Pairechallenge one-shot #7, Wandering Eyes--"Tranquility"
Title: Tranquility
Characters/Paring: Paire (canon)
Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)
Word Count: 550
Spoilers/Warnings: Up through 3x19 and speculation for future episodes but no real spoilers (in other words, it's just my fantasy :D). Also, there are hints of sexual relations though nothing sexual occurs during the fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, it belongs to Tim Kring.
Summary: His fingers trace her shoulder in a daze, dusting down her bare arm with the slightest of touches.
A.N: Written for pairechallenge one-shot challenge #7--"Wandering Eyes"... though this is more about wandering fingers (non-pervy wandering fingers) than wandering eyes though the wandering eyes are there. :D I won't lie, I kind of half-wrote two other little things but this idea struck me in the shower today (I'm not helping my case for the non-pervy argument, am I?) and I kind of love it. So yay. :D I hope you guys enjoy it too!
His fingers trace her shoulder in a daze, dusting down her bare arm with the slightest of touches. The tips tickle across the palm of her hand in wonder before pulling themselves away and Peter can’t help but smile softly at how perfect her skin is.
He doesn’t know what it is about her that enraptures him so much--he has never felt the need to trace every inch of a woman’s body with his hands and eyes before as strongly as he does now. He had always done it with his past girlfriends because he felt it was expected of him.
With Claire he just feels the urge to look, to feel, to memorize the textures of her always-flawless skin.
At first he believes it is her skin that entrances him, how it never has a mar or a scrape on its surface. It is amazing, he thinks, how one small former-cheerleader can hurl herself in front of bullets, dive headfirst out of four-story windows... and walk away without a scratch.
They smooth back her hair, fingers looping through the natural curls that have slowly been fighting to come back over the months as the other hand draws circles and lines on her side. He just wants to know her, to know that she’s okay. To know that she’s there.
He always stays up long after she has gone to sleep and just watches her, soaks her in and relishes in the fact that it’s him she’s with and no one else. It’s him she chooses to hide and run with, to fight and defend with--his companion, his friend, his family, his lover; his heroine as much as he is her hero.
About two months into hiding he decides it’s just her that he is hypnotized by. Her dainty figure doesn’t reveal it but he knows that she’s the strongest person he’s ever met. She has seen more in her eighteen years than he’s seen in his twenty-nine and she stares it all straight in the face with rarely a hint of fear or discouragement.
He often wonders how much better she would have handled the news if she had been the bomb instead.
His fingers splay across her stomach, tracing the lines of the lightly toned muscles in fascination before he presses his entire palm gently against her. It’s dangerous, what they’ve done--he knows it, but he doesn’t regret it for a second. He knows she doesn’t either.
When she tells him the news one night he instantly breaks out into the lopsided grin he hasn’t felt the urge to display in months. She smiles back at him instantly, relief washing over her face at his jubilant expression. He knows their lives are going to become much harder soon, that they’re going to have to be even more careful than they have been in the past.
But that night it becomes them that he’s engrossed by. His quasi-wife and their child slowly growing inside of her belly; his family and his source of hope. His eyes have never seen anything more beautiful.
His hands pull back, lips replacing them with the gentlest of kisses as he relishes in the moments of peace that he still doesn’t know what he did to deserve.
Characters/Paring: Paire (canon)
Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)
Word Count: 550
Spoilers/Warnings: Up through 3x19 and speculation for future episodes but no real spoilers (in other words, it's just my fantasy :D). Also, there are hints of sexual relations though nothing sexual occurs during the fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, it belongs to Tim Kring.
Summary: His fingers trace her shoulder in a daze, dusting down her bare arm with the slightest of touches.
A.N: Written for pairechallenge one-shot challenge #7--"Wandering Eyes"... though this is more about wandering fingers (non-pervy wandering fingers) than wandering eyes though the wandering eyes are there. :D I won't lie, I kind of half-wrote two other little things but this idea struck me in the shower today (I'm not helping my case for the non-pervy argument, am I?) and I kind of love it. So yay. :D I hope you guys enjoy it too!
His fingers trace her shoulder in a daze, dusting down her bare arm with the slightest of touches. The tips tickle across the palm of her hand in wonder before pulling themselves away and Peter can’t help but smile softly at how perfect her skin is.
He doesn’t know what it is about her that enraptures him so much--he has never felt the need to trace every inch of a woman’s body with his hands and eyes before as strongly as he does now. He had always done it with his past girlfriends because he felt it was expected of him.
With Claire he just feels the urge to look, to feel, to memorize the textures of her always-flawless skin.
At first he believes it is her skin that entrances him, how it never has a mar or a scrape on its surface. It is amazing, he thinks, how one small former-cheerleader can hurl herself in front of bullets, dive headfirst out of four-story windows... and walk away without a scratch.
They smooth back her hair, fingers looping through the natural curls that have slowly been fighting to come back over the months as the other hand draws circles and lines on her side. He just wants to know her, to know that she’s okay. To know that she’s there.
He always stays up long after she has gone to sleep and just watches her, soaks her in and relishes in the fact that it’s him she’s with and no one else. It’s him she chooses to hide and run with, to fight and defend with--his companion, his friend, his family, his lover; his heroine as much as he is her hero.
About two months into hiding he decides it’s just her that he is hypnotized by. Her dainty figure doesn’t reveal it but he knows that she’s the strongest person he’s ever met. She has seen more in her eighteen years than he’s seen in his twenty-nine and she stares it all straight in the face with rarely a hint of fear or discouragement.
He often wonders how much better she would have handled the news if she had been the bomb instead.
His fingers splay across her stomach, tracing the lines of the lightly toned muscles in fascination before he presses his entire palm gently against her. It’s dangerous, what they’ve done--he knows it, but he doesn’t regret it for a second. He knows she doesn’t either.
When she tells him the news one night he instantly breaks out into the lopsided grin he hasn’t felt the urge to display in months. She smiles back at him instantly, relief washing over her face at his jubilant expression. He knows their lives are going to become much harder soon, that they’re going to have to be even more careful than they have been in the past.
But that night it becomes them that he’s engrossed by. His quasi-wife and their child slowly growing inside of her belly; his family and his source of hope. His eyes have never seen anything more beautiful.
His hands pull back, lips replacing them with the gentlest of kisses as he relishes in the moments of peace that he still doesn’t know what he did to deserve.