(no subject)
Title: Victim Of Another's War
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Kate.
Word Count: 647
Rating: R
Summary: AU-ish from S4. He ignores the first three knocks until he gets a "maid service" out of the woman on the other side of the door and his brain flashes a face to connect with the voice.
The weather report wakes him. Dreary, grey skies and cold. Welcome to Boston. He doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of it, simply hits a button. He hasn’t seen the outside of the hotel room since he landed.
He turns on the shower before his eyes have even adjusted to the light. No time for lying in this unfamiliar bed. He just wants to get from point A to B.
Even over the spray he can hear the maid come down the hall, the squeak of the cart wheels easily audible through paper thin walls.
He ignores the first three knocks until he gets a “maid service” out of the woman on the other side of the door and his brain flashes a face to connect with the voice.
“Kate.”
---
“I don’t even get a ‘how’ve you been’?” Her skin is pale in contrast to the grey of her uniform. She looks nothing like the island.
“I think I’ve heard enough from the news.” He doesn’t ask why a woman who was part of a multi-million dollar settlement, split six ways, is now working as a maid in the middle of Boston.
---
This probably has very little to do with him.
He isn’t stupid. He learned many times over on the island that Kate’s actual motives are very rarely anything like they appear. It’s a lesson he’s not likely to forget. Even if he prefers to think maybe this time it will be different.
The only thing left to figure out is what exactly it is that she’s after.
---
“I thought you weren’t practicing anymore?” She’s deduced that he’s here for the medical conference downstairs. It’s only a time occupier, an excuse to get away from L.A.
“Here and there.” Noncommittal, accented with the clink of his glass. He’s always felt comfortable at hotel bars.
“You’re still angry.” She says it as fact, more importantly one she’s just figured out.
Looks like she’s finally paying attention.
---
“I need your help.”
This is where it truly starts.
---
“If you would just tell me what you need - “
She doesn’t want to hear it. “All I need is for you to keep him occupied.”
Kate’s got an eye on a tiny silver key. She doesn’t say what it’s for.
Jack is Jack, he falls for these things. Sees with his heart instead of his head. Even if he knows she’s feeding him half-truths.
He helps her anyways.
---
“I thought they acquitted you?”
She finishes pulling her tank over hear head as she walks out of the bathroom. “Of killing Wayne.” Which means that isn’t all of it.
“Doesn’t sneaking around just make you seem more suspicious?”
She sighs, gives him a hard look. “Why are you still asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to Jack?”
---
“But you’ve only been working here a week.” The manager is beyond agitated. Jack knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Just like he shouldn’t have helped her.
“Sorry, it just wasn’t working out.”
It’s what he thought; she planned this out from the start.
---
“Jack did you hear me?” He looks at her, a sign he’s listening now. “I said I’m leaving.”
Of course she is. She got what she wanted. And he got burned once again. Got used.
Her eyes find tan carpet. “I don’t get a goodbye either?”
She wouldn’t like his goodbye. Not at this point. All she gets is a question. “Why are you like this?” Loosely translated, why must she fuck this up every time?
There’s no real thought in her answer. It’s just an excuse. “Because it’s the only way I know how to be.”
She walks back out of his life ten seconds later and a large part of him wishes that it was for the last time.
But this isn’t over.
This is merely intermission.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Kate.
Word Count: 647
Rating: R
Summary: AU-ish from S4. He ignores the first three knocks until he gets a "maid service" out of the woman on the other side of the door and his brain flashes a face to connect with the voice.
The weather report wakes him. Dreary, grey skies and cold. Welcome to Boston. He doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of it, simply hits a button. He hasn’t seen the outside of the hotel room since he landed.
He turns on the shower before his eyes have even adjusted to the light. No time for lying in this unfamiliar bed. He just wants to get from point A to B.
Even over the spray he can hear the maid come down the hall, the squeak of the cart wheels easily audible through paper thin walls.
He ignores the first three knocks until he gets a “maid service” out of the woman on the other side of the door and his brain flashes a face to connect with the voice.
“Kate.”
---
“I don’t even get a ‘how’ve you been’?” Her skin is pale in contrast to the grey of her uniform. She looks nothing like the island.
“I think I’ve heard enough from the news.” He doesn’t ask why a woman who was part of a multi-million dollar settlement, split six ways, is now working as a maid in the middle of Boston.
---
This probably has very little to do with him.
He isn’t stupid. He learned many times over on the island that Kate’s actual motives are very rarely anything like they appear. It’s a lesson he’s not likely to forget. Even if he prefers to think maybe this time it will be different.
The only thing left to figure out is what exactly it is that she’s after.
---
“I thought you weren’t practicing anymore?” She’s deduced that he’s here for the medical conference downstairs. It’s only a time occupier, an excuse to get away from L.A.
“Here and there.” Noncommittal, accented with the clink of his glass. He’s always felt comfortable at hotel bars.
“You’re still angry.” She says it as fact, more importantly one she’s just figured out.
Looks like she’s finally paying attention.
---
“I need your help.”
This is where it truly starts.
---
“If you would just tell me what you need - “
She doesn’t want to hear it. “All I need is for you to keep him occupied.”
Kate’s got an eye on a tiny silver key. She doesn’t say what it’s for.
Jack is Jack, he falls for these things. Sees with his heart instead of his head. Even if he knows she’s feeding him half-truths.
He helps her anyways.
---
“I thought they acquitted you?”
She finishes pulling her tank over hear head as she walks out of the bathroom. “Of killing Wayne.” Which means that isn’t all of it.
“Doesn’t sneaking around just make you seem more suspicious?”
She sighs, gives him a hard look. “Why are you still asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to Jack?”
---
“But you’ve only been working here a week.” The manager is beyond agitated. Jack knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Just like he shouldn’t have helped her.
“Sorry, it just wasn’t working out.”
It’s what he thought; she planned this out from the start.
---
“Jack did you hear me?” He looks at her, a sign he’s listening now. “I said I’m leaving.”
Of course she is. She got what she wanted. And he got burned once again. Got used.
Her eyes find tan carpet. “I don’t get a goodbye either?”
She wouldn’t like his goodbye. Not at this point. All she gets is a question. “Why are you like this?” Loosely translated, why must she fuck this up every time?
There’s no real thought in her answer. It’s just an excuse. “Because it’s the only way I know how to be.”
She walks back out of his life ten seconds later and a large part of him wishes that it was for the last time.
But this isn’t over.
This is merely intermission.