Title: One Night Could Change Everything
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sawyer/ Kate
Summary: What if Sawyer and Kate had met before becoming murderers? Sawyer is about to fly to Australia while Kate prepares to blown up Wayne… and then they meet.

I'm not exactly following the show's timeline. Please forgive me.

Warnings: None
Status of fic: WIP
This chapter has been beta-ed by Darbi, to whom I'm extremely grateful. Thank you so much!

#Disclaimer#

I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Lost". They were created by JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and they belong to them, Touchstone, and ABC.

Thanks for reading!

Jenn

Prologue

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, I'm fairly certain I said I'd kill you if I ever saw you again," Sawyer said as he held Hibbs against the wall.

"That's why I'm here, to make things right," the man tried, raising his hands as a peace gesture. "Besides, we both know you ain't the killing type."

Wanting to prove what he was saying, Hibbs pulled an envelope out his pocket and threw it on a table.

"Here. I figure that makes us even for the Tampa job."

"What could possibly make us even for the Tampa job?" Sawyer growled, but he still let go of Hibbs.

"How about the known whereabouts of the man that ruined your life? I'm going to make myself a drink. You want one? You remember old man Parks, right? Ran capper for us on that gig in Atlanta."

"Yeah, what about him?" Sawyer wondered in a hostile way as he seized the envelope and opened it.

"He's been working the wire at an off track parlor down in Sydney. Last week one of his regulars gets a little too sauced, starts running his mouth off about his glory days as a grifter. That guy, Frank Duckett. Real hard luck case - gambling addict, alcoholic, runs a shrimp truck. Back in the day this guy Duckett was quite the hustler. He ran the romance angle, hooked the wife and took the husband for all the money. He was pretty good at it, too, from what I hear. Till, sadly, one of his marks, in despair, took a gun, shot up his wife and blew his own head off. All in front of their little boy. I paid Tony to pull his jacket. Turns out Frank Duckett used to be named Frank Sawyer. A name I believe you appropriated for yourself."

Sawyer found a picture and studied it, a disgusted expression on his face.

"This is him?"

Hibbs nodded.

"That's him."

Chapter 1

Sawyer pushed the restaurant door, worn out and hungry.

The place was just the typical American diner you saw in the movies. Wide windows with the words 'Restaurant' and 'Lunch' painted on them in big yellow letters. A long counter in front of which were at least a dozen stools, a couple of them occupied by truckers taking a pause from their long trips.

Along the windows were several booths. Sawyer let himself fall into one as he continued to scan the place. Yep, classic small town restaurant. All that was missing was the middle-aged, gum-chewing waitress he expected to show up at his table any second now.

Sawyer sighed and ran a tired hand over his eyes. He felt drained, not only physically, but mentally mainly. After Hibbs had left his room the previous night, he had had no desire to go to the bar and get the woman he had been with earlier. No, all he had felt like was jumping into his car and drive away. Drive far, far away.

A totally unexpected reaction, if he had given himself time to ponder on it. Finding Frank Sawyer, the man who had destroyed his life and his parents', had been his goal for the better part of his life. Even if he hadn't actually done anything to locate him in a good while, his hatred for that scumbag was what had kept him going. The fact was, he had nothing else in life but that revenge vow.

He was nothing other than a prospect murderer.

"Hi," Sawyer suddenly heard. He was startled as he raised his eyes to look up at the woman standing near him. He was pleasantly surprised to find out that the waitress actually was a young, long-legged brunette, a far cry from the one he had expected. "Have you made your choice?" she asked.

For a second Sawyer couldn't speak. He had met more than his share of fine-looking women in his life, but few of them could compare to her. She was a quiet, natural beauty. With her long, curly brown hair, full lips and perfect body, she could have been a model. What the hell was she still doing in such a craphole place? She should have been in Paris or Milan, making millions instead of wasting her life in the middle of Iowa. Maybe she was married to the local plumber or something, he figured, but unable to really believe it.

"Yes. I'll have… you," he replied with a naughty grin, hitting on her without really meaning to. It was sort of a reflex, after all those years of making a living out of seducing women.

As if she meant 'Oh, come on', the waitress snorted and rolled her eyes.

Rolled her eyes? Sawyer was bowled over. He would have expected many reactions; a roguish comment, a seductive wink, cheeks turning red, even a slap in the face. But an eye roll? That was a first. He couldn't help but grin widely. The girl had seen right through him, through his ridiculous pick up line. He liked that.

"Okay then, I'll have a beer and a steak sandwich. Please…" He read her name tag and added: "Kate."

A smile played on her lips and she nodded before heading behind the counter where she opened a beer and grabbed a plate on which a hamburger was sitting. Sawyer watched her with interest, his curiosity about her being a welcomed break from his own torment. There was something about that girl… She was different, he felt it. He made a living out of reading people, but her… He just couldn't. And it aroused his curiosity.

The hamburger was destined to a man in his late forties and Kate set it in front of him. But as she turned away to bring Sawyer his beer, the man unceremoniously spanked her rear end. Without hesitation, the young woman pretended to stumble and emptied Sawyer's beer all over the man.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelped.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologized unconvincingly, to Sawyer's delight. "Here, use those napkins."

Sawyer chuckled, liking how the girl had defended herself. Leaving the man to his cleaning attempt, she walked up to Sawyer and, noticing he was silently laughing, she smiled.

"I'll be right back with another beer, sir," she told him.

"As long as you don't drop it on MY lap," he joked.

"Just don't give me any reason to," she replied playfully before walking away. A short moment later, she was back with the beer and his sandwich.

As she bent down a bit, setting the plate on the table, Sawyer noticed her cute freckles and, on an impulse, said:

"Thanks a lot, Freckles."

With a tiny smile she replied, "Enjoy your food, sir."

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The sky was now completely dark but Sawyer kept on looking outside as he ate. Well, truth was he appeared to be looking through the window, when in fact he was watching with interest Kate's reflection in it.

During the last half-hour, she had glanced anxiously at least a dozen times at the clock. She had even picked up the phone and dialled a number, and Sawyer had noticed her obvious concern when no one had answered. What was going on?

Later, when she had came to take back his empty plate and bring him some coffee, he had noticed the dark circles under her green eyes. Yes, something was definitely eating her and at this moment he wanted nothing else but to find out what it was.

So he drank his coffee slowly, hoping he'd learn a few more things about her. It wasn't as though he had anything better to do. Frank Sawyer would keep on selling shrimps a few days longer…

Sawyer's patience was rewarded as he finished his second cup, when a middle-aged, blond woman entered the restaurant. Kate rapidly walked up to her.

"Ma, where have you been?" she asked her. She tried to speak in a low voice, but Sawyer was able to make out what she was saying. "You should have been here over an hour ago! Did he hurt you again?"

"I'm fine, Katherine," the woman replied defensively. "That doesn't concern you."

"How's that wrist?" Kate asked, sounding irritated.

"What, this?" her mother wondered, showing her bandaged wrist. "You know how that shelf in the kitchen sticks out sometimes. You'd think I'd remember it was there, but I banged it."

Even from his point of view, Sawyer could see Kate's shoulder tensing at her mother's obvious lie.

"Don't," she just said coldly.

Her mother sighed, and, before stepping behind the counter, concluded:

"I made my bed, Katherine."

Her reply evidently wasn't to Kate's taste and, without another word, she quickly headed to the back of the restaurant where she pushed an "Employee Only" door.

Figuring Kate's shift was now over, Sawyer extracted a few bills from his wallet and set them on the table to pay for his meal. Somehow, he hated the idea of leaving town without getting to know what was haunting her. He'd bet his last con's earnings that she was bothered with something more than the violence her mother seemed to be facing regularly.

As he got up to leave, the young woman reappeared, crossing the restaurant decidedly. She didn't spare a glance to her mother who called after her:

"Katherine!"

Kate stopped, and, after a second, turned around.

"Where are you going?" her mother asked.

"That doesn't concern you, Ma," she replied, sounding more tired than angry.

"Kate…"

Kate sighed.

"I'm going for a beer, Ma."

She then turned around and left, her mother following her form, sadness evident in her eyes. As the door closed behind her, Sawyer felt an invisible force prompting him to follow the brunette. What was he going to do now anyway? Drive all night? He was too tired to do such thing. He could get a room at the motel he saw while driving into town. Then what? Being in a motel room, alone with his thoughts, wasn't appealing to him at all. Maybe… Maybe he should just head to that bar, too? Another beer didn't sound quite bad right now. Yeah, that was a good idea, he decided.

So Sawyer pushed the restaurant's door as a motorcycle roared out of the parking lot. Hurriedly, he got into his car.

If he had been honest with himself, he would have admitted he was going to the bar only out of curiosity toward that girl. But being true to himself wasn't an habit of his and that was just the way he liked it.

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