Fic; The Spy Business [Heroes, PG-13]
Title: The Spy Business
Author: sweetbelle07
Fandom: Heroes
Character(s): Nathan, Peter/Claire, little bit of a Simon appearance
Rating: PG-13 to a really light R, I wanna say
Summary: Why Nathan Petrelli should never poke around Claire Bennet's business
Nathan loves his brother. There is absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind about that. Not even Peter's when he's on the receiving end of a verbal whiplash. Something that happens more often then one would think it would. But then again.. with Peter's inability to think things through and Nathan's impatience with that trait, maybe it doesn't happen enough.
But even Nathan gets a little annoyed when Peter's in his kitchen at six thirty in the morning, grinning like an idiot with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. Or maybe he's mostly just annoyed that Peter's there now and he wasn't when Nathan went to bed.
"... What are you doing?"
"Breakfast," Peter answers in a 'duh' sort of tone.
"Why?"
"Well, you see, Nathan," Peter sighs. "It's morning. I'm hungry. Thus breakfast."
Nathan narrows his eyes. He is not amused. It's too early for Peter's sarcasm. "Why here?"
Peter shrugs. "I was in the area. You don't mind, do you?"
Nathan shakes his head. No, he doesn't mind that Peter's eating his food. There's plenty for everyone.
And he's not going to think of what could possibly bring Peter to his part of New York at six thirty in the morning. It's always safest to turn the other cheek to Peter's antics whenever possible.
--
Nathan can deal with hyper. He has two young sons after all and he's not that old. What he can't deal with is chipper. And that seems to be all that his new daughter Claire is made of.
"Do you have any idea of what time it is?"
A blank look crosses Claire's face as she glances at the digital clock on the stove. "It's a little after seven."
"It's a Saturday."
The blank look's still there as she nods. "Yeah..."
"Saturday morning."
Still not getting it. "Uh huh..."
"Don't teenagers sleep until noon?"
Claire laughs, and sips at her coffee. "I've got things to do," she says with a shrug. "That's not against the rules, is it?"
No, Nathan supposes that it's not. It's just weird. Even Peter, the world's most annoying morning person, couldn't wait to sleep in on Saturday mornings. "Did you make enough for everyone?"
Claire's smiling as she passes him the coffee pot.
Nathan's pretty sure he's missing something.
--
"Daddy?"
Nathan finishes the line he's on before he looks up from the case file. See, he's not like his father. He puts his sons first... most of the time. "What's up, Simon?"
"Are ghosts real?"
Nathan frowns slightly at his younger son, beckoning the boy behind his desk. He hauls Simon onto his lap before asking, "Why do you want to know that?"
"Cause I think the house is haunted," Simon says seriously.
"What makes you think the house is haunted?"
"I hear things," Simon says in a quiet voice. He's seven years old. He's allowed to be scared. Which is why Nathan tightens his arms around him a little and waits patiently for him to continue. "Noises. Like voices and thumping and stuff."
Nathan nods. "Tell you what," he says. "Tonight you and me will have a stake out. We'll see if there really is a ghost here."
"What's a stake out?"
"A sleepover in the den, pretty much."
Simon brightens immediately. "Monty hears things too."
"I wouldn't dream of leaving Monty out."
--
"Did you hear that?"
The strange thing is yes, Nathan did hear that. But he doesn't believe in ghosts. Ghosts are irrational and illogical and even Peter would agree with him that they don't exist.
But Nathan does believe he had a teenage daughter who undoubtedly has friends who don't understand the meaning of curfew.
Nathan excuses himself from the den, telling his sons to stay where they are, and then he goes straight for his daughter's room, his fist poised to start banging on her door when he hears it. A soft giggle and then a low moan.
Oh for the love of God...
--
So his daughter is sneaking someone into the house to have sex with three or four nights a week..
Nathan doesn't have any real proof. He hasn't seen them. Thank God. He didn't bang on her door and demand that her little friend leave that night. He didn't really feel like kicking out a boy from Claire's room in front of his sons' because God only knew that they'd ask exactly what the strange boy was doing in their half sister's room.
But he's heard them and the memory of the sound makes him cringe every time he thinks about it.
He needs proof. This he knows from being a lawyer. If he's going to yell at his daughter for smuggling in a boy, then he's going to need proof so she can't weasel her way out of it with a quick wit and a pretty smile.
Still, it makes him a little sick as he places the camera between the stuffed bear and the stuffed rabbit on her bookshelf.
---
Nathan settles down the next night in his office. The camera in Claire's room is running a live feed on the small TV on his desk. He hasn't been paying it much attention so far. Nothing good's happened. Claire's listened to music. Finished her homework. Right now, she's reading a book for her English Lit class.
No, scratch that. The book is on the floor and she's hugging a boy by her closet.
Fucker must've climbed in through her damned window. Nathan notes this on the legal pad near his hand... with slightly less explicit language.
Claire pulls back from her boy, and grins up at him. A half second later, she moves up on her tip toes and touches her lips to his. His hand slides into her hair. Her hand goes to rest on the back of his neck. This is all the proof Nathan needs to nail her but suddenly he wants to know exactly who the little punk is before he bursts in on them.
It's exceptionally scarier when your girlfriend's father bursts in on you making out with her in her room and calls you by your name without ever having met you, after all.
Nathan pushes aside the small wave of nausea that wells up in his throat as he watches the small screen. He's a lawyer. He can do this. Now if only they would just turn around, he could bust them already.
They don't of course. Mystery Boy backs Claire up towards her bed and she lets him, giggling as he trails kisses down the side of her neck.
"You're late..." she practically sings.
"His light's still on downstairs," the boy answers, pushing her down on the bed and then climbing on top of her.
"You're supposed..." she pauses, leaning up to kiss him and pull off his shirt. "... To wait until he goes to bed."
So they've been planning this around his schedule. That's possibly why it took him so long to notice. Nathan notes this as well and knows that he is going to get a sick pleasure from breaking the two of them up.
"Sue me for getting impatient," Mystery Boy growls, pulling her shirt off too. He kisses her long and hard and Nathan wonders if it's possible to burn the image of a boy pawing at his daughter's breast out of his mind.
"Mmnn," Claire giggles as she grips his shoulders and rolls him onto his back. Nathan leans forward a little. All she has to do is move a foot in any direction and he'll be able to finally see the face of her secret boyfriend. "Maybe I will."
"Gonna ask him to represent you?" Mystery Boy asks, sliding his hands down her back, unclasping her bra. It ends up on the floor in two seconds flat. His daughter's picked a horny little bastard for herself.
"Of course," Claire whispers, leaning down and kissing him again.
"Daddy?" she says in a high pitched voice, clearly imitating herself. She starts to kiss along her Mystery Boy's jaw. Nathan can almost see the boy's face. So far he can see the floppy hair and the wide forehead above her golden head.
Claire scoots further down her lover's body, pressing kisses in a trail from the spot by his ear down to his chest. He can see the face now. Nathan knows that face too. Oh so very well. So well that he doesn't want to believe that it's really who it is.
Oh, please no...
"Will you sue Uncle Peter for me? He wasn't on time to fuck me."
This, Nathan thinks, is what having a heart attack feels like.
Author: sweetbelle07
Fandom: Heroes
Character(s): Nathan, Peter/Claire, little bit of a Simon appearance
Rating: PG-13 to a really light R, I wanna say
Summary: Why Nathan Petrelli should never poke around Claire Bennet's business
Nathan loves his brother. There is absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind about that. Not even Peter's when he's on the receiving end of a verbal whiplash. Something that happens more often then one would think it would. But then again.. with Peter's inability to think things through and Nathan's impatience with that trait, maybe it doesn't happen enough.
But even Nathan gets a little annoyed when Peter's in his kitchen at six thirty in the morning, grinning like an idiot with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. Or maybe he's mostly just annoyed that Peter's there now and he wasn't when Nathan went to bed.
"... What are you doing?"
"Breakfast," Peter answers in a 'duh' sort of tone.
"Why?"
"Well, you see, Nathan," Peter sighs. "It's morning. I'm hungry. Thus breakfast."
Nathan narrows his eyes. He is not amused. It's too early for Peter's sarcasm. "Why here?"
Peter shrugs. "I was in the area. You don't mind, do you?"
Nathan shakes his head. No, he doesn't mind that Peter's eating his food. There's plenty for everyone.
And he's not going to think of what could possibly bring Peter to his part of New York at six thirty in the morning. It's always safest to turn the other cheek to Peter's antics whenever possible.
--
Nathan can deal with hyper. He has two young sons after all and he's not that old. What he can't deal with is chipper. And that seems to be all that his new daughter Claire is made of.
"Do you have any idea of what time it is?"
A blank look crosses Claire's face as she glances at the digital clock on the stove. "It's a little after seven."
"It's a Saturday."
The blank look's still there as she nods. "Yeah..."
"Saturday morning."
Still not getting it. "Uh huh..."
"Don't teenagers sleep until noon?"
Claire laughs, and sips at her coffee. "I've got things to do," she says with a shrug. "That's not against the rules, is it?"
No, Nathan supposes that it's not. It's just weird. Even Peter, the world's most annoying morning person, couldn't wait to sleep in on Saturday mornings. "Did you make enough for everyone?"
Claire's smiling as she passes him the coffee pot.
Nathan's pretty sure he's missing something.
--
"Daddy?"
Nathan finishes the line he's on before he looks up from the case file. See, he's not like his father. He puts his sons first... most of the time. "What's up, Simon?"
"Are ghosts real?"
Nathan frowns slightly at his younger son, beckoning the boy behind his desk. He hauls Simon onto his lap before asking, "Why do you want to know that?"
"Cause I think the house is haunted," Simon says seriously.
"What makes you think the house is haunted?"
"I hear things," Simon says in a quiet voice. He's seven years old. He's allowed to be scared. Which is why Nathan tightens his arms around him a little and waits patiently for him to continue. "Noises. Like voices and thumping and stuff."
Nathan nods. "Tell you what," he says. "Tonight you and me will have a stake out. We'll see if there really is a ghost here."
"What's a stake out?"
"A sleepover in the den, pretty much."
Simon brightens immediately. "Monty hears things too."
"I wouldn't dream of leaving Monty out."
--
"Did you hear that?"
The strange thing is yes, Nathan did hear that. But he doesn't believe in ghosts. Ghosts are irrational and illogical and even Peter would agree with him that they don't exist.
But Nathan does believe he had a teenage daughter who undoubtedly has friends who don't understand the meaning of curfew.
Nathan excuses himself from the den, telling his sons to stay where they are, and then he goes straight for his daughter's room, his fist poised to start banging on her door when he hears it. A soft giggle and then a low moan.
Oh for the love of God...
--
So his daughter is sneaking someone into the house to have sex with three or four nights a week..
Nathan doesn't have any real proof. He hasn't seen them. Thank God. He didn't bang on her door and demand that her little friend leave that night. He didn't really feel like kicking out a boy from Claire's room in front of his sons' because God only knew that they'd ask exactly what the strange boy was doing in their half sister's room.
But he's heard them and the memory of the sound makes him cringe every time he thinks about it.
He needs proof. This he knows from being a lawyer. If he's going to yell at his daughter for smuggling in a boy, then he's going to need proof so she can't weasel her way out of it with a quick wit and a pretty smile.
Still, it makes him a little sick as he places the camera between the stuffed bear and the stuffed rabbit on her bookshelf.
---
Nathan settles down the next night in his office. The camera in Claire's room is running a live feed on the small TV on his desk. He hasn't been paying it much attention so far. Nothing good's happened. Claire's listened to music. Finished her homework. Right now, she's reading a book for her English Lit class.
No, scratch that. The book is on the floor and she's hugging a boy by her closet.
Fucker must've climbed in through her damned window. Nathan notes this on the legal pad near his hand... with slightly less explicit language.
Claire pulls back from her boy, and grins up at him. A half second later, she moves up on her tip toes and touches her lips to his. His hand slides into her hair. Her hand goes to rest on the back of his neck. This is all the proof Nathan needs to nail her but suddenly he wants to know exactly who the little punk is before he bursts in on them.
It's exceptionally scarier when your girlfriend's father bursts in on you making out with her in her room and calls you by your name without ever having met you, after all.
Nathan pushes aside the small wave of nausea that wells up in his throat as he watches the small screen. He's a lawyer. He can do this. Now if only they would just turn around, he could bust them already.
They don't of course. Mystery Boy backs Claire up towards her bed and she lets him, giggling as he trails kisses down the side of her neck.
"You're late..." she practically sings.
"His light's still on downstairs," the boy answers, pushing her down on the bed and then climbing on top of her.
"You're supposed..." she pauses, leaning up to kiss him and pull off his shirt. "... To wait until he goes to bed."
So they've been planning this around his schedule. That's possibly why it took him so long to notice. Nathan notes this as well and knows that he is going to get a sick pleasure from breaking the two of them up.
"Sue me for getting impatient," Mystery Boy growls, pulling her shirt off too. He kisses her long and hard and Nathan wonders if it's possible to burn the image of a boy pawing at his daughter's breast out of his mind.
"Mmnn," Claire giggles as she grips his shoulders and rolls him onto his back. Nathan leans forward a little. All she has to do is move a foot in any direction and he'll be able to finally see the face of her secret boyfriend. "Maybe I will."
"Gonna ask him to represent you?" Mystery Boy asks, sliding his hands down her back, unclasping her bra. It ends up on the floor in two seconds flat. His daughter's picked a horny little bastard for herself.
"Of course," Claire whispers, leaning down and kissing him again.
"Daddy?" she says in a high pitched voice, clearly imitating herself. She starts to kiss along her Mystery Boy's jaw. Nathan can almost see the boy's face. So far he can see the floppy hair and the wide forehead above her golden head.
Claire scoots further down her lover's body, pressing kisses in a trail from the spot by his ear down to his chest. He can see the face now. Nathan knows that face too. Oh so very well. So well that he doesn't want to believe that it's really who it is.
Oh, please no...
"Will you sue Uncle Peter for me? He wasn't on time to fuck me."
This, Nathan thinks, is what having a heart attack feels like.