Just a collection of short stories about Sawyer and Kate enjoying island life. Takes place after the events in Whatever The Case May Be. Enjoy.
Disco Lemonade"Why do you bother worryin' bout what he thinks about you?"
Kate had a hard time picking out the southern drawl from the swirling sounds that deafened her ears. The crashing of the tidal waves, someone was whispering in her ear. A gun was fired, she was sobbing. Someone screamed. Repeat. Sand scraped against the soles of her feet as she pulled her knees as close to her chest as they could go, a protective barrier from the sounds that haunted her. A tear dripped from the corner of her eye onto her pants, a casualty of war. The man perched beside her was unaware of the battle raging inside her, but he was pretty damn sure who had set off the first shot.
"You hear me, Freckles?" he reached over and grabbed her elbow, shaking her rather roughly, "listen to me when I'm talking to you."
"What the fuck do you want, Sawyer?" she growled, "I'm not in the mood."
"Why do you care what he thinks about you?" he was staring at her now. The way that he could only stare at her. It scared her sometimes, how intense his stare could be. She looked away.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about," he said, "The doc, I heard you two. I don't know why you're so eager to please him."
"That's not true,"
"It is, sassafras and you know it," he was in front of her now, hands gripping her shoulders forcing her to look at him, "Every time something bad happens to ya, you go crawling back to the good ol' Doc to be redeemed and all he does is cut you and kick you while you're down. Then you do it all over again."
She could look at him now. She knew he was wrong, she could feel her eyes flash, "You're wrong," she told him, "Jack's not like that, you're just jea—"
"Why the hell are you protecting him?" Sawyer exclaimed angrily, "Why the fuck are you protecting the man that just left you after he made you cry. What makes him so great, hey? Tell me that?"
Caught. Not even Kate could think of response to that. Maybe Sawyer had a point?
"Why do you care?" she countered, "what does it matter to you what Jack and I do?"
"What do you think?" Kate could have sworn his voice dropped a few notches, "Why the hell would I want to sit and watch while you get your pretty little ass kicked every time the doc thinks he needs to know something about you?" Kate shifted under his gaze and callused palms that still clung to her shoulders. One had strayed into her hair and was absently toying with a loose curl, "We're the same, Kate. You and me, we've got pasts so twisted it'd make someone want to hurl just to know about them. We're not like them, you're not like Captain Jack."
"You don't know that," she mumbled, suddenly unable to find her voice.
"I do know that, I've been where you are before," she could tell he was fighting the urge to move his arms around her, and she wished he'd stop and give in, "I wanted redemption, wanted to pretend none of it happened," a second hand was brushing away a tear that had ventured away from her eye shut tight, "but it did happen, and nothing you, or Jack do, can make it go away."
Kate felt herself nod, heard him sigh, "The way I see it," he continued, "we're stranded on an island. Surviving a plane crash is enough for the both of us. Whether we're living with the optimists, we both know no one's comin'. It's too long a time for us to be beating ourselves up for things that happened away from here," her eyes met his, blue and green collided, "It doesn't have to be so hard. Love doesn't have to be as hard as Jack's making it for you," he was still talking, voice scratchy, "he doesn't love you, freckles. You're just another case for him to fix. A pretty face."
The unexpected monologue was the most twisted thing that Kate needed at that point in time, and for a revelling moment, Kate knew exactly what Sawyer was telling her. And she felt like she could kiss him right then and there.
He felt the same.
In a tangle of arms and legs and sand and souls they were on each other before they could even realize it. It was passionate and soft and for the first time in forever, Kate felt relieved.
Sawyer could love her.
Jack could go fuck himself.