"Where are we?"

Sylar glanced at Shadow as she stepped out the passenger door. "Upstate New York," he replied shortly.

Shadow gazed around the landscape, glad to be out of the confines of the car. The ride to – wherever they were – had only taken an hour, but it felt much longer because of the silent tension between them. Sylar hadn't really wanted to bring her, but she had insisted, so he quietly fumed the whole way here.

'Here' happened to be a quaint little farm house, the only structure for miles. Shadow almost asked if they were at the right place. Why would a regenerist live in the middle of nowhere?

Sylar slammed the car door harder than was necessary; before the sound faded the car had dissipated into the nothingness surrounding them. He turned to Shadow, merely staring at the girl with expressionless eyes.

"I can't concentrate," she confessed quietly.

The dark-and-shadows car had been hers, of course. Sylar had been all for grand theft auto until Shadow offered to make them some wheels, further impressing the extent of her abilities. Sylar wasn't entirely sure how it ran, but brought them from city point A to country point B. He still couldn't believe these two had settled down here, of all places. It was an entertaining thought, though.

Sylar sighed and grabbed Shadow's hand, noting the sweaty palm and lip-biting. He pulled her toward the house and she followed willingly, if not a bit reluctantly.

"Nervous much?" he teased.

Shadow bit harder, too high-strung to comment on his unorthodox brand of humor. "Sylar, you haven't even told me who we're going to see. I know I wanted this, but you are still about to slice open my skull. Excuse me for not being Miss Cool, Calm, and Collected," her voice rose at the end, edging with hysteria.

He squeezed her hand. "You can still back out," he reminded her.

That steadied her resolve. "No," she replied firmly.

Together they climbed the wooden steps, stopped by a screen door. Sylar stepped down one, placing himself behind Shadow; even then, he had a few inches on her.

"Knock," he instructed gently.

"Why me?" she demanded. Sylar heard the panic in her voice and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her neck.

"You're the one who insisted we come," he whispered, sending a shiver across her skin.

Shadow reluctantly raised a closed fist, hesitated, and knocked quickly. Almost immediately she heard commotion from inside and a holler that whoever it was would "Be right there!" Shadow swallowed audibly and Sylar chuckled, smirking. Faint footsteps approached from inside the house and then the door was flung open.

Framed in the doorway stood a petite female, long golden hair shining in the mid-morning sun. She didn't appear much older than Shadow, but lacked the innocence of youth Shadow still possessed. The girl had seen much more than Shadow ever would. Despite this, her eyes sparkled and a perky smile stretched her mouth wide as she looked at Shadow.

"Hey there, can I help . . .?" her greeting trailed off, her gazed fixed on the person over Shadow's shoulder. The girl's demeanor hardened and her eyes cooled.

"Sylar," she nodded. "What a surprise."

"Hey, Claire," he said casually. "Long time no see." Shadow glanced over her shoulder; he wore a smile that seemed reserved for this Claire girl alone, a private joke shared between them. Shadow felt a flare of jealousy. Who was this chick, anyway?

Claire regarded him, showing something like distaste. "Indeed," she said slowly. Her gaze darted from Sylar to Shadow and back. "To what do I owe this unexpected drop on my front porch?"

"This is Shadow," Sylar replied, gesturing. "Shadow, this is Claire, to whom I owe my infinitely extended lifespan."

Claire scowled while Shadow looked shocked. "You're the regenerist?" she asked, eyes wide.

The scowl deepened. "Yes . . ." Claire responded slowly. Her focus returned to Sylar. "Sylar, what are you doing here? What's this all about?"

Sylar took a deep breath. For Shadow, he reminded himself. "Claire, we have a problem."

"And?"

"And we need your help."

Serial-killer-Sylar asking for her help. Claire glanced to the sky just to make sure it wasn't falling. She shook her head. "No can do, Sylar. Now get off my steps and back to where you came from."

"Please," Shadow found her voice. Claire paused, taking in the girl. "Please, you have to," she begged in desperation. "I'm out of ideas, and he only barely agreed to bring me here, to you."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "This was your idea?" She looked to Sylar for confirmation.

Sylar nodded. "All her, cheerleader."

"Cheerleader?" Claire smiled sadly. "Not for a long time, Sylar."

He nodded, understanding. "At least hear her out. She's determined to do this."

Claire looked between the two again and sighed as she stepped back, swinging the door wide. "Come on in, then," she drawled.

Shadow entered the house, offering Claire a small smile as she moved past. Sylar followed, but Claire seized his arm and stopped him. Her eyes were shards of ice.

"Why us, Sylar?"

"I think you'll understand once she explains it."

Her grip tightened. "Am I going to regret this?"

"I hope not," he answered honestly.

"You don't get any favors," Claire reminded him. "I owe you nothing."

He pried her hand from his arm and walked into the house. "I know, Claire. I know."

* * * * * *

The accepted glasses of lemonade sat untouched on the kitchen table, failing to distract from the heavy, uncomfortable silence in the room. Shadow kept shooting glances at Sylar, who only looked back with a mildly bored expression. Claire sat across from Shadow and seemed to be studying the younger girl with a bit more interest than she had displayed on the steps. Shadow shifted uncomfortably under the blonde's scrutiny and sent Sylar pleading eyes.

Sylar cleared his throat. "So. Where's lover-boy?"

Claire finally removed her gaze from Shadow and winced. "I really wish you wouldn't call him that."

He smirked. "Force of habit."

"He's at work, but he should be home soon," Claire said, glancing at the clock. "Why does he need to be here anyway?"

"I have a theory, and he can help."

Claire frowned. "You aren't giving me much to go on, Sylar."

He glanced at Shadow, quietly sitting and watching their exchange with her raven hair falling in her face. "We'll tell you everything once lover-boy arrives."

Shaking her head, Claire turned her attention to Shadow. "So. It's Shadow, right?"

Shadow nodded once. "Yeah."

"What do you do?"

Shadow looked startled. "What do you mean?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Please. Sylar doesn't go out of his way for anyone. I'm smarter than I look – you're special. Meaning you must have an ability."

Shadow dropped her gaze to the table. "I can manipulate darkness and shadows," she admitted quietly.

Claire's eyes widened slightly. "Wow. That's powerful stuff."

Shadow shrugged, chewing her lip once more.

"So," Claire tried again. "Where are you from?"

A slight smile ghosted across Shadow's face. "Hell," she answered. Seeing the skeptical look in Claire's eyes, Shadow elaborated. "Hell, Michigan. I moved to NYC a couple years ago."

"Oh, the city. I used to know some people from there." She glanced at Sylar, exchanging another one of those private-joke looks. "Exciting place, isn't it?"

"I don't get out much," Shadow shrugged.

Sylar cocked his head suddenly, halting the conversation. "Finally," he muttered. He looked up at Claire. "Guess who's home?"

Shadow heard a soft thump on the stairs outside, immediately followed by the gritty creak of the screen door opening. Claire threw Sylar a look, slightly worried now.

"Can you handle him if he won't listen?" she asked.

Sylar nodded, casually summoning blue sparks to his fingertips. "Absolutely."

"Claire?" a masculine voice called down the hall to the kitchen. Shadow visibly tensed. Why did someone else have to be involved in this?

"Relax," Sylar whispered, reaching across the table to grab her hand.

"Claire? What's going . . . ?" the man's voice choked. Claire hurriedly stood and ran to the presence behind Shadow. Sylar was staring over her head, a twisted smirk on his lips.

"Claire, what's he doing here?" The man sounded angry and disgusted.

Shadow swiveled in her chair and was confronted with a tall, looming man. His dark hair fell across his forehead, cutely so. He had muscle, but his body was lean even under the casual tee-shirt. The man held Claire close and stared distrustfully at Sylar. His eyes skimmed over Shadow and narrowed. She went back to biting.

Claire spoke to the man in quick, low tones, hastily convincing him not to overreact and listen to what they were saying. After several heated minutes, he placed a medic's bag on the counter and gave Claire a fast kiss before sitting in an unoccupied seat. Claire returned to her own chair, running a hand over the man's shoulders as she did so.

Sylar grinned. "Good to see you two finally got over your moral dilemmas. Kissing in front of strangers?" He shook his head mockingly.

The man stared at Sylar stone-faced. "Sylar. I'd say that it's nice to see you again . . . but that would be lying, wouldn't it?"

"Not your style, huh?" Sylar glanced at Shadow. "Shadow, meet Peter Petrelli. Peter, meet Shadow. She's the only reason I'm here," he added.

Peter's dark eyes raked over Shadow, who had begun twisting her hands under the table. He nodded curtly.

"I can't believe you let him in," he muttered to Claire.

Shadow decided that she had to act fast or they were going to lose this opportunity. Sure, she was going to die, but only for a little while. Then she'd be alive again and with Sylar. She swallowed.

"Look, uh, Mr. Petrelli –"

"Peter," he corrected, turning his attention to Shadow. "Mr. Petrelli was my brother." He smiled, considerably warmer toward her than Sylar.

Shadow smiled nervously. "Peter. Right. Well, I guess I should explain why we're here . . ."

* * * * * *

Peter shoved himself away from the table angrily and began stalking around the kitchen.

"Tell me if I'm hearing this right," he ground out. "You –" he glared at Shadow, "want Sylar to kill you and take your ability. Your reasoning is that he won't kill as many people when he's with you, with your power. Then you think taking Claire's blood to bring you back from the dead will make everything okay?" His tone bordered accusatory and incredulous.

Claire only stared at he girl, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. Claire knew that stance – she used it many times herself. Shadow had made up her mind and wasn't going to back down.

"And you!" Peter whirled to face Sylar. "You agree with this? That's why you brought her here. You're so selfish that you couldn't even consider the possible alternatives –"

"I told her to throw me out," Sylar said, dangerously calm. "Or leave me. But she's a stubborn little special." His eyes shifted to Claire. "Ever had to deal with one of those before? Besides," he focused back on Peter. "If I'm so selfish why did I bring her to you? Why haven't I killed her already?"

Peter paused, eyes burning. Claire reached up and touched his arm gently. He looked down and Shadow watched silent communication pass between them.

"If you won't do it, I will," Claire whispered softly.

Peter jerked back. Staring around the room, he could see he was outnumbered. He sighed resignedly and dropped into his vacated chair, running a hand over his face. "How are we going to do this, then?" he finally asked. Shadow's eyes widened. They were saying yes. She grinned across the table at Sylar, who winked.

"I assume you have a plan?" Peter demanded, eyes on Sylar.

Sylar smirked. "Don't I always?"


A/N: Worth waiting for? *chuckle* You haven't seen anything yet.

Just to clear up a few things, this is getting a bit AU now. The way I interpreted is that Peter's ability in 'Fugitives' evolves as time goes on, so he can hold onto more abilities at one time. That's how he can still have Claire's power and he can fly (which is how he got to the house). And, yes, this is a Paire thing. You can decide whether you want them to be unrelated, or (my personal preference) they chose to get together after their family died. That's where Sylar's mention of 'moral dilemmas' applies.

Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to REVIEW! Reviews = happiness = faster writing = more chapters sooner. ^_^