Title: To Expect the Unexpected
Recipient: liam22
Pairing(s): Sylar/Claire (with mention of Noah, Nathan & Peter)
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,767
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Summary: Claire works at the Company, many years down the road. Meets up with Sylar very... strangely.
Exhausted, Claire Bennet walked into her office and took off her singed business suit jacket. Her pants barely covered her shapely thighs and her heels were ruined. Just another day at the office... She thought as she walked around her desk and collapsed into the comfy chair. She closed her eyes and leaned back, enjoying the silence. Her partner would be back soon and Claire didn't relish the idea of him walking in on her while in the middle of changing clothes. She opened her eyes to an unusual sight on her desk. Frowning she reached out a once-manicured hand and grasped the tall black stiletto. Inside the cavity was a note; which read:
Clue:
Inside of this, you wish you knew;
Where to find this matching shoe.
Turning the shoe every which way, she couldn't find anything else on it. It was a very beautiful heel; she had jeans that would look great with it... If it had a mate. Puzzled she sat back and cradled the shoe. Inside of this, you wish you knew... What does that mean? In the end, Claire missed her chance to change as the office door opened. Hendrix seemed puzzled to find a lonesome black stiletto being used as a paperweight on his partner's desk.
"Run out of rocks?" Hendrix joked before remembering that Bennet didn't care for jokes. "Sorry." The rest of the day, Claire devoted to filing reports, doing research, and trying to figure out where the other shoe would be found.
The next morning Claire, in no better of a mood then the day before, unlocked her office door to find yet another unusual object on her desk. Because she shared an office with Hendrix, she tended not to lock the door when leaving, but she'd had an idea that whoever was leaving these presents or whatever they were, was someone who didn't need a door to enter a room. Now she was one hundred percent sure she knew who it was. Smiling she walked around her desk and picked up the lone earring. It was a silver hoop with various little hearts dangling off the main loop. Normally Claire wouldn't have worn any earring so girly, but these, or rather this one was a present from Peter. Removing the sticky note with the clue on it, she pulled out the normal workday hoop she had in her ear and put the new hoop in. She dropped the other hoop in her purse and reached for the note.
Clue: Dangle, dangle, dangle, all day long;
Can you find the missing hoop, or is it gone, gone, gone?
Wrinkling her nose, "Come on Peter, surely you can rhyme better than that..." Claire smiled anyway. It's the thought that counts, really... Leaning over her desk, she was about to place the earring clue on top of the shoe clue, when she reread the clue once more. Of course! "It's not just a shoebox... I don't keep my shoeboxes. Peter knows this... So it has to be a closet." Claire immediately looked at the little closet attached to her office. Surely it'd be in my home closet... Or would it? She walked over to the door and opened it quickly. There sitting on top of a box of old paper files, was the other stiletto. Sitting inside the stiletto, was the other earring.
For the next week, Claire walked into the office, hoping for another present and clue, figuring that Peter wouldn't stop at just shoes and earrings. Each day she was disappointed to find nothing. Then one night after getting home rather later than usual, she found a box on the kitchen table. Smiling, she rushed over to it and picked it up. It was a lot lighter than she expected. Sitting down at the table, she pulled on the ribbons and opened the box. Excitement swelled within her as she unfolded the tissue paper to find- a single piece of paper, and nothing else. Frowning she picked up the paper.
Clue:
Inside this box gift-wrapped for you,
A present cut short, gorgeous, and blue.
Where oh, where is it? Perhaps you know,
Snuggled securely in a place you never go.
"A place I never go..." Claire's head was buzzing with all kinds of potential places, but this was Peter. Where would he think she never went? "Thanks a lot Peter, the most cryptic clue yet..." All through her lonely dinner she thought about it. All through work the next day she thought about it. Then she concluded that there really wasn't a place she wouldn't go if she set her mind to it.
****
"Hey, they finally brought in Montez-"
"Yeah?" Claire asked sitting behind her desk pretending to type up a report. She was really just looking through the old reports her dad had filed years ago. "Who scored the snag?" Hendrix laughed.
"Sylar." Claire's head snapped up. She hadn't heard the name in years. She had known, as a mother knows her child is in danger, that Sylar was still alive, but hadn't had the time or resources to search for him. It's not like he's leaving dead bodies around anymore either... At least not till now...
"Damn. Montez's ability would have been an asset to the company... Too bad really." Hendrix laughed again.
"You don't get it Bennet, Sylar brought Montez in alive. They're both down in level five processing. Not only do we get Montez, but Sylar's record has been expunged and he gets a job too." Claire's eyes bulged. No fucking way... She thought as she jumped out of her seat, holstering her weapon. "Hey where're you going?" Hendrix asked as Claire bolted out the door. Claire could hear a distant, "...but you never go to level five..." before she was at the elevators. He's right...
The Company was nothing if not nostalgic. They'd reconstructed Primatech in the same exact location in which it'd burned to the ground. Not only that but the plans were exactly the same, therefore upon her first tour of the new building, Claire had gotten chilled when seeing the cell in his her biological mother had died. Since then, no more trips to level five for her. That would be part of the reason she and Hendrix stayed off of each other's nerves. Claire did the dirty, dangerous work while Hendrix took care of the perp at HQ.
It didn't take long at all before Claire's heels were clicking on concrete once again. She shivered in the damp air and tried to ignore the faint catcalls from the various cells. Making her way to the end of the line, she noted that the last cell was empty. Puzzled she looked back down the way. Shouldn't Montez be here? Oh, please you know you aren't down here to see Montez... Claire literally shook the thoughts away as she looked back into the empty cell. What the hell is that? She punched in her security access code and walked into the abysmally small space. Lying on the cot was a folded piece of fabric, dark blue. She bent and picked it up. Unfurling, the dark blue gown she noted that its length was short and it was strapless with sequins on a built in corset. What the hell... She thought looking at the beautiful dress.
"Hello Claire..." Claire gave a start as the silky smooth rasp of his voice washed over her. She hadn't heard it in so long she almost didn't recognize it. She did not turn around; instead she chose to cling to the dress in her hands. "It's been too long..."
"I knew you weren't dead." His laugh was low, but not unkind.
"Of course not... The piece of glass was merely interrupting the cellular re-growth, once removed... But then you already knew that." All the memories along with the hatred resurfaced and threatened to overwhelm her. She took a deep breath and turned towards the door, hoping that he wasn't blocking her way. He was not. Claire didn't want to see him. She was afraid that, if she saw him, the buried illogical feelings from long ago would resurface, and she didn't need that happening again. Her strides quick and sure, she was at the door before he said anything else, "He has nice taste... That color, the cut, would look gorgeous on you..."
Claire managed to walk to the elevator, but did not bother to return to her office. Good thing she had a second set of keys at the front desk. She was taking a personal day.
****
Several days later a package was delivered. It was small but she still had to sign for it. Inside was a note, and a small box. Inside the box was a simple necklace that matched the earrings she'd found. Smiling she opened the note.
No mystery here, no more clues. Your heart's been on the bench for years. I'm not so sure I can relieve the blues, But if you'll let me, I'll dry your tears.
Heartwarming at the simple, even childishly romantic poem, Claire decided it was time to call her Prince Charming. Today was her off day which was convenient, but not for Peter. He still had to work, thus their conversation was cut very short.
"I got your notes."
"I'm sorry? You'll have to speak up. My phone's been off lately."
"I said, I got your notes and the gifts... Very thoughtful." Claire smiled, her fingers dancing across the fabric of the dress.
"Gifts? Oh yeah it was Nathan's idea... I'd forgotten how you hate Valentine's Day and he suggested we change that." Peter's words made Claire frown just a little. Why would Nathan suggest anything like this... She thought but shrugged. They are abnormally close...
"Will I see you on Valentine's Day?" She asked wondering if the dress, shoes, and jewelry were part of some bigger plans.
"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be around. Listen I gotta go Claire, emergency call."
"Yeah, yeah, go save lives... My hero." She said hanging up the phone. She smiled at his playful words. " '...I'll be around...' Yeah, to surprise me."
****
The Monday before Valentine's Day another smaller package was sent to Claire's desk. There was no note this time only two tickets to the ballet Saturday night. Smiling, Claire taped them to the only picture frame that adorned her desk. It was a photo taken years ago right before Noah had died. It was her dad, Peter, Nathan, and Lyle. It wasn't a great shot. Everyone looked tired and beat up, but to date it was the best photo of her dad. She missed him terribly, but this year the sorrow over his death would not mar her plans. It's time to dry my tears... She thought as she got to work on old reports that needed filing.
The next day another package arrived. This one came with a singer. The flowers were beautiful and not a one clichéd red rose among them. They smelled exotic and quickly pulled out a vase to place them in while the delivery man hummed a few bars. She smiled politely fearing how his voice might sound and hoping that Hendrix stayed gone a little while longer.
"I need you to be my Valentine
Though you may ask me why,
A simple answer I cannot give,
But with you I no longer feel the need to lie.
A mystery to me, the feelings of your heart,
No hint of what you might think or say;
But when I think of you, my heroine
The darkness within me is at bay.
There is in you a loveliness
That cannot be defined,
And so I'll wait, if wait I must,
To be your Valentine."
Claire blinked away the tears that such a weird little song/poem could provoke in her. This was silly and nonsensical when she really thought about. Peter was wooing her and she was falling for every trick in the book. She smiled, thinking the man was done. "To my Valentine: Please be at your favorite restaurant at eight pm Saturday night. Reservation under Heroine. See you then." Claire thanked the man with a little bit of cash and then sat for the rest of the afternoon identifying the flowers in the bouquet.
Wednesday came and went with no note or delivery, which was only made worse by no new assignment. Claire ended up going home early and watching her favorite movie with some ice cream.
Thursday she and Hendrix got an assignment that kept them so busy that Claire forgot to worry about Saturday being Valentine's Day. "So I guess that'll be the last pyro we bring in..." Hendrix said dusting off his singed business jacket. "I know how you hate dealing with them, but honest, everyone else either already had an assignment or it was their day-"
"I know... I know. We don't get to pick and choose our assignments, though you're sweet when turning down ones like these..." Claire trailed off as she took off what was left of her business suit. The pyro in question had had a nasty hangover and hadn't wanted to cooperate. He was now cooling his hands off in ice-cold water in a level five cell. Hendrix hurriedly gathered his stuff and headed out the door.
"See you Monday, Bennet. Have a good Valentine's Day." Claire smiled at her upcoming plans, but was too tired to care about them right now. She used the adjoining bathroom and cleaned herself up, changing into a suit of clothes that she always kept in her office now. Getting home was a haze because she was so tired. Her dreams were filled with dancing and dinner with Peter and at the end of the night, his final declaration of his love for her. Something that in her mind had been pending since the first time they'd met.
****
Sitting at the table in her favorite restaurant, Claire frowned at the ballet tickets. Why would Peter send me tickets to a ballet that was scheduled at the same time I'm supposed to meet him here? She asked herself as she sipped her wine. She laid the tickets on the table and wondered. Thoughts of her dad had come and gone several times today, but she was determined to make Valentine's Day a good day again. This would be the first year since his death that she'd allowed herself the luxury of going out with someone. Usually it was a sad table for two where one never showed up. That had been her way of mourning him.
"Is that a tear I see on that beautiful cheek?" Damn it... I was thinking of him again... She thought before answering the voice.
"I'm sorry, sad memories accompany this day for me..." She said before realizing that she knew the voice. His voice had been low; full of caring so she'd mistook it for a passer-by. Looking up, she knew she didn't have the stamina to fight with him. "Hello Sylar." She said simply.
"Why so sad Claire?" Trying to ignore the shock of hearing sympathy in his voice she shrugged. Sylar nodded as he sat opposite her. Only then did she see that he'd dressed for a date as well. "I know. I think... I think that's why I stopped... Why I reevaluated my life... The fun of the hunt was gone without Noah around..." Claire narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on the table.
"Is this some kind of sick game to you?" She asked, sniffing and wiping an angry hand at her eye. She hoped that her mascara hadn't followed her knuckle across her face. "This was you?" She waved her hand around meaning all the gifts and clues, poems. "You did this? For... for me? Why?" He looked at her, face impassive, hard to read. Cocking his head in such a way that brought back too many intensely frightening memories, Claire visibly flinched from his gaze.
"Can you not see? I am not a normal man, never was in fact. Everything I did was... Outside-the-box... Why should my pursuing of you be any different?" Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes, another tear rolling down her cheek. Sylar would have reached across the table and wiped it away were he convinced she wouldn't recoil in horror. "Yes, in the beginning it was only about acquiring your ability... But after a while, after how much fun it was to goad Noah about you... How I saw him suffocating you with love and protection... Something changed within me..."
"People like you don't change..." She said as the waiter stopped by and topped off her wine glass. Her words were harsh, but the fight that would have been behind them was missing. She didn't feel like fighting with anyone tonight. She sighed before taking a gulp of wine. She looked at Sylar to see that he was frowning. "Did you write the poems? All the little clues? The... the song that the messenger sung? She watched his face as she questioned him. He did seem different, but that was only due to the fact that she'd always been on the 'running' side of their encounters. "How can I know you're telling the truth? That this... whatever you call it is real?"
Sylar's eyebrows rose as he shrugged, "I guess you will just have to trust me, but we both know you don't trust anyone."
"That's not true... The man I trusted was murdered." Sylar nodded. Claire wrapped her arms around herself, grief threatening to take over.
"Pick up your feet." Sylar said suddenly. Claire looked at him curiously as a tear slid down her cheek, but did as he asked. Her chair slowly rounded the table all by itself and came to a rest close to Sylar's own chair. "I'm not so sure I can relieve the blues, But if you'll let me, I'll dry your tears..." He quoted as she looked into his dark eyes. His hand rose slowly, inching towards her face. She was actually a little impatient that he was taking so long, but would never say a word. The brush of his fingertips over her cheek did nothing to dry her tears; instead it spread a warmth through her that touched her achingly hollow heart.
She leaned into his hand, her eyes still on his. "Thank you for all this, but it was silly to buy..." She stopped as she realized something. All those presents and poems had been from Sylar. The only thing that hadn't felt like it'd been from the same person was the ballet tickets. Peter had said he'd given her a present, but she had thought... Doesn't matter now. I wouldn't ask Sylar to go to the ballet anyway... "Never mind..." She said trailing off. Without consciously knowing it, she leaned on the armrest that was closest to Sylar. "Hungry? She asked looking down, a bit embarrassed.
"Starving..." Sylar said as his hand dropped from her face and he rested his arm across her bare shoulders. He smiled as she leaned into his warmth.
****
You would think that after seven glasses of very fine red wine, Claire would be so far gone that she wouldn't care if her corset slipped to her waist, but the truth was, her ability never let her get farther then happily tipsy. Sylar on the other hand was very drunk indeed. Claire giggled as he tried to telekinetically remove his pants, only to leave the waistband along with the zipper around his hips as the rest of the ripped slacks fell to the floor. "You are not doing that to this dress! I adddooorrree this dress." She said slurring the words. Sylar frowned down at his pants. Then shrugged at he stepped out of them. The part that would have hindered any activity was gone and he didn't care about what was left.
Claire giggled more as she walked over to him and slowly unbuttoned and removed the rest of his ruined slacks. "Thanks..." He said pulling her small frame into his arms. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, which wasn't what Claire had expected at all. Lips puckered out, she peeked open an eye to see that Sylar's kiss was done and he was staring at her goofily.
"What?" She asked with both curiosity and disappointment in her voice which only made her giggle again.
"I never thought..."
"Nuh uh, too depressing..." Claire said as she pulled Sylar's face down to her and kissed him. Claire decided that a drunk Sylar was hilarious to have around her, but not around her things. At one point he tried to telekinetically pull her bed to them instead of them going to the bed. Now her bed had half of a corner out of her bedroom door, but they didn't care as they laughed and fell onto it. Claire crawled to the middle of the bed in her strapless bra and thong, with one black stiletto on one foot and started tossing the teddy bears that had managed to stay on the bed to the floor. A twinge did pull at her heart as she tossed the bears her dad had lovingly given her aside, but concluded in her drunken hazed brain that Noah Bennet would also want his Clairebear to be happy.
Sylar tackled Claire and helped her, physically removing the rest of her clothing as he'd already shredded the rest of his. Claire gave one little thought as to what he'd wear tomorrow morning and then shut out everything but his mouth and hands on her. She didn't know what to expect from him sexually. Her own sexual experiences had encompassed at least one person from all walks of life and so knew quite well that the 'bad boy' wasn't always the naughtiest one in bed nor the 'shy guy' the most inexperienced.
So she had no expectations for Sylar, but was still surprised when he turned into this laughing and very clumsy man. Everything was funny to him and she never got tired of hearing his deep booming laughter. Though when he'd started laughing during oral sex, he'd had to stop in order to insure her that he was not laughing at her, and that she was beautiful, and that he would not want to be fucking anyone else right now. Time will tell... Claire thought as she smiled and they enjoyed each other's company for the rest of the night and well into the morning.
-END-