Chapter 7 – Reverse Deja Vu

Boone and Shannon were pretending to be asleep and they both knew it. It was well past morning; light peaked in through the closed curtain. The comforter was stuffed at the foot of the bed and the sheets clung to their intertwined legs. His arms were carefully wrapped around the hem of her t-shirt, where she was facing him, her face buried into the crook of his neck. Her hands grazed against his knees. They both stirred occasionally, but they didn't want to wake up and face daily life – shallow arguments and childish fits… but especially, they didn't want to face their obvious feelings towards each other. And Shannon didn't want to face the feeling of guilt that was gnawing at her stomach. She hated the feeling… but would she do it again? Probably.

He placed his fingers at the nape of her neck and slowly moved them down each bone in her spine until he rested his hands at her lower back. She shivered, and he hugged her closer to his chest. "Shan," he whispered.

"Shhhhh…" She told him. She wanted to stay like this forever, but she didn't dare say it out loud.

"Baby, we have to catch the plane today," he murmured. God, she loved it when he called her "baby." No…

"Mmmmm mmm," she said.

"Does that mean 'yes' or 'no'?" He opened his eyes. It was over. He slowly let go of her arms and rolled out of bed.

"No…." she moaned, "Come back to bed."

"I can't – Shan, you've got to get up."

"What time's it?"

"Shit – it's ten thirty!"

"Why 'shit'?" She was still curled up, with her eyes closed, on the bed.

"Because we have to leave here at eleven!"

"Huh?"

"Shannon, get up!"

"Noooooo…."

"Yesssss!" He imitated her.

"Why didn't you get a late one so we can sleep on the plane?" She opened her eyes. Great. Reality.

"Because I –" he faltered.

"Why not?"

"Uhhhh…"

"Boone!"

"When we get back to LA, it'll be like lunchtime tomorrow and –"

"Yes?" she said emphatically.

"I sort of told my mom we'd have lunch with her." She shot out of bed.

"What?" she whispered furiously.

"I – "

"I heard what you said, assface! I am NOT having lunch with that disgusting bitch! How dare YOU?" she said with a hitch in her voice.

"I thought it would be good if we made up with her."

"We? Don't you mean 'I'? You're still talking to her! I mean, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"I'm not on anyone's side!"

"Sure, Boone. You only talk to her because if you're a nice little mommy's boy she'll give you a job at her stupid – "

"Look, princess, I love you both – you're my family and I want to be able to talk to you without my mom getting pissed and the other way around! So try to control yourself, Shannon! Don't SLAP her again!" He slammed the door and Shannon could hear the shower running.

She pushed open the door. Thank god he was already in there. "I am so glad we didn't FUCK last night!"

"Yeah, we did." He sighed.

"No! Or maybe it's your wishful thinking, or some perverted dream you –"

"We didn't actually fuck, but we –"

"You didn't stick your –"

"Shut up!"

"So how much did you have to pay Sabrina to get her to have lunch with me?"

"I didn't pay her, unlike you, I –"

"Oh stop acting like you're fuckin' God! And hurry up, if I don't get a shower, I'll kill you!" 'Love you' said a voice in her head sardonically. "Shut the fuck up!"

"I didn't say anything, Shannon! Now can't I take a shower in peace?"

Two hours later, Shannon sat at the gate, flipping through Cosmopolitan, her eyes shooting daggers at Boone. He glared right back. They were lucky they were still alive. Shannon was on caffeine high and Boone hadn't slept at all the previous night. These two things did not mix. If Shannon had her way, she would tear him up into pieces, he pissed her off so damn much. She was mentally doing this, but then, to her embarrassment, found herself mentally undressing him. Damn you, she cursed herself.

"Shannon?"

"Yeah, what?" she asked, annoyed. He looked at her, a little stung. God, he was hot.

"Um... I'm sorry... I should have asked you about..."

"No, you shouldn't have." He looked relieved. "You knew I'd say no, so you set it up behind my back." His expression changed again. Jesus, Boone was just like a puppet. His emotions changed instantly, just from her words and her tone. It was kind of amusing.

"First and Business class is boarding for flight 1516 to Los Angeles," said the smooth voice of a flight attendant over the PA.

"That's us," said Boone, standing up and taking her bag.

"I can hear," she tried again.

"Take your own fucking bag," he sighed. Damnit, it didn't work that time! They stood in line behind an older, grandmotherly, lady. Shannon realized that her children would never have a grandmother to knit for them and bake cookies with them.

"I don't want to take my bag, Boone."

"Well, you're going to."

"Why?"

"Because you're a bitch." He said absently. The old lady ahead of them looked back at them with a disapproving look on her face.

"Thanks, sweetheart." She said sarcastically.

"Just give it a rest," he sighed. They were silent as they boarded the plane in irritated silence. She rolled her carry-on bag over his toes by accident, and he said, "Jesus, Shannon!" For some reason, this hurt Shannon's feelings, even though she didn't generally care when Boone got pissed off at her.

"I didn't mean to," she answered stubbornly. He didn't respond. She brushed up against him. "I didn't!"

"Okay, I'm sorry." When her words didn't do the trick, her touch would. God, he was predictable. She located seat 4D and 4E and sat by the window.

"Yes, thank you, Shannon, I would like the window seat." He said.

"Fuck you."

"Love you too, baby," he answered.

"Funny, you said the same thing last night." He looked uncomfortable, and then sat down. A little girl looked up at them, their mother glaring at Shannon contemptuously. "You know, when we were - " He kicked her hard in the shins. Then the plane started moving.

If there was one thing that Shannon and Boone had in common, it was fear of flying. They were both so frightened of heights, and the air, and the claustrophobic environment. They instinctively grabbed hands as the plane increased speed. His sweaty hand was clutching onto hers, and she squinted her eyes closed. "Boonelet'sstopfighting," she said in one breath. "Incasewedie".

"Okay, just breathe."

"I'm breathing."

"Oh god..." he sighed. The plane was going so fast on the runway, her whole body was tense.

"It's coming, it's coming!" she muttered, clinging onto him for dear life.

"We're going to die, we're gonna die!" Then the plane lifted off. She sighed in relief. But then the plane was going up, up, up, higher into the air.

"We aren't going to die!" he exclaimed. She smiled weakly, and laughed.

"We're insane," she said.

"Hey, don't get me into this," he said good-naturedly. She looked around and noticed that the old woman, the lady, and her daughter were staring at them in confusion.

"We have... um, flying issues," she supplied. They still looked rather alienated.

"How much do you think they heard?" he whispered.

"All of it, sonny!" said the old woman. Shannon suppressed the urge to crack up laughing. She smiled at the lady, and looked back at Boone, who was looking down and blushing. About ten minutes later, Boone leaned over and whispered to Shannon, his breath on her ear, "You can let go of my hand now."

The next day, Shannon and Boone tentatively walked into the restaurant, where Sabrina was waiting impatiently in a Chanel suit at an outdoor table. "Hi, mom," said Boone, kissing her on the cheek. Shannon sat down next to him. She was actually quite a bit frightened of Sabrina, though she didn't like to admit it. Her hands shook a little as she took a sip of her water.

"How was the flight?" asked Sabrina, still ignoring Shannon.

"Um... not bad..." said Boone, nudging Shannon.

"What?" asked Shannon, an edge in her voice.

"Never mind."

"So what were you doing in Paris, again?" Sabrina asked. She totally knew what he had been doing, playing dumb, that bitch.

"Um," said Boone, "I was getting Shannon because her boyfriend was... abusive." She nodded, wondering when Jean was going to send the money.

"That's too bad," said Sabrina stiffly.

"Should we order drinks?" asked Boone.

"I suppose. Waiter!" She snapped her fingers in an affected way. Shannon couldn't notice hints of a smirk appear on Boone's face.

"I'm going to get the white wine... that one," said Sabrina, pointing to the most expensive one on the menu. "Maybe Shannon can pronounce it for me?"

"Um... it's pronounced Deverciaux..." she said.

"So, are you fluent in French, now?"

"No."

"Oh," said Sabrina.

"I'll just have water," said Boone to the waiter.

"Me, too." said Shannon.

"So, did Boone tell you?" started Sabrina, "He's going to do an internship at my company!"

"Cool," said Shannon, trying to appear interested.

"Yeah," said Boone, absently playing with his fork.

"Don't do that!" said Sabrina.

"Sorry, mom."

"Forgotten! So, I've been remodeling the house, it's so tragic, being alone after David's unfortunate..."

"Yeah..." said Boone.

"Um -" started Shannon, her first voluntary words that afternoon, "Sabrina?"

"Yes?" she answered pointedly.

"I just... I just wanted to say that I like your sweater," she smiled questioningly.

"Thank you," said Sabrina genuinely. Boone patted her knee under the table. She tried not to shiver.

"I did get some pretty cute clothes in France, though. You'd like some of the things there," Shannon said. Why the fuck was she being so nice?

"Thanks, Shannon. That's sweet." Shannon had never heard her name and the word 'sweet' used in the same context before.

Eventually, after much uncomfortable conversation, they ate their various orders in silence - Boone got chicken, Sabrina got, what else, caviar, and Shannon got a salad and ate a quarter of it. Finally, it was about time to leave, after they had paid the bill, and Boone looked at Sabrina pointedly, trying to be subtle but failing.

"Oh - oh!" Said Sabrina, catching on. "Um, Shannon? I just thought, well, it was very nice of you to come eat with me, especially after what..." She looked at Boone, who was urging her to go on. Shannon rolled her eyes at him. "I'm just glad we're getting along now."

"Uh huh," said Shannon, looking at Boone's very unsmooth hand gestures. It really made her want to hug him. Maybe she would be able to, because she had survived, oddly enough, and they would be in the car in a few minutes.

"Well," said Boone, "Shannon and I are tired, so I'll take her home, and I guess I'll meet you back later?"

"That sounds... that sounds fine."

"Good!" Said Boone, relieved. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He whispered as they left.

"It was horrible, I totally hate you for making me go!" she whined.

"Uh huh..." said Boone, "Sure."

"You totally owe me!" Shannon said, "When we get in the car, you owe me a back massage!"

"When we get home," he compromised.

"Yeah."

As Shannon and Boone arrived in the driveway, Shannon decided to check the mail. There, labeled "Rush" was a small package. It was the check.