Stranded Part 3

Where do we go from here?

A/N: I do not own OTH or Lost.

Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm touched and surprised that there has been so much interest in the story. The pressure is on now and I hope I don't disappoint.

She felt a strong arm wrap around her as the sound of the waves crashing against the shore woke her up. She glanced sideways to find Lucas sound asleep, his head nuzzled into her arm. They must have fallen asleep like that she thought. There was something about him that she just couldn't figure out. She had pegged him as the typical "yuppie" yet so far he had proven her wrong at every turn. It was like she was waiting, wanting to find something wrong with him; a flaw so that she could push him away and stop being the snivelling girl she was being yesterday. Granted the circumstances were and are exceptional but for Peyton it was a moment of weakness that was not going to happen again.

She gently took his arm, taking care not to wake him and placed it in the gap between them. She needed her space. Shifting she groaned as the pain resurfaced sharp as a knife though luckily she had been too tired and drugged up to notice it during the night but today she was very aware of the throbbing. However, the swelling had gone down and she could actually see her ankle which was a plus.

She looked out along at the long horizon where a thin blue strip was the only thing separating heaven and hell and to her it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a yearning to capture the moment on paper crept in but she would have to without. So she just closed her eyes and drew it in her mind finishing off the art with the caption Tragically Beautiful : two words that could be used to sum up Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer.

Her thoughts went back to last night – the topic of starting over came to mind. What she really wanted to do today was give the people lying on the beach peace of mind, partly to cleanse her soul of the guilt she felt for not helping them in the way she should've and when they needed it the most.

The melancholic was stifling her so she turned her attention to the boy next to her.

She prodded Lucas. "Wake up."

Nothing.

She prodded harder which garnered a reaction that she was not expecting.

"Mum, stop poking. Five more minutes." He whined.

Bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, she watched in amazement as he turned over and started snoring again.

Five minutes later, he woke up mumbling "I'm up I'm up." The poor boy was still dazed and confused, his blonde hair all over the place; he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stretched his limbs.

She watched him, waiting for him to properly wake up before saying good morning.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he said groggily, his throat parched with thirst. He grabbed the water bottle and took a swig then politely offered some to Peyton. She gladly accepted; screwing the cap back on she asked him how he slept.

"Like a log. You?"

"Same."

There was a moment of silence which harvested awkwardness as the blondes had nothing else to say. How could they seeing as they were strangers who had only just met yesterday.

Ask her about her ankle

"How's the ankle" he asked pointing to it.

"It's better today but it still hurts. I should be able to be more active today." Sh said in a pleased manner.

"I don't think that's a good idea" he said matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" she said in a annoyed tone raising one eyebrow and crossing her arms in a defensive position; she hated people telling her what to do let alone men.

"Because you should let it heal properly before anything. We don't know how long it will take for the rescue team to find us."

"If they do," she snorted.

Noticing her pissy body language which he thought was bratty because he only had her well-being in mind he decided to stop being Mr. Nice Guy and bring out the Alpha Scott-ness that he was renowned for on Wall Street. "As I was saying," he said unimpressed by the glass is half empty interruption. "You don't want to aggravate the sprain and be on you ass all day whilst I'm running around doing all the work, do you? So just do as you're told. And as for the rescue team, you miss stewardess should know that all planes have a black box so it's only a matter of time before they find us and we can be on our separate way." He had a smug look on his face as he eyeballed the blonde, not one to step down from a staring match.

Peyton could feel her blood boiling making her face increasingly redder as Lucas continued acting like the jackass she always knew he was. She crossed her arms tighter and being the stubborn girl she was gave him the deadliest evil stare; if looks could kill Lucas would be six feet under.

"First off, it's Peyton but it's not like you even bothered to ask. Secondly, you were the one asking if you could do anything yesterday and last but not least I'm sorry that the plane just happened to crash and I sprained my ankle in the process," she said in a mock apologetic tone "so fuck off!"

Peyton had wiped the smug expression right off Lucas's face. He raised his hands. "Gladly," he huffed and stormed off across the beach trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

Their first fight was akin to a summer storm that suddenly appears out of nothing with vehement passion and anger only to pass just as quickly leaving clear blue skies, crisp freshness and above all clarity.