Thursday, February 1, 2007

Breakfast With Benry, Part Deux

Kate: Wow, this is hard work. Those sadistic Other bastards. I'm totally hungry, I haven't eaten a damn thing since that Fishbiscuit Sawyer gave me this morning. That thing was gross...I still have the taste of it in my mouth.

Oh, wait! I've got strawberries from Breakfast w/Benry, hidden in my dress!

Kate: Peeks to make sure no one is watching. Munches on strawberries.

Sawyer: Leers like the yucky hillbilly pervert he is.

Kate: *Must not jump Sawyer yet. Must wait for the Opportune Moment, when Jack can see. Must keep up pretense of being annoyed. This is making me weak in the loins. Must be strong. okay, what can I say that will sound pissed off?*

Quit starin' at my ass.

Sawyer: Fine. I'll stare at your boobs instead.

Kate: *be strong, strong...*'re a pig.

Sawyer: Not very convincin', Freckles. C'mere.

Kate: *Ohhhh, he's gonna kiss me again...must not stick my tongue in his mouth...must not...must not...*

Kate: *Who the hell am I kidding?*

Kate: Totally sticks her tongue in his mouth.

Pickett: Is clearly a Jater, so breaks up the yucky Skate kiss (since Jack isn't even watching, so what's the point?), lets his little bitches whoop on Sawyer for a bit, and flings them in separate cages.

...Later, in the Bear Cages...

Kate: *If it weren't for these bars, I'd have you already...*

What the hell were you thinking?

Sawyer: Just tryin' to cop a feel, Freckles. By the way, I reckon I should mention the results of my inappropriate and utterly perverted plot point of a kiss - - one or two of those boys got some real fight in 'em, the rest I ain't much worried about, and those zapper things got a safety on 'em.

Kate: *Brains AND sex appeal...god help me...*

Sawyer: Oh, and another thing? You taste like strawberries. Where the hell'd you get strawberries, Freckles?

Kate: *Shit, I am so busted. who would have thought he could kiss like that AND scope out the Others AND still notice that I had strawberries for lunch? Damn, that man is good!*

Kate: *Misdirection time* Whatever Jim-Bob, you shameless icky flirt. You taste like Fishbiscuits, and I roll my eyes at you in obvious disgust and annoyance.

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