3

Ladies Man

February 14, 2006 - 30 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered

"I still don't understand why I can't just kill him and get it over with."

"Claire," Noah sighed, pulling his glasses off to wipe them clean, "we've been over this. Whether he's taken any powers yet or not, we know that his ability has already manifested. And if his files that you brought back mean anything, he's more than capable of being extremely dangerous -"

"So we kill him already!"

"Claire." He kept his tone even but she could tell that he was beginning to lose his patience. "Gabriel Gray is a very intelligent individual. All of his psychological analysis indicates that he's also hyperaware of his surroundings and the actions of others. With his background we can safely assume that he's naturally suspicious -"

"In other words, he's paranoid. I could have told you that much." She let her head slump against the glass of the Primatech van, her mind drifting to past experiences. Her father knew the appropriate details about Sylar and the things that he had done, including the opening of her skull so that he could take her ability for himself, but she could feel that he also knew there were certain things that hadn't been documented. Thankfully Noah didn't ask many questions. He seemed to sense that it was painful enough to relive in her own memories without sharing and left it alone.

"If we make our move too soon there is a good chance that he would pick up on it and lash out. And I'm not going to put you in harm's way like that. We're going to follow the plan that Angela set up. You'll get close to him and earn his trust so that he doesn't suspect a thing. Once he's a little more… predictable for us, we'll finish it."

"Whatever," she mumbled sullenly cracking the van door open. René leaned forward from his perch behind them to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. The Haitian gave her a nod of reassurance which Claire returned with a faint sad smile and jumped out. Once the door had slammed shut and she was on her way up the block he climbed into the front seat watching after her for a moment.

"Are you going tell her about Angela's plans, or are we just following orders for now?"

Noah sighed heavily and slumped back into his seat, replacing his glasses. "The less she knows right now, the better. We have to keep her focused, and that means… following orders." The Haitian looked back through the window to where their young charge had last been visibly walking.

"This isn't going to end well."

Gabriel Gray had been pacing somewhat anxiously through the shop while expecting the arrival of his newest client. When a flash of blonde hair caught his attention from the corner of his eye, he looked towards the shop window to see her marching past it determinedly. He hesitated for a brief moment, wringing his hands over the decision of whether to stay and greet her, or dash for his back room workstation. At the last second he darted for the back, not wanting to appear as though he had been waiting specifically for her all afternoon though that notion may have been more true than he wanted to admit to himself.

Claire cracked the shop door open to peek her head inside, flinching when the little bell overhead announced her presence unexpectedly. So much for the element of surprise. Ticks and tocks greeted her through the silence much as they had the previous day and she found the underlying stillness unnerving. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow in search of the demon that inhabited the store, her hand clenched tightly over the purse containing her gun until her knuckles bruised white.

Gabriel leaned into the door frame of his workroom listening to her steady movements around the front and released the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. Taking a bold and confident step out, he greeted the girl with a simple, "Hello."

She nearly left her skin behind when she jumped backward at the sudden interruption in the peace. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as she stuttered out a habitual, "Hello," in return. They stood there awkwardly staring at one another for a brief moment, neither quite able to figure out a next move.

"I'm sorry I -"

"I came back for the -" They both began to speak at the same time so that their voices overlapped one another. A second prolonged quiet pause accented the air as he studied her wide-eyed expression of surprise laced with just a touch of fear, and she shifted her stance uncomfortably trying to look anywhere but directly back at him.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," Gabriel apologized quietly, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"You didn't," Claire proclaimed obstinately. She had to use a good bit of force to keep from scowling at him bitterly as he quirked his head to the side in another attempt to read her. "I came back for the watch."

"Um, right." Gabriel blinked and turned back to the entrance of his work area, hesitating for a split second too long. Claire felt her fingers start to slide into her purse, ready to pull out the revolver if he made an unexpected move. He disappeared behind the frame and she took a few ginger steps in the same direction to follow without even thinking about where her feet were potentially leading her.

Gabriel glanced over to his table where the two Sylar watches were ready for presentation, both in perfect working order, tick, tick, ticking away in timed sync with one another. With a rushed decision he moved away from the table and instead made for the little bathroom off to the side, stopping in front of the mirror to neatly comb a few stray hairs back into place before returning to the store front. The awkward counterparts almost collided with one another when he reappeared, sending Claire stumbling backwards. Gabriel thoughtlessly reacted to catch her before she could fall, taking hold of her arm to pull her back so that her balance overcorrected. Instead of being replaced in her original position, she fell forward into him, instinctively reaching out for the stability of his shoulders.

In reality they were only in direct contact for a heart's beat length of time, but it was long enough for her to look up at him in stark terror, and for his eyes to widen in shock before they quickly detached themselves. Gabriel stammered another rushed apology and stalked away to the front counter in search of a familiar position of control over the embarrassing situation. Claire was left behind to openly gawk at his retreating form before she remembered herself and composed her features.

"Um, the watch?" she asked with what she had hoped would be a critical confidence while she was subconsciously wrapping her arms around herself for security after the violation of her personal space and dignity.

"The watch?" Gabriel's brow line lifted absent-mindedly when he was suddenly reminded of the business at stake. "Right," he drummed his fingers on the glass of the counter much to Claire's irritation. "Your watch, I, um, didn't have as much time to get to it as I thought I would."

Real smooth, Gabriel. A girl like that isn't going to believe that someone like you has a life. You're an idiot for dragging this out. It's not like she's going to give you another thought after she gets what she wants anyways.

He watched her facial expressions morph from the façade of self-righteous superiority into some convoluted mixture of disgruntled surprise and bitter disappointment, to flat anger, and then back to a composed air of confidence that was all too easy to see through. He doubted that she even registered her own emotional revolutions as clearly as he did. There was something out of place about her, an obvious unease that was both intimidating, and screaming of fear at the same time. Quickly working through her cultivated demeanor and attitude in conjunction with the wariness of her eyes and reactions to his every motion as well as her open repulsion to any form of touch, a dawning of understanding came over him. Gabriel inwardly cursed himself for not seeing it before. The girl, this Claire, was some kind of trauma victim. She was clearly working through issues that had left her a bit broken, and there he was practically hitting on her.

Great. Not only is she out of your league and probably jail bait, but you're setting yourself up to take advantage of her while she's damaged and vulnerable. Pervert.

He couldn't exactly go back to get the watch for her after saying that it wasn't finished though. She's staring at you like you're a moron. Say something already. Gabriel wasn't sure how long he had spent musing, but it was apparently enough time for Claire to start studying him through narrowed eyes like he was some species of disgusting insect on the slide of a microscope. "I'll have it done for you first thing tomorrow morning," he promised, quietly ignoring her lapse of composure when she snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, then. I guess I'll be back tomorrow." Claire started for the door but lingered just short of exiting, staring up at the little bell in distaste. She was biting her lower lip in deep thought about something and he wasn't entirely sure if it would be more rude to wish her a good day, inadvertently ushering her out the door that much quicker, or to just slink away to the protection of his workroom and leave her there to her ponderings. So he just stood there indecisively, feeling trapped by her continued presence.

"Would you like to go out sometime?" she asked while purposely avoiding his eyes and attempting to mask revulsion over the idea, bile rising in the back of her throat.

Had he been taking a drink of something at the time, Gabriel was more than sure he would have been forced to either spit it out or choke on it. He had intended to extend his possession of her wrist watch in order to see her again, hers being the youngest and undoubtedly most attractive face that had visited the shop in years, but never in his wildest dreams imagined taking it farther than that. "Excuse me?" He shook his head to clear the rush of adrenaline that had entered his system wondering if he had heard her correctly and not accidentally fallen into some fantastic day dream.

Claire shuddered, swallowing hard, and repressing the urge to either vomit or shoot him on the spot. Surely he was purposefully making her ask such a ridiculous question a second time as torture. "Would you like to go out sometime?" she repeated, clearly enunciating each word with a snobbish tone.

"With you?" He felt a resounding need for clarification in the face of the impossible. She couldn't actually be interested in him. He was sure of that. And he had heard far more than his fair share of taunts and cruel jokes from girls like her before. "Like a date?" he stuttered.

"Yeah?" she answered in agitation, her temper starting to flare. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to flipping kill him right now. If it wasn't for the memory of her exasperated father telling her not to do so that flickered at that specific time she may have actually gone through with the act. But she was under direct orders to do otherwise. The mission, Claire. The mission, she forcefully reminded herself.

Warning signals started flashing in Gabriel's mind. This can't be right. "Sorry, but I have to ask… How old are you?" He took in her youthful appearance again from the slightly juvenile fashion sense of her clothing to the innocent air about her. Despite her hard-nosed mentality, there was a clear lack of guile that years of age and experience would have placed there. It was all too easy to imagine her as some spoiled Manhattan teenager that had run away from home and gone in search of a "sugar daddy" to take care of her or piss her parents off. Maybe even a young con artist looking for an easy score to laugh about later. I must have "sucker" stamped on my forehead.

Claire instantly detected the suggestion behind his question. She knew she would never hear the end of that particular inquiry since she was doomed to remain more or less unchanging from the time her ability had manifested, perpetually sixteen for all the days of her inevitably, unnaturally long life, but it never ceased to incense her. "I'm nineteen," she declared all but a single decibel in volume from shouting at him.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. For a moment she felt a pang of dread creep up in her gut that he was on to her. A mental image of Sylar flicking his wrist to send her crashing into a wall so that he could cut her open all over again made her wince, gripping her purse tightly so that she wouldn't lose the opportunity to take a shot at him if he did.

Instead he replied, "I don't have any money," in a flat voice that had her furrowing her brows in confusion. And then she caught on to the meaning of the statement.

"I don't remember asking you about money," she hissed, stinging from the insult. I can't believe this. First, he's asking me about my age like he ever had a problem with it before, and now he's calling me a damn gold digger. What an ass. Wait… Why am I insulted over this? I don't care what he thinks.

"Look, I don't know what you're after, but I'm not biting. I'll have your watch for you tomorrow like I said." Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest to provide himself an emotional barrier from being rejected or taken advantage of.

"What? You… Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, I wanted to ask you because you seem like a nice guy?" her hands flew up in the air in frustration. Not. "Or that I could actually want to get to know you because I think you're interesting… or something?" Lie.

Gabriel's defenses deflated even though his hackles were raised and his muscles were tensed to carry on the argument from her abrasive attack. "I -" he started, stumbling for the right words to comeback at her with. "I -" he grunted in resignation, letting his knuckles fall to the glass of the counter with a loud clacking sound. "I'm sorry," he conceded, the flush from his own temper fading away. "I just - I don't…" He made a low throaty noise as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I guess I just ruined it." Good going, Gabriel. If she was interested before, she sure isn't now. You really have a way with the ladies, don't you?

He looked up at her, and even though his eyes were not the hardened shark-like orbs of the serial killer she remembered, without his glasses the likeness to that monster had her taking a step back. The chorus of ticks and tocks supplied the pregnant pause with something to listen to while she rattled around in her own head for something to say that wasn't a scream or obscenity. The mission, Claire. The mission. That mantra seemed to be the only thing keeping her from fleeing or dealing with later consequences for dropping him where he stood. She breathed a sigh of relief, the image of lodging a bullet square between the eyes of her personal tormentor becoming a macabre refresher for her confidence.

"No you didn't," she smiled with saccharine sweetness. And then he smirked at her. Maybe it wasn't the vicious expression of the Sylar that had gloated about killing her father, but it was a familiar smirk all the same serving to bring back the heat of rage to her face.

"Okay, um." He missed out on the contemptuous glare she couldn't help shooting at him by looking down and running a distracted hand through his hair. "If you still want to, go out I mean, I'm uh, free I guess." He peeked up at her hesitantly.

"Tonight. At 7:00. I'll meet you here," she directed, seizing the opportunity to take charge. Claire didn't even wait for his agreement. She turned on her heel and exited through the door, gritting her teeth over the tinkle of the bell, and marched back to the Primatech van holding Noah and the Haitian with a smug grin of impending victory on her lips. I take that back. First, I'm going to rip out that stupid bell, and then I'm going to kill him.

Gabriel remained at the counter with his jaw hanging open, watching her flit past the shop window absolutely flustered and trying to wrap his mind around what had just transpired.

To be continued...