(Untitled)

[mimic_peter]

Date: Fall 2012
Characters: Peter Petrelli, Claire Bennet
Summary: Like predicted, Peter and Lance's meeting didn't go well and now Peter's blowing off some steam. And angsting. Set after this.
Status: Complete.
Private

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[mimic_peter]

Peter stilled and glared at the table for a long moment. He'd forgotten that he'd told her where he worked. And obviously if he hadn't come to her, then she was going to come to him.

He finished cleaning off the table, leaving the rag on it, and then he went behind the bar, pulling out a couple shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. Fuck the beer. He needed something that worked fast.

He filled the tiny glasses and nudged one at her before picking his up and throwing it back in one gulp.

"Everything alright with him?"

[mimic_peter]

"He let you go..." Peter repeated slowly. Yeah huh... and he didn't really like the sound of that at all. He poured them each another shot and downed his own and poured another one for himself and downed that one too before even beginning to think of something to say.

"And that means what? That you had to have him make your decision for you?"

[mimic_peter]

"Really," Peter said, disbelieving her entirely. He fiddled with his shot glass for a moment, itching for another one quite badly but that little glass just didn't hold enough. He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his lips, and taking a drink straight from the bottle. He'd just take it home with him and tell his boss to deduct the cost of it from his paycheck.

He set the bottle down with more force then was necessary. Then he left the bar and went back to wiping down the rest of the tables.

"You don't owe me anything, Claire," he said after a long silence.

[mimic_peter]

Peter picked up the bottle and placed it on the chair next to the table so he could continue with his job. He just needed to do something normal. Something that he was used to, that was a part of the life he'd made for himself before she'd come crashing into it. Or else he'd go crazy from all of it.

He cleaned off three more tables before he felt stable enough to talk to her again.

"There's six billion people on this planet and you couldn't find one to look at you like a person that wasn't him? Not one fucking person?" he asked, looking at her for a brief moment.

"God--anyone but him. I'd be okay with anyone but him but you had to go run straight to the one person besides Sylar that I--" he bit off the rest of his sentence, shaking his head. The craziness was coming back and he needed to calm down again.

He forced himself to take a couple deep breaths and after taking a drink from the tequila bottle, he went back to wiping down tables.

"You knew how I felt about him," he said, working on his fifth table. "You knew we hated

[mimic_peter]

"What if it'd been you?" Peter shot back.

"What if you had disappeared for four years and everyone thought you were dead and then you just came back out of fucking nowhere and I was with someone you hated?" he asked, cocking his head to the side curiously at her.

"Simone's a pretty girl. There's the thing where she has Isaac's twins but I like kids. I could be a good dad, don't you think? Or Jackie. I'm sure she's still pretty fuckable."

He paused a moment. "Or what about Rory? My college girlfriend. I told you about her. Still perfect, probably. Stupid of me to let her go."

Peter grabbed the bottle from her and debated throwing it for a moment before deciding that he needed the alcohol more then the wall did. "What then, Claire? Would you be understanding if I was sitting there and trying to convince you that it had to happen because I didn't think myself strong enough to fix myself so I had to find someone you hated to do it for me