Title: If It Ain't Broke...
Rating: PG
Summary: But the car ride home was silent. Sawyer watched the cars speed by and Jack concentrated on the road. Neither of them even attempted small talk. And once they got home, Sawyer walked so far behind Jack that a passer by probably wouldn't have even been able to tell that they lived in the same house.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. At all. I wish, but alas...
Author's Note: For Queen gottalovev, who graciously allowed us to offer up things we already had written. This is a fic I’ve had in my head for a little while, but haven’t really had the guts to tackle. Until now. Used for philosophy_20, prompt #5: syzygy.



It all started innocently enough.

They're having dinner with Charlie and Claire. Aaron has long since gone to bed, and they're all on their second (or third, or forth) glass of wine. Jack chuckles at some joke that Charlie has made from his position on the couch next to Sawyer. Charlie sits with Claire across from them, sipping from his glass and reveling in a joke well-told.

"So, I've got a question," Claire announces, sitting forward so hastily that her wine sloshes in her glass. Charlie turns to face her and Jack sits forward, holding onto his own glass with two hands.

"Okay, little mama, let's here it," Sawyer prompts. Claire smiles, almost mischievously.

"So, I've always wanted to know, and since copious amounts of wine have lowered my inhibitions, I'm going to ask," she informs with a bubbly smile. "If you two could get married, would you?"

The world kind of slowed down after that. Jack turned to Sawyer, Sawyer turned to Jack, and even through the alcohol haze each could tell that the other was uncomfortable. An awkward silence followed, wherein Jack looked at his hands, and Sawyer looked at anything but Jack, and Claire looked embarrassed. Charlie made another joke and they all ignored the big elephant in the room like it wasn't even there.

But the car ride home was silent. Sawyer watched the cars speed by and Jack concentrated on the road. Neither of them even attempted small talk. And once they got home, Sawyer walked so far behind Jack that a passer by probably wouldn't have even been able to tell that they lived in the same house.

"So, we ain't even gonna talk about it, are we?" Sawyer asked, tossing off his leather jacket and falling onto the couch. Jack sighed, shrugging of his own coat and putting it on a hanger and into the hall closet. He turned to Sawyer with his hands settled on his hips, his mind going a mile a minute. He looked tired and frustrated, and so did Sawyer.

"What's there to talk about?" Jack asked, heading for the hall and the stairs and the bedroom. A contemptuous snort followed him and he stopped dead in his tracks, turned back, and glared sternly at Sawyer.

"Denial ain't healthy, doctor," Sawyer sniped, and angry edge to his voice. He laid back against the couch as Jack took a few steps forward. His anger matched Sawyer's, his frustration growing, frown deepening. He shook his head and started to pace the same three feet.

"What do you want from me, Sawyer?" he asked, demanded. He was so damn frustrated and he had no idea what to say, no idea what Sawyer wanted to hear. Sawyer sat up then, leaned forward, and matched Jack's irritated stare with one of his own.

"I want you to explain to me what the hell happened over there," Sawyer answered, his tone also fairly demanding. Jack gaped at him stupidly. But he couldn't help himself.

"As I recall, I wasn't the only one sitting on that couch with my mouth closed, embarrassing Claire," Jack defended before he was even accused. Sawyer shook his head like Jack just wasn't getting it right.

"It's just us now, doc. Just you and me. So why don't you go ahead and answer Mamacita's question."

Jack stared at Sawyer. "No," he answered.

"Why the hell not?" Sawyer replied angrily. "I get you not wantin' to tell Charlie and Claire, but I ain't them. So suck it up, and give it to me straight. If we could do it, would you marry me?"

The question, Jack found, was no easier to answer the second time. Even though it was asked by his boyfriend, not his sister, it didn't matter. Because he knew the answer, just has he had known the answer when they were at Charlie and Claire's. He just didn't know how to say it.

He eventually sighed, heavily, and sat down on the couch with Sawyer. He folded his hands in his lap and turned to face him. "You know I was married once, right?" he asked.

Sawyer nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "Sarah, right?" Jack nodded. "I found a picture of her when I was movin' in."

Jack frowned, distastefully. He hadn't thought he'd kept anything of Sarah's, anything that could remind him of her. "I hope you threw it away," he said, almost under his breath. Sawyer chuckled and smiled a small smile, almost as if he were a little proud of himself.

"I may have ripped it into a couple hundred pieces first," he replied, with a wink. "But don't worry, she's gone."

"Well, anyway," Jack went on, unable to fight back a smile of his own. "I married her because I thought it was the right thing to do. Not because I loved her. Maybe that's why everything fell apart, I don't know. What I do know is that what I have with you...works. In a way that my marriage never did. Or our whole relationship for that matter. You and I...we don't need marriage to pretend that we work. So, no. If we could get married, I wouldn't want to. Because we're fine the way we are."

Sawyer didn't reply for several moments, but when another smile crept across his face, Jack knew that he just have said something right. He did, however, give a small grunt of surprise when Sawyer grabbed him by his neck and pulled him into a slow, thorough kiss. Jack found himself able to relax for that first time that night, let his jaw go slack and his tongue slide over Sawyer's as the kiss grew deeper and deeper.

"I wouldn't marry you either," Sawyer said through a smirk when they separated. Jack's hand lingered on Sawyer's knee and Sawyer's on Jack's cheek. "All we'd end up doin' is fuckin' up a good thing. Ain't no use in tryin' to fix somethin' that ain't even broken to begin with."

Jack hung his head a little but smiled. "I thought you'd be pissed," he confessed. Sawyer gave a hearty chuckle.

"What the hell for?" he asked. "You married Sarah to try to convince yourself you loved her. You don't wanna marry me because what we got's enough to convince you. Far as I'm concerned, that's a compliment, Jackie boy."

Jack lifted his head and Sawyer moved in for another kiss. This time, Jack pulled back, gave him an appraising look. "So, why don't you wanna marry me?" he asked.

Sawyer frowned, but covered it up quickly with a shrug. "I just told you," he answered. Jack nodded, but the steady smirk on his face told Sawyer that Jack wasn't buying it.

"And that's the whole of it?" Jack asked. Sawyer sighed at that, leaned back against the couch, but Jack kept his hand on Sawyer's knee, running his thumb over the seam in what he hoped were comforting circles.

"Maybe it ain't the rings and the cake and the vows that fucks everythin' up, but I've seen enough marriages fall apart to know that there ain't nothin' magical about havin' a husband or a wife," Sawyer said. "I wouldn't marry you 'cause you're right. We don't need it. I'm happy bein' your boyfriend, and I sure as hell hope you're happy bein' mine."

Jack nodded, smiled. "You know I am."

"Good," Sawyer replied. "We got all we need, doc. Even if we could, I don't think marriage is in the cards for either of us."

"Me neither," Jack agreed, leaning back against the couch next to Sawyer and letting his eyes drift closed.

"And that's okay, doc," Sawyer added. Jack could feel his eyes on him, but he was so tired that he just leaned his head against Sawyer's shoulder. Before Sarah, he had honestly believed that marriage was where any relationship was headed, where it should end up, that happiness was guaranteed from there on out. It seemed naive being on the other side of it, but the experience had taught him more than a few things.

There was always something missing with Sarah, a hole in their relationship that he tried to fill by marrying her. With Sawyer, there was no hole, nothing missing. He had enough sense to know that he and Sawyer were fine, just the way they were. And that there was no use trying to fix something that wasn't even broken to begin with.