(no subject)
Who: Claire, Sylar
When: Night of the 22nd
Where: their house
Rating: We'll go with PG-13
Warnings: Nothing yet, but this is Sylar we're talking about here.
Summary: It's Sylar's birthday. Claire's gotten him things. He better show up at home to get them.
Birthdays were always special things to Claire. Especially her own. But it was a long time away from it being March in purgatory, and instead of celebrating her turning eighteen as she would be about to if she were home, she was celebrating Sylar's twenty-sixth birthday. Which was just fine by her, really. Even with the re-arrival of B the night before, nothing was going to stop her from having a good night. They were going to eat cake, he was going to get his presents, and they were going to be happy.
Happy, happy, happy, happy.
After the previous night's argument over B, Claire had felt a little guilty, and had gone out of her way to make everything perfect for his birthday. She had spent every last penny that she had saved over the two month period she had been in town. A little cake was sitting on their bedside table, almost annoyingly bright and cheerful with its decorative frosting and colorful sprinkles. Sitting on the bed were two neatly wrapped presents, one a small square shape and the other a larger bundle. Inside the smaller of the boxes was a pocketwatch that she had managed to get in a store on the upper level, and in the larger bundle was several books she thought Sylar might enjoy. They were classics, or were supposed to be anyways, so she had picked them up in hopes that he liked reading. She assumed he was like most people and didn't mind it. A third present was sitting by the cake on the bedside table, a shiny dagger that she had picked up. It was more for her than him, but she figured that getting some kind of weapon she could protect herself with would also be a present to him. That, and he seemed to like the crazy gifts B got him. So he'd love recieving a weapon for his birthday. At least he'd better.
She had been planning on getting dressed up for him, only to be distracted by getting the house spotless and clean and all of his gifts in order. Plus there was the matter of having to go out and help Elle, which hadn't been the most fun she had ever taken part in. But Sparky was safe, and Claire was back home, and she was perfectly content to wander about in only her jean skirt and a tank top. She didn't figure it mattered much what she wore anyways, since it'd most likely end up taken off and on the floor by the end of the night.
At least, she hoped they'd be. Since part of her present to him was birthday sex and all. But after their arguing the night before, and the terrible mood they had both settled into after it, she wasn't sure if he'd even let her hug him. She was moping over that fact as she sat on the edge of their bed, painting her toenails with a bottle of pink polish that she had managed to find in her box of old belongings. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a lose ponytail, blonde curls falling out and down into her face. On the outside, she seemed to be perfectly content and relaxed, with not a care on the world. But on the inside, she was tense and stressed over whether or not she and Sylar would make it to the end of the day without an argument that would ruin all of her plans. Despite the tension running through her body, she at least looked relaxed, and the soft smile that graced her features would have fooled most anyone.
When: Night of the 22nd
Where: their house
Rating: We'll go with PG-13
Warnings: Nothing yet, but this is Sylar we're talking about here.
Summary: It's Sylar's birthday. Claire's gotten him things. He better show up at home to get them.
Birthdays were always special things to Claire. Especially her own. But it was a long time away from it being March in purgatory, and instead of celebrating her turning eighteen as she would be about to if she were home, she was celebrating Sylar's twenty-sixth birthday. Which was just fine by her, really. Even with the re-arrival of B the night before, nothing was going to stop her from having a good night. They were going to eat cake, he was going to get his presents, and they were going to be happy.
Happy, happy, happy, happy.
After the previous night's argument over B, Claire had felt a little guilty, and had gone out of her way to make everything perfect for his birthday. She had spent every last penny that she had saved over the two month period she had been in town. A little cake was sitting on their bedside table, almost annoyingly bright and cheerful with its decorative frosting and colorful sprinkles. Sitting on the bed were two neatly wrapped presents, one a small square shape and the other a larger bundle. Inside the smaller of the boxes was a pocketwatch that she had managed to get in a store on the upper level, and in the larger bundle was several books she thought Sylar might enjoy. They were classics, or were supposed to be anyways, so she had picked them up in hopes that he liked reading. She assumed he was like most people and didn't mind it. A third present was sitting by the cake on the bedside table, a shiny dagger that she had picked up. It was more for her than him, but she figured that getting some kind of weapon she could protect herself with would also be a present to him. That, and he seemed to like the crazy gifts B got him. So he'd love recieving a weapon for his birthday. At least he'd better.
She had been planning on getting dressed up for him, only to be distracted by getting the house spotless and clean and all of his gifts in order. Plus there was the matter of having to go out and help Elle, which hadn't been the most fun she had ever taken part in. But Sparky was safe, and Claire was back home, and she was perfectly content to wander about in only her jean skirt and a tank top. She didn't figure it mattered much what she wore anyways, since it'd most likely end up taken off and on the floor by the end of the night.
At least, she hoped they'd be. Since part of her present to him was birthday sex and all. But after their arguing the night before, and the terrible mood they had both settled into after it, she wasn't sure if he'd even let her hug him. She was moping over that fact as she sat on the edge of their bed, painting her toenails with a bottle of pink polish that she had managed to find in her box of old belongings. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a lose ponytail, blonde curls falling out and down into her face. On the outside, she seemed to be perfectly content and relaxed, with not a care on the world. But on the inside, she was tense and stressed over whether or not she and Sylar would make it to the end of the day without an argument that would ruin all of her plans. Despite the tension running through her body, she at least looked relaxed, and the soft smile that graced her features would have fooled most anyone.