Sawyer's Log

Six Word Story #1

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 01:02:49 GMT

Funny Business - scifi_muses

Mon, 23 Mar 2009 03:26:46 GMT

Character: James "Sawyer" Ford
Fandom: LOST
Rating: PG
Word Count: 444
Prompt: Elvis Pony picture for scifi_muses
Notes: Long before the Island of Lost Luggage

Funny Business

Vegas is a funny place. Never know who you might run into. Course being a city full of sinners, most of the people you meet were running more of a con than I was. Not that I was running a con now. Hadn’t found a mark yet. That was going to take time. I had to take my time perusing the minnows and deciding which one of the plastic princesses was wearing real Tiffany’s and which were as phony as the Elvis clone working the Blue Lagoon Lounge down the Strip.

I was dressed in a good Brook’s Brother’s suit. The real deal. You can’t catch a sweet fish without using the proper bait, and a rich woman will know a fake when she sees it. Especially since that suit wasn’t likely to be on for long once I pasted on my charms, and I didn’t want her finding a fake label. The watch on my wrist was a fake though. I didn’t have enough money left over to buy a real Rolex, but it was a good imitation.

There she was, checking out every man who walked past her table. She should have been paying more attention to her cards. The stack of chips in front of her was sinking fast. I sauntered on over, giving her and the dealer a slow lazy smile. Sliding the last of my seed money towards the dealer to get my own rack of chips. I’m a good poker player, but I wasn’t in this game to win.

The lady was wearing the real deal, dripping in gold and diamond tips on her fingernails. Her dress cost more than I’d made in the last six months, and I couldn’t wait to try to get her out of it. She smiled back, twining a long lock of her graying blonde hair around her finger. “Have you come to take my money too?”

“Could be,” I said with a wicked grin. I know it’s wicked, had plenty of the ladies tell me it was. “But I’d rather take the house’s cash.”

She didn’t have much of a poker face. There was a tiny crease near one of her Botox resistant wrinkles that told me the cougar had a bad hand. I didn’t. It was probably the best hand I’d ever had, but I folded, letting her have the pot. By the time I was nearly out of money, I had her in the palm of my hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she laughed, draping her fingers over my arm. “Let me at least buy you dinner.”

“Darlin’,” I drawled. “I’d like nothing better than to share a meal with you.”

44.1.A."And that is precisely why I don't do long term relationships."

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 01:55:09 GMT

"And that is precisely why I don't do long term relationships," the tall blond man in the pale gray suit told the waiter who had seated him. “Don’t ever let a woman think she owns you.”

“I don’t like women, sir,” the waiter said as he filled the water goblet. “I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Sitting down at the table, the man who called himself Sawyer took a sip from his water glass. It was cool and soothed the rawness in his throat from the shouting match he’d had that morning with Gloria. She’d gotten it in her head that he was at her beck and call. Silly woman didn’t realize she was just a port of call on the conman’s trail through New Mexico.

He ran his fingertip carefully over the cut along his chiseled jaw from the ashtray she’d thrown at him. He just hoped his marks didn’t notice, but he was sure they were dazzled by enough riches to ignore his ‘shaving accident.’

“Mr. Sawyer,” he looked up just in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Whatever. Sawyer didn’t care what their names were; they were just the latest to fall for his standard con. All he cared about was the silver attaché case Mr. Loser was carrying that would be filled with $125,000. “Sorry we’re late. Had a little trouble at the bank.”

“Don’t pay it no never mind,” he drawled, holding out Mrs. Loser’s chair. Sawyer remembered her name. He’d had to learn it while he slept with her. He’d repeated it over and over again, so that Melissa thought she was all that and more. Women were so easy. All he had to do was dazzle them and sooner or later they’d be conning their hubbies into buying into his scam. “I got here a little late myself.”

“Sawyer!” Gloria’s shriek shattered the polite conversation of the restaurant. Every head turned towards the red head as she stomped through the dining room. “Is this your whore! The one you’ve been cheating on me with?”

James "Sawyer" Ford
LOST
344 Words for writers_muses
Before the crash....
Comments Here Please

Set #42 Prompt: J. "I just want to go home." for writers_muses

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 17:59:10 GMT

James "Sawyer" Ford
LOST
485 Words
Before the crash....

Going down the jet way was like takin’ the walk of shame. At least the Australian cops didn’t feel the need to parade me past the other passengers in leg irons, although deep down inside I sort of felt like they should have. I’d killed an innocent man. Ok, probably not an innocent man, but a man that I didn’t have no business killin’. He wasn’t Frank Sawyer. I’d been conned, and nothin’ pisses off a conman more than gettin’ conned by someone else. He’d played me like a fine violin. Makin’ me fly down to Australia to kill the man responsible for the deaths of my folks, and the ruin of my life. I’d been a fuckin’ patsy.

I got crammed into the middle of the row on the 777, Oceanic Flight 815, from Sydney to LA. I thought I’d be restin’ the tray table on the top of my knees. Planes are made for midgets and amputees. Ain’t made for regular people with legs and such at all. I just hoped I didn’t have to pee too often on the flight, and was crossin’ my fingers not to get stuck next to some smelly foreigner or religious fanatic. Nothin’ worse than listenin’ to some preacher prayin’ through the flight, askin’ if you believed in the Lord, ‘cept sittin’ next to some person with a lack of personal hygiene.

When I got sandwiched between a honeymoon couple and some punk kid, I just closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep. Didn’t really fall asleep, but I looked convincin’ enough for the honeymooners to talk dirty to each other in ear shot. Sure as hell was better’n the movie they were playin’ on the flight.

Guess I really did fall asleep at one point. Next thing I knew the plane got shook like god had decided to smack it down. Yes, I believe in God. I just don’t need to hear about him. Everything bounced, and the yellow oxygen masks popped down from the ceilin’. I grabbed at mine, nearly yankin’ it our of the roof, and started gaspin’ for air as the plane shook again. Behind me the tail just fuckin’ fell off. I gripped the seat, so hard I could hear my knuckles poppin’. Holy fuckin’ shit. I’m goin’ to die….

The screams from the engines drowned out the screams of the other passengers. I watched as my life flashed before my eyes. Saw my momma as she came to tell me to hide under the bed of our apartment because my daddy was there and pissed. Heard the sound of the shots as he blew a hole in my momma’s face and then blew his own head off. I saw “Frank Sawyer” crumple to the ground besides his roach coach and die tryin’ to figure out why the hell I shot him. I saw it all. Then it all went black.

X Marks the Spot - Chapter 5

Sat, 05 Aug 2006 18:05:27 GMT

X Marks the Spot – chapter 5
Lost - Sawyer and Kate
Word Count: 924 - my Sawyer brain is a little rusty - so short chapter
Rating: R - for violence and language
Author: sanguinepen
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Prompts: 50_darkfics 11 Weapon 8/50, fic_variations Work 1/5, deviant_muses picture #2
Posted to _we_are_lost, lost_fanfic, lost_roundrobin, and jenns_fiction

Chapters - 1, 2, 3 4

Chapter Five

“What the fuck is that thing?” he panted as they clutched each other in the canopy. He could feel her heart beating in sync with his while they fought to catch their breath and stay quiet all at the same time. The tree shook, nearly knocking them from their perch. The twining roots snapping where they were too thin to withstand the force of the thing’s blows. Sawyer pulled out his 9mm although he knew damned well that it would never stop the thing. He aimed at where he thought he saw something move, and the tree was rocked again. He and Kate watched helplessly as the gun bounced down the tree’s trunk into the underbrush where they’d have to work damned hard to find it again if they ever did. “Shit!”

Kate grabbed Sawyer around the waist before he could do something stupid like trying to dive after the gun just as the tree was rocked one more time, and then everything went quiet. All they could hear was their own ragged breathing and the sounds of the jungle slowly returning. “I think it’s gone,” she said still holding him. His heart was beating so hard that she thought she could see it thumping through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“You sure?” Sawyer swallowed a mouthful of fear, and reached inside to find the surly, cocky, son of a bitch who wouldn’t be shaking like a little kid in front of a woman. “Should have let me get the gun. Or should have let me use yours. Why didn’t you shoot it?”

“I don’t think it’d do any good, that’s why.” She let him go, narrowing her green eyes at him. “And I was trying to keep you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

“Like what? Did you think I was goin’ to try to slug it or something?”

“I never know with you Sawyer. You’re like a loose cannon. I think you’ve got a death wish, but that lizard brain of yours won’t let you die so you keep on fighting.” He wanted to tell her to shut up. He hated that she could read him like graffiti in a bathroom stall. Instead he just started climbing down, searching the ground for the precious gun. “I’ll go back, get our packs. Don’t do anything,” she paused leaving out – stupid. “While I’m gone.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout me none,” he hissed as he scraped his shin on a sharp lava rock embedded between the twisted banyan’s root stalks. “I’ll just stay here plannin’ on my next death defyin’ entertainment for your pleasure. ‘Cause you know, Freckles, it’s all about me makin’ your day.”

Kate could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface as she retraced their hurried path through the jungle back to where they’d dropped their packs while running for their lives. The man made her want to kill him. He made her want to do a whole lot more than that too, and that just made her want to kill him more. “If he makes you so mad,” she asked herself as she picked up a discarded plastic water bottle with the Oceanic Airlines label nearly worn off from constant refilling.

“Why do you take his shit? You’d be doing the entire camp a favor if you left him out here.” She knew she couldn’t do it. He was like a stray dog, who’d been beaten one to many times. He’d approach slowly, wag his tail a few times for a scrap of moldy bread, and then bite your hand if you tried to pet him. She knew what that felt like. Sawyer had said they were two of a kind, and she knew it was true. No matter how hard she tried to pretend that she was getting a new chance to start her life over here on the island, a life that included a place of respect in their tiny community, it didn’t change that she’d killed her own father. She felt a kindred spirit with Sawyer that she just didn’t feel with Jack no matter how hard she wished she did.

When she got back, a pack over each of her arms, she found Sawyer resting back against the banyan picking dirt and gravel out of the gun’s innards. “I found it all.” She tossed him the bottle of water, so he could have a drink. He was dirty from climbing under the tree, and there were some deep bleeding scratches running up his left arm. “You’re hurt.”

“Ain’t nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve had lot worse. It just fell where I had to fight to get to it. But it ain’t all I found in there.” He smiled up at her with a sly smile.

“What else did you find?” she felt a grin mirroring his spread across her face.

“Just this,” he tossed her something small and shiny that she snatched out of the air. It was a gold coin. “That’s an genu-wine British Sovereign gold piece darlin’. It’s damn old too. Guess this means there is a treasure to be had.”

“I still don’t know the point of this treasure hunt,” she settled down across from him, nearly close enough to touch, but not quite. “We don’t need money here.”

“We won’t be here forever. Someday someone’s goin’ to find us,” he took a deep breath and drew up one long leg to rest his hand across his knee. “We ain’t goin’ to be on this island for the rest of our lives.”

#17 Fear - Sawyer

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 18:14:26 GMT

James "Sawyer" Ford
LOST
Author: sanguinepen
Word Count: 323
Rating: PG
Setting: Before the series.
Prompt: #17 Fear 7/50 for 50_darkfics

They grabbed him right out of the bar where he’d been trying to get his shaking hands under control. There was no warning, well no more than them identifying themselves as the police and that he – James Ford – was under arrest. His heart was pounding, and he could smell his perspiration as they slapped the cuffs on him. They didn’t say why they were taking him, but he knew. It was because he’d murdered a man, an innocent man. A man who had made the mistake of trusting the wrong person, just like he had, and now one was dead and the other was on his way to hell. Did they have the Death Penalty in Australia? Would they shoot him? Lethal injection? Or did they have some other interesting way of putting a murderer to death like keel hauling him or tossing him out into the ocean with the Great Whites?

“Hey now,” he hissed as they shoved him in the back of the police car.

“Shut up you,” the cop snapped as he nearly slammed the door on the tall America before he was all the way inside.

“But what the hell do you want?” Ford knew that it was always best to feign ignorance. Never, ever, let them know you were guilty of anything, until they shoved you they had proof, and even then you might still be able to come up with a lie or twelve to get out of trouble. “I didn’t do nothin’ to nobody. Just mindin’ my business havin’ a drink.”

“Not going to be discussing it with you,” the cop glanced up at him through the heavy mesh of the cage that separated the front from the back seat. To Ford it felt like he was on the end of a plank waiting for the churning waters to rip the flesh from his bones. Fear was clouding his mind as they drove slowly through Sydney.

Unforgiving

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 19:01:02 GMT

James "Sawyer" Ford
LOST
Author: sanguinepen
Word Count: 336
Prompt #77 Unforgiving 6/50
Rating: PG
Notes: lost in the foster care system

He had his stuff shoved into the single duffel bag the social worker said he could have. It was old and tattered, not the nice one he’d gone into the group home with. That one had been stolen by one of the older boys when they’d cornered him the first night and pounded the living shit out of him taking what they wanted. Jimmy Ford had been so scared. His eyes red from crying, his lips still shaking and the hiccups wracking his thin body, he’d been easy prey for the more street savvy delinquents.

Now his lip was split, and he could taste his own blood every time he ran his tongue over them to moisten them. It seemed that while his eyes were constantly running along with his nose, his mouth was dry as a litter box. His clothes were dirty, and he missed having someone to look after him. He didn’t understand why his father’s family didn’t want to take care of him. His own granny had told the social workers no, when they’d gone knocking at her door. He added her name to the list of people he’d never forgive, right under his mother, father and Sawyer.

“Jimmy?” the lady with the skin like a Hershey bar called him from the door. “You ready to go yet?”

“Almost,” he said as he picked up the letter. It was written on wide rule paper, and he shoved it into the pack with care. Someday he’d know where to send it, but until then he’d take good care of it even if no one was taking care of him.

“You’re a mess sweetheart.” He didn’t like that she called him that. She always smelled like too much perfume and not enough baths. Her clothes were nice, but she just felt funny to be around. “Did the other boys beat you up again?”

“No,” he said narrowing his eyes at her as he tugged the crappy duffel over his shoulder. “I fell down the steps.”

Death Becomes Her

Sun, 16 Jul 2006 05:28:04 GMT

Title - Death Becomes Her
Character - James "Sawyer" Ford
Fandom - LOST
Author - sanguinepen
Rating - PG
Word Count: 439
Prompt for deviant_muses #2 - July 2006
Prompt for 50_darkfics #14 Coffin/Buried

It was hot even beneath the trees. He’d walked slowly through the cemetery where his parent’s plot was. As far as James Ford knew it was the last piece of land that his family owned. All the rest of it had been foreclosed on when his mother had given all the family’s money to a conman named Frank Sawyer. Back when Jimmy Ford was a kid.

They’d lost their pretty house. They’d lost their cars, their boats, and their business. Then his father had come to the crappy apartment where he was living with his mother, and killed her then himself on the bed that Jimmy was hiding under.

That was close to twenty years ago now. He was broke again. It was either feast or famine with him even at the best of times. He’d learned to play the game, and he hated himself for it.

“Well mom,” he said as he crouched before her grave, wiping his large hands over her tombstone, a hint of blue chalk beneath his thumbnail. The inscription read – devoted wife and mother. His father’s was about as truthful, but then he figured it couldn’t exactly say. Sarah Ford – slut and home wrecker, and his father’s couldn’t say – murdering cuckold. “Things are pretty much goin’ to shit again, but then that’s the way it’s been since you screwed up my life. I’m thirty, today mom, and I ain’t got enough money to fill the tank in my car. I know, I haven’t been here in a long time neither, not since they put you both in the ground and I had to pretend that I understood what was goin’ on. I know how it works now mom. Run the con myself more than a few times. Been lookin’ for Sawyer too. Someday I’ll find him, and I’ll blow his head off like daddy did yours.”

He got up, cupping his hands around his lighter as he lit up a cigarette, blowing smoke down at the graves. “Just wanted you to know that if I ever do find him, and I have my revenge it won’t be for either of you. Should have been stronger. Should have kept your legs shut. Should have been faithful to my dad, or just divorced him like a normal woman. You had no right to take the money he’d earned and given it to that man. When I kill Frank Sawyer, it’ll be for me.” He leaned back against the tree, slowly finishing the cigarette, and then flicked the butt onto her grave. “Be seein’ you in hell mother. I’m sure that’s where I’m headin’ thanks to you.”

Ramblin' Man - Sawyer Mix - for fantrack

Tue, 20 Jun 2006 18:46:25 GMT

Fandom: LOST
Character: James "Sawyer" Ford
Theme: Road Trip Music inspired by Sawyer before and on the island.
Art & Fiction: sanguinepen

Comments are like crack!!!

Song List: For Lyrics
Lie to Me
Ramblin' Man
Bad Company
Gimme All Your Lovin'
Sweet Home Alabama
Life in the Fast Lane
Bad to the Bone
Tush
Rack 'em Up
Gimme Three Steps
Wanted Man
American Woman
Sharp Dressed Man
You Really Got Me

Gimme Three Fics!

Bad to the Bone –

He settled into the shadows of the bar, which wasn’t hard, since the place was made mostly of shadows. The floor was stained, from years of spilt beer, whiskey and blood, a dull dark grayish brown. The man swirled the cheap whiskey in his glass. He hadn’t been able to afford a named brand, and with things turning out the way there were he was going to have to keep a low profile down under. His knuckles were stained with yellow from too many cigarettes, cracked and brushed from a fight he’d tried to avoid the night before. When he glanced into the dirty mirror behind the bar, he almost didn’t recognize the old man who was looking back at him. At times like this, when he was low on cash, he had a hard time remembering who he had been.

The door of the bar opened, sending in a shaft of stabbing light. The man with the cheap whiskey wasn’t the only creature of the night that cringed as it flickered across the room until it faded into a thin line and vanished. He looked up from beneath a stained baseball cap that hid his now balding head. He remembered what it was like when he had thick golden hair that any mark would sell her soul to wrap her fingers into. Those were the good old days.

Sawyer watched as a tall blond shambled into the bar. He was shaking a bit, and looked like he’d just watched something horrible happen. He didn’t care, didn’t matter to him who anyone was as long as they weren’t looking for him. He’d heard rumors that he there was someone looking for him, and that that someone had actually come all the way to Australia to find him. But so far, he’d flown under the radar of whoever it was.

“I need a shot of Jack,” the new blond said, hair a bit too long to be in style, but enough to make a woman’s knees week framed his face. His accent wasn’t Australian at all. He was an American, and Sawyer didn’t miss the twang of the south in his voice. He’d spent quite a bit of time down south running one con or another over the years. He’d moved on when some bitch had got herself killed for hopping in the sack with him. “Make it a double.”

Another man came into the bar. He looked worse than Sawyer felt on a bad day. He was old and had the shakes that only came from being a long standing friend with the bottle. He settled down next to the blond, and they chatted a bit. Neither man said their names, so Sawyer settled back down when neither of them seemed to notice him to drink his rock gut whiskey.

Eventually the older guy left and the blond ordered another shot just as the door flew open again. This time, everyone froze as badges were flashed. “James Ford!” One of the cops said looking at the blond. Ford got up and started to try to get away. He was spitting and snarling out a string of cussing that would have made a navy man flinch. “You’re under arrest.”

James Ford, Sawyer shook his head and drained the last of his drink as the cops dragged him out of the bar. “Well as I live and breath,” he said watching as the man he’d created was taken away in handcuffs. He hadn’t raised the boy. Hadn’t been married to his mother, but what he’d done to James Ford’s family had made him who he was today. If Sawyer knew the half of it, he’d have either been proud or very, very afraid.

Sharp Dressed Man
He strolled around the edge of the country club’s pool, smiling here and there at the ladies of leisure whose husbands were off playing golf and getting drunk on the back nine while they basked in the harmful UV rays soaked in the latest keep young forever miracle SPF cream to preserve their beauty. Sawyer was one of the few men at the pool who wasn’t a cabana boy or waiter. He’d done both jobs before he’d learned a better way to make a living, so knew just how to behave to draw the attention of the lovelies with money. He has a towel slung over one broad bronzed shoulder, months spent digging ditches in the pen would do that for someone. His bathing suit fit well without being obscene, no little Speedos for his while he was working, although truth be told he’d much rather be swimming naked.

His sharp eyes hidden behind his expensive Ray Bans found his mark, and lucky for him the seat next to Mrs. Winifred Harris was empty. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he asked all sugar and sex. “Is this seat taken?” She was pretty, in her mid thirties, at the prime of her sexual peek, but the 6 carat diamond wedding ring on her finger was what really caught the conman’s eyes.

“No,” she said, her New England tones strange to the southern boy’s ears. “Please have a seat.”

Her glasses weren’t tinted as darkly as his were, so he didn’t miss her watching him as he spread suntan lotion on his well muscled chest and stomach. He could practically see her licking her lips as he moved his hands over his long legs one at a time. Yep, even over 30, and he still had it.

As he reached over his shoulder twisting away from her, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Let me get your back? I wouldn’t want you to get burned.”

“Why thank you,” he drawled arching his neck to let her spread the lotion over his back. “I’m Frank Sawyer. Nice to meet you.”

Girl You Really Got Me –

The sand was still warm from the beating it had taken during the day as Sawyer slipped along the shore to his favorite swimming spot. It was around an outcropping of lava, and hidden from the eyes of most of the rest of the survivors who were living on the beach. He glanced over his shoulder, the breeze blowing his shaggy blond hair into his eyes as he waited to see if anyone was following him. He let out a deep sigh when Kate didn’t step out of the jungle. She was probably out there trying to help Jack do something or other. For an outlaw, that girl sure had a lot of heart, he thought. Her lips had been so soft though, he smiled when he thought about their swim when they’d found the briefcase full of guns.

“Damn,” he swore as he peeled off his clothes, leaving them up on the outcropping of lava to make sure they didn’t get wet, and his last pack of cigarettes was protected. He was going to be so damned sorry when they were gone. “You are going soft on her.” The water was warm as he slid naked into the tide pool. It was shallow, and teaming with life. If Jin knew he was swimming in one of his favorite fishing spots, he was sure the Korean man would pop a vein or twelve. “But that’s why we go skinny dipping at night.”

He swam about in the pool, taking strong strokes safe from anything that might eat him on the other side of the reef, then settled back to just let the water ebb and flow around him. He kept finding his thoughts wandering back to Kate. She had gotten under his skin. There was a connection there that he couldn’t fight, and wasn’t at all sure that he wanted to. She was all the things he liked in a woman smart, pretty, tough, and not going to take any of his shit. She wasn’t like any of the girls he usually took to bed. They were marks most of the time, or just someone to fill a physical need. Freckles on the other hand was touching someplace deep inside of him. She might be able to get to Jimmy Ford, instead of Sawyer.

He swore, and climbed out of the water, shaking it from his hair as he dressed. Sawyer settled on the lava wall, and pulled out a cigarette. “Damn,” he took a long drag. “That girl is dangerous as hell.”

#83 Love

Mon, 19 Jun 2006 22:49:44 GMT

Title: That Girl is Dangerous
Author: sanguinepen
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Sawyer
Prompt: #83 Love
Word Count: 423
Rating: PG for Language
Author's Notes: Sawyer realizes some stuff about Kate that might complicate things...

The sand was still warm from the beating it had taken during the day as Sawyer slipped along the shore to his favorite swimming spot. It was around an outcropping of lava, and hidden from the eyes of most of the rest of the survivors who were living on the beach. He glanced over his shoulder, the breeze blowing his shaggy blond hair into his eyes as he waited to see if anyone was following him. He let out a deep sigh when Kate didn’t step out of the jungle. She was probably out there trying to help Jack do something or other. For an outlaw, that girl sure had a lot of heart, he thought. Her lips had been so soft though, he smiled when he thought about their swim when they’d found the briefcase full of guns.

“Damn,” he swore as he peeled off his clothes, leaving them up on the outcropping of lava to make sure they didn’t get wet, and his last pack of cigarettes was protected. He was going to be so damned sorry when they were gone. “You are going soft on her.” The water was warm as he slid naked into the tide pool. It was shallow, and teaming with life. If Jin knew he was swimming in one of his favorite fishing spots, he was sure the Korean man would pop a vein or twelve. “But that’s why we go skinny dipping at night.”

He swam about in the pool, taking strong strokes safe from anything that might eat him on the other side of the reef, then settled back to just let the water ebb and flow around him. He kept finding his thoughts wandering back to Kate. She had gotten under his skin. There was a connection there that he couldn’t fight, and wasn’t at all sure that he wanted to. She was all the things he liked in a woman smart, pretty, tough, and not going to take any of his shit. She wasn’t like any of the girls he usually took to bed. They were marks most of the time, or just someone to fill a physical need. Freckles on the other hand was touching someplace deep inside of him. She might be able to get to Jimmy Ford, instead of Sawyer.

He swore, and climbed out of the water, shaking it from his hair as he dressed. Sawyer settled on the lava wall, and pulled out a cigarette. “Damn,” he took a long drag. “That girl is dangerous as hell.”

Like Father, Like Son

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 01:04:34 GMT

James "Sawyer" Ford
Lost
Before the plane crash
Author: sanguinepen
Word Count: 621
Rating: PG
Prompt: #2 Dark Path 50_darkfics, Story from your parent's POV deviant_muses
Posted to: jenns_fiction, lost_fanfic, lost_roundrobin

He settled into the shadows of the bar, which wasn’t hard, since the place was made mostly of shadows. The floor was stained, from years of spilt beer, whiskey and blood, a dull dark grayish brown. The man swirled the cheap whiskey in his glass. He hadn’t been able to afford a named brand, and with things turning out the way there were he was going to have to keep a low profile down under. His knuckles were stained with yellow from too many cigarettes, cracked and brushed from a fight he’d tried to avoid the night before. When he glanced into the dirty mirror behind the bar, he almost didn’t recognize the old man who was looking back at him. At times like this, when he was low on cash, he had a hard time remembering who he had been.

The door of the bar opened, sending in a shaft of stabbing light. The man with the cheap whiskey wasn’t the only creature of the night that cringed as it flickered across the room until it faded into a thin line and vanished. He looked up from beneath a stained baseball cap that hid his now balding head. He remembered what it was like when he had thick golden hair that any mark would sell her soul to wrap her fingers into. Those were the good old days.

Sawyer watched as a tall blond shambled into the bar. He was shaking a bit, and looked like he’d just watched something horrible happen. He didn’t care, didn’t matter to him who anyone was as long as they weren’t looking for him. He’d heard rumors that he there was someone looking for him, and that that someone had actually come all the way to Australia to find him. But so far, he’d flown under the radar of whoever it was.

“I need a shot of Jack,” the new blond said, hair a bit too long to be in style, but enough to make a woman’s knees week framed his face. His accent wasn’t Australian at all. He was an American, and Sawyer didn’t miss the twang of the south in his voice. He’d spent quite a bit of time down south running one con or another over the years. He’d moved on when some bitch had got herself killed for hopping in the sack with him. “Make it a double.”

Another man came into the bar. He looked worse than Sawyer felt on a bad day. He was old and had the shakes that only came from being a long standing friend with the bottle. He settled down next to the blond, and they chatted a bit. Neither man said their names, so Sawyer settled back down when neither of them seemed to notice him to drink his rock gut whiskey.

Eventually the older guy left and the blond ordered another shot just as the door flew open again. This time, everyone froze as badges were flashed. “James Ford!” One of the cops said looking at the blond. Ford got up and started to try to get away. He was spitting and snarling out a string of cussing that would have made a navy man flinch. “You’re under arrest.”

James Ford, Sawyer shook his head and drained the last of his drink as the cops dragged him out of the bar. “Well as I live and breath,” he said watching as the man he’d created was taken away in handcuffs. He hadn’t raised the boy. Hadn’t been married to his mother, but what he’d done to James Ford’s family had made him who he was today. If Sawyer knew the half of it, he’d have either been proud or very, very afraid.

X Marks the Spot - Chapter Four

Wed, 31 May 2006 18:36:46 GMT

X Marks the Spot – chapter 4
Lost - Sawyer and Kate
Word Count: 1379
Rating: R - for violence and language
Author: sanguinepen
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Posted to _we_are_lost, lost_fanfic, lost_roundrobin

Chapters - 1, 2, 3

Sawyer stretched his neck until he felt it pop relieving a good bit of tension, and pushed up off of the fallen tree. “Be right back,” he said to her before stepping out of the clearing and into the brush. “Don’cha wanna know where I’m goin?”

“Sawyer,” she cocked her head, letting her soft hair fall about her shoulders. “I’m not stupid. I know sometimes a guy’s got to pee.” She giggled at the shocked look on his face, and grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t peek. It’s not like you haven’t flashed me more than a few times already.” Kate pulled her pack up from the ground, nudging a slug away with her tow before it could crawl onto the pack. She shuddered a bit. She knew it was stupid, but slugs gave her the creeps more than anything else on the island. At least the other bugs had the decency to try to move out of your way, well except for the roaches. They had their own way of doing things, and she was sure it all would lead to them having world domination someday.

“Earth to Kate,” Sawyer said jolting her out of her bug infested daydream with a jump. “You still with me Sheena?”

“Sorry,” she ducked her head and blushed just a little bit for being caught unaware. “I was thinking about something. And no, before you get cocky, it wasn’t about you. Although, you might qualify.”

“Qualify for what?” he asked as she started off into the jungle again. “Or don’t I wanna know?”

“You don’t want to know.”

He just grinned as he caught up a bit behind her. She was thinking about him, and that made him happier than a pig in shit. Around them the birds were chatting, mockingbirds and others filling the jungle with noises and life. Sawyer might have been born in the South, but that didn’t mean he’d lived on a farm. Until his father had killed his mother, he’d lived in a nice house with a big back yard, and played in it with his best friend. After that he’d lived in a few foster homes, but he’d never had to deal with the great outdoors like the jungle, and it made him nervous.

Suddenly it grew quiet. He wasn’t sure how far they were from camp. The last long trek he’d made around the island had been in a stretcher being dragged by Michael and Jin from the hell that was Ana Lucia’s company. Kate held up her hand, to tell him to keep his mouth shut. Sawyer listened as hard as he could, but all he could hear was Kate’s breathing and his own heart thumping in his chest.

“Run!” she said without raising her voice, and took off like a deer, her long legs carrying her through the tall grass and twisting vines like she had been born there.

Then he heard it, the clank of metal and the sound of huge feet pounding into the earth. Each step he took was echoed back at him by something bigger and meaner. He’d never seen the monster, but he knew that Kate had run into it more than once. “You don’t need to tell me twice.” He dashed along behind her, his long legs chewing up the distance to catch up with her until they came to a tangled growth of banyan. She vaulted up, scrambling to get purchase on the long roots that had grown from the branches into the ground. She slipped back against him, and he pressed her up into the tree with his large hands pushing on her rear end until she could get purchase.

His heart was pounding so hard.

//// flashback time because – well it’s a LOST story////

Violet had been sobbing when they’d told her she couldn’t have no more job, and Jimmy had cried right along with her. She’d been there to take care of him whenever momma and daddy had been too busy for him with work and social functions. Momma had lots of social functions, it was part of being a lady Violet had told him, but now momma had stopped going to functions.

Jimmy watched from his tree house as his parents got into another big fight, his daddy was so mad at his mother, blaming Mr. Sawyer for ruining their lives, sleeping with her and taking all their money. Then he told momma that he wasn’t even sure he was Jimmy’s daddy, and momma had hit his daddy. Jimmy winced from up in the tree seeing her handprint on his daddy’s rough cheek. Daddy hadn’t shaved that morning, said he had no reason too anymore. No job, no company, no life, he’d told Jimmy it was all over.

Then he’d told her to pack her bags and get her and her bastard out of his house. Momma was screaming and crying when she’d called for Jimmy, and made him pack up some of his clothes. He shoved his favorite t-shirts in the suitcase he had for staying over with his granny, and some shorts, toys and PJs. Before he could pack up his Hardy Boys books, she came in and told him they had to leave. Tears filled his eyes and ran hot down his cheeks as he was forced to leave behind his toys, books and his tank of fish. Momma told him he couldn’t take his dog with him neither, and he hated her for it.

“I wish you were dead,” he told her from the back seat of the car. “Then Mr. Sawyer couldn’t have took all our money. This is all your fault.” Jimmy didn’t say anything again after the back of his mother’s hand caught him across the mouth. He just stared at her through the rear view mirror licking at the blood from his split lip, wishing she was dead, and that he his daddy stilled loved him.

His momma drove into Knoxville, and got them a room at the Holiday Inn. Jimmy didn’t like how the room smelled like perfume, too much bleach, and the bedspread felt like sandpaper when he climbed onto one of the beds. “I’m going to take a shower, Jimmy. You watch TV.” Jimmy turned on the TV, and curled up on the bed to watch some movies on HBO. In the bathroom he could hear his momma crying before the water came on.

“It’s two bedrooms, Mrs. Ford,” the smelly bald man said, his beady black piggy eyes kept looking at his momma’s chest instead of her eyes. Jimmy didn’t like that, but he liked the hotel even less. “And it is in your price range. You’ll need to sign a six month lease.”

“Thank you,” she said keeping her airs about her like a lady, his momma followed the man back into his office to make it official. “Jimmy you play here until momma comes back with the keys.”

“Sweet dreams baby,” his momma said kissing him on top of the head in his room. It was very clean compared to his room at home, mostly because he didn’t have much to play with. His daddy was selling their big house, and momma kept saying when that happened they’d buy Jimmy new clothes and toys. She jumped when she heard the pounding on the thin door to their apartment. “Stay here.”

The shouting started right after the front door was knocked off its hinges. Then Jimmy heard his mother screaming and the sound of his daddy’s gun firing. He scrambled out of the corner of his bed, and crawled beneath it as he heard his daddy’s booted feet come down the hallway. He near screamed when he felt his father sit down on the bed. It wasn’t until the gun fired again, and the blood dripped through the thin mattress that he started to scream.

///meanwhile back on Fantasy Island////

Kate reached down for him, as his feet slipped on the roots again and again. Sawyer grabbed her hand, and let her pull him up. The monster was getting closer, and all the two of them could do was climb higher and higher into the banyan tree while they prayed to hell that they were out of the thing’s reach.

#31 Flame - James "Sawyer" Ford

Thu, 18 May 2006 16:45:01 GMT

Sawyer (aka James Ford)
Fandom - LOST
Author: sanguinepen
Word Count - 638
X Posted to: jenns_fiction, 50_darkfics
Prompt: Flames

“Did you get it?” Ted Fisher crawled between the high bushes of the hedge that separated his house from his best friend Jimmy Ford’s. Tucked in there next to the carrot headed boy were his Batman lunchbox and a book of damp looking matches that he’d fished out of the garage where his dad was allowed to smoke. Inside of his lunchbox he’d shoved a bunch of his older sister’s Barbie dolls in various states of disrepair brought on by the hands of the 8 year old boy and the family’s German Shepard. “Hurray up Jimmy. They’re going to be home soon.”

Jimmy was tugging the heavy red metal canister that he’d found in the garden shed. It was filled half the way up with gasoline, and was leaving bruises on his legs as the gas can bumped against his legs with every tugging step. It was a three-gallon can, and would have been impossible to move if the boy hadn’t been a bit tall for his age. Jimmy’s dirty blond hair was sun streaked, and he was in need of a haircut. “I got it,” the boy’s voice was snappish, and his green eyes kept darting towards the backdoor of the screened in porch that kept the cicadas and other bugs out of his mother’s afternoon teas on the veranda. “Hold your horses.”

Ducking into the hedge, Jimmy slugged Ted on the arm. “Stupid. If you keep making all that noise, Rebecca’s going to hear us, and she’ll tell my mom and dad. If I get a beating for this, I’ll kill you.” He didn’t mean it. It was just the normal threatening stance of a pair of children about to set fire to something for fun and experimentation.

“Where’s your mom anyway?” Ted asked as he dumped the dolls out of the lunch box, and began to fill it with the gasoline. “My mom says she don’t watch you enough.”

“Screw you Teddy,” Jimmy clumsily gave his friend the finger, while dipping the first vacant eyed Barbie doll’s head into the gasoline making sure it was soaking wet. His eyes were watering from the fumes as he helped Teddy dunk them all. “My mom’s just busy with her classes. She’s learning how to make flower arrangements. Better than your mom who’s around all the time. Can’t have no fun with her at your house all day.” Jimmy gazed down at his hands as he carefully arranged the Barbie’s for their slow painful burning death. He’d been hearing his parents fighting from their room across the big house they lived in. Mom was mad that his dad was too busy at work to spend time with them, and dad was mad that she was off taking classes and stuff too. Rebecca tried to keep Jimmy from hearing the fights by reading to him in his room or playing the TV loud, but the boy new his parents weren’t happy.

Ted’s fingers were shaking as he tried to get the matches to light, one, then two, then three went out before a single strand of synthetic hair ignited. Finally disgusted, Jimmy grabbed the book of matches from his friend, and got the last match to light, holding it carefully tucked near his body he set the matchbook on fire then dropped it on the dolls.

“James Ford!!!” he heard his nanny’s voice cry out, and felt her hand wrap around his shoulder hard while yanking him out of the hedge. The fire was crackling now, stinking of melting vinyl and burning plastic. “What are you thinking?” Teddy had run the second that he’d heard Rebecca’s voice; Jimmy could hear the screen door at the back of his house slamming shut. “Your father is going to hear about this one. Now hurry up and get the hose. NOW”

Deviant Muses - Near Death Experience

Wed, 03 May 2006 18:28:34 GMT

Sawyer aka James Ford
LOST
Word Count: 485
Rating: PG mostly for language
sanguinepen
deviant_muses

Going down the jet way was like takin’ the walk of shame. At least the Australian cops didn’t feel the need to parade me past the other passengers in leg irons, although deep down inside I sort of felt like they should have. I’d killed an innocent man. Ok, probably not an innocent man, but a man that I didn’t have no business killin’. He wasn’t Frank Sawyer. I’d been conned, and nothin’ pisses off a conman more than gettin’ conned by someone else. He’d played me like a fine violin. Makin’ me fly down to Australia to kill the man responsible for the deaths of my folks, and the ruin of my life. I’d been a fuckin’ patsy.

I got crammed into the middle of the row on the 747, Oceanic Flight 815, from Sydney to LA. I thought I’d be restin’ the tray table on the top of my knees. Planes are made for midgets and amputees. Ain’t made for regular people with legs and such at all. I just hoped I didn’t have to pee too often on the flight, and was crossin’ my fingers not to get stuck next to some smelly foreigner or religious fanatic. Nothin’ worse than listenin’ to some preacher prayin’ through the flight, askin’ if you believed in the Lord, ‘cept sittin’ next to some person with a lack of personal hygiene.

When I got sandwiched between a honeymoon couple and some punk kid, I just closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep. Didn’t really fall asleep, but I looked convincin’ enough for the honeymooners to talk dirty to each other in ear shot. Sure as hell was better’n the movie they were playin’ on the flight.

Guess I really did fall asleep at one point. Next thing I knew the plane got shook like god had decided to smack it down. Yes, I believe in God. I just don’t need to hear about him. Everything bounced, and the yellow oxygen masks popped down from the ceilin’. I grabbed at mine, nearly yankin’ it our of the roof, and started gaspin’ for air as the plane shook again. Behind me the tail just fuckin’ fell off. I gripped the seat, so hard I could hear my knuckles poppin’. Holy fuckin’ shit. I’m goin’ to die….

The screams from the engines drowned out the screams of the other passengers. I watched as my life flashed before my eyes. Saw my momma as she came to tell me to hide under the bed of our apartment because my daddy was there and pissed. Heard the sound of the shots as he blew a hole in my momma’s face and then blew his own head off. I saw “Frank Sawyer” crumple to the ground besides his roach coach and die tryin’ to figure out why the hell I shot him. I saw it all. Then it all went black.

X Marks the Spot – chapter 3

Fri, 28 Apr 2006 18:10:56 GMT

X Marks the Spot – chapter 3
Lost - Sawyer and Kate
Word Count: 1094
Rating: work safe
Author: sanguinepen
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Posted to lost_fanfic

Even so close to the dawn, where the horizon was barely starting to lighten to a lighter shade of blue linked with the pale peach of the morning sun, the air of the Island was still warm and humid. It had rained the night before, leaving cow bellies full of water in the roof of Sawyer’s tent. Kate had padded across the camp on feet that any cat burglar would be jealous of only to find him still sound asleep. She had a heavy backpack over one shoulder and her hiking boots tightly laced around her ankles as she thought about poking a hole into one of the sagging sections of his tent roof to send water pouring over him to wake him up.

She slipped a bit into the tent, still amazed that he hadn’t woken up yet. It worried her a little. Was he still recovering from the gunshot wound? She didn’t want to bring him out into the jungle away from Jack and the medicine if he was still sick. He looked almost innocent as he slept, the long fringe of his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. If it wasn’t for the stubble of his beard, she’d thought he looked like the lost little boy that she knew James Ford really was.

“Sawyer?” she said softly, kicking at his foot to wake him up.

“What!” he snapped up in an instant, the thin blanket he’d covered his nakedness with falling to his waist. “Shit, Freckles you about gave me a heart attack. Y’all might want to make a noise when you come into a man’s tent.”

“Well you might want to be awake and ready to go when I come get you.” Kate frowned down at him. “I expected you to wake me up this morning, ready to go find the Black Rock.” Besides, she thought, now he was going to have to get into his gun stash with her tagging along. That brought a smile to her face as he rolled over flashing a very nicely shaped butt covered in only a small pair of underpants that left nothing to her very active imagination.

“Don’t get your shorts in a knot, Sunshine,” he grumbled as he climbed to his feet, bumping his shoulder against one of the cow bellies and sending the water down the sides of the tent. “I got watcha need right here.” Sawyer reached beneath into a pack, and showed her a pair of guns. “I packed last night. Didn’t want you followin’ me out to my stash this mornin’ and tellin’ the good doctor and Locke where it is.”

“I wasn’t going to do that,” Kate snapped at him, and then stomped back out onto the still damp sand. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t trust me Sawyer.”

“Sweetheart,” he smirked as he yanked on a pair of jeans and boots for the hike, lastly pulling on a dark t-shirt with only a few holes in it. “I might like you, but you’re probably the last soul on this damned island that I’d ever trust. We’re too much alike for that.” After brushing his teeth in a bucket of rain water outside of his lean-to, he handed her one of the prized guns and a box of ammo. “Be like a cat trustin’ a spider not to hunt.”

They left the camp like a pair of ghosts, even Sawyer’s footstep muffled by the natural sounds of the jungle around them. Rain drops trapped in the foliage fell on them as they cut through the dense trees, but no new rain fell with the coming dawn. Sawyer tried to memorize as much of the trail as he could, but so much of the place looked alike to him, black lava, trees, vines, water, more trees, more lava, and yet more rocks. He didn’t ask her if she knew where she was going. He’d lied when he said he didn’t trust her. While he might not trust her heart and her motives, he did trust her sense of direction. There was no way the girl was going to get them lost in the jungle.

“Sheena?” he said after about two hours of silent hiking. He’d already set land marks into his head when he could, and hummed the entire contents of the CD case he’d left in his car back in LA at the airport long term parking where it’d probably been auctioned off by now. “Why don’t we take a break? Sun’s up, and we ain’t had breakfast yet.”

“OK,” she scanned the area, and led him to a fallen palm tree that looked to be a good rest spot. “You’re ok aren’t you? Your shoulder doesn’t hurt does it?”

He grinned sheepishly at her concern. It tickled at the tiny spot of softness left in his armor plated heart more than he’d ever admit to her. “I’m fine, darlin’. I’m just hungry. Wish that plane had dropped some smokes too. Don’t remember the last time I had a cigarette.”

“Well I’m sure the lack of tobacco and alcohol has been good for you.”

“Please don’t remind me,” he ran his fingers through his hair. It was already growing out from the haircut she’d given him when he’d been well enough to go outside. “I have lived most of my life doin’ what’s bad for me. All this healthy livin’ is not what I call livin’.”

“I’m sure you’re missing the morning hack and hangover,” she teased as she pulled a pair of Darma energy bars from her pack, and handed him one. “I kind of like it here. I mean before the others, it was kind of safe.”

“Well except for the damned monster. Hope we don’t run into that thing. Didn’t bring the elephant gun.”

“Hopefully we won’t need anything bigger than what we brought.” Kate gazed out across the small clearing towards the dense jungle that surrounded them. The bright blooms of the hibiscus and other flowers hiding the gods alone knew what.

“Your lips to god’s ears, Freckles. But I do have to admit that I miss the piggy dinners. Shame Locke’s too busy with the Hatch to go huntin’ anymore, and we all know how much I suck at it.”

“That’s just because that deadly smile of yours doesn’t work on the boars.”

“Well I don’t try to use it on the borin’. Does it work on you?” he grinned making her heart catch in her throat. It was times like this that she really wished he was ugly.

X Marks the Spot – chapter 2

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 18:22:07 GMT

X Marks the Spot – chapter 2
Lost - Sawyer/Kate
Word Count: 1034
Rating: work safe
Author: sanguinepen
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Posted to - lost_fanfic

“I want you to tell me about the Black Rock.”

“There’s not a whole lot to tell,” Kate said as she picked at a frayed tear in the thigh of her jeans. Sawyer found his eyes flickering over the patch of golden tanned skin that showed through the hole. It had been a long time since he’d gone swimming with her, when they’d found the Marshal’s guns, and he did have to wonder just how much prettier she had gotten since then. The woman made him want to be a better person sometimes, and he really hated her for that. “Rousseau told us about it. We hiked inland until we found it. We were pretty surprised to find out it was a ship. Arnst died while we were getting the dynamite that we used to blast open the Hatch.”

“Arnst?” Sawyer’s brow creased while he tried to remember who that was, and then nodded as he recalled the rabid high school science teacher who’d started going on and on about the monsoon season and such before they’d left on the raft. “Oh yeah, I was wonderin’ what happened to him. He was a twitchy guy. All that rantin’ about the weather and such.”

“Well let’s just say, it wasn’t a good way to go out. You don’t want the details.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. I might just be that bored.” Leaning back against the palm tree, Sawyer rubbed a spot between his shoulder blade that he pretended was itching like crazy while he collected his thoughts and what his next move should be. If there was a treasure out there, he wasn’t too sure he’d want to share it. But if he did have to share it, Kate would be his first choice. He’d be damned if that fucking self-righteous prick Jack got a hold of it. Sides, he was a doctor, and didn’t need the money anyways. “So what kind of ship was it? How do you think it got that far inland?”

“It was from the 1800s,” she said as she reached over to scratch the spot on his back without even thinking about it. She’d never been one to have long nails, but it was nice to see the smile of pleasure on his face instead of one of his sneaky cat ate the canary ones he usually wore. She was trying so hard to trust him, and not hold things against him that he had nothing to do with. “There were chains for holding slaves or prisoners on it. We didn’t explore a whole lot of it though. Arnst had us all totally freaked out about the dynamite. It was sweating and very unstable from the heat and time and stuff.”

“And Hurley made it all the way out there?” Sawyer snorted. “I’d figure he’d be pretty damned unstable from the heat and walk and stuff.”

“He did just fine.” Kate didn’t add in the part about Hurley going ape shit when he’d seen those numbers on the Hatch. “We brought three sticks of the dynamite back to the Hatch to blow it open, and left the rest. What are you thinking about? You’re not planning on going after the dynamite are you? What would you want with it? Can’t see you trading it for food.”

“I don’t want the dynamite.” He climbed up to his feet, and stretched wrapping his long arms around his torso until his back popped just right. “I was just curious about the ship. I mean what were they carrying ‘sides slaves or prisoners. Was it one of those ships they sent to Australia full of prisoners? Did the polar bear come from it? There’s a lot of questions about this place, and maybe some of the answers are on that boat. Did y’all read the captain’s log?”

“Not really,” she let out a ragged sigh as she stepped up besides him to look out onto the endless blue horizon. “We were in a hurry. Rousseau told us about the others coming for the boy, so we were going to try to hide down there. It was a race, and we didn’t know that the boy they wanted was Walt.”

“Well, we found out about that didn’t we?” Sawyer rubbed at the now mostly healed bullet wound on his shoulder. “I want to go out there. See what’s up with the ship. Don’t want no dynamite. I’ve got the guns, why would I need dynamite?”

“I never know what you’re up to Sawyer.”

“What makes you think I’m up to somethin’? Can’t a man just be curious? Think I’ll head out there tomorrow morning. Just need to get a map, unless you wanna come with me?” he gave her a sweet gentle smile and did his best to look like an innocent little boy. “Or is it across that line that the Others gave us?”

“No, it’s not in their territory. Sure I’ll go with you. I’m curious too, and well I really don’t have anything else to do.” She glanced across the beach towards where Jack was talking to Rose about something. “I don’t seem to be needed around here very much these days.”

“Well I need you, Freckles.” He said before he could stop the words from passing his lips. He didn’t know if she believed him or not, and he wasn’t too sure that he was happy to admit to himself that it was true. He loved her. Someday, he might even tell her, but he wasn’t ready to expose that kind of weakness to her or anyone. “Tomorrow morning then? I’ll bring us each a gun.”

“Wow Sawyer and they say you don’t know how to show a girl a good time.” Sawyer settled back down to watch as we walked across the beach towards her tent admiring the way her jeans fit her in all the right places. He had expected to see her go to Jack to snitch on him and his plans, and a broad shit eating grin appeared on his face when she didn’t. There was trouble between them, and if he played his cards right, the good doctor would be out of the picture.

X Marks the Spot – chapter 1

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 19:29:49 GMT

X Marks the Spot – chapter 1
Lost - Gen Kate and Sawyer so far
Word Count: 535
Rating: work safe
Author: sanguinepen
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Posted to:

“You got dynamite off a pirate ship?” Sawyer narrowed his green eyes at Hurley who was telling Libby about how they had blown the cover off of the hatch. The conman hadn’t really bothered to find out the details of where they’d gotten the explosives. He’d been too fucking sick with fever when Anna Looney had dragged him back to the majority of Flight 815’s survivors. He’d just been too happy to be alive, and to find Kate hovering over him while he was on the mend to really care. But now, here was Hurley telling the tale for the new girl to hear about it. They seemed to be pretty chummy. He didn’t miss the way her knuckles brushed against the fat boy’s while they sat next to each other.

“Do you mind?” Libby glared up at the tall blond as he settled his butt against a palm tree arms folded across his chest to listen. “We’re having a session?”

“Oh is that what y’all call it now?” he smirked and rolled his eyes. “A session with the shrink? Well not a bad idea, since he’s been off his rocker more n’ a few times.”

“Piss off Sawyer,” Hurley snapped. He was not in the mood to deal with the sociopath. “You want to know about the pirate ship? Go ask Kate or Jack. They were there. They know all about it.”

Sawyer shrugged and stomped back over the pristine white sand towards the edge of the jungle where he pulled yet another paperback out of his back pocket to read while watching the horizon. The book wasn’t very well written. He was over seventy-five pages into it, and there hadn’t been a plot yet. All that had happened so far was the heroine getting laid by everyone in sight. That would have been fine for him, but the sex wasn’t very well written either. Whoever Anita Blake was, he really didn’t get why all the men in the book wanted to fuck her, wasn’t like she was the only woman in St. Louis. He knew there were a few more books in his stash by the author, but now he wasn’t sure he really wanted to read them. He’d have to wait until he was really desperate.

After about five more pages, the nagging voice in the back of his head kept saying – yo ho, yo ho a pirate’s life for me – images of gold, jewels and booty draped over skeletal pirates filled his head. “Naw, there ain’t no treasure,” he said tossing the book towards the beach.

“Bad book?” Kate smiled at him while scooping her curly brown hair out of her face. He smiled over at her, and patted the sand next to him. “You throwing anything else out?”

“What you need Freckles?” he kept the wolfish grin on his face. “I’ll give you anything you want for a story.”

“A story huh?” she dropped down onto her heels before settling on the sand besides him. She was reading the back of the discarded book, so didn’t notice him checking out her ass while she sat. “You want a bedtime story?”

“I want you to tell me about the Black Rock?”

deviant_muses Topic for April - Candy

Wed, 19 Apr 2006 18:57:10 GMT

Sawyer aka James Ford
Lost – Missing scene during the Long Con – Spoiler Warning
Word Count: 459
Rating: R – not work safe
Topic: Candy for deviant_muses
Restraints for 50_darkfics

“Don’t move,” Cassie giggled from beneath her tousled light brown hair as she scooted down the length of James’ tall lean body. She ran a string of kisses down his neck, pausing to nibble at each nipple before trailing more kisses and bites down his stomach and below.

“Not like I can Sunshine,” he said pulling against the silk scarves she’d used to tie him to her bed for a little fun and games after pulling off their latest con job. He pulled on them again, even though he had little to no desire to get free. He really did think he might love her. Sure he said the words to her all the time, that was part of the long con he was running, but sometimes when she was doing her best to make him crazy with lust he really started to wonder if he did love her. “Y’all got me at your tender mercies.”

“And that’s just the way I like it.” She sat back, and licked her lips. She loved him. He was so different from her husband, and he’d taken her dull and boring life away from her. Taught her how much fun it was to take advantage of stupid people who really had it coming, and the sex…well that was something else entirely. She couldn’t even imagine tying her ex to the bed like this. He’d been so safe and boring.

Cassie reached over the edge of the bed, and Sawyer could hear her fumbling with something or other. “What you got there?” he quickly hid a worried look. Sometimes the girl could get a bit kinkier than he’d been prepared for. “You ain’t got those nipple clamps again, do you?” He hadn’t liked that at all. Well not when he was on the receiving end anyway.

“Nope something much more fun,” she pulled up a long blue paper straw, and bit off the end of it. “Pixie Sticks. The blue and orange are my favorites. Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you have the other colors when it’s your turn.”

“That tickles,” James giggled a bit as he felt her pour the flavored sugar over his thighs and cock. “Be sure you don’t miss none. Don’t want no sticky spots left over when you’re done.”

“I’ll do my best,” she gave him a wicked smile and began to slowly start licking away the flavored sugar one slow inch at a time while her hair tickled the rest of him.

“Jesus Christ! I’m so going to spank your ass until it’s as red as your lips when you let me go.” By the time she sprinkled the last tube of blue over him he was begging untie him and to hurry up.

Deviant Muses - One of the Biggest Drunks

Wed, 01 Mar 2006 18:39:59 GMT

Sawyer
Lost
Word Count: 621
Rating: NC 17 – not work safe
deviant_muses

I wove through the crowds clutching the bright transparent red plastic tumbler that was filled with a frosty slurry of a hurricane. God I loved New Orleans where public intoxication wasn’t just pretty much legal it was pretty much the rule. Between the booze Slurpies and the tits being flashed at me, I was in heaven. It also didn’t hurt that I was in the money for a change. The last con had gone off without a hitch, which in and of itself was a fuckin’ miracle. God was smilin’ down at me today, or the devil was sendin’ good thoughts my way. Either was just fine. Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

“Hey sexy,” Heather purred at me as I slipped past her mostly naked body into her Bourbon Street apartment. It was hot and muggy, and I could almost taste the perspiration glistening on her pert man made tits. “I was wondering when you were coming back or if you’d found some other girl to spend the rest of Mardi Gras with.”

“Now would I do that to you?” I rubbed the cold tumbler over the flat of her stomach as I sauntered through the converted townhouse towards the wrought iron balcony to watch the upcoming parade from one of the better vantage points on the street. It was the view outside and in that had made me set my sights on Heather to begin with. “I’m not that easy.”

“Liar,” she teased coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist was I tossed a string of beads to a teenaged girl with long legs and freckles. Her boobs were real, unlike the pair pressed against my back. I rubbed my hand over Heather’s left, feeling the 5 carat diamond that was planted there. “Come inside. I want to play.”

“Baby,” I turned giving her a firm kiss that should have rocked her world. “I want to watch the parade. I promise to be on top of things real soon.” I drained the rest of my hurricane, and handed her the empty cup. “Why don’t you fill that with some Jack n’ Coke, and we can have fun looking at the riff raff down there?” I sipped at the drink when she brought it back. She’d wrapped her plastic perfect Barbie body in a gossamer kimono that was as transparent as a dragonfly’s wing. She really was beautiful, shame none of it was real. But then the ones with the fake body parts always had money to spare.

“Here,” she smiled again getting down on her knees in front of me on the balcony where her augmented ass was hidden from view by a large bougainvillea covered in cherry red flowers and thorns. Heather hooked her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and tugged the zipper down with her teeth. I did my best to keep watching the parade, but well it was had to ignore her cherry pink lips as they slithered over my dick with her tongue. At least I was pretty sure her tongue was genuine even if the lips were collagen flavored.

I drained the rest of the drink before dropping the tumbler over the edge where I heard a yelp, but didn’t care. My vision started to blur, and the floor went out from under me. Last thing I remembered was the sound of the back of my head hitting the hardwood floor with a loud crack.

Bitch had slipped me a mickey. When I got up, my hotel room key was gone, and so was the key to my car. When I got to the hotel it was all gone. I’d been conned. Fuck.

"Favorite Sin - Greed

Mon, 30 Jan 2006 19:17:32 GMT

Sawyer
Lost
Word Count: 317
Rating: work safe
deviant_muses

He did his best to stay calm, to keep his poker face on as the pile of chips at the center of the table grew larger and larger. Sawyer didn’t check his cards, he already knew that he had three of a kind, and was betting he’d get lucky and pull a full house. He tossed another $1500 chip into the pot, and smiled as another player folded. Now it was down to just three of them. He watched while sipping from his whiskey as another pair of chips hit the pile. He almost licked his lips as he thought of how he was going to spend his winnings, but couldn’t afford to even smile. He had to stay calm and cool. It was time to use all the acting talent he’d gained over the years.

He picked up the new card that was dealt to him, and his hopes for a full house were dashed to the ground, stomped on by an elephant in a black dress and crapped on by the entire monkey house of the San Diego Zoo. The three of a kind were going to have to do it. He was into the pot by a good ten grand now, and long past playing with his own money. If he lost now, he was going to owe his loan shark plenty, not that that was unusual.

Down to two players, he finished the last of his drink. He wasn’t bluffing now. He had three jacks. It should be enough. The pot was well over 40 grand, and he needed the money badly. He laid his cards down with a smirk. “Read ‘em and weep,” he leaned back and finished his JD. “That is what they say isn’t it?” His stomach filled with broken glass as the greasy haired gambler at the other side of the table laid out four of a kind. “Shit.”

I had no idea there were so few of you

Thu, 29 Dec 2005 12:58:01 GMT

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One Phone Call - tag Selina/SnakeOpen

Tue, 29 Nov 2005 19:14:39 GMT

Sawyer sat in the interogation room, his hands cuffed in front of him. "Mind if I have a smoke?" he asked the fed in his dark blue suit. The man reached into his pocket, and handed Sawyer a pack and a lighter. "Thanks." With an ease of practice from several other times in handcuffs, Sawyer had no trouble lighting the cigarette. He slid the lighter and pack back towards the suit. "So what's the deal goin' to be? You goin' to throw me into a federal pen, or you goin' to be happy with just seizin' everythin' I've got?"

"You should probably wait for your lawyer to talk about this Mr. Ford," he said tapping at the large file that Sawyer assumed had his records from various points across the country.

"Mr. Ford was my daddy," he said bitterly. "Just call me Sawyer. That's what everybody else does. When do I get my phone call?"

Dread Pirate Sawyer - tag Kat

Mon, 31 Oct 2005 04:36:09 GMT

Sawyer arrived right on time to pick up Kathryn for the big Halloween blow out at Vices. He was dressed in the Dread Pirate Roberts costume that one of the girls at the store thought would be perfect for him. He did like the whole black thing, and the sword was a nice touch even if it was plastic. He just wondered what Kat would be dressed as. She had told him it was a secret. He had tried a few things to get her to talk, including tying her to the bed and tickling her until she threatened to have him skinned, but she wasn't telling.

One thing he knew for sure. It was going to be damned sexy. "Come one darlin" he said as he rang the bell again. "It's time to be scary."

What my favorite TV Show?

Wed, 19 Oct 2005 18:07:57 GMT

Sawyer – James Ford
Lost
Word Count: 501
Rating: work and spoiler safe
deviant_muses

There was an itch between his shoulder blades that had just gotten bad enough to force the tall blond man to wake up just a bit from his afternoon nap near the beach to rub his back against the smooth bark of the palm tree he was resting against. His hair was sun streaked and much longer than he normally kept it although they ladies never did complain about it being longer than the normal fashion. It gave ‘em something to hold onto besides his butt between the sheets.

Sawyer glanced towards the endless blue water, watching through hooded amber flecked eyes as the waves broke against the shore of the pristine white beach. Not for the first time, he longed for the garbage strewn beaches of Florida where there were at least people about. He didn’t realize what he was looking at, at first, but something black and covered in jewels was bobbing in the warm water. With a smirk, the conman got up, brushing a layer of sand off his ass as he strolled to the water’s edge. Hunkering down, he pulled the jewel covered bottle from the drink. It was about a foot tall, wider at the base than the top and looked like one of them fancy perfume bottles you could pick up in a Middle Eastern bazaar. He held it up to the light and shook it a few times to see if there was anything inside, but instead of hearing liquid he heard something small and kind of softish hitting the walls.

He pulled the stopper out when he got back to his tree, and tipped the bottle upside down to knock out what was inside. With a hiss, pink smoke began billowing from the bottle. With a yelp, Sawyer tossed it away, and there before his eyes was the prettiest damned blonde he’d ever seen dressed in a pink harem outfit. “Master,” she bowed laying her forehead at his feet. “Your wish is my command.”

“Dammit, Jeannie,” he chuckled as he reached out to touch her soft golden hair. “I wish I was back at home, away from this damned island.”

“Don’t we all Sawyer,” he started awake at the sound of Kate’s voice. “But who the hell is Jeannie?”

“Jeannie?” he blinked as he reached for the pack of cigarettes that had long since been gone. “I was having a dream, Freckles.”

“That must have been some dream. Old girlfriend?”

“Don’t I wish? I wasn’t dreamin’ about anybody real. Was havin’ one about my favorite TV show.”

Kate let out a laugh, as she slid down against the next palm in the line to watch the ocean besides him. “Are you telling me that I Dream of Jeannie is your favorite TV show?”

“Well it was, when I was six,” he shrugged daring her to laugh at him again. “Besides, if she were real, she’d be a hell of a lot more help to us than me dreamin’ about the damned A Team.”

When Life Went to Shitsville

Thu, 06 Oct 2005 02:42:33 GMT

Sawyer/James Ford
Lost
Word Count: 686
Rating: R for violence
deviant_muses

Violet had been sobbing when they’d told her she couldn’t have no more job, and Jimmy had cried right along with her. She’d been there to take care of him whenever momma and daddy had been too busy for him with work and social functions. Momma had lots of social functions, it was part of being a lady Violet had told him, but now momma had stopped going to functions.

Jimmy watched from his tree house as his parents got into another big fight, his daddy was so mad at his mother, blaming Mr. Sawyer for ruining their lives, sleeping with her and taking all their money. Then he told momma that he wasn’t even sure he was Jimmy’s daddy, and momma had hit his daddy. Jimmy winced from up in the tree seeing her handprint on his daddy’s rough cheek. Daddy hadn’t shaved that morning, said he had no reason too anymore. No job, no company, no life, he’d told Jimmy it was all over.

Then he’d told her to pack her bags and get her and her bastard out of his house. Momma was screaming and crying when she’d called for Jimmy, and made him pack up some of his clothes. He shoved his favorite t-shirts in the suitcase he had for staying over with his granny, and some shorts, toys and PJs. Before he could pack up his Hardy Boys books, she came in and told him they had to leave. Tears filled his eyes and ran hot down his cheeks as he was forced to leave behind his toys, books and his tank of fish. Momma told him he couldn’t take his dog with him neither, and he hated her for it.

“I wish you were dead,” he told her from the back seat of the car. “Then Mr. Sawyer couldn’t have took all our money. This is all your fault.” Jimmy didn’t say anything again after the back of his mother’s hand caught him across the mouth. He just stared at her through the rear view mirror licking at the blood from his split lip, wishing she was dead, and that he his daddy stilled loved him.

His momma drove into Knoxville, and got them a room at the Holiday Inn. Jimmy didn’t like how the room smelled like perfume, too much bleach, and the bedspread felt like sandpaper when he climbed onto one of the beds. “I’m going to take a shower, Jimmy. You watch TV.” Jimmy turned on the TV, and curled up on the bed to watch some movies on HBO. In the bathroom he could hear his momma crying before the water came on.

“It’s two bedrooms, Mrs. Ford,” the smelly bald man said, his beady black piggy eyes kept looking at his momma’s chest instead of her eyes. Jimmy didn’t like that, but he liked the hotel even less. “And it is in your price range. You’ll need to sign a six month lease.”

“Thank you,” she said keeping her airs about her like a lady, his momma followed the man back into his office to make it official. “Jimmy you play here until momma comes back with the keys.”

“Sweet dreams baby,” his momma said kissing him on top of the head in his room. It was very clean compared to his room at home, mostly because he didn’t have much to play with. His daddy was selling their big house, and momma kept saying when that happened they’d buy Jimmy new clothes and toys. She jumped when she heard the pounding on the thin door to their apartment. “Stay here.”

The shouting started right after the front door was knocked off its hinges. Then Jimmy heard his mother screaming and the sound of his daddy’s gun firing. He scrambled out of the corner of his bed, and crawled beneath it as he heard his daddy’s booted feet come down the hallway. He near screamed when he felt his father sit down on the bed. It wasn’t until the gun fired again, and the blood dripped through the thin mattress that he started to scream.