Note: Written after "Confidence Man" but long before "Hearts and Minds" back when people were still speculating what Shannon's "trauma" might be. (Other than the plane crash, of course.) One of my first Lost fics.

Sawyer looked up from his book as Shannon approached. "You got any paper?" she asked him abruptly.

"Well, hello to you too, blondie," Sawyer said, smiling at her with appreciation.

"Yeah, hi," she said, forcing a smile. "Writing paper? Do you have any? I need a few sheets."

"You writing your memoirs, dollface?" Sawyer asked, not moving a muscle.

"Funny," she said, looking not the least bit amused. "So, do you have the paper or not?"

"I think I got some nearby. You wait right here and I'll go check my little inventory." He stood up, brushing closer to her than was necessary. She stepped back, giving him a look of disgust.

He sighed and walked away. She sat down and flipped through the book. "Australia on 40 a Day." Fat lot of good it did anyone now, she thought bitterly. A lot of good Australia had done her. A vacation in the sun hadn't help her take her mind off things at all.

Sawyer came ambling back about five minutes later. "Success," he said, smiling triumphantly, holding up two sheets of paper.

"What's the price?" Shannon asked, biting her lip.

"Ah, you wound me," Sawyer said, putting his hand on his heart and flashing her his dimples. "Haven't you heard? I'm a changed man. No charge for the pretty lady."

"Uh, thanks," said Shannon rolling her eyes. She grabbed the paper from his hand and strode off.

"You take care now," Sawyer called after her, settling lazily back down into his chair. For all he knew, the girl was going to write love poems to Saint Jack. What else would she want with the paper?

A girl like that didn't go after guys. She just stood back and let them fight over her. A stuck-up bitch like that was probably just a tease anyway. Sawyer had no use for girls like her. She could stick the paper up her ass for all he cared.

Then something else occurred to him, but he immediately dismissed it. Not that girl. No way. But he watched her as she walked back to the caves. Her head was down, her arms hugging her thin frame. He sighed. "Hell, it's none of my business," he thought. But if he was right ...

"All these damn do-gooders are rubbing off on me," he sighed and got up and began to follow her.

Shannon looked down. It was a long way down. As she leaned forward, some dirt broke loose and trickled down the cliff's edge. She was breathing hard. It would be so easy, to just walk over the edge. She'd thought about it ever since she'd found this place. It had haunted her dreams. She'd pictured coming up here a dozen times. What the light would be like, how free she would feel as she stepped over.

But now that she was finally here, she couldn't do it. It wasn't just because of what her death would do to Boone. She should care about that, but he would understand, she knew. She'd explained everything in the letter. She knew what she was going to say so she didn't waste any paper. She'd left the note in Boone's bed, weighted down with a rock. She hoped he wouldn't find it until later that night.

She took a deep breath and held out one leg. "Hey!" The shout stopped her. She froze, then turned and looked to see who was there. It was Sawyer. He was a few yards behind her. He looked genuinely concerned, she was surprised to see, even more surprised than she was to see him there at all.

"Go away," she shouted at him. "Leave me alone."

"Not gonna happen, sweetheart," he said, edging closer to her. "Why don't you just come over here and talk to me?"

"Hah," she snorted. "Talk to you? Why the hell would I want to talk to you?"

"Listen, Shannon, you can do whatever you want, just think about moving this way some." He continued to approach her very slowly.

"You know my name?" she said, disbelieving. "I thought I was just 'Sticks' or 'Blondie,' to you."

"Well, now, of course I know your name, Shannon" said Sawyer, eying her carefully as she wavered on the cliff edge. "It's just no fun to call people by their real names."

"You think you can sweet talk me into not jumping, well you're wrong. I'm going to jump and you can't stop me."

"Why would you want to do a thing like that?" said Sawyer, who was almost close enough to touch her.

"Why? Why?" Shannon said, a hysterical edge creeping into her voice. "You want to know why?"

Sawyer nodded, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on hers.

"My boyfriend killed himself, OK?" she shouted. "He did it because of me. Because I wouldn't see him anymore. You have no idea what it's like!"

Sawyer visibly flinched. "Yes, I do," he said quietly. "My daddy killed himself when I was eight. Right after he killed my mother. In front of me," he added in a low voice.

Shannon reacted as if he'd struck her. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "I ... I didn't know. Oh, God!" The horror of what he said hit her hard. She bent over as if she were going to be sick.

In an instant, he was standing next to her. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright. "You think you have problems, princess?" He was glaring into her face now and she trembled at the naked pain she saw there. "You're the one who has no idea. I've been living in hell all my life. You want to die? Well, so do I, sweetheart. You want to go now?" He jerked her closer to the edge and she gasped.

"You're insane," she said, struggling desperately against him. His eyes had a wild light in them, and she had never been more afraid in her life.

He pulled her closer to him and then before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her, his mouth crushing hers. She was too surprised to react, but then she began kissing him back just as passionately. She could feel his heart beating wildly, and she knew hers was too.

His stubble was rough on her cheek and he still had a death grip on her arm, but she didn't care. She didn't know if they were still on the edge of the cliff or had gone over it. She felt as dizzy as if she were falling.

She stopped to catch her breath, putting her head on Sawyer's chest. He put his arm around her and asked her gently, "You still want to die today?" She looked up at him and shook her head.

"OK then," he said, taking her hand and leading her away from the precipice. "Let's sit down for a spell, shall we?"

She followed him obediently, sitting down next to him on the grass. She was still shaking. The ground felt oddly solid to her. She glanced over at Sawyer. He was looking straight ahead, out over where they'd just been standing.

"I think I need a cigarette," he said, pulling one out of his pocket. She noticed his hand shook slightly. He had put it in his mouth, but then looked over her. "Oh, right, asthma girl. I almost forgot." He put the cigarette back without lighting it.

"I don't get you," Shannon said, looking at him curiously. "Why did you lie about having my inhalers? Didn't you know what they were going to do to you?"

He didn't say anything, just gave her a sharp look.

"Oh. You mean you wanted them to ... because of what happened to your parents?" she looked confused.

"Nothing's ever that simple, sugar," he said. "I've been dancing with death for a long time now. Some times it's a lot closer than others. Today I guess it was pretty close."

"And that day ... when you got stabbed?"

"Yeah, it was real fuckin' close that day," said Sawyer, looking down at the ground. "You can thank Saint Jack that I'm still drawing breath. Fool doctor couldn't just let me ease on out of this life."

"Why do you hate Jack so much? He only ever tries to help people."

"Hate's a strong word, darlin'. I just think some people don't see what life really is. Like you. I pictured you sitting in a castle in Beverly Hills somewhere, doing nothing but shopping for designer clothes and parading around in bikinis."

"Yeah, I'm not Paris Hilton, thanks very much," Shannon sniffed.

"Why does your brother call you princess, then?" Sawyer asked.

"Because he's my jerky brother. Didn't you have an annoying brother or sister?"

"Nope. Lonely only."

"Well, then you're lucky." They were silent for a minute.

"So, what was this boyfriend of yours like?" Sawyer asked after a while.

Shannon winced, but his expression of concern seemed genuine. "He ... he was fine, until I wanted to break it off. He wanted to be with me all the time and I, you know, I just didn't feel that way."

"And then he didn't take it so good?" Sawyer said.

"No, he didn't," said Shannon, her voice trembling. "He started showing up all hours. Sending me stuff. Really weird stuff. When he ... he did it, he left a note saying it was because of me. He said really mean things about me and I just had to get out of town. Everyone thought I was this awful bitch who drove him to it. And I started to think ... I started to think maybe they were right." She was crying softly again.

Sawyer reached out and put his arm around her, and cradled her against his chest. "Hey now. I'm no shrink, but I do know that killing yourself is a damn selfish thing to do. It's meant to hurt the people left behind."

"I don't want to hurt Boone," she sobbed. "But I just can't take it anymore. I can't stop thinking about it. And now we're stuck here and our lives are over anyway."

Sawyer awkwardly stroked her fine, flaxen hair. "I can't give you a reason to live," he said after she had nearly cried herself out. "I barely have one myself, day to day."

"What about Kate?" she sniffed. "You've got a thing for her. You couldn't be more obvious about it."

"Why I do believe you're jealous, sweetheart," Sawyer said, with just a hint of his playful smirk.

"Hardly," she said, pushing him away, with a sneer on her face. "I mean look at you. You ever take a look at yourself? Do you like what you see?"

His eyes glinted with a hard edge. "Every day, girl. Every day I sit and weigh my sins and my sorrows. It's not a pretty sight."

"Then why do you keep going?" She asked him, her voice full of pain, her eyes tearing up again.

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'm a little bit of a coward. Or maybe life keeps surprising me just enough to keep me interested." He sighed.

"One day at a time?" she said. "That AA stuff?"

"You've been?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "My friends and I, we used to party a lot. One night there was a crash and my best friend died. And I decided I needed to stop."

"Ah, sweetheart, you've had your share of troubles, haven't you?" Sawyer said, putting his arm around her. "I guess I've been a little hard on you, princess."

"Don't call me that," Shannon said. "That's what my brother calls me. And you're definitely not my brother." She leaned over to kiss him, taking his face in her hands, and kissing him as if her life depended on it.

(To be continued...)