Disclaimer: I claim nothing.

A/N: It just occured to me how often Jack remarks upon the weather in my fics. Hmm.

Sayid was in a mood. Word had spread like wildfire across the island to stay out of his way or risk certain and painful death. Already today he'd shouted at Walt, cursed at Jack, and thrown a screwdriver at Sawyer's head. And it was only eleven o'clock.

He was angry, he was bitter, and it was starting to affect him. He was supposed to be working on a new transceiver for the raft, but that was easier said than done. He couldn't focus, and it was time to admit the one thing he desperately didn't want to. He missed her. And then he was angry about that too.

This wasn't his fault. He stopped her from killing an innocent man, how could she be angry at him for that? But if there was one thing Sayid had learned about women over the years, it was that they could hate you for no reason at all, but you still had to decide how to fix it.

The wire he had been so carefully molding snapped in his hands, and he cursed again. This was crazy. He was just going to have to find her and make her see reason. After all it was a small island and she couldn't avoid him forever.

But she could try.

Shannon was currently leaning against the plane Locke and her brother had found, closing her eyes against the midday sun. It was the one place she knew he wouldn't come look for her. In fact, she was pretty sure no one would. The thick trees made it difficult to get a tan, but at least she'd be left alone.

She'd given up on crying. She'd done more than her share of it over the past few days, and it still hadn't helped. Now Shannon was settling for being angry at everyone and everything, including herself. Who would have thought Shannon Rutherford would come so close to committing murder 1?

Just him.

Shannon had seen the key around Jack's neck as he lay there and had taken it without a thought. She knew where he kept the gun case, knew no one would suspect her until it was too late. Of course, she hadn't anticipated him learning the key and the gun were missing. Sayid was the only one who could imagine her as anything other than a spoiled brat. It made Shannon sick to think that he now might think of her as a murderer. An unsuccessful murderer, but a murderer nonetheless.

She couldn't blame him for what he did. She could try to, but it would work. Even if John Locke was guilty (and Shannon was still convinced he was), Sayid didn't believe it and couldn't very well let her kill someone he thought was innocent.

This jungle was doing things to her. She'd give anything for a cappuccino and a manicure just so she could feel normal again.

But then again, maybe all the change wasn't bad. There were so many things that Shannon had never believed herself capable of until she came to the island. Even if the others hadn't noticed the subtle changes, Shannon had. She worried more about other people than before and helped out when she was asked to. Granted she grumbled the entire time she was doing it, but that wasn't the point. Change never came easy.

"Shannon? What are you doing out here?"

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief as she realized the person behind her was only Jack. "Oh, you know, just the usual useless nothing. I'm thinking of switching it up a bit with a nap later on."

"You might want to head back to the beach. It looks like we might have a storm."

"Alright, I'll just rush right back to the twenty foot waves. That sounds safe." She frowned as she examined Jack closer. "What did you do to your head?"

A small, jagged cut ran across his cheek, dangerously close to his eye. "That? That's a present from your good friend Sayid."

"Sayid?"

"Yeah. Of course this was after he nearly took Sawyer's head off with a screwdriver. Now I don't much care for the guy, but a screwdriver lodged in his brain seems a little harsh."

Shannon was confused. None of this fit. Sayid was calm, placid. Sure he'd tortured Sawyer that one time, but everyone slips up now and then. "Why-"

"I guess I shouldn't talk. One time I stabbed an intern with a syringe filled with saline solution."

"What?" The idea of Jack pulling a crazy man act like that was more unnerving than Sayid chucking various tools at everyone around.

Jack shrugged. "I probably shouldn't have been at work that day."

"Why'd you do it?"

"I don't really remember," Jack shifted the pack he was carrying from one shoulder to the other and glanced up at the sky. The storm clouds he predicted were approaching quickly. "I do know that it was the morning after my wife told me she was leaving and that she hated me."

Shannon's first thought was, Jack was married? Followed quickly by, "But I never said I hated him."

"I think you should talk to him."

"But I didn't-"

"It's gonna rain," he repeated. "Better get back if you don't want to get soaked." He disappeared into the jungle, leaving Shannon staring open mouthed after him. And here she was thinking Locke was the mystical one with all the answers.

Wind whipped across the sand, rocking the fragile shelters built by the survivors. Sayid was struggling to gather the masses of maps and equipment he'd acquired. Since his outbursts earlier in the day, no one else seemed very interested in helping him out.

The storm that was coming was going to be large, a test run for the upcoming monsoon season he assumed. Even as he hurried to get his own things under control, he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder and noticing that Shannon wasn't there. He hoped to God she was safely at the caves, but somehow he doubted it.

He was right to. At that particular moment, Shannon was racing through the jungle, already well past the caves and moving quickly towards the beach.. She couldn't have Sayid thinking she hated him. She wasn't sure what she felt towards him just yet, but it wasn't hate, and she didn't want to risk a survivor having a hammer driven through his leg because he thought she did.

Branches scratched at her face and pulled at her clothing as she ran faster. Running wasn't Shannon's forte, but just then she felt like she could run a marathon. Half a mile from the beach, lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the sky let loose a torrent of rain. "Ah, hell."

He paced back and forth across the small space under his shelter. No sign of Shannon along the beach, but the rain was coming down so hard he doubted if he'd be able to see her even if she was. Sayid had just made up his mind to go looking for her when he heard her voice, barely audible over the roar of the wind.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't hate you." Shannon's perfect blonde hair was soaking wet and plastered against her hair. Her clothes clung to her every curve, and she was shaking.

"What are you talking about?"

She raked her fingers through the stringy strands of hair, "Jack said maybe you thought I hated you and I don't really; I'm just confused. And I don't want you to stab someone with a syringe just because you thought I did hate you even if they deserved it, because it still isn't right. I just wanted you to know that." She paused and looked at him for a long moment before laughing. "I'm all wet."

Sayid said, "Come here," and she couldn't say no. Shannon let him take her in his strong arms even though she was soaked to the bone and ruining his clothes with the rain water. He didn't seem to mind it much. Sayid sat down atop a pile of clothes and pulled Shannon gently down beside him. He held her close and kissed her forehead while she claimed again that she didn't hate him. That she was confused and didn't know which way was up anymore.

Even as she spoke the words, Shannon could feel her confusion melting away to something else. She didn't say it out loud, but she thought maybe it might be love.

She sighed contentedly and watched the storm from the safety of Sayid's arms.