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Sam Winchester ([info]demonboyking) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-04-02 00:44:00

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Entry tags:!complete, day 02, location: museum, sam winchester, shannon rutherford

Day 2 - Night
Who: Sam and Shannon
What: Sam and Shannon meeting face to face
When: Day 2, night
Where: Art Museum
Rating: PG-13

Sam was tired.  The events of the day were finally beginning to get to him.  The truth was he just wanted to fall into a bed somewhere, anywhere.  Even the hardest motel mattress was better than the wooden floor he'd stretched out on last night in the clock tower.  His exhaustion wasn't just physical either.  It'd been a trying day mentally as he'd kept working the puzzle of all of them being there over and over in his mind as well as emotionally as he'd struggled with feelings of guilt over not being able to fully protect Luna or Andy from getting hurt.  Not only that but the thought that Dean might be out there somewhere, or that he'd been abducted for some kind of test of his own had been worming it's way into his thoughts all day.  He was almost certain that the Dean the Doctor had described had been his brother.   But if it was, why hadn't he let Sam know that he was there?  Sam was pretty sure that Dean could take on a normal wild animal without much trouble, but he knew as well as any hunter that all it took was one moment with your guard down to get yourself in trouble.

He stopped in front of the museum, looking at the sign posted on the door and feeling a tired smile stretch across his face despite himself.  He had a feeling that Shannon had expected him much earlier and wasn't sure if her invitation still stood.  Still, the thought of a dry place to lay out with the warmth of a fire prompted him reach out and knock on the heavy door.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited, slouching slightly as he stared blankly at the door in front of him.  He knew he had a couple of hours ahead of him before he could rest.  Shannon had talked about sleeping in shifts and that wasn't a bad idea, though he had an idea that it wouldn't make much difference.  He didin't think it would be a problem staying up much longer, considering the fact that there was a part of him who was afraid of where he'd be when he opened his eyes again.


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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-02 03:02 am UTC (link)
Struggling to keep her eyes open was making Shannon even more uncomfortably both physically and psychologically than she was willing to endure. After the sun had gone down, the air had gotten colder. In an effort to keep herself awake, she'd pushed the desk away from the door and headed out into the rain, standing in it, shivering, and letting it soak through her sweater and the rest of her clothes. Even with the torch back inside, there was no way she could be warm wearing wet clothes and the torch wasn't quite enough heat to dry them very quickly. It would have to do, because like hell she was going to sleep all alone after what she'd heard had happened to Sam and his friends.

And speaking of Sam, she thought bitterly, he'd apparently decided to decline her offer after all without even saying so much as a word. She wasn't surprised, but she was unhappy. Maybe she should've brought Jay back with her, after all. At the very least, she wouldn't be alone and at the very best, if something happened maybe he could prove himself useful and help her out. At least she wouldn't have to go at anything unexpected all alone if she'd brought Jay back, even if it would've probably meant enduring more come-ons that he probably thought were pretty damn slick when they were far from it.

Sitting on the floor in front of the torch, Shannon drew her knees up to her chest and shivered again as the cold, wet sweater pressed against her legs. A puddle was forming around her on the floor, because she hadn't bothered to wring out the clothes this time around. She had no intention of it. The less comfortable she was, the less likely she was to nod off, she figured.

A knock at the door startled her and she whipped her head around to look at the door. Her heart thumped in her chest and she wasn't sure she should answer this late. Even if it was Sam, so what? The seeds of doubt Sarah had planted were already growing. Should she trust him? Even if she should, at this point, could she?

Shannon rose to her feet and pushed the desk out of the way again, tendons standing out in her arms and neck as she did so as silently as she could. Which was to say...not very silently at all as the desk's legs dragged loudly against the floor. She took the two-by-four out of its hiding place, wedged under the desk tightly, with a grunt of effort and walked slowly to the door, raising it up to strike. Swallowing thickly, she released her hold on it with one hand and reached for the doorknob. ...and then stopped, gripping the piece of wood tightly with both hands again.

"Who is it?" she ventured in as confident a voice as she could muster. "And prove it," she added before the person on the other side could answer her question. If it was Jay or Sam, she'd know it, she thought, because there were plenty of ways she could think of that they could plead their case for their identity. Hell, even if it was Cheryl, George, or the Doctor, they'd be able to tell her something unique to the conversations between she and themselves. Like hell she was opening the door for just anyone, especially someone she hadn't met in person with the ever-wavering exception of Sam, even if she had talked to them on the journals.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-02 10:53 pm UTC (link)
Sam could hear movement on the other side of the door. Remembering that Shannon had said she'd moved a desk in front of it. He shivered as a bit of evening breeze blew past him cooled his wet clothes. Not only that, but since the sun had set the temperature had dropped and he was forgetting what it was like to have a dry piece of clothing on. He heard a female voice call out to him on the other side of the door.

"It's Sam, the quarter giant," Sam said, trying to let his deadpan voice carry through the wood. He listened for a sound from the other side and when he didn't hear anything he moved closer to the door. "It's just me," he added a moment later. "I haven't told anyone else where you are."

He was starting to worry that something wasn't right on her end. That maybe she was in trouble, though the thought of her being scared wasn't hard to believe either. Especially with the way she'd reacted at the news of them being abducted. And with her description of the Others.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, turning his ear up to the door. "Shannon?"

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-02 11:30 pm UTC (link)
Sam the quarter giant, huh? Shannon smiled a little in spite of herself, although still tense, but when he added that it was just him and he hadn't told anyone else where she was, she relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. That was proof enough for her.

Although, then again, so what? If he hadn't been lying about his height, then he was bigger than she was. And what if he really was an Other pretending to be one of those being held captive? What if he'd made himself sound so trustworthy and driven to leave specifically to get the rest of them to rally around him and then, with that, what if he planned on dragging ass, or worse, sabotaging the plan to leave entirely with intentional mistakes along the way?

The smile had long since dropped away when Sam called out to her again, asking if she was okay. "I'm so fucking far from okay it's not even funny," she replied, her voice wavering insecurely and still gripping the two-by-four like a baseball bat. Taking a few steps back, Shannon readied herself to clock him with it if he tried anything even remotely intimidating, aggressive, or creepy. "It's open, just come in," she added. No way in hell was she going to open the door for him and put herself directly in any line of fire he might have at the ready. She was smarter than that.

Shannon took a deep breath, holding it as her heart raced. He could be just anyone, or he could be one of the Others. Granted, the Others were probably still back on Craphole Island, but it was easier than coming up with another name for the people who were clearly running the show here. She wasn't going to be taken off guard, not like Claire. Not here, not now, not ever. Her eyes were trained on the door and she was ready to strike, even if she hoped like hell that she wouldn't have to. She didn't want to. She wanted Sam to be the nice guy that he portrayed himself as on the journals. She wanted him to be this place's equivalent to Jack; to take the reins and keep them all safe. A few hours ago, she was confident that he was all of those things. Now, she wasn't so sure.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-04 06:33 pm UTC (link)
Sam found himself smiling at her answer. Shannon definitely had a way with words, not that he could blame her seeing that she was stuck in this place with the rest of them. Not that the last place she'd been in had sounded much better. He moved forward to push the door open slowly, not entirely convinced that the cursing wasn't a show of bravado. She was obviously scared.

Something that became more apparent when he had stepped inside and found a shaking blonde holding a piece of wood like a baseball bat looking all too ready to knock his head off if he said or did anything wrong.

Maybe he should've been alarmed at this sudden turn of events, but the truth was, Sam was kind of relieved that someone was finally taking their situation seriously. He held his hands up to show that he was unarmed and didn't mean her any harm. He cracked a tired smile, hoping to put her at a little ease. "Hi."

He turned slightly to shut the door, glancing at the desk to the side. "Should I move that back or..." He lowered his hands. "Shannon, I'm not going to hurt you."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-04 07:03 pm UTC (link)
When the door started to open, Shannon took another step back and raised the two-by-four a little higher. Then, in walked Sam, holding his hands up defensively, his shadow nearly drowning her in darkness, for the awkward angle of the way the dim torch light hit his tall, broad frame. Shannon couldn't tell anymore whether she was shaking because she was cold, afraid, or a combination of the two, but she was pretty sure it was the latter.

"Hi," she replied quietly. She could see, even in the scant lighting, that he looked tired when he gave her a smile before shutting the door. Reflexively, she took another few steps back. She watched him warily as he glanced over at the desk and asked whether he should move it back in front of the door. "Yes, please," she replied. There were other ways to get out if she had to; Sam barricading the front door wouldn't prevent her from breaking and climbing through a window in the gallery room down the hall...and she'd already moved a dusty fire extinguisher so that it was within quick reach to do just that.

Sam lowered his hands and told her he wasn't going to hurt her. She was, possibly against her better judgment, inclined to believe him, so she slowly lowered the two-by-four again without putting it down or away. Before the Island, Shannon had never known paranoia of a level any deeper than whether or not someone she counted a friend was talking badly about her behind her back. This was a whole new level of freaky that Shannon had no choice but to try and comprehend.

A cold chill shuddered through her and Shannon sighed. "Sorry," she finally said, putting down the piece of wood and looking him up and down. "No offense, but you don't look like a giant to me, quarter or otherwise. I've met bigger guys," she joked weakly. "You want first shift? For sleeping, I mean?"

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-04 10:08 pm UTC (link)
Sam nodded and moved the table back in place with little effort. He turned back towards her, taking in her wet appearance, despite the fact that the place looked as sturdy as she'd bragged about. "Were you out?" Sam asked, nodding towards her wet clothes. "Or is there a leak somewhere?" If so he could try to fix it. The clocktower might not have been ideal but it'd been mostly dry.

She lowered the weapon but didn't put it down or away. Sam swallowed, not sure how not to come off as menacing, especially since his height seemed to be something that most people zoomed in on around here. Without knowing it he slouched forward slightly when he put his hands in his pockets. They stood there for a moment and then she broke the silence with an apology.

"It's okay," Sam said, looking slightly relieved when she put down the piece of wood. "I'd rather you be more safe than sorry. He grinned at her comment on his height. "Thanks."

"I'll keep watch, you sleep," Sam said, trying to get a good look at his surroundings from the dim light from the torch. It managed to illuminate the area only within a couple of feet of it. What he was most aware of from studying what he could see from it was the fact that Shannon was attractive. He cleared his throat suddenly feeling kind of awkward.

"Where do you sleep?" He asked, looking away from her and peering further into the cavernous room they were in.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-04 11:16 pm UTC (link)
"I went out," Shannon replied, rolling her eyes at herself and giving him a weak smile. "I was getting tired but I was too scared to sleep," she admitted. "So, I went outside and stood in the rain until I couldn't feel my fingers anymore from the cold and then came in and sat over there," she said, pointing toward the puddle left on the floor beside the torch. "I was too cold to be tired. Woke me right up..."

Sam's body language was not lost on Shannon. She knew it well; Boone did it all the time. Or rather, he had. At least she knew the makeshift weapon was intimidating, even to a guy Sam's size. That made her feel a lot better. The relief on his face when she'd put it down made her feel even better still. "You're welcome," she replied, giving him a small smile back. His almost impish grin reminded her of Charlie, though, and her smile slowly faded away again. It was a horrible thought that Charlie was probably safer on Craphole Island than Shannon was here...and at least he was with Jack and Sayid. Shannon had Sam. She hoped it would be at least a close comparison.

He said he'd keep watch and she could sleep first, but unless the fire was making just the right shadows dance around his face, he looked more tired than she felt just then. "Are you sure? I'm kind of awake now..." she reminded him. She didn't want to point out that he looked tired as hell in spite of his - thank GOD - boyish good looks, which were also not lost on Shannon. People's appearances never were lost on her. As much as she hated to admit it, their looks were the first thing she noticed and judged.

"Uh...just..." Shannon let her voice trail off and gestured vaguely toward the floor. "It's warm and dry, but it's not exactly the Ritz or anything," she added with a weak smile. "There's a ton of rooms, but this one had the least amount of shit on the floor." With that, she moved closer to him and pulled the torch out of its place on the floor. "C'mon, I'll show you," she added, starting toward the hall and assuming he'd follow. She thought to grab the two-by-four again but decided against it. He'd be kind of an idiot to try to attack her when she was carrying a stick on fire, after all, she thought.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-05 12:20 pm UTC (link)
"Oh," Sam said, raising his eyebrows as if he were slightly impressed. "That's smart. You must be freezing though." He had never realized how much of a luxury towels and blankets were. Or even a decent change of clothes. His clothes were pretty filthy from two days of use and mud crawling, but he hadn't been able to go to the thrift shop that had been mentioned in the journals and he seriously doubted that they would have anything in his size. Still, if he was right about the experience this morning being some kind of test, maybe they would. Not that it would make him feel better about their situation.

"Nah, I'm fine," Sam said, widening his eyes slightly to prove it. The whole point of him coming was to make her feel a little safer. He wasn't sure how he'd do that by taking the first sleep shift for himself. Besides, he wasn't exactly looking forward to falling asleep. He has half afraid the yellow eyed demon would pay him a visit and tell him this was all his doing and that Cold Oak was going to repeat itself. Still, she had a point, if she couldn't get back to sleep after freezing herself awake, maybe he should take the first shift. Just a short one. "Unless you're too cold now," he said sympathetically. He almost wished he still had his jacket to give to her, but he had a feeling Merope needed it.

Sam looked around the room and smiled at her comment about the Ritz. "The Ritz isn't exactly my kind of place anyway," Sam said, suddenly aware of her nearness as she reached past him for the torch. He was glad for the fact that it was too dark to really make out anything, since he could feel the involuntary warming of his face. He rolled his eyes at himself as Shannon moved away. He was being an idiot. Okay, so she was good looking. That didn't mean anything. It shouldn't mean anything. He was tired and not thinking straight. There were more important matters at hand. Like who was sleeping first and if there was anything useful here in the museum that they could use for warmth or for escape.

He reached up and rubbed his face, trying to keep alert and clear his tired thought processes. He'd kill right now for some caffeine. A steaming cup of coffee had never sounded so good. Even if it was the kind of black lava that diners served on the graveyard shift. He'd take it in a heartbeat. He stepped after Shannon, following the light down the hall and trying to be careful not to trip on anything.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-05 12:54 pm UTC (link)
Shannon gave Sam a weary smile. "Stranded on a scary island before this, remember?" she asked, shivering and hugging herself. People had mentioned a thrift store...maybe she'd see if she could find it after going to the pharmacy with Domeki in the morning. She had the sinking feeling that a place like that wouldn't have anything she'd find acceptable in a normal sense, but beggars couldn't be choosers, she knew. "But yeah, I'm freezing," she agreed. She sort of hated to admit it to him, but then again she was shaking like a leaf; lying to him would've been pointless.

As Sam widened his eyes slightly to try to prove that he wasn't tired, Shannon arched an incredulous eyebrow. He didn't look fine to her, but if he wanted to be Mister Macho and have her take the first shift for sleep, she wasn't going to fight him. Shannon might be frozen to the bone, but she was still tired. "Tired trumps cold," she replied, "if you're sure you're okay..."

The sympathy in Sam's voice and the way he looked around the room without advancing on her was doing much to make Shannon more comfortable with his presence. Shannon didn't really have a choice but to trust him now that he was here; not if she wanted to get any sleep, anyway. Although, as glad as she was for him being there, she still wished he was Sayid. Hell, she'd even take Sawyer at this point, if for no other reason than the fact that even if she kind of hated Sawyer because he was such a smug little asshole, she'd know he wouldn't hurt her. She just had to hope Sam wouldn't.

Looking over her shoulder at Sam, she raised her eyebrows again and stopped before getting too far down the hallway. "No?" she asked. So then, back in the real world he was either new money or no money. No financial security...no need to keep him around after they left. Oh well, if he was a square peg and she was a round hole, it wouldn't work anyway. The analogy made her set her jaw and blush slightly, rolling her eyes at herself before holding the torch out to Sam.

"Here, take this for a second," she said and once he'd taken it, she walked past him again, shrugging off the sopping and still-dripping sweater and wringing it out. If he was going to let her sleep first, then she needed to allow herself to get warm enough to try. Hanging the sweater over the top of the desk to dry, Shannon ran her icy hands over her bare arms and pushed the straps of her tank top back into place before taking the torch back from Sam. For a split second, she hesitated to move away from him; even though he was wet from having been outside, she could still feel the body heat radiating off him. Shaking her head, though, as if to push away that thought, she started down the hall again.

"We should make you a torch...you'll have to stay really close otherwise because this one's kind of small," she said almost apologetically. "Oh, and there's a few Red Bulls over by my kit, actually...if you want one. After I left the gas station earlier, I realized I should probably grab some, so I snatched a four-pack. ...I already had two," she admitted sheepishly as she looked over her shoulder at him again. "They're warm and kind of gross, but they work if you drink 'em fast enough. I've still got the jitters," she laughed. While Shannon wasn't keen on sharing anything, if Sam was even a fraction of as tired as the poor guy looked, he'd probably need it. Before she could stop herself, she added, "and there's a few Slim Fast bars; I ganked a ton of 'em, if you want one. I haven't had a chance to go to the church and get any of the food Sarah said she brought back there, so I don't have anything else. Sorry..."

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-05 11:20 pm UTC (link)
"Right," He said, as she indicated that tired trumps cold. He wasn't exactly warm himself, but he was sure he wouldn't have any problems dropping off when he let himself. "Yeah, I'm sure," he said, giving her a small smile.

"No," he said as she gave him a surprised look about his reponse to the promise of the Ritz. He fought back the urge to tell her how much his sleeping quarters was different from the Ritz, not really wanting to give off the impression that he was the type that stayed in shady motels on a regular basis. Even if he was.

She held the torch out to him and he took it, noting how much longer it had to burn. He looked over at Shannon just in time to see bare shoulders emerge as she shrugged off her sweater. He stood up a little straighter and swallowed, listening to the sound of the water from her sweater hit the floor before she moved to hang it up. He glanced upwards at the ceiling, when he realized that he might be looking a little too intently. A moment later she was in front of him, taking the torch back and he gave it back to her easily, careful to meet her eyes when he talked to her. "Did you just stumble on this place?" He asked as he followed her down the hall.

He felt his face warm again in the darkness at the implication that they'd have to stay close to stay warm. His mouth tightened in disapproval at himself. He sounded like Dean. He could only imagine the kind of comments his brother would be making right about now. And the kind of lines he would've already fed Shannon. Unless he realized just how scared she was, and it'd be hard not to, then Sam wanted to believe his brother would lay off with just a side comment here or there. He felt a small pang in his chest as his thoughts shifted from Shannon's shoulders to Dean's unknown whereabouts. Shannon had been talking for a couple of seconds before he realized she was pointing things out. He tried to focus on her voice, quickly picking up the context.

"Right," he said, reaching out and popping open a Red Bull. It wouldn't hurt. And the last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep when Shannon was counting on him not to. He took a long sip, the carbonated harshness tickling his throat. It wasn't coffee, but he guessed it would have to work. His shoulders fell at the mention of the church and he sighed heavily. "Man, I'm sorry," he said, giving her an apologetic look. "I was just there. I should've brought you some apples or something. We can go get some in the morning if you want." He looked at the Slim Fast bars. "No, we'd better ration them. I'm okay. I had two apples before I left."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-05 11:52 pm UTC (link)
As Shannon made her way down the hall, gesturing vaguely at the different rooms in their varied states of decay and destruction, Shannon slowed so that Sam could walk beside her. Beside the fact that it'd be warmer, she thought, to stand next to him than in front of him, she felt weird and uncomfortable about a guy his size that she'd just minutes ago met in person being out of her line of sight.

Looking up at him, she nodded. "Yeah...you could say that. I looked around at a few places I saw on the way up the road - except the clock tower, go figure; I skipped that one - but this one looked pretty good to me and so I kind of called dibs," she explained. If she was in a different mindset, she could perhaps consider the parallel between choosing the largest and nicest looking building she'd seen along the way as her shelter and the upbringing she'd had. Sam said he wasn't used to the Ritz. Shannon was. Or had been, in any case.

After the short and admittedly lackluster tour, Shannon turned them around to head back out to the main room where she'd been staying. She pushed a few stray pieces of hair off her cheeks where they'd been sticking from being still wet and looked over at Sam reflexively when she heard him crack open the Red Bull. Even if she'd refrain from saying so aloud, it was kind of a relief that he'd taken her up on having the energy drink.

She furrowed her brow a bit in confusion when he sighed and his shoulders slumped as he apologized. But when he explained, Shannon's shoulders slumped slightly along with his. "Oh. Yeah, tomorrow sometime, I'll be fine. I had a cookie dough Slim Fast about an hour ago," she said with a small, half-grin.

Wrapping her free arm around herself, Shannon moved away from Sam, shoving the end of her torch back into the floor until it wedged and stood up on its own. She turned back to Sam, then, hugging herself to keep warm. At least she'd stopped shaking. "Okay, big guy, got your matches?" she asked, smirking. "You're gonna learn how to make a torch."

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-06 02:47 am UTC (link)
Sam took in the different rooms, mentally categorizing the old furniture that might be able to be used as fire fodder. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of town this tiny with no discernible houses would have an art museum. It didn't make any sense. The placement of everything in this town was so abstract, and not exactly useful. He didn't know what kind of people would use this place as a town center, even if it hadn't been used in years or decades. "It's a nice piece of real estate," Sam said, as she finished up the tour and began to lead the way back to the front.

The Red Bull and the apples didn't seem to agree and Sam stopped guzzling the yellow liquid after half a can and a queasy feeling in his stomach, deciding to save the rest for later. He returned her half-grin, glad at least that she hadn't been starving and he'd forgotten the only foodstuffs they'd come across yet. He hoped that he'd be able to find some kind of way to cook the meat. It was kind of ironic that as much as he knew about supernatural hunting, he knew nothing about regular hunting or preparing food that had been hunted. Not that the idea of eating wolf meat was all that appealing, still he guessed it was better than nothing.

Sam blinked at her for a moment and then turned to put his drink down on the table blocking the door. "Uh, yeah," he said, producing his kit from the back of his jeans where he'd normally keep a gun if he were carrying one. He pulled out the matches, long fingers flipping the book open for her inspection.

"You said you made it out of canvas?" He asked, looking around the room.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-06 03:50 am UTC (link)
Shannon laughed. "I believe ya," she replied, shaking her head when he held out the matchbook for her to look at. "Mmmhmm," she agreed. "The paintings," she added to clarify, moving away from Sam to cross the room, taking another oil painting off the wall and heading back over to him. She set the painting down on the desk beside Sam's Red Bull and crouched down, making sure to sweep her skirt down around herself as she did so. Pulling open the bottom door of the dresser, she took out the container of tacks and held her skirt in place as she stood again.

Looking over her shoulder at him, she felt a strange swell of pride not unlike the one she'd felt when Sayid had found out she was able to tie perfect bolen knots. She grinned and turned to face him, leaning back against the desk. "You need me to do it for ya or just supervise and talk you through it?" she asked with a wink.

For the first time, Shannon really looked at Sam. His build was intimidating, but he had a face she wanted to trust...and eyes that she thought she could. Her grin softened. "Thank you for coming," she said sincerely. "I thought maybe you changed your mind."

Everyone gets a new life on this Island, Shannon. Maybe it's time you start yours.

Shannon could do that here, too, right? New location, new guy to take care of her; new life. She'd teach Sam how to make a torch and he'd take care of her. Shit, he'd already said he'd meant to bring her food and he was going to stay awake and keep watch while she slept. If she could talk him into helping her stay warm while she tried to sleep, she'd be all set.

Admittedly, she felt a little guilty replacing Sayid so easily and quickly, but it wasn't like she was falling in love with Sam or anything. God, he was just there to help her out. She had no plans of replacing that part of Sayid's role in her life. Not anytime soon, anyway. Unless Sam required some sort of repayment for his help in which case he would be just like every other guy and wouldn't remind her of Sayid in the least. She'd pay up and she might even like it, because he wasn't too bad looking, but she wouldn't ever trust him if that was the case. Sayid was someone she could trust.

Speaking of which, it occurred to her that she wasn't afraid of Sam anymore, at that point. The thought brought a small smile back to her face as she pulled herself out of her own head and looked back up at him, giving him a small, sheepish smile. To get back on track, she appreciated that he'd come after all and was glad that she hadn't acted on the fear planted by Sarah. While it was obviously still subject to change, Sam didn't seem like a threat anymore.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-06 09:33 pm UTC (link)
Sam watched her move as she took down the painting and put it on the desk, his matchbox still in the palm in his hand. There was something graceful about her movement, a certain kind of fluidity that he wasn't used to. She smiled at him over her shoulder and he swallowed. He folded his fingers around the matchbook, and moved towards the desk as she turned towards him.

"Maybe just supervise," he said, giving her a grin when she asked if he wanted her to do it for him. He looked down at the tacks and then at the painting and wondered how long it'd taken Shannon to work through the canvas. He hesitated in mentioning the hunting knife he still had with him, afraid he'd startle her. If she found out he had it later, however, that would look much worse and he was going to have to sleep sometime. "Uh, actually, I might have something that will help with the cutting," he said, slowly. He crouched down, working his jean leg up. He paused when she thanked him for coming. "Your welcome," he said, a little awkwardly. "Yeah, sorry. I got...held up."

The sudden reminder of Andy's behavior made him shake his head slightly. He would've been here at least a good hour earlier if he hadn't had to stay with Luna. Not that he minded. He didn't want anything to happen to the cheerful blonde, but the fact that Andy had gone off on his own not entirely knowing just how dangerous this place could be was a bit of foolhardiness that he was finding hard to forgive. Andy hadn't exactly made it any easier when he'd made his smart ass comment about being a Winchester. Sam swallowed, the fresh rush of frustration doing more than the red bull to wake him up.

He pulled the knife out of the place it'd been wedged between his sock and shoe and put it on the table, careful to do it in a way that was as non-threatening as possible, with the handle pointing towards her and the blade towards him. He straightened up. "A reward for surviving this morning," he said. "It should come in useful."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-07 12:40 am UTC (link)
Nodding, Shannon shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I can do that," she replied easily. Seeing as how I'm mostly only good for sitting on my ass and staring at things, if you ask my brother, she found herself thinking. The smile faded slightly and even moreso when Sam said he had something to help with the cutting, crouching down and pulling up his pant leg.

Shannon froze, swallowing thickly and nodding in response to him saying he'd been held up. Held up how? She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but already she was scolding herself for being so quick to trust while she scoped out the fastest exit route. No matter which way she went, he'd be in the way. Shit, shit, shit!

Her eyes moved back to Sam's hand and widened slightly when he pulled out a knife. She licked her lips, watching him carefully as he laid it down so the handle was facing her and said that it had been a reward for surviving the morning. Stiffly, Shannon nodded. Locke had been big on knives. And had no problem throwing them at Sawyer's head, narrowly missing the other man on one occassion. Her eyes moved back up to Sam's face, gauging his expression warily.

"Right," she said with another stiff nod. She cleared her throat. "Uh, so, you just have to cut it out of the frame, first and then if you make a few slices, you'll be able to pull a few strips to tie the canvas onto a stick. There's a few more chair legs over there," she said, pointing rather than going to retrieve them for him this time.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-07 09:40 am UTC (link)
Sam didn't miss the way Shannon stiffened beside him and the sudden change in her expression, though he could tell she was trying not to let him see it. She was staring at the knife on the table in front of them and he wondered how he could possibly convince her that he was a good guy. In a way he was relieved that she was being so careful and wary, he much preferred that than someone underestimating just how much trouble they could be in, but on the other hand it made things so much harder.

He met her eyes when she looked up at him. He debated whether or not to tell her again that he wasn't going to hurt her, though he wasn't sure it would make any difference. If anything it may come across as sounding like he wanted her to trust him too much. He figured actions would speak clearer than words, anyway.

"Right, okay," Sam said, his voice soft and low as he turned his back on her and the knife and moved over to the three legged chair in the corner. He kicked one of the legs down with his foot then worked it back and forth with his hands until he could pull it loose. He brought the leg back, setting it on the table before picking up the knife. He didn't look at her as he started following her instructions, afraid that maybe he was making her fears worse by being too aware of them. He tried to think of something, anything, to take her mind off their current situation. "So what do you do normally?" He asked, glancing up at her as he cut the strips. "I mean when you're not stuck on craphole island or curating a ghost town's only art museum."

He set the knife down on the table and stepped away from it as he started to tie the fabric around the chair leg.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-07 01:08 pm UTC (link)
Sam seemed to be either oblivious to or actively avoiding the fact that Shannon was pretty obviously uncomfortable with the knife and the fact that not only had he had it, but it had been concealed. But, he moved away and went to work breaking one of the legs off the chair, so Shannon stood still and watched him. She moved off to the side to give him room to work when he returned to the desk and wrapped her arms around herself against the chill in the air. He'd been inside for a while, but just the short time he'd had the door open had negated all the warmth she'd managed to store in the large room; she'd have to start over. At least with a second torch, it might be faster the second time around.

Shannon didn't realize she'd been watching, mainly, his arms and hands as he worked, until he broke the silence and she had to look up to see his face. "Huh? Oh, uh..." she stalled. Nothing, because I'm not good at anything. "I was a ballet teacher," she replied. It wasn't entirely a lie; she had been, but it had been years ago. She'd spent the past couple of years using Boone to swindle the money she felt she deserved out of Sabrina. Shannon was fairly certain that didn't count as work and that was the inference behind his question. "What about you? When you're not fighting off wolves and being a giant?" she asked with a smirk.

When Sam set the knife down and started to tie the fabric around the chair leg, Shannon cleared her throat. "Um, you want to make sure that the painting part is facing up, because it kind of acts like a buffer or something," she pointed out. "Like, if you light it up, the oil paint ignites instead of the actual canvas, so it lasts longer. You know, like when you spray perfume or something and light your jeans on fire, it just sets the perfume on fire first and you have time to blow it out before it actually burns your leg..." her voice trailed off and she wrinkled her nose, blushing. "Maybe that's just something bored little rich girls do for kicks, I don't know," she finished sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-08 10:26 am UTC (link)
He nodded slightly when she said she'd been a ballet teacher. That explained the gracefulness of her movements. Jess had dragged him to a production of Swan Lake once. He'd enjoyed watching her reaction to it more than the actual dancing itself. He smiled to himself, remembering the way she'd gotten to her feet at the end and clapped, then reached down and pulled him up, urging him to follow suit. The two hours of boredom had been worth it, just for the way she practically sparkled afterwards. He was suprised to find that for the first time the thought of Jess didn't hurt. "How long have you been dancing?" he asked, glancing up at her.

He smiled at her question, giving her an amused look. "You mean on my off days?" He joked. He thought it was probably best to keep things as simple as possible. "I was a law student at Stanford, but I took some time off to go on a roadtrip across country with my brother." That was definitley putting it lightly.

Sam stopped winding the fabric and gave her a mildly impressed look as she started explaining why the oil side should be face up. In his exhaustion he probably wouldn't have thought about that on his own.

He grinned at her as she wrinkled her nose and he began unwrapping what he'd already started tying onto the end of the chair leg. "Yeah," he said, as he started to redo the job. "I can't really say I've ever tried that. Neat trick though."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-08 12:20 pm UTC (link)
Sam asked how long she'd been dancing and Shannon smiled weakly. The ballet had been her father's way of helping her get her mind off the loss of her mother. He'd been a busy man and as much time as he tried to spend with her, there had been a need for something else to fill the void of the time that she'd spent with her mother when he'd been working.

So, she'd tried horseback riding...until one of the horses spooked over a mouse and threw her. Shannon never got back in the saddle. Then, she'd tried tennis, but it hadn't really been her thing. Somehow, when ballet was the next step, Shannon had taken to it like a duck to water even in spite of the fact that she was more than ready to hate it before she'd even begun. She'd been good.

"Since I was little," she replied. "Something like...fourteen or fifteen years, wow...I hadn't really thought about it, but yeah. A long time," she added. Her eyes got a bit of a faraway look in them for a second before Sam spoke again and broke the reverie.

Laughing, Shannon nodded in her amusement. "Do you get many of those?" she teased. He said he was a student at Stanford - a law student - and Shannon perked up, nearly missing the bit about the road trip. Stanford Law was an expensive school. Maybe he wasn't 'no money,' after all. Maybe new money, which would explain him not being used to something like the Ritz. "Yeah? Cool. Are you guys really close, then?" she asked, making a conscious effort not to let the pang of jealousy she was feeling seep into her voice. Once upon a time, Shannon and Boone had been really close, but that was before her father died and the world as she knew it had crumbled down around her.

Blushing slightly, Shannon shrugged. "The simple things in life are a lot more enjoyable when you never have the chance to enjoy them," she replied. She hadn't had much of a chance to enjoy simple things. Kisses from her mother before bed, for example, were a thing so far in the past that Shannon couldn't remember them. ...she couldn't even remember her mother's face when she tried and Sabrina had long since trashed the family photo albums that had preceded herself as an addition to them. Shannon's mother was just a name and a void in her heart, but that was all.

In a life where she'd been raised by nanny after nanny and her step brother, simple things were hard to come by. When she was upset, Daddy bought new toys. When she graduated high school, Daddy bought her a Jag and left a card in the driver's seat saying congratulations and he was sorry he couldn't make it to the ceremony. Something as ridiculous and simple as the "lighting your leg on fire" trick was something that had made Shannon's eyes sparkle with childlike excitement, even at the age of sixteen.

"Once you've got that all tied, you just have to light it. You'll wanna strike a few matches at a time or you'll just burn the match down to your fingers; it won't take right away," she explained, changing the subject.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-10 12:23 am UTC (link)
"Definitely a long time," Sam said, glancing down at the work in his hands when he thought maybe he'd been staring at the thoughtful look on Shannon's face for a little too long.

He looked back up at her a moment later when she laughed and he let out a small one of his own. "Not lately," he admitted, his smile fading from genuine to something else as he thought about the last couple of days before he'd shown up wherever they were. "Yeah, we are," Sam said, his fingers pausing a moment as he wondered where Dean was and if he was okay. The lead he'd gotten from Shannon and the Doctor hadn't been much, but it'd been enough to get Sam to think maybe there was hope that his brother was here too.

Sam smiled when he saw her pale face gain some color and nodded his agreement. He understood completely. He'd had to fight for every bit of normalcy he'd gotten while growing up, often feeling as if he was disappointing his father by demanding it. Still, even the simple things like having a part in a school play, no matter how insignificant, or getting to play on a soccer team had been something that he hadn't taken for granted the way other kids his age had.

"Yeah," he said, turning his attention back to the torch as he retied the canvas around the leg with the oil side out. "I know what you mean."

He picked up the matches and pulled out two, not wanting to use anymore than necessary. As far as he knew everyone had gotten a book of matches, but they may need them later. He struck the matches against the table and held it up to the canvas, waiting for it to light. He held his breath for a moment as the matches got close to burning down and doing just what Shannon had warned, but then a small yellow flame licked it's way up the side of the canvas and then spread slowly.

He grinned at Shannon and held the torch out to inspect it. "Not bad."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-10 11:18 pm UTC (link)
Shannon's smile faded once again when Sam confirmed that he and his brother were close. She wanted to say, "must be nice," or "don't fuck it up," but she just nodded. "Cool," she said instead and felt admittedly guilty for the total lack of enthusiasm in her voice. She looked down again.

The selfish part of her made her wish that the Dean the Doctor had met wasn't his brother at all, but a complete stranger just like practically everyone else. It made her hope, deep down in a place where even she could deny that the fleeting thought had been there at all, that if it was his brother, that they wouldn't find one another. The hope was nasty and unnecessary, but if she was going to be spending time with Sam taking shifts sleeping, she didn't want to do it with some other strange guy hanging around third-wheeling her and making her miss Boone all that much more when she felt she had no right to after the way she'd treated him for the past two years.

When Sam spoke again, Shannon looked up again in time to see Sam focus his attention back on the torch. "Yeah?" she asked, arching a curious brow at him. "Fucked up childhood for you too, huh? My mom died when I was little and my dad never had time for me," she revealed although she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe just for conversation. So long as Sam was talking and distracted, she felt more comfortable. An awkward silence would surely send her back into tense and wary mode.

"C'est la vie, je suppose," she murmured more to herself that to Sam. "Qu'a fait est fait." Sometimes, Shannon would slip into French and not even realize she was doing it, just out of habit when saying something aloud that she probably should've been thinking. That's life, I suppose. What's done is done. A mantra Shannon should live by, but couldn't bring herself to truly accept it, because that would mean accepting the past for what it was and there were some things of which Shannon still couldn't quite let go.

With a soft sigh, Shannon shook her head. "Sorry, that was..." she waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing. Sometimes I do that...when I was an au pair, it was for a kid that only spoke French. It was in St. Tropez, actually, so..." She shrugged and gave Sam a sheepish look before watching him pull out two matches. He was going to light it, then? Shannon gave the torch a quick, silent overview and with nothing glaringly wrong, she felt no need to stop him. The matches nearly burned down to his fingers before the canvas finally took and then eventually...

"Voilà," she laughed as the whole thing went up in flames exactly the way hers had. "Magnifique. Not too shabby at all for your first torch," she teased playfully. "Now you just gotta find a place to stick it so it doesn't fall over and catch the whole place on fire," she pointed out with a smirk as she gestured lazily toward where her own torch was wedged into a hole in the floor.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-13 12:09 am UTC (link)
Sam let out a low breath and shook his head when she'd asked if he'd had a fucked up childhood. He tightened the canvas by pulling it tight. "I guess you could say that," Sam said, looking back up at her. "My mom died when I was a baby. I never really got to know her. And my dad, he was on the road a lot working different jobs. My brother practically raised me." He shrugged. "We weren't exactly the Brady bunch and we moved a lot, it made things harder."

He looked over at her as she murmured something that sounded like French to herself. He nodded as she explained about being a teacher. "St. Tropez," he repeated. "That's near the Rivera isn't it? I think I had some friends from college backpack through there. They sent me a postcard." They'd actually been Jess's friends, but he could see the postcard that had been stuck up on the refrigerator in his mind's eye. "That mus have been neat, living in a different country."

He smiled as she laughed, liking the sound of it in the gloomy room they were holed up in. She almost seemed relaxed for a second. "Right," he said, looking around for a similar crack in the ground with a sweep of his eyes and not finding any. "Do you usually sleep near this one?" Sam asked, nodding towards the original. "It'd probably be best to keep them close and make it easier for the air to warm up."

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-13 12:26 am UTC (link)
Shannon gave Sam a sad smile. "Me too," she said. "I don't remember my mother. My dad was always flying somewhere or another on business and Boone raised me, too. Well, Boone and a shitload of nannies...he was rotten to them," she said. Theresa came to mind, but she didn't elaborate about how he'd driven Theresa into such a tizzy one day that she'd fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. "Although, I guess you win with the moving around bit. I at least got to stay in one place," she added.

Looking down, Shannon shook her head and let out a humorless huff of laughter. "Jesus, what a shitty bunch of stuff to have in common, huh?" she asked, looking back up at him. Nodding, Shannon gave Sam a facial shrug in response. "I spent that year drinking, not studying, so..." she said with an airy, sheepish laugh. "Could be near the Rivera, but I wouldn't know. It was kinda cool though, just to be able to say I lived somewhere else. I wish, in retrospect, that I'd actually taken advantage and looked around. I've been a few other places, but I spent the longest in St. Tropez."

When Sam smiled, Shannon caught his eye and smiled back. She thought that just maybe those had been the first genuine smiles they'd given one another. She looked away again, then, as Sam started looking for a place to put his torch. "Yeah, as close as I can to it without being within a distance where I'd knock it over on myself if I roll over or something," Shannon replied. She looked back up at him and nodded her agreement. "I think you're probably right. I wish we could build a real fire, but we'd have to, like, make a pit or we'd burn this whole place down..." she muttered, frowning slightly to herself.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-14 12:21 am UTC (link)
Sam looked down when she mentioned her brother. He wondered how long ago she'd lost her sibling, something about the way she quickly moved on made him think that she wasn't exactly over it. Not that you'd ever really get over losing your brother. He could remember only too well the last two times Dean had ended up in the hospital and he'd been told he probably wouldn't live long and even though he'd given Dean a hard time about making the deal for him, he couldn't blame him. Not really. If their roles had been reversed, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't have done the same thing. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to push his worries bout Dean's current whereabouts far enough away that he could carry on a simple conversation. He returned her humorless laugh with a forced smile of his own. "Yeah, I guess it's not exactly the stuff most people brag about."

He was just as eager to move on in conversation topics and clutched onto the idea of living in a foreign country easily. "I've never left the forty-eight," he admitted sounding a little regretful. "I always thought it would be kind of cool to go traveling, but I just never really had the opportunity. Hit almost every state on the mainland though," he said with a shrug. He paused, wondering if that sounded weird. "Uh, our family really likes roadtrips."

The truth was he was glad for an excuse to duck his head when Shannon had made direct eye contact and given him a bright smile. It had made him feel slightly uncomfortable, though it wasn't a feeling that was entirely unpleasant. He only hoped that if he kept himself focused on the problem at hand, mainly finding a way to keep the second torch upright, that he wouldn't have time to think about other things, like the fact that his new roommate was attractive, especially when she smiled like that. He cleared his throat and squinted into the darkness, until he thought he saw something a few feet away. He moved towards it, holding the torch over it until he was sure it was an actual crack in the wooden floor and not a trick of the firelight.

"A pit would be nice," Sam agreed as he knelled and forced the leg down into the crack that was slightly too small with both hands. It took a minute of twisting, but he managed to get it down fair enough that it was standing on it's own. "There," he said, straightening up. He moved back over to the desk and picked up the half empty can of red bull and drained it. His eyes felt heavy now that he suddenly found himself without a job to focus on. He looked at Shannon, remembering how she'd managed to keep herself up for this long. "Still cold?"

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-14 03:04 am UTC (link)
"To say the least," Shannon agreed grimly, returning the forced smile that Sam had given her. Even if she'd been able to pull it off, its absense in her eyes would've severely betrayed her. She wondered if it would ever get easier having Boone gone from her life. She'd taken so much of his presence for granted when he'd been around and she was regretting it, now. Not that she should be surprised in the least considering the annoying saying that 'you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.'

The regret in Sam's voice made her smile wanly back at him. "If it makes you feel better, I've been in more foreign countries than states in our country...even though I've kind of always wanted to," she replied. "The grass is always greener, I guess."

When Shannon looked up again, at the sound of Sam's voice agreeing that a pit would be nice, she saw that he had knelt to force his torch into a crack in the floor. She gave him another genuine, if soft and tired, smile when he stood again and the torch was still upright, stuck in the floor. "Success," she agreed.

Her eyes followed him back to the desk and she tensed, relaxing only when she saw that he had only gone back for the rest of the Red Bull. His next question almost worked as a conductor. She'd nearly forgotten how cold she was until he'd asked and she hugged herself again, giving him a weak smile. "Yeah," she admitted. "I'm freezing my ass off, but I haven't had a chance to hit up the thrift shop I've been reading about, so it's not like I have dry clothes to change into." She shrugged. "I'll live."

And then she realized just how tired she was and felt awkward as she looked back at him. Was she supposed to just lie down and have at it? Ask him one more time if he was sure she was going to sleep first shift? Wait until he told her to go to sleep? Shannon shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Um, well, if you're sure you want to take first shift, I'm gonna try to sleep," she finally said.

There was a short pause and then:

"Uh, I know this is going to sound, like, super awkward and weird, but can you, like, sit really close? To me, I mean?" she asked. "I'm kind of hoping to soak up some body heat in the meantime," she explained, gesturing toward their torches with one hand before returning it to her arm and rubbing her hands up and down the goosepimpled skin on her arms.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-14 11:54 pm UTC (link)
He gave her a small smile when she said she'd done most of her traveling overseas. "I guess so," he said, not able to help but think that he would've traded his hours of time on the road for frequent flier miles any day. Then again he would've had to have gone alone, since he was pretty sure Dean was never setting foot on a plane again.

He stepped back and looked at the torch, wondering how long it would burn for. Shannon's looked much more used than his, but it was still burning fairly brightly. Eventually they were going to run out of paintings. Depending on how long they were there for and at this point he had no idea how long that might be. Still, he found it all too easy to return her smile before he moved back over to the desk.

Sam shot her a sympathetic look when she said she was still cold, wishing he had held onto his jacket. "It's weird that there's a thrift shop here," he said, looking at his feet while he stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the desk. "The whole layout of the town is weird. A museum, a thrift shop, a carnival..." He glanced up at her. "But no houses? It seems really random."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, giving her a small smile when she said she was going to try to sleep. She seemed to hesitate and then made her case about sharing body heat. Sam's tired face slackened a little in surprise before he had a chance to recover. He swallowed, his brows knitting slightly as he nodded. "Uh, yeah, no problem," he said, giving her a small, nervous grin as reached up and rubbed his neck. "I can do that." Though he sounded a little unsure.

Suddenly the whole situation was a little awkward. He wondered if he should try to rub her shoulders for her, or offer to. Though he was afraid that would come off as a little creepy. He could practically hear Dean's voice inside his head urging him to offer anyway. C'mon, Sammy.

He let out a slow breath and waited for her to move, trying not to make the situation any stranger than it already was. They were in some deserted town forced to make torches out of oil paintings and chair legs, sharing body heat wasn't really that much stranger. It made sense. More than that, it was smart. Wherever Shannon came from, she obviously knew a thing or two about roughing it.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-15 12:47 am UTC (link)
Shannon was careful to keep her skirt smoothed down around her legs as she lowered herself to sit on the floor, keeping her eyes on Sam as he spoke. "You know, yeah, I was thinking that myself, but then I haven't really explored that much. Maybe there's a housing complex somewhere? We're probably not that lucky," she sighed.

Sam's awkward and nervous, uncertain sounding response to Shannon's request that he sit close made Shannon blush as she shook her head and held up one hand in apology. "No, you know what? It's okay; never mind. Totally weird, I shouldn't have asked. We, like, just met. It's just I'm used to..." her voice trailed off and she looked down. "Boone," she admitted quietly. And Sayid, actually, which made her feel even more awkward and guilty for having asked Sam in the first place. "You don't have to, no hard feelings," she added weakly.

The worst part about sleeping in this place, she'd decided the previous night, was that she had to curl herself into the fetal position to keep warm which not only made her skirt hike itself up uncomfortably, but also hurt her hip like a bitch. Still, she did it and used one arm curled up under her head as a pillow. Closing her eyes, Shannon took a deep breath and rolled over with her back to Sam because she could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes and the telltale lump in her throat of a sob she wasn't going to give the dignity of being heard.

Sand had been gritty and uncomfortable, but it at least had a little give that she'd gotten used to. It certainly beat the hell out of a dirty floor, stiff and unforgiving. As she had the night before, she willed herself to remember the feel of Sayid's body up against her back, his arms around her, enveloping her in the kind of warmth that no amount of excess layers of clothing could provide. She didn't have the guts or the heart to ask Sam to take Sayid's place although it would've been more than welcome if he'd just taken it upon himself. Didn't matter who he was or that ten minutes ago she was pretty sure he meant her harm. It didn't matter that he was a complete stranger and that, in the real world, she probably wouldn't have given the poor bastard the time of day.

A tear slipped down her cheek and Shannon was quick to shift her face against her arm to wipe it away. Showing weakness now was not an option, as far as she was concerned. "Just give me a couple of hours and then you can have a turn," she choked out with effort as she smoothed her skirt down around her legs again with her free hand and then wrapped that arm around her thighs and calves as best she could.

Last night, she hadn't had to worry about unintentionally showing off her stolen skivvies - none of the panties in her luggage would've been comfortable or useful on the Island; she'd been in Sydney to pull off a scam that had needed a male's assistance. All she'd brought had been thongs - so it was frustrating to have to worry about that alongside the fact that she was still cold and her wet hair wasn't helping. But, Shannon set her jaw and told herself that it was nothing; she could do it. The caves had been worse, right? Well...except that the caves had the airline blankets... God, I hate this fucking place... she thought miserably. "Night, Sam," she all but whispered, willing herself to try to sleep.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-18 04:59 pm UTC (link)
"I haven't been able to explore that much either," Sam admitted as he rubbed tiredly at a spot above his right eye. "Though I'm not sure what kind of people would live here by choice, though maybe they don’t really have one." This thought made him frown and he gave a little sigh. Though he had to admit that the thought of a mattress, even a lumpy motel one, was much more appealing than the wooden floor beneath his feet.

Sam immediately felt like an ass when Shannon blushed and retracted her offer to share body heat. His guilt only doubled when she broke eye contact to look away from him and said her brother's name in a voice that was small and sad. "No, it's fine," he said quickly, though even he thought the earnestness behind it seemed a little forced. Here she was cold and alone and he had to be awkward enough so that he couldn't even offer her the slightest consideration. It wasn't like touching her was going to kill him. Or that it even had to be awkward, except that he'd made it so somehow.

God, what's wrong with me? Sam thought to himself as Shannon turned her back on him to curl up into a fetal position that couldn't be comfortable. He lowered himself to the floor beside her, watching as her head shifted in an attempt to get comfortable. She spoke again, her voice sounding slightly thick and muffled and Sam realized that she might be close to tears.

"Hey," he said, swallowing before moving closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay." He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't out of line, but feeling like he'd be more of a jerk if he didn't at least try to fill her request and stretched out behind her, mirroring her position and tucking his knees under her knees so that the length of his body was touching hers lightly, but there was still room for her to relax back into him if she chose. He kept his hand on her shoulder, thinking it might be assuming to wrap it around her waist. "How's that?" he asked, his nose a few inches from her hair.

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[info]ballerinadreams
2009-04-18 05:56 pm UTC (link)
Shannon stiffened just slightly and only for a split second as she felt Sam's hand come down on her shoulder. It wasn't okay, because she couldn't help thinking, don't do me any favors... as she felt and heard him sit down behind her. She wanted to tell him to never mind, but it was reflexive for her to use her own emotions to manipulate men into giving her what she wanted. She hadn't even realized she'd been doing it to Sam until just then when she felt him lay down behind her. Jeez, even when she wasn't trying, she was a pro...

There was still space between them, but Shannon could already feel the heat radiating off him. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck when Sam asked how that was and it wasn't good enough. Backing herself up against him, she moved her hand off her legs and took his wrist, pulling his arm down around her middle. She moved her head to rest on his arm and used her now free one to wrap around her middle in the direction opposite where she'd moved his arm. For a second, she had to wiggle herself into a less painful position, because a crack in the floor pinched against her side from her ankle all the way up to her shoulder, but pushing against Sam moved her just enough so that the pain went away.

"Better," she said softly, her voice still a little watery as she settled. Her eyes fluttered shut and still she felt broken. Sam wasn't Sayid and he never would be. And he wasn't Boone. He was just Sam; some stranger she'd met less than an hour ago and was nice enough to bend to her whims from the moment she started talking to him on the journals.

...he was Charlie. It was only a matter of time before he found his Claire and she'd be on her own again.

"Night," she said quietly, again, feeling like a bit of an asshole for the whole thing, but unwilling to apologize, because that would mean admitting she was wrong. "Thank you..." she added softly, if only because it made her feel marginally less like a bitch for not actually feeling badly when she thought she should.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-04-22 01:00 am UTC (link)
It was probably a good thing that Shannon didn't turn towards him when she reached back and took his wrist, wrapping his arm around her waist. Mostly because the expression on Sam's face wouldn't have been easily read, even by those who knew him best and probably would've been misinterpreted by the wary blonde he was now effectively spooning. Consternation might have been the closest word for it, though Sam wasn't really bothered by the sudden closeness of Shannon's body up against his as he was by the possibility of the situation he currently found himself being misunderstood. Still, Shannon had been clear about it only being for body heat. To think she thought otherwise was a little big headed on his part. As well as a little...

Shannon moved against him, trying to get comfortable and he held his breath until she stilled before letting it out slowly. Suddenly the possibility of falling asleep on his watch became much less likely. Shannon's bare arm was cold under his and he wondered how long she'd been waiting for him to show up.

Her voice sounded a little unsteady when she spoke again, but the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to it. He found himself listening carefully in the dark. He could vaguely hear the sound of falling rain just beyond the front door.

"Goodnight," he said, matching her quiet tone. With one arm acting as a pillow for Shannon and his other held around her waist with her hand he had to fight the sudden urge to scratch his nose. He wrinkled his nose and sighed softly. "You're welcome."

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