Caution: This section is Rated R for sexual content. If you are under the age of consent or find such material objectionable then do not read this section.

FYI – While I try to stay as true as possible to the events in the series, for obvious reasons I have to omit or change certain plot points to make the story work. IE, Sylar never killed Nathan (Claire can forgive a lot but never that kind of death at Sylar's hands) And I haven't introduced the carnival plot (it just isn't necessary to the story) I also find there are a LOT of continuity problems on the series so I will omit anything that doesn't make sense or re-direct a plot point that I would like to use (IE, how Peter dealt with the things that happened to him in season 3) All in all though I really try hard to keep the characters "voices" true, no matter where the plot takes them. I hope I'm succeeding.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Some twenty minutes later Sylar pulled the SUV into a gravel lot that acted as parking lot, truck stop, and pothole field. "Well, here we are," Sylar glanced up at the giant cup that was pouring neon lit coffee into the air, announcing Len's Diner.

"This is so cool," Claire enthused.

"You need to get out more," Sylar told her. Having spent a good deal of time in one greasy dive or another, he wasn't impressed by the kitsch-factor. He reached back and grabbed his jacket from the backseat.

"That's what I keep telling my husband, but he's a bit anti-social."

That earned her a scowl. Before Sylar had a chance to retort, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. Claire kissed him slow and deep. He always tasted so good. Pulling away, she looked into his caramel brown eyes, "Thank you for this."

He was now looking at her with an amused expression, "If I had known a road trip would be such a turn-on for you, we'd be on wheels three sixty five." He drew her in close and wrapped his arms around her small frame. "It's been weeks since we've had any time to.." he raised a brow, "Ourselves... if I don't get you all to myself soon I'm going to do something drastic."

"That won't be necessary." She leaned in tight, "You'll have me all to yourself soon enough." Again, she swore she could feel barely contained energies swirling just beneath the surface of her powerful husband. "Two whole weeks, without a care in the world."

"Believe me, it's not soon enough." He captured her lips, letting his hands travel.

She giggled into his mouth. "Don't you think this is a little public?" she breathed.

Her answer came from outside their SUV, as three men walking by hooted and whistled. She gave Sylar a look that said "see, told you". One man gave Sylar a thumbs-up as he passed. "Way to go."

"That's pretty enough to eat," another laughed, looking in the window at Claire.

That was one comment too many apparently, because the man suddenly pitched headlong into the gravel. His buddies started laughing uproariously at his plight. "Ow! Jesus, guys, that hurt. Shut up!" He held up his hands revealing bloody palms embedded with gravel.

"Oh!" Claire exclaimed, trying to see around Sylar. "Is he ok?"

Sylar looked on with a small, satisfied smirk. "Who cares. Let's get some lunch."

Claire eyed her husband, "You didn't do that did you?"

"Of course not," Sylar replied, opening the door. "But maybe he should pay more attention to what's ahead of him... instead of ogling my wife."

Claire sighed as she watched Sylar come around to her side of the vehicle and open the door like a perfect gentleman. Nothing would ever be easy with him. Claire took his offered hand. She only hoped she was up for the challenge.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The inside of the diner was like something out of a sixties movie. It didn't look like anything had been upgraded in all that time. The walls were painted a deep blue and the floor was a checkerboard of red and white squares. The booths had brightly colored leather seats, and glitter filled table-tops. The ambience could have been quite enjoyable had the place not looked so run-down and dirty.

Sylar looked around. "Is it all you hoped it would be?" he quipped.

"We're going to have fun, remember?" Claire chastised, though she didn't sound quite as sure as she had.

"We're going to have dysentery."

An older woman in a blue apron called across the room, "Oh hey, Hons, just find yourselves a seat anywhere."

"Well, now everyone is looking at us, we'll have to stay," Claire murmured. Smiling towards the woman, she led the way towards a booth.

"You should have seen it, Jenny. Face first in the dirt," the man laughed as they walked passed.

"Shut the hell up Hank, or so help me..."

Claire slid into the nearest... cleanest... looking booth she could find. Sylar sat across from her and grabbed a menu from their place behind the napkin holder. "If you want, I can make some suggestions, safety first in these places," he offered knowingly.

"Maybe you should," she sighed. Claire leaned her elbows on the table. She watched as Sylar perused the menu. Over a year now and she still didn't know that much about the man she called husband. Oh, she knew what everyone knew about him of course. And she also knew intimate details that you could only learn when you lived with someone. She knew what side of the bed he liked to sleep on, what kind of food he disliked... what kind of lover he was.

But he wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person when it came to who he really was inside. Claire supposed that was true of most men. While he liked to announce to the world at large that he was simply a monster, nothing about him was simple. She hoped that maybe some time alone, away from everyone and everything that complicated their lives on a daily basis, that perhaps she could get to know something of the man behind that monster. If he would allow it.

"Ok, the number four is the safest bet, you're also good on the seven and eight. I'd stay away from the three, and definitely the nine."

She smiled at him, "I don't think we can really get sick."

He shrugged, "I'm always up for living dangerously. The number nine it is."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

Route 74

Noah looked over at his traveling companion. Mohinder looked more than a little green. Somehow, he didn't think it had anything to do with motion sickness. No, the only reason for the geneticist's present state of distress was the person they were currently shadowing.

"There's bottled water in the bag on the backseat," Noah offered. Mohinder continued to stare out the window like he hadn't heard a word. "Mohinder? You ok?"

"No, no I'm really not ok," the smooth, cultured voice responded. "I feel sick."

"This is recon, that's all. I just want to keep an eye on them," Noah tried to reassure. "Trust me on this. He's still got to be jonz'ing for abilities right now. If we get really lucky, he'll make a move."

"He'll make a move," Mohinder parroted. "...And then someone dies."

"I won't let that happen."

"You can't stop him. I should know." Mohinder shook his head. "Dale Smithers wasn't the first of Sylar's murders I witnessed."

Noah glanced over at the man not sure where this was going but understanding it was important for Mohinder to share his fear. "There's nothing you could tell me that would shock me Mohinder. You say what you need to say. It's fine."

"It's not fine," he scoffed, "It will never be fine again. Did you know I was granted a ringside seat at my father's murder?"

"What?"

"I saw it happen. I was there."

"I don't understand."

"My father was so wrapped up in his research, in what Sylar had to offer that he didn't see the danger until it was too late. He didn't understand what he was dealing with. Do you know how Sylar broke that favorite watch of his?"

Noah shook his head. He knew exactly which watch Mohinder was referring to... the symbol of Gabriel Gray's transformation. "We didn't exactly chit-chat when he was on the levels. I never asked."

"I don't have to ask him. I know how he broke it. I saw it. I saw him beating my father's head into the glass of his cab, over and over again."

"Jesus."

Mohinder's smooth voice cracked, "When Sylar got tired of beating him to death he just snapped his neck. Just like that. He was dead. I watched it all happen and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Noah was silent. What could say? He could say he was sorry, and he was, but it wouldn't erase the pain. It wouldn't bring Chandra back. All any of them could hope for was some kind of retribution. Sylar would pay.

-=-=-=-=-=-

"Ugh, I'm going to pay for this." Sylar sniffed at the meatloaf that mostly resembled an organic brick... or maybe a piece of gray cake.

Claire looked at his plate, "You didn't have to get that you know. I mean, you have nothing to prove."

He took a deep breath, "Yes, I do. It's a long standing test of manhood you see."

Claire raised an eyebrow, "I don't know, Sylar. Looks like it could be dangerous."

"I laugh in the face of such danger," he clowned.

"You may be barfing in the face of such danger if you eat that," she laughed.

Sylar cut into the meatloaf with his fork and shoved a large bite into his mouth.

Claire mock gasped. "You're braver than I am. I'm now properly impressed by your manliness."

Sylar chewed slowly, contemplating, then shrugged, "Eh, needs ketchup."

Claire smiled at her husband and watched the traffic go by through the large plate-glass window. "So how long do you think before we get there?"

"Depends on how many times I have to stop," he replied sagely. "I know why you were looking at that map."

She innocently blinked at him. "I don't know what you mean. I was just looking."

He smirked, "That's a lie. You were looking at the route to the world's largest ball of string. Don't bother denying it."

"So what if I was?" Claire crossed her arms. "It's not that far out of the way and have you seen a giant ball of string? I haven't."

Sylar sat his fork down slowly and leveled his gaze. "I pretty much won't refuse anything you ask of me... but I draw the line at string. Are we clear?"

She sighed with a grin, "I think I understand why you're in such a hurry to get up to the cabin." Claire toed off her shoe and slowly ran her foot up and down Sylar's leg.

Sylar's generous brows quirked, "I think living with me has corrupted you."

"Wasn't that your plan all along?" her foot slid upwards until it was resting against the lip of his seat. She ran her toes lightly along his inner thigh.

"As a matter of fact... Claire," he warned.

"What?" she answered sweetly.

He leaned across the table, "I really wouldn't have a problem dragging you out of here then bending you over the nearest flat surface I can find. Probably not the romantic encounter you're looking for."

Her foot traveled up to mid-thigh and he twitched. She leaned in so they were almost face to face, "I hate to break it to you but romance isn't your strong suite." She added, "You are damn good at wild though" her foot continued to massage his inner thigh and Sylar was starting to look decidedly tense.

Claire stretched her leg out fully and pressed her foot against Sylar's groin. His eyes dilated and he inhaled sharply. It wasn't easy to get the upper hand with her husband. He was used to taking what he wanted rather it be power or lives... or her. She had to admit to a certain thrill. He was always exploring her sexual tolerances, encouraging her to new heights of ecstasy. Maybe he had corrupted her... but what a way to go.

The waitress picked that moment to offer good customer service. Claire thought Sylar might fry her where she stood. "You two doing ok?"

It was Claire's turn to smirk, "We're doing just fine." She pressed her foot against the decidedly hardened bulge.

"Anything else I can get you."

"Yeah, the check!" Sylar gritted out.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

Route 74

Mohinder looked at the GPS and frowned. "We've caught up. They must have stopped for awhile."

"It's all good. We'll keep going and get ahead of them. That way Sylar won't notice a tail. We're almost there anyway." Noah looked over at Mohinder. "I really appreciate this. You're one of the few people I trust."

"Really?" Mohinder scoffed, "After all the things I've done, I wouldn't trust me."

"Everyone makes bad choices Mohinder. But you're not a bad person. You're one of the good guys."

"I think there's a few people that would disagree with you." Mohinder hung his head. "I don't even know why I'm here. I know how this will turn out. How it always turns out when Sylar is involved."

"You're here to help Claire. And I won't forget that," Noah assured.

"Claire, right." Mohinder didn't tell Noah what he really thought. That Claire was already lost to them. That once Sylar had pulled her into his sphere of influence that there was no coming back, not whole anyway. He should know. Sylar took a piece of his soul and now no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. He couldn't forgive... himself. "So what do we do once we get there?"

"We check into the nearest motel and set up surveillance. Nothing obvious, we don't want to get spotted by Sylar or by the team that Angela sent. Maybe recon the town and see if there's anyone we should be watching."

"How do you mean?"

"If anyone in town has a special ability you can bet that Sylar will zero in on it real quick-like. I want to get there ahead of him. Know who's at risk."

"You really think he would risk going after someone when he's just been released from Level 5?"

"I think he needs to kill like he needs to breathe. Rather or not he can keep it under control, remains to be seen. But I wouldn't want to bet on his abstinence, would you?"

"And if he makes a move, you'll try to kill him won't you." It wasn't a question.

"I'll do what's necessary... and I'll enjoy it."

Mohinder tensed, emotions colliding within him. "You'll die."

Noah gave Mohinder an odd look, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I'm only trying to dissuade you from suicidal action."

"Don't worry I'll take precautions. I've got enough tranqs to bring down an elephant and a very large machete. I'm betting he can't re-grow his head."

Mohinder looked at him askew, "No, that's not suicidal thinking at all."

Noah ignored the comment and continued, "Do you remember ever seeing Sylar use an ability that involved energy spheres?"

"Energy spheres?"

"Yeah, bright, pulsing, red spheres."

Mohinder shook his head, "No, I think I would remember that. Of course, he doesn't like to bring out the arsenal unless his back is to the wall."

"He doesn't want anyone to know what he can really do." Noah nodded.

"I always figured it was arrogance."

"How's that?"

Mohinder shrugged, "He doesn't need much more than telekinesis to stop most attacks against him. The average person doesn't stand a chance."

There was more to that comment than the obvious Noah realized. "You did your best Mohinder. More than most would have been able to do and it did help. The information you provided was invaluable."

"My vaccine gave him back his powers. If I had refused to help him..."

"You'd be dead, Molly would be dead, and he would have found another way to get his powers back. You did what you needed to do to survive."

"So many mistakes." Mohinder stared out the window. "So many regrets."

This wasn't good, Noah realized. The scientist was obviously in a precarious emotional state. It had been a mistake to bring him along. Whatever had happened between the two men was eating Mohinder up inside. Noah studied his companion's forlorn face. The earlier comments of suicidal behavior were suddenly making him uncomfortable."Why don't you try and get some rest. We still have another hour or so."

"Rest? I haven't rested in almost three years," Mohinder offered, then turned to stare out the window as the world flashed by.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela and Peter Petrelli

Petrelli Mansion

"Mom!" Peter looked from room to room. "Mom, you in here?"

"Out here on the veranda, Peter. I was having some tea, would you like to join me?"

"No, I've got a couple of appointments this afternoon for interviews. I kinda wanted to touch base with you about Claire though. You have a minute?"

She motioned to the nearest chair. "Oh?" Angela sipped at her tea. "Is there a problem?"

"Depends on how you define it, I guess," Peter offered."We had a nice talk at breakfast the other day. Were you aware that she's developed real feelings for Sylar? What am I saying... of course you know."

"Does that surprise you? He is her husband."

"Her husband and her would-be killer." Peter shook his head. "You've been manipulating her. It's not going to end well," Peter paced in front of her.

"Come sit down," she patted the chair next to her. "On the contrary, it's going to end the way it should end."

"Mom, listen to me. The future isn't etched in stone. It's fluid."

"I know that Peter, but my dreams don't lie. I know what I saw. We need him."

"Then you shouldn't have to play games," Peter continued to pace. "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"I agree. All I've done is prime the situation. Sylar doesn't know anymore about his future than Claire does. She came to her feelings for him honestly. And as for Sylar, all he wants is someone to accept him, to ground him... to love him."

"I hope you're right," Peter finally stopped his endless roaming and sat down.

"You saw him in the future Peter, talked to him. He reformed," Angela stated.

"Yeah, he did. But he also lost control and wiped out a city."

"That won't happen, because that future won't happen. It has to be this way, so it doesn't happen. Don't you understand? What you saw then was nothing compared to the future I see, the devastation."

"My future self had the same good intentions, then he tried to kill Nathan. He almost got Claire killed... I almost killed you! Do I need to remind you?"

"Why don't you go find Hiro. Let him show you. Then you'll understand why I have to do this."

"All right, all right. I'll keep my mouth shut for the time being but don't expect me to stand by and do nothing if this situation starts to unravel. I won't let Claire get hurt."

"Sylar won't hurt her. He has the same feelings for her that she has for him. They're just not quite finished dancing around each other yet."

"And did Sylar have those feelings for Elle?" Peter reminded her.

"Completely different situation," Angela dismissed. "Elle was damaged goods. Sylar needs a firm hand that can stand up to the darkness inside him, not cater to it."

"She didn't deserve to be murdered."

"Of course not. But playing by Sylar's rules is inviting disaster. Claire's not alone in this. I'm helping to give Sylar the structure he needs to become the good person that he would like to be. That he needs to be... for all our sakes."

Peter closed his eyes, there were just so many things that could go wrong. But wishing the future would turn out differently wasn't the answer either. "Is there anything I can do to help?

Angela's eyebrows slowly rose, "You mean that?"

"I've been there, Mom. I could be out there right now hunting people, killing them. If Sylar needs people to help him stay on the straight and narrow... who better to help?"

Angela seemed to be mulling over the offer. "It won't be easy to get close to him. He's not too trusting, obviously. But he never blamed you for what happened at Pinehurst. In fact, he took good care of you when he thought you were his little brother. And you're still Claire's uncle which also buys you some good grace." She smiled, "It might actually work."

"This isn't some big plot. I really want to help. I want to keep Claire safe and if I need to help Sylar to do that, then I will."

"Oh, I know you mean it, dear." She reached out and patted him on the cheek. "I'll set up a family dinner for all of us when they get back from Vermont. You can start reaching out to him there."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

Route 74

The atmosphere in the SUV had become decidedly cooler since their rather abrupt departure from the diner. Actually, Claire was amazed that Sylar hadn't made good on his threat. She wondered what it was Angela had said or promised him to make him behave. It was kind of cute. He was trying to offer her what he thought she wanted, a "romantic" get-away in the mountains. It was what she wanted, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy their more "intense" interactions. It didn't mean she wouldn't accommodate her husband's needs.

She wasn't interested in pain or violence but she had to admit to a certain enjoyment of the dominance games and casual bondage that she had experienced with Sylar. Considering everything that had happened between them in the past, Claire was amazed that she was able to trust him enough to allow it. But he always kept his aggressions tempered. He'd never really scared her or forced her to do anything she didn't want to do. Sylar seemed to take much more pleasure in the idea of seducing her than forcing his intentions.

Claire watched her husband from the corner of her eye. His hands were around the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. What she had done back in the diner had been rather cruel but she had been a bit annoyed about the incident in the parking lot. He had used his ability against that man, then lied, knowing that she would know the truth of it. If he wanted to play games... she could too.

But now she realized how wrong that was, how could she expect Sylar to become a better person if she played the same games? If you cared about someone, you didn't use sex against them. It wasn't right.

She scooted over in the seat until she was pressed side to side with Sylar. He instantly tensed. He looked more than a little angry. "I'm sorry," she sighed. Claire had a sudden thought, she couldn't help but grin. "I know you want to make good time to the cottage but I think I owe you a more personal apology." Claire placed her hand on his thigh, her smile grew.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he fairly hissed.

"Apologizing properly." She reached over and popped the rivets on his button-fly jeans, one by one. He had turned his head and was staring at her with a combination of annoyance and intrigue. "Eyes on the road, Mister."

"Claire, so help me god..."

She pressed her hand to his groin and massaged gently. "A little something to hold you over," she whispered in his ear. "I know this is a bit cliché but if you think you can manage without running us off the road. I'd like to give it a try."

Sylar opened his mouth once and then closed it.

"Wow, I've rendered you speechless." She slipped her hand inside his jeans. His skin was on fire... and he was definitely interested. "We're going to have a helluva time explaining ourselves if we end up in a ditch," she giggled. "Though, I guess I would have to be flattered wouldn't I."

That earned her a small grin.

"So have you ever had a fantasy about getting a blowjob while driving down the highway? Anything you'd like to share?" Claire pulled his cock free then slid her hand up and down along the silken skin in light, playful, strokes. He firmed to her touch.

"I... what was the question?"

Claire maneuvered herself sideways on the seat so she could stretch out a bit. Sylar was trying to watch the road and watch her. She pointed ahead. "Front and center," she instructed.

It was so obvious that he was torn between allowing her to take control of the situation or pulling over and ravaging her like she knew he wanted to do, that she smiled. It was just like Sylar to be at war with himself, even in this. "Let me do this for you."

She draped herself against him and he inhaled sharply. Laying her head in his lap, Claire found the angle to be awkward but workable. Holding him firmly in her hand, she laved the head of his cock with her tongue.

Sylar made a small straggled noise in the back of his throat but his eyes remained glued to the road ahead.

"Not enough... friction?" This was kind of fun, she decided, being in control. She had the big, bad killer in the palm of her hand, literally. She could do anything she wanted at this point and he would most likely acquiesce. She grinned and licked him like a lollipop. The sound of cracking glass alerted her that maybe she was taking the teasing a little too far.

Claire began suckling the head of his cock while moving her hand along his shaft. This time the motion was firm and assured. They had been lovers for almost a year now. She knew what he liked. Timid romance wasn't it.

Swallowing as much of him as she could, she fondled his heated flesh with her fingers. Increasing tempo she hummed along his shaft earning a small gasp in response. She hummed a little deeper and the car jerked slightly. She gave him a small admonishing squeeze. She didn't really want to end up in a ditch.

His skin was so hot and hard now she wished she'd just let him bend her over. His reaction to her administrations was making her tingle in all the right places. Oh well, they could spend hours exploring each other soon enough, she decided. Where she couldn't reach with lips and tongue Claire stroked with her fingers until Sylar was almost coming up off the seat against her motions. He was close. She reached her free hand down between her own legs and pressed. Moaning around his cock was Sylar's undoing, he came with a breathless sigh.

Claire returned to her place beside him with a self satisfied expression on her face.

His breathing slowed and he looked over to where she sat with a cocky grin, "Shouldn't I be the smug looking one?"

Claire laughed and leaned in for a kiss. "I take it all is forgiven?"

"I wasn't mad before just... frustrated." He wrapped his arm around her. "That was pretty unexpected though. What prompted such daring?"

Claire shrugged. "I don't know. This is just the first time we've been able to be so... normal. Just the two of us on the road. Two whole weeks away from everything and everyone. I feel free."

"Even though you're spending the whole two weeks with me?"

Claire snuggled into his side. "Actually, I'm looking forward to it. You and I have come a long way this last year. Maybe it's time we look at this marriage differently."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, at this point I don't think it matters how it all started. We're here now and we have a life together. And I think it could be good. We can make something of it... if you want to."

Sylar's brow furrowed slightly. "I... I don't know how to do that."

"It's simple, we do it together. Small steps, like this vacation. No expectations just progress towards happiness."

"You sound like a greeting card." Sylar did not sound convinced.

"And what would that card say? Happiness is a serial killer on the wagon? You know better than that Sylar. I know this isn't a fairy tale. I don't want it to be. I just want the chance at a life... with you."

Sylar's eyes widened slightly. "Ok," was all he could think of to say.

Claire smiled, "You cracked the windshield."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mohinder and Bennet

St Johnsbury, Vermont

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Just one more ratty roadside motel. How many did this make? Mohinder surveyed his shabby surroundings. Twenty year old TV, check, lumpy mattress covered by a faded bedspread, check, air conditioning unit that wheezed and sputtered like an asthmatic, check.

And would they forever remind him of Sylar? ..the things that they had done together in places like this? The way they had laughed at the cheesy late night porn playing on the old television set, the way Sylar pretty much used him as a pillow always complaining there was a spring in his back. The other sounds that were burned into his mind that had nothing to do with climate control. He hated this place. He hated Sylar for making him love him.

Noah tossed his duffel on the bed.

"We've got adjoining rooms." He motioned to the door near the bathroom. "These rooms give us a good view of both directions in and out of town. There's a market right there across the street and pretty much everything runs along the main road through town. It should make recon fairly easy." The Indian man looked a bit like a lost little boy. Whatever memories this place invoked it wasn't good. "Mohinder?"

"Yeah, no problem. It's fine. When do you want to start?"

"In the morning's soon enough. They were only an hour or so behind us so we should probably grab food now in case they stop in for supplies before they get to the cottage."

-=-=-=--=-=-

By the time Mohinder reached the counter to pay for his groceries he couldn't even remember what he had picked out for dinner. He looked into the hand basket he carried and cringed when he noticed the Oreo cookies. Sylar and he had nearly made themselves sick one night gorging on Oreo's. He had sent Zane.. Sylar.. to the mini-mart for something to eat and the man had come back with three packages of the chocolaty cookies.

Asking Sylar what he could possibly be thinking in buying all the super sweetened chocolate, the killer had mischievously replied that they would need the sugar rush as they would both be up all night. It had taken him a good ten seconds before the meaning behind the words registered and he had blushed furiously. Who would have thought such deep mocha skin could blush so prettily, Sylar had rasped in that low tone of his. Mohinder snatched the cookies from his basket and tossed them on a stack of fresh bread next to the counter.

Noah gave him a look. "Just dieting or did the cookies offend you in some way," he tried to lighten the tone.

Mohinder ignored him, handing the cashier a twenty. "I'll meet you back at the rooms," as he turned the scientist put his hand over a small jar and dropped his change in with a clink.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

"On the road again... just can't wait to get on the road again!!" Claire sang loudly and slightly off key.

"Ok that's it, I warned you three miles ago if you didn't stop with the singing you would have to pay!" Sylar yelled over the enthusiastic tempo.

"Yeah, yeah, big talk but there's nowhere to pull off along here so your threats fall on deaf ears!" she shot back. "Life is a highway... I wanna ride it.. all.. night.. long!" she belted out. This trip was turning out to be a lot of fun, something she didn't get nearly enough of. Her husband actually had a very sharp sense of humor and could even be playful when the mood struck. She was relaxed and happy.

It surprised her a little to realize how comfortable she had become with him. Without any outside influences they seemed to connect. No company to remind them that they were different, no grandmother to manipulate them and their feelings, no father to accuse them... They were real.

"You asked for it," was all she heard before there was a sudden sensation along her ribcage. Claire's eyes went wide. "Oh my god!" she rasped as she felt fingers that weren't really there.. dig in. "No fair!!" she squeaked as Sylar tickled her.

Sylar glanced over at where she writhed in the passenger seat, wicked smirk firmly in place. "Fair? You're not serious. You expect me to play fair??"

"No stop!! Stop!" she choked out. "You can't do this!"

"I can't?" Sylar looked over at her incredulously. "I think I can... and will. Repeat after me, I will not sing obnoxious songs and annoy my husband."

"ARH! Ok, ok, you will not sing obnoxious songs.." Claire giggled defiantly.

"You'll never give up will you.." Sylar chuckled. "We're a perfect match."

Claire squealed and slid off the seat into a cramped heap on the floor. The tickling sensation stopped and she drew in gasps of air in a rush. "Nope, no intention.. of giving.. up.". she smiled lightly, "Because imperfect as we are.. we are a perfect match."

Sylar wouldn't meet her eyes but a smile lit his face, "We're here."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Oh, this place is just beautiful isn't it?" Claire enthused.

Sylar looked at the passing businesses and the old time village atmosphere with a disinterested gaze, "I guess. Looks like every other small town to me."

"Don't be so cynical. This place is really nice. We'll have a good time together."

That melted the hard carriage of Sylar's face and he sighed, "You know that I'm completely out of my element here... and I don't mean the small town."

"I know. I'm not exactly a relationship expert either you know." She slid over next to him and laced her arm around his. "Remember what I said, no expectations. We just.. hang out. Get to know each other better.."

Sylar smirked.

"I wasn't referring to that but," she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, "I'm looking forward to a lot of that too." Claire smiled. "Hey, there's a little market, there on the right. Let's stop."

Sylar slid the SUV into a space right in front of the doors. "Didn't Mama P say the place would be stocked by the time we got here?"

"Yeah, but this is what average married couples do," Claire informed him as she opened the car door. "And for the next two weeks we are going to be the most average people on the planet."

Sylar trailed behind her, "Yeah, that'll work out well."

"Hush," she admonished lightly and took his hand in hers.

"We're going to hold hands?" he looked at her with a disbelieving expression.

"Yep," Claire answered, tugging him towards the market.

"What planet did you say you were from?" Sylar quipped.

Claire gave him a light smack on the arm, "We're allowed to be all silly and romantic about every little thing because technically we're still newlyweds and this is a honeymoon so don't rain on my parade Mister Gray or I will become very cranky."

Sylar eyed the sky speculatively, "That's one ability I haven't acquired yet but weather control could be.." the rest of the thought died away at Claire's expression.

"What's your thoughts on fish sticks?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As they moved up in the line, Claire leaned into Sylar and finished, "I didn't think I was ever going to live that one down."

Sylar smiled at her, "The trials and tribulations of an uptown cheerleader."

"Hey! Don't be mean. I'm sharing here. It was a traumatic experience for a thirteen year old."

"Uh huh, versus all the other things that have happened in your life, that sounds positively devastating," Sylar responded with little sympathy.

"Yeah well, those other things have become just as commonplace." She sat the hand basket on the counter and turned to her husband, "Probably not such a good thing, huh."

"I'm really not the one to ask." Sylar added, "But I suppose you could think of it as a testament to our ability to adapt."

The cashier began ringing up their items.

"Yeah, that's true I guess. We're still here." Claire looked thoughtful.

"Together," Sylar ventured.

She smiled up at him, "Yes, together."

"That'll be forty one eighty," the cashier interjected. "Let me guess.. newlyweds."

"Yes, we are," Claire stated. "Are we that obvious?"

"Looks like love to me," the cashier offered.

Sylar shoved forty five dollars at the kid, "Here."

Claire started laughing.

"What?" Sylar's brow furrowed.

"Why Mister Gray, if I didn't know any better I would think you were blushing", she teased.

"You sure you want to cross that line with me Missus Gray?"

Claire grabbed the bag of groceries off the counter. "We crossed that line a long, long time ago. Guess you're just going to have to catch up huh," and with that Claire turned and sashayed towards the door.

The cashier handed Sylar his change, "I'm thinking she's a handful."

The former serial killer turned back to the clerk. "Don't think about my wife.. ever," his intent quite clear. He leaned over and dropped the change into the jar, his hand brushing it's surface. An image flashed across his mind like lightning.

"Mohinder."