"Des," she panted for breath, her forehead resting against his, "Desmond, wait."

Desmond almost hadn't heard her. They were against the kitchen door, her back against it and his arms surrounding her as if to prevent escape. But as soon as he heard her request he pulled away with hesitance and allowed her freedom.

She caught her breath, watching his own chest rise and fall quickly. He stared at her, somewhat bewildered and surprised at his own actions. She swallowed anxiously, "I'm sorry, Des. I can't."

He shook his head briskly. "No, I'm sorry, Claire." He hoped she didn't think any less of him. "I didn't mean -"

"Nor did I, it's okay. I just…I don't think this is a good idea." She still felt out of breath even now. "It would just make everything more complicated and I just don't think we should…I'm so sorry." Her cheeks burned hotter than ever before.

"I understand, really. Honestly, I didn't intend for that to happen." Had he imagined it? Yes. Intended for it to happen in reality? No. Not like this. For exactly this reason.

Claire seemed flustered. "Right. I'm so sorry. I need to…I need to go to bed. Uh, alone. By myself. Right. I'm sorry, goodnight," she babbled, and she disappeared in to her bedroom, the door slamming shut.

Outside Desmond bit down hard on his tongue and punched the air with frustration. His hands met his face and he shook his head with embarrassment. That had been absolute perfection and disaster at the same time. She had been everything he thought her to be, and more. How desperately he wanted to go in there and finish that kiss. But he wouldn't. Not if Claire didn't want him to. She was right, it would make everything complicated. They lived together, she had a son she needed to take care of. And somehow Desmond couldn't shake the feeling that in someway, somehow, this was partly Charlie's fault.

It was almost 10pm at night by the time Charlie returned. Earlier than usual, but still late. He hadn't been with Claire tonight, but had found company in the bitterly satisfying taste of the endless glasses of alcohol Lisa the barmaid continued to serve him at his request. After several minutes of trying to stab his key through the keyhole, the door swung open and a dark, powerful glare settled upon him.

"Oh, for God's sake."

Ana let him stumble through the door and she crossed her arms angrily.

"Do I even have to ask what you got up to after your shift?"

"Just had a few drinks, tha'ssall," he slurred miserably, collapsing on to the sofa, where he knew he would be spending the night.

"Something happen at work?" she asked bitterly, slamming the front door shut.

"No," he pouted childishly, slouching in his seat. "A girl asked me for my autograph."

"Poor girl," she muttered, heading towards the closet. "She must be deranged."

Charlie ignored her, fell on to his back, and complained of feeling nauseous. Ana had already fetched a bucket and dropped it on the floor beside him, as she did last time she found him drunk.

"What was it you were saying the other day about stability?" she scorned as she looked down on him.

He frowned and looked up at her like a small child who had lost their favourite toy. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit down beside him. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance.

"D…do you believe," he stammered, "that there is one person for everyone? Whassit called?" he mumbled hazily. "True love?" He laughed bitterly and Ana stared at him as if he were insane.

"Excuse me?"

She noticed his pink eyes swell and she looked away so he could preserve whatever dignity he had left. This guy was the father of her child. Pathetic.

"You know," he squeezed her wrist, "when you're…you're destined to be with one person annit's meant to be."

"No," she felt his sweaty hands start to burn her skin. "I don't. And if you do then you're an idiot."

He closed his eyes in anguish. "Ughh, I am an idiot. Such a SODDING idiot," he clutched his stomach, then his head. "And I drank too much. Idiot!"

She sighed, "I'll get you some water."

When she returned he pulled her down again and she had to set the glass on the coffee table before she spilled it all over him. "What now?"

He smiled a sickly drunken smile at her and placed a loose stand of her hair behind her ear, before smoothing his hand down her cheek, neck, arm and finally down the curve of her hip which felt pleasant against his hot palm. This made her tremble slightly. "I was just wondering', " he began sleepily, "What it would be like if I had been in love with you."

She stared at him with surprise yet disdain and pity. "Like I said, you're an idiot." Though she insulted him with less force in her voice. "And you're wasted." He responded to this with ironic laughter before he had to dip his head in the bucket and feel his stomach contract painfully. Ana rolled her eyes and pulled away from him. "Goodnight," she spat before turning off the lights and leaving the drunken mess in darkness.

Claire Littleton hugged herself tightly as she lay awake in bed. She tossed and turned and tried to sleep, but she couldn't stop replaying the evening's events in her head. She still tasted Desmond's thick and pleasant lips, felt the ghost of his touch on her body. She bit her lip, turned on her back and imagined the hot Scotsman returning to finish what he had started.

A knock at the door. Her mouth dropped. It flew open and there was Des; topless, bulging with muscles, a hungry look in his eye.

He approached her silently, seriously, and took hold of her almost viciously. It was impossible to speak, for the man had pressed his lips to hers and pushed her down on to her bed. She hadn't resisted, and responded by wrapping herself around him and returning his passionate kisses.

It was then she sat up, her body drenched in sweat, and she realised she was alone. She breathed deeply and felt her heart recovering. It had been a dream, that was all. A dirty, shameful dream. She considered getting herself a glass of cold water and pouring it all over herself. Instead, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned miserably. How awful she could be!

Meanwhile, Charlie lay his head on the arm of the sofa, shaking violently every now and again. The nausea had currently ceased and he took this as a chance to attempt drifting of to sleep. But his mind whirred and buzzed like a mechanical machine, tormenting him with reminders of all the hopes and dreams he had successfully managed to destroy. He had taken his own advice and had tried to stay positive, but every now and again the reality caught up with him and he needed a night off to escape. That always landed him in trouble. It was thinking like that which had started this fiasco in the first place.

He frowned deeply and inhaled, rubbing at his sore eyes with his sleeve. He knew if Claire had shown up he wouldn't have needed an alternative escape, but he missed her like hell and a wave of self-pity and regret told him his brain needed a break. It hadn't helped much, but at least it distracted him if not only for a short while. He clutched his burning head and winced, hoping that Claire, whatever she was doing, was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

The next morning Claire awoke earlier than usual, a lump in her throat. She had managed to sleep after all, but after her first dream her imagination had begun to present her with more disturbing images. She stretched in her bed as the morning sun shone through the window and she began to remember more and more of her previous dreams. Frowning, she grabbed her journal and decided to write them down, along with her experiences from the previous night.

Once she had scribbled down her encounters with Desmond (real and dream), she bit her lip and started to recall her last dream.

I dreamt I was back on that scary island again. Charlie was there. I dreamt that he had died and I was so miserable. I cried and cried. I cried the whole ocean. I don't remember Aaron being there. I remember being alone. And I missed Charlie so much. I cried so much I felt so exhausted when I woke up. I wonder if this is a reflection of my feelings for him. So many times I've considered ending this thing between us. But whenever I think about never seeing him again I feel like screaming in to my pillow. I love him too much to lose him. But I can't be with him. Not properly.

This sucks.

She placed the diary safely back in her draw, fearing the reactions of any one else who might read it and discover her dark secrets. She lay back and spread herself across her bed for a moment, taking advantage of it's large comfortable size. She could lie here all day she decided. She wouldn't have to face anyone, or lie to anyone, or be someone's mummy. She could just relax and be herself.

A strange thump snapped her out of her thoughts and any fantasies of lazing away in bed vanished. She slipped on her thin dressing gown and left her bedroom to investigate. The source appeared to be her own son, who was covered in baby food and had thrown his beaker on the floor, giggling with amusement. Claire entered the kitchen to see Desmond frantically grabbing bits of kitchen roll to wipe the mess away and attempt to feed the little infant.

"Des?" she asked, screwing up her face with confusion.

Des spun around and his features formed an apologetic expression. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Aaron was hungry and, well, I was trying to feed him."

She laughed, "I can see that."

"Seems like he's more interested in wearing his food then eating it," he explained, trying to get Aaron to open his mouth and eat the contents on the little silver spoon.

Aaron pursed together his little lips and shook his head vigorously, "No!" he cried, "No! No! No!"

"There he goes again," Desmond sighed, "Why 'No', Little Man? I thought you were hungry!"

Aaron screwed up his chubby fist, "No." And then he giggled. Claire giggled too.

"It's okay. Let me," she said taking the spoon, "Come on Aaron, here comes the - dare I say it - aeroplane!"

"Let's hope THIS one gets to its proper destination," Des joked ironically. Miraculously, Aaron opened his mouth and the baby-food-plane arrived safely in his little tummy. Claire kissed his fluffy head and fed him the rest.

"Good boy, Love ya," she rubbed his head lovingly and started to clear up.

Desmond stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sleep well?" he asked Claire after clearing his throat.

She swallowed nervously and nodded, "Uh-huh. You?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied with a small shrug, "I, uh…I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"It's okay, Des. No need to explain."

"I feel as though I should. I am so sorry that happened, honestly. I don't want you to think I'm…taking advantage or something. And I certainly don't want to complicate anything for you."

"It's okay, I understand," she blushed, "We were both drinking, and silly, and we should have been more responsible for our actions. It's fine, really. It meant nothing." She hardly looked at him.

He nodded and forced a sad smile, "Right. Exactly." He observed her washing up, with those silly yellow gloves on, and he stepped outside to take a shower.

Claire sighed and glanced at the baby getting agitated in his high chair. He wasn't the only one feeling such frustration.

Ana awoke to the sound of a baby's screech, and she buried her head in the pillow hoping that the hung-over father would deal with it. Apparently not. She waited five minutes until she couldn't take it anymore. She sprang up and walked quickly towards the tiny child's room, passing a half-dead Charlie clutching his head on the way.

"Alright!" she yelled. "Alright, I'm here! What is it? What do you want?"

The baby's pink features were screwed up so tightly, she hardly looked human anymore. Her cheeks were damp and the tears continued to stream down her face. Ana looked at it expectantly, as if the baby would simply stop crying and tell her what it was that was the matter. Clueless, she picked up the child so that her hands grabbed her under the armpits and realised that she most likely needed changing.

Ana wrinkled her nose in disgust and placed Paige back in her crib. She looked around frantically, her hands in the air as if they were now germ-ridden. At that moment, Charlie floated in sleepily, rubbing his sore eyes.

"Where are the diapers?" she asked him, "Are we out?"

Charlie's shoulders fell in realisation and he leant against the door frame lazily, rubbing at his nose and breathing in the morning air, "I think she used the last one yesterday. I can get some more if you like."

Ana felt her heart beat. Perfect. "No," she told him, "I'll get them." she practically ran towards the door. "Deal with her!" she called, throwing on her jeans and jacket before disappearing from the flat.

The sound of the door slamming mixed with the infant's annoying screaming made his head burn even more. He'd have to take some pills before he went to Ana's session later. Great, he thought, was that such a good idea? Oh well. No turning back now. Charlie leant over the crib and smiled, tickling the child's tiny little chin, "Hey, shhh. Don't cry. New nappies are on the way," he reassured her, not that she understood what he was saying. But she calmed all the same and grabbed on to his finger in such a way that he began to feel an emotional lump in his throat. That was apparently enough to make him forget about his hangover altogether.

Desmond tried to cleanse himself of his previous thoughts and actions, scrubbing at his warm skin and wiping away the lingering feeling of Claire's touch. He felt terribly embarrassed to have caused such awkwardness between them, and even more embarrassed knowing that Claire had completely regretted it. As much as Des tried to deny it, there was a part of him that was glad to have finally kissed the beautiful Australian woman. So often had he observed her and imagined such an encounter. But obviously the timing, the situation, was all horribly wrong. Or, of course, she didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her. Perhaps that kiss had been a moment of weakness for her and the connection and attraction between them had been utterly one-sided. Desmond bit the inside of his cheek and felt the warm water pour down his body.

He got quite a shock when he stepped out the shower and reached for a towel. Before he got a chance to cover himself up, the door swung open and he saw Claire walk in, oblivious to Desmond's presence. When she glanced up they both gasped and Claire's hand flew up to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry!" she squealed, covering her eyes and feeling her way back out the bathroom. Desmond wrapped the towel around his waist and reassured her that it was okay as the door slammed shut.

Claire leant against the other side of it and felt her face flush redder than ever before. After a moment, she bit down on her bottom lip with amusement, thinking back to what she saw, and giggled to herself like a schoolgirl.

"It was totally irresponsible and you have my word that it will never happen again," promised Charlie as he finished changing the gurgling infant on the table in front of him. "There you go," he said softly to the baby."All nice and clean!"

"You said that last time," mumbled Ana-Lucia as she watched from a safe distance. "About the drinking. And it's happened again."

"Well I'm serious this time," he replied before tapping Paige's tiny nose and placing her gently back in to her crib. He faced Ana seriously. "I feel terrible about it. It was selfish of me. It won't happen again."

"I'm not mad, I get why you did it," she shrugged. "Sometimes I feel like hitting the bar and losing myself in a few drinks - and don't worry, I won't…I'd just prefer that you weren't out spending money on getting wasted while I'm stuck here with…" she sighed, "our kid."

"Like I said," he insisted, "It's not going to happen again. I've got it under control. I swear."

"Alight," she shrugged before leaving the room to head in to the kitchen area. "If you say so."

"And, uh, I'm still coming to your session today. Just reminding you," he said, wiping his hands clean.

"Perfect. I'm looking forward to it," she muttered with sarcasm whilst she poured herself a bowl of cornflakes - the last in the box, "By the way, whatever you find out in that session…I don't wanna talk about it anywhere else, okay?"

"It sounds serious," Charlie replied, leaning against the kitchen counter opposite from her. "Are you sure you want to do this? Can't we just….talk here?"

"What did I just say?" she frowned deeply, almost slamming the empty box down on to his hand. "No, we'll do the session, get it over with. You'll know everything you need to and we then can just pretend it never happened."

"Alright," he said slowly with a small shrug. "If that's what you want."

"I'll call my mom and check if she can still look after the baby," she sighed as she grabbed the phone. "Unfortunately she's a busy woman. Doing her job, being useful."

"She's not a full-time mum to three-month-old at the moment," Charlie pointed out.

"Lucky her."

Charlie frowned at the comment before turning his back and dropping himself in to his computer chair. He was curious as to what this session was going to be about. On the one hand, he was happy that Ana-Lucia seemed to be opening up to him and that he might find out why she was acting so cold. Of course, Charlie was used to her behaviour. But maybe communicating to her about it in this session may fix whatever problems they had. But on the other hand, he was somewhat afraid of what he might find out.

His thoughts once again moved on to Claire and he turned to his computer.

Charlie has just signed in.

Claire has just signed in.

Charlie: Nice timing.

Claire: What?

Charlie: Nothing. You weren't at the bar last night.

Claire: Oh, yeah, I'm so sorry about that. I lost track of time.

Charlie: What on earth were you doing, anyway? Playing Scrabble with the Scottish Prophet?

Claire: What if I was?

Charlie: Then I'd question why you'd rather spend your time with him rather than me.

Claire: You're doing it again.

Charlie: What?

Claire: Being paranoid.

Charlie: Right.

Claire: You know I'd have been with you if I could.

Charlie: I know. I just missed you.

Claire: Me too. How about we meet up tonight?

Charlie: Love to.

Claire: Good, then it's sorted.

Charlie: Yep.

Claire: How are things with you today anyway?

Charlie: Wonderful. She's stopped yelling, is calm for once and isn't giving me a hard time…yet.

Claire: Oh right, and how's Paige?

Charlie: I was talking about Paige.

Claire: Oh!

Charlie: Honestly, Claire!

Claire: Sorry, you have so many girls in your life right now!

Charlie: Usually I would be quite happy about that.

Claire: I'm sure you would be, Casanova.

Charlie: You haven't told me, how's my little mate Aaron?

Claire: He's fine. He's playing with his polar bear. I was going to join him in a minute.

Charlie: I can't believe how big he's getting. I remember when he was born!

Claire: I wonder how many women can say they've given birth in the middle of the jungle.

Charlie: Probably not many.

Claire: Just proves how awesome I am.

Charlie: You are, you're an amazing mum. I don't know how you do it.

Claire: You're a good dad.

Charlie: Yeah?

Claire: Of course you are.

Charlie: I was thinking about Ana. The therapy session is today.

Claire: I hope you work something out. You know, she's a new mum. It's hard for some people. She'll get used to it.

Charlie: I guess I'll find out what's going on with her later. In the meantime I have some time to kill. I suppose I'll look up stuff on the internet I can't afford.

Claire: Are you just going to surf the net and buy everything you missed while we were stranded on that island?

Charlie: Hell yeah! Why do you think I have 15 boxes of banoffee pie in my kitchen?

Claire: Funny.

Charlie: Nah, I can't anyway. We're skint. Can't even afford these bloody amazing amps on eBay let alone a house. How I missed amplified sound!

Claire: Sorry to hear that, Charlie.

Charlie: It's fine. I've been broke before.

Claire: Except this time you have two other people to support.

Charlie: You just ruined my optimism.

Claire: Oops!

Charlie: It's okay, it's true anyway.

Charlie: I better go. Ana's mum is here.

Claire: Bye. Love you.

Charlie: And I love you. See you tonight!

Charlie has gone offline.

Claire closed her laptop and sighed to herself sadly. She felt as though she were lying to Charlie by not telling him about her kiss with Desmond. Even though she told herself it was nothing, she still had the urge to confide in someone. It seemed the only person she could talk to about anything was Charlie, and occasionally Des depending on what the subject was, but the only way she stopped herself from going crazy was writing down her feelings in her diary. Obviously, she couldn't discuss her recent problems with Charlie or Desmond, and she barely talked to Kate, Sun, or Hurley anymore. None of them used the internet as often as she and Charlie so an occasional phone call on birthdays and holidays was all she got.

She almost jumped when Desmond poked his head round the corner of the door, a sheepish expression on his face. "I was wondering if you wanted any lunch. PB&J sandwiches sound alright?"

She felt a smile emerge. "It sounds perfect." Des smiled too and she followed him in to the kitchen, past Aaron who was sucking his thumb and holding the toy polar bear close to his cheek. She smiled at the image before entering the kitchen and watching Des prepare the lunch.

She wet her lips and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Des, I'm so sorry about earlier. I forgot you were in there, honestly. I'm so embarrassed."

Des glanced at her briefly as he set out the bread. "Don't be. I'm not."

She swallowed and wrinkled her nose. "Really?

"Sure, it was only an accident, right?" He smiled at her and began to spread the peanut butter on the bread. "And it's not like I've got anything to hide," he chuckled, "Seriously, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Claire stuck out her lower lip, perplexed, her forehead creased, "Uh…good. I'll make sure to knock next time."

He laughed and handed her one of the sandwiches. "Enjoy."

She took it gratefully and dug in immediately. "Mmmm. Can never get enough of this stuff." She took her plate in to the next room and sat on the sofa near Aaron.

"I wonder if he'll be as obsessed with peanut butter as you are," Des indicated to the boy as he sat down next to Claire.

"I'm not obsessed," she pouted, mouth full.

"It's like an addiction," he teased.

"Mmmffff," she responded incoherently, mouth stuffed.

Desmond chuckled and took a bite of his own sandwich. Claire watched him and couldn't help picturing the image she had seen of him not long before. It shouldn't have surprised her why he wasn't embarrassed about her accidentally walking in on him, with him looking the way he did. She questioned how Penny could have ever let this gorgeous man out of her sight. She averted her gaze, telling herself she was falling in to that trap again. Perhaps she still needed that cold glass of water to throw over herself after all.

"Ah, Charlie! It's great to see you here again," Doctor Finley's smiling face welcomed him. But Charlie grimaced.

"What a terrible thing for a therapist to say," he said, shaking the man's hand before sitting down next to Ana-Lucia who looked as though she were trying to disappear inside herself. Charlie knew how she felt. Even his inappropriate humour didn't stop his stomach turning or his heart racing inside his chest.

Doctor Finley sat down behind his desk and examined the two individuals in front of him. Charlie, obviously oblivious to why he was here, sat back, his leg crossed over his thigh and his fingers somewhat nervously in his mouth. Ana-Lucia, who knew very well what she was going to confess today, had a frown on her. She was slumped low in her chair, her hands tapping on the arms of the seat, her leg, as a contrast, rooted to the floor. The doctor knew he had his work cut out for him today. He exhaled, glanced down briefly, and began the session.

"I'm not sure how much Ana has told you about this session, Charlie, but I believe it's very important to the both of you that you hear what she has to say."

"Alright," Charlie replied slowly, becoming more concerned by the second.

The doctor raised a hand towards her, "Ana?" He noticed her unease. "Take your time."

She sighed and hesitated, her eyes scanning the floor as if to search for a trap door she could escape down. Charlie's voice pulled her back in to reality, reminding her that there was no escape. "What is it?" he asked her, looking at her now with worried eyes.

She frowned and fidgeted slightly. She remained silent.

"Just, please, tell me," Charlie urged, "This has been driving me crazy." He turned to the doctor with agitation. "She never tells me anything. She's been this constant mystery ever since we met!"

Ana chewed on her lip and felt all her troubles, memories, feelings bubble up in her mind. "You know, I didn't always used to be like this." Charlie turned to her now, engaged in her words and eager to hear what she had to say. She swallowed and looked at him. "I used to be happy. I had a life!" Charlie looked like a child who had just been chastised, but let her continue.

She rubbed her eyes, debating with herself how to tell the gruelling story. She had only told it two or three times herself. It wasn't something she liked to talk about. But obviously Doctor Finley disagreed with her tactic to block the memory out by pretending it never happened. "I worked for LAPD before the crash, as you know. I had a boyfriend. Danny," she almost smiled at the memory of him before she remembered what an abandoning scumbag he really was. Hadn't even bothered to look her up after the rescue. Perhaps he never really loved her after all. She cleared her throat. "One night I get a call about a burglary. So I respond and check it out." She shook her head, "This guy runs out the front of the house. I tell him to put his hands up." Charlie noted that her breathing rate had increased. He shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. She inhaled deeply. She felt sick.

"It's okay, Ana," Doctor Finley encouraged her. "Go on."

"He tells me he's a student," there was hate in her voice now, "So he reaches for his ID. To this day, I have no idea what possessed me to let him. But I still let him. Like a moron, I let him. Just for one second. And that's all it took, one damn second," she felt her heartbeat in her gut, booming painfully, felt it in her ears, her brain. "He pulls out a gun and shoots me right here," she pointed at an area on her belly. Charlie watched her, shock in his expression. But what she said next stunned him so that he was truly paralysed with astonishment. She told him, with a mixture of hate and distress in her voice, that she had been pregnant at the time. "Kid saved my life," she muttered. "But I lost it. I was supposed to….you know, I could have…." she pursed her lips together before rolling her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "Can we stop this now?"

Doctor Finley leant forward, "Ana-"

"No," she snapped, standing up. "That's it. I'm finished. I did what you told me to," she barely looked at Charlie. "I'm not saying anymore. I need to leave." She grabbed her bag and her jacket and stormed out, leaving Charlie wide-eyed in his seat, lips parted as if struggling to speak. He pushed back his hair, blinking, mind racing.

"Should I…get her back?" he asked after a moment or two of speechlessness.

"No, it's better she takes a break," the doctor assured him,."This was hard for her to admit to you. But I made her recognise it would be better for both of you if you knew the truth."

"I'm sure it will be…" Charlie said quietly. "Once I…absorb all of it. I just…I…can't believe she kept this from me." Suddenly Charlie felt guilty for everything he had said to her, done to her, in contempt. Even this situation they had put themselves in with the baby, he felt tremendously awful for it.

"As I understand it, she's kept this from most people. It's something she's had to live with, struggle with, alone. She's told me you two have been having problems, and I hoped this would build a level of trust between you." Charlie felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he realised this man probably knew almost every aspect of his and Ana's relationship.

"I need to talk to her. Or just take all of this in," he rambled anxiously. "What I think I'm saying is, I need to get out of this room."

"I understand. If you want to come along and see me, with Ana, or even by yourself, I can arrange an appointment for you."

"Thanks," Charlie replied, though he didn't intend to take him up on that offer - not at all. He forced a smile as he got to his feet and escaped out of the front door.

TBC

A/N: Thank you SO much everyone for your reviews! There will be plenty Daire stuff/Chana stuff/PB&J stuff to come! :)