Title: Con
Setting: Post-season 1, thus containing overall spoilers for anything up to the current episode. This scene is set sometime after the raft crew and the Hatchlets (or the small group of tail section folk, if you will) have rejoined the main group.
Disclaimer: I own Sawyer, Lost, ABC, your mom, and the world. Yes, really. And I have nothing better do to then write fanfiction. Go ahead; sue me. I dare ya.
Author's notes and all that jazz: Hello boys and girls. Welcome. This is a very random scene which played out well in my mind, thus I decided to put it to paper. Or more so, hard drive.
I've never written Lost before but I have roleplayed a 'Sawyer' character on a friend's site, so this was easy enough to write. Still, I hope it seems plausible to you readers.
I had begun another Lost fic way back at the beginning of summer, but then I died. Actually, I went to college. And now that story is sitting on my desktop at home. But I might pick it up one day because writing is fun.
And I dunno. I'll shush now and let you cool people read the story. Drop me a line, eh?
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Night on the beach was never fully quiet.
In the jungle, a dull, confining silence prevailed, despite native critters that would grunt and chirp and howl or snap twigs and crumble leaves as they roamed the grounds; where even the softest gust of wind would whistle through the thick vegetation and carry with it a haunting tale that everyone on the island heard but fought vigorously not to acknowledge. For once it was said and done, the trees always grew still, silent and dark.
The beach seemed like a world of its own. With the rhythmic crashing of waves against the seamless shores, it provided a sense of consistency and order. The sky stretched on for miles, beaming down faint light from billions of stars, and on many occasions, a hovering moon. The sand rose and fell in irregular dunes, each one differing from the other, yet all coming together to form a complex while steady pattern.
Lately, bouncing rays of orange and crisp crackling of campfires had also become normal in this section of the shoreline.
Tonight, the air carried laughter too.
Kate tucked a strand of tangled brown hair behind her left ear, trying not to stare too obviously at the almost giddy couple a few yards away. Flickering her gaze down to the sand below her feet, she all too soon looked up again as the feminine giggles were joined by a deeper, rougher laugh.
"Don't tell me you're just gonna sit there and let Pocahontas take off with your John Smith."
Casting a final dark look at Ana-Lucia and Jack through the fire, Kate allowed her eyes to close. A second passed before she swallowed and glanced at Sawyer over her shoulder, silently cursing him for his ever-impeccable timing.
"What are you talking about?" She retorted, trying to play it off coolly, though she knew there was no fooling the Southerner. Not when it came down to her, at least.
"Ah, come on. Anyone with a good eyeball can see them two spillin' sexual tension you could chop up with one of our Jungle Man's huntin' knives."
Kate turned back around, focusing all her attention on the burning fire rather then the duo walking down the beach beyond it.
"And why am I supposed to care? Jack doesn't need my permission to be interested in anyone."
Sawyer chuckled as he sat down heavily beside her. "Yeah, well you had dibs on him first, didn't 'cha?"
Kate said nothing.
"So why don't ya go reclaim your man?"
"He's not my man."
Sawyer shrugged, unconvinced. "Well, sweetheart," he drawled after a moment, "guess it's all the better for me then."
Allowing herself a humorless laugh, Kate pushed herself off the ground. "Right, Sawyer. I'm going to bed. Good night."
She turned away, prepared to start walking, but a heavy grip fell on her wrist and she sighed, refusing to look at him.
"Let go of me."
The fire reflected almost villainously off Sawyer's already chilling blue eyes. He had a crooked, playful grin on his face.
"Come on, let's give Jackass and his new island queen a run for their money."
Kate blinked, shaking her head. "I'm too tired for games, Sawyer. Let go." She attempted feebly to tug her arm from his grasp, but only succeeded in almost ripping it from her shoulder socket.
"I'm not kidding, Sawyer. Let me go."
He didn't. Instead, he gave her wrist a sturdy pull and she found herself caught off-guard. Stumbling over her own feet, Kate lost her balance. Sawyer seemed to have anticipated this exact outcome, because he raised his other hand and laced it around her waist, skillfully bringing her down on his lap.
"That's better." The grin he bore grew. "Now, wait for it." His eyes drifted to the air over her shoulder.
"Wait for what?" Kate demanded, heart slightly racing from her trip. She glared at her captor, trying to decipher his plot while keeping up an angry front. No way she was going to show Sawyer that she was mildly curious in what he was planning, and even mildly willing to go along.
"Pipe down and trust me on this."
"Trust you on what?"
No answer. Kate scoffed. Apparently she was going to be kept in the dark. Well, in that case...
"Sawyer, let me up." Kate went back to demanding, though she knew it was useless. He still had an arm wrapped around her midsection and his other hand was now rested on her upper left arm. Kate wiggled around, attempting to squirm free; another useless ploy.
"Stop struggling, woman. They're looking now."
A flash of panic flooded Kate and she quickly arched her neck to confirm Sawyer's statement, but he was too quick for her. The hand which he'd planted on her arm rose to her cheek, straightening her head so she was eye-to-eye with him, before snaking its way into her hair.
"Sawyer, what the hell are you..."
"Shh. You'll give it away."
"Wha-"
Her question was abruptly cut off as Sawyer's mouth closed on hers. Kate felt the heat radiating off his large, rough hands, one at the back of her head and one on the small of her back, both pulling her deep into his body and into his kiss. Her own hands had instinctively come up to his chest; though she had initially meant to push him back, they had rested there limply the moment she'd set them down.
Ages seemed to pass, though it was in reality only a few lingering seconds. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against her own as they both panted heavily;. She mentally screamed at him for stopping and then at herself for thinking that.
Allowing herself a moment to recollect her breath, Kate twisted her head back slightly to regard the scene behind her. Now that it had happened, she had no choice but to at least bask in the moment.
She blinked in confusion at what she saw. Or more so, what she didn't see…
"Where...?" Kate let her question fade off, still trying to process what had just taken place. Slowly, the puzzle pieces came together.
"Oh, they headed off into the enchanted forest a good 5 minutes ago." Sawyer replied smoothly, a grin creeping onto his face as Kate turned back to stare at him.
"But you…"
"Said what I had to, in order to get what I wanted."
Kate seemed at a loss for words. For a moment, Sawyer thought she was going to elbow him in the face again, and the concept that both their kisses would end in this traditional manner amused him. Especially since both kisses were very worth it.
The blow didn't come and Sawyer cocked his head slightly, the sly grin still plastered in place as he waited for Kate to do something. Anything.
She surprised him by pushing herself off his lap and standing upright, dusting the sand off her pants with a sigh, before shooting him a last glaring look.
"You're a real bastard, Sawyer."
And she stormed off.
"Yeah, I get that a lot, Freckles." The Southerner replied quietly, for the sake of getting the last word. He chuckled to himself and let his gaze beset the lingering campfire, unable to peel the satisfied grin from his features.
Unseen to him, Kate was fighting a smile of her own.
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End.