OK, this is my first story on fanfiction in a LONG time, it was originally going to be a oneshot, but ended up A LOT longer then I expected, so it became a short story. Please R&R :D

Disclaimer: I do not own heroes D:


Idiot.

Did he really think that that she'd be fooled by the pathetic trail he'd left in his apartment? A train ticket. Like he'd really use a train. Like he'd forget the ticket. She knew him too well, a fact that at one point, would have made her gag, shudder, vomit. But now, she knew it was an asset. Her knowledge of him made it all the more easy to kill him. Not to mention the fact that there were no trains anymore, so he couldn't have taken one anyway. Never mind that little fact right now, she was musing on the way she would kill him tonight.

Or try at least. Sylar's ability to move the spot that could kill him made Claire's job a lot harder. Before she had known about the moving spot her plan had been simple, shoot him from a distance, then when he fell, shove a spike or whatever was available into the back of his head before he could heal and spit out the bullet. The only disadvantage with that plan had been her ability to aim a gun, which didn't exist. Or, it hadn't existed, sixty-odd years ago.

Fingering the gun holster attached to the belt of her jeans, Claire allowed a small smirk to spread across her face. She'd become quite the expert gunman in the past few years, she'd probably be able to beat her father. Adoptive one. Noah. No. Claire stopped that train of thoughts. She knew she couldn't think about him, especially not in the middle of a hunt. It would cause... emotional interference. Or something like that.

Claire's shoes made an odd combination of squishy and scraping noises as she crept through the alleyway. The squishy sounds were made from the water, she hadn't been paying attention when she walked out her door this morning, she'd been focusing on the plan forming in her mind, and she hadn't noticed the puddle in front of her. She was still trying to come up with a better excuse as to why they were wet for if Sylar asked. Not that she was going to give him a chance to ask; it was just an 'in case' plan. The scraping came from the old soles of her shoes sliding across the rough ground of the alley. It would have been hard to walk through the alley without making some sort of scraping sound, but Claire was pretty sure that the wetness of her shoes made it all the louder. So much for sneaking quietly.

Not that it mattered; Sylar would hear her coming from a mile away anyway. Stupid sonic hearing.

She was nearing the end of the alley, it was slowly becoming possible to read the many obnoxious billboards and signs that decorated the New York street. Not that she was paying attention to any of those, nor to the cars speeding in either direction. She was instead staring intently at a Chinese restaurant directly across the street. That's where he'd be.

Claire liked to think that the tables had turned. Now she was the hunter, and he was the prey.

Of course, her hunting was a bit more difficult. When he had hunted her, she'd been young. Innocent. Stuck around in the same place for quite some time. He on the other hand, well, Claire had to chase him through the streets of New York, day after day after day. She knew each street like the back of her own hand by now, knew where there was traffic, where there would likely be an accident, where the best hiding places were. The only problem was, Sylar knew the city just as well.

So Claire hadn't had a hard time finding the restaurant, the one Sylar had called just last night (Claire had a friend. He could tap Sylar's phone from his bedroom, he could tell her who he called. She was pretty sure he wouldn't do it if he wasn't certain she couldn't kill him, though she didn't understand why Micah still after all these years felt he owed Sylar. She also didn't like that he doubted her ability to kill) to ask about the menu (once Micah told her who Sylar called, Claire called the restaurant herself), asking whether they had Kung Pao Beef on the menu. Her favourite dish. Curse him for knowing that.

They did, it turned out, and that was all Claire needed to push her in the direction of the restaurant. It wouldn't be a coincidence; Sylar always left two trails for her. One that was hidden and one that was in the open, like the train ticket had been. The second trail was harder, but not impossible to find. Claire was in stubborn denial that it was her superb hunting skills that allowed her to find the trail, and not, as Sylar often vocalized, him playing along to her 'silly little hobby'. It was not a hobby. Claire would sooner admit to an obsession then a hobby. Hobby implied she enjoyed it, she did not enjoy the amount of time she had had to spend stalking the ex killer, learning everything about him, chasing him, and conversing with him. Stupid Sylar didn't know how to die silently.

Stepping out into the sun, Claire wished Sylar would pick somewhere less public. The general population of the world were far from adjusted to the idea of super powered humans walking the streets. The secret had come out a few decades ago, shortly before Angela Petrelli's death. Despite the knowledge of the powers, most people were unnerved seeing powers preformed in public, and Claire doubted anyone would be pleased if they saw her shoot Sylar's left leg (it was her latest guess as to where he'd hidden the spot) in the middle of a crowded street. No, she'd have to at very least drag him out the back of the restaurant.

Claire frowned as she stepped into the street, not bothering to look both ways or to even glance for oncoming traffic, they couldn't hurt her, she could be reckless; even if she shot Sylar in the back alley the sound of the gunshot would easily be heard in the restaurant, on the street.

No, the alley would not be a good place to shoot. Then where...?

Claire stepped onto the curb on the other side of the street, unscathed. Many angry drivers sent rude words and gestures her way, but she ignored them, plotting silently. She'd just have to lure him out of the restaurant... and, down the street. There was... an abandoned lot, a few blocks over, if she were lucky, then maybe she'd get him down there. Only to avoid a scene, she was willing to kill him anywhere really.

The door to the restaurant opened with a small chime of bells. Claire didn't need to look up to know that there were bells positioned above the door, so that the restaurant workers would know when someone entered. The restaurant was warm, not that it had been cold outside, maybe slightly cool from the rain last night, but this restaurant made the temperature outside seem cooler.

The restaurant seemed to be nothing more than one wide room, with table on either side of an aisle that led directly from the door to the back wall of the restaurant, where a bathroom sign hung. The room was painted a warm orange colour, and there were paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The atmosphere was warm, calming, it was almost making Claire sleepy. Almost. There were only a few people sitting, not much chatter, so the restaurant was rather quiet. That made sense, as it was about 1 in the afternoon, so the lunch rush would be over.

"Table for one?" A cheerful voice asked her, and Claire turned to see a young Chinese girl, probably about sixteen, holding a menu and smiling at her in anticipation. Of course, after years of being around humans, learning to spot lies, Claire could easily see the smile was forced, that there was no real happiness behind it, and the girl was just doing her job. Not that that surprised her.

"Actually," Claire began in a pleasant tone, "I'm looking for a friend of mine." The waitress seemed slightly surprised by this, but she nodded, and Claire continued before she could say anything, "Tall, dark," She didn't say handsome. That wasn't... the right word to describe Sylar. Maybe it could describe Gabriel Gray, at one point, but not the stone cold killer that Claire knew. Even if he claimed not to have killed anyone in over a year. Like that mattered.

"Are you Claire?" The girl asked, unexpectedly.