Meanwhile, Michael's started the boat and starts to pull away, passing his trussed-up friends, who all watch him. Michael and Jack lock eyes for a moment, and Michael seems to have an easier time doing so now, his face a mixture of "my son, Jack" and "oh yeah, all that stuff I did." The Others move to gather the Lostaways back up again, and Jack and Kate look at each other. He gives her a slight nod, and she slowly blinks her eyes at him. This REALLY seems to piss Sawyer off. Like he's been captured, tranquilized, tied up and kicked in the stomach, but he's most annoyed about Jack nodding at Kate (because he couldn't have seen her blinking at him). And he glares REALLY HARD at them, at least until the hood's put over his head again, and the same is done to Jack and Kate.
Nighttime, at the beach. Charlie and Claire sit by the fire, Charlie rubbing his ears. She watches him a moment, before saying, "What happened out there, Charlie?" Been waiting a while to ask that, haven't we, Claire? Charlie asks if she wants to hear the part about him nearly being killed by the flaming fireball or the flying fork. "I want you to be serious," she says. "Nothing happened," Charlie says, looking momentarily perplexed. Claire doesn't believe him, and reminds him about the noise, and says the sky turned "that weird violet color." "Did it?" asks Charlie, only this time it's like he's deliberately pretending to have no idea what she's talking about. She's slightly annoyed, but still can't resist smiling at his irrepressibility. Then she gets to play Florence Nightingale with a wound on Charlie's arm, and then there is shy smiling and hair stroking, and Claire leans in and plants a quick little kiss on Charlie's lips. There there, all better now, Charlie? They smile some more and get all cutesy by the fire, and the screen fades to black, and I couldn't BELIEVE that we were ending the season with Charlie and Claire by the fire.
And then we got what I thought was a beer commercial or a Smirnoff Ice commercial or some shit at first: it's a landscape of snowy mountains, and there appears to be a bit of a blizzard going on. The camera pulls back, and it turns out we're in some sort of shelter, the kind where scientists discover unusual weather patterns or hibernating alien colonies in crappy movies, with the abundance of odd equipment all over. There's two guys, and they're playing chess. So you know, I see snow and ice, and then chess, and I immediately think "Russian." This despite that as I watch it back you can plainly hear "amigo" and "por favor." And it turns out that they're speaking Portuguese, but their accents indicate they're not Portuguese, but, more likely -- and this is just my best guess, mind you -- that they're the children of a Brazilian man and an Estonian woman who spent their formative years in Spain, and then went to London, and then university in Germany and then spent a couple of years backpacking through the Himalayas.