Laundry Day
Summary: Claire goes to Peter's apartment one day to do her laundry and runs into Sylar.
Mr. Gray's clairsentience accidentally kicks in when he touches Claire's bedspread causing him to see some very interesting things…
This takes place about two years after the events of a "Brave New World".
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Mr. Kring and NBC. This story was written for the sole purpose to entertain and amuse my loyal readers.
A/N: Don't worry, I'm still writing the next chapter to "Death Becomes Her". Consider this one a detour of sorts. This story will probably only be two or three chapters long, I haven't decided yet.
Anyway the genesis of this short fic sprung forth from an email I sent to JaimiePrufrock, to whom I dedicate this story. We were discussing what the psychological impact of Sylar's clairsentience would be on his life.
We all know that this power enables Gabriel to pick up the echoes of other people's experiences, good and bad. And it's in those visions of the past that he sees everything he wishes he could have: family, happiness and love.
As he garners the hidden truths from Claire's belongings, will he finally make that all important human connection? Stay tuned to find out…
Chapter One
SoHo- New York City, New York – June 7, 2012
Today was Thursday and on Thursday's Claire Bennet did her laundry at her uncle's place. It wasn't that she didn't have access to the washing facilities on campus or that rundown launderette around the corner of her apartment on 5th and Washington. She rather liked the regular routine she had fallen into of washing her unmentionables at Peter's- even if it entailed trudging her dirty clothes clear across town every week on the city bus.
Nevertheless, by adhering to this little ritual she had managed to kill two birds with one stone. Not only did Claire save some money by not pouring coins into a pay slot, she also got to spend quality time with the only relative she seemed to be getting along with these days.
The only downside to this of course was that she also had to deal with Peter's live-in charity case- the allegedly reformed serial killer known as Gabriel "Sylar" Gray. Aside from ex-watchmaker's unwelcomed presence things between her and her youthful uncle were great.
On the other side of the spectrum however, she and her dad weren't on any speaking terms whatsoever. Claire had written the elder Bennet off a long time ago for his complicit role in making her look like a total fraud in the eyes of the world.
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Two years ago…
The night she took her big plunge in Central Park Claire knew that Noah would be less than thrilled with her "coming out" party. And as she stood atop the giant Ferris wheel, she could sense how her dad's watery blue gaze was fixed on her that fateful moment. His steely eyes judged her, begged her not do what she felt needed to be done.
But Claire was resolved to carry out her mission and with that she stepped off the platform falling 197 feet to what would have been a certain death if she didn't possess the ability to heal. After she rose to her feet, her power freshly exposed, she could just make her dad out in the crowd that had gathered around her. The bitter disappointment was evident in his eyes as he watched his life's work get shot to hell by Claire's brazen act.
Noah was indeed devastated by what he perceived to be the ultimate betrayal by his only daughter.
Incensed beyond measure the former Company Man rushed up to Claire and said, "You have no idea what you've done!"
"Yes I do, Dad! I'm sick of hiding and it's time the world knew the truth."
Sorrowfully, Noah Bennet he shook his head as he warned his child how her defiance would cost her dearly. Still, the dutiful father left in him tried his best to keep the story contained. But as the reporters desperately clamored to get her account, sadly for Noah the situation had quickly gotten out of his control.
Thankfully, Peter was on hand and he was able to get Claire out of harm's way while Noah tried his best to dissuade the news crews from harassing his daughter any further.
Yet, by the time the media had dispersed and the curious onlookers left the ruins of the Carnival behind, Noah's greatest fears were already realized when the damning video from someone's camera-phone went viral.
And Claire Bennet became an overnight sensation whether her father liked it or not.
At first, the young college student found the sudden attention daunting yet exhilarating. Claire felt it was the dawn of a new age, a brave new world where all people could be free to be themselves without fear or recriminations. The press had quickly touted her as the leader and staunch defender of the rights of others like her. And Claire vowed to do all she could to live up to the responsibilities suddenly thrust upon her tiny shoulders.
To her dad though, her celebrity status symbolized the beginning of the end. Every time he saw her name in print or her larger-than-life image splashed across a plasma screen it poured salt into an already gaping wound.
There was no way to put the genie back in the bottle…or was there?
Meanwhile, Claire foolishly underestimated her dad in her naïve exuberance. Noah's reputation for being the Man with the Plan should have served as a forewarning of what he was truly capable of. However, daughterly love and misplaced trust clouded her judgment.
How could she have been so stupid, so blind?
She should have known how well he hid his duplicity behind every fatherly smile. His words of encouragement, those heartwarming pep-talks in the days that followed her Great Revelation were all well-crafted deceptions designed to lull Claire into a false sense of security. All the while Noah bided his time as he plotted and schemed to destroy her.
And like a lamb to the slaughter, Claire never saw the end of her newborn normalcy approaching until it was too late.
Nearly three weeks after the events in Central Park she received a call from Peter that immediately turned her entire existence upside-down.
"Hey, Claire you'd better turn on the television," he gravely instructed her.
"Why?" she innocently asked as she rushed around her dorm room trying to get ready for her next class.
"Because the villagers are coming for you with their torches and pitchforks, kid."
Confused by the Frankenstein reference, Claire still did as she was told. Quickly she grabbed the remote off her desk to switch on the 19" flat screen she received as a Christmas present last year. It was one of the last things Nathan had given her before he was brutally murdered.
Still holding the phone to her ear, Claire furrowed her brow as she began to watch what appeared to be a special news bulletin. It only took a few seconds to see her image and name flash across the screen with a caption in big bold red letters that read "HOAX". Seeing that accusatory label chilled her to the bone. With gripping fear, Claire continued to watch as a female news anchor made the following announcement –
"For those of you just turning in…Claire Bennet, the young woman known to the world as the Invincible Girl, the self-appointed spokesman for so-called specials has been proven to be nothing but a fraud…"
"WHAT?" she yelled into the phone as her blood turned to ice. Panic had set in as Claire almost fainted over what she just heard.
"Wait," Peter calmly replied. "It gets worse."
The anchor continued with her derogatory broadcast, oblivious to Claire's anger or fear.
"We have just learned that a young filmmaker by the name of Zachary Dekker has just come forward.
Not only is he the owner of a small independent film company named FILMSBYZACH, he also attended high school with Ms. Bennet and has remained a close personal friend."
"Peter, oh my God! That's a lie! I haven't seen Zach since I left Odessa!" Claire professed.
Her concerned uncle mirrored her sentiments in his tone, "I know, Claire. I'm so sorry. Listen, I'm sending someone right now to get you out of there before the angry mob shows up."
No one had to tell her who that "someone" was. Claire was fully aware that Sylar was on his way, flying at super sonic speed to whisk her to safety. Under normal circumstances she would have balked at the idea of Sylar being cast in the role of her would-be rescuer. But she knew she was in deep shit, and now wasn't the time to be choosey.
As she waited for Sylar to show up, Claire continued to watch the horror show unfolding on her television screen with mounting dread.
"Mr. Dekker joins us now live via satellite from Odessa, Texas to tell us how he assisted Claire Bennet in producing the now infamous 'fall' video by employing the very same special effects techniques used in many of his movies."
That was it. She couldn't listen to another word. And as she ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of her breakfast for the very first time in her life, two things became certain:
One- her father had gotten to Zach somehow and brainwashed him to lie.
And two – she would never, ever speak to Noah Bennet again as long as she lived.
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Discredited and defamed, Claire ended up right where she started – almost.
Because of her fall from grace, anonymity had become a dire necessity. So she dyed her blond locks red, dropped out of Arlington U and hightailed to New York hoping to get lost amongst the multi-cultural throng.
The Petrelli matriarch, Claire later learned, had also had a hand in her granddaughter's downfall. So naturally she cut all ties with Angela, refusing her grandmother's money and her offers of support. Besides, Claire figured that if this was the hand she'd been dealt, then she was determined make it on her own steam. After all, she wasn't penniless or anything. Thanks to the generous bequeathal from Nathan's estate, she had enough money to pay for her education and then some.
As for her other relations, Claire made sure to keep in touch with her mother from time to time via untraceable and disposable pre-paid cell phones. But these days Sandra was busy settling into married life with her new husband, a nice but oddly quiet man that owned a chain of mega pet supply outlets. Thankfully, the former Mrs. Bennet had had the good sense not get hitched with that weirdo, Doug.
Sadly, Claire's younger brother Lyle had enlisted in the army shortly after graduation and was immediately deployed to Afghanistan where he was killed by friendly fire.
And in the case of her adopted father, the only thing Claire asked of the man that raised her was a new identity. It took some arm twisting but once he gave her what she asked for, Claire instructed him never to contact her again. When he begrudgingly agreed to her terms, she walked out of his apartment and his life forever.
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Present day…
Now, as Clarisse Peterson, the former Texas cheerleader received a new lease on life. Her falsified but authentic looking identification documents enabled her to quietly enroll at Columbia, where she was now in her second year working toward a degree in criminal psychology. Claire had also procured a job as part-time receptionist in a pediatrician's office and even bagged herself a half-way decent apartment near Washington Square.
Ironically by hiding in plain sight she was able to live a relatively normal existence - even if she was told from time to time that she looked a little like "that crazy Claire girl."
Nevertheless, she attended school, got pretty decent grades and even managed to make a quasi-friend or two. No one was allowed to get too close though out of fear that her ability or identity could be discovered. And under no circumstances did she date…anyone.
In fact the last serious relationship she had been in was with Gretchen Berg when she was still at Arlington. And even after the shit had hit the fan with that whole hoax business they tried keep their relationship going. Gretchen had been wonderful at first, she was so supportive of Claire and the decisions she had made about her life. But after months of going through the hardships of a long distance relationship, coupled by the awkward hit and misses in the sexual department, it had become abundantly clear to both girls that Claire's orientation was firmly planted in the hetero camp.
Gretchen had taken mercy on Claire by letting her down gently. Surprisingly, the breakup had come as a great relief to Claire since she always knew deep down that she and Gretch made better friends than lovers. And fortunately for Gretchen, a few weeks later she met a visual arts major named Michele. And as far as Claire knew the two women were still happily together.
After finding herself newly single once more, Claire had tried for a time to go out with members of the opposite sex after she arrived in New York. It took some tough months of kissing frogs before she met what she thought was her prince, a sweet dark-haired boy named Frank Caterino. They'd met one day at the New York Public Library quite by accident when they both reached for the same book, Michel Foulcalt's Discipline and Punish. From the moment their fingers brushed together, Claire was smitten. Right after that he had asked her out for a coffee where it didn't take Claire long to discover that Frank was so refreshingly different from all the other boys she had dated. She had found him to be funny, smart as a whip and incredibly handsome. The best part was he didn't ask too many questions about her past.
In a word Frank was perfect.
And after several months of casually dating and not going past third base, Claire finally decided she was brave enough lose her virginity to him. Frank being a true romantic at heart had thought of everything to make the moment special for her- a candlelit dinner at his place, the right music to set the mood, flowers...the works. Everything had been so wonderful that by the time he led her into the bedroom, Claire was floating on air.
Frank turned out to be considerate lover. And Claire loved the way he had taken his time to worship her body by making love to her slowly, gently. Leisurely he had explored every inch of her until he had her begging for him. Of course Frank was mindful of her maidenhood. And when he finally slipped inside her, he made every effort to make the experience as pleasurable for Claire as it was for him. He was however unaware of her inability to feel pain. Nevertheless she put on a good show for his benefit when he finally broke through her innocence by wincing and arching her back at the precise moment.
However, when they tried to copulate for the second time that night Claire came to a sudden and horrible realization.
Thanks to her traitorous regenerating body her hymen had grown back. And Claire's heart sank like a stone the moment her daunting fate was revealed to her on the blood stained sheets of Frank's bed- she was doomed to be a virgin forever.
Summarily, Claire had bolted from her confused lover's bed, hastily got dressed, and then broke things off with the boy without any explanations. She then ran out of his apartment with hot tears of anguish streaming down her cheeks. Frank of course ran after her, demanding answers. But how could she tell him the truth of who or what she really was? She couldn't…Claire had worked too hard to have the life she had now. And as heartbroken as she was, she couldn't allow a stupid thing as infatuation destroy all she had attained.
So Claire made a pact with herself to abstain from sex altogether until the "right person" came along, whatever the hell that meant. Self-imposed abstinence however did make for a lonely existence but she had to protect herself at all costs.
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Thank God she still had her Uncle Peter to hang around with or her loneliness would have been unbearable. The man had welcomed Claire with open arms when she first arrived in New York, and so had his girlfriend Emma, who was special just like them. Emma and Peter were the only two people that she confided in. Her uncle was her rock and together the three of them became all the family she ever needed. They were Claire's entire support system and she couldn't live her life without them.
And then of course there was Sylar…or Gabriel, as he liked to be called now. He was the odd man out. Not quite a member of Claire's trusted inner circle but a constant presence just that same. It was strangely off-putting to see her father's killer living in the same space as her uncle, as they carried on with their abnormal bromance, as if the two men had never been mortal enemies once upon a time.
But Peter, being the well-meaning soul that he was, had told her a thousand times over that "Gabriel" had turned over a new leaf, Claire, however wasn't buying his goody-goody act even for a minute. As her mother always told her, a leopard never changes its spots. Sylar was and will always be a killer.
Lately though, she had started to see another side to her reviled nemesis. Maybe it was due to the kinder, gentler wardrobe he clad himself in these days. The ominous black clothes she remembered had been replaced by cotton tees emblazoned with rock band emblems and skin tight denim jeans that accentuated his manly "assets".
Perhaps it was those dorky glasses he seemed to favor so much or the fact that he smelled so damned good every time she saw him. Of course the fact he always appeared clean-shaven didn't help matters either. The lack of razor stubble seemed to soften his prominent features and made Sylar appear less threatening. Strangely enough though Claire found herself missing his five o'clock shadow.
Whatever it was, it didn't take Claire long to come to the shocking and sudden realization that Sylar was actually attractive…even for a psychopath.
And apparently deranged ex-serial killers had manners since he always made it a point to be outwardly polite and respectful towards her whenever she visited. But Claire wasn't fooled...she knew better than most that it would only be a matter of time before he started killing again. She could still see Sylar's predatory nature lurking within his hungry, greedy stare.
And yet despite her misgivings about the man, Claire for some odd reason had found herself often dreaming of that same ravenous stare, deep, dark and filled with longing boring into her own. In her dreams his eyes made her burn all over and caused her to feel things she dared not give voice to. And as each night passed the dreams became more elaborate, vivid, and to her horror, highly erotic. She sometimes dreamed of being back in that suite at the Stanton, only this time Sylar had used his puppeter power to force her down on her knees in front of him where he would unzip his pants and then force Claire to take his cock in her mouth. And at other times she would envision herself being splayed ontop of her mother's coffee table. But instead of taking her ability, Sylar would use TK to strip her naked before ramming his rock hard member into her pussy over and over again.
And every single time Claire would have these dreams she would always wake from them panting and sweaty with her core begging for release. Ashamedly, she would bend to lust's will and allowed her short fingers rub and probe her throbbing folds until she reached a thunderous crescendo with her enemy's name upon her lips.
Claire, unable to explain what was happening to her, was mortified by this chain of events which had become more and more frequent until they were a nightly occurence. But as alluring as her dreams were, she just couldn't bear the thought that she actually wanted Sylar even in the remotest sense. No way!
Masturbatory fantasies were one thing. However, the reality of taking that monster into her bed was another issue entirely, no matter how enticing and sexy said monster looked to her. So Claire decided to strengthen her resolve and not give into temptation. Especially on Thursdays when she had to see the object of her secret and shameful desires.
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So now here she was in front of Peter's door ready to do battle with her sexually frustrated demons.
You're just here to do your laundry, and nothing else, Claire admonished herself. No ogling, no drooling and no sexy daydreams starring the serial killer!
When she was satisfied that her little pep-talk had done the trick she forged ahead.
"Peter…?" Claire called out. She had already used her key to let herself into the apartment her uncle shared with his ex-nemesis roommate, Gabriel Gray a.k.a. Sylar.
As she tried to balance a queen-sized comforter, a jug of liquid detergent, a big bottle of Clorox and a very full laundry bag, Claire could hear the sound of the shower running. Claire usually didn't do this much laundry in a given week. But the sheets and the bed cover needed a good washing to expunge the evidence of her nightly "activities".
When Peter didn't respond to her earlier greeting and Sylar had failed to slither into the room, she assumed that one or the other was in the bathroom lathering up.
"Peter, it's me, Claire," she tried again but was only met with silence save for the cascading noise from the shower.
Hmmm, I guess he can't hear me with the shower running, she wondered thoughtfully. As for his pet psycho, he must have stepped out. Yay me!
Meanwhile, as Claire continued her inner musings she quickly made herself at home. As she briskly walked through the kitchen on her way to the tiny utility room, she suddenly spied a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies resting on the counter. When her stomach growled at the sight of the sweet confections that's when Claire realized that she hadn't eaten a thing all day.
Dropping her stuff on the pristinely clean linoleum floor she quickly sauntered over to the counter and snatched up two cookies.
Ooooo, they're still warm, she appreciatively discovered. And as she greedily took a huge bite out of first one, Claire was suddenly startled by a familiar baritone that creepily said, "Hello Clarisse…"
With her heart pounding wildly in her chest and cookie crumbs all down the front of her tank top, Claire whirled around to confront the man that dared to scare her out of her wits…again. But when her eyes fell on her uncle's roommate the recriminating words died in her throat.
Hot damn, was the only thought her hormonally addled mind could muster.
Hot damn was right. Sylar, it seemed, had snuck up behind her dripping wet and wearing nothing but white bath towel slung low on his hips. Claire's mouth watered at the sight of him as a new kind of hunger quickly took hold.
She said nothing as her eyes roamed approvingly over the well toned muscles his chest and washboard abs. Before today Claire considered Sylar to be easy on the eyes, even he was a little on the skinny side. But now as he stood before her with his dark hair a mess, nearly naked showing off his wet rippling body, and smelling better than any a man had right to, Claire never imagined he'd be so cut and downright gorgeous.
And now that she'd been confronted by this half-naked Adonis, Claire couldn't help thinking that the real Sylar made her dream lover pale in comparison
Gabriel, meanwhile, wore an expression of mild amusement as he quickly ascertained that he was the reason for Claire's abrupt speechlessness. "Sorry, I meant Claire. I still can't over that name you chose. It's so Silence of the Lambs."
Sylar's smart-alecky quip nippily snapped Claire out her sexual trance enabling her to lash out with a witty rejoinder of her own, "You should know, Hannibal. You're the one sneaking up behind people and scaring the living daylights out of them!"
He couldn't help chuckling at her as he pointed to the half-eaten cookies still clutched in her hands, "Oh really? Well, if you weren't making all that noise when you came in then I wouldn't have been forced out of the shower to investigate. And its good thing I did too, since I caught you red handed stealing the cookies I baked for the kids down at the burn center at Mt. Sinai's. Peter's supposed to deliver them tonight before he starts his shift."
Suddenly guilt-ridden for pilfering baked goods intended for innocent children, Claire tried to divert attention from her thieving ways by censuring Sylar for his current state of undress, "Whatever! Would you please do the world a favor and put something on? You're scaring the fish!" She was referring of course to Bert and Ernie, the two pet betta fish Peter had won at the St. John's Church Bazaar last month.
Gabriel smiled knowingly at her before he turned around to strut confidently toward his room.
Meanwhile Claire's roving eyes instantaneously glued themselves to his retreating backside as she admired the undulating outline of his firm buttocks scarcely concealed by the terrycloth barrier. Before he was completely out of her sight to Claire's surprise he suddenly shouted back over his shoulder, "You should really stop staring at my ass, Claire. It's not polite."
Shit! She just got caught in the act of rubbernecking Sylar.
Just fucking peachy, Claire!
Humiliated beyond belief, Claire's face burned hot with rage. In order to alleviate some of the discomfiture she was feeling she quickly dropped what was left of her cookies then snatched up the first thing at her disposal – the burgundy colored comforter resting on the floor next to her dark blue laundry bag. Then with an angry growl she flung the poorly folded bedcover toward the man that had just slighted her.
"Fuck off!" she yelled as she watched the heavy duvet smack Sylar squarely in the middle of his bare back. Satisfied that the desired target had been hit, Claire Bennet gathered up the rest of her laundry, bleach and detergent and then headed into the utility room.
"Hey!" Gabriel yelled after her. Being battered by someone's dirty bedcover was not his idea of a good time. And he had every intention to give little Miss Claire a taste of her own medicine. But as he turned around to collect rumpled comforter off the floor something wholly unexpected and very unintentional happened the moment his fingers touched soft downy material.
Quite by accident his clairsentience kicked in which immediately gave him insight into Claire's most intimate and guarded moments. Countless sensual images of Claire pleasuring herself on top of the very bedspread he held tightly within his grasp assaulted his senses until he was overwhelmed by them.
His sense of sight could discern every facet with perfect clarity, the rounded shape of her naked breasts with their hardened rosy nipples pointed straight up into the heavens just begging to be suckled. Gabriel groaned at the glorious sight of Claire's sun-kissed skin covered in a glistening sheen of perspiration, as those curvaceous legs hers were spread wide open. Meanwhile his keen sense of hearing picked up the echoes of the not-so-distance-past which revealed to him every gasp and whimper that had escaped those pouty lips as her tiny fingers explored, pinched and rubbed her dripping vagina until…until…she cried out a single name in shattering ecstasy- HIS name.
Dumbfounded and a bit frightened by his discovery, Gabriel quickly tossed the duvet away as if the thing had burned him.
Oh my fucking God, Gabriel thought with wide-eyed astonishment. Claire Bennet wants me!
TBC…
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A/N: Okay, people that was first chapter. Like it, hate it? Please let me know by clicking that little button below that says "review".