Un américain à Paris - An American in Paris

Fall 2012:

Claire: Paris was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. It's rich and colourful history was more than enough to keep one entertained. I adored my new position at the magazine, it was everything I dreamed it would be. Overall, I adjusted well and soon learned how to live like a true Parisian. However, as before, there was something missing. Eventually, I came to realise that Paris could also be a very lonely city.

Claire Petrelli adjusted her shoelaces and headed out the door. She took a brisk five minute walk to the nearest Metro station. From there she caught the next train heading towards the Trocadero. Excitement hovered in her veins as she anticipated the sights and sounds awaiting her at Paris' most famous monument. Light on her feet, camera in hand, she sprang from the cramped carriage as soon as the doors opened. Following the stream of tourists from the station she made her way along the footpath. Catching her breath, she stepped forward into the morning sunlight. There it was, Tour Eiffel, as it was known in French. Towering above Champ de Mars, it was a truly glorious sight. She could hardly believe Paris was going to be her home for the next year, even though she was seeing it with her own eyes. She snapped a few photos before exchanging cameras with a young Asian couple. Together they laughed as they posed; like old friends sharing a special moment that transcended the obvious language barrier and ethnic differences. "I can't wait to send this to Pete." She strolled leisurely down the magnificent steps towards the Eiffel Tower that stood proudly ahead. She was overwhelmed by the size of the structure as she walked under the base. She positioned herself in the grassy park grounds and took in the sights around her. Tourists and Parisians alike, were taking the time to relax in the unusually sunny morning. Claire lay flat on her back and closed her eyes. Thoughts of home floated through her mind. An empty pit grew in her stomach when she thought of Peter. His smile, his laugh and his touch. Her heart ached at the reminder of the distance between them. "He will always be there for you. He told you so," she told herself. "But, knowing that and experiencing it are two very different things. Oh, I hope I did this right thing, Pete. Wait for me, I will be home soon."

It wasn't the first time Claire had had her life flash before her, and it was unlikely to be her last. However, this freeze in time could possibly have been avoided. If only she hadn't been thinking about him when she stepped out from the kerb and into the path of the oncoming motor scooter. She braced for the impact as the squeal of tyres filled her ears. Nothing. She opened her eyes. In front of her the irate man waved his arms around. "Okay. So, I might have been slightly at fault, but why are do scooter drivers think they own the road?" Inexplicably, she stared at him, noticing his handsome features and silky dark hair. His warm dark eyes. Then, she did something complete unusual, she smiled. Not just any smile. One of those silly goofy smiles she normally reserved for Peter. Their eyes met and he suddenly stopped waving his arms around. He simply steered the bike around her and carried on. She let her eyes linger after him, noticing he too was turning his head for one last glance. Claire tried desperately to wipe the expression from her face.

"Weird. God, I miss you." She carried on walking.

"Claire!" A woman's voice greeted her as she walked into the Paris Life office.

"Bonjour, Jamie." Claire greeted the magazine's editor warmly. "Comment allez-vous?"

"Rushed off my feet as usual," she answered in English as she hurried away, her auburn hair bouncing as she strolled.

Claire smiled and walked up stairs. Her small corner desk was on the first floor. She settled herself into her desk chair and pushed her bag under the desk. Already getting into the office routine she set off in search of a coffee.

"Do you always play chicken with scooters or was this morning a one off for you?" A husky voice came from behind her.

She spun around. It was the dark haired man from the scooter. Helmet in one hand. Camera in the other. "Just my luck . . ." she growled at herself. "He is kind of cute though . . . Idiot."

She chose to ignore him. "I'm sorry," Claire offered a shy smile at the tall stranger, "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"I'm West," he held out his hand, "West Rosen, Paris Life photographer and you are?"

"Claire Petrelli." She took his hand.

"Petrelli? As in, New York Senator Petrelli?"

Claire inhaled sharply. "Yes."

West just nodded, a strange smirk on his face.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." He dropped his head down and started adjusting the lens on his camera.

Intrigued, she took a step closer. "Seriously. What?"

His brown eyes penetrated hers. "It's just . . . you don't seem like some New York rich kid, that's all."

His words caught her off guard and she was unsure how to reply. "Well, I'm-"

"No need to explain. I get it," he interrupted.

"Get what?" the irritation in her voice was rising.

"The reason you are here."

Claire folder her arms across her chest. "And what is that?"

"To prove something to Daddy."

"How dare you? You don't even know me."

"I know enough about the interns that come through here each year."

"If you're suggesting that I got here because of my family, you're wrong," she fumed.

West gave a half hearted shrug. "Maybe."

"I got this internship based on the merit of my work. Not some stupid connection to my biological father. For your information I was raised in Texas by my adoptive parents." She stormed off, but not before muttering a badly concealed "Jerk," under her breath.

West's eyes followed her as went.

"What did you say to her?" Jamie questioned as she appeared at his side.

"I don't know, but I like her." A sudden twinkle in his brown eyes.

Claire squinted as she tried to focus on the computer screen in front of her. Angrily, she tapped the back space button a couple of times. "Stupid French keyboard. I'll never get this stupid report done."

Suddenly, a sweet smelling pastry appeared in front of her face. She was about to smile when she realised who was on the other end of it.

"Peace offering?" West asked.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Why should I accept anything from you?"

"'Cos Jamie just gave us a new assignment."

"Us?" Claire swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to be doing was working with an arrogant jerk like West.

"Yep." West smiled as he watched her face fall. He picked up her cream coloured coat from the back of her chair.

"B-But why would Jamie put me on an assignment with you? I'm just an intern." She let him slip the coat around her shoulders.

"It's nothing big. Just heading down to the Latin Quarter to check out a new restaurant . . . plus I vouched for you."

"Why?"

"'Cos I like you, Claire." He gave her an annoying squeeze around the shoulders. "You're the first intern I've come across with half a brain."

"Gee, thanks." Claire gritted her teeth.

Claire was starting to regret her decision to take the internship at Paris Life. However, she consoled herself with the fact that West Rosen would probably not be the only person she disliked working with after choosing a career in journalism. He had been irritating her for days now.

"I'm not going anywhere on that!" Claire announced when she realised West was suggesting they take the scooter to their assignment.

"Why not?"

"After the way you drove that thing the other day. No way."

"The way I drove? After you stepped out in front of me, the way I drove saved your pretty little arse." He had a point there.

"Whatever." She climbed on the bike and put her arms around him. He repositioned them so she held him tighter.

"Wouldn't want you to fall off," he muttered.

Claire bit her lip as they pulled out into the traffic. She found her heart beating faster as she pressed herself into West's muscular back. Despite of herself, she enjoyed the ride there. It was truly a great way to get around. Surprisingly, she found that she was smiling by the time they arrived at the restaurant. West looked her up and down, but said nothing.

The next few hours rushed by as they interviewed the American owner and his beautiful french wife. Claire observed West and the woman making eyes at each other. The other man was oblivious as he enthused about his life and restaurant. Much to Claire's surprise, West was completely professional. He was a competent journalist and an even better photographer. He was even being nice to her.

"You were pretty good in there," she conceeded as they exited later that afternoon.

"I know." He grinned.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Can we go now?"

"Fine."

After a few minutes, Claire became aware they weren't heading in the direction of the office.

"Where are we going?" she yelled.

"Thought you might like to take a walk. Since, you seem to hate my scooter so much."

West parked the bike and helped Claire off. He took her by the hand and started leading her down the road. After a few minutes they passed through some large gates and into a large garden. The calming effect of the beautiful surroundings was instantaneous. Claire felt her breathing slow and she took in the sights around her. As the walked, Claire discovered the garden was filled with a multitude of bronze statues. There were statues of animals, famous people and figures from Greek mythology.

"Where are we?"

"Luco," West explained. "Jardin du Luxembourg."

"It's beautiful."

"I know." He removed the lens and started capturing the images around them.

"Why?"

"I like to come here and take photos. It's constantly changing. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. No moment is the same."

Claire laughed softly. "Look, the statue of Liberty." A sudden pang of home sickness filled her stomach.

West trailed behind her as she went to investigate the statue. He would pause every few metres when something new caught his eyes. After a few moments, he flicked the camera's attention to Claire.

"West," she rolled her eyes as she smiled. "Cut it out."

He ignored her.

"I mean it," she couldn't hide the joy in her voice.

West captured her mood proudly. They wandered the garden for another twenty minutes before reluctantly heading back to the office.

"Thank you," she murmured when the reached the office.

West gave her a smile and said nothing. It had been an eye opening afternoon.

"You know, Claire, you're the first Paris Life intern that I can have a real conversation with." West stated as they sat down to lunch a few weeks later.

"Ha! That's because you slept with all the female interns and then never called them. I probably wouldn't talk to you after that either. As for the guys, well, it's only natural they wouldn't want to be friends with you."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Claire smiled proudly. "Jaime warned me about you."

"Can I help it if I have a certain . . . magnetism?"

Claire burst into a fit of giggles.

"What?" He looked genuinely offended.

"Magnetism? This is Paris. You only need to show girls a camera and they'll follow you into bed."

"Hey," he frowned, "there's more to me than that."

"Like?" Claire gave him a questioning stare. "And don't say your good looks."

"There's my . . . and . . . I'm-"

"I'm waiting." Claire tapped her fingers on the table.

"So I'm good in bed . . . is there anything wrong with that?"

"I'll have to take your word for it on that one." She winked at him.

"Claire. Claire. Claire." He shook his head. "That's not the attitude."

"You and me? Are you serious?"

"Why not?"

"Well, for a start you're into girls with big boobs, short skirts and small brains. I'm . . ." she hesitated.

"You're what? Single?"

"I'm . . . I'm just not . . . looking . . . And I'm definitely not looking for what you're looking for."

"And what am I looking for?"

"You know."

He pressed her further. "And that would be?"

"A one night stand."

He laughed. "Who said anything about a one night stand, Claire?"

Claire blushed a little, even though she knew he was joking. She was about to answer when her cell phone rang. She extended her hand to answer it, but was beaten by West.

"Hello, Claire's phone," he cooed.

Claire shot him an unimpressed look.

"Senator Petrelli . . . " he paused. "This is West."

"Give it back," she hissed.

"Claire? Oh, she's fine. Just a little busy right now."

"That's it." She scrambled to her feet reaching out over the table. "Give it back." Effortlessly, he moved out of her reach.

"Of course. I'll give her the message . . . Nothing, why?" West grinned as he listened. "Sure, I'd love to."

Claire sat back down, folded her arms and glared at him.

"Okay, I will . . . Ha ha, you too. Goodbye." West hung up.

"What?"

"What a really nice guy."

"West! The message."

"I can't wait to meet him. Oh yeah . . . the message. Call your Dad."

Claire stared at him strangely for a few seconds. "What do you mean 'You can't wait to meet him'?"

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. He invited me dinner at your place . . . You never told me you were going home in a few weeks."

Claire's mouth dropped open. "He didn't . . . no." Her eye widened in horror. "And you agreed? Are you crazy? Wait don't answer that."

Claire: My friendship with West grew steadily over the final months of 2012. As long as he kept his ego in check, he was a genuinely nice person. However, one winter night would change our relationship forever.

It happened in a split second. One second she was casually walking down stairs and the next she was crumpled in a heap at the bottom. A sharp stab of pain shot through her lower leg as she struggled to get up. A small white bone protruded from the skin just above her ankle. She slumped back down and watched her thick red blood ooze from the fracture. She hurridly tried to push the fragment back into place, but it was stubborn. West flew around the corner alerted by the sound of her fall.

"Claire," he cried out, rushing towards her.

"I'm okay."

"Let me see." Concern filled his eyes.

"No."

He watched her grimace in pain. "Claire, don't be so stubborn."

Slowly, he withdrew her fingers from the wound.

"Claire, your ankle is broken . . . C'mon." He put a supportive arm around her shoulders and helped her to a nearby chair.

"I'm okay," she repeated.

He looked around the empty office for a few seconds. "Wait here, I'm calling you an ambulance." He moved away.

"No. West, wait. Please."

Sensing the urgency in his voice he paused, phone in hand.

Claire bent down and forcefully thrust her ankle back into place, grimacing as she did so. West stared at her dumbfounded. Slowly, he returned the phone to the cradle. Their eyes met and lingered.

West opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Shock imprinted on his handsome face.

Gingerly, she stood up. "I . . . I can explain." Carefully, she started walking towards him, a fearful look in her eyes. "You have to promise me . . . You can't tell anyone about this."

A surprising smile crept across his face. "Wow, this is . . ."

She cringed. "Don't say it."

"Great." His words confused her.

"What?" she asked, stunned by his reaction.

"You healed."

"Yeah." She furrowed her brow.

He held out his hand. "C'mon."

"But, where-"

"Trust me."

Claire took a deep breath and let him pull her through the office and out into the alleyway at the rear of the building.

"West, what are we doing out here?" she was becoming increasingly concerned at the obvious look of excitement in his eyes.

"I thought I was the only one," he explained. "You have no idea how incredible this is," he said breathlessly.

She shook her head. "Wait? What? I don't understand?"

Claire's eyes widened as he scooped her up into his arms and together they flew upwards into the night. The grand city of Paris sparkled below them, but in the darkness they only had eyes for each other.

"This isn't your first experience of human flight is it?" West eyed her up after they landed on her apartment roof.

Unable to hide her past, she shook her head lightly. "My Dad can-"

"The Senator?" he interrupted.

She nodded. "And Peter, my Uncle."

West ran a hand through his thick black hair. "This is amazing. Others like me . . . Are there more people out there like you?"

"Yes."

He took a few deep breaths. "I don't know what to say . . . How?"

Claire began to tell him the story of how she discovered her powers when she was sixteen, how she helped save the world and the real story of how she came to live with her biological family.

"So, it's like a family thing for you?"

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"All these powers out there and I had no idea. Here I was thinking I was some sort of freak."

Claire shot him a look.

"Hey!"

"I didn't say anything," she protested.

"But you were thinking it."

Claire laughed softly and his face relaxed into a smile.

"I'm glad I met you, Claire Petrelli."

When she didn't answer, he pulled her close and gently brushed his soft lips against hers.

"West," she whispered, surprised at her reluctance to pull away from him.

"You're freezing," he observed. "Let's go inside."

She nodded silently as she followed him. "This changes everything."

A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. So much to tell and I wanted to get it just right! I hope the fact this is a significantly longer chapter than usual will make up for it. Hope you enjoy reading - Pip :)

In the next chapter of Volume Six: Truth, Lies and West. Claire and West travel to New York as a new development has implications on the future of her relationship with Peter.