Pairing: Shannon/Boone

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An old memory comes back to Boone while he creates a new one.

Spoilers: Hearts and Minds

Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with 'Lost'. I just wish I did.

Memory

He has a memory he holds close within his heart.

He hasn't been in the house long. His mother only remarried a short time ago but he knows he hates the house and he hates his new stepfather. He knows he wants to go back to the old house but he doesn't say anything. Boone is only 10. His words and opinion would have all the worth of the fortune hidden inside a cookie in a Chinese food restaurant: Looked at, and for all the reader's intention to remember, forgotten hours later, tossed aside and discarded with everything else.

As he nears the pool he sees her sitting there, her skinny legs dangling over the pool's edge. He can tell she is crying, wiping her tears and nose on her arm even though her dress is sleeveless. For a moment he harbors the idea of turning around and leaving her alone with her sorrow.

It leaves quickly and he finds himself walking towards her. She looks at him her eyes bloodshot. There is loathing in those eyes. She hates him. He knows it. His mother and him are trespassers. The little girl in front of him will never accept or forgive the sin they committed against her by entering her life.

"What do you want?" Shannon demands boldly, her blond hair flies away from her face in strands of gold. For the first time Boone notices the red mark on her face. He knows whose hand has left it there. For one of the few times in his life Boone feels a fierce anger and hatred for the woman he calls mother.

"Nothing really," he says. "Just wandering around."

He picks up a rock. It seems to have no purpose for being there other than for what he is about to do. He throws it into the pool and together they watch it fall slowly through the water and land on the pool floor.

The silence that follows is broken occasionally by the low muffled sound of the girl crying. He steals glances at her and prays that she doesn't notice. In all his life he believes he will never see anything more beautiful than her.

Wanting to be near her, the urge steadily increasing to offer comfort, the boy slowly moves closer. She treats him with the same indifference but lets him sit next to her. He cannot tell if she wants him there, cannot tell if she doesn't. A cry escapes from her lips, full of grief and the helplessness of being left to fend for yourself in a world that cares almost nothing for you. It is the saddest sound Boone has ever heard. He moves his hand close to hers, gradually clasping her tiny one in his own small palm. She doesn't toss his hand aside as he had feared. Instead she locks her own fingers with his. They sit by the pool for a long time, hands clasped together.

Years later once again their hands become linked, this time on the bed on which they are lying. The memory of that day when they were both young flashes through Boone's mind as their hands come together. Though they are older now he still sees Shannon and himself as those children. The difference now is the intense passion and physical desire that comes with growing up. The innocence remains still. The pure love he felt for the little girl crying by the pool's edge has never left him, lingering in his heart and soul. For many years his desires and love have been building for this moment. She has let him and he hasn't the strength to deny any longer all that he feels. The sad, painful, beautiful love he has always felt for her. She reacts to him with equal longing. Her body close, her kisses so sweet and searching. She responds to his passion with signs of her own.

When it is finished and he longs to hold her in his arms she rises suddenly, escaping his embrace. He cannot see her but he listens while she picks up her clothing from the floor where it lies scattered. The princess made of ice whom only moments before had melted in his arms has frozen once again. Boone's emotions threaten to kill him. When he had held her he had been sure she loved him as much as he loved her. Now he can't be sure. He holds his head in his hands. The lights come on to reveal Shannon sitting in the chair by the lamp. She is dressed now while Boone lies naked on the bed. Once again she has put on her mask while he remains exposed.

She tells him that things will return to how they were. She is in control and he has no say in the matter. And what is he suppose to do with his love he wants to shout at her. It has been spoken out loud. His heart and soul feel as bare and raw as his body.

He shouldn't have done this he tells himself. It will always be waiting there to haunt him, coming back to him so easily whenever she is near. The remembrance of how she felt in his arms when he had been allowed to love her. He will often return to that moment. He will have to live with its memory forever and the realization gives him as much joy as it does pain.

finis