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in_the_blueSpike Spiegel and Kate Austen, as requested.
Run, run, run, Kate. It came from over there. Her hand reaches up to shield her eyes from the rain; she can just make out the trail of dark smoke through the downpour. What are they doing back at the beach? I thought there was only one helicopter. As she nears the clearing, she stops: that's not a helicopter. In fact, she's never seen a plane like that before.
The top flips open: a man stands in the cockpit, looks up at the rain with a scowl on his face, then jumps out.
"Shit. Fucking rain: don't do that."
Muttering beneath his breath, he digs around in his pocket for a smoke and a light: that's better. "Hey. You. Over there behind the trees: where the hell am I?"
Eyes narrowing, she scrambles for her own handgun and holds it out before her: the thing about this island is that she's already been burned too many times and no one can be trusted. "Stay right where you are."
"Yo." Blowing a line of smoke up into the rain, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Shit, he didn't even do anything yet and this girl, whoever she is, already has a gun pointed at him. Oh well. Whatever happens happens. "Like I have anywhere to go. Like I wanted to crash my ship."
Kate steps forward, gun still held steady: no one else is around yet. With any luck, the noise of the rain and the thunder in the distance blotted out the sound of this ship crashing. Even if it didn't, she has a head start, although there's no telling where the Others might be hiding any more. They're not back in their village from where, she reminds herself, Locke banished her. "Who are you?"
Taking a last drag off his cigarette, he smiles... but just barely "I'm just a humble bounty hunter, ma'am." Slowly, his hands come out of his pockets; he raises them in the universal gesture of don't fucking shoot me, all right? "Where the hell are we? Looks like Earth."
"Of course it's Earth. Don't be stupid: where else would we be?" This guy is either really smart or a real idiot, but real idiots don't get to pilot -- or crash -- planes that look like that one.
Cautiously, the guy scratches his chin. "I don't know. Could be Europa. There's jungles kind of like this on Ganymede too. But it's the sky that's the dead giveaway. No blue skies like this in the rest of the damn solar system. If you're lucky, you might get a hint of it at the end of dawn on Mars." But he lets out a short and bitter laugh as a raindrop hits him square in the eye. "I guess calling the sky blue was a little optimistic. No climate control station, huh?"
Slowly, Kate lowers her gun just a little: he's serious. "Keep your hands where I can see them."
"I like a woman who can kick my ass." He raises his hands again back to standard innocent position just as the rain starts to let up. "Hey. Maybe I was right about the blue skies after all: how 'bout that. What's your name?" He spits out the cigarette -- crushing it with the toe of his boot -- as if being held at gunpoint is the most normal thing in the world.
"Kate. Kate Austen. Now yours." The gun levels again, but she's honestly not sure what to do with it right now except wait and see. Locke would probably have the guy tied up already; Sayid might have cracked his head open; Sawyer... well, Sawyer would have stolen his wallet. That would be some help.
"Kate Austen. That's kind of a strong name, for a strong woman. I like it." Taking a step forward, he lowers his hands. "Spike Spiegel." He glances over his shoulder at the Swordfish, shaking his head ruefully. "Doohan's going to kill me. Usually when I try to land in Texas, I land in Texas."
Kate motions him over toward her. "Who's Doohan? Is he one of Charles Widmore's guys?"
The man named Spike -- is that hair of his green or is it just reflecting the trees? -- opens his mouth to say something, shakes his head, reaches for another cigarette. "Widmore? Never heard of him."
"And you're a bounty hunter." She's had it with being chased: you'd think surviving a plane crash for ninety days would give a girl a little bit of reprieve. "Are you here for me? Did Mars send you?"
"Huh." Breathing in deeply then exhaling smoke, he shrugs. "I haven't been to Mars for... uh... well, shit, it's been a couple months maybe."
"So you knew him."
"Knew who?"
"Mars."
"I was born on Mars. Never met anyone named after the place, though." His shrug is so nonchalant she can hardly stand it.
"Edward Mars: the federal marshal. He was on the plane with me when it crashed. You know: Oceanic 815. That's what you're here for, isn't it? That's what everyone's here for." Or at least that's what they thought until Miles piped up about being here for Ben.
Spike just laughs, smokes, runs a hand through his hair, examines the leaves on a nearby branch. "Looks like your past is catching up with you." But he scratches his head, gives Kate another little smile. "I know how that feels. Don't take it personal, but I'm not here for you. I'm here for ship repairs... or I would be if this was Doohan's place. He's the guy who built my ship." Wiping his hands off on his pants, he looks around, eyes narrowed. "He's out near... the old Johnson Space Center. Houston. The NASA place: you heard of it?"
What? That doesn't make any sense. "Of course I've heard of it, but it's not old. It's still active. And you're way off course."
"How 'bout that." His hand moves to cover his stomach; it growls so loudly that even Kate can hear it. "You got anything to eat around here? I'm really starving..."
***
"Worst mango I ever had." It's all gone, though, so it can't be too bad, she thinks as she hands him her water bottle. "So this guy, Ben, the one the freighter people are after: think he ought to be caught?"
"Are you really from 2071? Because if you are, you should talk to Dan." It's her way of buying time with his question because honestly, she's not sure how she ought to answer.
"Are you really from 2004?" He stretches out, one hand under his head, the back of one boot balanced on the toe of the other. This time when he reaches into his pocket, it's not for a cigarette: he pulls out a credit-card sized thing and hands it to her. It's emblazoned with the words GOVERNMENT OF MARS on it, with an official insignia and everything; he points out a couple things. "Spiegel, Spike: that's me. DOB 6.26.44: that's June 26, 2044. Citizenship: Mars. And that long string of shit's my SSID: Solar System ID number. We all get one of those, like... the old social security numbers. And right here at the bottom of the passport? That's the date of issue."
She turns it over and over in her hands: it seems impossible, but so do a lot of things around here. This little piece of plastic is either a great hoax or exactly what Spike says it is: a passport issued in 2068. The look she gives him is pretty solid and considered... but then she goes ahead and asks. It can't hurt, right?
With a nod to the ship, she sits forward. "You got room for two in that thing?"
Spike's eyebrows raise, half hidden by a lock of dark green hair. "In the Swordfish? Hell, I don't know. It's built for one, but..."
Knowing an escape hatch when she sees one she stands, tugging him along. "Come on. If you can't get that thing fixed, we'll find someone who can."
"Shit, I can fix it. I just need a little time." Now it's his turn to give her a considered look. "Thinking of escaping to the future, huh?" But then he's nonchalant again, shrugging his shoulders as he leads the way back to his ship. "No way to tell what will happen until we try... but that's what makes it fun."
Kate thinks she's starting to like this guy and she's still not sure she believes he's from the future, but she does believe he can get her off this island. And once they're gone she can ditch him, find a nice quiet place to hide, and... "Get me out of here, and I don't care what Ben deserves. Or Locke, or any of the rest of them." She might regret leaving Sawyer, maybe, but he's made his choice.
"Well, hell, ma'am, let's see if we can get her going. You never know."
***
From the sky, the island looks so small. Even squashed into this ship like she is, not sure how long she'll be able to stand it, she takes it all in: the view, the expanse of it, its place in the ocean. "You sure you know where you're going?"
Spike's only answer is a dangerously reckless grin: he points the nose of the Swordfish up to the clouds and guns it.
***
Run, run, run, Kate. It came from over there. Her hand reaches up to shield her eyes from the rain; she can just make out the trail of dark smoke through the downpour. What are they doing back at the beach? I thought there was only one helicopter. As she nears the clearing, she stops: that's not a helicopter. In fact, she's never seen a plane like that before.
The top flips open: a man stands in the cockpit, looks up at the rain with a scowl on his face, then jumps out.
"Shit. Fucking rain: don't do that."
Muttering beneath his breath, he digs around in his pocket for a smoke and a light: that's better. "Hey. You. Over there behind the trees: where the hell am I?"
Eyes narrowing, she scrambles for her own handgun and holds it out before her: the thing about this island is that she's already been burned too many times and no one can be trusted. "Stay right where you are."
"Yo." Blowing a line of smoke up into the rain, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Shit, he didn't even do anything yet and this girl, whoever she is, already has a gun pointed at him. Oh well. Whatever happens happens. "Like I have anywhere to go. Like I wanted to crash my ship."
Kate steps forward, gun still held steady: no one else is around yet. With any luck, the noise of the rain and the thunder in the distance blotted out the sound of this ship crashing. Even if it didn't, she has a head start, although there's no telling where the Others might be hiding any more. They're not back in their village from where, she reminds herself, Locke banished her. "Who are you?"
Taking a last drag off his cigarette, he smiles... but just barely "I'm just a humble bounty hunter, ma'am." Slowly, his hands come out of his pockets; he raises them in the universal gesture of don't fucking shoot me, all right? "Where the hell are we? Looks like Earth."
"Of course it's Earth. Don't be stupid: where else would we be?" This guy is either really smart or a real idiot, but real idiots don't get to pilot -- or crash -- planes that look like that one.
Cautiously, the guy scratches his chin. "I don't know. Could be Europa. There's jungles kind of like this on Ganymede too. But it's the sky that's the dead giveaway. No blue skies like this in the rest of the damn solar system. If you're lucky, you might get a hint of it at the end of dawn on Mars." But he lets out a short and bitter laugh as a raindrop hits him square in the eye. "I guess calling the sky blue was a little optimistic. No climate control station, huh?"
Slowly, Kate lowers her gun just a little: he's serious. "Keep your hands where I can see them."
"I like a woman who can kick my ass." He raises his hands again back to standard innocent position just as the rain starts to let up. "Hey. Maybe I was right about the blue skies after all: how 'bout that. What's your name?" He spits out the cigarette -- crushing it with the toe of his boot -- as if being held at gunpoint is the most normal thing in the world.
"Kate. Kate Austen. Now yours." The gun levels again, but she's honestly not sure what to do with it right now except wait and see. Locke would probably have the guy tied up already; Sayid might have cracked his head open; Sawyer... well, Sawyer would have stolen his wallet. That would be some help.
"Kate Austen. That's kind of a strong name, for a strong woman. I like it." Taking a step forward, he lowers his hands. "Spike Spiegel." He glances over his shoulder at the Swordfish, shaking his head ruefully. "Doohan's going to kill me. Usually when I try to land in Texas, I land in Texas."
Kate motions him over toward her. "Who's Doohan? Is he one of Charles Widmore's guys?"
The man named Spike -- is that hair of his green or is it just reflecting the trees? -- opens his mouth to say something, shakes his head, reaches for another cigarette. "Widmore? Never heard of him."
"And you're a bounty hunter." She's had it with being chased: you'd think surviving a plane crash for ninety days would give a girl a little bit of reprieve. "Are you here for me? Did Mars send you?"
"Huh." Breathing in deeply then exhaling smoke, he shrugs. "I haven't been to Mars for... uh... well, shit, it's been a couple months maybe."
"So you knew him."
"Knew who?"
"Mars."
"I was born on Mars. Never met anyone named after the place, though." His shrug is so nonchalant she can hardly stand it.
"Edward Mars: the federal marshal. He was on the plane with me when it crashed. You know: Oceanic 815. That's what you're here for, isn't it? That's what everyone's here for." Or at least that's what they thought until Miles piped up about being here for Ben.
Spike just laughs, smokes, runs a hand through his hair, examines the leaves on a nearby branch. "Looks like your past is catching up with you." But he scratches his head, gives Kate another little smile. "I know how that feels. Don't take it personal, but I'm not here for you. I'm here for ship repairs... or I would be if this was Doohan's place. He's the guy who built my ship." Wiping his hands off on his pants, he looks around, eyes narrowed. "He's out near... the old Johnson Space Center. Houston. The NASA place: you heard of it?"
What? That doesn't make any sense. "Of course I've heard of it, but it's not old. It's still active. And you're way off course."
"How 'bout that." His hand moves to cover his stomach; it growls so loudly that even Kate can hear it. "You got anything to eat around here? I'm really starving..."
***
"Worst mango I ever had." It's all gone, though, so it can't be too bad, she thinks as she hands him her water bottle. "So this guy, Ben, the one the freighter people are after: think he ought to be caught?"
"Are you really from 2071? Because if you are, you should talk to Dan." It's her way of buying time with his question because honestly, she's not sure how she ought to answer.
"Are you really from 2004?" He stretches out, one hand under his head, the back of one boot balanced on the toe of the other. This time when he reaches into his pocket, it's not for a cigarette: he pulls out a credit-card sized thing and hands it to her. It's emblazoned with the words GOVERNMENT OF MARS on it, with an official insignia and everything; he points out a couple things. "Spiegel, Spike: that's me. DOB 6.26.44: that's June 26, 2044. Citizenship: Mars. And that long string of shit's my SSID: Solar System ID number. We all get one of those, like... the old social security numbers. And right here at the bottom of the passport? That's the date of issue."
She turns it over and over in her hands: it seems impossible, but so do a lot of things around here. This little piece of plastic is either a great hoax or exactly what Spike says it is: a passport issued in 2068. The look she gives him is pretty solid and considered... but then she goes ahead and asks. It can't hurt, right?
With a nod to the ship, she sits forward. "You got room for two in that thing?"
Spike's eyebrows raise, half hidden by a lock of dark green hair. "In the Swordfish? Hell, I don't know. It's built for one, but..."
Knowing an escape hatch when she sees one she stands, tugging him along. "Come on. If you can't get that thing fixed, we'll find someone who can."
"Shit, I can fix it. I just need a little time." Now it's his turn to give her a considered look. "Thinking of escaping to the future, huh?" But then he's nonchalant again, shrugging his shoulders as he leads the way back to his ship. "No way to tell what will happen until we try... but that's what makes it fun."
Kate thinks she's starting to like this guy and she's still not sure she believes he's from the future, but she does believe he can get her off this island. And once they're gone she can ditch him, find a nice quiet place to hide, and... "Get me out of here, and I don't care what Ben deserves. Or Locke, or any of the rest of them." She might regret leaving Sawyer, maybe, but he's made his choice.
"Well, hell, ma'am, let's see if we can get her going. You never know."
***
From the sky, the island looks so small. Even squashed into this ship like she is, not sure how long she'll be able to stand it, she takes it all in: the view, the expanse of it, its place in the ocean. "You sure you know where you're going?"
Spike's only answer is a dangerously reckless grin: he points the nose of the Swordfish up to the clouds and guns it.
***
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Date: 2008-04-15 08:34 pm (UTC)But I do think it's more than safe to say I adore you.
And I really just loved this. It's more than I expected! Way to get the hell off that island, Kate.
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Date: 2008-04-15 09:36 pm (UTC)Heh, they're both opportunists. This could have turned into a multi-chaptered piece, if I really wanted to cover it all. Glossed over the developing relationship because honestly, it would have gone on for pages and pages, and it would've been such fun to write. I challenged myself to tell it from Kate's POV and not have omniscience into any thoughts for the guy with the fuzzy hair, so that was pretty hard. It would've been way easier to tell it the other way around.
But... it was tons of fun to write and I'm glad you liked it! Writing it kept me out of all sorts of other trouble.