MIDNIGHT

Finally, everything was quiet. Only a light breeze stirred the air, and the night creatures' noises were distant and abstract. The camp was peaceful for the moment, everyone having fallen asleep some time ago. Except Kate.

She sat back against a large chunk of fuselage, staring at the jungle in front of her. They had been on the island for two days now. It had been chaotic to say the least. There were those who were convinced that rescue was imminent, and there were others who believed there was no hope. And after finding the pilot in the wreckage, and hearing the strange transmission later, she was afraid she was starting to side with the latter group.

And she still didn't know if the marshal would survive.

She'd hoped Sayid would be able to send out a signal with the transceiver, but they'd only picked up that strange transmission. A female voice making a distress call, which had apparently been playing for sixteen years.

What exactly did that mean? Were there other survivors, from another crash, on the island? Was the woman who'd made the transmission still alive? Or had that...thing killed her?

They were going to keep news of the transmission from the others. There was no need to create a panic, they'd decided. Not that she was a stranger to secrets. She was keeping plenty of secrets from her fellow castaways. She'd been keeping secrets for a long, long time.

She sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She felt grimy and sticky after hiking around the island all day, not to mention tired and hungry. But there wasn't much food, and she couldn't seem to sleep. She'd lie down and close her eyes, but couldn't get to sleep. She envied those who could.

She stood up and brushed the sand off her legs. A quick dip in the water would wash away the day's grime. There was no one awake to see her without her clothes, so it was really the perfect time.

She walked down the beach, putting a bit of distance between her and the others. About fifty yards down the beach she stopped and turned back. Nobody had moved. She was safe from prying eyes.

She pulled her shirt over her head and shivered a little as the breeze caressed her skin. She quickly stripped down to nothing, leaving her clothes in a pile on the beach as she waded into the water.

The water was tepid, the light waves soothing as they glided back and forth across her weary muscles. She dove under the water and swam out a few strokes, then came back, letting the water wash the dirt and sweat away. She surfaced again and stood in the waist-deep water, her back to the beach, staring up at the stars.

It seemed somehow obscene that the night should be this peaceful when everything else had gone so wrong. They'd crashed on a strange island with no certainty they'd ever be rescued, yet if she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was simply on vacation. She hadn't been halfway across the world, running from the law. She hadn't been chained up on that plane, next to a surly marshal, waiting to go to prison.

She'd promised him before that she would get away, but she hadn't imagined it would happen like this. She had her freedom, but what did it really mean if she was stuck on this island?

And how long would she be able to keep her secret from her fellow castaways?

She squeezed the extra water out of her hair and turned back toward the beach. Nobody had awoken to catch her little strip show, but she didn't want to press her luck. She'd better head back now.

"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes?"

She froze in the water, her arm flying up to cover her breasts. It seemed she'd been wrong. Someone had seen her.

Sawyer.

She groaned inwardly and watched as he emerged from the shadow of a nearby tree. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Walk up the beach to her clothes and let him see her naked, or stay here in the water and hope he went away? Of course, there was no guarantee he would leave. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have worried. If it was Jack standing there, he'd turn around to give her privacy. But Sawyer wasn't Jack, and he seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"Nah, Sweetheart. I don't mind at all. Thought I was gonna have to settle for those Playboys I found. Didn't think I'd catch a live show for a while."

"I'm not putting on a show, you jackass. Now turn around."

"But where's the fun in that?" He grinned that damnable bad boy grin and lit a cigarette, watching her, waiting.

They were at an impasse. He wasn't going to move, and she really didn't want him to see her naked. She could either stay here in the water and protect her modesty, or she could walk up the beach to her clothes, giving him more of an eyeful than he'd already received.

So much for her brilliant midnight swim idea.

She looked back down the beach. It was still quiet, but it might not stay that way. She had to decide what to do.

She turned back and watched, horrified, as Sawyer picked up her utilitarian beige bra and dangled it from his finger.

"I would have figured you for more of a black lace kind of girl," he said.

"Put that down," she said, glaring daggers at him. What a nightmare.

"Why don't you come and get it?"

She had no choice. She knew it, and he knew it.

She started out of the water, her free hand dropping down to cover the dark triangle between her legs. Sawyers eyes remained on her as she approached him. She bent down and grabbed the pile of clothes, clutching them to her. She stood up again and took a moment to glare at him before snatching her bra out of his hand.

He chuckled low in his throat as she backed away toward a nearby tree. She felt her face flaming and was glad the dark covered the blush. She ducked behind the tree and immediately pulled on her panties, willing Sawyer to stay where he was. If he followed her behind the tree, she would make him regret it.

When she was fully clothed again, she leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. She could feel Sawyer standing there, waiting for her, but she didn't want to face him. She was never going to live this down, and the last thing she wanted was to see that arrogant grin again.

"You have to come out some time, Sweetheart."

She knocked her head back against the tree, then cursed him as she stepped around it. Just ignore him, she told herself. Walk right by and don't even look at him.

He caught her arm just above her elbow and spun her around to face him. "No need to be embarrassed," he murmured, standing too close. He leaned his head down close to hers. "Nudity is natural."

"Shut up and let go of my arm."

Instead of letting her go, he pulled her up against him. "If you didn't want anybody to see you, you shouldn't have gone skinny dipping in the ocean, Sweetheart."

"Why do you think I waited until everyone was asleep?"

"Not quite everyone," he said, showing her that grin again.

"You are such an asshole. And stop calling me Sweetheart."

He chuckled and took a drag on his cigarette. He didn't respond to her demand. Not that she expected him to comply. He seemed to take pleasure in his sexism and arrogance.

She jerked her arm from his grip and started to walk away. She wasn't going to bother asking him not to mention this to anyone. It wouldn't do any good.

"This was fun, Sweetheart," he called out to her. "Same time tomorrow night?"

She ignored him, walking back into the camp and finding her place amongst the wreckage. She laid down and turned her back to Sawyer, doing her best to forget about him and the night's humiliating episode. If only she could believe he was going to make this easy on her.

But she already knew him better than that.