Chapter Four

For a moment, Sayid merely sat in stunned silence. Finally he asked, "Locke?"

Claire nodded.

"Claire, he's old enough to be…"

"What? My father?"

"Yes."

"You're…like…sixteen years older than Shannon was," she insisted.

Sayid admitted her point, but he did not precisely conceded it. "That is different," he said, though he could not precisely say how. Certainly the age difference between him and Shannon meant that, if she had lived, they would have had to work regularly to find common ground. In many ways Shannon had still been a child, especially in the way she had interacted with her brother and sometimes even with him, but he had believed that, in time, she would mature, and he had wanted very much to be the one who helped to shape her character. At any rate, the gulf of experience that lay between them had certainly not stopped him from loving her. So he decided to change the course of his objections. "Well, but, Locke is…I don't want to say he's crazy, but he's…"

"Thanks for the encouragement," Claire said dryly and glanced at the napping Aaron, who had begun to stir.

"I apologize," he said. "It is just…I am surprised. Why do you love him, if I may ask?"

"He has been so good to me and the baby. He built the crib. He helped me with many things. He's strong. And yes, he's a bit peculiar…but would you call a mystic crazy, Sayid?"

"Not crazy. But consumed by something, like Locke is consumed by this island. Not crazy, no, but not exactly boyfriend material." And then he shrugged his shoulders and said, "But if you love him, I wish for your sake he will return that love. You of all people, Claire, deserve happiness."

She came over to him and kissed his cheek gently. "You're sweet, Sayid. I wish I could be in love with you. It would be so much easier."

He laughed. "And I wish could be in love with you, too. It would be much easier."

They looked at each other affectionately for a moment—as a mother at her son, as a big brother at his little sister. "Well then," he concluded, and held his hand out for hers. "When you need a friend, you know where to find me." She gave her his hand and he kissed it quickly.

He then slid out of the tent and in a few feet encountered Charlie. This was inconvenient. Charlie glanced at the tent. "You've been awfully chummy with Claire," he said suspiciously. "This is the second time you've come out of her tent in the early morning."

"It is the middle of the afternoon, Charlie."

Charlie drew himself up and tried to look fearsome. It was all Sayid could do to keep from laughing. "You know what I mean."

"No," said Sayid, "No I do not. Why not tell me more directly?"

"Do you have a thing with Claire?"

"Yes, Charlie, I have a thing with Claire. It is called friendship."