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Post by Preston Saint on Apr 18, 2007 11:53:47 GMT -5
AMELIA
"Amelia, hello!"
She smiled and hugged Juliet lightly. After all, she'd had a rough time lately. "Hello, Juliet."
"And I see you've managed to convince the doctor to join us?"
"Yes, I convinced Preston to put down his books for just long enough to openly discuss one." she smiled, looking from Juliet to the doctor.
PRESTON
She smiled at Juliet for a few seconds, and then realized he should probably say something. "Oh, hi, yeah, hi, Juliet." he said, awkwardly trying to shake her hand. "And, uh, I haven't read the book, but I saw the first half of the movie. It was really good, it was."
"Hey Preston! I did do the step-workout you told me about, the one that would improve my butt problem ... erm ... back problem! Never mind!"
"Oh, good. Good, that should work." he nodded.
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Post by Preston Saint on Apr 18, 2007 11:11:44 GMT -5
Preston Saint was deeply worried. There was no telling how this would go. For example, what if they didn't like him? A new-comer to their little book club? Amelia had invited him along, true, but what if they still viewed him as a stranger, alien to them?
Just about everyone knew his name. After all, he was the physician, and a very young one at that. He gave each and every member of their community a check-up, and also a thorough physical exam. Maybe that's why they didn't like him. He was a doctor, and not one with a terribly good bed-side manner either.
Then, perhaps it was a simple case of all his education and home problems preventing him from being able to interact well.
"Preston, you looked worried. Please don't, dear. This will be absolutely fine. You're a nice boy, but people just see you as 'the doctor' and that's it." explained Amelia as she walked with him up the steps of Juliet's house. Juliet, the blonde Goddess. Of course, he barely spoke to her. He barely spoke to anyone except for a selection of three friends. Amelia, Ben, and Alex. And he was pretty certain Ben didn't like him. It didn't matter, though, Preston liked Ben well enough.
"I'm not a socially awkward teenager, Amelia, I know how to act around people, I just....prefer my privacy most of the time." The truth was, on the island, privacy was easy to get. That's what Preston thought he wanted. Of course, by this point, he'd learned to be lonely.
"Oh, I know you do, Preston. But you don't need to think about yourself all the time, all right?" Amelia said with a slow smile. She glanced down wards."Oh, Preston. Shoelaces."
He immediately bent down as Amelia knocked on the door, tying his laces tightly. Maybe Amelia was right. Perhaps it was some unintentional selfishness that alienated everyone else.
AMELIA
She glanced down at Preston as she waited for Juliet to answer. Forgetful boy. Smart, but detached. Something she intended to help him with.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 16:25:55 GMT -5
He allowed himself a brief, amused smile as she charged at him with a laddle, and then got annoyed at the remnants of his soup smeared down his perfectly good white t-shirt. He looked down at it, and then up at her in time to see her crumple to the floor. He shook his head.
He leant down, and picked her up with ease, carrying her to the bedroom. He laid her gently onto his bed, brushing some hair out of her face. He then made sure she wasn't injured from the fall, and when she appeared all right, he rose to leave. Then, he felt compelled to turn back. He reached out, briefly grabbed her right boob, and then headed out of his bedroom.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 16:09:20 GMT -5
"Ms Harkness, if you don't calm yourself, does sedatives will work faster and you'll just drop. You might hurt yourself." he said in a slow voice, not lowering his hands. "So it's really in your best interests to sit down."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 16:03:17 GMT -5
He grew a little concerned at how she disrupted his feng shui, and then advanced towards her, his arms out to prevent her from falling over. "Relax, don't get yourself worked up. Everything's fine." He briefly considered grabbing her boobs on the off chance she wouldn't remember later on, but then decided she was panicked enough.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 15:50:56 GMT -5
"You really did put something in the tea?"
"You're very astute." he said, impressed. "Nothing bad. Just something to calm you down a little."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 15:32:13 GMT -5
He extended an arm to steady her, holding her gently. "Careful. Sure you don't want to lie down?" he asked firmly.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 13:34:05 GMT -5
"but I'd really like to use your communication outpost if I could. It won't take more than a couple of minutes..."
He rose. "It's not that simple. It's...very, very complicated. I'm sorry, you'll have to wait."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 13:21:54 GMT -5
He studied her. The drugs were taking their effect. "Are you feeling all right? Do you want to lie down?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 13:05:13 GMT -5
"Oh I can see i'm going to have to watch myself around you Mr. Saint. You're quite the quick witted man aren't you!"
"I wish that were true. Unfortunately I don't possess the...English wit." he smiled.
"So who's your boss then? If you don't mind me asking?"
"That would be Ben." he explained. "Benjamin Linus, he's our unofficial leader. You'll probably be meeting him very soon. He's a pretty nice guy."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 12:47:09 GMT -5
"You make a very good cup of tea Mr. Saint. It's sweeter than I'm used to, what's your secret?"
He smiled as he watched her drink the tea, finding it oddly sexy. Then again, he found the fact that she was all dirty quite sexy, so it was probably only him. "Secret? Oh, it's...drugs."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 12:22:36 GMT -5
"No, Harkness was my father's name. It's definately still Ms."
"Oh, OK." he said simply, walking in the kitchen and starting to brew a pot of tea. He also readied his soup, pouring it into a bowl and placing the soup and tea on a tray, along with some filtered water in case it was all a little too hot for her. And then, he subtly dropped a mild sedative into her tea. Nothing too strong. Just to make her more complacent.
A moment later, he entered the living room with a tray of soup, tea, water and an Apollo chocolate bar. He smiled, laying down the tray for her. "There. My friends should be back soon, so hopefully you'll be on a rescue chopper by this afternoon."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 10:52:09 GMT -5
"If you're the only doctor on this island....why is it you didn't volunteer to go help if you thought there might be survivors?"
He paused for a second. That was a good question. He reached up, starting to dab a cut on her face. "Well, I couldn't leave my soup." he joked, and stood. "Honestly, we didn't think there really would be survivors. The surgeon went, and I loaned them one of my kits. Besides, the boss told me to stay, and what he says pretty much goes."
He turned, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll get you your tea, Ms Harkness. I'm getting that right, am I? It isn't Mrs Harkness?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 7:04:23 GMT -5
"Your too kind, really."
"It's no problem, Ms Harkness. If you need anything at all, I'll be happy to help you." he said with a kind smile.
"So, Mr. Saint. How is it you came to be living on this island? It's not the kind of thing one would expect after all."
"Oh, I just...like the quiet, really." he said calmly, applying antiseptic to her numerous cuts and scrapes. "And I suppose it's almost an adventure, something unique, different. Not many people can say they have the life that I have."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 20, 2007 5:23:05 GMT -5
"Would you mind? They're not too bad, I think just some antiseptic and a few bandages will surfice."
"Of course. I'll be back in a moment." he said, standing and exiting to find his spare first aid kit. It wasn't every day a beautiful woman dropped out of the sky. Sadly, he realized he wasn't about to woo her with candle-lit dinners and roses. Well, maybe after time. If she joined them, which she would, because there really was no alternative.
He silently locked the windows and doors he moved past. He briefly checked on his soup, and then returned with the first aid kit. He snapped it open. "After I'm done here, would you like some soup, or coffee? Or anything else to eat? I was just in the middle of making something." he said, and then instructed, "Hold out your arm please."
"Oh, not coffee, you're English, so...you like tea, right?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 18, 2007 17:51:20 GMT -5
"Who exactly is we? How many people live here? And where exactly is here?"
"Like I said, we're...sort of a commune. It sounds weird, I know." he admitted. "And we're quite close to Fiji, with a population of...say, about fifty. Most of us are searching for crash survivors. It's quite impressive you managed to reach us." He leaned forward. "Are you sure you don't want me to take a look at those wounds?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 18, 2007 17:25:38 GMT -5
"Perhaps even the Cook Islands, though I think we'd have to have been wildly off course to have crashed there. As far as I'm aware we hadn't had any reason to make a detour."
"Well, Ms Harkness...this is the only village on this island. The rest of the island is full of dangerous wildlife, we stay well within our boundaries. I'm not certain how your plane came to be here, but this island is...well, it's sort of a little secret." He sat down on his couch, spreading his arms. "We're just...here alone. I'm the resident doctor. We're the first establishment of what could eventually become a thriving community. For now...we just have the basics."
He studied her sympathetically. "I'm afraid there's...not really any communication for now. We're living very much in isolation. But don't worry, we'll get you off this island as soon as possible."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 18, 2007 16:49:43 GMT -5
"I was supposed to be catching a conecting flight and since it would appear I'm going to miss it, I need to make arrangements. Do you mind if I borrow your telephone?"
"Telephone?" he raised his considerable eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I...well, none of us have one. We have a station to contact the outside world by, but no telephones-wait, where do you think you've crashed?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 14, 2007 2:32:28 GMT -5
"Ah, no...I'm not God either. My name is Samantha Harkness. And you are right, I was in a plane crash. I assume you saw it coming down?"
"Wow, you're all....English and everything." he said, feeling the sudden urge to imitate her accent. "Oh, sorry, that's not exactly high priority right now. Yeah, a bunch of us saw it come down, the majority of us are making their way to the crash site. My name's Preston Saint, by the way."
He took her filthy hand, shaking it enthusiastically, and then closed the door behind them. "They'll be back soon, then we'll try to sort out what's happening." he said. He then drew closer to her, inspecting the wounds on her face and arms. "Those wounds don't look too bad, considering...I might need to clean them up a little. Do you need anything besides medical attention? Food, water, a bed, or shower, or anything?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 13, 2007 16:22:49 GMT -5
He turned around at the knocking noise. Who the hell was that? Aaron again, or Sofia, trying to disturb him?
He sighed, running a hand back through his hair. He dashed over to the CD player, hitting pause. He wheeled around again, and headed toward the back door. The back door. Why were they knocking at the back door?
He fiddled with the keys, unlocking the door and cracking it open. "I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he got a good look at the woman at the front door.
A woman he'd never seen before, and he definitely would have seen her before. He would've noticed someone that beautiful, after all. For a moment, he was slightly stunned by her beauty, before he began realizing who she was. A survivor.
Everything about her screamed it. The filthy, torn clothes, the marks and scratches that would be healed in no time at all. The overall dirty look of her that was strangely appealing, which he hoped was a deep psychological trait of his rather than a disturbing sexual fetish he had yet to uncover.
"Jesus." he breathed, raising his thick eyebrows in surprise. He opened the door wider. "My God, are you all right? Come in, come in...God, are you from the crash?" He asked all this with genuine concern, although in the back of his mind, he knew what to do. He had to keep her here, keep her occupied until the others returned. Until then, she would have to be a prisoner in his home, albeit an unknowing one.
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