Lost - Sawyer and Kate
Word Count: 1094
Rating: work safe
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Posted to lost_fanfic
Even so close to the dawn, where the horizon was barely starting to lighten to a lighter shade of blue linked with the pale peach of the morning sun, the air of the Island was still warm and humid. It had rained the night before, leaving cow bellies full of water in the roof of Sawyer’s tent. Kate had padded across the camp on feet that any cat burglar would be jealous of only to find him still sound asleep. She had a heavy backpack over one shoulder and her hiking boots tightly laced around her ankles as she thought about poking a hole into one of the sagging sections of his tent roof to send water pouring over him to wake him up.
She slipped a bit into the tent, still amazed that he hadn’t woken up yet. It worried her a little. Was he still recovering from the gunshot wound? She didn’t want to bring him out into the jungle away from Jack and the medicine if he was still sick. He looked almost innocent as he slept, the long fringe of his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. If it wasn’t for the stubble of his beard, she’d thought he looked like the lost little boy that she knew James Ford really was.
“Sawyer?” she said softly, kicking at his foot to wake him up.
“What!” he snapped up in an instant, the thin blanket he’d covered his nakedness with falling to his waist. “Shit, Freckles you about gave me a heart attack. Y’all might want to make a noise when you come into a man’s tent.”
“Well you might want to be awake and ready to go when I come get you.” Kate frowned down at him. “I expected you to wake me up this morning, ready to go find the Black Rock.” Besides, she thought, now he was going to have to get into his gun stash with her tagging along. That brought a smile to her face as he rolled over flashing a very nicely shaped butt covered in only a small pair of underpants that left nothing to her very active imagination.
“Don’t get your shorts in a knot, Sunshine,” he grumbled as he climbed to his feet, bumping his shoulder against one of the cow bellies and sending the water down the sides of the tent. “I got watcha need right here.” Sawyer reached beneath into a pack, and showed her a pair of guns. “I packed last night. Didn’t want you followin’ me out to my stash this mornin’ and tellin’ the good doctor and Locke where it is.”
“I wasn’t going to do that,” Kate snapped at him, and then stomped back out onto the still damp sand. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t trust me Sawyer.”
“Sweetheart,” he smirked as he yanked on a pair of jeans and boots for the hike, lastly pulling on a dark t-shirt with only a few holes in it. “I might like you, but you’re probably the last soul on this damned island that I’d ever trust. We’re too much alike for that.” After brushing his teeth in a bucket of rain water outside of his lean-to, he handed her one of the prized guns and a box of ammo. “Be like a cat trustin’ a spider not to hunt.”
They left the camp like a pair of ghosts, even Sawyer’s footstep muffled by the natural sounds of the jungle around them. Rain drops trapped in the foliage fell on them as they cut through the dense trees, but no new rain fell with the coming dawn. Sawyer tried to memorize as much of the trail as he could, but so much of the place looked alike to him, black lava, trees, vines, water, more trees, more lava, and yet more rocks. He didn’t ask her if she knew where she was going. He’d lied when he said he didn’t trust her. While he might not trust her heart and her motives, he did trust her sense of direction. There was no way the girl was going to get them lost in the jungle.
“Sheena?” he said after about two hours of silent hiking. He’d already set land marks into his head when he could, and hummed the entire contents of the CD case he’d left in his car back in LA at the airport long term parking where it’d probably been auctioned off by now. “Why don’t we take a break? Sun’s up, and we ain’t had breakfast yet.”
“OK,” she scanned the area, and led him to a fallen palm tree that looked to be a good rest spot. “You’re ok aren’t you? Your shoulder doesn’t hurt does it?”
He grinned sheepishly at her concern. It tickled at the tiny spot of softness left in his armor plated heart more than he’d ever admit to her. “I’m fine, darlin’. I’m just hungry. Wish that plane had dropped some smokes too. Don’t remember the last time I had a cigarette.”
“Well I’m sure the lack of tobacco and alcohol has been good for you.”
“Please don’t remind me,” he ran his fingers through his hair. It was already growing out from the haircut she’d given him when he’d been well enough to go outside. “I have lived most of my life doin’ what’s bad for me. All this healthy livin’ is not what I call livin’.”
“I’m sure you’re missing the morning hack and hangover,” she teased as she pulled a pair of Darma energy bars from her pack, and handed him one. “I kind of like it here. I mean before the others, it was kind of safe.”
“Well except for the damned monster. Hope we don’t run into that thing. Didn’t bring the elephant gun.”
“Hopefully we won’t need anything bigger than what we brought.” Kate gazed out across the small clearing towards the dense jungle that surrounded them. The bright blooms of the hibiscus and other flowers hiding the gods alone knew what.
“Your lips to god’s ears, Freckles. But I do have to admit that I miss the piggy dinners. Shame Locke’s too busy with the Hatch to go huntin’ anymore, and we all know how much I suck at it.”
“That’s just because that deadly smile of yours doesn’t work on the boars.”
“Well I don’t try to use it on the borin’. Does it work on you?” he grinned making her heart catch in her throat. It was times like this that she really wished he was ugly.