Author's Note: My third Lost oneshot; very light and upbeat, hopefully funny. Enjoy, my friends! And if you find it in your heart to do so, a comment at the end would make my veddy, veddy, veddy happy!

Disclaimer: Ssh! I like to pretend I own the characters. Don't burst my bubble, you might make me cry or something.

"Skinny Dipping"

The starry, dark night on the beach was so calm and so beautiful that it filled Kate with a wonder she could not describe; the salty ocean breeze blew from far out at sea, coming in to tickle her face and play with her hair. This nighttime island was such a different island than the one she and the others knew; it was not the mysterious and fantastic prison that it was during the light of day. It was completely transformed by darkness and by stars, transformed from a terrible jail to something that seemed to have been born of a vacation brochure, so mystical and breath-taking…. Kate would even say it was magical.

Yes, that was the word; that was exactly what it was. Magical. Kate closed her eyes and savoured the feeling, letting it wash over her like the waves did her toes as she stood at the water's edge. She heard the gentle lapping of the waves and smelled the salt in the air, and she imagined that she was not stranded on an island out in the middle of nowhere, but rather she was on the vacation of a lifetime, somewhere in the Caribbean: Jamaica, perhaps. And she felt the wind blow through the trees, softly caressing everything it touched. Anything was possible tonight.

After another moment of just standing and absorbing all that was around her, Kate opened her eyes again with a sudden urge to take a nighttime swim. Just feeling the waves wash over her toes was not enough. And besides, the whole idea of letting the salt water scrub all the dirt, all the grime, and all the sweat off of her body was too tempting an idea to pass up. It was completely dark; she was off down the beach a bit away from everybody; and they were all asleep at this time of night, anyway. It was the perfect time for a bit of midnight swimming.

With one last look around her to make sure she was truly alone, Kate removed her shirt in one quick movement, kicking off her pants and shimmying out of the rest of her clothes in no time. When she'd stripped down to nothing, she left her clothes in a pile just out of the reach of the lolling waves, and made a mad dash for the cover of the sea. When she had waded out to shoulder-deep water, Kate took a deep breath and dove under; she stayed down, floating with the current, for as long as her lungs would allow, and came up accompanied by a large exhale of air, running her hands through her water-darkened hair to keep it off her face.

The salt stung at her eyes a little, but she blinked it away, doing small breast-strokes and back-strokes and any other swimming strokes that came to her mind; in a minute her eyes were closed again and she wasn't swimming at all, just floating without thought, without effort; lazily enjoying these few moments of peace and quiet; a chance to forget all the trauma caused by the island and all the unanswered questions. The moonlight reflected on the water danced on the waves beside her, and Kate was certain she was living the perfect moment.

And then he had to show up and ruin it all. Bastard.

The first small scuffle of human footsteps startled Kate out of her dreamy reverie; she jumped a bit in the water and her eyes flew open, straining to make out more than shadows on the shore. She sunk down lower in the water, covering up, hiding, until the water lapped at her chin. And then she was still and she was silent, watching the shore with straining eyes, waiting for whoever was behind the trees to step out into the moonlight. The question, who's there? was forming on her tongue, slipping past her lips, when suddenly she saw the figure a few yards farther down than she…and the words died in her mouth.

What was Sawyer doing here? Kate couldn't really say why this surprised her, only that it did. Nervousness knotted her stomach painfully, and she tried to sink down even lower in the dark water, more grateful for the cover of night than she had ever been before. If Sawyer noticed her, completely nude in the water, she could only imagine what he would say, could all too easily picture that arrogant smirk on his lips. The embarrassment would be more than she could handle.

It became obvious after a moment that Kate needn't have worried about being noticed. Sawyer seemed completely absorbed in whatever his own intentions were that night, and didn't even suspect that he was being watched by a naked woman in the water. As Kate looked on, curious despite herself, Sawyer slipped his shirt off over his head; shirtless, he was much more noticeable against the black of the night. When he reached for the buckle of his pants, Kate suddenly understood and inhaled sharply; the noise, to her utter dismay, seemed to explode in the silence of the night. She gasped again, this time because of what she'd done, and though it was quieter than the last, it didn't matter. It was far too late to be subtle.

Immediately following the sound, Sawyer had re-buckled his pants and turned, intense and alert, watching the night suspiciously. He was reaching slowly for his shirt when his gaze landed on a dark bundle on the beach a bit from where he stood; Kate watched in horror as he studied it, wondering if there was any chance in the world that he wouldn't recognize that bundle for what it was, but all the time knowing there was no chance. "Damn it," she muttered venomously, hating herself, and it was a little louder than she meant to make it, but it didn't matter now anyway. He knew she was out here.

"Well, well, well," he said, his enjoyment unhidden as he gazed down at her clothes; "look what we have here." Sawyer spotted her at once, even in the darkness, and that smirk was already stretching across his lips. "Seems me an' you had the same idea tonight, don't it now, Freckles? Care if I join you?"

"Get the hell outta here, jackass," Kate ordered, knowing all along that he wouldn't obey. But she returned his gaze with as much dignity as she could in her situation, glaring at him—unsurprisingly, however, he didn't seem fazed by this at all.

"There's no need for name callin', sweetheart," said Sawyer, acting as if she had hurt his feelings. "I was just offering you some company, seeing as how you're out here by yourself. Personally, I can think of a lot of things two people could do in our situation that wouldn't be possible alone." He grinned.

"Oh, please," Kate said sarcastically, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. Why was her heart beating so quickly? She tried to shake it off as embarrassment, but she knew that wasn't true. Fortunately for her, Sawyer's next move got her mind off the butterflies in her stomach.

Sawyer had picked up one item from her pile of clothes, and this he twirled around his finger. The more Kate glared, the bigger his grin seemed to get. He looked from her plain, blue bra and then back to her one last time.

"Funny," he said, "you struck me as more the black lace type."

A noise strongly resembling a growl came from the back of Kate's throat. She did not dare move, but instead wondered what in the world she could do. If anyone but Sawyer had shown up tonight, they would have left again immediately, or at least turned around. But this wasn't just anyone standing in front of her; it was Sawyer, who wouldn't even think of leaving until she'd suffered the most humiliation as possible.

"Just give me my clothes, Sawyer," was all she could think to say, and maybe it was the tired note in her voice that kept him from just smirking and saying no. What he actually did was, in fact, much, much worse.

"As you wish," he said with a gallant, mocking bow, and he scooped up the rest of her clothes into his arms with her bra, and it one fluid motion had tossed them into the water at her. Once again, Kate found herself gasping, unable to believe he'd just done that. Meeting her gaze, Sawyer raised his eyebrows, and she could all too easily understand what that meant—whatcha gonna do about it, Freckles?

Kate scoffed in disgust and looked away, and instead attended to collecting her clothes. Her shirt had already drifted a good distance away, and her pants were nowhere to be seen; most likely, the denim had filled with water and sunk beyond her grasp. But Kate didn't really mind losing her clothes: she had other pants and shirts at the camp. The only thing she wanted to do was leave this water with dignity, and that just really required her underclothes—luckily, her bra was within in arm's reach, and her underwear was easily captured as well. She grabbed them with both hands, and with a significant look at Sawyer, who had said nothing this whole time, attempted to put them on.

It was maddeningly difficult trying to get dressed in the water, all the while not baring anything to the man standing a few feet away; her underwear was easiest, as long as she kept a grip on it and didn't let them float away. Her bra, however, was a different story. It was hard enough to try and snap it on behind your back on land, and just flat out impossible to do in water, she soon realized.

"Need a little help with that, darlin'?" Sawyer asked leisurely, with a casual expression that would have fit perfectly with his arms folded and his back against a tree. He raised his eyebrows at her hostile look. "Hey," he said, holding up two hands like he was warding off a dangerous creature; but all the time she knew he was just mocking her. "I'm just here to help, sweetheart." Flashing a cocky grin.

Kate was tempted to spit a mouthful of seawater in his direction, but the immaturity level of an action like that (and the fact that the salty seawater would taste absolutely terrible) kept her from doing so. Instead she just rolled her eyes and sighed, and with the exhale of air she surrendered to her fate. She was freezing here in the water, not to mention probably getting very prune-like and wrinkly. Nothing sounded better than the idea of getting dressed into something dry.

Closing her eyes against the embarrassment, trying to remind herself it was just like wearing a bathing suit, that he would see nothing, she came out of the water, holding her bra closed around her with one hand behind her back. That cocky grin of his just grew larger. He was enjoying this much more than he really should have, Kate decided. Fixing him with one last glare, she turned her back to him and held up her hair with her free hand.

"Try anything but snapping this bra, Sawyer, and I'll make you regret it," she told him. He chuckled slightly and she could hear his amusement. But he just held the bra closed as she released her grip and let her hand drop to her side. Standing there like she was, Kate felt vulnerable, exposed, violated…and yet Sawyer's fingers grazing against her back felt warm and enjoyable. She shivered at his touch, but it was not from displeasure.

"Watch out, Freckles," Sawyer said, sneering, "or else I could get to thinkin' you're starting to warm up to me. And don't get used to…this, either." He tugged at her bra. "You caught me in a generous mood. Next time, I won't be so kind." He finished fastening her bra together, and let his hands drop down to his side. Kate was surprised at finding the absence of his hands disappointed her. She wasn't allowed to like this man, he was a complete bastard, cynical, annoying, frustrating…

…charming?

Kate could feel her face flaming, as if Sawyer would guess at her thoughts just by looking at her; and not for the first time that night she thanked the darkness for hiding the blush from him. She turned back around quickly, muttered a humiliated, "thanks," and made to go back to camp; but before she could pass him, Sawyer caught her wrist and held her in place. She looked up at him, chest pounding madly.

He still was smirking. "This was fun, Freckles," he said; then, cheekily: "same time tomorrow night, then?"

Kate's heart ceased its pounding. The blush melted away. The man standing before her wasn't some Southern gentleman; he was an infuriating ass. The familiarity of his comment came almost as a relief. "Go to Hell," she told him, to stay true to her part in their conversations. She jerked her arm free, and though she could feel his eyes following her, watching her with a smirk, she kept walking in the direction of camp without looking back.