First ficlet challenge!
As requested by dealga and written while I was at work! Also written for heroes_contest I can multi task!
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Claire (Sylaire)
Genre: future fic, angst
Spoilers: season 2 up to Powerless
Word count: around the 600 mark
Summary: The first thing Sylar did when he got back his powers was find out where all the fun people were....
The first thing Sylar did when he got back his powers was find out where all the fun people were. Little Claire, hiding out in Costa Verde; the Petrelli brothers, doing a press conference in Texas (how cute) and dear Mohinder, living with the psychic cop and the kid in New York. When the cop wasn't taking the Petrelli jet to be body guard it seemed.
The second thing he did.... was to stay well away from all of them. The first thing dear Mohinder would do is inform Parkman of his return. Parkman would tell the Petrellis and once again Peter would rush to defend his cheerleader. So Sylar waited. He was a patient man and he could bide his time. He kept to the shadows, only hunting those too scared to be open with their abilities. The undeserving. Those who never wanted to be Heroes.
He watched, amused, as the elder Petrelli rose once again through the ranks of politics to become a significant figure, one who warned the world about the famed serial killer known only as Sylar. Except for the fact that they tracked down his old identity and had pictures from his old life on the news. His face twisted with distaste at the sight of the meek and mild geek, Gabriel Grey.
Years passed and eventually he was forgotten. New monsters scared the children at night and finally he felt free to stretch, seek out those he'd waited so patiently for.
Claire Baker, formerly Claire Butler, formerly Claire Bennet and who knew how many other aliases. Her hair was dark brown now and she was living in San Fransisco, away from the high profile Peterelli life. Sylar smiled darkly as he watched her, working in a bar, wearing anger and bitterness so beautifully. He followed her after she finished, walking confidently through the alley ways, her entire aura screaming to be left alone. She was a gorgeous woman and for a moment he wondered if he should leave her alive after all. She turned a corner and he sped up, reaching her side within seconds and telekinetically forcing her against the wall.
"Surprise," he laughed, waiting for her terror.
It never came. Instead she simply regarded him coolly, calmly reaching for a cigarette.
"Always knew you were still alive. You gonna let me light this?"
He took a step back, releasing her, before summoning a pyrokinetic power he'd stolen and offering her a flame. She leaned her head down with a small nod of thanks, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply.
"Thanks."
"Those will kill you you know," he smirked ironically. She mirrored the expression back at him.
"Won't take."
There was a silence for a while as she smoked and he watched.
"What do you want Sylar?" She finally asked.
"To kill you," he gave her a look as if it were obvious. He was surprised by how little he was surprised when she laughed.
"Some things never change."
"And others do," he countered.
"And others do," she agreed with a nod. "Some heroes turn out not to be so heroic after all, some fathers let you down and others die. Only this time they don't come back. Some things change so much you don't even recognise them any more."
She shifted her weight as she flicked some ash away and Sylar spied the gun she had under her coat. And he just knew she'd used it. Knew she was a killer just like him. He looked up and saw her watching him, a slight smile over her face. Without really knowing why he reached for her, kissing her harshly.
She tasted of cigarettes.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Claire (Sylaire)
Genre: future fic, angst
Spoilers: season 2 up to Powerless
Word count: around the 600 mark
Summary: The first thing Sylar did when he got back his powers was find out where all the fun people were....
The first thing Sylar did when he got back his powers was find out where all the fun people were. Little Claire, hiding out in Costa Verde; the Petrelli brothers, doing a press conference in Texas (how cute) and dear Mohinder, living with the psychic cop and the kid in New York. When the cop wasn't taking the Petrelli jet to be body guard it seemed.
The second thing he did.... was to stay well away from all of them. The first thing dear Mohinder would do is inform Parkman of his return. Parkman would tell the Petrellis and once again Peter would rush to defend his cheerleader. So Sylar waited. He was a patient man and he could bide his time. He kept to the shadows, only hunting those too scared to be open with their abilities. The undeserving. Those who never wanted to be Heroes.
He watched, amused, as the elder Petrelli rose once again through the ranks of politics to become a significant figure, one who warned the world about the famed serial killer known only as Sylar. Except for the fact that they tracked down his old identity and had pictures from his old life on the news. His face twisted with distaste at the sight of the meek and mild geek, Gabriel Grey.
Years passed and eventually he was forgotten. New monsters scared the children at night and finally he felt free to stretch, seek out those he'd waited so patiently for.
Claire Baker, formerly Claire Butler, formerly Claire Bennet and who knew how many other aliases. Her hair was dark brown now and she was living in San Fransisco, away from the high profile Peterelli life. Sylar smiled darkly as he watched her, working in a bar, wearing anger and bitterness so beautifully. He followed her after she finished, walking confidently through the alley ways, her entire aura screaming to be left alone. She was a gorgeous woman and for a moment he wondered if he should leave her alive after all. She turned a corner and he sped up, reaching her side within seconds and telekinetically forcing her against the wall.
"Surprise," he laughed, waiting for her terror.
It never came. Instead she simply regarded him coolly, calmly reaching for a cigarette.
"Always knew you were still alive. You gonna let me light this?"
He took a step back, releasing her, before summoning a pyrokinetic power he'd stolen and offering her a flame. She leaned her head down with a small nod of thanks, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply.
"Thanks."
"Those will kill you you know," he smirked ironically. She mirrored the expression back at him.
"Won't take."
There was a silence for a while as she smoked and he watched.
"What do you want Sylar?" She finally asked.
"To kill you," he gave her a look as if it were obvious. He was surprised by how little he was surprised when she laughed.
"Some things never change."
"And others do," he countered.
"And others do," she agreed with a nod. "Some heroes turn out not to be so heroic after all, some fathers let you down and others die. Only this time they don't come back. Some things change so much you don't even recognise them any more."
She shifted her weight as she flicked some ash away and Sylar spied the gun she had under her coat. And he just knew she'd used it. Knew she was a killer just like him. He looked up and saw her watching him, a slight smile over her face. Without really knowing why he reached for her, kissing her harshly.
She tasted of cigarettes.