Title: A Walk on the Slippery Rocks (Lost)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Vignette, sometime after episode 4
Spoilers: Nothing in particular.
Rating: NC-17 for sexual activity
Pairing: none in particular
Summary: Boone philosophizes

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Lost, the ABC television series, was created by Jeffrey Lieber, J.J. Abrams, and Damon Lindelof, and belongs to ABC Television and Bad Robot Productions, J.J. Abrams, Bryan Burk, and Damon Lindelof, executive producers. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Song reference: "What I Am" by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians

DEDICATION: For Tiff, while she waits for other things.

COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, October 19, 2004, jfc@freeshell.org

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.

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"I'm not aware of too many things,
I know what I know, if you know what I mean..."

Shit. Helluva place to get a song stuck in your head. No radios playing out here, and we're saving the batteries, so all of the personal music boxes are silent for the time being, or that's what I'm telling myself. Some folks aren't as conscientious as others--I've seen the headphones. Fuck.

A guy gets a lot of thinking time in a place like this. Sometimes there's work to do, gathering stuff and exploring, but there's just these long stretches of time when there's nothing at all. That's when I walk along the edge of the beach, trying not to slip and fall into the ocean, not catching anyone's eye if I meet them along the way. Everybody's kind of still in their own headspace a lot of the day, wondering about our old lives and kind of sending out little psychic S.O.S.'s, as if anybody's gonna hear them. In other words, there's not a lot of talking, either.

So it's just Edie and me this afternoon.

"Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box..."

Cocoa Puffs. Already I'm missing Cocoa Puffs. I've been thinking about supplies, the stupid stuff we're going to run out of if we have to stay here very long. We're starting to figure out which plants are useful, like what we can eat. Maybe we'll catch some more fish, now that my sister has blackmailed poor, innocent, unsuspecting Charlie to bring her one. Luckily, it rains often enough to catch fresh water for drinking in Jack's tarp.

Then there's the personal stuff. I know it's gonna drive me nuts when the travel-sized bottle of my favorite shampoo is used up, so I'm portioning it out really slowly. The toothpaste will probably last a little longer. The toilet paper from the plane was distributed among everybody, and when that's gone, there's leaves that don't scratch. I wonder if that's good enough for the women. Maybe I should ask Shannon.

Oh, yeah: they handed out the tampons from the plane, too, which made me start wondering when her period is due again. Can I just head for high ground now? She grates on people enough the other three weeks of the month--trust me: she's insufferable when she's on the rag.

What are they gonna use when there aren't any more tampons? Never mind that--will the smell of blood attract hungry animals from the jungle? Stop it, Boone. Don't even think about that.

Shannon's main problem is cramps, or so she's said. She's fine if she's got enough Midol. I kinda doubt we've got enough of those for very long. All of the serious painkillers and stuff are going to people who are really injured. It's one thing to muddle through an ordinary headache, but I'm glad I'm not a girl. Shit. Everybody can tell that my sister gets on my nerves a lot. It still hurts me to see her in pain--just makes me want to hold her until it stops. Unfortunately, she'd probably kick me in the balls until I died were I even to try it.

It feels like I've had women, or vaginas at least, on my mind constantly since yesterday--I mean more than usual, and for good reason. Sometime in the afternoon, I'd gone to take a crap in the weeds. When I was coming back, I thought I heard somebody moaning kinda loud, so went to see if I could help.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered a man and a woman fucking urgently in a little grassy spot with half of their clothes still on. They didn't look familiar, and didn't notice me, so I didn't feel too guilty for having seen them. I realized that I'd heard her come, which made me suddenly horny and hard for the first time since we got here. Hiding behind a tree, I watched them finish, then jerked off while they couldn't see me. They were speaking English, but they didn't say much. I couldn't tell if they'd known each other before, or had just gotten acquainted and needed to pass the time or something.

It made me want to get laid, though I don't know that I'd connect with anybody here. Kate's pretty, but I think Jack's got his eye on her. Claire is really cute, but the pregnant thing--um, no. The girl and I would have to be careful, too--there probably aren't very many condoms, either, and we don't want any more babies around here. We can barely feed ourselves...

But what if we're stuck here for years, like Sayid suggested? What if we formed our own little society and lived here for the rest of our lives? Maybe we'd want to propagate the species, if only to have younger people to help us when we got old and couldn't survive alone.

Whoa--"Chuck me in the shallow water before I get too deep," indeed. Here I was thinking about somebody soft to touch, and suddenly I'm fifty years in the future and dying a withered codger on a desert island. Maybe my and Shannon's children will be here to hold my hand... Wait a minute. I didn't say that right. Ewww. I did NOT just think that. One of these other girls will want to spend some quality time with me one of these days, I hope. Besides, I bet Shannon will hook up with Charlie anyway, if he can stand the way she acts. Maybe I'll fix them up. "Here, Charlie--wanna knock up my sister?" Hahaha. I crack myself up sometimes.

Maybe Shannon's right. Somebody will find us soon. Here's hoping it's something a little more humane than whatever critter is stalking around the jungle. Then again, anything would be preferable to fucking my sister. I think...

THE END