Title: Try Me
author: jmaria

tth100 prompt: Kit
Crossover fandom: Lost
Characters: Kit, Hurley, Sawyer, Jack
Prompt: 023. Pride

Word Count: 573
Rating: FR-15
Disclaimer: Joss owns Kit, J.J. Abrams owns Sawyer & Hurley
Summary: Just try me, and then you'll know what I'm capable of.
Mini-Series Set: Southern Comfort - 4

Try Me

Her stake/cross, or her stacros as she was calling it in her head, was nearly done. Not that she had to fear vamps attacking on the island. She hadn't heard anything from them, if there were even any on the island.

Monsters, polar bears, boars, and others - definitely. Vamps - not so sure. Hot guys that were completely wrong for you and sweet, nice, adorable guys who wanted to protect you - an overabundance.

Kit slipped the stacros in the back of her jeans and pushed herself out of the sand. Sure, she wasn't a slayer, but she was a Watcher. She could handle herself if need be.

There were whispers all over the beach that Claire'd returned. Lost her mind, but otherwise safe. Everyone was whispering about this Ethan guy who taken the pregnant girl.

To everyone else it was something creepy and frightening. Sadly for Kit, it was kinda run-of-the-mill, happens-all-the-time-where-I'm-from, pain in the ass normal. She was really getting sick of being a freak.

"Where are you going, Dude- ette?" A voice said from behind her.

"A walk, Hurley."

"A walk? With crazy people who've been on the island too long running around?"

"Yeah, Hurley."

"It isn't safe, Kit."

"I'll be okay, Hurley," Kit smiled. He really was a good guy, and the closest thing she had to a friend on the island. He kinda reminded her of Carlos and Dawn. "If you gotta know, I'm thinking about checkin' out the caves."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you want me to walk with you? You know that whole safety in numbers thing?"

"I'll be okay."

Hurley nodded, realizing she was brushing him off, but left anyway. Kit sighed. It sucked that she had to lie to him, but she had to do this on her own.

"What and deprive us here on the beach of your witty charm, Kitty-cat?" Sawyer retorted, never looking up from his 'borrowed' book.

Kit glared at him. He'd been a real bitch about the whole nickname thing. 'Course it didn't make him less appealing to her, and at least she was in his radar. She turned the glare into a grin.

"And leave all this, Southern Comfort? Why, I do declare, I just don't know what I'd do without your manly sarcasm to keep the ferocious polar bears at bay," Kit said in the worst Southern accent she could manage as she pretended to fan herself.

"You'll be cryin' when one rips you to shreds," Sawyer smirked. "And then who'll the big man have to pant over? Who'll really give him the time a day?"

Kit felt a flash of anger being to rise through her. Until she realized that was just what he wanted. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You know, Sawyer, I've met some really evil bastards in my time," she began.

"And let me guess, I'm at the top of your list?"

"Nope. You're not even in the top fifty. Somebody screwed you up, told you that you were evil. I've seen evil. You don't come close. You're like a big, fluffy puppy minus the sharp teeth. So more like an old fluffy puppy that's about to be put down."

She could see Jack in the distance talking to that Sayid guy and Mr. Locke. She shuddered visibly, until she remembered who she was standing in front of.

"You, I trust. It's the ones that have it all together that scare me."