fic: it's all cute 'til someone dies (Claire, Sylar) PG
Title: it's all cute 'til someone dies
Author: Eliza Ann (frozenmolasses)
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Sylar (Gabriel)
Summary: He nervously pulls on his sleeves without seeming to notice as she hands him the watch. She wonders if it's because he has absolutely no skill at his profession or because she's pretty and blonde and has breasts.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Totally AU, but closely resembles S1.
Words: 990
A/N: What if the S1 villain was a different character? Claire has IA, Gabriel can heal himself. Ridiculously AU fic ensues. This kinda makes no sense, but I've wanted to write this for forever, and I finally did. I tried to create a character that was Claire if she was a Sylar-ish psycho killer. Title from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
The gentle ticking of the workroom reminds her of a song. All the parts coming together, fitting in to create something beautiful.
Claire prefers clocks to music, though. Lyrics and melodies are something everyone can understand, or at least appreciate. But the tiniest inner-workings of a system, so delicate and intricate that they could be fractured by the simplest change, that's something only she seems to truly understand. And she likes it that way.
But this is wrong. The tick-tocks are off key, there's no harmony. It almost physically hurts her to enter the room, and she wonders why someone so useless at fixing watches could possibly decide to dedicate their life to it.
"Can I help you with something, uh, Miss?"
The sheepishness of the voice is nothing in comparison to the person it comes from. He's tall, all limbs and combed, dark hair, but the first thing she notices is the sweater-vest.
It's argyle.
She resists the urge to cringe.
Claire's never been one of those girls, who make fun of anyone who doesn't meet their jock-cheerleader standards, not even before she discovered her power. But if she had known this guy when he was in high school, she wouldn't have even given him a second glance. Probably still wouldn't, if she'd passed him on the street any other day.
Had he not shown up on her very special little list, he would be utterly insignificant. Nothing.
As it were, he had one tiny, but important use. Really, he should feel honored that she bothered to give him her Homecoming Queen smile and bat her eyelashes innocently, instead of going straight for his scalp. If only someone had taught her not to play with her food...
"Yeah, hi, I'm Claire Bennet. I'm kinda here to have my watched fixed. I called..." She reaches into her pocket, considers just leaving the timepiece in there and skipping to part that matters. The part involving his death.
But the words seem to cause even more unease to appear on his face and she can't quite resist. He obviously has no idea what he's doing, and she wonders, not for the first time, how he had ended up with his own watch shop.
"Right, of course. Gabriel Gray," he says in greeting, "which you probably remember form the phone call. You, um, want me to fix it?" He nervously pulls on his sleeves without seeming to notice as she hands him the watch. She wonders if it's because he has absolutely no skill at his profession or because she's pretty and blonde and has breasts.
"Well, yeah. It says 'Timepiece Repair' on the sign. I want you to repair my timepiece."
It's not as if she needs someone to really help her, she could easily set all the clocks in the little shop right, but she'd thought she'd need some sort of disguise. She now realizes that she could have handed him a pineapple and he still wouldn't have any more of a clue of what he was doing. Apparently a bit of clumsy handling of their clocks and watches is enough to appease the average customer.
He opens up the back and fumbles with the tiny pieces, and it makes her kind of uncomfortable to see the delicate machinery so mishandled.
"Mr. Gray, can I ask you a question?"
"What?" He looks up. "Yes, yes of course."
"What are you doing?" She fixes him with a mocking gaze.
His hands shake a little. "What? I-I'm... this wheel here is, uh,-"
"Not the watch," she says, walking slowly closer to him, like a hawk circling it's prey. Gabriel doesn't move a muscle, yet he visibly shrinks. "Because there aren't enough excuses in the world to explain how what you're doing could possibly help. I mean, in general, with your life."
He looks ashamed, like somehow her blunt rudeness translates into it being his fault. Ah, self-pity. She loves it when they know how pathetic they are.
"First of all," she continues, "here you are, in a clock repair shop, when you obviously don't know the first thing about clocks or watches or any kind of timepiece. Second, you're going to part your hair there, really? To each his own, but come on." He's growing increasingly uncomfortable and she revels in how he squirms under her gaze. "And the rest, well," -she looks him up and down- "that just speaks for itself, doesn't it?"
"Miss Bennet, um, I don't quite know what you're getting at. I, um..."
"Oh, Gabriel, I think you know exactly what I'm getting at. This shell of a life you're living, I think you want to break out of it just as much as I want to break open your skull and take what's mine." Her eyes turn ferocious, hungry. He drops the watch now and backs up a little, she follows. The fact that he towers over her seems to be irrelevant as she corners him towards the wall. "You're insignificant. If I killed you right now, can you name one person who would miss you? Or even notice?"
He swallows audibly and his lips look like they want to move but no sound comes out.
"Well, Gabe?"
A deep, unsteady breath. "No, I- no."
He's quickly pushed back onto the wall against his will when she flicks her fingers a bit. Most people scream or try to run but he just stares at her, frozen and ashamed because he wants this. He wants to die. And who is she to refuse?
She raises her fingers and he finally says something else. "Wh-why are you doing this?"
She smirks, the feeling of sweet victory raining down on her before she's even got his power. This one was just too easy. And a little too fun.
"Because, Gabriel, you're broken. But don't worry," she tells him, drawing a line of blood across his forehead. "I can fix you."
Author: Eliza Ann (frozenmolasses)
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Sylar (Gabriel)
Summary: He nervously pulls on his sleeves without seeming to notice as she hands him the watch. She wonders if it's because he has absolutely no skill at his profession or because she's pretty and blonde and has breasts.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Totally AU, but closely resembles S1.
Words: 990
A/N: What if the S1 villain was a different character? Claire has IA, Gabriel can heal himself. Ridiculously AU fic ensues. This kinda makes no sense, but I've wanted to write this for forever, and I finally did. I tried to create a character that was Claire if she was a Sylar-ish psycho killer. Title from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
The gentle ticking of the workroom reminds her of a song. All the parts coming together, fitting in to create something beautiful.
Claire prefers clocks to music, though. Lyrics and melodies are something everyone can understand, or at least appreciate. But the tiniest inner-workings of a system, so delicate and intricate that they could be fractured by the simplest change, that's something only she seems to truly understand. And she likes it that way.
But this is wrong. The tick-tocks are off key, there's no harmony. It almost physically hurts her to enter the room, and she wonders why someone so useless at fixing watches could possibly decide to dedicate their life to it.
"Can I help you with something, uh, Miss?"
The sheepishness of the voice is nothing in comparison to the person it comes from. He's tall, all limbs and combed, dark hair, but the first thing she notices is the sweater-vest.
It's argyle.
She resists the urge to cringe.
Claire's never been one of those girls, who make fun of anyone who doesn't meet their jock-cheerleader standards, not even before she discovered her power. But if she had known this guy when he was in high school, she wouldn't have even given him a second glance. Probably still wouldn't, if she'd passed him on the street any other day.
Had he not shown up on her very special little list, he would be utterly insignificant. Nothing.
As it were, he had one tiny, but important use. Really, he should feel honored that she bothered to give him her Homecoming Queen smile and bat her eyelashes innocently, instead of going straight for his scalp. If only someone had taught her not to play with her food...
"Yeah, hi, I'm Claire Bennet. I'm kinda here to have my watched fixed. I called..." She reaches into her pocket, considers just leaving the timepiece in there and skipping to part that matters. The part involving his death.
But the words seem to cause even more unease to appear on his face and she can't quite resist. He obviously has no idea what he's doing, and she wonders, not for the first time, how he had ended up with his own watch shop.
"Right, of course. Gabriel Gray," he says in greeting, "which you probably remember form the phone call. You, um, want me to fix it?" He nervously pulls on his sleeves without seeming to notice as she hands him the watch. She wonders if it's because he has absolutely no skill at his profession or because she's pretty and blonde and has breasts.
"Well, yeah. It says 'Timepiece Repair' on the sign. I want you to repair my timepiece."
It's not as if she needs someone to really help her, she could easily set all the clocks in the little shop right, but she'd thought she'd need some sort of disguise. She now realizes that she could have handed him a pineapple and he still wouldn't have any more of a clue of what he was doing. Apparently a bit of clumsy handling of their clocks and watches is enough to appease the average customer.
He opens up the back and fumbles with the tiny pieces, and it makes her kind of uncomfortable to see the delicate machinery so mishandled.
"Mr. Gray, can I ask you a question?"
"What?" He looks up. "Yes, yes of course."
"What are you doing?" She fixes him with a mocking gaze.
His hands shake a little. "What? I-I'm... this wheel here is, uh,-"
"Not the watch," she says, walking slowly closer to him, like a hawk circling it's prey. Gabriel doesn't move a muscle, yet he visibly shrinks. "Because there aren't enough excuses in the world to explain how what you're doing could possibly help. I mean, in general, with your life."
He looks ashamed, like somehow her blunt rudeness translates into it being his fault. Ah, self-pity. She loves it when they know how pathetic they are.
"First of all," she continues, "here you are, in a clock repair shop, when you obviously don't know the first thing about clocks or watches or any kind of timepiece. Second, you're going to part your hair there, really? To each his own, but come on." He's growing increasingly uncomfortable and she revels in how he squirms under her gaze. "And the rest, well," -she looks him up and down- "that just speaks for itself, doesn't it?"
"Miss Bennet, um, I don't quite know what you're getting at. I, um..."
"Oh, Gabriel, I think you know exactly what I'm getting at. This shell of a life you're living, I think you want to break out of it just as much as I want to break open your skull and take what's mine." Her eyes turn ferocious, hungry. He drops the watch now and backs up a little, she follows. The fact that he towers over her seems to be irrelevant as she corners him towards the wall. "You're insignificant. If I killed you right now, can you name one person who would miss you? Or even notice?"
He swallows audibly and his lips look like they want to move but no sound comes out.
"Well, Gabe?"
A deep, unsteady breath. "No, I- no."
He's quickly pushed back onto the wall against his will when she flicks her fingers a bit. Most people scream or try to run but he just stares at her, frozen and ashamed because he wants this. He wants to die. And who is she to refuse?
She raises her fingers and he finally says something else. "Wh-why are you doing this?"
She smirks, the feeling of sweet victory raining down on her before she's even got his power. This one was just too easy. And a little too fun.
"Because, Gabriel, you're broken. But don't worry," she tells him, drawing a line of blood across his forehead. "I can fix you."