The picture was crumpled and worm from years of sea air and hatch dust

The picture was crumpled and worm from years of sea air and hatch dust. Desmond looked at it every chance that he got. Sayid liked to watch Desmond when he looked at the photo. First, Desmond would run his finger along the outline of his fiancée's face. Then he would smile a little. Sometimes, when he thought Sayid wasn't paying attention, he would kiss the photograph. The first time Sayid saw this, he had to stifle a laugh; it was like a teenage girl with a picture of her favorite musician. Then, after this little ritual had been completed, Desmond would carefully fold the picture and place it back into his breast pocket.

Sometimes Desmond told Sayid stories about Penelope. Sayid listened; why not? There wasn't much else to do on the freighter. And Sayid liked listening to Desmond anyway, even when Desmond got a little crazy, which he never did when talking about Penny. Desmond tried to explain that to Sayid, but Sayid wasn't sure how he felt about time travel. Although, compared to some of the other things that seemed to be happening on the island, it made a lot of sense, he supposed. Of course, while listening to Desmond, sometimes Sayid found himself not paying attention. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a light touch on his shoulder.

"Sayid?" Desmond's worried eyes searched his face.

"I'm sorry," Sayid apologized. "I was just thinking. What is it?"

"I just asked if you've ever had a fiancée. Or anything."

"Well," Sayid said reluctantly. "I did know a woman once..."

"Only one, brotha?" Desmond asked, trying to provoke a smile.

"Only one like this," Sayid said nostalgically, smiling back. For the first time in a long time, he talked about Nadia. He hadn't said much about her to anyone on the island, except for the French woman, Rousseau, and that time wasn't really by choice. Then he surprised himself by launching into a story about meeting Shannon on the island. Desmond listened intently.

"I'm sorry mate," Desmond commented when Sayid had finished.

"It was a long time ago," Sayid replied quietly.

"Not so long, brotha." He thought for a moment, and then reconsidered. Maybe with this crazy time thing."

"Many things have changed since then," Sayid answered.

"Fair enough."

The two men sat in silence on their beds in the dirty room, until Sayid said, "Have you ever had feelings for anyone else?"

"You mean before I met Pen?" Desmond asked hesitantly.

"No. Well, I guess so. But what about after Pen?"

"There is no after Pen. You heard me speak to her on the phone. Penelope is the present and the future. I loved other women in the past, but now I love Pen."

"You're very naïve," Said commented.

"How does being in love make me naïve?" Desmond demanded. "I'm not naïve; I've had experiences, same as you, brotha. I've been in the military. I've lived by myself, completely alone, for ages and I've survived. Is that naïve? I don't know where you..." Sayid stopped Desmond's tirade by crushing his lips in a kiss. Desmond grabbed for the other man's shoulders, pushing him away. "Are you bloody mad?" he asked angrily.

"No, I'm not mad at all. What have I got to be mad about?" Sayid said, deliberately misunderstanding the word.

"Not mad as in angry. Crazy. Insane. Are you bloody insane?" Desmond shouted. "Are you..." Sayid tangled a hand into Desmond's unkempt hair and jerked his head closer.

"Desmond Hume," he muttered. "Shut up." Desmond obeyed and Sayid pulled him back into a kiss. Just then, the freighter lurched violently, and the two men were knocked backwards into the nearest wall.

"What was that?" Desmond wondered aloud. "Are we moving?"

"I do not think so," Sayid answered. "From what I could see, they won't have the sabotaged machinery fixed for quite some time."

"I guess that means we'll be stuck here for a while longer then, yeah?"

"Looks that way," Sayid said. He couldn't help but grin and comment, "I'm sure we will find plenty to keep us occupied."

Desmond moved towards Sayid, but then stopped. He took the photo out of his pocked and placed it on the table, making sure it was face-down. "It just feels odd... wrong almost, you know, brotha?" he explained.

"I suppose I do," Sayid replied. "I... I felt the same way with Shannon. But this," he gestured towards Desmond and then back at himself, moving rather awkwardly, "isn't that, I mean," Gesturing towards the picture. "you'll still have Penny when you go home."

Desmond nodded. "Yeah," he said. "But for now... why not?"

Sayid smiled. "Why not, indeed."