A/N: This is set the night before the finale, i.e. the night after Peter "almost" died. This was written for a challenge on livejournal called " in public", just like my other story for that challenge The Best Tip Ever.

All except my first three Heroes stories are beta'd by the extremely talented dragonydreams.

Dance With Me

The world would explode tomorrow.

For this one night they made each other a promise.

That promise was that they wouldn't let thoughts of the future taint their fun. After all they'd gone through in the past few days, they both needed a break from the stress and the worry. Just one night for themselves so that when the darkest day yet to come arrived, they'd have happy memories to remind them of what they were fighting for.

With their goal in mind, and their promise as well, Peter and Claire slipped into one of the many clubs in the Meat District and tried to find peace in the crowd. The two of them had sneaked out of Nathan's townhouse mere minutes before and any thoughts of guilt hadn't shown up yet.

Peter didn't know if it would show up. Something about being around Claire made the rest of the world seem like a distant memory. He knew it was there, but he felt disconnected from it. He'd felt that way since he'd opened his eyes this afternoon and the first thing he saw was Claire. Her hand in his hair, her breath on his face, and her teary blue eyes locked onto his; it was a glorious thing to wake up to.

From that moment on, the two of them hadn't been alone together. Nathan and Angela Petrelli had talked about everything under the sun, hugged and greeted Peter like he'd been gone for years, and through it all Peter could only think of Claire. Of her sea foam eyes watching the trio from across the room, her tears long dried up. Peter couldn't tell what she was thinking as she sat there, but the empty look in her eyes made him want to know.

She'd managed to escape the Petrelli Family reunion with an hour. Peter hadn't been so lucky. Through it all he'd managed to remain glib about his near-death experience, if it could be called that. It was like Claire said, eventually you get used to it.

He wondered if he'd ever get used to the idea of Claire being his niece.

She tugged on his hand and he leaned over so she could yell over the music. "You want to do this here?"

"You'd rather stay at home?"

Claire shrugged and pointed across the room. "There's an empty table."

He grinned and went to whisper back into her ear, ignoring the feel of that soft sensitive flesh under his lips and the scent of vanilla rushing into his nose. "I thought you said you wanted to dance."

She shook her head and wrapped one small hand around one of his lapels, pulling him even lower. She was so much smaller than him, Peter marveled as he obligingly leaned lower. "I said I wanted to do something, anything!" Claire corrected him. "You suggested the club."

Peter nodded, sliding one rough palm down her arm and linking fingers again. "So I did."

"What?" Claire asked, seeing his lips moving but not hearing anything. Truthfully, she could tell what he'd said hadn't been of real importance but she had enjoyed having Peter so close to her when they'd spoken.

He shook his head and started to make his way through the crowd of scantily clad people. The dance floor was packed and the outer rim of it was no better. All of the tables close to the floor were full, but near the back of the room several private booths were empty. Peter chose one at random and aimed in that direction.

By the time they slid into the U-shaped booth, both of them were covered with a sheen of sweat. It was by no means hot outside, but the temperature inside had skyrocketed as people within moved about. Claire pulled off the black jacket she'd worn and revealed a sleeveless white blouse beneath. The jacket, of course, matched the black wide-leg trousers Peter's mother had bought for Claire.

Peter missed the cheerleading outfit, for more than one reason.

It was quieter near the back wall so they didn't have to yell to be heard anymore. Claire ignored that little fact and sent a thrill up Peter's arm when she leaned over to ask, "Why here?"

"You've never been to New York before. Figured you'd like to see the sights," Peter replied as he studied the crowd a few feet away. He didn't look down at Claire; his thoughts were swirling with too many different feelings for that to be safe.

Claire laughed. "If you wanted me to see New York aren't you supposed to take me to the Statue of Liberty or something?"

Peter shrugged. "Did you want to go to the Statue of Liberty?"

Claire looked around the club at all the strangers milling about and realized something. "I don't want to be anywhere but here."

Peter looked at her then and grinned crookedly. "Me either."

Claire blushed and tapped her fingers on the table in time with the beat of the song now playing. "So...Uncle Peter, huh?"

Peter's smile dimmed a bit and he hurriedly looked away again. "Apparently."

"Oh, come on, Peter. I promise I won't be that bad of a niece," Claire needled him, elbowing him in the side but ignoring the small pangs of stress that crackled along her nerves as she tried to be as nonchalant about the situation as she could.

"It's not that," Peter replied as he suddenly slid out of the booth and onto the floor. "Dance with me."

"Peter?" Claire asked in a confused tone, unsure what to make of his sudden shift in mood.

"Dance with me," he said again, holding out his hand for her.

She shrugged and placed her hand in his. Together they made their way to the middle of the dance floor just as the music began to change. What had been an electrical sounding instrumental only song melded into a sultry and fast paced remix. Without hesitation Claire spun around and into Peter's arms.

They danced.

It was as if the entire time they spent on the dance floor, they weren't who they were. He wasn't Peter Petrelli, she wasn't Claire Bennet, they were not related, they were not special. They were just two people, dancing together.

There was no room to really move where they were and more often than not there wasn't an inch of space between their bodies. The height difference might have posed problems for some, but not for them. Claire was entirely comfortable with having to look up at Peter, and he was entirely too comfortable with looking down her shirt.

Claire dipped low, running her hands down his hips even as she slowly slid back up. Peter's eyes rolled back in his head and he struggled to keep his hands to himself. Claire seemed determined to tempt him, however.

She turned in front of him, placing her back to his front and dipped again. The sight of all those flaxen curls flowing over his abdomen had an irrepressible force in Peter flexing his fingers and running them through her hair. Claire rose back up, her eyes closed in apparent ecstasy as she let the music choose her next move.

Turned out the next move wasn't even hers.

Peter wrapped one long arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing his face into her hair. Their hips moved in sync, twisting and turning at the same time. Claire held Peter's free hand as they moved, her head tilted back enough so that Peter could see her licking her lips just before she bit down on the lower one hard. The blossom of red color that seeped there instantly had Peter throbbing and hard within seconds.

Claire felt it just as quickly as he did.

She suddenly spun out of his arms, still holding one of his hands so that she stopped when she was an arm's length away. It took all she had not to look down and confirm what she might have felt on her back.

Peter licked his top lip in an absent-minded way and Claire forgot what she'd been meaning to do. She stepped close again, her front to his, and the sensation of perky nipples on the rough lace of her bra had her panting.

Using their rough breathing as an excuse to pull her off the floor, Peter held her hand all the way to the table. He pushed her in one side before turning to walk away. Claire watched him go with small feelings of trepidation.

Had she done something wrong?

Peter ordered two bottles of water and paid quickly, making his way back to their booth within minutes and knocking several people off their own courses as he did so. When he stepped back into view Claire's wide eyes locked on his immediately. She slid farther into the booth, making way for him. He set down the drinks but hesitated before sliding in.

Without explaining, he pushed one bottle to Claire and reached for the small private screen hidden just inside the booth walls. It was stiff and slightly transparent with a painted design on both sides. It slid into place easily and didn't block any of the noise and only a little of the sight. However, since it was darker inside the booth than outside, the occupants inside could see out and the ones outside would have to be really close and intent on it to see in.

Hence why it was called a "privacy booth".

Claire sipped slowly and struggled to control her breathing. Peter hadn't looked at her since he'd slid the screen into place and she was unsure of just what was going to happen. Setting aside the water, she slid closer to his side and tried to break him from the faint trance he'd fallen into. "Peter?"

He jerked as he realized how close she was and spilled a little of his water on his hand. He started to reach for a napkin but Claire's hand stopped him. Slowly she bent, her eyes locked on his to see if he was going to jerk away at the last minute, and licked the small droplets from the knuckle of his thumb.

She sat back up and released the hold she'd had on his wrist. Peter set the water down more gently and turned to her. The back of his hand skittered down her cheek as he struggled to make words form in his mouth. Claire literally took the words right out of his mouth.

"The thoughts I'm having, Peter, I know they're wrong. You're my uncle and I'm dancing with you like we're dating. I can't seem to get you to click in my head as family, though."

Peter nodded. "Yeah." He brushed his thumb over her trembling lip. "No thoughts of the future tonight, remember?"

She nodded. "I remember."

"No thoughts of consequences," he added on as he kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered closed and she wrapped slim fingers around his wrist again. Even as she kissed him again she was pushing his hand down. His fingers rubbed softly over swollen breasts as she led his hand where she wanted it to go.

He pressed hot fingers against the apex between her legs, shocked by the wet warmth he felt there. Claire released his wrist and moaned as he used his fingertips to slowly rub up and down. "None," she agreed as she hungrily moved for his lips.

Peter's fingers fully rubbed up and down the slit easily felt through the thin trousers and Claire moaned into his mouth. Even as those same fingers unbuttoned and unzipped the obstacle he was wrapping his other hand around her neck and pulling her closer. When his fingers slid into her panties and through the moist curls that covered her private area Claire broke off the kiss to moan loudly.

They might have given thought to the public setting but the music was so loud it was doubtful anyone would hear.

With a swift move Peter pulled Claire onto his lap, pressing kisses to the back of her neck as his fingers deftly slid between her lips and into her warm pulsating body. On his lap she had enough leverage that when her head fell backward it fell onto his shoulder. Peter licked and nibbled his way up to her ear as her hips bucked into his hand, sending the table rocking and their drinks flying. Neither cared nor noticed.

Claire's rear rubbed against his aching lap and Peter bit into her neck in punishment. She screamed silently and fisted her hands in his hair, trying to pull him closer. Peter pressed his long fingers into her faster, using his palm to steady her hips, and began to thrust with her movements. The feel of her rubbing against his hardness was as erotic as the images of her riding him.

Together they moved faster and faster, the table rhythmically knocking against the bench opposite until it'd moved far enough away to not be touching them. Their movements were oddly reminiscent of their dance, except it was more true to the nature of their thoughts than it had been before.

Peter slid his hand under her shirt, finding the front clasp of her bra easily and undoing it with nimble fingers. When he tweaked one of her nipples with gentle fingers, Claire gave a loud moan and began to cum around his fingers. It took all Peter had not to cum with her.

She bore down on his fingers, clenching them inside her, and struggled to breathe. All the air in the small booth had disappeared minutes ago and had not returned. Finally, she leaned back onto Peter's chest and watched with a sated gaze as he slid his hand out of her pants.

She smiled into his neck as she turned her body so that she could straddle him, placing her arms on either side of his head. She nuzzled the salt-tasting flesh there and sighed as he slid his arms around her body. When he lifted her and set her on the table behind her she woke up a bit. When he started to pull down her pants and underwear, she perked up in several ways.

Peter sat back down and stared at her for several moments. Her blushing face and mischievous eyes; her half-unbuttoned blouse and the odd bunching on the side that was her bra. He ran his hands slowly up her calves and opened her legs until he could see all of her.

Then he unbuttoned his pants and slid out his inflamed and swollen penis. Claire leaned forward, her breasts almost falling out of her top as she wrapped her fingers around the base of him. At first he thought she planned to stimulate him, something he didn't need much more of lest he finish before he was ready.

Instead, she used her grip to pull him to his feet to between her thighs. Peter placed his hands on either side of her and watched as she slid the head of his penis up and down her opening. The wet warmth from her previous climax mixed with his pre-cum and Peter bucked against her hand as she teased him.

Finally, Claire released her grip on him and slid back until she lay flat on the table. She unbuttoned her blouse as Peter's fingers wrapped around her muscular thighs. Peter waited until she'd parted the shirt to press through the lips of her vagina and into the slick walls within.

Claire bit down on her fist to keep from screaming, something that might be heard, and tasted the tang of Peter's pre-cum on her fingers. Even as her little tongue flicked out to taste it again, Peter was pulling out and thrusting back into her.

Despite already having orgasmed, she was still tight as he moved within her. He moved slowly, deliberately, and used that rigid control to force her to climax with him. Every time he thrust into her he opened her legs wider and rubbed his dick on the walls within her. When he heard her squeak suddenly on one thrust he knew he'd found what he was looking for.

Adjusting their hips minutely, he pushed his head over that spot again and again. Claire slammed her fist into the table even as she bit down hard enough on the other to have blood trickling down her cheek. Peter pulled her hand away and pressed his tongue against hers, mimicking the movements of his hips below.

The table hit the opposite side of the booth and through the roar of ecstasy Peter heard splintering wood. Claire bit down on his tongue gently and began to quiver around him. Her muscles gripped him, trying to keep him inside as he slid out and providing friction as he slid in. The ridges on his dick rubbed against the muscles inside Claire and she screamed into his mouth as a much more powerful orgasm ripped through her body.

Her back arched as she ran her hand desperately over the table, trying to find something to hold onto and finally settling for Peter's arms. He rammed himself into her over and over, deliberately going as deep and slow as he could.

When she hit her peak, he finally released his control and thrust into her wildly in frantic beats. Her heels rubbed his back as his cum shot out and into her, filling the recesses of her with a tickling sensation that left Claire wracked with aftershocks of orgasm.

Peter slumped down into her arms, thrusting softly as she wrung him dry.

They lay there like that for several minutes before they remembered just who they were and where they were. Peter could feel her hands running through his chin-length locks of hair as he pulled out of her. He sat heavily on the booth and pulled her from the table and into his lap. "Are you okay?"

Claire smiled lazily into his cheek, laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm great."

Peter nodded, trying to clear the after-sex buzz from his mind so that he could think clearly enough to get them out of here and home. "We've got to go."

Claire nodded, her eyes suddenly clear as she reached for her pants. "Yeah."

Peter cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "This isn't over."

Claire stared at him silently for several seconds before leaning in and brushing a kiss across his lips. "I know."

When they were both presentable again, Peter took her hand and opened the screen. The crowd outside apparently hadn't seen or heard anything because almost no one even looked their way.

When Peter looked back at the booth as they moved through the crowd, however, the couple in the booth right next to theirs gave Peter a thumbs-up that had the man blushing like a school-girl. If only they knew just who he'd been fucking.

"Peter? Can we catch a cab?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, suddenly the idea that people had known just what he and Claire had been doing didn't embarrass him. In fact, if anything it titillated him.

He pressed a kiss into her temple. "Sure."

Claire glared at him suspiciously, looking around at people in case they'd seen the display of affection. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," he grinned, "just thinking about the next time I can get into you."

"Peter!"

"Claire!"

"Stop that. We're in public."