Pairing: Claire/Sylar

Theme: Gift

Dimension: Alternate

Word Count: 1,434

Gift

It rained in sheets on the Saturday morning that Mister Muggles failed to awaken. Claire had kept the silly dog as a reminder of the life she'd used to live, connecting with her good memories with every bark and lick. It was seven-thirty before she even realized that the dog was not bouncing around at the edge of her bed, demanding her immediate attention. He was a prompt little fellow; at exactly six-thirty, he would remind her that he had not peed all night and now was pressing upon him to do so. At six-forty-five he ate a breakfast of gourmet kibble in his little blue bowl. At seven-fifteen, Claire left for work. When she got home, Muggles was waiting for their evening walk along the stretch of beach right outside their home.

Claire sat up, yawning widely and rubbing her eyes, trying to place the anomaly in her schedule. When she realized Muggles was absent, she raced downstairs to find that the dog was curled up in his bed, having finally succumbed to death. It was a final breaking point for her; she knelt down and wept. The body was cold, but she cradled it to her chest softly, sorely wishing for her mother. Sandra Bennet had been dead for nearly two years now, having been killed during the terrible war of 2012.

Claire had never felt so alone in her life. When she was able to control the tears, Claire looked up to see a faint silhouette standing just outside her window. Her brows furrowed as she stood. However, when she pressed her forehead to the cool glass, there was nothing but gray weather and the gentle sound of rain as it fell onto the sand. It might have been him, but that was most likely impossible. After the war, he'd just disappeared. Sometimes though, Claire felt as if someone was watching her, but instead of feeling creeped out by it, she felt a strong sense of comfort.

She buried the tiny body under a large palm tree the next day, carving his name into the rough bark of the trunk. The clouds rumbled overhead, reminding her that another storm was due any moment now. Claire looked out over the expanse of ocean, wishing dearly that she could share it with someone. She wanted a family like her own, but knew that the heartache of watching them grow old and die was worse than being alone.

She trudged back to her home, trying desperately to focus on anything but the silence of the house. She turned on the television, not really listening to the news bulletin, but needing the back noise. She even did a load of laundry, trying so hard to banish the solitary feelings. She was beginning to regret alienating him. She almost wished he was there, as infuriating as he was. He never failed to be there when she most needed him, and he always had a way of making her forget that she was the last of her family. He forced her to live in the here and now, taunting, cajoling and threatening a response out of her. Anger welled up at the thought of him. So to banish him from her mind, she popped in a romantic thriller, forcing herself to catch up with story, snuggling deep into her couch, munching on popcorn.

It was late when Claire finally laid down on her couch, squeezing her eyes shut tight to forget Muggle's goodnight kisses. She drifted to sleep with tears on her cheeks.

The next morning, a very wet tongue was licking slobber all over her nose. Claire sat up, jarring the small black puppy off of her lap. He landed with a yelp, but picked himself back up with a yap and wiggled in excitement. Claire tentatively picked up the little bundle of energy, cradling him close like Muggles used to like. He was going to be a monster dog when he grew up; his paws were very large, and Claire suspected that he had a parent who was all or mostly wolf. He had eyes as dark brown as coffee, with an intelligence not common in most canines.

It wasn't hard to figure out who'd deposited the little creature in her home, but the distraction was everything she needed.

"Okay, little guy. First things first. You are going to need a name." She thought long and hard, glossing over Peter, Lyle, Nathan and Noah. She wouldn't name the dog after people she missed so deeply. As Claire sat on her couch and poured over names, the dog quickly crept away, intent on chewing everything he could sink his itchy teeth into. Claire looked up when she thought she heard crashing somewhere upstairs, and she was galloping up the stairs as fast as she could when she heard another yelp.

She found the dog in her closet, feasting on her best pair of Jimmy Choo's, happily destroying the soft leather.

"No! Bad dog, bad!" He wagged his tail, believing her to be playing a game. He sprinted out of the closet with a shoe, intent on playing this new game. Claire whirled around, screeching for him to stop, unable to catch him before he slid into another room.

He promptly stopped here to pee, and Claire found that she was not as in shape as she'd hoped. By late afternoon, the dog had eaten through two pairs of shoes, a door, peed on an ancient Persian rug, chewed up an edge of the rug, barfed said rug in her sock drawer, and left several stinky deposits like landmines all over the house.

When Sylar showed up a few hours after Claire had finally worn the pup down into rest, she was ready to kill him over and over until she felt better.

"Why did you give me a demon, Sylar? Isn't your presence here bad enough? Haven't I paid enough?" He only smirked and sat down across from her.

"I didn't intent for him to be a source of torment. That was only a plus in the deal. I found him abandoned and thought you could use a distraction." His words confirmed her suspicions that he was watching her, but she decided that he too must be lonely.

"I won't thank you for him."

"I do believe I'd faint from shock if you did." She gave him the stink eye and looked down as the pup yawned.

"…He…is kinda…cute. I mean, cute as in… interesting. You know…"

"Have you named him yet? Tell me you didn't do something trite, like name him Peter."

"No, I decided that would be a bit too hard to handle. I was thinking more along the line of Phantom or Ghost."

"Good names for a dog. I personally like Ghost, though he isn't white…"

"But he is scary. He ate my shoes, Sylar. He ate them and then threw them up on my very expensive Persian rug, which he also peed on. Did you know he was going to be such a mess?" Sylar chuckled, easily standing and coming to sit at her side. She allowed it because moving would wake the baby. His hand reached out to gently rub the dog's neck, and Claire smiled as he yawned again and sighed in the way only puppies can.

"You know something? He reminds me of someone," Claire mused. Sylar didn't say a word as he continued to enjoy her closeness. He'd never tell her that he had scoured the entire globe to find her just the perfect puppy. He'd never tell her how he'd held the pup for hours on the beach, contemplating whether or not she'd accept the little monster. He'd never tell her that he cared deeply for her, much more deeply than he'd ever cared for another, but he would show her. This puppy was one of the many ways.

"I know, how about Gabriel?" Sylar stopped cold, turning to glare at her from beneath his dark eyebrows.

"Unacceptable. You can't-"

"Is he my dog?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then Gabriel it is."

In the end, Sylar relented, and Gabriel became a special friend and companion for Claire. He grew in size, coming to the young woman's hip in height, and weighing well over twice her own weight. Claire never knew that the dog was not just a distraction, but protection for when Sylar couldn't watch over her. The man was able to go about his business knowing that no harm would come to her as long as she kept Gabriel with her. He'd given her not only a friend, but a guardian angel as well.

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