"Guys, come look at this," Amanda called as she entered the office. "This is insane."

Curious, Steven and I pushed away from the computer and followed our supervisor to the window. "We have picketers now," Steven asked incredulously. Several stories below us, a dozen or so picketers were camped out in front of the building, waving signs and jeering at the students and faculty unlucky enough to pass them. Several of the university's security guards were milling around close by, but as the protesters were technically not on university property, there was nothing security could do.

"They're armed with food, to boot," she said, absentmindedly shrugging on her lab coat as she watched them. "Or they say they are, anyway. I'm surprised I made it inside without egg in my hair."

I shot her a mischievous look. "At first, were you afraid? Were you…petrified?"

Amanda rolled her eyes and headed to the computers, well-used to me by now. "Oh yeah. I kept thinking I could never live without you by my side."

"Is it wrong that I'm kind of proud we warrant picketers," Steven asked, still watching them from the window. "What are they protesting, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I think they're from C.T.H."

At the name, all three of us groaned. The Church of True Humanity, as they'd named themselves, was a "Christian" fundamentalist extremist sect devoted to "ridding the world of the demons impersonating God's children." Having grown up in a small town in the Bible Belt, I could verify that the group seemed to represent the very worst of the religion they claimed to promote. Even other religious organizations hated them.

They'd taken credit for some of the Specials killings, but to date, not enough evidence ever turned up to convict them. Evidently, "though shall not kill" was a commandment they considered open to interpretation. So far, they were just a small thorn in the otherwise massive paw of science, but rumor had it that they were becoming bolder.

"Dude, that guy's wearing a shirt that says, 'We put the 'fun' in 'fundamental extremism'." Steven looked thrilled. "That's awesome. I want that shirt."

Amanda shot me an amused look and I had to cover a laugh with a coughing fit. "Steven, you'd be a genius if you weren't so A.D.D."

Steven really was brilliant, and I loved his childlike enthusiasm. Sometimes, though, the 19 year old genius had the attention span of a puppy. Amanda and I both secretly agreed that he was the best intern either of us had ever had, but he was something of an idiot savant.

"So where are we," Amanda asked, bringing our attention back to our work. As Steven brought her up to speed on our progress, I began to bring up the new information we'd gotten from our human subjects.

Four hours later, I watched Steven bouncing a tennis ball rhythmically against the wall. Yet again, we had hit another wall and were back at square one.

People seemed to think science worked like a movie montage, with beakers and whirring machines and ground-breaking discoveries made over the course of a few hours. In reality, most of it was mental, sitting around and trying to find what we missed, how we could approach the problem differently, and picking apart our and everyone else's theories.

People got awards for this.

"Scale from one to ten…how sure are we that we can't just use magic," Steven asked.

"Science is just magic without the lies," I pointed out distractedly, still focused on the problems with our current prototype. For every idea we came up with, there always seemed to be a group of Specials whose abilities seemed to completely render the design useless.

The phone next to him started ringing and he picked it up one handed. "Dr. Wolowitz's office. Steven speaking," he answered distractedly. My eyes continued to track the tennis ball's steady progress. After a moment, he caught the ball and spun enough to hold the phone out to me.

I took it. "Doctor Ramsey."

"It's Gabriel."

"Oh, hi, Gabriel! What can I do for you," I asked. Steven's eyebrows flew up in amused surprise at the giant smile and the suddenly high pitch my voice had acquired. Blushing, I made a face and threw a marker at him.

"I finished your father's watch, and I thought I could drop it off while we get dinner."

If it was possible, my blush deepened and my smile got bigger. "That was quite possibly the smoothest line that I've ever heard. Yeah, I'd like that. Actually, if you aren't doing anything tonight, some students invited me to a bar to celebrate finals."

There was a smile in his voice. "I'll pick you up in 20 minutes."

Steven was grinning at me when I hung up. "Hero's got a daaaaate," he sang.

"Jealous?" I didn't even bother trying to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

He snorted. "Please. I've got a live-in girlfriend who is way out of my league."

Amanda didn't look up from the chart she was reading as she walked in. "How much was she? Plastic's getting expensive these days."

"Was that a problem when you 'met' your 'fiancé'," Steven retorted casually, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Children, do I have to give you a time out," I interjected when Amanda opened her mouth to deliver a scathing comeback.

"Hey, Hero, who signs your paycheck, again," Amanda asked pointedly.

"And on that note," I said hastily, deciding to get out of the line of fire, "I'm leaving."

When I saw Gabriel approaching, I realized I wasn't really dressed for a date. He was sharply dressed in a black coat and button down, his dark hair combed sleekly back. Even as I watched, several women (and a few men) actually turned to watch him pass.

I, on the other hand, had planned for a day of relative seclusion in the lab and then drinks with undergrads, and had dressed accordingly. Jeans and battered converses, combined with a t-shirt that read "Physics: why shit does stuff", made me look like one of the many students milling around the campus. At least I was having a good hair day, I reasoned. With a bright, welcoming smile, I walked over to him.

He smiled at me before nodding his head at the protesters across the street. "What's going on over there?"

I shrugged and glanced over at them. "C.T.H. Way I figure, if they're pissed off at us enough to picket, then we must be doing something right."

Gabriel's lip quirked up as he looked at me in amusement. "You realize that your name is on one of those signs."

Surprised, I turned and saw that he was right. One of the protests was holding a sign loudly proclaiming "H. Ramsey Will Burn!" Amanda and two of the other doctors on the study also had signs detailing their imminent destruction.

"Oh, that's fantastic," I breathed, yanking my phone out of my pocket and shoving it in Gabriel's hand. "Gabriel, you have to take a picture of this." I took a few steps away and posed in front of the sign with two thumbs up and a gleeful grin.

Chuckling, Gabriel snapped the picture. "Shall we go to dinner," he asked, watching as I quickly sent the picture to my colleagues. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I grabbed his hand and tugged him down the street. Smiling, he let himself be pulled. "You're enjoying this more than you probably should."

I winked at him, slowing down enough to walk by his side. "Call it a character flaw. So, are you ready to get your drink on with some undergrads? I warn you, though. Undergrads tend to have extraordinary alcohol tolerance. My liver is still wearing the sombrero from last time."

He smiled down at me. "One of my powers is rapid cellular regeneration. Alcohol doesn't affect me."

Taken by surprise by the revelation, I cocked my head to the side. "'One of' your powers," I repeated curiously.

"My actual power is Intuitive Aptitude, which means I understand how other people's powers work, and then I can copy them." He looked strangely wary, as though afraid of how I would react.

"Wow. I may have to commandeer you from the clock business so you can help me with my research," I teased, only half joking.

He arched an eyebrow. "'Commandeer'? Am I a ship?"

I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. "The H.M.S. Booty, and I'm a pirate. Prepare to be boarded. Yaaaar." I finished with a mock salute.

He rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "That was the worst joke I've ever heard."

I snorted. "No, I've got one better. So, a Higgs Boson walks into a catholic church. The priest says, 'I'm sorry, but we don't let Higgs Bosons in here'. The Higgs Boson responds, 'but without me, how do you have mass?!'" Like the first time Amanda told me the joke, I started giggling helplessly. Gabriel, to my surprise, started chuckling, too. "Oh, nerd jokes."

He grinned down at me. "Dork."

"You understood the joke," I pointed out, my hands out as if to say "ta-da!"

His grin widened, but he simply shook his head and held the door for me. I thanked him politely and looked around as he talked to the hostess. It was a small hole-in-the-wall Chinese place, and not too elegant, for which I was thankful. It would have been horribly embarrassing going to a nice restaurant in jeans and ratty converses.

Evidently they knew him here, because the waiter greeted him with cheerful familiarity. I thought I might recognize the kid from campus. Maybe one of the frat boys? "Are you going to want the usual tonight, Gabriel, or do you want me to see what the chef recommends?"

"Let's see what Mr. Qiang recommends," Gabriel answered. "And hot sake, please."

As the kid trotted off, I watched Gabriel. "You seem to have an admirer."

He shrugged. "I gave him some advice once and helped him get into school. He's a nice kid."

Noting that he seemed a little embarrassed, I decided to drop it. "So, you said you had a few powers? Would it be wildly inappropriate to ask what they are?"

The corner of his lip turned up, his dark eyes unblinking under those heavy eyebrows. "That depends. Are you in scientist mode, or are you merely curious?"

I opened my mouth to deliver a snappy comeback, but none was forthcoming. I closed my mouth, settling for honesty instead. "A little of both," I offered hopefully, adding a charming smile for effect.

He stared at me with that unblinking look for so long that I thought he wasn't going to answer, that I'd overstepped some unwritten line. Finally, though, he rewarded me with a real smile. "Fair enough, but don't go too analytical on me. A man needs to have secrets."

I held up my hand, touching my thumb and pinky together. "Scout's honor."

"Well, I never could resist a woman in uniform," he said, amused. "You already know about the intuitive aptitude, telekinesis, and rapid cell regeneration. Over the years, I've also acquired clairsentience, sound manipulation, electrical manipulation, lie detection, shape shifting, disintegration, alchemy, and empathy. Oh, and flight," he added as an afterthought, ticking them off on his fingers.

My jaw was on the floor. Gabriel just looked amused, watching me with a small smile as I tried to process. Mind running at a hundred miles per hour, I didn't even notice the waiter reappear with food and sake until a plate was placed in front of me. I jumped, but managed to collect myself in time to thank the kid.

Quickly, I tried to recover and say something clever as Gabriel lifted an eyebrow and poured me some sake. "Holy shit," I blurted, then flushed in embarrassment. Gabriel just laughed. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "So, how does shape shifting feel? Does it hurt, or is it like changing clothes?"

Dinner flew by, but we didn't notice. Gabriel simply answered my questions patiently and occasionally asked some of his own, usually about my research. We both answered what we could, but there were times where I was obligated to protect my subjects' anonymity, or where Gabriel didn't want to answer. Still, it was the most interesting and, oddly, amusing conversations I'd ever had.

Gabriel had just finished telling me about the trial and error period he'd had with clairsentience involving accidentally touching a strange man's underwear in the Laundromat, when I caught sight of my wrist watch. "Oh, my gosh. It's 9 o'clock," I realized. "I still need to go home and change."

"We should go if you want to meet your students," he commented. Gabriel had paid and tipped generously ("I can literally make gold. Let me get the check."), so we simply wished the waiter a good night and left. We caught a cab, and after a brief stop at my apartment to change, we headed back out.

The bar was already busy when we arrived, loud music pounding through the speakers. I recognized it vaguely as one of Alex Clare's. Too Close, maybe? I made a mental note to stop letting Steven control the music when we were in the lab.

Taking Gabriel's hand, I pulled him through the crowd to where I'd seen a group of my students sitting at a high table. Monica, a transfer student from New Orleans with a knack for physics, waved me over, her eyes widening as she took in my outfit. Given that she'd only seen me in conservative business attire, I couldn't blame her. "Wow, Doctor Ramsey. You look great," she exclaimed, giving me an approving up-and-down look. Tyler wolf-whistled loudly.

Gabriel held a chair out for me and I climbed on, arching an eyebrow at the undergrads. "Believe it or not, even professors have lives." Honestly, I wasn't dressed terribly revealing, anyway. I was still wearing jeans, but I'd changed into a halter top that showed off my back tattoos (which Gabriel had commented on with approval). "And since you unruly bastards are no longer my students," I said, with a wink as Gabriel took the empty seat next to me, "call me Hero. This is my date, Gabriel."

As Gabriel and my students traded names and pleasantries, I stopped the Shooter Girl as she passed and bought a round for the table. "Congratulations, because all of you passed my class," I said, holding up my shot glass. "You fuckers are someone else's problem now." Laughing, everyone downed the tequila, pounding the empty glasses on the table.

"We're expecting some other people," Tyler commented hoarsely. "Claire said she would be a little late, but everyone else should be here soon."

"Speak of the devil," Monica commented, looking past my shoulder. I turned to see Levi, the shy genius, approaching with a pitcher and a stack of glasses.

"I'm going to go get something better than bud light," I said dryly in Gabriel's ear. Impulsively, I pressed a kiss to his cheek, quickly departing for the bartender before he could react.

The bar was packed with people, and by the time I made it back to the table, several more students had arrived. Everyone at the table was locked into what appeared to be an animated discussion, judging by the way everyone was leaning in.

Smiling in welcome to the newcomers, I put a hand on Gabriel's back and tried to figure out what they were talking about. Realizing I was back, Gabriel looked at the student who had taken my chair. "That's her seat," he said.

"But-"

"Now." Gabriel's tone brooked no argument, and I smiled as the undergrad scampered away. Taking my seat, I arched an amused eyebrow at Gabriel. He looked a little embarrassed.

Trying to smother that secret, knowing smile all women get when a boy shows how much he likes her, I slid a glass over to him. "I got two Long Islands. So what are we talking about?"

"Specials," Monica said. "You're the lead on the NYU project, right?"

I shrugged. "Sort of. Technically, Dr. Amanda Wolowitz is my supervisor and head of the research committee, but I'm the one who actually does the work."

"I read your dissertation on the Suresh Particle." The speaker was an older man who I'd never seen before, but as he was sitting at the table, I assumed he was with one of the students. "It was impressive research."

"Thank you," I said, surprised.

"What's the Suresh Particle," Amy, Tylers's pretty girlfriend, asked curiously.

I started to answer, but the stranger beat me to it. His eyes were as piercing as Gabriel's as they watched me, but there was something predatory about them. "Dr. Ramsey earned her doctorate and tenure at NYU based on her research proving the existence of the particle. She named it after Dr. Chandra Suresh. It's a particle all around us and in us - much like hydrogen or oxygen - which only Specials have the ability to manipulate."

"I'm flattered, Mr…" I trailed off leadingly.

"Forgive me. My manners seem to have abandoned me." He held out his hand. "Dr. Goswami."

I shook it. "Dr. Ramsey, and this is my friend Gabriel."

Dr. Goswami extended his hand to Gabriel's, but accidentally knocked over a beer bottle. Amy yelped in surprise when she was soaked, but Dr. Goswami's profuse apologies calmed her down. She quickly went to the bathroom to clean herself off.

"Oh, my. That was embarrassing, especially in front of someone of whom I am such a fan," Dr. Goswami twittered.

"Accidents happen," Gabriel said, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"I must confess that I'm curious about your research," Dr. Goswami continued, leaning in and pushing his thick glasses up his nose. "Is it true that you are working on a way to block these abilities?"

Slightly uncomfortable, I unconsciously shifted closer to Gabriel, who casually put an arm across the back of my chair. "Yes. Our goal is to create a device – maybe an implant for permanency, or something you clip onto a belt or necklace that can be removed – that stops a Special's ability to manipulate the Suresh Particle. Theoretically, it would work like a mirror, preventing them from affecting particles outside the field, but would otherwise allow them to interact normally with people and objects." Something occurred to me, and I added, "How did you hear about that, anyway? I thought it was classified."

Dr. Goswami gave a conspiratorial smile. "Well, perhaps to the public, it is. But in certain circles, your name is becoming synonymous with progress."

Sensing my discomfort, Gabriel intervened. "Hero, would you like to dance?" Surprised and relieved, I nodded and smiled. "Excuse us, Doctor."

I thanked him as he escorted me through the crowd to the dance floor by a hand on the small of my back. "I'm not sure what it is, but something about that man sets me on edge."

"You should be on edge," he said casually. "Especially as he came strictly for you. None of your students displayed any physical indication that they knew him. That man is hiding something, for all he never actually lied."

Surprised, I froze and looked at him. Without missing a beat, Gabriel took my hand and spun me out slightly, then back into his chest. Though the song was typical club-grinding music, Gabriel managed to dance in a way that didn't make me feel like we were having sex on the dance floor.

The music on the dance floor was too loud to actually talk and keeping up with Gabriel required all my focus, for which I was grateful. As the DJ changed the songs, I focused on just enjoying myself.

Gradually, I began to lose myself in those dark eyes, in the strong hands on my hips, in the bass so strong that I felt it in my bones.

Every touch of his warm hands on bare skin seemed like a lightning bolt. The press of dozens of hot bodies and the buzz of alcohol went to my head, and if I rubbed against him a little more than strictly necessary, he didn't seem to mind.

He spun me again, and I suddenly found myself with my back pressed against his chest, our hips rocking seamlessly to the beat. His hands moved slowly up my sides, finally reaching my arms and pulling them back around his neck. Gabriel pulled me to lean back against him, almost supporting my weight.

His breath was hot against my neck, his hands beginning a gradual descent back down, caressing my bare skin with the backs of his fingers, his hips rocking against mine. For an agonizingly long time, our lips were just a breath away from each other. He didn't kiss me, dragging the moment out endlessly. I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling, that intoxicating moment right before a kiss.

When Gabriel pressed a kiss to my cheek and pulled away abruptly, my eyes flew open in surprise. Much to my irritation, Monica was approaching. "God save me from cockblocking undergrads," I muttered. Gabriel, still close enough to hear, chuckled low in my ear.

"Doct…Hero," she corrected herself, "the graduating seniors are doing a round, and we wanted you there."

Casting an amused look over my shoulder at Gabriel, I let her take my hand and tug me back to the table. To my relief, Dr. Goswami had left. On the other hand, the sheer amount of shot glasses crammed onto the table told me that this wasn't going to end well.

The small group of my graduating physics students was gathered around the table, and all were staring at me expectantly. Monica and Tyler smiled encouragingly at me. "Oh, I'm supposed to say something," I asked, amused. I could feel Gabriel behind me, his hand possessively on my hip. "Alright. I've only known you for a semester, but you guys are going to change the world. When you accept that diploma tomorrow, you will be become heirs to the proud and sometimes painful heritage of science. Follow your gut, dream big, and use your skills and knowledge to better humanity. Above all...never lose your passion for telling other people why they're wrong, and then backing it up with irrefutable data."

Laughing, everyone picked up the shot glasses. "Here here," Tyler said, and we all downed our shots.

When I didn't immediately pick up another, Allison clucked her tongue and put another in my hand. "We made a pact to get our favorite teacher drunk."

"Oh, god." Smiling, I downed another one, pulling on my years as an undergrad to strengthen my liver.

Twenty minutes and a not-insignificant amount of tequila later, I was pleasantly drunk, tucked safely under Gabriel's arm. I giggled as he told a story about the first time he'd ever gotten drunk. Deciding I needed to "break the seal", I made a quick apology and headed off to the bathroom, Monica hot on my heels.

"He's really nice," she commented as we washed our hands and checked ourselves in the mirror. "And he seems to really like you."

I smiled at her. "I really like him, too. This isn't what I would normally do on a first date, but he sort of sprang it on me."

"He seems to be having fun, though. And don't think I didn't notice how you two were dancing," she added mischievously. I blushed, making her laugh, and we headed back to the table.

When I came in sight of the table, my heart sank. Claire had finally arrived, and was currently arguing with Gabriel for some reason. If looks could kill, Gabriel would be skewered to the wall. He appeared calm, though everyone else at the table was so tense and bewildered they would probably shatter if touched wrong. Grabbing Monica's hand, I hurried over.

"Is there a problem," I asked.

Claire's eyes were blazing as glared at Gabriel, ignoring me. "Sylar, I don't know why you're stalking me again, but if you touch any of my friends or family, I will put you down like a rabid dog."

Confusion morphed into alarm at her words, and I stepped between them. "Claire," I said firmly, using my calm professor voice. Her eyes finally focused on me. "I don't know how you two know each other, or what your problem with Mr. Gray is, but your behavior is unbecoming of an NYU student."

The shorter blond looked at me with incredulous indignation. "Are you insane? Don't you know who he is? What he's done? He's a monster!"

Irritation flared, aided by the alcohol in my system. Gabriel started to answer, but I put a silencing hand on his leg. My voice was icy and controlled as I looked down at her, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "Miss Bennet, regardless of your personal feelings towards this man, you will remember that even if I am no longer your instructor, you are still speaking to a tenured university professor, and you will address me with respect. When you can calmly explain yourself and provide evidence for these claims, I will listen." I stared at her like a parent with a recalcitrant child.

She glared at me for a moment, before closing her eyes and making a conscious effort to calm down. Finally, she opened her eyes and explained. "I don't know what he's told you, but this man is the serial killer named Sylar. He's practically the boogyman of the Specials' World. He's murdered dozens of people."

It seemed incredibly far fetched, but I was a scientist first and foremost. "Alright, Miss Bennet. You've presented your claim. Do you have evidence to back it up?"

She hesitated for a second. Then, before anyone could stop her, she took a pen from the table and stabbed Gabriel in the heart. There was a moment when everyone froze, no one able to believe what had just happened. It felt like time stopped. But then Gabriel, with a resigned sigh, pulled it out the pen, three inches of it covered with blood. As I watched, the wound healed.

"Sylar stole that power from me, when he broke into my house," Claire said grimly.

Truly speechless for the first time in my life, my eyes flew up to meet Gabriel's, silently asking if she was right. Instead of answering, he looked over my shoulder at the blond. "Claire, my name is Gabriel. You know I'm not that man anymore. Jesus, Peter even made me Best Man at his wedding. How many more people need to verify it before you'll believe me?"

It felt like the floor had fallen out from under me, but I forced my shoulders to straighten and my head to turn to Claire. I shoved the turbulent emotions back, knowing I couldn't deal with them yet. "Claire, in the time I've known him, Gabriel's behavior has been above reproach. In fact, I am indebted to him for saving my life. You, however, have just physically and verbally assaulted a man in an unprovoked attack. Next time you point a finger, little miss, I'll point you to the mirror."

Not feeling like staying, I threw sixty bucks on the table to pay for our drinks, before calmly making my way out of the bar. With a herculean effort, I managed to keep a rein on my emotions long enough to hail a cab and get home.

Gabriel scared the crap out of me when I opened my apartment door to see him standing in my living room. "Jesus Christ, Gabriel," I sighed, throwing my keys on the table in irritation. He made no move to come closer, as though afraid he would startle me. For some reason, this pissed me off even more. "For God's sake, I don't think you're going to kill me," I snapped. "Now what do you want?"

If he was relieved that I was angry instead of afraid, it didn't show. "We need to talk about this."

"Talk about what," I asked testily, pouring myself some water. "Everyone has a past. You were under no obligation to tell me about yours, even if it is more colorful than mine."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not exactly something you bring up on the first date. 'Hey, Hero, I happen to be a reformed murderer who stole powers from people who I thought didn't deserve them. Do you want Chinese for dinner?'" His mocking voice made me grit my teeth, but I couldn't refute his logic.

"And how, exactly, does one reform a serial killer," I asked sarcastically.

"By locking him in a nightmare for four years," he snapped. Surprised, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Gabriel ran a tired hand through his hair, looking suddenly defeated. "A telepath locked me in a nightmare. I was alone in New York for four years. 1,460 days of complete isolation and I can remember each one. Claire's uncle, Peter Petrelli, saved me. He locked himself in there with me, and he saved me."

"Peter Petrelli…the frontman for the Special's Movement?" Mr. Petrelli had personally toured my lab and thanked my team for our work. He seemed like a good man.

Gabriel nodded, leaning against the counter. "I know what Claire thinks of me, and God knows she has every reason to hate me. But I need you to know that I'm not that man. I…I'm at peace. And for the first time since the Revelation, I actually have something to hope for," he admitted softly. Gabriel didn't seem the type to say things like that lightly. That he was opening up to me had my attention.

All my anger dissipated at once. If I had a past that I regretted, wouldn't I want someone, just one person, to give me a chance? Though I hadn't known him long, Gabriel had been as honest with me as he could be, and had been kinder to me than anyone else in this city. If I already trusted him with my life, then what was I angry about?

Slowly, I walked over to him, and cupped his face. His eyes, so dark and unreadable, looked into mine. Gently, I pressed my lips to his, once, twice; chaste kisses, kisses of forgiveness and understanding and apologies. And then he was kissing me back, his hands on my waist pulling me against him.

The kiss was so, so sweet, but gradually grew heated. Gabriel grabbed my thighs and spun, setting me on the counter with my legs around him. He buried a hand in my hair, moving his mouth to my neck, and I couldn't suppress a breathy moan.

Knowing I was drunk and my judgment impaired, I decided to tap the breaks before we did something I might regret. When we broke for air, I rested my forehead against his. "We should stop. I'm drunk and a little emotional, and I don't want to ruin a good thing before it even starts."

I could feel the rapid pounding of his heart beneath my hands, but he once again played the gentleman and pulled back. "You're right," he said simply. "But I'd like to see you again, if you're ok with it."

I smiled. "I'd like that, too."

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