A doctor and a conman walk into a bar...

[Jack Shephard]

Despite everything, Jack found himself smirking slightly. "My love life has been been horrible." he agreed with a slight laugh, watching as the bartender poured another drink. Crash landing on the Island hadn't brought his love-life to life, per se, either. He knew he had been happy at some points in his love life. He could remember times where he had been supremely happy; his wedding night had been one of the nights he would have never forgotten. It had been full of drunken giggles and whispers that neither would ever leave one another. Never. The time he had spent with Achara before he had gotten kicked out of Phuket, he had been happy. Content.

The moment Kate had kissed him...

Jack looked over at Sawyer as the bartender poured another glassfull, and he smirked slightly. "I mean, I'll--I'll tell you the truth. My love life hasn't been all bad." Jack said, taking another sip. His limbs were starting to feel tingly, he felt his body start to relax. "I mean, before Achara got me kicked out of Phuket, she--that was fun. It was one of the best months I've ever had." However, had he been in love with Achara? He had gone to Phuket to get away from Sarah, to drown his sorrows in cheap Thai beer and spent his nights sitting on the beach, but did he love her? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything about Achara anymore after what she had done to him. What he had wanted her to do...

Unconsciously, Jack moved, scratching an itch on his arm where his tattoo was. "But, um...yeah, my love life is pretty much shitty as all hell." Jack said with a slight laugh, shaking his head slightly as he took another gulp. "What about you? Should I even stretch my brain to go as far as to say there's carbon copies of you running around?" The thought alone was enough to worry Jack, however, he wasn't sure if Sawyer had children. Or any that he knew of, at least.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

The win for worst love life Sawyer could definitely give Jack, as Sawyer’s own had been all about the cons. It had never been about love, not until Kate, and she was the last thing he wanted to think about now. It was so easy to blame her for his problems, even if she was going through something much worse at this moment.

Phuket? That was somewhere in... Thailand, wasn’t it? With that hero complex and never say die attitude, Sawyer was surprised that Jack had left work long enough to go gallivanting around Thailand. Hell, the doctor was just full of surprises.

“I hear tha girls there can be pretty wild,” he said with a grin. His vision was starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges, and it was getting easier to forget about his own troubles. At least the most recent ones. Jack’s question of course was an unnecessary reminder of something that, as far as Sawyer was concerned, was completely over. Cassidy... that had been a mistake. He had gotten in over his head, growing to care about her when he knew it was dangerous. He had tried to call off the con, but to protect her life, and his own, he had had to go through with it. He hated himself for it, but he had finished it. If only that had been the end. The photograph she had showed him while in jail was etched upon his mind. Not his daughter. He had left the money for her to make up for what he had done to Cassidy. It was not an acceptance of her as his child, it was to make up for a past wrong. That was all. He had convinced himself of that by now.

“I ain’t got no kids,” he practically growled, his previous humour melting away instantly. The one thing he could be grateful of regarding Kate was that she wasn’t pregnant. That was the last thing he needed.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack smirked slightly as Sawyer talked about the girls in Thailand. "She, uh," he started with a grin before taking another sip of alcohol. "Well, she did things Sarah would have never even thought about doing." Jack commented with a smirk. Achara was fun, but she had confused and bewildered him...he had gotten into something because of her that he had to rush out of Thailand to get away from. Jack wasn't even sure it was really gone. The tattoo was still there. It's meaning still branded on his skin, into his soul. "She, uh...she did alot of things for me."

However, Jack looked over at Sawyer as he heard the harshness in his tone. He raised h is eyebrows for a brief second. "It was just a question." he said before downing the last in his glass.He moved, resting his head on his arms on the top of the bar, before tapping the bar surface for another glass. "Sarah wanted kids. She said she wanted a girl. I wanted a boy. I don't think it mattered in the beginning; all that mattered was how much we enjoyed trying." He knew he wanted a boy because he was going to show his father that he could treat his son right. He wouldn't put him down, he wouldn't show him that the only good thing in life was a good bottle of scotch and a heavy helping of ego stroking before dinner. He'd show him that a father should love his son no matter how much he hated himself.

He'd show him that even through all of that, deep down, he still loved him.

"I don't know if I could have kids. I wouldn't want them turning out like me. Or worse. My father."

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

What happened in Thailand sounded like a whole ‘nother story all together. One that Sawyer wouldn’t mind hearing, but what also sounded like a Vegas thing. What happens in Phuket stays in Phuket. Did a lot of things for him. Hell, it sounded more like she did a lot of things to him. But it didn’t matter as that entertaining subject was soon left behind in favour of a much weightier one. Children.

Damn, was he glad that Kate wasn’t pregnant, his reaction had not been exaggerated. He already had one woman out there claiming to have his kid, and he didn’t need another one, especially when that other one would be Kate. What the hell would they do with a kid? She was a runner, he a conman, both of them criminals. They didn’t stick around, they didn’t get the white picket fence. They didn’t do responsibility. The kid would have just ended up having a shit life, just like its parents. And now, with Kate in jail...

Slamming the glass on the bar a little harder than intended, Sawyer rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to focus on Jack’s words and forget his own thoughts. It was easy to do when he found the good doctor putting himself down. As much as he annoyed Sawyer at times, and as many times as he had just wanted to haul off and flatten Jack, Sawyer knew that any kid that turned out like the doctor would be a good one.

“I met yer dad. Sure, I didn’t talk ta him all that long, but it was long enough ta know that ya ain’t him,” the southern man drawled, tilting his head to look over at Jack. “He knew it too. He was proud’a ya, and any kid that turned out like you would be somethin’ ta be proud’a too.”

[Jack Shephard]

Jack jerked slightly as the glass slammed onto the bar, and he glanced over at Sawyer. He started to speak of how he met his father, and instantly, his stomach clenched and he could feel the harsh burn stabbing at the back of his eyes. "When you saw my father, he was drunk." Jack said after a moment. "There's two kinds of drunk my father was. There's the drunk that I could go ask for ten dollars and he'd smile and say 'Sure, kiddo, here you go.' he'd instantly fish out a hundred not knowing the difference. He'd tell me that he loved me, but he'd slur his words so I knew he didn't mean it. Then--then there was the drunk that would love any chance to break me down. He'd pick and cut and search his way through every inch of me trying to find anything to use to bring me down."

Jack looked from the glass to Sawyer. "He just gave you a hundred dollar speech when all you wanted was the ten."

It was a comforting though that Christian told a random stranger that he loved his only son, that he was proud of him, but if that was true, why hadn't he ever said it to him before? All he would have needed was ' I love you', and Jack would have been over the moon with happiness.

But he'd never get that chance now. Jack swallowed the lump in his throat, and shook his head. "But he's dead now. So it's not like he can tell me himself." That reminded Jack, and he felt a sigh escape his lips as he moved to rub his face. "I have to call the funeral home tomarrow. Tell them that...he didn't quite make the trip."

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

As he listened to Jack, Sawyer looked back at the bar as felt a spark of rage within him. He wanted to grab Jack by the front of the shirt and yell at him to suck it up, because at least he had had a dad growing up to give him any kind of speech. He hated the rich and their whining over shit that shouldn’t matter compared to what the blue collar class had to deal with. But no sooner did he feel that anger when it was already fading. This wasn’t about that at all.

“Look, I known a lotta drunks in my life, and this guy... this wasn’t no speech. He knew exactly what he was sayin’,” Sawyer cut in. He didn’t know why he was so insistent that Jack believe him, but no son should ever have to live thinking his daddy didn’t give a damn about him.

He didn’t envy what Jack had to face tomorrow, though. No chance to even come to grips with cheating his own death before having to face mortality.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack looked down into his glass as if it held the entire world's secrets in it. He scoffed slightly as Sawyer said that his father knew what he was saying. He brought the drink up to his lips, and slowly took a drink, staring at the reflection of himself and Sawyer from the bar.

"Maybe it's better for me to think that he didn't mean it." Jack said after a moment of silence, moving to run his hand over the stubble on his cheek. "Because it's all fine and well to say that you love your son and you're proud of him and he's such a better man than you are...but when you can't even have the balls to say it to his face?" he asked, and then looked over at Sawyer. "It sorta loses it's luster." Jack finished his glass, shaking his head. "Deep down, I know he loved me. He just had a really fucked up way of showing it. However," Jack watched as the bar tender filled his glass once again. "It's much easier for me to think that our last moment together was just a regular arguement than neither one of us having the guts to say goodbye. That neither one of us knew it would be the last one we'd ever have." Somehow, Jack had known. Maybe he hadn't known that his father would have died, but their last arguement left a sour taste in Jack's mouth after it had happened, so much so that Jack had tried calling him over and over again, telling him to come home, that he was sorry...that they'd work it out.

Jack took in a breath and downed the glass in one gulp, feeling his head spin slightly. "Or maybe he knew that he was going to Australia to die and none of it meant a damn thing."

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

While Jack went on, Sawyer returned to his drink. There was really nothing he could say in this situation. Nothing would make it better, nothing would really have any affect. Jack had been left with no closure, and now there was never going to be another chance to get it. His father was dead, and their last words to each other had been said in anger.

He couldn’t argue that the last statement could be true as well. The man had looked fairly resolved that he was never going to talk to his son again, and that it was all over. Maybe he had gone to Australia to die. As far from his shame as he could get.

“So tha bastard was a drunk and a coward. He have any good points?” Sawyer asked sarcastically, setting his empty glass back on the bar. His head was starting to swim, only this time with liquor, not thoughts or confusion. Much more preferable, this.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack felt one shoulder lift up in a shrug as he brought the glass up to his lips again. "He--" Jack started, his words starting to slur slightly. "He taught me how to be a better doctor. Even...even if he was a shitty one to begin with, he taught me how to be better doctor. He taught me how to give people hope even when I didn't believe it. He taught me that it wasn't a lie if there was even a small inkling of hope or possibility. Even if you could only see a tiny glimmer of that hope, it wasn't a lie."

Truth had it that Jack had used that very skill more than once on the Island. He hadn't exactly lied to the survivors whenever he had told them everything he had told them over the past three months...but had he believed it? Sometimes, he hadn't. He hadn't believe it and yet, he had to say it to them to keep them together. Maybe his father had given him more than he thought. But reality was that Christian had given him more pain than happiness.

"...but really, all he gave the ability to never really trust myself and the ability to drink alot. Oh, and he taught me how to play Sudoku. Does that count?"

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Apparently his sarcasm fell on deaf ears. He didn’t care if the guy had good points, and didn’t rightly want to hear about them, but soon Jack had launched into yet another heart warming diatribe. At this rate, one more drink and the doc would be crying, trying to hug him and saying ‘I love you, man!’ which would only end up landing him tits up on the floor.

Actually, Sawyer almost hoped he’d try it.

Shaking his head, the conman quickly retracted that thought as the movement made him woozy. He was fine while he was sitting down but if he stood up, he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him, and trying to throw Jack off him would probably only land them both on the floor. What a right mess that would be.

“Sure, why not? Though not as much as tha ability ta drink a lot. That’s a trait I’da been grateful ta get, but I had ta learn that ability all by my lonesome,” Sawyer replied, his southern drawl becoming thicker with each drink. Looking over at Jack, he grinned. “Though I dunno if you can count that one either. A few shots and you’re plastered outta yer tree!”

Alright, so more than a few shots, but who was counting?

[Jack Shephard]

A scoff escaped Jack's lips, a smirk spreading on his face as he looked at Sawyer. "Fuck you. It's been--it's been more than a couple of drinks." Jack told him, looking at the near empty bottle of whiskey on the counter. The bartender was wiping down the counter on the other side of the bar, and Jack reached over, grabbing the bottle and pouring some into Sawyer's glass before his own. "I guess I should be glad that I didn't slam them down on the plane wanted to. I stumbled out of the jungle enouh as it is."

Of course, if the stewardess that had flirted with him on the plane hadn't given him the other bottles, he wouldn't have been able to clean the wound to his back when he had, and infection would have set in...and he would have died on the island on the first day.

He set the bottle down drunkenly, hearing the bottom clatter against the bar. He brought the glass up to his lips, "And I'm--I'm not drunk. I'm...well, I'm damn well not perfectly sober, but I'm certainly not trashed. At all." he gulped down the drink. "I just can't believe I'm sitting here in the Roosevelt slamming down drinks and not on an island. The last time I was here at the Roosevelt was...I think I came here with Sarah once for our aniversery."

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Sawyer chuckled as Jack defended himself, then proceeded to take it upon himself to top up each of their glasses again, no longer caring what he was drinking anymore. Messy drunk indeed, but entertaining as all get out. If hard pressed, Sawyer might actually have to admit that he liked Jack like this. Maybe ‘like’ is too strong of a word, but it was good to see the guy loosen up. He was always so tightly wound on the Island, like an entire wing of the plane had gotten lodged somewhere very painful during the crash.

“Not trashed at all?” Sawyer repeated, clearly not believing Jack at all. Then Jack mentioned the ex wife again. If Sawyer had to make a guess, he’d bet that the marriage hadn’t ended all that long ago. “Ya think ya did? How many anniversaries y’all actually have? This don’t seem like tha kinda place ya forget all that quick.”

[Jack Shephard]

"We were married for a year...no, wait, a year and a half. But, um...we dated for two years before we got married. Our first date was in her hospital room." Jack told Sawyer, glancing down at his glass. "We, uh...Sarah always used to say we had two aniverseries; one was for when we got married...and then when she learned she could walk again because she said it was the moment she knew she loved me. She used to call me her miracle worker. Her hero." A sad smile spread onto Jack's face for a brief moment before it spread slowly into a frown. "We should have had another aniversery...the day I realised that she was a cheating whore."

All he had wanted to know was his name. "I just...I just wanted to know his name. I saw his face, I knew exactly what he looked like but I just wanted to know his name so I could call him and see if he was enjoying fucking my wife every night. I wanted to ask him how long he had been sleeping with her and if he fucked her in my bed while I was at work. I wanted to tell him my name so he knew who I was when she screamed my name. I wanted to tell him every place that could sink his fingers into her to make her moan, every place on her body that he could kiss to make her laugh, so he would know that *I* had found them first. That they were MINE."

As he filtered his words back through his alcohol-filled brain, he wondered if he sounded like he still loved her. He wondered if he sounded desperate. Jack wasn't sure if he still loved her or not, but he knew that he had been jaded. Burned and broken and that the alcohol was fueling the anger. "But she never told me. And I never found out. I don't know if I even care anymore."

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

So Jack’s obsession with being a great man and a better doctor stemmed from his daddy issues while ultimately his hero complex had become concrete due to his wife. Those were some real screwed up family problems right there. He had made the woman walk again and she had married him. Was that part of the reason he had wanted to get them off the Island so bad? If he saved Kate, if he saved them all, would she want to make a go of it? Forcing away his jealous at the thought, Sawyer focused on the story at hand and he couldn’t help but wonder: what was it that had made Jack fall from grace in the eyes of his wife, so much so that she would seek out other men? Maybe the hero shtick just got old after a while, or maybe there was more to it.

Finishing his drink, Sawyer turned his attention fully to Jack, his eyebrows raising higher and higher with each sentence. Yep, the fall out was definitely still recent, or if it wasn’t then Jack was still hung up on Sarah and still feeling resentful and... maybe a little obsessive. If Jack saw the guy, wouldn’t it have just been easier to beat the shit out of him then and there as opposed to stalking and harassing? That’s how Sawyer would have handled it. One good beat down, give her another mess to clean up. Simple, direct and to the point. But Sawyer’s style obviously wasn’t Jack’s style.

For a moment after Jack had finished talking, Sawyer just stared at him. The silence stretched between them for an eternity until the Southern man spoke.

“That’s all ya wanted? Just his name so ya could do all that to him?” he finally asked, before letting out a low whistle. “Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t tell ya.”

For a few seconds he was actually able to hold a straight face, but it didn’t last long before he suddenly burst out laughing.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack looked over at Sawyer as he heard him laughing, until his own face broke out in a smirk. He started laughing slightly, until he drunkenly found himself laughing along with the Con Man. He laughed until his sides hurt, however, he felt it trail off. He shook his head, taking a breath in before he took another drink. "That's not all I wanted. If I could have gotten him alone, I could have thought of a hundred ways to hurt him and make it look like an accident." Jack said after a moment, swirling the glass around, watching as some of the liquid sloshed out. He frowned and brought his finger up, licking the whiskey off. "I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me. I wanted her to feel the way I felt the night she left me. If I couldn't be happy, I didn't want her to be happy because of what she did to me." Jack shrugged slightly. "I'm bitter."

He had been more than bitter for the first few nights after Sarah had left him. He had been furious, drinking himself into a drunken stupor and screaming to no one in the house. "I don't know. I don't think I even want to see her anymore. The first night on the island I thought about her. I missed every part of her...and then the second night went by, and I didn't think of her as much. By the third night, I hardly thought of her at all."