The Ghost that Haunts You Isn't Always Dead {Ana}

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

After his meeting with Hibbs, Sawyer had retreated to his room. With everything else that was already going on, how was he supposed to deal with this too? His life was under a microscope, his purpose was gone, and now he had to deal with the threat of someone exposing his crimes and landing him right back in jail. Part of him thought that he should just give up; for someone with nothing left to live for, why did he fight so hard to survive? Was it just because he was stubborn, or that he thought he deserved to suffer? Or was there something, deep down, though longed for redemption and the chance at a new life?

Finishing the bottle of whiskey he’d had stashed in his room he had to get out of there. The room was too small, the air thick with his crimes and his problems. Grabbing his leather coat, he snuck out of the hotel, walking quickly as he could to lose himself in shadows, away from prying eyes. He knew if he wanted to avoid anyone else he knew that the Stone Pony was probably not his best choice after the run in with Charlotte and Miles, but it was the closest bar to the hotel all he wanted was somewhere he could get quick.

Keeping to the back alleys, the conman made it there with no incident and no recognition. Finding a seat at the bar, he kept his head lowered, his long hair shielding his eyes, and tried to be as inconspicuous yet unapproachable as possible as he waited for the bartender to approach. Hopefully most people wouldn’t notice him, and those who did would know not to bother him.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

"Full house, boys," Ana-Lucia called it as in turn she slapped down her cards onto the counter. Sitting Indian style, she sat perching on top of the bar, facing the three other players that had crowded around the one end. Not many people were hanging around just yet, too early in the evening for hoards of people to come, though the sun was just about set. One or two people sat at the bar and a few people were at the booths in the back of the large room, eating some food. Not much work for a barmaiden, which was why three of her staff were hanging around with her in a sort break, none of the customers didn't seem to mind either, or pay attention they were all taken care of for the moment. A huff of disapproval came from the three as they all slapped their lesser cards onto the table top.

"Nice comeback Ana."

"Hey your the one who wanted to raise the stakes."

"Only cause you kept complaining about it."

As they bickered amongst themselves, Ana almost smirked, almost, while she began to gather winnings, an even eighty dollars worths. Still somewhat in her foul mood, she had since mellowed a bit, drinking down a few shots since her arrival and a beer that was sitting on the counter in front of her, next to the card pile. "C'mon guys back to work," she told them, nudging them, trying to stop the bickering before something bigger erupted, though she knew one wouldn't happen, at least while she was around.

"C'mon, not one more round? I need to win me some cash back."

As if on cue, the door opened and in came another customer that bee-lined to the bar, she noted with a glance over her shoulder. "You got customers waiting," she told him, nudging him somewhat as she grabbed the cash and scooted off the bar. Standing once more, she shoved the wad of cash in her pocket without much further thought and grabbed her beer off the counter, taking it with her as she made her way to the new customer. She did however spare a glance to the guys to give them a look when they were still standing around, finally moving and heading back to do their jobs respectively.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked the man, whose face was curtained by his hair, when her attention was turned back to him. Leaning on the counter a bit, her weight somewhat resting on her palms, she waited for an order.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Sawyer wasn’t seated too long before the bartender approached. With his head still bowed, all he could see was her hands and her midriff.

“Just gimme a whiskey,” he replied gruffly. Damn Hibbs. How much was it going to take to buy that bastard off? The settlement from Oceanic better be hefty, but the more he got the more everyone would want. And with the knowledge his former partner had, there was only one way to get rid of him. Sawyer just didn’t know if he was prepared to walk that path again.

“And leave tha bottle.”

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

"Whiskey it is," Ana replied, shuffling along to get his drink, but that didn't stop her from looking over her shoulder as she turned. The southern accent struck her funny and she wasn't sure why. But then it wasn't often she got someone with an accent that wasn't from California, or anything from the south really. Though, she also just attributed it to the fact the guy looked like he'd been in hell and back, his appearance, while she didn't get a good look at his face, it also struck her weird. Kinda mopey looking actually.

"Hey Ana, can I get my usual?"

Another voice called out as she poured the man's drink, non-surprising one of he older usuals popped in, she hadn't heard the door open again. Though, it was understandably as the music in the background had been turned up. As he sat down at one of the other stools, she flashed grin in his direction. "Sure, man I'll be right with ya," she told him, turning on her heel to place the drink in front of the Southerner, but not before placing a coaster beneath. "One whiskey with the bottle," she told him then placing it right now next to it. "Anything else I can getcha, cowboy?" she asked tilting her head to the side.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

He was too much in the limelight now. Even at times like these when he thought he had escaped them and could get a moment of peace he just couldn’t be certain someone wasn’t watching him. If Hibbs tipped off the authorities about Duckett as well as Sawyer’s other illegal activities, he would end up in prison at the least. If he took care of Hibbs so the details never got out he would probably end up in prison for that. It was a lose-lose situation and he didn’t even know where to start trying to work his way out of this one.

The drink suddenly appearing in front of him, Sawyer broke out of his reverie. For a minute a wave of recognition swept over him as the bar maiden spoke, but he passed it off quickly.

Taking the glass in his left hand, the southerner downed the drink in one shot before setting it back on the bar. In silent answer to the question he just shook his head. There wasn’t anything she could possible get him right now that would do any better than the whiskey, and even that was only a temporary fix.

Pouring another glass, he brought it to his lips again, feeling the liquor burn as it slid down his throat.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

From the south and left handed, Ana thought making a mental note as she watched him pick up the glass. It was gone before she could even blink and the glass wasn't even parted from his mouth a moment before she saw him going to fill it up again. "Rough night, huh?" she muttered, though she thought it best to only push that far with inquiry. The guy clearly didn't seem like he wanted to be bothered all that much. The slouch and the face curtained by his hair was a dead give-away, he was trying to close off and ward off anyone that might bother him, no doubt.

"Holler if you need anything, all right?" she told him a second before she moved off to to grab another drink, this time for the old man sitting a few seats away from the other. Grabbing a tall glass this time, she went straight to the fountain, turning it on as the amber liquid poured straight out, a cloud of froth seeping to the top before she set it down in front of him. "Here you go," she told him, knowing that would be all until he finished his one drink. He never was in a hurry either.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Grunting in reply, Sawyer was on his third glass when he started to notice the affects of the bottle he’d drank before coming here. Damn Hibbs for coming back and screwing his life up more. Damn Kate for stealing his heart and stomping on it. Damn Jack and his god damn hero complex. He couldn’t have left well enough alone. He couldn’t have left Sawyer back there on the Island where he belonged.

Belonged. Now there was a word he’d never used before. Did he really belong back there? Did he really belong anywhere? Downing another glass, the conman ran a hand back through his hair, growling in frustration. Sawyer was a conman, he moved around, he used people and he took their money. He didn’t belong anywhere. And James Ford... who the hell was James Ford anyways?

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

A half hour and five shots later, courtesy of one of the customers, Ana was collecting one of the tips left by her dealings. Making it a total of forty bucks accumulated already, she wasn't feeling too shabby. Shoving up the clips up in the cash register, she put in some cash before shoving the wad of tip money in the jar. Hitting the money tray with her hip to shut it closed, she turned around and scanned the bar for anyone that might need her assistance. A few guys were huddled in the corner watching some game on the television, their beers still half-full. The old guy Moe, was still handling the third beer and his newcoming buddy next to him was still drowning down his first one she'd given him, and the couple were too busy into each other to really pay attention to the drinks they'd paid for, which left the one guy by himself to her attention.

She hadn't bothered to bug him, figuring he was just one of those guys that liked to drown his sorrows by himself. Running her fingers through her hair then, she sidled up next to the bar, in front of him. The large bottle of whiskey she'd given him was surprisingly just about gone. Must of had a really shitty day. "How you holding up?" she asked him, wondering if he was done or if he needed another bottle, as he hadn't signaled for her attention but at this stage of the game, she was surprised he wasn't floundering around like all the other trashed men that came in.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Each glass poured seemed to take longer to drink, but finally his thoughts were starting to get jumbled and fuzzy. Good, he didn’t want to think right now. He didn’t want to think ever. Of course it didn’t help that the things he had to think about were all confusing and painful. Not thinking was much preferable.

Finishing off... whatever number glass this was, Sawyer set it down on the edge of the coaster when the bartender approached him. Looking forward, there was that midriff again. Raising his eyes slightly... oh yeah, nice rack.

“Ha, just dandy,” he replied sarcastically, his words slightly slurred as he made another grab for the bottle.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

His line of sight for a moment didn't go unnoticed by Ana for a second. Rolling her eyes up at the ceiling a moment, she brought her arms up to cross them over her breasts before his attention went right back to the bottle. Honestly... some men, she thought mentally shaking her head. Though, she was used to it by now, from both the bar, and her other jobs. Jumping over and trying to plummet them or at the very least throw an insult never really worked and you ended up losing customers that way.

"This it for the night, cowboy? Or you going to try your luck with round two and see how far you get?" she asked him, curiously. But with the way he was slurring slightly, he'd probably get a quarter bottle, half if he was lucky, before he'd crash on the counter top. It was a rare day indeed when she got someone that could down an entire two bottles of whiskey, or the one time she got some someone who actually manage to get to three. She'd surprising managed to win the bet she'd had going with one of the guys on that drunk as a skunk guy, could hardly make it out of the bar with his buddies carrying him, let alone find his way out of a paper bag.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Round two? Counting what he’d drank of the bottle back at the hotel, the way he saw it he was going for round three. He might have lost count of the number of drinks he’d had, but he could still count the bottles. He had enough fingers on one hand for that.

He was far from down for the count, that was for sure, no matter what this woman thought. Placing his hands on the bar, Sawyer pushed himself to his feet.

“How far I get? I could drink ya under the table an-“ he started to say but stopped mid sentence when he finally let his eyes fix on the woman’s face. His expression changed quickly to one of horrific recognition, as if he’d seen a ghost. For, in Sawyer’s mind, that was exactly what he was looking at.

Taking a step backwards quickly to put some distance between them, he caught his foot on the leg of the barstool and sent himself, ass over kettle, to the floor.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

One minute the guy was rambling his mouth off, the next he was making faces at her like she had three heads and then he... well... he wasn't doing much of anything other then tripping over his feet and landing flat on his ass. The cocky smirk that had come onto her face when he said that he could drink her under the table had slipped away as her face became more seriously, and she hiked up on the bar, looking over at the mess of a man sprawled on the ground. Looked to her like someone couldn't handle her liqueur...

Quickly moving, she pulled herself the rest of the way on top the bar, before she dropped down. "Okay... As much I would absolutely love to take up that challenge of drinking you under the table," she began, coming over to his side and taking one of his arms as she tried to help him to his feet. "You, my friend, seem to have just had a little to much fun tonight." However, there was something definitely odd about the man before her. Just the way he looked at her with those big blue eyes... she wanted to say it was the drinking, but there was an odd familiarity about it all.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

God damn it, that had hurt! But any pain he’d felt from hitting the floor only lasted an instant before being quickly forgotten because there was Ana-Lucia leaping the bar and coming after him.

What the hell was in that last bottle?

Maybe he’d passed out on the bar and this was just some horrible dream. Or maybe the whiskey goggles were making him see her when it wasn’t really here. That had to be it because there was no way it was her. Just a close facsimile. He had seen her body. Hell, he had buried her.

Jerking his arm away as if her touch burned him, Sawyer scrambled backward on the floor, still staring up at her with wide eyes. Hell, she even sounded the same.

“This ain’t really what I’d call fun!” he blurted out.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

That look just continued to mar his features, twisted into something horrified as if she was carrying the plague, or something similiar. It confused her, it confused her to no end really. Did she do something to the guy she didn't know but she tried to mask the confusion on her face, especially when he pulled out of her grasp and shimmied away from her on the floor. "Yeah, falling flat on your ass probably isn't any fun, I'd bet," she told him, but there was an odd feeling of deja vu as she could only stare at him, her brow wrinkling some.

"Everything all right here, Ana?" the voice said, and Ana snapped her attention away to looked up from her spot that she was crouched in to the face of one of the waiters, concern lacing his feature.

"I got it don't worry, Tye... Can you... can you go in the back and see if everything is okay with Mark? I thought I just heard some glass break," she lied through her teeth. She didn't know why, she told him that. Maybe to get him away, but she didn't know for some purpose. Whether he believed it or not, he thankfully turned and stalked through the swinging kitchen doors, and she looked around the room to see some people staring in their direction, and she uncomfortably glanced back at the Southernor, feeling as though she was missing something. "Listen... People are kind of... staring? Can you stand?" she questioned, hoping he'd give up whatever charade he was giving. But man, if this day wasn't getting weirder and weirder.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

"Everything all right here, Ana?" Ana. Ana. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t even tell himself that she had a twin sister, or go by that ‘everyone has a twin in the world’ theory because, even if either was true, they would not have the same name.

He had to get out of here. He had to... he had to find someone, someone who knew here, someone who could confirm he wasn’t stuck in some nightmare of his own doing. Or, preferably, someone who could confirm that and wake him the hell up. As if he wasn’t already screwed up enough in the head, now he was seeing ghosts.

But she wasn’t a ghost. She had touched him, he had felt her; she was real.

“Yeah, I, uh...” Sawyer started, struggling to push himself to his feet while keeping some distance between them. “Where’s tha phone?”

Even as he stood he was already searching his pocket for a quarter.