Thanks so much, everybody! I'm so happy that people aren't starting to lose interest, since it's getting so dang long. ;)

Goldilocke - I meant to go back and separate chapters 9 and 10 the day after I posted them to fix the wonky lineup, but I completely forgot - thanks for reminding me!


Chapter Fifteen

Kate pulled back a corner of the drapes and peeked out the front window again. Still not a sign of him. Sighing, she dropped the curtain and turned back into the room, trying to think of something else to do to kill some time. She'd already showered and done a load of laundry (remembering, of course, to strip the sheets off of Sawyer's bed). He'd left with the list at two, taking the truck since the car was still out of commission. She looked at the clock again, and saw that it was just after five. He should be back by now.

It wasn't like he never left her alone here. He'd found some excuse to go out just about every single day, in fact. She hadn't minded - it had actually been kind of nice to have the house to herself, free for a few hours of his temperamental presence. But this time was different, somehow. She was embarrassed to admit to herself that she actually missed him. And she was also getting a little worried. It shouldn't take this long to buy groceries.

To use up a few more minutes, she went upstairs to get the vase of wildflowers and brought it down to the kitchen table so that she would be able to see it while she prepared dinner. She still couldn't believe that he'd done something so...un-Sawyer-like. He must have been capable of turning on the charm in his scamming days, but she just couldn't picture it. And anyway, that had probably all been an act, with the ultimate aim of obtaining sex and money. This time it was genuine, which made all the difference in the world.

Going back to the front hall and glancing out the window again, she was surprised to see him walking up the driveway, a full bag of groceries under each arm. He looked dirty, sweaty, and, of course, pissed off. Great, she thought. Now what? She went to meet him on the back porch.

"What happened?" she asked, holding the door open for him.

"Guess the damn truck ain't fixed after all!" he said bitingly.

She sighed. "Where is it?"

"Halfway up the road. Now I gotta go get that douchebag Greg to try to pull it back up into the yard." He dropped the bags heavily onto the counter.

"Your neighbor?"

"That's the one," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you can get this shit in the freezer before it melts?"

"What the hell is your problem?" she demanded, getting angry. "You act like this is somehow my fault."

"Well, if you want to get technical, sweetheart..."

"Oh, I have to hear this," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Okay, fine. If you hadn't run off like a damn maniac to that truck stop last night, I never woulda had to try to drive the thing, and I wouldn't'a got my hopes up thinkin' it was fixed. Wouldn't'a taken it today, and..." He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and slammed the door, "It wouldn't be stranded up there in the ditch right now a mile away from the house." He took a long drink, still giving her a pissed-off look.

She stared at him in amused shock. "That's the most idiotic reasoning I've ever heard in my life. Can you even hear yourself when you talk?"

He started back out. "Just get the damn stuff unloaded. I'll be back with the rest." The door slammed behind him, and she heard his angry steps fade away.

She stood there, fighting the uncontrollable urge to laugh. Of course, she was also annoyed, but Good God, he was such a baby! No matter how random the misfortunes that descended upon him, he had to find somebody to blame. She'd be damned if she was going to be that somebody. She had enough real guilt to worry about without taking on the responsibility for chance occurrences like his stupid truck breaking down.

But for today at least, she would try to overlook his immaturity. She wanted things to go smoothly. Looking over at the flowers again, she tried to remind herself of why. It would be a shame if, after last night, they wrapped up today by fighting. She would do her best to take his mind off it and get him back into a better mood. For starters, she could make something nice for dinner. She started to poke around in the cabinets, searching.


Sawyer watched Greg's truck pull out of the driveway. It had taken nearly two hours, and the stupid bastard had been almost too stoned to see straight, but they'd finally gotten the damn thing back into the yard. It occurred to him as he watched his neighbor leave that he was now stranded here without a single working vehicle. Neither the car nor the truck would run, and he had no phone service.

But then he remembered what he did have here. Kate. The realization still took him by surprise, even though he should probably have been getting used to it by now. She had actually chosen to stay. Could that really have happened just this morning? It seemed like a dream.

Gradually, he felt his anger from the events of the afternoon seeping away. None of that really made any difference. What the hell had he been getting so bent out of shape about? He was going to get to sleep with Kate tonight, wasn't he? What could be so bad that it would cause him to forget that essential fact?

But was he going to sleep with her tonight? he wondered, growing uneasy. He now remembered how he'd yelled at her when he brought the groceries in, and how she'd immediately flared up. Jesus, he was an idiot. What the hell made him do stuff like that? He'd have to make it up to her. If she would let him, that was.

As he neared the door leading into the kitchen, he was momentarily startled by her sharp, angry voice. "DAMN it!"

Confused, he hurried in. "What's wrong?"

Turning toward him, she pulled on an oven mitt, lifted a pan up, and threw it forcefully down onto the counter in front of him. "Look at that," she said with barely controlled rage.

He looked. Whatever it was, it was black and burned to a crisp. Acrid smoke rose from it, collecting around the overhead ceiling light.

"What the hell is it?"

"It was supposed to be lasagna!" She yanked the oven mitt off and slammed it down, glaring at him. "Your oven's a piece of shit, Sawyer."

"Oh, so it's the oven's fault?" he asked, trying not to smile. He knew how much that would piss her off.

"No, you're right. It is my fault. And you know why? Because I don't know how to do this! I've never had the same kitchen for more than a few months at a time. I never really learned to cook - I've just picked up some random things along the way." She seemed almost on the verge of tears. "I'm not cut out for this. You want me to poison somebody for you? I can handle that. You want me to rob a bank, or hot wire a car? Then I'm your girl," she said bitterly. "But I can't even cook a damn lasagna."

"What the hell you talkin' about?" he asked, trying, in his own way, to sound supportive. "You're a great cook! Even that thing you made the first night that I didn't wanna eat...that asparagus crap..."

"Artichoke!"

"Whatever," he said, trying to keep his temper.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds, warily, breathing hard and poised for a conflict.

Then, despite her best efforts, the corner of Kate's mouth twitched slightly. She looked down at the floor, then back up at Sawyer. His eyes were gleaming with suppressed mirth.

"You know what, Freckles? I think maybe you were right...we woulda been better off on the damn island." He moved toward her, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. He could tell she was trying not to smile. He went on. "No ovens to worry about there."

"Yeah," she said, softly. "No trucks, either."

He kissed her lightly.

She sighed. "I really wanted this to be a good day."

"Maybe we still got time to save it," he said, looking mysterious.


By the time Kate had finished making sandwiches, Sawyer had located an ancient wicker picnic basket at the top of a shelf in the pantry. He packed it up while she went to grab a flashlight. It was completely dark outside now.

When they reached the lake, Kate spread a blanket out on the dock with a flourish, even though there was really no need for it - they could have just sat on the wood surface. Still, it helped with the atmosphere.

They settled down to eat. There wasn't a full moon, but the stars, combined with their reflection on the surface of the lake, provided a dim glow - just enough to see by.

When they'd finished, Kate started to gather up the trash to re-pack, but Sawyer stopped her.

"Hold on, that ain't all. Got a surprise for ya."

She looked at him curiously.

Reaching into the bottom of the basket, he removed a towel and lifted out a bottle of champagne and two long-stemmed glasses, miraculously unbroken.

She gasped in delight. "Champagne! When did you get that?"

"Today." And then, in a voice that implied she shouldn't get her hopes up, he added, "It's just the cheap kind."

She was touched by his incessant need to downplay everything. "Any kind is fine."

He held the bottle out to her. "You wanna do the honors?"

"That's okay...you go ahead."

As he prepared to remove the cork, she stuck her fingers into her ears and tensed. The cork flew out with a loud popping sound and landed in the lake with a plunk. Kate lowered her hands and lifted up the glasses for him to pour the liquid into.

He smiled and shook his head as he poured. "Never will be able to figure you out."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I've seen you volunteer to carry a gun into the jungle to chase down a deranged psychopath, and then stand there and watch him get pumped full 'a holes without even' blinkin.' But somebody pops a champagne cork, and you flinch like a damn cannon's gettin' shot off."

She smiled, nodding a little. "What can I say? I'm complicated."

"I'll drink to that," he said, raising his glass. They clinked them together and then brought them to their lips.

"It's good," Kate said reassuringly. "Even if it is cheap."

He gave her an appreciative smile.

After a few more glasses, Kate said slowly, as if she'd just thought of the fact, "You know...it's almost October."

"And?"

"And...the weather'll be changing. This is probably one of the last warm nights we'll have."

"So what do you propose we do with it?" he asked mischievously.

"Well...we could go swimming."

He seemed to consider this possibility.

"All right, sassafras. Let's say we did decide to go swimming. What were you plannin' to wear?"

"Nothing?" she said, as if it were a question, not a response.

"Good answer," he said, raising his eyebrows and smiling. "Matter of fact, a dip doesn't sound half bad right now."

Kate stood up, and with a few easy, fluid motions, removed all of her clothes within seconds. He watched, entranced. Even the movement by which she unhooked her bra and flung it to the ground was strangely graceful.

Then, to negate all the grace with which she had just rendered him spellbound, she jumped into the water like a ten-year-old boy, feet first, the same way she had at the waterfall on the island. A huge splash soared out behind her, drenching Sawyer.

"God damn, girl!" he called as she swam out from the dock. "Didn't anybody ever teach you how to dive?"

"Nope," she said with a smile. "And nobody's going to either, so don't get any ideas." She took a deep breath and disappeared under the water.

He peeled off his own clothes and managed to dive in just before she surfaced. She looked around for him, confused and nervous.

"Sawyer?"

Then she gasped in shock as his hands gripped her around the waist and pulled her back down under the water.

She came back to the surface, sputtering and annoyed. She punched him on the shoulder, hard enough to let him know that she meant business. "Don't do that to me! That isn't funny!" She started to swim away, but he caught her and pulled her back, kissing her. She relented despite her intentions and kissed him back.

Pulling away a little, she looked at him critically in the faint light. "Have I ever told you that I don't really like you all that much?"

"Baby, you've made that clear since the first second we met," he said with a grin. "Thank God we don't let a little thing like that get in our way, huh?"

She laughed and pushed away from him, swimming out farther into the lake. He sent a splash after her.

After a few seconds, he called out. "This remind you of anything?"

"Yeah," she said wistfully, coming back toward him. "No dead bodies in this one, though, right?

"Not that I know of." He pretended to think for a second. "Imagine the alligators would've eaten 'em all."

"What?" she asked, looking at him like he was crazy.

"Alligators," he repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and he was surprised she'd even asked.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"Haven't you ever seen that movie where those alligators got set loose in that lake in Maine?"

"Yeah," she said skeptically.

"Well..." he went on. "It was a true story. 'Cept it didn't happen in Maine...Happened right here, in Tennessee."

"You're so full of shit, Sawyer." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious!" he said, as if he'd been offended. "Was on the national news for a month."

She ignored him, but he could tell she was vaguely considering the possibility, so he went on.

"Why do you think I hesitated when you asked about swimmin'? I had to weigh my options. Stay on shore and be safe, or go skinny dippin' with Freckles and risk getting eaten by a damn alligator. I guess you can see what won out."

Swimming all the way over to him, she put her arms around his neck. "It won't work," she said with a smile. "You know why? Because I'm a much better liar than you are."

"Ain't that the truth," he said, giving up the effort. She was right...it wouldn't be easy to bullshit her.

"But I bet you've gotten a lot of girls to believe that story, though, haven't you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then he said quietly, almost shyly, "Never brought any girls here before."

"You're kidding," she said, incredulous. "But it's such a perfect place!"

He leaned back a little bit so that he could see her eyes. "They weren't worth it," he whispered.

Bending her head slightly so that he couldn't see her emotion, she asked softly, "Will you dance with me?"

"What? Right now?"

"Yeah, right now. Did you think I meant tomorrow?"

"You hear some kinda music that I don't?"

"You don't have to have music to dance."

He looked at her doubtfully. "Never heard of anybody dancin' in the water."

Giving him a sly smile, she whispered, "There's a lot you can do in the water. Dance with me and I'll prove it to you."

Now she had his interest. "You got yourself a deal."

He kissed her again, deeply, and this time she didn't mind when he pulled her under the surface.