Fic- Whatever it takes 21
Title- Whatever it takes 21
Author- Faythbrady
Ship/Series- Heroes. Sylar/Claire
Rating- YA
Disclaimer- I do not own heroes, only villains :D
Summary- It's time for the bachelor/bachelorette party. Will Sylar convince Claire to ride the tunnel of love? Will Peter win a stuffed duck? Is bringing ex-carnies to a funfair a good idea and does the Ferris Wheel present too much temptation to Claire?
Yes I agree it's a weird summary.
Chapter 21
Peter was more than Sylar's best friend. He was his savior and his life-preserver and his brother in all but blood. Peter kept Sylar sane when no one else could, he believed in him when no one else would and he trusted him when there was no reason to.
Sylar owed Peter his life, his loyalty and his sanity.
That didn't stop him, however, from wishing- very vehemently- said savior down the bottom of a very deep pit.
Peter was, at that moment, trying to explain to Sylar the fundamental importance of Star Wars to everyday life and Sylar was, at that moment, wondering if it would hinder his rehabilitation if he just dropped Peter in the ocean.
During high tide.
“-its the whole culture in the epic battle of good verses evil and seemingly normal people called to fight in wars that they have no idea of the scope of. Han never knew that his actions would save the Empire, he just had that 'here we go again' feeling which swept him along. Although I always felt more like Luke, I mean young boy living in the shadow of his father and more dynamic companions, although in my case Nathan was probably less of an Obi and more of a Boba Fett.”
Peter poked his companion in the shoulder and raised his eyebrows at Sylar's silence. “Sy?”
Sylar gave him a long measured look. “You do realize that I don't care, right?”
“So says Anakin.”
“I'm not your father.”
“Ahh,” Peter pointed at him. “So you do know what I'm talking about.”
Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose as he sidestepped another pedestrian. “I've watched Star Wars, Pete, I am human despite what people may say,” he gave him a look, “I just never saw the appeal of it.”
Peter gaped. “How can you not love Star Wars; epic battle of good and evil!”
Sylar dodged another pedestrian and wondered when it was that people had stopped moving out of his way instinctively. It was seven in the evening and most people should have been more than on their way home by now. So why were there still so many people on the street? He glowered at a jogger who started with surprise. The fear on her face made him feel better for all of ten seconds.
Then he just felt guilty. Damn conscience; if he'd had known how much trouble it was he never would have grown one.
“Sy, are you even listening to me?”
“No.”
Peter ignored him. “Star Warsis awesome.”
So he had been saying for the past half hour. Sylar loved Peter, he really did. As pseudo brothers went Peter was the best. It didn't stop him from being a completely irritating little shit on occasion.
This being one of them.
Peter had the ability to fixate on a subject and talk it to death which, coming from someone with Sylar's capacity for obsession, was just plain crazy. Recently he had developed an interest in the parallels between science fiction and real life.
Sylar was sick of talking about Buffy and how Joss Whedon was a special with emotive abilities. He was also sick and tired of comic books and the desire to pontificate on the meaning of life in Stargate Atlantis. It was obvious that Peter had a guy crush on Joe Flanigan.
“Sy?”
“I heard you the first time. I don't care because the epic battle is political.”
“What?”
Sylar sighed and rolled his eyes. “The whole trilogy is about ousting the evil emperor from his throne and halting the Rebel Alliance. It's one political party verses the dictator. Basically it's Nazi's in space with incest and robots. It's boring.”
Peter watched him for a long moment. “You do realize that you have to move out, right? I can't live with a philistine.”
“But living with a serial killer is fine?”
“Ex-serial killer and yes. You can slaughter people but not diss Star Wars.” Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered to himself. “I am Luke.”
“Because you both whine and take directions from a know-it-all freak or because you both had a thing for a relative?”
“A- don't insult my mother and b-” Peter did a double-take. “I did not!”
“Oh please,” Sylar scoffed, “save the cheerleader? Would you have bothered so much if it was 'save the mathelete'? You were all over her.”
“You're the one in love with her.” Peter's voice squeaked.
“I'm not related,” Sylar beamed broadly, pleased when Peter spluttered and sank back into sullenness.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry.”
They were silent for another long minute.
“She does have Princess Leia like qualities.”
Sylar groaned and slammed his hands over his ears. “For gods sake, Pete, shut up about Star Wars.”
“Fine.”
Peter kicked the concrete, obviously sulking and Sylar relented.
Sylar shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Now Star Trek, there's a show.”
“No way!” Peter slammed his hands on the nearest crossing beacon causing it to change to “WALK” far quicker than it should have. A smile flickered around Sylar's mouth as he remembered that Peter had met with little Micah earlier.
“How can you like a randy space captain screwing his way across the cosmos and hate intergalactic battles?”
“Star Trek is a fascinating show about discovery and diplomacy and curiosity and reaching out to understand the unknown, solving puzzles and making peace whilst Star Wars is about who's lightsaber is bigger. Star Trek is cooler.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Convincing argument, Pete, I can see why you were made Valedictorian.”
“Fine, no way. They have Jedi Mind tricks!”
“Vulcan mind meld.”
“X-wing fighters.”
“The Enterprise.”
“The Jedi.”
“Starfleet.”
“Han Solo.”
“Spock.”
“Darth Vader!”
“Kahn. Nero. The Borg. Klingons. You can't win this, Peter.”
“The Force is strong with me.”
There was a moment of silence.
Sylar just stared. “I can not believe you just said that.”
Peter shrugged a little sheepishly. “Ok, fine. Captain Kirk was a space slut.”
“Chewbacca is a grown up Cousin It. Besides,” Sylar gave Peter a very worrying and very smug grin. “I have three words which prove that Star Wars is inferior. Just three and I win this argument.”
Peter shook his head. “No way.”
Sylar held up a hand and counted off the three words as he said them. “Jar. Jar. Binks.”
“...”
Peter stilled, froze for a long moment and then sagged.
“Fine, you win.”
Sylar nodded. “Now do you think we can change the subject?”
“My bachelor party, my rules,” Peter grinned, “which also means I get to win this argument. Yes!”
“Fine, you can win if we can stop talking about it.”
“Okay.”
“Great.”
“Fine.”
Sylar counted silently in his head.
Four, three, two, one-
“So which Star Trek character do you-”
Thankfully for both him and Sylar he never got to finish the question as they rounded the corner and Peter's brow furrowed.
The pretty lights, screams of the crowd and scents should have clued him in long ago but Peter was nothing if not obtuse.
“Dude, it's a Carnival.”
Sylar gave him a lop-sided grin. “Huh, I guess it is. How about that?”
Before Peter could say anything else they were joined by a small band of people.
Peter had been aware that Mohinder wouldn't be able to make it and no one had been able to find Rene, but he had expected nine of his best male friends. Emphasis on the male.
He gnawed on his lip as Matt presented Janice and little Matty and Edgar whispered something to Tracey who giggled.
Ando, Hiro and Kimiko were joking around with Sean and a little red-haired girl that Peter vaguely recognized whilst Eli and Ian were talking in hushed whispers.
Peter leaned towards Sylar. “Okay, what's going on?”
“Surprise!”
They turned to see Claire beaming brightly with a bemused Emma in tow. Four other women stood behind her, each looking pleased with themselves.
A slow grin started to slide over Peter's face whilst Sylar's turned red in contrast.
Sylar still wasn't sure how to react around Claire.
In his defense Sylar had genuinely been concerned about Luke's welfare and possibly homicidal tendencies. So much so that he had failed to react- twice!- to mentions of his feelings for Claire in her presence.
It hadn't even occurred to him until he'd walked back in and Luke had scratched his head and said.
“Uh sorry for insulting your girlfriend, Sylar.”
Sylar had frowned wearily. “She's not my girlfriend, Luke.”
Luke's eyes had widened. “Uh, so my telling her about the picture in your wallet probably wasn't, like, the best idea ever?”
Sylar opened his mouth to ask what Luke was talking about when it hit him.
“so big bad Sylar got laid and gained his soul?”
“Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit.
All of the blood drained from his face and he sank into the nearest chair.
“Oh. my. god.”
He'd been beyond mortified. And the fact he hadn't even noticed, just taken it as read that everyone knew he loved Claire and it wasn't a big deal. And sure it wasn't. Except that it was IN FRONT OF HER.
Claire had heard Luke say that and he didn't deny it and, oh god, it was a huge deal and the realization made him cringe.
Where was Samuel Sullivan... no, forget that, Hiro Nakamura could turn back time and stop Luke saying such a stupid thing. Hell, he could go back and stop Luke being born. And then Samuel Sullivan could bury his mother just in case.
Didn't he have Hiro on speed dial? Surely the little Japanese guy wouldn't mind doing him that favor, just rewriting time in order to stave off embarrassment.
His fingers had actually flipped open his phone before something occurred to him.
Claire hadn't reacted either.
She hadn't turned up her nose in disgust at the idea of sleeping with him- of course during breakfast she had all but said he could sleep on her bed- and neither had she said anything about the being in love and having her picture... except she'd asked to see the picture.
Was that like asking for proof that he had feelings for her? Did she now know that he loved her? Did she care? Had she been purposely avoiding the subject because she was revolted or maybe because she didn't and couldn't return those feelings? Could he ever bring this up, or should he just forget it and hope that she did the same? When would he know?
And when had he become a teenage girl? Any minute now he was going to call up Molly and ask her for a slumber party to braid hair and talk boys.
He mentally slapped himself and spent the rest of the day determinately avoiding thinking of Claire and warning Luke to keep his mouth shut.
Of course, that didn't help him now that she was in front of him looking cool, clam, collected and he was feeling like a love-sick schoolboy.
Thankfully Peter hadn't noticed his regressing and opened his arms to his niece.
“Claire?”
She grinned at her uncle. “We figured that, since the two of you didn't exactly have the most traditional of courtships you shouldn't have a traditional bachelor or bachelorette party either. So we combined, tonight you and Emma get to have a normal outing with normal fun and friends.”
Peter laughed and grabbed Emma's hand. “Really?”
“All rides and expenses paid for, of course,” Sylar said, holding up a long strip of ride tickets before tucking it in Peter's top pocket.
“And no powers to be used,” Claire raised her voice slightly, including everyone in her warning.
“That means no using telekinesis to win a fluffy duck.” She pointed at Ian who shrugged sheepishly.
“Unless it's for Matty?” Matt asked.
“Unless it's for Matty,” Claire conceded with a beaming smile at the little boy who was staring up at all of the strangers with a big grin on his face.
“Ah, but baby-touch-and-go can do it all himself now,” Hiro bowed to the boy. “Isn't that right Baby Matt Parkman?”
“Not a baby,” Matty pouted, “I'm a big boy, like daddy and Uncle Sylar.”
Peter covered a laugh with his hand. “Uncle Sylar?”
Sylar ignored him. “That's right buddy, and how old are you now?”
“Seven,” Matty said proudly.
“And how old's daddy?” Edgar raised an eyebrow.
“Twenty hundred.” He leaned towards Edgar. “That's old.”
Everyone laughed as Matt groaned. “Thanks, pal.”
“Are we going to go on rides now, daddy?”
“Yes. Before you start on at how very old mommy is too.”
Janice slapped him and turned to face Emma. “Start as you mean to go, Emma. In married life don't give him an inch.”
Emma winked. “Okay.”
“Yes, dear,” Peter faked a subservient demeanor. “I'm your servant, ma'am, where are we going first?”
“I want to go on a roller-coaster.”
“You're wish is my command.” Peter held his arm out for her and everyone followed as the two of them led the way.
Sylar lagged behind, waiting for Claire. She gave him a grin and he sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
She was just going to treat yesterday like it never happened. He decided to follow her lead.
“This was a great idea, Claire,” he said, “I think Peter's gonna love this more than any other idea I could have come up with.”
“I should hope so,” she teased, “Yoga retreat indeed.”
He laughed. “This is so different to the last time I was at a carnival.”
“Technically this is more of a funfair. More rides and less acts. But yeah. The last time I was at a carnival it was to try to stop a megalomaniac from sinking New York. Kinda different.”
Sylar nodded. “Actually I was thinking about when I stayed with them, when I didn't know who I was. Samuel had me helping out at dinner times and digging and it was nice to be a part of a family, even if it was a lie.”
She gave him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “But you do have a family now, Peter, Emma, little Matty. Even me. They do say that friends are the family you chose for yourself. You chose kinda well.”
“That I did.” He ducked his head. “Just to be clear, though. Peter is like my brother and little Matty is like a nephew. You're not my sister.”
Claire shot him a mysterious smile. “Glad to hear it.”
She was called by Tracey before he could think of anything to say to that and she hurried off to see what the ice-queen wanted. Sylar was left hoping that her words meant more than what she'd said.
And wondering if Molly could actually braid hair.
-
The funfair really was a great idea. At first the whole group had stuck together, enjoying each others company as they flitted from ride to ride. They'd all gone on the roller-coaster and waltzers before choosing some low-key rides for Matty.
Nothing would please him more than to ride alongside the grown-ups, playing on the luxury of being the only child in the group and enjoying all of the attention. His green-tinged father had refused to go on the tea-cups with him a second time, citing severe motion sickness, so he'd asked Uncle Sylar to ride in the bumper cars with him.
The picture of the big bad ex-serial killer sat in a tiny red bumper car with a beaming child would be making the rounds at the office come Monday; but it was worth it to see the proud smile on Matty's face and the awkward joy on Sylar's.
After a while, however, the group started to divide. After their experiences with Samuel, Edgar and Eli didn't want to go on the Quaking ride and so they filtered off with their partners to try their hand at a game of chance. Matty and Hiro were too afraid to go on the ghost train so they went to try to hook a duck and Ando and Kimiko decided that this would be great time to revisit one of their earliest memories, with Ando promising not to spill his slushie on Kimiko's dress.
When Peter and Emma headed for the Love Train, Claire held up her hands. “I think I'll stay out here, there are certain things you don't want to see your uncle doing.”
“All right,” Peter laughed, still holding hands with Emma like a giddy teenaged boy. “I'll catch you later. Sy?”
“I'll sit this one out too,” he said with a grin, “the last thing I need is to watch you make an ass out of yourself in the dark. I get enough of that in the daytime.”
“Ha ha,” Peter tugged Emma towards the line and it was just the two of them left standing.
Claire licked her lips. “I guess they'll be in there a while. You wanna grab something to eat?”
“Sure,” he flashed her a grin, “what do you want?”
“Hmm, you know what I'm really in the mood for? Cotton candy.”
“I think I saw a stall this way,” Sylar pointed and fell into step alongside her.
He was actually quite disappointed that Claire hadn't wanted to go on the Love Train. If he could have finagled a way to sit next to her it would have been... incredibly awkward to say the least. He had already sat by her on the Waltzer and had the delicious torture of having her thrown against him at every turn. He had finally anchored her to him with one arm and every rotation had her pressing harder against his body.
For him the ride ended too soon.
He had enjoyed seeing her try her hand at some of the games, though. Being an ex-cheerleader gave her an advantage when it came to dexterity and, more usefully, she had trained with her father and so wowed them all with her shooting accuracy, winning Matty a large fluffy poodle which barked intermittently with a shrill yip. Matt Parkman thanked her with a very dead-pan expression.
After grabbing her cotton candy, Sylar was content to just walk with her around the fair, pointing out prizes and where the games were obviously rigged. It was something he had picked up whilst working at the carnival.
“- and that one is almost impossible since they've weighted the bottom of the cans.”
“Aww,” she pouted, “shame since that gray bear is cute.”
That gray bear was almost the size of Claire and had a pale blue nose. He was wearing a blue sweater that read “Someone Special”.
It was sweet and nerdy and somehow perfect for them.
Sylar rolled up his sleeves and approached the stall.
“Yes sir?” the vendor grinned, “care to try your hand?”
“Give me three sacks.”
Claire tapped his arm as the vendor took his money and returned with the little bags.
“You said it was impossible, it was rigged.” There was deep amusement in her voice. “I just said it was cute.”
“I know,” Sylar said, picking up the first sack. “And I said it was almost impossible.”
She rolled her eyes in affectionate amusement at his arrogance and let him have at it. He took aim, reared back and let the first sack fly.
It slapped against the side and the top tier of the cans from the pyramid toppled.
“Well done, sir,” snarked the vendor. “Only six more cans to go.”
Sylar narrowed his eyes and knocked over three with his next sack.
The vendor barely even tried to hide his smirk as Sylar's remaining sack didn't manage to dislodge the lower cans.
“Not throwing hard enough,” the vendor said, pocketing the money and yawning. “Better luck next time.”
Sylar bit his lip and darted a glance at Claire who was watching him to see what he'd do next.
“Going to have another shot?” the vendor's eyes gleamed as he watched Sylar dip into his pockets.
“Trying to win the bear for the girlfriend, are we? Shame you failed. But if you're not man enough it is a hard game. You might have better luck trying for a smaller prize.”
The vendor gave Claire a very obvious once over, no doubt trying to provoke Sylar into throwing more money his way to prove himself.
Claire glowered even as Sylar's cash disappeared into the vendor's pocket.
His first sack toppled most of the cans, his second took out the last but one row and he took a deep breath.
“One row and the bear is all yours,” the tone made it obvious that the vendor was just playing now and it made Sylar angry. He knew it was rigged, he was aware that this was foolish but he couldn't help it. There was just something about Claire that made him want to do the impossible. There was something about her that made him want to give her the world, let alone a stupid bear.
She leaned closer and whispered. “Is he bugging you as much as he's bugging me?”
“Yes,” he bit out.
“Then maybe, we can relax our rules.” He looked up at her as her eyes danced. “Just this once.”
A smirk slid over his face, a sinister smirk that made the vendor suddenly question the wisdom of provoking this man.
Sylar took a deep breath and concentrated on the can, concentrated on the metal ball bearings that were weighing them down. He fixated on them, making them float with his telekinesis and then let the sack fly. It slammed into the cans with a hard clang, sending them flying off the back of the stall and into the curtain.
The vendor stared in a combination of shock and horror.
Claire squealed. “You did it!”
“You did it,” the vendor's voice was more full of wonder than Claire's. “How did you-?”
Sylar smirked. “I guess I just threw harder. We'll take the gray bear.”
-o-o-o-
Claire hugged the bear to her and didn't even care that she was all but tripping over it. She felt ridiculously teenage; grinning insanely over the fact that some boy had won her a stuffed animal.
Her delight, however, also had Sylar blushing and scuffing his feet like a school-boy so she wasn't alone in this.
They wandered around the funfair, neither wanting particularly to run into their group again, both content to be together.
Sylar was trying to think up another conversation starter- not that he needed to since the silence between them was more comforting than not- when he noted that she wasn't beside him.
He turned around to see her standing still, staring up.
He followed her gaze and let loose a wry chuckle before jogging back to her.
“Regrets?” he said as he stared at the Ferris Wheel.
“You ever wonder what would have happened if I'd have done it?” she asked quietly. “If I'd jumped and outed us all?”
“My base ability, my original is intuitive empathy. I can understand how things work.” He took a deep breath. “You would have jumped and the reporters would have swamped you. Within minutes you'd be a YouTube sensation, within hours every single person on the planet would have known your name. Scientists would be swarming all over themselves to study you, reporters knocking at your door to interview you. People would come to marvel, to gawk and, maybe even, worship you. Superstitious people believing you're some kind of goddess in human form would set up a religion in your name.” He smiled faintly at that, not taking his eyes off her. “You would become a prisoner in your own home, unable to leave the house without being swamped and then, somehow, it would get out that your blood had the ability to heal others and your life would be over. Day and night you would have people begging for you to heal them. They would want to drain you dry, and some would offer to pay millions for one vial of your blood. People would try to kidnap you, bribe you, blackmail you. You'd never be safe. Then the government would decide that you were a useful tool and things would get really bad.”
He watched as she didn't tear her eyes off the revolving wheel, the only sign that she'd heard him was her chest moving a little more rapidly.
“And the others?”
“People would admit to having abilities and it could go two ways. They'd gain celebrity status and positive attention or people would react with fear and jealousy- depends on who and what powers are revealed first. In any case it's only a matter of time before there is another Samuel Sullivan or Eric Doyle... or me. And it would become a nightmare. Those who didn't have abilities hunting those that do; trying to study them to take the abilities, and this time it would be sanctioned by the government. People would squeal on their neighbors, families divided . The Company would be one of the best solutions. No matter how it plays out, segregation and tolerance is really the best we can hope for at this stage in humanity.”
He let her take this in for a moment, knowing that she saw the truth of his words, no matter how much it pained her.
Claire nodded slowly. “Good job I didn't jump then, huh?”
Sylar tried to ignore the anguish in her tone as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “We will outlive this age, Claire. One day we will see a time when people with abilities can walk free and be who they are. You will see it, Claire.”
“Just not yet.” She hugged the bear to her.
He didn't have anything to say to that and Claire eventually shook herself.
“You wanna ride it?”
He blinked. “The Wheel?”
Claire nodded. “You wanna go on with me and Gabriel here.”
His stunned expression made her smile as she squeezed the bear. “You're naming the bear Gabriel?”
“Because he's gray,” she said with the hint of a mischievous grin, “and because he's soft and squishy.”
His heart tripped and he felt soft and squishy at her words. “All right, I'll go on the Ferris Wheel with you. But no jumping off.”
It turned out that Gabriel was not quite big enough to go on the ride with them and so Claire hesitantly left him with the ride attendant as she and Sylar boarded the cart. They pulled down the handrail and were slowly swept up into the air.
She sighed as the noises of the fair started to fade and they were pulled up into the sky.
“I was best friends with this guy called Zach and when my abilities manifested and I was bummed out that mine was so lame, he asked what power I would want.”
Sylar half-shifted in his seat to face her. She looked almost wistful, staring out over the neon flashing lights of the fair, the wind sweeping her hair back. His fingers ached to push the strands away from her face, to let the back of his hand slide over her satin-soft cheeks. He gripped the bar tighter.
“What power would you want?”
“I wanted to fly. Just open your arms and let it all fade away as you soared into the clouds.” She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “To me that was always the coolest power. Forget your telepathy and telekinesis and pyro-whatever. Just being able to fly.” She sighed deeply.
“It is pretty cool.” Sylar bit his lip. “I don't use it much. I don't want to remind you of Nathan but...
if you- I could... I mean, if you ever wanted... I could take you flying.”
He stilled as he waited for her to think about that.
She eventually sighed. “Yeah, I think that would be okay.”
A comfortable silence settled on them as the wheel climbed higher, both of them lost in thought, memories and hopes.
She was still staring thoughtfully out at the glittering New York lights as they reached the top of the wheel.
“Sylar? You remember in the Stanton you told me that you realized that there were bridges to mend?”
“Yeah?”
“When they were mended...what did you imagine would happen on the other side of the bridge?”
“What?”
She turned to face him, her expression both curious and defiant. “What did you want to happen, between us?”
Everything, nothing. Her and him together forever. Life love and everything in between.
Sylar opened his mouth once but nothing came out; it was like hope had stolen all of his words and replaced them with fear.
He swallowed once, twice and still couldn't form the words.
But somehow, miraculously, she seemed to understand. She reached up and touched his face gently.
“Was it something like this?”
Before he could say anything, Claire leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.
The first touch of her lips against his was electric, sending a shiver racing down both their spines at the contact. Sylar gasped at the sensation, his mind whirring in disbelief and desperation. She was kissing him.
His senses reeled as he fought not to drown in it but to cling to the reality.
She kissed him softly, sweetly, just a casual touch that he felt down to his very soul.
She stroked her fingers across his cheeks, nudging his mouth with her lips once more before pulling back.
It took Sylar several seconds before his synapses registered that his eyes were still closed and he blinked.
Claire was biting on her lower lip nervously.
“Anything like that?” she whispered.
It took him two tries before he could answer.
“Y-yeah. Something like... aw hell-”
He abandoned his need for words and went for action instead. Sylar reached out and sank his fingers into her hair, pulling her back to him. He brushed his lips against hers in a gentle but persistent caress that had Claire shuddering against him, pleasure tripping down her spine.
The sigh that ghosted across his lips was enough encouragement for him to sweep in, pressing harder.
He traced his tongue across the seam of her mouth and Claire opened up allowing him to explore the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help the whimper as he angled his head, tangling his fingers in her blonde locks and deepened the kiss, tasting what he had desired for so long.
That desire, that desperation swelled and multiplied as his senses finally believed that he had her in his arms. He yanked her even closer, showing her without words exactly how long he had wanted this kiss. He almost sobbed in relief and desperation that he had this, he had her in his arms like he had always dreamed and it was real; she was real, they were real and nothing would ever compare.
He choked back the urgency and pushed all of his feelings into that one touch of lips.
It may have started out a tentative peck but their chemistry was more of a lab explosion and the kiss took on a life of its own as he ravaged her mouth, Claire caught in the onslaught. She could feel her lips swelling, bruising under his assault only to heal and burn again, a never ending cycle of tingling sensation that she knew she'd never get enough of.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer, cursing the safety rail that held her back from climbing onto his lap.
He tasted so damn good and she just wanted him to devour her.
He seemed to have no problem with that, his mouth hot and insistent. Claire dug her nails into his shoulders, glad that she had something to anchor her, his strong muscles rippling under her fingers as he fought for purchase.
His own hands abandoned her hair and slid up and down her shoulders, her back, her sides; like a kid in a candy store not sure where to touch. He caressed her curves and forced her back against the seat, bending over to enclose her in his body.
Finally the annoying need for oxygen had her ripping her mouth away from his, gasping at the air like a drowning victim; and it wasn't too far off the mark. Her head was swimming and her senses reeling from the unexpected implosion.
Sylar, cursed as she was by the need to breathe, seemed to content himself with tiny gasps of air in between kisses trailed over her cheeks and across her jaw.
Claire arched her back and tilted back her head granting him access to her neck; access which he gladly took, kissing his way down her jawline and scraping his teeth against her pulse point.
Claire groaned in a haze of pleasure filled euphoria. She was trapped against his hard body and her tiny hands fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer.
She let out a small sob and lifted her head, he took the hint and slanted his mouth back over hers, taking more and more until she thought she'd burst.
His hands cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing circles on her cheeks as he tried to bury himself inside her.
She was so lost in the deluge of pleasure that she didn't notice the jolt at first... then the carriage they were in swung slightly and the jolt of them moving startled her out of her fog. Their carriage on the wheel was beginning its descent, which mean that this would soon have to come to an end.
The thought pained Claire.
The notion that they were moving seemed to reach Sylar at the same time.
He had a slightly different reaction.
Without breaking their kiss he flung his hand out and Claire could hear the brief crackle of electricity and a pop. There was a startled scream and a sudden dimming on the lights on the Wheel. Their carriage slammed to a halt.
Claire started to laugh against his lips. Sylar broke away, looking adorably flustered and bewildered; a remarkable example of bedhead and thoroughly kissed that sent her heart thudding way.
“What?” he said, his voice deep and hoarse.
“Did you just fry the Ferris Wheel?”
Sylar's eyes widened and he looked over the edge of their seats to the now smoking circuit box below. The controls to the Ferris Wheel were, indeed, fried and the ride operator was looking both freaked and harassed as he glared at the sparking panel.
Sylar sat back. “Oops?”
Flushing with as much embarrassment as amusement Claire hid her head against his chest and laughed harder.
Sylar gave a low chuckle and stared down at the body wrapped around his. He was slightly perturbed and maybe a little embarrassed by his lack of self-control but he hadn't wanted anything to come between him and Claire, least of all something avoidable- like the ground.
“Well that's one way of dealing with it,” she managed between giggles. “Only how are we going to get down, genius?” Her eyes sparkled as she teased him. “Jump?”
“No.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the pink tinge to his cheeks fading as he registered her amusement rather than annoyance. “They have contingency plans for this kind of stuff. They'll probably get the fire brigade out or have a back up.”
Claire thought about that for a moment. “Huh. I guess that could take a while.”
The impishness in her voice had him looking at her in a whole new light, a grin sliding over his own face. “That it could.”
“You know, you could use TK to get us down,” she pointed out.
“Too many people around,” Sylar shook his head in mock innocence. “We shouldn't risk it.”
Claire bit her lip, devilry in her eyes. “Right, we should just sit tight and wait to be rescued.”
He grinned wolfishly at her and placed his arm around her shoulders. “I don't see anything wrong with staying up here fore a while.”
She leaned towards him. “There's got to be something we can do to pass the time.”
Rescue came an hour later and far too soon.
Author- Faythbrady
Ship/Series- Heroes. Sylar/Claire
Rating- YA
Disclaimer- I do not own heroes, only villains :D
Summary- It's time for the bachelor/bachelorette party. Will Sylar convince Claire to ride the tunnel of love? Will Peter win a stuffed duck? Is bringing ex-carnies to a funfair a good idea and does the Ferris Wheel present too much temptation to Claire?
Yes I agree it's a weird summary.
Chapter 21
Peter was more than Sylar's best friend. He was his savior and his life-preserver and his brother in all but blood. Peter kept Sylar sane when no one else could, he believed in him when no one else would and he trusted him when there was no reason to.
Sylar owed Peter his life, his loyalty and his sanity.
That didn't stop him, however, from wishing- very vehemently- said savior down the bottom of a very deep pit.
Peter was, at that moment, trying to explain to Sylar the fundamental importance of Star Wars to everyday life and Sylar was, at that moment, wondering if it would hinder his rehabilitation if he just dropped Peter in the ocean.
During high tide.
“-its the whole culture in the epic battle of good verses evil and seemingly normal people called to fight in wars that they have no idea of the scope of. Han never knew that his actions would save the Empire, he just had that 'here we go again' feeling which swept him along. Although I always felt more like Luke, I mean young boy living in the shadow of his father and more dynamic companions, although in my case Nathan was probably less of an Obi and more of a Boba Fett.”
Peter poked his companion in the shoulder and raised his eyebrows at Sylar's silence. “Sy?”
Sylar gave him a long measured look. “You do realize that I don't care, right?”
“So says Anakin.”
“I'm not your father.”
“Ahh,” Peter pointed at him. “So you do know what I'm talking about.”
Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose as he sidestepped another pedestrian. “I've watched Star Wars, Pete, I am human despite what people may say,” he gave him a look, “I just never saw the appeal of it.”
Peter gaped. “How can you not love Star Wars; epic battle of good and evil!”
Sylar dodged another pedestrian and wondered when it was that people had stopped moving out of his way instinctively. It was seven in the evening and most people should have been more than on their way home by now. So why were there still so many people on the street? He glowered at a jogger who started with surprise. The fear on her face made him feel better for all of ten seconds.
Then he just felt guilty. Damn conscience; if he'd had known how much trouble it was he never would have grown one.
“Sy, are you even listening to me?”
“No.”
Peter ignored him. “Star Warsis awesome.”
So he had been saying for the past half hour. Sylar loved Peter, he really did. As pseudo brothers went Peter was the best. It didn't stop him from being a completely irritating little shit on occasion.
This being one of them.
Peter had the ability to fixate on a subject and talk it to death which, coming from someone with Sylar's capacity for obsession, was just plain crazy. Recently he had developed an interest in the parallels between science fiction and real life.
Sylar was sick of talking about Buffy and how Joss Whedon was a special with emotive abilities. He was also sick and tired of comic books and the desire to pontificate on the meaning of life in Stargate Atlantis. It was obvious that Peter had a guy crush on Joe Flanigan.
“Sy?”
“I heard you the first time. I don't care because the epic battle is political.”
“What?”
Sylar sighed and rolled his eyes. “The whole trilogy is about ousting the evil emperor from his throne and halting the Rebel Alliance. It's one political party verses the dictator. Basically it's Nazi's in space with incest and robots. It's boring.”
Peter watched him for a long moment. “You do realize that you have to move out, right? I can't live with a philistine.”
“But living with a serial killer is fine?”
“Ex-serial killer and yes. You can slaughter people but not diss Star Wars.” Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered to himself. “I am Luke.”
“Because you both whine and take directions from a know-it-all freak or because you both had a thing for a relative?”
“A- don't insult my mother and b-” Peter did a double-take. “I did not!”
“Oh please,” Sylar scoffed, “save the cheerleader? Would you have bothered so much if it was 'save the mathelete'? You were all over her.”
“You're the one in love with her.” Peter's voice squeaked.
“I'm not related,” Sylar beamed broadly, pleased when Peter spluttered and sank back into sullenness.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry.”
They were silent for another long minute.
“She does have Princess Leia like qualities.”
Sylar groaned and slammed his hands over his ears. “For gods sake, Pete, shut up about Star Wars.”
“Fine.”
Peter kicked the concrete, obviously sulking and Sylar relented.
Sylar shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Now Star Trek, there's a show.”
“No way!” Peter slammed his hands on the nearest crossing beacon causing it to change to “WALK” far quicker than it should have. A smile flickered around Sylar's mouth as he remembered that Peter had met with little Micah earlier.
“How can you like a randy space captain screwing his way across the cosmos and hate intergalactic battles?”
“Star Trek is a fascinating show about discovery and diplomacy and curiosity and reaching out to understand the unknown, solving puzzles and making peace whilst Star Wars is about who's lightsaber is bigger. Star Trek is cooler.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Convincing argument, Pete, I can see why you were made Valedictorian.”
“Fine, no way. They have Jedi Mind tricks!”
“Vulcan mind meld.”
“X-wing fighters.”
“The Enterprise.”
“The Jedi.”
“Starfleet.”
“Han Solo.”
“Spock.”
“Darth Vader!”
“Kahn. Nero. The Borg. Klingons. You can't win this, Peter.”
“The Force is strong with me.”
There was a moment of silence.
Sylar just stared. “I can not believe you just said that.”
Peter shrugged a little sheepishly. “Ok, fine. Captain Kirk was a space slut.”
“Chewbacca is a grown up Cousin It. Besides,” Sylar gave Peter a very worrying and very smug grin. “I have three words which prove that Star Wars is inferior. Just three and I win this argument.”
Peter shook his head. “No way.”
Sylar held up a hand and counted off the three words as he said them. “Jar. Jar. Binks.”
“...”
Peter stilled, froze for a long moment and then sagged.
“Fine, you win.”
Sylar nodded. “Now do you think we can change the subject?”
“My bachelor party, my rules,” Peter grinned, “which also means I get to win this argument. Yes!”
“Fine, you can win if we can stop talking about it.”
“Okay.”
“Great.”
“Fine.”
Sylar counted silently in his head.
Four, three, two, one-
“So which Star Trek character do you-”
Thankfully for both him and Sylar he never got to finish the question as they rounded the corner and Peter's brow furrowed.
The pretty lights, screams of the crowd and scents should have clued him in long ago but Peter was nothing if not obtuse.
“Dude, it's a Carnival.”
Sylar gave him a lop-sided grin. “Huh, I guess it is. How about that?”
Before Peter could say anything else they were joined by a small band of people.
Peter had been aware that Mohinder wouldn't be able to make it and no one had been able to find Rene, but he had expected nine of his best male friends. Emphasis on the male.
He gnawed on his lip as Matt presented Janice and little Matty and Edgar whispered something to Tracey who giggled.
Ando, Hiro and Kimiko were joking around with Sean and a little red-haired girl that Peter vaguely recognized whilst Eli and Ian were talking in hushed whispers.
Peter leaned towards Sylar. “Okay, what's going on?”
“Surprise!”
They turned to see Claire beaming brightly with a bemused Emma in tow. Four other women stood behind her, each looking pleased with themselves.
A slow grin started to slide over Peter's face whilst Sylar's turned red in contrast.
Sylar still wasn't sure how to react around Claire.
In his defense Sylar had genuinely been concerned about Luke's welfare and possibly homicidal tendencies. So much so that he had failed to react- twice!- to mentions of his feelings for Claire in her presence.
It hadn't even occurred to him until he'd walked back in and Luke had scratched his head and said.
“Uh sorry for insulting your girlfriend, Sylar.”
Sylar had frowned wearily. “She's not my girlfriend, Luke.”
Luke's eyes had widened. “Uh, so my telling her about the picture in your wallet probably wasn't, like, the best idea ever?”
Sylar opened his mouth to ask what Luke was talking about when it hit him.
“so big bad Sylar got laid and gained his soul?”
“Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit.
All of the blood drained from his face and he sank into the nearest chair.
“Oh. my. god.”
He'd been beyond mortified. And the fact he hadn't even noticed, just taken it as read that everyone knew he loved Claire and it wasn't a big deal. And sure it wasn't. Except that it was IN FRONT OF HER.
Claire had heard Luke say that and he didn't deny it and, oh god, it was a huge deal and the realization made him cringe.
Where was Samuel Sullivan... no, forget that, Hiro Nakamura could turn back time and stop Luke saying such a stupid thing. Hell, he could go back and stop Luke being born. And then Samuel Sullivan could bury his mother just in case.
Didn't he have Hiro on speed dial? Surely the little Japanese guy wouldn't mind doing him that favor, just rewriting time in order to stave off embarrassment.
His fingers had actually flipped open his phone before something occurred to him.
Claire hadn't reacted either.
She hadn't turned up her nose in disgust at the idea of sleeping with him- of course during breakfast she had all but said he could sleep on her bed- and neither had she said anything about the being in love and having her picture... except she'd asked to see the picture.
Was that like asking for proof that he had feelings for her? Did she now know that he loved her? Did she care? Had she been purposely avoiding the subject because she was revolted or maybe because she didn't and couldn't return those feelings? Could he ever bring this up, or should he just forget it and hope that she did the same? When would he know?
And when had he become a teenage girl? Any minute now he was going to call up Molly and ask her for a slumber party to braid hair and talk boys.
He mentally slapped himself and spent the rest of the day determinately avoiding thinking of Claire and warning Luke to keep his mouth shut.
Of course, that didn't help him now that she was in front of him looking cool, clam, collected and he was feeling like a love-sick schoolboy.
Thankfully Peter hadn't noticed his regressing and opened his arms to his niece.
“Claire?”
She grinned at her uncle. “We figured that, since the two of you didn't exactly have the most traditional of courtships you shouldn't have a traditional bachelor or bachelorette party either. So we combined, tonight you and Emma get to have a normal outing with normal fun and friends.”
Peter laughed and grabbed Emma's hand. “Really?”
“All rides and expenses paid for, of course,” Sylar said, holding up a long strip of ride tickets before tucking it in Peter's top pocket.
“And no powers to be used,” Claire raised her voice slightly, including everyone in her warning.
“That means no using telekinesis to win a fluffy duck.” She pointed at Ian who shrugged sheepishly.
“Unless it's for Matty?” Matt asked.
“Unless it's for Matty,” Claire conceded with a beaming smile at the little boy who was staring up at all of the strangers with a big grin on his face.
“Ah, but baby-touch-and-go can do it all himself now,” Hiro bowed to the boy. “Isn't that right Baby Matt Parkman?”
“Not a baby,” Matty pouted, “I'm a big boy, like daddy and Uncle Sylar.”
Peter covered a laugh with his hand. “Uncle Sylar?”
Sylar ignored him. “That's right buddy, and how old are you now?”
“Seven,” Matty said proudly.
“And how old's daddy?” Edgar raised an eyebrow.
“Twenty hundred.” He leaned towards Edgar. “That's old.”
Everyone laughed as Matt groaned. “Thanks, pal.”
“Are we going to go on rides now, daddy?”
“Yes. Before you start on at how very old mommy is too.”
Janice slapped him and turned to face Emma. “Start as you mean to go, Emma. In married life don't give him an inch.”
Emma winked. “Okay.”
“Yes, dear,” Peter faked a subservient demeanor. “I'm your servant, ma'am, where are we going first?”
“I want to go on a roller-coaster.”
“You're wish is my command.” Peter held his arm out for her and everyone followed as the two of them led the way.
Sylar lagged behind, waiting for Claire. She gave him a grin and he sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
She was just going to treat yesterday like it never happened. He decided to follow her lead.
“This was a great idea, Claire,” he said, “I think Peter's gonna love this more than any other idea I could have come up with.”
“I should hope so,” she teased, “Yoga retreat indeed.”
He laughed. “This is so different to the last time I was at a carnival.”
“Technically this is more of a funfair. More rides and less acts. But yeah. The last time I was at a carnival it was to try to stop a megalomaniac from sinking New York. Kinda different.”
Sylar nodded. “Actually I was thinking about when I stayed with them, when I didn't know who I was. Samuel had me helping out at dinner times and digging and it was nice to be a part of a family, even if it was a lie.”
She gave him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “But you do have a family now, Peter, Emma, little Matty. Even me. They do say that friends are the family you chose for yourself. You chose kinda well.”
“That I did.” He ducked his head. “Just to be clear, though. Peter is like my brother and little Matty is like a nephew. You're not my sister.”
Claire shot him a mysterious smile. “Glad to hear it.”
She was called by Tracey before he could think of anything to say to that and she hurried off to see what the ice-queen wanted. Sylar was left hoping that her words meant more than what she'd said.
And wondering if Molly could actually braid hair.
-
The funfair really was a great idea. At first the whole group had stuck together, enjoying each others company as they flitted from ride to ride. They'd all gone on the roller-coaster and waltzers before choosing some low-key rides for Matty.
Nothing would please him more than to ride alongside the grown-ups, playing on the luxury of being the only child in the group and enjoying all of the attention. His green-tinged father had refused to go on the tea-cups with him a second time, citing severe motion sickness, so he'd asked Uncle Sylar to ride in the bumper cars with him.
The picture of the big bad ex-serial killer sat in a tiny red bumper car with a beaming child would be making the rounds at the office come Monday; but it was worth it to see the proud smile on Matty's face and the awkward joy on Sylar's.
After a while, however, the group started to divide. After their experiences with Samuel, Edgar and Eli didn't want to go on the Quaking ride and so they filtered off with their partners to try their hand at a game of chance. Matty and Hiro were too afraid to go on the ghost train so they went to try to hook a duck and Ando and Kimiko decided that this would be great time to revisit one of their earliest memories, with Ando promising not to spill his slushie on Kimiko's dress.
When Peter and Emma headed for the Love Train, Claire held up her hands. “I think I'll stay out here, there are certain things you don't want to see your uncle doing.”
“All right,” Peter laughed, still holding hands with Emma like a giddy teenaged boy. “I'll catch you later. Sy?”
“I'll sit this one out too,” he said with a grin, “the last thing I need is to watch you make an ass out of yourself in the dark. I get enough of that in the daytime.”
“Ha ha,” Peter tugged Emma towards the line and it was just the two of them left standing.
Claire licked her lips. “I guess they'll be in there a while. You wanna grab something to eat?”
“Sure,” he flashed her a grin, “what do you want?”
“Hmm, you know what I'm really in the mood for? Cotton candy.”
“I think I saw a stall this way,” Sylar pointed and fell into step alongside her.
He was actually quite disappointed that Claire hadn't wanted to go on the Love Train. If he could have finagled a way to sit next to her it would have been... incredibly awkward to say the least. He had already sat by her on the Waltzer and had the delicious torture of having her thrown against him at every turn. He had finally anchored her to him with one arm and every rotation had her pressing harder against his body.
For him the ride ended too soon.
He had enjoyed seeing her try her hand at some of the games, though. Being an ex-cheerleader gave her an advantage when it came to dexterity and, more usefully, she had trained with her father and so wowed them all with her shooting accuracy, winning Matty a large fluffy poodle which barked intermittently with a shrill yip. Matt Parkman thanked her with a very dead-pan expression.
After grabbing her cotton candy, Sylar was content to just walk with her around the fair, pointing out prizes and where the games were obviously rigged. It was something he had picked up whilst working at the carnival.
“- and that one is almost impossible since they've weighted the bottom of the cans.”
“Aww,” she pouted, “shame since that gray bear is cute.”
That gray bear was almost the size of Claire and had a pale blue nose. He was wearing a blue sweater that read “Someone Special”.
It was sweet and nerdy and somehow perfect for them.
Sylar rolled up his sleeves and approached the stall.
“Yes sir?” the vendor grinned, “care to try your hand?”
“Give me three sacks.”
Claire tapped his arm as the vendor took his money and returned with the little bags.
“You said it was impossible, it was rigged.” There was deep amusement in her voice. “I just said it was cute.”
“I know,” Sylar said, picking up the first sack. “And I said it was almost impossible.”
She rolled her eyes in affectionate amusement at his arrogance and let him have at it. He took aim, reared back and let the first sack fly.
It slapped against the side and the top tier of the cans from the pyramid toppled.
“Well done, sir,” snarked the vendor. “Only six more cans to go.”
Sylar narrowed his eyes and knocked over three with his next sack.
The vendor barely even tried to hide his smirk as Sylar's remaining sack didn't manage to dislodge the lower cans.
“Not throwing hard enough,” the vendor said, pocketing the money and yawning. “Better luck next time.”
Sylar bit his lip and darted a glance at Claire who was watching him to see what he'd do next.
“Going to have another shot?” the vendor's eyes gleamed as he watched Sylar dip into his pockets.
“Trying to win the bear for the girlfriend, are we? Shame you failed. But if you're not man enough it is a hard game. You might have better luck trying for a smaller prize.”
The vendor gave Claire a very obvious once over, no doubt trying to provoke Sylar into throwing more money his way to prove himself.
Claire glowered even as Sylar's cash disappeared into the vendor's pocket.
His first sack toppled most of the cans, his second took out the last but one row and he took a deep breath.
“One row and the bear is all yours,” the tone made it obvious that the vendor was just playing now and it made Sylar angry. He knew it was rigged, he was aware that this was foolish but he couldn't help it. There was just something about Claire that made him want to do the impossible. There was something about her that made him want to give her the world, let alone a stupid bear.
She leaned closer and whispered. “Is he bugging you as much as he's bugging me?”
“Yes,” he bit out.
“Then maybe, we can relax our rules.” He looked up at her as her eyes danced. “Just this once.”
A smirk slid over his face, a sinister smirk that made the vendor suddenly question the wisdom of provoking this man.
Sylar took a deep breath and concentrated on the can, concentrated on the metal ball bearings that were weighing them down. He fixated on them, making them float with his telekinesis and then let the sack fly. It slammed into the cans with a hard clang, sending them flying off the back of the stall and into the curtain.
The vendor stared in a combination of shock and horror.
Claire squealed. “You did it!”
“You did it,” the vendor's voice was more full of wonder than Claire's. “How did you-?”
Sylar smirked. “I guess I just threw harder. We'll take the gray bear.”
-o-o-o-
Claire hugged the bear to her and didn't even care that she was all but tripping over it. She felt ridiculously teenage; grinning insanely over the fact that some boy had won her a stuffed animal.
Her delight, however, also had Sylar blushing and scuffing his feet like a school-boy so she wasn't alone in this.
They wandered around the funfair, neither wanting particularly to run into their group again, both content to be together.
Sylar was trying to think up another conversation starter- not that he needed to since the silence between them was more comforting than not- when he noted that she wasn't beside him.
He turned around to see her standing still, staring up.
He followed her gaze and let loose a wry chuckle before jogging back to her.
“Regrets?” he said as he stared at the Ferris Wheel.
“You ever wonder what would have happened if I'd have done it?” she asked quietly. “If I'd jumped and outed us all?”
“My base ability, my original is intuitive empathy. I can understand how things work.” He took a deep breath. “You would have jumped and the reporters would have swamped you. Within minutes you'd be a YouTube sensation, within hours every single person on the planet would have known your name. Scientists would be swarming all over themselves to study you, reporters knocking at your door to interview you. People would come to marvel, to gawk and, maybe even, worship you. Superstitious people believing you're some kind of goddess in human form would set up a religion in your name.” He smiled faintly at that, not taking his eyes off her. “You would become a prisoner in your own home, unable to leave the house without being swamped and then, somehow, it would get out that your blood had the ability to heal others and your life would be over. Day and night you would have people begging for you to heal them. They would want to drain you dry, and some would offer to pay millions for one vial of your blood. People would try to kidnap you, bribe you, blackmail you. You'd never be safe. Then the government would decide that you were a useful tool and things would get really bad.”
He watched as she didn't tear her eyes off the revolving wheel, the only sign that she'd heard him was her chest moving a little more rapidly.
“And the others?”
“People would admit to having abilities and it could go two ways. They'd gain celebrity status and positive attention or people would react with fear and jealousy- depends on who and what powers are revealed first. In any case it's only a matter of time before there is another Samuel Sullivan or Eric Doyle... or me. And it would become a nightmare. Those who didn't have abilities hunting those that do; trying to study them to take the abilities, and this time it would be sanctioned by the government. People would squeal on their neighbors, families divided . The Company would be one of the best solutions. No matter how it plays out, segregation and tolerance is really the best we can hope for at this stage in humanity.”
He let her take this in for a moment, knowing that she saw the truth of his words, no matter how much it pained her.
Claire nodded slowly. “Good job I didn't jump then, huh?”
Sylar tried to ignore the anguish in her tone as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “We will outlive this age, Claire. One day we will see a time when people with abilities can walk free and be who they are. You will see it, Claire.”
“Just not yet.” She hugged the bear to her.
He didn't have anything to say to that and Claire eventually shook herself.
“You wanna ride it?”
He blinked. “The Wheel?”
Claire nodded. “You wanna go on with me and Gabriel here.”
His stunned expression made her smile as she squeezed the bear. “You're naming the bear Gabriel?”
“Because he's gray,” she said with the hint of a mischievous grin, “and because he's soft and squishy.”
His heart tripped and he felt soft and squishy at her words. “All right, I'll go on the Ferris Wheel with you. But no jumping off.”
It turned out that Gabriel was not quite big enough to go on the ride with them and so Claire hesitantly left him with the ride attendant as she and Sylar boarded the cart. They pulled down the handrail and were slowly swept up into the air.
She sighed as the noises of the fair started to fade and they were pulled up into the sky.
“I was best friends with this guy called Zach and when my abilities manifested and I was bummed out that mine was so lame, he asked what power I would want.”
Sylar half-shifted in his seat to face her. She looked almost wistful, staring out over the neon flashing lights of the fair, the wind sweeping her hair back. His fingers ached to push the strands away from her face, to let the back of his hand slide over her satin-soft cheeks. He gripped the bar tighter.
“What power would you want?”
“I wanted to fly. Just open your arms and let it all fade away as you soared into the clouds.” She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “To me that was always the coolest power. Forget your telepathy and telekinesis and pyro-whatever. Just being able to fly.” She sighed deeply.
“It is pretty cool.” Sylar bit his lip. “I don't use it much. I don't want to remind you of Nathan but...
if you- I could... I mean, if you ever wanted... I could take you flying.”
He stilled as he waited for her to think about that.
She eventually sighed. “Yeah, I think that would be okay.”
A comfortable silence settled on them as the wheel climbed higher, both of them lost in thought, memories and hopes.
She was still staring thoughtfully out at the glittering New York lights as they reached the top of the wheel.
“Sylar? You remember in the Stanton you told me that you realized that there were bridges to mend?”
“Yeah?”
“When they were mended...what did you imagine would happen on the other side of the bridge?”
“What?”
She turned to face him, her expression both curious and defiant. “What did you want to happen, between us?”
Everything, nothing. Her and him together forever. Life love and everything in between.
Sylar opened his mouth once but nothing came out; it was like hope had stolen all of his words and replaced them with fear.
He swallowed once, twice and still couldn't form the words.
But somehow, miraculously, she seemed to understand. She reached up and touched his face gently.
“Was it something like this?”
Before he could say anything, Claire leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.
The first touch of her lips against his was electric, sending a shiver racing down both their spines at the contact. Sylar gasped at the sensation, his mind whirring in disbelief and desperation. She was kissing him.
His senses reeled as he fought not to drown in it but to cling to the reality.
She kissed him softly, sweetly, just a casual touch that he felt down to his very soul.
She stroked her fingers across his cheeks, nudging his mouth with her lips once more before pulling back.
It took Sylar several seconds before his synapses registered that his eyes were still closed and he blinked.
Claire was biting on her lower lip nervously.
“Anything like that?” she whispered.
It took him two tries before he could answer.
“Y-yeah. Something like... aw hell-”
He abandoned his need for words and went for action instead. Sylar reached out and sank his fingers into her hair, pulling her back to him. He brushed his lips against hers in a gentle but persistent caress that had Claire shuddering against him, pleasure tripping down her spine.
The sigh that ghosted across his lips was enough encouragement for him to sweep in, pressing harder.
He traced his tongue across the seam of her mouth and Claire opened up allowing him to explore the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help the whimper as he angled his head, tangling his fingers in her blonde locks and deepened the kiss, tasting what he had desired for so long.
That desire, that desperation swelled and multiplied as his senses finally believed that he had her in his arms. He yanked her even closer, showing her without words exactly how long he had wanted this kiss. He almost sobbed in relief and desperation that he had this, he had her in his arms like he had always dreamed and it was real; she was real, they were real and nothing would ever compare.
He choked back the urgency and pushed all of his feelings into that one touch of lips.
It may have started out a tentative peck but their chemistry was more of a lab explosion and the kiss took on a life of its own as he ravaged her mouth, Claire caught in the onslaught. She could feel her lips swelling, bruising under his assault only to heal and burn again, a never ending cycle of tingling sensation that she knew she'd never get enough of.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer, cursing the safety rail that held her back from climbing onto his lap.
He tasted so damn good and she just wanted him to devour her.
He seemed to have no problem with that, his mouth hot and insistent. Claire dug her nails into his shoulders, glad that she had something to anchor her, his strong muscles rippling under her fingers as he fought for purchase.
His own hands abandoned her hair and slid up and down her shoulders, her back, her sides; like a kid in a candy store not sure where to touch. He caressed her curves and forced her back against the seat, bending over to enclose her in his body.
Finally the annoying need for oxygen had her ripping her mouth away from his, gasping at the air like a drowning victim; and it wasn't too far off the mark. Her head was swimming and her senses reeling from the unexpected implosion.
Sylar, cursed as she was by the need to breathe, seemed to content himself with tiny gasps of air in between kisses trailed over her cheeks and across her jaw.
Claire arched her back and tilted back her head granting him access to her neck; access which he gladly took, kissing his way down her jawline and scraping his teeth against her pulse point.
Claire groaned in a haze of pleasure filled euphoria. She was trapped against his hard body and her tiny hands fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer.
She let out a small sob and lifted her head, he took the hint and slanted his mouth back over hers, taking more and more until she thought she'd burst.
His hands cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing circles on her cheeks as he tried to bury himself inside her.
She was so lost in the deluge of pleasure that she didn't notice the jolt at first... then the carriage they were in swung slightly and the jolt of them moving startled her out of her fog. Their carriage on the wheel was beginning its descent, which mean that this would soon have to come to an end.
The thought pained Claire.
The notion that they were moving seemed to reach Sylar at the same time.
He had a slightly different reaction.
Without breaking their kiss he flung his hand out and Claire could hear the brief crackle of electricity and a pop. There was a startled scream and a sudden dimming on the lights on the Wheel. Their carriage slammed to a halt.
Claire started to laugh against his lips. Sylar broke away, looking adorably flustered and bewildered; a remarkable example of bedhead and thoroughly kissed that sent her heart thudding way.
“What?” he said, his voice deep and hoarse.
“Did you just fry the Ferris Wheel?”
Sylar's eyes widened and he looked over the edge of their seats to the now smoking circuit box below. The controls to the Ferris Wheel were, indeed, fried and the ride operator was looking both freaked and harassed as he glared at the sparking panel.
Sylar sat back. “Oops?”
Flushing with as much embarrassment as amusement Claire hid her head against his chest and laughed harder.
Sylar gave a low chuckle and stared down at the body wrapped around his. He was slightly perturbed and maybe a little embarrassed by his lack of self-control but he hadn't wanted anything to come between him and Claire, least of all something avoidable- like the ground.
“Well that's one way of dealing with it,” she managed between giggles. “Only how are we going to get down, genius?” Her eyes sparkled as she teased him. “Jump?”
“No.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the pink tinge to his cheeks fading as he registered her amusement rather than annoyance. “They have contingency plans for this kind of stuff. They'll probably get the fire brigade out or have a back up.”
Claire thought about that for a moment. “Huh. I guess that could take a while.”
The impishness in her voice had him looking at her in a whole new light, a grin sliding over his own face. “That it could.”
“You know, you could use TK to get us down,” she pointed out.
“Too many people around,” Sylar shook his head in mock innocence. “We shouldn't risk it.”
Claire bit her lip, devilry in her eyes. “Right, we should just sit tight and wait to be rescued.”
He grinned wolfishly at her and placed his arm around her shoulders. “I don't see anything wrong with staying up here fore a while.”
She leaned towards him. “There's got to be something we can do to pass the time.”
Rescue came an hour later and far too soon.