Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes and am not gaining anything from this story, other than the enjoyment of writing it.
Gabriel Gray settled back into his chair, stretching his arms until he heard a satisfying pop. He had been working on a particularly difficult piece, nine hours in and no real progress had been made. He sighed. There was nothing much more he could do tonight tomorrow was another day.
Loud banging nearly toppled the watchmaker from his seat. Who could that possibly be at this hour? His shop was closed and to his shame he had no friends to speak of. Gabriel removed his glasses reluctantly, apprehension enveloping him as he made his way to the front of the shop. Gabriel couldn't help but stare in awe at the pretty blonde standing restlessly behind the glass. What the hell?
"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to let me in?" Her voice was slightly muffled. Gabriel swallowed trying to find the courage to speak. All he could he think of was why was she here? Maybe she was desperate for his services and couldn't wait until the morning too conceited to believe that closing times didn't really apply to her.
"Um—we're not open."
"Obviously. Would you just open the damn door."
Gabriel stepped out from behind the counter to unlock the door for the insistent woman. He stared at the floor as she brushed past him entering with no further delay. When he looked up he found her staring at him, head cocked to the side.
"Was there something you wanted?" Gabriel asked shyly.
"You."
"Me?" he stuttered.
"That's right Sylar," she said coldly.
"Sorry, but you must have the wrong person. My name's Gabriel." He was very confused. Who was this woman? Why did she believe him to be this Sylar?
"I know exactly who you are even if you don't." She withdrew the gun from behind her back, aiming at his head. "You're a murderer." Gabriel backed up slowly, hands outstretched, until the wall halted his retreat. Shouldn't my life be flashing before my eyes or something? His heart rate increased, tearing its way free from his chest. He could barely breathe through his fear. Any doubt that she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger was erased by her pitiless expression. "You're going to pay for what you did. I haven't forgotten what you did to me, to all the others. You are nothing more than a monster."
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I don't even know you."
"Sure you do. Well—you did before you had Parkman turn you back into a pathetic watchmaker."
"Parkman?—please I swear whatever you think I've done you're mistaken. I fix watches. I would never—I would never hurt anyone." Gabriel flinched away, afraid the tiny woman would attack at any moment. She simply sneered apparently finding his statement amusing.
"You want to know something, Gabriel; vengeance is not nearly as satisfying when the person you punish is a substitute for the real villain." She lowered her gun to her side. "I'd receive no pleasure from killing you." Gabriel let an uneasy breath at her confession. His relief was short lived as she raised her gun once more. "So I guess I'll just have to make do with you. Hell, maybe Sylar will emerge in the process, self-preservation in all."
Gabriel had no time to register the woman pull the trigger, aiming lower at the last second. The bullet lodged itself in his right thigh. The watchmaker let out a piercing scream as he dropped to the ground, clutching his bleeding leg, consumed by the blinding pain shouting through him. Her shadow fell over him. "Look at me," she commanded. Gabriel did as he was told. Her fist shot out and slammed into his jaw, his head snapping to the side. Several more blows followed before she spoke again. "That was for my father." She kicked him in the side, breaking a rib. Gabriel cried out. "That was for slicing my head open." She kneeled down in front of him. She grabbed his injured leg digging her nails deep within his wound. Hot tears streamed down Gabriel's cheeks. What had he done? More importantly, why was she so convinced that he was some sort of murderer?
"Please, god, please stop." He begged.
"And see how the mighty fall." She chuckled as she jammed her fingers in deeper, twisting for added measure. "You know all I ever wanted was to be normal, seems unfair that you get to be."
"And what else would I be?"
"Special," she sneered.
"Sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry for being a sick bastard? It doesn't work that way. You can't apologize for something you don't believe you ever did." She stood taking aim. Gabriel kicked out with his good leg, smashing into her knee. It gave with a terrible crunch as she crumpled backwards. With all his strength, Gabriel shakily got back up, limping to the door. Believing the girl to be incapacitated, his attention was diverted. He didn't manage to get far before the butt of the gun slammed into the back of his head. Black spots clouded his vision as the ground came up to meet him.
"No, you don't get to escape." She had turned him over and straddled his waist as she shook him violently. Gabriel's eyes fluttered, but the serenity of unconsciousness was beckoning him. She began punching his already bruised face, tears of her own flowing freely. Gabriel couldn't help noticing how beautiful this woman was with her perfect golden skin and those green eyes. She seemed familiar somehow, that he should know her. The more he tried to discern his extreme déjà vu the clearer it became. Memories exploded within his head, everything forgotten returned. He let his signature smirk spread as she pulled away slowly. "Sylar." It was not a question.
"Hello Claire. Miss me?"
"Never," she hissed attempting remove herself from Sylar's lap. He would have none of that. Sylar could feel the pleasant hum of his powers flowing within and he kept her pinned on top of him. "Then why does it tingle?" He reversed their positions, letting her feel the full weight of him. Claire's face was set in a tight grimace as she struggled beneath him. "You want to know what I think?" He didn't give her any time to reply. "I think you're lonely. Poor Claire Bennet just couldn't face the idea of spending forever alone."
"No," she barely whispered.
"Yes, otherwise you would be back at college with your girlfriend—Gretchen right?"
"I came here to kill you."
"And how'd that work out for you? Wait, don't tell me." He leaned in closer, his lips grazing her ear. "I already know." His lips began to caress the underside of her jaw.
"Get off me!"
"I would if I really believed that was what you wanted." Sylar let his mouth latch on to her neck as he grinded his hips into her. Claire let out a quiet moan. His lips meet hers and he couldn't help but notice her returning the kiss with greater passion. God he wanted her. His hands ripped her shirt, the materiel giving way easily.
"I hate you."
The familiar shiver ran up his spine and he couldn't help but smile. "Keep telling yourself that, we have forever."