(no subject)

[slybrunette]

Title: Fairytales
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Kate Austen/Sun Kwon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 519
Prompt: #60 - New Year for slash_100
Progress: 24/100
Summary: This was supposed to be just another New Year's party.

The moon shines full above them, only providing slight illumination in the dark ally. Still, it hangs cupped in the palm of night, close enough to touch but just out of reach. Kate threads her fingers through the chain-link fence on either side on Sun’s waist, flexing her hand as Sun moves in front of her. A batch of firecrackers go off in the distance and somewhere a ball is dropping, but neither are particularly interested in any of it. Sun stops and tenses as a group of people pass by, but Kate smoothes her worried expression with another kiss. The others can’t see them in the dark.

 

This was supposed to be just another New Year’s party. Slip on her one pair of high heels, catch a cab because there was no way she was going to walk in those shoes, chit-chat with some old friends, get slightly tipsy and go home at 12:01. But then the crowd parted and there was Sun. And she was slightly more intoxicated than the term ‘tipsy’ would cover.  So now here Kate was, twisted diamond patterns pressing into her arms, lipstick probably more than smeared and a woman she hadn’t seen in five years leaning into her hip. Not exactly how she’d pictured this evening ending, but she guesses that’s what people keep forgetting about life; no matter how carefully you plan you can never predict what’s around the bend.

 

Then the noise level in the party they are supposed to be attending rises dramatically from the moderate din of conversation and music to whoops and loud laughter. Kate checks her watch. 11:56. Almost midnight. Sun swears under her breath, the first time Kate thinks she’s ever heard Sun curse, at least in English, and suddenly it’s a scramble to smooth hair and reapply make-up. Jin will notice Sun’s gone if she’s not there to kiss when the clocks strikes twelve. Sun’s rushing into the street before Kate knows what’s happening, which is probably why she doesn’t realize she’s missing a shoe. It’s dangling by the heel from the fence, where Sun must have dug it in to use as leverage.

 

“Forgetting something?” Kate calls after her, and Sun turns to face her. The street lamp illuminates her like a celestial glow and Kate’s surprised a halo doesn’t hover above her head. Then she steps back into the ally, the dark, and slides the shoe back on hastily while balancing on one foot.

 

None of their vehicles are going to turn into pumpkins or their drivers to mice, but that might as well be the truth.

 

“Are you coming?” Sun asks, breathy, and Kate realizes she’s already back in the street. She pauses but nods.

 

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

So Kate plops down on an overturned trashcan and waits; for the ball to drop, for the year to change, for the timer to reset, for a new start and to make a New Year’s resolution. And when it does, Dick Clark does his thing and the party begins to disperse, but somehow, it doesn’t make Kate feel any better.