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valentine's ficlet # 1 - Lost - Sawyer with a little Sawyer/Kate implied
The first Valentine's ficlet request was from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shivedheart who wanted Lost, Sawyer, preferably Sawyer/Kate.
If you want one, just let me know. Offer good throughout today!
Sawyer finds himself dreaming even when he’s awake these days. He’s asked the doc if that’s a side effect to all the antibiotics and painkillers they have him on and Jack looks at him like he has three heads. Jack feels Sawyer’s forehead, testing for a fever, and responds the same way every time Sawyer asks. “You’re imagining things.”
“That’s the problem right there, doc. I am imagining things,” Sawyer responds, but Jack never hears him, or if he does, ignores it as one of Sawyer’s rantings.
Usually the dreams don’t bother him. Usually the dreams are almost enjoyable. But then the lines of the fantasy and reality start to blur and Sawyer can’t help but question every abnormal thing that happens to him in a day. And frankly, that’s tiring because almost everything on the god forsaken island is abnormal – visions of Walt, horse sightings, a group of rednecks living on the opposite end of the island – and it’s all making his head hurt.
Sawyer finds himself alone with Kate. Alone with Kate in a way that she’s avoided since their skinny-dipping outing weeks ago. Alone with Kate without liquor or drugs or smartass comments to keep him grounded in the here and now. It throws Sawyer off his game – not sure what to make of things when Kate’s hair brushes against his shoulders and her lips get closer and closer to his.
Sawyer’s definitely not sure when the fuck he’s become noble or whatever because he stops her. He places his hands on her shoulders as though to let her down easy and says, “Now, now Freckles, I’m nobody’s consolation prize.”
“What?”
“Like I don’t know you already tried this move with everyone’s favorite doctor. Word spreads fast on this island.”
For her part, Kate looks embarrassed. Beautiful, but embarrassed and Sawyer doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s one of the things that intrigue him about Kate – that he doesn’t know what to make of her. Most women, hell, most people, are easy to categorize, easy to pinpoint as possible marks, but Kate can play vulnerable and then hit you over the head with the butt of a gun.
“I reckon you’re smarting from the doctor’s frequent trips to visit the resident she-bitch from the tail of the plane.”
“Shut up, Sawyer.”
He smirks. He smirks because he’s not capable of doing anything else in the moment or he’s likely to pin Kate to a tree and have his way with her. It’s beyond even him why he’s doing this, why he won’t enjoy the moment and allow it to be a mistake Kate castigates herself for later. Lord knows it’s been a long time for him and that Kate is prettier than some of his other options out there. Hell, he can’t pretend he hasn’t imagined what it would be like with her either.
But something stops him. It’s the damn island. He’s never sure of what’s real and what’s not anymore. The island likes to trick people, likes to get them to share their secrets, and Sawyer will be damned if he falls for that. Real or not.
“I’m not in the mood, Freckles. Maybe tomorrow,” he replies, walking off toward the beach and pretending not to hear the very real obscenities that come out of her mouth.
{Fin}
shivedheart who wanted Lost, Sawyer, preferably Sawyer/Kate. If you want one, just let me know. Offer good throughout today!
Sawyer finds himself dreaming even when he’s awake these days. He’s asked the doc if that’s a side effect to all the antibiotics and painkillers they have him on and Jack looks at him like he has three heads. Jack feels Sawyer’s forehead, testing for a fever, and responds the same way every time Sawyer asks. “You’re imagining things.”
“That’s the problem right there, doc. I am imagining things,” Sawyer responds, but Jack never hears him, or if he does, ignores it as one of Sawyer’s rantings.
Usually the dreams don’t bother him. Usually the dreams are almost enjoyable. But then the lines of the fantasy and reality start to blur and Sawyer can’t help but question every abnormal thing that happens to him in a day. And frankly, that’s tiring because almost everything on the god forsaken island is abnormal – visions of Walt, horse sightings, a group of rednecks living on the opposite end of the island – and it’s all making his head hurt.
Sawyer finds himself alone with Kate. Alone with Kate in a way that she’s avoided since their skinny-dipping outing weeks ago. Alone with Kate without liquor or drugs or smartass comments to keep him grounded in the here and now. It throws Sawyer off his game – not sure what to make of things when Kate’s hair brushes against his shoulders and her lips get closer and closer to his.
Sawyer’s definitely not sure when the fuck he’s become noble or whatever because he stops her. He places his hands on her shoulders as though to let her down easy and says, “Now, now Freckles, I’m nobody’s consolation prize.”
“What?”
“Like I don’t know you already tried this move with everyone’s favorite doctor. Word spreads fast on this island.”
For her part, Kate looks embarrassed. Beautiful, but embarrassed and Sawyer doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s one of the things that intrigue him about Kate – that he doesn’t know what to make of her. Most women, hell, most people, are easy to categorize, easy to pinpoint as possible marks, but Kate can play vulnerable and then hit you over the head with the butt of a gun.
“I reckon you’re smarting from the doctor’s frequent trips to visit the resident she-bitch from the tail of the plane.”
“Shut up, Sawyer.”
He smirks. He smirks because he’s not capable of doing anything else in the moment or he’s likely to pin Kate to a tree and have his way with her. It’s beyond even him why he’s doing this, why he won’t enjoy the moment and allow it to be a mistake Kate castigates herself for later. Lord knows it’s been a long time for him and that Kate is prettier than some of his other options out there. Hell, he can’t pretend he hasn’t imagined what it would be like with her either.
But something stops him. It’s the damn island. He’s never sure of what’s real and what’s not anymore. The island likes to trick people, likes to get them to share their secrets, and Sawyer will be damned if he falls for that. Real or not.
“I’m not in the mood, Freckles. Maybe tomorrow,” he replies, walking off toward the beach and pretending not to hear the very real obscenities that come out of her mouth.
{Fin}