Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

06 December, 2009

Claire slipped her key into the lock. She was still wearing the red dress from two nights before. Saturday had been spent indulging Sylar in a short road trip in pursuit of pie. Claire hadn't asked where he had gotten the car. She knew it couldn't possibly be a legitimate possession. Sylar didn't have any real means of income except his golden touch. And that turn of phrase somehow sounded worse than it was.

So after waving goodbye to Sylar, and she never thought she would do that in this lifetime, Claire had walked up to her room her heels swinging from her hand. The lock clicked open and Claire pushed the door in, finding for the first time in almost a week her roommate lying in bed.

"Hey," Gretchen smiled weakly as she sat up. "Where have you been? It seems like I haven't seen you in forever."

Claire returned the smile. She didn't let loose any biting comments about Gretchen's near invisible man act. Instead, Claire nodded, "I've been spending a lot of time in the library."

"The library," Gretchen asked pointedly, smirking at Claire's outfit. "Is that some new club I haven't heard about?"

The door shut with a click and Claire set her shoes down by her bed. "Ha, no. I went to a party Friday night with an old friend. We ended up driving up into D.C. yesterday, I just got back."

"Clearly," it was a sharp assessment as Gretchen swung herself out of bed. "So who is this friend?"

The tone was almost expected; Claire picked up on the not so subtle avoidance routine. Stepping into her closet Claire slid out of her dress and pulled on a towel. It had been more than 24 hours since she had last showered and Claire needed a reset.

"Uh," Claire called over her shoulder as she gathered her shower caddy, "I've known him since I was in high school."

"Him," Gretchen's smile was forced, it showed in her voice. "Former boyfriend, current boyfriend?"

Claire shook her head, "It's not that simple."

Gretchen crossed her arms, "That's not a no."

"Look, we've known each other for a while and I need a friend right now," Claire stated finally. "I'm going to go shower, I'll be back in a few."

When Claire returned Gretchen was packing her bag for the day. "Hey," she said, "I'm going to breakfast and then the student center for a study sesh, wanna come?"

Claire grabbed an extra towel and started to dry her hair. "I can't, I have plans this morning."

"Oh," the brunette frowned, "what's up?"

Claire slipped on a pair of cotton shorts under towel and a long sleeve shirt on top before shimmying the towel off. Dropping onto her bed with a little bounce, "We're having a movie marathon."

"Your friend," Gretchen's smile dropped. "The guy who is complicated."

"Yeah," Claire agreed. "He's picking up breakfast and some snacks and then coming by. You could stay, if you wanted to."

"I don't think that would be a good idea, I don't think your friend would appreciate me being here," Gretchen rejected the invitation. "I'm going to go. I'll see you around."

Claire was pulling out her movie collection when the door swung open and Sylar's heavy footsteps sounded. She spun and glared at him. "God, don't you know how to knock," she demanded, "what if I was naked?"

"Do you often walk around naked with the door unlocked," Sylar asked as he set the paper bags he was carrying on the ground.

"No," Claire frowned, "but what if I was."

"Then I would have enjoyed the show," Sylar smirked and darted forward to press a quick kiss to Claire's cheek.

She jumped in surprise, but didn't move to hit him. His lips against her skin were surprisingly gentle, and the light scruff of his stubble was softer than Claire expected. A slight smile stretched across her face as she turned to face him, "So what's for breakfast?"

"Fresh pancakes with warm syrup and strawberry smoothies," Sylar pulled the takeaway bag up from the floor.

"Yum," Claire groaned. "What movie do you want to start with?"

Sylar passed her one of the Styrofoam containers and dropped onto her bed, flipping through the box of films. "Pride and Prejudice," Sylar asked with interest. "I didn't think this was your thing."

"Well it is," Claire muttered as she shoved a forkful of syrupy pancake into her mouth.

The case was cracked up and Sylar pulled out the first disc of the mini-series, "Let's watch it."

The smile was easy and natural. The sixth day of their odd new acquaintanceship had grown easier with each hour, each moment.

After much arranging, Sylar and Claire lay on her bed, side by side, his arm curled around her shoulder. Claire's laptop sat on their legs, the DVD playing as they polished off the last of their meal. Sylar had wolfed down his breakfast and was now picking at Claire's, she kept slapping his hand away playfully.

"I'm a growing boy," he whined when she glared at him.

"And I'm the Queen of England."

"We could make that happen, Claire," Sylar told her darkly.

Claire rolled her eyes, "Ha-ha, Mister Funny. Just watch the show."

Sylar fell silent, pulling Claire as little closer. Her takeout container was quickly tossed aside as she curled further against Sylar's warmth. She considered vaguely how their position would look to her father, either of them, Peter, even Mohinder. She would get reamed and probably locked up for the next million years. Even so she leaned her head against his chest, as she watched Elizabeth fight-flirt with Mr. Darcy. She hummed in happiness.

"Why do you like this story so much," Sylar asked softly.

Claire shrugged as Sylar's fingers began to draw circles on his along her ribcage. "I guess it's because somehow love conquers all. I know its cliché and stupid, but I want that kind of love."

He squeezed her gently, "It's not stupid. I want that too."

It was an admission that cracked the strong, independent, wall that Sylar had put up the day Elle broke his heart. Being an evolved human was uniquely difficult. Their existence was secret, and revealing it to a normal was dangerous. It was just as dangerous to connect with someone like them. Elle had proven that, so had West. There was too much risk involved. They had to live in secret, pretend they were regular. Claire and Sylar were doomed to that reality for the foreseeable eternity. Their ability to blend was severely limited. Neither could age, they couldn't settled down and grow old with a family. They would watch their loved ones age and die, staying young. Their prospects for love, real love that didn't judge and that lasted were minimal. It was the price of this adaptation.

Silence stretched, a little mournful at the loss. Sylar shifted closer, their feet tangling beneath the sheets, this was nice. In this moment Claire didn't have to pretend to be a normal girl. She was normal. She was watching a film with a friend who was just like her. Friend might have been a stretch, but this relationship was the closest Claire had come to genuine friendship in a long while.

The comfortable silence was broken by Sylar, his voice rumbling lowly, "Are you wearing a bra?"

Claire snorted and turned her head up to face him. Yeah, Sylar was definitely an average male. His fingers had trailed heat along her side, tracing the contours of her body. Of course he got distracted by her lack of a bra.

"No," she confirmed his suspicions. "Are you going to be okay?"

Sylar nodded slowly, his hand sliding a little higher, "Fine, perfectly fine."

"Are you staring at my boobs," Claire's voice pitched a little higher.

"No," he denied, Claire rolled her eyes as she followed his gaze past her face and towards her chest.

"Perv," she laughed and shoved his chest.

"You enjoy it," Sylar held her tighter.

A/N: 6/25. Gretchen returns, only to leave again. Sylar has a staring problem, not surprising. Let me know what you think, ta!