A/N: This will most likely be the last of the night. Have work tomorrow, but it is a short day so hopefully you won't have to wait too long. Thanks for the alerts and the reviews! Cupcakes to all!

Skye took Lucas' sleeping as an opportunity to finish cleaning him up. Now that he was out cold and already knew about her being there she hoped he wouldn't snap awake and have some sort of… reaction. It was also partly because she wanted to avoid any awkward moments between the two as she was tending to his body.

She put his knife back in the sheath attached to his hip and used her own to cut him out of his shirt, taking the remnants down to the water doing her best to clean them up and make them usable as makeshift rags. Skye gently cleaned around his gunshot wounds first; being especially careful not to put very much pressure on them, just enough to get the dirt away from the holes. She moved on to the other cuts and scrapes on his torso. Skye couldn't help but frown at the new scars that would soon mix with the old. She allowed her fingers to gingerly trace an older one that went across his abdomen, her mind taking her back to that night she convinced him to let Josh live, the night she might have exposed a little bit too much of her feelings.

"And this one?" she asked, dragging her finger along the light line that went from one side of the bottom of his stomach to the other. She lay beside him propped up on one elbow, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"That one," Lucas said softly as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, "That one my dear sister is boring. Pick another."

"But I want to know about this one," she teased, lightly tugging on the dark hairs just below his belly button.

"Bucket," he warned.

"Lucas-" she mimicked.

"Skye," he paused, "don't make me have to tell you twice."

"If it's really that boring, I don't see what the big deal is," she grinned. "Just tell me."

Without warning Lucas grabbed hold both her wrists and flipped her on her back, securing her hands above her head and bringing his face inches away from hers. His eyes flooded with rage and annoyance. Fear flashed in her bright blue eyes and her body stiffened beneath him.

"I said drop it, Bucket," he ground out between his teeth.

Lucas took a moment and focused on her features, scanning her face and taking notice of her fear. He secured her hands with just one of his and used the other to brush some stray curls behind her.

"It wasn't my intention to scare you, Skye," Lucas said, both his voice and his face softening. "Perhaps next time, okay?"

Skye nodded, resisting the urge to run out the room and never look back.

"That's a good girl," Lucas grinned. He let the hand restraining her wrists slide down her arm, glide softly over her cheek and come to rest behind her neck.

"I'll never get over how beautiful you are," he whispered; leaning in and letting his lips ghost over hers in an almost shy feather light kiss. He was more confident in the next kiss. His lips softly massaged her own in a surprisingly sweet manner. His tongue warm and sweet, slid against her bottom lip and Skye betrayed everything she knew was wrong and welcomed him in as he moaned lightly into her mouth. Her hands found themselves roaming through his hair and came to rest at the base of his neck, pulling him further into her.

She wanted nothing more than to stop. This was Lucas damnit, and it was sooo wrong, and yet it felt so good. He felt so good, right even, as if he was her missing puzzle piece. She tried reasoning that this was only to save her friend and it meant nothing to her, but that didn't stop her from moaning herself when his lips trailed down her neck and settled on the fabric of her bra, teasing the bud beneath.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and his arms went around her back; he sat up, pulling her into his lap. His opened mouthed kisses now at the hollow of her neck.

"Lucas," she whispered…

"Enjoying yourself, Bucket?" Lucas' tired voice pulled her back to reality and she inhaled sharply, quickly retracting her hand from his skin. How long had she been sitting there like that, remembering him the way she was, and feeling like, yes, yes, in fact she was quite enjoying herself. Until she remembered where they were and why.

"I..uh…I was just…uh…cleaning you up a little. Don't want you to get any worse off than you already are," she stammered with a nervous grin.

Lucas chuckled and then winced at the pain it brought to his injuries.

"Serves you right," Skye scolded, standing up and walking away from him, gathering up some more wood for their fire before settling down on a rock, facing away him.

"August, 2138," Lucas said softly.

"What?" She asked turning her head in his direction.

"You once asked me about that particular scar, you still want to know?" Lucas shifted slightly, grunting as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Lucas don't-" Skye said warningly, moving to his side.

"I'll be fine," he ground out. Lucas took a deep breath and locked his eyes on hers. "Now, Bucket, do you want to know or not?"

Skye nodded. "Why now," she asked cocking her head to the side.

"Because, Skye, you saved me. And I believe, unless I've forgotten my manners completely, that I should acknowledge that and give you something in return."

"I don't think that is how that works," Skye said with a contorted grin.

"Just shut up, Bucket before I change my mind."
Skye did as she was told, leaning back and crossing her legs in front of her.

"August, 2138,"

"Lucas I already know-" Skye interrupted him.

"No, Bucket! You don't!" Lucas yelled; she was certain he would have grabbed her if he had been able. He took a breath and began again. "They told my father he had to choose, me or my mother. And yes I know that you already know that," he said with glaring emerald eyes. "As you can imagine, Bucket, this wasn't an easy choice. They drew a knife on my mother," Lucas paused, sorrow flooding his eyes. He sighed, "My sweet beautiful mother. You remind me of her, you know, sometimes." He sighed again, "They held it to her neck, the blade, pressed hard enough to draw blood ; trying to force my father to make his decision. Another one drew a blade on me, but there was no pressing," Lucas shook his head, "oh, no, no, no, not for me. I got a quick slice to the belly, that's what I got."

"Lucas I-"

"There was so much blood," he laughed in disgust, staring out past the trees. "I was certain I was going to die, right then and there at fourteen years old. And I was also certain my mother would get to live. I was prepared to die for her, and if she were alive today, I would gladly lay down my life for her still."

Lucas took a breath and blinked slowly. "But then I heard my name. The great Nathaniel Taylor spoke my name and I was saved," he laughed harshly again before his voice dropped down to a whisper. "Just like that, Bucket. I was saved and my dear mother received a death sentence." He quickly brushed away the dampness that had begun to pool in the corner of his eyes.

"Happy now, Bucket."

"Of course not, Lucas," she replied not bothering to stop herself from placing a reassuring hand over his arm. "You didn't have to tell me you know."

"Yeah, well, I told you I would and I suppose now was as good a time as any," Lucas said with a sad smile. "And you do remind me of her, Skye," he said softly, tracing a line down her shoulder and letting it rest on her thigh. Leaning slightly into her.

"Lucas, don't. Please," Skye whispered.

He pulled back and sighed. "I'm not all bad, Bucket. I'd wish you realize that," he murmured more to himself than to her.

Skye got up and retrieved her pack, pulling out the small box of food that she had packed.

"Here," she said setting it down beside him. "Think you can sit all the way up?"

"Most likely," he grunted; attempting to do so.

"All right," she nodded. "Eat up, and take more isobiotics." Skye began to walk away from him.

"Are you leaving?" Lucas asked, failing to mask the urgency in his voice.

"No." Skye shook her head. "Just going for a walk; look for more wood, food, maybe wash up." She looked back at him. "Truth is Lucas, I can't leave, I can't go back there expecting to be welcomed with open arms. But we, on the other hand should be moving on as soon as you are able. Soon or a later Taylor will come looking for the both of us, and I'm sure we won't be wanting to run into him."