Chapter Twelve
Sawyer and Sayid were laboring on an extension for the common dining table when Kate approached and offered the southerner a bottle of water. He thanked her with a pat on the bottom, which she received with rolled eyes until she had turned from him, and then her face admitted a smile. When she saw Sayid she shrugged as though to say, "What do you expect? It's Sawyer. I knew what I was getting." Then she shifted the baby in the sling she had draped about her shoulder.
As Kate began to walk back down the shore, Sayid thought of those early days after the crash, when he had admired her for her courage. He recalled, faintly, the strength of his desire to protect her from Sawyer's advances. He remembered, too, the gratitude he had felt when she had been the only one to see him off on that solitary journey he had taken after falling into old ways. She had been there at the start of another lonely trek as well, at Shannon's grave, late in the night, after all the other survivors had faded back into the routines of life.
He ran a sanding rock across the splintered edge of a beam and said, before he had even realized it, "You do not deserve that woman."
"Nope," answered Sawyer. "I don't deserve much of anything good I've had in life." Then he came over and leaned in close to the Iraqi. His eyes were hard-set when he spoke. "Ain't it lucky, Torquemada, that we don't often get what we deserve?"
"Yes," the Iraqi agreed, and there was a tinge of penance in his voice. "Would you help me tighten this beam?"
When they were finished with the task, Sayid paused for a drink of water and then asked, "What are you getting Kate for Christmas?"
"Aha!" Sawyer leered. "So, despite all your posturing, you don't know what to get Claire. You're fishing for ideas."
"Hardly. I am merely curious as to what you have determined to get your wife."
Sawyer snorted. "You're the only one who calls her that."
"Calls her what?"
"My wife. We ain't married you know."
"Not formally." Sayid returned to work on the table. "And why have you failed to make it official? It is no longer like the old days, when there was no mechanism for such things. We have a community record book. You could at least--"
Sawyer promptly changed the subject. "I've still got a few things from the old stash. You looking to buy something for your girl? It won't come cheap."
"I was rather hoping to give Claire something that did not belong to a woman who died tragically. Do you think Kate will be content with such a gift?"
Sawyer's grin faltered.
The Iraqi shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I am certain you know her well enough."
Sawyer picked up a beam and flung it with force on top of the table. "Damn," he muttered.