By Sinking815
October 14th, 2006
A/N: Just wanted to try a different perspective on the Jate relationship and I know the context of this is perhaps a bit controversial, but it was a plot bunny that refused to stop asking for carrots. It contains minor adult content but nothing worse than a PG-13, so just be forewarned. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! ;)
She'd caught him staring at her again. In the middle of the day, with everyone else around, he'd been blatantly watching her as she leisurely twisted her hair up in a messy knot and knelt to zip her stressed backpack. It was when she had glanced up towards the endless horizon, one hand shielding the sun's brilliant glare, that she had seen the unabashed intensity, the vehement fervor blazing at her from across the beach. Unnerved, she had swallowed and averted her gaze, ignoring the little thrill in the pit of her stomach. Kate had never seen his eyes that dark before.
As quickly as she had seen the look of indiscretion, she tried to forget it. But it hadn't been easy trying to distract her mind from contemplating his intentions. She'd dumped her backpack full of mangoes from her perch twenty-some feet in a tree and managed to bruise at least half of the fruit. She'd cut herself cleaning out a fish and cursed loudly, upsetting a sleeping Aaron and startling Claire. Sun had to ask her three times if she was okay before Kate even realized she was being asked a question and then she had snapped when the other woman suggested she let Jack examine her injury. That was the last thing Kate had wanted to do.
Lying on her side now, listening to the sound of sleep, she watched, mesmerized as the loose flap of her tent fluttered absently with the night breeze. Well, she corrected herself, it was really their tent and for a moment, Kate was acutely aware of Sawyer's presence at her back. His breathing was heavy in the relative stillness, though not loud enough to be considered snoring, and she lay listening, seeing the rise and fall of his chest in her mind's eye. Then the tarp cracked with fury, demanding her attention again and she could only notice the way it imitated the gentle movement of the palms, their dark silhouettes just visible from the pale moonlight. Deciding sleep wasn't about to find her anytime soon, Kate blew out a frustrated sigh and eased herself out from underneath the weight of his arm.
Sawyer, she thought as she rose, stretching the tightness from her cramped legs. What would he say if he knew she was fighting insomnia because of an unguarded glance from his archrival? It was true really, that even after their time with the Others, even after she had somehow found herself in this relationship with Sawyer, the two men still seemed to be at odds. She had once thought that her choice would make that unbearable tension disappear; it seemed her decision had only exacerbated the problem. It wasn't as vocally or physically displayed as before, but it was still there, in the way that when Jack walked by, Sawyer would casually throw his arm across her shoulders and she'd pretend not to see Jack's wounded look.
Jack wasn't the only affected either. When before they had endlessly teased her over her feelings, Sun and Claire seemed to make a point of not talking about her new love life. It seemed like every conversation was about Claire's acceptance of her new role as mom or Sun's impending motherhood. In any other circumstance, Kate would have thanked her lucky stars that finally she had met two people who wanted to talk about themselves and leave her own thoughts and history to herself. But now she found herself wishing to be the one blushing at their overt suggestions and silliness. Even Charlie addressed her with a more serious and distant tone and Hurley had reverted back to not being able to look her in the eye.
Surpressing another sigh, Kate pushed back the flapping tarp and stepped out into the cool night. She let herself wander aimlessly, no real destination in mind, just knew that she needed to distance herself from sleep and the tent behind her. This wasn't the first time she had seen the camp in the middle of the night and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
As she walked, she reveled in the feel of the breeze racing over her bare skin with a restless energy and shivered at its shocking coolness. For a brief second, Kate almost turned around to search her, their tent, for a long-sleeve shirt to ward off the chilly night air, but decided against it. She'd much rather appreciate this moment to herself. Moments of comfortable isolation were few and far between in the waking hours.
Her feet sank into the soft deep sand, her shadow stopping just ahead of her when she reached the water trough. It was only about half full and she leaned over, staring intently at her rippling reflection. Her weight resting heavily on her elbows, Kate cupped her hands under the water and feeling a bit rebellious, splashed her face several times. She wanted nothing more for it than to just wash off all her stress and anxiety, wanted it to wash away the look that was burned into her mind, that was glued to the backs of her eyelids.
"You know, you really shouldn't wash your face with that water."
Disconcerted and a little spooked, Kate stumbled a few steps back, blinking water furiously off her eyelashes, until a pair of hands found her shoulders, steadying her before she tripped and fell. She froze when her eyes found the exact look that had been haunting her all day.
"Sorry," he said, a hint of amusement smiling down at her. "I wasn't trying to scare you."
"Well you did, Jack," she said, more angry at herself than him. She pulled herself out of his hold a little more viciously than she meant to and retreated. There was safety when there was distance.
Jack studied her, his head tilted slightly to the left, his eyes searching hers for anything she would give him. She only crossed her arms high over her chest and averted her gaze towards the ocean, allowing herself to look back when he had moved to pick up the two bottles he had dropped and leaned over the trough to fill them. When she knew she wouldn't be facing that stare.
"So what are you doing up this late?" he asked, turning to look at her over his shoulder. She glanced down suddenly, embarrassed to have been caught staring.
"I could ask you the same question," she quipped. She smiled when he chuckled at her evasiveness and then instantly chastised herself for taking pleasure in his laugh. What was she doing flirting with him?
"I needed a drink," he replied, matter-of-factly, turning to eye her again. He paused, waiting for her answer and then teased, "Fine then. Don't tell me."
"I…" she started and then bit her lip, unsure as to what she was really admitting by saying anything. But she had started, and now he was watching her expectantly, wanting an answer. "I couldn't sleep."
Deftly twisting the caps back on, Jack nodded and held out a full bottle to her. She looked skeptically between him and the bottle, as if suspecting some sort of practical joke before taking it with a soft thanks.
"Everything all right?"
Kate saw him try to hide his glance toward her tent, and knew he was wondering the exact same thing she was wondering about him. Why was she up without Sawyer? Why was he up without Juliet?
"Uh huh," she said non-commitally, as if walking the beach at this hour of night was perfectly normal. She swallowed some water and then handed it back to him.
"No, you keep it," he said, pushing it gently back to her.
His fingers brushed lightly against her skin and the shiver shook her before she could stop its betraying tell. They both glanced up at each other, trying to read what that moment meant, and Kate felt her heart jump when she saw the intensity return to his eyes. She was drowning before she could think to look away.
But his unwavering gaze held her firmly in place, as if they were both reliving that memory so many months ago when he had held her, anchored her in a rare moment of desperation. He wasn't touching her now, though he may as well have been.
Feeling the warning rise and clutch fiercely in her chest, Kate froze and knew she should walk away, now, before the infidelity she saw in his hazel eyes escalated to something neither of them could take back. Knew she should turn around and concentrate on nothing but putting one foot in front of the other. Should listen to her mind screaming at her insanity and should know better than to lick her lips in the subconcious way that she did, encouraging what shouldn't even be considered.
She saw the surprise scrunch his forehead when her feet took a step towards him, slowly, deliberately, her bare toes flirting with the tips of his socks. Her own heart pounded wildly, its chaotic dance reflected in the war of fear and desire battling in his scrutiny, as she took another step and another until she could clearly see the hazel flecks highlighted by the silver moonlight. She watched him swallow and shift his weight, precariously balanced somewhere between uneasiness and want. The thrill in her tummy jumped as she lazily drew her gaze to meet his dark eyes, darting quickly back and forth, unsure.
Then the familiar terror that came whenever she was too close, getting herself in too deep, tore her away and Kate quickly ducked her head. The heat rushed from her cheeks, the night breeze suddenly welcoming and soothingly cool against her flushed skin. She took a steadying breath and a definitive step back.
"I should go," Kate said softly, avoiding his eyes. It sounded breathless and painfully intimate to her own ears and she cringed, imagining the confusion he must be regarding her with. She turned but the hand she knew was coming, found her own, the whisper of her name flooring her more effectively than any physical restraint.
"Kate."
Not Freckles. Not Shortcake. But Kate. She closed her eyes, pleading with her mind to stop replaying it over and over in her head, pleading with him to let her go before things got out of hand. But he had said it and she could clearly hear the first traces of huskiness and all that that implied finally edging out from under his tautly stretched self-control. Just Kate, and its effect didn't elicit an amused smile from her the same way Sweetcheeks didn't trigger that achingly slow burn deep inside of her.
She let him turn her towards him, her eyes firmly shut as she struggled with her own control. A gentle thumb pressed lightly across the soft skin under her eye, the sudden contact startling her. The second green found brown, Kate knew they were going to cross the line, that there was no going back. There were only so many times she could keep lying to herself when the truth was right here, begging her to accept it.
His eyes glancing from her eyes to her lips and back, his movement surprisingly bold, Jack leaned in close and then hesistated, holding back. Kate felt the flush return instantly to her cheeks under his smoldering stare and for a second was unsure as to whether he was waiting for her approval or trying to silence his moral-conscious mind. She felt her heart clench with panic at the thought of him turning and walking away, now, when all she wanted was what she had run from before. So she dared him, with a slight narrowing of her eyes, and was rewarded when he pulled her flush against him, his lips meeting her own in a head-spinning crush.
Her hands were on his face, pressing against the tickle of his five o'clock shadow and close cropped hair, bracing herself as he deepened the kiss, slowing the world around her to the point of non-existence. It was just her and him and the slow and shudderingly-intense brush of his skin against hers. She felt the thrill of terror and passion winding themselves tighter and tighter in the pit of her stomach, a sudden rush of heat working from her toes to her fingertips, and the soft whimper she distantly heard startled her when she realized it was her own. Jack pulled back at the sound, his forehead pressed close to hers, his own hot breath mingling with hers and rising scandalously into the innocent night.
"I told you I'd screw you up someday," Kate said softly, her long lashes offering a curtain of modesty despite their betraying proximity.
"I'm still not sorry," he whispered, his eyes crinkling as she collapsed into a smile that stretched her cheeks and swollen lips.
Jack studied her for a moment, content to just hold her and suspend them both in the darkness of the night, but frowned when she glanced away from him. He followed her eyes curiously, feeling a stab of jealous arrogance flare somewhere deep inside him. He had to ask.
"What's wrong?"
"I was just thinking," Kate said, biting her lip and sighing. She leaned into him, gathering her thoughts, relying on the stability he always seemed to offer. "We can't do this…"
"Kate," he started to cut her off.
"Not here anyway." She glanced up at him, her eyes dancing with a conspiratorial grin. Then she leaned close, whispering against his ear, "It's too dangerous. We could get caught."
Jack cocked his head to the side in pleasant surprise and then felt the slightest twinge of shame at the thought of what she implied and for a second, Kate thought he was going to agree, was going to walk away with a chaste good-night. Instead he asked, that same conspiracy creeping seductively into his own voice, "Are you saying…?"
Eyeing him with a coy smile, Kate nodded and slipped her hand into his, pulling him towards the surf, with a glance to a place they both remembered as secluded and private. Her smile widened when she saw he had caught on and noticed his stare was back. This time she didn't balk.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I am."
