Disclaimer: I don't own Lost, or Sayid…sadly.

Summary: Shannon teaches us the 5 Rules of Love. Will only have 4 or 5 chapters.

AN: Thank You! To all that read and review.

Rule 4: Learn how to carry on a conversation. Be able to sound intelligent, but not too intelligent as to make him feel intimidated or inferior. Talk about stuff that interests him, whether it be current events or comic books and cars. NEVER talk about yourself, men do not like self-centered women. A COMMON MISCONCEPTION: Guys don't need attention. This statement is FALSE, guys need some attention, too, even the badass ones.

Chapter 3

I dip my hand into the fresh water spring and hiss when it makes my cut sting, I pull my hand back out and hold it to my chest, while sending a glare at the water. 'I don't want to put my hand in there, it hurts.' The child in me whines. 'Stop being a baby.' I scold the child.

'Sayid said to make sure to wash the cut thoroughly that way it won't get infected.' The Angel on my shoulder reminds me.

'Yeah, but he's not here right now, so he'll never know if you wash the cut or not.' The Devil on the other shoulder validates.

'You know, the Devil's got a point.' I remark to the Angel.

'Of course he does, but then you'll be lying to Sayid if you listen to him.' The Angel counters.

'Sayid's off trying to find some cloth to bandage the cut with. He'll never know that you lied.' The Devil argues.

Normally, I would have listen to what the Devil was saying, but for some reason, the thought of lying to Sayid makes my stomach hurt.

"I thought I told you to wash your hand." Sayid teases. The Angel and Devil go POOF!

"It hurts." I whimper.

"Well, of course it does. It's cleaning out the infection." And while saying this he grabs my hand and plunges it into the water.

"Sayid! That hurts." I wail.

"My, you are very whinny today. Did you get enough sleep last night?" He's teasing me some more.

"Yes." I pout.

"Well, then why are you whining?"

"Because my hand hurts." I grumble.

"Yes, I've heard that." He laughs.

"It's not funny."

"Whatever you say." He's still laughing! Jackass.

A couple minutes pass by, while Sayid cleans my cut. With the exception of the rushing water, an occasional chuckle from Sayid and my pouting, then is no other sound.

Sayid continues to clean my hand in the water, I'm starting to think that my hand will go pruney it's been in the water so long.

"Um… I think the cut's clean." I say softly.

Sayid jumps a little at my voice.

"Yes, I think it is, too." He coughs a little, and lets go of my hand.

I dry my hand off on my shirt. Sayid picks up a long, thin piece of cloth, takes my hand and starts to bandage the cut.

"Where did you learn how to chop up plants?" I think he's making fun of my skill to cut plants.

"Well, I didn't learn how to chop up plants, exactly."

"Oh?" He sounds interested.

"Our cook, well, she's not our cook anymore. But anyway, she taught me."

"And what's her name?"

"Vicky."

"Why'd she teach you?" His voice holds a sense of curiosity.

"I am probably one of the pickiest eaters you will ever meet," I explained, "so, when I was little, I would sneak into the kitchen before dinner and ask Vicky to make me a sandwich. That way, when I didn't eat dinner, because I didn't like what was being served, I wouldn't be hungry later. So, I would sit there and watch her make the rest of dinner, chopping up vegetables, cooking meat, so on and so forth. We would talk about nothing important, and slowly, over the years, she became something of a best friend to me. When I was around twelve she offer to teach me the 'proper way to slice veggies,' as she says, and after that, I helped her with dinner everyday, after I had my sandwich, of course."

"What happened to her?" He inquired. By this time Sayid has finished bandaging my hand, but he doesn't let go, and I don't pull away.

"One day, when I was about 16, my stepmother, Boone's mum, walked in to ask Vicky a question about the dinner and found me, wearing an apron, slicing up veggies. She was outraged that Vicky would give me work to do with my hands and fired her on the spot."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, but it's ok, we talk on the phone sometimes now, I guess she got a job working in a restaurant owned by that chef on Food Network, Mario or something like that."

I laugh a little at the thought of what Vicky would do if she knew that I didn't know the name of a chef. Her voice would be high-pitched, and she'd most likely be threatening me with a wooden spoon covered in spaghetti sauce.

Sayid's starring at me again. I think of anything and everything to distract me from thinking about the way Sayid's looking at me. I can feel a blush running over my cheeks. 'Think, Shannon, think.'

'Oh my God! I just violated Rule 4: 'NEVER talk about yourself, men do not like self-centered women.' Ok, so, it's not the most substantial topic to keep me occupied, but it'll do the job.

'Eh, it's Sayid, it's not like I'm planning on going any farther with him then just as friends. And the Rules are to be used only when your trying to get the guy to want you.' For some reason the thought of never being with Sayid pulls at something in my chest, but I but I push the feeling away.

'Think of something to talk about, ask him something!' I scream at my brain.

Promptly I remember that Sayid never told me why he came to see me earlier, when I was slicing up plants.

"Why did you come to see?"

"When?" He furrows his brow.

"Just now, when I was cutting up the plants."

"Oh…" he seemed to be searching for an answer, "no reason, just came by to see if you had dried off." He smiles a little. He's turned his answer into a joke.

'Your not getting off that easily.' I comment to myself.

"Liar, you always need me to translate something when you come to see me, so what do you have for me to translate." I jest, but there's disappointment in his eyes, like he's hurt by the fact that I don't think that he just likes to come and see me.

"No, I have nothing for you to translate."

At that moment, Sayid looks down and realizes that he's still holding my hand. He automatically pulls it away as if it's been burnt. My hand grows cold immediately. He stands up, and looks like he's ready to bolt.

"Well, your hand is bandaged, I better go help Jack do something, bye."

He doesn't even wait for me to say good-bye before he high-tails it out of there.

"Yeah, bye." I say out loud, but no one is there to here me. 'I think I'll go pick some fruit…'

AN: I have the last chapter finished, it just needs to be edited, this story ended so soon! So sad, tear. Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter! THANK YOU to everyone the reviewed the last two chapters, each one made my day! Bye!