Once again, thanks to everyone for their wonderful comments. I'm glad you all like this story so much.
jater - it's interesting you say "Jack's a drinker." That will be coming into play later. . . (at a very pivotal part.)
Without furthor ado -- here is Chapter Seven.
Oh, and Eight will be up very soon because I am so excited about it!
Chapter Seven
Kate could see herself in a car, panic evident on her face. She saw herself glancing to her right, and pleading with someone. "Please just get out!" But he wouldn't listen. He never listened to her when it came to things like this.
As she revved the engine, she could hear him speaking to her, but she couldn't quite make out exactly what he was saying. "Go easy on you. . . just tell them . . . truth, Katie." His words, when it came to this matter, always fell on deaf ears anyway.
Kate begged one more time for him to get out of the car, for him to just let her go, but he wouldn't. With an angry shake of her head she pressed her foot to the accelerator, and jumped forward quickly, only to break through the barrier to the parking garage which blocked her path.
That's when the shots rang out. A startled yelp escaped her mouth and she did her best to sink down in the seat, and pay attention to where she was driving at the same time. Before she realized it, a van had driven in front of her, and she couldn't stop fast enough. The force of his car hitting the van made a sickening crunch.
Kate turned quickly, wanting to check on him. She had to tell him goodbye before she left. No matter how many times she shook him, no matter how hard she tried to wake him up, nothing worked. And there was so much blood.
In a crushing instant, Kate realized Jack was dead.
Kate awoke with a start, lurching forward in bed and gasping for air. The nightmares had started a little more than a week after they first slept together, but every night they had been about Tom. Just like always. So then why had she just pictured Jack dead, his blood on her hands?
Stumbling out of bed, Kate managed to make it to the bathroom just before she got sick. When she finished, she leaned back against the bathtub, closing her eyes and trying to breathe deeply through her nose.
Hearing the sound of running water, Kate opened her eyes to see Jack standing at the sink, wetting a wash cloth. He knelt down in front of her, gently placing it on her forehead. "What was that all about?"
"It was just," Kate started to speak, but broke off into a cough. She was still having a difficult time catching her breath. "It was just a dream."
"One hell of a dream, Kate," Jack responded softly. He placed a hand over cheek. "You're burning up!"
"It was just a dream," she repeated, blinking rapidly. She didn't want to close her eyes, for fear of seeing Jack, battered and bloody. Before she knew it was happening, Kate began to shake and cry softly.
"Hey," Jack whispered, sitting down on the tile, and wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her head, and then softly placed his lips against her ear. "You're scaring me, Kate."
"I'm okay," she responded, pulling away a little. For some reason she was afraid to touch him. Even though Kate knew it hadn't been, her dream had seemed so real. "I think I need a drink."
Jack nodded wordlessly, and less than five minutes later Kate was relaxing on the couch, a glass of Jack Daniels in her hand. She took a quick drink, and enjoyed the burning sensation as it slid down her throat. He sat down next to her, pushing her hair out of her face.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Kate shook her head slowly, even though truthfully, she really did. She wanted to pour out every single detail of her past, and then have him tell her everything would be alright. "Just my past colliding with my present." She licked her lips, and spoke firmly, "It's fine. I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
"Okay. Whatever you want, Kate," Jack said quietly, still softly stroking her hair. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."
He leaned over and gently brushed his lips across hers. Kate kissed him back, happy to forget her dream, and even who she was, for just a little while.
Jack woke up several hours later, naked and wrapped tightly in a quilt. Kate was curled up in his arms, her head resting softly against his chest. He lay there, watching her sleep. Her nightmares seemed gone, at least for the time being. She moved around restlessly for a few minutes, before her eyes finally fluttered open.
Kate smiled, snuggled into him, and murmured, "Good morning."
God, he loved how her voice sounded in the morning. "Morning," he returned, kissing her forehead. She pulled away and started to say something, but a sound of the front door opening stopped her.
They glanced at each other puzzled until a woman's voice called, "Jack? Are you awake?"
Margo. Jack and Kate stared at each other, startled. They both quickly sat up, frantically scrambling to grab their clothes that were haphazardly thrown across the room. Kate managed to gather them all, and made it to the bottom of the stairs before she tripped over the blanket she was wrapped in. She landed on the ground with a thud, "damn it!"
Hearing the noise, Margo walked into the living room. She glanced from Jack, who was sitting on the couch, boxers in hand, to Kate, who was still on the floor, an unreadable smirk on her face. The room was silent for several seconds.
"Just friends, right?" Margo rolled her eyes and sat her key to Jack's house down on the coffee table. "Maybe it's about time I gave you that back, Jack. I'm going to go start breakfast. Why don't you two go put some clothes on, and then join me in the dining room." With one last icy glare towards Kate, Margo disappeared into the kitchen.
Less than twenty minutes later, Jack and Kate sat motionless, across from each other at Jack's large dining room table. Margo sat a plate in front of each one. "I made us each an omelet, and croissants."
Kate poked at her omelet for a few seconds. "Is there sausage in this?" She placed her fork back down, and smiled at Margo. "I try not to eat meat."
Jack was about to comment that she had eaten chicken on several occasions since her arrival, but decided against it. Instead, he sat back and watched their interaction.
Margo looked amused. "It won't kill you, darling." She paused a bit after the word kill and gave Kate a pointed smile. "Just eat it, alright?"
An angry look flashed across Kate's face so quick that Jack wondered if perhaps he'd just imagined it. Picking her fork back up, Kate shrugged, "Fine. I'll eat it." Very carefully Kate began to cut her omelet into tiny pieces, removing the sausage and placing each piece into a tiny pile beside her plate.
When the egg was dissected to Kate's satisfaction, she took a tiny bite, letting out an exaggerated, "Yum!"
"Okay," Jack said slowly, turning his attention from Kate's mess to his own food. A tense silence fell over the table.
"So, how long have you two been sleeping together?" Margo questioned as she sipped her orange juice. Placing her glass down, she smiled sweetly at Jack.
"Mom," Jack said warningly, setting down his fork. He started to continue, but was interrupted by the loud clang of Kate throwing her fork onto her plate.
They stared at her, Jack looking confused, Margo looking disgusted. Kate shrugged, non-apologetically. "It still tastes like meat."
Jack shook his head slightly at Kate, and turned his attention to his mother. "It's not your business what's going on between Kate and I."
"Not my business?" Margo repeated incredulously. "You're my son, Jack. I made it clear enough that I didn't like her living with you, and now she's sleeping with you? What would your father think, Jack?"
Jack's eyes iced over. "It doesn't really matter what Dad would think. He's dead, Mom. Not to mention that Dad isn't the best example of someone you'd really want to model your morality code after."
"Do not talk about your father that way, Jack. You have no idea what kind of man he really was. You have no idea how what happened, what you did, affected him," Margo turned to Kate. "Has Jack told you the story of why he was in Australia? Why Christian is dead?"
Kate shook her head silently, and Margo smirked. "I'm betting you haven't told him the story of why that marshal was so intent on catching you, either."
"Shut up, Mom!" Jack threw his napkin down on the table. "Just shut up. Why do you even come here? I am so sick of listening to you blame me for dad's death. I did not force Dad to drink all the time, I did not force Dad to operate on that woman and her baby when he couldn't hold his hands steady, and I did not force him to fly to Australia and have a heart attack!"
Margo sat stoically, and looked away, momentarily defeated. "I came because Martha wants to throw you a birthday dinner, Jack. I told her I would ask you about it."
Jack shook his head. "No. Marti never cared about throwing me a birthday dinner before I was presumed dead for two months, she shouldn't this year. I don't want that, Mom."
"Jack, everyone was devastated when they heard about your father and you," Margo's voice had softened, and she glanced down at her plate. "Just let them do this for you, Jack. Please?"
Before Jack could respond, Kate spoke up. "You didn't tell me it was almost your birthday."
"Next week," Jack said with a shrug. "I didn't think it was a big deal."
"Of course it's a big deal," Margo and Kate spoke in unison, and then shared an uncomfortable glance. Jack tried to hide his smile by taking a drink.
"I don't see why you don't want to go," Kate told Jack, leaning forward in her seat. "They just want to do something nice for you. They're your family, Jack."
"Darling," Margo leaned over and placed her hand on Kate's arm. "Jack and I are trying to have a conversation here. Would you mind giving us a little space?"
Kate looked to Jack, mouth agape, waiting for him to defend her. When he didn't, she stood up, grabbing her plate and glass. "Take all the time you need." She went to the kitchen and began to wash her plate off. She was surprised when she turned to find Jack standing behind her.
"What?"
He arched an eyebrow, "Do you need to be so immature?"
"Immature?" Kate questioned. "You think I'm being immature? Did you not pay attention to anything she said, Jack? Her emphasis on the world kill, the way she talks about me as if I'm not even in the room. You're about to turn forty, Jack. Your mom has a key to your house and shows up to make you breakfast. You wanna talk about immature?"
"She got a key when she thought I was dead, Kate. She was getting ready to sell my house when we got rescued," Jack shrugged. "I hadn't asked for it back yet. You just don't understand, Kate. She thought she had lost me and my dad. Getting me back is a hard adjustment for her."
Kate sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes. "Whatever, Jack. That's fine, but it's not the point. The point is we are none of her business. She acts like you're a damn fifteen year old. You can have sex with whoever you please."
"And you're the one I want to please," Jack smiled, taking a step closer to Kate, and wrapping his arms around her waist. She fought him for a second, trying to pull away. "Come on, Kate. The last thing I want to do is fight with you."
Kate relented, allowing him to hug her. "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I know I was being rude. But I am not going back out there to talk to her, Jack. I'm going to go take a shower." She placed the back of her hand against his cheek, enjoying the rough texture. "I think you should go to your party. Think about it, okay?"
Jack nodded, kissing her softly. "I'm sorry for the things she said."
Kate pulled away, shaking her head. "Just forget it, okay? I'll be upstairs, go talk to your mom." She slowly walked out of the kitchen, and upstairs.
Jack returned to the table, and Margo greeted him with a smirk. "Have a little lover's spat?"
"We're you listening to us?" his shook his head, disgusted.
"You weren't exactly whispering," Margo snapped. "Jack, I didn't come here to argue with you. I sure as hell didn't come here to interrogate you about who your having sex with. I just wish for once in your life you would think before you act. It's obvious that you are not the best judge of character. You never have been. You make mistake after mistake. And now this -- this thing with her just crosses the line, Jack."
Jack stood, shaking his head. "Get out."
"Jack," Margo tried to get his attention. "You should just listen --"
"Get out of my house!" Jack slammed his fist down next to her plate, rattling the entire table. "You do not come into my house and talk to me that way. You do not come in and talk about Kate that way. You don't know her."
Jack shook his head sadly, "You don't even know me, Mom."
Margo opened her mouth to respond, but just shook her head. "Someday you'll wish you listened to me. I won't show up here uninvited again. Good-bye, Jack."
Jack stood alone for several moments after she left, absorbing everything that had just happened. Finally, he cleared the table and then went to fix himself a drink.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The entire subject of that morning was dropped. Neither Kate nor Jack wanted to rehash the details, and it was left in the past. Later that night, Jack was playing a game online, while Kate read a magazine. She noticed him staring at her, and glanced up at him. "What?"
He stuck his bottom teeth out of her. "Do you think I need braces?"
Sitting her magazine on her lap, Kate arched an eyebrow, perplexed. "What?"
"The anesthesiologist was putting this girl under the other day, and she looked at me and said that her dad could fix my teeth if I wanted him too," Jack looked deep in thought. "She said he might not even charge me if I did a good job on the surgery."
Kate rolled her eyes and picked the magazine back up. Once her face was hidden safely behind it, she replied, "Braces at your age? I wouldn't do it. You'll be needing dentures soon anyway."
She wanted nothing more than to see the indignant reaction on Jack's face, but she didn't risk glancing from behind the magazine. It wouldn't be fun if he could see her gleeful smile. When she managed to put on a serious face, she saw he was glaring at her. "You are so not getting laid tonight."
Kate laughed, and returned to her magazine. "Yeah, sure. We'll see about that."
Jack shook his head. "Please, I have other resources, Kate. I don't need sex from you every night. I went long enough with out it before we slept together."
"Yes," Kate sat the magazine down, and moved over to the computer, taking a seat on his lap. "But now that you've had me, you just can't get enough."
Jack ran a hand up her shirt, resting it on her stomach. He leaned in to kiss her, "Is that so?"
Kate's response was interrupted by a loud slamming in the foyer. She glanced at Jack, her eyes wide. There was another slam, and then the sound of something breaking. There was some muffled profanity that sounded vaguely familiar to each of them.
"Stay here," he told her firmly, pushing her off his lap and heading towards the foyer. Shaking her head, she followed closely behind him. As Jack stepped into the foyer he put his arm out, blocking Kate from entering.
A shocked looked past over his face, and he dropped his arm to his side. Kate quickly glanced in to see what --or who-- was making such a racket. She, too, was shocked to see the man who stood in front of them, his shirt soaked in red.
The three took turns glancing back and forth to each other, each shocked in their own right. Jack spoke first.
"Sawyer."
