Here's the second and last part to this story, although you should look for a PB&J-centric story coming up as a continuation of this plot, with appearances of Jack, Kate, Shannon, Sun, and others!


"Miss? I'm sorry but this is the end of the line. Was there somewhere you were trying to get to?"

The bus driver bent over Shannon and she glanced up at his pitying features.

"No, not really."

Shannon had been riding this bus for the last four hours, hoping to come up with a plan as to how she'd be able to support herself and her two children. She had no connections anymore, no savings, she wasn't even legally alive. Sabrina had filed for her death certificate a year after her disappearance. So far, no ideas as how to miraculously sprout wings and fly to Sydney, where most of the other plane crash survivors had ended up. And those were the only people who would even speak to her. Guess other people they thought her bad luck would rub off. There was only one couple who lived in Los Angeles, and she wasn't sure what their number was. It was either 263-3061 or 259-0539. One was Charlie and Claire's, the other was Hurley's and she really didn't want to get pulled into another drawn out conversation about cheese, which she wasn't even sure how got started. Point was, she hadn't picked up her address book in her stepmother's house and she wasn't about to back. All she had was what had been thrown into the diaper bag, which only included a half-empty lip-gloss and some fuzzy mints. So here she was, on a grimy bus stop in the middle of the city.

Taking her cell phone out of the diaper bag, Shannon took a chance and picked one of the two phone numbers, dialing slowly as if she were afraid the device would bite her. She gently placed the phone to her ear and waited impatiently as the other end ringed. She sighed heavily when a female voice picked up the other end.

"Oh, thank God it's you Claire!"

"Shannon?" Claire asked uncertainly.

"Of course it's me, you forgot my voice already?"

"No, not quite yet. What's going on? Why did you call?"

"Can't a friend just call and see how things are going?'

"Shannon…"

"Oh, all right, so I had an ulterior motive. I'm kind of stranded in a not so nice part of town." Shannon paused to glare at a pair of men ogling at her. She didn't blame them, she had always accepted that she was beautiful, but since she was off the island with her children, the looks took on another meaning.

"So, you're wondering if I can pick you up?"

"Well if you insist…" Shannon mocked defensively.

"Where are you exactly?"

"You're a life-saver, Claire!" she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her features.


"So are you going to tell me or am I going to have to ask?"

Shannon glanced away from the window and looked toward the voice that had stirred her from her thoughts. Claire raised her eyebrows questioningly, though her lips were still parted in a smile.

Shannon turned her gaze toward the passing scenery again. "Tell you about what?"

"About the call out of the blue for a rescue mission. Is everything alright, Shannon?"

Shannon pulled in her lips then let them out with a small puff of air, making a light popping sound.

"Everything is fine."

"Then what's going on with you?" Claire's expression turned to that of worry. "Did something happen with you're step-mom? Because when you talked about her on the island she sounded-"

"Claire!" Shannon interrupted. Claire glanced away from the road to look her passenger over. Shannon took the opportunity to nod toward the back seat, where the children slurped happily on ice cream. Aaron slouched in the seat directly behind the driver's side, devouring a mint chip cone down to the quick with green slop dribbling down his chin. Grace had been carefully taking her time eating her bubble-gum ice cream lick-by-lick, but since Claire had mentioned her grandmother, she had begun to squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"I'll tell you everything. Later." Her eyes said everything.

Claire bobbed her head up and down.

"Later," she agreed.

After a moment of silence, Shannon tried to make small talk.

"So how are you? How's Charlie doing? He may have annoyed me on the island, but now I kind of miss his stupid jokes, like after you swat a fly you miss the buzzing-" Claire gave her a look, "-sound?" she finished uncertainly. She giggled uncomfortably and cleared her throat. Shannon had always wondered why Claire had ended up with such a… dork. She had always thought Claire could do better, but then again she herself hadn't had much luck in relationships, so maybe falling in love for, well, love was better than for someone who could take care of her. A lot of good that philosophy had gotten her: two kids and no husband.

"He's good." Claire responded finally.

"I read in that magazine article that Driveshaft is doing well."

"Oh, yeah, did you see that? They did a whole month on us, like we're celebrities or something."

"Yeah, I saw it. A few years ago I would have loved the attention, but now…" she brushed the hair on Nathan's head away as he slept in the car seat that sat between them.

"Changes everything doesn't it?" Claire remarked pointedly.

"Yeah, it does" Shannon agreed softly, knowing exactly what she meant.


"Damn it!"

Aaron and Grace glanced up from their cereal at Shannon, who furiously crumpled the morning newspaper in a wrinkled ball and threw it to the side. Catching sight of their faces she softened her features and let her head hang limply.

"Sorry"

Grace slid off the chair and shuffled over to her.

"It's okay, Mommy, you'll find something soon." She ran her fingers through Shannon's blonde hair. Shannon turned her mopey eyes up toward her daughter, then scooped her up.

"You know, I'm supposed to be the one to mother you, not the other way around."

"I don't mind," Grace stated proudly in a squeaky voice.

"I'm supposing there were no listings in the paper today either?" Claire remarked knowingly as she emerged from her bedroom. Her kimono-like bathrobe was baggy in the sleeves and when her stretched her arms up in a yawn, they took the look of a gigantic bird of prey spreading its wings.

"Not unless you count 'Receptionist: Pleasant voice and size C cup preferable"

Claire chuckled. "Guess not then."

She filled up a teapot and set it on the stove.

"But don't worry too much. Something is bound to turn up eventually," she wrapped her fingers around Shannon's clenched hand, " and you're welcome to stay here as long as you want until you get settled."

"Thanks, that means a lot" Shannon smiled thankfully.

"Just as long as it's not too terribly long" Charlie piped up, appearing from the bedroom as well. He kissed Claire on the crown of her head. "Morning luv."

"Charlie," she said warningly, narrowing her eyes at him.

He shrunk away and held up his hands in defense.

"I'm just saying that you don't want to stay stuck with us for much longer," he squeezed Claire's shoulder lovingly, "I'm afraid to say that we're not much fun around here."

"Maybe you're not, old man", Claire giggled.

"Hey!" Charlie exclaimed, straightening up and taking on a look of offense, "I told you my age in confidence!"

Claire stifled a laugh. "The point is that there's no rush. It's just a matter of time before you find something."

She stood and plucked up the screaming teapot off the stove.

"I'm not so sure. I haven't worked since that summer job as a ballet instructor. The only work I've done since then was conning and I just can't bring myself to go back into that again. Plus Boone's dead so who would I gyp?"

Shannon's eyes were focused on Nathan in his baby seat so she didn't see the shocked look on both Charlie and Claire's faces. Their mouths gaped in speechlessness before they dismissed it and went back to the conversation.

"Well why don't you just go back to ballet? There's a dance school just up the road," Claire offered. She poured the boiling water into three teacups and began riffling around in the cupboard above the coffee maker.

"I'm not exactly as flexible as I used to be." Shannon's voice was sad and regretful. She slipped another spoonful of orangey-red glop into Nathan's mouth, scooping the larger percent of it that dripped down his chin and tried again to get it actually into his stomach.

Claire noticed, not for the first time, how much Shannon had changed since the crash. At first meeting her, Claire would have never pegged her as being a patient mother. There was times when the old Shannon showed through, but that was usually when she was protecting her children. Or a sales rack.

Claire sighed as her hand finally found the jar with the tea bags and she fished out three of those as well.

"Maybe you just need to get back into the hang of it," Claire sounded hopeful as she dipped each pocket of herbs in the scorching water.

Shannon sighed as well.

"Maybe"

Claire set the cup and saucer in front of Shannon, trying to coax her out of her glum.

"Thanks"

Shannon wiped Nathan's chin of the baby food, taking one sip of the tea on the place mat in front of her before draping a splattered cloth over her shoulder and gently putting him in the crook of her neck. She patted his back softly and glanced back up at Claire.

"I'm just worried, that's all. It's not like I'm the most qualified person for any job." She kissed Nathan's temple and tucked a strand of hair behind Grace's ear. "I'm a single twenty-four year old with two kids. I love my children, but that doesn't exactly bode well for me."

"Hey." Claire said softly, scooting a chair up next to Shannon's. "You'll never be alone. When we crashed on that island we all made forty-seven lifetime friends."

"Forty-six," Shannon corrected, "Ethan wasn't one of us and even if he were, I'm pretty sure he would have been disowned when he kidnapped you guys."

Claire forced a half smile. "The good old days."

Shannon laughed. "Yeah, some good old days."


Shannon glanced down at the waitress' uniform in her hand, something about the god-awful checkerboard-print burning into her skin. Her thumb ran over the nametag pinned to the front, swiping once over the engraved lettering. So maybe it would be so bad. She'd serve some specials platters, pour some coffee, get her ass smacked a few times… Shannon cringed at the thought. But instead she tightened her jaw and let the hand that gripped the apron fall to her side. She had to do this. She had a family to provide for now. She didn't think money exactly sprouted from trees, even if she'd never really been a huge arboricultural student, so this was the only way she could hold her tiny makeshift family afloat.

Someone knocked softly on her bedroom door.

"Come in!" she yelled, knowing it was Claire ready to give her a ride on her first day back to work. Yet when the blonde woman entered she looked unsure and kind of shaky.

"Shannon?" Claire asked gingerly, Shan glanced up from her bed, arching her eyebrows in a 'what now?' sort of way. "There's someone here to see you"

Shannon crinkled her nose and walked out the door with her, one step behind. When they rounded the corner, an elderly man sat in Charlie's usual place at the breakfast table, Charlie standing in the corner, a 'harrumph' look on his face. She didn't recognize the visitor.

"Who are you?"

"Well hello Miss. Rutherford, it has been quite difficult tracking you down." He sounded annoyed.

"I don't exactly have a steady home at the moment." Shannon realized after a moment that she shouldn't be the one doing the explaining in this situation, "Is there some reason you need to find me?"

"I suppose I should assume then that you weren't aware that the will was read a week ago."

Shannon gave him a confused look. "Whose will?"

"Mr. Carlisle, you're step-brother. I was his lawyer"

"Oh," she sounded dumbfounded and disappointed all at once, then she looked up suddenly, "Boone had a will?"

"Yes, my dear, he wanted to make sure that everything was in order in case of the unexpected."

Shannon let out a small laugh, "He was always the responsible one." Letting her slight smile fade she looked him directly in the eye. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Now it was the lawyer's turn to be confused.

"Well don't you see? He left everything to you."

Shannon plopped down into the nearest chair, her brain function too busy trying to comprehend that it couldn't be bothered with standing upright. Her mouth formed around the words, but no sound came out. Claire spoke them for her.

"What?"

He gave them all a patronizing look. "Mr. Carlisle stated quite clearly in his last will and testament that the entirely of his estate and funds, valued at approximately $700, 000 dollars, are to be passed on to his step-sister, that would be you, Miss. Shannon Rutherford, upon his death."

Shannon breathed in quickly, feeling an asthma attack coming on. Just as she was about to look to Claire for help, she felt the plastic inhaler slide into her hand. Shannon glanced down to find Grace's tiny fist pushing the device toward her. Shan gave her a thankful smile. She must have gotten the persuasion for saving her from her father.

"Now, if you're not too busy at the moment." Shannon let the waitress uniform fall to her side, "I have some papers for you to sign. Once you've crossed all the 'T's and dotted all the 'i's, you'll be all set."


"Mommy?"

Shannon didn't look away from the mirror at her daughter, who now sat on the bathroom sink, intently watching her apply make-up.

"Yeah babe?"

Grace knit her eyebrows, a very familiar gesture in that family, as she tried to find the right words.

"Am I different than Nathan?" Shannon paused mid brush and studied her daughter's reflection in the mirror. She carefully set down the blush applicator and pursed her lips.

"Why would you say something like that?" her voice was shaky, and she knew Grace noticed. The girl had always been very perceptive.

Grace stared downward, abashed, and swung her legs that dangled from over the counter. "Oh I don't know. Just…" she bit her lip, wondering whether to go further, "what Grandma said. About Daddy and how that made us different."

"Forget everything that bi-" she stopped herself, "-woman said. She had no clue what she was talking about."

"But I don't understand. Nathan doesn't look like me. Maybe Grandma was right…"

"Hey" she said sternly, raising Grace's chin with her forefinger. "You guys are NOT different. You are exactly the same. It's just that…" she searched for the right explanation to make her daughter understand. Then she got it. "You're not different, you're both my babies. You, Grace, are just a whiter shade of pale."


Remember to look for the follow-up story, "Disconnect the Dots" !