And So Begins the Onslaught...
Title: She’s Miss America
Author: texaswatermelon
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Claire/Elle
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not I, said the horse
Archiving: P&P. Anyone else just ask.
Word Count: 382
A/N: Written for aphrodite_mine, who requested “Claire/Elle dance”. Inspired by the song “Girl Next Door” by Saving Jane. Enjoy :D
Elle hated Claire. She hated the fact that Claire was so beautiful; young, flawless, untouched by any blemish, not a scar on her body. This wasn’t Claire’s fault, of course. She couldn’t help that she was born with regenerative powers. But then again, it wasn’t Elle’s fault that she was a psychotic sociopath. Some things just couldn’t be avoided.
In reality, Elle didn’t really hate Claire as much as she thought. She was jealous. Jealous of the fact that Claire got to go to school, and have real friends and real teachers that weren’t paid and brainwashed by her father. Jealous that Claire got to have a boyfriend, and be on the cheerleading squad. Jealous that Claire got to sleep in a normal bedroom, on a normal bed instead of a blank, whitewashed prison cell and dirty cotton cot. Yes, she was jealous of these things, but truthfully Elle didn’t have a lot of experience with emotions, so she chalked this jealousy up to hate.
There was the slight possibility that the little pang in Elle’s chest was something akin to guilt as she watched Claire struggle against her bonds. This time tomorrow night, a gymnasium full of teachers and students would be looking for the captain of their cheer squad so that they could name her prom queen. Elle would know; she tortured the chairman of the committee until he agreed to rig the votes. But instead, Claire was getting an early introduction to her throne. She looked beautiful as ever in her dress, the one that Elle had picked out specially just for her. And as Claire looked up at her with hatred and disgust, Elle felt that pang of supposed guilt turn to one of excitement, an emotion that she knew well.
“Let me go, you crazy bitch,” Claire growled. Elle merely grinned and walked behind the chair that she was tied to, gently placing the little tiara on top of Claire’s head. Then she bent down to Claire’s ear.
“I can’t do that,” she whispered. Claire shivered as the warm breath hit her skin. By now, Elle had circled back around to Claire’s front, a strange glint in her eye. “We haven’t even danced yet.” Claire looked at the tiny blue sparks jumping between Elle’s fingers with apprehension.
x
TheTex