Chapter Nine

Claire and Sayid had a designated spot where they usually paused on their walks to sit and enjoy one another's company. It was the same secluded stretch of shoreline where they had shared their first kiss. Tonight, Sayid had scouted ahead of Claire to set the scene before backtracking to pick her up at her hut. He delighted in the look of surprise that rose to her eyes when she saw the blanket stretched forth, held fast to the sand by four, stone-weighted bowls he had fashioned from coconut halves and filled with flowers.

"They're so beautiful," Claire said of the flowers, "and what a coincidence—my favorite color."

Sayid smiled slightly. "It is not a coincidence, I assure you."

"But how did you know?"

"You mentioned it yesterday, when you were trying to make that—what do you call it?"

"Tinsel. And you remembered."

When Claire smiled, as she was doing now, Sayid found her enchanting. He experienced a sudden desire to feel the warmth and softness of her body, but she was still examining the flowers, and he did not wish to interrupt her. When she turned away from the coconut vase and took his hand, he embraced her, and soon enough they were sitting together on the blanket and enjoying the stolen kisses that the distance from young, prying eyes afforded them.

Thus far, kisses were all Sayid had attempted to steal, but tonight he let his hand rest lightly on her waist, just below her breast. Gradually, he slid it upward, so that it hovered just within reach. Now, this was the time when any other woman would have shifted either away from or directly into his hand, depending on her mood. Claire, to his consternation, did neither. She just kept kissing him.

He was beginning to feel like a driver who has pulled up to a busy intersection only to find that the traffic signal has died. There were really only two choices. He could wait patiently for the traffic to die down, which might be a painfully long time, or he could take the first available opportunity, slam down the accelerator, and hope for the best. With some reluctance, he chose the first option, and he lowered his hand again to her waist.

Eventually, she drew away from his lips and rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling close against his neck. "When did you decide you were interested in me?" she asked.

"At the Halloween party."

She raised her head to look at him. "Why?"

"Aaron made that suggestion…"

Claire giggled. "And that inspired you to think about me."

"Not so much as what Sawyer said afterward."

"Sawyer?" asked Claire, pulling away to glance at him in disbelief. "Don't tell me I'm indebted to Sawyer for any amount of matchmaking. What did he say?"

"He pointed out that you had only said it would not be appropriate right now."

The starlight above and the torchlight beside them illuminated Claire's fair cheeks as they flushed a reddish-pink. She sat up straight. "You think I was implying that I wanted--"

"No, no," he hastened. "I knew it was just an unfortunate phrasing. It did, however, draw my attention to you, and it made me consider the possibility that perhaps, eventually…" Instead of completing the thought, he brought his lips to hers again, gently, and when she responded readily, he deepened the kiss.

He left her lips only to explore the length of her neck, and at its base he nibbled lightly. Her light gasp quickened his pulse. He took pleasure in discovering her favorite spots to be kissed; it brought him a sense of satisfaction mingled with excitement. He continued his experiment, backtracking up her neck to her earlobe, which only caused her to giggle tickilishly. He returned to that particular part of her neck, and when she hummed and drew her body closer, he decided to take the gamble. He began to caress her breast through the thin fabric of her shirt, and he could feel her body responding. Her satisfied murmur encouraged him, and with growing eagerness he ventured his hand beneath her shirt.

He had just eased the material past her rib cage when she pulled away slightly. "Not yet," she said.

The signal was back on. He slid his hand down her side slowly, warming the smooth flesh with his departing touch, and slipped it out from under her shirt. "Sorry," he muttered. "I was not sure if, as with that first kiss, you were awaiting me to…"

"Listen, Sayid, I know it's been a long time for both of us, even longer for me--"

"Longer for you?" Sayid's confused eyes searched hers. "Shannon died well before Charlie."

Claire examined the blanket. "Yeah, but Charlie and I, we never actually…you know."

"What?" Sayid was unable to control his surprise. "You were together for…for…How could you possibly deny him that long?" He cringed internally. He hadn't thought about how his words might sound before he had spoken them. They had simply…rolled out.

"Look," demanded Claire, and her angry tone startled him. He knew she could sometimes be transformed, almost shy one minute, and painfully insistent the next. He had seen her yell at and even slap Charlie, but it seemed she had always only done so with good cause. Sayid had never expected to provoke the defensive side of Claire. "You don't know anything about my relationship with Charlie, okay? You don't know what it was like to… you just don't know!"

"I am sorry, Claire, for my hasty judgment. If you choose, please explain."

She seemed to him irritated and anxious and guilty all at once. "Well, it's difficult to…look, I really cared for Charlie. I really did. And he could be so sweet to me, and he watched out for me, and he really loved Aaron. And I wanted to…I wanted to, but he could be weird, too, you know."

Sayid did not reply with the obvious "yes." He merely waited for her to continue.

"I never felt quite sure, fully sure, whether he was using or not. And I believed he wasn't, but he could be so fickle…and I just wanted to make sure I always had the option of walking away if I needed to. I had to have that option because of Aaron, you understand?"

"I understand your desire to shelter your child from any instability, but then why did you sleep in the same tent as Charlie, kiss him, and--"

"Because I wanted to be with him. But I was afraid if I gave him that one thing, I'd be giving him that one last bit of my heart I was holding back. And I had to hold that bit back because if I didn't, then I might not be able to walk away if the time came. I'm not very strong, Sayid."

Sayid opened his mouth to protest, but she did not allow him. "I had to make sure I didn't place myself in a position that would make it difficult for me to move on. Just in case. For Aaron. And for me."

Sayid looked away, out at the listless ocean waves, which were undulating almost soundlessly in the dark distance. He didn't know quite what to say.

"You're worried it's going to be a long time before I let you…" She stopped talking.

He did not think it judicious to answer honestly, so he did not answer at all.

"Well, don't worry. You aren't Charlie," she assured him. "I'm not afraid I'm going to wake up one morning and find you in the middle of the ocean with Aaron. But sex means a lot to me. And I'm not there yet. You'll have to accept that, because I'm through with the whole idea of changing anything about myself just to try to hold onto a man. "

"Claire," he said, in a tone that hinted he thought she was overreacting, "we have only been dating for a short time. Though I would certainly like to make love to you if you are willing, I do not expect it, not now, and not any time soon. Nor do I regard that intimacy as lightly as you seem to think I do." It was not as if he was looking to conquer her and move on. Once they experienced that closeness, he assumed that—as long she didn't choose to walk away—matters would eventually conclude with him sharing her bed, her hut, and her life. It wasn't that he was in any particular hurry to commit himself, it was simply that he expected relationships to follow a logical progression, and that idea did not frighten him. "Nevertheless," he continued, "you must admit you have just dropped something of a warhead with regard to Charlie."

"You mean a bombshell?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I have. I'm sure everybody thought Charlie and I were going at it like rabbits."

"Well, I would not phrase it thus," he mumbled with some embarrassment. He smiled when he realized she was joking. "You are not angry with me?"

"No. Are you with me?" she asked.

"I have no reason to be."

Claire slid close to him, put an arm behind his strong back, and rested her head lightly on his shoulder. "Wow, that was easy. Sawyer is going to be so disappointed."

"Sawyer?" he asked.

"No angst to entertain him."