"Boone?" he looked up, she was standing hesitantly in the doorway.
"What about my Aunt Bella?" he asked, picking up the name from her, but nothing else.
She came over to where he sat at the desk, "She's…. she…there was an accident…"
"What happened?" he pulled her to sit in his lap. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
"She's dead, Boone." She said softly. "That was your mother on the phone. There was a drunk driver; she died instantly. I'm sorry, honey."
He stared off into space for a minute, picturing Bella in his head. They'd last seen her almost a year ago; at a party Sabrina had thrown to celebrate their rescue. The party hadn't turned out well, they'd been pressured by everyone to recount stories of the island, but it was still too soon for them to be able to deal with it calmly. They'd ended up sitting together quietly in the house, hiding from everyone. Shannon in tears, Boone not far from them either. His Aunt had been one of the guests. Bella Hamilton had been his father's sister, a vivacious blonde woman in her late 40's.
"When's the funeral?" he asked her, feeling the tears welling in his eyes.
"This Saturday." She answered quietly; a tear tracing it's way down her cheek.
"We're not staying at my mother's house." He said definitely.
She lifted her head from his shoulder, "I know what happened that night, you know."
"What? I've never said anything to you." He knew immediately that she was referring to the night of Cindy's wedding.
"No, I know you haven't, but you've thought about it a few times." She ran her fingers through his hair.
He'd come upstairs that night, distracted, obviously with something on his mind. She'd asked him if he wanted to talk about it, but he'd said no.
"Stay out of my head, Shan." He warned.
"Do you want me to stop breathing too?" still crying, she thought about the absurdity of his request.
"No, of course not, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." He laughed when he realized how impossible it would have been for her to do what he'd just asked. "But when I say I don't want to talk about something, I mean it, and I don't expect you to resort to other methods to find out what it is."
"I'm sorry, and I'm sorry you're an idiot too." She laughed quietly back at him, turning his words against him, slightly ashamed of herself that she'd violated his privacy. "She was wrong, you know."
He was still thinking about Bella and didn't understand what she meant. "Who was wrong about what?"
"What she said about me, your mother," she supplied.
"I know that." Off course he knew she was wrong.
"I think I was just lashing out, trying to cope with everything. My mom, my dad, both dead, trapped in a house with a brother who loved me too much and a mother who didn't love me at all. But I appreciate that you stood up for me." She kissed him. She didn't want to talk about the rest of what had been said that night, also guessing that Boone had inadvertently been correct about Sabrina's reaction on hearing about the crash.
"You're my wife, my sister, of course I stood up for you. She's just a bitch." He wiped away the remnants of her tears. "God, I can't believe she's gone. I know we weren't particularly close, but I remember my dad and my Uncle Will and her doing all kinds of crazy things when I was a kid, before my dad died."
"We've been through a lot, haven't we?" she mused, "so much loss, so much pain."
"It certainly seems like we've had more than our share. Shit, I'm barely 24!" he though about how unfair life could be, how much older than his years he felt.
"Take me upstairs, Boone, please?" she suddenly needed to feel him, touch him, she needed to feel alive.
That Saturday, he pulled his black suit out of the closet yet again. He was getting so sick of wearing it, so much more used to everyday dress of jeans and t-shirts than the business attire he used to wear. They were going into the city early; Shannon didn't have anything appropriate to wear to a funeral, so they needed to pick something up before the service. He'd agreed to change at his mother's house, but nothing more. They were coming back home directly after the wake.
She drove; he was in the middle of a particularly interesting book and wanted to use the travel time to read a few more chapters. They didn't see the point in bringing Andrew to the funeral, so the two-seater car wasn't an obstacle. It was a beautiful day, so she'd lowered the convertible roof.
Reaching the city, she drove into a parking lot near one of her favourite stores. "Come," she commanded him, getting out of the car.
"Right…" he responded distractedly, not making a move to get out of the car, he kept his head bent over his book.
"Boone, now!" she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.
"Uh…sorry," He marked his place, and quickly got out of the car to follow her.
In the store she selected a few black dresses and disappeared into the change room to try them on. He sat quietly next to some other poor guy who'd obviously also been dragged out shopping as well, and was waiting for his girlfriend. "You too huh?" the guy asked in sympathy.
"Yeah," He shook his head, hoping Shannon wasn't watching. He'd catch shit for sure if she knew how much he didn't want to be there, he hid his thoughts carefully from her.
"Boone," he heard her voice from the dressing room area.
"Yeah, hon." He stood and moved to the entrance to the back.
"I need you to do up this zipper," she stuck her head out of one of the dressing rooms, beckoning him.
"Oh God," he groaned quietly to himself, moving down the aisle to help her.
He entered the dressing room and stood behind her. "Shan, this dress doesn't have a zipper."
"I know that, you idiot." She turned to face him and moved to undo the zipper on his jeans.
"No, no fucking way, we are not going to have sex in a dressing room, and, may I remind you that we're on our way to a funeral!" Her audacity never ceased to amaze and excite him.
"Keep your voice down, for Christ's sake." She shoved his pants to his ankles. "You can't tell me you've never done this before."
"Yeah, I can, 'cause I haven't." he lifted the dress up over her waist, he already knew that he wasn't going to be able to resist her, he never could. She'd already taken her underwear off.
He pushed her against the back wall as she slid her arms over his shoulders and lifted her legs to circle his waist. She dug her fingers into his hair. "Oh God, Boone, Boone I love you." She panted quietly against his neck.
He exited the dressing room minutes later. The guy he'd been sitting beside earlier was still there. "Nice one, man. I've always wanted to do that."
"What?" he pretended innocence, and flushed bright red in embarrassment.
"Sex in a dressing room, right on," the guy smiled at him.
"What? How did you know?" he grinned sheepishly. Hoping no one else had figured it out.
"It's only 'cause I've been sitting with you. I'm sure no one else knows." The guy reassured him.
Shannon came out with the dresses over her arm. She held one out to him; it was the one she'd just been wearing. "I'm getting this one, pay for it." She turned and went to hand the rejects to one of the sales staff.
He looked down at the guy, wanting for some unknown reason to throw a curve ball into his day. He wondered idly just how much of an influence her wild streak was having on him. "My sister's always making me pay for her clothes." While it was true, there was more to it than that, though the poor man had no way of knowing that. The guy looked back, now horrified at what he'd known they'd done in the dressing room.
When he told her, in the car, what he'd done, she laughed at him. "You're picking up bad habits from me."
They changed at Sabrina's house as they'd planned. The funeral was a small, subdued affair. He looked at his Aunt lying peacefully in her casket, far too young to have died. He wrapped his arm around Shannon, as she cried quietly. Bella had been one of his few relatives that she'd actually liked. Sabrina looked distastefully at the body of her former sister-in-law, thinking about the work she wasn't getting done because of her obligation to be there.
Will had, as usual, far too much to drink at his sister's wake. They were sitting quietly on a couch, talking to one of his cousins when they heard the raised voices.
"She was not!" they heard Will say loudly.
Someone must have answered him because the next thing they heard him say was "Fuck you." They looked over to see him throwing a punch at a man dressed, not surprisingly, in a black suit.
"Oh, God," Boone stood, moving to help stop the fight. "This sure puts the fun in funeral. But then I guess it's not a funeral 'till there's a fist fight, or is that just my family?"