Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

11 December, 2009

"Are you sure that was the right turn," Claire asked, glancing out at the darkened roadway. It was just after midnight and the darkness of night was thick, making the most innocuous roads seem ill-advised.

An hour before had them turning off the highway and taking a series of smaller and smaller roads into more and more abandoned areas. They had stopped at a diner for pie, which was topped off with a cup of coffee. Claire had snatched the keys from Sylar on the way back to the car, he had responded by lunging at her, chasing her to the car.

Now, Sylar was leaning back in the seat, staring at Claire. "Yes," he told her, "I checked the map while you were in the bathroom."

"So where are we," Claire pressed, flipping the heater on a little higher.

Inhaling deeply Sylar sat up. He leaned over the center console towards Claire, resting his chin on her shoulder. He inhaled again, one hand tugging at her hair. "We're in Ohio. In a field."

"Now I see," Claire rolled her eyes. "Okay, so we still have like six hours to go, entertain me."

His eyes closed in thought before flashing open darkly, "I dare you to streak through this field."

Claire jerked away from him, the steering wheel twisting and making the car weave for a moment. "So not happening," she told him sharply. "You can go do whatever you want, but my clothes are staying on."

He fell silent for a moment before tracing the curve of her cheek with his index finger, "I'll do it if you do it."

"That you think that will convince me is concerning," the blonde shook her head in laughter.

"Well, what would convince you," Sylar questioned.

Claire frowned, trying to think of something that would actually convince her to strip down to her birthday suit and run through a corn field. Taking her foot off of the accelerator, Claire let the car slow before beginging to brake. She didn't look at her companion, didn't acknowledge the piercing stare.

Sliding the car into park and turning the car off, Clarie unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'll do it with you, if, and only if you answer any questions I have truthfully for the next four hours."

The dark man grimaced internally, that could get him in trouble, "One hour."

"Three," Claire countered.

"Two and you answer any questions you ask," was his final offer.

Claire frowned, "That isn't how this works."

"Take it or leave it," Sylar began to pull his shirt up, "I know you want to."

Opening the door, Claire slipped out of the car. She turned to face Sylar, finding him shirtless and attempting to discard his belt and wiggle out of his jeans. "No peaking."

Dark eyes rolled, "As if I would want to peak at you."

Claire slammed the car door and started stripping, her shoes and jeans coming off in a flash. Forcing a deep breath down her throat, the young woman shucked her underwear and ripped her shirt off, ducking slightly so that the door covered her nakedness as she undid her bra.

Another car door slammed dully in the night, "Ready, Claire?"

"No," she exhaled, wrapping her arms around her chest, "You first, start running."

"Or," Sylar stepped closer to her and Claire's eyes shot skyward, unprepared to see the man in his full glory, "we could do this together, side by side."

He held out his hand and Claire fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot. This was stupid, and with her luck, they would be caught, arrested, and her father would end up having to bail them out. Except, Claire considered, her father would probably end the whole affair with a murder. Bridges. Bridges, she was building bridges. That was what mattered.

She dropped her arms from her chest abruptly, it was better to just get it over with. She met his eyes, and dared him to look down. He didn't, although Claire suspected he had already gotten plenty of a look. Sylar smiled and took her hand, tugging her gently toward the field.

"Here we go," he mumbled.

Groaning Claire squeezed his hand, "Just remember this the next time you want me to do something."

Claire shivered as they turned back. The whole event had been rather tame. Sylar hadn't made a single lascivious comment, hadn't touched anything but her hands and her face, and hadn't even let his eyes stray. Claire, on the other hand, couldn't quite say the same. She had touched his chest, watched his muscles ripple, and her eyes had definitely strayed.

Tilting her head back, Claire considered that the whole experience had been rather exhilarating. Yes there had been adrenaline, but it wasn't just that. It had been utterly liberating. It reminded her briefly of jumping off the machinery and filming it to prove she was real. Being naked was enthralling. Claire could certainly understand the appeal of feeling so much against her bare skin.

"Here," Sylar lifted her clothes from the ground, "I'll turn around."

Claire shrugged, "It's not like you haven't seen it all."

"I could be a gentleman and deny it," the man offered.

She pushed him and tugged her shirt on, ignoring her bra, "I wouldn't believe you for a minute."

"I wouldn't either," Sylar smirked as he moved around the jeep and scrambled into his own clothes.

As Claire got settled in the driver's seat again she dropped her bra on Sylar's lap, "Put that in the bag behind your seat."

It wasn't the first bra he had ever held, but it was the casual way she had handed it to him that made him stumble a little. "Sure," he finally gritted out, twisting in his seat to do what she wanted.

"So," Claire turned the radio on as she pulled onto the road. "First question, why Sylar?"

"It's a brand of watch," Sylar admitted. "It was one of the first watches I ever repaired on my own. I smashed it the night I killed Chandra Suresh. I was never able to part from it."

A frown graced Claire's pale pink lips, "If you don't want to be a killer, why keep the name that you made for yourself."

"I guess I never felt like Gabriel Gray again," Sylar shrugged. "I used it, every once in a while to lull people into a false sense of security, it just seems like I'm lying if I think of myself as Gabriel."

"I kind of like the name, Gabriel," Claire tested the name out. She had known his real name, but she had never had the courage to say it. That might make her torturer human.

The name from her lips sounded right, Sylar decided. It wasn't the cloying desperation of Maya's voice, the sneer of his childhood, the sickening sigh of his mother, or the dismissal of Angela. From Claire it sounded like a promise, soft and sweet, like his name should have sounded all his life.

"You can use it," he offered nonchalantly, "If you want."

"Gabriel," Claire repeated the name, "Maybe."

"Next question," Sylar asked, not wanting to linger on the topic.

Claire hummed, lips pressed together in thought, "First kiss?"

A half smile flashed briefly on Sylar's shadowed face, "I was 13, and I was hanging out in a record store. She was cute, dark pigtails and shiny shoes. I kissed her and ran, I never saw her again."

"Aww," Claire smiled, looking over at the man beside her. "Mine was at 14, with my gay best friend, he didn't know yet. It was just awkward."

"What about your favorite kiss," Sylar asked; knowing full well if she demanded an answer in return he would have to admit it was her kissing him on the cheek.

She sighed, it was unexpected. Then she shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe Alex."

"And who is Alex," Sylar asked, fingers digging in to the "oh shit bar" on the door.

Pushing her sleeves up, Claire gave Sylar a quick glance, "Alex is like us, he has ability. I helped him escape from the Company. He was this really sweet guy who worked in a comic book store. I liked him."

Sylar's gaze swung from the window to her, staring in utter skepticism. "Really," he asked, "you found a comic book geek attractive."

"Yes," Claire nodded. "What did you think I would be dating jocks?"

"Yes."

Claire frowned, "I tried that once, it didn't end well, he still doesn't remember who he is."

Heavy eyebrows rose in interest. The picture of Claire he had painted long ago was beginning to deepen, with each new detail a better version, a better image of who she was rose. The Claire speeding down the empty country highway was anything but the cheerleader he had once believed her to solely be.

A/N: 11/25. I finally got my new glasses…and oh my goodness! I can finally stop playing "is it a spider, or is it a fuzz ball?" Who knew seeing was so awesome (it's been about 8 years since I got a new prescription)? Anywho, tomorrow is Friday, which means I will actually be home from work at a reasonable hour! Thanks for the reviews, drop me another line if you can, Ta!