FIC: Lost-1/?- Rated PG-13 (for the moment) for lang., brief mention of sex

[cheekyluv28.livejournal.com]

Title: Lost- 1/?
Author: Jen
Pairings: Monaboyd (eventually), Billy/ofc, liberal sprinkling of Losties throughout. (Possible other future pairings there, since I tend to slash anything that moves. *rolls eyes*)
Rating: PG13 at the moment, but knowing me, we'll get up to NC17 before too long. ; )
Summary: Billy's shown up at Dom's with a couple of surprise visitors, one welcome, one not so much...
Warnings: WIP, mentions of het, some angst, drunken cross-dressing.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The author does not know, and is in no way affiliated with the persons mentioned in this work. No disrespect is intended to the persons mentioned in this work. No money is being made from this in any way.
A/N: There is no excuse for the places my mind wanders, really. I don't even know what to call this...perhaps part angst, part ludicrous and pointless humor. In fact, parts of it are teetering on the edge of crack!fic. We'll get to the Dom/Billy, promise, but this first part is mostly Dom & Jorge Garcia. (Not like that you naughty-minded things, you. *grins*)
A/N 2: The ofc in this story was originally Ali...up until a few moments ago, when I re-read what I'd written and realized how horrid I was being. I wasn't at all comfortable with bashing a real person, even in fiction, so I switched things around a bit. I realize this takes away a bit of the 'realness' of the story, (what little it had in the first place) but I felt it was necessary, to hold to my own scruples.





Passion or coincidence
once prompted you to say
pride will tear us both apart
Well now pride's gone out the window
cross the rooftops
run away
Left me in the vaccuum of my heart
What is happening to me?
crazy some will say
where is my friend when I need you most...
gone away

~Ordinary World
Duran Duran







"Can you tell me just how the bloody hell I got talked into this again?" Dom gazed glumly into the big, brown eyes staring back at him with unconcealed rapture.

There was no answer, but the warm body lying atop his scooted up a few inches more, quivering in excitement.

"We really have to stop meeting like this, y' know. What would daddy say?" A soft whimpering permeated the room and warm breath washed over Dom's neck, followed immediately by a wet, nuzzling nose.

"You're just not my type, love, really. Though you do have the most gorgeous eyes." That did it- Dom was suddenly being bathed from forehead to chin with slobber, long, pink tongue lapping wildly at his face.

"There goes another Sudafed for Uncle Dommie. Ta muchly, Griffin.", he said dryly, sitting up on the couch, lifting the spaniel off of his chest and gently setting him on the floor where he sat staring up at Dom in frank admiration.

The dog had fallen madly, hopelessly in love with Dom three seconds after their first meeting.

Now if only Billy would take a clue from his pet.

Dom had been ecstatic at the news that Billy was coming to Hawaii for a visit. The ecstasy had lasted until Dom had opened his door yesterday to find Billy standing on his step, toting one dog on a leash and holding another by the hand. Alright...so that wasn't a very charitable thought.

Then again, Dom wasn't in a particularly charitable mood.

Over the last twenty four hours, in addition to having pet-dander shed liberally over every inch of his house, he'd had to look on as Bridget cuddled up to Billy, laughed with Billy, shared secrets with Billy.

Stole away another little piece of Billy.

Allergies Dom could live with. It was his broken heart that was giving him the real trouble.

At this very moment, Dom and Billy should've been out in the surf, giggling like lunatics, falling seamlessly back into their old, familiar rhythm. But instead, Billy and Bridget had gone traipsing off together, hand in hand, leaving Dom stuck at home to mind the bloody dog.

Sighing, he looked down at Griffin. The spaniel's eyes lit up happily at the attention and his tail began thumping rapidly on the floor.

Jealousy didn't suit Dom. In fact, he hated the mere idea of it, hated the petty, childish way he was feeling. Over the years he'd shared Billy up countless ways. How many nights had a snookered Elijah snuggled warmly into Billy's lap, nuzzling against him? How many times had Orli flirted shamelessly with Billy, Billy flirting right back? How many kisses had Dom observed without rancor? Shite..Viggo's lips, in particular, had always seemed to have a magnetic attraction to parts of Billy's anatomy. And none of it had ever bothered Dom in the least. He'd always watched contentedly, caught somewhere between amusement and lust. Jealously had never been a factor. But somehow this thing with Bridget was different. For the first time, Dom felt truly threatened. He'd always thought that not even death would be able to seperate Dom-n-Billy.

He'd never in his wildest dreams imagined it was a pair of tits he had to watch out for.

"I'm acting a right wanker, aren't I?", he asked the dog, who promptly barked in agreement. "Thought so." Dom sighed again, rising from the sofa, intent on finding something to do to draw him out of his funk. "C'mon, mate. When all else fails, we get shit-faced." Griffin jumped up eagerly and padded after him to the kitchen.

Dom sat morosely at the kitchen table, swigging from a bottle of tequila, sharing a package of Nutter-Butters with Griffin.

After a few good drinks, his mind started wandering back to the night before. He'd been in bed, on the verge of sleep, when the noises had begun. The walls of his house were pitifully thin, and he'd had no trouble hearing every nuance of Billy and Bridget's lovemaking. When he could stand no more, he'd fled to the living room, taking refuge on the sofa with the dog. He'd finally fallen asleep sometime around dawn, arms wrapped tightly around Griffin, tears still drying on his cheeks.

"You're the nicest thing I've woken up to since Bills, y' know?" Dom told Griffin softly now, clumsily kneeling down on the kitchen floor to take his furry head in his hands, kissing him soundly on the nose.

Almost in spite of himself, Dom had fallen head over heels for the spaniel. Griffin listened to his every word without complaint or interruption, kept his secrets with no fear of reprisal, gave out cuddles and love unconditionally. Besides, Billy loved the dog, and the dog was part of Billy, therefore Dom had no choice but to love him too.

But the same could not be said about Bridget.

If Dom were to be totally honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't being fair to her. Far from being the cold-hearted, best-mate-stealing wench that Dom had made her out to be in his mind, she was sweet and kind and good. A bit nagging, yes, far too over-protective, certainly...but she was also a woman, so those things were to be expected as a matter of course. She would make a cheerful, loving mate for some lucky bloke.

But that bloke was not Billy.

Dom had known within three seconds of seeing them together that they weren't right for each other. He knew Billy's heart, Billy's mind, as well or better than he knew his own. Dom would never begrudge Billy happiness. If he had looked into Billy's eyes and seen joy and contentment, he would have backed off and wished he and his new girlfriend well, even if he killed part of himself in doing it. Billy's happiness meant far more to Dom than his own. But Billy wasn't happy. Shite...Billy wasn't even Billy anymore.

Something had fundamentally changed within him. His playful, open nature seemed somehow forced. His and Dom's easy, carefree bond now seemed to have something wedged between it, cutting off the flow. The gleeful, impish spark- the spark that Dom had long ago fallen so in love with- had gone out of Billy's eyes. Now there was a sort of resigned mediocracy. Dom supposed that some people would call that growing up, but to Dom's way of thinking it was a kind of death.

And, right or wrong, Dom couldn't help but blame Bridget.

"Who knew Uncle Dommie could be such a vindictive cunt, eh?", he asked Griffin, who was nosing into the now-empty cookie package with a forlorn look in his eyes. "Oi...enough of this shite.", Dom said, shaking himself out of his depressing thoughts. "Let's go outside. Sound good?"

Griffin's ears perked up and he cocked his head, barking once in agreement.

"Alright, then, c'mon, love." Dom tried to stand and rapidly discovered that while he'd been lost in his head, he'd somehow gone from mildly tipsy to all-out trolleyed. He'd apparently been drinking as much as he'd been thinking, because the bottle in front of him was now half-empty. He fell back into the chair with a small grunt. "Change of plans, Griff...How 'bout you go out and I stay in? Uncle Dommie doesn't need t' take a header into th' hibiscus."

Dom managed to work up enough equilibrium to open the sliding door off the lanai and let Griffin out into the fenced backyard. The dog sniffed frantically along the grass, nose to the ground, moving in aimless, weaving little loops, leaving Dom to wonder if he'd perhaps dipped into the tequila when he'd not been looking. But then Griffin spotted something and took off like a shot across the yard, barking ecstatically. Dom watched as a bird exploded up from the grass in front of the oncoming dervish and took refuge on a palm frond. Griffin, after a few fruitless moments of trying to scale the tree, furiously went to work on the lawn, dirt and flowers flying around him in a whirlwind. "Now we know why mummy didn't want you to have sweets.", Dom muttered dryly, shaking his head and laughing a little.

Figuring the dog was good to go for awhile, Dom rose carefully and left the kitchen, intent on walking off some of the drink. He meandered through the living room, turning on the stereo, then made his way down the hall, listing a little. He found himself in the doorway to the spare bedroom. The room Billy and Bridget were using for the duration of their stay.

Dom poked his head in, raising an eyebrow at what he spotted laid out neatly on the bed. If he was seeing what he thought he was seeing, he could chalk up another mark against Bridget- she obviously had the fashion sense of a rhesus monkey. Jesus...Billy'd be better off shagging Bloom.

Dom headed in to investigate further. His eyes had not been playing tricks on him; there was a shoddy-looking dress lying on the duvet. It was a horrid puce color, with wee orange paisley things scattered here and there. Dom gaped at the outfit, nose scrunching up in distaste. He believed it was what hippies used to call a 'granny dress'. Hadn't these things died out somewhere around 1972? He picked it up, fingering the material in disgust, then almost absently slipped it over his head, wriggling his arms into the sleeves, careful not to catch the fabric on his wristcuffs.

"Christ...that's bloody awful. What're you thinking, Boyd?", he muttered, looking down at his new attire. After a moment's consideration, he shoved his bare feet into the shoes sitting on the floor directly under where the dress had lain, obviously meant to go with the outfit. He pranced around a little in front of the full-length mirror, wincing at how glaringly the red velvet high-heels went with the dress. He poked around the bed a bit more, coming up with a string of oversized wooden beads which immediately went around his neck. Next came a floppy straw sunhat, adorned with sad-looking pink plastic daisies.

"God in heaven, that's hideous!", he exclaimed to his reflection. He put a little wiggle into his hips and flapped his wrists a bit, almost unconsciously adopting Bridget's high-pitched voice. "Billy Boyd, get out o' the sun this instant, before y' burn!", he mocked into the mirror. "Billy, don't y' even think about pouring another glass of that whiskey! Bill-eee, leave off that silly game and come t' bed...y' need your rest!" Dom sashayed rapidly across the room, really getting worked up, high heels leaving marks in the carpet. He might not be playing fair as far as Bridget's treatment of Billy was concerned, but as for the ludicrous way she talked to the dog....Christ. That he wasn't imagining. Even Billy had looked ready to strangle her at some of the absurdities that popped out of her mouth whenever she addressed Griffin.

Dom ponced back and forth, wiggling his ass, cooing in falsetto to a non-existant pet. "That's my good wittle snookum-wookums...time for walkies! Does hims like that kibble? Yes hims does! Come give Mummy a cuddle, Poopsie. Mummy needs her big-boy smoochies!"

"Uh..." A strangled noise suddenly came from behind Dom, and he glanced over his shoulder to see an open-mouthed Jorge standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

Dom, who was used to his friend popping in at all hours of the day and night, never missed a beat. "Would you shag this, mate?", he asked, twirling around so the skirt flared out a little.

"Ooo-kay. I'll just be going now. Sorry to, uh...interrupt.", Jorge muttered, holding out his hands and backing slowly out the door.

"No, seriously, Jorge- does this turn you on, even the teeniest bit?", Dom asked, looking at him almost pleadingly.

Jorge stopped and thought for a moment. "Shit...I'm easy. Put on some perfume and a touch of lipstick, and I'm all over it, man."

"Careful...I might just take you up on it.", Dom said morosely, settling down on the bed, elbows propped on his knees, face in hands.

"Your lady-like posture sucks, though, dude.", Jorge observed, sitting next to Dom. "So...what's up?", he asked comfortably, already mostly over his shock. Compared to the antics which regularly took place amongst the cast, Dom suddenly going transvestite was way down there on the weirdness scale.

"Billy got here yesterday.", Dom muttered to the floor.

"But, hey...you've been lookin' forward to his visit forever! This is good, right?"

"Would be, except he brought along his dog. And his girlfriend."

"Oh.", Jorge said brightly, then as he realized the enormity of the problem, "Oh...crap."

"Yeah. Exactly.", Dom agreed glumly.

"Those her, uh, clothes you're wearing?", Jorge asked, eyeing the dress, making a face at the mix of purple and orange.

"Yep."

"She happen to be colorblind?"

"That's the least of her troubles."

"I kinda figured. Wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly.", Dom sighed.

"Just as well. I suck at that Dr. Phil shit." Jorge paused and listened for a moment. "So...would that be the dog I hear barking? Or did you tie up the girlfriend in the backyard?"

"Shite...it's Griffin. I need to check on him. He's been out there awhile."

Dom made as if to rise, but Jorge beat him to it, pressing Dom back to the bed by the shoulders. "Maybe you better let me, man. Wouldn't want you to get a run in your hose."

Dom smacked at him but made no effort to remove Bridget's clothing before following him into the kitchen. The high heels were surprisingly comfortable. He opened the sliding door, popping his sun-hatted head out a bit. "Alright out there?", he called to Griffin, who was spinning madly in circles, yipping as he snapped wildly at his own tail. "What in bloody fuck is he doing?", Dom asked Jorge, raising an eyebrow. "He's gone off his head!"

"Naw, he's just keepin' busy.", Jorge said, poking his shaggy head out alongside Dom's. "Dogs love bein' outside. He needs somethin' to play with out there, is all."

"Not a problem, mate.", Dom said brightly, then bent down and removed his left heel, frisbeeing the shoe out onto the lawn. "Griffin, look! Uncle Dommie got you a new chewtoy! Fetch, boy!" Griffin saw it coming and barked joyously, taking after it and tackling it to the ground, chomping contentedly. Dom grinned widely as he watched bits of red velvet flying about the grass. As petty as it was, he'd never taken so much pleasure in something in his life.

"That was so wrong.", Jorge said, giggling. "You're one bad bitch, Monaghan."

"Don't you forget it." Dom winked, hobbling one-heeled over to the table to take another swig out of the tequila bottle before handing it to Jorge.

"You drink all this, Dom?" Jorge looked at the tequila in amazement.

"Yep.", Dom grinned.

"That would explain a few things." Jorge laughed before taking a long pull on the bottle. "So, when are they due back? Billy and...what's her name?"

"Bridget. And I don't know when they'll be back. 'm only th' bloody dog-minder, after all.", Dom spat with something like contempt, then was immediately disgusted with himself at the whining sound of his own voice.

Jorge chose to ignore the bite to Dom's words- he could plainly see the hurt hiding behind it. "I only mention it 'cause...do you really want them to come in and find you playing dress-up, dude?"

Unbelievably, in the span of the last few moments, Dom had somehow managed to forget that he was wearing women's clothing. He looked down at himself and barked out a laugh. "Christ, no. I'd better put it back where I found it. Billy'd never let me hear the end of it."

"Who says I will?", Jorge teased, grinning. "Holloway'd get off on this shit for a year.", he laughed loudly, taking another swig of the tequila.

Dom playfully shook his fist in front of Jorge's face. "You won't say a bloody word, Garcia. Y' know why? 'cause I'll tell all about you getting trolleyed on Jack Daniels th' other night, climbing up on my dining room table, and Humpty-Dancing to House of Pain's 'Jump Around'."

"Ya know I'm sexy, babe. Ya know ya want me.", Jorge grinned, then, "Never fuckin' happened, dude."

"Did so happen, y' wanker...I'm still having fucking nightmares! I wake up in a cold sodding sweat, 'If your girl steps up, I'm smacking the ho' ringing in m' ears! Scariest goddamn thing I've ever witnessed, mate...bloody wonder 'm not in the loony bin!"

Jorge was cackling madly now. "Wonder what I'll do on Cuervo?", he snorted, holding up the bottle, then taking another drink. "C'mon, man. Let's go turn you back into a male." He winked and started out of the kitchen.

"Think Griffin'll be okay out there?", Dom asked, stopping to peer out at the dog, who was proudly trotting around the grass, the sole of Bridget's shoe flapping from his mouth.

"Sure, man, he should be good.", Jorge said, then reconsidered and knelt down, slipping the remaining shoe off of Dom's foot. Two seconds later the heel was flying out into the yard to land beside its mate. "Just in case he gets bored.", Jorge grinned.

They crossed back through the living room, Jorge pausing a moment to listen to the song on the stereo, Pink Floyd's 'Comfortably Numb'. "Love the Floyd, man, but they're playin' the wrong tune. What we need is some 'Young Lust'.", he smirked, then promptly began singing:

Will some cold woman in this desert land
Make me feel like a real man?
Take this rock and roll refugee
Oh, baby, set me free.
Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.
Ooooh, I need a dirty girl....

He gave Dom's dress-clad ass a playful pinch as he bolted past him down the hallway, the bottle of tequila held high, giggling maniacally.

"Sod off, Garcia!", Dom laughed, taking after him. The chase led him back to the spare bedroom, where he found Jorge already comfortably seated on the bed, working on the alcohol. Dom shook his head and took off Bridget's necklace and the god-awful daisy-dappled sunhat, setting them down on the armoire. Before he could remove the dress, however, his attention was caught by a familiar flash of green poking out of a suitcase.

He went over and plucked it out, fingers brushing tenderly over the fabric. Billy's shirt, the one Dom had given him a couple years back, the one that brought out the green in his eyes so brilliantly, so beautifully... Dom held the material up to his face, breathing deeply, his eyes misting over at the well-known, much-loved scent of Billy.

"Oh, man...did you just sniff his shirt?" Jorge's awed voice brought Dom out of his reverie.

"Yeah. 'm turning into a sodding bird.", Dom sighed glumly, flopping onto Billy's side of the bed, burying his face into the pillow. "I miss him, Jorge. I miss him so fucking much.", he whispered, alarmed and a bit mortified to find himself on the verge of tears.

"Shit, Dom...I know.", Jorge replied softly, turning on the bed, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his friend's back. "We all know. What I'm wondering is...why the hell doesn't Billy know?"

"What d' you mean?", Dom asked, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Dude, you've loved him for, like, six years. From the moment you met him, right?", Jorge asked, stretching out on the bed beside Dom and getting comfortable, setting the liqour bottle on the floor.

Dom turned his head a bit to look at Jorge. "No. 'twasn't the moment I met him, was a little later that day, actually. We were sitting around talking, about the film, and the whole enormity of the thing dawned on us suddenly, we realized finally what we'd gotten ourselves into. I just froze, couldn't even talk. He saw how fucking terrified I was and gave me this smile, just smiled at me and made everything okay. I could see th' fear in his eyes, too, but he masked it, was trying so bloody hard to be brave, brave for me, y' know? That's when I fell in love with him. And I've never fallen out- never will."

Jorge rolled his eyes a little, patting Dom's back again. "Okay...six years, give or take fifteen minutes. My point is, how do you love somebody that long without, you know, um...mentioning it to him?"

"I've not mentioned it to him because I love him."

"Whoa...okay, better run that one by me again, man, lost me there."

"I'm too fucking scared of breaking that bond between us, of breaking us. If I tell him, and it goes sour, I'll lose my best friend in the world, wind up with nothing of him at all. Before, it wasn't so hard...'twas enough to pretend there was more to it, could always tell m'self 'maybe someday', because I knew he'd always be there, y' know? 'twas always alright."

"But it's not alright anymore.", Jorge said softly. "'cause now you're afraid you're losing him. All of him."

"Yeah.", Dom agreed soberly, then promptly burst into tears, chest heaving with helpless sobs.

Jorge looked almost comically startled for a moment, then instinct took over and he gathered Dom into his arms, holding on tight. "It's okay, man. Gonna be okay." Dom shook with the force of the sobs in Jorge's embrace and he felt his own eyes misting over a little. "We'll fix it...somehow. Promise.", he tried to soothe Dom best he could. "Whatever happens, I'll be there for ya. 'cause I...care about ya, ya know, Dom?", Jorge whispered, voice rough now with emotion.

After a few more moments, Dom's tears subsided. He realized he was half-laying atop Jorge, snuggled against him, clutching onto him like a life-preserver. Jorge must be positively mortified. But he looked up into his friend's face and saw no mortification; only calm understanding and kindness. "'m sorry.", Dom mumbled, wiping at his eyes and scootching back a bit to his own side of the bed, giving Jorge some space. "Don't know what th' Christ that was all about."

Jorge smiled, then leaned over and brushed back Dom's bangs, kissing him gently on the forehead before snagging the tequila bottle from the side of the bed and taking another drink. "It's cool, man. Probably just P.M.S."

"Shut it, y' enormous git.", Dom laughed, then sat up a little, wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks. "How 'bout letting me kick your arse at a video game, yeah?"

"Sounds good. Could you, you know...maybe ditch the dress first, though? Major concentration killer, dude."

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************

Two hours later, games had been played, more alcohol had been had, and the dog had been brought inside to join the party. Time had come for Dom to feed his menagerie, and he and Jorge had gone drunkenly from tank to tank, doling out dinner. Dom had taken Barney the gecko out of his enclosure, thinking Griffin might enjoy a playmate. Griffin took one look at the creature sitting on Uncle Dommie's palm, let out a high-pitched yelp, scooted backwards at lightning speed, and piddled on the rug, proving once and for all to Dom that he was undeniably Billy Boyd's pet.

While Dom was on his knees scrubbing up the mess and Jorge was attempting to dislodge himself from the computer desk beneath which he'd become hopelessly wedged while trying to coax Griffin out of hiding, Billy breezed into the house with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"I asked Bridget t' marry me, Dommie. She said yes."

It was Dom's turn to piddle on the rug.




tbc...