Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I am not making any money off this, so please don't sue me.
Summary: Jack carries a sleeping Kate to her tent.
Timeline: Season 2… some time between What Kate Did and Hunting Party, I guess. No real spoilers.
A/N: Just a fluffy/angsty little scenario that popped into my head and demanded to be written.
Not What She Seems
Jack was getting ready to trek back to the hatch after treating one of the survivors; a guy named Alan who severely twisted his ankle while exploring an area of the jungle further down the beach. He'd been up late bandaging Alan's ankle and finding suitable painkillers. Jack shook his head with a sigh; being the only doctor around was wearing on his nerves.
As he headed towards the path through the jungle, Jack noticed someone was still sitting by the dying fire, as late as it was. Out of curiosity and a little concern, Jack changed directions. As he got closer, he recognised the person slumped against a log by the fire with her arms crossed over her stomach. It was Kate, and she was fast asleep.
Surprised, Jack took a moment to examine her, something he'd never had the chance to do while she was awake. She lay with her head tipped to the side resting on her shoulder, with several of her loose, dark brown curls slipping across her face, partially obscuring her lightly freckled cheeks and nose. She's so different asleep, he mused… she looked vulnerable, fragile, cute; like someone who needed to be looked after. Such a contrast to the fiercely independent, fearless and utterly stubborn woman she was, or tried to be, during the day.
"Kate," he said, attempting to wake her. No reaction.
"Kate," he repeated, crouching beside her and shaking her shoulder gently, "wake up!"
Kate frowned and mumbled something he couldn't make sense of. In that moment, Jack realised she was not going to wake up easily… and he was not sure he wanted her to. Not with the tension that had developed between them since they kissed. Since she ran away from him. He didn't know how to talk to her about what had happened between them - half afraid she'd run again, half angry she had the first time - so he had been avoiding her.
Jack looked from Kate to her tent, only a little further down the beach then back to Kate as an idea came to him. After a moment's hesitation, Jack slipped an arm beneath her legs, wrapped the other around her back and, holding his breath, he lifted her up. Kate shifted a little but stayed asleep and, relieved, he carried her to her tent.
After somehow managing to get inside the tent without incident, Jack carefully deposited Kate on the airline seats she employed as a bed and covered her with an airline blanket that lay next to it. Then he paused, watching her sleep, thinking of the mugshot he had seen just days after the crash, and Kate's words as she cried over a small toy plane, "it belonged to the man I killed!". The sleep-softened face in front of him did not belong to a cold-hearted murder or a convict, he thought, more like a lost little girl.
Jack smiled to himself, then gently kissed Kate's forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Kate," he whispered as he left, "See you in the morning."
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please review and let me know, either way!
