me and Danielle stopped a couple of idiots that were trying to fish in some protected area last day, but not much movement I have to say. You? Everything all right?”
“Sure. After the boss had that idea of the cookies flights are much more interesting.”
“I don’t doubt it. Oh, there is Danielle.”
Desmond turns in the direction Penny heads him, to see her colleague talking with Sayid; Danielle is still as he remembers her even if he hadn’t seen her in maybe six months. Dressed with clothes obviously cut for a male, long and unruly brown hair, sharp and deep lines on her face, her thin mouth always frowning while she seemingly rants to Sayid about idiotic tourists who don’t know nothing about preserving protected species’ habitats. They join the conversation for a while, then Sayid says that he really could do with a nice drink at the Cockpit and maybe something to eat at Sweet Tooth and they leave for the airport, while Penny and Danielle start their recognition and climb on their plane.
--
When Sawyer sees Desmond and Sayid descending arm in arm from the escalator, he rolls his eyes to an extent; everyone knows here and they pretty much take it for granted. Never he has seen a relationship in the airport last as long. Right, he and Kate still have their encounters, but it’s not like they have a relationship.
The Cockpit is full by now; Juliet, Gault, Minkowski and Shannon are there when Desmond and Sayid join them. He had lunch already, thanks; now he’s having much more fun watching Charlie and Claire. He had gone to her telling her that he was passing by (sure) and that he brought her a signed copy of his latest record, at which her lips had broken into a grin of delight. The girl was always searching for celebrities; Sawyer figures she had some dumb luck.
Suddenly he sees Frank looking particularly amused and he follows the direction he’s looking at; then he gets amused himself as soon as he sees Boone walking across the corridor with a suitcase, his pace fast, while Alpert follows him steadily.
“Come on, Carlyle! You know I would give you a much higher paycheck!”
“God, Richard, it’s the hundredth time you ask me. I don’t care for the money. I’m not coming to work for you, alright?”
“But I need someone like you! I mean, Danny and Percy and Colleen and Amelia are alright, but with a name like Maybelline I can’t have them only! Look at you, you’re just what I need and...”
“Richard, I said no!”
“Is this guy bothering you?”
When suddenly the spinal surgeon guy that sometimes buys the newspaper and Tom Clancy or Stephen King books at Sawyer’s (and for this Sawyer doesn’t really have a high opinion of the guy, truth to be told) appears in the lounge, the whole airport goes silent.
Oh, now this is fun, Sawyer thinks, leaving his place near the classics and coming closer to the trio. He has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees the way Boone is blushing.
“Oh, he was... uhm... not really, just asking a couple of questions I guess, but..:”
“Well, he can postpone this asking indefinitely. Can he?”
Richard nods, completely disorientated, and hurries back into the Maybelline Airlines offices. Boone turns back to the surgeon, looking completely embarrassed.
“I’m really sorry. He just... wants me to work for him and I always say no, but..:”
“Hey. No problem. Glad I could help.”
The surgeon turns and heads to the exit of the lounge; Sawyer catches Shannon looking at Boone like she wants to kill him and then mouth take the occasion, you dumb idiot. Boone suddenly seems shaken out of his trance and takes a couple of fast steps, catching up with the doctor and calling him back.
“Hey! I just... well, if you aren’t in a hurry, maybe I could say thanks by offering you something at the restaurant? It’s lunch time. Just if you...”
The doctor smiles just a bit and nods, sending Boone into stunned silence again.
“Sure. I’m in no hurry. But if you want to offer me something, at least call me Jack.”
--
Everyone gathers outside Sweet Tooth just after, except for Bernard and Rose (who are serving), Libby, a young woman inside the restaurant who has the peculiar habit of spending the entire day there giving away her things, and Paolo, the waiter.
Juliet, Frank, Miles, Desmond, Sayid and Gault stand on one side while Sawyer, Charlie, Claire and Shannon are on the other. Soon, they’re joined by Ana, who keeps on eying very badly the two security guards, Kate and Alex, who is Ben’s daughter and practically lives in the airport trying to hide from her father her relationship with Tom’s nephew, Karl, who shows up five minutes later. Tom, Scott and Steve arrive just soon after.
No one pays attention to two guys fumbling in the opposite corner of the room, both very tall and wearing military clothes; one speaks with a heavy Russian accent and wears a patch, while the other doesn’t speak much at all, has very short hair, looks like a mercenary and nods at everything the other says. They leave after five minutes and a suitcase that wasn’t in that corner before is showing now; but everyone is so involved in observing the first exciting thing that has happened here in a long that everything passes unobserved.
They both get an apple pie and make small talk; everyone learns that Jack commutes from Los Angeles to work a couple of days with a humanitarian organization in Mexico, which is by chance the same Boone works for on his free days. When Boone tells him that if he doesn’t want to pay for an hotel he has an apartment with two rooms in Brownsville, Shannon rolls her eyes and mouths that it really wasn’t subtle. Except that Jack smiles and ducks his head a bit and says that he’d love to accept such an offer but he really doesn’t have to, they don’t even know each other, and then as soon as Boone says that after all he has served him drinks for four months everyone stands up because it’s clear how this is going to go.
As soon as Ana sees the suitcase, though, she bites her lip and looks at her two subordinates.
“You two. Have you seen those two fucking idiots around?”
“Who, if I may...”, Ben starts.
“You know who! Those two failed terrorists, the Russian one and that Keamy or how the fuck he’s called.”
“Not really,” Widmore answers.
“Well, then now you go searching them and throw them in the bullpen as soon as you do. Now, I said!”
When they hurry in two different directions she shakes his head, goes to the suitcase and opens it, followed by Desmond and Sayid. Of course there’s a hand made bomb inside.
“This one is even worse than the others.”
“Why?” Desmond asks.
“They didn’t even connect the wires.”
She shakes her head, closes the suitcase and calls Steve, telling him to throw it out somewhere; when he starts to complain, she answers that she speaks only with the sindacate and that Tom isn’t around, so why don’t you just move your ass now?
Steve does and Scott follows him.
--
It’s three in the afternoon and Maybelline Airlines’ flight 4 is leaving; Sawyer sits at the counter and has a look around, brushing away blond bangs from his eyes. He should really cut them.
Boone is at Sweet Tooth’s counter chatting animatedly with Rose, his cheeks flushed and looking completely and disgustingly giddy; Desmond and Sayid are having coffee in a table outside the Cockpit and Sawyer wonders if they really think that no one sees the way their feet touch under it. Shannon is reading a magazine on a seat near Constant Airlines’ gate, while Juliet is at the Cockpit’s counter chatting with Gault. Frank has put the fucking Forrest Gump soundtrack on and Sawyer laughs when Miles yells at him to turn that shit down, at which Frank answers that he can get his own sound system. Sawyer figures he should get one, if only to drive Miles even crazier.
Charlie and Claire have been hanging around in the shop since the morning and Sawyer lets them as long as they don’t have customers; some passengers go in and out of the restaurant while Richard still eyes Boone from outside.
Scott and Steve push a cart full of suitcases while Tom follows them, Linus and Widmore argue in a corner and Ana Lucìa tries to get them to shut up for a while before raising her hands and going to the Cockpit, too. He figures that no one cares if she drinks during service.
Kate waves at him when she passes by, headed in the clothes’ shop direction; he waves back, figuring that this evening or tomorrow morning she might feel like having an encouter.
If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair, if you're going to San Francisco you're gonna meet some gentle people there, for those who come to San Francisco, summertime will be a love-in there, in the streets of San Francisco gentle people with flowers in their hair.
That’s not so bad, truth to be told, even if it’s too fucking hippie. Maybe.
Well, he thinks, life could get much fuckin’ worse than this.
He gets comfortable in his chair while he hears Minkowski’s voice announcing the following flight.
Passengers of Maybelline Airlines flight 4, please board now. I repeat, Maybelline Airlines 108 is boarding now. All the passengers, please reach gate 8.
End.
