The Island

Iteration four of five- via the Weather Vane

Kate paced in the jungle near the well-worn path to the caves. Her eyes flitted as she walked, ears straining for anyone headed her way.

Before she'd set out on this trip through the Weather Vane she had her first actual lesson from Richard on how to use it. They were both awestruck by Walt's ability to slide between worlds effortlessly. Being a mere non-telekinetic mortal herself Kate had to use the station more like a scheduling tool. But she could do that now, and it freed Richard and Walt up to do their inventory of the other four worlds they were connected to while she kept at her goals.

They all felt the pressure to make progress: No one knew when an attack by the D.I. might be coming or from where. But at least for this one day, Kate had given herself the gift of time. It'd be hours and hours before she would feel that odd, blurry, wavy sensation between her throat and her chest that told her she was being pulled back to "her" island, the one without a Boone or a Charlie, a Sayid, a Claire or a….

"Jack," she saw him coming up the path toward her, said his name sharply but softly in case anyone was right behind him. No one was, and he stopped in his tracks, absently shifting the backpack he was carrying a little and looking for the source of the whispering. She stepped out onto the path and heard him exhale in relief.

"So you weren't a hallucination," he said, face straight and forehead wrinkled slightly. "There's some good news, for once," but he was looking away from her as he finished the thought, out at nothing particular in the jungle. "I was just talking with you down at the beach."

"I know," she said, "I saw… before I came up here."

"Stalking me?" he asked archly and she grinned, couldn't resist sparring.

"Takes a stalker to know one."

"Aw, all right then," Jack actually laughed and looked down, quickly back up at her. "Touché. I guess you tried to leave me and it didn't go so well?"

"The separation didn't work out," she said. "Can we go talk? I won't run away so fast this time, I have hours."

"I think we pretty much have to talk," he looked her over and she realized how much bigger she was than when she'd seen him last. She'd gone way past "is that a baby bump?" to "yeah, no doubt."

"Can you hike out and around the caves, meet me over there? I'm dropping off fish and guava. I'll tell them I'm going back for more."

"Of course, see you soon," she said, saw him start to turn. "Oh, Jack, wait, take this," She handed him the pack on her shoulder. "Stash it with your stuff."

He unzipped the bag, started rifling through and his eyes lit up.

"Painkillers, antibiotics, syringes," he clearly appreciated the sign of good faith. "This is a huge help, thanks. Why all the asthma inhalers, though? There must be a dozen of them in here."

"You'll know soon," she said. "I figured I'd save someone a lot of suffering. Several people, actually. Suffering and bad will that never had to be." She waved toward the caves. "Go, deliver your fish. See you soon."

"See you," he turned again and that's when she felt it fully: She'd never be able to watch him walk away without wanting to go after him. Suddenly there was someone else on the island she wanted to have a good long talk with – but she knew it wouldn't help. She wouldn't listen to herself anyway.

Ann Arbor

Driveway of Sawyer and Annie's rental house

It's easy enough to hate a 'side,' to screw over a 'side'. There have been at least two sides in every single battle from the beginning of time and mostly they're about ideology. He has good reasons to hate ideologues. One of them hijacked his life, caused the death of the woman he loved, turned his friends into puppets, zombies and martyrs.

As long as you do what you can to protect your friends, who cares who wins the war? He sure as hell doesn't.

"You okay?" Sawyer asked Annie as she slid in the car, put on her seat belt. He started it up and flicked on the wipers to push away the light frost that had formed in the hour after he'd gotten back to the house. It was December in Michigan, and though it wasn't brutally cold it was chilly enough for frost and to see your breath on the air as you walked to the car. "You've barely said a word in the last hour."

"Yeah," she said, pulling on some gloves. "I'm fine. It freaked me out a little, seeing you come in. It's not the disguise, although they did a good job with it. It made where we're going next feel so… real. I won't let you all down, I promise."

"You can do this," he checked the back window, pulled out of the driveway. "Listen, I know Miles gave you the negative reinforcement speech back there, but there's something he forgot to tell you," Sawyer turned back to her as they drove off and the cold but electric gleam in his eye and the hard and inviting curl of his lips as he smiled at her nearly made her gasp out loud. "Conning people is fun. Especially when you get it right. So let's go have some fun."

He'd heard the bitchy little voice of reason reprimanding him in his head these last weeks: "They went through it all too. They're not playing this for money, for revenge, to feel alive again. They picked a side and they stuck with it. Why can't you?"

There was a time he thought he had. Then he and she got slapped down hard for it.

It was on the Ajira flight to Nauru that he had remembered himself: A tiger doesn't change his stripes. People who con keep conning. People who run keep running. People who keep trying to prove themselves to mommy and daddy- they just drive themselves crazy, get killed. It would never be over with these people. They'd keep fighting over that freaking rock until they were each broke, destroyed or dead.

Sawyer and Annie were headed for a diner fifty miles away to meet the most senior Dharma Initiative officers left in the world. They'd have an hour, maybe less, for Annie to convince them she wanted to go back to the island with them. Whatever she could get out of them about their plans, how deep their pockets were, how they might attack – that was the prize, the information she desperately wanted to take back to Hurley and Ben. She had no way of knowing everything they'd tell her was a lie, that they knew exactly who they were dealing with and that to them she was at worst a distraction, at best perhaps a potential hostage with which to sway the latest head of the island.

He didn't care if it was a place where miracles happened, he wasn't ready to lay down and die for it- or watch them waste their last breaths on it either. So he made some calls, made some deals, prepared to play one side against the other.

He's not abandoning them, he tells himself. He's done what he can to protect them: Kate, Walt, Hurley, Miles, hell, even Annie and Evan.

He'll profit in a huge way whoever "wins," he's made sure of that. And even though it's not his primary mission he takes some comfort knowing that in the process of screwing the fanatics over he'll also accomplish something Jack swore he would but never did: They'd all be off the island when this round was done, all his friends, Hurley included. As long as it plays out right, he tells himself, the rest of this- none of it matters.

*&* -_- +-+ (:

Back at the house Miles was multi-tasking on the computer after Sawyer and Annie left. Evan scooped up Joop, headed for the kitchen.

"I'll get him some lunch," he said and Miles barely nodded, deep in what he was doing.

"Hey, fine," he said a second and a half later, "But come back as soon as you can. We have to track them and I'm checking in with Hurley again. They're getting more in on this this boat that's out there…."

"Yeah, I'll be quick," Evan said. He got Joop set up, and once he was happily distracted on the kitchen table nibbling at a plate of fruit and greens Evan pulled the piece of paper Annie had handed to him out of his pants pocket. She'd folded it intricately, like origami or those little foldy finger puppets with words on the sides that girls made when he was at school on the island. It took him a few seconds to pry it apart. He remembered how she'd slipped it to him in the moments before she came downstairs to leave with Sawyer.

"Don't let Miles see this," was all she said. "Not yet. After this morning, he won't believe me. But it might help later. It might be backup for you."

He'd stuck it in his pocket reflexively, not even looking at it at the time. The way he did it so automatically without question made her smile but it wasn't a happy smile.

"Maybe you could get Joop to the island for me?" She asked, squeezed his shoulder briefly and then started down the stairs. "He deserves better than to live in a boring old steel and glass apartment with a caretaker."

Now he had the note apart and it was very much to the point, like her.

"Something's wrong," Annie had written. "I saw his face in the second before he walked in the door. He's hating on himself for a lie. Find out for sure - warn Hurley and Ben. I think we are being played."

The Island

Iteration four of five- via the Weather Vane

"Why are you here?" They were the first words out of Jack's mouth and he was still walking toward her, didn't even bother to wait until he was caught up to her at their rendezvous beyond the caves. His tone was more concerned than hostile but Kate saw he was going to be at his most demanding and least patient today. "I'd ask how you're here, but I'm guessing that question will take some serious time to answer."

"Both questions will," Kate said, her voice calm and patient to deflect his. She started walking out slowly toward the Weather Vane. "Why am I here? First, I'm here because our friends and I might need somewhere to hide soon, to regroup. Where we are a war is coming," she said and saw him visibly calm down, start to really listen. "You might be able to help us with that. And two, I can help you all get out of here. You don't have many reasons to believe me yet," she stopped, pointed to where she wanted them to turn next, "but I care about that as much. If you all get out of here alive," she searched for the words in her heart and then they came pouring out of her mouth. "I might be able to spend the rest of my life at peace."

"If you know how to get us out of here," Jack was clearly still focused on the only thing that he could think about, "does that mean you're not stranded anymore? Who's still on your island? How do we get away, and when?"

"Every question I answer right now," she said, didn't break her stride this time, "Will only lead to a hundred more."

"That," Jack said, "I believe. Maybe it'd be best if we walk for now, talk when we get where you're taking us."

They spent the next half hour in silence, pushing through heavy grass up to their knees. Jack took the lead, clearing branches and kicking a path through for her. She steered them, then stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, stepped in front of him and much to his confusion started prying apart vines that looked to be falling over a cliff until he saw they were falling over a huge metal door with a heavy handle.

For a second he stared frozen at the first sign of a man-made structure he'd seen on the island, then he jumped forward and helped her pull the heavy door. He stuck his head in and saw stairs leading down, stepped back out.

"It's a hatch," Kate said, "A station. A place none of us ever did find. It's safe. We can go in and no one will bother us."

She led the way down, pulling a small flashlight out of her pack and he followed.

"Is this the only one of them?" Jack found the circuit boxes, threw a breaker and the power snapped on with a thrum. The computers of the Weather Vane flickered on, the kitchen lit up and the breakfast booth and bunk beds were softly illuminated.

"No, there's a bunch of them – six, maybe eight," she said and saw the latest wave of 'what the hell' wash over his face. "This is the Weather Vane. You'll spend some time in The Swan soon. "

"It's like being at Alice's tea party," Jack said half under his breath, as much to himself as to her.

"It'll get easier, I promise, she said. This hatch is how I'm getting here. It's a weather station, too," she said, walking around the room, "And there's a working refrigerator. You could store food here."

"How is it powered?" Jack asked, walking his own slow circle, examining it all.

"Solar powered. Perfect, right? There's a breakfast nook, and look- a shower," she pointed it out with a grin, remembering how happy they'd all been with the simple pleasure of a working bathroom, soap and shampoo.

"What's this?" Jack pulled open a door not far from the shower, saw racks of shelf space, a bench inside.

"It's a walk-in safe, basically," Kate said, joined him and started fiddling with the lock. "You can set a combination – use it to store things you don't want everyone getting at. Pick three numbers." There was a lilt in her voice as she waited to hear what'd come next.

"Three, twelve, sixty nine," he said quickly and she stopped short and then went back to setting it. "Not what you expected?" he asked.

"Your birthday," she smiled up at him, "Easy to remember. But yeah, I was expecting to hear some other numbers. Too soon, though. I'm ahead of myself. There," she said, handed him the door. "All programmed for you. Want to try it out?"

"Sure. Hey, what's that along the back wall?" Jack asked and she stepped inside.

"What? There's nothing….." Kate stepped inside and then felt her heart fall at the exact moment that the door snapped shut, the tumblers of the lock falling into place. "Jack," she barked it. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry," he sounded it, too, sounded torn and pained, and she looked straight up at the ceiling of the safe caught between extreme annoyance and a vague memory of what it had been like to feel as completely frantic as she knew he did right now. "But I can't let you leave here until you explain everything to us. And I need someone else to hear it- someone who's an expert on questioning people. I'm going to get Sayid."

Kate started to laugh so hard that to Jack it sounded like she was standing right next to him, and not on the other side of the door he had his left hand and his ear pressed against.

"I locked you in a safe and told you I'm going to get our resident interrogation expert," he said, "and you're laughing?"

She caught her breath, put her own face against the inside of the door.

"It's okay, go get him," she said softly, but he heard it. "I was actually going to ask to talk to him too. You know he and I trusted each other right from the start, when everyone else was fighting. We see each other clearly. And if I come here in a crisis, having two of you who know me doubles my chance of getting help."

There was a pause.

"That makes perfect sense," Jack said.

"Okay, so go get him Jack. But make it quick – because in three hours I'm gone, safe or no safe. I'll explain that to you, too, when you decide to let me out."

He didn't say anything more, but she heard him run for the stairs and knew they'd be back soon. She sat on the bench along the wall nearest the kitchen, then stretched out, feeling the exhaustion of the trip here really hitting home. She wiped tears from her eyes, told herself they were only about the laughing jag she'd had.

She fell asleep wondering how people who cared so much about each other could keep on having trust issues big enough to drive a submarine through.