Quickie:

bonboni - A feeling, huh? Paging Dr. Meredith Grey!
SassyLostie - I get what you mean. I don't YELL, persay, at people. But I'm not all that kind either. Anyway, of course Kate will always feel a need to run. She'll always be running from a situation that she's too scared of and when she's unsure of what to do. As James said it best, "A tiger don't change its stripes".
xox-emily-xox - Kate's not going to run, but as she said, she'll have that feeling for a while (see above).

A word about this chapter: Sorry
Sorry because I realize that I got really really redundant.

Chapter 38

A few awkward weeks passed by, calm and content. Sawyer and Kate didn't argue, which was strange. Although, they didn't really share any intimate moments either – which was stranger. They acknowledged each other, made small talk, but ever since their conversation on the swing, they hadn't been as close. Sawyer spent his time running around doing errands or working out in the shed, while Kate spent time taking care of Mackenzie. She also kept herself busy keeping up the house. She'd been into cleaning more than ever, lately.

One quiet night after those few weeks - when they were just starting to get back to things, normally - they were getting into bed. Mackenzie lay curled up near Kate's pillow. Kate lied down, her back to Sawyer. He too lied down, and started to pull Kate in his arms. She snuggled against him and was about to turn around toward him, that is, until Mackenzie took charge. He got up and nuzzled Kate's face. She turned back on her side, and he curled against her. Kate lay loosely in Sawyer's arms now. This had become a routine thing every night, which would particularly annoy Sawyer. He sighed and threw the blankets off of him, getting up and leaving the room.

Sensing something was wrong, Kate, too, got up and followed. She found him in the hall way, his fist on the stair railing, his other hand rubbing his back. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her one hand still clinging to the inside of the doorway.

"You all right?" she asked, quietly.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Fine."

She walked out, pulling the door closed behind her, leaving Mackenzie trapped inside.

"What's wrong?" she asked, walking to him at the staircase.

"Nothin'. I said I'm fine. I'm just…thirsty," he lied, starting to walk down the stairs.

She watched him walking down. "Okay," she replied, simply.

She turned to walk away but then he stopped.

"You know, it's just…" he started.

She turned back watching him. He turned around, and leaned against the railing.

"You know you're treatin' that damn cat like a king," he said, realizing how stupid that sounded.

She couldn't help but smile slightly. "You're jealous of Mackenzie?"

"I'm not jealous of him," he said as if she'd sputtered the words of death. "But you know, it wouldn't hurt to leave him alone for a while, Freckles."

Her smile didn't falter, but her eyebrows scrunched together as she realized what that really meant.

"Are you saying that you think he's getting more attention than you?" she teased.

"Forget it," he said, walking down a few steps.

"Hey," she called softly, walking over to him. She looked up at him, seriously. "What's really wrong?"

He stared down at her, wanting to tell her the truth, but holding himself back. "Nothin'."

As he turned away and walked downward again, she watched his back disappointedly.

"Sawyer..."

He stopped, again, and sighed. "I just think maybe you need to leave him alone awhile. Give him space."

She tried to force back the smile that was creeping across her face. "So you are jealous of him?"

"I ain't jealous!" he argued.

She laughed. "He's a cat, Sawyer."

"That's my point! He's a cat! And you're treatin' him as if he were…" he paused, catching himself before he slipped up. "Never mind."

Her smile finally faded, and she saw how serious he was about this, as amusing as it may be. She could tell where he was headed with that statement. He took another step down then turned back around abruptly.

"I mean ever since he's been here all you do is play with it, feed it, sit with it, pet it. When was the last time we ever did somethin' together?" He quickly added, "Without the damn cat?"

She had no answer for that. Instead she replied, "Well he's young. He needs a little attention."

"A little. Fine. You're givin' him a damn buffet!"

"What do you want me to say, Sawyer? That I'm sorry I'm taking care of him?"

He knew what he wanted to respond, but he didn't. He wouldn't let her see that inkling of weakness in him. It would only amuse her more than she was already. He knew, even through all her seriousness, she was highly amused and wasn't taking the situation as seriously as he was. Then again, he wouldn't expect her to. In her opinion, she was doing nothing wrong.

"Well?" she folded her arms, waiting for an answer.

"Forget it," he repeated, walking the rest of the way down the stairs.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, then followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was standing at the door of the refrigerator, holding the carton of milk when she got there.

"Sawyer, say what you want to say," she said, leaning in the doorway.

He looked at her, and she raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak. He sighed.

"I'm just sayin'," he shrugged, the milk carton swerving in the air. "Maybe the cat wants a little time to be his own cat."

She smiled as he swallowed a large gulp. "You're not the only one who drinks that milk, you know."

"Did you buy it?" he retorted. She stayed silenced. "That's what I thought."

She leaned over the door of the fridge, and grinned at him. He closed the carton and put it back inside, and held onto the handle of the door, staring at her.

"What're you smilin' at?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

A loud meow sounded the house, accompanied by scratching sounds. Kate looked toward the staircase.

"I think I accidentally locked him in the room," she said, leaning off the door.

Sawyer watched her hurry up the stairs to her precious cat. He sighed and closed the fridge. They really should have named it Nuisance…

The next morning, Sawyer woke up and found Kate was gone and Mackenzie had taken her space. He threw the blankets off him and went to the bathroom door. He heard running water and guessed Kate was in there. While he waited, he went downstairs and grabbed himself some juice, and sat on the couch to read the paper. When a half hour had passed by – unusually long for Kate to take a shower – he went back upstairs and knocked.

"Hey. You all right in there?" There was no response, and he didn't hear the water running anymore. "You gonna be outta there anytime soon?"

Instead of answering, Kate came out, her face slightly off color. He looked at her funny.

"All yours," she said, softly.

Then he watched her slowly descend down the stairs. He wondered what was wrong, hoping she wasn't getting sick. Getting sick was the last thing he needed. After using the bathroom, he went back downstairs and found Kate standing in the kitchen looking out the sliding doors. That meant something was definitely not right. He quietly heaved a sigh and went over to her.

"You all right?"

"Fine," she said, still staring.

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"You ain't getting' sick or nothin', are you?"

She looked down, nervously. "No."

"Well somethin's wrong. So what is it?"

She turned around and paused, then grimaced. "Your cologne."

"My what?"

"It's too strong," she shook her head.

"Are you sure you ain't sick?"

She stared at him, unsure of what he meant.

"I haven't put any cologne on since yesterday morning," he explained.

She stared at the floor trying not to let her surprise show. "Oh," she said, dully.

"Oh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said, turning to look back outside. "I just didn't know."

"C'mon. What's on your mind, Freckles?"

She looked down and sighed. He knew she'd cave sooner or later. She turned to face him, frowning, making him uneasy. He suddenly had a bad feeling that he knew what was coming next.

"Sawyer, I need you to do me a favor…"