A/N: This was written for a friend for her 21st Birthday. We were in a Lost RPG, so this involves Claire Littleton and an Original male character. I was rather amused to find that Claire's character actually had a birthday on the show a few weeks later. Anyway, please enjoy and, as always, review. Thanks.

For Claire Bear on her 21 Birthday

21. 21 today. If I was in Los Angeles, I could be drinking, thought Claire Littleton. She ran a hand over her swollen belly. If I could drink. She smiled though, blonde hair fluttering around her rose coloured cheeks. I wonder what I would be doing at home anyway. Besides preparing for the major life change. Everyday she spent time thinking about the life about to come into the world, and how this was the last place she wanted to be when it did. She knew there was nothing to do about it though, so she made the most of it, and kept her hope and her sharp blue eyes on the beach. The other survivors adored her though, even if she didn't see it. Hardly anyone could ever be as optimistic as she.

Except for maybe a tall brunette kid named Brandon. He mostly kept to himself, but they caught glimpses of him every once and again. Usually for never more than seconds at a time, and when they blinked, he had disappeared again. He was always whistling though, or singing some distantly remembered song that briefly reminded them of something happier beyond this island. In addition, he was always working, hauling wood or carrying boxes into some unknown home in the vines. The only person he ever seemed to converse with was the expecting Miss Littleton himself, though Sawyer claimed he was sure as shoot the boy was gay.

Claire tipped her face to the sun, closing her eyes. She was rethinking her list of baby names. She had to have done this every day by now. It was becoming a hobby. She could sense the sun behind her eyelids, the electric patterns crossing over her closed eyes, but it suddenly changed and darkened. She opened her eyes again. Brandon was standing there; arms spread wide open and blocking the sun. He grinned. "Skin cancer was so last season."

She smiled. "Hello," she said, sitting straighter. He crashed down into the sand next to her. He had certainly loved the sun himself by the looks of his progressing tan. He was in a white wife-beater, his arms bare and to some curiosity, his armpits shaved. In fact, both his arms were too. He had on some board shorts, long and decorated in black and white flowers. He could have easily been a Hollister model, or Roxy or Billabong or countless other surfer gear companies. She stole her eyes back after a second though, not wanting to stare. He leaned back on his hands, letting his legs stretch out. They too were hairless. Somebody obviously had the lucky fortune of finding their razor.

"How's the beach watching today, Claire Bear?" he asked. The circles under his eyes were gone, and his hair frizzed out around his face hopelessly. She spread her palms up to the sky. "Same as always," she replied. "Pretty slow." He nodded, but shifted in the sand next to her. He pulled something out of his pocket but hid it behind his thigh casually. "Guess what interesting piece of news a little bird told me?" he asked.

"The secret to happiness is banana sun lotion?" she guessed, pulling her tiny tube out of the sand next to her and shaking it. She put a dot on her finger and without any protest from him, she rubbed it on his nose. "I see your practicing mothering," he said, his eyes crossing to look at the white smudge on his nose. "No, just being safe," she said, putting a little on her own cheeks before screwing the cap back on. Kate had brought it to her one day, though never mentioned where it had come from (or who she had to deal with to get it).

"Although that's a very good guess, I'm going with choice B. Claire Littleton's D.O.B. is four, twenty eight, nineteen eighty four. As it so happens, today is April 28," he said, lifting an eyebrow. Claire blinked. "How…?" she started, but he instead flashed a card at her. Her ID. "No one is using them, so I've been looking at everyone's vitals while their not around, then putting them back before they know they're gone," he said with a wink. Brandon was an oddity really, and she now ticked off successful pick-pocket on her list of strange yet enchanting talents he possessed. She took it back, making a face at her hideous picture on the little piece of plastic. "Not telling anyone, I see," he continued. He held up a finger before she could speak. "You can keep your reason, I don't see why you need to tell me anything. But all the same I brought you something."

He brandished the hidden hand at last, and dropped a bright coloured orange into her lap. "An orange!" she said, a little surprised. "I have a tree by my shelter," he said. "I've been eating them, so I can say they're at least relatively safe to eat." She turned the fruit over in her hands, its skin still warm from his own, and cool in the places he had not been touching it. She brought it up to her face and smelled the light citrus.

"I know it's not much of a gift…."

"I love it," she said, turning and looking him over. She smiled widely, her face lighting up. "It's a perfect gift. Even if we weren't here." They both stared at one another for a moment. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but only leaned forward and brought his hand up from the sand. He ran his fingers along the side of her face, pulling the hair back and gently tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered there for a moment, tracing down her jaw line before he dropped them and looked away at last. She did the same, and realized her short nails were digging into the orange. She relaxed her hand, surprised, and nudged her fingertip to one of the little crescent shaped marks.

"Well, I guess I should be going," he said awkwardly after a moment, his dark irises still fixed on the endless rolling of the ocean.

"You don't have to," Claire said almost immediately.

He shot her a grateful look, but shook his head anyway. "No, I don't want to keep you from your thoughts. Besides, your boyfriend looks jealous." He made a very subtle motion with his chin and she followed his indication. Charlie Pace grabbed a stick from the sand suddenly and got very busy, sharpening the end with a rock and looking too innocent and too suspicious at the same time. She blushed a tiny bit and turned back to Brandon. He had already wrestled out of the drifting dunes and was brushing himself off, stretching lazily. She looked down at the orange again thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. He crouched down so fast she didn't notice until his lips hit her cheek, his nose pressed into her skin for a mere second. It's amazing how the mind can capture a split second though. The feel, the angle, the lighting, even the smell of being so close rushed up all at once. She felt her body flush, and her cheeks turn colour but before she could gather herself enough to stammer out an exclamation of some kind, she turned to find she was alone again. How did he do that?

She let out a long sigh and brought the orange back up to look at, remembering she was still holding it. She relaxed her fingers and rolled it over once again. She blinked. It was leaking. Her nails had bit clear through the peel.