milliways_sawyer | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jin has been ushered out of the room and his bedroll kicked under the bed. The room has been cleaned and one of the nightstands converted to small table. There's a bottle of wine and a serving plate holding a fancy French chicken dish he can't remember the name of. Sawyer has shaved, showered, and dressed.

Now comes the waiting.

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Sawyer smiles back. He likes invoking that smile. "We probably ought to eat before it gets cold."

"Okay," she nods and moves to the small table, casting a surreptitious look around the room again. It's been awhile since she was there, after all. Very little has changed though and she finds that comforting.

"You have a new mirror."

He sits down on the other side of the table. "Yeah, I kind of got tired of looking at the broken mess after a while, and since I ain't heard anything about that phantom guy in a while, I figured it wouldn't hurt."

She smirks behind her hand and lets her eyes settle on his face. God, she's missed him.

"You know there was actually more than one phantom," she says matter-of-factly. "Me--, someone, told me that not too long ago. One was dangerous. The other was just crazy. Or something."

"'Just crazy' don't make me want him spying on me while I change into my pajamas either, sweetheart."

He pours wine into their glasses.

She takes her glass and sips it, humming softly as she swallows.

"You used to say 'let him watch' if I recall. But then, you didn't wear pajamas too often either."

He chuckles as he lifts his own glass. "I didn't always have a Korean man in my room."

She concedes the point with a laugh. "About that. Don't tell me the bar's full now."

He shrugs. "The guy won't take a room on credit."

She takes a bite of her food, temporarily distracted by how good it is.

"It's very sweet of you to let him stay here," she says softly and glances sideways at the bed. "Where does he sleep?"

"Not with me," he says hurriedly. "He's fixed himself up a bed roll here."

"Just checking," she grins slyly. "It's good to know what I'm up against."

He rolls his eyes. "I wasn't out on that raft that long."

Her face clouds over slightly and she focuses on eating a few more bites of her dinner.

"I got a new job this week."

Mouth full, "Really? Doing what?"

"It's sort of a personal assistant thing at this advertising firm. The pay's pretty good and the hours are regular so. . ."

She shrugs. "I wasn't too sure about bartending in New York, especially at night."

"Regular hours are probably better for the squirt, too."

His eyes stay on his food for a bit. "Your boss don't... he ain't tried nothin' with you, has he? 'Cause they do that sometimes."

"I haven't actually started yet," she says, watching him watch his food.

"He wouldn't be successful, you know. If he did try something."

"Still, if he does try..." He lets the rest of that statement go unsaid. He's not even sure he could get out the door to enforce whatever it is he'd do to the offending boss.

"I'll drop his coffee in his lap and then I'll come straight here and let you know," she promises quietly.

He grins. "That's my girl."

And then there's that smile again.

"Yes," she says simply and hides her face behind her wine glass as she takes another sip.

"I missed you, sweetheart. I mean, you were there on the island -- sort of -- but I missed you."

That makes twice that he's stolen her breath since she arrived. She searches his face and shakes her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"I thought it would be easier," she murmurs. "To say goodbye to you rather than stay and constantly worry about you. But there wasn't a second that went by that I didn't miss you. Want you."

He can't think of anything that wouldn't sound like he was trying to pick at old wounds, so he just replies, "Yeah, I know, sweetheart."