milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Sawyer comes downstairs. He'd been keeping a close eye on Claire for most of the weekend, but yesterday he'd gone to his room for a shower and a little brooding time... just in time to miss the younger Charlie come and go. He goes to the bar for a drink, and a letter appears just long enough for him to read it before disappearing again.

"What the hell?"

[Summary: Sawyer and Claire argue over who'll be going back to the island after Charlie before moving on to other topics... like finally laying this "we're just friends" business to rest.]

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Speaking of Claire.

"So, my son's father is sixteen now."

No, she hasn't gotten her letter yet.

Now, he's thoroughly confused. "Huh? Hey, have you seen the note from Charlie? It reads almost like a damn suicide note. I think the bastard knew he wasn't coming back before he left."

"What? What note?" She frowns, forgetting her own news.

Because. . .suicide?

Sawyer turns to the bar. "Hey, bar! Lemme see that letter again."

Nothing.

He groans. "... please?"

The letter reappears.

She takes it from him and reads it a whole three times before sighing in relief. Well a sort of relief, because now they need to worry about their own Charlie.

"Okay, this is from the younger Charlie."

She hands the letter back to the bar and watches it disappear, then turns to Sawyer with a frown.

"Our Charlie hasn't come back from the island yet."

"'Younger Charlie'? Copycat."

He sighs. "Well, reckon we ought to round up a posse to go after him? And by 'we' I mean you're staying here, missy."

"You're not going back there without me," she says firmly. "You shouldn't have gone at all the other day. Neither one of you should have."

"Dammit, girl, we didn't go back there and pull you out just so you could go back and get hurt two days later."

"Stop calling me 'girl'," she scowls. "And it's just as dangerous for you as it was for me."

"Unless something seriously changed on the island, the name's an accurate one."

His expression softens just for a second. "And, let's face it, of the two of us, you're the one who'd be most missed. Hell, I think I'd miss you more than myself."

She opens her mouth to argue the first point but his second one takes her breath away.

So she just stares.

He shrugs. "Don't make a fuss about it. Just the way it is."

She stares a little more and then finally says the only thing she can think to say.

"So, my son's father was sixteen earlier."

"Huh." He scratches his head.

"How'd he handle fatherhood?"

"I don't know. About as well as he handled anything else here, I guess. He seemed a little shell-shocked."

She shifts on her barstool a little. "Liam still has Seth so. . . I haven't actually seen him yet."

"Avoiding that conversation?" Not that he blames her. He wouldn't want to break it to Liam that Charlie didn't come back with them.

Avoiding the son she feels she's abandoned is more like it, but she'll go with his theory.

"I only just found out a little while ago and then I didn't see him anywhere."

He sighs. "Let it wait until tomorrow. Can't do anything about it tonight, and there ain't no reason to go and upset the guy."

He finally gets around to ordering that whiskey he came after and takes a long drink. "You want somethin'?"

Since she technically hasn't eaten since. . . a while ago, the thought of food makes her very very hungry.

She nods. "A peanutbutter jelly sandwich. And chips. And a banana. . .and some tea."

She looks sheepishly at Sawyer as her food appears and then digs in. A few long moments later she asks quietly, "Will you tell me about the island? I. . .I'm not sure what I remember."

He rubs his chin thoughfully. He debates telling her about the baby skeltons, and decides against it. "Ain't a whole lot to tell. We found you in that ship. It's apparently the Black Rock we all been hearing about. You were pretty out of it."

She remembers the skeletons, actually. She just isn't sure they were real.

He shake his head. "Can't help you there. Hell, we wouldn't have known where you were if Charlie hadn't found your journal."

"What?!" she sits up straight and drops the potato chip she was eating back on the plate. "YOU read my journal?"

He shakes his head. "The midget wouldn't let me see it."

He grins, and an eyebrow goes up. "Why? What's in it?"

"Oh," she settles back down on the stool. Charlie she can deal with.

"Nothing."