I had the desperate urge to write some random, really trivial Sana fluff...so here it is. It's a companion piece to my other fic 'He Doesn't Know' so you'll know who the kids are if you've read that one. ;) It's really not what you think it's going to be!

Title: The Other Woman.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sana.

Summary: He stirred in his sleep suddenly and Ana debated whether or not to step back outside the tent so as not to disturb them, but she was glued to her spot. Compelled to remain and watch the pair of them. To watch her as she slept. The one who had captured his heart and had no intention of returning it anytime soon it seemed.

Warnings: Fluffy as a baby bunny, so if that makes you balk, don't read! ;p

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Lost, except for Shane and Isleta who I made up! ;D

The Other Woman.

It had been Ana-Lucia's turn for hatch duty, though she hadn't particularly relished the notion of being stuck in the dingy, musty smelling underground warren of rooms, and, being the inquisitive and predictable four year old that he was, Shane had incessantly demanded to accompany her…and then had spent the entire time complaining and crying about being bored. And too hot. Then too cold. And thirsty. And hungry. And then needing to go potty. And being thirsty again. And being even more bored!

Eventually, following four hours of juggling her attention craving son with getting them both fed and cleaned up and washing the family laundry in between inputting the correct numbers and pushing the damn button, Ana-Lucia was glad to see the back of the hatch when Jack arrived to relieve her, his arms full of his own family's dirty washing and his own belligerent son in tow. They shared a bemused glance of understanding before heading their separate ways and Ana broke through into the balmy air of the coming night.

Halfway home, exhausted from his day of constant grousing, Shane demanded to be carried, and Ana was too tired to properly argue that he wasn't a baby anymore. That he was a big boy now and he had strong legs of his own. Eventually he won and grinned up at her sleepily with his father's dimples as she hefted him into her arms feeling more like a packhorse than a parent with him clinging limpet-style to her. His arms and legs were slim and his chin narrow and sharp as he rested it against her shoulder, winding those spindle-like limbs about her neck to tangle his little hands in her ebony curls there. Ebony like his own were and whereas the gesture was made to comfort himself, the little boy was not aware of how much comfort it brought to her as she carried them home.

By the time that she reached the beach, broaching the tree line and stepping out onto the still warm white sands, the sky had changed from the fiery orange of a dieing sun to the deep reds and purples of twilight. Her favourite time of night as the smells of hot sand and jungle foliage mingled together with the cool freshness of the ocean spray and the distinct scent of the coming night. The jungle around them chirruped with insects and roosting birds and frogs, settling down for slumber as were the rest of the survivors of the long ago plane crash and their families. Families that they had created and raised there in the wilderness and the fatal paradise, without the interventions and interruptions of modern day problems and uncertainties. Away from the real world and yet here, in the simplicity of nature and nothingness, they were thriving. Immediately after the crash they had just been surviving and in the years following it they had just been making do until rescue came. But somewhere along the line, when all hope had disappeared, they had begun living. Appreciating the little things, the things that they still had, the people they were with. Friends. Lovers. Families. And they were all the better for it.

At least Ana-Lucia felt so anyway. Had the 815 to LAX not crashed, she would never have overcome her demons. Had the 815 to LAX not crashed, she would never have met Sawyer and had the 815 to LAX not crashed, she would never had had a second chance at having the very thing that had been stolen from her…a family…
Shane murmured into the crook of her neck in his sleep and she hefted him a little higher in her grasp, cradling his back with one arm and the crown of his head with the other hand. Pulling him closer and resting her cheek upon his soft, black curls inherited from her.

She could see their shelter as she strode carefully down the length of the golden sands, smiling and offering murmured 'goodnight's', careful not to wake her sleeping son, as she passed by the tents and shelters and wooden shacks of the people she had survived with and lived beside for nearly five years since fate had deigned to bring them all together upon the strange island.

The area was silent as she neared, air shimmering silver and liquid with the last heat of the day. Blue tarps were drawn down across the entrance from where they were attached to the sturdier wooden roof, like a makeshift door to their family home. Bamboo lashed together and tied between strong, thick wooden posts dug deep into the ground served as the walls to their dwelling, keeping prying eyes out and their own private business within. It wasn't much compared to what she'd had back in the other reality of civilization, but she would no doubt have given up everything and anything she had ever owned in her past existence, just to have what she had at that moment.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head at the curious softness that motherhood seemed to instil in her suddenly and at such inexplicable moments. She couldn't even pinpoint when the change in her had taken place. She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't ruled by events from her past though she would never forget them and Shane knew all about his older brother or sister who had gone up to heaven to be with the angels. The island had allowed her to change, had given her back what the other world had so cruelly taken from her and for that, she was glad that flight 815 had tumbled from the sky that day those almost five years ago.

Ana-Lucia bent slowly, careful not to disturb Shane from where he continued to snore lightly curled about her neck and balanced on her left hip as she pushed her way through their plastic 'front door', peering into the dim, night tinted air.

What she saw made her stop in her tracks and simply stand there motionless, her son and Sawyer's clasped to her heart as she gazed down upon the sight that greeted her.

He lay, head propped against his old stash satchel, face covered completely by an open book, which had probably been used to keep the brightness out during the day while he slept. His shirt, the black one which was tattered now and had been the very garment that he had worn when they had first met, remained only half buttoned revealing to all who cared to look a smooth, hairless chest, tanned from the constant sun. A chest that she remembered touching and marking in so many ways, staking her claim over him as the only woman that would hold sway over his heart…

…And yet, the head that rested pillowed upon that chest begged to differ. Stated clearly that she had obviously been wrong, deluded to think that she would be the only one to fill that role.

She lay there upon his chest, cheeks flushed a rosy blush of sleep pink. Thick, long, dark lashes brushed against those cheeks as she curled against him, seeking the warmth of his body that Ana-Lucia knew only too well. That Ana-Lucia had come to need and crave.

Upon the nights that he was away on hatch duty, and he always chose the night shifts, she never slept, so accustomed to the feel of him beside her, a comforting weight and warmth and security as she permitted strong arms to snake about her waist on the condition that he refrain from starting anything when they weren't alone.

She was beautiful as she lay there against him and beneath Ana's watch. Cupid, pale rose painted lips parted slightly so that she could breathe in the balmy air.

She was a beauty. Curls and waves of hair falling about her head like a halo in the growing dark, so soft that it defied the harsh sun and salt from the sea as the elements conspired to dry the silken strands out like it had done with Ana's over time.

One of Sawyer's arms curled around her protectively, following the contour of her back while the other cradled her head to him, to his chest above his heart and Ana-Lucia was left with no doubt whatsoever that Sawyer most definitely loved the enchanting creature sleeping gently and carefully guarded by his embrace. She could see it in the way he held her with such tenderness within his powerful hands.

He stirred in his sleep suddenly and Ana debated whether or not to step back outside the tent so as not to disturb them, but she was glued to her spot. Compelled to remain and watch the pair of them. To watch her as she slept. The one who had captured his heart and had no intention of returning it anytime soon it seemed.

He lifted the edge of his book away from his face using his thumb as if he were tilting a Stetson in a salute to her, peering out of the darker shadows there and up at Ana-Lucia's face. And he grinned. Lazily and languidly he smiled up at her, yawning and quietly placing the book to one side before folding that arm behind his head and stilling once more.

"Didn't s'pect you back so soon, Chica." he offered, voice low and growling and slurred from sleep and the desire not to wake her as she slept at his side.

"I can see that." Ana returned in a whisper, mirroring his relaxed smile, brushing the shadowy curls from Shane's forehead and placing a kiss there as she moved and set him down upon the other side of the small shelter, pulling the royal blue airplane blankets across him and tucking him in. "We talked about this, Cowboy."

Finally she resumed her previous place before Sawyer as he reclined staring at the ceiling, rolling his eyes at her mild reprimand, and she slipped down to her knees beside him, leaning across him to peer down at her again, smoothing the downy golden locks from her tiny, peaceful face.

"I know, I know, she needs to sleep in her cradle 'case I squash her like a frog…" Sawyer grumbled beneath his breath as she rested her elbows onto his torso to continue her scrutiny of their baby girl. "She's so perfect." he breathed in wonder. "Can't help it that I wanna keep her by me all the time, now can I, Sugar?" he continued and it made Ana's smile widen as she reluctantly moved the slumbering baby to her makeshift crib.

Yes, Sawyer was indeed smitten with the baby at his side, much as she, herself, was totally in love with their little Isleta, not even six months old yet. As much as they both loved their first child, Shane who slept on in his own little bed a comforting four feet to Ana's right.

"No." she grinned, lying beside him again and allowing him to pull her tight against him, drawing her head onto his chest as protectively and tenderly as he had with their daughter. The only other woman to have such a fierce hold over Sawyer's heart. The only other woman who Ana-Lucia was happy having such a hold over them man that she loved. "Guess not."

-oOo-