Chapter 5

"So...what? We're just gonna sit here all night, staring at each other?" Sawyer commented dryly. Itraya was seated in front of him, bound at the wrists, and knees as ordered.

In the hour they had been together she had already spat at him and missed, and hit him on the face with her bound hands twice. He was more wary now, keeping a little distance between them, and aggravating her with words, waiting for her to snap and start talking.

"Not that I mind, I'm a silent guy. And the view is pretty nice from this angle." He said, tilting his head a bit, and running his eyes over her loose tank top. She glared at him, and if looks could kill, he knew his heart would have stopped beating about an hour ago. But still he pressed on.

"We can do this all night, cricket. And in fact, probably will, considering the good doctor has made it quite clear that I'm not to get closer than striking distance of you."

She smirked, and continued to be silent.

Sawyer sighed exasperatedly. And looked down absently at the tether that was tied around his wrist and hers. Grinning mischievously, he got an idea. He glanced innocently back at Itraya, who was balanced on her knees before him, and gave the tether a little tug.

She rocked forwards, as he knew she would, and put out her hands to catch herself if she fell. He tugged again, and again she rocked forwards. Sawyer smiled when she looked at him, the malice and anger growing in her eyes. He tugged once more, harder this time, while she was distracted with his face...

And down she went. She caught herself on her bent elbows, then turned to the side, so it looked like she was still kneeling, only laying down. She huffed, but didn't say anything. She pushed herself slowly back up, and kneeled again. Glaring at Sawyer's smiling face.

He tugged the tether again. She rocked. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, and Sawyer stopped next mid-tug. But Itraya only closed her mouth and jerked on the tether herself, throwing her weight into it, and toppling backwards.

Sawyer went sprawling, she hear him hit with a thud, then spit the sand out of his mouth, and curse. She laughed scornfully.

Then his face loomed above her own, "Oh...she does have a voice! And here I was starting to get worried." He said with cold sarcasm. And she stared up at him, the laughter gone from her face.

"Here! Let me help you up!" Sawyer continued, and swooped down, gathering her into his arms. She looked at him in shock, as he carried her over to his makeshift bed, and dropped her. But the look was soon masked with one of contempt as he sat down beside her.

"Come on! Just say something. Say your own damn name for all I care! Go on and say you're really a boar in women's clothing!" He bellowed, between clenched teeth. And she swung her legs up behind him and kicked as hard as she could.

He went sprawling onto the sand once more, and gasped as he tried to refill his lungs with air. Itraya was on him in seconds, kneeling in the small of his back, and desperately reaching for the knife in his back pocket.

Sawyer tried to move, but couldn't with the pressure on his back, and started calling for help instead. Itraya ignored him and in one last attempt managed to grasp the hilt of the knife between her palms. She cut the bonds on her knees quickly, and nicked Sawyer's back in the process. He hollered, and She stood up, wincing at the pain in her legs.

Knife still grasped in her palms, she quickly move over to the bed, sat down, and put the knife between her knees. She began sawing at the ropes on her wrists frantically, managing to make small cuts on her wrists, and hands. Sawyer started to get up, groaning, and she hacked faster, trying to pry her hands apart.

Sawyer saw what she had done, and quickly threw himself at her. The rope snapped, and she pocketed the knife before he was even close.

"Give me that damn knife! Give it to me!" Sawyer shouted. And she stood there, ready to reach into her pocket and use it on him instead.

But instead, she just sprinted forwards, catching him off guard, and kicked him in the leg. He howled in pain, and spun after her, and if she'd have had any hair that was long enough for him to grasp, he would have caught her.

But she'd already taken care of that.

She bolted from the tent and straight into a warm solid object. It grabbed hold of her, and they both fell into the sand. She fought her instinct to scream, and thrashed instead.

Then she found herself pinned to the ground, staring up into the handsome worried face of Sayid. At the sight of him she thrashed harder, throwing sand up around her, and letting out a shriek.

"Did he hurt you?" Sayid shouted, shaking her, "Did he hurt you?"

And all she could do was laugh maniacally. Here she was, running from a man she had almost had to kill, and this insolent fool asks if he hurt HER. She was an outsider, and he was worried for her. Stupid.

And as sorry as she was that she had to do this to him, she brought one of her newly freed knees up into his groin, and with a groan, pushed him off of her. He went easy, and scattering sand, she sprinted up, and took off running...

OOO