This little one shot is set in Season 1, and you would not believe how difficult it is to get into a S1 mind frame! I mean, seriously, I thought it would be a piece of cake, but taking them back to the very beginning and writing them as they were when the show started was a pretty testing task, so let me know if I pulled it off.

Daydreamer

The sun is slowly setting across the horizon and the glow of Sayid's signal fire hovers over the beach camp, a never-ending beacon of hope of warmth; a promise of home they all refuse to let go of. The survivors share this moment quietly, another day passed without a glimpse of rescue. Silently they all take to the beach, each making a corner of it their own as they prepare to bid farewell to another day or hard fought survival, of fears faced, redemption sought and friendships born.

Jack sits back at one end of the camp, resting back onto his elbows, he finally has a moment to catch his breath. He scans the beach and watches his fellow survivors.

Hurley listens, with the never disappearing optimistic grin on his face, to his CD player which surprisingly never loses batter power. Charlie strums his guitar, sending a gentle tune throughout the camp. Claire stands at the edge of the ocean, a hand absent-mindedly rubbing her ever growing belly and she closes her eyes in the cool early evening breeze. Sayid and Shannon share dinner in one of the more secluded parts of camp, Shannon is smiling bashfully, surprisingly and Sayid runs a soft thumb across her cheek. Sawyer takes his place at the mouth of his tent, guarding his stash, a book and a beer in either hand. Jin and Sun sit side by side, silently, and Jin hands his quiet wife a bottle, a gesture she appreciates with a solemn nod. Walt tosses a tennis ball for Vincent to chase under the watchful eye of Michael. Boone and Walt stand over the roasting boar, proud of their day's conquest, and the fine dinner they provided for camp. Farthest down the beach sits Kate, and even though he cannot see her as clearly as he sees everyone else, he knows she had just washed her hair and it sits heavily down her shoulder as opposed to flowing with the wind. He smiles at the thought.

Jack has never been one to day dream. His was a job that could not afford for his mind to wander off as it wished. And even if it were, his father had drilled it in his mind from the most tender of ages, that daydreaming was what losers did, it was what people who wanted to fail and not succeed did. He caught him daydreaming once when he should have been finishing his homework and that earned him a week's grounding.

But now, stuck on a desert island, fighting of Smoke Monsters and polar bears, fighting for their survival every minute of every day, he thinks he deserves to allow his mind to wander off for just a little while, a liberty, a freedom it provides from the sickening world they now call reality.

So Jack allows himself to daydream. And day dream he does. He daydreams of her. A secret get away in the depths of his mind that he would never admit aloud, not even to himself.

He looks back down the shoreline and watches her, pulling her freshly washed hair in a ponytail, and he thinks of how unlike any other woman he ever knew she is; strong, independent, wild, dangerous, free, stubborn, maddening... beautiful. He thinks of what it would be like if he had met her back home, at a bar or a club. With all the other women he had ever been with, he had been the one to make the first move, even after having them throw themselves at him at times. But he never made the first move without careful thought and planning, the pragmatic, rational man that he was. He imagines that with Kate it would be she who would make the first move, by him a drink or ask him to dance. And he would accept, gladly, mesmerized by this green eyed, freckled woman. He imagines what it would be like to dance with her, to wrap his arm around her waist, and hold her hand in his, bodies flush, as they swayed to the music. He imagines her head on his shoulder, resting in the crook of his neck and he pulls her closer, her freshly washed hair smells of guava and tickles his skin. He imagines what it would be like to run his fingers through her hair, warm, soft curls wrapping around his finger smoothly.

He imagines what it would be like to kiss her. He imagines it would be she to first instigate it, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, chastely, one hand on his face, soft fingers against rough, stubbled cheek. He would sigh, his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of her lips against his own and he forgets to breathe to she pulls away after the briefest of moments. He imagines the small smile that would be drawn on her lips when he finally opens his eyes to stare at the glowing emerald of hers. She would take a step to walk away but his hand would be quick, grabbing her elbow gently and pulling her back towards him slowly. His eyes never leaving her lips, he would put a finger under her chin and raise her head up, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss, kissing her with all he had to offer until they were both out of breath.

Jack shakes his head and chuckles, lifting himself up and cleaning his jeans from the sand. He stands in his place for a moment, his eyes leaving the beach to stare back at the ocean, all traces of the setting sun gone, replaced by a dim bluish black, and he can see the first star of the night begin to shine. He clears his mind of any remnants his fairytale land, and makes his rounds around camp, the job of the only island doctor never ending.

Well this was definitely a better way to spend the day at the office than actually work, no?