(no subject)
Title: The Perfect Outfit
Rating: PG
Author: heroesfan86
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Warning: None.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Claire thinks that Sylar should wear a tutu when he goes out to kill. Sylar has a different view. Written for the crack_fic_101 community with the prompt 28. ...In A Tutu.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. :)
“Sylar, I know the perfect outfit for you to wear!” Claire exclaimed, opening the door to their house with her arms full of shopping bags. Sylar was lounging on the couch, the television turned on to Lifetime. It wasn’t just the channel for women - or, at least, that’s what Sylar told himself.
“I have clothes,” Sylar said. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Claire shopping for him but… he just didn’t like the things she got him sometimes. She seemed to think he was her little doll, and Sylar couldn’t hurt her without ten different people lined up to beat the shit out of him. He’d found that out the hard way.
“Yeah, but you know what clothes would be perfect to kill in?” Claire asked. She had come to terms with his killing, though she was far from approving. As long as he stayed away from the ones she loved, Claire didn’t care about what Sylar did on his own time.
“No,” Sylar said, shaking his head. Claire dropped one of the bags and pulled out a bright pink… tutu.
“They’ll die laughing when they see you in this,” Claire said. “It’s absolutely perfect to kill in.”
“You want me to kill… in a tutu,” Sylar said. Claire nodded, a huge smile on her face.
“They’ll die laughing,” Claire said, holding up the tutu. “It’ll help me sleep at night.”
“That makes one of us,” Sylar said, getting off of the couch to inspect the tutu. “So, you want me to go out to kill people… in a tutu?”
“Yep,” Claire said. “Don’t you like it?”
“In a tutu?” Sylar asked.
“Yes.”
“…In a tutu.”
“If you don’t like it then I can return it,” Claire said, somewhat offended that Sylar didn’t see the greatness of the outfit like she did. Sometimes he was such a guy.
“No, it’s fine, but… I’m a man,” Sylar said. Claire just sighed and stuffed the tutu back into the bag. Why did he never appreciate her gifts?
“I’ll just return it,” Claire said bitterly. “I’m sorry you didn’t like it.”
“I liked it but -”
“Then why won’t you wear it?”
“Because it’s not as frightening as my other clothes.”
“Yeah, I get freaked out all the time when I see a delivery man,” Claire said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and throwing the bags into the closet. She’d sort through them later.
“It’s better than somebody mistaking me a ballerina,” Sylar said.
“They wouldn’t,” Claire said. “First, you’re way too hairy. Second, you’re a little too fat to be a ballerina. They have less body fat than models do.”
“I’m never touching that thing,” Sylar said.
“You don’t have to,” Claire said. “I’m taking it back.”
“Good.”
“I still think it’s a good outfit.”
“I’m not going anywhere in a tutu.”
“But -”
“Not in a tutu.”
“You -”
“No.”
“Killing would be easier in a tutu.”
“I am not going to kill in a tutu.”
“More freedom?”
“I don’t want them to see everything about me.”
“They’re going to die anyway.”
“Claire, we are dropping this discussion now.”
“You’re not my father.”
“Claire, we’re not going to talk about this anymore,” Sylar said, shutting the door to the bathroom. “I will never wear a tutu.”
“Never say never,” Claire said. “I can be very persuasive.”
“Uh… no,” Sylar said. “I’m the one with the power of persuasion, not you.”
“Please?” Claire asked. “I bet Peter $300 that I could get you into a tutu.” Sure, it was a lie - a lame one, too - but maybe, just maybe, he'd consider it. She was just looking out for the last moments of somebody's life - she'd definitely want to die laughing.
“Oh, really?” Sylar asked. Claire smiled. That would get him into a tutu.
“Yeah,” Claire said.
“My answer is still no.”
“You suck.”
"And you're a liar."
Rating: PG
Author: heroesfan86
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Warning: None.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Claire thinks that Sylar should wear a tutu when he goes out to kill. Sylar has a different view. Written for the crack_fic_101 community with the prompt 28. ...In A Tutu.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. :)
“Sylar, I know the perfect outfit for you to wear!” Claire exclaimed, opening the door to their house with her arms full of shopping bags. Sylar was lounging on the couch, the television turned on to Lifetime. It wasn’t just the channel for women - or, at least, that’s what Sylar told himself.
“I have clothes,” Sylar said. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Claire shopping for him but… he just didn’t like the things she got him sometimes. She seemed to think he was her little doll, and Sylar couldn’t hurt her without ten different people lined up to beat the shit out of him. He’d found that out the hard way.
“Yeah, but you know what clothes would be perfect to kill in?” Claire asked. She had come to terms with his killing, though she was far from approving. As long as he stayed away from the ones she loved, Claire didn’t care about what Sylar did on his own time.
“No,” Sylar said, shaking his head. Claire dropped one of the bags and pulled out a bright pink… tutu.
“They’ll die laughing when they see you in this,” Claire said. “It’s absolutely perfect to kill in.”
“You want me to kill… in a tutu,” Sylar said. Claire nodded, a huge smile on her face.
“They’ll die laughing,” Claire said, holding up the tutu. “It’ll help me sleep at night.”
“That makes one of us,” Sylar said, getting off of the couch to inspect the tutu. “So, you want me to go out to kill people… in a tutu?”
“Yep,” Claire said. “Don’t you like it?”
“In a tutu?” Sylar asked.
“Yes.”
“…In a tutu.”
“If you don’t like it then I can return it,” Claire said, somewhat offended that Sylar didn’t see the greatness of the outfit like she did. Sometimes he was such a guy.
“No, it’s fine, but… I’m a man,” Sylar said. Claire just sighed and stuffed the tutu back into the bag. Why did he never appreciate her gifts?
“I’ll just return it,” Claire said bitterly. “I’m sorry you didn’t like it.”
“I liked it but -”
“Then why won’t you wear it?”
“Because it’s not as frightening as my other clothes.”
“Yeah, I get freaked out all the time when I see a delivery man,” Claire said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and throwing the bags into the closet. She’d sort through them later.
“It’s better than somebody mistaking me a ballerina,” Sylar said.
“They wouldn’t,” Claire said. “First, you’re way too hairy. Second, you’re a little too fat to be a ballerina. They have less body fat than models do.”
“I’m never touching that thing,” Sylar said.
“You don’t have to,” Claire said. “I’m taking it back.”
“Good.”
“I still think it’s a good outfit.”
“I’m not going anywhere in a tutu.”
“But -”
“Not in a tutu.”
“You -”
“No.”
“Killing would be easier in a tutu.”
“I am not going to kill in a tutu.”
“More freedom?”
“I don’t want them to see everything about me.”
“They’re going to die anyway.”
“Claire, we are dropping this discussion now.”
“You’re not my father.”
“Claire, we’re not going to talk about this anymore,” Sylar said, shutting the door to the bathroom. “I will never wear a tutu.”
“Never say never,” Claire said. “I can be very persuasive.”
“Uh… no,” Sylar said. “I’m the one with the power of persuasion, not you.”
“Please?” Claire asked. “I bet Peter $300 that I could get you into a tutu.” Sure, it was a lie - a lame one, too - but maybe, just maybe, he'd consider it. She was just looking out for the last moments of somebody's life - she'd definitely want to die laughing.
“Oh, really?” Sylar asked. Claire smiled. That would get him into a tutu.
“Yeah,” Claire said.
“My answer is still no.”
“You suck.”
"And you're a liar."