Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

The Answer	By : TippyMidget Category: G through L > Lost Views: 1513 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or seek to profit from LOST or any of its characters. LOST and its characters belong to ABC, Cuse, Lindelof, etc.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
“Come on, Laura!” Juliet tried to restart Laura Kipken's heart on the operating table, but all the machinery indicated she'd been flat lined for over four minutes now. “Come on!”
“She's gone, Juliet.” Ethan took his surgical mask off and sighed, looking up at the clock. “Time of death – 3:58 pm.”
“No – she can't be – come on! Come on!” Juliet continued to pump her hands.
“Juliet...” Marian piped up from the corner, where she'd retreated after it had become obvious that Laura had died. Juliet finally whirled around and peeled off her surgical mask.
“Do you see?” she asked wildly, gesturing back toward the operating table. “Do you see what will happen? It's not too late, Marian; we can still fix it! Please, please, Marian!”
“Juliet!” Marian said again, this time with warning in her voice. She looked over to Ethan, who was now eying her suspiciously. Goodwin stared at her blankly, holding his bloody gloved hands up limply in the air, as if this was no surprise to him. Marian gulped.
“Are you...” Ethan began, and immediately Marian knew he had put two and two together.
“We should be thinking about Laura, not about me!” she exclaimed frantically. “And, anyway, if you want more information about it, go talk to Ben! I'm going home!” She whipped off her gloves and tossed them in the bin, dashing out of the operating theater and down the long, white corridor of the Staff Station. She threw open the door to the outside and emerged into the late afternoon sun, flinging off pieces of medical garb onto the ground and running away toward the Barracks.
As she ran, Marian felt hot tears begin streaming out of her eyes and course down her cheeks. They knew. They all knew, and it was Juliet's fault. She wasn't ready for everyone to know yet, and what had happened today with Laura Kipken was precisely why she wasn't ready. Women were still dying. She herself was probably going to die. She had signed her own death warrant the day she had knocked back the orange juice with sedative in it for the first time and told Richard to take her to Jacob.
Her lungs burned furiously as she scolded herself for her regrets. She was in love, and if she had to die for that love, well, wasn't that the ultimate sacrifice? She never would have met him if it hadn't been for this situation, and from his account, anyway, it had been her destiny to come to the Island and do exactly what she was doing now. Besides, he was different from the ordinary man who had impregnated Laura. She didn't know exactly how he was different, but he was exceptional, and she trusted him, and this whole thing had been his idea.
That didn't keep her from sobbing as she ran all the way back to the Barracks.
The yellow houses came into view, and at last Marian had confidence that she wasn't being followed. She stopped running and heaved air into her lungs, bent over at the waist and clutching her aching stomach. She walked slowly down the hill toward the sonic fence and looked back behind her, realizing she had run for miles while she cried. As she came into the Barracks, she tried not to get noticed, her face splotched red from exertion and tears, and her hair falling loose from its bun. She staggered into her house and shut the door behind her, leaning against it and digging her fists into her eyes. She continued sobbing, but suddenly got the sensation that she wasn't alone, and she dropped her hands to her sides and looked up into the living room.
“Jacob?”
Marian was so relieved to see him after two weeks that she didn't even think of asking him how, or why, he was in her house alone. She abruptly felt filthy after her run in her sweaty blue scrubs, and he looked clean and proper in his butter yellow button-down and white linen pants. He stood, with a look of sincere pity, in the middle of her living room, and he held out his hands to her to beckon her nearer.
She dashed across the room and collapsed into his arms, clutching his torso and crying into his chest.
“Where have you been?” she managed, realizing at once that she sounded not only pitiful, but accusatory, and that she hadn't even said hello.
He didn't seem to mind. “Tel Aviv,” he said simply, kissing the top of her head.
She looked up at him with sodden eyes. “Israel?” she asked confusedly. “What's in Israel?”
“Ilana is in Israel,” he answered. He didn't sound like he wanted to expound on the matter.
“Oh.” She wiped tears from her cheeks and sniffled. “It's none of my business,” she said.
“It will be, eventually,” he told her. He brushed his thumb under her eye and looked very deliberately at her. “It's not going to happen to you,” he said firmly.
“She's dead, Jacob,” Marian replied sullenly, another tear forcing itself to the surface.
“But you won't be.” He shook his head.
“Do you know that the same way you know what happened in the operating room? The same way you know everything else? Are you that certain?” She looked into his blue eyes and searched for an answer. He just bit his lip and stared back wordlessly. “I didn't think so,” she said after a long while. She sniffled again. “Can you bring her back?”
Jacob shook his head again. “No.”
“Can you make it so I won't die like you did to Richard?”
He took a step back and tipped his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at her. “What makes you think I did that to Richard?” he asked.
She scoffed. “It's not that hard to figure out, Jacob. What else could have done it?”
He gave her a conciliatory look and nodded. “Fair enough.” He sighed. “If I did that, there wouldn't be any baby.”
“I'll take my chances,” she said. She looked sternly at him. “But you're the one who has to live with it if I die. This is your plan, not mine.”
He looked somewhat hurt then, as if she'd struck a nerve, and it was the first time she'd seen that emotion out of him. He furrowed his brow and looked at the ground and chewed on his lip, and she instantly regretted reprimanding him.
“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. “I want the baby.”
“Reuben,” he said quietly, as though correcting her.
“What?” Marian asked, convinced she hadn't heard him right. He looked up at her and sighed heavily.
“The baby's name is supposed to be Reuben.”
“It's a boy?” she breathed, suddenly grinning. He smiled gently and nodded. Just as abruptly as it had come, Marian's smiled disappeared. “And I don't even get a say in naming him?”
Jacob chuckled. “You do,” he conceded.
“I like Reuben,” she admitted. She looked suspiciously at him. “Since when are you a Christian or a Jew?”
“I'm not,” Jacob shook his head.
“Reuben is Jacob's first-born son in the Bible,” Marian informed him.
“I know,” he nodded. He grinned at her.
She shook her head. “Should have known you weren't going to let me choose a good Scottish name like Duncan,” she said, and he laughed. “I should still be crying,” she lamented with a sigh. “Laura is dead.”
Jacob stroked her hair. “No,” he said. “It won't do any good to cry. All that will do is make you scared, and fear is not helpful right now.”
“Then help me get my mind off of it. No more talk about babies right now.”
“All right,” he yielded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back in close. She stood on her toes and snaked her arms around his neck. He crushed his mouth against hers and kissed her fiercely, immersing his tongue in her mouth and deftly coursing it around. His hands traced up the back of her shirt and ghosted down her flesh, leaving trails of electricity. She held onto him for all she was worth, clutching the back of his head and weaving her fingers through his blonde hair.
He put his hands on her waist and guided her across the room, sitting on the couch and pulling her down on top of him so that she was straddling his lap. Marian absentmindedly glanced over and confirmed that the blinds were closed on the windows and turned back to him.
“Jacob?”
“Yes?” He was driving her down onto his hips, and she felt his erection pushing insistently up. She gulped.
“You're never going to call me 'baby,' or 'sugar,' or 'honey,' or 'sweetheart,' or anything like that, are you?” she asked.
“Are you asking me that to reassure you that I'm not going to, or are you bemoaning the idea that I'm not going to?” His hands traced up the sides of her torso and hesitated over her chest.
She sighed. “I don't know. I... have sex with you. A lot. I'm in love with you. I'm pregnant with your child.”
“Tell me what you want from me, Marian.”
She looked him straight in his sapphire eyes. “I just want you to love me.”
He smiled, staring back into her green hazel gaze. “It's too late for that,” he said.
She sighed. “But here I am, all sweaty and disgusting, and you... you're perfect.”
Jacob laughed ruefully. “I'm not,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I'm very imperfect. I'm very flawed.”
“Oh, yeah? What did you ever do wrong?” She laced her hands through his and pressed their chests together. He swallowed hard and looked away, blinking slowly.
“I... damaged someone very close to me. Irreversibly. And I've brought people to this island to their detriment for many years. For a long time, I was very misguided. Maybe I still am.”
Marian narrowed her eyes. “Who did you damage?” she asked curiously, thinking he couldn't be referencing her.
He looked very deliberately back into her eyes and sighed deeply, licking his lips and looking like he was considering whether or not he wanted to tell her. Finally, he spoke.
“My brother,” he said quietly. “My twin brother.”
“What did you do?”
“I'd rather not talk about it.” He looked away again and frowned, furrowing his brow.
She squeezed his hands and tipped her head to the side. “Whatever you did, Jacob... I'm sure you've done a lot more good than harm in your life.”
“I'm not so sure about that.”
“I am,” Marian said confidently, leaning in to his exposed neck. She was sick of all the heavy talk, though she knew she'd rather brought it upon herself. She wanted him to be excited again, like he had been a few minutes ago. She kissed his neck, gently at first, and ground her hips slowly against him in a figure-eight motion.
“Ungh,” Jacob uttered, releasing her hands and grasping her waist. Her kisses at his neck grew more insistent and firm, and as he rose against her swiveling hips, she ground harder. His breath became deep and rapid, with little impassioned sounds escaping his lips. His hands slipped up her shirt and began groping her chest, and she squealed against his neck. She pulled away and reached up to his mouth to kiss him there, plunging her tongue into his mouth and leading the kiss herself. Her dexterous little fingers reached between them to begin unbuttoning his butter yellow shirt, pushing back the cotton fabric from his taut skin.
She was now essentially giving him what she suspected was the world's most un-sexy lap dance, given her wardrobe of light blue scrubs, her dirty physical state, her unkempt hair, and the knowledge that she was pregnant. Yet, he seemed to be enjoying it just fine, panting frantically when she broke their kiss and feeling rock hard beneath her.
“Marian, I can't take it any more,” he said deliriously, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and tipping his head back against the couch. “Please stop teasing me.”
“I'm not teasing you,” she insisted with a giggle. “This is foreplay.”
“Well, then, I'm ready for the main course,” he said with a wicked smile, putting his hands on her cheeks. She felt the hot, pleasant, familiar sensation course from his skin into hers, and she grinned.
“Can I use my mouth?” she asked.
“What?” he said incredulously, laughing nervously.
She looked at him seriously. “Please, can we go in the shower? I feel gross. And can I please use my mouth on you?”
“Marian...” He scratched his head. “You're not going to like that.”
“I know what I'm doing, Jacob.” She kissed him square on the lips and rose, taking his hand in hers and pulling him with her. He heaved himself off the couch and followed her into the bathroom.
She started the shower running and began shamelessly stripping off her clothes, peeling off the dirty scrubs and shucking her bra and underwear. She stood in the middle of the room, completely bare, and Jacob looked hungrily at her as he let his yellow shirt fall to the ground and untied his white linen pants. Soon enough, he, too, was standing nude before her, his enormous member at attention.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in her entire form, and he stepped toward her and hugged her against him. He pulled the tie out of her hair and combed the auburn waves loose with his fingers, kissing the top of her head.
“It's ready now,” Marian mumbled into the warm flesh of his chest, gesturing toward the shower. Jacob took her hand and pulled her into the hot water.
He watched her as the stream flowed over her hair, soaking it and plastering it against her head, and coursed down her body in currents, making her slick and shiny. He began touching her everywhere he could reach, his hands frantically slipping over her wet skin. She shut her eyes and absorbed the sensation of his contact, the exteroception heightening her arousal and quickening her breath. She opened her eyes slowly, her lips parted in expectation, and looked up into Jacob's shining blue gaze.
“Kiss me one more time,” she requested.
He did, leaning down and fiercely crushing her mouth with his, his hands clutching her sodden shoulders and pulling her into him. She reached with her small hand to stroke his hypersensitive organ, and he moaned loudly into their kiss. Marian grinned and pulled away, her fingers pausing mid-stroke. Jacob shivered.
“Please don't stop,” he said urgently, his low voice echoing against the tile. “I've needed you for so long.”
“Two whole weeks,” she noted with a wry smile.
“Longer than that,” he asserted, his hands sliding down to her backside.
“Twenty-one years,” she posited then, laughing.
“More like a few thousand,” he said seriously, putting his hand on hers and encouraging her to move again. Marian gave him a very odd look and thought instantly to herself that he was so much older than she had even begun to fathom, and that only now had he even hinted to her about his true age. He wasn't joking; she could tell. How old had she thought he was? Perhaps a few hundred years old, although, really, how much more insane and preposterous was it to be a few thousand years old? There was so much she wanted to ask him, though this was clearly not the time or place. But he had just demonstrated to her that he was willing to reveal information to her, that he was willing to casually share his secrets. She had confidence that he would tell her everything she wanted to know in due time. Well... perhaps not everything.
Marian shoved the thought of Jacob's age and her complete bewilderment from her mind and returned herself to the moment, to this blissful here and now. She leaned forward and kissed Jacob's sculpted chest, dripping with warm water. She flicked her eyes up to his and put her hands on his waist, slowly sinking down onto one knee, then the other.
“Marian...” he said quietly, sighing, “Please get up.”
“Why?” she asked, wrapping her hand around him, looking at it and noticing that his circumference was so great that her thumb didn't touch her fingers. “Let me please you,” she begged, looking up at him as water poured over her face.
He tipped his head to the side and smiled gently at her.
“Don't tell me you don't want it,” she said slyly, grinning up at him and pumping her hand against him. Her hand slid easily along his wet length, and he shut his eyes.
“Of course I do,” he said. “Only do what you want to do, though.”
“This is what I want to do,” she told him, and she wrapped her lips around the tip of his member. She pushed forward to take him into her mouth, realizing quickly that his monolithic girth barely fit and that she would only be able to absorb a small portion of his length. Nevertheless, Jacob gasped as she took him in, pulling him toward the back of her throat, caressing him with her tongue. His hands clutched at her hair, and he breathed loudly and quickly in the reverberant space.
She made swallowing motions to draw him deeper, eliciting a groan from him, and moved one of her hands from his waist to the part of his shaft she would never be able to fit in her mouth. She pumped her hand along his length as she thrust him in and out of her mouth, swirling her palm against his skin and up and over the tip before plunging her tongue back against him. Every time he was in her throat, she swallowed hard to pull him in deep, and she accelerated the tempo of her motions as Jacob's reactions grew more enthusiastic.
His fingers were plying anxiously with her hair, and he trembled beneath Marian's hand on his waist. He whimpered softly with each frenzied exhalation, mumbling her name over and over again in a bewildered fashion. She was unrelenting, though, in fact increasing the intensity of her ministrations in response to his agitated reaction.
“Marian!” he said after a while, his voice suddenly clearer and more imperative. “Stop!”
She did, pulling away and looking curiously up at him. She shifted on her aching knees, only then noticing the pain. “Why? What's wrong?” she asked. He stared down at her with blazing eyes, water dripping from his blonde hair. His chest heaved.
“I was going to...” His voice trailed off and his cheeks flushed as he looked away, shutting his eyes and taking a deep, shaking breath. Marian giggled.
“It's fine, Jacob,” she insisted. “That's usually how it ends.”
He made a face at her. “Well, at least use your hand instead. It would taste awful.”
In response, she stared up at him while she thrust him back into her mouth. She moaned loudly onto him, her voice vibrating onto the tip and shaft of his cock.
“Aagh!” Jacob cried out in a strangled voice, his hands reaching up for the wall behind Marian for support. He leaned against the wall and clenched his eyes together, his breath hissing between his teeth as he panted. His knees nearly buckled as he suddenly reached his climax, his voice releasing a tortured sound. Marian felt him harden even more in her mouth, and she drew him as far in as she could as his seed started spraying down her throat. She swallowed continuously, and most of the bitter fluid managed to go past her tongue before she could taste it.
She released him and braced herself on his waist, pulling herself up onto her feet. Her knees creaked and she trembled as she stood, looking up into Jacob's eyes. For a moment he just stared at her with a crooked smile on his face, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw.
“You should wash up before the water gets cold,” he said quietly, but his voice still echoed in the tiled space. She nodded, and he kissed her forehead. He turned to step out of the shower, his hand lingering on her shoulder, and looked wistfully at her. “I love you,” he said reverently, flashing her an affectionate grin. Marian blushed and nodded again and tapped his hand. He disappeared beyond the curtain. She hurriedly washed her hair and scrubbed herself clean, and when at last she felt spotless she shut off the water and toweled off, plaiting her hair into pigtail braids and brushing her teeth twice. She rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash, thinking to herself that if she were Jacob, she still wouldn't want to kiss herself.
She dashed across the hall in her towel and hastily threw on orange basketball shorts and a navy blue tank top, looking down at herself and realizing that she never dressed nicely for Jacob. She looked in her closet and contemplated putting a sun dress on, but her clock said it was 6:00, and she'd have to change again in a few hours anyway. Absentmindedly, Marian wondered where she was going to get maternity clothes; she'd brought all of the clothes she had to the Island with her from Pittsburgh and Chicago and hadn't gotten any new clothes in the past year. What would she do when she started gaining a significant amount of weight? She was six weeks along now, and she'd gained about seven pounds. Things were starting to get snug. She sighed and shoved the thought away, thinking that it was a problem Richard and Ben (or possibly even Jacob) would address.
She stepped out into the living space and saw Jacob sitting at the dining room table, his yellow shirt open on his chest with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His damp hair sat mussed atop his head, and he looked up at her expectantly.
She must have looked a little green, because Jacob gave her a knowing look and sighed.
“I didn't think you were going to feel well after that.”
“Well, it's not really food, is it?” she laughed nervously, tipping her head to the side. She did feel nauseous.
“Come here,” he said calmly, holding up his hands and scooting back his chair. She stepped toward him and stood against his chair between his knees. He reached up and put his hands on her cheeks. Marian shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Almost instantaneously, the nausea subsided and a pleasant feeling rushed through her veins. “Better?” Jacob asked.
“Yes,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
“Easy enough,” he said, smiling.
“Jacob?” She ran her fingers through his hair and looked down at him.
“Mm hmm?” He gazed back into her eyes lovingly.
“If you're as old as you say you are, how come you sound American?”
He laughed. “I can sound however I want. English isn't exactly what you would call my native language.”
“Well, what is your native language?”
“Nothing that you would recognize,” he said dismissively. “But I like Greek, and Latin, and lots of other languages.”
“Oh.” She furrowed her brow and looked pensively at him. “Where is Richard from?”
“Spain. Well, Tenerife,” he clarified.
“He doesn't sound Spanish,” Marian argued, as though she were trying to prove him wrong.
“He's had a long time to practice. Just like me,” Jacob said.
“I like languages,” she said rather defensively.
“I know you do. And you're very good at them,” he told her. “You don't have to speak English with me. You can speak whatever you'd like.”
“Tha gaol agam ort,” she said, grinning, wondering if he'd understand her if she told him she loved him in Scottish Gaelic. He did. He smiled back and said,
“Tha gaol agam ort-fhèin.” He took her hand in both of hers and kissed it. “I need you and Juliet to be on better terms,” he said seriously, sighing. “You need to sit down with her tomorrow and get her to accept this situation. Then you need an ultrasound.”
“I wouldn't have thought you would rely so heavily on modern medicine,” Marian said bitterly.
“I'm not taking any chances,” Jacob said, reaching up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. “I want you to get the best care you can. And I don't want you working anymore. I don't want you researching women dying while they're pregnant, or worse yet, seeing them die on the table. You don't need that. I'm telling Richard that, and he can tell Ben, and Ben can tell Juliet.”
“Jacob, that's the entire reason they brought me here. To work with her in the lab.” Marian pressed her lips in a line.
“No!” His eyes widened and he looked anxious. “I brought you here! For this! And I'll take you away if I have to, but I don't want you working anymore! You ran miles through the jungle sobbing today!”
“Please don't get upset,” she said calmly, putting her palm on his cheek. “I won't work, Jacob. What's the worst Ben could do to me?” She gulped, not really wanting to know the answer.
“I think a better question,” Jacob said, seething, “Is, 'What's the worst that I could do to him?'”
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Answer