Author: Lazuli

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Lost is owned by that glorious bastard, J.J. Abrams. Love you, sugarplum.

Summary: A mercilessly hot day on the island inspires Shannon Rutherford to "take a day off". Swims, laziness, and hanging around the men of the island seem like a perfect way to pass the time. More importantly, she wants to know why Sayid has been avoiding her…

A new chapter. Happy Birthday, bitches. (gives all the SawyerSmirk)

Chapter Six

"…on a Rampage"

Claire desperately tried to keep up with Shannon, who, in some other life, must have enjoyed fame as an Olympic track runner.

"SHANNON!" she shouted at the receding figure in the distance, hoping to God that her water didn't break right there on the path. No response, the other blonde just kept running towards the beach, oblivious to everything and everyone around her. It was cute, really it was, but when you had an extremely pregnant girl waddling after you at half the speed of a koala bear, it was a bit much. Claire was seriously beginning to think of asking Walt to borrow Vincent's leash for Shannon. A bit drastic, yes, but very necessary.

"Should you be…" Locke didn't even have a chance to finish his sentence, as Claire just huffed by him, waving a hand to show that she was in a hurry. His eyebrows knit together in concern, "Claire, you should be resting."

"No time!" Claire gasped, "Have…to….catch….Shannon," Locke smirked, having seen the aforementioned girl bound past him a minute earlier, screaming and hollering about lipstick and eyeshadow. He assumed Claire had some knowledge of what was going on, but felt agitated about seeing the pregnant Australian running around in this state. Falling into step beside her for a few moments, he handed her his half-empty water bottle.

"I imagine you need this more than I do," he said kindly, and veered off into the brush before Claire had a chance to properly thank him. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig, cursing Shannon in her mind. Normally, if they were attending Hurley's run-of-the-mill-island-activity, Shannon wouldn't care half as much about her appearance. Showing up with a smug grin that plainly stated, "I'm the prettiest one here, and you all know it," was all she ever brought to the party. However, these circumstances were different. Wildly different. And Claire wouldn't even give a damn, if it weren't for her promise to Shannon that she'd make her look extra-special for her "date" with Sawyer tonight. Not that Shannon really cared about what Sawyer thought about her, in fact, he would probably be the farthest thing on her mind.

"Sayid," Claire muttered to herself, still somewhat in a state of disbelief, "Bloody Sayid," it had only been minutes ago when the former soldier had all but admitted his admiration for Shannon in front of them, and the repercussions were astounding. Shannon's newfound friendship with Charlie and Sawyer had struck something of a sympathetic chord in the two men, because both eagerly volunteered to set up a scheme in which she and Shannon would be their dates to Hurley's luau later that night. Sawyer had exclaimed that it was high time Shannon got a clue and realized that Sayid was crazy about her. Claire thought it was a nice gesture from him, especially given his reputation around the rest of the group. Charlie, though…her mouth twisted in an excited grin. She couldn't deny that the thought of going on a date with Charlie made her anxious, but in a very good way. Even if it did have an ulterior motive.

Red-faced and ready to kick Shannon in the bottom, Claire finally reached the edge of the beach, and made her way to Shannon's makeshift tent. She knew Shannon was there from the frustrated squeals that punctuated the crash of the waves on the shore, and from the various articles of clothing that were flying out of the tarp. Boone would have a fit once he saw the mess his sister had made. Claire huffed and sat down next to her friend's tent, massaging her stomach and whispering soothing apologies to her kicking unborn child.

"I'd like to remind you that as much as I'd love to help you, I'm in no freaking condition to be running after you like that," she snapped, unable to keep the tiredness out of her voice. The rustling in the tent stopped, and Claire saw a blonde head emerge, and Shannon's apologetic eyes stared at her.

"I'm sorry, Claire," she said, sincerely, "You know me and how I get crazy sometimes," She disappeared back into the tent, and emerged a second later with a gauzy blue top. Holding it up against her, she squealed happily.

"Gorgeous!" she shrieked. Claire bit her lip as the baby kicked again. Unfortunately, that's not how Shannon saw it. Her face dropped, and a look of horror came over her face.

"You hate it!" Shannon screeched, and threw the top down to the growing mountain of clothes on the sand. At that point, Claire was so exhausted she didn't even bother to correct her.

"How about red?" A red tank top flew out and landed near Claire's feet. Claire drank some more water, and composed herself. Leaning over, she picked up the tiny shirt, and wrinkled her nose. So skinny. She hated it.

"You're a bit sunburnt, love," Claire called back, "It'll make you look like a lobster." Shannon let out a wail inside the tent, and threw more clothes out on her tent.

"I can't believe Brian took my Prada dress," she wailed, "It would have looked so friggin' awesome on me right now, had a slit up to there and everything." Claire looked at the tarp in confusion.

"Why would a man want a dress?" she asked, eyebrow raised. Shannon didn't answer, "Shannon? Shaaaaaaan…." Her inquiries were answered a moment later, when Shannon emerged from the tent, a triumphant (with, Claire admitted, a tint of crazy) grin on her face, holding a black bikini with a sheer black sarong. She wordlessly held it up to herself, looking down at her, then looked at Claire, almost timidly, for approval. Like Claire could shoot her down. It was a gorgeous piece. She let a smile slip, and nodded excitedly, so much so that Shannon yelped happily and threw herself at Claire, hugging her.

"This poor man," Claire allowed Shannon to help her to her feet, chuckling at the thought of Sayid's face when he saw Shannon in this getup, "…is going to have a heart attack." Shannon stuffed the outfit and some of her makeup into a small backpack.

"And he'll love every second of it," she crowed.

In the forest.

"Shannon and Sawyer!" Jack looked at Sayid in amazement, lifting his head from the makeshift pillow made from his shirt, "You've got to be kidding me." Sayid didn't answer, just stared moodily into the ocean, his eyes darkening. Jack propped himself up on one arm, and stared with concern.

"I thought he liked Kate," Jack said, still not believing what he had just heard. Sayid threw a rock half-heartedly at a tree.

"Apparently, he's moved on," his voice was low, reflecting the black mood he had been in ever since he'd stumbled away from the camp, away from Sawyer's smirk, away from Charlie and Claire's confusion, and away Hurley's bewilderment. Mostly, he wanted to get away from the dawning knowledge that he saw in Shannon's eyes. She knew. She knew.

Jack sighed, feeling that he was in the dark about something. He was used to Sayid's fondness for brooding, but this was to the extremes.

"Well," he said, sipping his water, and tossing it to Sayid, who caught it with his perfect reflexes, "I can't exactly say I'm sorry to see he's moved on. The way he would look at her…," a twinge of old jealousy came back, "I'm just glad he's over it." He grinned at Sayid, happy that there was no longer an obstacle between him and Kate. The smile faded as soon as he saw Sayid begin to grind his knuckles on his leg. "What is WITH you?" Sayid caught Jack's eyes, and felt that overwhelming surge of defeat come over him once again. He had lost the battle, and though he was normally not one to share his feelings, he knew he could trust the doctor.

"Of all the people," he stated, "He had to choose her." Jack continued to stare at him, "Shannon." That same light that he had seen in the girl's eyes now flashed in the other man's. Jack sat back, slowly, never taking his eyes off of Sayid's.

"You like her," Jack said, his voice tinged with awe. Sayid looked down, shame coming over him.

"It's pathetic," he groused, "I feel as if I am a young boy with a crush. Not only that, but it is on a woman almost half my age, who used to stand for everything I hated about the world."

"No one can help who they fall for," Jack interrupted, suddenly feeling sorry about his happiness of Sawyer choosing Shannon over Kate, "You shouldn't look at this as a bad thing…" He stopped when Sayid stood up, clearly not done.

"And what's worse!" he ranted, shouting, pacing back and forth in the small clearing he and Jack sat in, "is that she's gone for the one man on this island whom I despise the most! Sawyer…" he snarled the name, baring his teeth and reminding Jack of an angry panther, "He's a leech. A leech that sucks off of people's emotions, off of their fear and off of their anger. I should have never tortured him, I should have never done hurt him that day-" his voice broke, and he stood with his arms hanging down at his sides, eyes saddened, suddenly looking like a little lost boy.

"If I had known karma would have come back to me in such a fashion…," he continued in a whisper, and Jack's heart lurched, "I would never have even touched him." He hung his head and squeezed his eyes defiantly, "All the pain he felt, all the anguish I made him feel, has now come back to me threefold, and it is absolutely unbearable."

Jack remained stationed at his spot on the ground, unable to move, his mind going off in so many different directions that he thought he would pass out. Sayid was jealous of Sawyer because Sawyer had obviously staked a claim on Shannon. Worse, he felt that the heartbreak he was feeling was a direct result of torturing Sawyer for the whereabouts of Shannon's asthma medication, something which Sawyer later admitted he didn't even have. It made Jack sick to see the usually strong and resilient man look as broken as he did now. Gathering his courage, he opened his mouth to say a word of comfort to his friend, but Sayid abruptly turned to him, eyes flashing.

"You will not say a word of this to anyone." It wasn't a question. Jack nodded. Like he's say no to a man who, right now, looked as stable as a ship in a storm. He found his voice.

"Are you coming tonight?" he asked quietly. Sayid was silent for a moment, looking off into the distance, then answered him.

"No."

At the caves.

"…smartest, wiliest, coolest, craftiest, sneakiest, most devious sumbitch alive," Sawyer finished his long list of self-descriptive adjectives with his trademark grin, wallowing in the pool.

"Dumbest," Walt added. Sawyer looked over the top of his stolen sunglasses, giving the young boy a look.

"Craziest," Charlie muttered, "…for going up against a bleeding former soldier who specializes in torture, all over some silly blonde bint who cares more about nail polish than survival."

"Hey now," Sawyer drawled, "That's my date you're talking about. A little respect please." He paused,thinking, "I'd like to amend that list to add 'sexiest' as well." Walt snorted, "Oh, what are YOU laughing at, kid?"

"You're funny, Mr. Sawyer," the boy said, cracking a smile. Sawyer looked positively affronted.

"I am not funny," he said, attempting a sneer, "I am a mean, mean, mean man. One whom you should hold in the highest respect, because if I find out one day that that dog of yours has been in my stash, I'm coming after you with one of Locke's knives." The threat didn't go over as well as he would have liked, because Walt giggled some more and climbed out of the pool, playfully splashing water at Sawyer as he did so. The Southern man was too engrossed in his own genius to properly respond to the attack, and ended up getting a face full of water. Sputtering, he reached over to grab Walt, who danced out of his reach, then ran for the safety of his father on the other side of the caves. Sawyer leaned back in the pool, a disgruntled look on his face. He glanced up when he heard a snickering. Charlie was hiding his mouth in his hand, but it was fairly obvious to Sawyer that he was hiding a huge smile.

"Oh, shut up, midget," he tried the sneer again, but gave it up after Charlie just shook his head.

"He likes you, brother," Charlie nodded his head at Walt, who was excitedly recounting his second harrowing attack on Sawyer in a day to a less-than-thrilled Michael. Sawyer scoffed.

"Don't reckon Daddy'll be askin' me to babysit anytime soon," he noted dryly, and dunked his hair back in the pool, "Jesus above, when is this heat gonna let up?"

"So, what do you think will happen tonight? At Hurley's little party?" Charlie asked, looking around at the other castaways, most of them still taking refuge in the shade from the sun. Sawyer scrubbed dirt off his fingernails, then took off his sunglasses.

"Well, my friend, you and I are engaging in the fine art of raising hell," he frowned when the speck refused to come off, "if there's one person I can stand on this island besides you, Kate, and the Aussie, it's the Princess. And it's come to my attention of late that the Sultan does, indeed, carry a bright blooming torch for her. Now, as much as I hate his guts for stringing me to a tree and engaging in a little after-hours torture instead of fighting me like a man should, I can tell that he'd treat Miss America right."

"You're such a good Samaritan," Charlie commented sarcastically. Sawyer ignored him, and went on.

"Now, I also have observed that my social standing on this island is less than perfect. Therefore, by showing what a true gentleman I am and bringing Aladdin and Jasmine together, I figure people will stop blaming me for every little damn thing that goes wrong," He flashed his Chesire Cat smile at Charlie, "Power on this dirt heap is what I'm after my friend, and I'm sick of St. Jack lording it over me that more people run crying to him than to me. Especially her Holiness Kate." Charlie leaned his chin on his knuckles.

"So…by pretending to go after a girl who is liked by another man whom you actually hate in order to impress another girl whom you actually really like in order to also piss off another man you hate by going on a double date with two other people whom I don't even know if you like or hate," he stopped, confused, "You're going to make people like you?" Charlie shook his head, "Bugger me."

"I'd say that's the jist of it, yeah," Sawyer gleefully replied. Charlie still wasn't convinced.

"Whatever happened to 'Big Bad Sawyer' who didn't give a rat's ass what others thought about him?" he demanded, "I refuse to accept this new bloke that you've turned into."

"Times are a-changin'," Sawyer slipped the sunglasses back on, "You've got to learn to adjust to the climate around you."

"You sound like Locke," Charlie said, kicking a pebble toward the older man. Sawyer just relaxed back into the pool.

"I'll take comparisons to him over God's Friggin' Gift to Humanity any day."

At the beach

Hurley trudged over to Shannon's tent, where she and Claire were in the middle of discussing skin tones and what shades of rouge to use.

"Hey, girls, sorry to interrupt," he looked apologetic, "But I figure that since you two are chicks, you'd know about this stuff better than I would." They smiled, and encouraged him to go on, "Okay, we're all set with the wood, and the food, and the music, but I don't know, some of the others want to put flowers on places. Would that look too girly? Or what?"

"Hibiscus flowers," Shannon said immediately, "Big white ones. Find as many as possible, and put them on the ground EVERYWHERE." She sighed, "So romantic." Hurley felt his masculinity threatened and balked.

"Come on, Shan, there's going to be guys there too. Guys that aren't comfortable sitting ass-deep in flowers." The Princess just shook her head. Claire tried a different approach.

"Maybe if you just added some in as decorative touches," she suggested helpfully, that ever-present cheerful smile on her face, "Not many, a few here and there, just to make it a little pretty." Hurley shook his head, liking the idea.

"Cool, cool. Oh, and did you hear the news? Locke and Boone caught a boar for tonight," he stopped, and snickered, "Actually, Boone accidentally fell on it, and Locke just grabbed it right after." The girls laughed.

"Sounds like my brother," Shannon said, picking up her mascara and inspecting it carefully, "Idiot. You should have seen him trying to hunt today; it was the funniest thing I've ever watched. Sawyer and Charlie and I just made fun of him the whole time."

"Aren't you guys The Three Musketeers," Hurley teased, "Okay, I gotta get going. Thanks guys. It'll be in a few hours," he pointed at the sun, which was considerable lower in the sky, "And it'll have cooled off a little by then. Which, is awesome, because I've been walking into the ocean every five minutes, and I think Jin is mad at me for scaring all the fish away." He turned to walk away, then looked back.

"Hey, you're still going with Sawyer, right Shannon?" The question was innocent, but it was evident he remembered the events that had occurred earlier. Shannon bit her lip.

"Yeah, I am." Hurley laughed.

"Wearing something cool?" He asked. Shannon waggled her eyebrows in response. The heavyset man nodded.

"Dude, I hope so. Sayid's gonna flip."

End Chapter Six.

Author's notes: After various exclamations of love, professions of loyalty, and even a few death threats sent via email (seriously people, death threats?) I give to you Chapter Six. Sorry it took so long to get out, my lovelies, but I've had art homework for my Design 101 class at college, and it has been a doozy to finish on time. Also, my computer went on strike, and refused to work, no matter how many times I beat the screen, wailing like a baby. Bastard. Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you a bastard, don't short out on me! (pouty grin)

I've been going around Lost boards, and I saw this fic recommended by a couple of people, to which I say, "You are fabulous." Seriously, the face, she is blushing. I am not worthy of your love. And to the person who emailed me and asked me why I didn't post on the Lost forum board on Lost Media, it's because the damn thing won't let me sign on. Grrrr. I'm usually at the TWoP Lost board, though, under a different alias. Cause I'm sneaky like that. But yeah, if you want to put "Hot Child" up on a fanfic site, just tell me, and I'll be more than happy to oblige.

Poor Boone. I kid because I love.

Read and Review, hos. So I can feel all compelled to write faster. Ending won't be for another couple of chapters. 