Another product of my writers block. Whenever I'm stuck I put my ipod on random and have to write a story that is based on the first song that plays. The First song that came on was an Australian Country song called "Don't Chase me." by Shea Fisher. It's a ridiculously girly song which starts off with a Cheerleaders medley which immediately made me think of Claire and the main chorus line is "Don't chase me if you're not ready to catch me." and it made me think. What with Sylar forever chasing Claire what would he actually do if she let herself be caught? and why would she. Here is the product of this frankly awful cheesy song. Enjoy.

The thrill in the chase.

Sylar licked his lips and tried to hide the puzzled look on his face.

"What?" Claire planted one hand on her hip and gave him her best sassy smirk. It was one perfected by cheerleaders everywhere. It screamed "You can look all you want, boy, but we both know I am way out of your league. " it was one Sylar knew from his own childhood days and it never ceased to infuriate him.

He stiffened and raised his hand threateningly. It didn't do its job as Claire just rolled her eyes.

Sylar gritted his teeth.

"This is usually the part where people start screaming."

"I'm not people, I'm hardly even human and I am so not scared of you."

Sylar frowned momentarily at her off-hand answer. Did she really think that she was barely human? Then the rest of her answer caught up. She wasn't scared of him, really?

"Really?"

"I don't feel pain, you already have my power and my family is a million miles away. You can't hurt me, Sylar, and frankly I'm getting a little tired of this. You've been chasing me around for months, it's getting old and I am sick of running."

"So you're giving in?" A smile tilted his lips. He knew it. Finally he could make her his. He could take that sweet pliable cheerleader and form her into his own princess of darkness.

Or something less cheesy sounding.

"Giving in?" To his surprise, Claire burst out laughing. She threw her head back and her blonde curls danced against her shaking shoulders as she giggled hysterically.

Okay, this really wasn't going the way he planned.

He folded his arms defensively.

"Claire?"

"No, sweetie," Claire finally managed, "I'm not giving in. I've decided to let you catch me. Now what are you going to do with me?"

What? His frown increased. "Excuse me?"

She licked her lower lip and prowled towards him, her hips swaying with every step. "I said, you can catch me, Sylar. You've been after me since I was sixteen," she pursed her lips, "naughty you, slice my head, take my power, hurt my family, be my family, whatever."

Her voice got lower as the gap closed between them and Sylar's eyebrows rose higher and higher at her sultry tone.

She stood in front of him, her voice all but a purr. "I'm not sixteen any more, Sylar. I'm a woman."

Her tone shot straight to his groin and he found himself salivating. "I can see that."

She was a woman, all woman. Lush curves and sensual confidence and he wanted her so badly. It also seemed that she wanted him too and all he had to do was reach out and take her.

He raised his hands to touch only to have her dance back.

"No."

"No?"

The purr was gone and suddenly a strong, strident businesswoman took the place of the cheerleader.

"Maybe you haven't met me, I'm Claire Bennett. I get what I want. Always. I'm also part Petrelli and, as far as I know, they always get what they want too." Her eyes narrowed. "I've decided that I want you."

He leered down at her. "You can have me."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"But not like this," she waved a hand over his general outfit.

"Excuse me?" Sylar was wrong footed and his head was clouded by lust. What was wrong with the way he looked? He glanced down at his black on black ensemble and back up at Claire.

"I want a boyfriend I can take home to meet the folks, not one who has blood under his fingernails. You need to stop skulking in the dark and learn some social cues. It wouldn't kill you to learn how to dance, for example, or cook."

"I can cook," he said bemusedly.

"Good." Claire nodded and flicked a glance over him. "You need to get a job or find some way of making money because I'm not having some deadbeat as a boyfriend."

Really lost and trying not to show it, Sylar dipped in his pocket for some paper, held up a hand and turned his bus ticket into gold.

Claire's eyebrows rose. "Useful. Hobbies?"

"Death and dismemberment count?"

"No."

"Collecting abilities."

"No."

"Clock making?"

She winced. "Boring, but fine. You dress fine when you're not covered in brains so that's okay and you are kind of easy on the eyes." She cast another look up and down. "I guess you'll do for now." Claire folded her arms. "First you take me out to dinner and then we talk about how this is going to work."

This really wasn't how he had planned things and Sylar wasn't entirely sure how they had gone wrong so very quickly. He'd just intended to find Claire, listen to her scream and try to convince her that they belonged together.

The actual being together part had been quite vague.

Until now.

Sylar finally found his voice and stepped back. "Uh, Claire. This is all moving very quickly. I mean what on earth makes you think I'm gonna be your boyfriend? Ignoring for the moment that I am not a boy." He smirked, glad to have control of the conversation back.

That's right, get her on the defensive. Make her the vulnerable one.

Claire gave him a lopsided grin. "What on earth makes you think you have a choice, boy? Far as I can see you were the one always banging on about how alike we are. Guess what? I agree."

"That doesn't mean we should have a relationship."

Was he trying to talk her out of this? Wasn't this what he wanted? Wasn't she supposed to be the voice of reason, making excuses as to why they shouldn't be together. Had all of his chasing finally driven her to the blink?

"You killed two of my parents and raped my head, sorry, honey, but we already have a relationship. It's warped and twisted but there it is."

Sylar backed away and held his hands up. Convinced now that he'd somehow made Claire crazy. "Think about this, Claire, I would make a terrible boyfriend. Your parents already hate me, I have tried to kill your father many, many times. I killed your cheerleader friend. I've attacked pretty much everyone you know. I manipulate and lie and steal powers and... oh yeah, I kill people."

Claire shrugged. "Everyone has baggage. You've failed to kill my dad many, many times which kinda panders to his ego. Mom will come around if I'm happy and I will be happy," the glare she shot him send shivers to his toes. "You're devoted bordering on obsessive. That means you won't cheat. You're committed once you've chosen a course of action which means that if you put your mind to it this relationship will work. You can feel pain so if you do try to hurt me in any way I can make you regret it, over and over and over. You like kids. You're hot and... oh yeah, you're gonna live forever like me. You said we'd be building bridges. I've built it, I've crossed it and now we're gonna live on it." She smiled serenely. "This is gonna happen, Sylar, deal with it."

He opened and closed his mouth trying to come up with someway of refuting anything that she just said.

"I could run?" His voice was hesitant to his own ears, lacking any sort of conviction.

Claire cocked her head and gave him a pitying look. "Oh, you can try. I have forever to find you and I will. I won't tire, I won't die and I won't give up. You belong to me now. It's your own fault, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"How is this my fault?" he said incredulously.

"The moral is don't chase me, unless you're ready to catch me."

He sagged, acknowledging the truth of her words. Well, fine. This wasn't what he had in mind, hadn't even been on the cards but it seemed he had little choice and would have to make the most of things.

"Fine. Dinner?"

"Yes, please." She beamed broadly and pointed to the door.

Wondering exactly how he'd got himself into this mess Sylar found himself opening the door for her and leaning forward to sniff her hair as she passed. She smelled just like she always did, of honey and apples. A smile drifted over his face. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He had been chasing her for a long time.

He just wished he knew what it was he'd caught.