@musesforthedamned - Sayid Jarrah
Now, Hurley was not a suspicious man, but finding out early on that Kate was the fugitive had made him more receptive to potential danger among the survivors; Emma may not be directly dangerous for them, but she was definitely not someone who 'entertained sick children at the hospital' for a living, not with the muscles and the look in her eyes whenever the Others came up. Once Claire had been taken, he could see she had totally lost it, and the way she went on tracking and trying to find her was definitely not clown-like. She blamed herself like she was supposed to be able to do something, and when she got frustrated her mask slipped a little.
She did call him moon-pie and baby and sweetie-pie which was nice, she was one of the nicest people he had ever met, always looking after the 'less trained' members of the group, gathering supplies for Claire and Shannon in particular, but Hurley had accidentally spotted a ton of weapons in her tent, and Charlie had told him that once they had found Ethan, using Claire as bait, Emma had fought like a Mortal Combat character before letting Jack take the lead.
Hurley suspected she was some sort of non-evil serial killer.
But then, Charlie had shot Ethan many times, so Charlie wasn't the most well-adjusted person either, and he was still his friend, so Hurley wasn't about to let that stop him from going to the woman who kept bringing him food and called him sweet names.
Whatever she was, a couple of days after Claire's return, Michael had mentioned suspecting some Others-activity up north, and Charlie had tried to join Sayid, so Hurley had declared he had someone better in mind - which Charlie, the person who usually had the 'let's guess what Emma is' talk with him, understood on the spot - and had guided Sayid into the forest, where he knew Emma went to train in the morning.
She was there, had just started doing pull-ups on a branch, when she saw them and let herself drop back on the ground.
"Hi, sweetie-pie! Oh, hey, Sayid!" entirely different tone for the latter, even her smile was suggestive, and Hurley could never tell if she was joking or really that amusingly shameless, "What's up, boys?"
"Michael thinks the Others may be somewhere north from the caves, or at least some of the Others," he started explaining, and felt a shudder at the way her nearly permanently smiling face turned glacial and calculative, "Charlie wanted to go with Sayid, but I thought-"
"Ah, hell no, leave Charlie where he is," she interrupted him, back to normal, "Give me just a sec."
Hurley watched her stride to her backpack, and winced when he actually saw her back; she was wearing a sports bra, so the skin was visible, and it seemed like people had hit her with several different weapons, many, many times. She hid it under the tank top she had gotten from the backpack, and then he saw her get a gun ready - another reason he thought she was scary. Who had a secret gun? Well, not exactly secret, she had checked it in like Locke had done with the knives, but she had refused to tell Jack why she had one in the first place.
And Locke was not the most reassuring person on that island.
Emma put the backpack on, but not before taking out a knife as well to keep closer, on top of the one hidden on the bottom of her shoe, and turned back around.
Hurley, who was her cutest of friends, was giving her an earnest "dude" over the gun, which she ignored with a big smile, and Sayid - oh Sayid, no way she'd let him go after the Others alone. Sayid, to her, was one of the biggest sweethearts around.
Sure, he had tortured Sawyer for Shannon's inhaler, but he had actually felt so bad about it that he had left for a while. And for someone with his background, he sure as hell was soft-spoken and patient. Kind, even.
Yeah, she liked Sayid.
He was also hot, which definitely put her in a great mood.
"Sayid, light of my life, let's go before Charlie changes his mind and joins us. He's too trigger-happy." He had killed Ethan before they had been able to interrogate him, after all. "Do you think we should look for that Rousseau woman too, one of these days? I can't stop thinking about her, all alone on this island…"
