Pressing Matters
by wahinetoa
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to ABC, Jeffrey Lieber and J.J. Abrams & Damon Lindelof. I credit Scouse for the inspiration.
Pairings: Sana, hints of Jate. implied Michael/Libby.
Rating: A little adult inuendo and possible language.
Spoilers: Post-What Kate Did. 2 - 4 weeks after.
AN: NZ hasn't got S2, so took information from transcripts and screencaps. Forgive any mistakes.
'A tornado of woman,' Jack grinned despite himself, as he observed the newest, if not most controversial member of the Flight815 survivor camp, Ana-Lucia, collect firewood at the far end of the beach.
Too far at the end, for his liking. That he would have ever given sanction to it, drew the young doctors usually ready smile and deep thoughts downward.
Since the unexpected return of the three missing rafters, with the tragic exception of the young Walt, Sawyers life-threatening condition, and the accidental killing of Shannon, it had changed the dynamics of the camp forever.
Within the jubilation of reunions, love found, friends returned and their group restored. It had also been a pall of love lost, grief, and anger, and placing of blame, a sense of unease had befallen the camp - at its center the enigmatic and quick to temper leader, Ana Lucia Cortez.
Despite the accounts of the harrowing atrocities and brutality suffered at the hands of the 'Others', or the compelling testimonies of Jin, Michael and Sawyer - who by all accounts had more than most to hold a grudge against the dark seething beauty - still spoke out in her defense. She'd shouldered enough burdens to qualify as an ally. However, notoriously blunt and often undiplomatic in her opinion, only served to endorse the sense of grievance within the camp. Regardless of her obvious remorse.
So damn close to sanctuary - so far from reaching it.
Her self imposed exile, had instantly brought a measure of calm to the already scolding uproar that had come on the heels of Shannon's accidental tragic death, news of Walts abduction and confirmation that they were not alone.
But it didn't sit well with him. If it came down to crimes committed on the island in unmitigated desperation, then perhaps Ana shouldn't be the only one driven into exile. His own inability to save Claire or Charlie from what Nathan had put them through, or his part with Sayid in Sawyers torture, perhaps even his mistakes with Kate, still stabbed at him. The realization that he had power over nothing, left him desperate and hollow, while still shouldering the greater weight of responsibility and blame for those still in his care. He saw that keenly in Ana, bonding him to her in a way that was immediate and compelling. Yet for all his influence, and argument, her fate lay with just one man.
Sayid.
In the weeks of mourning, the Iraqi man remembered how he'd found clemency with Sawyer after the torture, as much as with Shannon's love much later. In time, he went to Ana and granted her the same gift. The chance for a new start. Like the island seemed to be giving everyone else. It was not easy for him, or for most of his people to do, but from their own experinces on this island - no individual pedalstool remained untoppled.
A few days after, Ana moved to the end of the beach. By then, rumors of Sayids inevitable reprieve created a thaw between his people & the fascinating exleader. At least they tried to get closer, but always one to abhor sentimentality, she was as frost bitten and detached as Sawyer had been.
Yet it was to the southern charmer, that Jack, bitterly, attributed her surprising metamorphosis. His pigheaded perseverance and dimpled smile had eaten away at her resistance to be nearer the camp. Or perhaps to those that cared for her.
Michael had revealed that the both of them had a strange affinity edged by antagonism, since the moment they had laid eyes on each other. His banter and easy charm seemed to annoy her at first, but exasperation at his hustler come ons, spoke to the streetfighter in her. Her I-got-your-number smirk, matching the same smoldering arrogant prowess he tried to bully her with. Brought back the fight in her eyes.
In someway, Jack had hoped he would've been that reason. But even with their strange affiliation as leaders on this island of mystery, he had no right to try since he and Kate had gotten together.
His eyes traveled the distance to where Ana stooped to pick up more driftwood, shuffling the heavy load with one arm. Suddenly an eagerness to help her reach, once again for home, overwhelmed him. Jack took a shaky step forward, hand reaching out, his voice garnering the strength to call.
That sound, swallowed by anothers.
"Ain't she somethin'," Sawyer offered huskily, momentarily startling Jack from his thoughts, hands frozen in their act. The infuriating Lothario stood beside him, those relentless cobalt eyes settling, rather too intimately on Ana, for Jacks liking. "Rambina got spunk."
Yes, she did. But he wasn't about to discuss her redeeming qualities with the likes of him. Sawyer didn't know how to keep out of others personal space, especially when it came to captivating, strong willed hellion females like Ana was. It was the same look the blond got with Kate. That thought making Jacks blood simmer.
"I thought I told you to stay at the bunker till I'm done with your check up." Jack bit out crossly, folding his arms in front of his chest, scowling as Sawyer made his obvious attraction to Ana plain to see.
Sawyer just shrugged his shoulders, best he could given that one of them was in a sling, and no doubt giving him grief still. None of that seemed to matter as the Southerner preferred to watch Miss Cortez ramble up the beach with an arm full of driftwood, than answer Jacks query.
Irritation and some other emotion sluicing through Jacks hammering veins at the mans bloody gall. Ever since the camps resident hustler had awoken and remained in recovery, his daily routine had been to flirt with Kate, pick the lock to the food hold and inquire about the beautiful but tempestuous exiled leader. For some unknown reason, the blond had taken quite a shine to her. Which only irked Jack more.
At that moment she lifted her gaze to lock with Jacks, across the distance, sharing a respectful camaraderie. All at once caught by her strength and fire,awe turned to what could have been, and the change did not go unnoticed.
"Not your place anymore, Doc." Sawyer chided the brooding physician. Jack snapped from his state and narrowed his gaze at the man who pushed his buttons more than anyone on the island.
On the entire known earth.
"Don't know what you're talking about," he snapped contentiously. At the blond mans knowing smirk, Jack snatched up his medical bag and fumbled with the clasps, frantic to cover any emotion the hustler could use to his future advantage.
"You better be here for your checkup," he bit out finally, surprised by the futility in his own voice.
Sawyer chuckled. 'In a minute, Jacquline. Got me a pressing matter first.'
Before Jack could restrain him, warn him off or smack him square in the jaw, Sawyer swaggered across the brief distance to her. Those broad shoulders, chiseled features and the brooding steely blue eyes that could dismantle any female at a 100paces, was apparently intent on making his way into Ana-Lucias life whether she liked it or not. Damned if Jack knew what to do about it.
It didn't matter that Jack and Kate had chosen each other in the weeks that Sawyer had been missing in action, that their choices were still as strong even with his return.
Ana was not the kind of woman you easily forgot. But then..
Some things weren't meant to be.
He felt Kate's arms slide around him, her face pressing into his shoulder, against the nape of his neck.
"How are you?" she whispered softly. Speaking of much more than his health and well-being. How are you with them, was her real question.
He held her close, hoping she would feel the answer as well as hear it.
"Content now that you're in my arms," he replied honestly, leaning down to catch her lips quickly. "And you?"
The light in her eyes left no doubt as she reached up, her fingers against the buzz on his jaw, watching him sigh in contentment at the gesture.
"Exactly where I belong."
Jack smiled back, caught in her eyes and knew.
Some things were.
"Hey Rambina," he drawled happily, ""Yo' wanna hand with that, or do you want to get arms like a lumber jac-- er, mountie?"
Her head raised, eyes hooded and guarded. Despite her snort of amusement and the accompanying smile, it nearly broke Sawyers heart.
He'd been in two minds about the stubborn and feisty Chikita brave. He'd learned the importance of settling old scores, out in the old world, and where the acrimonious Miss Cortez was concerned, it was well overdue. Her indifference had nearly cost him his life. A man don't forget a thing like that. But if Sayid could do it, then what right did he have to hold a grudge over his shoulder? The indignity of being smacked down by a pertinent female, no less, in front of his companions. Male companions, who could rabbit on about the incident, to obviously an enraptured audience, once they got back. He had a reputation to uphold.
It didn't help none, that he found the witch more appealing 'cause of it.
He should have slapped her when he had the chance too. Deiu, he'd had enough dreams about throwing the hot-blooded woman across his lap and spanking the living heck out of her sumptuous behind, while he was stuck in recovery, to know how to go about it. Mind you, not all those spanking fantasties were strickly for her benefit. He'd dismissed them as a consequence of being stuck in perpetual abstinace on the island. But even after a few inventive ways of relieving the tension, those persistant images still brought a gut-grinding sensual assault, and he almost bit off his tongue to keep himself from groaning. What was with him and fierce, forbidden andhauntedwomen?
Sawyer swallowed the sudden need to confess such desires, struggling to rein in his emotions.
"What's it to you, cream puff?" she grinned back, oblivious to his state of mind, a slight growl to her query. Back straight, daring him to give any voice to what she considered too close to pity, suddenly showing in his eyes.
Such a challenge never fazed him, as he strode closer to her. Closer than anyone but Eko or Jack dared, no doubt with him, because she had taken a greater portion of blame for his condition. Still, the pugnacious rottweiler of woman, told him with the flash of her jet black eyes and severe expression just how close he could get - before her tried-and-mightily-tested Thors hammer right hook came into play.
"Nothin' much," Sawyer offered lightly, managed to wrangle a few bits of wood from her, giving the wayward female leader a smug grin, before turning her away from the good doctors scrutiny and back towards Anas camp site.
"Just like to know exactly whose muscled arms will be sliding around me tonight." he smirked, staring at her forearms pointedly, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Ana spun on her heel, to kick at him with the toe of her boot, but scuffed a hill of sand, jarring her precarious hold on the fire wood, which fell clatteringly to the sandy floor, making her jump back in surprise. Perhaps more so flustered by her sudden clumsiness.
Apparently, this amused the heck out of the smirking reprobate, who rolled his head back, and dared to laugh at her.
"Damn woman," he bit out in amusement, gaze settling on her, twinkling. "Didn' know I could get you so flustered!"
The arrogant so-and-so.
"Yeh? Well, I'm not the one getting all macho posessive in front of Jack." she smirked back, her I-got-yourr-number smirk wiping the smug look from his face.
Ah, so she noticed did she? His grin was back in place, quicker than she could fathom
"Had your eyes on me, did ya, Xena? " His victorious smile, making her snort derisively, before stooping to gather her bundle. "By all means, sister, take your sweet time. There's a lot here to take in."
Ana tried but failed to bite back the chuckle of mirth, escaping her lips. He fancied himself rotten, and she took increasing pleasure in knocking the hot-air from his sails.
"Not from where I'm looking." She gaped up at him, eyes glimmering in the golden light of sunset. He marvelled at the ease with which they bantered.
What had changed over the many weeks between them, neither could say. But something fundamental definitely had. If the sudden molten tension was anything to go by, he suspected that neither of them had prepared for it.
Uncomfortable with the change she read in his eyes, she shook herself mentally, and got back to her work. It would do no good to dwell on such things.
"You don't deserve hope, Ana." she told herself, harshly.Even as her heart stuttered in defense.
With burning cheeks, Sawyer knelt beside her, not sure himself of the inexplicable chemistry that had sprung up between them. Just knowing that Ana-Lucia Cortez was no consolation prize, and that someway he would show her that.
"Can do it myself, cowboy." she growled, a hint of annoyance at its core. More at herself than him, as she swatted his hand away in trying to help. Afraid of what lay behind those teasing, taunting smiles of his of late.
He eyed her skeptically, grin tolerant.
"So you reckon, cupcake." he smiled back, "But what's a day for a girl, without a lill' Tennessee beefcake?" Those lauded blue eyes sparkling at her in a way that she couldn't help but glare at him again, no real ire in it.
"Full of it, ain't ya," she simmered, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.
He merely winked in reply, satisfied with the lighter mood. In the comfortable silence, neither were really in a hurry to finish their task. Using the dusky ambers, paling of blues to indigo pools of evening, to mask their hesitant gathering of fallen branches, enjoying each others comradeship. Her senses drifted outward, across the dunes. Survival instinct, never off, she took in the few tallies on the beach. Bernard and his beloved Rose, talking to Charlie. Eko and the extraordinary Locke fella getting chummy. Sayid stood beside them, listening continually, his wary and suspicious gaze driven towards her, every now and then. Taking her measure with the intensity of a man who still considered her the paradox, the loose cannon. In his coal black orbs, the remaining question; "Why did you take from me, this; that I most loved?" A question so achingly, excruciatingly unanwsered after her miscarriage, she had to physically close her eyes to block it out. Somewhere Claires baby cried, Ana snapping her head up, seeking. Libby and Michael cradling the child as Claire and Hurley reset the cot in the shade.
Her distraction or the poignant look didn't go unnoticed. Sawyers gaze followed hers, frowning when it rested, mistakenly on the happy couple. The twist in his belly told him he wasn't completely immune to freckles as he'd liked to have believed. Not immune, but a hell of a lot wiser. He refused to linger on them a moment longer and returned his gaze to the abnormally silent woman beside him.
It pained him to think she still felt something for the doctor do-right. For reasons he wasn't ready to examine closely.
"Ain't yo' true love, cupcake."
His husky drawl brought Ana back from pained memories. She bit down on her lip, an interesting fragile habit that he'd honest to God didn't think she had. Vulnerable, was not a word to describe the solemn femme fatale.
Mysterious. Intriguing. Infuriating. Mad as a bleedin' hatter.
Out from under the tyranny of the 'others', had slowly erased the sole borne weight of leadership, leaving the shell of the woman who had become so alone, she had thrown herself from even possibility of being rescued. The ache of its familiarizes acutely felt by him, arousing his protective nature.
"I guess not." she offered after a time, not wanting to reveal what truly lay behind the look he had attributed to Jack. Noted the melancholy in his own manner, since returning. Knew why. "An' yours?"
Sawyer looked one final time towards the brunette, Happier and more content than he'd ever seen her. before shifting his gaze to the dark eyed temptress beside him. "Gone to better."
He looked away, pained by his own admission. Scuffed the sand with the toe of his boot. "Apparently."
He had often relied on his guileless boyish grin for effect, but this close to him now, she could see it didn't line up with the jaded look in his eyes. A soft smile touched her lips, understood too well their depth and meaning.
"I wouldn't go an' say all that, cowboy."
His gaze narrowed on her, looking for any sign of pity or mocking insincerity, and finding nothing but a sure understanding and a hint of something more. Something that drove a spark through him, and he felt himself smiling back. Intrigued. Delighted.
"That so?" he smirked, head tilting fetchingly. "Wanna list the reasons, or should I just show you mine?"
She looked at him, biting back her amusement. "Be a small list."
Sawyer angled his powerful body closer, tempting fate. "Nothing about me, chica," he murmured cockily, "Is ever 'small'"
The unusual awkwardness returned. Settling an ache in her belly, warning her how close she had let him in.
"The list," she clarified, pretended indifference. "Just got smaller."
He raised his eyebrow, a touch of male indignance creasing his brow, his breath fanning hot and intimate against her cheek, along her sable jaw. "How small?"
The male sexuality of him subsided, replaced by his demand. She sighed, grateful. "One remaining trait."
He cocked an eyebrow in silent query. When it reaped a wickedly drawn out silence, he narrowed his smug sapphire bright gaze laughing. As if he could read the answer. And frankly, knew it all along.
"You better know it, sister!"
Her disbelieving bark of laughter, at this, managed to draw curious looks from the scattered few on the beach.
He was a little shocked himself. Did she even know the effect she had on him? The hellion that was embedded in his reluctant memory, wasn't the creature before him. Her face warms, opens out like a soft bronze flower, calls to the lion-fierce protectiveness in him.
Along with other male instincts he'd better curb. His sake as well as hers.
Jacks voice interrupted whatever else he wanted to brag about, confess. Sawyers gaze shrunk in on the doctor, sharing a rival stare. Behind him, Kate was making her way down the beach with Sun, no doubt on their way to the gardens. Jack stood, glaring at them - or more likely him, in particular - mouth grim, hands splayed on his hips.
Sawyer groaned. His check up.
"Doc has the worst timing I know of," he sourly muttered, before brushing off his jeans and cautiously levered himself off the sand with his good arm, and reached down awaiting her hand.
"Tell you what, chica. You wake me up Manana and we can 'revise' that list o'yours." he grinned at her as she hauled herself, and her load up beside him, refusing his hand. More out of independence than a slight.
"I'll bring the beer -- you be the chippy." he concluded.
Last thing she needed was the Tennesse cowboy continuing this strange conversation. But the look he gave her left her breathless, wired. It told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to give up on her. Her heart thrummed. She swallowed hard.
"Whatever." Dammit. She sounded breathless. He smiled triumphantly, telling her all she needed to know.
He was challenging more than just her ability as a sparring partner - and that scared her more than she would admit.
Sawyer read it in her eyes, conceding for now. With no more than a sweeping gentlemanly bow, he was off towards the glowering doctor and the curious crew.
She could just imagine the dimpled grin on his face, deriding their questioning gazes with the trademark swagger.
Her appreciative chuckle followed him down the beach. Head tilted, as her gaze slid from the back of his head, that wind tussled mane of blond, across his granite heavy shoulders, down that straight back and settled contentedly a bit lower. Faded, scratched and sand paintedblue denim gloriously hugging the coiled tight muscles beneath. Pressing, hardand full.
Voluptuous lips quirked of their own accord, mentally adding to the cowboys list.
"Might just make that two."
The End