hackthis_archive | Lost - A Matter of Life and Death. Kinda.

There is nothing quite like coming home to presents. ::pets Verve Singles and Robert Downey Jr. album:: Also, in case I don’t get a chance I want to wish everyone a very happy (belated) Hanukkah, Ramadan, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, Boxing Day and whatever other holiday I’ve forgotten.

You know what I rilly hate? When somebody asks you a question that you both already have the answer to, and you know and they know that if the situation changes you’ll tell them, but they still feel compelled to ask like a dumbfuck.

Showtime killed Dead Like Me and they’re keeping Huff? WTF is that!

Lost
Hurley fic! w/ Var. pairings
A Matter of Life and Death. Kinda.

Hurley’s having withdrawal issues.

The serious kind of withdrawal issues that make people hallucinate. A lot. This is why, on his way to the beach, he just saw Sayid and Sawyer doing something in the brush that was so not fighting.

The rolling around in the sand had him fooled for a minute, and he was really kind of interested for a second because Sayid could so kick Sawyer’s ass. Hurley’s inner third-grader screamed ‘FIGHT!’ which was just funny.

But yeah, no, he was wrong.

Not that Sayid couldn’t totally kick Sawyer’s ass, but Hurley doesn’t think that people who are getting the snot beat out of them say things like ‘harder’ and ‘come the fuck on.’

They certainly don’t moan like that.

They shout and scream and tussle and stuff, Sawyer and Sayid have that down, no doubt -- but the panting? Yeah, that's not quite how things go. Hurley's been in enough fights to know that for sure. Not that he's a fighter or anything, but he's been picked on, and he's been kicked around and it was never like that.

No, it was definitely never like that.

In his haste to get away, he completely forgets about his cravings.

For, like, two minutes.

*

Hurley's got the itching and the scratching and the twitching; he's totally got the craving bad. He keeps getting up and going to the beach and rummaging through the luggage like his name was Sawyer or Barney the Crackhead. He makes a wide berth around that spot where he found Sawyer and Sayid, but for the most part he's pretty predictable in his patterns. He keeps hoping that he'll find something new in his search. He's not trying to steal anything; he’s not into the hoarding or whatever. He can’t fit most of what’s left over to wear, and besides, pink silk isn’t really his thing, but Shannon might like it. Not that he really cares since she’s such a snob, but it’s not like Kate would get a lot of mileage out of it.

Jack might wish she’d get some mileage out of it, but Hurley thinks Jack might be having some delusions of his own.

Maybe he's having withdrawal pains too.

Maybe if Jack stops being all Data and Dr Troy about everything, he'll help Hurley out in his search. Or maybe Hurley should just tell Jack to go roll around in the jungle with Boone. Not that Hurley really wants to think about that, because Jack is just hairy, and Hurley doesn’t need anything else to weigh upon his already troubled mind.

It’s been three weeks, five days and eight hours since he had anything that could be called sweet, and Hurley’s jonesing.

He's jonesing so badly.

*

Skittles, Snickers, Sugar Daddys, Twix, Twizzlers, Junior Mints. Babe Ruths and melted Kit Kats. Hershey bars, Cadbury eggs, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups all soft and gooey. It's the kind of thing that could drive any man to make a golf course. Except that Hurley doesn't name the holes after numbers he names them after candy bars, and when he tells Charlie that, Charlie just laughs himself into a fit.

"I'm glad to see you find this so funny," Hurley says. “I guess that means you don’t have any English candy stored somewhere, right? Maybe some Smarties or a chocolate orange or something?”

Charlie can barely speak he's so busy gasping for air. "You made a golf course because you need chocolate, mate?"

"Not just chocolate. Sweets. We're talking about Pixie Stixs and Watchamacallits."

"Whatchamawho?"

"Dude, don't tell me you don't know what a Whatchamacallit is?"

There are tears streaming down Charlie's face, he's laughing so hard. "You've got a chocolate problem? Most people would say you need to get laid, my friend."

Hurley wrinkles his nose. "No way man -- you're not my type."

*

Hurley had chocolate when he got on the plane, an entire box of Mallomars, but he ate most of them on the flight, and then there was that whole thing with The Crash, and he lost the box. When he was running around the beach trying to save Claire and stuff, he could totally smell burning marshmallows, and he’s driving himself crazy just thinking about sugary goodness. He's totally going to die from candy withdrawal pains; he can feel it.

He’s not going to be kidnapped by the crazy French chick -- like she could drag him five feet without getting a hernia -- and he’s totally not going to be a victim of Where the Wild Things Are, but he’s going to die anyway.

He survived elementary school and high school and a friggin plane crash, and now, he’s going to die from this. Which just sucks. What kind of freaks is he trapped with on this island?

Who comes to paradise and doesn’t bring chocolate?

*

Hurley would fucking kill for a chocolate candy bar. Actually, he's a pacifist, so maybe not kill -- well, maybe if he was killing Sawyer. Actually, no, he would just sit on Sawyer until he screamed or something, but Sawyer would probably poke him or start talking about his mom and then Hurley would have to shift his weight and then maybe crush Sawyer to death. This is not an unappealing idea, but right now he's kind of focused on the chocolate thing.

Boone doesn't get it. "Chocolate is full of preservatives and bad stuff, you don't need it."

"Of course it's full of preservatives!" Hurley huffs. "That's what makes it taste so good, what planet are you from, man?"

"Actually, I wasn't born on a planet. I was assimilated by the Borg."

Hurley snorts. "That explains a lot."

"You should have a coconut or something."

"Only if it's smothered in chocolate." Hurley's stomach rumbles and he licks his lips. The idea of an Almond Joy is making his mouth water.

"Seriously, chocolate isn't good for you."

Hurley gets to his feet. "Dude, do you think I care?"

Boone sighs. "Probably not."

"You are so probably right. What about your sister, do you think she would have some?"

Boone looks at Hurley as though he's talking in Klingon.

"Yeah, you're right," Hurley says. "Girls like your sister don't eat chocolate."

"That's an understatement. Shannon's afraid to even be the same room as chocolate," Boone says. "It's like she thinks exposure to sugar will make her fat."

Hurley rolls his eyes and brushes the sand off his shirt. His clothing has been hanging really loose recently. He's taken to using a piece of rope as a belt. "Dude, that's the last thing I'm worried about."

*

Hurley is a desperate man, and desperate men do desperate things, like brave the wilds of the beach to talk to the man who has everything. Okay, the man who stole everything, but it’s not really a good time for semantics when Hurley’s trying not to laugh his ass off at the girlie sunglasses.

Sawyer frowns as Hurley steps into his tent. “You’re blocking my sun, Orca. As a matter of fact, I think you might’ve just wiped out the sun altogether.”

Hurley’s spent most of his life being called names by other people, Sawyer doesn’t phase him. Much. “This from the guy wearing Marilyn Monroe’s sunglasses?”

Sawyer’s mouth twitches. It’s almost like he’s smiling, which is just weird. Hurley knows a good opening when he sees it though, and he drops down on a stack of luggage without waiting for an invitation.

“Sure, sit down, have a seat, let’s talk about old times.” Sawyer pushes his sunglasses upwards, until they’re resting on his head like a headband, and Hurley never realized how girlie Sawyer could be sometimes. It has to be the shades. “Oh, wait, we don’t have any old times, Porky. Why’re you in my tent? Did Doc send you up here to spy on me again?”

Sawyer seems really preoccupied with Jack –- almost as much as Boone. Which is just wrong. “Look, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here,” Hurley begins.

“And yet, here you are.”

Hurley rolls his eyes. “I just want to know if you have any candy.”

Sawyer blinks. “Fat man, don’t you think candy is the last thing you need?”

Hurley makes a dismissive motion. “Thanks mom, I didn’t realize that on my own or anything.“

Sawyer’s mouth does that twitching thing again. “Just sayin’.”

Hurley tugs on the rope holding up his shorts. “I’m not worried about my girlish figure like some people, Marilyn, I just want a candy bar, which I’m pretty sure you’ve got, seeing as you’ve got everything else.”

“The manifest was a one-time thing,” Sawyer says leaning over and rummaging in his bag for something. It’s too much to hope that it’s candy –- it’s not. It’s that green stuff that the Korean lady keeps trying to make Hurley eat. “I don’t need anymore brownie points.”

Hurley snorts. “There aren’t enough brownie points in all the world for you.”

“Exactly –- so how would givin’ you candy benefit me?” Sawyer asks.

Hurley scratches his neck; the heat is killer today and his hair is dry and itchy. “Well, at the very least a candy bar would keep me from telling Kate about you and Sayid wrestling in the bushes the other day.”

Sawyer smiles this time; it’s the real thing, and Hurley blinks and his stomach gurgles.

“I never took you for the blackmailing kind,” Sawyer says before turning and rustling in his bag again.

There’s a moment when Hurley thinks that Sawyer might be going for a knife or a something to kill him, and how would that look when he got to heaven: Killed for a Candy Bar?

He’d never hear the end of it, and he fumbles when Sawyer tosses a few wrapped items his way.

Hurley’s never been so happy to see two Snickers in his life. “Dude!”

Sawyer holds up a hand before Hurley can hug him. “I don’t know you like that, just back off and pretend like this never happened.”

Hurley nods. “Thanks man, seriously.”

Sawyer pulls his sunglasses back down and leans back. “Happy now?”

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah, well, I expect that to last you, so don’t go crammin’ the whole thing in your mouth like Godzilla or something.”

Hurley’s too busy unwrapping the bar of chocolate to listen. Sweet, sweet caramel and chocolate.

“So you think that might erase whatever you thought you saw the other day?” Sawyer asks.

Hurley chews very slowly. “Depends, how many more of these do you have?”

-end-

Current Mood: giddy
Current Music: The Verve ‘Monte Carlo’