Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, and some Others. Just borrowing for fun. Kate wrestles with a positive memory of her true father as she has a close encounter with Jack in a net.

Eskimo Kisses
By Mystic
April 13th 2006
Wayne was standing out on the front porch when she got home from school and it made her steps slow slightly as she watched him raise a soda to his lips. Her mother asked him to stop drinking so early. Kate knew it'd last a couple days before he'd go back to the booze, it was just who he was. She smiled, weakly, and shifted her backpack over her shoulders as she approached.

"Hey Wayne," she said, her hand coming up into a small wave before dropping back down. "What're you doing home so early?"

He grinned, that handsome grin that tricked her into thinking he was halfway decent. "Got out early, think I got a fever," he bent down as her feet found the first step. "Wanna feel?"

Kate bit her bottom lip, stared down at the Hello Kitty on her shoelaces a second before raising her hand to his forehead. "You feel hot," she informed him, her hand coming away quickly.

"What's your momma do for you when you don't feel good?"

Shrugging, Kate walked past him and went into the kitchen, pulling a step stool from a corner and climbing up, reaching to open a high cabinet. "Chicken soup and bed rest," she said, straining to reach the can with the red and white Campbell's label.

His hands slipped underneath her arms, pulling her off the stool the last few inches. She gripped the can tightly as he lowered her to the ground and went to sit on the couch. Kate took a long breath. She knew how to find the can opener, how to pry the lid off and pour the contents into a pot. She knew how to make her own soup 'cause her mom was always too tired to.

She scooped a good amount into a bowl and stepped quietly into the living room finding Wayne how she expected to, his eyes closed and his mouth open. She touched his leg with her shoe, careful not to spill the bowl in her hands. He jerked, his eyes slowly opening and a smile grew on his lips as he took the bowl from her.

"Careful, it's hot," she warned, standing there, not quite knowing what to do. "You really are sick," she told him suddenly, watching him sip the liquid out of the large spoon she'd gotten for him.

"Oh yeah," he said softly, "Why's that?"

She shrugged. "You've never sat in the living room this long without the television on."

He put the bowl down on the coffee table. "This is kinda nice."

"What?" Kate asked quickly, her eyes moving from his hands to the bowl.

"Kinda like family, ain't it?" Wayne lowered his head, "All it needs are some Eskimo kisses," he laughed. Kate wrinkled her nose and looked away. Wayne gasped, slightly surprised. "Awe, Katie, I thought we were getting along here."

"I don't need kisses," she spat.

"Do you even know what an Eskimo kiss is?" Wayne asked, sounding amused. When Kate shook her head, he sighed. "Come here, girl," he commanded and she hesitated a moment before going towards his arms, which he'd stretched out slightly to her, leading her to a spot between his legs. He lifted her, sitting her on his left thigh and she stared at the ground. "Eskimo kisses," he started, his hand coming up to touch her chin, to turn her head up towards him. "Are like this."

She held her breath and closed her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn't what she expected. She felt his nose brush hers gently several times before he laughed at her.

"That's all," he told her, something like disappointment in his voice.

Kate opened her eyes, confused, and stared at him. "That's all?" she asked, something in her brightening. "Those aren't bad," she breathed.

Wayne shook his head. "Why would they be?"

She wasn't quite sure why that memory hit her then, strung up ten feet in a tree, with Jack pressed tightly against her. It wasn't often she thought of the few good times she had with Wayne. When he wasn't drunk and being an ass. She felt Jack struggle against her, and she moved against him, trying to get away. She'd never been this confined. Her nose brushed his and she turned away, coming back again when his hand touched the bare skin at her side and their noses touched again.

Kate huffed the words 'Eskimo kisses', barely audible as she laughed and he laughed in return as they continued to struggle. They did what they did best – the playful banter, the nervous smiling and shifting – and it felt somewhat comfortable, despite the circumstances. She eased into him, letting her body mold to his, watching the way his eyes avoided hers.

He teased her, chuckling as she gripped his at chest with her right hand, watching him point the gun towards the rope. The net stopped swaying as he reached out and took a shot. Lucky shot, she thought to herself just before the net went limp and they flew down towards the ground.

She toppled onto him, feeling the breath leave him against her forehead. "Nice shot," she managed with a laugh, he laughed back. She moved, her body lying softly against his, and she stared into his eyes, watching him a moment before he lifted his head slightly, his nose brushing hers as she turned away and tried to get off of him. The net held her down, heavy against her back and she groaned, looking back to see his eyes had shifted away from her and to the net.

Moving slowly, they untangled themselves, staring back at the net when they were free, back down at the doll that lay still inside. "Somehow, I never thought you'd be into dolls," Jack joked, wiping his head with the back of his hand before reaching for his backpack to get some water.

Kate shrugged, watching him handle the dented plastic container with a frown. "Doll in the middle of the jungle. Kind of like a Polar Bear."

"Or a horse."

She blushed, her hands gripping the back pockets of her jeans. "So you heard about the horse."

Jack nodded, recapping the top of his water bottle carefully and pushing it back down into his backpack. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Managing a laugh, she told him, "What was I gonna say, 'Hey, Jack, I think I've gone nuts and am being stalked by a horse through the jungle,' you'd have thought I was crazy."

"So running from the hatch, leaving Sawyer on the ground, then kissing me and taking off, that was supposed to, um, be any saner?" Jack smirked, watched the way she reacted and she hated that he was right. He was always right. She turned away.

"We should get moving," she told him gently, her hands coming up to adjust the straps of her backpack on her shoulders.

"What was it you said, up in the net?"

"That you got a lucky shot," she told him, her eyes wandering about the jungle, taking in the darkening leaves, knowing rain was coming soon.

Jack shook his head. "No, I thought you say Eskimo kisses," he said, his hand coming up to touch her arm, to stop her because he knew the physical contact could. "What did you mean?"

She stepped up on tip toe, her nose brushing his and she smiled when he sucked in a breath of surprise. Kate took a step away from him, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down slowly as he swallowed, his eyes opening quickly to look at her, something dark there, longing. She frowned. He thought she was going to kiss him again. "In the net, we were kind of…"

"Eskimo kissing," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Kate nodded, turning her attention back to the jungle. "We should get moving, how far are we?"

Jack laughed shortly behind her. "Not too long," he said and she listened to his footsteps a while. "So, that something you used to do with your dad too?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," she frowned. "When I was little," she allowed herself to think of Wayne as her father for one split second because for that one split second in time he was, even if she didn't like it.

"Kind of like French kissing better," Jack sighed after a moment and she turned, throwing him a curious look as he stared at the ground. Kate smiled, letting her footsteps slow so they walked closer together. She glanced at him again, watched the smile that remained and she watched his eyes dart up to meet hers several times.

"Yeah," she agreed, her shoulder giving his a shove. "Me too."

Finis