Proper Jurisdiction
Title: Proper Jurisdiciton
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own them; just borrowing.
Summary: Kate runs. Sawyer follows. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”
Spoilers: through The Last Recruit
Notes: Written for the Five Acts meme. For lenina20, who wanted Kate/Sawyer, cars and captivity. Also submitted to un_love_you, author's choice.
It's almost embarrassing, how easy it is to walk out of the LAPD. She's escaped a Federal Marshal, walked in cuffs past airport security...And the redneck cop who keeps hitting on her goes and leaves her cuffed to a plastic office chair while he and his partner go off on another call. While most of the rest of the office is at lunch.
Kate's unimpressed. Remind her to never need the cops in LA.
So, this is what happens: She watches for her opening. Stands up, takes that stupid chair with her. Rummages around in a couple desks before she finds keys, uncuffs herself. She finds a visitor's pass on another desk and clips it to her shirt. And then she just walks out, head high. It's a bit more difficult once she's out on the street, but wouldn't you know - stealing and hotwiring a car's nothing she hasn't done before.
(She sees him in her mind's eye, that smirk, leaning towards her. Oh, I like you. Yeah, she bets he does.)
She takes the I-5 south out of the city, windows down, sun and wind in her hair. It feels good.
-----
As idiotic as the LA cops might be, they've still got surveillance. And so, she's not entirely surprised when lights appear in her rear view, though her heart still beats faster and her breathing races. She considers making them chase her, but the car's got crap pickup and there's nowhere to go on a busy highway, anyway. She manages to veer across two lanes before peeling off onto the shoulder. And then she gets out and runs.
She has a bit of a head start, so her legs are screaming when the cop finally catches up with her. She hears him coming, doesn't look back, so the first thing she feels is his body slamming into hers and she's down, face-first in the sandy ground.
And then, a low growl, close to her ear: “Gotcha, sweetheart.”
Him.
Adrenaline's still got a hold, and she struggles, arms and legs flailing against him. She thinks she kicks him somewhere essential, because his grasp on her loosens just slightly; she can turn under him so she's on her back. Face to face. And he smirks.
“Isn't this a little out of your jurisdiction?” she asks, shaking her head quickly, hair and sand out of her eyes.
He smirks a little wider, hands coming up to encircle her wrists. “Turns out you're my jurisdiction, princess.”
It's so obviously a come-on. She doesn't know if she wants to shoot him or fuck him. She brings her knee up but he's faster, holds her tight and flips her over again. Her face in the dirt, she feels cold cuffs locking in, and she rolls her shoulders, hard and fast, so they're laying side by side, instead.
He hauls her to her feet and stays close, pulls her arms so her back's flush against him. She's sure there's probably a handbook on the proper way to treat arrested citizens, and he's probably crossing most every line. She's also sure he doesn't care. “Katherine Anne Austen,” he begins, and she expects the Miranda but he deviates. Of course. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”
“You gotta stop arresting me, then,” she retorts, defiant, twisting her neck to look up at him.
Still that smirk. “You gotta stop running.”
She arches an eyebrow, shakes her head, and the words are out before she thinks them, before she even knows what they are. “Someone once told me, tigers don't change their stripes.”
His smirk fades and she sees something - anger, fear - cross his face before he schools it blank. He steps away and jerks her arm so she stumbles to follow him. “C'mon. Walk.”
She runs.
fin
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own them; just borrowing.
Summary: Kate runs. Sawyer follows. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”
Spoilers: through The Last Recruit
Notes: Written for the Five Acts meme. For lenina20, who wanted Kate/Sawyer, cars and captivity. Also submitted to un_love_you, author's choice.
It's almost embarrassing, how easy it is to walk out of the LAPD. She's escaped a Federal Marshal, walked in cuffs past airport security...And the redneck cop who keeps hitting on her goes and leaves her cuffed to a plastic office chair while he and his partner go off on another call. While most of the rest of the office is at lunch.
Kate's unimpressed. Remind her to never need the cops in LA.
So, this is what happens: She watches for her opening. Stands up, takes that stupid chair with her. Rummages around in a couple desks before she finds keys, uncuffs herself. She finds a visitor's pass on another desk and clips it to her shirt. And then she just walks out, head high. It's a bit more difficult once she's out on the street, but wouldn't you know - stealing and hotwiring a car's nothing she hasn't done before.
(She sees him in her mind's eye, that smirk, leaning towards her. Oh, I like you. Yeah, she bets he does.)
She takes the I-5 south out of the city, windows down, sun and wind in her hair. It feels good.
-----
As idiotic as the LA cops might be, they've still got surveillance. And so, she's not entirely surprised when lights appear in her rear view, though her heart still beats faster and her breathing races. She considers making them chase her, but the car's got crap pickup and there's nowhere to go on a busy highway, anyway. She manages to veer across two lanes before peeling off onto the shoulder. And then she gets out and runs.
She has a bit of a head start, so her legs are screaming when the cop finally catches up with her. She hears him coming, doesn't look back, so the first thing she feels is his body slamming into hers and she's down, face-first in the sandy ground.
And then, a low growl, close to her ear: “Gotcha, sweetheart.”
Him.
Adrenaline's still got a hold, and she struggles, arms and legs flailing against him. She thinks she kicks him somewhere essential, because his grasp on her loosens just slightly; she can turn under him so she's on her back. Face to face. And he smirks.
“Isn't this a little out of your jurisdiction?” she asks, shaking her head quickly, hair and sand out of her eyes.
He smirks a little wider, hands coming up to encircle her wrists. “Turns out you're my jurisdiction, princess.”
It's so obviously a come-on. She doesn't know if she wants to shoot him or fuck him. She brings her knee up but he's faster, holds her tight and flips her over again. Her face in the dirt, she feels cold cuffs locking in, and she rolls her shoulders, hard and fast, so they're laying side by side, instead.
He hauls her to her feet and stays close, pulls her arms so her back's flush against him. She's sure there's probably a handbook on the proper way to treat arrested citizens, and he's probably crossing most every line. She's also sure he doesn't care. “Katherine Anne Austen,” he begins, and she expects the Miranda but he deviates. Of course. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”
“You gotta stop arresting me, then,” she retorts, defiant, twisting her neck to look up at him.
Still that smirk. “You gotta stop running.”
She arches an eyebrow, shakes her head, and the words are out before she thinks them, before she even knows what they are. “Someone once told me, tigers don't change their stripes.”
His smirk fades and she sees something - anger, fear - cross his face before he schools it blank. He steps away and jerks her arm so she stumbles to follow him. “C'mon. Walk.”
She runs.
fin