My Shape, Your Color, a lost fanfic

Disclaimer: LOST and all its respective characters and memorabilia belong to Jeffrey Lieber, J.J. Abrams, and Damon Lindelof. The elements unique to this fan fiction belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: Because I love the dynamics between Kate and Mars. And, whether they admit it or not, so do they, haha! Honestly, though, I thought it'd be interesting to get to the bottom of their power struggle, so…

Summary: Why persistence isn't enough. // Kate & The Marshal dynamics, One-shot // Rated T for mild language.

My Shape, Your Color
by Lenn R.

She was lonely. She was bored. She was tired and sick. Not unsatisfied, no. She had wanted her life to go this general direction, mostly. Regardless, she was a touch frustrated. Not angry, though. Not yet. If the phone ate one more quarter, she would be angry. But it didn't.

// "Hello?" //

She swallowed. She hated this part.

"I need to talk to Edward. If he's there. Please."

He wasn't lonely. He wasn't bored. He wasn't tired or sick. Unsatisfied? Yeah, probably that. Disappointed? Mostly that, actually. A touch frustrated, but not angry. Angry was when soap got in his eyes, which hadn't happened with tonight's dishes yet.

"Hello?"

He kept on scrubbing and rinsing and dropping cups and things into the drying rack, pretending he wasn't listening to his wife answer the kitchen phone. It was probably one of her whiny girl friends calling, wanting to compare stories of impossible man troubles again. Stories which were shamelessly over exaggerated, but embarrassing anyway. And she knew he hated being embarrassed.

"Edward?"

He stilled, and realized after two seconds that she wasn't talking to him. She was talking about him. But in a less gossipy, more biting tone than usual.

"Why, he get you pregnant?"

"What? I… no, I just… I need to talk to…" She paused, considered hanging up. Was it really worth it? When she did get through to him, she knew that, like always, he wouldn't listen anyway. She was lonely, though, and he was due for another—

// "Boy or girl?" //

From the half-empty sink, he could still heard the faint static of a faltering voice on the phone against Mrs. Mars's cheek. So, this wasn't a girl friend. Probably Cynthia from work who, by the way, was not his type. Or his doctor who until now hadn't thought badly of him. Or a poor, poor telemarketer who couldn't know any better. By the time he figured out he didn't really care who it was, he had already snatched the phone from his wife. His hands were still dripping and now there were little spots of wetness on her sleeve, but whatever. She was always pissed at something anyway.

"Boy or girl?" He asked smartly, smiling cheekily at his wife's familiar scowling response to his impudence. Maybe tonight would get better after all. He shouldered the phone and headed back to the sink. "I'm sorry. I guess my wife thinks that just because she sleeps around while I'm out of town, I do, too."

She closed her eyes. Maybe tonight wouldn't get so much better after all.

"It's me." It was her traditional greeting.

He blinked dumbly. "Kate."

She smiled at his unguarded shock. "…And it's a girl."

He laughed, surprised and flushed and kind of weirded out. But intrigued. "Your eyes or mine?"

Now she was caught off guard. But, when she thought about it, she felt unexpectedly… okay. "M-my shape. Your color."

He tilted his head, watched his wife stride purposefully down the hallway.

"So brown eyes."

"No, blue."

"Nice." He leaned against the counter. She was sharp, as always. He was kind of flattered she knew, actually. "I just hope she doesn't have the Mars dimple."

"The doctors called it 'cute.'" She really couldn't believe she was having this conversation. With him, especially, but with anyone this would have been insane. It was insane. "However, on the topic of the Austen nose—"

"They said it was the prettiest nose they'd ever seen in all their days of baby delivering. Wasn't that sweet of them?"

For some reason she was blushing.

He knew she was blushing, and to his private, unexpected embarrassment, that made him blush, too. And he hated being embarrassed.

"Edward, I…" She tapped the crummy glass above the phone stand.

"Okay, Kate. I get it, I know." He blew his breath out, readying himself before their longtime favorite conversation ensued. Transition: "Mitigating circumstances."

She sucked in her breath, hoping that maybe if he heard this just one more time… "Please. Please don't come after me anymore."

He had to give it to her, this woman was impressively persistent. Too bad persistence alone wouldn't cut it. Seriously, in his opinion, it was too bad.

"Please, Edward?"

"You know the answer. You know me—you know my eye color, for crying out loud! You know what I'm going to say."

"I know you don't have to say it."

"You know that's a taunt, right?" More, it was that she didn't take him or his job seriously, and that was the taunt.

"No, no. I know it's your job, but I know you don't have to follow me in particular! I know there are lots of people out there who do bad stuff for no reason at all, and you could follow one of them. You could chase them, get a runaway child molester, or, or—"

"Or a guy who broke a mailbox in half and went to see his aunt a few states away in Wisconsin. Gee, maybe I should get on that one. Sounds serious."

"Now you're taunting me." She knew he didn't take her or her circumstances seriously, and that was the problem.

"No. I take your crime very seriously. You do, too, otherwise you wouldn't have run so eagerly. And guess what, Kate, Billy the unscrupulous mailbox killer is a few degrees shy of where you're at."

"Because after I kill my mailboxes, I eat them, too." Well, if he was going to get sarcastic…

"…I knew the cravings got weird, but jeez, Kate."

She was laughing before she could think about it. "Speaking of which, you're gonna need to go to the store and buy me some mailbox ice cream."

"My gosh, I just bought some this afternoon. Are we out already?"

"Yeah." Back to business, though. She sighed. "And hey. While you're there, would you mind picking up a carton of letting me go?"

There was that persistence again. He looked up. "That costs too much. How about we settle for a carton of you know the answer?"

"Please!"

"Look." He rubbed his nose. He was going to give it to her straight. "You have to go to court, that's the law, and that's final."

"You don't have to be the one to take me." So, that's what this was all about.

"No, but I have the best chance of taking you." And that was what it really was about.

She startled. "H-how do you figure?"

He smiled. "Because you have green eyes."

Author's Note 2: If you enjoyed, please Review! It was weird, I know, but I think that sometimes weird things are just more interesting. Oh, and if you don't mind, put down your eye color in the review. I'm a green eyes monster! Um, yeah. Like I said, weird. But you know what I say about weird…