I was getting bored. Nothing was going on. Some guys had come up with a golf course, but I wasn't much of a golfer. I missed my step classes at my gym and I missed being able to show and get my nails done. My great dane Rocko was staying with my brother and his wife, and I hoped he hadn't eaten them out of house and home.

The sand felt nice as I piled it up and tried to make a sand castle. It was close to sunset, and there was something about the moment that I thought would make a good setting for a travel commercial. My turret crumbled repeatedly. Giving up momentarily, I sat back and stared at the colors in the sky.

"Construction problems?" a voice came.

I turned and watched Sayid walk over. He promptly plopped down next to me and reached for wet sand.

"Haven't seen you all day," I said. "Been off building something to get us rescued? G.P.S. tracker or something, I'm sure?" I nudged him.

He rolled his eyes. "If only. Every attempt we've made so far has failed or has been sabotaged." I watched as his hand smoothed down the top of my castle wall. He scooped up wet sand and packed it against my crumbled wall. His hands were smooth and unscarred. Mine were scraped up from lugging a camera around the world.

"There," Sayid said. "Reinforced and ready to withstand an enemy invasion."

In a flash of yellow fur, the castle was a pile of sand.

I laughed and petted Vincent as he stood panting in the remains of our sand castle. "The enemy invaders are getting cuter."

Sayid looked up and smiled. "Yes, they are."

"Hey," I said. "I am not the enemy here! I've never invaded anything in my life."

Sayid chuckled. "Of course not. Not Anya." He patted Vincent before the dog trotted away. "I care for you," he said softly.

I was taken aback. "What?"

"Even from the moment I met you. On the plane, I could tell you were not judging me, not assuming I would blow up the plane." He ran his hand over the sand.

I grinned. "Of course not. The jerk next to me was cause for concern, though. I still think that's why we're here." I laughed. "You never know, those white guys are pretty suspicious."

He reached out and stroked my bottom lip with his finger. "I do care for you."

I grabbed his hand. "I know." I had enough of his politeness. He was going to tell me that he cared for me, then be a gentleman and go back to his shelter.
Yet his next move shocked me. His hand dropped to my shoulder. He fiddled with the strap of my tank top, then paused. "I have no intention of hurting you. Perhaps I should,"

"No." I sat up, straddled his lap, and sank down onto my knees.

His hands found their way to my hips. "Anya," he breathed.

I brushed my lips against his, testing the waters. He exhaled in a short pant. His breath was sweet. I ran my hands over his abs, up his chest, then clutched his shirt.
He ran his hands up my back, pushing my tank top up and out of the way. I shivered at the touch and arched my back. I involuntarily sank an eye tooth into my bottom lip to suppress a moan. Sayid was strong. He pulled me in and pressed my body against his. We were both breathing hard in anticipation. Our lips met. His kiss was passionate and soft, but his muscles were hard. His arms around me were holding me there tight, but his tongue flicked against mine gently. The kiss was warm and deep. I pressed my tongue into his hungrily, wanting more of him. I buried my hands in his hair and tightened around fistfuls of it. We fell back into the sand.

A scream from somewhere along the beach made us both sit up straight and look toward the source of the noise.