Title: Something More
Rating: PG for some mild swearing
Summary: "It seemed they had both been denying for some time now all the signs that pointed down the path to something more…and of course, the others noticed. And they asked questions. And the two of them always answered the same: 'We're just friends.'" sort of AU-ish, set sometime between 1x21 and 2x05
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost nor do I own the lyrics I have shamelessly stolen from Stephen Speaks (and which I have credited in the soundtrack below) to emphasise said story.
Soundtrack: Stephen Speaks – Complete; All These Things; Out Of My League; What'll She Look Like?
Authors Notes: My goodness I wrote this a long time ago. Probably about the time its set actually, between 1x21 and the advent of season two. I figured, I've had it lurking in my files for ages now, I'd probably better post it. More up to date stuff coming soon I promise!

It seemed they had both been denying for some time now all the signs that pointed down the path to something more. Lingering glances. The touch of fingertips on bare skin for a moment longer than was necessary. A chaste kiss meant for a flushed cheekbone straying dangerously close to the corner of the other's mouth…

Maybe it's her touch, the feel of her hands, when she puts her tiny fingers in mine…

And of course, the others noticed.

And they asked questions.

And the two of them always answered the same.

'We're just friends.'

Alone and in confidence with their closest allies, their tone would change however, under the delicately probing questions they were asked. These were their most trusted confidantes – they knew them well enough to know they wouldn't tell.

'Even if I did want it that way I wouldn't do it,' he confessed, his voice soft. 'This is the best friendship I've ever had and I don't want to go and fuck it up.'

'Don't you like her?'

'Of course I like her! What sort of a daft question is that? If I didn't like her I wouldn't spend so much time with her would I?'

'I meant like as in like. Not like.'

'Yeah, yeah I follow you.' He hesitates for a long moment before answering, slowly. 'I suppose it is becoming more than a friendship now of it's own accord – but I don't want it to go any further in that particular direction at the moment.'

'Why not?'

'I told you! Because I don't want to fuck this up like I've fucked up everything else in my life!'

And the feeling that I'm falling further in love makes me shiver, but in a good way…

'I couldn't possibly go through with anything like that.'

'Why not?'

'The last guy I was with got scared away by his responsibility to me, who's to say Charlie wouldn't do the same thing?'

'You've been hurt.'

It isn't a question but she answers anyway. 'Yes.'

'Well just because you've been hurt doesn't mean you should abandon all hope of finding love again. I think you'll find he's more than ready to shoulder this kind of responsibility.'

'Maybe if he wanted to but I don't see why…' she tries to be flippant but she pauses and her confidante realises that it obviously hurts her to say this. 'I mean, I doubt he's ever looked at me like that anyway. I mean, why would he?'

Her words could not have been plainer, what does he see in me? Why does he even care?

'Claire, you're a beautiful woman…'

Maybe it's her face, no makeup at all, as she tells me she's not beautiful…

'…And I know that Charlie can see it too – have you not seen the way he looks at you? He loves you as you are; whether as a friend or something more I don't know. But he certainly feels something for you or else he already would have abandoned you.'

The two of them never speak of these encounters but their own encounters begin to change slightly. The day when he reaches out to daringly cradle her waist she jerks at the sudden touch of his bare arm on her lower back but when he recoils, embarrassed by her reaction, she replaces his arm and smiles gently.

What'll it feel like when she opens her heart and finds that there just might be a small missing part?

'Why do you like me Charlie?' she asked him one day as they sat on the beach together, gazing at the water like they used to, her hands rested lightly on her now flat belly, warming the place where Aaron had once resided.

'Sorry?'

'Why were you drawn to me of all people after the plane crash?' she looked at him curiously as he put his chin in his hand to think. His face always scrunched up when he thought long and hard and this time was no exception.

'Well I helped you with your bag one day right after we crashed – that was when I first met you – and then there was the day you passed out and then I convinced you to move to the caves…'

'But why?'

Because I love her with all that I am…

He glanced up at her, looking thoughtful.

'I don't know.'

Claire shifted uncomfortably. 'Well there's got to be…'

'Maybe…' Charlie interrupted vaguely as he twirled the fingers on his left hand in front of his face. 'Maybe it was fate.'

'Fate?' she repeated incredulously. 'I don't…'

'Here,' he reached for his bag and pulled his Sharpie out – not quite as sharp as it had been before – and took her left hand, holding it steady as he wrote on her knuckles.

F-A-T-E.

When he had finished, she regarded her own fingers with some surprise before looking up at him. 'You did this once.'

'I did.'

'Why?'

'I don't really know actually,'

She looked away from him, shielding her eyes from the sun. 'You don't seem to know a lot at all today,' she said, trying not to sound accusing and failing. She wanted some answers dammit and she was having to wheedle them out of him which annoyed her.

'Don't you – believe in fate?' he asked tentatively.

'No,' she said resolutely, staring at the word on her hand with apparent disdain. 'I don't.'

'I thought you were into…?'

'Astrology. Yeah,' she sighed and leant back. 'But astrology is trying to understand how the positioning of stars and planets affect people, not fate and destiny and all of that.'

'Well what about that psychic you saw – that "Milking" guy or whatever…'

'Malkin,' she corrected him, smiling.

'Yeah him. He knew what was going to happen, the plane and everything.' She glanced back at him, not willing to comprehend what he was saying. 'In other words, he knew what your fate would be if you boarded that plane. Therefore, fate does exist, in some way shape or form because somehow, he saw it.'

She paused to consider this before plucking a handful of sand from the ground and letting it sift through her fingers. She wanted to change the subject and her next sentence had been playing in her mind for some time. She wondered how best to phrase it.

'People think we're together.' She blurted suddenly.

'Aren't we?'

She glanced at him sharply but when she saw the teasing expression on his face she relaxed slightly.

'I know what you meant love,' he paused for a moment, watching as she took another handful of sand. 'If you're worried about them talking about us then maybe we should stop spending so much time together…'

He held his breath, watching her, hoping against hope that she wouldn't agree. As much as he disliked the constant nudges to be with her from everyone else, he liked spending time with her and didn't want to stop spending time with her because of pressure from anyone else.

Because in you I am complete…

'Oh let them talk,' she said, letting out a great whooshing sigh and brushing the sand from her hands. 'We have nothing to hide after all. I mean, we're just friends aren't we?'

'Too right,' he grinned at her, trying to nod seriously and failing dismally.

Claire smiled back and glanced down at her hand once more where Charlie had penned "fate" onto her skin. She glanced back up at him as he squinted out at the glistening ocean and for a moment, wondered if he was right.

Maybe it was fate that had drawn them together.