You and Me

Summer 2012:

Claire and Peter walked in silence. Lost in their thoughts as they strolled leisurely through the local park. Claire was enjoying the sunshine as she pushing Sam along the shingle path.

"I think it's nice," she said quietly, "that our relationship grew stronger while I was in California."

"Do you think things will stay the same this time?"

"C'mon, Pete. This is my future we're taking about here. My Career."

He sighed deeply. "I know I just thought that, maybe, you'd get a job here in New York."

"Maybe I will someday."

They continued in silence. Together, they reached a set of swings. Peter knelt down and unbuckled Sam from the pushchair. Claire watched as the dark haired two year old grabbed her Uncle around the neck. "He's so good with her," she mused.

He stood up and swung the small girl high into the air. She giggled as he set her down on the swing. "Hang on," he instructed as he curled her tiny fingers around the cool metal supports. He arched upwards and stood back from her. Inch by inch the swing slowly gained momentum. Sam laughed as she soared through the air.

Claire looked around to see if anyone was watching. "Pete, you should at least pretend you're pushing her."

Peter gave her a look of contempt, but said nothing. He had been moody since earlier that morning. Now, his frustration was evident. He begrudgingly relented to her request and made appear that he was physically pushing his niece on the swing. Claire repeatedly tried to get him to talk, but he was avoiding any real conversation. By the time they walked home a deep silence had descended upon them. Finally, Claire could stand it no longer.

"Pete? Are you okay?"

"Sure," he replied gruffly. "Never better."

Claire threw her hands up into the air. "You're leaving tomorrow. You might not see me again before I go to Paris. Doesn't that bother you a little?"

"Why? Does it bother you?" he shot back.

"We're not talking about me right now."

"It's fine." He turned and started walking up the stairs.

"Pete. This is silly. I don't want to spend the rest of my Summer at odds with you," she called after him.

"I said, it's fine . . . Okay?" He disappeared onto the second floor leaving Claire alone and wondering.

"Peter?"

"Huh?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Mohinder Suresh waved a hand in front of his friend's face.

"Sure." Peter nodded. "Of course."

"I have been your friend for many years, Peter Petrelli, and I can tell when you are lying. This is most certainly one of those times."

"It's nothing . . . really."

"Peter, you've been distracted since we got here. Just last night you almost let a shape shifter get the better of you."

Peter was silent for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts. "It's . . . it's Claire."

Mohinder sat down next to him. "What about Claire?"

"She's moving to Paris."

"Oh okay, and you don't want her to go?"

"I . . . it's just . . . it's complicated."

"Matters of the Heart always are." Mohinder gave an understanding nod.

"Wait-I never said-"

"It's okay, Peter." Mohinder looked him straight in the eye. "I won't judge you. You've been through a lot together." He lowered his voice, "In some Southern Indian communities marriage is common between cousins, even allowed between say . . . an Uncle and a Niece."

Peter looked despondent and shook his head. "It's not like anything ever could or would happen, between us I mean, but I can't bear to be without her again."

"Then you should at least tell her."

"I've tried. Oh, how I've tried, Mohinder."

"Then try again, before it's too late. When does she leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! Peter! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I don't know what to say anymore." Peter's eyes filled with sadness.

Mohinder thought for a moment. "Somethings are better left unsaid. Don't tell her . . . show her."

Peter: I rushed back to New York to surprise Claire and discovered that Mohinder was right. Some things are better left unsaid.

"Come in," Claire replied to the knock on her door. She was startled when it opened to reveal a wide eyed Peter.

"Pete, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Chicago." A bemused expression spread across her pretty face.

"I needed to see you, before you go."

"Well, here I am. Packing." The room was chaotic. Suitcases, boxes and clothes were strewn about the room.

"Never mind that now."

"Come with me." He held out his hand.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "What about my packing? . . . Where are we going? Do I need to change first?"

"I'll help you later. Can't say and you've got ten minutes," he was breathless.

"Oh and Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Dress nice," he added.

She met him outside the mansion eleven minutes later. She was wearing a strapless blue-green dress that stopped just above the knee. Her golden hair was swept up onto her head. He gave her one of his spectacular lop-sided grins when she approached him. Her heart melted.

"What is going on with you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He stepped forward, gently scooped her up into his arms and propelled both of them into the night sky.

For the next few hours they wined, dined and danced. Peter had arranged for a table at Claire's favourite restaurant. He charmed her with anecdotes of his life as a 'saviour to heroes'. She stared in awe at the man she knew as her best friend. He was polite, gracious and had a certain magnetism in his aura. Even the waitresses noticed him, but he only had eyes for Claire. After dinner, they visited a few clubs and pounded the dance floor. When Claire got sore feet, he flew them up to the Empire State Building. There, they sat and admired the spectacular view of the magnificent city of New York. Finally, both had to admit it was time to go home. Claire had an early flight.

Peter landed gently on the roof of the mansion. Claire resting peacefully in his arms.

"Dance with me," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, Pete. I would, but my feet . . ."

"Trust me."

He slowly started releasing her from his arms. Just when she thought her feet would touch the ground they stopped. It was like walking on a cushion of air.

"There's no music."

"Listen"

She heard it. Faint at first, then louder. The memorable tune of 'Don't Dream it's Over' floated towards them. She smiled at the memory. He twirled her away and then pulled her close to him. Butterflies burst through her abdomen as he held her gaze for a lifetime. Together they danced, in perfect form, across the roof. A perfect fit. The minutes seemed to last for hours until he spun her away and pulled her back. She arched her back as he lowered her toward the ground. Their eyes mingled, green and brown, locked together in the moment.

"Just when I think I know you . . . " Claire grinned as he pulled her up. "You never cease to amaze me, Peter. Thank you. Thank you so much, for tonight, for being here . . . It was just magical."

"It was nothing," he said proudly, letting her go. "I'm just happy to have given you a night to remember."

He let his eyes drift upwards as the conversation died.

"Pete."

"Yup." He was still looking up into the night sky.

She cleared her throat before she continued. "I kind of . . . Can't help, but get the feeling . . . That this is some kind of a date." She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth.

"Date?" He squeaked the words, laughing to cover his true feelings. "Claire, I'm your Uncle."

Claire lowered her eyes. A small blush appearing on her cheeks.

He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "Claire, you're my best friend and you're leaving. I only just got you back and . . . Well, I thought it would be nice for us to have a night out together. So, lets save the emotional scenes for the airport tomorrow. Okay?"

She caught a small flash of remorse in his eyes, but it was gone in a instant. "Okay," she was a little relieved he had covered the brewing tension between them.

"I'm sorry if I gave you weird vibs or something."

"No, its just . . ." she frowned and shook her head. "Never mind."

He opened his arms. "Come here."

She moved closer and relaxed into his chest.

"Oh, I'm gonna miss you," he murmured softly, gently rubbing the small of her back.

She pulled away. "Now, that exactly what I'm talking about, Pete."

"What?"

"This! Us! Don't you think its a bit weird?"

"How so?"

"You're my Uncle. I'm your Niece. Is it not strange to you that we're so close?"

"Don't push it, Claire." He frowned and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. "Maybe a little . . . I don't know."

An awkward silence bore down upon them.

"So what? So what if it is strange or unusual or whatever the hell you want to call it. But, it's us, Claire. You and Me. Our relationship was born out of the kind of circumstances normal people don't have to deal with. Now, you're leaving tomorrow and its tearing me up inside and I . . ." He delivered the speech with such passion it left Claire speechless.

She stared at him. He was the man she had loved for so long. The man who had saved her life all those years ago and many times since. A surge of emotion rushed through her body. She suddenly felt no inhibition. She put her arms around him and stared him deep in the eyes. He moved his face close to hers, gently running his lips across her forehead.

"I hate this part." There was desolation in his voice.

"What?" she questioned.

"I hate this part," he repeated. "Saying Goodbye."

"I'm sorry. I know its hard. I feel this gravitational pull to you and yet my life is always taking me in another direction."

"I guess we're just destined to have these fleeting moments together.

She stepped back. "Let's not do it."

"Do what?" He was clearly confused.

"Say goodbye," she explained. "Let's not do it."

"Claire, you're leaving for Paris in six hours. How exactly do you plan to avoid another goodbye here?"

"If we don't say it, then maybe its not real."

Peter exhaled showly. "But, if there was something more I could say would you-"

"No!" She stopped him abruptly. "Don't say anything Peter Petrelli. Not a word, not even a whisper. It always makes things complicated." She stepped into his arms for what would be the last time in months. "Just be with me. Here and Now. You and Me. No Ending. Just . . . part of the story."

Claire closed her tired eyes and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She tried in vain to imagine she was somewhere else. She hated airports. Hated the fact that they signalled yet another change in her complicated life. She wondered if Peter would stick to their pact. No goodbyes.

"Claire . . . " Peter's voice startled her.

He was right in front of her.

She stood up. "Pete. What are you doing-"

"I had to see you." His face was flushed. His breathing rapid. "I couldn't let you go without . . ." He took her by the arm and led her away from the boarding area.

"What's going on? How did you even get here?" she asked.

"What I came here to say is, I can't let you leave without a goodbye; a proper goodbye." His eyes were round, his voice husky.

Without missing a beat, he lent his face down and let his lips find hers. It was a kiss that took her breath away. It was everything she had imagined and more. Delightful. Passionate. Sinful. Her mind was flooded with the pure ecstasy of his touch. She responded by pushing herself into him and stretching her arms around his neck. His hands roamed her body as the kiss deepened. Breathless, Peter suddenly pulled away.

"Goodbye, Claire," his voice was only a whisper, but the words rang out inside her head.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss." A voice through the haze. A hand on her arm.

Claire's eyes flew open and discovered she was still sitting, in the airline lounge, waiting to board her flight.

"Your flight's boarding," The stewardess politely reminded her.

"Th-Thank you," she stammered. "A dream? No dream is that . . . vivid. Is it?" A hand flew up to her face. She could still feel the warmth of his lips. "Goodbye, Peter."

Peter: Twenty-two years old, my niece and I had done everything I could to show her I loved her. I had no way of knowing if it would be enough keep to me in her heart. I could only wait and hope.

A/N: A kiss, but not a kiss? Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. Pip :)