CLAIRE

She wasn't going back to him.

She had Charlie.

He loved another woman.

She couldn't go back.

Never mind the way her eyes were always looking for him against her will. Never mind the way she remembered everything he had ever said to her, replayed sentences in her mind sometimes, searching them for shades of meaning. Never mind the way she never laid down at night without considering the possibility of getting up from her bed and going to find him.

Never mind any of that.

She couldn't throw away what life she had made on this island. It was unstable enough as it was. More than that, she couldn't shame herself by begging him to care about her again. He didn't want to care about her.

But he does, she told herself, remembering his kiss. He does.

But still, she would stay away.

DESMOND

He couldn't sleep anymore.

She had said she was coming back.

Every dusk, his heart leapt, knowing it was getting close to night, close to when she might return. He didn't want to want her, but he couldn't help but imagine things. Not just kissing her again, not just holding her, not just her body (though those things certainly filled his mind sometimes). He just wanted to see her. He wanted to watch her face change as expressions flitted across it. He wanted to know things about her. Really, he knew so little. She was beautiful, and kind, and graceful. And shy, when she told him she thought of him, wanted him with her. Shy and brave.

He missed her, and he barely knew her. His glimpses of the future showed only more pictures of him waiting, alone. He hated the waiting.

TOGETHER

When she finally came back to him, it was during the day. She was walking by with Aaron, slow and meandering, and he told himself that she was taking a stroll, that she wouldn't come talk to him, that she might not even look at him. This was a secret thing, after all, if it even existed anymore.

But she walked over to him, casual and graceful, but with tension around her mouth and eyes. It was funny how he could read her face already.

She was standing over the place he sat on the sand, only her shadow brushing across his skin, much less substantial than he wanted her presence to be.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi." He looked straight up into her face and wondered if adequate sign language existed to ask her the questions he had for her.

"How are you?" She pushed her hair out of her face, sliding her fingers through it, and he remembered exactly how it had felt when his fingers followed that same path. She sank down and sat across from him, settling Aaron into her lap. He was surprised that she seemed to be staying.

"I'm doing fine, I suppose." He absentmindedly reached over and stroked Aaron's small hand

"Do you want to hold him?" she asked, sounding strangely hopeful.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't even know how." He had never had much to do with babies. Penny had wanted a family. They had lost that chance.

He couldn't act like nothing was wrong anymore. "So what brings you here?"

"I don't know." She looked down at the sand as though she would read an answer there.

He looked around and saw that no one was near enough to hear what they said. He leaned a little closer to her anyway. "You told me you would come back." She may have been the one who came to him, but now he was the one giving in, giving up his pretense of ease.

"And you told me that you're in love with another woman." Her beautiful eyes, so blessedly visible at this close range, narrowed angrily. "I changed my mind."

"So why are you back now?"

"I was trying to make things seem… normal. I talk to everyone else on the beach. I mean, nothing really happened with us…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Claire." He felt strangely like laughing, or tearing his hair out in frustration. "This will never be normal."

"What do you mean?" She looked annoyed again, and she was jiggling Aaron at a rate rather too fast to be soothing.

"You know what I mean." He was leaning closer to her, a little too close for the appearance of casual conversation, but he didn't care anymore. Even if he couldn't express what he meant, he knew she felt it, and was trying to reject it. They would never be simple acquaintances talking. A current of attraction and attention would always flow through them, always bind the directions of their eyes and minds together when they were near. Why else had Charlie bristled with jealousy the moment they had spoken?

Her face was still tight, but now her expression resembled pain more than rage. "You don't really care about me." Her voice came out choked. "You love someone else."

"I've loved her for years. Remembering her kept me sane on this island. I promised myself to her." His voice rose in intensity against his volition. "But all I think of anymore is you. I don't sleep, waiting for you. I don't want to lose what I had with her, but I can't pretend to ignore this."

"This?" The anger was back. "What is it that you feel about me?"

"Don't ask me that." He felt irrational anger rising up in himself.

"Why not?"

"It won't ever be love, all right? I can't love you."

She stared at him, her face suddenly void of expression.

"So don't," she whispered. She shifted as though she was about to stand up, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. There was one thing he had to know.

"Claire," he whispered, relishing the chance to say her name, to touch her, even in this sad moment. "Do you love him?"

"What right do you have to ask me that?" She glared, but didn't pull her arm away.

"It should be an easy question to answer."

When she spoke, it was a whisper. "No. But he loves Aaron. He might love me. He helps me. Maybe I need him."

"You don't need anyone to take care of you." But how he wished that he could be the one to take that job, if she wanted him to.

"I love that you believe that about me." She smiled sadly, the first smile since she'd appeared, and his heart ached sweetly. He didn't want to let her go.

"I need you to come back again."

"Don't ask me that." He was startled by her firm tone.

"What do you mean?"

"If you want me, don't ask me to find a way to sneak back to you." She looked up into his eyes, and he saw her strength there, all of her timid, fearless glory. "If you want to be with me, come get me yourself."

"Claire…" He could get caught if he went to her place at the camp, even if he tried to go there at night. He could make Charlie angry. He would be making a challenge, staking a claim.

He suddenly realized that she knew those things. She knew what she was asking.

"I won't be the thing you're ashamed of. I'm not going to be some girl you fool around with while I'm leading on another man and you really want another woman. Come get me, or don't, but stop waiting for me." She stood up, a goddess of justice, the picture of grace, and he stayed down, like her humble worshipper. He was speechless.

"You know where to find me," she said. Then, before he realized what she was doing, she looked around to check that no one was nearby and leaned down and pressed her lips against his.

She tried to pull back after just a moment, but he reached up and cradled her head in his hand, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. She had never seemed to lovely, or so unreachable, even as he embraced her.

When they pulled back, she let out a little gasp. "I just wanted to, in case that was the last time." He saw tears well up in her eyes. She walked away fast, pressing her fingers to her mouth, pressing Aaron close to her like a consolation.

He covered his face with his hands and felt tears fill his own eyes, for only the second time since he had been on this blasted island. He couldn't forget Penny, but now he knew that he could never lose this memory either. In that moment he could see nothing of the future, except for the sudden knowledge that he could never again feel whole.