|HURLEY'S TREASURE -- RATED PG
||[Dec. 7th, 2005|09:32 pm]
TITLE: Hurley's Treasure
WORD COUNT: 465
WARNINGS/NOTES: Mild strong language. Hurley's found something.
Hurley has found the mother lode. It is, as far as he is concerned, a treasure beyond all estimation, and when he first sees it, it's all he can do to keep himself from falling to his knees and weeping right there on the spot. He looks around, makes sure the coast is clear, and then proceeds to stuff his clothes. His shorts, his button-down overshirt. Even his underwear. He takes off his socks and fills them, stuffing his feet back into his shoes. By the time he's finished, he hopes that he doesn't run into anyone: the way he's bulging all over is more than a little incriminating, and he'd be hard-pressed to explain his pilferage.
But if Kate can take a bottle of shampoo whenever she wants, then dammit, why can't he take a little something for himself? And this is the good stuff, too. High quality. None of that low-grade shit. This will last him a long time.
Fortunately, the alarm begins to sound just as he leaves the storage room, so whoever is in the bunker is temporarily distracted. He manages to sneak out the door unseen. From there, it's only a short walk to the tree where his private stash is located.
Reaching inside the tree, he pulls out a large bag and begins to empty the treasure into it. He keeps two pieces of the treasure out, slipping them back into one pocket; he removes one other item from the bag, and makes his way back to his shelter. Once there, he settles himself down onto his sleeping bag, crossing his legs Indian-style. From his pocket, he pulls a flat, rectangular object, from which is dangling a pair of circular black items attached to a long cord. He slips the circular items into his ears, then turns the flat, rectangular object upside down. He opens a small hatch on the bottom of the object, and then fishes into his pocket and pulls out his two pieces of treasure. He gazes at them for a long time, savoring the moment, and reading with joy the letters painted in white on them: "AA".
He kisses the batteries and slides them into the battery case on the mp3 player. Then, turning it over, he presses a couple of buttons.
The music blares out of the earphones, filling his head with a sound he never thought he'd hear again.
Give me the beat boys, that freed my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll
And drift away...
With the first contented sigh he's breathed since landing on this God-forsaken island, he stretches his legs out and lays back, supporting himself on his elbows and closing his eyes as the music washes over him, drowning out the rest of the world.
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