-1Title: Absolution
Author: Anita-Louise
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Kate
Summary: Kate kept her hand in her pocket, clinging to the tiny model plane, a constant reminder of a past she'd rather forget.
Thanks: To Sarah for her amazing beta.
She stirred slightly when she felt the cool waves come and lap at her toes, which curled beneath her reflexively. Kate kept her hand in her pocket, clinging to the tiny model plane, a constant reminder of a past she'd rather forget. It was her touchstone, her last tenuous connection to Tom and the life she knew she could never quite leave behind.
The beach was nearly deserted. All the other survivors had congregated at the caves to hear about Michael's decision to enter the jungle and look for Walt. Even Sawyer had made the effort to drag himself up to the damp caves, though why she didn't know. It wasn't as if it was of any personal gain for him. The dank and claustrophobic meeting sounded like more than she could bear, so she had lingered behind, pretending to search for something in her tent, giving a non-committal murmur when Charlie had asked her if she was coming. Judging by the looks that some of the survivors persisted in giving her, they hadn't forgotten the revelation of her past that Sawyer had helpfully given. In actual fact, they were probably as relieved not to have her in their midst as she was not to be there.
She looked back out over the ocean and stared into the mournful depths, half hoping to spy a ship on the horizon, not caring as to the repercussions of this and that a rescue meant she would be unlikely to evade the long arm of the law this time. Even prison would be better than this hell in paradise. Being on the island had numbed her; polar bears on a tropical island, Dharma and the mystery of the hatch, Danielle and Desmond, The Others, the constant animosity of Jack and Sawyer and the looks in both of their eyes when they looked down on her… She felt no remorse at playing Sawyer - she knew the power of the bat of an eyelash or the hint of a smile. It was a game of penny-ante heartache that she played to win. Sawyer understood that. But Jack. Jack took everything so seriously. She hated to hurt him, but he just kept coming back for more.
She thought of Sawyer, and her heart constricted. She knew that he felt something intense for her, be it love or something else, but couldn't bring herself to return the sentiment. As she had told him in the hatch, he reminded her of Wayne and of something else, something that disgusted and horrified her. True, she felt attraction to the man, (what red-blooded woman wouldn't?) but he would always represent running: running from the law, running from her past, and running from herself. He shared a criminal connection to her, and his supposed knowledge about her past scared her. What else did he know?
Her thoughts then drifted to Jack, and a smile crossed her lips. Sweet, noble Jack. Again, there was attraction like with Sawyer, but her pulse didn't race when she was near the southerner. When he touched her, her heart didn't skip a beat. Yes, Jack had the ability to make her as Sawyer had wonderfully put, "weak at the loins."And although she wasn't a romantic at heart, secretly she loved it. She hadn't felt giddy and breathless in years, not since Tom had married. She missed the feeling of it, missed being allowed to feel like a woman rather than a dangerous convict.
She thought back to their kiss that had happened barely two days ago, and her tentative smile grew wider. The memory of Jack's eager lips upon hers'made her pulse flutter.
She hadn't meant to run away. Honestly, she hadn't meant to kiss him in the first place. But the tenderness in his eyes and the security she felt when he took her in his arms had impelled her to act. Then, when his lips touched hers so urgently, for a moment, it was more than a game. For a moment, she was just a woman, limp and helpless in a man's strong embrace. That helplessness had frightened her. It was vulnerability, not Jack from which she fled. Whether it had been the right course or not, she didn't know. Her mind told her one thing and her heart told her another.
Jack reminded her of Tom in many ways. It was probably as much a reason she was attracted to him as it was a reason she'd run from him. True, they were both doctors and kind men, but it ran deeper than that. They both viewed the world in black and white with no grey shades in between: Tom wouldn't accept her as anything but Katie the girl that he grew up with, and though Jack wanted to, he couldn't see past the fact that she was a criminal, despite him trying profusely to understand why she was the way that she was.
She wondered if he, like Sawyer, had guessed to what she had done. She wondered if he listened to the island gossip, and the mumbled theories about her transgression. She wondered if he would look at her differently if he ever found out. Tom had always been able to guess what she was feeling or thinking - mostly an annoyance when she was younger, but an endearing trait nonetheless.
She was drawn to men like Jack and Tom; she liked feeling protected and loved. And although she was sure Sawyer could show a girl a good time, he wouldn't ever be like her father -the real one - the scale that she subconsciously graded men upon.
Kate tenderly caressed the plane still in her pocket. Carefully, she took it out and brought it close to her face. Why was she so desperate to hold onto such a tiny, insignificant object? Why was she so desperate to hold onto the past when she could obviously have a future, in the one place in the world that she could be 'free'. The plane, that damn plane, symbolized everything that she wanted to be. And it also symbolized everything that she never could be, regardless of what Jack (and Tom for that matter) had thought.
The past or the future. Tom or Jack.
In one hand she held Tom, and in the other - Jack, his fingers curling gently around hers, enticing her palm with languorous strokes. She leaned into him weakly, his appearance sudden, but not unexpected.
"Hey."
"Hey." she echoed.