Chapter 3

Most of the night passed by without any problems or embarrassing situations, both Boone and Claire was happy to notice that they had grown out of the "stranger phase" and that they were becoming friends. They both realised that when you are all alone with another person for a couple of hours you form a special bond. A bond that could usually take several months to establish during normal circumstances.

About 7 or 8 o'clock in the morning they finally fell into a nightmare less sleep on the sofa, Claire a little bit earlier than Boone. They both woke up simultaneously by a knock on the door.

Boone sighed, 4 hours of sleep wasn't nearly enough for him.

Then he looked down and saw Claire lying in his lap, with her eyes closed but clearly awake. Boone smiled for himself, happy to notice that he hadn't been dreaming that Claire had come to him.

"Hey," Boone said gently.

"Good morning." Claire got out of his lap, to his disappointment. Not knowing what to say more they smiled at each other. Her smile soon grew into laughter.

"What?" Boone asked suspiciously.

"Your hair," Claire still laughed, her cheeks glowing out of joy. Boone ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a warmth creeping up his cheeks. Then he changed his mind and ruffled his hair as much as possible, making a funny face.

"Very funny," she said, putting his hair back in place, stroking it gently. She didn't realise what she had done until it was too late.

"Perhaps you should open the door?" she said embarrassed, trying to get some space between them. Boone got up from the sofa and walked towards the door, confused by her behaviour.

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"Here he is: Boone Carlyle. Survivor of flight 815" Boone was taken by surprise. On his floor there were several reporters and paparazzo's – all screaming his name, trying to get him to comment on their question or to get a juicy picture.

"Did you know that Kate Austen is in prison?"

"Is it true that you found a hatch in the jungle?" another reporter asked.

"Is Claire Littleton your girlfriend?"

No other question had been that shocking. He didn't understand. No one besides him and Claire knew that she was living with him, right?

"Not that I know of," he finally stammered out. Boone gave the reporters a lame reason for closing the door, and with thousand questions running through his head, he went back into the living room. She wasn't there.

"Claire!" he shouted, trying to hide the betrayal he felt. He couldn't think of any reason why the reporters have gotten that idea other than that she had something to do with it!

Claire came out from the bathroom; she only needed to take one look at him to see that something was wrong. The kindness that was usually showing in his eyes was replaced by coldness. What could have caused this change in him? She stood right in front of him, waiting for him to tell her what was wrong but he didn't.

He was afraid that his voice would betray him, showing how hurt he was.

"Okay. I surrender," Claire said, raising her hands up in the air as a gesture of what she had just said. She smiled, in hope that his bad mood would go away.

"Do you think that this is funny?" now he sounded really angry.

"What? I don't even know why you are acting this way!" her smile was long gone. He crossed his arms.

"You have changed your mood in a couple of minutes, like you were Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde" now she was growing angry herself. When he didn't answer, Claire continued:

"You at least owe me an explanation why" she said, staring at him.

"I owe you an explanation?" he asked bitterly. "How ironic isn't that" Boone walked around in the room, he didn't want to face her. Her sad face made him feel guilty for coming on so strong.

"Is it because of the money?" he faked a laugh.

"You wanted the publicity and figured out that I was the best option?" his voice broke but he forced himself to continue. He needed a reason.

"I thought that we were friends" he said, now sounding hurt and not angry.

"We are," Claire said, trying to move closer to him but he backed away.

Boone shocked his head. "No we're not and we never were," he stammered.

He walked towards his coat. "You used me" he said with a dangerous edge. He took out a couple of dollar bills from his wallet and moved towards her.

"You want money?" he said, sounding calmer than he should. Claire looked away, afraid of how he was acting.

"Here you go!" he throwed the bunch of money at her and they fell to the floor like leafs in the fall.

"I don't want your money, Boone" Claire turned around, her back facing him. She looked through the window, it was raining. If she wasn't hurt and offended by his harsh words she would probably had laughed because it so rarely rained in Los Angeles, it was like the weather was a mirroring her state of mind.

"I don't even know what you are talking about," her voice was low.

"I haven't used you" a tear fell down her cheek but she quickly wiped it away, thankful that he couldn't see her face.

Boone didn't look at her when she turned around to face him.

"I wish that I could believe that," he mumbled, now looking at her as he was struggling to see if she was telling the truth.

"If you can't" she paused "then maybe I should move"

Inside her heart was breaking.

"Maybe you should"

Claire looked at him, he wasn't angry anymore and when she looked into his eyes she could tell that he was sorry. Claire didn't know why he had said all those things or whom who had put them in his head in the first place. But all she needed to know was that he believed that she was using him for his money, and the fact that he thought that she could to that to him was heartbreaking.

They had never been anything other than friends but she had somehow wished for something more.

She took her bags and walked slowly towards the door, without looking at him. She waited for him to say something but he didn't.

He stood like frozen, not looking as she moved further and further away from him. Suddenly he heard a thud.

Boone looked closely at her, noticing that she was holding one hand over her stomach and the other one in a tight fist, her bags where dropped on the floor.

"Boone," Claire said, her voice sounding tortured.

Instantly Boone knew what was happening, she was having a contraction. He didn't waste a second and was quickly by her side.

"Claire," he pronounced her name with affection, not letting their previous fight stop him from protecting her.

"I want you to lie down," he took her hand and led her towards his bedroom. She was breathing heavily and her eyes were wide open. He helped her to lie down and put a blanket over her.

"Just try to breathe calmly" he said, glancing at his watch to time the contractions.

"How far gone are you?" Why didn't he know that? He looked at her, trying to get her attention through the fear.

"Why does that even matter? I'm having the bloody baby right now!" she said annoyed, but still afraid.

"Claire" he said seriously "I need to know"

"3 weeks, okay"

"Okay" Boone stroked her hair "Then I'm sure that this is just a false labour" he said, relieved.

"Just calm down and I will get you a glass of water" he went into a kitchen.

"Drink this"

Claire who trusted him that the pain would soon be over, drank the glass of water until its very last drop. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, waiting to see if the pain would subside and if they needed to call for an ambulance. Boone held her hand, stroking it gently.

"They've stopped" Claire finally announced, her whole essence seemed finally at peace.

Boone looked at her, intently, trying to capture the moment so that he would always remember her blonde curls and baby blue eyes. He was surprised how beautiful she looked when she was at peace, and yet somehow she had a vulnerability to her which made her even more attractive in his eyes.

He never wanted her to leave his life but he wasn't sure if she was going to stay with him after his rage. True, he had felt betrayed and some part of him still did but there was no way that he would risk her safety for his pride. She had no one else to turn to, she had said so herself and her baby could be coming pretty soon. The next time she was having contractions it might as well be real ones.

"I'm sorry Claire", he said with a low voice, looking into her eyes so that she could see that he meant it.

"I know," she didn't need to say more; their eyes did all the talking. Neither of them would go anywhere.