Five Years Later: Chapter Twelve

Claire is tired and stressed when she reaches the room Stephanie has directed her to, and is looking down at the hardwood floor beneath her feet when she opens the door. But, aware at once that the room is bathed in candlelight, she lifts her head with surprised eyes, and the quivering light catches within them, setting them ablaze with green and blue flecks.

Gretchen is sitting on the side of the bed with her legs crossed, but uncrosses them and leans forward expectantly with a shy smile.

"Wow," exhales Claire, gazing around the room. "You've been busy while I was talking with Pete."

"The candles were already here, so ... I can't really take too much credit," says Gretchen with a shrug.

Claire takes a few steps closer, her dazzling eyes locking in on Gretchen's now; her smile warm and reassuring.

"Well, I think it's beautiful," she tells her. "Thank you. You have no idea how badly I needed something like this. And ... to see you waiting here for me this way ... that's the best part."

Gretchen clears her throat, blushing, and says, "So? What did Peter have to say? What new danger are we facing now?"

Claire sighs, and her shoulders fall along with her smile. She sits down next to Gretchen on the bed and says, "Do we have to talk about that now?"

"Well ... yeah, kinda," answers Gretchen. "I'm not going to be able to stop worrying until you tell me."

"Really?" says Claire, stretching back on the bed and giving her a lustful grin. "Cause, I'm feeling pretty relaxed already. You know ... with all the candlelight, and the ocean outside, and ... you. You sure you don't want to just ... you know ... turn in?"

Gretchen's back stiffens under her stare, and her palms immediately break out in a cold sweat, but she is determined not to lose focus.

"But ... the way Peter was looking at you," she continues, "and the way Stephanie was acting ... I know something is up, Claire. Something, you know ... worse than usual. I can't just pretend that ..."

Claire reaches out a hand, placing it just beneath Gretchen's shirt, and runs it slowly up her bare back. In response, Gretchen's sentence stops cold. In fact, she has forgotten what she was saying entirely.

"Gretch," says Claire, her voice low and throaty, "my life is always in danger. Waiting to talk about it until morning isn't going to change anything. Come on ... lay back with me. I promise I won't bite."

For a split second, Gretchen seriously considers taking her up on this. Claire's hand is warm and soft on her back, and the sensation is causing pleasant sparks to run throughout her body. And, the way she is looking at her ... like she hasn't had a bite to eat in weeks and Gretchen is a fried pork-chop ... She certainly can't remember having ever seen that look on Claire before.

The whole scenario makes her want to jump up, bolt the door, and never come out of this room again.

But, instead, she shakes her head and jumps up for a different reason ... To break their connection before she gives in to that look ... and wakes up in the morning with the whole world crashing in around them.

"Claire!" she exclaims, her cheeks flushed. And, she laughs a little, despite herself. "Look ... I know you are used to this, but I'm still developing a tolerance for constant danger, okay? Just ... tell me what's going on. Please?"

Claire sighs and leans up on one elbow. "If I tell you," she says, giving Gretchen a stern look, "do you promise it's not going to ruin the rest of what's left of our night?"

"How can I promise you that?" asks Gretchen. "I don't even know what you're going to tell me yet."

"That's kind of the point, Gretch," says Claire with a smile. "Just promise me ... you know ... that I can tell you, and we can move on."

Gretchen regards her with disbelieving eyes, as if she's gone mad.

Claire sits up a little more, still leaning on her elbows. "This is how things work in my world," she tells her. "You face the danger, then you move on. It's the only way to survive and stay sane at the same time. Trust me, Gretch. The sooner you learn that, the easier it will be for you. I mean ... you do want to be in my life now ... right?"

"More than anything," breathes out Gretchen, without really meaning to.

Claire's smile grows. "Good," she says. "Then, promise me. Promise me that I can tell you, and you'll put it out of your mind right away."

Gretchen hesitates. "Right away?"

"Right away," repeats Claire, laughing.

"Fine," Gretchen finally agrees with a sigh. "I promise. Now ... will you tell me what's going on?"

Claire sits up all the way now, exhaling her own sigh. Now that she's faced with telling her for real, she's not even sure if she'll be able to put it out of her mind.

Couldn't you have just waited until morning? Claire wonders, trying hard to cover her frustration.

"Peter didn't want me to come here," she tells Gretchen. "He wanted me to stay with Hiro in 1954."

"Because of Becky?"

"No. Well ... not really just Becky. As it turns out, I'm a little more popular than I thought."

"Huh?"

"Remember that pesky little government force Becky turn-coated with?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well ... they've kind of given up on chasing other evolves, and are refocusing their efforts on mainly just chasing ... well ... me."

And I'm supposed to be able to put this out of my mind? Thinks, Gretchen, feeling the ground beneath her give way ... for about the thousandth time today.

"What?" asks she, almost afraid to hear the rest.

Claire leans forward and grabs her hand, pulling her towards the bed. "It's all right, Gretch," she soothes. "I promise. They aren't going to catch me, okay? We'll find Hiro in the morning and go back to 1954 ... maybe forever. Think you could handle that? Living with me in the Fifties? I know they weren't as tolerant of lesbians back then, but ... what they don't know about won't kill them. Or ... we could live in Europe! The Fifties were totally different in Europe!"

"Claire, slow down!" says Gretchen with a nervous laugh. "I would live anywhere with you; anytime. But, you're not getting out of this that easily, okay? I know there's more you aren't telling me. Just spill it."

Claire's nose wrinkles as she furrows her brows. "How can you tell?"

"Because," says Gretchen, taking a seat beside her again. "You always try and change the subject and start talking a mile a minute when you don't want to tell me something."

Claire smiles. Does she remember that from five years ago? She wonders.

"Well," she says to Gretchen, "I guess I just don't see the point. I mean, why worry you over something that might not even ..."

"Might not even what?"

"... happen," says Claire.

"What might not even happen?"

"The painters ... the ones that see the future ...? Peter says they are all having the same vision. And ... this one kind of involves me in a big way."

"But ... I thought your painter died in the explosion today."

"He probably did, but ... there are a lot more. And Peter is in contact with one. He also knows of another one, working for the government, and that one also has the vision. Peter knows this because he has a man on the inside, working for us. That's how he knows all of this."

"Okay," says Gretchen, feeling overloaded with information again. "So ... wh ... what's the vision?"

Claire takes a deep breath in preparation. "Well ..." she says, "it seems I am destined to be a mother soon. And, not just any mother either ... the mother of some super-charged devil child that's supposed to rise up against our kind and destroy us all."

Gretchen laughs, causing Claire to regard her with an odd look.

"I'm sorry," says Gretchen, "It's just ... you're not serious right now ... right? You're just punking me."

Claire looks back at her with nothing but seriousness. "I wish I were," she says softly. "But ... it's the truth. Peter wouldn't lie to me."

"Couldn't the painters be wrong?" asks Gretchen, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

Claire turns, taking her hand again. "They don't have to be right," she tells her. "If we do what Peter says; if we go back to 1954, then Elle will never find me, and the child will never be born."

"Elle?" asks Gretchen. "Who's Elle? Claire, if you tell me she's another ex-girlfriend out to kill me, I swear to God ..."

Claire laughs and pulls her closer, resting her blond curls on Gretchen's shoulder. "There are no more ex-girlfriends, I promise."

"Then, who is she?" Gretchen persists.

Claire sits back up and smiles at her, still holding tight to her hand. "You know ..." she says, ignoring Gretchen's last question, "... I seem to remember you making me a promise just a few minutes ago ... You about ready to make good on that?"

"But ... Claire, you still haven't told me everything."

"I've told you enough," swears Claire, her voice doing that low and throaty thing again. "Please, Gretch ... Just for tonight, can't we just forget about all this craziness? Five years ago, I thought this moment would never happen. I thought I'd lost you forever. And now, here we are ... sitting in candlelight. I mean, do you really want to waste one more ..."

Claire doesn't need to finish her thought. Gretchen was following along closely, and jumped on board from the moment she said, "and now, here we are." By the time she gets to, "do you really want to waste one more ..." Gretchen's already made up her mind. She blindsides Claire with a kiss, and leans into it, slowly pushing her back against the mattress.

After her surprise wears off, Claire instinctively rolls Gretchen over and pins her, returning the kiss, and intensifying it. Her grip on Gretchen's forearms as she presses them against the bed is shockingly strong, but it only causes Gretchen's body to tremble that much more. The power Claire has over her is intoxicating, and she only craves more of it.

Already breathless from the exchange, Claire arches her back to look at Gretchen, pulling her now wild mane of hair out of her face as she does so.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"Just ... tell me you aren't just doing this because you think we'll never have the chance again," Gretchen pleads, also breathing hard.

Claire smiles, the candlelight flickering in her eyes again. She takes one hand away from Gretchen's arm and slides it down her stomach slowly. "I'm not going anywhere," she promises, unbuttoning Gretchen's pants. "I swear to you."

*to be continued ...*