Title: Southern Comfort
author: jmaria

tth100 prompt: Kit
Crossover fandom: Lost
Characters: Kit, Sawyer, Hurley
Prompt: 047. Fantasies

Word Count:
Rating: FR-15
Disclaimer: Joss owns Kit, J.J. Abrams owns Sawyer
Summary: Kit knows she shouldn't let him bother her, plus he ignores her half the time anyway.
Set: early season one

Southern Comfort

Kit Holburn never thought she'd survive a plane crash, end up on virtual paradise, be harrowed by people eating monsters, or find out that the one guy she'd been scoping out since the crash had shot a polar bear (and a few other things). A polar bear on a tropical island, who'da thought it? She dug her toes in the sand and sat back, not watching Sawyer. No, not at all. She wasn't staring.

He was older than her, but what did that matter? They were on Mystery Island, for god's sake! He didn't know she existed, and he was cocky, and arrogant, and so very pretty. He had the tendency to nick-name people, Kate was Freckles, and that Shannon girl was Sticks. He didn't give her one, so she gave him one.

Not that she'd ever have the guts to say it to his face. She shouldn't be attracted to him, he wasn't a nice guy and he went out of his way to be hated by everyone. And yet, she still wanted him. Maybe it was like what Faith said about slaying. Surviving the death, beating it back made you want to feel alive, made you hungry for life. Made her want to forcibly hurl him back into the sand and -

"Hey, you, can I ask you a few questions?"

Kit shook, blushing insanely. She blinked and found herself staring up at the big guy named Hurley. Sure she was still blushing, Kit nodded.

"Cool, I'm taking a census of everybody who was on the flight, so I kinda need your name and address."

"Kit, Kit Holburn. Um, I was moving back to L.A. after living in Sydney for the last few months with a friend, so no address. Last place I lived at for more than a few months was 945 Martin road, Sunnydale, California."

"Thanks, most people were kinda uptight about giving out their info," Hurley grinned at her.

"Yeah, didn't care," Kit shrugged, forcing herself to pay attention to Hurley and then later she could imagine ravaging Sawyer.

"Dude, he's not a nice guy," Hurley said suddenly.

"What?"

"Him, he's not a nice guy. He's kinda an asshole, incase you missed the memo," Hurley nodded in Sawyer's direction.

"Yeah, got the memo, didn't care. Girl can have her fantasies, can't she?" Kit said a bit more defensively than she normally would. "Sorry, too much sun, I'm gonna go see if there's anything I can help with."

"Cool," Hurley replied, heading off in the opposite direction.

Kit pushed herself out of the sand and headed over toward a big group of people. She didn't see the guy in front of her until it was too late. She collided heavily with him, and held onto his shirt so she wouldn't fall.

"I was walking here," Kit cried, glancing up at him. Her mouth went dry when she noticed who it was.

"So was I, till you walked into me, girlie," Sawyer snapped.

"Take a pill, Southern Comfort. You'll live longer if you do," Kit retorted, forcing herself to walk around and away from him as fast as she could, fairly sure her whole body was shaking.

"Southern Comfort?" Sawyer muttered to himself.

"It's a lot better than 'miserable bastard', now isn't it?" Kate replied, stepping up beside him.

"Who asked you, Freckles?"