Back upstairs she followed him into the bedroom, closing the door. He held his hand out for his t-shirt as she pulled it off over her head, putting it on the chair by the bed and adding his jeans when he took them off. She was already naked and in the bed when he slid between the sheets.
"So, just how tired are you, really?" she slid her hand over his chest, feeling the pattern of faint scars that were a reminder of the incident that almost claimed his life.
"I guess I'm not really all that tired," he smiled down at her.
She moved to slide onto him. "No, please Shan, don't." He closed his eyes, willing the images from six years ago to go away. Suddenly he felt threatened by her.
"Boone, I'm not going to do that again, you have to know that!" she couldn't believe that he still didn't trust her.
"I just need some time. Jesus I'm pathetic." He shook his head at his stupidity.
"Make love to me then, however you want, you lead, please?" she tried to reassure him.
"Okay," he kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer to him. He moved his hands over her, eventually sliding on top of her. He was still the best sex she'd ever had. He came more gently this time, shuddering against her. He heard her moan his name seconds later.
He suddenly wondered, since she left, how many men had heard the same thing, the sound of her voice speaking their name as she orgasmed.
He slid off of her and got out of the bed moving to the window, he wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the asphalt. "So, Shan, how many men have you had since you left? How many have heard you moan their name while you came?" He didn't know why it mattered to him.
He was standing in exactly the same place he'd stood six years before, when this had all started. She was disturbed by the repetition of it.
"Maybe you should be asking me how many men have heard me call your name." she responded, moving to stand beside him.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he snorted.
"No…of course not, it was a bad joke, I'm sorry." She reached a hand out to touch his shoulder.
"So, how many?" He flinched away from her touch, but wasn't going to leave this alone.
"Boone, don't, it won't change anything. I'm here with you now, what happened while I was away doesn't matter." She tried to reason with him.
"I want to know. How many men have had sex with my wife?" He turned away from the window. "How many?" He asked forcefully, insistently. He knew it was pointless; he didn't even care, really. He suddenly realized that it was all just a power play on his part.
She hung her head and shook it, shrugging. "I don't know…maybe six."
He closed his eyes, picturing her with another man. It was easy to do. He'd seen her with so many different boyfriends as they'd been growing up. Once, accidentally, he'd actually walked in on her having sex with one of them, staring at them in shock for a minute before silently leaving the room before they knew he was there. He'd run to his bedroom and sat shaking on the bed trying to get the image out of his head, shame at how he felt about her making it almost impossible.
"Does it change anything, knowing that?" she asked.
"No, I'm an idiot, I don't know why I needed to know," he led her back to the bed.
Snuggling up against him again, she raised her head, "So how about you?"
"What?" he closed his eyes, knowing what her reaction would be when she heard his answer.
"Since I left, how many women have sex with my incredibly gorgeous brother?" she threw in the last word just to try to lighten the mood.
He drew a deep breath before he told her the truth, "None."
"What!" she pulled away from him and sat on the bed. "Are you insane?" Shit, she thought, regretting her choice of words, given what he'd revealed downstairs.
"I just couldn't. Trying to get to know someone again, trying to connect, it all seemed like too much work. And there was the whole island thing, and the crash, and the stupid ESP thing, and the fact that I was married to my sister. Fuck! I did date though, but no one has shared my bed, not since we married, except for you." He felt like such a loser.
"God, Boone, I'm sorry, I didn't intend to make you feel bad. I just thought, that…given the way you look…you would have had….opportunities." She tried to put it delicately.
"Yeah, I did, but nothing ever came of them. Like I said, I just couldn't. Don't worry though, that you did. I always expected that you would. It's just you. And I don't judge you for it. I guess it's just because of the history that we have." He realized, surprised, that he didn't feel jealous at all, it seemed like such a waste of time.
She lay back down against him. "Jesus, we're strange."
"Yeah, we're pretty screwed up." God, how good she felt pressed up against him.
"Night, honey," She murmured against his shoulder.
"Yeah, night," he stroked the smoothness of her body as he fell asleep.
He felt the heat of the sun on his face. That didn't seem right…he frowned, still groggy from sleep. As the reason for his confusion sunk in, he jolted upright, dislodging Shannon's head from his shoulder. Holy shit, he thought, what the hell time was it? He realized that the sun was streaming in the bedroom window. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, the numbers 10:30 flashed back at him. He jumped out of the bed.
"Boone? What're you doing, where's the fire?" A suddenly wide-awake Shannon was looking at him quizzically, wondering why he was in such a panic.
"I slept in, I…" he stopped when he saw the note taped to the foot of the bed. 'Boone: Stop freaking out!' the first line read. He laughed, Andrew knew him too well. 'I let Joan in, the store's open. I took money from your wallet for lunch, aaand I took the bus to school. Dude; do NOT make me take it back home, that's just too much. Be SURE to pick me up at 4! A.' He pulled the note off the footboard and handed it to Shannon.
"Dude?" she laughed. "I guess you see Hurley a lot."
"Sometimes," he slid back between the sheets, the note having eliminated the need to rush. He pulled her against him, sighing. "God, I couldn't tell you the last time I took a day off."
"And I couldn't tell you the last time I worked," she laughed. "We're an odd pair aren't we?"
"That's putting it mildly. Come on let's shower, I don't want to waste the whole day," he got back out of the bed; suddenly feeling motivated to do something.
In the bathroom she immediately noted the changes he'd made, the room was twice the size it had been when she'd left. A huge shower stall dominated one corner. "You've made a lot of changes. I've been meaning to ask, what happened to Tom and Heather?"
"April relocated to Palm Springs, so they moved there to be near their grandchildren. It was about three years ago." He reached in the shower and turned the water on. "Andrew's got their old room now, and with the renovations I gave him an ensuite."
It started out as just a shower, but inevitably turned into more. She pulled his head towards her, as he pushed her up against the tiles.
After dressing they headed downstairs.
He pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and set the kettle on the stove.
"Tea?" he asked. "I've got some really good green tea from Sun."
"No, coffee," she replied.
"I don't have any back here, but there'll be some out front." He grabbed one of the mugs and headed for the store. "Come on, you can meet Joan."
She was just finishing with a customer, and smiled as she acknowledged Boone," Hey, Andrew said that your…" she stopped when she saw the woman behind him.
He laughed at what he knew she was going to say, "Yeah, my wife came back. This is Shannon."
"Hi, Shannon Rutherford, sorry to shock everyone like this." She smiled at the girl.
"No, no shock at all," she lied quickly, "Nice to meet you."
He poured Shannon's coffee and handed her the mug, "You okay if we take off for the rest of the day?"
"Sure, yes, of course." Joan, wondered why he'd think she wouldn't be.
Back in the kitchen, Shannon asked him, "You sound like you've got something planned. What?"
"You remember how to ride?" he poured the boiling water over the tea leaves in his mug.
"My bike! You still have my motorcycle? Of course, I remember!" She was ecstatic.
They spent the rest of the day out on the motorcycles, ending up at Andrew's school just before 4.
He came out of the school, and stopped suddenly, noticing them parked at the curb. Boone was sitting back, sideways against his bike, she was leaning forward, her hands on his thighs. They were talking, he was laughing at something she'd said. "Your dad has a new girlfriend?" the boy beside him asked.
"No, that's my mom." He was amazed at the sudden change in Boone. He rarely ever laughed at anything.
He walked towards them, just thankful he wasn't going to have to take the bus again, God how he hated it. "Boone?" he spoke as he neared hem.
Shannon pulled away from Boone, guiltily, as she heard his voice.
"Hey, I got your note." He laughed at his son. "No bus ride for you, sorry, I know how you like to ride with the unwashed masses."
"Yeah, I just love that." He answered, sarcastically. "Shan," he acknowledged her presence.
"Hi," she had no idea how to deal with him.
"I guess I'm going to have to answer to you," he said.
"What?" she had no idea what he was talking about.
He reached in his backpack and drew out a ragged copy of Watership Down. "We're studying this now, so I brought my copy." He pulled back the cover and showed her what she'd written there so many years ago. "You going to beat me up for touching it?"
"No, I don't suppose I am." She'd forgotten all about the book. She reached forward and ruffled his hair. It was the first time she'd touched him since she got back. They both felt the shock of the connection immediately. She snatched her hand away quickly as they stared at one another.
"Shan?" Boone had felt it too.
"I think we need to go home," was all she said.
"Yeah, I think we do." Andrew replied, as Boone held his helmet out to him.