Author's Note: Hi! This is my first Lost fanfic. It won't be too serious, just mostly weird and silly. This is somewhat AU, set early in season 2. There is some crude humor and language. Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody from this show.

It was yet another sunny, bright day on the island. Half of the gang was on Hurley's golf course, waiting semi-patiently for Sawyer to take his turn. Sawyer, however, was taking his own sweet time testing his swing. After he wiped dirt off his 9-iron for the ninth time, Kate groaned and swiped the club from his hand.

"Just hit the damn ball, Sawyer!" she snapped before handing it back to him. She, Jack, and Sawyer were playing against Charlie, Bernard, and Hurley.

Sawyer took a step back and said, "Whoa, easy there, Freckles. Is it that time of the month already? I guess I better get a new calendar." He shot her a wry grin as he gripped his club. She glared at him with contempt, but found she was wearing a tiny smile.

"We are losing daylight here, Sawyer, so please hit the bloody ball!" Charlie said in an annoyed tone and looked over at Claire, who was gently rocking baby Aaron in her arms. He wondered why she brought the baby here, since he generally slept better in his crib.

"Okay, okay, fine. Man, y'all are impatient," Sawyer replied. With one grand swing he smacked the ball into the sky, where it seemed to hover before disappearing behind some trees lining the far side of the field surrounding the golf course.

"Well done," Jack muttered sarcastically. "Did you have to hit it that hard? You know, we are short on balls around here." He immediately regretted saying that.

"Speak for yourself, Doc. Mine are just fine," Sawyer replied with a little swagger.

Kate sighed and said, "Okay, let's be grownups now. Go get your golf ball, Sawyer, so we can get on with this." She knew she wouldn't be letting Sawyer get on her nerves so easily if she had gotten enough sleep. Lately, she'd been having nightmares about giant naked mole rats chasing her.

"Me? Why should I go get it? Who knows what's in there." Sawyer said and crossed his arms, glaring at the trees.

"You hit it, you get it, dude," replied Hurley.

Sawyer scoffed and retorted, "Well, since you put it like that; I'm rubber, you're glue, so you get it, Pillsbury!" He grinned as he watched everybody groan and roll his or her eyes.

"Okay, I'll get the ball, since apparently I'm one of the only adults around here," Jack said with a sigh. He glared at Sawyer and started walking toward the far side of the field, squinting in the late afternoon sunshine. He wondered where Walt's dog Vincent was and wished the dog could go get the ball instead, so he could take his turn after Kate took hers.

Sawyer chuckled and said in a teasing tone, "Never mind, Mr. Shephard, I'll go. You need to stay here in case Gerald Ford over there beans someone again." He pointed his thumb at Charlie, who looked indignant.

"That was a fluke! The wind blew it!" Charlie retorted. He looked sheepishly at the round bruise on Bernard's forehead and said, "Again, I'm terribly sorry about that, Bernard." Bernard nodded and smiled weakly.

"Um, I don't think the wind likes you, dude," Hurley said and tenderly patted the spot on his head where Charlie's ball had hit him earlier. He was lucky that his thick curly hair had softened the blow.

"Nah, I think he's just overcompensating for something," Sawyer added with a mischievous smirk, leaning on his golf club like it was a third leg. Charlie and Claire scowled at him.

Jack groaned and said, "All right, that's enough. Just go get your ball, Sawyer." He turned around and went to look at Bernard's forehead.

Sawyer opened his mouth to reply but found that even he was getting tired of vulgar jokes. So with a smile and a swing of his club onto his shoulder, Sawyer sauntered off toward the edge of the field. Kate exhaled sharply and prepared to tee off. That man could be such a pain in the ass sometimes! But as she watched Sawyer walk off, she tried not to worry about him. After all, he was only going to the very edge of the jungle, not deep within it. And he would be within screaming distance, so they could hear his call for help if he needed any. She told herself not to worry so much and waited for him to pass the next five holes before she would hit her ball. But Sawyer was now idling along at a crippled snail's pace, making a big show of admiring the scenery around him. "Move it, redneck!" Kate shouted. He responded by shaking his hips with each agonizingly slow step.

"He's not even at the next hole yet. At this rate, Aaron will be potty-trained when he gets back," Claire moaned, rocking her newborn in her arms.

A devious smile crept across Charlie's face. "Watch this," he replied and cupped his hands around his mouth. "FORE!" he yelled in a heavy British accent. Sawyer instantly shot past the next five holes in a frantic dash to the end of the field. Everybody burst out laughing and clapping, happy to get the game moving again.

Sawyer reached the trees in minutes and leaned against one to rest. He was glad to be out of Charlie's firing range. As he scoured the forest floor for his ball, he wondered who would be Charlie's next victim. He hoped it wasn't Kate. Suddenly a bush rustled a few feet away, and his golf ball rolled out of it. "Well there you are, you little round bastard," Sawyer muttered. He prodded it closer with his club and bent over to pick it up. As soon as his fingers touched the ball, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He instantly slapped his hand on his neck, thinking it was another damn mosquito biting him. But instead of a squished bug, his fingers plucked out a small, thin round object. "What the hell?" he muttered and found that he was holding a green blow dart. His shock and realization only lasted a second before his body went numb, and he heard a peculiar cat-like purring just before he blacked out…

A/N: Okay, that's the first chapter. How was it? It'll get weirder later on, much weirder and sillier. Please leave a review!