Author's Notes: Okay, here's another Shane story. Sully's having his turn, now it's everyone's favorite grouch's time! This is set before the show, but after the original murders. They probably won't be a huge part of this story, but who knows? I can't help myself. There's so much unchartered Shane territory, that I feel almost BOUND to writing about him.

First Impressions are the Most Important.

Bobbie stepped off the water taxi and just stood there for a few moments on the dock, taking it all in. Harper's Island. It looked picturesque and quaint; the perfect place to spend a relaxing summer vacation. Pulling the directions her uncle had given her out of her pocket, she looked around, trying to get her bearings.

"Need some help?" a voice called out. She looked up, startled, and scanned the docks for its owner. She located it on a fishing boat a few boats down: a guy about her age, maybe a year older, with dark brown hair and an easy grin. Bobbie smiled back gratefully and rolled her suitcase over to him.

"Hi," she said shyly when she reached him.

"Hey," he replied, leaning over the side and grinning again. "New in town?"

"Is it really that obvious?" she asked. The grin, inexplicably, widened as he shrugged.

"Small town on an island—newbies are easy to spot. Need directions?" he asked.

"Yes, I do. My uncle works at the newspaper, I'm supposed to meet him there."

"Oh, you must be Sparky's niece. Hey, I'm Jimmy," he said, taking a glove off and holding his hand out to her. She took it with a grin of her own.

"Bobbie. And yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Like I said, small town on an island. Plus, he's the editor of the paper; he doesn't really hold news back well." She laughed.

"Anyway, directions. You go up there, take a right, then hang a left on Elm and it's..." he trailed off, seeing her face and interpreting correctly—she wasn't exactly relishing the thought of lugging her huge suitcase all the way through town. He chuckled. "Hang on a sec." Then he leaned backwards, calling to someone inside the boat, "Hey, Shane! I'll be back in a few, got a quick errand to run!" At the last bit, he gave her a quick wink. Bobbie could swear her heart stopped.

The unseen Shane yelled back, "Whoa, whoa, wait a second! We got a hundred pounds of fish to haul up! You can't leave now!" The disembodied voice got louder as Shane emerged: he was a guy about the same age as Jimmy, though not as good—or friendly—looking. He gave her a dirty look as he came out, wiping his filthy hands on an even filthier towel.

"You're gonna leave me here to take some summer kid to her yacht? No way, man, I'm not covering for you again!" Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but Bobbie was quicker.

"Summer kid?" she interrupted, staring at Shane disbelievingly. She didn't know what that meant, but his tone told her it wasn't a compliment.

"Yeah, you Seattlites who come here for the summer to live the small-town life for a few weeks. Spend most of it on your yachts and antiquing. Or, fishing for—stealing—the fish that earns us our living. I know one when I see one," he retorted.

"Well, apparently, you don't. I'm not even from Washington, and I've never even been on a yacht, let alone own one. Maybe you should try keeping your trap shut until you get all the facts. Island boy," Bobbie shot back, looking him straight in the eye. His jaw tightened as he glared.

"Whatever, man. Just make it quick," he finally barked at Jimmy, not looking away from her. He threw the towel down as he stomped back inside. Bobbie watched him, shaking her head in disbelief. So much for small town hospitality.

Jimmy looked at her apologetically as he untied his apron and took off his other glove. "Sorry about him. He's in a permanent bad mood. Don't take it personally; he does it with everyone," he explained, hopping off the boat. When he was beside her, he took the suitcase from her hand and started walking up the dock.

"Easier said than done, I guess."

"Now that he knows you won't just take it, he'll leave you alone," he assured her, stopping at a beat-up blue pickup and lifting her suitcase into the bed easily. "Hop in."

"So you grew up here, huh?" she asked as she buckled her seat belt.

"Sure did," he replied, starting it up with a loud roar. "Wouldn't want it any other way."

"I can see why...it's beautiful," she said honestly, looking around at the small shops along the main road. She couldn't help but notice that Jimmy waved to almost everyone he saw.

"Well, here we are," he announced a few minutes later, as they pulled up in front of what looked like a small clapboard house.

"This is the newspaper?" she asked.

"The one and only," he replied, getting out and pulling her suitcase out of the bed. "Listen, I'd better head back, but there's a bar here in town, The Cannery. We're up there just about every night, shooting pool and whatnot. You should check it out, it's a lot of fun. Even for summer kids," he added with another heart-stopping grin.

"Okay, sure...sounds like fun. Around nine?" she asked.

"Whenever. Docks shut down around sunset most nights, so anytime after seven is usually a good time."

"Thanks, I'll be there. See you later then." She shot him what she hoped was a flirtatious and winning smile.

"Sounds good, Bob," he replied, getting back in the truck.

Bobbie watched his truck disappear back down Main Street and smiled to herself. This was promising to be one interesting summer.

"Uncle Sparky?" she called as she opened the door to the Harper's Globe office. After a few seconds, her uncle popped his head out of a rear office. The sight of his familiar gray hair and full beard, topped with kind, spectacled green eyes made her smile.

"Bobbo!" he cried, coming out to hug her. "How was the trip, good?"

"Very. No rough seas on the way from Seattle," she replied.

"Excellent. You wanna go back to the house, get settled in and all that?"

"Please...it's been a long day."

"I'll bet. Hang tight a minute, I'll be right back." He disappeared into his office, and she took the opportunity to collapse into one of the worn wooden chairs near the window and lean her head back. She couldn't wait to take a long shower and a nap.

"Ready?" she heard the moment her eyes closed. She opened them and smiled.

"As I'll ever be."

--

"So, it didn't take you long to get to the Globe," Uncle Sparky commented as he drove her to his house. "The water taxi only just arrived, didn't it?" Bobbie, used to his round-about questioning methods by now, rolled her eyes and grinned.

"Just ask, Sparks," she replied, using the nickname she'd given him years ago.

He chuckled. "Okay. Who drove you? This isn't Baltimore; there aren't taxis on every corner here."

"Some guy down at the docks offered me a ride," she answered.

"Some guy at the docks," he repeated. "Well, that sounds very promising." He shot her an unamused look.

Bobbie sighed, defeated and too tired to even try to outwit him. Ever since her dad had passed away, his only brother had felt it was his duty to keep up on her every move, as much as he could from three thousand miles away. She imagined it would only get worse now that they were under the same roof. "Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," she said finally.

"Oh okay." Her uncle relaxed visibly. "Jimmy's a good kid. Good head on his shoulders," he said with an approving nod. "You'd do well to spend some time with him."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, trying for dryly, but quite sure it came out a bit more excited than she would have liked. Her uncle, the great journalist he was, picked up on it right away—she saw the corners of his mouth curl under his thick white beard.

"Good."

"He, um...invited me to The Cannery tonight. Just to hang out, it's not a date," she hurried to add.

"Hmm." Sparky frowned thoughtfully. Then he sighed and shook his head. "I can't stop you, you know that. But be careful. Shady characters up there after dark." He glanced over to give her a patented look of concerned warning.

--

End Author's Notes: OK. In case you didn't know, Sparky Mackle was a character on Harper's Globe, the sorely-lacking web series that went along with the oh-so-awesome TV show. But I fell in (platonic, daughterly-) love with Sparky, and therefore felt obligated to make him at least a secondary character here. No, Robin will thankfully not be appearing. And it's not because I'm bitter that she got Brent and I didn't. Really. It's not. OK, maybe a little. You can thank me for this small gift by reviewing. :)