Disclaimer: I do not own Kate or Sawyer. I also don't own Gone With the Wind. Margaret Mitchell does. I just borrowed it as inspiration.

Summary: Sawyer thinks about a classic story, and Kate shows him how much that story applies to both of them.

Notes: Set right after "Deus Ex Machina". Locke has brought Boone to Jack. I had to change a few small details around in order to make the story work, but the main plotline is in place.

Chapter 2: Rhett Rewrites the Ending

Sawyer walked along the beach towards camp, determination set in his eyes. He needed to find Kate and he needed to find her now, before his courage wore off that is. Before he had been afraid, afraid that Kate could never be interested in an outcast like him. The doc seemed more like Freckles' type, hell the doc seemed more like every woman's type.

He heaved a tremendous irritated sigh as the thought of the doc crossed his mind. He always found a way to be the big damn hero. He was always saving lives and fixing headaches and curing poison ivy and all that crap that Sawyer didn't know nothing about. That doc was a tremdous pain in his ass, and he intended to stay as far away from the bastard as he could. He figured as long as he wasn't standing right next to the big shot knight in shining armor then maybe he actually would stand a chance to be seen as a decent guy. But compared to the hero, Sawyer would always be the guy everyone loved to hate. Not that he minded. Actually, it was what kept him amused most days. But when it came to Freckles…well that was a whole other story.

And then, he found her.

There she was, talking to the big damn hero again. Had she forgotten him already? Had she already abandoned Rhett for Ashley? He mentally smacked himself for ever getting into this ridiculous game. His determined gaze turned to one of anger and frustration. It occurred to him that maybe it was all a tease, set to punish him for, well, everything bad that he'd done since they'd landed on this godforsaken rock.

Because, in the end, Scarlett didn't end up with Rhett. Sure, it wasn't her call. Rhett had left her because he'd finally decided that she was a bitch and too much trouble for his own good. Did Sawyer need more trouble? Not really. Hell, he could find trouble easier then sand on this damn island. He didn't need Freckles to help him out with that one.

And the voice in the back of his mind said "Screw her. Go back to camp and take a nap like you were planning on doing." He turned around and the book fell from his hands and into the sand. He regretted that, just for those few moments, he had thought he was deserving of all the happiness that she could give him. He was wrong. He chanced one last look in her direction.

Something was wrong. The mountain man was there, and the rich chick's big brother was in his arms. Big brother was bleeding and Jack was tending to him. He just barely caught a glimpse of Freckles as she ran off into the woods. Not one more thought passed through his head before he headed off in her direction, careful to avoid contact with the doc and the mountain man.

He finally caught up with her, of all places, at his campsite. She was searching through his bags with determination.

"Hey Freckles!" He shouted. She looked up from her place in his shelter. Something was clearly wrong here. She was not nearly as free and confident as she had been. He was out of breath when he reached her. He rested his hands on his knees and stared at her. "What happened to big brother? Its look'in bloody back there."

She had tears in her eyes, but she was too strong to let them fall.

"Boone's hurt really bad. Sawyer, I need all your alcohol." He immediately obliged. More then anything at that moment he wanted to take her into his arms and hug her. These compulsions weren't normal for Sawyer and, frankly, they really freaked him out.

"Sure, whatever you need. As long as I can come with ya." He reached into his bags and took out handfuls of tiny airline bottles.

She gratefully accepted the bottles and put them in her bag. "Thanks Sawyer," She said gratefully, "but I think we have enough help right now." She stood up to leave.

"Wait!" He said loudly. She stopped and looked back at him. He stood and grabbed her by her wrist. "For the record, Rhett Butler was an asshole for treating Scarlett like he did. He was an ass and a coward. If he had been a better man he would have let her kiss him in the end, instead of letting her go. He was a goddamn pansy and I bet he'll regret it everyday for the rest of his sorry life." He stopped and looked down, afraid to see her expression. "Anyway, I just thought you should know that."

When he looked up again she was looking back at him. He couldn't read her expression at first, it was one of confusion mixed with thoughtfulness. He moved to let go of her wrist, to let her go.

Then she was kissing him. He lost track of time and place and everything except for the sensation of her lips against his. It was halfway through the kiss when he began to actually kiss her back and he lifted his hand to brush the hair out of her face. It was even better then he had imagined. But it wasn't seductive or passion driven. It was something else. It was need. Pure need. She needed something, and he was able to give it to her. It wasn't what he had pictured it to be, but it was real none-the-less.

She broke the kiss quickly when they both became aware of the emergency that had brought them together in the first place. She looked down, as if unsure about what she was about to say.

"If you want to help, well…" She began. He took her hand again, signifying that his intentions were purely to help. "We can't find Shannon. She should be here just in case…" She trailed off again.

He cupped her face with his hand. "Gotcha." He noticed that there was something else in her eyes, it was fear. The same thing that had been in her kiss. He pulled her into a hug which she accepted without much fight. He whispered in her ear. "It'll be ok. Doc'll make 'im better. That's his job, right?" She pulled back and looked at him with gratitude. She nodded in reply and turned to go back to camp, breaking into a run as she reached the woods.

He turned and headed towards camp. Maybe he couldn't fix the patient. Maybe he couldn't save his life. But he was good for somethan'. He could do this simple task and maybe big brother wouldn't have to bite the big one all alone. Or, maybe Sticks could give Big Brother the strength to go on, or whatever they say about that sort of thing.

Maybe he wasn't no big damn hero. But he could make her smile. He could make her day easier. Rhett wouldn't do that for Scarlett, but he wasn't Rhett. He was Sawyer. And she was Kate. And they had their own story to define them.

Now, where would a rich chick go to hide anyway?