Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

17 December, 2009

"You're kidding," the blonde snorted, "you actually ordered a Christmas tree! Can you even do that?"

"Well I did," Sylar informed her bluntly. "The concierge was very helpful. He even arranged to find us some decorations."

"It's just so ridiculous," Claire curled up on her stomach in front of a crackling orange and red fire. "This whole thing, trip, whatever, is ridiculous."

She was right. Sylar had booked the penthouse suite in a five-star hotel in the center of Chicago. Everything was opulent, the service was astounding. It was the kind of vacation that Claire always dreamed about, upon the revelation that she was actually a Petrelli, Claire's dream became more feasible and impossible all in one step. She got to live small aspects of the upper-class life, but she was barred from truly enjoying it. The illegitimate daughter of a politician was not embraced heartily and offered everything on a platter.

It wasn't that Claire had grown up wanting. Growing up in the Bennet household had been more than adequate. Claire had wanted for nothing, she may not have gotten everything she wanted, but she had more than she needed. They took family trips, she did get a car, she had mounds of clothing and shoes, and Claire had amassed a sizeable collection of teddy-bears from around the world.

This, however, truly being a part of the upper-crust, was a new experience. Not once had Claire felt like the illegitimate child who was best kept out of sight. The staff had spoken to her as if she were an adult, and, Claire had to remind herself, she was.

"It's nice," Sylar agreed. "When I was kid we had this little plastic tree that was painted white, and the ornaments were from the gas station, it never really felt the like the Christmases I saw on TV."

"Nothing is like it is on the TV," Claire informed him. "Trust me, I have a bounty of examples."

"Any standouts," the dark haired man yawned from the couch, sipping a cup of coffee slowly.

"Being homecoming queen," Claire offered. "I'm pretty sure that was supposed to be a magical moment, not so much. I was honestly shocked no one dumped pig's blood on me."

"Weak."

Claire rolled on her back, stretching lazily on the soft rug. "Well," the blonde considered, "all of my previous boyfriends have been jerks."

"That's actually what is shown on TV," Sylar refuted.

The fire popped loudly as Claire considered her life. "My real mother took money from my real dad and lied to me about him not wanting to meet me. Aren't family reunions supposed to be all happy tears?"

"I'll give you that," the coffee cup hit the table with a click. "Families on TV shows are lies."

"Wouldn't it be nice if they weren't," Claire lifted her legs into the air, letting them fall over her head, nearly touching the ground above her head.

"Maybe," Sylar stood up so he could lay down beside Claire. "But imagine how weird that would be."

"True," she relaxed her body, legs falling back to the carpet. "I spent fifteen years thinking I had the perfect family, it was so creepy."

Sylar raised an eyebrow, curling up to Claire and pressing his lips to her cheek, a tender gesture of comfort. "So I've convinced you that a tree is the perfect thing," he dropped a hand on her stomach, thumb stroking slowly along the firm flesh, making her squirm a little.

"I don't know if convinced is the right word," Claire turned her head so she was nose to nose with Sylar.

"It's happening," Sylar told her with a peck to her lips.

The door swung open smoothly revealing a tall, young man who smiled politely and explained he was there to help install their tree.

"Come on in," Claire smiled bemused. "We cleared a spot in the living room."

"Of course," the man stepped inside, ushering Claire away from the door so the tree could be carried in. "This is a beautiful tree, I'm sure you will love it."

"Thanks," Claire sputtered unsure of quite how to respond.

The man nodded, smiling broadly, "And how are you enjoying your stay, Miss?"

"It's nice. Really nice."

"Wonderful," a hand pressed gently against Claire's lower back, "if there is anything I can do to make your stay better, I will personally see to it."

Claire wasn't quite sure how to respond so she just smiled tightly and nodded, stepping out of the man's reach.

"There you are, Sweetheart," Sylar's low voice wrapped around Claire, quickly followed by Sylar's arm as he leant down and pressed a searing kiss to her mouth. It was a demanding kiss, Claire whimpered as he took control of her mouth, she slipped a hand up to curl at the nape of his neck reflexively, grateful that one of his arms was cradling her and keeping her upright.

He pulled away languidly, pressing a lazy kiss to her temple, his gaze locked on the man who had been flirting unsuccessfully with Claire. Glancing back down, he pulled her into his side. Claire looked up at him, her arm tightening around his waist in silent thanks, "The tree is here, we'll get to decorate it tonight."

"That we will," Sylar smiled easily, "hey, thanks, kid." It was a clear dismissal of the interloper, and if that wasn't clear enough, Sylar turned Claire around and ushered her back into the heart of the suite.

When they had settled into the living room with two men securing the tree, Claire snuggled further into Sylar's side, "Thanks."

"You're my girl," Sylar gave her his explanation.

Claire sighed deeply as she relaxed, completely comfortable lying in Sylar's arms as Christmas began to come alive thirty stories about the snow-covered ground. "So what kind of decorations do you want," she asked curiously.

"I don't know, just no snowglobes," Sylar chuckled, shifting a little lower on the couch. "Those little beads on a string?"

"Garland," Claire told him, "what about lights?"

"I always like the white ones," Sylar admitted, "they always seemed less garish."

"Me too, they're less commercial."

"Glass ornaments or all different ones," Sylar asked.

Claire rested her head against his chest, enjoying the sound of his steady heartbeat as it soothed her, "Mostly glass, silver and red."

"Sounds nice," Sylar used his arm to pull Claire a little closer.

The pair sat looking at the tree, the men setting it up quickly disappearing, leaving the couple alone. Sylar and Claire whispered quietly about all of their plans and imaginings of their first Christmas together. They were very aware that this was their chance to make up for the bad memories and lackluster experiences, both Claire and Sylar were ready to seize the chance.

A/N: 17/25. We are winding up and down. Two days of work left! I am psyched. Happy Holidays all.