George picked up the tiny cauldron and its array of tools. She toyed with it for a minute, then put it down again. She watched Carlos work on the futon for another minute, then surveyed the beach.

Rose and Ami were near the cookfire, working on lunch. Ripley and Faith were holding an animated conversation of some kind. Ami's body language suggested that if George were close enough she might see her blushing. Now Ripley was waving around a snakeskin triumphantly.

Farther down the beach Charlie and Harry were involved in a fistfight, rolling around in the sand. Blaise and Locke were rushing in to break it up while Mara and Tommy held a conversation not far away, seemingly oblivious to it. (Or maybe they're just ignoring it,) George thought.

The other survivors were scattered about, some working at various chores, some idle. George was surprised--pleasantly so--to notice that Amanda was nowhere in sight. (Thank God,) George thought. Her obsessive attention was becoming a real pain in the ass. George didn't feel lucky enough to hope that she'd given up her obsession, but she was grateful for the respite.

George glanced briefly at Carlos, busy with the futon. She thought about her conversation with Clarice. She looked at him again, realizing that she was feeling a little nervous around him for the first time since...ever. She toyed with the cauldron again, thinking about what she wanted to ask. Her question was the cause of her anxiety.

"So..." she said, getting his attention. "Teach me some Portugese. How do I say, 'welcome home'?"