The Art of Getting Even

By Dinuriel

Disclaimer: Okay, let's vote on this. How many of you actually think there is the slightest possibility that I own Lost?

Summary: Post-island. So maybe no normal person would ever buy an old acquaintance out of jail just to get revenge on some conman… but since when has Sawyer been a normal person?

A/N: Just keep reading, just keep reading… Sorry if this is a bit short, I'm used to original fiction.

Chapter One: Old Friends

"Miss Austen?"

Kate looked up as the police officer opened the door to her cell.

"Congratulations. You've just been bought out of prison."

"What?" she demanded, "Can you even do that?"

He shrugged. "If you have enough money."

"I don't know anyone who can afford that though," insisted Kate, "Who paid?"

"He's on the phone right now if you want to talk to him."

The cop grabbed her buy the arm and walked her over to the desk. After breaking his grasp, she picked up the phone and sighed.

"Hello?"

There was no response.

"Hello?"

"Howdy, Freckles!"

She sank into a nearby chair. "Oh no, not you…"

"What? You ain't happy to hear from me?"

"I don't have enough energy for you right now, okay?" she told him, "Well, what do you want, Sawyer?"

"'What do you want'?" he repeated, "Jesus, Freckles, I just bought you outta the slammer! How about, 'Thank you, Sawyer'? Or 'That was awfully kind of you'? Or even 'I wanna have your baby', that's always good to hear."

Frowning, Kate shook her head. "You always were a real people person."

"What can I say, Sugarpop? It's a gift."

She rolled her eyes. "So, what's going on?"

There was a pause. Then-

"I need your help."

"Oh really?" asked Kate, "With what?"

"Baby, there's so much that you just can't say when you're talkin' to someone at the station. It's just so damn convenient they stuck you in the Tennessee branch of the federal prison, as I'm just in nearby Knoxville. I'll tell you what; I'll send my driver to pick you up in my limo, and then you can swing by my mansion, okay?"

Kate raised an eyebrow. "You have a limo? And a mansion?"

"Long story, Freckles. You'll hear it tonight, I promise you that."

"Why are you asking me?" she inquired, ignoring him.

She could almost see him smirking on the other end of the line, looking out of place in the huge mansion, unshaven, casually dressed, dirty-blond hair in need of a trim. "'Cause you're the only person in the world I ever want to talk to."

Kate placed her free hand on her forehead. "I take that to mean that I'm the only person who would ever talk to you."

"Woah there, Baby Doll!" he exclaimed, "Now I've met some disagreeable chicks in my day, but that was just plain mean. The slammer must've been rough on you!"

"No, they serve you breakfast in bed and every cell has an en suite spa."

"Well then, you'll adjust quickly to life at Chateau Ford- what a cryin' shame you'll be headin' off to Australia so soon."

"WHAT!"

"Well, let's face it, Freckles- you do owe me a little somthin'. 'Sides, what's a favor between old friends?"

-

Even though he'd received quite an earful from Kate, Sawyer couldn't help but smile as he hung up the phone. It'd been a while since he and old Freckles had had a good talk- it was long overdue.

"Well, you heard me, Parker," he told his chauffer, who had been sitting in a nearby chair reading the paper, "You gotta swing by the old slammer and pick up the pretty little lady."

"You do seriously want me to go to the jail, Mr. Ford?" Parker replied, "I had thought that you were only making a joke."

Sawyer smiled. "Well, you thought wrong. Now go get her- Kate Austen."

-

After a much-needed shower, haircut, and change of clothes, Kate found herself in the backseat of a long black stretch limo that belonged, strangely enough, to a womanizing redneck con artist who had probably never finished high school.

"You don't have a gun, do you, Miss Austen?" asked the driver, somewhat worried.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Even if I did, your boss knows how to take care of himself."

He nodded. "Yes, Mr. Ford is a strong, intelligent man."

She wasn't exactly sure if she agreed with his statement or not, but she smiled and nodded politely like any recently-released murderer on route to the home of an apparently wealthy acquaintance, whom she had originally had pegged as one of those people who worked on-and-off jobs at fast-food restaurants when they weren't pulling heartless and unprovoked scams for inordinate amounts of money, most of which was spent on alcohol, cigarettes, and dirty magazines.

Finally, they pulled up in front of the iron gate of what was easily the largest house that Kate had ever seen. Even some of the celebrity-owned mansions shown on Entertainment Tonight sometimes weren't as big or beautiful as this one.

"I have brought Miss Austen," the chauffer told the guard in the small station by the gate.

He nodded. "Miss Austen, would you please roll down your window? Mr. Ford is on the house phone."

Biting her lip, Kate pressed the button beside her arm, let the window slowly retract into the car door, and took the phone from the guard.

"Freckles," Sawyer greeted from the other end of the line.

She rolled her eyes and smiled,almost like amother whose child had just gotten stuck in a tree after being told not to climb it would. "Sawyer."

The video camera positioned at the top of the gate moved. "You're grinnin', Freckles- happy to be here ain't ya? You just been dyin' to see me, haven't ya?"

"Yeah, I'm dying," she agreed with a sigh, "Just open the gate and let's get this over with."

The gate began to open. "That's just what I like to hear, baby!"

A/N: Sorry if they're a bit out of character at this point- I just figured Kate would be a bit irate after spending some time in prison, and Sawyer… well, he's "a complex guy" (Pilot- Part 2). Anyway, this is my first intelligent(ish) fanfic, so please review- I'll return.