Lost and Found

By: Saskia Mitchell

Rating: PG, for adult themes or content.

Summary: What's lost doesn't always remain so. A Boone/Shannon fic.

Archiving: Ask, and ye shall receive.

"So your sister's kind of a bitch," Kate huffed as her bottom claimed a patch of sand next to the one where Boone was perched. "I asked her to help me gather firewood, and I'm surprised she didn't give me the finger."

"My what?" Boone shook his head slightly, perplexed. It was clear to Kate that the world he had been waltzing through was very far from the one they were currently trapped in. It occurred to her that despite all the time she had spent with the industrious young man, she didn't know much about him at all. She did her best not to know much about anyone, but being trapped on a godforsaken island with not much else to do made talking, connecting with others, as necessary as breathing and eating.

"Shannon...your sister? I'm sorry, Claire said you were brother and sister, I just assumed," Kate babbled, charmingly. "I thought you were really lucky because at least you were with someone that you knew...you know, that you both survived."

"Shannon..." Boone trailed off, deep in thought. He dug fingers into the warm sand, then let it trickle back out slowly. He wondered if Shannon herself had told Claire of their connection, or if Claire had come across it herself, digging through the wreckage when she was trying to put together information for their memorial service to the other passengers. Somehow, he could see Shannon telling Claire, spitefully; knowing it would come back to haunt Boone later.

"So...she's not your sister?" Kate interrupted his busy thoughts.

Boone's lips twisted into a sad attempt at a smile. "Technically, yes, I suppose she is."

"Technically?" Kate's eyebrow rose, her expression bemused.

"It's a long story," Boone's answering sardonic laugh was without humor.

"Well, the last time I checked, we had a while. Bore me," Kate implored.

"Why should I burden you with my problems?" Boone asked, sharply, turning his head slightly to critically eye his companion. Kate seemed to be the only one left on this island that wasn't beaten down by the prospect of remaining forever. She looked alive, and happy, and...free.

"It looks like you need to burden someone," Kate whispered conspiratorially. "Why not me?" Her eyes sparkled with some mirth that Boone didn't quite recognize, and though he didn't know enough about her to say with certainty that she was the best confidante he could have chosen, she was right.

"I suppose you have a point," Boone shrugged. Kate thought for a moment that she should have stolen a couple of Sawyer's smokes for a conversation this heavy.

"So, she's not your sister?" Kate tried again, smiling. Boone grinned back, genuinely this time, and replied,

"No, she's not my sister."

"Only technically," Kate clarified, still smiling.

Boone's face melted into melancholy. "My parents, they died when I was fourteen, in a drive-by shooting, in New York City. They were in a good part of town; it was just this random thing no one could quite explain to me. Shannon's parents were my godparents. Bob, and Carol, they lived in the States until I was twelve, and then Bob got shipped to Australia."

"Navy brats?" Kate queried.

"Marines," Boone nodded. "My father and Shannon's father had been best friends since they met in boot camp. Shannon, she's uh, she's two years younger than I am."

"How long ago did it happen?" Kate asked softly.

"Um, eight...no, nine years ago now," Boone's voice wavered, but he didn't cry. "We lived in New Jersey at the time, and so when Bob and Carol came in for the funeral, they told me I could finish school there in Jersey and live with Carol's mom, or I could come back to Australia with them."

"Hmmm," was the only answer he received.

"I stayed, until I was eighteen, and when I graduated, I decided to go stay with them for a while before I went to college."

"They live in Sydney?"

"Just outside of the city," Boone nodded. "I hadn't seen Shannon since we were kids, and she was just...so beautiful," his voice was edged with a sadness that left Kate a little breathless. "I had this crazy Aunt, Sylvia, she read tea leaves and worshipped cats, and shit like that, and since she had never had children, when my parents died, she really wanted me. Bob and Carol were listed in my parents will, so the court let me choose, and I chose them."

Kate laughed softly.

"Carol had always tried really hard to make me feel like family, she stitched me a matching Christmas stocking, and she found me a job working in the bookstore on base, she cooked every night, stuff like that."

"She doesn't sound too bad."

"No, no," Boone shook his head emphatically. "She wasn't, they weren't, they both were great. They always told me I was a son to them."

"And what did Shannon say?"

"Shannon...she...we...Shannon and I," Boone sighed heavily. "I fell in love. Shannon fell in love with me; at least I thought she did. We were together all the time, it was just perfect. We traveled around Australia, we hiked and fished and camped together. I taught her about butterflies, and the wildlife, and the stars. We had a really good time."

"What changed?"

"Nothing, not at first. I enrolled in school in Sydney, and Shannon was finishing high school. Everything had been pretty secret, until Carol caught us in Shannon's room one day. We weren't even making love; we were just lying around, talking. We were going to go to the movies later that night, so Shannon got up to change. I was just watching her, she's so gorgeous; I just love to watch her. Carol was pretty pissed, she kicked me out," Boone took a short, halted breath.

"Where did you go?"

"Back to the States. I didn't have much of a choice, really. Carol and Bob had been helping with tuition, but the semester was already over, and I'd poisoned the well." He played with a leaf, twirling the stem between his long, artist fingers. They remained silent for several long minutes. Finally, he peeled the leaf into long, thin strands, and picked up the story again.

"I went to California, I went to art school, studied my ass off and worked the rest of the time. I had this great dream that when I finished, I was going to find a job and then bring Shannon over and...marry her, I guess," he snorted with incredulity.

"What happened?"

"I graduated, I went back to Australia to get her, we'd written letters for a while, but I hadn't gotten anything in six months or so."

"She had changed," Kate said quietly, her perception razor sharp.

"Yes, she had changed," Boone admitted softly. "She couldn't handle the stigma, I guess. She had turned into a total bitch. Rude, and snotty, and content with just being a stupid airhead, like all of her idiotic friends. Hanging out at the mall, and doing makeovers, and whatever else those bimbos do. Running up charges on Daddy's credit cards."

"So why was she on the plane? I mean, why was she coming back with you?"

"That's the funniest part, she wasn't. My flight wasn't scheduled to leave for another two weeks, I had wanted to give her time to pack up all of her things, and say goodbye to all of her friends, that kind of thing. When I realized...things were different," he swallowed the baseball that was crowding the back of his throat, "I moved my flight up, and I was going to go straight home. I didn't even get a chance to cry," Boone muttered, sounding dangerously like he was about to make up for lost time.

Kate's shoulder touched his, and he sucked in a deep breath, as if for sustenance.

"Shannon, she was just coming to the states for a vacation, to see some of her old friends, visit some relatives. On the flight back she was going to spend a week in Hawaii, waste some more money."

"It was just coincidence that you both ended up on the same flight," Kate assessed.

"It was fate," Boone disagreed, not unkindly. "I love her, and I will always love her. Even if she never sees it, or acknowledges it. I believe that we were stranded here together for a reason."

"That's why you were so pissed at first, that she was flirting with Charlie."

Boone shot her another curious glance.

"I see things," Kate shrugged.

"How long have we been on this island now?" Boone asked, as if he didn't know, as if he hadn't been counting the days studiously, thinking of nothing else.

"Sixty eight days," Kate sighed, dismal.

"You've been pretty stir-crazy," Boone grinned in understatement.

"It's so sweet that you noticed," Kate retorted dryly. She'd been driving Jack crazy with her frequent trips into the jungle, looking for food, looking for a water supply, looking for the French woman's transceiver. Just about any excuse would do, at this point. Jack was convinced she had a death wish, and she knew if it wasn't for the others, because they needed him, that Jack would come with her, to protect her. He never let her go without Sayid, or Boone, or one of the less-cowardly castaways. Never Sawyer, and never alone. It drove her sort of crazy at first, the fact that he was always watching over her. Now she basked in his affection, though he had never voiced it, she felt it just as surely as she felt the sun on her face after a hard rain.

"In sixty eight days, I've brought her every meal, I even cook them for her. I built her that hut," he pointed to the distance, where the poor excuse for a shack stood at the edge of the beach, where it met the forest. "Of course, the roof leaks when it rains," he quipped, rolling his eyes.

Kate chuckled, nodding. Their second week on the island, everyone was starting to get very sunburned, and without the fuselage to block the sun, and to give them makeshift shelter at night, all the survivors were starting to get antsy. Jack had commissioned everyone to start gathering wood, and reeds, anything and everything to build shelters.

As he lay next to Kate one night in their hut, he'd joked that it was like The Blue Lagoon, only less glamorous. Every time it rained, they had to rebuild the roof. It was just palm leaves laid over bamboo, anyway, but somehow the task always comforted her. It was something to do, something to keep her busy.

"And what kills me," Boone's voice pulled Kate from her reverie. "Is that she's so selfish. She still doesn't understand that we're here, and that we're here for a while. I'm starting to think no one is even looking anymore."

"And just when we thought the world was civilized."

"Kate!" Jack's voice drifted over the sand in their direction, and Kate turned her head towards the only hut with a tarp roof, their "command post", where Jack played hospital, and they stored the food, and remaining supplies.

"He needs me," Kate smiled mysteriously, and moved to rise.

"Hey, Kate. Thanks for listening," Boone gave her arm a small squeeze, and he was struck, suddenly, by the fact that her eyes belied her true age. Her eyes were old, like her soul, and wise.

"I don't have anything to gain by gossip," she assured him, knowing exactly what he needed to hear.

"I don't mind if you tell Jack," Boone looked down to his feet, and leaf he had destroyed. "I know you will, anyway."

Kate smiled again, enigmatic, as always, and headed towards the post. Boone's gaze drifted back up towards the hut that he shared with the woman he would die for. God only knew what she was doing now, painting her nails again, the same color. Or reading the same magazines, two months old now. Or maybe she was sleeping, with that sweet, childlike innocence that he adored about her so.

It wouldn't be this way forever, he promised himself. One day, Shannon would break. She would come to terms with the fact that they were stuck on this island, that they weren't leaving. She would come back to him; he had to believe it.

He dusted of his shorts as he stood, a fruitless gesture, to be certain. As he moved towards the small shelter, he briefly fantasized about the bronze skin, her honey-colored hair, her bright, beautiful eyes.

"Hi," ducking underneath the low roof, he caught her in a rare moment of productivity. Shannon looked up, a smile gracing her lovely features in a way that left Boone aching for breath. He sat next to her, and glanced around at all the various pieces of clothing littered around her. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I just...it's getting cold, at night. You get cold. Jack gave me one of the sewing kits, from the plane. I'm trying to stitch these clothes together...you know, to make a blanket."

Boone had to concentrate on not letting his jaw drop open in shock. Her handiwork was less than perfect, big loopy stitches with small droplets of blood in the seams, where she had stabbed her fingers with the needle. Boone nearly gasped, drawing her hands up into his lap for inspection.

"How long have you been working on this?" he demanded.

She ducked her head, shyly. "A while." He sensed it had been a lot longer than that, but he said nothing. He held her hand captive in his lap, idly stroking her baby-soft skin with his thumb until she pulled it back, embarrassed.

"Are you hungry?" he asked quietly. She hesitated, then nodded. He resisted the urge to kiss her, and settled for placing a soft peck on the top of her head.

"I'll go catch something," he promised. He crawled out onto the beach, and then turned to glance back at her one last time. She was already bent over her project again, content.

Boone's heart rose like a bird in the wind on its first day of flight.

FINIS