Dinner for Two
"Don't peek now," Charlie's voice came from just a few feet in front of where Claire stood. She smiled and reached out blindly into the air in front of her.
"Charlie," she drew out his name as if she was a whining child. "How on earth could I see anything with this blindfold, even if I did want to peek?" She could just imagine Charlie's thin shoulders rising in a nonchalant shrug.
"I just..." he paused. "Just was it to be a surprise, that's all." Claire's smile grew. She chose her footing carefully, following the sound of his voice as he walked backwards through the jungle, leading her. She would hear him trip occasionally as he directed her verbally, and a string of curses would spew from his direction.
"How much further, Charlie?" she asked, picking up and placing her next step carefully.
"Watch that root by your left foot, there," Charlie cautioned. Claire found it by exploring with her toes, and deftly cleared it. "There's a girl," he said with a smile in his voice. "Just a bit further, love." She heard him grunt as he hefted a log out of the path of her stumbling gait. She laughed again and nearly tripped because of it. Charlie's strong hands caught her by the shoulders and righted her quickly.
Claire had tried to keep her sense of direction tuned to where Charlie was leading her, but she had a feeling that he had purposely navigated her over half the island to get her disoriented. A branch shifted out of her way to her right, and she turned instinctively to the noise. Charlie made an "ahh" noise, then laughed.
"Turn to the front again and take six steps forward."
"This must be awfully fun for you, to lead a pregnant girl around the jungle 'till she's lost herself," she said with raised eyebrows, and she tookfive steps forward.
"One more step, Claire," came Charlie's reply. She took it, and realized that her heart was beating in anticipation. The grass shuffled around her, and she suddenly felt Charlie in front of her, his arms reaching around to the back of her head to undo the blindfold. Her heart instinctively leapt upwards. Charlie paused.
"Ready?" he asked with glee in his throat.
"Yes, yes, I'm ready!" Claire said quickly with an exhaling laugh. In a flash of light, Charlie whipped the blindfold from her eyes in a swooping motion. The sudden light caused her to shield her eyes, but after only a moment, she could see what Charlie had been up to.
There he stood, just in front of her, that grin of his plastering the bottom half of his face completely. Against all probability, over his normal drab clothing, he wore Jack's suit jacket, complete with a tiny flower in the breast pocket. Claire's mouth, agape, turned up in a silly grin to match his. He swept one arm to point at something on the ground that was covered in a slightly off-color sheet.
"Happy Birthday!" Charlie proclaimed loudly. Claire's grin faltered slightly, and she shot him an apprehensive glance.
"Charlie... It's not my birthday," she told him slowly. This did not dim any of his enthusiasm.
"I know!" he told her as he walked to the covered object. "But there weren't any good holidays coming and your bloody birthday's too far away." He placed a hand on the cloth, pausing just long enough for Claire to laugh. "You've been a bit down lately, to tell the truth, so I thought I'd try to help you out a bit... Y'know?" Claire could see the blood rising slowly to his cheeks as he spoke. The last time Charlie helped her, she had ended up with invisible peanut butter... Not that she minded him trying to cheer her up. It was actually very sweet of him. Sighing, Claire cocked her head at him and smiled coyly.
"All right, Charlie. I'll bite. What did you get me for my birthday?" She said. Her words brightened his face, and he seemed strengthened.
"Thought you'd never ask," he said with the toothy grin that she had become fond of seeing. With gusto, Charlie threw the cloth to the side, revealing a wooden stump, flattened, and covered in what Charlie wanted to pass as a tablecloth. There were two places set with plastic cutlery and a single paper plate for each of them.
"I rifled through some of the wreckage and found the mother load of disposable dinnerware," Charlie said, as if in awe of some religious artifact. He placed the log, the one he had removed earlier from Claire's path, next to one setting at the makeshift table. Claire took in everything in with a look of wonder and appreciation, but with another strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that she dismissed as the baby.
"Charlie..." she began. He held up a finger excitedly.
"Wait, that's not all." He pointed the finger to the log. "You just sit yourself down; I have to pop over a ways for the main dish." With that, he was gone. Claire was left to stare after him in shock. Slowly, as if in a daze, she lowered herself onto the seat that Charlie had made for her. Staring at the place set in front of her, she thought.
Had she really been moping so very terribly? Was it that noticeable? Why did Charlie always have to inconvenience himself to do something for her? The last question struck a chord in her chest, and she looked down quickly, as if embarrassed by something. Crashing in the underbrush signaled Charlie's return, and Claire's head snapped up at the sudden noise. He held something in his hands.
"Birthday dinner for two," he announced cheerfully as he leaned close to Claire's place at the table. "The menu includes fish and... fish." Two partially charred fillets of fish were loaded gently onto her plated, and two more landed rather unceremoniously on Charlie's. "Caught it and cooked it myself," he proclaimed proudly. "But, confidentially, I had to get some help from good Mr. Locke with the skinning and gutting and so on." The was a nearly imperceptible shudder in his movements as he knelt at his end of the table. Claire suppressed a laugh as best she could.
When she looked back up from her feet again, Charlie was pouring water into two wineglasses, which he must have found in his quest for cutlery. When he was finished, he placed one glass next to Claire's plate. Then their eyes met. For a moment, just one split-second flash, the entire island was still. Then Claire took her glass and the world moved once more. Swirling the water in her glass like wine, she smiled sweetly.
"Thank you, Charlie," she said to the wineglass. Charlie didn't reply for a pause, then came a smile.
"Least I could do for a friend on her birthday."
Friend. Claire mentally tasted the word. Charlie is my friend. For some strange reason, the word didn't seem to fit. Friend...
"Don't worry, I cooked it, so it won't hurt the baby," Charlie said with the slightest edge in his voice. "No raw seafood, y'know..." Claire looked up abruptly.
"Oh, no! It's not that, really." To prove this, she stuck her plastic fork into the tender fillet and placed it in her mouth. Despite the aftertaste of charred wood, it was actually rather good. After another silence, "I was just thinking..."
"About the baby?" Charlie asked. Claire flicked her eyes to his. He was almost finished with his fish. He took her silence for a yes. "I've been thinking about it too..."
"What?" Claire asked with a laugh. Charlie, flustered, tried to fix his mistake.
"Oh, no, nothing like that... whatever you were thinking about!" He nervously tapped his fingers on the table. Claire, attempting to abate her giggling, took a drink from her glass. "I mean... When he comes, wouldn't there be a lot of things he'd have to live without? What would we make the diapers out of? Banana leaves?"
Claire snorted violently into her wineglass, shoulders hunching, and spewed water across the table at Charlie. Both shocked at first, they were left to stare blankly at each other, then to the water dripping off of Charlie's person. Then both of them erupted into laughter.
The fish was finished without further incident, even though Charlie's shirt was only a part-cup away from being drenched. Claire emptied the fork into her mouth for the last time and sighed.
"Charlie, that was fantastic. I didn't know you knew how to cook."
"Well... I don't really," he said as his face reddened. "I mean, I did cook the fish, but... I sort of asked Michael to help a little..." Claire's laugh rang in the clearing.
"You tried, and that's all that really matters, Charlie," she told him with a playful air. Charlie reflected her grin with his, which he used so often. The seconds passed. His grin slowly melted into a gentler smile, barely turning up the corners of his lips. Claire had only seen that smile once before, when she had collapsed and Charlie had come to her in the tent. And he had smiled that warm smile, just as he was doing now. Claire faltered for a second only, then looked down into her glass shyly. Charlie seemed to shake himself awake, then smacked himself on the head.
"Charlie, you git! I almost forgot!" The wide, toothy grin had found its place again. "No birthday dinner is complete without dessert." He reached into the breast pocket of Jack's jacket, moving aside the flower, and brought his fist out with a flourish. He presented the clenched fist and its contents to Claire, who grinned despite herself.
"What is it?" She found herself involuntarily clasping her hands. Charlie slowly removed his fingers from her line of sight. Claire stared at what was laying in his upturned palm.
Four peanuts.
Claire gawked at them, then looked up to Charlie's eyes, which were contemplating the peanuts.
"How did you get them?" She asked at last. Charlie gave a dray laugh.
"I had to sell my soul to Sawyer, along with a few minor possessions." He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, and she saw that they were sparkling with excitement. Then Charlie shrugged in a wide movement. "I guess if you chew them enough, it might almost taste like peanut butter."
Claire gaped, open-mouthed, unable to think of any accurate words. Charlie took his free hand and opened Claire's hand with his own. All four peanuts were emptied into her hand. She stared at them. Just stared. Peanuts. This boy had gotten her peanuts for her birthday. She bit her bottom lip, and looked back to Charlie's smiling face. Suddenly, inexplicably, her eyes clouded with water. Charlie stopped smiling abruptly.
"Claire, are you all right?" He leaned across the table; his eyes were wrought with worry.
"Charlie..." she smiled though her misty eyes, "You got me peanuts..." She gave a short cough of a laugh and looked embarrassedly at the objects in her palm. "Sorry... I'm being childish, aren't I? It's just..." she looked, bleary-eyed, back at Charlie. "No one else would have done this for me. All of this." She exhaled, mentally and physically pulled herself back together. With a sense of finality, she placed two of the peanuts back in Charlie's hand.
"Claire, you don't-" he was cut off.
"Happy Birthday, Charlie," Claire told him with the best smile she could muster. After the briefest silence yet, Charlie barked out a laugh and took the peanuts in one hand and his glass full of water in the other.
"To our birthday, then," he said, hold thing the glass forward. Claire cheerfully clinked her glass against his.
"To our birthday," she echoed. They both drank deeply. Charlie smacked his lips and looked absently as his glass.
"It's a bit dry for my taste."
Claire laughed, clear as a bell. "Charlie, you are insufferable." She rolled the peanuts in her hands, unsure if she could possibly eat them. Then, she carefully cracked open their shells and stared at them. Without second thought, she tossed the nuts into her mouth and chewed them wistfully. She chewed and chewed until it became a weak imitation of peanut butter, just as Charlie had said. Finally, she swallowed it, savoring what could be the last taste of peanuts she would ever have. It took her a moment to realize that Charlie was watching her.
"Well?" He asked.
"Well what?" Claire retorted, raising an eyebrow.
"Were they worth my soul?"
Another laugh. "More than worth it."
Another smile. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult." They were both on their feet, and Charlie popped one peanut, whole, into his mouth, and the second into his pocket. "For a rainy day."
Before either of them knew what the other was thinking, Claire moved against Charlie and embraced him. He would have jumped back, shocked, if she hadn't put her hands on his back.
"Thank you, Charlie. Really. I promise, you'll never find me moping again if I get treated to a nice dinner every time I do." She felt Charlie's large hand gently, nervously, pat her on the back, as if trying to comfort him somehow. Just as she was about to detach herself from him, a noise sounded from the edge of the clearing.
"Whoa, dude," Hurley said in a low voice. Both Charlie and Claire turned to his voice, although Charlie could have sustained whiplash as the velocity he twirled toward the sound. "Sorry for, like, interrupting anything, guys." Hurley's eyes were wide as they moved from Charlie to Claire. "I'll... Just be going." The man was suddenly gone. Neither of them moved until Claire swiveled her head to stare at Charlie.
"Charlie... How did Hurley know where we were?" She gazed at him intently, and he dropped his eyes to the ground, his heart still thudding rapidly from two shocking moments right after the other.
"We... aren't really all that far out in the jungle..." With a grin, he moved to where Hurly had come from and moved a branch or two, revealing a path. The camp wasn't more than 100 meters down that path. Claire stared at the empty path, then laughed as she punched Charlie in the shoulder.
"You lout!" She shook her head in amazement. "You zigzagged me through 100 meters of jungle!"
"I may be a lout, but I'm a handsome lout," Charlie said, rubbing the spot where Claire's fits had dug into his shoulder. Claire laughed heartily.
That was something she couldn't deny.
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AN: All right, I knew I took plenty of liberties with this fic. Please don't flame me just for that. I love Charlie/Claire, and after seeing "Solitary" I started writing this fic. I didn't get it done until "Raised by Another" was finished, but... Yeah... I hope they're in character! Tell me what you think, this is my first Lost fic. If this does good, I might just post another fic. See ya later! -disappears in puff of smoke-