This is a little shot from Season 1, right before the finale. It's a little spattering of all my favorite characters and a thousand references to other episodes. Also Sayid. Gorgeous, gorgeous Sayid. Just your average day on the island.
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As the sun began to rise over a dark blue ocean it cast long rays of light across Kate's eyelids. She rolled over, letting her body dip into the sand before pulling herself to a sitting position, eyes still closed. The weariness of the latest trek through the jungle still lingered in her bones yet she forced herself to rise and stretch. She had to be awake before the rest of them. Ever after six weeks on the island she still was unable to relax enough to be seen sleeping. As soon as the first voice of the morning drifted to her tent she was up and on alert, ready to face the day. More often, though, it was the sun that woke her and she was able to brush sleep from her eyes before anyone else arose.
Sure enough as she pushed aside the plastic tarp door of her humble home she saw nothing but an empty beach spread before her, hints of smoke drifting from abandoned fires and the slight snoring from Hurley's tent. It was almost peaceful at this time, when everyone still slept, dreaming of lives far away from this God-forsaken rock.
Kate stretched again but then gasped and crouched into her ready position as she heard a loud crack from the far end of the beach. She righted herself and heaved a sigh when she saw, in the distance, Sayid step out from another tarp and look expectantly back towards camp. When he seemed confident that no one had been awakened, he disappeared again into his work station. Curious, Kate hiked through the sand to see what had the Iraqi man awake so early.
He did not seem to hear her approach and Kate had a moment to observe without being seen. Sayid's hair fell over his eyes as he wrapped a bandana around his hand and began to twist apart galvanized fitting of a piece of pipe. After straining at it for a moment he abruptly dropped the piece and threw his face into the bandana with a powerful and muffled sneeze.
"Uh-schoo!"
"Bless you," whispered Kate causing the man to start. Like Kate he always adopted a reflexive crouch when startled. He blushed when he saw his opponent.
"Thank you," he smiled kindly.
"Workin' on the transmitter again?" she asked, sliding her up the bamboo holding his tent together.
"I believe the pieces we got from the beach craft will help," he replied, lifting a strand of wire delicately from the sand. "Between this and what we have from the plane I am hopeful. Of course, I was more hopeful when I started three hours ago."
"Three hours?" Kate's eyebrows lifted. "Couldn't sleep?"
"What is it they say?" Sayid looked up at her. "No rest for the wicked?"
"Still fighting with Shannon?"
"She has no spoken to me since Boone died," Sayid's hands dropped and he looked off sadly. "I do not think she will ever forgive me for refusing to kill Locke."
Kate crouched to his level and rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "Trust me on this Sayid, one day she'll thank you for it."
Sayid did not answer but looked skeptical before suddenly pulling away from Kate's touch with another powerful "Uh-schoo!"
Kate leaned back and gave him another look. "Are you feeling okay?"
He rubbed roughly at his nose with the bandana turned handkerchief and sniffled. "I am alright Kate. I think I have caught a little cold, is all."
"That's what you get for pulling an all-nighter," she chided gently. She watched him for a moment longer before standing. "I'm going to go wrangle up some breakfast, can I bring you something? Maybe some juice or something with Vitamin C?"
He looked up at her and Kate saw, for the first time, the tinge of fatigue in his large, brown eyes. "I'll be fine, Kate, really. I just want to work on this some more."
"Okay then," she said hesitantly. "Don't work too hard."
"I won't," he reassured her.
As Kate walked away she heard another thunderous sneeze. With a quick glance back she made the immediate decision where she needed to go, however distasteful.
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"Morning Freckles," groaned Sawyer, rolling out from under a sleeping bag. "Ain't it a little early for us to start this dance?"
"Where are your cold meds?" she demanded looking up from where she was elbow deep in Sawyer's stash.
"If you're feelin' sick, maybe you should just climb back into bed darlin'," he lifted the edge of his blanket and Kate glanced over getting the briefest glimpse of naked Southern flesh.
"Dammit Sawyer, I didn't need to see that," she hissed, shielding her eyes and moving to the next back of stolen goods.
"Hey, you woke me up," he pointed out. "I just happen to enjoy sleeping in nature au natural."
Kate rolled her eyes and tossed aside a third back. She sat back onto her heels in frustration. "Where is it?" she insisted.
"What you think I'm just going to hand it over?" he drawled. "How 'bout some more of that quid pro quo?"
Kate stared with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "How 'bout I start telling people how disappointing that was?" she indicated the lump of his body covered by blanket.
Sawyer's brow furrowed and he scowled. "Too mean, Freckles. Too mean." He leaned behind his head to the backpack he used as a pillow and plucked from it a packet of cough drops.
"This should take care of your runny nose," he said eyeing her.
"It's not for me, it's for Sayid," she snatched the pills and rose to leave.
"Kate?"
She turned back to see a unique and vulnerable look in the con man's eyes. She softened and felt a hint of a blush rise to her cheeks. "I've definitely seen worse," she offered before walking away.
Sawyer grinned and leaned back into his bed. "Oh yeah," he said to himself as he rested his head back onto his hands, "she wants me."
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After tucking the pills into her knapsack, Kate began the trek to Sun's garden. It was still early for most people to be up so she was surprised to find the Korean woman already kneeling in the dirt, a pile of weeds at her side.
"Good morning Kate," said Sun tranquilly.
"Morning," she responded. "You're up early."
Sun shrugged. "I haven't been sleeping well lately. Ever since Jin…" her words trailed off and she shrugged again.
"He just needs time, Sun. He'll come around."
"Maybe," Sun responded, brushing a hair from her face. "What can I do for you Kate?"
"Sayid's sick."
Sun's face lit with alarm. "Is he okay?"
"Oh yeah," Kate hurried to explain. "Sorry, he's fine really. He's coming down with a cold. That's all."
"Ahh," understanding struck her face and Sun leaned behind her to pluck a few leaves from a tall plant. "Then you should give him this. It will help him breathe easier."
"Thanks Sun," said Kate, adding the plant to her collection.
"Poor Sayid," Sun said. "First the thing with Shannon and now being sick. He must feel miserable. I hope that will help."
"The real trick will be getting him to lay down for a little while. He was up all night fiddling with that transmitter."
"Good luck."
Kate smiled her thanks and took off for one more stop.
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"The real trick is heating the kettle without burning yourself. You need a really good stick that can hold the whole thing up. I can't tell you how many times I dropped the kettle into the fire when I first started doing it."
"Making tea Charlie?" Kate and Charlie turned back from their hunch over the fire to see Claire had woken up. Her eyes fuzzy with sleep but thick with contentment as she nuzzled her new infant.
"It's for Sayid. Apparently he's a bit under the weather, poor guy."
Claire carried the baby over to the pair humming as Charlie continued to talk. "Of course they come to me. Americans don't know the first thing about good tea. Barbarians, all of you." The last he directed at Kate with a laugh.
"Is there going to be any extra?" asked Claire.
"Plenty," he replied carefully retracting the stick holding the kettle. "Do you want some, then?"
"Yes please," she replied sweetly.
"What about you, Turniphead?" Charlie kissed the top baby's head as Kate took the kettle and began to pour. She nearly spilled the scalding water as she laughed.
"Turniphead?" she repeated.
Claire rolled her eyes. "That's not his name," she insisted. "And you need to stop telling people that. I don't want it catching on."
As the playful bickering continued Kate clutched the travel mug and headed back towards Sayid's tent. She smiled as Claire and Charlie's voices faded off behind her. At least one relationship was good on this island.
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She could hear coughing when she was within 20 yards of the workshop. It was thick and painful sounding and stopped abruptly when she called out Sayid's name.
He emerged from the tent with his typically welcoming smile. "Hello again, Kate."
Since the morning his voice had taken on a hoarse, rusty edge and his sinuses further mottled his speaking. Still his face shone with politeness and he reached to take Kate's bag as she struggled to balance the tea while walking on sand.
"Here," she handed the mug to him.
His head cocked and he looked at her inquisitively while taking the drink.
"It's tea," she said. "And here," she opened the knapsack on the ground and began to pull things from it. "Cough drops, clean handkerchiefs, some plant from Sun that I'm thinking is eucalyptus…"
There was a rush of gratitude in Sayid's face as he replied; "You did all of this for me?"
Kate tried to appear nonchalant. "Well, I figure you're busting your butt trying to get us off this island. I can at least do something for you."
"That's very sweet," he said sincerely. But Kate noticed, the smile did not quiet reach his eyes.
As she encouraged him to sit and drink the tea did not speak again. She crushed the eucalyptus while he scanned the horizon. At one point his eyes stopped and stared and Kate followed his gaze.
A few hundred yards off sat Shannon. Her slender body was wrapped tightly in a pink, gauzy cloth a far cry from the skimpy bikinis she had worn in the early days after the crash. Her eyes were red from tears but her jaw was set and cold. Anger traced the lines of her face. Looking back at Sayid, Kate nearly felt her heart break. His face crumpled in longing as he stared off at Shannon who did not even glance his way.
After finishing his tea Sayid nodded his thanks again to Kate and reached again for his tools.
"Why don't you take the day off?" she suggested. "You could probably stand to get some sleep."
"We cannot afford to waste time, Kate." He pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted as though warding off either frustration or a headache. Probably both.
"Michael's going to be launching the raft any day now. We might not even need to put out a signal."
"It is possible that Michael will get help for us. However, I do not wish to put all our eggs in that basket…" His voice trailed off as he leaned to the side and sneezed three times, doubling at the waist. He swallowed and winced. Then he began to study the transmitter catching sight Kate's disapproving glance from the corner of his eye.
"Thank you for everything," he said without putting the receiver down. "But I'll be fine Kate."
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"How do you get sick on a tropical island?"
Sayid opened his eyes where they had been forced shut against the sharp rays of daylight. His neck ached from being crouched over the radio and it cracked painfully when he turned his head up to see Shannon standing in the light of the doorway.
"I guess the same way you get sick anywhere else." He answered coolly, waiting for Shannon to explain her presence.
She stepped closer and toyed with the cords holding together the lining of the structure. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine Shannon. It's just a cold."
She took another step so that her face was inches from Sayid's. She studied the contours of his face while he waited, curious and uneasy. She looked from the red flush of his nose to the dark bags beneath his eyes. She listened to his slight wheezing and quiet sniffling. She raised a hand to his forehead and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was the touch he had missed severely in recent days.
"How do you feel?" She asked again, staring fixedly.
"Not good," he finally admitted.
She nodded; still searching then took his hand. "Come on," she said gently, leading him from the workshop.
Within minutes Sayid was lounging on the floor of Shannon's tent while she rubbed Sun's concoction into his chest. He looked around him, calmed by the ethereal peace of the place. While the other survivors had made their tents as minimalist as possible, Shannon had taken time to adorn her space with colorful wraps from her luggage. She had carpeted the floor with towels and even collected all the matching blue, Oceanic pillows. It was on the pillows where she had urged Sayid to rest his head.
As her slender fingers rubbed the cooling solution across his chest Sayid breathed more easily and began to sink into a deep rest. It was the comfort which brought forth the words.
"Shannon, I wanted to say that I am sorry about Boone. And I am sorry about what happened with John Locke."
Her hand froze in its circular motion and she said severely, "I buried my brother, Sayid."
"I know."
Her jaw tightened. "But I shouldn't have asked you what I did. I was angry. I was…wrong."
"You had every right to be angry," he said. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and then sharply grabbed Shannon's wrist.
When he cast her hand aside, she looked down in alarm just in time to see him pull a handkerchief from his pocket and sneeze harshly into it.
"Uh-shoo!" He groaned and leaned back into the pillows. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Yarhamuk allah."
Sayid's eyes popped open and he looked at her. "What did you say?"
A slow smile spread across Shannon's lips. "Yarhamuk allah," she repeated slowly.
Sayid stared at her with warm brown eyes. His breath caught in his throat at the familiar words. She reached for another dollop of eucalyptus and silently began to apply it, a warm and mysterious glint in her eye.
"Thank you," he whispered, knowing, for the first time, that he loved her.