That Happy Story

By:

LiL Pippin Padfoot

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Disclaimer: OMG! Brickabrack! My mom thought that too! I told her she was nuts. Charlie and Claire are SO not dead. Where do our parents get these ideas? Anyway, what did Claire do wrong? Or Locke, well, Locke's wierd. I hate him. And I mean Boone got it on with his sister! Half-sister, but still, his sister.

"Yeah? What do I care about some pregnant girl, and a reject from VH1 hasbins?" - Sawyer

I think the black lady's name was Rose...

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Chapter 4

Thinking

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Charlie had been trying to figure out why. Why he had liked Claire, that is.

Charlie thought that it had been selfish of him. He had most likely only wanted to take care of Claire because of her...condition.

Charlie had been sitting on the beach, having no where else to go. He couldn't, he wouldn't, go back to the Caves, and Claire had stayed in them. He wanted to see Claire, but then again, he didn't.

Charlie sighed. This whole thing was getting to complicated. He wanted it the way it was before.

'Which before?' he asked himself. 'The Rockstar new girl every night before, or before with Claire? Eating imaginary peanut butter, talking about our lives, just being friends? Is that the before he wants?'

"Yes." he said outloud. He did want Claire back, as his friend, like she used to be. The way she used to look at him, how she laughed at all his stupid jokes, even when he had told her them before. All the things she had done.

Now, Charlie felt as if he didn't have a friend in the world.

"Here." Jack appeared at Charlie's side, and he set a bag and Charlie's guitar down. "I thought you might want these."

Charlie looked at him, then looked away. He didn't feel like talking to anyone or anything. Not even Claire, he wouldn't know what to say.

"All right." said Jack, who walked away.

Charlie picked up his guitar. He looked at it, running his fingers lightly over the strings, and the sides, all over it.

This is the only guitar he had ever owned. He had taken care of it ever since he had gotten it at age 13.

Liam had gottne new guitars almost every year, but Charlie had kept this one, it was his friend. When Liam had changed, his guitar was something of the days before.

Before. That word kept coming up. Before Driveshaft. Before Drugs. Before the Plane Crash. Before Claire. Before Ethan. Before Peanut Butter.

Charlie couldn't help wonder, would he, if Claire had known him, would he have been her friend?

Claire had been thinking as well. ack had explained to her all about Charlie saving him from the caves, about Locke taking Charlie's drugs in exchange for his guitar.

Charlie had said that he had told Claire about the drugs. Claire had squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember anything that might help her remember. Nothing. Charlie wasn't one to lie. Was he? Really, she hadn't known him. Not really. If she had, she couldn't remember him.

Night had fallen. Numerous stars shone in the clear sky. Claire watched them. She found her mind wandering to Charlie. The Charlie she knew. Would he have been as nice to her if wasn't pregnant? Would he have just dismissed her as a pretty girl. There were prettier out there, that Claire was sure of. Charlie was just trying to play hero. Deep down, Claire knew that was a lie. Charlie was being nice because that's how he is. He was nice, and sweet, and she had always felt safe with him. Even when she had first lost her memory, and had just seen him. He hadn't left her side, even when she didn't want him there, she felt like she needed him there.

Everyone was asleep so Claire thought. She wrapped the blanket around her, and stood up with some difficulty. She couldn't stay here. For some reason, the Caves felt as if she was being closed in on. Like they were walls, closing in on her.

Claire headed towards the path away.

"Where are you going?" it was the Iraqi.

"Oh," said Claire, "I was just going to, well, you know..."

The man looked at her.

How was she going to explain this.

"I have to go.."

The man blushed. "I'm sorry, I thought you were headed to the Beach. And you shouldn't go through the forest at night."

Claire nodded, and pretended to walk out to go to the bathroom, but then walked back into camp, her face was flushed. How could she be so stupid? If there was one person like Ethan there might be more. She'd have to wait till morning to go to the caves.

Rose had been ever watchful of Charlie. He had been sitting there, running his hands over his guitar. When night had started to fall, she had taken a blanket at put it over Charlie's shoulders without a word, and walked away.

Charlie continued to look out to sea, holding his guitar.

He wanted to be rescued. At one time, he hadn't. Wishing this island would go on forever and ever, and he could stay with Claire. If the rescue people found them...They would go to L.A. Charlie would go back into his old life most likely, Claire would have her baby, and be forced to give it up, and they'd never see each other again.

Charlie's hands struck a cord on his guitar without him meaning to.

He had played his guitar for Claire once. She had asked him. He had made up a silly song about a blue-eyed girl going on a journey looking for peanut-butter. Claire had giggled, and asked him to repeat it, and she had sang with him. Some of those words came back to him.

A pretty little blue-eyed girl, searching for peanut-butter in a mixed up world.

A pretty little blue-eyed girl, who found her peanut butter this crazy world.

It had made no sense, but Claire loved it. She thought it was cute. And she said that no one had ever written a song to her knowledge about a blue-eyed girl and peanut-butter.

Charlie smiled at that memory. The sun had shone down and they had been sitting on the beach. Charlie had gone on and on with the song, making it longer and longer, he couldn't even remember all of it now. Claire had been laughing.

"Who ever heard of a dump truck full of peanut-butter?" she'd asked him, after a particularly silly verse.

Charlie had just kept singing, and Claire had shook her head and laughed.

Charlie had tears in his eyes, that fell down his cheek and onto his guitar.

Soon dawn came, and people started to wake up.

Claire had been one of the first, she had fallen asleep eventually, but she had had a dream which she couldn't remember, but she wanted to. She was so sick of not remembering!

She looked at her diary. She hadn't read it. Not all of it. Most people thought she should've. Especially Kate. Yes, Kate had talked to her, telling her to read it, it may help her. Claire couldn't. Now she picked it up, and opened it to a random page. And this is what she read:

Dear Diary,

Today was one of the best days of my life! I told Charlie I was bored, so he picked up his guitar and began strumming it. I didn't know any of the songs he was singing, so he said he'd make up one. And he did! Right on the spot. Diary, it was so cute and funny, so much like Charlie. I remember all of it. It's too long to be written down here, but I'll right a part of it, one of the silliest parts.

'And then the blue-eyed girl was happy to see,

She had found a dump truck full of peanut-butter!

It was golden and brown, and the best bloody peanut-butter you could ever taste.'

You should have seen Charlie, his eyes would get big, and you could tell he was trying to be serious, but he just wanted to laugh.

Then he started telling jokes. My side aches from all the jokes. Some of them were funny, and others were just stupid, but I laughed all the same. Why? I don't know. Even the ones that weren't funny at all, I laughed, not to be fake, but just because it was Charlie that told them

Charlie has a way with things you wouldn't believe. He convinced me that a empty jar was full of peanut-butter. He convinced me that the joke "What did one mushroom say to the other mushroom? You're a real fun guy! (Fungi, get it?)" was funny. I don't know why, he makes me smile and laugh. I think if we were stranded on this island forever, as long as Charlie was here, I wouldn't mind, I don't think. Not at all.

I have to go. Charlie is getting impatient, and acting like a little kid, trying to see what I am writing, and I won't show him. I'll write more later maybe.

Claire smiled. The Iraqi was up now.

Claire stood up, taking her diary, and headed to the path.

"Where are you going?" he asked again

Claire smiled "To do what's right." she said, and she walked down the path.

Charlie hadn't move. Not an inch. Not even when his nose had itched. Or his leg fell asleep. Not even when his fingers had ached from playing his guitar. He had played it all night. That same tune he had made up for Claire.

It was morning, and everyone was up and wlaking around, a few people, he didn't know them, and came and listened, two of them even danced, but they realized he wasn't playing for them.

'How concieted they were.' Charlie thought 'I'm not playing for them. I don't know them. I'm playing for Claire. For what I used to know. What I thought I knew.'

Just then he heard something behind him. He thought maybe the dancers had returned, and he ignored it, until it began singing.

"And then the blue-eyed girl was happy to see,

She had found a dump truck full of peanut-butter!

It was golden and brown, and the best bloody peanut-butter you could ever taste!"

Charlie jumped up, his guitar falling off his knees. "Claire." he said

She smiled, then frowned. "Charlie," she said "I'm so sorry."

"I am too."

"For what?" asked Claire

"I don't know, but I am sorry."

Claire laughed. It made Charlie's heart soar to see Claire smile and laugh again.

"Will you sing me that song?" asked Claire "You know, you neve came up with an ending."

"I didn't?" asked Charlie.

"No." said Claire

"Well," he said slowly, "I'll have to fix that."

Charlie sat back down, facing Claire, and she sat down facing him. He began to hum and then strum his guitar.

"There was a pretty little blue-eyed girl from down under,

Who got lost one day while searching for her peanut-butter.

She thought for sure that once she found it, her journey would end, but it only started all over again..."

And Claire and Charlie burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Hurley walking over.

"Charlie can't end his song." said Claire "It just goes back to the begining."

"Not even." said Charlie. "I don't remember all of it either."

They began laughing again.

Hurley just shook his head, and wlaked away. He was happy that they were happy again.

Anyone that came on the beach that day would see people dancing, Claire sitting and laughing, Charlie hopping up and down and singing some crazy song about a pretty blue-eyed girl from down under.

That was the sight that greeted Jack, Kate, and Sayid.

"What's going on?" Sayid asked Shannon

Shannon shook her head. "I don't know. Charlie's had been playing all night, but it was like really sad, and then Claire showed up, and he began singing and laughing, and soon everyone was dancing. Wanna join?"

Sayid was a bit unsure, but Shannon dragged him out, and they began dancing.

Jack and Kate were laughing. Hurley was head banging, Locke was pretending to play an air guitar, and imitate Charlie, but Charlie, being younger had a definet advantage to jumping up and down, then landing on his knees.

Rose was on the side, clapping along with others. Micheal was dancing with Vincent, and everyone was just having fun.

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Brickabrack - You are the only one! That guessed the number thingamaggier.

Okay, so guess what you get! You get a pink post-it that says, 'Orly B is a HOBBET! MWA HA HA TOKEN SUX!" Yeah, my brother wrote it, and I am getting sick of looking at it. So you can have it!