Disclaimer: i don't own anything to do with Lost or the characters.
Chapter 4.
Ana smirked from where she stood between the trees, watching him struggle with the tarps of his shelter, trying to pin them back and allow fresh air into his living quarters, with the use of his good arm only.
It had been a couple of days since they had sought out each other's companionship, since Ana had found the curious letter stuffed into his copy of Watership Down and her memories had come back to haunt her once more. Sawyer had mentioned nothing about the letter and neither had she. They had simply sat together in silence, moving only when the announcement of the evening meal prompted them to, and after that they had parted ways in the slashing rain, with little more than a nod on either part. Ana going back to her own hastily thrown together shelter and Sawyer to his.
Following the three days of rain, however, had come the heat. Muggy. Cloying. Unbearable. Everyone gasped for breath, trying to claw the soupy air into their lungs. Everyone glittered with sweat, clothes and bodies damp.
"Need a hand, Igor?" she called, grinning as she stepped nearer to him, hands thrust into the back pockets of her newly hacked-up pair of cut-down denim shorts.
She didn't have legs as long as Sticks did, but in those dark blue, extremely short denims, they looked like they went on for miles and miles. Sawyer had to remind himself that she was watching him. That she would likely see him checking her out and reluctantly his eyes shifted as he glanced up into her face from where he was hunched over, injured arm cradled out of the way and across his middle for protection.
"Lord, I gone created a monster!" he growled, giving up on his task and straightening, his spine making an audible crackling sound in protest. "If I'da known you were gonna be spouting off nicknames left, right and centre…"
Ana-Lucia's grin broadened as his words became unintelligible mutters of half-hearted ire, and she stepped forth, picking up where he had left off, securing the blue plastic in place so that the entire front panel of his tent was lifted out of the way.
"How 'bout I call you Doctor Frankenstein then?" she gave a deep throated chuckle at her own words, fingers making swift work of tying knots that had kept Sawyer busy all morning and he plopped down to the ground in the mouth of his shelter, heavily and resigned.
"Funny, ha ha." he snorted, managing to unscrew his water bottle one-handed and taking a draught long enough to stagger his breathing.
Ana dropped to the ground beside him, stretching her legs out before her and supporting her weight on her arms as she leaned back, basking in the sun. She apparently was sticking around for a while meaning that she wanted something from him, or she wanted to talk.
Sawyer had not been blind three days prior, when he had returned to his tent and seen the look of guilt flash upon her face, albeit briefly. He'd noticed that his copy of Watership Down had been removed from where he had stowed it at the bottom of the stack. He'd seen how his letter had been opened and then stuffed haphazardly back into it's place as if she had panicked upon hearing him coming. And at first he had felt anger overwhelm him. He'd wanted to lash out at her and tell her to get out. But, something deep in her eyes had stopped him. Not the fear of being found out, but a fear created from remembrance, from something in her own past, something so akin to what he felt immersed in his own core. It had been like looking in a mirror then, his cool blue eyes staring into hers of dark brown, and his anger had melted, replaced by the connection he suddenly felt towards her.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Sawyer queried at length, offering his water bottle to her and she mumbled a breathless thanks before also swallowing thirstily.
"You're alone." she shrugged as she replaced the bottle top and caught her breath. "I'm alone. No sense in us being lonely apart. May as well suffer together, no?" she shrugged again, placing the bottle within easy reach between them and Sawyer laughed, though it ended in a coughing fit due to the dryness of his throat.
Yes, indeed. It seemed she wanted to talk.
"Whatever you say, Fight-Club." he snorted, blue eyes twinkling with mirth as he glanced over at her. "And here I thought it was my animal magnetism."
Ana tossed her head back and released a bleat of hilarity, inky black hair cascading down her back in a low ponytail.
"Animal magnetism…" she repeated his words, giving her head an amused shake. "You an animal now, Tarzan?" she quirked an eyebrow and Sawyer shot her an exaggerated wink in return.
"Honey, you know it!" his smile shone brighter than the sun if that was at all possible and Ana laughed again, harder, dark eyes glittering alluringly.
"An injured one." she pointed out with a snort of her own, raising her face to the warming rays of the sun filtering through the jungle canopy. "Know what they use to do when a race-horse injured itself?" she squinted her eyes against the glaring light, turning to watch him as he took another drink, his throat constricting rhythmically as he swallowed deeply.
"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyways, Chica." he gasped, wiping the back of his good arm across his mouth and removing the moisture from his lips and bristly chin.
She smiled at that, amused with his answer and turned to look down at the caves, the people milling around. Going about their business. Helping one another. Smiling and laughing together.
"Send it to that big race-course in the sky." she stated, another chuckle tainting her words, though there was something biting, something embittered about it.
She was a strong woman, both emotionally and physically, Sawyer knew that just from looking at her, but something troubled her. Something muddied her thoughts, making her hard and cold to most of the other survivors. He could see, every now and again, the brightness of her true self shining through. When she laughed and smiled. When she looked up at him. But deep inside she was hurting. He could see his own traits and tendencies within her. Her actions and attitudes. Something from her past troubled her desperately, making her a harsh, abrupt person like a stone thrown into a still pond, making the water turbulent and stormy.
"You sayin' I need to be put down, Sugar!" he demanded incredulously, voice rising in both volume and pitch, succeeding in regaining her attention once more, though she only returned his previous gesture of an exaggerated wink.
He scowled, shifting so that his own legs stretched out alongside hers. She was an enigma to him. Sun he got. Shannon he could figure out. Claire was like reading a book and Kate he understood almost as well as he did himself. Ana-Lucia, however, was a mystery.
"How d'you know 'bout race-horses anyhow?" he growled, his gaze following the same path that hers had taken to the other survivors.
"My Papi use to bet on them a lot when I was a kid. Use to take me along and tell me to pick out my favourite horse and then he'd place a bet on it. No matter what it's odds were." she turned her gaze to the ground, a deep routed sadness taking over her previously playful demeanour. "He use to say I was his lucky mascot." she snorted, ire suddenly dissolving any upset that had been apparent in her tone. "Asshole!"
"Your daddy was an asshole too, huh?" Sawyer asked quietly, clenching his teeth together as a wave of anguish course through him. "Join the club."
Her gaze snapped to him abruptly, wondering if he was merely making conversation or trying to keep her talking but she noted the dark look passing through his eyes almost as easily as he had spotted the anguish within her.
"Guess we got something in common." she mused, picking at the sandy dirt that they sat on. "Your Papi leave your Mama?"
"Somethin' like that…" he muttered quietly in response, not yet quite ready to admit to her what had actually happened. He couldn't stand to see pity in her dark gaze. That would ruin whatever it was they had started. "Yours?"
Ana-Lucia gave a bitter laugh that held no amusement whatsoever.
"Yeah. Bastard ran off with a rich-ass blonde when I was seven. Never saw him again." she sighed, smoothing her palm over her drawn back hair, scalding hot with the sun beating down upon it and she tried to smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Still, it didn't work out for him. Last I heard he was living with a nineteen year old in Sydney."
"That why you were there?" Sawyer queried and Ana nodded, though she held something back, something that she wasn't quite ready to admit to him. Perhaps for the same reasons he had held his own tongue about his parents' fate.
"Something like that…" she echoed his phrase and once more they fell into a companionable silence one that neither felt the urge nor were willing to break.
-oOo-