"The longest straw gets to go back home with Cindy. Shortest straws have to stay." Locke announced, surveying the circle.
After much arguing and resistance on Kate's part, they had agreed that Sayid should be the one to choose and hold the thin sticks in order to prevent a 'repeat of events' as the brunette had politely put it with a scowl on her face that was barely concealed.
Sawyer waited, breath stilling almost in his chest as the Iraqi offered his fist of sticks around them each in turn, starting with Eko.
The Nigerian man's hand dwarfed Sayid's own, relatively large fist, selecting one of the six twigs with long, deft fingers. A rosary perhaps, was clasped in his palm, then, faster than Sawyer's eyes could tell if he had selected a short straw, Eko withdrew his hand, turning his back to inspect it.
Sayid turned to Michael then, who had also argued bitterly about being included in the draw. Walt was his son, he had bitten out, his emotions wound so tight that his carefully erected façade of cheerfulness began to rip apart at the seams revealing the rawness that boiled beneath the surface. He had to go on the venture, he had demanded but Locke had persuaded him to take part, however, with silver words from a serpents tongue. More and more Sawyer was coming to realise that John Locke knew how to get his own way. If the island wanted Michael to find his son, he had said, he would indeed be chosen to do so.
Suddenly the hand of straws was before him, directly in his eye line as the other five, who had apparently chosen theirs with out him noticing, waited patiently and impatiently alike for him to draw his weapon. Two straws left. His and Sayid's.
He reached for the at length, fingers curling around the stem entirely so that no one but he himself would know it's true length. And then, for a breathless split second he paused, knuckles white as he tightened his grasp and then whipped back and away, tearing it from Sayid's hand and hiding it behind his back.
Deep down he knew. Instantly. Automatically he knew and all of his conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment welled up inside of him stronger than before when he had been regretting selfishly his decision to leave Ana at the beach. In safety.
His free hand slipped slowly behind his back to join the other, fingertips tentatively and blindly reaching for the edge of the stick, feeling the splintered ends where Sayid had cut it's length free. Feeling the smoothness of it's stem as he rolled it between callused digits.
It was a good four, maybe five inches long. By the looks of everyone else's faces it was by far the longest as they compared their straws, all similar sizes.
So, the 'Island' wanted him to go back with Cindy? Go back down to the beach? Back 'home' and meet the fury that was Ana-Lucia head on? Take it on the chin? Be a man? Sort things out…? His heart wanted him to do so as well. His self-centred side. The side that hadn't wanted to leave Ana in the first place, at least not with Jackie-Boy there without Kate to hold his attention. While the Cat's away and all and that side of him surged up again. Anew. Stronger and more potent than before. So much so that he nearly grinned, waved his straw in the air and began an off-key rendition of "Take me Home Country Roads". But then his sanity returned to him, as did his conscience, reminding him of the reasons why exactly he was out there in the first place…
He had someone to keep safe now. He had someone to protect, even if she'd damn well hang, draw and quarter him for saying that she needed protecting.
His fingers, curling tight around his longest straw, smoothed along it's length, the pads of his thumbs positioning themselves side-by-side in the vague middle. Slowly, eyes taking in his companions as they all stood oblivious, conversing and comparing their own choices, eager to find out who would be leaving the mission, he turned himself so that his hands were completely obscured by his broad back and loosed a barking cough for a suitable distraction. That instant he pressed his thumbs down into the stick swiftly and hard, harder than was necessary anyway, and it bowed before cracking in two with an audible click…And Sawyer winced at the sound, though it had to have been a near silent one, which rang exaggeratedly about his head, amplified by the fact that what he was doing was a little back-handed. He fancied that the snap of the tiny twig was echoing around them as loud as a beat on a drum, but not one of his group acknowledged it nor demanded to know what the noise had been.
He studied them intently nonetheless, as he disposed of the un-needed half of his stick by opening his fingers and letting it fall back down to the jungle floor, where Sayid had plucked it from, of it's own accord.
That was the moment, just as he was about to smile smugly and produce his straw, introducing it for comparison, that he noted Locke's eyes watching him. How had he not seen the older man's invasive stare before? Had he been watching the entire time? Had he seen? Did he know what Sawyer had just done? The enigmatic smile upon the thin, dry lips of the hunter told Sawyer that he had indeed seen and he did indeed know, but the true question was whether or not John Locke-Master of Mystery, was going to call him up on it and foil his devious plan.
"Sawyer," Locke murmured, as if on cue. As if, by some craziness he had read the southerner's mind, stealing the thoughts right out from between his ears. He pointed a languid finger in his direction. "Why don't we see your straw?"
Relief flowed through Sawyer's veins almost as fiercely as it had when Ana had not been accepted onto the Hunting Party, and smiling his own suddenly cocky once more smirk, silently thanking Locke with a minute nod of his blonde haired head, he held his hand palm out with the tiny twig that was left in it.
"Looks like you're stuck with me, boys and girls."
-oOo-
"You saw Sawyer?" Jack's tone was part dubious and part sympathetic.
His dark eyebrows had quirked in confusion and concern when he had seen
Ana-Lucia making her way into the caves, when she should have been in
the hatch taking her shift. His confusion had deepened further still
when he had noted Shannon in tow. Both of them soaked to the bone. Both
of them moving with an urgency which told him blatantly that something
was wrong. That something had happened.
Never in his wildest dreams, however, had he expected what the two women told him.
"No," Ana countered, impatience in her voice now. "It only looked like Sawyer, but it wasn't him. He was trying to warn me and when I heard Shannon calling, he disappeared."
His eyes, wide now, flickered to Shannon's face for confirmation of Ana's story and when the blonde girl nodded her head vigorously he closed his eyes, scrubbing a hand over his confusion creased forehead.
"And what was this guy that 'looked like Sawyer', trying to warn you about?" he sounded tired and he kept his eyes shut as if doing so would deny the truth of the matters currently being presented to him.
Ana set her jaw and after a quick glance at Shannon by her side for support of her theory, she spoke aloud again, with confidence.
"Them." she grit her teeth as she spat the word forth with disgust, as if merely mentioning them had tainted her tongue with a bitter tang. "They're coming here. He said from all directions and that we needed to watch out for them. I don't know about you, Jack, but I consider that as a threat that we need to take into consideration. Too many lives are at stake for us not to."
He glanced up at her from where he sat opposite, elbows resting upon his knees as he leaned forwards and held his head in his large, powerful, life-saving hands.
"And what are you suggesting we do? Go on the word of…whoever, whatever it was that you say you saw? That looked like Sawyer? I mean he's not the most reliable of people anyway…"
Ana stared down at the floor of the cave between her feet, rain water still dripping from the tips of her ebony curls to form a puddle before her which had suddenly become fascinating and far more important than eye contact with Jack. She bit her tongue, clamping it in between her back teeth to keep from responding with heated words of her own to the slurs to Sawyer that the doctor had just spoken. She needed Jack to believe her right then. For all their sake's. She needed him to believe her. She needed him. And he had told her that very night that he was there if she ever needed someone to talk to.
She blinked once, slowly, raising her eyes cautiously up to meet his as she took a deep breath, tongue still secured safely between her molars.
"That's besides the point, Jack." she responded finally, voice low and she was shocked by her own calmness. She had no idea where exactly it was coming from but she surmised that she was currently still running on autopilot. Things hadn't begun to sink in yet, or their true repercussions hadn't anyway.
"What is the point then, Ana?"
"People could die!" Shannon blurted before Ana could respond to Jack's contradicting query. "We need to get them down into the hatch, like you wanted to before. Last time."
"It could take days to move everyone down there and last time was a false alarm. What if this is one too?" Jack's features wavered now, close to believing them and yet the rational part of him, the doctor that still couldn't quite believe that he was stranded on such an island, held back stubbornly. He sighed wearily, sitting up straighter, squinting at them in the dim firelight from the mouth of the cave. "You want to move all those people for a false alarm?"
"What if it isn't?" Ana countered staunchly. Maybe Jack didn't want to back down and believe them quite yet, but neither was she going to take no for an answer. Too much was in jeopardy. Too much could be lost if they didn't take things seriously.
They lapsed into silence once more. Rain still falling outside. Fire crackling louder than before as it consumed the kindling at it's heat core with a smoky cough.
And Jack blew out a second sigh through his nose, standing and pacing away from the two women, sat side-by-side, to stand staring up at the ceiling of the cave. Hands scrubbing over his closely cropped, dark hair as if his head ached, as if he was trying to clear his mind and make the right choice for everyone. It was always about choices.
Finally he spun back on his heel to face them again, sand and stony soil crunching in protest as he did. And his eyes told them his answer before his voice announced it.
"Alright…"
-oOo-
"I'm not going back!" words bitten out furiously. Dangerously.
"You chose the longest straw. It's what the island-"
"If you're about to say 'what the island wants', John…" eyes flashed lightening up at the bald headed man in warning. "I suggest that you don't!"
Locke shrugged, palms raised in surrender.
"It's only fair, Kate." he repeated his staunch belief, unmoved by her ire and again Kate argued against the decision of the straws, after it had turned out that she held the longest. The one sending her back to the caves with Cindy. Kate was not happy.
Her accusations that Locke had cheated once more had begun pouring forth from angry lips so loud that Cindy had woken fearful and shaking and all conversation about their next moves was halted while Kate calmed the woman again. Seeing her do so even eased the tiny slither of guilt that Sawyer felt for cheating at her expense. It was obvious that Cindy felt most comfortable in Kate's company. The Australian only considered the men with wide, frightened eyes. Like a rabbit caught between the headlights of a truck. It was better this way. Or at least so he told himself as he sat, eyes raising every so often from where he scrawled hastily onto the last page of the book that Locke had returned to him, to watch events unfolding around the makeshift camp.
"Alright…" her voice was softer, less bitter and harsh than before, as she moved away from the once more sleeping Cindy for the second time that night. She seemed to have taken notice of the fact that the stewardess responded to her with little fear. Cindy's safety was paramount in all of their minds right hen. It surpassed Kate's indignation, her need to prove herself and even her suspicion of Locke. "Okay, I'll take Cindy back to the caves."
"Finally!" Sawyer smiled, snapping his book shut and fixing the pen securely behind his ear. "Glad we sorted that one out, Sweetcakes." he stood, dusting the seat of his pants before he caught her arm and drew her away to the side of the camp, beneath a low hanging tree sprouting from beside the cliff face. "You couldn't do somethin' for me, could'ya, Freckles?" he queried beneath his breath, sapphire eyes catching and holding onto her own of emerald. "Couldn't do me a big favour?"
She seemed slightly taken aback by his friendliness towards her following their conversation that morning. Following the continued silence all day.
"That depends…" and yet apparently she wasn't so taken aback that she lost her edge. Still as cunning and cautious as ever and that made Sawyer smirk a little wider. "…On exactly what it is that you want me to do."
Sawyer wasted no time, thrusting the book into her hands unexpectedly and causing her to almost drop it. He held it there steady, pressing it down onto her palms for long moments as he spoke, his actions, the firmness of his pressure compelling her to take it.
"You'll make sure that Ana-Lucia gets a-hold of this for me, won't you, Puddin'?" he clenched his teeth as he paused, waiting for her reaction. Not yet daring to hope that she'd agree. He could already see the trepidation tinting her green eyes and making them wary but with his right hand he caught hold of one of hers and pressed it down on top of the novel, keeping his own covering hers. Almost as if he was trying to give her a glimpse of his desperation that she fulfil his one request of her, without actually having to voice it. "It's important." he continued, voice little more than a rumbling whisper in the air and Kate stared down at the curious book and their combined hands, silent still save for the deep breaths that she drew into her lungs.
"Okay." she replied finally, tugging her hands and the book out from between his larger ones. She took a step back to look him in the eyes again. "I'll make sure she gets it." and he believed her.
-oOo-