"So, who were you before you were Sawyer?" asked Kate as Sawyer picked out a tiny bottle and shook it. "I mean, what was your real name?"

"Who was I?" Sawyer asked, twisting off the cap. "Can't remember. Don't think I was anybody before I was Sawyer." He lifted the bottle as if to drink from it, but then, "No," he took the little bottle from his lips and indicated towards her with it, "I was a confused little kid. That's who I was before I was Sawyer. A confused little kid with no parents." He did not lift the bottle back to his lips, but just held it in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Sawyer." Kate said, staring at the sand at her feet. She sat down. "I'm not trying to rain on your moment of misery," she said, "but I didn't exactly have parents, either. I was a bad little girl brought up in a bad home."

"At least you had a home," Sawyer pointed out. "No one wanted to adopt me. I sounded like too much of a basket case. Dad shot my mother and then shot himself; kids who go through that kind of stuff aren't exactly right, you know?" He glanced down at her as if to see her agreeing heartily, but she was just staring at the sand.

"Yeah, but you could hardly call it a home." Kate pointed out. "My parents were both horrible people. Couldn't treat a child right if you paid them. Well, maybe if you paid them enough," Kate added as an afterthought, and Sawyer chuckled a bit.

"Well, you turned out pretty damn okay," Sawyer pointed out.

"You think I turned out okay?" Kate smiled. "I was on this plane to get me over to the US where they could give me a taste of justice and arrest me for my crime. Somehow I don't think that good parents would produce a felon like me."

"Solitude'll do the same thing for ya." Sawyer told her. "I ain't exactly got a clean slate when it comes to the law." He twisted the cap back onto the little bottle. "In fact," he added, "you and I have something in common."

Kate glanced up at him, her eyes filled with modest interest. "Yeah," said Sawyer, looking down at her and smiling, "we're both jailbirds."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all." Kate laughed.

"Yeah," agreed Sawyer, smiling, "Just a day or so before I broke out and got onto this plane, I saw our friend Boone up at the cop house."

"Boone?" asked Kate, looking over at Shannon sunbathing. "What was he in there for?"

"Oh he wasn't in there," said Sawyer, "he was reporting somethin'. Or somebody. I dunno. But it was definitely him."

Kate smiled, turning to look at Sawyer. "You know," she said, "you're starting to grow on me. I don't know why."

"That's a first." Sawyer smiled.

"Yeah," Kate said, her voice beginning to soften, "I think you're starting to grow on me very, very much." She moved closer to him.

"That could be a good thing," Sawyer agreed, moving closer to her.

"Yeah." agreed Kate. "It could be a really... good..."

Their faces were almost touching now. Kate closed her eyes and readied her lips. Sawyer moved in just a little further. She wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss her, too. He had always wanted to kiss her. He closed his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly, and their lips neared...

"HELP! ETHAN'S BACK!"

Both snapped back to their senses as this frantic cry was heard from the jungle. A split second later, Charlie burst through the underbrush with almost the animosity of a cartoon, a spray of leaves flying in his wake, screaming at the top of his voice, "ETHAN! ETHAN'S BACK! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Kate sprang to her feet and rushed to Charlie, who was running in frantic circles up and down the beach, trying to get help. "Charlie!" she exclaimed, "Charlie! Charlie, stop!" She grabbed his wrist and he ran past her, jerking her, and skidded to a halt, sand flying in a cascade. With a shocked outburst Charlie fell onto his rear in the sand. By now he had attracted the attention of more than just Kate. Locke was starting slowly over with a tool in one hand; Sayid and Shannon had looked up from their flirtatious chat; a stray cluster of other survivors were staring at him; even Sawyer had turned in his chair to see.

"Charlie," Kate said softly, and he turned to her with wild, frightened eyes. "What is –?"

"It's Ethan he's back and he wants to kill Claire." Charlie stated, all in one scared breath, "I need someone to help me or else he's going to kill one of us."

Kate glanced up at Sawyer, who was smiling. She gave him a skeptical look, and he just shrugged, screwed open the lid of his vodka bottle, and drank it. "You know," she said, "if he does kill one of us, I hope it's Sawyer."

Sawyer almost choked on his drink, but, nodding, he swallowed and turned back to Kate. "You know," he said humorously, still nodding, "me too."

"I'm serious!" Charlie exclaimed. "You have to help me – somebody has to help me – we have to protect Claire. All he wants is Claire and we have to protect her." Eyes as large as saucers searched Kate's serious face. "You have to help me."

"Sounds like the boogey man," Sawyer commented, tossing the little empty bottle on the floor of his camp and setting the cooler aside. "Are you sure you didn't just dream this whole thing up, Chah-lie?" He smiled as Charlie glared at his imitation of the small Rock God's accent.

"Shut up, Sawyer." Kate instructed him.

"I did not dream it up." Charlie growled. "I saw him, and I was threatened – you think I don't know it when someone's hand is around my neck?" He took a deep breath and glanced over at Locke. "Please," he pleaded, "I need someone to help me."

Locke nodded. "Okay," he agreed.

"I think we'll all try to help you as best we can." Kate told him, staring at Sawyer, who smirked and shook his head.

Charlie stood up shakily, and Kate let go of his arm. "Good," he said. "Let's go." He disappeared into the woods; Locke followed, and Kate glanced once more at Sawyer before following as well.

"Freaks." Sawyer laughed. "What kinda moron comes back fer a pregnant girl?"