For Better or Worse | By : DharmaCharma Category: G through L > Lost Views: 1267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the television show "Lost", nor the characters. I do not profit financially from the writing of this story. |
The phone rang exactly three and a half times. “Sayid? I can't talk long. I'm at a pay phone and they're tracking me. I need you to listen and don't ask any questions. We will rendezvous at 6:12am on Tuesday morning. You know the place. If I don't show up, leave immediately and go to the safe house. It means they got me and they're staking out the place.” Ben hung up the heavy plastic receiver and exited the phone booth. Perhaps a bit over cautiously, he looked around in all directions twice before darting across the intersection and ducking into an alley way. That same homeless man had been propped against the brick wall for the past three hours - wool watch cap slouched over his eyes, empty booze bottle covered by a crumpled brown paper sack in his right hand which had slumped beside his body. Ben wasn't sure if the man was dead, passed out, or perhaps a spy. He couldn't be too careful. He reached just inside his pants pocket, lightly fingering the pistol grip of his Beretta 9mm. Ben was always ready to take someone out, if the need arose. In these perilous times, he had to be all the more vigilant. He knew Sayid would do the same, which was why he reached out to him for help first. Sayid was smart, capable, strong, cunning, and just mentally unstable enough to shoot first, ask questions later, and not lose a wink of sleep over it.
Looking straight ahead, Ben advanced toward the back entrance of the rendezvous spot. Blue metal door, #7B. He rapped on it four times. Silence. He rapped four more times. That's when he heard the sound of a shotgun slide racking from the opposite end of the alley. It rang out in the darkness, echoing off the brick walls. Ben felt his insides churn. He turned slowly, hands held to the sky in a gesture of surrender. From where he was standing he could only make out the shadowy outline of a rather tall individual. Was it the homeless guy? Considering the fact this person racked the slide, Ben thought this must be an amateur. Only a novice would rack the slide first, letting your intended victim, and everyone else in the general vicinity, know you're there. Ben wasn't too worried. He'd taken on much more intimidating opponents. A male voice cried out from the end of the alley, “stay there! Don't come any closer, or I'll blow your ass away!” Ben almost laughed out loud. Was that a hint of fear he detected in the man's voice? “As you wish” Ben replied. “Shall I drop to my knees as well?” “Just shut up and don't move!” shouted the man. Ben could tell it wouldn't take much to ward off this one. He may not need to use his gun after all. “I have money in my wallet, if that's what you want. I have seventy-eight dollars in cash. You may come retrieve it from my pocket, if you wish.” Now the man was advancing toward him. “I said shut the fuck up!” He placed heavy vocal emphasis on “fuck” and “up”.
Still standing practically motionless, hands raised up, Ben asked, “so, what is it that you want? Oh, I get it. This is like one of those dirty movies you have to watch in special theaters. Is this the scene where they cue the cheesy saxophone music, you point a gun to my head and then tell me I have to suck on your cock?” The man with the gun shook his head. “What the hell are you babbling on about? No! That's not what this is. You wanna fucking die, or something?” Ben snickered. He was getting to him. Not much longer now and he'd break him. “You know, you don't have to take me by force. Oh, unless that's how you like things, of course. I've met some real freaks in this alley. You just never know who might show up. You know who came by to see me just two nights ago? Mayor Allenwood. Can you believe that? He is one kinky bastard. He pays me two hundred dollars just to spit on my fingers and have me shove them up his...”
“Oh my God, you are so fucking stupid! Come on!” the man grabbed Ben around the arm and jerked him toward the blue metal door. Holding his shotgun in one hand and keeping the death grip on Ben with the other, the man nodded toward the door and said, “it's four short raps, then three slow ones, then four short ones again. Well, go on!” Ben was confused, but he followed the instructions. Within moments, a woman wearing a knee-length pink bathrobe and sponge rollers in her hair was opening the door. Blurry eyed and with a groggy voice she asked, “what the hell is he doing here?” The man shoved Ben through the doorway first, following in close behind him slamming the door shut. “He's supposed to be meeting his friend here in a few days. I knew if anyone could keep him safe until then, it would be you, Olivia.” The woman let out a long, exaggerated sigh and shook her head. Throwing her hands up she whined, “fine. Fine, that's just fine. I'll keep him here until his little get together on Tuesday morning, but then after that?” She pointed sharply at the door, “his ass is gone. Capisce?” The man shrugged his shoulders dismissively, “sure, O. Whatever you say.”
“I wasn't talking to you, moron.” The man quickly looked down at the floor, a wash of humiliation pink crossing his cheeks. She turned her icy gaze back to Ben. “You never came here, you don't know me, and you never come here again after Tuesday morning. Is that perfectly clear?” Ben cocked one eyebrow and replied, “crystal.” The man tucked his gun under his coat, turned to open the door to leave, but then spun on his heels and looked at Ben. “Hey? Fuzzy head? Next time someone's got you at gun point in a dark alley, don't try and play stupid mind games on them. It would be a real shame if someone called you on your little dick sucking bluff, wouldn't it?” A smirk turned up the corner of his lips and he disappeared into the alley way. Olivia slammed the door shut behind him. She turned to face Ben, studying him, up and down through her narrowed eyes. “Damn that Albert!” she spat on the floor. “Well, I'm going back to bed. Feel free to join me, or not. I don't give two shits what you do, so long as you lay low and then leave as soon as your meeting's over on Tuesday. Oh, and hand over that 9mm you've got in your pocket.”
Ben stammered in protest, “but, I don't have a 9...” Olivia held out her hand, palm up, interrupting him. “Cut the bullshit, Benjamin. You're printing. I'm not your type, so I know that bulge in your pants isn't you happy to see me. Now, hand it over. Please.” She offered up a condescending smile. Ben rolled his eyes, reached into his pants, and retrieved the pistol. He released the magazine, catching it in his free hand. He deposited the gun into Olivia's open hand. She chuckled, “I wasn't born yesterday, Ben. Bullets too, please.” Damnit! He hesitated a moment. Olivia made a pouting face. “Pretty please, with sugar on top?” Ben handed the magazine over as well. She shoved everything down into her robe pocket. “Thank you, good sir,”she said with an exaggerated mocking curtsy. She was really starting to piss Ben off at this point. If she wasn't careful he'd end up having to kill her for before Tuesday morning came.
Olivia pulled a chair into the center of the room. It was one of those blue plastic cafeteria chairs with the metal legs. In other words, a really uncomfortable one. She motioned toward it. “Cop a squat”. Ben could discern, from the tone of her voice, that it was more of a command than a suggestion. He sat down obediently. Olivia launched herself up onto the counter top, pulled a cigarette from her pocket, and lit it up. She took a few quick drags before looking at Ben and asking, “you got any siblings?” A pang of grief stabbed Ben in the gut. He shook his head, “no. I was an only child”. Olivia snorted. “Lucky son of a gun. Albert's my brother. He's a real asshole, but we watch out for each other. Who watches out for you, Benjamin Linus?”
“I watch out for myself,” he replied. He thought back to his childhood. Thought about when his dad, Roger, had brought him to the island so that he could work for the Dharma Initiative. His dad was a drunk and a ruthless, unforgiving man. He never missed an opportunity to remind Ben that he “killed” his mother. She had died just shortly after giving birth to him prematurely. His parents had been hiking that day. His dad helped deliver him in the woods. One would think such circumstances would forge a bond between father and son that no one could drive a wedge between. Ben thought wrong, which is why he felt little remorse when he killed his own father when he was just nineteen years old. The bastard had it coming. How many times had Ben run that line through his head since that day? Since he, Richard, and the Others had opened up the Tempest and rid the island of invaders?
Olivia ground her smoldering cigarette butt into an emerald colored glass ashtray that was sitting beside her. She hopped from the counter, strolled slowly over to where Ben was sitting. Olivia looked down at him, a sly grin spread across her full, naturally deep pink lips. “My, my, my. Tuesday is, what? Three days away? Aren't we going to have some fun?” Ben scowled at her, “are we?” Olivia tossed her head back and cackled, as if Ben had just told her the funniest joke. How incredibly droll! Ben thought to himself. Olivia hiked up her robe, revealing her thin, muscular thighs topped with a tiny triangle tuft of deep brown, curly hairs. Ben caught a gasp in his throat before it could escape. He swallowed hard. He wasn't falling for this. He hadn't been with a woman, sexually, in a very long time. He could certainly rebuff the advances of this hideous woman. Olivia went to straddle Ben's lap, but he quickly jumped up, and slid out from underneath her. Her footing faltered slightly, and she leaned forward to brace herself against the chair. If her demeanor had been chilly earlier, she could downright stare daggers into Ben now. Her upper lip curled upward in a furious sneer, eyes narrowing to slits. Tiny wrinkles spread between her eyebrows as she glowered at him.
“I didn't tell you to get up!” she snarled. “I don't recall needing your permission to do so,” he replied. This was a risky move, he realized. He did, after all, need to take refuge in this woman's house. Making her angry could result in her putting him out in the street, or worse. She could tell them he was there. That was worst case scenario, of course. He had to be very calculated in how this played out. He knew damn well he didn't want to sleep with this woman. He could barely tolerate being in the same room with her, but he couldn't outright reject her either. Doing so would most certainly end with him not being able to carry out his plan to get back to the island. Olivia's mouth had twisted into a terrifying smile. It was the sort of smile you weren't sure was a sign the person was calming down, or they were about to try and kill you.
“Ben,” she started, “you're going to be here for three days. I haven't had anything shoved into my fuckhole besides a cucumber in, oh, I don't know...six years now. I'm not asking you to love me. I'm not asking to cuddle afterward. All I know is that you're the first man, besides my idiot brother, who has been in my house in the middle of the night in a very, very long time and the throbbing in my pussy is so strong it hurts.” She sauntered up to Ben, grabbed his hand, and forced it to her opening. His fingertips instinctively flicked around in her wetness. As soon as his middle finger began to dip its way into her fleshy hole, he jerked his hand away as if he had touched the hot eye on a stove top. His mind was racing. There was no way in hell, even if she had been the last woman living on earth, that he was going to have sex with her. She was, to put it mildly, repulsive. It was no wonder she hadn't been with anyone in several years.
“Lick your fingers,” Olivia commanded huskily. Ben frowned, but complied. He had resolved within himself to only take this as far as necessary to keep from provoking Olivia's wrath. He reluctantly brought his damp fingers toward his lips. His nose crinkled as he caught a whiff of her musky aroused scent blended with old urine and sweat. Olivia gripped his wrist tightly, shoving his hand toward his face even closer, “I said lick them”.
“Tell you what,” Ben started. “Why don't you go to your bedroom, take off this robe, lay back on the bed and get ready for the pussy pounding of a lifetime.” Geez, just saying it made him want to wretch. In fact, he wasn't completely sure, but he thought he might have felt some bile rise to the back of his throat at that moment. Olivia smirked at him. “Do you think I'm retarded, or something? No, we're going to do this right here.” In one swift movement, Olivia untied the sash to her robe and shrugged the sleeves from her shoulders, sending it to the floor. Never one to overlook details, Ben couldn't help but notice the robe sounded incredibly light when it hit the hardwood floor. Where the hell did she hide his gun?
Ben had to give her some credit where credit was due. She had a stunning figure. She was trim, but had curves in all the right places. Her flesh was the color of peaches and cream and dotted here and there with chocolate colored freckles. Her breasts, round and firm, perched on her chest, nipples set perfectly in the middle. Delicate dark pink buds surrounded by nickel-sized deep tan colored areolae with bright blue veins mapping out from them, traveling the entire diameter of her breasts. They heaved, up and down, ever so slightly with her breathing. Her thin waistline tapered in the middle then flared outward in an hourglass shape to her supple hips. Her body was the complete opposite of how he had always fantasized Simone's would look. Damnit! Simone, again? Why couldn't he push that girl from his memory? Standing before him was a naked woman, juices trickling down her inner thighs, ready to have every dirty thing done to her Ben could imagine and Simone pops into his mind? It was just as well, though. This woman, despite her flawless body, disgusted Ben, but the image of Simone flashing through his brain caused a much needed response in his groin area.
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