x x x
"Well John, what do you want me to do? Send them all back out into the typhoon?"
"No, no." Locke's eyes dart nervously around the crowd of beach dwellers milling around the hatch, tracking in rain, sand and curiosity. He reminds Jack of a storekeeper wary of children's sticky hands and old ladies with unusually large purses. "We just have to take extra precautions, see that no one interferes with the computer or discovers our guest," his voice drops so low on the last part that Jack can barely hear him.
"Fine, I'll stay outside the armoury."
Locke considers this offer, undoubtedly wondering if he could somehow man both positions himself but finally he nods. "If you need to change his bandages, I'll create a diversion."
Jack hopes it doesn't come to that because knowing Locke, a simple 'look over here' will not suffice. "Fine, John."
So Jack plants himself in front of the gun vault and tries to look nonchalant. He notices that without being prompted Sayid takes up a position at the other end of the lounge where he has a clear view of the makeshift jail. They're probably being over protective; it's not like anyone could get in without the combination but having been locked in there once himself, Jack knows Henry could make himself heard if he wanted. He also knows finding a suspected Other in their midst would be a disaster on par with the typhoon, especially in a week that had begun with Michael's disappearance and ended with Sawyer's coup and in between had witnessed Charlie's manic episode and Sun's attack. It would be an understatement to say morale had plummeted.
Even though it's almost two in the morning, most people are too keyed up from the storm and the novelty of the hatch to sleep. For those to whom the hatch is new, they wander about exploring its nooks and crannies, quietly formulating theories about its existence, while those who have been here before quickly make use of the amenities before the hot water runs out. It doesn't surprise Jack to see Sawyer emerge from the direction of the shower looking warm and snug, though slightly silly, dressed in a Swan Station coverall while his clothes presumably toss and turn in the dryer. Meanwhile the steel door is cold against Jack's damp t-shirt and jeans and he would like nothing more than to have hot shower, crawl into one of the bunks and sleep for a week. The best he can do is remove his wet socks and shoes and take a moment to curse Henry, the island, Oceanic and Sawyer, for good measure.
Jack soon discovers the tighter people are wound, the quicker they unravel. Everyone's relatively calm until Libby unearths a crate of wine from behind a false panel in the bedroom wall. From there, it only takes a few minutes for the hatch to dissolve into something resembling a frat house crossed with the day room at a mental institution.
Hurley puts on a Jackson Five album and starts a ping pong tournament. Oblivious to the music's tempo, Bernard is waltzing with Rose and when he sees Ana sitting by herself on the couch, he gets her on her feet too. Suddenly those not participating in ping pong are dancing or laughing at those who are, even Sayid's tapping his foot. And if Jack's not mistaken, the smell of freshly baked cookies is wafting over from kitchen, nicely masking the odour of wet dog.
God only know what Henry thinks is happening out here.
"How're you gonna keep them down on the farm once they've seen Paris?" Sawyer appears at his side with an open bottle of Dharma Sauvignon gripped in one hand.
"Once the alarm goes off, they won't find it so pleasant."
Sawyer offers him the bottle and Jack hesitates. He's still chilled and the wine would probably help with that but at least one of them needs to stay alert.
"Drink up, nothing's coming to get us in this storm."
"Maybe so, but the way they're dancing someone might require major surgery before the night's out." To punctuate Jack's statement, Steve wrenches his back performing a particularly spastic move.
"Suit yourself," Sawyer says and takes a long swig. Then he nudges Jack in the ribs and directs his attention to a dark corner where Nikki and Paulo are clutched in an embrace that leaves little to the imagination. "Do you think someone should tell them there's a bedroom before they get to third base?…Oh too late. Nice."
With that image burned in his brain, Jack's had enough. "Give me the bottle."
"That's the spirit."
They both slide down to the floor and sit with their backs against the armoury door, passing the bottle back and forth and watching Jin and Eko defeat their challengers one by one. The wine hits Jack's toes first and by the time they've finished off the bottle, he feels bathed in a warm glow.
It only gets better when Claire comes around to everyone with a plate of cookies she's made. Jack has no idea where she got the ingredients and by their mushy consistency it appears she had to improvise, however they taste just as good as they smell, rich and buttery with a hint of ginger. Jack can't remember anything ever tasting so good. Claire basks in the compliments Sawyer and Jack shower on her and she slips them each an extra one.
Jack's savouring his second cookie when Sawyer stops Charlie on his way by. He's holding his own cookie in front of him like a prize, a blissful expression plastered on his face from being included in Claire's allocation, despite his recent behaviour. Sawyer promises Charlie his extra one if he can scrounge them up another bottle of wine, a quest he cheerfully accepts.
"So how drunk do I have to get you before you tell me what or who you're guarding?" Sawyer asks as they wait for Charlie to return.
"What?" Jack sputters, less surprised at Sawyer's perceptiveness than at his own absent-mindedness. Sitting here, licking crumbs off his fingers, the taste of wine still on his lips, he had temporarily forgotten about Henry.
"I have the guns and the dope so there's no reason for you to have been glued to this spot all night."
"Speaking of which, I hope wherever you got them, they're staying nice and dry in this weather."
A fleeting moment of panic crosses Sawyer's face. "They'll survive. And nice deflection Doc, but we're talking about your ruse now."
Jack shrugs, hoping it looks casual. "I just figured no one needed a reminder that a room like this even exists."
"So if I were to knock, no one would answer back."
"Go ahead."
He holds his breath as Sawyer calls his bluff and raps loudly on the door, then presses his ear to it. Jack checks for Sayid's response but he's too busy watching Kate and Sun attempt to bring down Jin and Eko to even notice Sawyer's actions.
"I hear scratching. You got one of them bears in there?"
"Yeah, Sawyer, I'm running a covert animal sanctuary down here."
"Fine, don't tell me." He straightens up and tosses his hair back. "I bet it's that hatch guy."
"Then you don't want me to let him out because he'll be pissed you've stolen his uniform."
It's at that point when Jack realizes the wine has done more than raise his body temperature because the image of a rabid Desmond bursting out and attacking Sawyer, clawing at the coveralls and ripping them off, much like Sawyer's imaginary bear would, strikes him as intensely funny. Laughter bubbles up inside him, tickling his throat. He tries to keep quiet, but the harder he forces it back, the more it threatens to pour out. Tears stream down his face, and his whole body vibrates. Sawyer's gawking only provokes Jack further and he has to hug his knees and put his head down to keep from bursting.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he finally manages to say, once he thinks he's got himself under control. He clears his throat a few times but a half snort, half giggle sneaks out unexpectedly.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for such a lightweight, Doc. I believe you're tipsy," Sawyer proclaims with a wide grin, looking and sounding more satisfied than if he got the information out of Jack.
Instead of protesting, Jack simply smiles and allows Sawyer to help him up so they have a better view of what appears to be a rally for game point. The ball flies back and forth between Jin and Sun, leaving their team mates as mere bystanders. Finally Sun wins the advantage with a wily backhand and crowd goes silent in anticipation of an upset. Even Locke comes out of the computer room to watch. Jack gets dizzy trying to follow the ball's path and he misses what actually happens in the end but suddenly Kate and Sun are hugging and jumping up and down.
While everyone claps and cheers for the victors, Charlie returns apologetic and empty handed, looking wistfully at the saved cookie peeking out of Sawyer's breast pocket.
"Sorry kid," he says, giving his cookie to Jack. "Betty Ford, here, is three sheets to the wind and needs all the sustenance he can get to stay on his feet."
Jack nods solemnly and sways a little bit for dramatic effect as he bites into his cookie. Charlie looks at them like they're both nuts before he slinks off.
He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or if he's just been on this island for too long, but in spite of the tropical storm above them and the prisoner behind him, not to mention the man beside him who flits so regularly between friend and foe it makes his head spin, for the first time in sixty days Jack feels relaxed. He decides to relish this feeling because he knows it won't last. The counter's ticking down and in a few minutes an alarm's going to blare that will halt everyone's celebration. Tomorrow's likely to bring new threats and Sawyer will be back to serving him crap rather than cookies, but for now, all that doesn't matter.
He's safe, warm, fed, not alone, and probably the only one to have scored three cookies tonight. That's about as good as it gets here.
x x x