Merry Christmas to all my readers who celebrate the holiday, and a very Happy New Year!

As everyone who reads Reprise is already aware, I goofed when I said this chapter would be about Edward; it's actually the next one and I got ahead of myself. To make it up to you I'll write that chapter before going back to Reprise, since I know you want to find out what happens to our favorite sparkly vamp. Your patience is much appreciated (assuming you are in fact being patient rather than cussing me).

Chapter 6: Along for the Ride

Peter, Claire, Matt & Daphne – Pinehearst, before the explosion

"Claire, I want you to leave with Parkman and Daphne."

"No! I want to help you find Bella, not run away!"

"Fine," Daphne agreed; then, to Claire: "I'll get Matt out and come back for you."

"Thanks," Peter told her, "for everything." Then he ran in one direction, Daphne and Matt in another, the slipstream of their departure whipping Claire's hair into her face and obscuring her vision. She brushed it aside just in time to see Peter phase through the nonfunctional elevator doors, and then Daphne was back.

"Ready?" Without waiting for an answer she grabbed Claire's hand and took off; Claire expected to be dragged but found that as long as she kept her legs pumping she was able to move as fast as Daphne. She did not however have much control over her direction – Daphne was steering and Claire was just along for the ride.

If Claire had been able to control where she went, she wouldn't have let Daphne take her back to the Petrelli mansion. The door blew open in front of them and they came to a dead halt in front of Angela, who peered with raised eyebrows over the rim of her teacup at the new arrivals.

"What are we doing here?" Claire demanded; she'd hoped she wouldn't have to deal with her grandmother again.

"You're waiting here for Peter and Bella," Daphne informed her. "I'm not running a babysitting service." Claire wanted to argue, but Daphne cut her off before she'd made a sound. "Gotta run." Then she bolted, leaving Claire alone with Angela Petrelli.

"So-" Angela's teacup returned with a soft clink to its saucer "-I don't suppose it's any use asking where you and Peter have been for the last few months, is it?"

Claire sighed. "Forks, Washington is where we've been. Bella and I graduated high school there and we're going back for summer vacation, but we'll be somewhere else for college in the fall, I guess."

"'Somewhere else'? You don't know which school you'll be attending yet?"

It sounded like an innocent question, but Claire heard – and was aggravated by – the subtle disapproval in Angela's tone. It was this constant condescension (among other things) that made the Petrelli matriarch so hard to tolerate. Swallowing an angry retort, Claire only shrugged. "We've had other stuff going on." Vampires, werewolves, Arthur's minions…you name it.

"I see. And Peter? Surely he doesn't intend to stay in Forks after you and Isabella leave."

"I think he intends to go wherever Bella goes," Claire said with a smirk at Angela's reaction – her face twisted as though she had sunk her teeth into a lemon. Serves her right. She's just mad because Bella is someone she isn't sure how to control, and because Peter cares about her so much. Claire bit her lip, stifling a laugh as she recalled the confrontation that had almost erupted into a full-blown fight between the two Petrellis before Peter was satisfied that Angela had had nothing to do with Bella's abduction – only after he'd read her mind rather than taking her word for it. It wouldn't have surprised me if Angela had tried to get rid of Bella. Why does she have it in for her anyway? She doesn't know her well enough to have a real reason for not liking her…

Claire's musings were cut short when Peter teleported into the room with Bella and, much to Claire's dismayed amazement, Elle Bishop. "What is she doing here?"

Elle shot the other blonde an angry look but didn't seem to have the energy for a sarcastic comeback. She sank silently onto a chair's edge, rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands.

Eyeing her cautiously as if she were a wild animal that could spring into vicious action at any moment, Peter explained, "We broke her out of an underground cell in Pinehearst. There's something wrong with her-"

"Yeah, up here!" Claire tapped her forehead. "Is her ability still short circuiting too?"

Bella's eyes widened. "Yes! She keeps generating electricity whether she wants to or not, and it hurts her. How do you know about that?"

Claire rushed impatiently through the story of how Elle had broken into the Bennets' house in Costa Verde hoping to get Noah's help, and how she and Claire had ended up going to Pinehearst together. "…And we got there just in time to see Arthur throw Peter out the window, and you know what happened next."

"Right." Bella waved a dismissive hand. "The question is, what are we gonna do with her now?"

Elle raised her head, glaring. "Do with me?" she growled.

"Well, where do you want to go?" Peter asked her. "I can take you anywhere on the planet."

She considered it briefly; then, to Bella: "Where're you going?"

"I'm going home to Forks," Bella replied instantly. "So are Peter and Claire."

"Then it looks like I'm going to Forks, wherever the hell that is."

"No you're not," Claire snapped. "What makes you think we want you around indefinitely?"

"What makes you think I care what you want?" was Elle's sharp riposte. "I might not see eye to eye with Cheerleader Two, but she's able to block my power so it doesn't hurt anymore. As long as she can do that I'm sticking with her."

"Cheerleader Two? What is it with everyone assuming that just because Claire used to cheerlead and I'm her friend, it automatically means I'm a cheerleader?" Bella complained.

"Never mind that – just tell Elle you don't want her sticking with you. Better yet, quit blocking her power; that'll get rid of her!"

"But if I do that she'll be in pain! If I can help her, shouldn't I?" Anxiously biting her lip, Bella turned to Peter for advice.

He moved closer and lowered his voice to tell her, "Bella, I'm glad you want to help, but you should know that Elle Bishop is… She can be a handful."

Bella noted the pause, as if he had been about to say something else and changed his mind at the last second. "What do you mean by 'a handful'?" she queried warily.

"He means that she's a psycho!" Claire hissed.

"Yeah, I got the idea when we were locked up together that maybe she had a screw loose…or a bunch of screws." Bella's eyes darted from her angry best friend and boyfriend – who wasn't exactly angry but definitely unhappy with the situation – to Elle, who had slumped forward in her chair again. She remembered well enough the conclusion she'd reached about her one-time cellmate on her own – Elle Bishop was deadly, all right – but also how wounded and vulnerable she'd looked then. And of course Bella didn't need to remember how much worse Elle was now; that was right in front of her.

Then there was the fact that Elle was the only semi-friendly face Bella had seen during her forced stay in Pinehearst. Even if it had only been an alliance of convenience, not real friendship, it still meant something – too much for Bella to turn her back on Elle now. "Loose screws or no, it doesn't change the fact that Elle needs help and I don't think she has anyone else who can give it to her."

"What about Bob? Why hasn't he done anything for her?" Peter wondered aloud, inadvertently setting Elle off yet again.

"My father is dead!" The words stuck in her throat; saying them felt like yucking up a huge thorny ball of something. "You know that," she spat at Angela, who had watched the entire exchange up to this point like it was a TV show of some interest but no real importance. "After he died the first thing you did was fire me before his body had had time to get cold!"

"Obviously a wise decision – you don't seem particularly useful these days."

"You bitch!" Either forgetting that her power was inaccessible at the moment or intending to strangle Angela with her bare hands, Elle lunged at her…

…Only to be stopped by Peter grabbing her arms above the elbows and pinioning them behind her back. "Calm down!"

"Get off me!" she snarled, struggling although it was bound to be fruitless; Peter was stronger than her even without the physical deterioration resulting from her long captivity in Pinehearst and he had her in a position where she couldn't hit, kick, or bite him – not that Elle was so great at those sorts of things anyway, having relied exclusively on her ability until the day it turned on her.

"Peter, teleport her out of here!" Bella ordered.

"To where?"

"Your house in Forks!"

"Me too – someone has to make sure she doesn't burn the house down," Claire said acidly. She put her hand on Peter's shoulder, the way he did when he teleported someone with him and didn't have both hands full with restraining Elle, and then they were gone from the Petrelli mansion, into the dimly sunlit living room of the house that Peter and Claire called home.

With Angela out of sight, the fight left Elle and she sagged toward the floor; for a moment Peter's hold was all that kept her from falling. "You can let go now," she told him. He did so and she rubbed her arms, which had blotched an angry red where they had been locked in his super-strong grip. "What'd you do that for? It hurt!"

Peter watched her, if not impassively, then certainly unsympathetically. "I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"He could've done worse if he did," Claire interjected.

"-But why did I stop you from jumping my mother? Why d'you think?"

Elle opened her mouth – no doubt to say something characteristically sarcastic – and an electric impulse jolted through her. Her body went rigid and then she collapsed, twitching like a seizure victim.

Furious with himself for forgetting that this would happen when Elle was removed from Bella's blocking range, Peter quickly replaced Bella's now-defunct block on Elle's power. Then he lifted her limp form and transferred her as gently as possible to the couch – he might not like Elle, but neither did he hate her enough to leave her lying on the floor, where she'd passed out from the strain of channeling way more voltage than the human body was ever meant to handle for too long a time. "Bella was right," he murmured as he checked her pulse, "she does need help."

Claire made a noise of grudging assent; Elle needed help all right, but that didn't mean Claire had to be happy about having her around. "Maybe you can block her ability permanently," she suggested. "You'll need to anyway so you can go back for Bella – somehow I doubt she wants to stay with Angela."

"I'm not as good at blocking as Bella, but I'll try," Peter said doubtfully. "Should hold till I can bring her here to reinforce it anyway."

BPOV

When Peter teleported Elle away I blew my breath out in a sigh of relief – only to suck it back in when Angela Petrelli's scarlet-clawed hand clamped down on my shoulder. "Mrs. Petrelli!" I gasped, whirling to face her. "You scared me!"

"My apologies, dear." The words were mild enough, but there was a strange tension in her tone and eyes; I felt myself tensing up as well. "I need to speak with you alone, before Peter returns."

Whatever she has to say you don't want to hear it – this is bad, this is very bad, an agitated little voice chanted in the back of my mind. Ignoring it as best I could I asked, "About what?"

"I understand from Claire that you've become quite close to my son, correct?"

"That's correct," I said tersely, my nerves making me more formal than usual.

Angela pursed her lips. "I'll be frank with you, Miss Swan. I don't approve, and I want you to end your relationship with Peter."

Outraged, I threw Angela's hands off in a jerky, abrupt motion. "No way! I love Peter – I'm not breaking up with him just because you disapprove! It's none of your damn business anyway."

Using more strength than I would have guessed she had in her, Angela seized my upper arms, her long nails digging painfully into my skin. "How much do you know about me, Miss Swan?"

"I know you're hurting me," I grunted, wincing – what was up with Peter's parents' fondness for manhandling me? "And I know about how you tried to kill Arthur. Are you planning to force-feed me poison now and bury me in one of the back flowerbeds?" I wouldn't quite put it past her…

Brushing the question off as too ridiculous to bother answering – I wished I could assume it was ridiculous too – Angela continued, "So, I take it you do not know where my 'talents' lie?"

As a matter of fact I didn't but, wanting to wipe the smugness off Angela's face, I checked her over once more, this time utilizing my special sensitivity to the abilities of those around me. "Your dreams," I said triumphantly, enjoying her obvious surprise. "You're a precog."

"Yes I am, and I've seen your future, Miss Swan. I know what'll happen – what you'll become – so believe me when I say that Peter will be better off without you. Now if you love him as much as you claim to, how about you do him a favor and stay away from him."

Suddenly Angela's hands flew off me and were telekinetically pinned to her sides. "How about you don't say another word to her?"

My jaw dropped; I hadn't noticed Peter's arrival, but he'd obviously got here in time to hear what his mother told me and get mad about it.

"Peter, you don't understand-!"

"I understand perfectly, Mom. You don't want me with Bella and you'll say anything to get rid of her, won't you?"

"Peter…"

"No! I'm done listening to you! Bella, let's get out of here." I hurried over to him, and he gave his mother one last disgusted glance before sweeping me up and taking off at Daphne-speed.

Manhattan Island blurred past in seconds until we reached the Hudson River, but Peter didn't slow down; instead he leapt off the edge of a pier and flew on. I now had a good idea of how it would feel to be strapped to a rocket as it blasted off. The speed was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, but I knew Peter needed it – needed to work off his anger at Angela. I also knew that I was perfectly safe, so I just watched the ground pass far below and enjoyed the feeling of him holding me as we streaked through the sky toward home.