Title: Tell Me a Secret

Author: Megan or PITAchic, whichever you prefer.

Rating:T for a couple bad words and some mature situations

Disclaimer: Though it breaks my heart to say this, I must sadly admit that I own nothing that has anything to do with the brilliant and amazing show that is Lost. All things about Claire that were not previously mentioned on the show are figments of my imagination, and nothing else.

Spoilers: Confidence Man, Exodus

Couple: Sawyer/Claire

Author's Note: Hello, all! I have recently discovered that I'm a "closet ConMama fan" (as my best friend and I call it), soI decided to take a crack at a fic.I almost didn't get to post thisstory, 'cause my laptop was broken and I hadn't backed this up, but then it magically started working again (seriously…. I don't know what its problem is!). So anyway, I backed the story up right away and stayed up all night to finish it. I'm kinda nervous about posting it, so you all have to let me know if you like it or not. So, please read and review; it would be much appreciated. And just because I feel the need to say it, I still love you Charlie, and C/C rocks!


"Tell me a secret," she says to him one day, and he looks up from his spot on the sand, startled.

His eyes narrow as they follow her every move; she gently puts a sleeping Aaron in his cradle and goes about his tent as if she hadn't said anything at all.

"I don't think you want to know any of my secrets, Blondie," he answers after a few moments, his voice laced with sarcasm and hint of distain.

She comes and sits down right in front of him, and he feels a slight chill as her cold blue eyes make contact with his, causing him to look away.

There's a smirk on her face as she replies, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, Sawyer."

He still wasn't used to her forwardness sometimes. She seemed to be a considerably different woman from the one he had left when he sailed away on the raft a couple of months before. He supposed the threat of the Others, having your baby kidnapped and returned, and then finding out your new boyfriend was back on drugs, all in a 3-day period of time, would change anyone.

He had washed up on shore a few days after the raft launching, a bullet wound in his left shoulder. He was the only survivor, as far as anyone knew. She'd been hanging around ever since, first under the guise of helping him recover. But that's not why she came around anymore.

"What do you want to know that I haven't already told you?" He asks, eying her warily.

"Anything you want to share," she replies, a trace of satisfaction showing in the smile on her face.

"Okay then, Goldilocks; you wanna know a secret? My dad? He killed my mom and then shot himself on my bed. I was hiding underneath of it at the time," he says, watching her reaction carefully.

He was hoping to make her flinch, make her regret that she asked; then she could feel sorry for him like they always did and maybe she would stop wanting to know about the things he hid.

But she doesn't say 'I'm sorry' like he'd expected her to. Instead, she reaches out and puts her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. It isn't a gesture of pity really, more of a sign of understanding; it seems she knows that apologizing for something she couldn't prevent is a waste of breath.

"Now it's your turn," he says with his usual cockiness, making it sound as if it's fair play for her to have to share with the class too.

In reality, he's curious about her, more so now than he has ever been before. She pulls her hand away from his and crosses her arms. It's his turn to smirk now; he's made her uncomfortable. He thinks she might refuse to answer, but she sits up straight and looks back at him for a moment, considering her next words.

"My father left us when I was 11. My mum couldn't handle it; she started drinking a lot. When I was 14, some sleazebag boyfriend got her into drugs."

The muscles in his arms twitch as he gets the urge to go beat the shit out of Charlie right then, but he resists it as he watches her hesitate, uncertain about whether or not to continue.

After taking a deep breath, she goes on, "That's when she started hitting me; she had never touched me before that, no matter how much alcohol she had in her. When I was 17, I finally told her I was sick of supporting her habits. She kicked me out, but I was going to leave anyway. We haven't really talked since."

She just shakes her head wistfully, as if the simple motion can erase all her bad memories of the past.

"Your turn again," she says, in a tone that is rather upbeat after what she's just revealed to him.

She smiles, and he blinks at her in amazement. Everyone on this island had underestimated her, that's for sure. She wasn't the weak, defenseless Aussie girl that others assumed her to be. Though he had never really thought that about her; she had managed to escape from Ethan while she was almost 9 months pregnant, after all. She is just as strong as him, if not more so. The look in her eyes right now tells him that. And he's almost certain that nothing he reveals to her now will shock her.

"I killed someone. A few days before we boarded the plane. It was out of revenge; turns out I killed the wrong man," he drawls, and she notes a hint of regret in his voice.

He isn't surprised this time when she doesn't react negatively, just moves her head in acknowledgment. He nods at her, indicating it's her turn again.

"When I left home, I had to get a job; pay the rent for my crappy apartment, you know? Anyway, that's where I met Thomas."

"At Fish N' Chips?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at how lame her secret is compared to his.

"No, that came later. At the time I was working at this place called Oasis."

Sawyer's eyes widen as they wander down her body, then back up to meet her laughing eyes. Oasis was one place he had become familiar with while in Sydney.

"You were a stripper?" he asks incredulously.

"Only for a little while; once I started dating Thomas, I found a new job. He didn't like the thought of his girlfriend being watched by other guys. I probably would have been better off staying a stripper," she says, but he can tell she's joking.

"Good Lord, Woman! How come you never told me this before?"

"Because I wanted you to be surprised if I ever did a striptease for you," she teases.

"Are you planning on doing that anytime soon?"

"Maybe, if you're lucky," she tells him, and he finally can't stand it anymore as he grabs her and pulls her onto his lap, kissing her fervently.

Their hands roam each other's familiar bodies with a new sense of understanding and knowledge, and when they finally pull apart, he leans over and whispers in her ear, "I have another secret."

"What is it?" she asks, pressing her forehead against his.

"I love you, Claire."

"I love you too."


Fin

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