(Untitled)

[little_moons]

We had breakfast, all four of us together, and later, the girls'll go off with Kara and Tom and I'll have the night to ourselves. We need it, we really do, and it also means I don't feel like such a fuckin' asshole for askin' him to give me a few hours to be on my own

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[teenagerenegade]

He's been looking for Neil for what feels like hours by the time he finds him. He waits for a little while, sitting in the sand with his heels dug in and a loosely wrapped package between his feet. It's not much, but it's something.

For family, it's something.

"Happy birthday," he says, quietly.

[little_moons]

Coughing out a laugh, I prop my board up in the sand, bending over him to press a kiss to the top of his head, dripping salt water all over him before sitting down in the sand at his side.

"Thanks," I say, grinning crookedly and pointing at the package between his feet. "That for me?"

[teenagerenegade]

It's hot, so the drips of water don't bother Charlie too much. He rolls his eyes and picks up the package, holding it out. He tilts his head to one side.

"It's not much."

[little_moons]

"Damn, that's disappointin'. I was hopin' for diamonds," I mutter dryly, rolling my eyes and taking the little package from him.

I tear open the paper, grinning at the little woven bracelet inside, not that different from the one Joe made me nearly five years ago, that I wore until it fell off.

"You gonna tie it on for me?"

[one__song]

How Roger remembered it was Neil's birthday, he had no idea. Maybe Dean had mentioned it? Maybe Roger's pathetic little crush had set up a timer in his head that allowed him to know not only when he was within range, but also when he became older or single.

Not that the last one would happen, but Roger wasn't that hopeless quite yet.

"Happy birthday, fucker!" Roger called from the shore.

[little_moons]

"Aw, honey, you remembered," I call back to him, abandoning my board on dry sand and closing the distance. Once I'm close enough, I shake the wetness from my hair, splattering him with little droplets of seawater.

"Where's my fuckin' present?"

[one__song]

"Up my fuckin' ass," Roger mocked in return, patting his back hard in a half-hug. He shoved him away once the contact was over, wrinkling his nose at the sudden wetness.

[little_moons]

"You can keep it, then," I mutter, rolling my eyes and catching him by the front of the shirt when he tries to shove me away.

"I gave myself the day off. Hope you got by, without me." Friday morning announcements are generally boring as fuck. Unless the island's fuckin' with us, or some fuckin' maniac's on the loose again, there's not a whole lot to say.

[badblood_rising]

Sometimes Sam thinks it's a shame he hasn't learned to surf yet, or done much of anything in the water yet. They're on an island so it should be just as natural as breathing: jumping into the ocean after a run or relaxing on the sand in the sun just because you can. But Sam hasn't done any of those things a lot and a part of him is proud of it. The part that refuses to accept this as his reality. But that part's been getting quieter and quieter as time passes, evidenced by his very presence on the shore on this day.

He's waiting for Neil. A year ago Sam might not have bothered.

When Neil finally does drag his ass out of the water, Sam's grinning faintly and shaking his head. "You're so native it hurts sometimes to look at you, dude," he says, mostly because it doesn't feel right to be perfectly nice to him first thing.

[little_moons]

"Man, I am so fuckin' native, I don't think I could make it out in the real world, anymore," I admit with a snort of laughter, finding a spot on dry land to put my board down and pushing my hands back through my hair as I make my way over to him. It's probably time for a trim.

"Not that I was doin' such a bang up job of it before, but whatever," I shrug, flashing him a crooked grin. "Hell must've froze over, man. I never see you out here."

[badblood_rising]

"Yeah, well, Hell freezing over would get me out here," Sam replies wryly, a minute roll of his eyes. There's a reason it seems like Sam never relaxes; more like hundreds of reasons, all of which call Hell home. It's easy enough not to think about every minute of the day, but harder to forget long enough to enjoy a full day at the beach.

"But short of that, I make exceptions for special occasions," he says. "Happy birthday."

[little_moons]

Coughing out a laugh, I say, "Special, huh? Thanks," and maybe it shouldn't be a surprise that he knows -- not with Dean around, but it's still not really what I expected.

"We oughta get you a board. I could teach you a few things."

[hightail]

She's sinking.

Kate can't remember exactly how long it has been. Years, she guesses, because after the island, she didn't spend too much time at the beach. There were a few moments here and there, scattered over the years at times when she felt particularly nostalgic or masochistic, staring out at the ocean and wondering if her friends were still alive. If they were looking up at the same horizon, the same setting sun. What they'd think if they could see her. Maybe it would make a difference in opinion that she'd gone back, but this island got in the way, and now she may never know.

The waves wash over her feet, take another layer of sand back out into the sea. She sinks. From the corner of her eye, Kate spots an approaching figure, the surfer she noticed some time ago and promptly forgot. "Hey," she nods, trying to place him, mostly failing. "You're a friend of Sawyer's, right?"

[little_moons]

It takes me a second to hear her, to realize it's me she's talking to. She's familiar, in that vague sort of way that just about everyone around here is. Pretty, but that's normal around here, too.

Huffing out a laugh as I make my way over to her, I say, "Uh, yeah. I guess I am." Never really figured that'd be one of my identifiers, but okay.

[hightail]

"I'm Kate," she volunteers, lifting one hand in a small wave. Briefly, she considers how to describe her relationship to Sawyer, with Sawyer, but finding herself at a loss for the right word - or words - she decides to leave it alone. Instead, she tells him, "He, uh - We're from the same place."

[little_moons]

"Seems like there's a lotta you folks around lately," I say, propping my board up in the sand. "I met Hurley, a couple weeks back."

Bending down to unhook the strap from my ankle, I offer my hand once I straighten back up. "'m Neil."

[weary_head]

Dean's onshore when Neil finally decides to grace it with his presence, hip flung out to balance the weight of the parcel in his hands. It's really not that heavy, but he's been waiting for goddamn forever, not to mention the time he'd spent marching around the island looking for the birthday boy.

"You're a hard little bastard to find," he calls conversationally.

[little_moons]

"Bullshit. I been here this whole time," I grin, dropping my board in the sand and unhooking the strap from my ankle.

Looking up at him through the damp fringe of my hair, I glance at the package on his hip, smirk and say, "What the hell's that?"

[weary_head]

"Your present, asshole," says Dean, peeling the top away so Neil can look. It's a pie, horribly burnt around the crusts and weird looking in the middle - probably undercooked. Jess had said something about pie shields and weights and how it was the thought that counts, and Dean's clinging to it.

"It'll probably kill you if you eat it. Least those middle bits."

[little_moons]

"Dude, I love you, but that's the ugliest fuckin' pie I ever seen," I say, taking the box from him and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to drag him into a one-armed hug.

"Guess it's a step up from the coconut you gave me, that one time," I tease, wondering if he even remembers that. We didn't even really know each other that well, back then, and at the time, it had been funny that he'd given me anything at all.