Okay, so I found this on my computer afew days ago and I forgot that I had written it - so I thought I'd put it up here... it's probably kind of redundant now, as it's set in season two, sort of just after Shannon died, so yeah.... that's all... enjoy, I guess? (and yes, she is probably has some rather Mary-Sue esque qualities for which I apologise...)
It's another warm day, she thought, when she first woke up. It wasn't the sweltering heat that it had been the first few weeks on the island but breezy and hot all at the same time. She drew a hand across her eyes, yawned, and crawled out of her little makeshift shelter to get a better look at the day.
The majority of people who had decided to stay camped on the beach were up and about doing whatever it was they did to get through another day – some were trying to make their beach shelters more secure, more homelike, the others were simply trying to keep busy until they "get rescued." Marcella was pretty certain no one believed they'd be rescued anymore – maybe some people still held onto that thought, but Marcella still held onto a very small slither of hope that somehow they would be rescued. Even though, for the most part, she had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be stuck on the godforsaken island for a damn long while.
Vincent, Walt's Labrador was getting under everyone's toes, sniffing around and barking happily, oblivious to the fact that everyone was too uptight or worried to perform any kind of dog-sitting duty today. Marcella whistled to the very friendly dog and he came bounding up to her, evidently grateful for the company.
She grinned and let him chase her down to the water where she clumsily removed her jeans before pitching herself into the cool waves in her shirt and underwear, with Vincent barking and still jumping up at her.
After her morning frolic with the dog she went back to her shelter to seek out the towel she had found in someone's suitcase. She dried herself off before pulling on a dry shirt and her jeans again.
She looked out across the beach as she began to dry her long curled hair and saw Sayid and Jack caught up in what looked like a rather serious conversation.
She couldn't imagine how he must feel having lost the woman he loved only a few weeks ago. She couldn't imagine how any of them felt. She had lost people in the past, but what did that matter now, really? Everyone she loved or cared about, before their plane had crashed had probably forgotten her, or resigned themselves to the fact that she was dead. She had not cried for the loss of her family for a month now.
She sighed as she watched the Iraqi man and the doctor conversing. She wasn't really close to Sayid although they had talked often. She sometimes felt self conscious around him and found it hard to talk to him without sounding, or at least feeling like a damn fool. However if she were being honest with herself, she did like him immensely.
Jack said something and Sayid smiled, his face softening for a moment, and Marcella bit her lip as she watched him. If she were very honest - she felt a whole lot more for him than she liked to let on, especially considering the fact that he had loved…did love…Shannon – tall, blonde, beautiful, confident – almost the exact opposite of me, thought Marcella, feeling very slightly resentful and then guilty because Shannon was gone now.
Suddenly, perhaps sensing that someone was watching him, Sayid glanced across at her and stopped his conversation to give her a smile, and a short wave. Jack turned to where Sayid was looking and waved at her as well. Then both men turned back to their discussion. Thankfully they were both too far away from her to see her blush as she waved back at them.
Must stop staring at handsome Iraqi men, she thought to herself and headed intentionally away from them, towards the direction of the caves.
"Lookin' good Betty," Sawyer drawled as she inelegantly tramped her way across the sand in front of his 'tent,' drying her hair roughly from her ocean romp.
"Betty?" She asked bemused, she removed the towel from her hair "Okay, so I'm assuming this is the nickname game finally getting around to me, right?"
"What's that?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her from where he was lounging on his acquired airplane seat.
"Well you seem to have given everyone a nickname," She smiled and continued to towel dry her hair as she spoke, "I mean, sometimes you call Jack 'The Doc,' you call Kate 'Freckles,' you call Sayid…well… any kind of middle eastern name you can think of, so I guess it's my turn huh?"
Sawyer chuckled and ran a hand through his dark blonde hair, "That's only three examples there, Betty," he pointed out.
She smiled and shook her head, "Okay…why Betty then?"
He stared up at her silently smirking.
She sighed, not wanting to play into his game, "Okay, I'll see you later, Sawyer," she said and turned to head towards her own shelter.
"Betty Boop!"
She turned back to him, "Huh?"
"Your name – it's Betty Boop." He grinned.
"Betty Boop?" She asked, not comprehending.
"What's the matter? Ain't ever heard of Betty Boop?" He asked, taken aback.
She continued to frown at him.
"Betty Boop - she was this sassy little chick in cartoons from the 30's and-"
"No," She interrupted, "I…sorry, I know who she is but…I still don't get why my nickname's Betty." She explained.
He grinned up at her, "Ha, gotcha."
She rolled her eyes, "So, are you gunna tell me or what?"
"Well, look at cha," He gestured towards her, letting her notice him running his eyes up and down her body, "you're five foot nothin', great big dark eyes, nice round…hips."
She tried not to smile at him, "Right," She tossed her wet towel at him playfully.
"C'mon," he stood up and rested his hand on the tree beside her and leaned very closely towards her, "Look at those big eyes," His grin faded slightly as he fixed his gaze on her, "Certain men could fall in love with those eyes, Betty."
Marcella's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, feeling both embarrassed and amused. She racked her brain for a smart-arse comeback and opened her mouth a few times to try out some sentences but nothing came to mind.
"Um…I gotta go, Sawyer," She said eventually, ducking under his arm.
"Why? You got a prior engagement? A business meeting?" He called after her, "Case you haven't noticed, ocean girl, we're on the mystery island of time here! I don't think you're gunna miss much."
She kept walking and half waved over her shoulder, back at him. She had already learnt not to take Sawyer's words too seriously. He flirted excessively or was terribly inappropriate with every female on the island so she knew he didn't mean anything by the things he said about her. However being the "Slightly bigger" girl all her life and the constant brunt of a lot of fat girl jokes, it was hard not to take the smooth southern man's compliments, however blatant they were, to heart.
That was about the only good point of this crazy place – she thought it would be a rather shrewd idea to market a weight-loss program. Lose 60 pounds in 60 days with the crazy island diet.
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