"Chocolate cheesecake. Freckles, you been livin' the high life."

Like he never ate apple pie with ice cream before, he makes pretty damn short work of his. He eats it like he's makin' up for lost time and in a way he is, even though he's been here longer than they were on the island. But it ain't just the island: he's got more'n that to make up for. There's that time he did for connin' Cass: wasn't no apple pie in prison. There's the time in Australia: all he remembers about that is drink and death and that's why the Sox will never will the series. Imagine that, runnin' into the doc's daddy in that bar of all places, and takin' his advice just 'cause he seemed wise.

Just goes to show.

A sudden stab of pain grabs at his leg. "Son of a..." As unobtrusive as possible, he stretches and flexes his leg, rubs its surface real light. Much as he hates to admit it, it's probably time for him to take care of it. Take a damn aspirin or have a damn beer at least.

And she'll either come with him or she won't. He sure ain't expecting 'em to move in together or nothin' just 'cause of yesterday.