Chapter Seventeen

"So, what did you end up getting her? A string and a piece of wood?" Sawyer swung a leg over the bench to sit next to Sayid. The women had congregated once again around Kate and were talking about whatever it was women talked about at times such as these. Sayid had been watching Claire's lips as she spoke and laughed, and he was wondering what she was saying to Sawyer's wife, or fiancé, or whatever he was supposed to call her.

Sayid did not dignify him with a response, but he filled the cup Sawyer extended to him with a drought of fruit wine from one of the wooden pitchers on the table. "More importantly," Sawyer took a slow slurp of his drink, "what did she get you? 'Cause, you know, that might give you some idea how serious she is. You've got to be wondering. I mean, damn, she strung Charlie on forever." The southerner brought his face level with Sayid's. "I even heard rumors they never did it at all."

Sayid gritted his teeth, but he would not allow himself to be provoked. He had tortured the man once, after all. Sawyer's brand of tormenting was far milder, though perhaps it held a bit more personal spite. But there was a kind of strange affection in it too. It wasn't as if the man knew any other way to make friends.

"So?" Sawyer prompted. "What she get you?"

"That is not your concern." Sayid looked deliberately away. After he had suppressed his irritation, he nodded toward Kate. "Congratulations on your pending nuptials."

"Yeah, well, I figured you were right after all. I pretty much did already buy the cow. Might as well sign the deed of sale so I have proof of ownership, 'cause I sure as hell can't get a refund at this point."

"I have no idea what your cryptic farm analogy means, but it does not sound flattering."

Sawyer swished the liquid around in his cup. Sayid assumed he must have emptied and refilled that cup a number of times, because he actually asked, "Why do you think she loves me?" Sayid just shook his head lightly. "No, really," Sawyer continued, "there must be a reason. Does Claire ever tell you anything Kate says about me?"

"I am certain Kate must have some justification. Perhaps you should ask her instead of me."

"Nah," Sawyer said and took another swallow. "So what did Claire get you?"

Sayid felt a light hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Claire and was relieved to have been spared from answering. "It's getting late," she said, "and I'm tired. Will you walk me back to my hut?"

Sayid nodded and left Sawyer's side. Claire took his hand and began leading him away. "Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked. "Aaron?"

"He fell asleep in the sand. Rose and Bernard said they'll keep an eye on him and bring him home in the morning."

Perhaps the convenience of this arrangement would have been noteworthy to him if his mind were not preoccupied with Sawyer's words about the meaning of gifts. When they reached her hut, Claire gasped. "Oh no, I forgot to bring your gift to the banquet."

Sayid thought the relief he presently felt should not have been so great; after all, her omission really had been a matter of no consequence.

"Wait here," she insisted. "I haven't wrapped it yet. I'll tell you when you can come in."

After he had waited for what seemed like a very long time, he tapped on the door and called, "I really do not need it to be wrapped, Claire. May I come in?"

When she answered in the affirmative, he stepped into the hut. The interior was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, and Claire had spread a blanket in front of the "tree" near the mantle. His first thought was, Why is she wearing my shirt? She had on the button-downed article he had forgotten to reclaim that day she had chased Aaron into the surf. And then he realized that was all she was wearing. Perhaps it was the most seductive clothing she could manage; she certainly had not packed any lingerie for her flight. Not that it mattered. She was breathtaking in her simplicity.

Sayid realized that, at the moment, he must appear less than sophisticated. But he was still processing the implications of her willing posture. He had not been expecting this moment tonight. He knew how much importance she placed on sex, so he knew that she was not simply offering him her body. Claire was offering him her whole heart, every last bit of it, nothing held back. She was holding out to him the entire beautiful, flawed, humble, determined, shy, courageous, girlish, womanly package.

The perfect present.