Well, i've got another chapter for you. As always I really do appreciate you reading this, I just don't have the time that I'd like to, to sit down and thank you at the moment. I wish I did but work is so mad and I'm trying desperately to get my laptop fixed so that I don't have to borrow my sisters pc anymore. I just don't feel very comfortable writing on her comp.

Anywho, hope that this chapter is as enjoyed as the others and I still don't own anything Lost related...unfortunately.

Chapter 7.

Locke's suggestion that they stop for the night and make camp had taken them all unawares. Being the all-knowing jungle man that he was, Sawyer had expected him to have them all marching single file through the jungle, barking orders like a Sergeant Major, until they all passed out from exhaustion. Instead, they had all been shocked when a little before sunset the enigmatic, bald man had stopped before them in the shadow of a cliff only perhaps another half hour, forty minutes worth of climbing from the small mountain's summit.

"I think we should rest up fully for tomorrow," he had announced with his calmly authoritative tone that caused even Sayid's eyebrows to shoot up his forehead in surprise. "Who knows what's waiting for us around the next bend, hmmm?"

Michael had been none too happy with the early break and had removed himself, in a flurry of barely conceal emotion, to refill their water bottles from a stream that they had passed a little further down, with the aid and companionship of Kate, who had, since her 'talk' with Sawyer that morning, had kept her distance and held her tongue both.

Eko had disappeared into the jungle also, but in the opposite direction to the female fugitive and father, heading instead for the top of the rise, possibly under orders from Locke to scout ahead or his own initiative. Sawyer couldn't be sure and Sayid hunched over his stolen maps, alternating between the three main sheets of paper, held down at the corners by rocks while at the same time picking over his evening meal of fruit and the scarce amount of meat that Locke had divided out equally from the unlucky subject of his latest hunt. A rat. A rather large one, mind you, but a rat none-the-less, which Sawyer had chewed on thoughtfully, with all attempts at keeping an open mind only to discover that it tasted like greasy, gristly, three day old chicken wings.

As if the man had read his mind, Locke sat down beside Sawyer, where he was currently taking his turn at a two hour shift watch while the others went about their separate business, sending his gaze out into the darkening jungle foliage.

"How did you enjoy your meal?" Locke asked, inclining his head slightly as he settled himself and Sawyer snorted as he considered his words.

"I liked it well enough for a meal out here in the middle of nowhere," he responded at length with a growing smirk. "I'da liked it a lot more if an' you hadn'ta gone told me what I was eatin'."

Locke laughed at that remark. A soft chortling that sounded foreign coming from the usually hard, or at least less emotional man. Had he ever laughed before? In Sawyer's hearing?

"I'll take that as a compliment then." Locke answered when he had calmed himself once more, resting his elbows upon his drawn up knees, brown cotton trousers pulled taught over their twin rise.

"'Take it in what sense as thou will'." Sawyer snorted in reply and suddenly Locke was on his feet once more leaving the Southerner wondering if the Shakespearian quote he had just spoken had offended the older man in some way.

Locke grinned over his shoulder, however, that mysterious grin that simultaneously made Sawyer infuriated and a little unnerved.

"That reminds me," he spoke finally, calling back to Sawyer as he moved across their makeshift campsite, drawing Sayid's wary gaze away from his maps for all of a split second, to his own designated area where he rummaged through his pack. "I…found this…on the beach…" he grunted in slight effort. "Left by the…signal fire." He straightened suddenly, standing bolt upright and clutching a familiar looking object in his leathery, weather beaten hands. "I've seen you reading it a number of times, so I guessed it was yours."

The book sailed through the air towards him suddenly, making Sawyer shift swiftly, his hands cupping around the battered paperback that had left Locke's own grasp. And he studied the cover, although he had known deep down which book of his it was. It was the only one of his little collection that she read continuously.

-Flashback-

She lay in the shade of the trees beside their shelter on her front, propped up onto her elbows as her eyes scoured the pages of the literature before her, twirling on of his pens between her fingers.

Most of his book collection she had read through, if not all. That was what she had called one of the 'great perks' about living with him. She got automatic dibs on his entire stash, be it books or alcoholic beverages or plain old asprin that she required. What was once only his, and given away or traded with great reluctance, now belonged to her as well…apparently.

He'd called her on it once, demanding to know why she suddenly had the right to rifle through his honestly pilfered belongings and she had responded that 'if she was giving him a piece of her ass, she deserved to be getting something in return' and Sawyer had gawped at her, not entirely sure if she was being serious or merely joking with him until she had flashed him a wicked smile and laughed wildly at the concern on his face.

"You readin' that one again, Sugar?" he felt bold enough to query from his semi-recumbent place beside her as he reached across the small space between them, lifting the corner of the book to view the front cover. "You read it more times 'an I have! I know you said you liked it as a kid an' I know there ain't nothin' to do on this damn island, but this is gettin' a little creepy. I mean, psycho slasher bunnies, Chica?" he chuckled deep in his throat and Ana swatted his hand away without taking her eyes from the page she was studiously reading.

"So I like the story…" she mumbled, absently, pen suddenly poised above the text, ready to underline something or circle a quote as she had taken to doing…like he had a long time ago. "You not got a favourite book, Tennessee?" her grin was fiendish as she worked, curling the corner of her mouth that was visible to him up into a smirk. "They not have books in the trailer park you grew up on?"

Sawyer snorted.

"Funny." He snarled, playing along with her teasing. "Regular little stand-up comedian, aren't ya?" he jerked the book away from her grip, drawing her glare, suddenly full of irritation, up to meet his. "For your information, Precious, I had a library card an' everything!"

His comment turned Ana's ire once more to amusement and she shifted onto her side, facing him and propping up her head onto her head.

"Well I never," she smirked. Wicked. Evil. Smug…Sawyer wanted to kiss her. "Boy can read!"

"Well I never," he responded in kind, replacing his urges to throw himself on top of her instead with the equally strong desire to wind her up some more. "Girl can use her brain!"

-End Flashback-

A sudden speech from Locke drew Sawyer out of his memory, causing him to turn to the hunter and ask him to repeat what he'd just said with a puzzled lift of his eyebrows, at which Locke smiled.

"The book. It's yours?" he stated more than asked and Sawyer nodded in confirmation as Locke returned to his previous seat beside him. "I thought so." His blue eyes lanced sideways, though Sawyer was unaware that he was under scrutiny until his watcher spoke once more. "Why don't you get some rest with the others? Relax at least if you're not going to sleep…maybe…do some reading since you've got that book there. I'll take my shift now."

Sawyer suspected that Locke was goading him to do something, leading him by the nose like a prize bull and he glanced down at the book him his hands apprehensively. But Locke, though suspicious in his actions and certainly so in his motives, had always offered him the very best advice. Locke's words had sorted out his head when he'd felt like walking into the cold, unrelenting seawater and making the depths his bed. Locke's words had helped to keep Ana-Lucia back at the beach where she was safe. And more importantly they had kept her there without him having to swallow his male pride and admit why exactly he was trying to protect her.

"Alright, Mr Magoo," Sawyer announced finally, standing and stretching out his already stiff muscles, shaking out the cramps in his legs. "I'll play your game." And then he paused, turning his back to Locke completely and rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "I ain't never been one for etiquette an' such. But…I want to thank you…for that little speech you done made 'bout migratin' geese…Helped me sort out ma head right."

Locke smiled, cocking his head to one side and regarding the younger man's silhouette with a glance of polite puzzlement, resembling something of an owls visage.

"Whatever you gained from my words that day, Sawyer, was only a product of your own mind." He shook his head then and Sawyer turned back to glance over his shoulder, though not before shooting a glare to make certain that Sayid was concentrating upon his maps and not privy to his gratefulness.

"My words didn't help you sort out anything. You did that on your own." Locke continued and then his grin became somewhat sly. Sawyer would have called it 'teasing' if the concept of John Locke joking with him was not so absurd. "I was merely talking about wild geese."

Sawyer spun with a dubious stare on his features to meet Locke's own unfathomable, Cheshire cat wide grin, but before he could open his mouth to call him 'crazy' and dub him another new nickname more suitable to his obvious insanity, a wail went up. An agonized human cry through the night air like a claxon sounding the first attacks of war and that served to startle both Locke and Sayid to their feet beside Sawyer.

-oOo-