An angsty adventure? I like that. It describes what I (usually) write well. Thanks for the confirmation on the sailing stuff (and the compliments), AlwaysDizzy -- I felt a bit like I was working on one of those shows where the writers throw a lot of jargon together and hope it makes sense.

I'm still not sure about Phuket, ms metaphor -- if I can find some more substantial spoilers, than maybe. And EternalConfusion, well, you know how I love my realism -- I thought the reality of their situation made for a much more interesting story than the whole resort fantasy. You'll see where I'm going with that in this chapter.

And as for Kevin, gia -- I'm so glad he's like that. I'll admit to a little crush on Nathan Fillion -- I love his voice, especially when he does the whole murmuring thing. It gives Jack a run for his money. If it came to a choice between him and Jack, it would be a lot tougher than the one between Jack and Sawyer. Hmm, so the Kevin thing explains Kate's reluctance to "dig in" with Jack... I knew all of that, and a little more, so it wasn't too spoilery. If anything, it wasn't spoilery enough! I still have no idea how I'm going to write him...


Chapter 11. So You Conned Them?

The conversation died as they left the harbour, and the boat behind, stepping out onto the streets of Bali.

Kate felt her exasperation begin to fade as she took in their surroundings, which, while composed of many of the structures found in Western cities, seemed to have taken on a life and colour of their own. The heavily congested streets were lined with shops, restaurants, open-aired kiosks and bazaars, as well as several US chains – she spotted a Starbucks, a Pizza Hut, two McDonalds, and a KFC – but unlike in the US, there was a thatched-roofed temple on almost every corner, with idols of Buddha, and various Hindu gods, adorning the walled gardens that surrounded it.

Passing a tourist information tent, Kate stopped to pick up one of the guidebooks, scanning the pages until she came to the section on accommodation. She skimmed over the list of five star hotels and resorts, most of which were on the West coast anyway, until she found some places that were more within their price range.

"The good news is, we don't have to resort to shared accommodation," she said, looking up at Jack, who had stopped beside her, gazing around the busy street. The change in atmosphere seemed to have had the same affect on him as it had her; he was in better spirits now, turning away from admiring the architecture of one of the temples as he waited for her to continue.

"Normally, if I was as low on funds, and prospects, as we are now, I'd go to a backpackers' hostel or something. But it says here," she pointed to the book, and he moved around to read over her shoulder, "that if we don't mind the lack of air conditioning, and personal service, we can get a fairly decent room for between five and ten US dollars a night."

"If the nights are anything like the days here, Kate…" he began reluctantly, trailing off when she gave him a hard look.

"We're not going to be spending much time there," she said, already feeling a little stir-crazy after spending the last day and a half on the boat. "And they have ceiling fans, see?" She pointed to the black and white picture in the guidebook. "I know it's not perfect, but it's better than the island, right? We didn't have air-con there and we survived."

He cracked a little smile then, so she closed the book, taking a step towards him as she added, "Besides, if it gets too hot, we can always strip down, right?"

He chuckled softly, his smile turning into a full-blown grin. "You're just saying that so that you can get your own way."

"Works doesn't it?" She leaned in so that she was close enough to kiss him, and he laughed again, bringing his lips down softly to hers.

"How much cash do you have on you?" she asked when she pulled away a second later. He hadn't said as much, but he'd stopped arguing, so she figured she'd won.

He looked confused at this. "We've been on a deserted island for three months, Kate – when would I have had time to go to an ATM?"

She shook her head to clarify that this wasn't what she'd meant. "Did you rent a car in Australia, or catch a cab to the airport?"

"I rented a car."

He still looked confused, so she elaborated, saying, "So then you must have had some money on you when you boarded the plane, unless you paid by credit." If he was one of those people, that could be a problem, but she was working from the assumption that Jack was a perpetual boy scout – always prepared.

"I don't remember – that was three months ago, Kate. My father had just died – I wasn't exactly thinking straight."

She held out her hand. "Give me your wallet."

He looked a little taken back by the audacity of her command, but he took his wallet out of his backpack, depositing it into her waiting palm. She gave him an amused look as she opened it, riffling through the contents: key cards, credit cards, driver's licence; she had to force back a grin, he'd had longer hair then, making him look strange, boyish, but still gorgeous, in an oddly adorable way. "I saved up a couple of grand working on a farm in Australia," she said, deciding not to comment on the picture. "It was supposed to get me here, but the marshal took it with the rest of my stuff."

Finding what she was looking for, she pulled out a wad of cash. "There must be at least six hundred dollars Australian here," she told him incredulously. "You travel with six hundred dollars in your wallet, Jack?"

He looked embarrassed, as if he'd forgotten about all cash that during their time on the island, which, she reflected, he probably had. "Why? How much do you usually carry?"

"A hell of a lot less than that most days." She laughed, adding, "Lucky for us, you're paranoid." She counted the money again, to make sure that her first estimate had been right. "The exchange rate is pretty good here, so this should last us a while, until we can figure out what to we're going to do about money." She replaced the cash, handing the wallet back to him, surprised when he looked at her strangely.

"Money's not really an issue, Kate, once we can get to a bank. I used to earn over a hundred grand a year – I've got more savings than I can comfortably spend in, I don't know, a while."

Once again, Kate was struck by the feeling that he hadn't thought their situation through as well as she had. "You had savings," she said, as gently as she could. "Past tense. You're dead, remember? Even if your accounts are still open – even if your mother kept them open after the crash – you can't access them without people getting suspicious. The same goes for any credit cards you have."

He was beginning to look a little sick, making Kate wish, as much as she wanted to stay here with him, that he'd listened to her in the first place. He wasn't cut out for this kind of lifestyle; he wasn't used to having to worry about money, or where his next pay check was coming from, or going hungry, or sleeping outside when there were beds readily available. That struggle was all she'd even known, except during the brief time that she was with Kevin, but for him, it was a frightening new reality.

"What do you usually do?" he asked, and she could see that this thought had never occurred to him either. It wasn't really something you thought about unless you had to, she guessed.

"Well, sometimes my dad would send me money," she explained, "but that's not going to happen anymore." She rushed on quickly, determined not to think about the reason for this. It was too painful, the knowledge that after everything, Sam thought she was dead, that she'd died before he could help her straighten out her life.

"When that ran out, I'd find a job that paid cash if I could, or—" she trailed off, realising that in spite of her resolve to be honest with him, there were some things she couldn't tell him. Helping her run was one thing, but for the most part, he was still a fairly black and white guy; earning an honest living was one thing, but some of her methods for obtaining funds didn't exactly fall into that category.

"Or?" he was getting agitated now, seeming to sense the reason behind her abrupt silence.

She didn't want to have this argument now, especially in such a public place. "Can we just get off this topic, please?" she asked, flashing back to his refusal to talk about his travels earlier. Why was she the one always being put on the spot, when he wouldn't answer a simple question? "You saw the guidebook – if we're careful, we've got a few weeks before money becomes a problem, so let's just worry about it then."

She turned away from him, intending to keep walking, but he took hold of her arm, stopping her. "Why are you being so evasive, Kate? How else did you get money?"

Up until that point, she'd kept her patience with him and his naivety, but Kate found herself getting truly angry then, so angry that she couldn't resist snapping, "Let's just say there are a lot of really stupid guys out there with a lot of cash, and even bigger libidos."

He dropped her arm, looking simultaneously horrified and incredulous, as if he didn't know her all of a sudden.

"I didn't sleep with then, Jack," she said, her tone still acerbic, "so you can stop looking at me like that.

"But if I was somewhere having dinner, or if I was in a bar, and one of them offered to pay, I didn't exactly correct that assumption. That's how I met Jason." While she knew that it wasn't an especially virtuous thing to do, she couldn't help but be defensive, her arms coming to rest over her chest. She wasn't a bad person; she'd only done what she needed to to survive on her own.

"So you conned them?" Jack's face turned a slightly whiter shade of pale, and she could tell that he was having trouble just staying with her at this point.

"I never asked for their money, Jack. I'm not a whore." She swallowed, fighting back tears. "I was just minding my own business – if they were stupid enough to think it would be that easy, then yeah, they deserved to get conned." He had no right to judge her, not when he'd probably done the same thing to other women himself. He may not have expected the same service, but that thought must have been there, somewhere at the back of his mind.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is, how wrong?"

"It was that, or go hungry, so you can stop judging me, Jack," she spat, incensed that he thought he had some kind of control over her actions, some right to an opinion. It was all right for him to take the moral high ground; no one had ever offered him that choice. Faced with starvation, you could only hold onto those kinds of values for so long, before your body mutinied, and you had to do something. If they kept down this road, he would know that soon enough.

"This whole thing was your idea, remember?" she said, hoping that he finally understood why she hadn't wanted to drag him into the mess she'd made of her life. "I was going to turn myself in. If you can't handle it, then maybe we should just go back to the US. You can go back to your old life, and I can…" she trailed off, not wanting to dwell on her fate once they reached America.

He softened at that, apologetic as he placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "That's not what I want, Kate," he said, his eyes full of regret and sadness, making her feel guilty about the cruel way she'd spoken to him. They hadn't fought like that since they'd been together; she didn't want to break up, she just wanted him to understand.

But this was hard for him, harder than she could ever imagine. What she'd done for three years, he'd only been doing for two days; it was going to take him a while for him to adjust.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said, "but if we're going to keep doing this, then you're going to have to accept that the Jack Shephard you knew – that we both knew – is dead. We can't afford to do things his way anymore, not if we're going to survive."