Driftwood
By Lia Grace

Part 1 | Part 2

Lost // Jack/Kate // Nc-17

It's no use deceiving
Neither of us wanna be alone ~ Damien Rice

Us, you and me
River, sea, ocean ~ Badly Drawn Boy

Sleeping arrangements were the test. Some people, the couples and the families staked out the shelters, bits of metal and canvas. Others were left to make friends and attempt to find a place close to the fire, relying on the kindness that a crash brings out in people.

Kate lingered at the fire’s edge, listening to people, telling their stories. Not saying anything for the fear that she would be asked to share her own was too great. She liked how the fire made everyone glow, just like her school camping trips from way back. She use to be so scared then, of everything that was new and different. Now, she always craves the normalcy that has escaped her. Something calming about the people, bonding; in the future there will be fights and blame, but now the serenity of shock.

She hears the shifting of sand beside her, and her shoulder tenses instantly, body poised to run. Taking a breath, she glances over, and Jack has sat beside her. He smiles at her, softly and with such kindness, her heart jumps. After he saw the mug shot, she though everything would change, that she would become the scapegoat of the survivors. But then he told her that everyone deserves a fresh start, and she felt linked to him from then on. A sort of bond, as she smiles back at him.

People are eating, food scavenged from luggage and the fruit that grows by the forest edge. It’s the one thing people are not so willing to share, given the small amount of it. Others have spent a good part of the day finding some, but she’s been off canvassing the forest with Sayid. Content with her granola bar that Clare gave to her, after she arrived back; settles back and begins to eat.

"Here."

She turns to see Jack holding out what looks to be a slightly under-ripe mango. He grins again, and hands it to her. She feels the heavy weight of the fruit in her hand, belly rebelling and making noise.

"Thank you. I’ll spilt it with you."

"I’ve got a pocket knife back at the med tent, I’ll go grab it."

He gets up, sand clinging to his pants and palms. Glancing at the people around the fire, all involved in conversation or food. No one would notice if she left, not that she cares, but people talk, and the last things she wants to be in the token island slut. Seeing how adept Shannon is at manipulating the guys, she maybe shouldn’t worry so much.

"I’ll come with you, legs are stiff anyway."

He watches her get up, a genuinely open face. She’s happy to see him reach down to help her up, but find that’s she already on her feet. He leads the way, from the fire past the charred wreckage over the low dune to the now empty med tent.

"Have you been staying out here?"

He looks back at her, slightly lit by the smaller fires of the tents ringing the wreckage.

"Yeah, I don’t know, like the quiet I guess."

The hero always has to be introspective, she tells herself, as he disappears into the tent. Has to be somewhat of a loner, thinking back on the long gash on his side, closed up in her shaky stitches. She wonders if it’s healing up right, all the exertion can’t be good. But if she asked, what would he think?

Pausing, as Jack reappears with a knife, he starts to cut and peel the fruit. She’s never been shy around men, not since college, not since she learned that with a smile she could get away with anything. Something about him makes he revert to that girl in a blue cardigan smiling at the boy who sat next to her in Intro to Economics freshman year.

He hold out his hand, glancing up at his eyes for a moment, then taking a piece of the fruit. Tart, but a tasty change from the dry granola she’s been eating for the last few days. He’s leaning up against the hut, the tree gently blowing in the night wind of the beach. Licking her fingers, one at a time; she sees him laugh, a warm full body laugh. Flushing slightly, she turns towards him, knees almost touching.

"What?"

"Nothing - just. Never mind."

"No, what?"

He’s still smiling, resting back, legs slightly bent. She wonders if they should light a fire, she see traces of one. The night is cool, and it just might rain, with the way the breeze feels heavy.

"Just, that you looked so content, eating."

She pulls her knees to her chest, burrowing her feet under the sand. She doesn’t know how reply, maybe to hint at the tension that underlies this moonlight meeting.

"Should we build a fire?"

Way to go Katherine, she thinks. What is a more off topic thing you could have said. He looks at her for a moment, then gets up and begins to arrange the leftover wood.

"That didn’t mean you had to do it all yourself."

"It’s okay, was a good idea. It gets chilly at night."

"Yeah, I’ll get some more wood."

"Over there, should be a stack."

Standing up, scattering sand everywhere. She piles some wood into her arms, turning to look at him, the first flushes of light emanating from the fire. She can clearly see the cuts on his cheek, almost mirroring the ones on hers. Wonders if he’d flinch if she touched them, softly.

"Thanks. But you don’t have to stay if you want, it’s getting late. As far as I can tell."

She follows his gaze over her shoulder as she stoops down to hand him the wood. The fires wink in the blackness, most people have scattered from the main fire except for those in charge of keeping it going.

"No reason not too."

"Just that people talk, I don’t want you to - "

"I want to stay, with you Jack."

The words hover in the air, sweeping away with the dark gray smoke from the fire. He goes into the tent, she’s alone by the fire, stuck with words she might want to take back. But really, inside she know that she meant them.

"Here."

Looking up, he hands her a jacket, she doesn’t ask from where, but it smell slightly clean. She pulls it on, way to big for her, wrapping it around her body. He has one on too, motions for her to move closer, blanket in one hand.

She moves next to him, thighs touching as he lays the blanket across both of their laps. She feels silly, not saying anything, just staring at him, wondering what he’s thinking. He’s looking at her, and she adverts her gaze for a moment.

"I can go if you want, if this makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it’s fine. We all need some company some nights."

A horribly vague admission of feelings from the both of them, she thinks, what a pair we are. Then his arm slips behind her back, and her head instinctually falls to his shoulder. Not a word as she listens to his heart beat, feeling his breath on her head, hand on her arm. He’s warm, not that it’s cold out, but she feels cold everywhere he isn’t touching her.

Her brain babbles, telling her how stupid this is, how she should just get up and go sleep somewhere else, alone. Attachment was always her weakness, she couldn’t see past the kindness to see the real motives. This island was doing silly things to her, seemingly redeeming her. She turns her head, resting on his chest, smelling like salt.

He doesn’t say anything, just long slow inhales of breath fill her ears and the sea seems distant. She lets her eyes close, but her nerves are still tense; partly cause of the man she was resting against and partly cause of the thing that lurked off in the forest.

Time passes; a few moments, or an hour. Maybe she slept for a bit, warm and comfortable. Or she just rested in his arms.

She shifts against him, trying to find a comfortable spot, raising her head. Eyes open, and she sees his so close, faces almost touching. Blinking, once - twice, he’s looking right at her. He brings his free hand over, smoothing the wisps from her face. Same rough hands as always, leaving streaks of warmth in their wake. She smiles, lowering her eyes for a moment, the fire glows red from the hot coals.

In that moment he chooses to kiss her, as soft and delicate as wind burned lips can be. With the odd angle, he ends up kissing the left corner of her mouth and a good portion of her cheek, but she doesn’t mind, ‘cause the second kiss more then makes up for the minor slipup of the first.



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