Title: 58/100 DINNER
Pairing: Nathan/Claire
Rating: PG
Word Count: 927
Summary: After deciding that she needs to leave the Bennet house, Claire deicides to take her biological dad's offer to stay with him. It is understood that Noah and Claire were in a relationship which tore apart the Bennet household. Claire made the choice to separate from Noah in hopes that he'd work things out with Sandra.
Blowing off steam, running on the treadmill. Burning off those calories from lunch. Swimming. Taking a shower. Now I sit, in the living room bored to death. It's six pm and Nathan isn't home yet. He's always home with dinner by six. I guess meetings went over or he had- Hell I don't know what he does all day. The point is I'm hungry and food isn't here yet.
I flip through the channels idly while twirling a strand of hair between my fingers. I let it air dry which I shouldn't do because it gets so poufy. There's absolutely nothing on and my stomach's growled for the seventeenth time already. I get up (for the sixth time) and look through the cabinets and fridge in hopes that something would be there (that wasn't there the last five times I did this). "Damn it." He'd left me a number to call in case of an emergency. I was sorely tempted to call just to yell that I was hungry.
I flop back on the couch grabbing the blanket that always smells like him, wide open spaces and fresh crisp wind, when there's a knock on the door. "About time!" I yell getting up and throwing open the door. "I'm starv- Oh." It's not Nathan with his arms full of food. It's his chauffeur. I cross my arms over my chest with a bored expression, "Where is he?"
"If you would Miss Bennet, come with me."
"What?"
"Mr. Petrelli has asked me to pick you up for dinner." My stomach growls as do I.
"Mr. Petrelli better be getting his ass home. I'm not-"
"We will be late if you do not hurry and change." I look down at my blue jean shorts and normal t-shirt. My freshly painted toes sticking out of flip-flops. I smile.
"Fancy place I take it?" The driver nods. "One moment." I turn, closing the door. Rude, but hey whatever. I grab my bag and keys. I step outside and lock the door. Walking to the car. "Well come on. I'm hungry."
"But Miss Bennet you are requested to dress appropriately... Wait!" I don't. I pull open my door and jump in. Nathan forgets to feed me, he forgets to call and say we're eating out, then I'll forget to change.
"Let's go." The driver reluctantly gets in and we're off. Takes about fifteen minutes in DC traffic to get to the restaurant. I'm out of the car before Pierre can get around to opening my door. I try and not laugh as the rich snots walking through the restaurant doors making disapproving noises at my clothes. I don't care. I'm still very hungry.
"I'm sorry Miss Bennet, but you are not properly attired. Please-"
"I'm sorry, but Miss Bennet is my guest and she can wear what she pleases." Nathan says smoothly as he walks up looking every bit a Senator.
"But sir the other guests-"
"Can deal with one young lady not having the proper attire." I want to stick my tongue out to the stuck up Ma tre D but decide to follow Nathan like a good little girl to our table. "I would have thought you'd want to be presentable..." He says low to me.
"Sorry, I was too hungry to think about appearances. You could have called you ass." I hear a few people chuckle at my language or was it my clothes, who gives a crap.
"Yes, I could have. I'm sorry." He holds the chair out for me. I sit smiling at the people staring. I'm a bit self conscious, but too hungry to care. "How was your day?"
"Boring, have you ordered?" I ask looking at the menu the waiter hands me. "I want a coke to drink-"
"Tea." Nathan says interrupting me. I look at him. "No I haven't ordered, was waiting for you."
"Hmm. What kept you at the office so long?" I feel like steak. Mmmm, a nice medium rare steak sounds really good.
"The usual. All very boring." I roll my eyes setting the menu down.
"I don't know if you know this, but Nathan I have no clue what you do while you're at work. You hardly talk to me about anything besides my mother and your sons." I lower my voice, leaning across the table a little, "This is as awkward for me as it is for you. I don't know how to treat you and you don't know what to do with me. It's fine. I expected that, but common decency like calling me when you'll be late and talking to me as if I might care about what you are doing during the day is a damn good start." I'm seconds done when I realize what I've said and my cheeks flame. I pick the menu back up, hiding.
The waiter comes back with our drinks, tea the prick and we order. I have nothing to hide behind now and I hazard a look up and catch his eyes. He's smiling at me. "What?" I sip my tea. He does that little lip pout and shakes his head.
"Nothing, it's just I never thought you'd be interested in anything I say. You're honest, when you're hungry." I crack a smile as he does. "You're also right. I don't know how to act with you. The instinct to act like a father to you isn't there because, well you have or had a father." I realize that subject will always be touchy. I nod, letting him know I agreed.