Title: A Dead Woman's Clothes
Original post date: 4th January 2006
Spoilers: the first season two death
Summary: "I personally have no use for them..." Sayid comes to Claire with an offer.
Disclaimer: Mine. Mineminemineminemine. ... ABC's. JJ Abramses. And other people.
The baby was crying again. Hardly surprising really – the state Claire was in had to be affecting the child in some way. Sayid watched as Charlie appeared only to chastise her and take the baby away looking self-righteous. Sayid felt a tug of sympathy for Claire who clearly did not want Charlie to take Aaron away but he had different matters to attend to and with Charlie gone it made it a lot easier.
He walked slowly over. Claire was compulsively folding clothes and tidying her shelter.
'Claire?' he called out as he came closer and she glanced up, her face smudged with tears. A look of shock registered on her face when she saw that he was lugging a huge suitcase.
'Sayid,' she returned and set down another shirt before picking up another and fidgeting with it. 'Do you need a hand with moving that?'
Sayid dropped the suitcase with a decisive thump and straightened up to speak. 'No I'm fine now, thank you.' Claire nodded and went back to folding her clothes.
'What's in it?' Claire ventured after a moment.
'It's...' Sayid lost his voice momentarily and lowered his eyes. 'It's Shannon's clothes.'
Claire stopped.
'I personally have no use for them,' Sayid continued. 'You two were about the same – the same size. I thought maybe you could use some of it. I don't think anyone else would fit into it but you.'
Claire cleared her throat a little before speaking. 'Are you sure you don't want to keep...?'
'There's no point in me keeping them when they can actually be used and useful,' Sayid said curtly. 'Some of your clothes - your shirts in particular - I saw that they were stretched when you were pregnant and don't fit very well now.'
Claire looked down at the top she was wearing and nodded. 'Yeah, I guess so.' She glanced up at him. 'I'll have a look, see if there's anything I can use.'
She reached a hand out and Sayid helped her pull the suitcase further into her shelter.
Setting it down, Claire glanced up at Sayid and grabbed his arm as he went to leave.
'Thanks. I know this must be hard for you.'
Further down the beach he stops and looks back as Claire tentatively paws through the bag, pulling out only too recognisable articles of clothing.
The orange bikini she was wearing when he asked her to help him with translating Rousseau's maps.
The pink, sequinned tank top she wore when they found the French transmission.
The black skirt she had been wearing only days before...
A few days later the suitcase is returned to him considerably lighter and he walks down the beach to find Claire.
She's knee deep in the water; her long hair pulled back into a ponytail and she's wearing a baggy shirt over one of Shannon's bikinis.
Sayid suppresses a smile. She's certainly a lot more modest than Shannon ever was. He recalls the first real conversation he ever had with her, when she was wearing nothing but those bikini bottoms with a flimsy wrap pressed to her chest…
As a wave of memories engulfs him, Sayid glances further down the beach and sees Charlie watching Claire, utterly captivated at the sight of her smiling and kicking through the water, Aaron in his arms.
The wind lifts Sayid's dark curls away from his face and he turns his back on the three of them and heads back up the beach to her grave.