My Girl

A/N: Story about Charlie/Claire, Sawyer/Kate, Sayid/Shannon. Little fluffies!

I’ve got sunshine…on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.

Sayid watched her put the shoes on, the ones that weren’t her size, but had fit her anyway because her feet had swollen.

Shannon turned and smiled at him – that warm, pearl smile that reflected the light and lit up his heart.

He thought back to his time in the service, to the evils he had done years before – and then to her innocence, and her beauty, and all the things that had led him to her.

And he’d help her carry the load.

Well, I guess you’ll say…what can make me feel this way? My Girl, My Girl, My Girl, Talkin’ ‘bout My Girl

I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song…than the birds in the trees.

How cocky he acted around her didn’t mean anything but protecting himself. She seemed to know that…and that is why she always came back, and was there for him.

Like no one ever had been.

Even through all they had put each other through, there had been some moments of true love. True passion. And true meaning. And that, he thought, was what would bring them through to the end.

All the tension, all the craziness here…it only made them stronger, and only made them wiser. Hate. Denial. Lies. It was human. They were human.

Just different from the others.

And that was what truly brought them together.

James and Kate Ford.

Even the names sounded good together.

Well, I guess you’ll say what can make me feel this way? My Girl, My Girl, My Girl Talkin’ ‘bout My Girl

I don’t need no money, fortune or fame. I’ve got all the riches, baby. One man can claim.

Her eyes gently twinkled in the sunlight, the new baby boy in her arms. Charlie had his arm around her, smiling at the group around them and then finally down at the mother, who smiled back.

And a feeling of importance swept over them…a feeling that he had never felt on stage, or with any other girl, or with his guitar.

A feeling of companionship, of commitment. Of serious love. Love like that could never be doubted.

And neither could a feeling of kissing those light lips.

But there would be time for that.

A lot more time for that.

The baby was just about as beautiful as she was. Claire Littelton, his girl.

Nothing else – no object, no person, no thing could ever amount to this.

To his family.

Well, I guess you’ll say what can make me feel this way…My Girl, My Girl, My Girl, Talkin’ ‘bout My Girl

-LOST-

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