A/N: As always thanks to all who reviewed/alerted/favorite your support it was keep me going.
So, another chapter huh? Is funny but when I started this I didn't know if I was going to continue, but now I have a full arch written in my head ;)
To those who answered my question, is good to know that there are people so loyal to sylaire, I definitely find myself there, but in the worst case scenario and we indeed got another season full of new characters maybe we could get a mention or something? IDK I'm babbling and this is all wishful thinking anyway.
Also I would like to do a recommendation, if you enjoy action-full-of-twists type of story please go check "Heroes Rebirth from the Ashes" from the lovely Oldblueeyes, although it may seem a little controversial at first it gain structure and deep in the long and the author is open to suggestions and conscript which is always a good thing in an author and a pro in ff. In addition, for all sylaire fans out there, there are a few nice moments between our immortal duo ;)
Thanks again to my wonderful beta Purple lex for supporting and helping with this story.
I promised a longer chapter so here it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, twitter or the always funniest video of kittens from youtube I only borrow them for fun ;-)
The soft tune of the machinery, un-noticeable for some preoccupied minds, loud to those who gave enough attention, probed to be a balm for the one employee of this government institution.
As the floors continued to pass along the metal box, Claire keep tapping the heel of her shoe against the flat linoleum surface, creating a rhythm that was in tune with the notes of the melody from the elevator music, resulting in a saving grace from the thoughts that threatened to cause a wreck in her head. The noises, continuous and unchanging, reminded her of the beating of a perpetual heart or the tick-tock of a clock.
Shit, you will not think of Sylar.
Claire looked up, annoyed after checking that it had been only 5 floors on this journey and she was already thinking about the serial killer. It had been this way all throughout the shower, her changing, and the walk on foot to her destination; so distracting that she had forgotten to eat, too; she almost welcomed the uncomfortable silence produced by sharing the elevator with some unknown passer, but no such luck. She was stuck in this compartment until the twentieth floor with only her thoughts alone, and her thoughts kept going to Sylar and the events from this morning.
It was some sort of torture.
She was a strong creature, determined and stubborn. There wasn't anything that could hurt her and her strength came from this well known fact. However it only took a lingering look from his way or a caress of his breath over her face to make her crumble in a mass of flesh and nerves. It was unnerving. It wasn't fear; she had felt fear pure, unadulterated fear towards him – in a time when pompoms and the red skirt where a normal occurrence for her - and there was a distinct taste to this that lacked of the bitter tang of panic.
Maybe it was because she had killed him too, and well you learn to not fear when you kill. Whatever the reason, it wasn't the same; and like she had said before, there was anything he could take from her, too. Her feeling was almost foreshadowing: like she was expecting something to happen but what that was she didn't know. And why did he always have to act this particular way when near her? Wasn't he redeemed? Or like her so beloved uncle claimed, a changed man? This was the same Sylar she had known; well except for the fascination to make her squirm that had increased even for a creepy fellow like Sylar.
Perhaps it was the motion of appearing almost naked in front of him. Yep.
God every time she remembered she felt even more stupid, this wasn't like throwing herself out of a building, this was putting herself in front of a cargo train all over again – reckless stupid Claire - and it gave him the permission to act that way with her, more casual more relaxed, like they were… close.
Yeah, not happening.
The ding of the bell made her realize with soothing force that her destiny had been reached. She took the time between the alert sound and the mechanical door opening to cast a quick look at her reflection in the polished and reflective metal walls. Her hair was tied back in a stylish and practical bun, baring her eternally youthful face for all to see. Her makeup was light, a little foundation, some eyeliner and mascara over there and a smooth lip gloss, deliberately used to somehow give more maturity over her face. Claire smoothed her jacket and rearranged her skirt for possible wrinkles and took a deep breath.
It was Show-time.
Cracking her practiced smile-like-a-model-on-a-catalog, she left the elevator. It was something that had become routine for her, this face – this façade - but somehow she felt like it was more of an obligation. Although television cameras had forgotten about the 'girl from the Ferris wheel' she had become something like a celebrity among her office mates, and somehow something akin to a thermostat in measuring the world of specials at the day. Bright, carefree smile meant peace and prosperity; neutral, an expressionless face meant trouble. So as the years passed she adapted herself to smile, she felt it was a responsibility by being a professional in orienting people and a debt with her people for being she who exposed all.
Reaching the hall – funny how the company always managed to smell like paper and ink - she passed Grace the receptionist, behind her covered paper desk, and waved at her before moving through the carpeted corridor to the last door to the left. You know that feeling when entering a crowded place and for that brief moment all heads turned to look at you? This was Claire´s life every day.
Luckily, the boardroom was not at its peak yet as she noticed some faces missing - her boss being one of those -and also recognizing with relief one of the features there she made her way to the closest chair to him. As the chair was moved from its place and she carefully sat on it, the tangled mess of curls of her young co-worker peaked out, leaving his close scrutiny of the personal processor that he held cautiously in his hands.
"Do you ever stop working?" Claire asked in a teasing mood.
Micah rolled his eyes. "And do you ever remember to eat something?" Replied the technopath as he caught Claire casting a longing gaze to the bagel he had placed in front of him. "Go on, eat it. I´m full anyway," he offered.
Claire smiled genuinely and promptly took the delicious bakery product with eager hands.
"Have I ever said how much I love you?" she said between bites.
"Well yes, every time I let you steal my food," he sneakily admitted, placing his new prototype on the table. Claire stopped chewing, glaring at him, but then settling for a small reprimand on his shoulder upon realizing the small smile that Micah was poorly trying to hide from her.
"Well it's true." She finally said with a grin as she resumed eating her bagel.
Micah Sanders, son of the late Nicky Sanders and nephew of the senator Tracy Strauss – who made public their bond a few years ago - was one of the young prodigies that the new company had so far. Being one of the youngest member of the institution, Micah soon worked his way through the company until becoming head of the new technologies department, his vast knowledge in both technological and communication systems, along with his experience regarding coordination of teams and handling hostile situations – it was well known that he had been the instigator of the REBEL team and was also rumored that his incorporation here had been also as a compensation for the past government treatment; nobody wanted to mess with a person capable of exposing all the dirty secrets - had been a plus.
Anyway, being the closest to Claire's age and having shared more than one adventure together – she was ecstatic when they found out the identity of the enigmatic REBEL - Micah soon wound his way into Claire heart. He was her best friend here and one of the few people she could freely talk; a person with whom to be herself.
"So I heard you are living with Sylar now?"
Also a wild gossipier.
"WHAT-" She sputtered "-No!" She exclaimed gaining the attention of a few boarding members. Claire flushed, embarrassed, and cast an apologetic smile; then she turned, throwing daggers at Micah with her eyes. "No!" She whispered.
"Well that's not what Peter said in his twitter." He announced, amusingly waving his tablet at her.
"Oh for god sake give me that!" Claire snatched the device from Micah and began to scroll his dash until she stopped, gaping at what she saw.
IthinkIcanFly: Gabe & Claire living together can u imagine? XD
All that mush and baby-talk with Annabel has finally wrecked his head!
The job of becoming a total house-husband had left the empath with a lot of time on his hands, such that lately he had joined the legions of Internet-navigators; of course that it was one thing to spread links of kittens videos and quite another to expose her like this.
She gave back Micah's toy, huffing angrily.
"I'm not living with him I'm living next to him!" She hissed.
"Who's living with you, Claire?" Asked Noah, casually standing behind the two. Claire's face turned pale but she covered it by ducking her head and casting a warning look to Micah, then she rose from her seat.
"Hey dad," faintly smiling, she awkwardly embraced her father. "We were not expecting you today." She cursed herself for not noticing him earlier; Noah drew his eyebrows together in confusion.
"Well today there is a school play and I wanted to see Kate in it." Claire inwardly grimaced. Kate was the four year old daughter of Noah and Lauren, and she was his entire universe. She let go of him and tried to collect herself. If only he had been more in her childhood as well.
"How are they?" She asked, glancing down.
"Good, very good." He smiled briefly. "Lauren told me you finally found an apartment." Yep, their relationship was so strained now that Noah had to find from Lauren how she was doing. "But, she never mentioned that you moved in with someone; I didn't know you were dating somebody," he said, not-so-subtly curious.
Claire was certain of a irrefutable fact: no matter in what fucked up dimension they were in or how tense their relationship had become, Noah Bennet held a grudge of astronomical proportions with Sylar and if Noah knew about her current situation, he would not stop until one of them were dead. Although her dad was tenacious, Sylar held all the power on his side; Noah wouldn't stand a chance and she was not ready to see another of her parents die at the hands of that monster.
"Oh you known how people talk around here." She directed one look a Micah, who shrugged innocently. "Lyle came to help me with the moving and somehow the rumor that I was living with someone spread like a plague."
Fortunately her dad would never check on Peter's tweeter account or question Lyle, who he rarely saw or spoke to anymore. Claire tried to give her best innocent and sweet expression. Noah seemed to be dubitative of her statement but was cut out of his reverence when one of his fellow co-workers called him from across the table. He nodded and said goodbye to her, rounding the large table and sitting next to the other agent. Claire breathed a relieved breath from the sudden disturbance.
That was close.
She sat again and turned to her friend, digging her nail in his arm from under the table.
"Ouch Claire!" He protested, rubbing the affected spot. "What is your problem?"
She narrowed her eyes, not believing what her life had become this past week. "My problem is all of you!" She spoke in hushed tones gesturing with her head around, conscious of Noah's calm presence. "Seriously why is everybody acting so casual about this? It's not even funny."
"Oh it is funny," Micah´s grin was erased when she again dug her nail in his arm. "Ouch! OK you win!" He relented, scooting his arm from her, and then sighed. "But seriously Claire, living next to Sylar can't be that bad."
"Not bad?" She lifted her eyebrows incredulously. "He harasses me every time!"
"Tell me what he did to you."
"Well he-" she stopped, coming up with nothing "-it's not what he does, it's the way he looks at me as he does it." She huffed.
Micah gave her a blank stare. "And how does he look at you?"
"You know, that creepy intense gaze with his," she wiggled to her eyebrows, "and his stupid smirk trying to be all suave." She grimaced disgusted more for show than anything. "It's unnerving."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe 'that look', as you call it, is for an entirely different reason from what you think?" Micah warily asked.
"Like what?" She said confused. "Like he is trying to sell me something? Don't worry he already did that and I didn't even see his face."
"No, not that!" Micah said exasperated. Thinking it over, he sighed and softened his expression. "Claire, you should know that-"
"Claire, glad you're here; Micah good to see you too," greeted Dr. Madeline Gibson as she took a seat next to them.
Claire turned from Micah, happy to see Dr Gibson – her boss - there.
"Madeline, hi!" She said exuberantly. Micah gave her a nod, looking conflicted. "Yeah I couldn't miss this-" Claire frowned "-…party."
Madeline laughed. "Board meetings are not my forte either."
"OK people, we're going to start," announced a rounded and middle-aged man motioning to his assistant, who promptly started to pass folders among the board members.
"What were you going to say earlier?" Asked Claire while curiously peaking through the papers.
"Er- nothing," Micah smiled, flustered; "just that Gabriel would never hurt you."
"Are you 'team Sylar' now?" Teased Claire over her shoulder and she turned again. Focusing in the reports. 'Seems like the situation in Boston is over now', she read. "Peter said those same words to me the other day," She commented distracted.
"I'm on nobody's team, I´m just stating a fact."
She stopped reading to glance at him trying to figure him out. He wasn't laughing or snickering, he was serious.
"Whatever."
This opportunity could not be wasted; her job was a sanctuary from Sylar-thoughts and she was planning on submerging in it. No one, especially a close friend like Micah, would ruin that.
Claire closed her door with a long sigh. Kicking away her high heels, she let the wooden surface of her apartment floor soothe her tired feet. God, little things like this made her life.
It had been a long, although promising, day at the office. The meeting had gone pretty well, considering the incredible nature of it. The protest and riots seemed to continue its decline both in number and volume. Still, people who resented meta-humans were there. There were cases of discrimination, but fortunately the people who understood exceeded to those singled minded. Intolerance could only last for so long, they reasoned. Human-beings were prone to see that the coexistence of two species almost identical could be possible. What was best is that other countries around the globe seemed to be adopting the new company position of stopping pursuit of these people and trying to help – more nicer that the one of us, one of them motto - and Claire was proud to admit that the large orientation program they were implementing had a lot to do with it.
With the detection of abilities put into service in newborns at hospitals now, they could start to work with the child at a young age, assisting them during the most conditioning stage of their lives – childhood - and bringing tools to help assimilate their extraordinary circumstances - even if they had yet to manifest their power - to serve them during their transition. Claire recalled when she had first learned that she had an ability – although then she didn't know what to call it - and it produced feelings of fear and uncertainty about her own human-being condition – she had thought she was a freak - and it had been a very traumatic experience, to say the least. It still kind of was.
This new generation of specials children wouldn't have to go through all that with their help. Also, it was important for them to highlight the role of the family in all this, especially in cases of families without the gene present in the parents but which have a special child. Coaching them was extremely important; it help the kid develop a strong bond with their relatives and it helped to eliminate any feeling of isolations for both parties.
So this is normally why Claire spent most of her time in the company working with young kids, while Dr Madeline supervised and talked with the parents.
It was the perfect job seeing as she loved kids. And Dr. Madeline was an excellent professional. She had won her prestige helping in serious cases of a vast range from dissociative disorders to severe post traumatic cases in specials. She had also been a police psychologist, which explained her orientation towards those kinds of cases.
Too bad she had not really known Sylar; she would have had a feast with that one, locking him up.
Particularly today, Claire had met a young boy who could move objects with his mind.
Ugh telekinesis. She had a bad concept of that one.
Wait… she was thinking of him again… great, Claire, just great.
But the kid was anything like him; he was extremely shy, reserved, and very cute. His family had abandoned him at a young age and he had been taken to a foster house. That is until they discovered he had an ability. The institution didn't have the installations or methods to provide for a child gifted so it came into the company´s reign or, more acutely, its legislation. Seeing as the poor kid didn't have a guardian, it made it all the more difficult and finding a home for him was even more so. So they took him to the day care of the company, which had been build for situations like this a few months ago, and Claire took care of him. He was adorable and very intelligent for his age; a truly gifted kid.
The games and giggles made her forget for the time being of 'who will not be named' and it also served to relax her mood – she was absolutely certain she had lost weight in the last few days just from stress - and, of course, it also resulted in a general state of fatigue.
She was damn tired.
Dragging her feet across the floor, she entered her room, stripping off her jacket and in the process raising and stretching the sore muscles of her upper body. She sighed satisfactorily upon hearing the pops of her joints and placed her jacket over her beautiful, new, and probably-more comfortable-than-the-sofa bed.
Fuck that, she was going to sleep in her bed tonight.
Storming, she went for the couch and stripped off the blankets, going for her room again and placing the bedding there.
Balance, now everything was good in the world. Well almost.
She wouldn't despise a good meal right now; the problem was that her fatigue also spread to her qualities as a cook. Her mother Sandra had always spoiled her with delicious home cooking dishes – no wonder why she had been a little rounded then - and after, in campus, she had existed mostly by take-outs and junk food –it was the true college experience - and then with Angela she had been spoiled all over again with gourmet like meals, an indoor chef, and the occasional-but-not-any-less-weird case in what Angela cooked – she was full of surprises.
So basically her life consisted of a repetitive patron. It was take-out time again.
A soft knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie. "Claire honey, are you there?"
Claire smiled upon recognizing the voice and went for the door. "Hey Rose! How are you?" Her new best neighbor was standing there.
"Um, you a little tired?" she asked with an impish smile.
Claire grimaced a little. She must look like hell. "Yeah it was a long day at the office."
"Well I will go right to the chase then: look honey, my stove isn't working again, and I thought maybe I can make you go through my invitation for dinner while I," she revealed a plastic container from behind her back, "cook. What do you think?"
"Honestly," Claire arched a brow as she promptly said, "you saved my life."
Soon the smell of different ingredients cooking in sweet butter flooded the air to create a delicious mix which was sensed by Claire olfactory cells to be processed and produce more saliva.
"God it been so long since I've eaten enchiladas," Claire said, almost moaning from her seating place over the counter. This was nice; it reminded her of simpler times when she would talk to her mother about boys and cheerleading while the older woman was cooking.
"Well that's weird, since you're from Texas," Rose pointed out while stirring the sauce.
"Yeah well my mother used to do it all the time but then I moved out to college and well my grandmother wasn't very keen to Texas food or Mexican/Spanish food, for that matter," she explained.
"Let me guess: she was more the caviar kind of food."
"And the drink-champagne-until-everything-is-shiny." That made both of them giggle, but Rose quickly sobered up again.
"Don't be so bad." She reprimanded, although Claire was still chuckling and she couldn't contain her smile, too. "I´m sure she is a lovely lady."
Claire dropped from the counter and reached for the spoon to taste the sauce. "Let just say she is fine and leave it at that." She was in a good mood to talk about her grandmother now. "This is good."
"Well cooking always was my favorite thing to do, and I enjoy it even more when I can cook for someone else." she said conspiratorially. "Gabriel has a thing for my pie."
Claire flinched while stirring the sauce but was glad to see Rose didn't catch it. "Yeah, I can kind of tell from the other day."
"He is such a good man," Rose continued.
Claire almost spilled the beans right there but she refrained from doing it when she saw the warm smile in Rose; she really seemed to care for the monster.
Instead she decided for a different approach. "How long have you know him?" Collecting information; oh yeah.
"Well my memory isn't very good but I think maybe two years now," she frowned; "Or maybe three."
So Sylar has an entire building for two, possibly three, years and she is finding out now? Why did nobody tell her a thing about this before?
Rose continued, unaffected by Claire's thoughts. "It's funny but when I moved here I lived in an apartment from the second floor; the building wasn't very crowded so there was plenty of room. Then as the time passed I got to know more of the quiet young man from the fifth; we bonded very quickly, he is a great listener" She said, complimenting. "Then one day he came, telling me that he had reconditioned one of the apartment from the fifth just for me, which these up here are much bigger and nicer than mine down there, I refused to move since my pension couldn't pay for an apartment bigger, but he told me that I didn't have to worry for any of that, that the costs would be the price that ran for his own; which is low."
Claire frowned, that is not a very Sylar-ish thing.
"Why did he do something like that?" She asked very curiously. "I mean, you were living in the same building already."
Rose smiled warmly. "He said he wanted to keep the people who he cared the most very close to him." Her eyes were shining with tears. "He is the closest to a son that I have here." She softly confessed.
Claire stayed silent; there was no sneaky retort that could pass from her closed throat.
Rose sighed and shook her head, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Did you hear that?" She asked after a moment.
"Um", apparently not; Claire's mind had left the building.
Rose went to the door and slapped her face upon recognizing the sound. "Oh I completely forgot! Today is Thursday."
"Well yeah." Claire nodded.
"Thursday is the day I cook for Gabriel." She explained "But seeing I'm here and my stove is broken - Claire would you mind if I tell Gabriel to come over here?"
Claire stared at Rose; what could she say? No, keep your psycho-adopted-son away from me? That would be too crude to say after hearing Rose's declaration; so challenging to every fiber of her being and her common sense, that she gave her a court nod.
Already dreading the consequences.
Rose mouthed a 'thank you' and opened the door. Sylar was in front of Rose´s apartment knocking softly on the wooden door.
"Gabriel I'm right here," Rose announced. Sylar turned around, frowning slightly upon seeing the older woman in the other apartment.
"I thought it was our dinner day." He carefully said.
"I'm sorry honey my stove broke off and I completely forgot." Rose explained.
"Is OK." He smiled sadly. "I understand." Looking forlorn, he started to walk away.
"Gabriel! I spoke to Claire and she was OK with inviting you here," Rose quickly said.
He turned slowly, lifting a both eyebrows. "Really?"
Rose smiled. He seemed like a kid who was told that Christmas came earlier. "Yeah" She gestured to the door "Come here."
Sylar cautiously made his way to Claire's door and followed Rose into it. Claire was standing near the kitchen, her arms crossed.
"Hi Claire." He greeted, softly smiling.
"Hi… Gabriel."
God, this was so awkward that she was tempted to throw herself from the window.
Rose broke the ice.
"Look Claire, Gabriel brought the wine," She said eagerly pointing to the bottle that Sylar held in his hand.
Sylar lifted the item. "Pinot," he explained, "Is my favorite."
Go figure.
I know that Sylar in awesome and ZQ is a god among men, but if you're reading this you're probably a Sylaire shipper and Sylar is only half of the couple so… where is our love for Claire's character?
Where this came from? Well I heard they were making a Heroes's rewatch in one of the Heroes's communities on livejournal and I thought why not?(a stupid move from my part now I see) So as I was reading a few of the comments there I had to immediately stop myself from going further upon seeing the immensurable bashing over Claire's character, rather they may be a little biased considering she gets in the way of their OTP –something I found incredible childish seeing as Sylar is shipped with all the characters and ultimately you would have to hate on everybody :/- but still made me ponder, there must be people who liked her and well Sylaire is half Claire,
So Sylaire shippers what good qualities do you liked in her character?
As for me, well I always loved how loyal she stood in her principles =P