Fic- Whatever it takes 18
Title- Whatever it takes 18/?
Author- Faythbrady
Show/Ship- Heroes, Sylar/Claire, Peter/Emma
Warning- Swearing be here. PG-13
Disclaimer- I have magic powers. You will believe I own it all.
Summary- What a way to wake up
Chapter 18
She came around slowly, life and consciousness returning to her in degrees. She was warm and she felt safe and content. There was a steady thrum in her veins, a drum beat of security and a wonderful smell surrounding her.
She was anchored fast against something warm and hard and it was a familiar feeling, reminding her of waking up wrapped in her dad's arms, knowing full well that she was safe and that she was loved.
But it didn't smell anything like her dad and she breathed deeply inhaling as much as she could. She could smell sandalwood and spice and something that was essentially male.
A specific male; Sylar.
Claire remembered coming to Peter's for a movie night and feeling very sleepy. She'd leaned against Sylar (who hadn't seemed to mind) and then...
ah.
Apparently she'd fallen asleep on him. The thought of curling up against the ex-serial killer made her grin inwardly. The Claire Bennet of a year ago would have been horrified at the very thought, the Claire Bennet of a month ago would have claimed it as impossible. This Claire Bennet was very cozy and quite pleased to find herself in this predicament thank you very much.
Sylar was exceptionally comfortable and smelled delicious.
She could feel his hand heavy on her head, like he had been stroking her hair and had lulled himself to sleep and Claire felt the urge to purr like a cat and rub herself against his...
Her eyes widened.
Okay, perhaps it was time to wake him up.
She allowed herself several more seconds, luxuriating in the feeling of being held before she opened her eyes.
She had twisted in her sleep so that she was laying against his chest with one ear over his heart facing him.
He looked so different with his defenses down and without his usual aura of intensity. Relaxed and unaware he looked younger somehow, innocent and deceptively sweet.
His lashes were impossibly long, casting dark half moons against his cheeks. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random spikes. It was cute, adorable, and ridiculously sexy.
Claire sighed. It really wasn't fair that he was just so attractive. Maybe she could have stayed mad at him for longer if it wasn't for his puppy-dog eyes and the way his lower lip pouted when he was hurt. Still, she'd given it her best shot, and when a guy who looked like he did told her that he would protect her forever and meant it- well, she was only human.
Mostly.
Sylar twitched in his sleep, his nose wrinkling like a little boy and his eyes fluttered open. He frowned slightly as if puzzling where he was and Claire held her breath.
He stiffened slightly and his eyes darted down to meet hers.
A slow, tender smile crept over his face.
“Hey,” she murmured softly.
“Hey yourself,” he offered back, his voice rough with sleep. “Sleep well?”
She bit her lower lip. “Like a baby. You're very comfortable.”
“Glad I could be of service,” his eyes sparkled.
Claire gave a little laugh. “I'm not apologizing for using you as a pillow.”
His eyes darkened slightly as he leaned forward, trapping her gaze with his. “I wouldn't accept it since it seems I've been using you as my own teddy bear, a Claire-bear,” he winced, “that sounded creepy didn't it?”
“No, it sounded-,” she paused, “okay, maybe a little creepy.”
His arm tightened, like he wanted to hold her for longer but he drew back and glanced up. Light crept in under the closed curtains dousing the room in a diffused orange glow, proclaiming that it was daytime.
Claire stretched like a cat, subtly aware of Sylar watching her as her spine arched. She glanced at her watch.
“Seven. Breakfast time.”
Sylar nodded once and then bit his lip, darting a glance towards the kitchen. “If you don't have plans for this morning I could rustle us up something. I make mean waffles?”
His tone was hesitant, like he expected her to reject him immediately and she felt a pang of guilt.
Last month she would have done so, without a qualm.
She really had been a bitch to him, turning down all of his attempts at building those bridges, telling herself that he had a hidden agenda and was only trying to- what?
She still wasn't sure what she'd imagined his ulterior motives to be, she only knew that she'd thought he'd had them.
Although, to be honest, it wasn't without reason. He had terrorized and stalked and killed members of her family and close friends and she had been well within her rights to hate him.
But hate took so much energy and, really, she was only hurting herself. By forgiving him she had let all of that go. Hate had blinded her to the fact that Sylar was no longer the psychotic murderer with a superiority complex, he was a man.
A man who embodied all that Claire needed and wanted in a partner.
She'd needed someone to trust, someone who would never leave her, never lie to her. Someone who could protect and help her but allow her to grow and be herself; someone who loved her for herself.
She needed someone strong and capable of great power but who would let himself be vulnerable for her.
Like someone who vowed to protect her to time indefinite but secretly worried that she wouldn't want to eat with him.
Ironically enough, the man she had sworn to hate forever was the one man she now wanted with her until the Earth burned. Wasn't life funny.
Now all she had to do was figure a way to make him see that, to make him want her.
Claire propped herself up on her elbow and gave him her best secretive smile. “No.”
His face fell. “Right, you probably have plans and-”
He stopped dead as she reached over and placed a finger on his lips. “Shh, Peter and Emma are still asleep. I say we let them lay in and you and me go out. I'll take that lunch rain check and cash it in for breakfast. If you want?”
His smile could have started small fires. “You have to ask?”
Claire shrugged one shoulder. “You might be sick of me, after all we did spend the night together.” she waggled her eyebrows.
Sylar choked, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Claire giggled and yanked herself up off him. “Come on, I'll freshen up then we can go eat.”
The cafe wasn't crowded, despite it being the breakfast rush and they were able to get pretty good seats towards the back against the window. Sylar had been on the run and full of quite legitimate paranoia for so long that he couldn't sit with his back towards the entrance and had to have a full visual of each and every exit.
Claire had been brought up by Noah Bennet who was, above all else, a consummate expert in paranoid behavior and found nothing odd at all in Sylar's insistence on having that particular seat.
It made her smile.
Sylar slid in opposite her and noted every customer, every entrance and exit and possible escape route. Then he noticed her expression.
“What?”
Claire unfolded her menu and tried to hide the smirk.
“Claire?”
“You won't appreciate the comparison, but you remind me of my dad.”
His expression shuttered. “Nathan?”
Claire shook her head. “No, my other dad. He does that thing you do, checking out threats and putting himself in the line of fire rather than me. One time I swear he even checked under the water glasses to make sure there were no bugs or something.”
Sylar widened his eyes and stared in horrified fascination at the water glasses. He extended his hand slowly and tilted the base with exaggerated care, making Claire laugh out loud.
“I swear if you guys didn't hate each other so much you'd get on.”
“Now that,” Sylar said, “is a truly scary thought. Me and Noah Bennet BFF's.”
Claire choked but Sylar tilted his head thoughtfully.
“You know, that could have happened. If Noah had come in to check on me, take me under his wing rather than let Elle-” he trailed off for a moment. “He'd have become my mentor, I'd have been his 'one of them' and maybe we'd have been friends. I would have been invited around to tea, met his wife, his daughter, his son. Mr Muggles.”
Claire could have seen the way that would have gone. Fifteen year old Claire coming home to find her dad's friend coming to dinner. Her mother would have been all weirdly excited that someone her father worked with was coming over. She'd make Claire and Lyle clear up and wash up and sit down to wait and then Sylar would have walked in with his slicked back hair and dark looks and fifteen year old Claire would have developed her very first crush.
She blushed.
Sylar raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I have to know about that thought. A penny isn't enough, right?”
Claire was about to deny everything but changed her mind, he had never lied to her, maybe it was time to be just as open with him. Besides maybe it would help her to see if their bridge was open for business.
She slid him a coy glance. “I was just thinking that if I met you at fifteen, and you hadn't tried to kill me, I might have had a crush on you.”
He gaped. “On me?”
Claire shrugged. His incredulity was a little unflattering.
“Seriously?”
“Oh come on,” she blurted, “you know you're attractive. Sharp suit and you can be charming when you try. I would have just melted.”
Sylar smiled. He often smiled- well, smirked-- and Claire had seen myriads of his smiles. There was the I've-just-killed-someone smile, the I'm-going-to-kill-you smile, the I'm-redeemed-honest smile, the hopeful smile, the hope-I-haven't-just-put-my-foot-in-it smile, the guilty smile, the amused smile, the sheepish smile, the sardonic smile but this one was just... real.
It was a real honest to god I-am-happy smile and Claire found herself melting in a way that would have made her fifteen year old self proud.
“Thank you,” he said, honestly flattered. “But I doubt it. I looked a little different back then.”
Claire cocked her head and opened her mouth to ask when the waiter came to take their order. Sylar looked as if he hoped that she'd forget that line of inquiry but she was her father's daughter and pinned him with a look as soon as the menu's were taken away.
“How different?”
He took a deep breath. “Let's just say that you would have had no trouble believing I worked for a paper company.”
Claire grinned. “What? Pocket protector, clipboard?”
He gave a one shouldered shrug. “Maybe something like that.”
He leaned across the table. “So how are you enjoying work?”
“Oh no!” Claire laughed and grabbed his arm. “No way are you blowing me off that easy. Spill.”
He regarded her for a long minute. “Okay, Claire. I'll tell you if you answer something for me too. Honestly.”
She sighed. “Your hair looks fine.”
“Good to know, but that wasn't it. I'm not Peter.”
“Okay, so what do you want to know?”
He gnawed his lower lip. “Why did you decided to forgive me?”
Claire blinked. Now that was a question and a half. Why had she decided in that one minute that all was forgiven? She frowned a little and tried to gather her thoughts.
“I want to say because you promised to protect me and be there for me forever, but that's not it entirely.” She grabbed a sugar packet and started to play with it, avoiding his eyes. “I want to say its because eternity is a long time to hate someone or that you earned it or it was time. It's all of that and more and none of it.” Claire sighed in frustration, a furrow in her brow. “I guess... I just...needed to.”
She looked up. “I tried to hate you and that got old fast and you were right; one day everyone we know will be gone and it'll be you and me and,” she smiled, “I'm okay with that. I can't hold a grudge forever so why try? I guess it all boils down to the fact that I just wanted to. I don't know if that's what you want to hear but that's it. Is-is that what you were after?”
He slowly nodded. “Whatever the reason, Claire, I'm glad. I just wanted to know why now? Why not in ten years when you're less pissed or when something else happens?”
Claire shifted back in her chair. “I've been forgiving you for a while, Sylar. I told you that I no longer hated you. I wanted to, don't get me wrong. Boy, did I want to hate you. But... you're actually hard to hate.” Claire grinned suddenly. “For one you're funny, it's hard to be mad at someone who makes you laugh. And you can be ridiculously charming.”
A faint redness spread over his cheeks and she laughed in delight.
“And you blush which is adorable.”
“I don't blush,” he muttered looking away.
“Oh okay,” she teased, “but seriously. I couldn't hate you and that left either being indifferent to you or trying to build those bridges.”
And indifference would only have worked if he hadn't been so damned hot. Not that she was going to tell him that, of course.
“After I stopped looking for reasons to hate you, I saw what you were actually doing to atone and forgiveness kinda came easy. Ish. Easy-ish.”
Sylar stared at her for a long minute and then nodded again. She wished she knew what he was thinking but he just smiled. “Thank you, Claire.”
“You're welcome, now it's your turn.”
He feigned ignorance. “My turn?”
“Sylar. The original. Come on.”
He swallowed and looked down at the sugar packet she had discarded. “My real name is Gabriel Gray.”
Claire blinked. “Seriously.”
“Did you never read my file?” he cocked his head curiously. “I know that you stole some of Noah's once.”
“No. Dad had your file under lock and key and it was encrypted.”
“If it was under lock and key how do you know it was encrypted?” He raised an eyebrow at her impish look.
“Hair pins are not just for amazing hair do's, I learned to lock pick early.”
“Industrious.”
“Nosy,” she corrected. “Anyhow a lot of your file was blacked out. I guess my dad didn't trust any of us.”
The thought still made her sad. Her father had the file under lock and key and encrypted and he still assumed that they were not to be trusted. He was right as it turned out, but that didn't stop it from hurting any the less. Things still weren't right between her and her dad. She loved him, as much as any daughter loved her father. But the things he had done and the lies he had told and, probably, continued to tell, were just too much.
How can you love someone when you never knew if they were telling the truth.
She was glad that her father had Lauren because, after her mother and Lyle had left, Noah really didn't have anyone else. But Lauren was a company girl through and through and Claire was worried that she was making Noah Bennet even more ruthless than before.
If that were even possible.
“So,” she said abruptly, trying to get her mind back on track, “Gabriel Gray huh? Your parents were big on alliteration.”
“I don't know. I don't remember my mother. And my biological father... isn't the type of person you could ask.” Sylar frowned. “This isn't the conversation I wanted to have today, too heavy.”
Claire agreed. She'd just wanted to tease and attempt to flirt with him, see if he responded. She changed the tone. “Yeah, I wanna know about this pocket protector.”
He smirked, appreciating her efforts. “I was a watchmaker, Claire. I wore glasses and sweater sets and parted my hair. I was a nerd.”
Her eyes danced as she tried to picture big bad Sylar as a nerd. “No way.”
“Yep.” He sat back. “Full card carrying member of the geek squad. I loved talk radio and classical music and couldn't speak to girls if my life depended on it.” He inclined his head. “until it did, of course.”
“I still think you would have looked adorable.”
He groaned good-naturedly. “I'm a man, Claire. No guy wants to be told that he's adorable.”
Claire giggled. “Aww poor Sylar, from big bad evil to fluffy cutie in one move.”
His look of sheer disgust sent her into peels of laughter.
“I appreciate the props, Claire, but please don't confuse me with Mr. Muggles.”
“Why not,” she said without thinking, “I let him sleep in my bed.”
The second the words were out of her mouth she closed her eyes, slamming a hand over her lips.
“Oh my god,” she muttered against her palm, mortification written all over her face, “I can't believe I just said that.”
“Me neither,” Sylar murmured.
She buried her face in her hands. “Where's Samuel Sullivan when you need him?”
Sylar laughed. “I wondered that yesterday. See, Claire, I told you we had a lot in common.”
She opened one eye. “I guess we do at that.” She shook her head, eager to change the subject. “I've gotta have had my quota for putting my foot in my mouth. But, ya know, I can actually do that since I'm very flexible. Part of being a cheerleader.”
“Or you could cut off your foot to put in your mouth.”
She frowned. “Maybe something a little less permanent.”
Sylar grinned. “Is this your way of trying to make me forget your last comment.”
No. Not at all. Damn.
“Yes.” She replied brightly. “Is it working?”
“No,” Sylar said leaning forwards, “Can I sleep in your bed?”
Claire blushed. Well this was all kinds of embarrassing. Time to take a lesson from Jackie's book. When on the spot, go on the offensive.
“Why?” she challenged. “Did you want to sleep in my bed?”
He smirked, upping the ante. “Depends, are you in it?”
She fought the flush rising again. She stuck her tongue between her teeth and brazened it out. “Do you want me in it?”
“Yes.”
The playful, teasing tone gave way to sheer brutal honesty tinged with dark need. Claire shuddered as the timbre of his voice flooded through her.
Her smile dropped as they locked gazes, the rest of the world disappearing until it was just the two of them.
Claire's future stretched before her in that instant and she could see myriads of moments like this, sitting in a cafe, walking down the street, waiting for a bus, all things that a normal girl would do, with a guy who would be with her forever.
She swallowed hard and opened her mouth, prepared to let her heart lead the way.
>>>>>
“Yes.”
He hadn't realized that the word had tumbled out of his mouth until it was too late but, now said, he didn't want to take it back; wasn't sure if he could.
It was the truth. He wanted Claire in his bed.
He also wanted her up against the wall, in the shower and on the kitchen table, but there was honesty and then there was just plain greedy.
But she had been flirting and his mind, heart and mouth had just run away with him. Without exception this had been the best day of his life and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. He'd awoken with Claire in his arms, smiling up at him like a debauched angel. She hadn't freaked out, hadn't screamed and called him a pervert. She'd been playful and sweet and had even offered- instigated- breakfast.
And she had been flirting with him. Claire Bennet had been flirting with him so badly that his imagination had taken leaps and landed him firmly on the side of hope.
He looked across the table and met her gaze unflinchingly. Yes, he had said yes. Now what was she going to do? Would she push back or would she call it quit, chicken out of their little game.
Not that it was a game any longer, but did she know that?
His gaze tracked her tongue as it swept over her lower lip and she leaned forwards.
“Because I'm a smoking hot cheerleader?” she tried for teasing but it came out seductive and husky, a lust tinged drawl that had him tensing, refusing to back down.
“No. Because you're Claire.”
The atmosphere between the two of them swelled, thickened and the tension hummed in the air. Her eyes were hooded, pupils wide and eyes full of promise.
Perfect little teeth bit down on her plump lip before she opened her mouth.
The sudden buzz and tremble coming from his shirt pocket made them both jump and startled them.
The mood was broken and Claire looked away.
“G-dammit, son of a-,” Sylar swore as he reached into his pocket, yanking out his cell phone. It was Peter's caller I.D and Sylar cursed his 'best friend' up and down and sideways and spent precious seconds imagining Peter handcuffed to the Empire State building whilst someone threw peanuts at him.
He hit accept and growled.
“Someone better be dead.”
“... bad time?”
Sylar glanced apologetically at Claire. “If this isn't life threatening, Peter, I'm hanging up.”
“It is.”
Sylar rolled his eyes. Of course it was. He'd finally caught a break with Claire so, of course, cosmic Karma insisted that he pay for it. Bastard.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Explain.”
“I just got a call from Sam. Apparently Luke tried to incinerate him.”
Sylar closed his eyes, forcing a tight reign on the never-ending pain in his ass who had foiled his plans with Claire not once but twice in two days.
He wished he had never heard the name Luke bloody Campbell. As it was he was planning on scaring the little shit more than a little the next time he saw him.
He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and sighed. “Okay, fine. I'll head over there now.”
“Okay, sorry buddy. I know you're with Claire and I wouldn't have called unless it was an emergency.”
“Yeah.”
“Was it a really bad time?”
Sylar looked across to the still pink ex-cheerleader who was sitting nonchalantly across from him like the moment had never happened.
“Like you wouldn't believe. You're a bee in my collar, Scully.”
Peter got the X files reference. “Ouch. Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Sylar flipped his phone shut and gave Claire a weak smile.
“Rain check?”
“Problem?” Claire cocked her head.
He nodded. “Apparently Luke isn't playing as nice as I hoped.”
Claire gave him a short laugh. “Seriously, the kid tried to burn a hole through my arm, you figured him for a sanity award?”
“No,” he replied honestly, “I figured he'd be too scared of me to screw up so early.”
Figured, hoped. He didn't want to have to 'eradicate' Luke, but if he couldn't even behave after nearly being fried by Sylar, what chance did he have?
Claire gnawed on her lower lip. “So what are you gonna do?”
He rubbed his eyes again. “No idea, but I better get over there now before one of them dies.” He grabbed the jacket he'd slung over the back of the chair and got to his feet. “Want me to walk you back to your apartment?”
Claire said nothing and he looked over at her in concern. She was staring at him oddly, like she was trying to figure something out.
“Claire?” He prompted and she shook her head slowly, grabbing her own jacket.
“No. I'm coming with you.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she grabbed her bag. “Yesterday you nearly went supernova on the kid and, as much as I think he deserves to be electrocuted, I really need to come with you.”
Sylar felt something slice in his chest and he fought not to let it show. “You don't trust me?”
She looked up surprised. “Of course I do. If you flash-fry the little jerk I want front row seats.
Author- Faythbrady
Show/Ship- Heroes, Sylar/Claire, Peter/Emma
Warning- Swearing be here. PG-13
Disclaimer- I have magic powers. You will believe I own it all.
Summary- What a way to wake up
Chapter 18
She came around slowly, life and consciousness returning to her in degrees. She was warm and she felt safe and content. There was a steady thrum in her veins, a drum beat of security and a wonderful smell surrounding her.
She was anchored fast against something warm and hard and it was a familiar feeling, reminding her of waking up wrapped in her dad's arms, knowing full well that she was safe and that she was loved.
But it didn't smell anything like her dad and she breathed deeply inhaling as much as she could. She could smell sandalwood and spice and something that was essentially male.
A specific male; Sylar.
Claire remembered coming to Peter's for a movie night and feeling very sleepy. She'd leaned against Sylar (who hadn't seemed to mind) and then...
ah.
Apparently she'd fallen asleep on him. The thought of curling up against the ex-serial killer made her grin inwardly. The Claire Bennet of a year ago would have been horrified at the very thought, the Claire Bennet of a month ago would have claimed it as impossible. This Claire Bennet was very cozy and quite pleased to find herself in this predicament thank you very much.
Sylar was exceptionally comfortable and smelled delicious.
She could feel his hand heavy on her head, like he had been stroking her hair and had lulled himself to sleep and Claire felt the urge to purr like a cat and rub herself against his...
Her eyes widened.
Okay, perhaps it was time to wake him up.
She allowed herself several more seconds, luxuriating in the feeling of being held before she opened her eyes.
She had twisted in her sleep so that she was laying against his chest with one ear over his heart facing him.
He looked so different with his defenses down and without his usual aura of intensity. Relaxed and unaware he looked younger somehow, innocent and deceptively sweet.
His lashes were impossibly long, casting dark half moons against his cheeks. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random spikes. It was cute, adorable, and ridiculously sexy.
Claire sighed. It really wasn't fair that he was just so attractive. Maybe she could have stayed mad at him for longer if it wasn't for his puppy-dog eyes and the way his lower lip pouted when he was hurt. Still, she'd given it her best shot, and when a guy who looked like he did told her that he would protect her forever and meant it- well, she was only human.
Mostly.
Sylar twitched in his sleep, his nose wrinkling like a little boy and his eyes fluttered open. He frowned slightly as if puzzling where he was and Claire held her breath.
He stiffened slightly and his eyes darted down to meet hers.
A slow, tender smile crept over his face.
“Hey,” she murmured softly.
“Hey yourself,” he offered back, his voice rough with sleep. “Sleep well?”
She bit her lower lip. “Like a baby. You're very comfortable.”
“Glad I could be of service,” his eyes sparkled.
Claire gave a little laugh. “I'm not apologizing for using you as a pillow.”
His eyes darkened slightly as he leaned forward, trapping her gaze with his. “I wouldn't accept it since it seems I've been using you as my own teddy bear, a Claire-bear,” he winced, “that sounded creepy didn't it?”
“No, it sounded-,” she paused, “okay, maybe a little creepy.”
His arm tightened, like he wanted to hold her for longer but he drew back and glanced up. Light crept in under the closed curtains dousing the room in a diffused orange glow, proclaiming that it was daytime.
Claire stretched like a cat, subtly aware of Sylar watching her as her spine arched. She glanced at her watch.
“Seven. Breakfast time.”
Sylar nodded once and then bit his lip, darting a glance towards the kitchen. “If you don't have plans for this morning I could rustle us up something. I make mean waffles?”
His tone was hesitant, like he expected her to reject him immediately and she felt a pang of guilt.
Last month she would have done so, without a qualm.
She really had been a bitch to him, turning down all of his attempts at building those bridges, telling herself that he had a hidden agenda and was only trying to- what?
She still wasn't sure what she'd imagined his ulterior motives to be, she only knew that she'd thought he'd had them.
Although, to be honest, it wasn't without reason. He had terrorized and stalked and killed members of her family and close friends and she had been well within her rights to hate him.
But hate took so much energy and, really, she was only hurting herself. By forgiving him she had let all of that go. Hate had blinded her to the fact that Sylar was no longer the psychotic murderer with a superiority complex, he was a man.
A man who embodied all that Claire needed and wanted in a partner.
She'd needed someone to trust, someone who would never leave her, never lie to her. Someone who could protect and help her but allow her to grow and be herself; someone who loved her for herself.
She needed someone strong and capable of great power but who would let himself be vulnerable for her.
Like someone who vowed to protect her to time indefinite but secretly worried that she wouldn't want to eat with him.
Ironically enough, the man she had sworn to hate forever was the one man she now wanted with her until the Earth burned. Wasn't life funny.
Now all she had to do was figure a way to make him see that, to make him want her.
Claire propped herself up on her elbow and gave him her best secretive smile. “No.”
His face fell. “Right, you probably have plans and-”
He stopped dead as she reached over and placed a finger on his lips. “Shh, Peter and Emma are still asleep. I say we let them lay in and you and me go out. I'll take that lunch rain check and cash it in for breakfast. If you want?”
His smile could have started small fires. “You have to ask?”
Claire shrugged one shoulder. “You might be sick of me, after all we did spend the night together.” she waggled her eyebrows.
Sylar choked, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Claire giggled and yanked herself up off him. “Come on, I'll freshen up then we can go eat.”
The cafe wasn't crowded, despite it being the breakfast rush and they were able to get pretty good seats towards the back against the window. Sylar had been on the run and full of quite legitimate paranoia for so long that he couldn't sit with his back towards the entrance and had to have a full visual of each and every exit.
Claire had been brought up by Noah Bennet who was, above all else, a consummate expert in paranoid behavior and found nothing odd at all in Sylar's insistence on having that particular seat.
It made her smile.
Sylar slid in opposite her and noted every customer, every entrance and exit and possible escape route. Then he noticed her expression.
“What?”
Claire unfolded her menu and tried to hide the smirk.
“Claire?”
“You won't appreciate the comparison, but you remind me of my dad.”
His expression shuttered. “Nathan?”
Claire shook her head. “No, my other dad. He does that thing you do, checking out threats and putting himself in the line of fire rather than me. One time I swear he even checked under the water glasses to make sure there were no bugs or something.”
Sylar widened his eyes and stared in horrified fascination at the water glasses. He extended his hand slowly and tilted the base with exaggerated care, making Claire laugh out loud.
“I swear if you guys didn't hate each other so much you'd get on.”
“Now that,” Sylar said, “is a truly scary thought. Me and Noah Bennet BFF's.”
Claire choked but Sylar tilted his head thoughtfully.
“You know, that could have happened. If Noah had come in to check on me, take me under his wing rather than let Elle-” he trailed off for a moment. “He'd have become my mentor, I'd have been his 'one of them' and maybe we'd have been friends. I would have been invited around to tea, met his wife, his daughter, his son. Mr Muggles.”
Claire could have seen the way that would have gone. Fifteen year old Claire coming home to find her dad's friend coming to dinner. Her mother would have been all weirdly excited that someone her father worked with was coming over. She'd make Claire and Lyle clear up and wash up and sit down to wait and then Sylar would have walked in with his slicked back hair and dark looks and fifteen year old Claire would have developed her very first crush.
She blushed.
Sylar raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I have to know about that thought. A penny isn't enough, right?”
Claire was about to deny everything but changed her mind, he had never lied to her, maybe it was time to be just as open with him. Besides maybe it would help her to see if their bridge was open for business.
She slid him a coy glance. “I was just thinking that if I met you at fifteen, and you hadn't tried to kill me, I might have had a crush on you.”
He gaped. “On me?”
Claire shrugged. His incredulity was a little unflattering.
“Seriously?”
“Oh come on,” she blurted, “you know you're attractive. Sharp suit and you can be charming when you try. I would have just melted.”
Sylar smiled. He often smiled- well, smirked-- and Claire had seen myriads of his smiles. There was the I've-just-killed-someone smile, the I'm-going-to-kill-you smile, the I'm-redeemed-honest smile, the hopeful smile, the hope-I-haven't-just-put-my-foot-in-it smile, the guilty smile, the amused smile, the sheepish smile, the sardonic smile but this one was just... real.
It was a real honest to god I-am-happy smile and Claire found herself melting in a way that would have made her fifteen year old self proud.
“Thank you,” he said, honestly flattered. “But I doubt it. I looked a little different back then.”
Claire cocked her head and opened her mouth to ask when the waiter came to take their order. Sylar looked as if he hoped that she'd forget that line of inquiry but she was her father's daughter and pinned him with a look as soon as the menu's were taken away.
“How different?”
He took a deep breath. “Let's just say that you would have had no trouble believing I worked for a paper company.”
Claire grinned. “What? Pocket protector, clipboard?”
He gave a one shouldered shrug. “Maybe something like that.”
He leaned across the table. “So how are you enjoying work?”
“Oh no!” Claire laughed and grabbed his arm. “No way are you blowing me off that easy. Spill.”
He regarded her for a long minute. “Okay, Claire. I'll tell you if you answer something for me too. Honestly.”
She sighed. “Your hair looks fine.”
“Good to know, but that wasn't it. I'm not Peter.”
“Okay, so what do you want to know?”
He gnawed his lower lip. “Why did you decided to forgive me?”
Claire blinked. Now that was a question and a half. Why had she decided in that one minute that all was forgiven? She frowned a little and tried to gather her thoughts.
“I want to say because you promised to protect me and be there for me forever, but that's not it entirely.” She grabbed a sugar packet and started to play with it, avoiding his eyes. “I want to say its because eternity is a long time to hate someone or that you earned it or it was time. It's all of that and more and none of it.” Claire sighed in frustration, a furrow in her brow. “I guess... I just...needed to.”
She looked up. “I tried to hate you and that got old fast and you were right; one day everyone we know will be gone and it'll be you and me and,” she smiled, “I'm okay with that. I can't hold a grudge forever so why try? I guess it all boils down to the fact that I just wanted to. I don't know if that's what you want to hear but that's it. Is-is that what you were after?”
He slowly nodded. “Whatever the reason, Claire, I'm glad. I just wanted to know why now? Why not in ten years when you're less pissed or when something else happens?”
Claire shifted back in her chair. “I've been forgiving you for a while, Sylar. I told you that I no longer hated you. I wanted to, don't get me wrong. Boy, did I want to hate you. But... you're actually hard to hate.” Claire grinned suddenly. “For one you're funny, it's hard to be mad at someone who makes you laugh. And you can be ridiculously charming.”
A faint redness spread over his cheeks and she laughed in delight.
“And you blush which is adorable.”
“I don't blush,” he muttered looking away.
“Oh okay,” she teased, “but seriously. I couldn't hate you and that left either being indifferent to you or trying to build those bridges.”
And indifference would only have worked if he hadn't been so damned hot. Not that she was going to tell him that, of course.
“After I stopped looking for reasons to hate you, I saw what you were actually doing to atone and forgiveness kinda came easy. Ish. Easy-ish.”
Sylar stared at her for a long minute and then nodded again. She wished she knew what he was thinking but he just smiled. “Thank you, Claire.”
“You're welcome, now it's your turn.”
He feigned ignorance. “My turn?”
“Sylar. The original. Come on.”
He swallowed and looked down at the sugar packet she had discarded. “My real name is Gabriel Gray.”
Claire blinked. “Seriously.”
“Did you never read my file?” he cocked his head curiously. “I know that you stole some of Noah's once.”
“No. Dad had your file under lock and key and it was encrypted.”
“If it was under lock and key how do you know it was encrypted?” He raised an eyebrow at her impish look.
“Hair pins are not just for amazing hair do's, I learned to lock pick early.”
“Industrious.”
“Nosy,” she corrected. “Anyhow a lot of your file was blacked out. I guess my dad didn't trust any of us.”
The thought still made her sad. Her father had the file under lock and key and encrypted and he still assumed that they were not to be trusted. He was right as it turned out, but that didn't stop it from hurting any the less. Things still weren't right between her and her dad. She loved him, as much as any daughter loved her father. But the things he had done and the lies he had told and, probably, continued to tell, were just too much.
How can you love someone when you never knew if they were telling the truth.
She was glad that her father had Lauren because, after her mother and Lyle had left, Noah really didn't have anyone else. But Lauren was a company girl through and through and Claire was worried that she was making Noah Bennet even more ruthless than before.
If that were even possible.
“So,” she said abruptly, trying to get her mind back on track, “Gabriel Gray huh? Your parents were big on alliteration.”
“I don't know. I don't remember my mother. And my biological father... isn't the type of person you could ask.” Sylar frowned. “This isn't the conversation I wanted to have today, too heavy.”
Claire agreed. She'd just wanted to tease and attempt to flirt with him, see if he responded. She changed the tone. “Yeah, I wanna know about this pocket protector.”
He smirked, appreciating her efforts. “I was a watchmaker, Claire. I wore glasses and sweater sets and parted my hair. I was a nerd.”
Her eyes danced as she tried to picture big bad Sylar as a nerd. “No way.”
“Yep.” He sat back. “Full card carrying member of the geek squad. I loved talk radio and classical music and couldn't speak to girls if my life depended on it.” He inclined his head. “until it did, of course.”
“I still think you would have looked adorable.”
He groaned good-naturedly. “I'm a man, Claire. No guy wants to be told that he's adorable.”
Claire giggled. “Aww poor Sylar, from big bad evil to fluffy cutie in one move.”
His look of sheer disgust sent her into peels of laughter.
“I appreciate the props, Claire, but please don't confuse me with Mr. Muggles.”
“Why not,” she said without thinking, “I let him sleep in my bed.”
The second the words were out of her mouth she closed her eyes, slamming a hand over her lips.
“Oh my god,” she muttered against her palm, mortification written all over her face, “I can't believe I just said that.”
“Me neither,” Sylar murmured.
She buried her face in her hands. “Where's Samuel Sullivan when you need him?”
Sylar laughed. “I wondered that yesterday. See, Claire, I told you we had a lot in common.”
She opened one eye. “I guess we do at that.” She shook her head, eager to change the subject. “I've gotta have had my quota for putting my foot in my mouth. But, ya know, I can actually do that since I'm very flexible. Part of being a cheerleader.”
“Or you could cut off your foot to put in your mouth.”
She frowned. “Maybe something a little less permanent.”
Sylar grinned. “Is this your way of trying to make me forget your last comment.”
No. Not at all. Damn.
“Yes.” She replied brightly. “Is it working?”
“No,” Sylar said leaning forwards, “Can I sleep in your bed?”
Claire blushed. Well this was all kinds of embarrassing. Time to take a lesson from Jackie's book. When on the spot, go on the offensive.
“Why?” she challenged. “Did you want to sleep in my bed?”
He smirked, upping the ante. “Depends, are you in it?”
She fought the flush rising again. She stuck her tongue between her teeth and brazened it out. “Do you want me in it?”
“Yes.”
The playful, teasing tone gave way to sheer brutal honesty tinged with dark need. Claire shuddered as the timbre of his voice flooded through her.
Her smile dropped as they locked gazes, the rest of the world disappearing until it was just the two of them.
Claire's future stretched before her in that instant and she could see myriads of moments like this, sitting in a cafe, walking down the street, waiting for a bus, all things that a normal girl would do, with a guy who would be with her forever.
She swallowed hard and opened her mouth, prepared to let her heart lead the way.
>>>>>
“Yes.”
He hadn't realized that the word had tumbled out of his mouth until it was too late but, now said, he didn't want to take it back; wasn't sure if he could.
It was the truth. He wanted Claire in his bed.
He also wanted her up against the wall, in the shower and on the kitchen table, but there was honesty and then there was just plain greedy.
But she had been flirting and his mind, heart and mouth had just run away with him. Without exception this had been the best day of his life and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. He'd awoken with Claire in his arms, smiling up at him like a debauched angel. She hadn't freaked out, hadn't screamed and called him a pervert. She'd been playful and sweet and had even offered- instigated- breakfast.
And she had been flirting with him. Claire Bennet had been flirting with him so badly that his imagination had taken leaps and landed him firmly on the side of hope.
He looked across the table and met her gaze unflinchingly. Yes, he had said yes. Now what was she going to do? Would she push back or would she call it quit, chicken out of their little game.
Not that it was a game any longer, but did she know that?
His gaze tracked her tongue as it swept over her lower lip and she leaned forwards.
“Because I'm a smoking hot cheerleader?” she tried for teasing but it came out seductive and husky, a lust tinged drawl that had him tensing, refusing to back down.
“No. Because you're Claire.”
The atmosphere between the two of them swelled, thickened and the tension hummed in the air. Her eyes were hooded, pupils wide and eyes full of promise.
Perfect little teeth bit down on her plump lip before she opened her mouth.
The sudden buzz and tremble coming from his shirt pocket made them both jump and startled them.
The mood was broken and Claire looked away.
“G-dammit, son of a-,” Sylar swore as he reached into his pocket, yanking out his cell phone. It was Peter's caller I.D and Sylar cursed his 'best friend' up and down and sideways and spent precious seconds imagining Peter handcuffed to the Empire State building whilst someone threw peanuts at him.
He hit accept and growled.
“Someone better be dead.”
“... bad time?”
Sylar glanced apologetically at Claire. “If this isn't life threatening, Peter, I'm hanging up.”
“It is.”
Sylar rolled his eyes. Of course it was. He'd finally caught a break with Claire so, of course, cosmic Karma insisted that he pay for it. Bastard.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Explain.”
“I just got a call from Sam. Apparently Luke tried to incinerate him.”
Sylar closed his eyes, forcing a tight reign on the never-ending pain in his ass who had foiled his plans with Claire not once but twice in two days.
He wished he had never heard the name Luke bloody Campbell. As it was he was planning on scaring the little shit more than a little the next time he saw him.
He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and sighed. “Okay, fine. I'll head over there now.”
“Okay, sorry buddy. I know you're with Claire and I wouldn't have called unless it was an emergency.”
“Yeah.”
“Was it a really bad time?”
Sylar looked across to the still pink ex-cheerleader who was sitting nonchalantly across from him like the moment had never happened.
“Like you wouldn't believe. You're a bee in my collar, Scully.”
Peter got the X files reference. “Ouch. Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Sylar flipped his phone shut and gave Claire a weak smile.
“Rain check?”
“Problem?” Claire cocked her head.
He nodded. “Apparently Luke isn't playing as nice as I hoped.”
Claire gave him a short laugh. “Seriously, the kid tried to burn a hole through my arm, you figured him for a sanity award?”
“No,” he replied honestly, “I figured he'd be too scared of me to screw up so early.”
Figured, hoped. He didn't want to have to 'eradicate' Luke, but if he couldn't even behave after nearly being fried by Sylar, what chance did he have?
Claire gnawed on her lower lip. “So what are you gonna do?”
He rubbed his eyes again. “No idea, but I better get over there now before one of them dies.” He grabbed the jacket he'd slung over the back of the chair and got to his feet. “Want me to walk you back to your apartment?”
Claire said nothing and he looked over at her in concern. She was staring at him oddly, like she was trying to figure something out.
“Claire?” He prompted and she shook her head slowly, grabbing her own jacket.
“No. I'm coming with you.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she grabbed her bag. “Yesterday you nearly went supernova on the kid and, as much as I think he deserves to be electrocuted, I really need to come with you.”
Sylar felt something slice in his chest and he fought not to let it show. “You don't trust me?”
She looked up surprised. “Of course I do. If you flash-fry the little jerk I want front row seats.