A/N: Cleaning up my files, I found some old Lost fanfic I never posted here.

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The low, lightly flickering campfire placed a barrier between Kate and Jack, but it wasn't that dying heat that separated them now. Jack lay on one side of the carefully contained fire just inches from a slumbering Juliet. Their bodies did not touch but Kate did not fail to witness their closeness, the way Jack curled towards her and Juliet spooned away; not touching, not touching, but ever so near. On the other side of the fire she lay inches from Sayid, who had drifted off to sleep at last with his arm straight down beside his body and atop his rifle, his hand clasping the stock. Kate, who had lain down for just a moment to rest upon her side, could feel the handgun, safely locked, pressing against the small of her back where she kept it lodged in her waistband.

Jack had asked for the gun. They had been about half a mile outside the Other's village when he had finally dropped back from Juliet, had finally deigned to grace her side. He had reminded her of the time they had been caught together in Ben's net, and of what an excellent shot he had been. His assertion of his skill irked her, but it also reminded her of a time when she had been of greater importance in his eyes. This was something she could give him. She had hesitated as she looked down at the gun in her hand, reluctant to relinquish the steel power that felt so natural against her flesh, and she had begun to turn the gun to offer it butt first when Sayid commanded from behind her, "No. Kate will keep the handgun. I will keep the rifle."

Sayid, Kate knew, did not trust Juliet, and rightly so. But because Jack insisted on bringing her, that meant Sayid also did not trust Jack. Kate had not lost her faith in the doctor, at least, not her faith in his loyalty to the group. She understood, however, Sayid's reluctance. The Iraqi's confidence in Kate, his straightforward assumption that she could be trusted to bear the only other firepower among them, did not boost her self-esteem the way it would have done if Jack had suggested it. When Sayid put his faith in her, the fact seemed unnoteworthy. After all, he had never expressed doubt in her abilities the way Jack had done. It was true Sayid had sought to protect her once: in those early days, he had wanted to shield her from Sawyer, saying he did not trust the man. Yet his offer of protection had been spoken without condescension, and when she had asserted herself, he had moved on without further comment.

Now, Kate tried not to look across the fire. But again and again her head felt drawn to its side, so that her weary blue eyes penetrated the undulating flames and beheld the pair lying side by side. She closed her eyes against the sight, and eventually sleep overtook her.

She awoke sometime in the night. She was not startled awake; rather, she felt herself gradually rising to consciousness, and she found herself pressed against Sayid's side, her arm draped across his stomach. The man's sleep was unusually deep, and he did not stir. He felt warm and firm beneath her arm.

Kate thought of the time Sayid had run away from himself, the way she had been running away from herself for years. She had blamed Jack for Sawyer's torture more than she had blamed him. Sayid she had bid farewell, warmly, and with an understanding she wondered if he appreciated. She thought he had, for he had taken her hand softly in his own, and he had raised it to his lips. They were surprisingly soft lips, light and lingering on her pale skin. The gentleman's act, the small touch of ancient gallantry, had not seemed strange even though the hand that clasped hers had moments ago sharpened bamboo. Kate had never dwelled on Sayid's darker self the way he had dwelled on it, which, after all, was the same way she had dwelled on her own.

Instinctively, Kate trailed her fingers to the edge of Sayid's shirt. She didn't feel strong when she was with him because she didn't think about feeling strong when she was with him. In Sayid's presence, she had nothing to prove. Yet with Sawyer, she always trying to wrest some power, and with Jack, she was always trying to make some impression. Sawyer, in his darker moments, was like the father she had burned alive; Jack, like the responsible man who had raised her as his own. Why had she been searching for a father when she should have been searching for a lover?

Half asleep, and momentarily unable to think rationally in the aftermath of all that was irrational, she slipped her hand beneath Sayid's shirt. She trailed her fingers slowly across his taut stomach. She began to move her hand upwards to caress the sinews of his chest, though she could not see its deliciously bronze hue in the darkness that surrounded them. Lazily she grazed her fingertips across him, until she felt the sudden, painful grip of his hand upon her wrist. He flipped her roughly onto her back and threw his weight against her, pinning her beneath himself. His face drew near to hers, and she could feel against her cheek the hot breath of his startled panting, followed by his relieved sigh. He loosened his grip, and he freed her from his weight. "I am sorry," he said. "I thought perhaps…the Other…" He had refused to call Juliet by name however many times Jack had corrected him.

Kate felt the beat of her heart settle into a normal rhythm. She looked into Sayid's eyes and saw the relief give way to confusion. "What were you doing?" he asked.

"I lay down for just a little while…I…fell asleep, and I must have rolled against you…"

Sayid pulled himself into a sitting position. "It is nearly time for my watch anyway."

"I'll finish mine," Kate insisted. "You were kept chained outside for so long…you must be exhausted. And I doubt you've slept much since…" She didn't say it. Death was the word that everyone felt and no one named.

"You have not suffered any less. You look weary, Kate. Please, allow me to take the watch."

Strange, thought Kate, but accepting Sayid's generosity never seemed to require humility. "Thank you," she said, "Thank you, I'd like to sleep a little more."

Sayid took hold of his rifle and slid his back against a tree. Kate glanced one more time across the fire, where Juliet had turned towards Jack in a face to face posture of intimacy. Still the pair did not touch. Kate turned in the other direction before lying down. She heard Sayid shift against the earth as he drew his knees up, probably to rest his rifle across them.

Confident in the knowledge that Sayid stood watch, Kate surrendered to sleep.

The End