Author's note: My first Lost fic! Whoohoo! It will have more chapters. This is just a fun little set-up. Please review!
"I'm going to go try to get some fruit, OK? Do you need anything? You alright? How's Turnip-head?" Charlie asked.
"I'm fine, and don't call him that anymore!" Claire replied, rolling her eyes.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll be back soon." He ruffled her hair and kissed Aaron on the forehead, then strode away toward the jungle.
Claire sighed and laid back on the sand, laying Aaron on her chest. Truthfully, she would have preferred to be the one walking off and saying goodbye. It would have been nice to walk through camp alone for once, just Claire. She was beginning to doubt that she would ever feel like "Claire" again. She had gone through a series of new names since her arrival on the island. "Claire, The Pregnant Girl." "Claire Who Got Kidnapped." "Claire Who Lost Her Baby." "Claire and the Baby" (or "Claire and Turnip-head," if Charlie was speaking ).
Now she was "Claire and Aaron," or on the rare occasion she let someone take the baby for a while, "Claire and Charlie." She wouldn't trade Aaron or her friendship (or maybe more?) with Charlie for anything, but she was beginning to forget what part of the equation "Claire" even was.
It was strange that just as she considered the loss of her given name, it was called out. "Claire!"
She looked up and saw Hurley meandering past in his usual style, half elephant on promenade through the jungle, half surfer-dude checking out the waves. She lifted one hand and lazily waved, and she expected him to return the gesture and move on, but he broke with tradition and padded across the sand to her shelter. He flopped down next to her, claiming a corner of her blanket and providing a little bit of shade from the sun. "Top five things from civilization that you wish you had on the island. Go!"
"Huh?" Claire responded brightly.
"I'll go first. These are in no particular order." He held up one hand and began counting on his chubby, tanned fingers. "One, a taco stand."
A tiny smile of disbelief brushed Claire's lips. "A whole stand?"
"Yeah, of course, who knows how long we'll be here?" he replied. He held up his second finger. "A case of Corona. Cold. Yeah…" He smiled dreamily.
Claire nodded, trying to assemble her own list in her head.
"Three, a TV. With cable. Does cable count as a fourth thing? Like, the cable box?"
"I'll be lenient," Claire replied with an air of mock generosity.
"Great. OK, four, unlimited batteries for my CD player."
Claire giggled, remembering Hurley scouring the island for batteries after his precious appliance died. "Good choice, but you can't have unlimited, can you? Like, you can't have infinity of something, that's cheating."
"OK, fine, whatever, a freakin' huge crate of batteries. Five… a cruise ship so we could sail away from here."
"That's definitely cheating! That's like when a genie gives you three wishes and you wish for more wishes. If you could leave the island, you wouldn't need all your stuff!"
"Fine, rule Nazi, I'll make up something else. But you haven't given me your list."
"OK, fine." She sat up and placed Aaron in his cradle, rocking it with one hand as the other mimicked his counting pose. "One, a working cell phone."
"Ooh, good choice. But if you only want it so you can call someone and get us off the island, that's cheating," Hurley declared, nodding his head sagely.
"No, I could call my mates and stuff," Claire argued. "Two," she began before he could comment, "my suitcase that I checked."
"A suitcase is a bunch of things, not one."
"No, because they're all contained in one bag." She sighed dreamily. "I really want my clothes. I mean, I had some in my carry-on and I found a few things, but I miss my old stuff. Not to mention my underwear."
Hurley let out a little snorting laugh. "No, I'm afraid you have to count each pair of underwear as a separate wish."
"Oh, piss off," she replied airily. "Three, a huge, huge box full of peanut butter."
"A box of peanut butter? Gross."
"No, a box of jars of peanut butter."
"OK, I can see it."
"Four, hmm… my CD collection. I could listen to them on your player because you would have 'unlimited' batteries," she teased.
"Final choice," Hurley said in the sort of grave tone that Regis Philbin used to ask the million-dollar question.
"Umm… a diaper bag."
"A bag of diapers?"
"No, like those bags moms carry around, with all those baby supplies. Like diapers and bottles and actual baby clothes," she clarified, looking ruefully at Aaron's meager blanket-fashioned attire.
"That's like your suitcase, totally cheating. Even more cheating because this is a hypothetical bag, not one that actually exists."
"This is a hypothetical game. I need a diaper bag!" Claire leaned forward insistently, then realized how ridiculous she was being. She was stranded on an island with a newborn and she was getting heated over some stupid top five list.
Hurley backed down. "OK, fine, whatever. I still can't pick an ideal fifth item."
"Oops, I just realized, I forgot something."
"Yeah, what?"
"A breast pump."
"Ew, what even is that? Oh… yeah… ugh."
"Wow, mature reaction."
"Look, I'm mature. To prove how mature I am, I'm willing to be generous. My number five will be…" He made a little drum roll sound. "A breast pump."
"Aw, for me?" Claire asked, tilting her head charmingly.
"No, for my own personal use. Don't judge me. This list is don't ask, don't tell," Hurley quipped, maintaining a straight face except for the left corner of his mouth, which was rebelliously trying to smile.
Claire laughed so hard that Aaron stirred and whined in his cradle at his mother's unexpected outburst. "Aw, c'mere sweetie," she cooed, lifting the baby into her arms.
"Hey, little dude," Hurley said. Unlike most of the islanders, he didn't have a baby talk tone. His Aaron voice was the same laid-back one he used on everyone.
"You want to hold him?" Claire asked, offering as a sort of general courtesy, as well as a giving herself a chance to rest her arms for a few more precious minutes.
"Uh… sure," Hurley said in a slightly nervous voice. He stuck his arms straight out, palms up, as though accepting a tray of cookies. Claire tried to hide her smile at his discomfort and settled Aaron carefully in his arms.
"Am I doing this right? Does he look mad?" Hurley asked anxiously.
"He looks fine, don't worry." The baby, in truth, looked kind of hilarious in contrast to the big man. The picture was made even funnier by the fact that Aaron was completely relaxed, studying Hurley's face quietly, while Hurley held the baby as gingerly as he would a stick of dynamite.
A random question entered her mind. "What one person would you want on the island with you? Like, who do you miss the most?"
"Hmm… my friend Johnny."
"What's he like?"
"Kind of shrimpy… kind of a jackass… man, I love him. Miss him like crazy. Hadn't seen him in… a while, even before the crash." He twiddled his thumbs and a shadow of regret crossed his face, but when he looked up, his eyes were clear. "How about you?"
"I'm not sure," she answered, feeling like a loser. "I would have said Thomas, but yeah, you know…"
"Thomas?"
"Aaron's dad, but that's kind of a long time ago." She sighed and made an exasperated face. "I guess maybe I'd want my friend Rachel."
"What's she like?"
"Fun. She was so good at making me not worry about things. Like, we're alive, we're hanging out, it must not be too bad." She smiled wistfully, gazing at Hurley through a lock of blonde hair that had fallen across her face. He bit his lip and looked down awkwardly, and she wondered if he was tired of holding the baby. "You want me to take him back?"
"Yeah, sure, if you want." He carefully placed Aaron back in her arms. "You know, I have a problem with your son."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He has no appreciation for James Brown. I tried out a little "I Feel Good" one time, and he turned it down cold. I fear for his future."
Claire chuckled, then gave a wan grin. "Hey, you know what?"
"What?"
"I have my favorite person in the world on the island already." She nodded toward the bundle in her arms. "I'm lucky, yeah? Well, kind of."
"Yeah, and he's lucky to have his mom." Despite his relinquishing of the baby burden, he still looked a little uncomfortable as these words left his lips.
"Aw, are you missing your mum, Hurley?" she teased, not sure how else to accept the compliment.
"Eh, not really. She would find something to nag me about out here. Like, 'Hugo, Locke can kill boars, why you sitting around on your lazy butt?' or maybe 'We're Catholic, we don't believe in creepy monster-infested jungles!'"
"I think our mothers should meet. They sound like they'd get along." Claire cast her gaze down to Aaron. "I'm never going to be like that to you, OK, baby?"
"Better get that in writing, little guy," Hurley told him gravely. He shifted his position on the sand and rose slowly to his feet. "Well…" He stretched his arms. "I guess I'll leave you two alone. There might be some breast pump action that I don't want to know about going on pretty soon." Before he could say anymore, Charlie bounded up next to him.
"Hey there, Claire and Hurley!"
Claire realized that her named had acquired a new configuration, and she wasn't sure whether that was progress or not.
"What are we talking about?" Charlie continued.
"Claire's boobs." Hurley grinned mischievously.
For a moment, Claire wondered whether this revelation would send Charlie onto one of the protective kicks he had been on lately, but the worry proved to be unnecessary.
"Yeah? Looks like I got here just in time then!"
"I guess this kind of treatment is what I get when I'm surrounded by boys," Claire said with mock despair, rocking the littlest "boy" in her arms.
"Get used to it!" Charlie plopped onto the sand next to her and flung his arm around her shoulders.
Maybe I will, she thought with a hopeful smile.
A/N: I'm going to try to write more chapters of this. I'm kind of confused about where I want a certain relationship to go, but oh well, I'll figure it out. I do have plans for the next chapters. Please review! Thanks!