A/N: I admit, last chapter was a bit rushed as I wrote it fast in one sitting. Normally, I don't post until I've revised and revised. So here I am, back with a revised chapter :)

Hold on to your hats!

Kate strode alongside Charlie, trying her best to listen sympathetically. Charlie was a scrawny young fellow, blond, Australian and insecure. Although first and foremost, Charlie was a big time dreamer.

"Just cause you've got the baby blues doesn't mean you just take off like that and abandon your baby," Charlie stated adamantly. "There's gotta be something...I'm sure something serious must have happened... I know Claire, she's a good person..." he pursed his lips, his eyes full of emotion. "She loved her baby."

Kate looked away, her expression clearly revealing she wasn't so sure of Claire's intentions. She knew that Charlie was head over heels in love with Claire so she didn't want to burst his bubble. One thing seemed for sure, Claire seemed to care for Charlie only as a friend.

In light of his electrifying encounter with the polar bear a few weeks ago, Fitz kept constant watch over his surroundings whenever he ventured out into the jungle. In addition, he always carried the marshal's gun in the back of his pants, just in case.

For a while, he didn't talk much, content to listen to the others as they cut across the island. Somewhere in the background, he was dimly aware of the jungle noises: small reptiles rustling through decaying foliage and the occasional whistle of various birds.

Soon enough, a few steps ahead of him, Kate and Charlie were engaged in a lengthy conversation, and he found himself listening to John Locke who apparently had a lot to say.

"Me, well, I'm a man of faith," John Locke turned to Fitz sharply as they walked, " Do you really think all this is an accident? That we, a group of strangers survived, many of us with just superficial injuries? Do you think we crashed on this place by coincidence? Especially this place? We were brought here for a purpose, for a reason, all of us. Each one of us was brought here for a reason."

"So you believe there is a reason for everything," Fitz re-stated cautiously. They were walking side by side at this point

"The island. The island brought us here. This is no ordinary place, you've seen that, I know you have, " Locke studied Fitz intently, trying to gauge his thoughts. "It's destiny."

Fitz shook his head, disagreement etched in his expression. He didn't really believe in destiny as a pre-determined set of events but rather, he believed that we are the masters of our own destiny in that our fate all depends on the choices we make.

"Let me tell you something...I was a cripple, " he paused for dramatic effect and did not continue until Fitz stopped scanning their surroundings to meet his gaze. "Before I got on that plane I was in a wheelchair...and look at me now," he grinned from ear to ear. "I haven't told anybody...but right after the crash, I was a new man. My legs worked again after years of being handicapped. It was a miracle."

"Are you trying to say it had something to do with the island?" Fitz asked, incredulous. "If that's so...why did the Marshal die? " Suddenly, his mood lightened and continued talking without waiting for Locke's response. "I tell you what, so called miracles are just the result of the right set of circumstances at the right point in time. My father used to tell the story of a woman, a mother who's standing on a sidewalk, hopelessly choking. She had just swallowed a penny and it got lodged in her throat. Right then, a man in suit walks by and gives her the Heimlich...and out pops the penny. The woman says 'gosh, Doc, I can't thank you enough.' And the guy in the suit says, " Fitz chuckled and paused. "Oh, no, I'm not a doctor, I'm from the IRS. Then, the man snatched the penny and ran."

Locke's lips turned into a mile wide smirk. "Your dad appeared to have a good sense of humor."

"He told that story so many times, " Fitz went on, "I can recite it word per word in my sleep. Now... You may be wondering...What's the moral of the story?"

"Hmm...dunno..." Locke grinned again with added lightheartedness. "When you're choking, be sure to call your local IRS agent?"

Fitz smiled to himself. "More like the IRS will come to your rescue you as long as there's a good reason."

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes.

"Did you ever hear about Walter Cronkite, the news reporter?" Locke said in an attempt to break the silence. In addition, he was also eager to tell his own tale.

Fitz shrugged. "What about him?"

"A keen sailor, he once steered his boat into a Maine port. As he drew near, he was pleased to see a small crowd of people enthusiastically waving their arms at him. He could barely hear their excited shouts of 'Hello, Walter! Hello, Walter!' As his boat approached the shore, the crowd grew louder and their greeting more determined. "hello, Walter, Hello, Walter!"

Fitz sighed and continued walking at a brisk pace.

At this point, Kate and Charlie slowed down their pace to listen to the rest of the story.

"Anyways, Cronkite tipped his sailor hat, absolutely delighted at the reception, waved and even took a vow," Locke continued with a smirk. "But before he reached port, the boat suddenly got stuck. The crowd was still. That's when he realized what the crowd had been shouting all along: shallow water, shallow water!"

Charlie let out a laugh. Kate and Fitz looked amused for a few seconds and then shook their heads as if to say, "oh, c 'mon!

"The moral of the story, you may wonder?" Locke half smiled at his audience, yet appearing most interested in what Fitz had to say.

"Uh, that's a tough one," Fitz started in a lighthearted tone. " How about...Don't get so wrapped up in your own ego that you lose track of what's under your nose."

"Close...how about don't let your ego stand in the way of the truth." Locke simply replied no longer smiling. "On the surface, they may appear the same but there is a subtle difference."

Right then, the group reached a clearing, an ideal spot for a rest.

Fitz rolled his eyes and attempted to disengage by keeping to himself. He was not really in the mood for philosophical discussions. He'd only humored Locke because he had nothing better to do at the moment. Sitting on the nearest rock, he unzipped his backpack to retrieve his water bottle. He drank half the bottle in a flash.

Locke sat down with his back against a tree in a sudden quiet mood.

Charlie sat down on a patch of greenery. Then, he started humming a tune. "C'mon everybody, c'mon everybody," he continued pretending to drum a guitar. "You all heard of Drive Shaft? I'm the lead singer," he proudly stated.

Kate arched her brow, cocked her head. "Drive shaft?" She set her backpack on the ground, yet remained standing.

Charlie's ego appeared a little deflated. "Yeah, my band is called Drive Shaft."

"Never heard of it," Kate shrugged.

Charlies's eyes brightened. "Well, y'know, Right now as we speak, Drive Shaft got it's first platinum record, as in a million units sold. Drive Shaft's albums must have spiked when everybody found out that I have died in some catastrophic plane disaster. " He continued to speak in his standard Australian Accent, his eyes dancing with excitement. "When I come back, alive, it's gonna be insane!"

Fitz cast them a sideways glance, dubiously and chimed in the conversation. "So you really think this draft they're building is gonna work, huh?" He asked while putting his water bottle back in his backpack. He made a mental note to pace himself: he only had six water bottles left and they were now deep in the jungle, far away from the caves. They might have to shorten their expedition and head back regardless of whether or not they found Claire.

"Of course it'll work..." Charlie's voice became increasingly animated. "It's not a raft; they're building a sodding boat! When they get picked up, the helicopters will come, making us ridiculously and eternally famous! Charlie's gaze shifted between Kate and Fitz who shook their heads and rolled their eyes in unison. "What's the matter? Don't you wanna be famous?" he asked, focusing on Kate, wanting her to agree.

"All we got is some bamboo and the seats from the fuselage. ...but really what are the odds of surviving in rough waters...in the middle of the ocean for God knows how long?" Fitz pondered.

Kate frowned. "Sooner or later we're bound to find a shipping lane..."

Fitz peered at Kate long and hard. Only four of the survivors were to sail on the raft. "I heard you're one of the volunteers." He shook his head. This was non-sense, a complete suicide mission in his opinion. "What are you gonna do once you run out of food and water?"

Kate pursued her lips. She really didn't want to think about that. "All we need is some optimism here," she stated with a fierce look of determination.

Suddenly, a flicker of sunshine caught Kate's eye: it pointed to something stuck between the branches of a tree, slightly above eye level. She would have missed it, her brain would have been tricked into thinking it was part of the vegetation, had it not been for the light reflecting off it at that precise moment in time. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach plummeted like an elevator dropping fifty floors.

"J...Jack," her voice was thin and muffled as though she was a patient on her deathbed struggling to speak through an oxygen mask.

Following her gaze, Fitz spotted a lone tennis shoe wedged in a redwood tree.

Kate sprinted forward but then reached for the shoe tentatively, as though it was a poisoned creature. "Jack!" She turned to the others adamantly waving the shoe in her hand. "IT'S JACK'S!" She shouted, visibly shaken.

And then they heard it.

A slow crescendo at first, the rumbling of leaves. Then, the atmosphere seemed to suddenly change from hot, humid and sunny... to windy and gray.

The noise was eerie, very much like the rumbling empty stomach of a wild beast. Deafening.

But it was definitely not an animal, Fitz decided, sprinting to his feet, making a 360 degree turn to access their surroundings. With a single minded motion, he eased his hand behind his back to the waistband of his jeans and drew his weapon.

And then he saw it.

They all stood frozen in time.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Charlie yelled. "It's coming, it's coming towards us!"

It was a thick cloud of black smoke heading directly towards him, the head of which appeared shaped like a long skinny hand... menacing, beckoning...

The hair on the back of Fitz' neck stood up and the blood in his veins turned to ice as he watched the black smoke gaining momentum by the second. His jaw dropped, his senses wide alert and listening.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his weapon was as good as useless.

He ran, vaguely aware that the others were already running in different directions.

In their blind haste, Locke and Charlie stumbled over branches and foliage and were no where in sight.

Fitz finally caught up with Kate who was running like a mad woman, and took her hand to guide her in a different direction. His heart thundered in his chest, becoming louder with every step.

Up ahead, he sighted a safe haven: a series of tree stumps, behind tall bamboo poles surrounded by vines.

Once they were safely cocooned by the tree stumps, Kate squeezed her eyes shut, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"What the heck?" Fitz murmured as they both struggled to control their breathing. Whatever that thing was more than simply a cloud of black smoke...it seemed to have some kind of intelligence, if you will...or at least some kind of unequivocal purpose.

Kate drew her index finger to her lips, her eyes wide like saucers. "Shh..."

Right then, they heard an echoing howl and saw a bright light in front of the cloud of smoke just a few feet away, just watching them.

Then, suddenly, inexplicably, the cloud of smoke retreated back to wherever it came from.

They stayed still for the longest time, until they were absolutely sure it was safe to come out from the nest of tree stumps.

"We gotta find Locke and Charlie...which way you thing they went?" Fitz wondered, his eyes sharply scanning their surroundings.

But Kate did not respond. In fact, she did not appear to be listening.

By the time Fitz turned to glance back at her, she was gone.

"Kate! Wait!"

Kate continued moving through the jungle at a brisk, frenzied pace, holding onto Jack's shoe. At one point, she let the shoe drop to the ground. "He's...he's somewhere around here..." she bit her lip, stopping for a few seconds, pressing her temples with the palms of her hands. "Over there!" she pointed, aware that Fitz was right behind her. All of a sudden, her eyes appeared ghastly.

There was an unmistakable rancid smell in the air.

"Stay!" Fitz commanded, his eyes gazing straight ahead.

Kate immediately fell to her knees.

Fitz plodded slowly until he reached a steep drop, no natural embankment. Nothing to stop someone from going over the edge.

Nearly five minutes passed before a deflated Fitz made it back to the same spot where she'd left Kate (she was still kneeling low on the ground). He stopped moving as soon as he made eye contact with her. He swallowed, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

One look was all it took for Kate to understand. Her wails soon followed.

She sounded like a poor wounded animal. "JACK, OH, JACK!" With renewed energy, she started running towards the precipice.

Fitz swiftly caught her in his arms before she got very far. "It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay," he repeated his voice firm yet soothing, holding her by the shoulders until she was relatively calm.

Kate gave fitz a long look, blinking off the long curls that framed her face in disarray. Sobbing, she held his face between her palms, placing a tentative kiss on his lips.

Fitz pulled back, surprised. For a few moments, he remained mute, gazing at her with fathomless gray blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Kate cried, lowering her lashes with sudden coyness. "Believe me, it won't happen again!"

Fitz peered back with steely eyes. "It can't...it can't happen again." He took a few steps back, his hand repeatedly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm in love with Olivia."

xxxxxxx

A/N:

Sorry about Jack, he was a necessary casualty, I'm afraid. I did not go into much detail about what happened to him purposely. Like a said before, deaths in this story will be kept to a minimum and only when absolutely necessary.

About Kate kissing Fitz: DON'T FRET! Her actions are more a reflection of her needs...and NOT Fitz!

I wonder what she'll try next...or do you think that she got the message loud and clear: Fitz is not interested?

Your comments are like gold: very much valued :)