1"Kate," said Jack, approaching her where she sat by her tent. "We need to talk."

"Do we?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Because the last time I said that to you, you walked away from me." Her voice was quiet but bitter with the memory.

"That was different," he said, grim-faced. Different only because you have double-standards for yourself, she thought, but said nothing.

Instead, she sighed and put aside the torn shirt she'd been patching. "Okay," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up at him half-annoyed, half-expectant. "What's up?"

"Hurley told me he saw you leaving Sawyer's tent at dawn this morning."

Kate laughed humorlessly. "Wait – that's what this is about?"

"Yeah, that's what this is about," said Jack, nodding seriously. His hands were planted firmly on his hips and he was frowning at her. There was a beat, and then he continued with knitted eyebrows and accusation in his tone. "Are you having sex with him, Kate?"

Kate shook her head, disbelieving, and laughed. "That is none of your business, Jack," she said. "I can't believe you really came here to ask me that."

"I think it is my business, Kate," he insisted. "I'm looking out for you. Do you really think you can trust him? And besides – he's slept with prostitutes, Kate. You could get any number of STDs from him, and we don't exactly have herpes cream lying around for when that happens. Or worse – you could get pregnant. Have you thought about that, Kate? You were there with Claire when she had her baby here. Did that look like fun to you? No medicines...? No anesthesia...? Are those really things you're willing to risk just because you've got an itch that needs scratching?"

"I cannot believe that you would say something like that to me," she said with quiet anger in her voice, clenching her jaw and speaking through gritted teeth. "I do not have any itches that – ."

"Oh, sure," said Jack, his voice full of sarcasm. "You're hanging out with him for the conversation, right?"

"He cares about me, Jack!"

"No, I care about you, Kate."

"Oh yeah?" she asked incredulously, standing up. "Is that why you just stood there and let a man hold a gun to my head?" Her voice was simultaneously accusing and wounded with the memory. "Is that why you ignored me when I tried to apologize for making a mistake? Is that why you've refused to speak to me until you felt threatened over some dumb jealousy issue with Sawyer? Is that why you're standing here calling me a whore just because it's him instead of you? Because you 'care' about me?"

"He's going to hurt you, Kate, one way or another," said Jack emphatically, shaking his head in disgust and turning and walking away from her. "Just don't come crying to me when he does."

Kate clenched her fist as he walked away and picked up the shirt again angrily, stabbing at it with her needle and wishing that it was Jack instead of cotton.

------

Night came quickly after hours spent taking out her physical aggression chopping wood and mashing up fruit. She had thought all day about what Jack had said to her and what she had said to him, and the words she'd spoken were ringing in her head: "He cares about me, Jack." She had said it without thinking, on instinct – and as if for the first time, she recognized the real truth in them.

Jack had accused her of spending time with Sawyer simply because of something physical between them, and she could not help but remember making the same argument herself only hours before. "It's just lust," she'd told Sawyer. She felt the sting of that comment now for herself.

It wasn't just lust. Jack might think that, and for a long time she had tried to think that herself, but when faced with the accusation from Jack, she realized how untrue it was. For the first time she was acknowledging to herself how torn she'd felt to know that he was leaving on the raft, how stricken she'd been to see him return barely clinging to life, how powerful was the relief that swept over her when she knew he was going to pull through. And for the first time she was admitting to herself that it all meant something. It meant everything.

And it was time to stop running.

------

"Is that you, Freckles?" Sawyer said to the silhouette standing at the entrance of his tent, sitting up in his sleeping bag.

"Yeah," she said, allowing herself to enter, "it's me. Were you expecting someone else?"

Sawyer laughed a little. "You never can tell around here," he said, lying back down and crossing his good arm behind his head, apparently willing to look over their tense argument of that morning, at least for the time being.

"Good point," she said, smiling a little, throwing down her back pack and bending to pull off her boots.

"Well make yourself at home," he said a bit mockingly at her actions, but his voice was teasing, not angry.

"You said I could come back when I was ready for the truth," she said, looking at him seriously.

"Yeah," he nodded, studying her face expectantly. "Gotta say though, I didn't expect you'd be back this soon."

"Me neither," she said with an ironic smile. "But you were right, Sawyer." She took off the button-up she was wearing over a tank and settled into the sleeping bag beside him, laying her head on his smooth bare chest.

"Right about what?" he asked, a little breathless with expectancy.

"It's not just lust."

There was a long moment in which neither of them said anything, simply lying there with the rise and fall of his chest and the slow sounds of jungle insects outside the tent. "Is that all?" he said finally, his voice quiet and hopeful.

"For now," she said quietly. "But it's a start, right?"

He smiled and removed his arm from behind his head, curling it around her body. "Yeah," he said. "It's a start."

They sat in silence for another long stretch, listening to each other's breathing. Then Kate spoke. "Hurley told Jack he saw me coming out of here this morning," she said. "He asked me if we're having sex."

"Well, whaddaya know," said Sawyer. "I didn't think it was physically possible, but looks like Hurley's mouth's bigger than his ass."

Kate laughed. "You're mean," she said, but her voice was teasing.

"You're the one laughing, Peaches," he pointed out.

"Okay, so I'm mean, too," she said, chuckling, then added, "He's jealous of you, you know. Jack, I mean."

"Yeah?" Sawyer said. "Who isn't?"

She laughed again and he smiled, relishing in the clear, cool sound of it. "I'm not jealous of you," she said slyly.

"Of course you ain't, Freckles," he said, a bit jokingly but with sincerity in his voice. "That's cause you and me's equals."

She smiled softly to herself. "Yeah," she said. "Equals." The word was so quiet that he could barely make it out, as if she said it only to herself, testing the way it felt on her lips.

He spoke again after a few long moments. "Don't know what Jack's got to be upset about," he said speculatively. "Looks like Ana-Lucia's keeping him pretty occupied." He contemplated this for another moment and said, "Sometimes I really wonder which one of us is manlier."

"Who?" asked Kate, intrigued. "You and Jack?"

"Fuck no," said Sawyer, laughing. "Ain't no question about that. I was talking 'bout me and Ana-Lucia."

And their laughter rang out into the clear warm night, wrapping around them and filling the tent with its sound.