“X Marks the Spot”
Lost
Sawyer/Kate
Rating: PG-13
Just a fic, no real spoilers
He’s drawing in the sand again. In his right hand, he’s holding a thin tree branch. He moves his arm up and down in slow—sometimes jerky, sometimes smooth—motions. He’s alone under the moonlight. The ocean waves rise and fall behind him.
“Sawyer.”
He looks up at the sound of her voice.
“How long you been watching me, Freckles?” he asks.
She doesn’t deny his claim. Only walks over to him on the beach.
They’re far away from the others in the camp. Most of them probably sleeping by now.
She looks over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Drawing me a treasure map.” He points to it with his stick, proud to show off his creation. “What do you think?”
She tilts her head. “It’s just a bunch of lines and scribbles.”
“Ah, to you maybe, but to me,” he waves his hand, “it’s art.”
She’s amused by this. A small smile spreads on her face. “Well, I never you knew you were an artist.”
“Now, everyone’s an artist,” he says. “Anyone can create something.”
“Like how you always cause trouble?” she says with a smirk.
He shares her humor. “Just one of my many artistic endeavors, sweetheart.”
“Endeavor,” she mumbles shaking her head. Her gaze moves to the ocean.
“You know, when I was kid, I always wanted to live by the water, by the ocean,” he says. “Guess it all worked out, huh?”
She looks back at him. “I hate the water.”
He’s surprised. “Everyday you’re always looking out to that damn ocean.”
She lowers her eyes. “Yeah, but…” Her voice trails off.
He leaves it at that.
“You gonna visit the doc tomorrow?” he asks.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Just wonderin’. That’s all.”
“I think Jack’s bringing down water tomorrow,” she says. And then: “Don’t do anything, okay?”
His eyes widen. “Whadda ya’ll think I’m gonna do?”
“Perform one of your artistic endeavors.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Freckles. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“That’s what worries me.” She kneels down next to what Sawyer was drawing. “So, tell me about this treasure map.”
He kneels next to her and points with his stick. “See that line? That’s where you start. You follow this curve and it goes all the way here, you see. Take that and it leads you to Dead Man’s Bluff—”
She giggles. “Dead Man’s Bluff?”
“Hey, you gonna pay attention or what?”
Her face becomes serious, but her eyes are still laughing. “Sorry. Keep going.”
“As I was saying, Dead Man’s Bluff is a tricky spot. It’s got booby-traps and dead ends and—”
“Polar bears?” she interrupts.
He lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Sorry,” she says again.
He moves the stick down the grooves in the sand. “Once you get through there, that’s where you’ll find the treasure.”
“But I don’t see it.” She points to the abrupt ending of the line. “Shouldn’t there be an X marking the spot?”
He smiles. “You’re sitting on it.” He lets go of his stick and raises his free hands to her.
She watches him come closer; he moves in slow motion.
His hands are warm against her skin. One on her bare shoulder. The other under her tank top. She lets him in. His fingers gently slide down her skin in long lines, short lines, curves, straight, up hills and then back down. They clutch the long dark curls behind her back and the fabric in front of her. His mouth hovers over hers, but the only contact they have is their breath meeting in mid-air. He drops his mouth to her neck, scattering light kisses here and there. He pulls down the straps on her shoulder and his mouth makes a mark there too.
She moans, whispers, “What are you doing?”
“Drawing me a treasure map,” he says.
THE END