A burst of electricity exploded from Sylar's startled fingertips and the room was illuminated with dancing streaks of white. Ribbons of lightning shot out in every direction, the serrated beams seeking any source of electricity to ground it. A chandelier in the center of the dining room hummed and glowed ablaze before sparking and going out completely. The room briefly flashed with the scene of a dozen forms standing in shocked tableau, until the lights shorted with a hiss and crack, plummeting the room into total darkness. After a quiet moment, a figure in the corner illuminated a ball of red energy and the lights were restored. As the white spots disappeared from Sylar's dazzled eyes he was able to make out Ando as the source. Claire hand had instinctively grabbed Sylar's sleeve during their surprise, but she quickly let it go as soon as the lights came back on.

The sound of Claire dropping the bag in hand beside him finally broke through the silence.

"Godammit Sylar, what the hell was that for?" Suresh had popped up from his hiding place behind the couch. The stunned Claire and Sylar took in the sight before them. The number of surrounding faces grew slowly as figures emerged from behind bookcases and ornate wicker chairs.

Parkman appeared beside Suresh and brushed his pants off. "Is everyone ok?"

There were murmured groans in begrudged agreement from around the room. It seemed that many had leapt to the ground to avoid getting struck by stray lightning bolts. Sylar stood dumbfounded as he slowly placed his still-sparking hands in his pockets. It was surreal to see nearly his entire social sphere suddenly around him, when only seconds earlier he was anticipating total seclusion with Claire. He glanced briefly down to his left to catch Claire's expression. Seeing her mouth hanging agape and unblinking eyes, it occurred to him that he probably held the same shocked look. She returned his gaze, but then appeared to become aware her own expression when it transformed into anger, evidently recalling her recent revelation.

Sylar quickly took in their surroundings; the smartly-dressed group of Specials stood amid the pristine room of oriental carpets and tasteful decor. The open plan living room was tastefully decorated in candles and fresh auburn leaves. A variety of foods were piled on the kitchen counter and island to the left foyer. He spotted Hiro with Ando beside an antique buffet, while Micah, Tracy, and Molly were propped on the wide wicker couch. The rest of the group were scattered around the foyer and kitchen. Sylar was surprised to see Maya again. It seemed that she and Suresh must have recently rekindled their relationship. She eyed him dangerously, so Sylar was quick to avert his gaze.

Angela stepped out from behind a china cabinet. "For goodness sake, Gabriel, that was not necessary." She looked flustered. Static had shifted her normally immaculate hair into slight disarray.

Sylar's mouth was dry. Words became a tangle of strings, and he struggled to untie them. "Sorry, you... you startled us." He finally managed to spill out.

"We'll what the hell did you expect from a surprise party?" Parkman quipped angrily. He was rubbing a dark scorch mark from his sleeve; Sylar couldn't help but smirk slightly at this.

"We all thought you were with Peter." Suresh growled, "And you were supposed to meet him here half an hour ago." He added, suspiciously.

Sylar's head spun. Think quick. He felt dizzy and nauseous, a sensation he hadn't experienced since taking Claire's power as his own. Within ten minutes his perfect escape with his lover turned into his worst nightmare. (Well, there were people here, so maybe not THE worst). The one consolation was that there was no sign of Claire's family.

"Sorry, we got caught up in traffic." Claire piped in before Sylar could muster something.

"I left you both nearly a dozen messages," Angela added, "but no matter. The important thing is that you're here now."

Claire looked down at her phone. Sylar peered sideways and saw what she had evidently seen as well: no missed calls, no messages. Uh oh, he thought. I may have had something to do with that... The old Sylar in him screamed to fight or run or cause havoc, but he kept these thoughts at bay. Instead, he removed his jacket and moved away from the foyer to join those standing in the kitchen. Claire followed suit, but kept on her coat. She hugged her arms around her sides in an anxious posture, only to move from this position when Emma handed her a glass of wine.

"Well, were is he?" Parkman added.

"Who?"

"Where's Peter?" Emma piped in with concern. Sylar caught her worried gaze. He thought that she looked absolutely lovely in her pleated skirt and pearl necklace decorating her front. Other than Claire and Peter, he considered her his closest friend so it would pain him to have to lie to her about her own .

"Uh, he just wanted to go for a quick walk. I tried to talk him out of it but he insisted on getting some air. He said he may be a while." I hope.

"Claire, why on earth did you come with Sylar? You were all the way in Virginia, Hiro could have picked you up like he did with the rest of us." Angela inquired.

"Uh...We wanted to make food together at his place for the party!" Claire raised up the duffel bag from the floor and put on a forced grin. Before Sylar could register what was happening, Angela reached down and took Claire's bag and brought it to Parkman, who then placed it amid the stacks of food and drinks on the island.

Sylar's eyes darted to where Parkman was digging through his duffel bag. Parkman pulled out a casserole dish covered in aluminum foil. Great, Sylar thought, there goes my lasagna. He had saved their uneaten meal from the other night.

"Here's the wine!" The cop was holding two turn of the half-century Rieslings that Sylar had been saving for months until this special day. The back of Sylar's neck burned with rage and it took picturing the dead city not to send a candle into Parkman's snooping neck. It infuriated him to see Parkman invading his personal space, digging into something that was supposed to be his and Claire's. (Although, now that he thought about it, he had technically invaded Parkman's personal space when he possessed his body and banged his wife).
His and Claire's. That concept, which had recently become so naturally real, was suddenly starting to feel foreign to him. It was upsetting to think that those two words, which had just begun to fit together as perfectly as the clasp of their own hands, could become so fleeting now. Only moments earlier these words promised an eternity together. Now he wasn't so sure. The words 'Paradise Lost' briefly fluttered across his thoughts and made him shiver. If only he had Hiro's power to stop Peter from exposing this truth and things could be different.

Only that they wouldn't be.

He still would have betrayed Claire' trust. Used her. The only difference would be she would remain oblivious to his deceit. Instead, now with the knowledge of how she reacted, he would always question their resilience after a blow like this.

"Hmm.." Parkman held up a small jar and raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Claire may have packed some chocolate sauce of the erotic variety. This was news to Sylar, and would have delighted him if it was not so mortifying right now. From the corner of his eye, Sylar saw a petite blond flush crimson. It seemed like it was his turn to weave their cover story. "Haha, yea. That's a gag gift as part of Pete's birthday present. An inside joke from our time in the dead city. We found this empty chocolate shop there, you see, and, well, it's a long story. You probably wouldn't get it."

"Right." Parkman added. If Sylar had had the fortune long ago to have ripped Parkman's power from his skull, he was certain that right now he would be reading impure theories about himself and Peter. He shuddered at the idea, but at least it kept Claire out of the picture.

"Is he coming soon?" Emma asked, pacing the room and rubbing at her hands anxiously. Sylar rarely saw Peter now without Emma, so the separation and anticipation was probably killing her.

Sylar turned to her. "Uh, I'm not sure. He said he just wanted to mull something over, so he may be a while. I told him to hurry, though." He lied, feeling ill to his stomach. For the second time this night he felt legitimately concerned about the fragility of his relationships. If Peter doesn't show up soon, or at all, he would likely lose everyone on his side. He would be legitimately alone, once again. The thought brought up the taste of bile to his throat.

Angela clasped her hands together and regained her poise. "Well, no matter. You heard Gabriel, Peter could be here any minute so back to positions."

"I'm on watch!" Micah called out as he leapt over the couch and ran to the foyer window.

"Claire, let me get your coat. " Angela reached with an outstretched hand.

Claire hugged her body at her waist. "Actually, I'm pretty chilly, so I thought I'd keep it on."

"Honestly dear, it's impolite to wear a coat indoors. Plus you can warm up by the fire in the parlor."

"Really, I'm fine." She smiled with eyes that screamed. The room grew silent again as everyone watched her odd reaction with curiosity.

Angela's patience seemed to be waning. "Claire, honestly, would you take that coat off already? You don't need to be so difficult." She reached out her hand to take it, but Claire turned to Sylar and looked petrified. He sincerely wanted to help her but couldn't read what was wrong.

"I... I can't. The zipper got caught on my dress."

"Ok, well let me help you." Angela reached for her sleeve, but Claire pulled it away and brought her arm across her chest again.

"Actually, it may pull off the dress too. I can manage on my own." She tried to move back toward the door, but Angela grasped her arm again.

"Alright dear, I understand, best to be discrete." Angela ceded and pointed towards the back hall. "Why don't you just step into the guest room and see what you can do?"

Claire nodded, then turned to Sylar. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she muttered quietly.

"Sure."

"In private?"

"Right now?'

"Yes, right now!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

This was ridiculous. Did she really want to talk about his indiscretion now, of all times? They needed to play it safe, but here she wanted to get their inevitable fight (or break up?) over with. A scene was the last thing they needed. Before Sylar could discretely pry further, she turned her back to him and raced to the nearby hallway. Sylar waited until she disappeared around the corner before following, keeping himself at a safe distance. Claire turned to the first bedroom on the right. Giving her a moment in the event she would lunge back, he carefully knocked on the door. The few moments of silence that followed felt like an eternity. He dreaded what truth he would face on the other side. The tightness in his throat made it harder to breathe. When he finally heard her mutter an approval to enter, he gently pushed open the door.

Sylar walked into the immaculate guest room and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight. There standing in a tall black boots, looking absolutely miserable, was a cheerleader.

"Don't you dare say anything. I will murder you." She growled.

He took a deep breath to suppress a bellowing laugh that threatened to erupt. The tension tickled his throat. "I haven't said a word."

Her wool sweater coat lay in a pile on the bed beside her. "I need you to quickly go grab me my bag from the car so I can change."

There was a flash of déjà vu of the red uniformed girl running from him down an empty hallway and into the cement bleachers. However, before him stood not the petrified and fierce teenager from his memory, but his lover with a delicate hand resting on the sinuous curve of her hip. As he stared in awe, he couldn't help but think of how amazing her bare legs looked with that skirt, and was surprised to find himself suddenly feeling very aroused.

"Claire, why... why are you wearing your old cheerleader uniform?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, that it was."

She looked absolutely sullen. If the Liam McKinnon indiscretions hadn't been so fresh her mind and placed her wild cat nature at risk of emergence, he would have run over to her to comfort her in his arms without any hesitation. Instead he stayed at a safe distance near the door.

She looked down at his feet. "I did this for you, you know."

"Thank you. It is amazing."

Claire crossed her arms over her chest, obscuring Union Wells High School lettering. "Not now."

"You have no idea how sexy you are right now."

"Shut up."

"I'm being completely serious!"

"Fine, but I'm still furious with you."

"Claire, you can be furious with me as much as you want, but that still won't stop me from wanting to pull you onto that bed and making love to you right now. Surprise party or not."

Claire gave a resigned sigh and sat down roughly on the edge of the bed. The plume of her uniform spread around her like a dancer. Even in her state Sylar could see her grace, and finally understood why should would take on such a conventional hobby.

"This is humiliating. All of this." Her eyes began to swell with tears, threatening to ruin the makeup that had she had committed so much time perfecting at his apartment earlier that night. That moment felt like days ago now.

"I know." Sylar approached a bit closer and crouched to her level. Taking a risk, he placed a hand on her bare knee, and was relieved when she didn't flinch. "But so far we are doing ok. Right now no one has any idea."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded slowly without averting his gaze.

Claire wiped away a hint of a tear. "How did we fuck this up so much? I thought tomorrow was the 8th for his party. If only my stupid phone didn't break..."

"What's done is done. We'll just play along and help with the party, and it will be like nothing ever happened."

"OK, but please just help me now! I need that bag I left in the car. All my clothes are in there."

"Aw, do you have to change?"

"SYLAR!"

She glared at him. For such a petite frame, in such an adorable outfit, she could still be terrifying.

He stood up straight. "Of course. I'll go grab it right now. And Claire?"

"What?"

"I just want you to know that I'm so, so sorry." He tried to read her gaze, but it was same cold expression he saw he evening prior when she gave him permission to punish her assailant. His heart constricted at her silence, but understood that this pain was what he deserved.

Sylar quietly exited the room, leaving his homecoming queen alone in her refuge. At least they communicated, and she didn't dismiss him completely. The cheerleader was now completely at his mercy. She depended on him, and so if he could be her hero just for this small act, then perhaps he would be one small step closer to her forgiveness.
Sylar made his way back to main area where the rest of the group was still preparing for Peter's arrival. He would try to get Claire's bag as quickly as possible, but while he was outside he thought he would keep an eye out for Peter and coax the guest of honor into attending his own surprise party. While part of him wanted to punch Peter for giving him the keys to the place on the one evening that everyone would be there, he realized that Peter was probably just as oblivious to the event as they were. Sylar walked across to the foyer discretely, but just as he grasped the door handle her felt Angela's hand on his shoulder.

"Gabriel, we were just saying how thankful we are that you finally arrived," Angela chirped, "We thought we would have a party without a cake."

"Cake?"

You did bring it, didn't you? Honestly, Gabriel, I spoke about it just yesterday."

"Of. Course. It's in the car." Fuck fuckity fuck. Sylar's mind raced a thousand miles a second.

"Uh, yea, I'll go get it. Um, hey Hiro, can you help me outside for a second? Just need an extra hand with the bags."

Claire would have to wait. She wouldn't like it, but he had to find a way to stop this web of untruths from unraveling. At least that she would understand. He rubbed his temple uncomfortably and felt again the unfamiliar dizziness overwhelming in his system.

This was going to be one long night.