She felt the sunlight penetrating through the thin canvas of her tent. She blinked a few times as she tried to regain her bearings. She peered over her shoulder, Sawyer was fast asleep, fully clothed, in the exact position where she left him earlier that night. His mouth was slightly ajar, but he was resting peacefully. She had a sneaking suspicion that he made conscious efforts not to move for fear of disturbing her, and it made her smile.

"Sawyer…" She shook him gently by the shoulder.

"Mmm..." He moaned softly before rolling over on his side, resting his head on his arm.

She smirked, covering him with the sheet. She decided to let him get a little extra sleep as she got dressed and cleaned herself up for the day. She worked as quietly as she could to pull some fresh clothing from her duffel bag, not that it mattered because he was completely knocked out. She then tiptoed out to wash up by the communal water. Thankfully it was early enough that she didn't run into of the girls last night. She wasn't particularly in the mood to be answering any questions about her early departure, nor Sawyer's intervention. Hopefully, she figured if she just avoided everybody for long enough, the whole issue would just blow over.

When she got back to her tent, he was still fast asleep. She tried again, shaking him a little bit harder this time. "Sawyer, wake up!!"

His fluttered open, and for a moment he was disoriented, not recognizing his tent. "Where—" His eyes bolted wide open and he looked around wildly, only to have his gaze fall on her grinning face.

"Oh… right." He sunk back into the pillow. "Mornin' Freckles."

"Sorry I woke you up."

No she's not.

He stretched his arms upward. "It's alright, there're worse ways to wake up." He grinned at her lazily. "Is it time fer me to go home?" There was a touch of bitterness to his voice.

"I'm hungry." She replied, not really answering the question.

"Well… go get some breakfast then. Y'know where the pantry is. The Froot Loops are excellent this time of year."

"Nope. I want fruit… fresh fruit." She wrapped both of her hands around his wrist and tried to pull him to an upright position. "And yer comin' with me."

"Unh…" Sawyer tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand. Obviously, this was not how he had planned to spend his day. Not that he really had a plan for any of his days anyway.

"Oh come on, you're already dressed anyway."

When he didn't instantly respond she pouted, slightly hurt. "Please?"

Dammit.

He couldn't say no to her. He shrugged hopelessly. "Well, since ya asked so nice."

She broke out into a bright grin, and that enough to wake him up completely. She grabbed his hand, peeked her head out the tent, and then led him out. The fact that she felt compelled to check whether anybody would see them holding hands was not lost on him, but he really never expected any better. Still, there was something liberating about walking with her on their island. He really had no idea where she was taking him, and he was never that good about situational awareness, so he just trusted that her tracking skills would eventually lead them back to the beach.

She didn't seem to have a specific destination in mind, but on the island it was a pretty safe bet if you followed the green, sooner or later you'd find fruit. They walked in a comfortable silence for several minutes, she seemed to have something on her mind and he didn't want to talk about it unless she brought it up. So dutifully he followed her through all the foliage and overgrowth.

Eventually they stumbled upon a hidden clearing that was concealed by tall palm trees that provided ample shade. Nearby there looked to be a couple mango and guava trees. By that time Sawyer actually had worked up an appetite from all the walking. They looked at eachother, nodding in silent agreement. He plopped himself down on a log and patted the spot next to her, signaling for her to sit down. She shook her head, pointing up at the foliage overhead. He shrugged, slightly bowing his head and opening his hands in a "Be my guest gesture." Inwardly, he was amazed how they could have a full blown conversation without sharing any words.

Deftly, she began to scale the nearest tree, skillfully feeling for all sorts of ridges and holes for handholds. When she reached a sufficiently sturdy branch, she began to baby-step her way to the edge, holding on to a higher branch with her hands to maintain balance. When she neared the leafy ends, she was able to reach a free hand to start feeling around a bunch of fruit, squeezing to find the ripest ones.

"You ready?" She shouted below her.

He gave her a high thumbs up.

She plucked two of the biggest ones she could find and unceremoniously dropped them without looking down, trusting he would catch them. Sure enough, when she glanced down, he was holding one in either hand.

Satisfied, she began to shimmy her way down, simply letting go and dropping down when she was a few feet from the ground. No sooner had she landed, Sawyer tossed her the bigger mango.

When she seated herself next to him, he was digging around in his pants for the pocket knife he always carried with him. He started to say "Allow me," as he unhinged it, but when he looked up she already had juice messily dripping down her chin. He chuckled softly, before pocketing the knife and taking a bite himself.

For a few minutes, they just ate quietly, occasionally slurping.

"Sawyer?" She started suddenly, wiping off some stray juice with the back of her hand. "Do you love me?"

He coughed, startled by her incredibly random and unexpected question. He exhaled sharply, looking down at his hands, playing with the large pit of the mango. He smiled sardonically, at a loss for words. She looked on curiously, apparently oblivious to how uncomfortable she was making him feel.

Slowly, he spoke up. "I think I already answered that question for you."

She shifted uncomfortably, breaking her eye contact with him. An incredibly pregnant silence followed, before he finally outburst, "C'mon Austen, are you actually gonna make me say it?"

She shook her head vigorously, thankful that he was talking again. After a moment, she followed-up to the unanswered question. "Why?"

He chuckled, unable to con his way out of this conversation. His shoulders sagged defeatedly, he looked at her and answered honestly, "You can't help who you love, Kate."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a prickle in her neck. "What… what'd you say?"

He repeated, slowly. "I said… you can't help who you love…" When he noticed she was now speechless, he quickly looked down and added, "Sorry."

When she realized that he thought he needed to apologize, she woke up a bit "No.. it's not that. It's just… that's what my mother would say to me."

He broke out into a congenial smile. "She sounds like a smart woman." He rolled his eyes innocently before adding, "If we ever get off this God-forsaken island, you should introduce us."

At that, they both broke into nervous laughter. "Heh…Don't think she'd be too happy about that."

He feigned offense. "What, why not? I don't have any weird tattoos or piercings like the midget rock star."

"It's not you, she'd love a good Southern boy like you." she answered. "I'm just not sure she'd like to see me again." The sheer honesty came unexpectedly, before she had a chance to stop herself her. Strangely, it felt raw to admit, but not completely painful.

He didn't know how to respond, so he just squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. It was strange to her. Here they were, talking about relationships and meeting eachother's parents as if they weren't stranded on an isolated island somewhere in the South Pacific. It was so weird and bizarre and yet, it felt completely natural.

"Sawyer… what is this?'

"What's what?"

"This!" She frantically waved a hand in the space between them. "You know… us."

He shook his head, unable to believe that she was bringing all of this up now, so suddenly and without warning. Fortunately, he already knew the answer to this one.. He sighed before looking at her straight in the eyes. "It's whatever you want it to be, Austen."

It was so sincere, so selfless, so simple. Too easy, she wouldn't accept it. "What do you want?"

"Unh..." He groaned exasperatedly, staring hopelessly at the sky. "Dontcha get it, Freckles? What I want don't really make a difference in this matter."

She was beginning to get angry again. Irrational, of course. But it was the only way she knew how to respond. "How can you say that? You don't mean that!" Hopefully, if she could get a rise out of him, she'd have an actual reason to be angry.

To her chagrin, he remained as calm and resigned as ever. "I can say it Freckles, and I'll tell ya why." He heaved his pit away into the bushes and wiped his hands on his jeans before continuing, "I never really thought that I deserved you."

She was about to retort, but he gave her a warning look before continuing. "Let's get one thing straight, I don't think he does either. But either way… sooner or later he's going to come to his senses and realize that you are ten times the woman that frigid blonde is. And then?" He shrugged.

She was too stunned to even deny it. He kept going. "The last few days, I've been on borrowed time. We both know that. So y'know, I figger, until that happens, I might as well enjoy whatever it is we're doin'. Cuz when it comes down to it Freckles, I'd rather be spending time with ya, even if I am bein' delusional or hurting inside, than not."

He shrugged at her one last time before focusing back at the ground, ashamed. Hopeless, dejected. She could feel the warmth welling in her eyes and blinked several times to fight them back. She sniffed audibly, unable to form any words.

"There ain't no need to waste any tears on me, Freckles."

She clasped a hand on her mouth, completely overwhelmed at how completely the man before her had bared his soul. Slowly, she approached him, kneeling down at his feet. The oddness of the position was not lost on either of them. Slowly, cautiously, she slid her hand into his, rubbing her thumb over the back of his knuckles.

She leaned in ever so slightly, her eyes open to catch any reaction. He didn't reciprocate, but he didn't try to move away either. His eyes were staring directly back at hers. He wasn't going to be the one to initiate. He gave no sign of encouragement or eagerness. Just hope.

She breathed softly, he could feel the warmth on his skin. She tilted her chin upward and for what felt like the first time, she kissed him. Softly, tenderly, she pressed her wet lips against his, her mouth parted slightly in invitation. He responded, but not without the slightest bit of hesitation, as if afraid that the wrong move might scare her away. She lingered just a moment longer before prying herself away. He did not resist. Their foreheads were touching, as they shared eachother's breath. She could feel his eyelashes tickle her skin as he blinked. It made her smile.

"Don't worry, James. I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: And there it is folks. Hope it was enjoyable, not too fluffy. Either way, let me know what you think in your reviews. Just a random tidbit, the title sort of has a double meaning for me. Readers of my other story can attest, I'm normally not that fast a writer. But I was so worried that they would do something stupid next week, I spent most of the weekend writing this so I could sort of "beat the clock" before next episode. That is, at least until next Wednesday, Sawyer and Kate can live happily ever after in my dream world. Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope you all liked it.