JUNE 2548

We did eventually talk about traveling. We weighed the pros and the cons in a lengthy discussion over dinner and far into the night. I was stunned by how receptive he was to the idea. We talked about options, places we wanted to visit, things we wanted to do. I'd never been across the ocean. I wanted to see the pyramids, the great wall. He wanted to take me to Niagara Falls and the Amazon. We had fallen asleep in the middle of the conversation and continued the next morning as he prepared for work. In all, it took us a month to make a decision and get to the point we're at now, sitting at the kitchen table with a pad of paper and a map spread out in front of us.

"There are a few new settlements here in Ireland," Gabriel says, pointing to a small island on the map, "They would be great to settle in when we're done with the whole travel thing. I've never been there, so we wouldn't be recognized."

I nod, adding 'Ireland after?' to the sheet of paper in front of me.

"Didn't you mention something about some islands in the Caribbean?" I ask.

"Yes, but I think you might prefer Ireland; it's more civil…" He pauses. "Why don't we visit both beforehand and then decide?" I smile and nod.

I can barely believe that this is going to happen. It's like a dream.

"I promise, Claire, it is happening," Gabriel says as he stands, running his hands through his hair and yawning. "I have hundreds of hours of meetings with Kale and my commanders to prove it."

I continue to sit at the table, watching as he stretches and pops his knuckles.

"I think that enough for tonight," he says finally, holding a hand out to me and waiting for me to take it. And I do, letting him pull me up and lead me to the bedroom. We left the bed unmade this morning, but the sheets still look clean and inviting. The spark of electricity I feel against the shell of my ear as Gabriel trails his tongue around it tells me it won't be for much longer.

"You know, Claire?" he asks, voice low and husky as he stands behind me, "I'm very upset with you."

I shiver. "What for?" I say as he sweeps my hair from my neck and nips at it.

"Your attitude," he murmurs, the fingers of his left hand digging into my hip so hard I can feel the bruises forming.

I bite my lip as a flood of wetness pools between my thighs. "What attitude?"

His right hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back and holding it against his shoulder. I can feel the entire length of his body rock solid behind me and his erection straining at the small of my back. "You know exactly what attitude," he hisses. His hands burst into flame and my hair catches fire. The searing heat is so painful that I have to scream. He chuckles in my ear as he puts out the fire and smoothes my hair back to its naturally glossy mane.

"You've been unbearably demanding for the past month," he continues, "Needy and childish when I go to my meetings even though you were the one who convinced me to make them. Delegating the reigns of an empire takes time, Claire."

"I'm sorry," I sigh, letting my eyes flutter closed as he pushes me away and I stumble, hitting the floor hard.

"The knife, Claire," he directs, taking control of my body and becoming the puppet master. I feel the old spark of fear and a rush of arousal as he penetrates my very agency. "Let's see if we can calm that petulance for the future."

We spend some quality time together on the bed as he chides me and the blade works feverishly at my skin. An hour later and we're both lying there, languorous and completely at ease on bloody sheets that stick to our bare skin. There's a pink glow to the gold of our complexions now and it looks like he's wearing poorly made lipstick. I lick his lips to take care of that and taste the copper and tang of my own blood and arousal.

"You know, we can still do this when we're traveling," I say, settling on top of him and circling one of his nipples with the tip of my finger. "You went at it like a hyena tonight."

He raises one eyebrow and frowns.

"I only mean that you were doing me like you were going to miss the blood and the sex, and neither of those things are staying behind in Manhattan."

He lets his eyes flutter shut, but I can tell that he's thinking. We lay there for a few more minutes, pressed skin to skin.

"I know that," he finally says, "It's just…"

"Just what?" He cups my ass and electrocutes me, making me jolt and gasp against him.

"Let me talk," he warns lovingly. I press a kiss to the hollow of his throat and nestle against his shoulder in response. "It's just that we've never lived anywhere but the city, not as a couple. I suppose I'm being a bit superstitious, but it feels like we've only really been happy as husband and wife when we're both here."

I let his words sink in. Is there a connection between this place and our marriage? Certainly. Anything good or bad that's happened to us as a couple has started here. Our marriage, the miscarriage, Danielle, Kale…but do I think our union will fail anywhere else on the planet? No. This man, the one I let cut and abuse and please me, is the love of my life, no matter where I choose to lead it. But I still feel the same nervousness I can tell is coursing through him, the same anticipation.

Maybe it's because for the first time since the beginning, we're setting out as equals, partners on a journey that neither of us has taken before. We're starting over, only this time we're both willing and participating. This time I'm not fighting him every inch of the way and trying to ruin my only shot at happiness.

And maybe that's what's disturbing him.

"I hadn't thought of that," he says against my hair. "This is different."

I stretch against him, feel the sinew and the skin beneath me and revel as I speak. "You know, Gabriel," I say, "I think a part of you misses my reticence."

"I don't miss loving a woman who doesn't love me back." I frown. There's hurt in his voice.

"No, but I'm sure you miss the real struggle, the rewarding violence."

He pauses and his hand trails down to cup my sex. It's still wet. "Oh, I wouldn't say violence doesn't still have rewards."

"You know what I mean."

He sighs. "I do. It was… an interesting hobby of mine."

I chuckle and the sound vibrates against his skin. "I think interesting is an understatement. It was your favorite hobby, my dear, sadistic husband."

He grumbles in response and we continue to lay there, comfortable in the silence.

"You know," I say finally, thoughtfully, "I think you miss me fighting back. Is that it? You miss the times when I'd struggle and cry and try to stick a knife in your off-switch?" He shivers, and I can tell by his renewing arousal that I'm right. "Oh my," I whisper huskily, "We're going to have to do something about this. I hadn't realized I was neglecting my husband's evil twin."

By the time we're done with round two the blood has splattered all four of the walls, blood belonging to both of us. Sylar collapses into a satiated heap on the floorboards beside me, eyes glowing and skin fevered. The spot between my thighs is sore and his seed coats my thighs and stomach.

I guess I missed it too.

"We're not leaving this behind," I murmur as his hand finds mine. He squeezes in response and we both fall into a satisfied sleep.