Like any other hall in the prison,it was dimly lit and dirty, its floors reflecting yellowy light that illuminated two people's faces. These two people were vastly different – one was a man, the other a woman. The man, tall and burlesque, wore a tan uniform shirt with jeans with a thick black belt. A gun in its holster hung by his side. There was a serious expression on his face.

The woman was younger, smaller. She too wore a uniform, but it was navy blue. Her face was unreadable; it was difficult to discern whether she was surprised, nervous, or pleased. Her eyebrows were arched, her face was pale, and her lips were pressed together. She walked in front of the man, but she did not know in which directions to go. The man told her in a soft grumble whether to take lefts or rights as he opened gates with the touch of a few buttons.

The woman was Katherine Austen, and today she was being released from prison after three months awaiting a trial and a six month sentence.

Kate felt sick with anticipation. Her emotions were so jumbled that it was hard to understand herself how exactly she was dealing with the news that in a few more turns, a couple more gates, she would be outside. She would be standing in a parking lot without handcuffs, and Jack would be there, grinning. She would run to him, and he would lift her up and spin her around like in those old war movies when the soldier sees his fiancée for the first time in months. Kate smiled slightly at the thought.

Then the final door opened, and she saw sunlight.


Jack stood, feeling awkward, in front of his car, half-sitting on the hood. So this was it. Any second she would come out of that door and for the first time since he said goodbye to her in the hospital all those months ago, she would be standing in front of him, with nothing – not a table, not glass – between them. For the millionth time, he wondered what it would be like now that she was free.

Not like the island, he knew not to be so foolish and ever think that. On the island, she was as free as she'd ever been – as a child, she was trapped in an abusive family and as an adult, she was on the run. Only during the ten months they spent there was Kate ever truly free. And jail will have changed her more than anything, Jack reminded himself.

And then the door opened, and he saw her.


She ran to him, just like she foresaw it. His face broke out in complete happiness the moment he saw her, just like she knew it would. But he didn't spin her around, and she didn't laugh and smile and giggle. She managed to throw her arms around his neck before her knees buckled and she collapsed against his chest, sobbing.

Jack wrapped his arms around her, literally holding her up from falling to the concrete. Kate felt his strong hands around her waist and his chin rest lightly on the top of her head. She felt her legs lose their feeling as she tried to stand on her own. She heard herself cry and gulp and sniffle uncontrollably. She tried to stop.

After two minutes, she was able to gasp, "I don't know what's wrong with me." She stood on wobbly feet. She wiped at her face, trying to dry it, but found that tears would not stop dripping out of her eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

She looked up at Jack. He had a sad smile, and he raised his hands and placed the on either side of her face. She realized that they were shaking.

"Nothing," he said gravely, "is wrong with you."


They drove with the windows and the sunroof down; cool autumn wind brushed their faces. Kate sat with hands folded. Her head was leaning slightly out the window, reminding Jack, with a touch of hilarity, of a dog. He could not help but continue to make quick glances at her as he drove, afraid that if he kept his eyes on the road for too long, she'd disappear. She hadn't spoken since she got into the car and that was okay. He would wait.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, she spoke, ducking her head completely into the car as she did so. "Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… could you pull over for a sec?"

He couldn't read her face; he never could. He didn't have a clue as to why she wanted to stop, but the next opportunity he had, he pulled to the side of the busy highway.

Kate turned to him. Her mouth was upturned and there was a sparkle in her eyes that he hadn't seen in almost a year. With a flash, she had leaned over and kissed him. Jack was so surprised for a moment that he didn't move. Then he eased into the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck again, but this time, it was with a soft, pleased motion. They smiled against each other.


"So, this is your apartment." Kate said unnecessarily, scanning the place. The living room, which was large and roomy, morphed into the kitchen, and she saw a hall that led, presumably to the bedroom. It was a lovely apartment, but she noticed how bare it was. There was nothing on the walls and there was little furniture. It lacked personality, and she knew it was only this way because Jack was oblivious.

"Yep. This is it." He threw his arms up in an exaggerated motion, as if performing on a stage. He watched Kate as she examined the counters, the couch, and the huge window that overlooked the busy street below. She was as thin as ever, he thought painfully, with protruding cheekbones and pale, sickly looking skin. She still wore her navy uniform and her hair was in a loose ponytail. Somehow, despite all of this, she looked beautiful. Perhaps she was more beautiful, because she weathered everything and still managed to be pretty.

Suddenly her piercing, alert eyes were on his.

"Why're you staring at me?" she asked, smiling slightly.

"I just… I can't believe…" He was at a loss for words.

"Me either!" She cried out suddenly, her smile turning to a beam. "I didn't remember what it was like to feel wind on my face, or kiss you! Well, I did, but... not really...Or even move around without being followed by government employees! Or..." Her jumbled words rushed out of her mouth.

"I'm quitting my job!" Jack interrupted loudly, before he even realized what he was saying. He stopped. He… was? He didn't even recognize that he had been miserable at the hospital for months – eve since he got back from the island. Now that Kate was here, in front of him, he knew he couldn't go back. "I'm quitting my job." He said again, as if to cement it. He exhaled excitedly.

"But you used to love being a surgeon." Kate said, confused.

Jack grinned like a boy. "I know!"

She laughed out loud, in relief. Here was her joy, her final feeling of liberation that she had been waiting for. She was home; this was home. She was suddenly pressed against him, her face upturned to his, and they were both releasing the laughter that they had been holding inside them, sounding ridiculous even to their own ears. They were suddenly in Jack's bedroom – no, her bedroom too, and they pulled down the shade and collapsed onto the bed.


Kate watched Jack from her place at the door. She had just finished rummaging through the cupboards and the refrigerator to find practically nothing in them. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that the last time she'd managed to eat was yesterday morning. She couldn't remember the last time she was actually hungry.

Jack was lying on his side, his eyes closed and the gentle rhythm of his chest moving up and down in breath. Her eyes filled up with tears. How could he have waited so long for her? How was it that he managed to love her? She still didn't understand.

"Jack?" she called in a whisper.

He stirred, and then sat up in a hurry. "I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I'm sorry. You should be the one who's exhausted. Are you tired?"

"I fell asleep too; I just woke up. And actually, I'm hungry."

He looked more pleased than he should at such a simple thing. She felt a twinge of guilt for causing him worry. After a moment's discussion, he decided that they were going to one of his favorite restaurants. He'd never been there except with coworkers, but it was really nice, he told her.

"Is it expensive?" Kate asked apprehensively.

"Yeah." Jack said happily. After she gave him a look, he was slightly mollified. "Okay, so neither of us have jobs. I'm a surgeon." (Kate smiled at the twinge of arrogance Jack held for his profession.) "I've got some money tucked away that'll last us a while. Besides, what better reason for celebration do you need?"

So, after a quick stop to a women's store where Kate bought a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hat so she wouldn't be noticed, they went to the fanciest place in all of Los Angeles.

Kate had never been somewhere so nice. Iowa wasn't the swankiest part of the United States. She tried not to ogle noticeably at the chandeliers and the embroidered tablecloths. There was even a lobby – a lobby for a restaurant! She hoped Jack didn't notice how amazed she was by an upscale restaurant.

In the corner of the lobby, there was a beautiful grand piano, all smooth and shining. Without an explanation or a well thought out decision, she crossed the room and sat down on the bench. It was soft, with a silk black cushion.

Jack followed her. "Kate?"

She ran her hands over the keys without playing any of them. Ivory keys, white and black, eighty-eight keys all in tune, she was sure.

"Kate, what are you…" But Jack stopped speaking as she closed her eyes with an almost plaintive expression, and played the first notes.

It was a waltz, Jack realized, though he didn't pretend to know much about music. It was a soft, flowing waltz that sounded complicated just to the ear. He watched her graceful hands hover over notes and complicated melodies. Her straight back was swaying slightly in time with the beat. Her eyes remained closed, and he knew instantly that this was a song that she knew by heart, and even though it had been several years, it was an easy feat.

He was reminded fleetingly of Sarah, who played the piano with the air of a practiced, disciplined student. It was nothing like this – Kate was playing without thinking, it was effortless and beautiful. It wasn't sharps and flats and scales, it was just music.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and feel the life in her, feel the happiness that was finally being allowed to be experienced and show on her animated face. But he didn't dare interrupt her playing. He realized this was not ordinary.

Kate had been waiting for this music to begin for years.

A/N – Well, folks, that was it! Should I write a sequel? Or let it be? Tell me!

The sequel should involve abumpy Jate relationship, as Kate is forced to deal with depression and the harshness from strangers and acquaintances who are appalled at her light sentence. Not everything will be perfect like she'd idealistically thought.