Warning: this chapter, while marginally more interesting than the last, contains mentions of one-sided Claire/Gretchen. I apologize if that's not your cup of tea, but unfortunately it's canon so I can't completely ignore it.

Chapter 14: The Problem With Roommates

BPOV

Over the next week, the buzz about Annie's death died down as the student body of Dartmouth reached an unspoken conclusion about it: she had been an overachiever, so she must have suffered from well-hidden fears of failure that had finally caused her to snap. Maybe she'd been afraid she couldn't cut it here. Claire still didn't believe that but couldn't stop people from saying it, because we had failed miserably at finding Annie's killer.

"I hate to say this, Bella," she said on Monday morning as we walked to one of the two classes we shared, "but Elle's right. We suck as detectives."

"Good thing we aren't here to study criminology then. Look, Claire...we haven't found anyone with a motive to hurt Annie, and my theory that it was Arthur trying to get to you got disproved by the fact that it's been days and nobody's bothered us - I think we've hit a dead end. Maybe it's time to do what you told Gretchen you were gonna do, and forget about it."

Claire sighed. "Maybe... Hey, speaking of Gretchen, I was thinking about asking her to be my new roommate. That way you could go home." She had stayed in town with me, Peter, and Elle for a couple days, until Annie's parents arrived to collect their daughter's belongings; once the dorm room was emptied of any trace of Annie, Claire went back to it but hadn't wanted to be alone there, so I'd agreed to stay with her until she found another, permanent roommate.

The news that she might have done so pleased me immensely. Not that I wanted to get away from her - of course I didn't - it was more that I wanted to get back to Peter. Being Claire's temporary roomie wasn't keeping me away from him all day; we still saw each other about as much as we had when I lived in Charlie's house, and him on the other side of town. The problem was that since then I had grown accustomed to having him around all the time, being able to curl up with him every night, and now any degree of separation felt like too much. Illogically, I missed him. Still, I had to ask, "Are you sure? The dorm isn't so bad; I can stay longer if you want..."

"No, that's okay. I'll be fine with Gretchen. I appreciate you offering, though."

"What are best friends for?" We smiled at each other, but then my smile faded as a new concern struck me. "You know, I won't be able to shield you anymore if we're that far apart."

Claire rolled her eyes, obviously not sharing my concern. "I can't get hurt, remember - I think I can survive without you protecting me."

"But you can be captured. If Arthur has a locater or precog looking for you-"

"Then I will deal. You, meanwhile, need to deal with your Arthur Petrelli paranoia. I know you're totally justified in having a complex about the guy but - this sounds as insensitive as something our resident walking bug-zapper would say, sorry - I'm a little harder to kill than your dad. You're never getting rid of me, Bella. Deal with it."

###

Gretchen agreed to room with Claire, as I'd expected she would, so that afternoon after classes were over I packed up my clothes and toiletries to make room for her to start moving her stuff in. Elle was just leaving for work by the time I got home, and Peter's shift didn't end for a little while yet; for the moment, I had the house to myself. I began unpacking, humming to fill the silence. Just as I was returning my toothbrush to its customary spot by the sink, I heard a voice from the hallway outside the bathroom.

"What are you doing here?"

I spun around, lost my always-precarious balance, and started to fall.

Peter appeared beside me, catching my upper arms just in time to save me from cracking my head on the countertop's hard edge. "Trying to get in your head trauma of the day, Bella?"

"Very funny, Peter. If you're gonna be like that, I won't tell you what went down today..." I trailed off teasingly, knowing I'd caught his interest.

"What? Nothing bad, I hope."

"No, nothing bad - in fact it's the opposite of bad. Claire doesn't think she needs me to shield her from psychic detection-"

"So there's no reason for you to stay with her anymore?"

"I don't see one now that she's got Gretchen to room with her, so now I'm all yours." I grinned. "Unless you're going to tell me you don't want-"

Peter interrupted me again, this time by kissing me until we were both breathless. "I'm glad you're all mine."

I nodded in agreement and pressed closer to him. It was good to be home.

###

Over the next couple of days life pretty much returned to normal, apart from the addition of Gretchen Berg. Peter and I both liked her well enough, and Elle liked her a lot - they were both a little offbeat, so it made sense - but sometimes I picked up a weird vibe from her, a feeling that she wanted Claire all to herself. I didn't know what to make of it, and it was slowly driving me crazy.

"I think I'm losing my grip," I told Peter as we walked home one night. "I mean, really."

"Because you think Gretchen's up to no good?"

"'Up to no good' is putting it a little strongly - I just think there's something strange about the way she acts around Claire. She seems...way too interested in her. It's weird." I waited anxiously for Peter to either tell me that he'd noticed it too, or that I really was becoming clinically paranoid. Instead, he was just amused. I was momentarily stunned, and then I started getting mad. "What? What is so funny? Stop laughing!"

I aimed a half-hearted shove at his chest, but he caught my wrist. "I'm sorry, Bella, I shouldn't have laughed. It's just that Gretchen's behavior isn't that weird if you think about it." He tried to wipe an angry tear out of the corner of my eye; I leaned away from his touch, at least as much as I could with him holding me by the wrist.

"Say something that makes sense or let go of me," I demanded petulantly, scowling up at him.

"Isn't it obvious? She has a crush."

My scowl vanished as I absorbed this information. "Gretchen?"

"Yes."

"Is crushing on Claire?"

"Yes. So you see there's nothing sinister going on with her."

"Oh. Oh. But Claire doesn't like girls that way...does she?" I was confused and slightly panicked - how could I not have known something like that about the person who was supposed to be my best friend?

"Not as far as I know - and since I can hear her thoughts, I know a lot."

For a split second I was relieved; then something else occurred to me. "Poor Gretchen. She thinks she's got a chance with her, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Peter said awkwardly. "Now can we please not talk about this anymore?"

I didn't say another word on the subject, but I couldn't stop turning it over in my mind. On one hand, it was good to know Gretchen didn't have some nefarious purpose in getting closer to Claire - it had even crossed my mind once or twice that she might have pushed Annie out of the window in order to do so, but of course if she had Peter probably would have gathered as much from her thoughts; she was certainly around enough to give him the opportunity. But now it appeared that Gretchen Berg wasn't a psychopathic killer, just a regular girl...who happened to have a crush on my best friend. The question was, now that I knew, what was I going to do about it?

As a best friend, I was ninety percent positive it fell under my job description to tell Claire, but how? Walking up to her and saying 'oh, by the way, your roommate has a thing for you. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, since you're both girls - just thought you oughta know!' might work if I had Elle's brash personality, but unfortunately I didn't; I wouldn't be able to get half the words out before dying of embarrassment. Anyway, what if Claire didn't want to be told? This information was bound to make things tense between her and her new friend when it got out; if I was the one to let the figurative cat out of the bag, she might get mad at me. Or she might get madder if I kept it to myself.

Life was so much simpler when I was a loner with no close friends. Hell, life was simpler when my friends were vampires! At least they didn't have any complicated romantic entanglements to deal with...

###

Claire emerged from her final class of the day, political science, accompanied by a girl I had seen before but didn't know by name. "I'll see you there, right?" the girl was saying.

"Absolutely," Claire agreed. "See ya."

"Where's she going to see you, exactly?" Gretchen asked when Claire joined us. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Her name's Becky Taylor, aka the girl who borrowed my notes a while back and finally returned them today. She invited me to a party at her boyfriend's fraternity house this weekend," Claire explained.

"And you said you'd go?"

"Sure, why not?" Gretchen looked like she could think of several reasons, but Claire went on before she could voice any of them. "You'll both come with, right?"

I immediately began searching for an excuse not to. "Uh, Claire...wouldn't you rather try to hook up with some guy than go there and hang out with us? You can do that any old time."

Gretchen flinched as if I'd slapped her, reminding me forcefully of what Peter had told me the previous night. I bit down on my tongue, wondering how I could've been so insensitive to her feelings. Then again, it wasn't entirely my fault; finally fed up with my preoccupation over an issue that he thought was really none of my concern, Peter had taken it on himself to direct my attention elsewhere - and he was very good at doing that. By the time he'd finished 'distracting' me, I'd forgotten all about Claire and Gretchen; in fact, I'd forgotten everything except...

"What's the matter with you?"

It took me a moment to realize Claire was talking to me, another to realize I had no idea what she was talking about. "Huh?"

"Your eyes just glazed over, and now your face is turning red."

"Maybe she has a fever," Gretchen suggested.

"No, I don't! It's hot, that's all." I fanned myself with a notebook.

Claire rolled her eyes; it was only seventy-two degrees. "Whatever, Bella. So, yes or no? Say yes."

"Yes," I said automatically, still flustered.

Claire turned to Gretchen, looking thunderstruck. "You know, I think you were right. She must be running a fever."

"Wait, what did I just say yes to?"

Saturday evening

I hesitated outside the door, steeling myself. I didn't want to do this, but I had no choice. I'd gotten myself into this thanks to my big mouth, and now I had to go through with it, or Claire would be very upset with me. The thought of fighting with my best friend was all it took to make me raise my fist and knock.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open and shuffled inside. Elle was splayed out on her bed, lying on her stomach, reading a magazine full of the latest Hollywood gossip; it must have been interesting, because she didn't so much as glance up when I entered. "I...I need your help with something."

"Want me to fry somebody for you?" There hadn't been an opportunity for Elle to use her powers on anyone in quite some time, which she apparently found frustrating; she sounded just a little too eager.

"No, no, nothing like that," I hurriedly assured her, and could swear her face fell slightly. "I need advice on what to wear...to a frat party." I grimaced as the words left my mouth.

Elle dropped her magazine, bounded up into a kneeling position, and hit me with the strongest blast she could muster. I shielded myself just in time, allowing her lightning bolts to crackle harmlessly over my skin, but the force of her attack still sent me stumbling backward into her dresser. "What the hell are you doing!"

She slowly stopped generating electricity, watching me with narrowed eyes. "There's no way Bella Swan would ever set foot in a frat party, so I thought you must be a pod person - but someone who shapeshifted into other people wouldn't be able to mimic your shielding ability, so I guess you're you after all."

"Of course I'm me!" I snapped indignantly. "And I don't want to go to any stupid party, but unfortunately I promised. So are you gonna help me find something to wear or what?"

"Okay, okay - keep your panties on. When you bought new clothes after your old ones burned up, did you happen to pick out anything more fashionable than something your average homeless person might wear?"

I resented that; my preferred jeans and t-shirts might be blah, but I in no way resembled a street person, especially since my current wardrobe was still relatively new. "Um...I have a pair of black jeans."

"Great, now you just need something to wear with them." Elle thumbed through the clothes hanging in her closet and, after much deliberation, pulled out a top made of sheer black material and a matching camisole. "Try this on." I did, but Elle didn't stop there; once I was dressed, she dragged me to the bathroom and forcibly applied makeup, shocking me when I squirmed or protested - it only worked one time, after which I kept myself shielded, but once was enough to convince me that resistance was futile. "There," she said at last, turning me toward the mirror. "What do you think?"

My nose wrinkled as I examined my reflection. "I think I look goth-y. Did you have to use such dark eyeliner?"

"Yes, Bella. You don't want a bunch of drunk frat boys hitting on you, do you?"

"No..."

"Then it'll help if you look mysterious and unapproachable."

"All right...and will you look at the time? I'd better get going."

Right on cue, I heard a car pulling up outside and smiled. Claire might get me into a few situations I'd rather avoid, but she had impeccable timing.

###

The place wasn't at all like what I'd expected a fraternity's headquarters would be, which, since I'd been imagining something similar to a Victorian-era opium den, was not really surprising. But no, this was just a normal house, albeit one with a lot more bedrooms than most, louder music, and beer cans littering almost every available surface.

We were barely inside the door before Becky spotted us and came over, smiling broadly. "Claire! I'm so glad you made it!" Then her eyes flicked over me and Gretchen. "And you brought your sister and roommate," she added in a somewhat flatter tone.

"Great!" A large, muscular guy who I supposed must be Becky's boyfriend slung his arm around her shoulders, grinning toothily at us. "Drinks, ladies?"

Claire shrugged and took the beer he offered her.

"No thanks, I don't drink," I said when a second can was held out to me. "Have you got anything else?"

"I think I saw some chips and dip over there-" the guy pointed to a card table set up next to a wall "-assuming my brothers haven't already eaten 'em all."

"Cool - we haven't eaten. C'mon, Claire." Gretchen grabbed Claire's hand and tugged her toward the snack table.

"I'm not all that hungry... Oh, okay," Claire muttered as she gave in to the pressure on her arm and followed Gretchen.

I trailed after them, flashing a quick smile at Becky and her boyfriend which he returned full force. Becky attempted to do the same, but it didn't quite reach her eyes; in fact, I could have sworn they were almost cold as she looked at me. I shivered, struck by a sudden feeling that Becky Taylor didn't like me very much. Maybe she was annoyed that Claire had brought me with her. Now I thought about it, she hadn't seemed at all pleased to see Gretchen either.

What's up with that? I wondered. Was Claire supposed to come alone? Why would Becky want her to, though? There couldn't be two girls at Dartmouth who wanted my best friend all to themselves; besides, I was pretty sure Becky didn't like Claire that way. She had a boyfriend, for crying out loud!

Distracted and not having Peter to snap me out of it this time, I drifted aimlessly through the cavernous den/rec room until a hand fastened on my arm. "What's up with you?" Claire asked. At my quizzical look she elaborated, "You were in zombie mode."

"Nothing's wrong," I lied, not wanting to ruin the night with my unfounded misgivings about Becky. Then, before Claire could question me further, I snatched a handful of carrot sticks from the snack table and crammed them in my mouth. Her eyebrows shot up. "'M hungry," I mumbled.

Luckily for me, some guy chose that moment to ask Claire to dance, and I slipped away to join Gretchen, who was standing by the wall holding a stack of chips in a napkin. "Don't you want to dance? I hear people like to do that at parties."

"Well, I make a point of deviating from the norm. Kinda like you - I see you're not dancing either."

"I can't. Too uncoordinated."

Gretchen nodded as if to say she'd expected as much. We stood there munching our snacks, neither of us speaking...until a soft scraping noise from above caught my attention. "What's that?"

"What?" Gretchen clearly hadn't heard anything over the pounding bass issuing from four-foot-tall speakers in every corner of the room.

"That noise..." I looked up, trying to pinpoint the source. Directly above the spot where Gretchen and I stood was the open upper level of the house, enclosed by a wooden banister, but I saw nothing that could be making the strange scraping sound. The second floor appeared empty apart from a heavy-looking coat-rack...yet even as I watched, the coat-rack tilted forward, balanced on the banister for a split second, then tumbled over, falling straight toward us...

Next chapter: the gang finds out who's behind the attacks on Claire's friends (though everyone who watched season 4 should be way ahead of them) and a new villain makes his first appearance, because you can never have too many villains.