Out in the driveway, Sawyer unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel. Shannon opened the passenger door, put one foot inside the car, and pulled it out again just as quickly. He leaned across the seat and looked up at her. "What're you doin?"

"I'm not getting in that car, Sawyer." She responded, decisively, crossing her arms.

"Why," he asked, bewildered, "It ain't more than a year old. There's nothin' wrong with it."

"It smells like it's the last bastion of legal cigarette smoking in all of California, and that every chain smoker in the state uses it for an ash tray!" Shannon exclaimed. "If I get in that thing, I'm going to smell like I suddenly took up a three pack a day habit. And, Jesus, Boone's going to scrub me down like that shower scene in Silkwood, before he'll let me come to bed tonight."

"It ain't that bad." Sawyer protested.

"Christ Sawyer, you can barely see out the windshield, it's all distorted and disgusting from all the built up smoke. You'd have to run it through a car wash three times with the windows open before it'd even become marginally acceptable." She turned quickly to Andrew, who had just arrived at the car, having forgotten something in his room, "Do not get in that car." She snapped. He snatched his hand away from the door handle like he'd thrust his hand in a nest of vipers, and suddenly realized what he'd done.

"Why?" he asked.

Shannon gave him a look that immediately made him regret he'd questioned her. "Yeah, so not getting in that car, good call Shan." He back pedalled.

They compromised on taking Boone's car, and, after putting up with a bit of male posturing, Shannon relented and let Sawyer drive.

They tagged along with Sawyer as he browsed through store after store, not sure of what he was after, and not wanting to ask them what they wanted. He really didn't have a lot of experience buying Christmas gifts; most of his Christmases had been spent with this best friend Jack, as in Daniels, not Sheppard, that was for sure. It was kind of sad really, Jack would gladly have had him stay for Christmas. Though not one of Sawyer's biggest fans, like Boone, he wouldn't have wanted the man to have to spend Christmas alone.

When they stopped for lunch, he finally decided to throw in the towel, and appealed to Shannon for help. She'd been watching his growing frustration, but knew if she offered assistance he'd get all offended and refuse. Then they'd end up wandering through the purgatory of the pre-Christmas mall buying frenzy, unproductively, until just before the place closed. Shannon figured that at that point he'd end up desperately buying them all packs of gum, or fuzzy bunny slippers, or some other last ditch effort useless gift, though the thought of Boone wearing fuzzy bunny slippers kind of amused her.

She led him back through the mall to a store that carried a line of clothing that they all liked. She picked out a few items for each of them, and shoved them into his hands. When he went to pay, she picked out a few things for him and sent Andrew with her credit card to a different checkout register, wanting to surprise Sawyer on Christmas morning.

"What you got in the bag there Einstein?" he asked Andrew suspiciously, when they met up again outside the store.

"I forgot to get some stuff for Boone," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.

"Well now, we wouldn't want to have Metro ruinin' Christmas by cryin' 'cause you forgot him, now, would we?" Sawyer reached out and ruffled Andrew's hair.

Back home, after Shannon brought some wrapping paper, tape and scissors to the dining room, and closed the door leaving him alone to deal with his purchases, she went to find Boone.

He was huddled with Terry in one corner of the small commercial kitchen, obviously trying to explain to the kid how he wanted something done. He turned to her in response to her greeting, looking a little frustrated.

"Just do it the way I showed you, okay? You've just about got it." He patted Terry on the shoulder and smiled at him in encouragement. She loved watching him deal with people, he was so good at getting what he wanted without being pushy or seeming condescending. He crossed the room to where she stood at the entrance.

"Hey lover," she slid her arms around him and kissed him, speaking quietly as much to keep their conversation private, as not to disturb Terry.

"Hey babe, how was shopping? Did he rob any convenience stores or anything?" Boone kissed her back, leaning into her, letting her support his weight a bit. He'd been on his feet since five that morning and it was starting to get to him.

Shannon pulled back and frowned at him a bit, suddenly worried about him, he picked up on it immediately and straightened, smiling a lot more brightly than he felt. She shook her head; who the hell did he think he was that he figured he could mask something from her?

She suddenly wondered if he'd even bothered to eat anything that day.

"I had some breakfast when I got up, but, uh, I kind of gapped it on lunch." He confessed in answer to her unspoken question.

"You're an ass, you know that?" She informed him, "And, no, he didn't rob any convenience stores. Where do you get this stuff? He's not some petty criminal."

"No that's right; he's just a con artist and a murderer." And a royal pain in the ass, Boone added silently.

"Yeah, well, between the two of us, we've pretty much got both of those covered too, now don't we?" Shit, why'd I have to bring that up, she cursed herself.

Boone just looked at her, hurt, his brow furrowed. He hadn't thought about that in years, what he'd been forced to do. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, not wanting the images to form, but being unable to stop them.

"Come on," she redirected his thoughts, "I want you to see what we got him for Christmas."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the room. He called back over his shoulder to Terry, telling him to keep doing whatever it was he'd been about, and followed her obediently.

Up in their bedroom she closed the door and pulled the bag out from under the bed. Boone sat on the side of the bed and watched her with a smile on his face; she was so excited about the gifts she'd gotten for Sawyer. It wasn't so long ago that she'd been all about what she was going to receive; it said a lot about how much she'd changed that now it was more about what she was going to give. He loved her so much.

She looked at him sharply. "I know that, I love you too, you dumbass."

She pulled a couple of long sleeved thermal tee-shirts in bright green and hunter green out of the bag. "I thought they'd go really great with his eyes." She enthused.

She noticed his eyes? Boone thought a bit uncomfortably.

She was too intent of the contents of the bag to pick up on his brief flicker of jealousy. "These'll look fabulous on him, with his long legs." Shannon was holding up a pair of boot cut jeans.

How did she know his size? He wondered, while imagining all kinds of off colour reasons.

"And I know he likes wildly patterned shirts," she pulled something out of the bag that looked like a small child who had eaten some vile breakfast cereal had thrown up all over it.

Boone winced, "Nice, Shan." He hoped he sounded convincing.

"And this, he'll love." It was a denim jacket with a cord collar, lined in bright red plaid flannel.

"You did great hon," he assured her.

"You think I got him enough?" Shannon looked a little uncertain.

"Shannon, the guy invited himself for Christmas at the last minute, I think if we got him a pack of Life Savers, it'd be more than he was expecting." Boone ventured.

"I guess," she conceded.

"Come here," Boone ordered.

She went over to the bed, holding his shoulders, she climbed into his lap, straddling him linking her arms behind his neck, and asked, "What?"

"He'll like everything, especially spending Christmas day with you." He put his jealousy away, there were better things to spend your energy on he figured.

"I'll like spending Christmas day with you." She answered, losing herself momentarily in his incredible grey eyes; then kissing him.

"No Shan, I've got work to mpfff," his objection cut off as she kissed him again. They fell back on the bed, nature taking its' course from there.

She propped herself up on her elbow, and wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow, his breathing was still a little ragged, he looked a bit dazed and sex-stupid. Their clothes were everywhere, the sheets thick with the odour of sex. "Can't beat a little afternoon delight," Shannon commented, trying to get her own breathing under control, she'd played him again, he was so easy.

"No, I guess you can't." He grinned. "Christ I stink of sex, I'm going to have to shower before I go back to work, I don't want Terry to think…Oh fuck, Terry! I left him alone like half an hour ago. Shit!" Boone scrambled out of bed and headed for the door.

When he got back she asked him if he'd talked to Joan yet. "Fuck! Shit! Damn!" She took that as a no. "Okay, for Christmas? I want a home cloning kit, or more hours in the day, something like that." He pulled on his clothes and hurried from the room. She lay back against the pillows for a minute before getting up to shower herself.

She was standing in the kitchen, getting plates and silverware out for supper, hoping that Boone remembered that the rest of them liked to eat three squares a day, even if he was a scatterbrained idiot and forgot meal times. And just when was he going to come and get dinner ready, she was wondering, when Joan came in, a folded piece of paper in her hand and a stupefied expression on her face. She pulled a chair out from the table and sat.

"Joan?" Shannon asked.

She continued to stare at the surface of the table. "Joan?" she tried a little more forcibly.

The woman finally looked up. "Huh?"

Shannon frowned, "You okay?"

"He wants me to run the place." She replied staring off into nothingness.

Shannon kind of knew what she was going through, having had the same kind of epiphany herself when she realized the breadth of her new roll in the planned catering business, that morning. She laughed, "He wouldn't have asked if he didn't think you were up to it. My brother's not an idiot." Shit, after the party, and with Sawyer there, she'd gone back to referring to him as her brother. That was just too many kinds of awkward. "Boone, I mean. Boone's not an idiot."

"No, I know. It's just a little overwhelming. This was just supposed to be a job not a career. I mean, the kids are in high school, they don't need me at home, and my husband and I thought it'd be nice if I did something with my time. So I figured, after Boone hired me, that this was perfect. Now he wants me to run the place and for this kind of money, and a bonus!" She waved the paper in the air. "I haven't had a job in almost twenty years, now suddenly I'm management?"

Shannon sat and smiled at the woman. "Join the club of Boone Carlyle's stunned employees," she said, though he'd made it clear to Shannon that she wasn't going to be working for him, but with him. "He dropped a bomb on me today too." She went on to share her thoughts on what he had planned for her with respect to the new business.

"Ah," Shannon suddenly exclaimed, and grabbed her left wrist, Andrew, she thought vaguely.

"You okay?" Joan queried.

"No, I don't know, I guess so, ow." She continued to rub at her wrist.

Boone pushed through the door holding his left wrist as well, "Where's Andrew?"

"He went to Kevin's." She frowned at him, suddenly realizing why they were both holding their wrists.

She pushed the chair back and stood in alarm. "No."

"I'll find him." He grabbed his car keys from the hook and hurried out the back door.

Joan sat, frowning at Shannon wondering what was going on. She'd always been aware of an undercurrent of weirdness surrounding her employer and his fellow survivors, but there'd really been nothing she could put her finger on.

Sawyer came in next. "Somethin's happened to Einstein." He stated.

"You feel it too?" Shannon was almost in tears, Joan's presence completely forgotten. "Boone's gone to find him."

"Hey, Sticks, calm down. Ain't nothin' serious," He tried to reassure her.

"How the fuck would you know?" she rounded on him.

"I ain't your enemy here Shan, I didn't do nothin' to the boy," he spoke calmingly. "Probably ain't nothin' more than a broke wrist."

"I've never broken anything in my life, how bad does it hurt?" She was trying to stay focused.

"Well, now, Puddin', I ain't never broke anythin' neither, but Metro has, he broke his leg, and he lived through it." He reminded her.

"No Sawyer, he died through it, and Jack almost cut it off before Boone stopped him." She corrected.

Joan was sitting quietly, just absorbing the absurdity of it all; she was so stunned she probably couldn't have made her legs work to carry her out of the room even if she'd wanted to.

"Yeah, he died, but he came back, and it all turned out okay, now didn't it?" He was holding her shoulders, trying to keep her looking at him.

"See, that's my girl." From Joan's point of view, he started talking to himself.

"I know you are," he pulled her against his chest.

"Okay," He let her go, and tipped his head smiling at her.

Shannon caught sight of Joan off to his right, the woman's eyes wide. She pushed away from Sawyer, shaking her head, "Oh no, no. You are not sitting there, you are not." She tried to make herself believe that the entire incident hadn't played out in front of someone.

Sawyer turned around, and groaned, smacking himself on his forehead in frustration.

Joan looked from one of them to the other, "I…I…I didn't see anything. I'll just go now." She started to push her chair away from the table. Sawyer's hand came down on her shoulder.

"Now, girl, that's where you're wrong," Shannon shot him a look. "I think there's a bit of a story, you gotta hear first."