Beauty and the Thief
By EclipseKlutz
PG-13
Drama
Sawyer/Shannon
Disclaimer: I could do a million "if I owned Lost…" things here, but I'll save that for later and just point out directly how I'm writing fanfiction and I'm not in Hawaii and that the only thing I own are a half dozen out-of-date Buffy calendars. Nice run-on sentence, isn't it?
Spoilers: Post "Confidence Man", possible reference to episodes before it
A/N: Again, still running down my very, very, very long list. If anyone who read (and reviewed) my last fic is bothering to read this one, I thank you tons and here's your cookies. ::hands double chocolate chunk cookies to all the reviewers::
"There is something weird I wouldn't believe
I'm loosing grip on my lifetime
I don't understand this wave I'm in
Wrong place, no money, just responsibilities…"
--Lacuna Coil: Wave of Anguish
Sawyer unconsciously rubbed his upper right arm as he read the book that had started it all. It was a good book, not worth the scar he'd have as an island souvenir, but still a good book nonetheless.
He had little to no difficulty following the plotline, unlike how it'd been when he read Dune for the first time—that had been a challenge, even with the dictionary in the back. The characters were likeable enough, he supposed, there was one he wanted to throttle for being so horribly ignorant to everything around them, but that was quite normal. He sympathized naturally with the adjusting thief, who was a bit too much like him for his own comfort, also normal. His only problem with it, other than the slightly wet pages, was how every time it seemed to get to a decent climax, he was interrupted.
Like now.
A shadow fell across the page he'd been skimming through, too tired and anxious to get to the upcoming scene to actually read it properly, and his interrupter walked around him in a half-circle before they stood in front of him. He did his best to suppress a groan as he looked up, holding the book upon with one hand as he did so.
"What have I done to be… honored with your presence, Sticks?" He made sure to allow the sarcasm in his voice drip off, unsure how dull the island's personal beauty queen truly was.
She shifted her weight between one foot and the other awkwardly, as though unsure what to do now that she was standing there. He noticed the mud stains lining the collar of her shirt, and looked over at her questioningly. She didn't see this.
Shannon frowned and inhaled sharply before saying in a tone as uncomfortable as her expression, "I-I wanted to apologize."
It took all of his self-control not to smirk.
Silently he looked down and folded the corner of the page, and gently closed the book as he decided that this was something he didn't want to miss. Leaning forwards slightly he inquired calmly, "And what for, Princess?"
"What is it with you and pet names?" She snapped.
Again, he had to force himself not to smirk—he knew very well how much it annoyed his fellow castaways, which was the only true reason why he ever bothered to keep it up. Instead of voicing this, however, Sawyer simply shrugged, resolving to play dumb as he repeated, "And what were you apologizing for?"
Nervously she bit her lower lip, and took a step towards him. After a moment she reached over and brushed the bandages wrapped around his arm with the tip of her fingers, "That's because of me, isn't it?"
He shook his head, "Nah, Sticks, that has nothin' to do with you."
"We could hear you screaming… at the caves," she stated, her voice shaking. "They-they… did that for the inhalers. Because of me."
"Again, that had very little to do with you," Sawyer responded, as though explaining it to a dull child.
She gave him a reproachful look for the tone he was using, but disregarded any further acknowledgements to it as she sat herself down on the sand, "But--"
This time he cut her off, his voice a bit less patient, "You were just a little pawn. The doc and Aladdin haven't liked me since we got here, and with your whole inhaler issue, it just gave them a better reason to be sadistic."
"You didn't have it," she pointed out. "Why didn't you say so?"
"'Cause, Darlin', I'm a thief. They wouldn't have believed me if I said something."
"But Kate believed you."
"In the end," he said bitterly. "It's hard to lie when your nails feel like they're about to fall off."
She shuddered slightly, "No graphic details, please."
"Princess, you need to fix up your little world. Bushels of roses, no pain and lots of money for beauty products don't exist out here," He informed her, shaking his head.
"Sticks," she corrected quietly, "If you're not gonna call me Shannon, then Sticks. The 'Princess' thing ended when I was five."
"Fine then, Sticks," he acknowledged, leaning back in his chair. Looking over her shoulder he noticed the night slowly setting in and the full moon that had already risen in the distance, frowning he turned back to her, "This has been great and all, but you ought to get back to the caves."
She looked up at him, all wide puppy eyes and elegance, "Can you walk me back?"
He couldn't hold back the smirk this time. "You 'fraid of the dark?"
"A bit," she admitted after a moment's hesitation, "I just can't walk through the woods at night… by myself."
"Then next time you wanna chat, come in the morning," he advised, climbing to his feet and outstretching his left hand, "But I'll walk you back, Sticks… it'll annoy the doc."
She grinned slightly, and took his hand. He hauled her to her feet, which wasn't very hard… Sawyer gave her a sideways glance that seemed to be half concerned and half amused, "Do you eat anything?"
"Um," Shannon shrugged, "Not recently."
He rolled his eyes—typical female. Turning so his back faced her, he dug into the blue backpack that had currently taken over the space beside his chair. Fishing a bag out of it, he turned back to her and handed her a Snickers bar and ordered, "Eat."
"Chocolate?" Her eyes lit up as she snatched the bar from his hand and hastily unwrapped it before stuffing half of the chocolate bar into her mouth. A very entertaining sight in his opinion. After she managed to swallow it she admitted, "I've been wanting chocolate since last week—how long have you had this?"
Sawyer attempted to count it out on his fingers, gave up and shook his head, "Since the day after we crashed. Some guy had a whole bag of chocolate, couldn't resist."
"Do you have milk?" She asked hopefully.
He bit back any incredibly sarcastic retorts and instead offered with a movement that just barely passed as a shrug, "Milk spoils, Sticks, you can't bring it on planes."
Shannon nodded, nibbling at the rest of the bar as though afraid it would disappear too fast. Sawyer, in a slightly more generous mood then he'd been in when she first arrived, dug into the bag and handed her a random block of chocolate, "Let's get movin'—I don't want to meet up with monster dearest."
"You have some of the lamest jokes, Sawyer," she stated, downing the rest of the Snickers.
He was all too happy to point out that despite this, he still had the advantage, "Sure, but I can just stay here with my chocolate and let you walk back alone."
She nodded, "Let's get leaving then."
-------------------------------
Sawyer knew the trek to the caves from the beach a little too well, and could probably walk it with his eyes closed—he might still trip over things, but he'd make it there eventually. His only problem, however, with the several miles separating the two makeshift camps was how long and dull it was to walk… alone.
And at some point at the beginning he was wishing he had gone by himself or stayed behind—Shannon didn't shut up. He got used to after the first ten minutes, and at appropriate intervals when he wanted silence he'd hand her another candy bar. He was fairly certain that if he kept it up she'd have enough chocolate to last her the next couple of months.
"And then he decided that… what was that?" Shannon broke off her tale of the alleged git casting parts in a high school play just as a snapping sound issued loudly from behind them.
Sawyer turned, expertly keeping himself calm and collected, "No idea."
"Probably a squirrel," Shannon stated unconvincingly, stopping in her tracks and turning around quickly as something else broke with a purposefully loud 'crunch' behind them.
He wasn't terrified as much as he was aggravated—if he (or she) got eaten now, there would have been no point in wasting so much of his chocolate. Placing an arm around her shoulder, he guided her quickly through the woods. She stumbled often, and once or twice almost took him down with her, but he was balanced enough to keep them both upright.
Finally she stole a glance over her shoulder and told him quietly, as though afraid some one or something would hear, "I-I think it's gone."
"No point in stopping now, is there, Sticks?"
He saw her nod through the dim moonlight that seeped through the trees, and she looked around warily before turning back to him and tilting her head to the side, "Are we even still on the trail?"
Sawyer shook his head, "Didn't want to lead it to the caves."
"How noble." He inwardly marveled that she could manage sarcasm. After a moment, she added, "Do you know how to get back?"
"'Course—wouldn't risk getting stuck out here, even with you," It took a good deal of control to have said "even" instead of "especially". She didn't seem to notice.
With that he gently steered her in a rather zigzagging path through the trees until they could distantly see the firelight from the camp. He grinned triumphantly, "See? Sticks, I always know where I'm going."
"Then why were you flying to L.A.?" She inquired, and he noticed a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.
He sighed, "Quickest flight far, far away."
She didn't press the matter further as they walked into the camp, receiving odd glances from the few occupants that were still awake. He disregarded them and handed the bag to Shannon, "Take 'em, Sticks, and give some to your brother—didn't profit to jump the kid."
She nodded, cautiously taking the bad from his hands, "How do I know you're not gonna take them back?"
He bowed, low, sweeping and mocking. "You know the tale of Beauty and the Beast, right?"
"It has nothing to do with this," she pointed out.
"Maybe, maybe not," He offered, deciding it'd give her something to think about for the night. She frowned and made a move to walk away, but he stated, "You know, you never did apologize."
A sly smile tugged at the corners of her frown, and she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek before whispering in his ear, "Wasn't my fault."
He grinned and watched as she turned and bounded off towards the cave she shared with her brother. As the grin faded he headed towards the cave he knew he could do the most damage in by crashing for the night—Jack's.
She learned his lesson after all.
A/N: I'm gonna ask you not to ask me what his "lesson" was, and instead think on it or reread the first part...
All reviewers get cookies (again). Flames are used to forge grudges and roast marshmallows. Constructive criticism is acknowledged most of the time. Positive reviewers get love and a box of imaginary cookies.