These are from my Valentine's Day post in which I asked for prompts and wrote ficlets for people. The idea was to write one sentence for each, but I didn't really hit that, except in one case. Posting them all, the good and the not-so-good.
Ficlet 1: Jack/James
Prompt: Jack/James, they go fishing--trying to leave, but the truck won't start so they have to stay overnight.
James swore and slammed down the truck's hood. "'s no good. We need a jump."
Jack sighed and looked around the desolate lake shore. There was no one else in sight. "Guess we'll have to hike back to the main road."
"Not tonight we won't," James said, pointing toward the sun, starting to dip below the horizon. "Shoulda brought those blankets after all. We're gonna have to spend the night here."
He shivered a little and Jack slipped behind him, his hand edging up under his shirt. "Cold? Be glad to give you that jump you need."
Ficlet: 2 Jack/James [This is my favorite one.] ;-D
Prompt: Jack/James at James house, and the heat's out.
"Fuck it's cold," Jack swore, burrowing back under the blankets, wondering how he'd managed to sleep with frost practically forming in his hair. "How did it get so goddamned cold inside?"
"'s winter," James muttered, still half-asleep. "Furnace is on the fritz. Cheapass building. That's how."
"Damn," Jack shivered, pressing his body against James, trying to absorb some of his warmth. "How do you keep from freezing to death?"
"Well, I find the hottest fuck in town, get him in my bed..." James rolled over, facing Jack sleepily now. He could just make out the grin on his face under the darkness of the blanket.
"I'll bet," Jack laughed. "What did you do before me?"
"There is no before you," James sighed, finding his mouth in the darkness, the heat of him spreading through Jack like always, until he couldn't remember ever being cold.
Ficlet 3: Jack/James
Prompt: Jack/James playing pool (or darts, your choice)
Jack leaned back against the wall, taking another sip of beer as he watched James bend low to take the next shot, James's leather jacket skimming over skin-tight, well-worn jeans. James, that pool shark, was killing him, but Jack didn't mind. He had the best view in town. He took another swallow and waited for his turn.
Ficlet 4: Jack/Sawyer
Prompt: Jack's got a cold and Sawyer's taking care of him and/or cheering him up?
"Oughta've shaved you first," Sawyer grumbled as he rubbed the crushed eucalyptus leaves into Jack's chest. "You're gonna be picking these leaves out for a week. Goddamn hairiest man I ever saw."
Jack laughed, which set off another coughing fit. "Well, I expect you'll help me with that too, then."
"What am I, your nurse?" Sawyer scowled.
Jack leaned back, grinning.
"You are enjoying this way too much, you lazy bastard."
Jack trumped him with another coughing fit. Sawyer sighed, tipping the water bottle up to his lips. "Might wanna pace yourself, doc. You only got the two lungs, ya know."
Ficlet 5: Jack/Sawyer
Prompt: Jack/Sawyer. Water.
Jack couldn't look away as Sawyer drank the bottle in one go, Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each swallow, water trickling down his chin, and over his throat, until it was just glistening moisture on his bare chest.
"Do you know what you're doing to me?" he whispered as he passed by, so low no one else could hear.
Sawyer smiled, that infuriating cocksure grin that always set a slow fuse burning in Jack, and slowly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tossed the empty bottle to Jack. "Why dontcha fill 'er up, doc?"
Jack tucked the bottle into his backpack, stifling the urge to return Sawyer's smile. "You want it back, you come get it." And he walked off, whistling.
Ficlet 6: Extremely cheesy!fic
Prompt: Jack/Sawyer and the phrase: "It's not what it looks like".
Jack froze, then hastily pushed Sawyer off of him. "Uh, it's not what it looks like," he said to Sayid, who stood, arms crossed, that little knowing smirk on his face.
"Of course not." Sayid said, practically giggling. "You both just happened to fall asleep in the same bunk. Naked."
"You got it, Pancho," Sawyer said with a lazy grin, stretching so that his whole body was on display. "Now unless you want to join us --"
"Sawyer!" Jack tried unsuccessfully to cover Sawyer's mouth with his hand.
"-- Unless you want to join us, how 'bout you go back to button-pushing duty?"
"Of course." Sayid nodded and turned to go. "I see you are busy enough pushing each other's buttons."
[ba dum dum]
Prompt: Sawyer and... a Han Solo action figure.
"I'm out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur." Sawyer spoke low, his attention focused on the plastic figure he had propped up in the sand. He jumped when someone said his name.
"What are you doing with that toy?" Walt asked, face wrinkled with something like scorn.
"Toy? TOY?" Sawyer sneered, brandishing the object in question in his face. "This, short stuff, is an original issue Han Solo action figure. We get back to the real world, this'll be worth a pretty penny."
"So why were you playing with it?"
"Was not." Sawyer sniffed, putting Han in his pocket. "It's your imagination, kid," he muttered under his breath as he strode up the beach.
Ficlet 8: Crack!fic
Prompt: Sawyer and a bunny
Sawyer had already been beset by a bigass boar with a grudge, a mysterious black stallion and lord knows what else since being stranded on this damned island, so he was only mildly surprised to see a small, white bunny poking its head into his tent, nose twiching busily. "Well, aren't you gonna say, 'What's up, doc?' he asked, reaching as quietly as he could for the shotgun. He wouldn't mind something besides fish and boar, for once.
The rabbit hopped closer, unleashed a vicious, unearthly growl and sprang for Sawyer's throat, teeth bared. He fought it off, yelling and cursing, and then he realized he was swatting at thin air. Pulse racing, he searched the tent for any trace of rabbit fur. He came across the waterlogged copy of Watership Down instead.
"Damn book," he swore, tossing it across the tent. "Last time I make that my bedtime reading."
And the only one I was able to do in one sentence:
Prompt: Sawyer and a psychotherapist.
The sandy-haired boy stared stubbornly at his own hands, refusing to look up, or speak; he'd already learned that he could break another person with silence.