He was sound asleep when Shannon slipped under the duvet, happy to see that he was still sleeping. Jack had sent him to bed around midnight, it was well after three now, she figured it was the longest period of uninterrupted sleep he'd had in weeks. She snuggled up to him carefully, not wanting to wake him, but it was as if his body reacted automatically simply to the fact of her closeness. His eye lids fluttered briefly before opening slowly, he smiled at her sleepily and pulled her in for a kiss.
'Sleep, Boone,' she instructed, kissing him, then pulling away.
'I'll get enough sleep when I'm dead,' he responded, still half out of it.
She frowned at him, 'That was a pretty inappropriate comment for you to make.'
'Sorry,' he apologized.
'You think?' she retorted, sarcastically.
'Apparently not before I speak,' he shrugged, turning on his side to face her, all immediate thought of sleep gone as his hand trailed down the smoothness of her skin.
What the hell, Shannon thought, he was already awake, and she did want him, but then again she reflected; when didn't she?
They made love quietly; Claire smiled at the sounds coming from behind the closed door to their room, as she passed it on her way to bed. At least they were getting some, she thought ruefully, knowing that her own husband would be completely unconscious, sleeping off the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed.
Boone padded quietly down the back stairs. He'd woken just a while ago, a little groggy at the unaccustomed amount of sleep he'd gotten. Checking the clock on the kitchen wall, he wasn't surprised to see that it was after nine a.m. He'd gotten carefully out of bed, not wanting to wake Shannon, and after washing his face and hands and brushing his teeth, had headed downstairs.
Someone had finished cleaning up the kitchen for him, probably Jack and Kate, he thought. He headed out to the dining room to see how bad the damage was from the trashed buffet table, but stopped as he crossed the living room. Sawyer was passed out cold on the couch, an empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. Boone briefly considered getting a bucket of water and putting the guy's hand in it in retaliation for the hit last night, but figured he'd been acting childish enough in his fatigued state over the past few weeks without resorting to stupid frat boy pranks, besides if Sawyer peed all over Claire's couch it was Boone who'd be feeling the worst. Shannon had probably been right anyway, Sawyer had been more pissed off at the situation than at Boone himself. He pulled a blanket off the back of a chair and draped it over him.
In the dining room he was relieved to see that there was actually no evidence at all of the mishap, and headed back to the kitchen.
He put the kettle on the stove and stuck his head in the fridge, pulling various items out and setting them on the counter. Boone was standing at the counter, dressed in a t-shirt and some plaid flannel lounge pants, when she came quietly down the back stairs a while later, his hair was sticking up everywhere, though given its usual style, it didn't really look all that different.
"I just poured your tea," he informed her without turning.
Claire looked to the side counter, her steaming mug stood beside a plate holding two of his homemade peanut butter cookies. She smiled in appreciation, crossing the room to wrap her arms around his waist, standing on her tiptoes to kiss the side of his neck.
"What're you making?" she leaned to peer around him.
"Huevos Rancheros, I know they're Charlie's favourite." He provided.
"They are when you make them, when I do, not so much." She laughed.
"I made a jug of Bloody Mary's, it's on the table," He pointed with the knife at the jug, a little Ziploc of ice cubes floating in it, " and there's some fresh squeezed orange juice and a bottle of champagne in the fridge. I couldn't find the jalapenos for the eggs, though."
She pulled away from him and opened the fridge, reaching behind the pound of butter in the door, retrieving the elusive peppers. He looked at her, mystified, "I hid them for you; if Charlie had found them he would have eaten them."
She sipped from her mug and took a bite of one of the cookies, before putting voice to her concern, "You doing okay?"
Oh Christ, he thought, what is this a broken record? Hadn't he already been through this with Jack the night before? He took a deep breath, pushing down his irritation before responding, "I'm fine." Then he started worrying, "You said Shannon wasn't going to go anywhere, that we'd be happy, you weren't just saying that were you?"
"Boone, stop, you know I wouldn't lie to you, she's not going anywhere. It's just…you know…the future's not carved in stone, I'm worried about you," she explained. It was true, Shannon wasn't going to leave him again, but the happiness that she'd envisioned for them had started to be tinged with hints of sadness, and surprisingly enough, it had its roots in him. "You're not taking care of yourself properly are you? Jack told us all goodnight for you, said he'd sent you to bed, and Shannon and I sat up after everyone left, she told me what's been going on."
He looked ashamed, though all he'd really tried to do was be everything for everyone, not wanting to let anyone down and disappoint them. It was what he'd been doing his whole life. How could giving of yourself so much, make you feel so embarrassed, and like you'd let everyone down? "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's just you, but you don't have to try so hard, you've already got everyone's respect and approval, it's okay to say no sometimes, don't sacrifice yourself for everyone else." She knew he'd endlessly try too hard, attempting to earn the approval from others that he'd never gotten from his own mother. Claire stopped herself from going down that road, not wanting to cry in front of him for the sad, lonely little boy he must have been. No wonder he'd fallen in love with his step-sister, all Shannon had had to do was show him even marginal kindness.
"Boone?" Andrew was standing at the foot of the stairs.
He smiled at his son, "Morning bud." Claire greeted him too, not surprised when he responded to her question about Aaron, that Andrew had left him sound asleep. He came over to the counter to see what his dad was making before announcing that he was hungry, and that in answer to Boone's question, no, he couldn't wait till breakfast, he was a growing boy.
Boone fished around in the fridge and came out with a container of sandwiches, shrugging he held them out. "You want me to eat a tuna sandwich for breakfast?" he leaned around his dad, eyeing the container of cakes.
"No, I want you to eat eggs for breakfast, the sandwich is to tide you over 'till they're ready, and don't even think about asking for a cake." Boone warned, going back to the cutting board.
Claire hid a smile, Boone was so great with his son, correcting without making the boy feel bad, all kids should have it so good, like Boone himself, but that was in the past and couldn't ever be changed. She pulled a mug out of the cupboard and poured it half with tea, as Andrew got the milk from the fridge and topped it up, going to sit at the far side of the kitchen table so he could face them, and removing the lid from the Tupperware.
"So what did I miss last night?" he pulled out a sandwich, sniffed at it and took a bite.
Boone turned and leaned back against the side counter to face him, Claire pushed up against his left side, holding her mug in both hands; he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. "Well…" she started.
Andrew started snickering, "Charlie did what?"
She pursed her lips in annoyance, "Andrew, if you're going to ask a question, please have the good manners to wait till I have a chance to answer before responding." She sounded so prim they both started chuckling, she persisted in telling him the story he'd already picked out of both their heads.
"He's asleep on the couch," Boone remembered.
"Charlie?" she was momentarily confused, she'd left him snoring loudly in bed.
"No, Sawyer." He clarified.
"Well after what happened, I couldn't very well turn him out, and besides he'd had a lot to drink, I didn't want him driving. He was still pretty pissed after he came down from showering, it was a good thing he had an overnight bag in the car, Jin fetched it for him, so he had a change of clothes. He was still drinking when Shannon and I came in here to talk. I hid his car keys just in case he got some brilliant idea to leave during the night." She reached in the pocket of her robe and put them on the counter.
Shannon stood at the bottom of the stairs watching the three of them, thinking about how differently things could have turned out, how much like a family they looked. Andrew had been aware of her approach and gave her a look out of the side of his eye and shook his head marginally. She smiled at their private thought and came into the kitchen, "Morning fellow Craphole Islanders," she greeted.
She kissed Boone and Andrew, and, for good measure, Claire's cheek as well, before pouring herself a cup of coffee. For someone who didn't drink the stuff, Boone made a mean brew; she sipped it appreciatively before taking up a position on his right side. He slung his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
Abruptly something shifted in him, holding his two favourite women, his son in front of him, he came to a sudden decision, keeping it to himself for the moment. They all sensed a change and looked at him inquiringly. He tightened his hold on both of them, and smiled in relief. "I'm gonna do it." He slipped away from them and moved so he could see them all, a happy smile on his face.
"You're going to run away and join the circus?" was Shannon's guess.
"Sky diving instructor?" Claire teased.
"Basketball player?" Andrew threw out.
Boone glared at the last one. "Funny, very funny, when you don't grow past five-nine remind me to make fun of you too. No, I'm going to go into the catering business."
"Boone, you're already in the catering business." They all reminded him.
"I mean full time," he turned to Shannon. "I love it, I really do, I know I don't have any training, and I don't know if I'll have enough business to make it a full time thing, but…"
"What?" she interrupted, "Boone, I turn down jobs for you from as far as fifty miles away, you've got no idea how much business you don't get because I act as a buffer between you and total pandemonium. The only reason you're as overworked as you are, is because some go around my back and contact you directly. But honey, you've got to think about this, you're already in a Chernobyl sized meltdown."
"I know, I know, things have got to change, I've got to make some adjustments. I'm going to offer Joan my job at the store, make her general manager. Then I'm going to find a place, away from the house, where I can set up proper facilities, and I'm going to hire some staff." He finished, holding up his hands at the objection on her face.
Shannon studied him; she knew he really liked the whole cooking thing. There was no reason it wouldn't work, and even if it didn't, it wasn't like either one of them really had to work, there was just the whole disappointment thing, and how crushed he'd be. She had no doubt that the business would take off, she was just worried about how he was going to cope, and that she'd have to tell him to wind it down or he was going to end up a basket case.
"It's perfect, you should absolutely do it." Claire nodded in certainty, moving forward to kiss him, pulling him into a hug. "It'll work out smashingly." She added, pulling away and smiling up at him.
"Sounds great Boone," Andrew smiled, if it made his dad happy, and Claire sure seemed to think it would, then it'd be great.
"Shan?" he waited for her response.
"On one condition, I want to be your marketing director, and I want business cards, and I want my own office. Well, okay three conditions, I've never had a real job before; I'd like to work for you, if that's okay." Now she waited for his response.
"No, it's not okay." Her face fell, "We'd work for ourselves. This business has got to be as much yours as mine." She smiled even wider than before.
She spit in her palm and held it out, "Deal."
Boone looked at her outstretched hand, disgusted, Andrew and Claire just laughed. "Boone," Andrew prompted, "spit in your hand and shake on it."
Grimacing the whole time, he did as he was told.