A/N: Ok, if you see this on hottietom's profile, don't sue her or me! This is a collaborative works, as the name suggests. That means that we wrote it together. This is for people who don't take things too seriously, but enjoy a good laugh! All reviews are welcome. Thanks.


No Strings Attached

A flash of lighting filled the sky, followed by a boom of thunder. A bone chilling wind blew, making the flames from the fires dance around. The trees joined them, as if dancing to some unheard music.


"'Shkuzz me." Jack Shepard covered his mouth politely, then broke into yet another fit of giggles, losing his balance and toppling over into the sand, taking the bottle (which he had long ago become far too drunk to identify the contents) with him.

"Man, you say that whenoo burp." As if on cue Michael let out a large burp. "Like tat." He jerkily picked up his bottle, and drank another swig.

Sawyer, who had been lying not far from the two drunk men, was reading more of Watership Down via campfire light. He squinted his eyes, as he was getting another headache. But, that stupid Jackass of a doctor wasn't going to humiliate him again. Or so he thought.

Jack burst out laughing, and clapped, the alcohol sloshing out of the bottle he was holding in his hand. He took another long drink, and hiccupped again.

"I think I might be…" He pushed himself into a half-sitting position in the sand beside Michael. "A teensy bit drunk." He held up his thumb and index finger as close together as he could, as if to demonstrate something very small.

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Only a teensy bit, Dr. Quinn?" He put his book down, and moved away from the fire. "It would seem to me that you're wasted." He leaned in close to them as he brushed past towards the thick bushes surrounding the beach. "Completely wasted."

"Naw…" Jack shook his head. "I've only had -" He peered into the bottle. There was about half-an-inch left in the bottom. "- one bottle." He held up three fingers.

Michael blinked a few times. "Why're holdin up six fingers?" He failed to realize that one hand only had five fingers. He also failed to realize how blurry his vision was. Looking around, he scrunched up his eyebrows. "Where'd Sawyer go?" He was interrupted by a hiccup, and continued. "Owell, he's a pain in the ass anyway." He then finished with another hiccup. Pushing Jack a little, (just enough to make him fall over, and spill a couple drops of his drink) he said "You gave the damn hiccups to me!"

Jack pushed himself back up and looked at Michael, eyes wide and apologetic. "I'm shorry… I didn't mean to." Then his brain clicked onto the other thing his friend had said, and he grinned mischievously. "You wanna know shumthin about Shawyer?"

Michael looked at him with unfocused eyes. He nodded slowly, and hiccupped.

"Well…" Jack began, the cheeky grin spreading further over his face. He didn't realize that he was talking rather loudly, and the people at surrounding campfires were listening and giggling at him, some shocked and some relieved to finally see their unsleeping leader let himself go. "I paid Shawyer a visit today, ya know, doctorly shtuff."

Michael answered with a hiccup. "An'?" He didn't notice as a few people started to not so subtly watch them.

"Well, it turns out tha' Shawyer used to hire dem sex girls…" He continued, taking yet another long swig. "Y'know, proshecutes…" He didn't notice many of the surrounding girls' faces turn deathly pale as he said this. "He was worried tha' he had one o' dose sex diseases."

Sawyer emerged from the bushes, refastening his fly, to see three girls headed towards Jack, pale faced with worried looks on their faces. Not only was there women headed towards Jack, but six were headed towards him.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" He started to smile, but was surprised when one of the women slapped him across the face. Another one said; "What's your problem!" Another palm connected with the side of his face, and he heard yet another say something about how disturbed she was. Still, another whispered in his ear that she didn't mind, and would meet him later.

"What in the hell…" Sawyer frowned, rubbing his cheek. He looked over at Jack, where the doctor was surrounded by a group of worried-looking girls, who he was seemingly hitting on one by one. He turned back to the angry women, and smiled. He was gonna get out of this just like he had gotten out of everything else. He turned on the charm. "Ladies, please, one at a time."

Jack tipped the bottle up so he could drink the last bit. Hiccupping, he threw the bottle a few feet behind him, hearing it crash into a tree.

"I ashk him, I asks him this." He pointed a finger at no one in particular, waving around drunkenly. "'When was your last outbreak?' He dinnit answer, so Is thinks that meansh he's havin' one" He was interrupted by himself as he burped. "I thinks he's havin' an outbreak now."

Sawyer's eyes grew wide when he overheard the doctor speaking, suddenly realizing why all these women were so angry at him. They were all fuming, he could practically feel the heat radiating of them, but he would have to deal with them later. Pushing through the crowd, he stormed down the beach to Jack.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you son of a bitch?" He shouted at the drunken man. If word got out, he knew he wouldn't be getting any more action for quite some time; at least until they got off the island… whenever that may be.

Jack turned around as if he only just noticed Sawyer, and held up two fingers. "Hold on for a minute, m'kay?" He turned towards Sawyer and grinned. "Is theray problem, Shawyer?" He elbowed Michael. "See, I told you I knew shumthin' bouts him. Shee how pisshed he is?"

"You're damn right I'm pissed, Jackass!" He yelled at the doctor, then, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than Jack already had, he lowered his voice. "You mind tellin' me what you think you're doin' here? Ain't you breakin' some sacred doctor-patient confidentiality law? I hear them doc's are pretty tight when it comes to patient privacy."

Jack smiled, looking pleased with himself. "There isn't a law here, is there Sawyer? I'm not breaking nuffin'. 'Sides, it inn't like we're gonna get off dis island, no ways."

"You're still a doctor, whether we're on a goddamned island or back in civilization." Sawyer argued, holding up his hands to stop Jack falling on him. "And that means you can't go tellin' everyone 'bout your patients." He tried to ignore the accusing glares of the women at surrounding campfires. Hell, had he really slept with that many of them?

Jack got up, and brushed the sand off his butt, unknowingly throwing it in Michael's direction (His face if you prefer to be exact). Unsteady on his feet, he walked in a zigzag line towards Kate, who was not very far away, but far enough so that she couldn't hear what was going on.

"I bet Kate would love to hear 'bout yer little story, right?" He continued towards the woman.

Sawyer grabbed Jack's arm. "You better leave her out of this if you know what's good for you. You already have most of the female population of this damn island pissed off at me!" He almost growled at Jack.

Jack snatched his arm away. Unfortunately for him (or, maybe not if you thought about it), he was still walking, and when he jerked his arm away from Sawyer it had sent him tumbling towards Kate, who cushioned his fall as he fell right into her. The final result was Kate on her back with Jack on top of her, his face lodged in between her breasts.

"Jack!" She pushed him off her, and smelled the alcohol on him. "What the hell is your problem!"

"You got nicshe breasts." Jack slurred, and didn't make any attempt to get up.

Sawyer followed Jack over, intent on keeping the other man from telling Kate about his potential 'problem'. When he heard what Jack said he almost yelled "Damn right she does!" But decided to keep that to himself.

Kate was clearly unimpressed with the doctor's sleazy behavior, and roughly pushed him off her, sending him tumbling to the ground in a fit of giggles.

"Have you been drinking?" She asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips.

"Naw…" Jack replied, trying to pull himself up by using her to hold on to, but promptly fell back into the sand. "Well, maybe jusht a teensy bit." He began to giggle again. "I'm shkunkerer than a drunk!"

"'Skunkerer than a drunk?'" Sawyer scoffed. "Well, if that ain't the words of a genius..."

Kate watched Jack as he leaned against a tree, and started to sing "You All Everybody" in a high-pitched, almost piercing voice.

"How much did he drink?" She asked, eying Sawyer. "Did you give it to him?"

"Don't look at me! Just 'cause I have a stash of some liquor doesn't mean I gave him a whole freakin' bottle of Vodka!" He put up his defense almost without thinking about it. "'Sides, I'd never waste a bottle of the good stuff on him. Not for free anyway."

While the two were talking, Charlie had come over to see what all the noise was about. Passing the tree that Jack was leaning against, he heard his signature song, and stopped. Something was wrong…

"You all everybody…" Jack sang, his voice becoming more and more screechy as he went on, screwing up his face as he tried to hit the notes. "You all everybody!" He grinned, looking proud of himself. "Ow!"

With this last shrieked attempt at singing, it was too much for Charlie, and he clamped a hand over Jack's mouth, who looked at him with big, confused eyes.

"Dude, no." Charlie said to Jack, with the air of someone trying to educate a child. "Just… just, no."

Jack of course paid no attention to him, and started to moon-walk across the sand. This is basically impossible as you need to have a smooth surface to do it anywhere near correct. And, Jack of course was "skunkerer than drunk", so he unfortunately found out the hard way that the odds were against him. As he walked backwards, he tripped over a stick, and tumbled to the ground, once again.

"Whoo, Jack!" Michael lurched over, giggling, and plopped himself down in the sand beside Jack. "Ha! You fell down!" Then, as if remembering what he had come over for, he pointed to the sky, looking up in wonder. "You gotta see this! Flying pink turtles!"

"Pff!" Jack scoffed, following Michael's gaze. "There are no such things as flying pink turtles, Mikey. You gotta be scientifical… like me." He slurred, and surveyed the completely clear sky for a few seconds, then nodded, as if having reached his conclusion. "Those are unicorns."


Jack blinked his eyes, wondering where he was. He wasn't at the caves like usual, but he was in a tent at the beach. He had a splitting headache, and as he sat up, he covered the front of his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes a little.

"Guess that's what you get for drinking so much." Kate's voice broke his thoughts.

"What?" Jack asked her groggily. Drinking so much? What was she talking about?

"I liked your performance by the way. Even if Charlie didn't like it." She laughed. Jack just raised an eyebrow. "Come on! Singing like James Brown, dancing like Michael Jackson. Surely you would remember singing You All Everybody! Well, before you started lecturing Michael on the difference between flying turtles and unicorns."

This was one of those 'Oh, shit' moments that Jack just hated. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened last night, but there was a vague memory of moon-walking and off-key singing. The look of confusion on his face was replaced with one of horror as the memory became clearer. And according to what Kate had said, that wasn't the only way he had made a total idiot out of himself that night.

"Aw, no…" He moaned as he moved backwards so the top of the tent shielded his eyes against the sun.

"You know, if I were you I'd hide from Sawyer for a few days. Maybe a little longer than that..." She tried to hide a smile, but failed.

It came back to him in bits and pieces. Michael talking about hiccups, women slapping Sawyer, himself lodged between Kate's breasts. "Oh, no. That was a dream." His face was bright red when he remembered his comment. "Please tell me that was a dream."

Kate shook her head. "Sorry, the glass is still out there from when you threw it at a tree. You should have seen Walt's face last night when he woke up to see his dad singing N'sync songs as well as the Driveshaft ones with you."

"You've got to be kidding me. Driveshaft? N'sync? That's insane!" Jack argued "You're making this up, aren't you? There's no way I would've done that! I don't even know any N'sync songs!"

"I've got a dozen teenage girls who beg to differ." She said, almost smiling at the memory of the cringe-worthy night. "I think they quite enjoyed your rendition of 'No Strings Attached', despite the fact that you slurred most of the words, and fell over a couple of times."

Jack squeezed his eyes tight shut, as if when he opened them, none of this would have happened. He felt like banging his head against a brick wall.

"Is there anything else worth saying?" He asked in a voice that you might think sounded afraid.

Kate smirked. "Now that you mention it…" She trailed off, seemingly reluctant to tell the doctor. "Before you passed out last night, there was one little incident. It involved… Well, you and Michael had decided to play a game of Truth or Dare. You… um…" At this point Kate started to whisper.

"You ended up streaking across the camp, yelling 'The British are coming, the British are coming!' at the top of your lungs."

Jack stared at her blankly. "Please, please God tell me that didn't happen!" He looked up at her with begging, pleading eyes.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't the streaker himself." Sawyer chimed, appearing at the opening of the tent. He might have been pissed at Jack last night - Hell, he still was - but watching the look on everyone's face as he ran through the camp naked was better than any payback he could have come up with himself. And knowing how much the doctor would regret it once he sobered up was even better still.

But it was the look on Jack's face when he realized it was all true that was the best of all.


Walt threw the ball to Vincent, humming 'Bye Bye Bye'. Michael heard him, and turned his head.


Petting his dog when the ball was retrieved, Walt turned to his father. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Do me a favor, and don't ever hum or sing that again."