Sawyer's eyes were hardened with a mixture of anger and surprise at seeing Kate in his dwelling. How had she gathered the gall to come into his tent? She was still leaning over him, her small wrist clenched tightly, angrily, in his large, rough fist, "So, Freckles," he began, glaring poisonously at her.
"I was just..." Kate stammered, locking eyes with him as she returned his venomous stare, "I was just coming to tell you that..." she paused, searching her mind for something she could say. Any excuse. But it had to be a good one, she thought fervently, something that would hurt him. Something that would make his insides burn, just like hers did when he outwardly insulted her for his own sport. She caught her breath as she finally found something, "I was just coming to tell you that Jack and I are... serious," she took a deep breath and apprehensively watched his face.
His grip on her wrist loosened, and his eyes blazed, but he relaxed his brows and managed a faux-careless laugh, "yeah, I knew you and the doctor were good friends," he said, sitting up on the seat, "but you wanna tell me why you came in here whisperin', 'I'm sorry'?" He asked, mocking her voice in a childish effort to get back at her for the Jack comment, "wouldn't be 'cause you're feelin' guilty now, would it?"
Kate gnawed her lip and looked down, "I wasn't saying sorry," she lied flatly, looking up at him again, holding his stare, "you must have been dreaming. I was just coming in to tell you that I don't need your flirting anymore," she said boldly, knowing with each word she was further damning herself, "I have someone who cares about me now," she whispered, basking in the small shaking of his jaw at this last injury. Suddenly, though, Sawyer's face melted into a smile, "Yeah, Freckles, me too," he leered, "but you wouldn't know about that."
Kate narrowed her eyes aggressively, determined to show him she didn't care. She wouldn't care. "I'm going to go find Jack," she said tossing her head, rising from her position beside him, brushing sand delicately off her jeans, "we have things to do," she said gleefully enjoying the pain she knew she must be inflicting. He hid it, though, hid it well, and stood, too, towering over her.
"Prove it," he said, aggressively thrusting his chin out at her, seeming to think he had trumped her attack.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, eyes bright with innocence, "prove what?"
"Prove that you and the doctor are rea--"
"Oh, okay!" Kate answered cheerfully, grinning, "not a problem at all!"
Sawyer glared, he hadn't expected that in the least, she really would go to any extent to anger him, wouldn't she? He wondered why she was doing that. There was some thrill in their little games, but it grew tiring, he thought, with resignation as she turned on her heel to leave the tent. He watched her go, hands helpless at his sides, but suddenly another idea popped into his head. In a flash, he had reached out and grabbed her arm again.
Kate gasped, "Let go! What are you doing?" She exclaimed incredulously, eyes flashing with anger.
"You can't prove anything," he smirked, clutching her arm still.
She couldn't resist another stab, "You have no idea," she whispered, "what I can and can't do."
"Yeah, I know you, Kate, I know how you are," he replied, smiling at his own repeated taunts, "I know you wouldn't hurt your pride."
Kate laughed, as she always did when she felt most vulnerable, "Don't talk to me about pride, Sawyer, you don't know me, not at all," the words spilled from her mouth like fevered breaths, only halfway through her thought train did she realize that she, every moment, was destroying any chance of fixing what she had broken. Narrowing her eyes again, trying to hide the near welling of tears in them, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and lifted the flap of the tent resolutely.
"One more thing, sweetheart," he said, flashing her a mocking grin as she left the tent, "You're a horrible liar."
Without turning back for a final look at him, she hurried away. Outside, the sun had fully risen above the horizon, and the salt-tainted air on the beach was beginning to warm. Kate was relieved to be away from Sawyer, though not particularly thrilled about how angry he must have gotten by now. She began to walk forward, scanning the beach for Jack. She could feel Sawyer's eyes on her, and was looking desperately for a way to get them off her. With another rush of relief and defiance, she spotted the doctor, heading to check on this or that, walking with his leisurely stride.
With one quick glance over her shoulder, she could see Sawyer staring her down, leaning against his tent, just as he had leaned against the bedpost in the hatch weeks ago, his stance envious and hateful. Perfect. She dashed nimbly after Jack, catching up with him just before he could pass behind a tree. They were still in Sawyer's line of view, she could still feel his eyes.
"Hey Jack," she grinned breathlessly at him.
"Hey Kate," he said, blinking slowly at her, "you alright?"
"Yeah, great," she said, eyes beaming at him in an overacted show of affection. Bumping her shoulder into his, she grasped his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and squeezing his hand affectionately. She realized with a pang that she didn't have a problem with this.
"Wh-" Jack laughed, "Kate, what are you doing?"
"Nothing," she said, laying her head on his shoulder, not caring for his bewildered expression.
He blinked slowly at her again, "are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, lifting a hand to her forehead.
"Yep, perfect," she answered, glowing.
Abruptly, she unlatched their fingers, "Hey, I gotta go," she said brightly, "catch you later, okay?" In an instant, she found herself dashing away from him, not exactly back towards Sawyer, but in the general direction. She giggled to herself. Won that round. She was amazed at how she was suppressing her unhappiest thoughts, her most sadistic needs satisfied in her torturing of the man who was now glaring at her with angry eyes. Jealous, wasn't he?
"Bye Kate," Jack could be heard, calling after her, his voice caught and broken on the wind. Kate plopped blissfully down on the sand several yards away from Sawyer's tent, laughing to herself. She didn't dare look over her shoulder to meet his eyes, she didn't want to see them. Mindlessly, she revelled in her new victory, wondering, preoccupied, what he must be thinking right now.
Still leaning against one of the posts supporting the tent, arms crossed, Sawyer was, indeed, scowling. He knew she wouldn't turn around and see him. He wasn't scowling at her, he was scowling at himself. Why'd he gone and scared her off like that? Now she would hate him for sure. He knew she was kidding about the doctor, probably to piss him off, but now he'd never make it up to her. They'd messed up a lot, the things they'd done and said, and he just kept diggin' his grave deeper, and now he'd thrown himself in. He couldn't fix anything right.
Feeling like a tremendous failure, he ran a hand frustratedly through his hair. He was tired of the competition. The one person he cared about couldn't stand to be around him.
"Fucked that one up," he muttered to himself. He wanted to sit beside her, he wanted to hold her, to say sorry. He wanted to kiss her, to return the love she had given him so selflessly. She despised him, he realized, hurt by his own rudeness around her. He couldn't ever hold her again. He was never going to get past this. Yet all the while, he continued to scowl. Struggling to accept what he was thinking, he realized how difficult it was to do so for himself, much less her. Nobody thought of him as a lover-boy. He wasn't gonna up and make them think he'd gone all... soft.
He gazed at her, longingly, but still scowling, now just in case she turned and saw him. He couldn't help himself, he had to get back at her for Jack, "Hey darlin'" he called out, "you can't act, either."
"Had you fooled, didn't I?" she called back, unmoving.
Ouch. She sounded cold, steely, angry. Sighing, he ignored her and ducked back into his tent.
Kate giggled, he couldn't even think of anything to say. She peeked over her shoulder to find that he was gone. But where? Most likely back into his tent, she decided, feigning indifference. She strode past his tent, without giving it so much as a second glance. Back in the hatch, she thought, that first week after he'd recovered, after their initial spat, she wouldn't have been able to maintain such an uncaring facade.
"Hey... I'm sorry I... I stormed out like that yesterday," Kate said, nervously clacking her teeth as she reentered the bunk bed-area of the Hatch.
Sawyer was sitting up in his bed, shirtless, she noted. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked weary, which was probably for the better, he was generally more agreeable if he was tired or in pain. "Mmmmh," he acknowledged, reaching a well-muscled arm backward to massage his shoulder.
A maternal instinct washed over Kate, "here," she said gently, walking over to the bed and slinking behind him on the pillows, "I'll do it."
Gratefully, he dropped his arm and closed his eyes as her slender, pale hand kneaded his tense shoulder muscles. He groaned feebly, "that's nice," he said, sounding as if he was ready to pass out.
"You okay?" Kate asked, worriedly peeking over his shoulder at his face, he did look a little pale.
"Yeah... I'm okay," he answered gruffly, eyes rolling back as she continued to stroke his back and massage his shoulders, "guess this is why the doctor wants me to stay down here," he said faintly, swaying slightly.
"Sawyer...?" Kate said, pausing cautiously, "need to lay down?"
"I'm... oka--" His voice cut out, a bit dramatically, Kate had to notice, as he fell back, head falling against her, and landing eventually in her lap.
"Sawyer?" She asked, touching his forehead tentatively with her fingertips. He felt fine. Weird. She put her palm and then the back of her hand flat on his forehead, still fine. "Sawyer?" She repeated his name, panicking now, "I'll get Jack."
"No," he said, quite clearly, fully awake, yet with his eyes still closed.
Kate paused, "do you need something? There's medicine in the--"
"A kiss," Sawyer said simply, opening his eyes just a bit.
Kate could see an obvious sparkle of mischief in them. She sighed in exasperation. Again? He was fine, he had faked all of this, the tiredness, the back ache, and she had bought into it, "I can't believe you," she said, but not in disgust this time, with laughter in her eyes and teasing at the corners of her mouth. Craning her neck, she planted a soft, chaste kiss on his forehead. His eyes followed her as she withdrew, "there."
"Naw, Freckles," he said, feeling cheated, "you did that all wrong." Rolling her over from under his head, next to him, he flicked her long, dark hair out of her face, sliding a hand behind her graceful neck. Drawing her face to his, he drank of her exhaled breaths, looking into her clear green eyes. Before he could call the shots of the situation any further, she had moved to him and pressed her lips to his. Caressing the roof of his mouth with her tongue, she put her arms around him, drinking in the scent of his cologne. She almost giggled at the memory of his saying he wore none.
Breaking away from him, she looked down, embarrassed, "I'm sorry," she murmured.
"You think I minded, Freckles?" He asked in the hallmark southern drawl.
She grinned, unwinding her arm from around his waist to stroke his hair.
Muttering darkly, Sawyer trudged over the thick, thorny, vine-matted grounds of the jungle. Why had she gone off the path, anyway? And why the hell was he followin' her? Wasn't gonna gain anything from it. Maybe his 'sensitive side' still wanted to say sorry. He almost laughed at himself, don't kid yourself , he thought, you don't have a sensitive side. Missing a step, he tripped over a root, sending his lanky body sailing downward, crashing to the ground with a thud.
A triumphant chuckle came from several yards ahead of him, "Smooth, Sawyer, smooth."
Cursing under his breath, Sawyer raised himself, gathering his bearings, and plucking burs from himself, "very funny. Ha ha." He said sarcastically, surprised Kate had known he was following her.
"So, stalking me now?" She asked, laughter tickling her throat.
"Stalkin' you? Sweetheart I'm just tryin' to find some fruit. Man's gotta eat," he answered.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess you do," she chuckled, walking onward, leaving him alone to tear the burs from his shirt.
"So what brings you to this neck of the jungle?" He called after her, wondering why she had come this far off the path.
"Just testing a theory," she said dryly.
"Which is?" He asked, sounding bored, though he knew she could see right through him.
"Seeing who'll follow me," she said, calmly and blankly again, continuing to walk.
"Oh... the doctor." He said, stung, "Thought so."
There it was, right in front of her, a way to begin the healing. To fix this, to fix what she'd done. Just a few words, and Kate could have him again. No more angry games, just the way they had been. She rolled her eyes... the way they had been? Which meant what? Sarcastic games as opposed to angry games? What the hell, she thought, deciding to take a chance, "Who says I want Jack following me?"