fic: the last one there
“Don’t you get tired of it?” he asks.
“Mmm?” She’s busy scanning the menu card.
“Attention.” He presses, “Don’t you get tired of all the attention?”
Claire looks up from the menu card and meets his gaze before looking around at the groups of whispering and pointing people at the surrounding tables. “Oh,” she says, turning back to him. “Yeah.” She smiles. “It feels weird but it’s not like I hadn’t expected to get attention when I jumped from the wheel. It’s just the positive reaction I hadn’t anticipated.”
“Tell me about it,” he grumbles. In the short distance of his apartment and the diner, they’d had to stop twice. Once by a group of pubescent boys who wanted her autograph; Are you really, like…indestructible? And once by a team of reporters who wanted to talk to her about her recent rescue expeditions.
“You’re putting paramedics and fire fighters to shame,” he says with a laugh.
Claire looks at him over the top of the menu card and raises her eyes, “You were once accused of glory hounding because you wouldn’t let anyone else take their chance at saving people.”
Peter stared at her. “How’d you-”
“Hesam told me,” she says with a smug smile.
“Well…I was never on Oprah!” he says defensively.
Claire looks at him like a mother would look at her arguing child. “Seriously, Peter?” her tone says are we really going there? Peter knows how much she hates talking about her interviews and the press she has to do.
Well, she never should have mentioned the glory hounding. He leans back silently in his seat and crosses his arms.
They order and as soon as the waiter leaves, Claire leans across the table, grinning at him. “So…how’s Emma?”
His cheeks color slightly, “She’s fine.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the spoon and fork lying neatly on a napkin beside him. He can sense that Claire is staring at him and he knows what she’s waiting for. But he’s not going to say it. A minute later, she groans. “Peter you have got to hurry up. You’ve had that ring in your drawer for a month! If you don’t give it to her sooner or later, she’s going to find it herself.”
He sighs and looks up at her. “I know,” he says. “I just don’t know how to do it.”
“How to propose?” she asks incredulously.
“No! I mean, yes…” she raises her eyebrows and he sighs again. “Is it too soon? What if she’s not ready for this?”
Claire smiles at him softly and places her hand over his on the table. “Peter, you two have been dating for a year and a half. She moved in with you six months ago and you both like pistachio ice cream. Need there be any more reason?”
Their food arrives and Claire lets the subject drop.
--
She throws her self at him the second she sees him. “Oh my god! Oh my god! You did it!”
He’s stumbling under her weight and she’s squealing next to his ear and he can only laugh and hug her tighter.
She pulls away, breathless. “What about the ring? did she like the ring?” she asks excitedly.
“She loved it.” He says, placing his hands on her waist to keep her squirming body in place. “I told her it was your choice.”
Claire gives another squeals and hugs him again. “You’re getting married!”
Yes, yes he was.
--
The night before the wedding, Peter goes to the graveyard and sits in front of Nathan’s grave until Claire’s hand on his shoulder breaks through his thoughts and brings him back to reality.
She sits next to him and leans her head on his shoulder, entwining their fingers together. “He would have been so happy for you.” She says quietly.
“He would have been my best man.” A tear runs down his cheek and his fingers tighten around the picture in his hand.
Claire looks at the picture of Nathan’s wedding, at the smiling faces of him and his brother and turns her face into his neck. “I’m sorry.”
--
He stands at the alter and watches Claire walk down the aisle in her bridesmaid dress arm in arm with Hesam, sees his mother sitting in the front seat with tears streaming down her face and he takes a deep breath as the music starts and everyone stands.
His heart rate accelerates when he catches the first glimpse of a white dress.
This is it.
--
The colors surround them, envelope them as he dances with his newly wedded wife and in that moment, it’s just the two of them, moving slowly among the colors that are visible only to their eyes.
He leans down and kisses her softly and he can hear the claps and hooting around them; an added burst of color to the already gentle streaks around them.
He smiles against her lips. I love you.
--
Claire demands a dance and he gladly obliges. She pulls him onto the dance floor and spins around once before placing her hands on his shoulder. He slides his own easily around her waist.
“Congratulations.” She says, grinning widely.
Peter inclines his head in thanks. “You look great,” he comments, looking down at the blue-green dress she’s wearing.
“Thanks.” She says, blushing softly.
They dance silently for a moment until Peter breaks, laughing. “I can count at least ten guys who are checking you out as we dance,”
Claire follows his gaze and turns back quickly, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“I bet they’re wondering if the groom is really dancing with the girl who was on Ellen last week.” That earns him a smack on the shoulder.
“Shut up,” she grumbles.
“I’m the groom. You can’t make me shut up.” He says grinning.
“I’m wearing heels. Watch me.”
--
Through the noise and laughter and eating and drinking, he doesn’t notice Claire’s missing.
Emma’s dancing with Hesam, his mother doesn’t know and the guy Claire was sharing drinks with is nowhere to be seen.
She’s a grown women, she can take care of herself but Peter worries anyways.
When he finds her on the roof of the hotel, he’s not surprised but extremely relieved. She’s okay.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, walking towards her. “I thought you’d ran away with one of your admirers.”
She quickly wipes her face when he sits down next to her. He frowns; “Hey,” he says softly, dipping his head to meet her eyes, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sniffles.
He scoffs, “Don’t lie. It’s obviously not nothing.” She remains silent. “Now come on Claire, I knew you loved me but we could never be…”
“Shut up,” she laughs weakly, punching his arm.
He laughs, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Claire keeps her head bent for a moment before looking up at him, eyes glassy. “It’s just… seeing you tonight with Emma… it just made me feel… I’m happy for you, I am. But it made me think of how I’ll never be able to have that.”
Peter frowns, “You really wanted to marry me?”
“Peter!” she protests.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I’ll never be able to have that life.” Her voice is filled with earnest sadness, “A husband, a family…” she turns away, sniffling.
“That’s not true Claire, you can-”
“I cant!” fresh tears are falling down her face and Peter can tell it’s very serious. “I can’t have a normal life no matter how hard I try. I can save hundreds of people every day and go on national television and pretend I have everything I could hope for. I could marry a thousand different people and live a seemingly happy life but I’d still outlive all of them! I’d outlive my children and my grandchildren and their children and no matter what I do I’d always end up alone! I-”
Peter cuts her off by pulling her into his arms. She’s practically sitting on his lap now. “That’s not true,” he says into her hair. “You’ll always have me.” She buries her face in his chest and cries and he holds onto her tightly as if his life depended on it. He holds her until her shaking shoulders still but he still doesn’t let go.
She pulls away a short while later, wiping her face and brushes away the stray tears with his thumb. “God I feel so horrible. Ruining your wedding by breaking down like this.” She smiles sadly at him.
He cups her face gently, “Claire…” he says softly, “You know that I am always going to be here for you. My getting married doesn’t change that. I am going to stay with you as long as you need me.”
She smiles her sad little smile again and he presses his lips to her forehead, lingering longer than necessary.
“You’d better go back down.” She says, “They’re probably wondering where the groom ran off,” her smile is more genuine now.
“No way.” He says firmly. “I’m not going unless I know your okay.”
“I’m fine.” She says.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Because I cant have you lying to me.”
“I’ll always be honest with you.”
And it’s an echo of the words he’d said to her on another rooftop so long ago. He grips her hand tightly and she returns the pressure; their connection stronger than ever.