Volume Two: I Can't Catch You

Claire: Prom night was memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. It was a catalyst for the emotional trials we were bound to face sooner or later.

Claire inserted two small tear drop shaped silver earrings into her earlobes. She winced slightly at the pain, but it was gone quickly. Then, she had one last check in the mirror before heading downstairs.

"Becca . . . are you ready."

"Yep," Becca stepped into the room. "Claire you look amazing. Liam's not going to know what hit him."

Claire smiled sheepishly and guiltily realised she cared more about what Peter would think when he saw her. "So do you . . . now let's go."

Arm in arm Claire and Becca proceeded downstairs. Claire giggled nervously when Becca joked that they had finally reached their first slow motion walk down stairs.

Heidi was busy adjusting Peter's tie when the girls made their entrance. When Peter caught sight of Claire over Heidi's shoulder his heart skipped a beat. She wore an elegant floor length blue dress with a thigh high side split. The diamonds at her throat stood out against the simple halter neck cut of the dress.

Claire smiled when his eyes met hers. Heidi turned and said something, but all Claire could focus on was Peter. His hair was newly trimmed and he looked older than his 25 years. She locked her eyes on him and they seemed frozen by the spell of one another. However, as quickly as they both surrendered to it, the enchantment was broken in an instant. But, the moment they shared did not go unnoticed.

"Wow. Peter, I'm impressed. You scrub up nicely." Becca's voice broke through the confusion.

Peter beamed back at her. "Becca, you're beautiful." He kissed her lightly on the cheek before turning to Claire. "So are you . . . Tex." He said softly, trying not to meet his niece's gaze as he leaning to kiss her cheek as well.

His touch had always been comforting to her, but now it was much more than that. The feeling of his lips against her soft skin was electrifying; Claire felt alive whenever he was near. Peter pulled away and quickly put some distance between them.

Heidi held up a camera. "Photo time."

The trio collectively groaned, but did as they were asked and posed together and individually for the standard formal night pictures. Watching in the background, Nathan beamed proudly. Soon, Peter had a stunning woman on each arm and they made their way outside to the waiting limo.

"Have a good time," Heidi wished them well.

"Oh and Pete . . ." Nathan called after them.

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

A few hours later Peter and Claire seemed to have gotten over their initial uneasiness and were tearing up the dance floor.

"I can't believe you cut your hair," Claire murmured for the third time that evening.

"It was time."

"I know, but you look so . . . different."

"You are easily the best dancer here," Peter ignored her and instead complimented her as he twirled her around.

"You're not so bad yourself," Claire stated, as she felt eyes on her. "We're lucky the whole ballroom thing is back in . . . I think we're getting a few stares of envy."

"No, Claire. Those are the jealous eyes of all the boys on me because I'm dancing with the most beautiful girl here."

Claire opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when a tall young man asked Peter if he could cut in and dance with Claire. Peter was a natural gentleman and kindly obliged. Claire stepped forward and was whirled away, but not before she caught the sight of a cheeky wink from Peter.

"Tom. This is a surprise," Claire greeted the young man in front of her. Tom was Liam's best friend.

"You look truly amazing tonight, Claire. Liam's a fool." Tom smiled warmly.

"He's not the only one who's a fool." Claire thought to herself.

Peter watched enviously as Claire and Tom circled the dance floor again. He sighed inwardly. "This is what it's always going to be like. Her there, you here, always the one looking in on her life."

He saw Tom lean and whisper something in her ear. Claire smiled and then laughed at the comment. Peter made a fist out of his hand, the anger rising in his blood.

"Hi."

Peter suddenly realised there was a woman standing beside him. The rage dissipated.

"Hi." He returned her greeting.

"Not you first prom." She was a pretty brunette woman of about thirty.

"How'd you guess?" Peter's face relaxed into a smile.

"Just a hunch. You work here?"

"No. My brother volunteered me to help out . . . for my niece." He motioned towards Claire.

She followed his gaze before turning back to him and extending her hand. "Mariette Pascalle. French Teacher."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Peter Petrelli. Uncle."

"A little young to be her Uncle aren't you?"

"It's a long story." He sighed, but was pleased she didn't pick up on the Petrelli in his name.

"Do you dance, Uncle Peter?"

Peter enjoyed Mariette's company for the next few hours. She proved to be a match for him on the dance floor and for a time she was able to keep his mind off Claire. However, close to 11pm Mariette was called away to assist with a prom emergency, and Claire crept back into his thoughts.

He couldn't really understand why, but something inside was driving him to ask Claire for another dance. He searched the room for her. Relief coursed through his body when he saw her. She was alone. He strolled over, catching his breath as her beauty captivated him again.

"Peter, I've barely seen you all night. How are you?"

"Fine," He lied, forcing a smile on his face.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked.

Peter was silent as he watched the mass of couples on the dance floor. Suddenly, a new song came on. Claire felt her heart jump as the lilting acoustic tones filled her ears.

"Do you want to dance?" she surprised him with an invite.

"Sure." This time his smile was real. He took her by the hand and led her through the throng of people. She moved to put her arms around his neck, but conscious of where they were he moved them to his shoulders. Claire was a little hurt, but she hid her feelings behind a smile.

"C'mon, Claire." Tom appeared from nowhere. "Let's get some photos."

Claire was about to answer, when Tom pulled her by the waist. She stumbled a few steps backwards. Her eyes pleading for Peter to do something, but he missed her subtle cue.

"You don't mind do you, Peter?" Tom didn't wait for an answer.

"I'm sorry." Claire mouthed her apology to Peter, but it was lost in the crowd.

Peter stood in the middle of the dance floor, feeling like a complete idiot, and watching as Claire disappear into the distance.

Claire had tried unsuccessfully to get rid of Tom since her first dance with him, but he couldn't take the hint. She finally managed to ditch him at the after party. "He was nice," she mused. "But not for me." It was now little after one thirty in the morning.

She spent a few minutes searching for Peter before she finally found him. Her heart began pounding again when she spotted him talking to Becca through a downstairs window. She turned away for a moment as she headed towards the door. When she caught sight of them again, they were locked in a passionate embrace. Claire's mouth dropped open slightly and she had to blink several times, disbelieving of the sight in front of her. "My Uncle and my best friend, together. My Uncle. Peter."

Claire stood, frozen, watching them for a few seconds before she ran. Breathlessly, she found a small empty room and locked herself inside. Her mind raced with the image of Peter and Becca kissing and something inside her broke. She cursed herself for being a stupid fool and repeatedly tried to convince herself there was no reason to be upset. "It was just a kiss. One kiss. It didn't mean anything . . . did it?" Before she knew what was happening, large wet tears started rolling down her face. "Oh God." Somewhere in the past few hours the line had blurred and her naïve little crush had become much more. Painful sobs racked her body as she realised Becca had the only thing she ever wanted and it was the one thing she could never have.

Peter let his lips caress hers. Suddenly he flicked his eyes open and the spell was broken. He pulled away from the pretty blonde in front of him and caught at the sight of her pretty blue eyes. For a split second he wished they were greener, but then a twinge of guilt caught hold of him.

Peter cleared his throat. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

Becca smiled sadly. "Claire . . ."

Peter nodded. "That was, ah . . . nice."

"But not what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"That was a great kiss . . . um . . . so . . . You and Claire?"

"What about Claire?" Peter swallowed nervously.

"I've just been getting this vibe from you two all night . . . there's something about the way you look at her, like she's the only woman in the room and-" She stopped as she noticed the pleading look in Peter's eyes.

"She's my niece," Peter said firmly and a clumsy silence passed between them.

Becca caught the seriousness in his voice and decided to let it go. "I'm sorry," she bit her lower lip. "That was a pretty inappropriate."

"It's okay."

She widened her eyes in an exaggerated gesture and joked. "Must have that last beer . . . I'm gonna head back inside now." She placed her hand lightly on his arm and looked him in the eye. "You're a good guy, Peter."

Peter watched her scurry away. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before staring aimlessly at the ground.

Peter spent twenty minutes feeling sorry for himself, before he decided to find Claire. He spent another ten minutes searching the house, before trying outside. He heard giggling as he approached the poolside courtyard. As he got closer, he realised he had stumbled upon a young couple. He was about to give them their privacy when he realised the giggling girl was Claire. They were lying on the concrete tiles, the boy almost on top of her, his hand reaching inside the split of her dress. The sight was too much for him.

"Claire . . . what are you doing?" He bellowed.

The boy rolled over and stood up.

"Peter . . . Oh Shit." Claire rearranged herself. "We're just having some fun."

"Who are you? Her boyfriend?" The spotty faced boy asked.

Peter gritted his teeth. "Actually, I'm her uncle, and if you don't leave right now I'm gonna show you exactly what I do to guys that fool around with my underage niece."

The boy left in a hurry without as much as a second look.

Claire put a hand up to her forehead. "I don't believe this."

"Just having some fun? Claire what is wrong with you? Do you even know him? What about Tom?"

"Tom? I don't even like Tom . . . God, you sound you're my Dad or something . . . I thought you'd be cool," she slurred her words as she spoke.

"You're drunk."

"So what if I am? It's Prom Night."

"You don't want to do this, trust me. Not here, not now . . . and not with him."

"Oh really . . . How do you know what I want?"

"I just know."

Claire stepped closer to him. "So, maybe I just need someone a little more mature then," she said huskily.

"Grow up, Claire," Peter angrily rebuffed her.

"Fuck you. Peter." Claire turned sharply, but Peter caught her by the wrist and pulled her back. "Let go of me!"

He pulled her closer to him again. "No."

"Let go of me," She protested again.

"I'm taking you home."

She glared at him angrily, still struggling against the hold on her.

"What is your problem? You've been acting like an ungrateful immature spoiled brat all night. I thought we were friends."

"Friends? I thought real friends don't kiss their friends' friends," Claire slurred again as she revealed she had seen the kiss.

"Oh, so that's what this is about?"

"How could you? She's my best friend."

"Me? Maybe it's time you realised I have my own life Claire. Not everything I do involves you."

"Then how come you expect to be able to dictate my every move."

"I do not, Claire. If anything I'm just looking out for you because it's obvious to me that you're just an immature little girl."

"I wish I'd never met you," she spat back at him. The intensity in her eyes broke into his soul and he slowly released her. The sting of her words hit him hard.

"Done," Peter sneered before turning swiftly on his heels and leaving an open mouthed Claire alone under the stars.

Claire watched him leave as an excruciating anger flowing through her body. She hurried away from the spot where they had argued. She eventually came to a stop near the pool and realised the magnitude of what had just happened. She clutched her arms around her as sorrowful tears flowed down her cheeks. She gasped for air and collapsed onto a nearby chaise long. She sat there for a few moments rocking back and forth, sobbing. Eventually, she took a deep breath and stood up. She walked slowly along the pool edge trying to catch her breath as the tears kept flowing. "Oh God . . . Damn it," she muttered as the heel of her right shoe caught between two tiles. It happened in an instant. She struggled to free herself and lost her balance. Inebriated, Claire was unable to stop her fall. She hit her head on the side of the pool and slipped silently into the depths.

"Peter . . . Help me . . ." Her last thoughts were of him as she bravely fought against the blackness.