Imagine if they had food like this on the island. The others would probably be a hell of a lot nicer, for one thing. It ain't easy to be all pissed off and annoyed all the time when you got a big old slice of hot apple pie and vanilla ice cream.

"Bottoms up, Freckles." It's usually what they say to a shot of whiskey, but it works just as good with pie, and damn, baby, that pie's good. Seems a shame to have wasted it yesterday, but they got themselves a second chance, and this do-over's workin' out just fine. After this he might have to undo his hypothetical belt and rest a bit.

He wonders what Freckles is gonna be up to, even though it ain't really no more his business today than it was the day before yesterday. But the memory of Freckles lyin' against him in his bed is a powerful good one, and he sure hopes they get a second chance at that.

Time will tell. Just 'cause a man wants somethin' doesn't mean he always gets it, but last he checked, dreamin' was free. Does she really have carte blanche? No, and the both of 'em know it. No one does. But at the moment, he's inclined to be a lot nicer about it than he has been.

But just for her. With anyone else, the deal's off. 'Course, it was never on with no one but her anyhow.