TITLE: Boomerang
CHARACTERS: Kate, Sawyer, Jack
RATED: PG-13 for the time being.
EPISODES: Set after the story "Drawn Together": The raft is successful.
STATUS: Chapter Six of….Unknown
BETA READER: Nicki and Ben (Two of my friends that are hooked!)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters from the show LOST. I certainly don't own Kate or Sawyer. (tear tear) But I do, however, own the rights to this story and my imagination that created it.

Quickie:
It's the chapter for explanations. Somewhat…
And I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been uber busy and I have a lot of other chapters typed up. So the more you review, the quicker the chapters go up! Because reviews means you read it. And I like to make sure everyone's read the chapter before posting a new one. Kay:-)

Chapter 6

They were back in the kitchen sitting at the table, a new coffee cup accompanying Sawyer's.

"How long ago you get off that ship?"

"A week ago. Maybe less. I'm not sure. I'm a fast traveler."

He nodded, and they were awkwardly quiet.

"How long were you on the water before you were spotted?" Kate asked, absently turning her cup around and around.

"Two weeks," he said, after taking a sip of his.

"You guys were really out there that long?"

"Yep. By the time they found us, I swear I was ready to strangle the kid. Wouldn't shut up!"

She laughed. "Well, he's a kid. They all talk a lot."

"Kids…" he muttered. "Huh. I'll be damned if I ever have one."

Quickly, she took a sip of her coffee, trying to keep her cool. Unfortunately, she drank too fast and started coughing. He patted her back gently, and her back, as a reflex, arched with chills. He pulled away, looking at her curiously. When she finally stopped coughing, her face was bright red.

"All right now?"

"Yeah," she looked at her cup.

"What was that about?"

"What do you mean?" she said, pretending not to know.

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart. 'Cause I know you ain't."

"I just drank too quickly," she told him. It was partially the truth, even though it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Hm."

He sat back, not believing her, but he didn't feel like questioning it right now. Then something hit him.

"So why ain't you locked up, Freckles?"

Her face flushed, and her eyes seemed to crystallize. Even before he asked, he knew the answer.

"You run again?" he asked in a soft, cold voice.

She took an unsteady breath and that was all he needed to know.

"And what? You came here looking for help? 'Cause you sure as hell ain't gettin' it from me. So let's hear it, Freckles."

"I didn't come here for help. I came because there's something I need to tell you," she said, her voice gradually losing strength.

"What's that? You and Jack-O getting hitched? From what I heard, you and him were pretty cozy after I left. You wanna invite me to your wedding?"

"No. I didn't say –"

"Don't tell me you're here to say you're sorry, sassafras," he interrupted.

"Sawyer, I – "

"'Cause if that's the case, I don't wanna hear it."

"I'M PREGNANT!" she blurted out, then lowering her head to the table, forcing herself not to cry.

He was quiet, trying to register what she just told him. He wanted to ask, although he was sure of the answer.

"Why would this interest me? Shouldn't you tell him?"

"It's not like that, okay?"

"Oh no?"

"I never had sex with him!" she shouted, and it echoed through the whole house. "Never," she repeated quietly, looking right at him.

And there it was. The answer he'd expected. He didn't want to believe it though. So he asked, "And how would I know you ain't lyin'?"

She almost laughed. "Are you kidding me?"

He looked at her curiously. She looked down at her cup, in disbelief of what she was about to tell him.

"I can't lie to you. You're the only one who can see through it."

"Well, golly! Now I feel special!" he said sarcastically.

She looked at him angrily, and then shook her head and got up. She walked to the doorway to the living room, and leaned against it, her arms folded.

After taking another drink of coffee, he slammed the cup down and sighed. He pushed his chair back and went over to her. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around. She wasn't crying, as he expected, but her eyes were the saddest he'd ever seen. She swallowed and looked down.

"For the record," she looked up at him. "I am sorry."

He looked at her the exact same way he looked at the letter he'd been carrying for years.

"All right," he whispered.

She looked down again, and he dropped his hands from his shoulders. After a few minutes of the two standing there like that, Sawyer disappeared around the corner of the kitchen. When he came back, he had a bottle of whiskey, already opened. She looked at him. He held the bottle out to her, and she looked at it for a minute.

"Hell! Why not celebrate?" he said, sarcastically.

She took the bottle from him, taking a large swig of it. He laughed as her face scrunched from the taste. He smirked, amused by the look on her face.

"How old is this?" she coughed.

"Could be from the colonial times. How the hell should I know?"

Wiping her mouth, she grimaced. "Then why drink it?"

"Whiskey never goes bad," he grinned.

"Oh," she coughed again. "I beg to differ."

"That's fine. You're entitled to your own opinion," he took another drink, and sat at the table again. "And anyway, you shouldn't be drinking."

"That's if I were to keep it," she said, sitting across from him, smiling at his concern.

He lowered the bottle from his lips, looking at her like she was crazy.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't keep it. It won't work. You know that."

"Why not?"

"Please, Sawyer. You said yourself you hate kids."

"Well…I was just – "

"Not to mention I'm a criminal. And I'm on the run again."

"See now that's a story I'd like to hear. How the hell'd you get all the way here to Tennessee?"

"It's a long story."

"And we got all the time in the world, Freckles!"

She sighed. "Well first off, I was supposed to be free for a few months."

"How's that work?"

"Too many cases. They were backed up, and my case was on the waiting list."

"Then how the hell are you on the run again?"

"You're gonna laugh at me," she smiled, blushing.

"No, I won't," he promised, but wearing a grin, thinking of how adorable she looked when she blushed.

"Well…once we got off the cruise, I set out to come here. To tell you about…" she looked down at her stomach, unable to say it. "Yeah…Anyway, I went from Sydney to LA and then started through the country to get here. But in Texas, some guys were trying to hit on me."

He laughed.

"See? I told you you'd laugh!"

"What'd you do? Kick their asses and run?"

"Actually, yeah," she blushed more. "Well…kind of."

"You beat 'em up for hittin' on you?" he laughed. "I better just back off right now, then!"

"Shut up," she shook her head, smiling. "I didn't beat them up for hitting on me. I beat them up because one of them realized who I was and grabbed my arm, trying to drag me to the police station."

He had stopped laughing and looked at her seriously now.

"He had me about a mile away from it. I tried beating my way out of his grip, but he only gripped tighter. By then, I was pissed and I kicked all their asses. Pretty badly," she looked down. "I think one of them had a head injury."

"Christ," he muttered.

"I didn't mean for it to happen. But I wasn't taking my chances with my case being resolved quicker."

He looked away.

"It's only a matter of time before they go to the police and report it," she said, quietly. "By then, my case will probably be the highest priority. And they'll be searching all over for me again."

After a long silence, Sawyer took another swig of Whiskey and set the bottle on the table, toward her. She stared at it, but never made a move to take it.

"So what happened with Jack? I'd of thought you'd be with him if you were free."

She shook her head, looking even sadder. "He never wanted me."

"Could've fooled me! The way he was on the island?"

"Not after you forced me to tell him I didn't love him. He gave up on it after that. Even when we did get close after you left. It wasn't real. It wasn't like –" she stopped herself from going any further.

Us, he guessed, silently. She looked at him, then back down at the table, tears suddenly streaming down her face.

"I was so sure you weren't going to leave," she told him. "And then when you did…"

"I did what I had to do," he said, coldly.

"But you just left me there. You didn't even come back on the cruise."

"Why should I have? You wanted Jack!"

"I never wanted Jack! Jack and I were friends! Nothing more! How many times do I need to tell you?"

"Friends that kissed? More than once?" he snapped.

"First off, he kissed me!"

"And you kissed back, princess! If that ain't cheatin' then I guess I'm livin' in another world!"

"It was a mistake! People do make them, in case you haven't noticed! I'm sure even you made a few mistakes!"

He looked away angrily, remembering the night he killed Frank Duckett.

"The point is, I didn't feel anything when I was with him. It wasn't ever the same as…" she swallowed and looked up at him. "As you…"

He got up suddenly, the chair almost falling to the ground. She turned around and watched him walk out of the kitchen, into the living room, then heading up the stairs. She watched the empty stairs for a few minutes, but he never returned. Finally, about twenty minutes later, he came back, fidgeting with a package of cigarettes, and a lighter.

"Had to find my smokes," he told her, walking back into the kitchen.

"It took that long?"

"I ain't that organized."

"That I'll believe."

"So," he said, lighting the cigarette and inhaling. "Where you headed next?"

She quieted. Was this his way of telling her she couldn't stay here? That was odd. Because she could've sworn that a few weeks ago he'd told her he loved her. But now, suddenly, he just wanted to get rid of her.

"I haven't really thought about it. I guess I should be heading out soon though."

"What's the rush?"

Okay, now he was playing games with her mind, and it was getting on her last nerve. Did he want her or not?