Absolution
Aug. 2nd, 2006 07:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alliecat8Okay. First, I need some absolution for myself. I'm sorry I said I'd never post fic again, that was stupid and nobody believed me besides me, right? Yeah, that's what I thought. *hides face in shame*
Second, about this fic. It started life sometime last winter as a Sawyer/Kate fic, because I liked the way he was so protective and understanding of her in The Hunting Party. It flowed just fine until Sawyer showed up, then it got stuck, and I finally gave up on it. When I saw![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lostsquee Queen ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
didibreakit's request for Jate today, I wondered if the story would work better if I made some changes and turned it into Jack/Kate. But when Jack showed up, it got stuck again. Then it somehow turned into a fable about seagulls. My interpretation of it (and it's very much open to interpretation) is that it is a Jack/Kate story. I hope the Queen will accept it, even though it might be the strangest offering she receives.
Title: Absolution
Character: Kate
Word Count: 1,087
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through The Hunting Party
Summary: My interpretation? Kate grows up a little, and her relationship with Jack might end up better for it.
Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams
A/N: I have no idea if the seagull myth is true. I heard it once, and it makes a good story. Author's license. ;)
Absolution
Sinner.
She’d always been one, but she’d never confessed. Not until today.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”
The words tasted sour on her tongue, and they brought her no satisfaction. “I’m sorry too,” Jack said, and in his eyes she saw condemnation, not absolution. So Kate did what she always did after she sinned. She cast herself out.
She didn’t need much. She filled her pack with a blanket, a change of clothes, a knife. She had the skills and the knowledge to get by on her own. Kate was nothing if not a survivor.
Wherever she went, she told herself as she set off down the beach, it wouldn’t be far and it wouldn’t be forever. Just far enough that she could no longer hear the disappointment in Jack’s voice. Just for long enough that she would forget the coldness in his eyes.
Keep to the beach, she thought. Evil only lives in the jungle, she lied silently. Beauty lived on the beach. It rained every afternoon now but in the morning the rising sun turned the moisture to mist. Off in the distance, sand and sea disappeared into clouds of swirling white. White meant purity. White meant absolution. She would walk into the shining white cloud and be cleansed.
And so she walked. Sometimes she walked up high, along the dunes where the sand was like powdered sugar beneath her feet. Sometimes she walked down low, and let the cool waves baptize her toes. She walked and walked, until her calves burned and her eyes ached from the bright sparkle of sun on surf, but still the mist eluded her. Still it remained out of reach.
I’ll never get there. The sad thought became a litany, one she could almost hear whispering on the wind, echoing in the roar of the waves. I’ll never be strong enough, never brave enough, never good enough to get to where I want to be. To have what I want to have. I’ll try and try and try, but it will always be just out of reach. Time to stop now. Time to turn around.
Finally, she slowed to a stop. She turned to face the ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to go back, not yet. Last night was still too raw in her memory, still too painful. Images flashed through her mind, images colored by firelight and fear and a red haze of humiliation. The gun at her neck, and Jack’s eyes, locked with those of her captor. The challenge in his expression, the dare. There had been an instant, just a flash but real all the same, when Jack had thought about letting her die. And then he’d surrendered, put down his weapon, turned away. Defeated. Emasculated. He hadn’t looked her in the eye since.
Jack the hero. Jack the protector. And yet it had been Sawyer’s arms that had opened for her when her captor set her free, Sawyer’s hands that had unbound her wrists, Sawyer’s words that had offered her forgiveness.
Sawyer, who said that they were alike. Who thought that their sameness was something that would draw her to him, when instead it was what made her turn away. Sawyer wouldn’t pull her up, he’d only hold her down. She wanted to be above it all, like the white mist floating above the dunes, above the waves. Kate didn’t want to be a fallen angel; Kate wanted to rise.
The water eddied and foamed around her ankles. With each wave, sand closed over her toes, cold and heavy. She was sinking, deeper and deeper. She knew that this was right. Kate wasn’t meant to soar, Kate was meant to crash, to fall to the earth and be buried in it.
She turned her head and looked again at the unattainable glowing mist in the distance. From the cloud emerged the white form of a seagull. She watched it soar and glide, and for a moment she felt heady with its freedom. And then it tucked its wings in tightly and dove toward the sea. It emerged, dripping, and she saw the silver flash of a fish in its beak before it turned and disappeared back into the haze. Time and again she watched white birds sail and dive, sail and dive.
She remembered something her father (not her father, she reminded herself sharply) had told her about seagulls. She had asked him, “How do they do that? How do they find a fish every time they dive?”
“They dive with their eyes open,” Sam Austen had told her. “At first, they find the fish because they see them. But eventually, the necessity of keeping their eyes open as they hit the water makes them go blind.”
“What happens then?” Kate had asked.
“Then their instincts take over,” Sam had told her. “That’s how they survive, on blind instinct, because that’s what they’ve trained themselves to do.”
For years after that she’d thought of seagulls as magical creatures who could defy the rules that limited mere humans, who could soar above the earth and find what they needed to survive based on nothing but sheer instinct. But one day, as she and her father walked along the beach, a gull fell from the sky and landed, dead, on the sand beside them.
She’d stopped and watched the bird, waiting for it to it to rise again, but it lay still, and its eyes were closed. “What happened to him?”
Sam gave her a small, strange smile, one she’d seen more and more often as she got older. “He probably starved,” he said.
“But….” Kate swiped at her eyes, hoping her father would think that the salt air stung them. “What about his instincts?”
Sam shrugged, his shoulders broad and tight under his olive t-shirt. “They’re just like every other living thing. They get older, they get tired, and their instincts fail.”
Not magic, then, Kate had thought. Not mythical. They’re just imperfect creatures like everyone else. She’d bent down and covered the bird with sand, and though part of her felt disappointed, somehow a bigger part of her felt relieved.
Kate watched the gulls until she grew tired of them, and the weight of the sand on her feet grew irritating. With a sharp shake that was both mental and physical, she pulled herself free. She turned away from the ocean, and turned her back on the shining cloud of mist. She began to walk toward home, her eyes wide open.
End
Second, about this fic. It started life sometime last winter as a Sawyer/Kate fic, because I liked the way he was so protective and understanding of her in The Hunting Party. It flowed just fine until Sawyer showed up, then it got stuck, and I finally gave up on it. When I saw
lostsquee Queen didibreakit's request for Jate today, I wondered if the story would work better if I made some changes and turned it into Jack/Kate. But when Jack showed up, it got stuck again. Then it somehow turned into a fable about seagulls. My interpretation of it (and it's very much open to interpretation) is that it is a Jack/Kate story. I hope the Queen will accept it, even though it might be the strangest offering she receives. Title: Absolution
Character: Kate
Word Count: 1,087
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through The Hunting Party
Summary: My interpretation? Kate grows up a little, and her relationship with Jack might end up better for it.
Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams
A/N: I have no idea if the seagull myth is true. I heard it once, and it makes a good story. Author's license. ;)
Absolution
Sinner.
She’d always been one, but she’d never confessed. Not until today.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”
The words tasted sour on her tongue, and they brought her no satisfaction. “I’m sorry too,” Jack said, and in his eyes she saw condemnation, not absolution. So Kate did what she always did after she sinned. She cast herself out.
She didn’t need much. She filled her pack with a blanket, a change of clothes, a knife. She had the skills and the knowledge to get by on her own. Kate was nothing if not a survivor.
Wherever she went, she told herself as she set off down the beach, it wouldn’t be far and it wouldn’t be forever. Just far enough that she could no longer hear the disappointment in Jack’s voice. Just for long enough that she would forget the coldness in his eyes.
Keep to the beach, she thought. Evil only lives in the jungle, she lied silently. Beauty lived on the beach. It rained every afternoon now but in the morning the rising sun turned the moisture to mist. Off in the distance, sand and sea disappeared into clouds of swirling white. White meant purity. White meant absolution. She would walk into the shining white cloud and be cleansed.
And so she walked. Sometimes she walked up high, along the dunes where the sand was like powdered sugar beneath her feet. Sometimes she walked down low, and let the cool waves baptize her toes. She walked and walked, until her calves burned and her eyes ached from the bright sparkle of sun on surf, but still the mist eluded her. Still it remained out of reach.
I’ll never get there. The sad thought became a litany, one she could almost hear whispering on the wind, echoing in the roar of the waves. I’ll never be strong enough, never brave enough, never good enough to get to where I want to be. To have what I want to have. I’ll try and try and try, but it will always be just out of reach. Time to stop now. Time to turn around.
Finally, she slowed to a stop. She turned to face the ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to go back, not yet. Last night was still too raw in her memory, still too painful. Images flashed through her mind, images colored by firelight and fear and a red haze of humiliation. The gun at her neck, and Jack’s eyes, locked with those of her captor. The challenge in his expression, the dare. There had been an instant, just a flash but real all the same, when Jack had thought about letting her die. And then he’d surrendered, put down his weapon, turned away. Defeated. Emasculated. He hadn’t looked her in the eye since.
Jack the hero. Jack the protector. And yet it had been Sawyer’s arms that had opened for her when her captor set her free, Sawyer’s hands that had unbound her wrists, Sawyer’s words that had offered her forgiveness.
Sawyer, who said that they were alike. Who thought that their sameness was something that would draw her to him, when instead it was what made her turn away. Sawyer wouldn’t pull her up, he’d only hold her down. She wanted to be above it all, like the white mist floating above the dunes, above the waves. Kate didn’t want to be a fallen angel; Kate wanted to rise.
The water eddied and foamed around her ankles. With each wave, sand closed over her toes, cold and heavy. She was sinking, deeper and deeper. She knew that this was right. Kate wasn’t meant to soar, Kate was meant to crash, to fall to the earth and be buried in it.
She turned her head and looked again at the unattainable glowing mist in the distance. From the cloud emerged the white form of a seagull. She watched it soar and glide, and for a moment she felt heady with its freedom. And then it tucked its wings in tightly and dove toward the sea. It emerged, dripping, and she saw the silver flash of a fish in its beak before it turned and disappeared back into the haze. Time and again she watched white birds sail and dive, sail and dive.
She remembered something her father (not her father, she reminded herself sharply) had told her about seagulls. She had asked him, “How do they do that? How do they find a fish every time they dive?”
“They dive with their eyes open,” Sam Austen had told her. “At first, they find the fish because they see them. But eventually, the necessity of keeping their eyes open as they hit the water makes them go blind.”
“What happens then?” Kate had asked.
“Then their instincts take over,” Sam had told her. “That’s how they survive, on blind instinct, because that’s what they’ve trained themselves to do.”
For years after that she’d thought of seagulls as magical creatures who could defy the rules that limited mere humans, who could soar above the earth and find what they needed to survive based on nothing but sheer instinct. But one day, as she and her father walked along the beach, a gull fell from the sky and landed, dead, on the sand beside them.
She’d stopped and watched the bird, waiting for it to it to rise again, but it lay still, and its eyes were closed. “What happened to him?”
Sam gave her a small, strange smile, one she’d seen more and more often as she got older. “He probably starved,” he said.
“But….” Kate swiped at her eyes, hoping her father would think that the salt air stung them. “What about his instincts?”
Sam shrugged, his shoulders broad and tight under his olive t-shirt. “They’re just like every other living thing. They get older, they get tired, and their instincts fail.”
Not magic, then, Kate had thought. Not mythical. They’re just imperfect creatures like everyone else. She’d bent down and covered the bird with sand, and though part of her felt disappointed, somehow a bigger part of her felt relieved.
Kate watched the gulls until she grew tired of them, and the weight of the sand on her feet grew irritating. With a sharp shake that was both mental and physical, she pulled herself free. She turned away from the ocean, and turned her back on the shining cloud of mist. She began to walk toward home, her eyes wide open.
End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 01:31 am (UTC)That's an unbelievably sad sentence, but somehow it's also beautiful. I'm always struck by how beautiful your stories are and that even though I am still annoyed with Kate to know end for what she did in The Hunting Party, it kind of makes me understand her a bit more.
I also absolutely love that you called him Sam in descriptions of him and when he's speaking, but when they're walking on the beach, he's described as her father. I loved that.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:22 am (UTC)Thank you for noticing that! She is conflicted about who/what Sam is to her, so I was conflicted about how to write him in the story. I'm glad you thought that the duality worked.
I'm so glad you liked this! It interrupted my "catching up," but I do know there's stuff of yours waiting for me, and that makes me happy. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:40 am (UTC)Aww. That's sweet. That makes me happy too. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:10 am (UTC)I liked the seagull story, too, not so much for the myth but for how you used it. Her father gave her this beautiful thing to believe in, and then shot it down without even realizing it would mean something to her. That seems very symbolic of Kate to me, how she thinks she's this wonderful person, but the reality is different.
I had a little trouble with the characterization at the beginning, the notion that Kate would cast herself out, when everything about her character is centered on having to be in the middle of absolutely everything. But that's just my take on her, and she did go through a lot in the Hunting Party, so it's not entirely outside the realm of possiblity. In a way, not telling Jack about her little adventures in Maternity Leave served the same purpose.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:34 am (UTC)I really don't think that Sam is the sensitive type. And I think that Kate wants to be idealistic, and reality keeps deflating her hopes and dreams. I guess that's kind of what I wanted to show, though I also wanted to show that her idealism can be a burden, too (her idealism about Jack, about Sam, and about herself), and that maybe she can move on better if she just accepts things as being real and imperfect.
I was thinking about a couple of things when I wrote that she "cast herself out." Yes, she always wants to be included, but we've seen her run when she thinks she's been a bad girl. She ran after she killed Wayne, and she ran after she dumped Sawyer on the floor and abandoned the button. She justified her actions both times, and this time she didn't, so that's where my characterization of her veers off from canon. Call it wish-fulfillment. I want to make her feel accountable rather than rationalizing everything. But then, that goes for every single person on the show. ;)
I wonder if the seagull represented Jack, Sam, herself, or all three. (I just write 'em, I don't pretend to understand 'em.) Thank you for reading!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:12 am (UTC)There were so many things that really just hit the character of Kate here.
For someone that rarely reads out of their OTP, I have to tell you, I'm glad I read this, it was fantastic!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:38 am (UTC)I think you and I were posting fic at the same time! My brain has turned to mush, but I'll get back to my reading first thing in the morning! I can't believe I "made" you read Kate fic. ;)
*loves*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 04:21 am (UTC)Oh, well. You did a nice job with her state of mind, her stubbornness and her self-defeating instincts. Of course she'd go off like that when she was rejected. And I like the way you depicted the scene where the captors let her go. It's always bugged me that Jack was so angry, that Sawyer was the one that would be there to open his arms to her, but it's interesting to see you use the word 'emasculated.' I'm sure that had crossed my mind, but I hadn't thought in exactly these terms before. I'm not sure it excuses his lack of forgiveness so much as explains it, but I definitely think that in the course of worrying over it, Kate would see it this way.
Perhaps you should write Kate more often. Oh, wait: you are!
Now I get to use a Jate icon in your LJ *insert evil laugh*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:36 am (UTC)But that's what's so great about fic! I can write her the way I want her to be, so I can like her! I like her when she's facing herself, instead of running from her insecurities.
but it's interesting to see you use the word 'emasculated.'
My husband said that Jack "wanted to be Clint Eastwood" in that scene, but because of Kate, he couldn't say "go ahead, make my day." I think he was just so frustrated with her, he locked her out of his heart for a little while.
Perhaps you should write Kate more often.
Well, you know I "own" her over at fanfic100 as part of my J/K/S claim, right? I'm only 1/4 of the way finished, so there's a pretty good chance I'll keep writing her. Please keep telling me the honest truth about whether or not I'm getting it right, because you and some of the others understand her so much better than I do. THANK YOU for everything you said! *hug*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 04:49 am (UTC)This was so beautiful and sad (although ending on a hopeful note) and so beautifully written. You really made me feel for Kate here. I couldn't bear to have Jack look at me with that disappointed look either! You captured that whole scene so well. And I love the story about the seagull, that fits so well with the overall story.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:39 am (UTC)I'm glad you thought there was hope in the ending. I meant for there to be, but I wasn't sure I got it across the way I wanted to. I think that if Kate takes Jack off the pedestal, they've got a shot at real love. I'm not sure that's what I want, but that's the way I could learn to accept it.
THANK YOU for reading, for liking, and for making my journal prettier with the lovely icon. :D
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 06:03 am (UTC)As I was reading I found myself trying to divorce the story from the Kate on the show and just read it as a story about a girl, someone who I didn't have negative feelings toward already, b/c this is a lovely fic, full of heart and beauty and I wanted to see it clearly, w/out being prejudiced. So I read it again, and did better the second time thru.
The metaphor of the gull is wonderful. Not to be too literal, but is that true? I used to work in wildlife rehab & never heard such a thing. Regardless, it's perfect for this fic, and I love how you use it in the ending. The ending is so satisfying. I'm glad she found the forgiveness she was seeking, that she realized that only she could grant the forgiveness that she needed.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:45 am (UTC)I want to like Kate, and I'm always happy when I see a way to make a bit of sense of her. ;) She is, after all, going to end up with 1/2 of my OTP, so I want her to deserve whichever one she gets. A self-analyzing Kate might be a more mature Kate, and I think all she needs is to grow up some.
As for the seagull story, I don't know if it's true or not. I used to live in Pensacola, and an old fisherman told me that. I saw a dead gull on the beach in St. Augustine when I was there for my brother-in-law's funeral last winter, and it made me remember the story. That was shortly after "The Hunting Party" aired, so the two things sort of got connected in my mind. I'm so glad you liked it! *BIG HUG*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 07:33 am (UTC)And I love the image of this unobtainable mist, that she never feels like she'll be good enough, that she can never reach salvation, she's always going to be tainted, that's so how I see Kate, I think some of it's self-pity, but a lot of it's just this belief that she's never going to be a good person because of where she came from and what she did.
I like the end, with the eyes wide open, because that, in view of this story, almost makes her blind. The instinct for the seagull kicks in once he's blinded himself through experience but then he suffers for it. Kate here has decided she's not going to sacrifice that, she's going to keep her sight but at the same time she's sacrificing her instincts, she's going to do it a different way, presumably with reason rather than blind faith.
There's so much in this and it's too early in the morning for me to really get my head around all of it but you should be very proud, this is deep and beautiful and I really enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:53 am (UTC)I think that the realization that everyone grows up, fails, but survives for as long as they can on instinct is both a source of despair, and in a strange way, a source of hope. She realizes that she -- and Jack -- are not infallible (like the "falling bird), but the fact that they are both real and imperfect makes their relationship a bit more real, too.
but you should be very proud, this is deep and beautiful and I really enjoyed it.
Oh, thank you SO much! I have a lump in my throat from such nice praise. *HUGS all over the place!*
The canonKate to me....
Date: 2006-08-03 09:29 am (UTC)It's about time, Kate would learn something like that.
The canonKate to me is supposed to be kinda a hard-ass, semi-tough, I'm a convict type of chick, but I think that she's just a messed up kid, that's too gullible and somewhat naive. Nobody that I've said that to has agrees with me so far....*blushes* but I just thought I'd put it out there
Glad you posted another story...but make sure to still take care of yourself first. Understand?
~C~
I think I shall use my 'Allie' icon....btw, thanks for it again hun....it makes me smile ;-}
Re: The canonKate to me....
Date: 2006-08-04 04:00 am (UTC)*I* agree with you! Kate is a study in contradictions, and the dichotomy of her bank-robbing daddy-killing persona, in contrast with her confused, people-pleasing, nurturing self, fascinates me even though it frustrates me, as well.
Glad you posted another story...but make sure to still take care of yourself first. Understand?
Yes m'aam. :D I like your nuturing side, too; it makes me feel loved. *hugs*
Re: The canonKate to me....
Date: 2006-08-04 05:30 pm (UTC)Thank you, finally, someone does! It's kinda hard 'here' because I've noticed that people either love or hate Kate, and me? I think she's ok, the character just needs to be 'fleshed' out a bit more and kept on one path. (I just prefer a little Sawyer/Jack action in my fics...LOL)
What can I say...it's the Mom in me. ;-) Plus of course you're loved, silly.
*hugs&smooches*
~C~
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 12:16 pm (UTC)How can something sound so true and sad, and yet so beautiful at the same time?
I think this is an outstanding, poetic story any way you read it, whether you see it as kate/sawyer or Kate/jack or just Kate. It's strange, I used to like Kate for some of the reasons you mention in this fic, her struggle to be better, her suivival instinct, that she thinks she's gonna be a failure even before she starts trying. And then, over the last season, I think I've just lost my patience or the hope that she might ever change.
Not magic, then, Kate had thought. Not mythical. They’re just imperfect creatures like everyone else. She’d bent down and covered the bird with sand, and though part of her felt disappointed, somehow a bigger part of her felt relieved.
But this, if I think of her this way and imagine her feeling like this, then I might actually start hoping again.
Beautiful piece, hon. Thanks for breaking your "vow" and posting it.*loves*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:05 am (UTC)Like you, I found myself giving up hope on her, but re-discovering it as I wrote this. I want her to be redeemable. It really means a lot to me that you loved it. *hugs hard*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 02:21 pm (UTC)I love the poetic stuff, and this is a great example of how it can be great. I enjoyed it thoroughly. and I'm sorry I cannot give better feedback, I'm on the impression that they ^^ said it so much better than I could.
so I nod. and give you a thumb up. *♥*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:48 pm (UTC)I thought it was good feedback. I'll take a thumbs up any day! :D Thank you so much for reading and liking! ♥
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 04:02 pm (UTC)I'm not sure if she's giving up on her instinct, that she's going to change for good, or that she's going to keep trying to fit in until she dies, knowing it's hopeless, but I loved the ending. It was beautifully written.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:21 am (UTC)Maybe that was the "moral" of the story, that everybody is fallible, and that's only natural. I can't answer your implied question about what her epiphany means, because the story felt open-ended and I just left it up to each reader to interpret it how they wanted to. My feeling is that she doesn't worship Jack blindly anymore, and maybe that's good, because if she sees him as only human, she won't feel so inferior. But I don't know if that's the *right* interpretation or not, even though I wrote the story! I am so glad you liked it and found it thought-provoking. That makes me really happy. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 08:34 pm (UTC)Then it somehow turned into a fable about seagulls.
I laughed out loud for about a minute at that...just to let you know :)
I am always amazed by how beautifully you describe the scenery in your work. The description of Kate and the beach that surrounds her here is so eloquent...i love it.
I love the seagull story...true or false!
I accept this story completely, it was fantastic :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:14 am (UTC)I wish I knew whether or not it's true! And I'm so glad that the Queen was satisfied. That made my whole day. *HUGS*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:25 am (UTC)And please don't think that I am ignoring today's Queen! I have a Kate story all mapped out and ready to write, I just need to find the time to do it. I hope that you will like it, too. I'm really interested in Kate right now, so the requests for her at lostsquee are making me and my muse very happy. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-09 01:20 am (UTC)*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-10 02:04 am (UTC)Thank you so much for reading this! I don't know why all these other characters are in my head all of a sudden, but I guess it has to do with all the variety of tastes of the luau queens. I am SO excited about what I'm going to write for you! I'm telling myself that I have to finish the Prophecy series first, or it might get Jossed when the season starts, but (*whine*) I want to get to work on your prompt! Thank you for firing up my muse, and for being patient while I clear out all the clutter before I throw myself totally into your story. *HUG*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-12 05:28 am (UTC)The only bone I will pick with you concerns this: Sawyer wouldn’t pull her up, he’d only hold her down. I've come to think that they would pull each other up, and if it weren't 1:30 in the morning, I would tell you why I think that. But it is, so I will say that the ficlet is lovely beyond description and then, goodnight!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-12 05:24 pm (UTC)As for your "bone to pick," let me reiterate something I think I've mentioned before. This is a tough thing to do when you're a writer, and you have your own notions and opinions. I agree with you, that Sawyer could pull Kate up, and vice versa, if they could teach each other to trust, and if they could both find a common foundation to grow on. BUT, when I write, the "self" in me has to take a back seat, and I have to think about how my character sees things right in that moment. I think Kate is still locked in the Sam/Wayne, Jack/Sawyer comparison, and so she can't see the potential that she might have with Sawyer. She hasn't given it a chance yet, so it hasn't had a chance to surprise her. (Or, at least, she hasn't seen the glimmers of hope that *we*, the viewers, have seen.) So, I think it makes sense that she'd still be seeing Jack as her way to better herself, and Sawyer as a way to stay stuck on the "wrong side of the tracks." Does that make sense?
There's plenty of room, of course, for later fics where she has a revelation that that preconception is wrong. I look forward to reading, and possibly even writing, some of those. :)
BIG HUGS for reading this at 1:30 in the morning! *loves*