As it turns out, "next time" was much sooner than he ever would have thought or hoped. That night, while he was asleep, he sensed a rustling as somebody was approaching his tent. Instinctively, still half-asleep, his fingers tightened around the gun he kept under his pillow.

Groggily he began to stir. "Whoizzat?"

"Sawyer, it's me."

"Wha… Freckles?" He woke up considerably at hearing her voice. It was dark, but as she pulled back the flap of his tent, he could make out the outline of her figure in the moonlight.

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry, did I wake you?"

He was secretly thankful that it was dark, otherwise she would have seen him roll his eyes in a "duh" expression.

"Nah, I was up anyway… just workin' on my taxes." That was the first sarcastic comment that popped into his head. He was a little disappointed with it, but he was a tired.

She shrugged nonchalantly, satisfied with the answer as she snuggled her body against his.

"I couldn't sleep. You mind if I hang out here a while?"

Again, if it weren't so dark, she would have seen his expression of complete and utter confusion, mixed with the slightest bit of panic. "Uh yeah… sure. Waddya wanna do?"

His heart began pounding rapidly in his chest, and involuntarily he felt a dull throb underneath his sheets. Surely not…

Kate arched an eyebrow as she rolled over to face him. "Sawyer… are you naked?"

He grinned unabashedly, his teeth glinting faintly. "This is my tent, Freckles."

She felt a warmth spread through her cheeks, and it made her smile. She rolled over, making sure to keep the sheet as a barrier between their bodies. She blindly stuck out her hand somewhere near where figured his face might be and lunged forward.

"OW! Sonnuvabitch! That was my eye!" She felt him flinch back, and she had to stifle a giggle.

"Sorry!!" She reached again, lighter this time, until she found his skin. She ran her hand down his defined jaw, feeling his rough stubble against her palm. She started stroking his cheek with her thumb gently, soothingly. Her fingers twined in his long hair. She repeated, softer this time. "I'm sorry."

She felt the weight of his head go slack as he relaxed. There were a few moments of silence, in which she could almost hear the gears whirring in his head. "Mmm… so what's goin' on, Freckles?"

The sincerity of his question caught her off guard. For a moment she panicked, unsure of how to answer. Resignedly, she decided to match his honesty. "I was feeling kinda lonely in my tent, and I was wondering…" She caught an intake of breath, unsure of how to continue. She let the sentence drop, anticipating some snide, innuendoed remark.

She gasped at the suddenness of her chin, cradled in his strong hands. She could feel his breath against her face as he leaned in. Although she couldn't see, she could feel the heat of his gaze on hers. She heard the slow, baritone register of his voice drawl, "Mi casa es su casa. Always, Freckles." Although she couldn't see it, she could feel his warm smile.

His hand lingered on her face as he slumped back onto the pillow. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Ya don't even haveta ask."

That was it? No dirty double entendre? Moreover, there was no sign of judgment or admonishment in his voice. There were no indicators that she would "owe" him later, or that he thought any less of her for asking. He didn't try anything, didn't imply anything. It was simple, matter-of-fact. And she was dumbfounded.

Tentatively, unsure of what else she could do, she carefully laid her cheek against his broad chest. "Thank you James," she whispered.

She could hear his heartbeat quicken as he heard his real name, but he remained silence. She wondered if he had a reaction everytime she used this name. Slowly, lulled by the rise and fall of his breath, she drifted off into dreamless sleep.

The next few days, they spent a fair bit of time together. He duly took note that the good doctor and Juliet, were also spending an increasing amount of time together. He knew she just needed him for distraction, and he was happy to oblige. They kept eachother company doing the most mundane island activities—hanging laundry, refilling the water gourds, or playing the occasional game of ping-pong. He would tell her stories about some of his college antics, mostly true, and make her laugh. He'd still make racy, suggestive comments to her, but never acted on them. Once in a while, she would reveal some little tidbits of her life as well. He started calling her "Austen" whenever the two of them were alone. It was a sort of reciprocity for "James." She said that only her mom called her "Katherine," but he found Austen a much more fitting endearment anyway. He said that he had fond memories of the city.

On some nights, she'd sneak back into his tent to sleep. Sometimes they'd talk. Other times, they'd just lie in silence, enjoying the roar of the ocean lapping against the shore. Sometimes she'd ask him to read to her, and she would fall asleep to the sounds of Wuthering Heights. A "chick-book," he called it. Sawyer was sure that the islanders were speculating something much less innocent going on, they never held hands or gave any indication of any relationship beyond platonic.

Skeezy perverts.

One night, the islanders had a bonfire. Apparently it was Korean New Year, and Jin and Sun wanted to celebrate. Jin had pulled out all the stops with the seafood dinner, and Sun had decorated all the tents with some tropical island flowers.

In a corner, Sawyer sat with Desmond, Charlie, and Sayid, where in high-spirits, sharing some Dharma cookies and past experiences. Ever since the boarhunt, he'd come to really like Desmond. The Scotsman was a little rougher around the edges, but he could hold his liquor, and it made Sawyer feel a little less alone. Charlie was still a little annoying, and personally, Sawyer was convinced that he'd never seen a naked woman. Still, since that little staged incident with Sun, he was beginning to appreciate the kid a little more.

Finally, although Sawyer would never admit it, since their shared disdain for Juliet, he was beginning to warm up to the Iraqi.

Desmond was telling them how he got kicked out of the monastery, and Sawyer was laughing particularly hard because stealing booze from a winery was exactly something he would do. He was about to interrupt with his own tale, when he looked up, and saw Kate quickly retreating from a cluster of women surrounding Claire and Aaron, who was apparently his "cute" phase.

Concerned, he glanced around to see what could have upset her. Bingo. There, at the edge of the bonfire, Jack and Juliet were sharing a log, feeding eachother some of Jin's little individual sushi bites. The doctor was laughing and teasing as he would make a motion to feed her, only to pull it away last minute and eat it himself.

Disgusting.

He promptly excused himself from his circle as he went of to pursue his lady love. As he approached her tent, he could hear the faint sounds of sobbing from inside. Not wanting to intrude, he "knocked" as best he could on the flap of the tent. "Freckles? Hey, you in there?"

"S-Sawyer? Don't come in!"

He rolled his eyes before entering anyway. He looked away politely as she frantically tried to wipe away her tears.

"I'm sorry… I'm being so stupid." She pulled out the large lily that Sun had weaved into her hair and twirled it in her fingers absently. He glanced over and satisfied that she had settled, strode over and wrapped her tightly in his arms, inhaling deeply as her head rested under his chin. He felt angry that Jack had hurt her. He was pissed off that she didn't seem to care that he would never hurt her like that. He bitterly wondered if she could ever cry like that over him. He knew that despite his best efforts, her feelings weren't going to change. He knew, because his feelings weren't going anywhere.

He growled, his hot breath, warm against her ear. "The doc… Jack. He's a moron that doesn't deserve you."

"You," he continued forcefully. "Are a goddess."

She pulled away from him, gazing intently at his rugged features. Her eyes filled with…what? Sympathy? Longing? Pity?

He didn't care anymore. All he knew was tonight, there was nothing he wanted more than to worship her, wholly and unselfishly. As each day passed, he was becoming feeling less and less sure confident that he would ever have the opportunity to prove his complete adoration and devotion. Everytime they consummated, the moment was never right. It was always impulsive, desperate, and over quickly. Just pure unbridled lust. Even the few times they'd kissed, they were never the best of circumstances. The first time, he'd conned her into it, and that was after being tortured. That time in the quarry, it was just a ruse to get a feel for the Others (at least, that's what she thought). But that's not all he felt for her, far from it. He didn't know if she would accept his gift, one he had been willing to give for a while now, but he had to try. He wanted to give himself to her completely, expecting nothing in return. She was too perfect, too exquisite, to not feel beautiful.

Gently, he laid her down onto her pallet, and she did not resist. He crouched down next to her, slowly guiding her out of her shirt. She still didn't resist. As he tossed it aside, he noticed the lily she had pulled out of her hair. Playfully, he traced a line with the silky petal along her cheek, down her neck, and across her collarbone. To his delight, she gasped.

He smiled in spite of himself. He looked at her indulgently. "Yer gorgeous, Austen."

She broke out into a congenial smile, squeezing his hand in hers. It was so tiny and delicate, but enough to send sparks flying up his arm. Gently, he slid his hand underneath the small of her back, slowly dragging his fingertips up her spine. They rested on the clasp of her bra. He looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with intention. She nodded, giving her permission for him to continue.

He swooped upon her, pressing his lips onto her neck, lathing her porcelain skin with his tongue. Skillfully he managed to undo her bra without ceasing his ministrations on her neck. With his free hand, he caressed her stomach, before bringing it up her side to meet its partner. Unhurriedly, he raised her arms over her head to slide the garment off. While her arms were in the air, he took care to kiss her fingertips, her palms, her inner wrists.

He worked slowly and meticulously, giving special attention to each crevice and dip of her body. He would drag his tongue down her skin, and then blow softly, eliciting shivers as the cool air evaporated off her body. He would draw languid circles in her flesh, and then barely trace his fingertips against her skin, sending ticklish waves across her body. He experimented with texture and pressure, his teeth, lips, tongue, hands all searching, exploring. Every now and then, he could feel her flinch and hear her gasp as he delved into some of her most sensitive spots. He immersed himself fully into the task, wanting his actions to express the emotion he could never articulate in words.

He did not dare look up, as he proceeded to plant a series of kisses from her sternum, down her navel, and finally rest on the string of her skirt. He glanced up, her eyes were peacefully shut, her chest and stomach rising and falling deeply. If she wanted him to stop, she gave no indication. Plying his fingertips underneath her waistband and panties, he slowly pulled down, watching intently as she slithered herself out of them. He could only look on transfixed, absently running his hand down the smoothness of her legs. Scooting down, he scattered kisses down her thighs and legs, before finally landing at her perfect feet. Kissing her toes lightly, he began to rub luxuriously on the fleshy pads on her soles. Pressing firmly with his thumbs, he massaged vigorous circles around her feet, eliciting a low moan.

"Mmm… please."

He was startled as he heard her voice for the first time. Looking up, he saw her eyes flutter open, peering at him, pleading. She repeated, hoarsely. "Please…"

Compelled to acquiesce to her wishes, he began to slide a hand slowly up her inner thigh, hovering at the junction. He hesitated, daring one last time to look up at her face. Her breaths had quickened, and she nodded fervently. Cautiously, he slipped two fingers between the folds of her lips, surprised by the eager wetness that awaited. Slowly, he inserted them deeper.

"Oh… James," she whimpered. He paused, surprised. He wasn't sure that he'd ever been intimate with a woman that knew his name. He found it strangely pleasant.

Satisfied that she really wanted him to continue, he slid down further in order to bring his lips to hers. He rested her legs on his shoulders as he slowly delved in. He kissed her cautiously, awkwardly at first. Quickly he pulled away, awaiting a reaction. When none came, he approached again, more confidently this time, and his tongue entered her. He lathed her almost tortuously slow, savoring her juices, feeling her pulsate against him. He breathed deeply, fully immersing himself into the single task of giving her his undivided attention.

He took his time, and he felt gratified as he began to feel her legs twitch involuntarily, beginning her ascent towards climax. He began to intensify his movements, as he felt her upper body shift suddenly. He stole a glance and saw that she had propped herself onto her forearms, and she was peering down at him curiously, eyes wide and bright.

Immediately he pulled back, feeling a nervous tightness in his chest. "I'm sorry…Didja want me to stop?"

"What?" She laughed musically, a healthy blush in her cheeks and a sheen beginning to develop on her forehead. "No, of course not." She lifted a hand to run her fingers through his straight straw-colored hair. "I just wanted to be able to see you… James."

He felt the tightness lessen slightly, but was now faced with the new problem of trying to make sense of this new reality. She was talking to him. Watching him. Calling his name. This time, tonight, she wanted him. He shook his head, having no idea how to begin digesting this information.

Sawyer looked up and saw her looking at him quizzically, without judgment, without guilt. Just desire. Desire for him. She pleaded, "Baby…please. I'm getting so close. Please don't stop." Her breathing was heavy and audible, her hair disheveled, her skin radiant. God she looks beautiful.

He nodded once before setting out to make love to her the way he had wanted to do since they were freed from the Others.

XxXxXxX

When it was over, she laid still for several minutes, a silly grin plastered on her face as she basked in the blissful afterglow of a satisfaction she hadn't felt in a far too long. She sighed contently, completely unmindful of her nudity. She exhaled deeply, physically spent after the much needed release. She rested her eyes for a moment, only to hear a rustling as he began to stir quietly.

She sat-up abruptly. "James?...Sawyer? You're not… leaving are you?"

He looked at her dumbly, obviously thinking that she had fallen asleep. "I was just gonna get some water." He shrugged and smiled, somewhat embarrassed. "My mouth gotta little dry…"

It was somewhat gratifying to see her genuine concern. "Don't worry, Austen. I'm not goin' anywhere." He squeezed her foot reassuringly, before exiting the tent.

She wrapped a sheet around herself tightly, listening intently for his footfall. It took longer than she thought, but sure enough, a few minutes later, he was back, just as he promised. Without saying a word, he slipped next to her, keeping in mind to stay on top of the sheet as to keep a barrier between them. It was ironic really, considering that it was just few minutes ago that he was giving her the most conscientious physical pleasure he had ever given to anyone in his life, he was still worried that sleeping next to eachother would be too intimate for her. He had spent so many nights watching her sleep, albeit behind bars, and it was almost painful to not be able to touch her when she was so close. Still, he made a point to stay on his side until she sidled up next to him, her sheet rubbing uncomfortably against his clothing. She burrowed her nose into his chest and she whispered, "Thank you, James" as she instantly fell asleep.

A/N: That's the most graphic I get. Like I said, hopefully it was sexy and erotic, but not too trashy. Please feel free to let me know what you think either way.