Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes. Song lyrics are "Delicate" by Damien Rice—don't own those either.

A/N: Here's another chapter. Please, please give me your comments. I really want to know what you think about this story. Also, this chapter is rated R. It's not until later so skip it if you don't want to read it. Feedback is love and motivation. Dani

Thanks to Adrie for Betaing…



We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate…

Three

"Where's Peter?" Claire asked Nathan. Nathan and Heidi looked at each other. "What?"

"He's gone Claire," Nathan said softly.

"Gone? Gone where? On vacation?" she asked. She looked around the large room, her eyes finding a spot in the corner. They kissed there once…

"Claire," Nathan said, "He left."

Claire sat down across from him so she wouldn't fall over. "What? Where?"

Nathan shook his head. "He said it was something for Mohinder but he didn't say where."

"So he'll be back?"

Nathan took his daughter's hand. "No, it's a-a permanent move, Claire. Peter's not coming back."

Claire wanted to cry but she could barely breathe. She was only gone a week—a week on her honeymoon—the one he made her go on and he was gone? "Did he leave me a note or anything?" Claire asked.

Nathan shook his head and Claire smiled softly. Later, she would sob in her new husband's arms, pouring tears that he didn't understand.

Claire hated herself. She lay in bed with her husband and dreamed of Peter. A month. A month he'd been home and most days were spent at her apartment—which also made her hate herself. She was ruining all their lives because she was selfish but she couldn't stop thinking about him or make him stop coming.

Claire snuggled up to Austin. Maybe if she got closer to him she could move farther and farther away from her feelings about Peter. She knew it was crazy, but what she was feeling was crazier. She was married; she had a daughter. She was happy. At least she was until Peter walked back in the door.

She didn't want to think about him but he was like a drug. She didn't know how to not think about him. That kiss was agony. It left her wanting more—more that she couldn't have.

Claire walked down the hallway. This was a crazy mission but she went because Mohinder had this power over her that she couldn't explain. She sighed. It had to be the accent. Claire stood in the hallway, schmoozing with the people that stood beside her. She heard a laugh, a laugh she knew.

Her eyes followed the sound and landed on a tall man with dark hair. She moved toward the man. "Peter?" her voice cracked. It was barely audible. "Peter." She said it louder this time and he turned toward her.

"Claire," he whispered. His company departed slowly, leaving the two standing in the middle of the floor.

She stared at him. He looked the same. He was gorgeous—as always. Claire suddenly wished she'd worn a different outfit. Neither of them spoke. She had no idea what to say. She hadn't seen him in a year. She touched his arm and sparks travelled up her back. Peter must have felt it too. Without speaking he took her hand and pulled her to the other hallway, the empty one.

Peter looked into her eyes. She was trembling. He touched her face and kissed her lips softly, as if he wasn't sure. That small kissed turned into one of passion and their hands explored each other's body. Peter pulled away, both gasping air.

"God, I've missed you," Peter said, his hand caressing her face.

Claire held back her sob. "You have no idea." She kissed him again and thought of nothing else.

Austin kissed Claire's neck in the kitchen. "It smells delicious."

"Good. It's for us, for breakfast," she said. He groaned. She turned to look at him. "You can't stay."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, honey. The verdict comes back at nine and our team needs to meet before and talk things over. Hopefully, we'll get a not-guilty and I'll be home before lunch."

She smiled. "Let's hope then. I'll make us a nice lunch—just in case."

He kissed her. "What did I do to deserve you?" Claire flinched and turned away. She was the one who didn't deserve him. "Do you have big plans for today?" he asked.

Claire shook her head, "I think Peter's coming over."

"Oh," Austin said, "I guess you two made up then."

"Something like that," Claire said. The guilt weighed on her as she smiled at her husband. Husband.

Austin laughed. "I'm glad it's getting better. I like Peter." Claire faked a smile at his comment, a notion she was good at. "I love you. I'll see you for lunch—hopefully."

Claire sighed and turned off the stove. Breakfast for one and a half.

Peter stared at Claire. She smiled awkwardly and took a sip of her champagne. "Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"You look different—older, mature."

"That's just what a girl loves to hear," Claire smiled.

"No I mean…I just didn't expect you to get older," he said.

"Mohinder said my aging—if you will—ceases in two or three years. That's his guess anyway," she said. "You look exactly like I remember you."

Peter shifted and smiled. "Well, we knew that would happen. I haven't looked older in eight years."

Claire laughed.

"That's music to my ears," Peter said. Claire looked at him softly, "I've missed your laugh."

"Pete," Nathan said his name from his office. Peter left his spot beside his mother and went to his brother. "You have plans today?"

"I was going to go see Claire and Sophie after Ma's appointment." Peter smiled. He didn't want to but it was the reaction that she brought out in him. His Claire. He had her back—in some form.

Nathan looked at him. "You and Claire have made up then?"

Peter shrugged, "We're getting there."

"What happens when you leave again?" Nathan asked.

"I don't know," Peter said, "I might not leave again."

Nathan raised his eyebrow, "You would stay?"

Peter shifted his stance, "Maybe...I don't know Nathan. I don't want things to be awkward with Claire."

Nathan nodded and shifted his papers silently. "When do we leave for her appointment?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Peter looked at his watch, "Three minutes."

Nathan nodded, "She won't take the chemo, Pete. I can't convince her."

"It's her decision."

"She's our mother. I don't want her to die yet. She doesn't want people to know she's sick—that's the whole reason," Nathan said.

"She's going to die eventually, Nate. And again, it's her decision," Peter said.

Nathan looked at him and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You won't even try?"

Peter sighed, "I'll try Nathan but I'm not pushing her. It's—"

"Her decision, yeah, yeah," Nathan waved off the sentence, "Just try, Pete." Peter nodded. He would do anything for his brother; he always did.

Nathan and Peter helped Angela to the car, though she complained the whole time that she didn't need help. Even at the hospital, she rambled about not needing them. When the doctor mentioned chemo she dismissed him. Nathan looked at Peter pleadingly and Peter touched his mother's arm. She pulled it away and yelled that she was not going through that; she'd rather just live life and die. Peter looked back at Nathan.

"There's no changing her mind, Nathan," Peter whispered when they got out of the car

"I know. I just don't want it to be like this."

Peter hugged his brother before they went inside. "No one does."

Peter kissed her again. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help it. It was Claire. He hadn't seen her for a year. He thought he was over her but now that she was here, he just wanted to hold her and kiss her.

Claire smiled and pulled away from him. She stared at him; he didn't avert her gaze.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you Peter Petrelli," she said.

Peter grinned his lop-sided smile, "And you have cannot fathom how miserable I've been without you."

She laughed as if he was kidding. "How's that?"

Peter touched her face, "It's been an all-consuming, life-altering pain that nothing else can fill."

Claire watched him. His face changed, like seeing her made something in his life better, like it was something real that he missed, like he just found his soul. He moved a piece of her hair out of her face and moved his hand down her cheek. She grabbed his hand and kissed it.

"Make love to me, Peter," she said.

"Peter!" she smiled and opened the door, "Make yourself comfortable," Claire disappeared back into the kitchen.

Sophie sat on the floor, surrounded by stuffed animals. Peter snickered when he saw Flop on her lap. Sophie smiled and moved to hug him. Peter held out his arms and she jumped inside. He kissed her forehead and she sat back down as Claire came in the room.

"She has the prettiest eyes," Peter said. Claire shrugged with a smile. "So, what are you doing in there?" Peter asked.

Claire smiled, "Making lunch."

"It smells great," he said, "Special occasion?"

"We're celebrating," Claire sat beside him. He laughed at her expression.

"Celebrating what?"

"He won!" Sophie said.

Peter looked from her to Claire, "The case he's been working on?"

Claire nodded. "Well, we don't know that he's won yet but we're hoping." Peter raised an eyebrow. "We celebrate when he wins big ones. He's been busy; he hasn't really been around much. So if he wins, I'll be ready."

Peter nodded and ignored the urge to ask what happens if he loses.

Claire pulled her legs toward her chest. "What have you been doing today?"

"We took Ma to the doctor," Peter spoke softly.

Claire was quiet for a second and played with the thread on her jeans. "What did they say?"

"She won't do the chemo."

"She's so stubborn. That's where everyone gets it from," Claire attempted to lighten the mood. When it failed, she reached out for his hand, "I'm sorry Peter. I know how much you love her."

Peter smiled weakly, "She'll be alright. She's a fighter."

Sophie laughed at something and Peter and Claire both looked at her. The phone broke their gaze and their silence.

"Hey, honey!" her voice danced with excitement. Her enthusiasm faded slowly and her side of the conversation reduced to "uh-huh", "okay" and "its fine." Claire moved from Peter so he wouldn't have to hear any more.

"Really, I understand Austin. I'll just see you when you get home."

"I love you, Claire."

She didn't reply. Just hung up the phone. She looked at Peter.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," she smiled her fake smile. She threw the phone on the chair and stalked off to the kitchen.

"Make love to me Peter," she said.

He looked at her. "Claire…"

"Please. It's been so long. I just need to be in your arms," she said.

Without hesitation, Peter kissed her and pulled her off the ground toward the bed.

Claire wiped her eyes when she Peter walked up behind her. She heard him there but she didn't turn around.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," she snapped. She moved to the oven and pulled out the food she'd been cooking.

"It's ok, Claire," he touched her shoulder. She shook her head and threw a dish in the sink. "Claire."

"He's never here Peter!" Claire yelled. Her voice took him off-guard. "Never. I see him when we go to bed and for a few minutes when we wake up. But he's not here, not even on the weekends."

"Claire…" he grabbed her hand.

"Don't," she demanded and jerked it away. "I thought I could handle it. I have this long. It's never been a problem then you came back and my life is a mess."

Peter took a step back. "I'm sorry, Claire."

Her face lightened and she shook her head. "Don't be sorry; it's always been a mess." She moved toward him and he wrapped her in his arms. "I never minded the long hours—it didn't matter. Now you're here, in our house. I keep thinking that it's all wrong."

Peter was quiet. "I do too."

Peter kissed her neck. Claire smiled and pulled Peter's shirt over his head. It fell to the floor with ease. Peter did the same and Claire's dress landed on the pile. He kissed her again. Her mouth, her neck, her chest. He held her breasts in his hand, fingering her nipples and kissing them. He moved over her body, memorizing its curves, its peaks and dips, kissing every inch as he explored her. He kissed her stomach, kissing a trail to her bellybutton.

Peter slid into her gently. She gasped slightly at his entrance. He ran his hand through her curls and kissed her. She moaned as he moved inside of her. He moved slowly at first and he felt her loosen. Then he picked up his pace, making her moans increase.

"Oh..." She arched her back and moaned his name. Her hands found his back and she dug her fingernails in as he moved inside of her. He looked at her, unsure if she was going to cry or scream. "Oh…" she said loudly, her orgasm peaking

He kissed her neck as he moved faster. He moved in and out of her and he could feel her loosen. She said his name again and again as she peaked. Peter felt her wetness with a 

final scream and with another thrust, he released himself as well. Both of them gasping, she curled up beside him, their legs intertwined.

Peter sat beside Claire and rubbed her back. "Sophie's down for her nap," he whispered. Claire nodded slowly.

"How long are you here, Peter?" she asked. He met her gaze, unable to speak.

"I don't know."

Claire nodded. They sat together in the silence. Her hands fit in his like a glove.

"I'm here until you tell me to leave," he finally commented.

"Do you ever think about those two nights in Chicago?" Claire said softly.

Peter's mind flashed the memory of Claire's body under his, her touch, her sounds. He didn't know she was going to be there when he saw her. He thought it was a dream until he kissed her. Her lips felt so right with his that he couldn't control what she made him feel. One dinner later they were in bed together—where they stayed for the rest of the conference.

"I do think about it. I remember it like it was yesterday."

Claire looked at him. "Did you mean what you said that last morning?"

"Yes," he said through the silence that fell around them again.

Peter watched Claire put her necklace on. He'd watched her do everything that morning. He moved beside her.

"I don't want you to get on that airplane," he kissed her neck.

Claire looked at him, "You don't mean it."

He touched her cheek, "I do."Claire turned away from him.

"I have a life there."

Peter sighed, "I know."

"You could come home," Claire said as his hands moved through her hair. Peter shook his head. Claire smiled sadly. "I would leave it all if you asked me. I never wanted it anyway. I wanted this, us."

Peter kissed her. Claire searched his eyes, "You're not going to ask me are you?"

"I love you, Claire. I always have, I always will."

Claire sat on the corner of the bed, "I can't leave you again. It's too hard."

"You have to."

"But I don't want to," Claire cried against his chest. Peter looked at her calmly and stroked her hair. They didn't speak again until they were at the airport.

Peter kissed her and she cried before getting into the security line. She hung onto him tightly, as if separation would tear her in half, "Will I see you again?"

Peter looked at her, "I don't know."

Claire nodded, expecting that answer, "Take care of yourself, Peter. I love you."

Peter kissed her again as she cried. He whispered in her ear, "I'll wait for you. My heart is only, has only been yours. I'll love you and you'll always be with me—until I die."

Claire sobbed and wrapped her arms around Peter.

"Don't cry. It's delicate, Claire, like you. I don't ever want to hurt you. I love you. We'll be together someday."

"Promise me," she sobbed.

He cupped her face and moved it toward his. "For as long as I love you, I promise you..."

Peter stared at her, "I really did mean it. I still do."

Claire looked at him, "Why?"

Peter raised his eyebrow, "Why what?"

"Why did you let me marry him? Why didn't you stop it? Why did you let me get on that plane?"

Peter inhaled deeply, still looking at Claire. "I didn't want you to lose everything by being with me. I've loved you since I met you but I wanted you to have a chance for normal and then Austin came along."

Peter sat silently. The air was thick with words that he was trying to decipher. Claire watched him expectantly.

"When he asked you to marry him I knew I could never give you that, Claire. We would always be hiding. I didn't want that for you," Peter paused, "I left while you were on your honeymoon because I couldn't watch you with him. I thought I could handle it but I couldn't. I would've killed him when he kissed you. I laid awake each night knowing you were with him instead of me. It was worse than death. You were my life and I was so selfish. I know that. I just couldn't, Claire…"

Selfish. What a word. Claire knew all about selfishness. She had the love of a great man and wanted the other one. She was willing to ruin Austin's life, Peter's, Sophie's, Nathan's and her own. She was selfish. She was selfish now, sitting beside the man that she loved.

Claire kissed Peter. She knew that she shouldn't in her husband's apartment but she did. She was selfish and that selfishness was rearing its ugly head again. She had no doubt it would again consume her.

Austin was sitting on the couch when she came home. She knew something was wrong because he was never home before her. She called his name. He looked at her.

"Is something wrong?" Claire asked as he sat beside him.

"I got a phone call," Austin said, "From Dr. Suresh."

"Did he say something?"

Austin took her hand. "Are you sick?" Claire laughed and muttered no. "He wouldn't talk to me. He just said it was really important and that you needed to call him. I've been sitting here worried that you were sick…"

Claire looked in his eyes. "I do have something to tell you. He already called my cell and it was pretty unexpected."

Austin nodded, urging her on, "I'm pregnant."

It was months later when Claire realized the one thing she over-looked. Mohinder said a date. June 20th.

Claire shook her head at him. "That's not possible. That means I got pregnant in September."

"That's what it means," Mohinder looked over a paper in his hands.

Claire shook her head again in protest, "Austin had a big case that month and you sent me to…"

Mohinder locked eyes with her; her distress was overwhelming, "What's wrong, Claire?"

She looked at him, "There's something you should know."

Claire cried as Peter kissed her cheek, her forehead, anything to make her stop. But her tears flowed on, and she struggled to breathe. Peter held her in his arms as she cried. He wiped her eyes from the tears.

"What's wrong, Claire?" he whispered over and over again. "I'm here; I'm here."

The more he spoke to her the harder she sobbed. She muttered something but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He stayed there. His shirt getting wetter and wetter as the woman he loved cried over something he couldn't know. Even when he tried to read her mind he couldn't decipher what she was thinking. So he held her and whispered in her ear.

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