Please review! It means so much!
If you are under the impression that I own Lost, please send me fifty bucks.
What I Want
Kate watched Sawyer haul another log onto the fire, and sighs. There was something very wrong with this. He wasn't talking to her. He'd started calling her Kate. He hadn't even been interested in sex last night – she'd been flirting as best she could, even got a kiss in, but he'd pushed her away.
And when Sawyer didn't want sex, something was very, very wrong.
But he wouldn't tell her. Of course not. As if. Her lips thinned. Whether he wanted to tell her or not, she was going to find out.
He headed back into the jungle, the axe at his side. More firewood, she thought bitterly. Since when had he cut firewood before hitting on her? That's what he did every time she rejected him!
She came up behind him quietly. He had no shirt on, and it made her pulse race. It always had, but she could admit it nowadays. She knew she should say something. It made him mad if she just watched, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't know what to say.
"There's only one axe – you want a turn, Freckles, you'll have to keep waiting," he said suddenly, and she started. He turned to face her, and she swallowed. His eyes were empty of emotion – none of the usual humour, not even the dark humour he came up with sometimes.
"I prefer to watch," she replied calmly, not letting him see how much he'd rattled her by knowing she was there.
"Yeah? Why's that?" he asked. She wondered if he was laughing at her now – what could she say to that? Because you look so damn hot, with a capital H, chopping wood?
"You just look so damn hot swinging that axe around," she replied, and after a moment, he chuckled softly. Then, the smile faded off his face and he whacked another log.
"Do we really need this much wood?" she asked. He ignored her. "I think the economists are going to have something to say about this."
"How many economists do you think are within shouting range right now?" he asked.
"Just sayin'," she muttered. "I think you're going to run out of wood soon."
Sawyer snorted, reached for another log, and with a single chop, cut through it. He went for the next – and found only air. Surprised, he looked down. He'd cut through every damn log there was.
"I warned you," Kate said.
"Shut up, Kate," he said carefully. She flinched slightly. No humour in that.
"What's wrong with you, Sawyer?" she asked as gently as she could. He spun around, and she suddenly wished she'd confronted him somewhere he didn't have an axe.
"Don't call me that," he hissed, and she actually stepped back in shock.
"Okay, James."
He didn't reply, but dropped the axe and turned away from her. She watched him carefully. Something had happened, that was for sure. She swallowed, braced herself, stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He actually flinched, then turned his angry gaze upon her, eyes smouldering.
"What you doing, Kate?" he asked.
"What are you doing?" she asked. His nostrils flared, and she swallowed again. "Something changed Sawyer. I need to know. I want to help you."
"Really?" he asked bitterly. "Why would you want to help me?"
"Because..." Kate hesitated, then forced it out. "I love you."
There was absolute stillness around them. The birds seemed to realise this was a special moment, and even the trees stopped shuffling and muttering amongst themselves.
"I don't deserve you," Sawyer said, his voice cracking. She could see how hard he was fighting not to break down, and she wondered what on earth could have happened to make him change like this. He was moody and temperamental at the best of times.
"Then I guess Christmas came early," she said, wrapping an arm around him, pulling him closer. He resisted a little. "You can't fight the good things in life. You can't say that you don't deserve them, because what they say is true – life isn't fair."
Kate wondered where she was getting these words from. They weren't her. Much too wise for her. But she kept talking.
"Good things don't necessarily happen to good people. And bad things don't necessarily happen to bad people. The world is a twisted, ironic place, and no matter how much people say 'He doesn't deserve that', or 'How did someone like her get something like that?' it doesn't matter. It happens anyway. So I stopped caring about what I deserve, and started thinking about what I want."
"You don't feel guilty?" he asked, leaning closer. She could smell him, feel him.
"I deserve to feel guilty. But what does that matter?"
And now they were only a hair's breadth away from each other. It was enough – with a relieved sigh, Sawyer cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, slowly, smoothly, with a passion she didn't know if she'd ever felt before. It was intense. It came from him, through her mouth and filled her.
And then his hands started moving, so gently, shaped to perfectly follow the curves of her body.
"Not here," she whispered, and began pulling him back to the beach. He came, not just willingly, but kept one hand on her, kept smiling at her. Loving her. And she knew it would all be okay now.
She still didn't know what had happened. But he was back to normal, at least.