Sparklin' Lights, Dangerous Livin’, Tumblin' Dice
A/N: Finally, the sequel to “ Merrily, Merrily” and " The Naughty Nurse and the Impatient Patient"! Sorry it took me so long. I hope you find it amusing :) Title and text for cut line come from Faith Hill’s “Let’s Go to Vegas”. Dedicated to
cheap_valentine and ladyanne525, both of whom encouraged me to write another fic in the “Merrily, Merrily” ‘verse.
As Noah fumbles with the child-proof cap on his last industrial-sized bottle of aspirin, he wonders if he could just trade in his entire team, give them away. Surely some up-and-coming hot shot - or Nathan - would want them, and he could be given a nice, sedate team of elderly heroes. People that wouldn’t cause him to get massive migraines. People that wouldn’t create mounds of paperwork taller than him. People that wouldn’t create chaos by just breathing. People he didn’t dream about shooting, just for fun. “Oh, damn it!” He curses when the lid won’t pop off.
Sylar rolls his eyes, and strides over to Bennet’s desk and melts the cap off. He waves his hand, and the tumbler of Noah’s best bourbon flies out of it’s hiding spot (and Noah has to wonder how the man had even known about the bottle of Beam) and onto the desk. The cap pops off, rolling off the smooth mahogany surface and onto the carpet below. He helps himself to a swallow, and then hands the bottle to Noah. “Better?”
Noah just glares at him before he remembers that he’s ignoring Sylar at the moment. He grabs the bottle and takes a large enough swig to wash down the three pills that he fishes out of the aspirin bottle. The bourbon has a nice kick and he immediately feels slightly better. “Now, does someone want to explain this to me, please?”
Elle opens her mouth, and the entire team yells at her. “No!”
“Does anyone who’s not Elle want to explain this?” Noah clarifies.
Matt, Mohinder, Peter, Niki, and Claire all exchange frantic glances, and Noah doesn’t even want to know what the hand gestures are all about. Claire obviously loses whatever battle had been going on, and starts to talk. “It’s your fault; you’re the one who sent Elle and me to Vegas.”
Peter hurriedly slaps his hand over her mouth. “Er… what she meant to say was that… um…”
“No, I know what she meant, Peter. I should have known better than to send any of you on that assignment, but I thought that of all people…” Noah breaks off to glare at his daughter, then starts again. “Of all people, that Claire would be the one level-headed enough to avoid trouble. Silly me. Now, is there anyone one here who didn’t manage to get arrested or change their marital status while in Vegas?”
Not a single hand is raised, no one speaks up, and suddenly everyone is fascinated with the carpet, refusing to meet his glare.
He grabs the bottle and swallows down another handful of pills, wondering exactly what horrible, evil thing he’d done in the past that had caused him to get saddled with this particular team.
- - - - - - - - - -
Two days earlier…
As soon as Elle and Claire walk into his office, Noah quickly shuts the door behind them. “Anyone follow you here?”
“Follow us?” Elle laughs. “Why would anyone follow us? Paranoid much?” While she waits for an answer, she amuses herself by bouncing a spark back and forth on her fingertips.
“What’s up, Dad? I don’t understand why you called us here in the middle of the night, and why you’re so jumpy.” Claire’s baffled by his odd behavior, and a bit miffed at being called away from her warm bed and warmer fiancé at three in the morning.
“It’s just… I have an assignment, just for the two of you, and well, I know how the rest of the team’s going to react.” Noah winces as he imagines just how incensed Peter and Sylar are going to be. “I wanted to make sure they didn’t find out until it’s too late.”
“Oooh.” Elle coos, realizing the potential this situation has. She hops up on his desk and crosses her legs, eyes lighting up. “It’s something the boys aren’t going to like. I automatically like it then. Dangerous or slutty?”
“Elle, he’s my father. He’s not going to send me into anything like that.” Claire responds, then takes a hard look at Noah. Her eyes narrow as she notices how he’s acting, and then she realizes what’s going on. “It’s the Vegas situation. You’re assigning us to that?” She already knows that this isn’t going to end well.
“Ha! I was right - dangerous and really slutty! Great job, Noah!” Elle crows at her sister, so happy about the situation that she temporarily loses control and sends out a shower of sparks. “When can we leave?”
“It’s not like that. It’s just… Niki’s requested some backup, and you two would fit in more with her than the boys. It’s not dangerous, and it’s not… er… risqué. She’s the dancer; you two are just going to be her makeup and hair stylists. Nothing more. Am I clear on that, Elle? Nothing more, just comb her hair and spray hairspray in her general direction, or whatever it is a hair stylist is supposed to do. Nothing dangerous, nothing suspicious, since I want you and Claire working surveillance. When it’s time, all three of you will be far away and the rest of Niki’s team will conduct the bust.”
“Whatever you say, Daddy-O.” Even as she says it, Elle winks at Claire. Yeah right, there’s no way she’s going to miss out on all the fun.
- - - - - - - - - -
Elle’s so worked up about the assignment that she’s practically vibrating as she bounces in her seat on the airplane racing them towards Vegas. Claire just wants to get some much needed sleep, but instead, Elle’s jittering is keeping her awake.
“Elle, stop it!” Claire finally snaps at her. “You’re making me motion sick.”
“Spoil-sport.” Elle retorts before sticking her tongue out at Claire, but then laughs. “But isn’t it great? You, me, Vegas, Noah’s credit card, no annoying Peter wagging his finger and bitching about ‘stop that’, ‘don’t do that’, ‘no fun for you girls,’ and no Sylar glaring at me. We don’t even have Matt and Mohinder trying to act like responsible adults and chaperones. Come on, Claire, it’s a paid vacation in paradise!”
“It’s work. It’s not supposed to be fun. We’re assisting another team, and there’s other things I’d much rather be doing.”
“Yeah, Sylar. We all know about that.” Elle mutters under her breath.
Claire doesn’t even bother responding, reaching down into her carry-on bag. Noah hadn’t even let them go back to their rooms to pack, giving each of them a bag he’d assembled for them. She hoped that he’d included ear-plugs. Finally, she finds the small plastic packet of squishy foam, and rips the package open, shoving the plugs into her ears, trying her best to ignore her sister.
Elle apparently doesn’t even notice, continuing to laugh and babble about how much fun they’re going to have.
- - - - - - - - - -
Claire blinks, momentarily stunned by the harsh sunlight and the heat. It’s like she’s just stuck her head in an oven cranked up to high, and she can’t understand why everyone else seems to like it so much. Elle bounces down the stairs to the tarmac, and spins around in a circle, arms spread wide. Claire wants to tell her that she’s acting like such an obvious tourist, and a bit like Hiro, but she keeps her mouth shut. Happy bouncy Elle is a welcome change from sarcastically bitchy Elle, and she really doesn’t want to have to deal with being electrocuted. Again.
“Isn’t it fabulous?” Elle calls out as she slips her sunglasses on, her mouth curling into a wide grin that makes her look even younger than Claire.
“Sure, yeah, great.” Claire bends down to roll the hem of her pants up, fashioning a make-shift pair of capris, praying that Noah had packed them shorts and skirts. Summer in Texas wasn’t even this bad. When she straightens up, she notices the woman walking towards them. “Is that Niki?”
Elle looks, and whistles. “That, or Vegas is now issuing every tourist their very own hooker.”
“It is Niki.” Claire confirms when the other woman gets closer, eyes widening as she takes in the miniscule dress and the six inch high heels.
“Stephanie, Marcella!” Niki calls out as she teeters towards them.
“Or not. Maybe the heat’s gotten to her.” Elle whispers at Claire.
Niki finally reaches them, and pulls them into a tight hug, whispering in their ears. “Code names, we’re being watched. Play along.” She pulls away. “Well, come on, girls! We need to get back to the club, we don’t have all day.” She turns and walks away, Claire and Elle following behind like baby ducklings.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Where are the girls?” Sylar snarls at Noah.
Noah holds his ground and calmly replies “Not here.”
Sylar hits the desk, and Peter’s a bit surprised that he doesn’t dent the wood. “We already knew that!”
“They’re on assignment. That’s all you need to know. They should be back in the next few days. It’s routine, Sylar.”
“It’s not routine for you to send them out at three a.m. without telling a soul! We didn’t even have a pre-mission meeting about it!” Sylar shouts back at Noah.
Noah catches the slip as soon as Sylar says it. “How did you know it was at three? I made sure that the team didn’t know until noon.”
Sylar hesitates, not wanting to admit that he’d been there when Claire had gotten the call and had kissed him goodbye with a soft “Dad’s calling, be back in a bit.” Noah still had an itchy trigger finger when it came to his relationship with Claire, and liked to pretend that they weren’t sleeping together. “Um…”
“Read the mind of the one of the techs that prepped the plane.” Peter calmly lies, covering for Sylar. “Promise it’s not dangerous?”
“Of course not?” Noah mentally curses when he realizes that it’s more of a question that a declarative statement. It shouldn’t be dangerous, not if everyone sticks to the plan.
“See, not dangerous. Let’s go, Sy. Sorry for wasting your time, Noah. We’ll be… um… training this afternoon. Good to stay busy while we wait.” Peter grabs Sylar and drags him from the room. As soon as the door shuts, Peter starts pulling Sylar down the hallway. “Run back to the apartments, pack a bag for you and one for me, I’m going to go get Matt and Mohinder. We need to get to Vegas as quickly as possible.”
“What?”
“Read his mind in there. He sent the girls to work on that Mafia operation out in Vegas. I’m thinking we need to go check on them.”
- - - - - - - - - -
“But… but… but…” Claire stutters as she stares at the costume in Niki’s hands. “I’m just… I thought you wanted me to do your hair?”
“Just put the damned thing on already.” Niki snarls at her, then sighs and apologizes. “Sorry. It’s just that this entire setup has been a complete clusterf… I mean, it’s a disaster. My team is made up of idiots. Now that I’ve got two competent people for backup, I want to go ahead and end it tonight. I’ve already applied for a transfer, so as soon as this is done, I’m free of the Vegas office. Please, Claire.”
“Yeah, Claire. Come on.” Elle adds to the peer pressure as she preens in front of the mirror, adjusting the feathers in her hair.
“But I’m just here for audio surveillance.” Claire makes one last attempt at not having to dress up like a showgirl. She wouldn’t mind if she’d just be dancing for Sylar, but she does not want to have to go out in public dressed like that. She’s not even sure if the costume would fit, it looks so… tiny.
“Sooner we do this, sooner we can go home, sooner you can be back with lover-boy.” Elle tries to bribe her.
“Lover boy?” Niki raises one eyebrow. “I knew I was missing all the important gossip, stranded out here. Who and when did this happen? More importantly, how did Noah take it?”
Elle readjusts her bodice, pulling it lower before applying some glitter lotion to draw attention to her cleavage. “Sylar, about a year ago, and Overprotective Daddy Bear shot him. Is this low cut enough? I think it could go lower.”
Niki just stares at Claire for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming, but still… brave girl. Noah shot him?”
“Oh, I should add that Noah doesn’t know that they’re engaged, though.” Elle smirks at her suddenly stunned sister. “You didn’t know that I knew that, didya? Hmm… I’ll make you a deal. Put on that costume and play along, and he won’t be hearing it from me.”
Claire grabs the costume without a word and stomps into the dressing room.
- - - - - - - - - -
“They’re not here.” Matt confirms as they drive by yet another hotel on the Strip. “I can’t pick up a single thought from then, and it’s normally easy to find Elle. She tends to think louder than anyone I’ve ever met. I still think we ought to call Molly for help.”
“No, I can do it.” Peter responds as he closes his eyes and focuses on their missing teammates. “They’re around here somewhere. Somewhere close.” He stabs at the map in front of him again, glaring at the poorly drawn rendition of the Strip. “Maybe if someone had bought a better map this wouldn’t be so difficult…”
“Maybe if someone had control of his powers and wasn’t a useless leech, we wouldn’t need a better map.” Sylar retorts, not even looking at Peter as he struggles to merge in the heavy traffic. “Besides, it’s the only one I could find in that awful gift shop.”
“It’s that strip club over there.” Mohinder calls out from the back of the car. “But since none of you are listening to me, please, feel free to ignore me some more.”
“Wait, I’m picking up something from Elle. Something’s… glittery? Well, at least it doesn’t sound like they’re in immediate danger. When was the last time glitter was hazardous?” Matt seems confused. “But Peter’s right, they’re close.”
“And again, I direct you towards the club.” Mohinder sighs, wondering how much longer they were going to drive in circles around the block, wasting precious time.
“Ooh! I’m picking up Claire now. Wow, she is not happy about something.” Matt comments. “Feathers? What are they involved in?”
Peter eyes the map again, and takes a guess. “Maybe they’re in the Mirage. They have a lot of animals there, so maybe they have a bird exhibit?”
The dumb guess is the last straw for the ignored geneticist. “You’re all idiots!” Mohinder comments as he leans over Sylar’s shoulder, reaching into the front seat and yanking the steering wheel hard to the right. Sylar fights to blow the horn and work the brake and gas as the car suddenly jerks across three lanes of traffic to spin into the parking lot of a strip club.
“What the fuck?” Sylar bellows at his backseat driver as soon as they come to a stop.
“I’ve been telling you for the last twenty minutes that they’re here, but no one would listen.” Mohinder explains as he calmly gets out of the car, ignoring the blaring horns and obscene hand gestures from the people caught up in the wreck he’d caused with his actions.
“And you know this how?” Peter challenges him. “Matt and I were the ones with the powers, and we couldn’t find them.”
“Simple.” Mohinder yells back at them as he walks away from the car, headed towards the front door of the club, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “Just look at the marquee. It’s nine o’clock.”
The other three turn around to see the giant billboard advertising “Vegas’s hottest girls! Live every night at 9, 11, 1, and 3!”, printed in giant bold letters right next to an eight-foot high blow-up of Niki’s face.
“Oh.” Comprehension dawns on Peter. “Yeah, I can see how he figured it out. Shall we?”
- - - - - - - - - -
Back in Bennet’s office, after the dust settles:
“Wait, wait, wait.” Noah interrupts. “There’s nothing in the mission report about you four participating in the bust. That was just Niki, Elle, and Claire.”
“Yeah, because by the time we paid the entry fee and elbowed our way through the hoards of the horny and drunk, all the fun was over. The cops weren’t too far behind us.” Matt picks up the narrative. “That’s when the trouble started, when the cops showed up.”
“When it started?” Sylar laughs. “No, the trouble started when genius here,” he gestures at Noah, “decided to send Elle to Vegas.”
“Not my fault!” Elle gives him a quick shock. “It’s so my fault! I didn’t even get arrested, like Claire did!”
“Yeah, because you shocked the poor rookie who tried to cuff you and then ran out the back door, Peter and Mohinder in tow.” Matt gives her an ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ look, and for once, she acts ashamed.
“I’m still confused about why Claire and Niki were arrested.” Noah interjects before Elle and Matt can get into another argument.
“Um…” Claire looks everywhere but at her father. “So we might have made a little mistake.”
“Not our fault.” Niki adds. “My team had been following these guys for weeks, and we’d been coordinating with the FBI. No one told us that the local vice squad was working the same bust too. We might have accidentally jumped the undercover officers. In our favor, though,” she argues, “we got the actual mobsters too, but the cops didn’t give us credit for that.”
“Really, it’s Elle’s fault.” Claire argues. “Things were fine until she kneed that one detective after he’d identified himself and his team. They were going to let us go until then.”
“Oh, really?” Noah glares at her. “And the arrest report that claims that you slapped a cop was a complete fabrication?”
Claire says nothing, not wanting to tell her father that particular story while Sylar was within earshot. She understood - at least, understands now - that he hadn’t meant to accidentally grope her while patting her down for hidden weapons, but at the time, she’d reacted without thinking, and she knows that Sylar would do the same as soon as he heard the full story, only much more violently than she had.
“So what happened next?”
- - - - - - - - - -
“I’m here to post bail.” Sylar announces at the corner, glaring at the diminutive clerk behind the desk. “Bennet. Claire Bennet. She was brought in a few minutes ago.”
The clerk doesn’t even look at him, just taps at the computer keyboard. “Bennet, did you say? How do you spell that?”
“B-e-n…” Sylar starts to spell, but the clerk interrupts him.
“Never mind. We don’t have anyone with a first name of Claire anyhow. Sure she was brought here?”
“I was there when she was arrested. Cops said to come here and post bail for her.”
“Oh. Is that the one with the strippers at the club?” The clerk finally looks up at him. “Yeah, something strange happened with that one. Detective Jameson radioed it in about ten minutes ago, saying that charges weren’t going to be pressed and that he was going to release her and the other woman.”
“Where are they then?” Matt asks, exchanging looks with Sylar, both men knowing that the Company must have intervened.
The clerk just shrugs. “No clue. Do you want me to radio the detective back?”
“Nah.” Sylar’s already walking towards the door, pulling Matt behind him. “We don’t need your help. Parkman, call Molly.”
- - - - - - - - - -
After a quick trip to Niki’s house to wash off the garish makeup and to put on suitable clothing, Niki and Claire stride into the front entrance of the hotel. On their way to the reservations desk, Niki suddenly grabs Claire’s arm and pulls her into one of the small bars located on the edge of the casino.
“Niki, this is a really bad idea.” Claire tries to convince the older woman not to go to the hotel bar. “I know my dad booked a room here for Elle and me, let’s just go check in and wait on the rest of the team to show up here. I wish we had brought our cell phones, I hate not being able to call and check in with everyone.”
“Claire, it’s just one drink, and we’re in clear view of the desk. If anyone thinks to check the hotel, they’re going to have to stop and ask what room we’re in. We’ll see them come in.” She motions for the cocktail waitress. “Coke and rum for me, and… Claire, what do you want?”
“Coke. No alcohol. Just Coke.” Claire firmly states. “Fine, I’ll wait here with you, but I want it to go on the record that this is a bad idea.”
An hour later…
“I would have sworn that Elle or Sylar would be here by now.” Claire frowns as she stares at her soda, watching beads of condensation slowly drip down the side, leaving a watery mess on the table. She’s using the amount of water as a measure of time, and every drop is another minute that she can’t believe has passed.
“Well, you did tell Sylar and Matt to get us out of jail; maybe they’re still there and haven’t been told that we were released.” Niki reasons as she sips her margarita, concerned about how Claire’s frown deepens. “Now, don’t worry, you know they can all take care of themselves. Sylar’s fine, I’m sure of it, and I’m not sure if a nuclear holocaust would be enough to take down Elle. Don’t worry.”
“It’s just that…” Claire can’t finish her sentence, not sure what she wants to say, not sure what to say. “Hey, at least Mohinder and Peter are with Elle. It’s not that she’ll get into too much trouble with those two around. I’m just worried about Sylar in the police station, that seems like it should be a disaster in the making.”
“You know, I still haven’t heard the story about how you two got together - and what’s this about being engaged? Want to talk about it? It’ll be a good way of passing the time.” Niki grins at her, encouraging her to talk, wanting to hear all the news she’s missed.
As Claire smiles and starts to gossip, neither woman notices Matt and Sylar wander into the bar. Matt takes a step towards them, but Sylar just grasps his shoulder and leads him away, hearing the conversation and realizing that Claire needed to talk to someone, since she didn’t really have anyone back in Odessa to have girl-talk with. “Let them be for a bit, Parkman. You go over there now, you’re going to get sucked into a gossip session.”
Matt shudders, and lets Sylar direct him towards the center bar area.
- - - - - - - - - -
Niki and Claire are so involved in their conversation that when the waitress suddenly shows up, carrying two drinks on her tray, it’s a surprise that neither woman is expecting. “Compliments of the gentlemen at the bar.” She jerks her head towards the left, indicating the two.
Without looking, Niki puts the drinks back on the tray. “Tell them we’re not interested.” She says firmly.
“You might not want to do that,” the waitress warns her, “since they’re really cute. Especially the taller of the two - dark, intense, really hot.”
Something about the description makes Claire turn towards the bar, and her eyes light up as soon as she spots them. “Sylar!” She rushes towards him at the same time he gets up and walks towards their table.
Niki rolls her eyes as she watches them embrace in the middle of the bar, then tries to remember if she and D.L. had ever been so nauseatingly sweet. Matt takes the chair next to her, and watches her watching the couple. “You know, I don’t think Janice and I ever had that sort of connection.”
“And that might be why you’re divorced now, Matty.” Niki comments, but without any malice. “D.L. and I weren’t like that either, if it helps.”
“It makes me wonder why it took us all so long to see why they were involved.” He spots the untouched drink on the table. “Not going to drink it? I made sure to get you your favorite.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want to accept a drink if I didn’t know who it was coming from.” She slowly runs her finger along the rim of the drink. “Let me return the favor.”
“If you must.”
- - - - - - - - - -
Back in Bennet’s office:
“So, who’s to blame for my daughter getting drunk and marrying this… this…” Noah can’t think of a suitable word to call Sylar.
Everyone exchanges puzzled glances, especially Sylar and Claire. It’s the first they’ve heard anything about being married.
“Drunk? Marrying? Dad, what on earth are you talking about?” Claire finally asks.
“Yeah, really. I mean, I thought you were mad because of me.” Elle adds. “I mean, I had no clue that you could actually marry two guys at once there - legally even. And the Star Trek chapel is the coolest thing ever.”
“What?” Claire, Sylar, Niki, and Matt all ask at the same time, watching as Elle shrugs, Peter blushes and won’t meet their eyes, and Mohinder suddenly finds the ceiling fascinating.
“Oh, we’ll talk about your little indiscretion later, Elle, trust me, but are you saying that you didn’t get married?” Noah turns his attention to his daughter and his may-or-may-not-be son-in-law.
“No. Absolutely not. Where did you get that crazy idea?” Sylar laughs. “There’s no way in hell I’d elope with Claire in Vegas. You’d kill me, then Sandra would find some way of resurrecting me and killing me again for depriving her of the chance to play wedding planner. No, when we do get married, it’s going to be a big event, with a floofy white dress, Sandra crying about how her baby’s growing up, and Claire forcing Lyle, Parkman, St. Peter, Mohinder, and me into monkey suits.”
Noah chooses to ignore the fact that Sylar had said “when”, not “if”, and does his best to ignore the sudden throbbing in his head at the thought of his Claire-bear marrying the man. “But why were you spotted coming out of the hotel wedding chapel?”
“Oh.” Claire whispers, suddenly not meeting Noah’s glare. “Um…” She quickly glances at Niki, then doesn’t say another word.
Noah pieces the puzzle together easily then. “Oh. Congratulations then, I guess. When I mentioned getting arrested or getting married, I thought you hadn’t answered because of the thing with the police, Niki.”
“Well, there’s that too.” Niki grins, then laughs at Peter’s, Elle’s, and Mohinder’s incredulous looks. “Oh, please. You all can get wasted and married, and Matty and I can’t?”
“Oh, we weren’t dr… mmmrph!” Peter quickly slaps a hand over Elle’s mouth.
Ignoring Elle, as usual, Noah continues on as if she hadn’t spoken. “So, we’ve already cleared everything with the cops there, and Niki’s paperwork has been officially approved and she’s transferred here as of this morning. Now, who’s going to help me with the paperwork for the annulments?”
“Me!” Mohinder quickly volunteers. “The sooner the better, please.”
“Oh, baby, don’t be that way.” Elle sends a spark in his direction, and he yelps.
“Please, Noah, expedite that one first. Please.” Mohinder begs, and Sylar has to bite his lip to keep from grinning at how desperate the good Dr. Suresh seems.
“We’re not getting it annulled.” Matt abruptly announces, distracting everyone from Elle and Mohinder’s spat. “Sylar already tried to make us, but it’s not happening.”
“Are you sure about this?” Noah asks, and Matt and Niki both nod. “Well, then, that just leaves Peter and Elle, unless… you two didn’t…” He gestures at Mohinder and Peter.
“No, nothing like that.” Peter takes a deep breath. “And I don’t want an annulment either.”
“Yeah, like we could get one.” Elle giggles. “Not after we…” She whispers something in Peter’s ear, and he blushes bright red again like he had earlier.
“Oh, that’s just obscene.” Sylar grumbles. “Remember I can hear everything you say.”
Elle smirks at him. “Like you and Claire haven’t. I know better. What about that night with the cool whip, the raspberry jam, and the…”
“Meeting over.” Noah hastily interrupts before he hears something he can never unhear. “Get out. Mohinder, come back later today, we’ll get the paperwork started. Elle, Peter, Matt, Niki - I need to talk to the board, but you have to know that we’ll be reassigning partners. I’ll let you know once I get instructions. Claire, could you stay behind?”
As the room clears, Sylar doesn’t move. A minute later, it’s just the Bennets and him in the room.
“Sylar, please, I’d like a minute with my daughter.” Noah requests.
“I’ve got something to say first.”
“Not now, Sylar.” Claire begs him not to say anything.
“If not now, then when, Claire? No, we’ve been hiding long enough.” He turns to face Noah. “I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s said yes, but I want your blessing. We’re getting married with or without it, but I’d prefer to have it.”
Noah hesitates. “I, um, I need to talk this over with Sandra.” He hates how it makes him sound like he’s hiding behind his wife’s skirts, but he doesn’t have any other option.
“That’s fine. I just wanted to let you know. I thought that you might appreciate that I didn’t marry her in Vegas, even though she suggested it, but I understand if you don’t approve.” Sylar doesn’t blink as he confesses the fact that they had considered eloping, but Claire winces.
“We all need to discuss this with Sandra. Why don’t you two come over for dinner tonight?” Noah suggests. “I’d say yes now, but you know your mom’s going to go ballistic if she thinks I’m making decisions without her. Now, unless you’re going to help with the paperwork, please leave.”
“Don’t work too hard, Dad. Besides, it’s kinda funny trying to watch Mohinder run away from Elle.” Claire grins. “Did you see how fast he ran out of here?”
Noah laughs. “I might lose the paperwork on that one for a few days, just to make him sweat. I still can’t figure out how Elle managed to talk him into it. Now, you two run on, I’ll see you at six.”
- - - - - - - - - -
As soon as they’re out of his office, Claire lets out a breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding. “Well that went better than expected.”
“Of course it did.” Sylar wraps his arm around her waist as they walk down the corridor. “That’s because I have perfect timing. I’ve been waiting for someone else to screw up so that I could tell him and have him not kill me.”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I thought you were going to tell him our other news.”
“Still not suicidal, babydoll, and not stupid either. I’m going to let you tell him. You might want to tell Sandra first, or break it at supper tonight. He won’t go too ballistic that way, I think.”
“Or I could just not tell him and let him figure it out on his own?” Claire hopefully asks. “He’s smart; he’ll figure it out eventually.”
“He’s so far in denial that he’ll still be denying it when the kid turns ten.”
Claire stops in the hallway. “I have an idea. Any clue where Elle and Peter wandered off to?”
“No, and I’m not going looking for them either. Why?”
“Interference. He’s not going to bat an eye over ‘hey dad, we need to get married soon - how’s this weekend for a shotgun wedding?’ if Elle’s there. You know how she is. She’s the perfect distraction.”
- - - - - - - - - -
It had been a long day, and at times he thought that his head was going to explode from the pain of the headache, but it was over. All the paperwork had been completed, the board members had been contacted about the impromptu marriages and the need to reassign partners, he’d cleared everything with the FBI and the LVMPD about the bust, and had even managed to sit through the meeting with the other managers without shooting anyone. The headache had disappeared within five minutes of leaving work.
He walks in the door, and makes his way to the kitchen.
“That you, Noah?” Sandra asks as he walks into the room, not turning away from the stove. “You have a good day?”
“Rough day, bad headache. Oh, I invited Claire and Sylar to supper, so I hope you made extra.” He kisses her cheek.
“Oh, I know. Claire called earlier to let me know, since she knows that you’d forget to tell me to set four extra plates.”
“Four?” Noah wonders if Lyle and his girlfriend are coming to dinner too.
“Yes, she said that Elle and Peter had big news and we’re having a celebratory dinner.” She turns to face him. “Now, do you know what this is all about?”
“Elle!??!?” The headache’s suddenly back, worse than before. He wonders if it’s possible that he’s having a stroke. “Elle’s coming to dinner, with Peter? Elle?”
Sandra sometimes wondered about her husband. It just wasn’t normal for a man to start banging his head against a kitchen table, muttering “Elle” over and over.