Working on this (my second story) for awhile. I started to miss Gabriel and decided to bring him back without compromising my other plot.

Enjoy and review please; I'd like to know how this one is being received. If someone likes it, I'll write more.

Claire Bennet waited anxiously in the library at Stanford. Her first week as a college student had not gone so swimmingly as she had hoped. Sure she had made the cheerleading squad, and the red color of the uniform complimented her just as well as the one she wore at Costa Verde High had, but things were different now.

No longer did the poor excuse for athletics serve to gain her a place of comfort and belonging among her peers. Claire had never been considered an unintelligent sort of girl by anyone who actually knew her, but her choices in extracurricular activities certainly did nothing to fight against the typical dumb blonde cheerleader stereotype.

As it so happened, Claire was already having family troubles. Her biological grandmother and father were pushing her to study art in Paris. "A suiting major and career choice for a beautiful young woman," they had told her. Clearly they didn't know her as well as they thought they did; art was the last thing on her mind.

Still Claire wanted to stay close to home in Costa Verde. She wasn't fond of the idea of leaving the family that she had grown up with behind to travel abroad. Claire grew out of the wanting to "get away" stage at a younger age than most.

Claire's adoptive father worked for the government, and since she was a child it had been perfectly clear to her that she was made out of exactly the right material to work for the CIA. It was Claire's dream for herself.

Even with her well-bred connections through both her adoptive and biological parents, college was a necessary prerequisite to any goal she desired to reach, and she'd be damned before she joined the military as was alternately suggested to her, or God forbid even went on to raise championship show dogs like her adoptive mother Sandra Bennet.

No, Claire was cut out for much more than that. Unfortunately the pressures of college proved to be much more tiresome than she had hoped, and already she was beginning to fall behind with her load of coursework.

So Claire had decided to heed her father's advice and take advantage of the on-campus tutoring Stanford offered to its students. After all, Claire wasn't exactly abject to meeting new people; maybe her tutor would even be a total babe; she hoped for the best.

Claire whipped her pocket watch out yet again and checked the time; her tutor should be there within ten minutes, though she expected to give him at least a fifteen minute window. She lacked the cheerleader attitude that should have came with the uniform; unlike most nineteen year old girls, Claire Bennet was not under the impression that the world revolved around her; far from it.

Claire looked around for something to do while she waited for her tutor to make his appearance. Unfortunately for time-management, she found her books to be laid out in front of her in a neat stack next to a row of already perfectly sharpened pencils. Claire didn't fully trust herself to be exactly on time just yet. If she were to try such a thing, surely she would be late. So she made it a habit to be early; it was boring, but it worked for her.

She huffed slightly and sat back in her chair; resigning to admire her grandfather's pocket watch as she sat and waited patiently. She was very fond of the watch; her father had given it to her the day he told her she was adopted. On that day she found out that she was the illegitimate daughter of Senator Nathan Petrelli and a woman quite like herself; her mother Meredith whom he had met in his earlier days.

Claire was a young little thing at the time, but out of the box of belongings she had received upon the discovery; it was the watch that had stood out the most to her. The worn design on the back of the trinket was faded with age, but still held the memory of the man who had made it back in the 1800's. According to the face, Sylar was the name of its maker.

As she dangled the watch from its gold chain, Claire mused about how well-loved it must have been. Meredith had kept it on her person at all times as she traveled across Europe. Claire had even heard that she had her own circus act at a time; she supposed that's where her strange antics came from.

Freak Claire… too smart for cheerleading, and too wealthy and blonde for anything else. Her place in life really revealed what was important to most people, and all she had was time; it never seemed to pass quickly. Claire was about to put the watch away out of frustration when she felt a presence behind her.

"That's a beautiful watch you have there," a man's honey-filled voice drew out behind her. Claire's heart skipped a beat at the sound. "May I see it for a moment?" he asked her. Claire frowned then and turned toward the source of the question. A tall and lank-bodied man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a considerably gauche sweater stood behind her. Upon taking in his appearance, and finding him to be lacking in her eyes; Claire immediately chastised herself for being so vain. If his shy smile was anything to go by, he seemed like a pretty good guy. "You seem really nice," she told him, "It's just that I don't know you…" she left off as he finished the sentence for her.

"And that watch is very valuable to you," his smile faded slightly in disappointment as he sat down across from her. "It's ok, if I were you," he placed an odd amount of emphasis on that last word before continuing, "I probably wouldn't have given it to me either." He placed his books down on the table in front of him as he began to diffidently explain his interest. "I collect and restore timepieces," he said, and then looked at her with earnest eyes that didn't match the tone of his voice, "I can fix it for you," he told her.

Claire frowned, feeling slightly offended that he had assumed her watch would not work properly; that she was using it just for show. Her appearance probably did little to dissuade him from his hastily reached conclusion.

"My watch isn't broken," she regarded him defensively.

"Oh but it is," her new table buddy objected. "Not tragically, its running two seconds fast," he added with a sweet smile that reached his eyes this time.

"Maybe I'll ask you to fix it another time," she returned the smile to him; feeling slightly ashamed that she had in fact, been the one jumping to conclusions. "How did you know?" she asked him curiously.

"Just a talent I have," he gained a far away look, "for the way things work." Having lost his attention for the moment, Claire glanced around her, checking for signs of the tutor she was supposed to be meeting.

"Hey," she spoke softly, "I'm really sorry, but I'm supposed to be meeting someone here very soon."

"And you need me to get out of his seat," he finished for her with a half sad, have angry expression; obviously he had assumed she was just trying to get rid of him. After all, he wasn't exactly the best of company; though he certainly wouldn't say he was the worst.

"Don't worry about it," he told her gravely; honestly it did nothing to relieve her guilt. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here too; tutoring them actually." His voice was cold as he gathered his things and started to stand. Something occurred to Claire though.

"Wait, your name isn't Gabriel is it?" she asked him warily.

"Yes," he looked at her as he spoke the single word with a guarded expression, as if to wordlessly tell her that she had no business knowing his name since he hadn't told it to her. Claire tried to lighten the mood and gave him her best smile; following up with a clever line.

"Well it looks like you're in the right place after all," she explained her question vaguely. "I'm Claire Bennet; your tutee."

"Ah," Gabriel put his things down for the second time in the same exact place, looking for all the world as if he couldn't be more inconvenienced. Regardless he continued to walk around the table. "Well Claire," he almost sneered, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," and held out a deceptively strong hand for her to shake, she cagily returned the hand shake but remained ready to make a hasty escape; he did not seem at all pleased to meet her. "Gabriel Gray," the harshly given name drew her away from her observation as she flinched; he didn't seem to notice.

Claire grew a little paler as she watched him clean the offered appendage with a sanitary wipe and retreated to the other side of the table to take a seat. "So what do you want to work on Claire?" he looked at her indifferently, clearly still offended at how she had asked him to leave.

"I um… don't really know how these things go," she admitted, "freshman and all."

"Right," it donned on him as he mentally acknowledged his error; the poor guy looked ready to beat himself up if she asked it of him; an obvious perfectionist. "Well usually we start by introducing ourselves, but seeing as we've already done that; why don't you tell me what classes you are taking this term?"

"Oh right, um… "Dramatic Lit, Poetry, Calculus, Spanish II, General Chem, and General Biology."

"Science courses huh?" He gave her a doubtful look which she was offended by.

"Hey…" she started, "aren't you supposed to be nice to me," she questioned in a teasing voice. Claire was still desperately trying to salvage the situation she found herself in.

"Sorry," he replied unapologetically, "I just would never have pegged you for a science kind of girl," he was being honest, and Claire was willing to give him a little bit of credit for that. "So I'm assuming that's what you need help with the most," he assumed as he sat back in his chair and stretched out his arms. Gabriel then removed a thick stack of science journals from his bag.

Claire couldn't believe the gall of this guy; she'd never met anyone so rude, and judging by the casual way with which he carried on, he clearly wasn't even aware of his atrociously bad manners. Claire didn't bother correcting him as he continued to set up a workspace for himself; she'd make him put it all away later anyway.

"So," Gabriel sighed as he nonchalantly went about his business, "any idea of what you want to be when you grow up Claire?" She instantly recognized the hit he was taking on her, and came back swinging with a crude retort to make him uncomfortable.

"I am grown up Gabriel… very grown up," she adjusted her top and leaned back a little for show, "and that's a complicated question for me," she added. Gabriel blanched at her display; either unappreciative of her efforts, or too prude to reveal his true reaction.

"How so?" he asked suspiciously; underestimating Claire's complexity.

"Well actually, I want to be a geneticist," she explained, "But… seeing as it's not really an established field yet, I'll probably end up working for the government like my dad… well dads."

"I see…" he dropped off, and his eyes glazed over a bit. Claire decided that after he had run out of things to talk about, this man had some minor social problems. It wouldn't have surprised her to learn that he had memorized the opening of their conversation as part of a well-prepared speech; even then, it was poorly delivered.

"So what do you think you need to work on?" he asked awkwardly between clearing his throat.

"Honestly?" she asked him.

"Obviously."

Claire cringed at the tone he used; her question word was obviously rhetorical, this guy must have learned how to speak English from a text book. She had started to get the feeling that he was somewhat annoyed by her to say the very least. 'Can you saay mood swings?' she asked herself mentally.

"Alright then. English," she finally answered.

"Good. We'll start there." He didn't look like he thought that was good at all as he snapped her textbook open and a loose sheet of paper fell out onto the table. "Is this the assignment?" he asked her impatiently. Claire hoped it was just her, but he seemed in a hurry to get out of there as soon as humanly possible.

The rest of the hour proceeded to drag on as they continued their awkward and noticeably strained verbal exchanges. He did help, that she had to admit, and she was grateful for that, but when their time was up; he hardly bade her farewell. Gabriel merely helped her gather her things and swept off; leaving her with only a better understanding of The Canterbury Tales, and the date and time of the next tutoring session he would be available for.

When Claire got back to her dorm room that night, she was grateful that she had not yet been placed with a roommate, because all she wanted to do was break down and cry; and so she did. Several questions ran through her head at once, not the least of them being, 'what is so repulsive about me?' Claire got up to fix her makeup in the mirror and choked back a heavy sob as she looked upon her reflection's red and puffy eyes. Through her tears she had somehow managed to dress herself well enough for dinner with her father Noah; she had hoped he would have some kind words for her as she snatched up her purse and exited the small room.

Claire was grateful to find her dad waiting for her at their usual table when she arrived at the Indian restaurant they frequented. She didn't want to have more alone time to mull over the events that had taken place during her day. Her father was always prompt when it came to their meetings, and she appreciated the security in that.

"Hey Claire-bear," he got up from his seat and gave her a warm hug; it was a much more intimate and comfortable version of what Gabriel had done when he introduced himself. Claire blocked the intruding thought from her mind before it could grow any more elaborate; she would not let her night be ruined him of all people. Gabriel Gray was a man who was neither attractive nor socially adept; he was flat out rude. Though honestly, his behavior shouldn't have mattered to her as much as it seemed to.

"So Claire, tell your dad," her father interrupted her thoughts. "How was school?" Claire put on the usual act that all children were supposed to utilize when they needed to dodge further questioning from their parents.

"Oh you know... It was ok. It was school." She gave him her best fake smile. They both knew she couldn't fool Noah Bennet, but as her dad; he knew when and when not to ask her more about things. For now he spared Claire the pain of sharing the gory details and said nothing more about it.

"So dad, tell your Claire," she quipped in her peppiest voice the moment would allow her to summon, "how was work?" Noah humored his daughter.

"Oh you know... it was ok, it was work."

"Aaand?" she pushed him to continue. Anything was better than being quiet and alone with her thoughts for the evening.

"Aaand it's top secret kiddo, full of secret stuff that I'll tell you about when you're older," he joked with her and gave her a wink. Claire and her father were both aware that his comment was not entirely in good humor though; it had implications like most things in life. Claire's father fully expected her to follow in his footsteps doing whatever it was that he did. He seemed truly happy with his life though, with his family, and his coworkers.

Claire pictured herself in a well-fitted suit and horn-rimmed glasses just like the ones she had picked out for her dad when she was a kid. He had worn the same frames ever since; she was really fond of them actually. Those glasses made him look like her dad. That is what she told him when he first tried them on; not a dad, but her dad; she had decided.

Claire picked at her Baingan Bhartha unaware of her father's watchful gaze until he spoke. Do you want to talk about it honey?" he asked her. Claire gave him her most convincing innocent and questioning look in return, but after a few seconds of his resolved stare; the facade crumbled and her face sunk into a frown.

"You can come home anytime you like Claire... if you aren't read."

"No school's fine," she informed him hollowly.

"What is it then?" he inquired.

"Well..."

"Is it a boy?" he asked knowingly.

"Yeah." Claire exhaled loudly.

"I knew it; tell me all about him," Noah looked at her earnestly; excited to hear about the new development in his daughter's life. Noah really was a good father when he wasn't working; it was just a pity for his family that such didn't happen more often.

"Not in that way," Claire started, but then reconsidered her statement. "My tutor... I can't shake the feeling that he kind of... hates me?" She turned the end of her sentence into a question; hoping her father had any kind of answer for her.

"I'm sure that's not it Claire," her father gave her a reproving look as he tried to cheer her up, "everybody likes you. You're beautiful, and smart, and you're the nicest girl I know," he told her with a smile. "Best of all; you're Claire."

"Thanks dad," her returned smile quickly faded, she couldn't shake the sick feeling in her stomach. "But dad... you didn't see the way he looked at me," she insisted.

"I trust your instincts Claire, but you have to consider the possibility that maybe he was just shy, or even intimidated by you." Claire didn't think it very likely that Gabriel would be intimidated by her. He seemed awfully self-assured, but her dad might have been right; maybe he was just shy.

"Yeah," Claire chose an escape from the conversation topic, "are we really talking boys?" she teased.

"Not if you aren't interested in him, "Noah grinned at his daughter, "which you told me you most certainly were not." Her father's way of cleverly mocking her did wonders to cheer her up as usual.

"Thanks," she told him; feeling a little better about herself for the time being. Claire had settled it; she wouldn't let this man bother her. She was going to learn all she could from him, and then forget all about Gabriel Gray.

A few days after her first tutoring session, Claire arrived at the Stanford library for another one; at the same exact place and time. Gabriel Gray must be a creature of habit; she decided, and wondered if the insight would be of any assistance to her later. She was surprised however to see that Gabriel was waiting for her with a crestfallen expression; his face barely visible through the thick fall of hair that hung forward loosely. Claire instantly became concerned, despite his obvious distaste for her. Regardless she strolled up to him at once and placed a hand on the table near his, not touching it though, she remembered the way he had reacted last time they had made physical contact, and it had yet to stop making her feel awful. Still her inherent kindness showed through as she inquired about him, "Gabriel, are you ok?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he replied gruffly without raising his head. He withdrew his hands and pulled them into his lap. Claire could have sworn she heard his voice break as he made a weak attempt to convince her he was fine.

"You can talk to me about it," she told him gently, and leaned over the table so that their faces were level.

"What would you know about it?" he spat angrily. Claire drew back a little bit, but remained relentless in her quest to help him open up.

Claire had always cared for everyone. It's probably how she was able to tolerate her high school best friend Jackie. Claire was one of the few people who had cried at her funeral; the poor girl had been murdered at homecoming, right in front of Claire's eyes. She knew a little something about pain if she was being completely forthcoming. Claire still woke up in cold sweats with the memory of that night. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder the doctors had called it.

"More than you would think," she finally replied a little brokenly. Gabriel actually looked up at that; his eyes were red from crying and he wasn't as put together as he had been the last time they had met. Still he saw something in Claire's eyes at that moment, and it helped him to accept her being there.

Claire maternally removed his glasses for him and wiped them clean on the corner of her blouse. Gabriel didn't object to her assistance this time as he stressedly ran his hands through his dark locks; further ruffling the untidy mess of hair. Claire handed back his glasses as he opened his mouth to speak.

"It's my mother," Gabriel explained, "she was attacked this morning in her apartment."

"Is she..." Claire left off, not knowing if she was prying too much.

"No," he replied in a horrified voice as he shook his head with derision, "but she might..." his own voice failed him. "She's in critical condition right now. They have her on life support." Fresh tears started to gather in his eyes at that last statement.

"Oh Gabriel," Claire fought back the urge to embrace him; sure that he would not appreciate the gesture. "I'm so sorry," she told him.

"No, I'm sorry Claire... I don't mean to drag you into this. I hardly even know you." Claire grew confused at that statement. Gabriel folded into himself as if she were going to hit him; he prepared to ask her something, "Will you come with me to the hospital?" When Claire didn't respond immediately, he looked at her hopefully, and the expression nearly broke her heart. Claire was hesitant though, and the breath caught in her throat. "Please Claire..." he tried again, "I just can't be alone right now, and I don't really have anyone else to ask." It occurred to her that he probably didn't have many friends; he was the sort of person who wouldn't even know why people didn't like him.

"Of course I will Gabriel," she obliged, "it looks like I have an open night anyway."

"Thank you," he told her, and for the first time he looked as though he actually meant what he said.

Tbc.