12

Wrong Number

March 6, 2006 - 9 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered

Gabriel rolled over, patting the space beside himself and groaned at the coolness of the cushion there. He cracked open his drowsy eyes and confirmed his suspicions. She was gone already. Again. Claire had made a routine out of departing for work in the early hours of the morning before he woke. Not even the weekend had been an exception. He rubbed the fuzz out of his vision and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, taking his time to stretch and work the kinks out of his back with a worrisome succession of popping sounds. Sleeping on the sofa, as wonderful as it had been to have Claire by his side, was incredibly uncomfortable on an aging spine.

He poked his head into the kitchen and then into the bedroom to make absolutely sure that she had already left before shedding yesterday's clothing. He grabbed himself a towel from the linen closet and stubbed a toe on the leg of an end table she had moved the day before. I really need to clean this place up before Mom comes for the laundry later, he mused to himself in equal parts of amusement and irritation as he tripped over a misplaced pair of Claire's shoes on his way to the partially overflowing hamper. Once finished with his morning shower, Gabriel was forced to actively search for his razor amongst the various products that she had somehow managed to stockpile in the medicine cabinet.

Mousse, gel, pomade, more gel, hair spray, another brand of styling gel. Just how much crap does she really need for her hair? Eye liner, mascara, concealer. God, how much makeup does she wear? Disposable razors… Torture device? he wondered, fiddling with an eyelash curler. Tweezers. The tweezers might be disappearing today. What the? He pulled out an unfamiliar looking object like a small tube in a white plastic wrapper. Naturally curious about things that he had never seen before, especially when in reference to Claire, he turned the device over in his fingers for study. Unfortunately the dawning of understanding that came out of the experience was most unexpected and more than a little unpleasant. "Oh jeez!" he cried out, dropping the feminine hygiene product like it had the power to physically burn him.

Wax. Huh. I wonder what she's using this for? He immediately slapped himself to shake away the dirty thought that crossed his mind of its own accord. Heat in warm water? A few minutes later Gabriel was giggling quietly at the image of himself with the little scrap of cloth stuck between his eyebrows. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the edge of the wax strip and yanked. Somewhere down the hall an elderly neighbor had to cover her ears for protection from the string of unabashed profanities.

"Gabriel?"

Crap.

"Gabriel, dear, are you alright?"

"Yes, Mom. I'm fine. I, uh… I just got out of the shower, and I need a minute to get dressed before you take the laundry please." Crap. Crap. Double crap.

While Virginia busied herself with flitting around the kitchen, Gabriel hurriedly stuffed the hair dryer, curling iron, and accessories back into the cabinet anywhere they would fit. Dashing across to his bedroom, he kicked Claire's shoes through the door so that he didn't have to drop the towel around his waist. He zipped around the room as quickly as possible to retrieve Claire's discarded clothing. Blouses haphazardly slung over his bed, jeans crumpled on the floor, and a skirt that was flung carelessly onto a lampshade were all stuffed back into her duffel bag that she had brought them in.

Cracking open his closet with a heavy sigh of relief, he thumbed through his own set of shirts and trousers only to discover the bright yellow sundress she had worn for their date a few nights before. He pulled on his pants and returned the dress to Claire's bag. Turning over the hamper, he tossed contents about for her socks and any other trace that she might have left behind. A crippling blush crept over his cheeks and down his neck when he came across some rather lacy undergarments. He hesitated to pick them up, dancing nervously around the subject before logically deciding that the situation would only become worse if Virginia were to see them. Hastily tossing the underwear into her bag, Gabriel found a particularly scandalous pair of underwear that appeared to be nothing more than nearly transparent red lace in the form of extremely short shorts.

I wonder when she wears these… Slapping himself again for his racy imagination, he began to throw them away with the others before pausing to feel the soft fabric between his fingers. He pulled a face for a moment and stuffed the panties into the very bottom drawer of his nightstand. I'm going to hell for this.

The bedroom started to slowly creak open in warning of his mother's approach. "Gabriel?" Virginia popped her head inside just as he finished kicking Claire's duffel beneath his bed and out of view. "Have you been falling asleep reading again? You know that's terrible for your back to sleep on the couch that way."

"Yes, Mother. I'm very well aware of this."

Virginia squinted her eyes at him, cocking her head to the side with a frown. "Did you do something to your eyebrows dear? They look strange."

I'll worry about being a deviant later.

Gabriel was nearly ready to close up his shop for the day when the gleam of blonde hair shining in the sunlight caught his attention at the window. Claire strolled by spreading a smile on his face that stretched from ear to ear. It never ceased to amaze him that she kept returning day after day. Wandering inside the store, she mindlessly took her usual lounging position against the counter, waiting for him to finish his business while thoroughly engrossed in what appeared to be a Rubik's cube.

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, leaning over to give her a peck on the temple to which she responded with a half-hearted grunt. "Tough day at the office?" She mumbled an incoherent reply. "I got something for you today that will cheer you up. Maybe… I hope." Claire growled in frustration, continuing to aimlessly click away pieces of the checkered cube in no kind of reasonable pattern that he could discern.

"My dad told me he's leaving town tomorrow to go back home. He said the Company told him I was supposed to handle operations from now on," she finally managed to grit out.

"Oh," he mouthed deflatedly, beginning to understand her dejected attitude. "I, uh. I was kind of… I sort of hoped that I would get to meet him." Claire glanced back at him questioningly. "Well, I mean since you met my mother and all… I guess I figured that… You know, never mind. It's not important."

"You want to meet Noah?"

"…Does he not… know about me? I mean, uh, if you didn't tell him about me… I, um. I understand." She's embarrassed by me. "It's really not important at all." I'm sure I wouldn't be in a big rush to admit dating me either.

He must have failed to hide the sense of shame in his eyes because her demeanor quickly relaxed into a much more sympathetic one. "No! No it's not like that at all. Noah… Noah most definitely knows all about you." Having finally succeeded in obtaining her attention as well as a comfortable amount of reassurance, Gabriel leaned in to steal a kiss when something else captured her line of sight. "Oh shit." He didn't even have time to blink before she dove over the side of the counter. Just as he was about to ask her what she thought she was doing, a customer entered the shop. Claire gave him a pleading look with her finger pressed against her lips to beg for his silence.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, he observed the potential client, a man appearing to be roughly his own age but several inches shorter in stature with long dark hair that hung down into his eyes in a way that he judged to be rather juvenile in nature. "Hello. How can I help you today?"

"Hey," the other man greeted with a crooked smile as he removed his sunglasses. "My dad sent me to get his old pocket watch fixed." He strolled casually over to the counter and pulled the item in question from the satchel draped over his shoulder, handing it over for Gabriel to look at. "He was pretty insistent that I bring it to you. He seems to think that you're the best with these things."

Turning the gold plated time piece over in his hands, he flipped it open to look at the ornate set of dials within. "You must have come quite a way to get here."

"Manhattan. How'd you guess?"

"This isn't the kind of item I get to see everyday." It's probably worth more money than I've made in the last decade. Wow, even the insides are real gold.

"So… Think you can fix it for us?"

"Yeah I can, but I don't know that I can find exactly matching parts to work with. To be honest I've never even seen parts made out of gold like this before."

"Oh. Well, um, he didn't really say anything about that. He just said that it was important to him. Hang on, I'll call him real quick." A shiny silver cell phone came from the side satchel for use. "Hey, Dad? Yeah I'm here now. Gray and Sons, right? Okay yeah. Yes he can fix it, but he doesn't know that he can find parts for it… Really? Okay. Alright, I'll be by in about an hour or so then." The phone snapped shut and was plunged back into its hiding place. "I guess that thing really must be sentimental or something. He says he'll pay whatever you want. He just wants it fixed."

For a moment Gabriel was afraid that Claire would have to pick up his jaw for him whenever it finished hitting the floor. "Um, uh, can I - can I get your name please? For the paperwork?"

"Sure. Peter Petrelli."

As soon as Peter had exited the store Gabriel slumped over the counter having completely forgotten about Claire until she popped up beside him. She mumbled something about the event being a "close one", gaining his immediate interest all over again.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about or do I even want to know?"

"You remember how I told you about having family here in New York?" He nodded, remembering the vague mention of relatives. "That was my uncle."

"Is there a particular reason why you're hiding from your uncle?"

"We're not exactly on speaking terms right now."

I knew there was a reason why I didn't like that guy.

"Anyways," she muttered, starting to click away at the Rubik's cube again, "We can probably meet up with my dad tomorrow before he leaves. If you still want to meet him?"

"Of course I do," he answered jovially. His day was getting brighter by the minute. "And I, uh. I still have that present for you too." She didn't even glance up from her toy, his words almost visibly flying in one ear and out the other. "Oh for -" Gabriel snatched the Rubik's cube from her hands, ignoring her protests. He spent about ten seconds analyzing the puzzle and exerted another fifteen in solving it, clicking the last matching row of colored squares into place for her astonished eyes to witness.

"I'm sorry," she apologized while making one of the faces that she knew he couldn't resist. "I've just been working on that thing all day. What did you want to say?"

"It's more like a question," he mumbled. The blush was returning to his cheeks with burning intensity. He couldn't believe how nervous he suddenly was. Gabriel fetched a small black box from his coat pocket, fumbling with it in anxious hands. "I - I, um. I was… I, uh." Claire reached out to still his fidgeting and took the box into her own hands. He couldn't read the expression on her face and it was only causing more distress. She doesn't look happy. But she doesn't look… When did I stop breathing? He forced himself to take a deep breath to clear the swimming sensation of lightheadedness. "It's just, uh…"

Claire cracked open the box to take a timid peek inside, a beaming smile emerging once she saw the contents. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" She held up the brand new, never before used key to demonstrate her query.

"Well, um. It's just, uh." His stuttered ramblings were silenced by the lips pressing against his. "I just thought that maybe if you ever wanted somewhere else to stay besides the hotel…" Not that you've been sleeping there at all this week. Another kiss. "Besides, you've already taken control of my bathroom." Kiss. "And my bedroom for that matter."

"Let's go home."

"I like the way that sounds."

Claire busied herself with putting away the fresh laundry that Virginia had done earlier that afternoon while Gabriel clattered around in the kitchen. Delicious dinner smells wafted through the apartment causing her stomach to groan irritably with ravenous hunger. It really had been a long day. Tracking Dr. Suresh was proving to be much more difficult than she had initially anticipated. The poor man was hopelessly absentminded and much less methodical in his workings than Mohinder had ever been. She had nearly lost him twice just that day because he seemed to have developed a terrible habit of backtracking. Whether that was his own way of getting around or an intentional bait for any Company agents that might be waiting for him, she couldn't be sure.

The trilling ring of Gabriel's phone interrupted her train of thought. Knowing that he was in the middle of fixing their dinner, Claire jaunted over to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. My name is Dr. Chandra Suresh and I'm looking for a Mr. Gabriel Gray. Is he available?"

Her stomach was no longer rumbling with hunger because it had frozen solid with fear. "I'm sorry. There's no one here by that name," she rushed out, slamming the phone down before she could be rebuked.

"Who was that?" Gabriel asked, peering around the corner.

"Nobody. Wrong number."

To be continued...