In the upstairs bathroom, as he got ready for bed, Boone considered what he'd said to Sawyer in the den. He didn't like to dwell on it, for obvious reasons, he was pretty certain, logically, that she was back for good, but sometimes affairs of the heart weren't exactly logical, but strictly emotional, and he was certainly more emotional that most guys. She did love him; he was as certain of that as he was of his own name, but then she'd loved him when she'd left him, too, so it wasn't about that. God, he had to stop this, he was going to drive himself crazy, and he'd already proven once that he could certainly manage to do that without too much trouble. He pushed it from his mind and crossed the hallway to their bedroom.
When he slid between the sheets; Shannon rolled over and snuggled up against him automatically. He was exhausted, more emotionally than physically, but still, all he wanted to do was sleep, his body had other ideas however. He found that he was hard, the feel of her pressed against him, even still mostly clothed, making his hand want to reach out and touch her. His right hand snaked across his body, and he stroked her breast through her tee shirt. She moaned in her sleep, not completely waking, but not fully asleep any more either. He kept up the motion, watching her face in the ambient light that shone through the uncurtained window.
Her breathing got heavier, and she moaned again. Her eyelids flickered briefly before she asked, "Aren't you tired? You, really want to have sex now?"
"Seems like," He replied, covering her mouth with his and sliding his hand up under her shirt.
They had sex, not just once but several times, it was like the end of the world was approaching and they only had so much time left. He wasn't sure if it was a reflection of the emotions and events of the day they'd just had, or just that somehow they'd turned into sex fiends. She whimpered into his hair, as he pulled her, again and again, against him. In the end, she was lying face down, pillows under her hips, he was draped across her back, buried deep inside her, his hand trapped, where she'd guided it, between the pillows and her body, when they finally fell asleep.
Quiet tapping at the door awakened him, "Guys?" Andrew called.
Boone roused himself, realizing the incredibly compromising position he was in. "Baby, wake up." He slid his hips backwards, pulling out of her.
The motion caused her to awaken, frowning, "No," she moaned.
"Shan, honey, Andrew's at the door, wake up, it's morning." God, they hadn't slept like that in years, entangled in one another like lovesick adolescents. He lay by her side.
"Boone?" She was trying to clear her sleep fogged mind.
"Yeah, it's me, who the hell else did you expect?" He asked in amusement, then quickly willed her not to answer that.
"God I love it when we do that." She commented, thinking about what they done before they'd fallen asleep, her eyelids fluttering.
"I know, but it takes me forever to get you to relax enough, it's truly frustrating." He watched as her eyes blinked open.
"Boone?" Andrew asked, outside the door.
She pulled the pillows out from under her hips and handed one to him, putting one up under her head as she rolled over, "Yeah, Andrew, come on in." She hoped they didn't look too sex-stupid.
The door opened, he was still in his underwear and jacket from the day before. "I want to have a shower, but I can't get my clothes off, and my arm hurts." He was holding his left arm up across his body. He looked at them strangely, they looked even more odd than usual, and they often looked pretty odd when he knocked on their door on a random morning, he didn't even want to think about what they might have been doing. God, were everyone's parents so strange?
"Okay, bud, I'm coming," Boone slipped out of the bed and put on his boxers, smiling at him and crossing the room. He pulled the door shut behind him after shooting her a look of panic; Andrew hadn't exactly looked like he hadn't suspected something.
They went downstairs where he grabbed a pair of scissors out of a kitchen drawer and finished sawing the sleeve off the boy's jacket and hoodie, then gave him a couple of the painkillers that the doctor had given him from the night before. Back up in the ensuite off Andrew's room, Boone helped him take off the remnants of the jacket and duct taped a plastic bag around his forearm. The cast stretched from the second joint of his fingers to just short of his elbow.
Boone looked at the boy, this wasn't going to work, he thought. "You're going to need help, aren't you?"
"Huh? Why?" he asked.
"Well, you've only got one functioning arm, so how are you going to wash your hair, and yourself?" He raised an eyebrow.
"This is so embarrassing." He moaned.
"Tell me about it, you think it was easy having Sun bathe me for a couple of weeks after I broke my leg? That's embarrassing." Boone offered. "Come on it'll be easier in our bathroom."
They headed down the hall. The shower stall in the main bathroom was much larger than the standard bathtub one in Andrew's room, so it only made sense. Boone reached in and turned on the water; they both took off their underwear and entered the enclosure. Truth be told, it really was kind of embarrassing, they were both feeling pretty awkward.
They were almost done; Boone was just rinsing his hair when Shannon pulled the glass door open, "Boone, I…"
Andrew squealed and ducked behind Boone, who was startled and almost fell as he spun towards the door, not sure if it was the unexpected opening of the door or the boy's sudden outburst that caused him to jump. He was relieved to see that she wasn't naked, preparing to shower with him, after all it was a common occurrence. Andrew was already embarrassed enough about having Boone shower with him, without seeing his mother in the nude.
"Oh, sorry, guys, I thought you were alone, Boone." She commented. She smiled at Andrew, "How's your arm today?"
"Uh, it hurts," He winced at her, trying to figure out why she'd attempt to carry on a normal conversation, given the circumstances. "But couldn't we do this some other time, like when I've got clothes on?" He remained hidden behind Boone.
"You guys havin' a party in here?" Sawyer appeared in the doorway.
Since when did showering become a public activity, Boone wondered? Sure Sawyer had seen them both naked enough on the island, but that was over ten years ago, and really was part of a completely different existence. He was starting to get a little peeved.
Shannon turned and started to answer the man. Boone cut her off, "Okay…the audience? Not working for me so much. You might want to consider leaving." He suggested.
Shannon looked a little startled, huffed and left. Sawyer turned to go then glanced back, looking at Boone's chest, narrowing his eyes a bit, "You still got some 'a them scars. I would 'a thought they'd be gone by now."
"Most are, it's just the worst ones that still show. I'm sure your scar is still there as well." He nodded at the guys left shoulder.
Sawyer's hand automatically slid up to the spot of the old gunshot wound. "Yeah, it ain't goin' nowhere anytime soon."
"Um, nice memories?" Andrew said sarcastically, "But I'd kind of like to finish in here."
Sawyer breathed a laugh and gave a lopsided grin, pushing himself off the doorjamb he pulled the door closed.
Boone and Andrew looked at each other, "Lock," they said simultaneously. Neither one would forget to do that to the bathroom door tomorrow.
Boone helped him dress, then fetched an oversized bandana he remembered seeing in the bottom of a drawer, making a sling out of it and knotting it behind the boy's neck. He assured him that it was only temporary, pretty soon, most of the pain would be gone and he'd not only not need the sling anymore, but he'd most likely adapt and figure a way to shower and dress himself, for the most part. He ruffled his hair and sent him on his way.
Seeing as how Shannon was in the shower when he went back to the bedroom to dress himself; he figured she'd bitch at him later about how he'd dismissed her from the bathroom earlier. He sighed and then headed downstairs to work.
Terry was already there, and had things laid out. He was as quick a study as Boone had expected, he was happy that he hadn't lost his touch when it came to judging people. He apologized for bailing the night before, and the two of them dove right in.
Andrew came to get him at lunchtime, sent on the errand by Shannon. Boone invited Terry to join them, waiting to see what he would say. He had a huge and completely obvious crush on Shannon, though he probably thought he'd hidden it okay. He looked a little wild about the eyes, hesitating briefly before accepting. Boone just hoped that the kid wouldn't embarrass himself too badly, he'd been an awkward teen at one point too, and remembered having more than just one crush where he'd ended up looking like an absolute moron at times.
As they headed down the hall, they could hear Shannon yelling at Sawyer. "You're absolutely ridiculous!" In the kitchen there was a Scrabble board out on the table, Andrew and Sawyer were playing.
"I ain't never heard that word before; I just want the boy to prove it's real." Sawyer reasoned.
"He's a kid, even if it's not, cut him some slack." Shannon responded.
Andrew had his hand in the air, mouth open, trying to answer, more than a little put out that Shannon would doubt his language skills, but the two of them continued to argue, ignoring the boy. Boone and Terry just stood there, watching.
"Stop," Andrew finally cut in. "Shannon, it's a real word, trust me, and James, of course I'll get the dictionary and prove it." Why did it seem as if he always ended up being the most adult?
Boone looked amused as Andrew brushed passed him, headed for the den to get the dictionary. He crossed the kitchen to start lunch, as conversation continued behind him.
Andrew came back and put the book on the table, awkwardly paging through it with one hand. "See 'yurt,' it's a Mongolian tent."
"Why the hell…" as Sawyer started, Boone tuned them out again, and focused on preparing the meal.
He put a salad and some freshly baked bread in the centre of the table and bowls of homemade chicken and pasta soup down in front of everyone.
"You kiddin' me?" Boone rolled his eyes and sighed, trust Sawyer to complain.
"What? Just what? What could possibly be wrong with this?" He cried in frustration.
"Soup? You want me to eat soup? That ain't a real meal. I need red meat boy. You been feedin' me nothin' but rabbit and dolphin food since I got here!"
Boone so wanted to tell him to just go then, and remind him that he'd invited himself, but he settled for pulling open the door of the fridge, hauling out a brown paper wrapped package and tossing it on the table in front on Sawyer.
The man unwrapped it, looking at Boone out of the corner of his eye, as a large, well marbled, strip loin steak was revealed. Shannon and Andrew looked at it like it was manna from heaven. He was reminded of that old cartoon, was it 'The Simpson's?' he thought, where the guy drooled at the sight of a donut.
"That's Sawyer's supper, we're having this," Boone informed the two of them, pulling a more cylindrical package out of the fridge. They recognized the shape of a fish instantly and frowned, looking disappointed they both slumped their shoulders. This guy so has to get out of here. Boone thought, not considering that it was partly his own fault for catering to Sawyer and buying the steak in the first place. He put both packages back in the fridge.
It was that night that he got the phone call he was expecting. He was right in the middle of getting supper ready when the landline rang. "Hello?"
"Hello, Boone, dear." His mother simpered.
"Hello mother," he was tired and not in the mood.
"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Yeah, like she cared, he thought.
"It's cool, I'm just getting dinner ready." He answered.
"Your wife not do that for you?" She asked, snidely.
"Hanging up now mother." He responded, in a pleasant, happy voice, fuck he was tired of the games.
"Boone, no!" She cut him off.
"Okay, then, what?" he asked flatly.
"Well, I just thought that she'd probably learned to cook by now, that's all." Sabrina lied.
"She's thirty years old, if she was going to learn how to cook; she would have by now, besides, as you fully well know, I like cooking." He responded
"Well, she's very lucky you agreed to marry her then, isn't she?" Typically she twisted things around.
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed.
"How's everyone?" She continued the social niceties.
He went on to explain about Andrew's broken wrist from the night before.
"Maybe he's too young to ride a bicycle?" Sabrina wondered.
"He's almost ten," Boone shot back in frustration.
"Is that young?" she sounded unsure.
He looked at the ceiling and wondered how she could be so out of it. "No, mother, typically ten year olds ride bikes."
"Well, just watch him, it seems like he's the only grandchild I'll ever have." She sounded put out, he didn't know why, she hated kids; no doubt it was just another opportunity at getting in a jibe.
"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." When was she going to get to the point?
"I have to go to Paris tomorrow, and I'll be gone for a week, so I can't come for Christmas." Sabrina informed him.
"Wow, that's just way too bad." He breathed a sigh of relief. No ice queen, busting his balls, yeah, like that really disappointed him. "What a total drag, 'cause Sawyer's here." The guy gravitated to money like white on rice; he loved being around Sabrina.
"Oh, what a shame, I'll miss James." She actually sounded a bit disappointed.
"I'll let him know that. You want to talk to Andrew?" He turned around; his son was sitting at the kitchen table with a book open in front of him, reading. His head came up at the mention of his name and he started to shake it, 'No.' he pleaded silently.
When his mother agreed, Boone silently handed him the phone, 'Sorry.' He apologized.
He pulled Sawyer's steak out of the fridge and started seasoning it, thinking to himself, 'First bacon, now beef, what next? Deep fried Mars Bars?' He suppressed a shudder at the thought.