Bennet still wasn't exactly sure about what Eden meant by 'friends', but he supposed that a friend would be the type to sit with him and toast to his birthday. Or something of the like. But then, the only people on the Island who knew were Claire and Claude and...well, one of the two thought bullets were a perfect present.
Finding Peter was good luck as he could take his mind off the topic. "You look like something's happened," he observed evenly.
Bennet arched an eyebrow easily, eyeing Peter with some amount of veiled bemusement. "I'm always in the process of deep thoughts," he commented. "I'm a very thoughtful person, Peter," he informed him.
"I wasn't implying you weren't." Peter smiled slightly, one of his shoulders moving up and down in a nonchalant shrug. Bennet always seemed so calculating and precise; Peter doubted he could never stop being thoughtful and focused even if he wanted.
"It hasn't happened exactly yet, but it will. I'm getting married."
Charlie had gone out some time ago, but Hiro decided to stick near their hut for the day. He was seated outside, just sort of enjoying the day, when he heard footsteps approaching. Lifting his head, he broke out into a big smile when he saw who was coming over.
"Konnichiwa, Peter Petrelli," he greeted, cheerfully.
Hiro's smile was infectious, and today was no different. Peter felt the same big smile break out on his own face as he raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, Hiro." Cutting across the grass and sand, Peter held a hand up to block the sun from his eyes as he inspected it. Didn't look much different on the outside, but from what little Peter did know about Charlie, he suspected the inside likely had paper chains and more origami than you could shake a stick at.
"Yes," he said, standing up and wiping the soil from his hands. He didn't bother to pick up his katana, which was leaning against the hut next to him. "I not see you in a little bit. How are you?"
"I'm fine," Peter said, the corners of his mouth twitching. He could feel his smile grow even larger, though he didn't know how that was even possible. "More than fine, really."
It was a good thing Peter had run across Hiro. Not only did Peter have something to tell him, but there was also a very important question to be asked.
"I've got some news and a question for you. Which do you wanna hear first?"
Claire was laying on her stomach on her bed listening to Hunter's iPod. She clicked past song after song; his taste in music kind of sucked. Kicking her barefeet slowly to the beat, she had Mr. Muggles curled against her and she was drawing random hearts and flowers in the margins of her notebook...where she was supposed to be working on her French.
Peter stood in the entryway to Claire's room as quietly as he could. He wasn't sure where she'd gotten the iPod from, but she was completely caught up in the music and her doodles. Beside her, Mr. Muggles did nothing more than blink blearily upon noticing Peter's presence.
With a small, bemused smile, Peter approached her bed, standing over her. He could just see over her shoulder. Noticing the abandoned textbook, Peter laughed. "Getting a lot done on your French assignment, huh?"
"Oui," she said, totally bored. "French and History and stuff."
She rolled over onto her side and smiled at him, turning the volume down, but not taking out the buds. "Your mom speaks French. I just don't rememeber what she said."
"It was probably something about how you needed to keep the family's best interest in mind with something completely judgemental in a supposedly constructive way tossed in for good measure," Peter said, though he was only half-joking. As much as he loved his mother, he knew she could be harsh if needs be...though he had rarely been on the receiving end of such treatment.
"Which doesn't really matter 'cause you're here now," he concluded, smiling.
Claude was on the roof, tossing crushed bread into the pigeon coop. About half of them were there, the only half taking their daily flight around the island. So far none of them had yet to not return, but Claude figured pragmatically that one of them would get eaten by a dinosaur one of these days or something.
The roof, just like it had been back in New York, was the first place Peter went looking for Claude. As expected, he was there. Taking a piece of bread he'd grabbed from the kitchen out of his jacket pocket, Peter slowly began tearing it into pieces as he approached the coop. Not looking at Claude, but rather keeping his eye on the coop, Peter said, "I thought I'd find you up here."
"Well aren't you a regular Hardy Boy," said Claude, not looking up either. "Not many places I'd be unless you thought I'd up and decided to go dino hunting."
"Yeah, that's me all right. Never could figure out if I was Frank or Joe, though." Snorting, Peter tossed a few of the crumbs in one section of the coop. He watched as one of the pigeons bobbed its head and snatched the bread up.
"Since I never took you for a Jurassic Park sorta guy, this was my best best."
It was quite easy to find Nathan. For one thing, it seemed he rarely ever left the compound. More often than not, he could be found sitting in the kitchen, or the rec room, reading a book, or in a few cases, old copies of the Tabula Rasa Times. He'd let himself go a bit, his hair combed but not gelled or moussed, and going several days between shaving. Most of time, he was seen wearing cargo shorts, and these god-awful Aloha shirts.
When Peter found him, Nathan was wearing exactly this sort of attire, and looking as though he'd last shaved perhaps the day before. At the same time, he was sipping a cup of coffee, the most 'recent' issue of the island's newspaper spread out on the kitchen table in front of him.
It was almost a relief that Nathan was the first person Peter sought after and had found. If he had run into any of the others first, he would have been disappointed. Nathan was his brother and Peter simply needed to tell him first, needed his approval. They were connected. Peter couldn't help the innate desire to seek his brother out before anyone else.
When he spotted Nathan in the kitchen, pouring over an issue of The Tabula Rasa Times as though it were the Post, Peter smiled. While the attire was decidedly not the Nathan he was used to, the newspaper ritual was very familiar.
Pulling a chair out opposite Nathan, Peter slid in it. Placing a hand on top of the paper, pushing it to the tabletop, Peter could not stop the smile from forming on his face.
Nathan looked up from the paper perplexed, dark brows knitted together. "Hello to you too," he said, before his expression softened just the slightest bit. He'd been right in the middle of an article on a decline in disappearances, but he supposed the paper wasn't going anywhere.
"What's up, Peter?" he asked, before lifting his coffee mug to his lips, and taking a sip.
"Well," Peter began slowly, the word drawn out as he tried to decide how to approach this. The smile settled in, softened slightly as he watched his older brother. Impulsively, he reached out and touched the crook of Nathan's elbow. "How did you know Heidi was the one?"
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Finding Peter was good luck as he could take his mind off the topic. "You look like something's happened," he observed evenly.
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"Hey," Peter greeted, unable to stop a wide smile from curving his mouth. "Yeah, something kinda has."
Rocking back on his heels, Peter took a moment to look at Bennet. "You look like I've interrupted some deep thoughts," he said lightly.
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"What's happened?"
He needed the knowledge.
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"It hasn't happened exactly yet, but it will. I'm getting married."
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"Konnichiwa, Peter Petrelli," he greeted, cheerfully.
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"Nice day, huh?"
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It was a good thing Peter had run across Hiro. Not only did Peter have something to tell him, but there was also a very important question to be asked.
"I've got some news and a question for you. Which do you wanna hear first?"
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With a small, bemused smile, Peter approached her bed, standing over her. He could just see over her shoulder. Noticing the abandoned textbook, Peter laughed. "Getting a lot done on your French assignment, huh?"
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She rolled over onto her side and smiled at him, turning the volume down, but not taking out the buds. "Your mom speaks French. I just don't rememeber what she said."
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"Which doesn't really matter 'cause you're here now," he concluded, smiling.
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"Since I never took you for a Jurassic Park sorta guy, this was my best best."
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When Peter found him, Nathan was wearing exactly this sort of attire, and looking as though he'd last shaved perhaps the day before. At the same time, he was sipping a cup of coffee, the most 'recent' issue of the island's newspaper spread out on the kitchen table in front of him.
Reply
When he spotted Nathan in the kitchen, pouring over an issue of The Tabula Rasa Times as though it were the Post, Peter smiled. While the attire was decidedly not the Nathan he was used to, the newspaper ritual was very familiar.
Pulling a chair out opposite Nathan, Peter slid in it. Placing a hand on top of the paper, pushing it to the tabletop, Peter could not stop the smile from forming on his face.
"I'm glad I found you."
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"What's up, Peter?" he asked, before lifting his coffee mug to his lips, and taking a sip.
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