Disclaimer: I don't own the series Lost or the original characters. All I own is my imagination and the plot.
A/N: I won't apologize for my lack of stories because I have been writing, and watching a lot of Lost. :) This story is a result of me watching the episode The Hunting Party. I've had a lot of different ideas, some taking place during the kidnapping, on the walk back to the beach, afterwards. I didn't get to write them all down, so I think that one or two more stories concerning that episode will follow, though I'm not entirely sure. I decided to go for a little more romantic twist this time, although the drama and slight angst is still present, and I hope you can appreciate this little mix-up. :)
Reaching
''I feel like I'm getting closer.''
The sky was a showy canvas of pink and purple hues that snaked crisscross through one and other, a handful of distant stars scattered across for decoration as it had projected itself above the tropical waters. She sat just at the edge, insignificant, as the waves rolled on, never stopping, her bare feet their unreachable goal. Her toes were dug deeply into the infinite grains of sand as she tried to seek out the only security blanket she could find on the island, the chipped black nail polish a reflection of the fragments of darkness that her past held. Her hands lay unstirred in her lap, her wrists still sore from the ropes that had been tied too tightly around them only an eve ago. She tried to keep her thoughts off of the feelings the memory brought up, an unwelcome rush of blood in its unsettling afterglow.
She gladly accepted the distraction he handed her, almost taking him for granted as he lowered himself down onto the patch of sand beside her. He waited a beat or two before letting his eyes stray over to her. He was being cautious, not wanting to scare her off. ''So, how you doin', Freckles?'' he asked, not knowing how else to voice his compassion.
She shook off her haunted look with a sudden upwards jerk of her face, her eyes temporarily locking on his before dropping down to her lap. She lifted up her shoulders enough to pull off a semi-shrug. ''Jack said my wrists should be fine.''
''I'm sure he did,'' he grumbled.
''I don't think he really cares, though,'' she said while lightly shaking her head. ''I mean he's a doctor, so he has to care on a doctor/patient level, but on a personal level...'' She shook her head again. ''He thinks it's my own fault.'' She intended on lifting her wrists for the effect, but had no energy to.
''You know I would've done the same thing.''
She heard his comment, but didn't acknowledge it. ''He's still mad at me.''
''Yeah, about that...'' He gave her a chance to jump in, but went on when she didn't, ''You ever gonna tell me about that?'' He tilted his head sideways to give himself a better look at her.
''No, but then again that doesn't matter, does it?'' She shot him a quick look. ''Besides, how do I know my secret's safe with you? You don't exactly have the best track record.''
A stingy comeback weighed down the tip of his tongue, but didn't quite make its way out. He held back for her sake.
''You'll hate me,'' she said, taking the edge off his mood for now. ''What?''
''If I tell you, you'll hate me, and I don't think I can handle that right now.''
''Hate's a big word, Kate.''
''I kissed Jack,'' she came clean, though he wished that she had kept it to herself. Knowing her secrets made it more complicated for him because of the feelings that came with them. He balled his hand into a fist and she saw it. ''You're mad. Why?''
He shook his head with a bitter smile. ''Don't pull that shit on me, honey.''
Tears spontaneously glazed over her eyes. ''Seems like everyone thinks I've been pulling something on them.'' Finally she moved one of her hands to wipe at her eyes, not wanting him to feel bad for her, though he did. A pang of something shot through him, the same thing he had felt when she had been tied up right across from him and had looked at him as if he were her only hope.
And in a way he was.
''Are you going to ignore me like Jack's doing?''
He didn't like the comparison, but didn't get into it. ''The kiss wasn't to his liking?'' he changed the subject.
''Not exactly.'' She turned her head to the side as if to shake it, a quiver running through her bottom lip. ''I ran. Away.''
Sawyer pressed his lips together, ready to say something, but found himself swallowing it back down. Damn her. Instead he forgave her, not questioning her reasons, but accepting that she was just as sick to her stomach as he was. ''I won't be going anywhere, Freckles,'' he assured her, his own kindness surprising him.
Her eyes carefully touched on his, not knowing what to make out of it, so she thanked him, her tone of voice more than grateful.
He heard and didn't know how to deal with the pleasure it gave him.
''If you hadn't been there,'' she tentatively began, her eyes backing down in fear of being too easy with her emotions, ''I probably would have been...'' She didn't finish. She didn't have to; nothing had happened, but it could have and it scared her. ''Jack, he,'' she tried to explain, but failing miserably with her words.
He could care less; he got it. ''Don't think that, sweetheart,'' he told her in an attentive manner. ''You know that ain't true.''
She bit her lip to keep the biting words from coming out, though he saw the tears that piled up in the corners of her eyes. She let them drip onto her face before sweeping them up and away with the back of her hand. ''I was scared,'' she admitted, placing her hands back in the dip in between her thighs and torso. ''I am scared.'' Her head bowed down in shame.
''You have a right to be scared, Freckles; you were held at gunpoint,'' he painfully reminded her, but continued on more gently, ''Even I'll admit to being a little shaken and stirred.''
Her eyes were intense as they turned on him. ''You were scared?''
He gave her a brief nod, countering her confession with one of his own. ''When I saw you...'' He swallowed. ''I would have shot him right there and then if he hadn't decided to bring along his entire posse.''
Her hand stirred in her lap and she brought it up only to place it on the sand beside her, her knuckles brushing against the side of his leg. His leg twitched in reaction to the accidental contact and he placed his hand behind hers, his fingers aching to touch, though he held back.
''Sawyer,'' she called, sounding like a siren to him. ''I don't want to be alone tonight.''
He opened his mouth and she stopped him. ''Don't.'' She looked at him through hooded eyes, her lashes long and thick above a set of seductive eyes, a beautiful contrast to the fair skin that surrounded them, though he liked her freckles the best. She looked kissable and it was harder than he had thought to hold back. ''Can you just not be a jerk for one night?''
He gave her a smile. ''As you wish, princess.'' His fingers lightly grazed hers before he pushed himself back on his feet. He started to walk, but stopped and turned when he didn't hear her follow. ''You coming or what?'' he asked, his head tilted upwards just a little and smiling slightly at the way she looked at him. She didn't get it.
He took the few steps back over to her and intimidatingly towered over her, though the image turned into a more pleasant one when he held out his hand for her to take and she did, without giving it too much thought. His fingers held onto hers for a second or two before bringing them up and locking them around her lower arm, thoughtfully having kept her tender wrists in mind.
His grip was firm as he pulled her up, holding on to her a little longer than he should, but she didn't mind. He was hypnotic. ''Stay with me tonight,'' was his request upon letting go.
She smiled and let him escort her to his shelter, his hands deep in his pockets until they reached the tent and he pushed a piece of canvas aside, gesturing for her to go in first.
Inside, she instantly twirled back around, wanting to keep him within her sight. It made her nervous to be on his territory, though she wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here. She didn't want to be alone. It took getting used to, she knew that, especially because she'd always been alone, and alone wouldn't cut it anymore. He had probably never been alone, sharing each night with another girl. He had expectations.
She nervously lifted up her eyes, her shoulders tense. She didn't know what to do, but he took care of it for her. He went through a pile of his clothing and pulled out a white dress shirt. It was wrinkled and she couldn't help but smile at it. She couldn't imagine him in anything other than faded jeans and unironed shirts; he didn't have the right look for anything else.
''Something funny?''
She shook her head and took the shirt from him. ''Turn around.''
A hint of a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, but he managed to keep it for himself as he did what she asked.
She started with the buttons of her own shirt, taking a little longer than she should have.
''Need any help?'' he startled her, making her pause her actions just for a second. She held her breath, expecting him to all of a sudden turn around, but he didn't and she shrugged off her shirt. ''No.'' She thought she heard him mutter 'stubborn' under his breath, but she wasn't sure. Putting on his dress shirt, she sat down on his 'bed' and quickly did up the buttons. When she told him he could turn back around, she was in the middle of taking off her jeans, his shirt covering more than enough, though it did nothing for her legs. She removed her feet from her jeans legs and lifted them up to brush off the sand. It was cute and didn't go unnoticed by him.
''What?'' she asked, placing her heels on the edge of the 'bed' while folding up her arms on top of her knees.
''Nothing I can say in front of a lady,'' he said with a shake of his head, hoping to rid himself of the dirty thoughts and images that crowded his head.
''That didn't stop you before,'' she noted. ''And I think we've both established by now that I'm not exactly a lady.''
''You might end up surprising yourself with that last one, Freckles.'' He smirked and added a wink for good measure.
A genuine smile lit up her face, one that was contagious as he caught it. He took off his shoes and went for his shirt, the small buttons a hassle for his large hands and hurt shoulder. He cursed under his breath and she was up instantly, feeling just guilty enough. She started at the top and worked her way down as if she had done it before. She gently pushed the fabric over his shoulder, even more careful when she helped him out of his shirt. ''I'm sorry,'' she voiced, purposely keeping her eyes downcast on the piece of fabric she now held in her hands.
Surprised at her out of the blue apology, he moved to face her. Her fingers toyed with the frayed fabric. ''I know you didn't get your revenge because of me.'' Wrinkles lined his forehead and his gaze on her hardened as she went on, ''I know he was the one who did that.'' She nodded at his shoulder. ''And I know how angry you are-''
''How did you know, about the shoulder? I ain't never told you about it.''
He was uncomfortable and her eyes jumped from his shoulder up to his face, trying to predetermine his reaction. ''He told me.''
''He talked to you?''
She could relate to the marvel in his voice, but she would lie if she said that she didn't understand the reason behind the seemingly harmless conversation her kidnapper had had with her. He knew, she didn't know how, but he had known everyone's secrets. She remembered the sudden surge of blood when he had confessed to shooting Sawyer and her final attempt to loosen the ropes around her wrists, temporarily numb to the pain as they had cut into her skin. She had been vulnerable.
One of her hands released its hold on his shirt, her fingers unconsciously going for her wrist. His eyes followed. ''You okay?'' She nodded, quickly pulling back her hand and busying it with folding up his shirt, neatly placing it on a lone airplane seat.
''He touch you?''
It brought up memories, but no recent ones, and she shook her head. ''No.'' She looked at him. ''Sawyer, I don't allow you to touch me, what makes you think a stranger stands a chance?''
He smirked. ''You let me touch you sometimes.''
''Yeah, well, you never held a gun to my head,'' she said too casually, turning her head away. She wasn't over it just yet.
He moved towards her, but she went back into her shell before he got close enough. She exchanged a glance with him afore sinking down on his 'bed'. She looked so out of place. Unsure of what was expected from her next, she lay down with her back to him. She closed her eyes and listened to him move around. He settled for a spot behind her, his chest pressing lightly against her back.
The bed wasn't big enough to share and she was cold, those were the excuses she made when she curled her body into his. It felt good to have him breathing in her neck and to lie there body to body.
''I could get used to this,'' he spelled out for her.
She didn't answer.
''Ah, so you're gonna play it like that, huh, Freckles?'' He chuckled and brought his lips down to her ear. ''Don't think I'm gonna give you whatever you want every time you come a running,'' he drawled huskily in her ear, causing her to shiver beside him. He felt it.
''I don't have anyone else,'' she said after waiting a beat.
''In that case,'' he began, his arm creeping across and over her waist so he could hold her, ''have whatever you want, sweetheart.''
Her pulse raced just a little and her breathing went up just a notch. Her body writhed against his in her heat of the moment restlessness and she heard his sharp intake of breath and felt the way his hips bucked against hers as an instinctive impulse. ''I only have so much control, Kate,'' he warned her.
She blushed, showing him the innocence of her actions and he calmed himself down, thinking of a cold shower, but tightening his grip on her nonetheless.
Her hand searched for his in the dark. She didn't want anything else.
Please review? (: I know that it might seem a little OOC and out there, but I try to alter the characters to my liking just a little in each of my stories. I'm curious to what you think of my writing and if you see any mistakes, let me know, okay? Thanks again.