The eventual demise (but first, romance!) of Boone and Shannon, in an alternate storyline. Boone and Shannon are the "adventure rescue team" of the castaways, sent to do menial tasks for people whenever they came about. However one day, the two find themselves getting caught up more and more into more serious issues, like encounters with the Others, forest fires, stumbling upon the Tailies, and tripping Rousseau's various traps. Through it all they reconcile and manage to form a relationship, all before they meet their ends from what started off as simple task work.
In this AU, Boone does not form a bond with Locke and therefore does not die by internal injuries caused by the crash of the Beechcraft. Likewise, Shannon therefore does not become ridden and conflicted and crazed by grief, and does not follow any delusions of little boys into the jungle and getting shot by Ana Lucia.
Note: Each chapter alternates narration between Shannon and Boone. Chapter 1 starts with Shannon - obviously - and then will go to Boone. Also, some random flashbacks pertaining to the plot may be thrown in as chapters every once in a while. They'll be in all italics so you can tell they're flashbacks, and the POV should be easy to tell. I'm doing my best to capture Boone and Shannon, as this is my first Shoone - and LOST fanfic - so bear with me! I hope you enjoy the story!
"Vincent! Vincent!"
Sigh. I turned the page of the magazine I was reading.
"VINCENT!"
Slamming my eyes shut and biting down hard on my lips, I breathed in the fading perfume samples. Nope. Not working.
"VINCENNNT!"
That was it. I threw the magazine out of sight and got up from my cozy chair.
"If I help you find your damned dog, will you shut up, kid?" I seethed. I stared down the frustrating child - Walt - as my hair whipped my face just as angrily.
His weirdly overprotective father glared at me from a distance. He was building his stupid sailboat so he couldn't come over and yell at me for cursing at his kid. I smirked back at him.
Walt nodded, oblivious to my hostility.
Ugh. Well here we go again.
"Okay, fine. Let's go," I marched over to the little boy and grabbed hold of his arm. Before I entered the jungle with a ten-year-old in tow, I gave once last glance over my shoulder. At my brother-step-brother, Boone.
He eyed me knowingly. He knew my pain.
Interrupting our eye contact was a new disaster happening down the beach. I couldn't tell what the hell was going on, but I heard a lot of men shouting and saw people running like bored idiots from their tents to crowd around whatever scene was going down. I silently cursed at myself for not being able to join those same bored idiots, I was one of them. Instead I was stuck with some mediocre task.
Boone rushed in to join the conflict. Lucky bastard. I frowned and turned around, as Walt was starting to lead me into the jungle by now.
Yay for another fan-freaking-tastic jungle adventure. Jesus, I'm starting to feel like Nancy Drew. Why did Boone have to drag me into this shit?