8

The Sweetest Paradox

February 22, 2006 - 22 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered

"Claire," Noah insistently wrapped his knuckles for entrance again, "honey, open the door. I know you're in there." She nestled deeper into her cocoon of blankets and pulled her pillow over her head to drown out the sounds of her father. "Claire, I don't know what happened, but if you just let me in we can talk it out. Come up with a plan… Something."

What happened? What happened? I practically made out with my arch nemesis! The Hannibal freaking Lecter of the 'special' world! The guy who injected my mother with adrenaline so that she would blow up Primatech. The guy who slit my father's throat and watched him bleed out in the same room that he had basically promised to spend eternity personally tormenting me… The guy who cut my head open to rape my brain for another stupid power.

And I kissed him. A lot. There may have even been a little tongue involved, I can't remember. But that is what happened.

"Claire, did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?" Would have been so much easier if he did. Maybe then I could hate him for it. "Alright. That's it. This mission is over," Noah vowed. "We're going to finish this and be done with it." She thought she could just make out the sound of a pistol's magazine being dropped and reinserted.

"No!" she cried out, launching herself from the nest of bedding. Claire ripped open the door of her hotel room without regard to her disheveled state. Her father's eyes widened in surprise and the Haitian respectfully turned his gaze away from the sight of her nightgown. "Don't kill him," she pleaded before the words tumbling from her mouth registered their meaning in her own mind. "That's my job," she quickly corrected.

"René, do you mind?" The Haitian nodded and took up a posting position beside the door to patiently wait while Noah spoke with his daughter. "You've been avoiding your job," he started after closing the door behind him.

"I know," she mumbled.

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and gave her the same look that he had when she was younger and had neglected her share of the house chores. "Claire, this isn't something that you can quit just because you've lost interest in it."

"It isn't like that."

"Then what is it? I already told you that if you're not up to the task of… finishing this, all you have to do is say the word." Claire dejectedly flopped back on to her bed.

"No. I need to do this, Dad. He - Sylar was a monster."

"Claire Bear," he came to sit on the mattress beside her, "I know that you started this mission because you felt like you have what it takes, but I know you kiddo, and you're not a killer. And that's okay. Heck," he removed his glasses to polish an imaginary spot off of one of the lenses, "that's better than okay. I'm proud that you're better than that. Better than me."

"Dad, I kissed him," she confessed in a rush and waited with bated breath to see what his reaction would be.

"Not that proud," he muttered sternly, replacing his glasses to give her a calculating look. Noah sighed heavily having seen something written in his daughter's eyes. "You're having doubts about the mission?"

Claire rolled over so that her back was turned to him. "I don't feel like it's the same guy," she spoke in hushed whispers. "I mean, obviously he is. He looks the same… kind of. His voice is the same. He smells the same. He looks at me the same." She missed Noah's concerned frown at the mention of the last detail. "The screwed up background and the ability… Some of the things he says and does. It's all there. Everything Sylar is already there just waiting to get out."

"But?"

"But… He's just… Gabriel." She rolled back over to look into her father's worried eyes. "He's still a little strange, but he's not a psycho. I've tried to feel Sylar in there, believe me I have."

"You think he's innocent." Claire bit her bottom lip with downcast eyes of shame. "Claire Bear," he started again, taking a moment to think out his next words, "you're the only reason we know about Gray at this point. He wasn't even on our radar until you came along with verified reports of this Sylar character that he became. As far as we can tell he hasn't shown any kind of abnormal behavior or abilities. No history of violence except for one incident in high school we found on his record. But even then a sympathetic teacher had come forward to say that he had been provoked. Right now he doesn't even have an unpaid parking ticket out to get him."

"He doesn't have a car."

"You know what I mean." The edges of her frown lifted the slightest bit. "Up until this point Gabriel Gray has lived an exceptionally… normal life." Claire couldn't help but notice his pointed use of the word "normal" in place of the boring she knew Noah was thinking. "Believe me, I've been looking for anything that might be Sylar in him too. All I can say is that it's a good thing René is there to help keep me awake. Watching all those tapes…" He shook his head fervently at the thought. "I had to switch back to caffeinated coffee." She almost smiled at the sentiment.

"So he is innocent?" And blissfully dull?

"For the moment," Noah agreed making his stipulation of temporary status clear.

"What if," Claire sat up to be in her father's direct line of sight for sincerity, "we made sure that that never changed?" He peaked an eyebrow in interest, urging her to continue. "What if we can make it so that he never meets Dr. Suresh? He would never even find out that he has an ability, or that there are people out there with them."

"Is that what you think we should do?"

She tugged her lip between her teeth again while waging an internal debate. On one hand, if she did just put an end to his life there would be absolutely no risk of Sylar ever coming about, and that was after all her primary objective. A rather large part of her still enthusiastically entertained the idea of watching the life drain from his eyes, but then that other much more annoying conscience-stricken side of her mind had to pipe up with its opinion. Gabriel hadn't done anything wrong. Never mind the yet. There was a risk involved with allowing him to continue living as the dorky watchmaker from Queens, but not one that couldn't be taken care of should the need arise. No one would have to die.

"I think we should exhaust all of our options."

Noah allowed a slow smile to creep over his lips. "I still can't believe you're not my little girl anymore."

"I'm still Claire Bear," she assured with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, but now you're all grown up. Making decisions. Becoming a levelheaded young woman." He sighed with a distant glance beyond her as his mind wandered for a moment. "As soon as I get back we'll talk to Angela about this little idea. See what she has to say. But at the first sign of any emerging misconduct we have our orders to stand by." He directed a commanding finger at her with an expression of deadly seriousness on his face.

"Agreed," she nodded wholeheartedly. Totally agreed. But something in his words caught her attention. "When you come back? Where are you going?"

"Home. I've got to spend a little time with my daughter before she gets too old for one of her bears from around the world." Claire suddenly remembered having received a teddy bear from New York before, but later in time… Weird.

"René will stick around in case you run into any trouble or need help." Noah got up and made his way to leave. "I'll be back next week. Until then I want you to stay careful and focused," he jabbed his finger at the air in her direction to make his point clear again. "And if he so much as sneezes funny, do not hesitate to use your gun."

"Don't worry. If I even think Sylar is starting to come out it won't be a problem."

"Right," he grunted in an almost condescending manner before opening the door to exit. "And Claire… No more kissing. Or anything else for that matter." A bright crimson flush of embarrassment heated the surface of her face.

On their way back to the Primatech van, Bennet turned to the Haitian in a moment of wary hesitation. "You don't think she's getting attached?" The dark man simply shared a look with his partner while maintaining his characteristic silence. "Right," he grunted again, having interpreted some kind of answer from their exchange. "Stay close. Shadow her any time she's around him just to make sure."

Later that day after seeing her father off at the airport, Claire had joined René in the back of the van for some more surveillance duty. She found herself mildly curious as to what their target had been up to in her absence. Studying the monitor that displayed the live feed source stashed within Gray and Sons however quickly became a tired repeat of the worst television show imaginable. Gabriel tinkered for a while, and then he would clean something. A customer would come in and divert his attention for a few moments, and then he would stare off into space, or look longingly at something on the counter that was in the vicinity of the phone before going back to work.

Perhaps recognizing the fatigued look on her face from having worked with her father for so long, the Haitian retrieved a coffee for her without having been asked. Claire thanked him and took to glancing over the days' recordings while she sipped the steamy beverage. Running the tapes through fast-forward she observed much more of the same routine. Working, cleaning, anxious pacing… jumping at the phone like some kind of Pavlovian experiment the second it rang.

"Huh, I wonder who he's so excited about calling." The Haitian gave her a rather pointed look, communicating in his own way that the answer should have been obvious to her. "I guess you're right," she sighed. Without another word Claire slipped out of the van and headed down the block towards the shop.

Prior to entering she found herself pausing much as she had the day of her first encounter with the man known solely as Gabriel Gray. A frosty breeze nipped at her nose and nervous butterflies tormented her stomach while her hand hovered over the handle, reluctant to open the door. He wasn't just her enemy anymore. Not just the man whose life she had taken up the task of ending. He was her responsibility.

Hopefully this ends better than the gold fish thing. They never should have trusted me with remembering to feed a pet.

Claire stepped inside, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the relevant darkness of the store. When Gabriel didn't spring out from the shadows to greet her, she figured that he must not have heard her come in since the removal of the bell that had formerly announced company. She tiptoed to the back where she found him hunched over his work table so thoroughly engrossed in his task that he had failed to notice her presence. She feigned a cough that sounded irrationally loud when it clashed against the rhythmic ticks and tocks.

Gabriel nearly had to be pried from the ceiling and reinserted into his own skin for how she had startled him. Miniscule watch parts scattered over the surface of the table along with whatever metallic tool he had been holding at the time eliciting a few foul words from under his breath.

"Claire?" he asked having finally turned to discern the identity of his intruder. She couldn't respond at first, being distracted by the confusing and costly looking apparatus he was wearing on his head. His eyes were obscured by a set of multiple lenses arranged to rotate around various magnifications, and with his mouth hanging open in surprise only one thought was allowed to roam free in her mind.

"You look ridiculous," she giggled hysterically. Gabriel quickly divested himself of the device while mumbling something about only needing it for the finer time pieces.

"I was wondering if I would see you again." After the other night with the whole coercing you into reliving your life's worst moments and then practically throwing myself at you thing. The depths of the brown pools that had spent years terrorizing her began to more closely resemble those of a lost puppy.

"Sorry. I kind of got caught up in my work."

He nodded understandingly with traces of a sweet smile lifting his mouth. Known her for a week now and she hasn't run away screaming. My longest lasting relationship yet. Claire came to kneel by his side to assist in the recovery of all the pieces that had gone awry when she spooked him. "I'm glad you decided to come back," he spoke earnestly while taking a delicate spring from her, his hand lingering with hers for a moment.

"So, tell me about watches."

"Time pieces," he automatically corrected before being taken by surprise that she would show any real interest in his work.

"Time pieces," she repeated with a half-smile. Gabriel resumed his seat at the table and began to explain some of the more basic mechanical details of the time keeping device. He showed her how there were individual layers of wheels and cogs overlapping one another for the orderly function of certain aspects such as the date display and how they all came together to work as a solitary unit. Glancing up occasionally to check that she was following what he was telling her, Gabriel's interest was further peaked in the girl when she appeared to understand. He was quite delighted to discover that she was no ordinary simpleton as many of the people around him were.

"A lot of people underestimate how intricate something like a wrist watch can be. They take for granted the amount of effort and skill that's needed to create a perfect series of synchronizations. It's art," he added with a sigh of contentment. "Here," he said, offering his seat for her to take. "You try."

Claire sat down as directed and reached for the open back of the piece closest to her. "Oh, maybe not that one," he interrupted. "That one is very, very expensive. Um, try this one." She took the device into her hands and turned it about under the light of the lamp to study the internal metal configurations. Without even searching for his approval Claire fiddled with the selection of specialty screwdrivers until she located the one that she believed would be a fit, and then proceeded to tighten up a loose section. They were both elated when her findings proved to be correct.

"That's amazing," he beamed. "I can't believe you figured it out that fast."

"What can I say? I'm smarter than the average blonde," she joked.

"Yes you are." His voice was filled with blatant pride. Beautiful and intelligent? Maybe this one is a keeper.

Their grins slowly faded away. With Claire sitting on the low stool and Gabriel on his knees beside her their height differences were compensated enough to bring one another into a level line of sight. Timidly and painfully slowly he leaned in as if to bestow a kiss on her, carefully measuring her reactions the entire way. Just an inch shy of completing the motion however he stopped.

"Claire," he shifted uncomfortably, "can you promise me something?"

She was instantly cautious of the prospect, studying every detail of his seemingly sincere expression and apprehensive body language. "What is it?"

"I… like you… a lot. And I…" He cast his gaze downward in deep thought about the last time they had kissed and how bewildered she had been by the experience, flitting away as quickly as possible afterward.

"Gabriel?" she prodded.

"I don't want to do anything that you don't want to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Okay?"

"Just promise that you won't lie to me," he finished while giving her the most imploring look she had ever seen before. The thought of him begging her for honesty sent a small pang of guilt through her more virtuous half. "If I do something wrong please tell me so I can fix it."

Because that's what Gabriel does. He fixes things.

Realizing that time between them seemed to have stopped in anticipation of her answer and would not move forward again until she did, Claire clenched her eyes closed. She didn't want to be looking him in the face when she nodded her acquiescence, creating another lie in the act. Gabriel was quirking his head at her with furrowed brows when she opened her eyes to see him. He started to say something else but thought better of it and chose instead to lean forward just a touch more so that their lips ghosted over one another without making solid contact. The choice to accept or refuse the motion was hers alone to make.

Despite what may have been better judgment and the certainty of the Haitian's reprisal in her father's absence, Claire reveled for a moment in the intimacy of the non-kiss. The mission. The mission. The mission. She mentally recited her mantra, determining her shady objectives to be a reasonable excuse for what she was about to do. Saving her ponderings about the paradoxical tendencies residing within both of them, Claire made her choice and completed what Gabriel had started. She pressed their lips together and stole a sweet kiss.

To be continued...