Title: Game On
By: mandy-jg
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hermione/Sawyer
Summary: It was completely plausible, hardly stalker material.
A/N: So it's been a really long time, and I've been wanting to do these two again for ages. So here it is! This kind of hints at more than what I wrote in previous drabbles, maybe one day I'll do it all. It has spoilers for the Season 3 finale of Lost, and hints at Hermione's "possible" part in all that occurred. Which you know, never could have happened! Let the whackiness begin! ♥

Game On

She wasn't an easy person to find, it was a big town, with several Granger's in the phone book, but there was no H's in front of them. He should have given up, what was he doing here anyway? Traveling across the Atlantic for some witch? There was a very high probability that she would have forgotten him, and even if she hadn't, and she remembered him, what exactly would they do? Bond over a cup of coffee, and talk about their lives? It wasn't likely, he wasn't scared, by any stretch of the imagination, but he did get the feeling that the second he actually saw her, he would run in the opposite direction and never look back. She was too smart, and could do things that even in his wildest dreams had never thought possible. When she turned to him, and held that stick in her hand, he had been more afraid than he'd ever been.

It had been the last directory that he had struck gold, after searching in vain through several he found something. It could be nothing, but there was a chance it was something, and something was indeed, better than nothing. So that was why he was huddled in a doorway, his inadequate jacket wrapped around him, with his eyes on a tiny little dentist surgery across the road. It opened in a few minutes, and he was waiting for them to arrive, the only way in was from the front. The streets around him were starting to fill with people on their way to work, a large bus pulled up just in front of him, and sat idly for several minutes before pulling away again.

He swore violently when he noticed the security screens up on the family practice in front of him, hoping to spot whoever they were when they arrived had been his plan. Now they would have to change, he didn't plan on standing here in the cold all day, but he didn't want her to get away possibly; and by going in there, he would be waving some giant "foreign stalker" flag that he'd really prefer to keep in his pocket for the moment at least. There was always tomorrow, he could go do something, and stand here tomorrow and wait for her. Or, he could actually use his balls and go inside. She didn't have to know that he'd come especially for her, he was just traveling, and he happened upon London, and remembered that little English girl who popped up on the island that time, and thought about calling on her. It was completely plausible, hardly stalker material.

It would work.

Running his hand over his hair, smoothing the wind blown tresses back into place, he stepped out onto the sidewalk. With one eye on the traffic, and another on the business in front of him, he began to cross the road, only to stop as soon as the door opened in front of him, and she stepped out. Ducking behind a parked car, he watched her laugh and wave at someone inside, before heading briskly down the footpath. When she was a good distance ahead of him, he crossed the road, and followed behind. He should have gone up then and there, but he hadn't, and it was too late to play the 'chance encounter' card, it had moved head first into definite stalker territory.

The crowd thinned as they headed further down, so he started slowing, keeping a decent distance between them, but not wanting to lose sight of her. She looked around slightly, before heading into a rather dingy, and decrepit building. Speeding up he looked in the grimy window, and spotted her walking through a door at the back. Counting to ten under his breath, he walked in, and realised she had come into a bar. This surprised him, it was still early for him. Maybe she worked here, he thought to himself. Trying to appear nonchalant, he walked through the dark bar like he'd done it a million times, and passed through the doorway he'd seen her. It didn't lead him anywhere other than a brick wall. There was nothing, no door, no escape, where the bloody hell had she gone?

"Witch," he cursed softly, hitting one of the wooden crates for good measure, and when it made a god awful noise he left the dead end. No doubt it was just some way to get somewhere, using her magic. He'd lost her.

For now.

The barman had his eyes on him as he re-entered, so he headed over, and sat on one of the stools, "You do breakfast?"

"Of course."

"Well then..." he began, stopping when he heard it behind him.

"Tom, did I drop my scarf in here when I came through?" Sawyer kept his eyes on the barman as she spoke, "I'd hate to have dropped it out there, I'll never find it."

"No, sorry Hermione. Not that I can tell."

Deciding to be brave, he turned on the stool, and smiled at her.

Gasping loudly, she dropped her handbag. "Oh my."

"Good morning," he smiled.

"What, uh, it is, a good morning. What," she shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I was just about to order some breakfast, it's that time of the day and all."


"Why not? Seemed the place, but fancy bumping into you."

"What a coincidence," Hermione said slowly, a slight smile on her lips. "Do you want some company? Because as luck would have it, I completely forgot to have breakfast this morning."

"Well that's just irresponsible, it is the most important meal of the day after all. Now you simple must have breakfast with me."


"I'll bring two over shortly," he said disappearing out the back.

She bent over and picked up her bag, "Let's get a table," Hermione said, walking over to the corner.

Following her closely, he sat down opposite here, thankful for the privacy, and not at all uncomfortable with the small table and the close proximity it provided. "How have you been? I see you got back alright."

"Yeah," she smiled, "one piece. I heard they found you," she added quickly. "Must be a relief to be out of there."

Shrugging, "Yes and no."

Looking at him closely, "How so?"

"Well it is nice to not be running for my life every other day, no one is trying to kill me, or capture me, just yet. It's just adjustments. The real world is a lot different to that place."

"I can imagine," she smiled. "So, what brings you to London?"

"Just traveling, got restless back home."

"And you flew?"

Laughing slightly, "Yeah, it's quick, and I got a shit load of free passes."

"I have to say, this is a remarkable coincidence you being here."

"In here?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's such a tiny pub, completely out of the way, and unless you know magic, you tend to completely pass it by. But you didn't."

"Aren't I the lucky one?"

"Lucky," Hermione said slowly. "Or maybe, it was you. I knew there was someone, I just told myself I was being paranoid."

"I was..."

"Following me?"

"Yeah," he groaned.

"Why? You couldn't come and say hello? That's a down sight friendlier, and not at all scary! I've had enough dealings with suspicious people to put me on high alert for the rest of my life, and you following me, could have sent you to the bloody hospital."

"I'm tough," he said firmly.

"I'm tougher." Their food was placed in front of them, and Hermione waved the man away. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't worry yourself," he said waving a hand dismissively, "It was stupid, I wasn't sure I'd even say hello, so I figured I just look at you, see how you were, and then piss off."

Picking up her fork, "I'm glad you didn't."

"You never know, I might just yet. You are pretty tough."

"How long are you here?"

"I leave tomorrow, going back."

"Have you been around London much?"

"Not really, it was a quick decision to come, so I didn't plan to stay long, and do I really look like the type to plan a tourist-like itinery?"

Laughing, "No. But you know who would?"


"Correct! I have the day off, so can I be your guide?"

He stirred the coffee slightly, watching her worry her lip out of the corner of his eye, "If you aren't busy, I wouldn't say no to the company."

She smiled brilliantly at him, "Excellent! I know just what to do..."

"No bloody artsy-fartsy places."

"Fine," she sighed. "Maybe, a mixture of my world, and the other side? Are you game?"

"Sweetheart, I'm up for anything you have to offer."