Boone awoke, mind snapping fully from sleep to confused awareness in the space of a heartbeat. He was certain he was supposed to be somewhere, but wasn't sure where. The answer was quick in coming; the market, his memory screamed. It was his turn to stalk the grassy aisles that organized the outdoor stalls of the local organic farmer's market into a user-friendly grid. His turn to fussily select the freshest and most appealing ingredients for that day's recipes, he was certain of it. He was just about to struggle out of bed when he frowned. The ceiling didn't look right, but he couldn't immediately place exactly where he was. It took a few seconds for the reality of his surroundings to permeate his consciousness, when it did he relaxed back into the comfort of the embrace of both the bed and his wife.
He snuggled Shannon a little closer and rolled his head to the side to check the time. He saw with satisfaction that the illuminated numbers on the bedside clock/radio revealed that it was just five minutes later than he'd guessed, but it was still far too early to get up if he didn't have to pick over bunches of radishes. He tried to will himself back to sleep.
After an hour of fitful dozing, he decided he'd had enough, the self-enforced immobility simply serving to make him antsy in the extreme. He sorted out their tangled mess of limbs and extricated himself from the Twister-like jumble, without waking Shannon.
Boone had gotten a lot of practice at moving silently through their bedroom in the mornings, his usually starting several hours before hers. He managed to don his running clothes and get a bottle of water out of the fridge without prompting so much as a twitch from the mound under the covers. He held off snapping the plastic fastening of his bum pack closed until he was out in the hall however, certain the sharpness of the sound would disturb her sleep, and have her awaken even more irritable than the princess from that old children's book about there being a pea under the royal mattress.
In the foyer the most recent in a roster of receptionists greeted him, seeing his attire she guessed his intention and suggested that he try the south path. When he clearly looked lost, she pulled one of the supply of tri-fold pamphlets out of its Lucite stand and spread it open on the surface of the desk to reveal a map of the facility. After she pointed first on the map to the printed entrance to the path and then across the parking lot to the actual entrance, Boone finally got his bearings. When he asked why the recommendation, she responded that there were often deer sightings on that trail, especially this early in the morning.
Outside he stretched his leg muscles out carefully. Palms flat on the brick surface of the building he reached his legs back one after the other and pressed his heels to the sidewalk, feeling the slight burn as he stretched the tissue. He jogged slowly across the parking lot and up the trail, increasing his speed as he felt himself loosen up.
The only sound, other than that of Mother Nature, was his own muffled footstep thuds as he ran easily, advancing quickly along the well-worn dirt and leaf strewn path as it wound through alternating patches of forests and clearings. When he reached a small meadow off to his left, the promised deer were revealed.
There were six of them, of various sizes, ages and sexes, drinking from a meandering stream on the far side of the small grassy field that was sprinkled liberally with a variety of wildflowers swaying their colourful heads in the gentle breeze. He slowed, but didn't stop, not wanting to alarm them. One of the largest of the adults majestically raised its head and regarded him with interest.
Boone found himself automatically radiating calming goodwill without even meaning to, the sight bringing a grin to his face that stretched from ear to ear. He didn't necessarily intend to communicate telepathically with the creatures, he honestly didn't know if it was even possible, but whatever force was in play seemed to work, the buck lowered his head to the water again, unconcerned. Boone ran on, the warm fuzziness of the encounter a stellar start to his day.
He pulled the water bottle from the zipper compartment of the bum pack frequently, squirting the essential liquid into his mouth. If there was one thing he'd learned from the island, and from Jack, it was the necessity of an adequate water supply. By the time he reached the egress of the path, at another point adjacent to the parking lot, an hour after his start, there was less than a quarter of a bottle left.
He bent well forward from the waist and poured the rest of the contents over his head and neck, shaking it off like a dog when he stood, careful that he was far enough away from the cars that none of the liquid, now salt laced from his sweat, could spatter on the vehicles.
Boone opened the door of their room cautiously, not certain if Shannon was up yet, not going to the trouble of reading her first. She was standing naked, by his side of the bed, the slip of paper he'd left on his pillow for her in her hand. She glanced over at the sound of the door opening and smiled. Boone glanced around the corridor to be sure there was no one there, they may have been okay with casual nudity, but he sure as hell didn't want another guest to get an eyeful of his unclothed princess, then pushed the door open enough that he could slip inside.
"If this is a depiction of your self image, then we need to get you some breakfast pronto." Shannon laughed indicating his note. He'd drawn a stick figure of a running man in a moment of playfulness instead of leaving a more mundane message.
"Maybe I'll just have you for breakfast." He pulled her into a hug, clutching her evilly against his sweat soaked smelly body.
"Eww, eww, eww," she swatted at him with limp wrists pretending to be a helpless female. They both knew she was anything but.
Both laughing they broke apart after sharing a passionate kiss.
"So how was your run?" Shannon asked heading to the bathroom so they could shower.
"I saw a herd of deer." He responded happily.
"Mmmm venison," She made her answer sound like Homer Simpson's response to doughnuts. She even managed to add gurgling drooling noises.
In retaliation at her suggestion that she'd eat Bambi, Boone pitched his sweaty t-shirt at her, catching her on the side of her head; then he was chasing her into the bathroom the pair of them giggling like idiots.
As much creatures of habit as any humans, they sat at the same table as the night before, pleased when the waiter from dinner proved to be their server again. He set their cups of tea and coffee in front of them, without them even requesting them, and inquired after their night. He then, earnestly and surprisingly without a trace of cockiness, informed Boone that ten fresh caught local perch had unexpectedly come in that morning, and he'd set one aside for Boone's breakfast. The night before Shannon had, with a roll of her eyes, told the guy that her husband would eat fish three times a day if he could. He'd taken her at her word, and had reserved one of the prized catch for the male side of the engaging couple he'd had the pleasure of serving.
Boone was wondering if there was any way he could steal the young man away from the resort for their own business. Professional waiters, who honestly loved their work and strove to be the best at it, were very rare indeed he knew, and while they didn't yet have a requirement for a full time waiter, he was sure he could fill the guys' time.
Once again at the end of the meal a substantial tip was added to the charge when Shannon signed the bill.
Schedules clutched in their hands, they approached the spa area of the facility, Boone nervous, Shannon anticipatory. They were split up and a co-ordinator assigned to each.
There was a sign on the wall in the change room stating that wearing underwear was acceptable but unadvised in order to appreciate the full spa experience. Shannon read it as she shrugged out of her clothes stripping naked before pulling on one of the plush white terry robes, she knew Boone would be doing the same; he was as comfortable with being nude as she was. The thought of another woman seeing him naked didn't phase her one bit; there'd been enough of that during their year on the island, and besides, the people in the spa facility were professionals, there was nothing sexual about it.
She slipped over his mind cautiously, not wanting him to sense her intrusion, wondering if he was concerned about someone seeing her naked, but found no trace of any even marginal alarm, she wasn't sure if she should be pissed or reassured about that.
Shannon was a model spa customer; she gave herself over completely to the whole experience, chatting easily with the cute guy who administered her Organic Babassu Sugar Glow. While he exfoliated and stimulated her skin, she learned almost all there was to know about Lance without actually giving much away about herself at all. He found her ease with removing her robe when they moved on to the Organic Babassu Body Wrap a welcome pleasure, and he swore he could hear her purr as he progressed to the scalp massage.
Boone on the other hand was anything but a model spa customer. He'd never been comfortable with being the centre of attention, and definitely didn't believe that he deserved it for a minute. He steeled himself for the ordeal and obediently headed down the hall as directed.
He was tense and wary as he received his manicure, and almost whimpered at the pedicure. Try as she might Shari, the manicurist, couldn't coax him into conversation or get him to relax much at all; she caught him actually grimacing a few times. He cursed Shannon privately in his head the whole time, wondering how he could have thought the night before that this was a good idea.
When his co-ordinator Rachael came to take his lunch order, Shari shared a private look with the woman before exiting, she sure hoped whoever was assigned to administer his next treatment had better luck than she did at convincing him that this wasn't some horrible punishment.
Rachel quickly reshuffled his schedule in her head, the staff had all become adept at reading both their customers and each other, so Shari's look hadn't gone unnoticed by her. Boone breathed a sigh of relief at the information that he was being given an unexpected one hour reprieve, then examined his too perfect nails, all twenty of them he thought in dismay.
Returning briefly to their room, he retrieved his PMD and latest book, his hesitant footsteps faltering as he headed back once again to the proverbial scene of the crime. He settled back into the full body contour chair that was supposed to be relaxing but now reminded him of nothing more than the dentist chairs in which he suffered in agony when getting fillings as a child, and attempted to immerse himself in the distractions of music and literature.
It proved to be the Men's Marine Relaxation Facial that was Boones' undoing, but not in a way that he imagined. His head rolled back limply as Chelsea's fingers worked their magic, massaging his cheeks, chin, and forehead; he was barely conscious when she applied the masque. After an hour she attempted to wake him numerous times, but was unsuccessful.
Shannon was getting her fingernails painted an almost adulterous shade of bright red, her facial masque already applied, when Rachel hesitantly entered the private room Shannon had been assigned. Rachel explained that Boone had fallen asleep, and nothing they'd tried had successfully awoken him. She sheepishly asked if Shannon possibly give them a hand.
She rolled her eyes at Boones' unwitting and unwelcome intrusion, then followed after Rachael, assuring the woman that she wasn't annoyed with her; she knew he could sleep like the dead at times.
Shannon poked at his shoulder, "Boone?" but got nothing. 'Boone?' she tried again.
He opened his eyes, their grey colour immediately taking on the astonishing blue hue of the goop that had been applied to his face. Shannon gasped in surprise, her eyes wide at the effect. She assumed that the proximity of the vividly coloured paste to his irises was what intensified the change.
On Boone's end, he awoke to the terrifying sight of some alien creature leaning over him; its lumpy green tinged faced and white conical head horrifying. He scrambled his heels frantically on the lower half of the chair, keening in terror the whole time, as he tried to get away.
Shannon snapped out of it first. "For fuck sakes, you asshole it's me." She snatched the tower of towel off her head, her blonde hair tumbling to her shoulders.
"Oh Christ, Shan! Shit!" Boone's frantic hyperventilating slowed.
"Fuck, you're a moron." She was still staring at the startling blue of his eyes, however. "You see this?" she asked Chelsea glancing at the girl sharply.
Chelsea leaned over and then did a double take, "Whoa! His eyes were closed when I finished. That's quite the sight though."
"What? What?" Boone looked a little frantic.
"Oh calm the fuck down, asswipe." Shannon answered in annoyance.
He continued to appear perturbed however.
Heaving a sigh she grabbed a mirror and thrust it in front of his face. He jumped back at the apparition with which he was greeted. "Gah!"
Then he realized what they were looking at, his eyes were the azure colour of the Mediterranean Sea.
"Hmm," he smiled a bit cockily, somehow proud of himself, though he'd had nothing to do with it. It was simply his chameleon eyes picking up on the colour of the hydrating substance that had been spread on his skin.
Shannon, however, was unimpressed at just how impressed he seemed with himself. She dropped the mirror on his chest.
"Make sure he eats all of that," she pointed at his lunch and flounced out of the room.
In response he shot her retreating back a look of pure venom.