Thanks, guys! And to be honest, I don't usually like the idea of them getting off the island either, but this story was swarming around in my head like a virus, so I had no choice but to get it out. Lol. ;)


Chapter Six

In a sense, she kept her word. When he opened his eyes the next morning, he was alone - the door was closed, and there was nothing there to disturb him. But something had awakened him, that was for damn sure. What was it? He waited, listening, trying to figure out what had interrupted his sleep.

Then he heard it again...a dull thud, followed by a dragging, grinding sound. What the fuck? His first instinct was to be worried about her...Had somebody come into the house? He couldn't hear any voices, but something strange was going on. Getting out of bed quickly and pulling on his jeans, he followed the sound downstairs and then came to a halt in the doorway of the living room, bewildered.

Every single item of furniture was collected in the middle of the room, some of it upended, half of it piled on top of other pieces of furniture. It looked like some kind of bizarre vortex had sucked everything into a central position and then fizzled out, leaving it stranded there.

He looked around in utter confusion, thinking nobody was in the room. All of a sudden, Kate's head emerged on the far side of the pile from behind a rocking chair. She was back in her original jeans and tank top again, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail. To complete the ensemble, she was armed with a dusting cloth and a broom.

"Hey," she said, a little breathlessly.

At first he couldn't even form words. Finally, he sputtered, "What the hell is this!"

Completely unaffected by the tone of his voice, she looked at him almost sympathetically. "Did you do the furniture arrangement in here yourself?"

He had no idea what she was talking about. "Yes," he said defensively, trying to figure out where this could possibly be going.

"I thought so." She looked around skeptically. "You don't clean much either, do you?"

He continued to stare at her like she was from another planet.

"It'll look much better when I'm done with it, trust me. You won't even recognize the place."

Finally, it started to dawn on him what she was talking about. She was cleaning. And not just cleaning, but, God help him...redecorating.

Pissed off, he shot back at her, "Yeah? And exactly who the hell gave you permission to do any of this, might I ask? You even remember whose damn house this is, Freckles? Because all I said was that you could hide out here...I don't recall signin' up for no Extreme Makeover, Convict Edition!"

She sighed impatiently. "I can't just sit around all day, Sawyer. I've never been able to do that. Especially at times like this...If I try to relax, I start thinking too much." She seemed distant for a few seconds, but shook herself out of it, vigorously jabbing the broom underneath an end table. "What else am I gonna do to pass the time?"

"I got some better ideas than this," he muttered bitterly.

She laughed and said wryly, "Yeah, well. I'll keep those in mind." After a few seconds, she turned toward him again. "At least it's not possible for it to look any worse than it did. There's that consolation."

He narrowed his eyes at her with contempt. "You coulda at least asked."

"You told me not to wake you up! I was just...following your orders," she said with relish.

"Well, you obviously didn't follow 'em too well, did you, because you woke me up anyway! Sounds like a damn herd of circus elephants let loose in here...Talk about a lovely thing to greet your ears at..." He stopped. "What time is it!"

"One," she answered crisply.

Damn it. He had to quit sleeping so late.

Irritated, he turned to head toward the kitchen, but then looked back at her, a little hopefully. "You gonna make breakfast?"

She looked at him incredulously and gave a short laugh. "No! I ate hours ago. I think you can find something for yourself."

He looked disappointed.

She wasn't sympathetic. "Did you really think I was gonna cook three meals a day for you?"

"You gotta pay the rent somehow, sweet cheeks. And I don't see you takin' me up on any of my other offers."

She rolled her eyes but then seemed to consider. "I'll put on another pot of coffee, but that's it. After that you're on your own." He turned to go, but she called after him. "First help me move this bookcase, though...it weighs a ton."

He heaved a deep sigh and moved angrily over toward the bookcase. Glaring at her, he grabbed one side while she took the other. Together, they pulled it out and dragged it across the floor. As she maneuvered around to his side to fit the case into a corner, his hand slipped and grazed her breast. Pretending she hadn't noticed, she quickly moved back around to the other side without looking at him. What the hell was her problem? he thought. She couldn't even let him cop a feel by accident.

To lessen the awkwardness, she said abruptly, "Oh, I forgot to tell you...your air conditioner's broken."

"I know that," he replied, annoyed. "Been broke for five years."

"Well...Don't you think it's about time to get it fixed?"

"Don't you think I would've already if I wanted to?"

"It's miserably hot in here, Sawyer." She seemed to be talking to a bratty five-year-old.

"It's September...it'll cool down soon enough," he said as he pushed the bookcase as far back as it would go. "Which won't make a hell of a lot of difference to you, because you won't be here, now, will ya?"

"That's true. But...it doesn't change the fact that it's still hot now."

"Look, if you think I'm gonna shell out three hundred bucks to get the damn thing fixed just so that you can be more comfortable movin' around furniture that don't even belong to you, you're outta your mind!"

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Okay," she said finally, in a tone that was almost amused. "Suit yourself."

He followed her into the kitchen where she took the can of newly-purchased coffee down from the cabinet. Could she even tell how much she was annoying the hell out of him? he wondered. If so, it didn't seem to affect her at all. He really didn't know if he was going to be able to handle this. He'd never been around a woman for such an extended period of time before. His method was generally to sleep with them and then send them home for their husbands to deal with. Besides the fact that the husbands were loaded, it was one of the bonuses of having affairs with married women.

A vague idea drifted into his head, and before he could even mull it over or decide whether he liked it or not, he blurted it out.

"I think maybe this whole thing would work better if I just got outta here and let you have the house."

She turned toward him from where she was measuring out the coffee crystals, thinking it was a joke. She was a little surprised to see that he was serious.

"I mean, I'll still..." he faltered. "I can still bring you groceries and stuff...so you don't have to go out or nothin'. But seems like it might be better for both of us if I didn't stay here."

There was a definite glint of disappointment in her eyes, but she turned back to the coffee and shrugged in an attempt at casualness. "Yeah...that's fine...I mean, whatever you want to do. It's no big deal." She glanced back at him. "I've hidden out on my own before, so...I'm pretty used to it."

It was impossible not to pick up on the trace of sadness in her tone. He wanted to kick himself. Why the hell had he said that? He didn't really want to leave. All right, he did... but he knew that the second he was gone, he'd be plagued with worries about her.

She poured the water into the coffee maker and replaced the pot, flipping the button on. "Should be ready in a few minutes." She tried not to look at him as she went back into the living room, because he was too good at reading her. She didn't want him to know how much she hated the thought of being alone.

He sat down at the table, more conflicted than he'd ever been. Would he ever learn to keep his stupid mouth shut? At least until he'd decided what he even wanted? He finally decided he'd retract it somehow...come up with some reason why he couldn't go. It had just been an idea, anyway. He hadn't said anything definite, had he?

When the coffee pot was filled, he poured himself a cup and headed back upstairs. On the way he grabbed the phone book to look up the address of the goddamn air conditioning repairman.


He spent a few hours working on his truck, trying to get it running, but to no avail. He could've just had a mechanic look at it, he supposed, but for some reason he wanted to do it himself. Although he'd been fiddling around with it off and on for years without much luck, it had become almost like a pleasant hobby by now. If the thing had actually started working, he might have been a little disappointed.

After he'd gone in and showered, he came back down to the living room. She almost had the place put back together, and he was amazed at how different it looked. She was right...it was barely recognizable as the same room. It looked a thousand times better. It was almost too bad that there was no way in hell he'd ever tell her that.

Noticing him standing there, she stopped and waited.

"I'm gonna head on into town," he said.

Trying unsuccessfully to cover her disappointment, she nodded. "Okay. I've probably got enough stuff here to last for about...four days?" She was making an effort to sound business-like and distracted. "So...If you want to come by on Saturday.. I can write out another list.."

"That's not what I meant," he interrupted, watching her carefully. "I got some errands to run, is all." He paused, pretending to be in deep thought. "Been thinkin' about it, and it occurs to me that you're prob'ly the last person in the world I want to leave here alone with all my shit. I'd most likely come back to find the place cleared out."

She looked down at the ground and smiled a little. It was an insult, but she was almost glad to hear it, considering what it meant. "You never know," she replied slyly.

"Yeah," he said, his expression softening a little. "So I guess you're stuck with me."

She looked back up at him, and it didn't take a con-man to be able to read the grateful expression on her face. Breaking their gaze reluctantly, he headed for the door. "Don't worry about cookin' anything, I'll get dinner." Jesus, those words sounded strange to his ears...Such a normal thing to say, but had he ever said anything like that before?

"Okay."

"Don't forget to lock up!" he called as he went out.


By the time they'd polished off the pizza he'd brought back, it was completely dark. They sat in the sweltering kitchen, not really sure what to do next. It was insufferably hot, and both of them were visibly sweating.

Sawyer finally spoke, reluctantly. "Stopped by the repair place...air conditioning guy should be out tomorrow at two. So you'll have to make yourself scarce unless you want him to see you here."

She bit off the end of a pizza crust and looked at him comically. "Hm."

"What?" he asked, defensively.

"I didn't say anything." She tried not to smile.

He tilted back in his chair, annoyed.

After a few minutes she sighed deeply. "God, I wish I could go outside. After living on the island so long, being trapped indoors like this is about to make me lose my mind."

He thought for a second. "There's a path that goes down to the lake...runs through a pretty thick grove of trees. I don't see why we couldn't go down there for a few minutes."

She shook her head, worried. "No...it's too risky. Especially after what happened last night."

"I told you that probably wasn't anything. And even if it came back, the light beam wouldn't be able to penetrate through all the trees."

She seemed to consider. "What about your neighbors?"

"Only got the one. And that moron's so stoned off his ass every night he probably wouldn't notice if we walked right into his house."

"You really think it would be safe enough?" She looked at him searchingly. She seemed to want him to take the decision out of her hands, for some reason.

"Yeah. It'll be fine," he said firmly. He almost added, "I promise," but stopped himself in the nick of time. That would be a little too over-the-top.

"All right," she said nervously. "No flashlights, though."

"Won't need 'em. There's a full moon out."

She cleared the table off while he grabbed a beer from the fridge, then, on second thought, grabbed another one, holding it out to her. She hesitated, but then took it.

They made their way outside, and after a few seconds, he located the beginning of the path out behind the shed. Luckily, it was established and well-worn enough that it didn't have to be mown often - the dirt was packed down so solidly that it was pretty much a permanent fixture. They started down it single file, Sawyer in front. At one point, Kate tripped over a root and grabbed his arm for balance, but then let go as quickly as she could. "Sorry," she said shortly.

The path finally opened up onto a small area of bank bordering the lake. They descended down the hill to the dock, and Sawyer tentatively tested it with his weight to see if the wood was showing any signs of rotting. It felt as solid as ever. He gestured to her to join him, and when she got to the edge, she immediately took her sandals off and dangled her feet in the water. He had to smile.

She looked up at him, questioningly. "You gonna sit down?"

He lowered himself beside her on the narrow edge of the dock. There was barely room for two people to fit there, but she still managed to keep an inch of space between them. He popped the tab on the can. She followed suit, and for a moment they drank, neither one speaking.

When he'd finished his beer, Sawyer crinkled the can with his hand and dropped it off the edge of the dock into the lake. Wordlessly, Kate leaned over and fished it out, setting it on her opposite side. He tried not to roll his eyes.

After a few seconds of staring out at the view, she asked, "What is that...a jet?"

He looked up at the tiny blinking red light moving soundlessly across the sky. "Yep."

"It looks so small from here," she said in a quiet voice. "It's weird to think of all the people inside that thing...All those separate lives..just...floating around up there." She continued to follow the blinking dot with her eyes. "They probably haven't even talked to each other."

"Let's hope for their sakes that they end up at an airport so they don't have to."

She smiled and looked back down at the lake. "Do you miss it at all?"

"Miss what?"

"You know what." She paused. "The island."

"Do you?"

"I know it's crazy, but yeah. I really do." She went on, wistfully. "I think, in some ways, I'd be happier if we'd never been rescued at all."

He shook his head in contempt. "Your head ain't on right."

"You didn't answer my question, though. About whether you miss it."

He looked at her sideways, unable to tell her a complete lie. "I'll tell ya what I miss. I miss watchin' the doctor make a fool out of himself tryin' to play golf. Miss tellin' that little Cockney bastard where he can stick his guitar. And...Well, hell, I might as well admit it, Freckles. I miss the damn dog."

She laughed. "Me too."

After a few seconds of quiet, she sighed. "It's really beautiful here, isn't it?"

"It ain't bad," he agreed.

"It must have been a great place to be a kid...until...you know." she stopped, a little awkwardly.

"Yeah. It was nice while it lasted," he said, bitter.

"It kind of reminds me of where I grew up. Not the mountains, I mean. Just...how quiet it is."

"And where might that be?" he asked curiously.

"Iowa," she replied with a trace of irony.

"No kiddin'," he drawled slowly. "Have to say, sweetheart, I never would have pegged you for a country gal."

"Not just a country gal. A farm gal. We had cows," she continued, in an amusingly confidential tone of voice.

"Well, ain't you just full of surprises." He smiled at her.

She smiled back, but looked away as a shadow seemed to pass over her face. "Yeah, well...It didn't last long for me either. I got out of there as soon as I possibly could."

"How come?"

The shadow was darkening now. She was looking into the past, unable to turn her inward vision away from it, despite the horror of what she found there. He knew that feeling much too well. She shook her head shortly, abruptly. "Don't."

"You brought it up."

"I know. But...I can't." She pulled her feet out of the water and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around the top of them tightly.

He watched her, sympathetic but also fascinated. "You ever gonna tell me?"

"Maybe." Her voice was tight, and she was apparently trying to hold back tears. "But not tonight." When he didn't look away, she looked into his eyes, imploringly. "Please, Sawyer."

Sighing, he nodded slightly in acceptance and turned away. She rested her chin on the platform of her crossed arms, looking sadly out at the lake.

"Yeah, well." He spoke with a tone of finality. "Sounds like your childhood was about as much fun as mine was."

Rolling her chin around and resting her cheek on her arm, she faced him, and, with an attempt at a smile, whispered, "Just about."

He let a few seconds pass by, and then, gradually, almost imperceptibly, he leaned into her so that their sides were lightly pressed against one another. She tensed for just a fraction of a second, but didn't move away. There wasn't really anywhere to move, other than into the water. Accepting the comfort for what it was, and knowing instinctively that he wasn't going to try for anything more, she relaxed again.

With equally haunted eyes, the two of them continued to stare out over the darkened water as the moon rose higher in the sky.