[identity profile] ms-miracle-grow.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hh_mirror
((Done with permission from the Heroes-muns. Spoilers for the whole first season.))



The door to the Sorting Room opened slowly, and a pretty blonde girl, about sixteen, poked her head around it. "Hello?"

Hitching her bag over her shoulder, Claire Bennet made her way inside, eyes wide as she took in the stone walls and suits of armor. "Wow. This is so just like the set to a movie." A kind of half-smile was on her face as she headed towards the table in the middle of the room. Setting her bag down, she sat, crossing her legs and glancing down at the application.

She'd come all the way to Scotland for a purpose. After the explosion, after Nathan (her bio dad, which was a concept she still couldn't wrap her brain around completely) and Peter (Uncle Peter? That just sounded weird) had disappeared - had died, probably - all Claire could think of was that she had to do something with the power she'd been given. Peter had saved her, then had died saving the world. He'd lived so brightly, so completely focused on his destiny, on what he'd been meant to do, and Claire wanted his death to mean something. She wanted her dad - her real dad, the man who had raised her - to not have taken a bullet for her for nothing. She wanted to help people.

Hey, even Nathan had come around in the end. The future wasn't set in stone. There was always hope.

Unfortunately, being a cheerleader in Odessa, TX, wasn't exactly the best background for a super hero. Unless saving people required a handstand or a human pyramid, she was going to need some help. Hopefully, she'd be able to get it here. Claire just had to remember that she was posing as a totally normal girl. Hey, she could keep cover. Not like she didn't have any experience in that.

"Um, hi," she said, not really sure what else to do. "I'm Claire Bennet. I'd like to apply for your school? Please?"

The quill jumped to life and Claire started back. At first she looked wildly around the room, heart pounding. She hadn't exactly had the best experiences with objects moving seemingly on their own. But when she didn't see anyone, Claire relaxed, looking down at the quill with a smile.

"Cool."

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Wrinkling her nose at the question, Claire looked around the room. "This is kind of an...unusual question, don't you think? I mean, for a school application. Sounds like a question that would be on some internet quiz or something." She flashed a tiny smile, then shrugged and laughed a little. "Um, I feel like I should say brie or something, so I sound mature and sophisticated." Again she laughed, looking ruefully at the application. "But I guess the truth would be the nachos that they have at football games at my school? Even though I so shouldn't eat them. Or toasted cheese sandwiches with a glass of orange juice. I don't know, I guess I'm kinda simple."

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

The smile on Claire's face faded slightly, and she looked up quickly. What kind of application was this? "Well, Barney has that annoying song," she forced a laugh, one shoulder rising and falling in a slight shrug.

But behind the friendly, if slightly bland, expression, Claire's mind was racing. Could they know? Or were they just trying to make her slip up? Or maybe this was just one of those personality things, like 'If you could only save one person from a burning building, who would it be?'. (Of course, Claire's answer to that would, in reality, be a lot different than most people's. Having the ability to heal yourself would do that.) In any case, Claire suddenly was a lot more wary of the application, and she proceeded with caution, smile frozen on her face, eyes darting around the room from time to time.

She had to be careful.


3. What time is it where you are?

Compared to the last question, this one was refreshingly normal. Taking a look at her watch, Claire said, "Well, I'm still set to Texas time. And..." she laughed. "God, I'm so bad at math. My watch says six oh-five. So whatever it would be to get it onto Scottish time."

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

A look of repulsion crossed her face. "You can't force yourself on people. That's just wrong, no matter who you are. And you shouldn't encourage it, either. People who think they're above all that, they need to be stopped. You should be able to feel safe around people, especially people you think you could care about. Harassing them, forcing yourself on them, that's disgusting."

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

"Um..." She paused, thinking. Then one corner of her mouth lifted in a sad little smile. "'Between a Rock and a Sponge'. It's...a play on the name of...of this guy I knew. He...he was a hero." Her smile was forced larger and Claire stuck out her chin, definitely not crying. "And hey, heroes get things named after them, right? I mean, a fictional bar isn't exactly a statue, but I think he'd laugh."

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

Holding up both of her hands, Claire laughed and shook her head, eyes going wide. "Oh, no. I kinda think I'm the last person you should ask about all that. I've got, like, no experience, and the little I do have kind of...ended bad." But she considered the question for a minute, a smile playing out on her mouth. "But I guess, if I had to, I'd just say it should be whoever he loved. I mean, really loved. Like, the person he trusted and wanted to spend time with and made him feel safe. And butterflies and all that. If you're going to do the whole 'til death do you part' thing, it should be with your best friend, right?"

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

"Um, I'm not exactly smart." Claire gave a self-deprecating laugh, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I totally barely passed Bio. But maybe you should just get a secretary or something? Or switch jobs? I guess I don't see paper as a huge problem. That's kind of what my dad does for a living." Claire paused, biting her lower lip, then smiled again. "He's the manager of a paper company." So far as anyone else in the world needed to know, that is.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

"Me? I'm...just a cheerleader. I mean, I don't think anyone is worthless, but I'm not exactly anything special." Sticking her hands in her pockets, Claire stared down at the paper for a minute, not really seeing anything. Or, rather, seeing something very different than a rough, wooden desk and a large piece of parchment. "I've known some really extraordinary people, though," she continued quietly. "I mean, really, really amazing. There was this one guy, he saved my life. Even though he didn't even know me. He died saving the world. And there were other people, they gave up everything... I think that's special." Raising her head again, Claire blinked, then smiled softly. "I'm just a girl."

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

Oh. Um. Digging in her bag, Claire brought out a bag of gummy worms, a few pens (pink, glittery ones), a disposable camera, and a few paperbacks she'd bought at the airport. "Sorry, that's pretty much all I have." Glancing around, she tucked a strand of hair behind her hear, eyes questioning. "So - did I pass?"

Date: 2007-09-03 09:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Falling silent and letting them chat, Peter just looked over to the side, slightly distracted. There was something about Claire wanting to help people that reminded him of himself months earlier - he still wanted to help people, of course, but the drive to save the world had faded, tucked in behind his own failure to do exactly do that.

But he'd help Claire with her mission. He'd do his best to ensure that she learned what she needed to while remaining absolutely safe, and if she ever needed to use those skills in the real world, he'd be there, too. A safety net, of sorts.

"Any time you want to come over is fine," Peter spoke up, well aware that he was completely changing the topic. "We've got a pretty weird sleeping schedule in our tent, but... any time, Claire."

Date: 2007-09-03 09:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Blinking, I looked over at him, an obvious question in my eyes. That hadn't been the conversation at all, and it wasn't like Peter to just change the subject for no reason. Claire looked a little taken aback, too. It was obvious she'd expected Peter to be more enthusiastic about her plans. And instead it felt very much like he was dismissing her.

Was it because I was there? Was he ashamed of me? Or did he not want his niece to talk with me?

Damn it, why didn't I have the mind reading skills?

"Pretty much we're up after noon," I explained with a smile to Claire. She and I exchanged a look, more her questioning what just happened and me apologizing in confusion. I was used to having to cover for Ivy when she got all vampy and odd, but doing it for Peter was a new feeling. "We're tent 31. It's pretty easy to find. Just look for the lot that has a garden around it." Grinning, I added, "In fact, I was planning on spending tomorrow lounging in front of the hot tub. Want to join me?"

Claire's face had fallen slightly somewhere in there but her smile, though still small and hesitant, brightened somewhat. "I'd like that. I didn't bring a bathing suit though."

"No problem, I've got an extra that'll probably fit you."

"Then that sounds awesome." Hopeful eyes were turned to Peter. Turn it, but this girl adored him. That was evident enough. "Will you be there?" Her entire expression was one of nervous anticipation. This was obviously someone who wanted to get to know her family.

So, not waiting for Peter to answer and possibly crush her or something, I spoke up, "Of course." I turned my eyes up to him as if to say 'Right?'. Because, seriously, Claire made even me want to give her puppies and sunshine. There's no way he was unaffected by that. Whatever was going through his brain I'd find out later.

Date: 2007-09-03 10:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter just faded out of the conversation again as soon as they started talking about waking up after noon and bathing suits. He really was happy that Claire was here, and even more so that Claire and Rachel were getting along - Claire would need friends here, people that could and would protect her.

There was just something about her wanting to save the world that... bothered him, in a way. Maybe it was because he'd tried to do it once, maybe because he didn't want Claire to shoulder any burdens. Probably because he knew that he was the reason she wanted to do this, and therefore the cause of anything bad that happened to her from here on out.

"Hmm?" Peter blinked, looking back over at Rachel and Claire. "Oh! Yeah, sure. I'll be there. Definitely." He shook his head with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I was off in my own thoughts. Thinking's hard, I have to use all my concentration," he teased. "I can cook dinner while you girls relax in the tub, it'll be good. We can be your home away from home, whenever you need to get away from the parents. We don't even try to enforce curfews, I promise."

Date: 2007-09-03 10:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
He was doing it again. Letting go of his hand, I slipped my arm around his waist instead, as if I could anchor him to the conversation. The way he talked about us - as if we were a home, a family, the two of us, instead of just two strangers in forced cohabitation - made my heart skip beats all over the place. I had to remind myself he didn't mean it before I could form any kind of thought.

Claire beat me to it, though. From the way the girl was biting her lower lip and picking at the sleeves of her shirt, it was apparent this had been on her mind for a little while. "Hey, Peter?" she said slowly. "I - I'm guessing you already know this, but...Sylar's here. I mean, he was here. With me."

I tightened my grip on Peter slightly as if to keep him from running off right then. "He's kind of a dick, isn't he?" I said mildly, dismissively. "Just ignore him. I think he's way more in love with the sound of his own voice than is healthy."

Claire just stared at me for a moment before a sly little grin worked its way across her mouth. "He's kind of insane," she said as if sharing a secret.

"More than kind of." I knew all about fear, about harboring terror about a person or a thing. Mostly, it was better to take the big bad and make them into something easier to wrap your brain around. Looking Claire straight in the eyes, I gave her a confident smile. "Don't worry about him. If he bothers you, just walk away from him. Drives him nuts. Your uncle and I, we can handle him if he needs to be. Mostly, though, it's better to just pretend he's not there."

Again Claire hesitated, then nodded, looking relieved. "Dinner sounds good," she told Peter. "And, God, curfews. I just know mom and dad are going to be crazy about that for a while." She gave him a small grin. "Thanks."

Date: 2007-09-03 10:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"What?" Peter cut in, quite abruptly snapping out of his own thoughts. "Sylar was here?" Jesus christ, he must have stepped out of the room for a bit when that asshole made his appearance. And while he technically knew that there was nothing permanent that Sylar could do to Claire, that didn't mean Peter was going be any less protective about this.

What Rachel had just said was good advice. Gently wrapping his hands around Claire's shoulders, Peter leaned down slightly so that he could look her in the eye. "Rachel's right," he agreed, brooking absolutely no argument about this. "If you see Sylar, you just walk away from him. And then you run. You run, and you come and get me, okay?"

Not that Peter would be able to beat off Sylar, but he'd at least be able to distract him long enough for Claire to get away. He wondered if there was a way to twist one of his powers to know when Claire was in danger. Taking his hands from Claire's shoulders, Peter turned his head slightly to look at Rachel, an idea clearly lurking behind his expression. Maybe she could make some kind of amulet to warn whenever Sylar was near Claire.

Thoughts about Sylar still rattling around his mind, Peter rubbed at his forehead - stupid spoons, he still couldn't eat with one - and grinned at Claire. "Your dad's a good guy. I don't know if he'd be okay with you crashing on our couch, but I'll try convince him." Now he was going to have to charm Claire's adoptive parents and reassure them that Claire was safe with him. That shouldn't be too hard, hopefully.

Date: 2007-09-03 10:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Yeah. Just him. Out of the two of us, who had walked away from Sylar - twice - still alive? ...Okay, so he'd snapped my neck last time. But still! I'd held my own and I could do it again. Eyes narrowing slightly, I added, "Or me," and then raised my eyebrows defiantly at Peter. Jerk. I was more than capable of taking care of myself.

Claire met Peter's eyes and gave him a little smile. "Hey, he's boring," she joked. "I'm not exactly looking to spend a lot of time in his company."

Heh. I knew I liked this kid.

Catching Peter's gaze, I tilted my head to the side for a second and then nodded. I knew what he was thinking and I'd make him up an amulet tonight. Of course, "It's good to run, Claire, but you also have to learn how to take care of yourself. There's not always going to be someplace to run to."

She looked at me. "Yeah. I know." Nothing more than that, but it made me actually reach out and squeeze her shoulder. Wow, and just like that, I was pretty much invested in her. Crap. Just what I needed.

Seeing Peter rub his forehead, I reached up and took that hand with my own, fingers twining with his. I didn't like to think about that. At all. "If your dad wants to come by and see the tent," I added, "he's more than welcome. I've got good protection up. It's probably one of the safest places on campus now." A little too late for Peter, but I didn't like thinking about that, either.

"I'm sure he will. After everything that happened, he's going to be a little protective." She didn't sound too upset about that, though, and I was hit with a huge wave of missing my own dad. "But he likes you," Claire said to Peter. "I'm sure he'll be fine. He knows I'm safe with you." Said with an unshakable faith.

Yeah, I was so stuck. Stupid cute kids.

Date: 2007-09-03 10:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Snorting quietly at Claire's joke, Peter just tipped an eyebrow back at Rachel. Oh, he knew she could take care of herself. And he even knew that, in a fight with Sylar, she'd be far more likely to take him down than Peter would. That didn't mean he had to recommend it, though.

"I don't blame him," he said dryly, wondering what having a protective father would even be like. The clear faith in Claire's voice brought another grin to Peter's face. He squeezed Rachel's hand before letting go, and moving forward to enfold Claire in a hug.

He was so glad that she was here. "You are safe with me," he assured. Peter pitched his voice low, earnest. "And you're still the only person that makes me feel like I'm not alone with this." It was true - Nathan was too busy denying their powers. Peter was never going to forget how amazing that it had felt the first time he'd met Claire, the simple reassurance that he wasn't the only one who could extraordinary things.

Date: 2007-09-03 11:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"We can have a Freak Club," Peter said lightly, raising his eyebrows at Claire. It was good that she'd come to embrace what she could do. Even though their powers were different, it still made him feel like he had company in this. "And nah, Rachel's a Witch." Peter beamed a grin at Rachel. "You should see some of the stuff she can do. "She makes me look really boring in comparison."

When Rachel announced that she was going to take off, the grin died slightly and turned into something more confused. He understood that Rachel was feeling awkward around family affection, but Peter didn't know what she wanted him to do. Did she want him to ask her to stay? Or just let her leave?

Who knew. Rachel was confusing at the best of times. And Peter had since been trying not to read her mind, ever since she fought Sylar.

"If you want," Peter replied slowly, wishing there was a way that he could keep Rachel happy while simultaneously keeping other people happy, too. It never seemed to work.

Date: 2007-09-03 11:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Rachel's questioning look was answered with an understanding smile. He hadn't wanted her to go; at least Claire had something. Maybe that was his problem, he was being too hesitant with Rachel. Then again, the times he had spoken his mind hadn't been reacted to so well.

Gah. He could figure out everything later.

"Pom-poms always kind of scared me, too," he confessed wryly. "Seriously, you shake them around, they're big and colorful, but what point do they actually serve?" He grinned down at Claire, shooting Rachel a look with barely concealed admiration. "And you should see some of the things Rachel can do. Seriously amazing. She can kick my ass and not even break a sweat."

Date: 2007-09-03 11:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
"My point exactly!" I pointed at Peter with a teasing grin. "They are just big balls of weird plastic-y stuff and they make me think that I'm being distracted from something far more malicious."

Claire rolled her eyes, biting back laughter. "They're for school spirit," she explained as if to two simple children. "Because nothing says school spirit like large colorful random shakey things."

Laughing, I nodded. "Oh, it's all so clear now."

"Well, it's really quite obvious."

"I don't know why I didn't see it before."

Claire smiled at me, laughing herself. "You were distracted by the pom-poms?" she suggested innocently.

Peter's look made me blush and I shook my head. "He's exaggerating. Seriously. It's just some magic. It's not anything really special. What he can do - what you can do - that's cool." A proud smile crossed my face. "You should see him fly. It's amazing. Though I have to say I think the invisibility is my favorite. Or the telekinesis. No lie, Claire, he's amazing to watch."

Claire gave them both a look and started to laugh, putting her arm up to cover her face as if she had to cough. "Yeah, I'd like to see you both," she managed, grin impossibly wide. "I'm sure you are pretty cool together."

Date: 2007-09-03 11:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter was going to argue the point and say that his powers weren't cool, but Rachel was smiling, and he didn't want to say something that might end that. To him, his powers were really just burrowed - it was more cool that Rachel's were her own and the range of things she could do.

"Yeah, well. I'm not a magician, so don't be counting on any special show of tricks," he rolled his eyes briefly. Even though, if Claire asked, he probably would make an exception and show her a few tricks just to watch her face light up in a smile. Peter was, and he knew this quite well, a sucker for doing anything that would make people smile.

Date: 2007-09-03 11:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter made a weird sound that might have been phonetically translated into 'nyargh!' when Claire shoved the pen into her arm. Pure instinctual response, even when he knew full well that the wound wouldn't last more than ten seconds.

"Jesus christ," Peter mumbled weakly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Do you have to do that on purpose?"

Obviously Rachel had realized that Claire was the reason he could heal, and he shot her an understanding smile at the sudden hug she gave Claire. Peter was just as thankful towards his niece for the ability, but it was nice to see that someone else was, too.

"Yeah, vampires," Peter shrugged casually, amused at the sudden direction the conversation had taken. "There's all kinds around here. Werewolves, witches, people who say they're aliens, talking animals. It gets interesting."

Date: 2007-09-03 12:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Peter looked slightly ill in response. He got that she had to test the limits of her powers, but so far he'd been a chicken about testing the cell regeneration. Trying to pick up trees with telekinesis was fine, but he'd only managed to get so far as scraping his knuckles along rough wood to test the healing. Nothing like jumping off oil rigs, Jesus.

Shifting his weight so that Rachel could lean against him without toppling over, Peter affectionately bumped his chin against her shoulder, burying his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's pretty insane," he agreed dryly. "You get used to it, though. Most of the people around here are pretty friendly, eventually you don't even care that you're talking to an angel, or a," demon, Peter wasn't going to follow through and say the logical opposite, "house elf, or whatever. It's cool."

Date: 2007-09-03 05:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
See, and here - right here, this - was the essence of what confused the hell out of me about Peter. Without thinking about it, we just kind of fell in together. All these physical forms of intimacy that seemed to mean nothing and yet were part of the reason I felt so secure and at home with him. A touch, the way our eyes met and I knew what he was trying to say, the way he would reach for me or I would reach for him. He responded, and most days I didn't feel awkward or out of place or like an outsider.

And yet he apparently wasn't attracted to me at all. None of the touches on his part appeared to be leading anywhere. Very rarely had I felt this degree of comfort with a person, to feel secure that I could reach out and they would reach back. And it had never happened with someone who didn't want to sleep with me. I had no context for what Peter and I were doing. The only conclusion I had for the touches was sex, and Peter didn't want that. Not with me.

He claimed there were feelings, there. But I could only quantify emotions by the actions they generated. Things like this, like what we were now, I understood them on a basic level. He wants me so he holds me, he enjoys me so he sleeps with me. I matter to him, so he kisses me. I hold his attention, so he is attracted to me. My relationships had failed because I hadn't been enough, I had stopped being an object of desire.

But if I had never started with Peter, then how was I supposed to keep him?

I had tilted my head slightly to rest my temple against Peter's, lost in my own thoughts. I came back when I felt a sudden tension in his body and I blinked, lost. Oh, crap.

Rewinding the conversation in my head, I picked up the last thing I'd heard. "Why tape it?" I asked Claire.

"Well," Claire considered the question, biting absently at her thumbnail. "At first it was for my family. My real family. I wanted to show them what I was, thinking that they could, I don't know, explain me or something. But then it became for me. Like, so I wouldn't forget, no matter what." She paused, then evidently decided that Peter and I could be let in to some thought. "There's this guy who works for my dad. Or, he did. Anyway, he can take your memories. Make you forget. One day, everyone in my life had just...forgotten stuff. Except me. He told me I'd need my memories. And I had to pretend and..." Claire trailed off, the frustration of that still evident in her face. "Anyway, I wanted to always have a way so that they couldn't take at least that from me, you know?"

That was...a lot. I sorted through in my mind, making a logical list of...

Oh, who was I kidding? "Your real family?" I blurted out. "I thought Nathan was your dad."

"He is. My bio-dad," she grimaced slightly. "I was raised by my adopted parents. I didn't think they would understand who I was. Turns out, my dad understood probably better than anyone."

Wow, that was a whole lotta family for one person. I didn't have any, not anymore. I couldn't imagine having two. I didn't know if I envied her so hard it ached somewhere in my chest or if I was relieved I wasn't in her shoes.

Two guesses to which one it really was.

"He made you forget?" I changed the subject, looking...well, terrified. "That's probably the creepiest thing I've ever heard. Someone rooting around in your mind, making you think or feel or remember or forget something you don't want to? That's scary." The words were lame, but I couldn't actually express how horrified that thought made me. My brain was my own, thank you very much, and I'd appreciate it if it and my body were left in peace.

Date: 2007-09-03 05:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
((Two of two. God help us all.))

"Yeah," Claire gave one of her sad little one shoulder shrugs. "It was..." A brief smile glimmered across her face. "Yeah. Creepy. And lonely. No one remembered, not even my best friend, Zach. I was totally alone. And I knew my dad had done it. And then I tried to find my real mom, but she turned out... I don't know. And my real dad was Nathan, but he just gave her a check and left and didn't want to see me. I thought I was going to find a family, but..."

"They all left." I said that with so much history behind the words it hurt.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking at me. I smiled a little and shrugged awkwardly.

"They always leave."

"Not always." She looked over my shoulder to Peter then back at me.

In spite of myself, one corner of my mouth curved up in what could only be described as a hopeful expression. "Not always," I agreed quietly.

Date: 2007-09-03 05:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
Huh, Peter hadn't known all of that. It was understandable, at least, why Claire had started video taping herself. He wondered who had taped it for her, who had been her partner in crime - it must have been good to have someone who believed in her, who was willing to ride the freak show with her and help her out. Peter hadn't really had that, amongst Nathan and Simone and Mohinder, who'd thought he was crazy - he felt thankful that Claire had at least one person to share it with.

Jesus, the idea of Mr Bennet erasing everyones memories, though. That was an uncomfortable thought. On one hand, Peter wondered if it might not make everything easier - but on the other, he couldn't imagine forgetting what he could do. Likely, he'd go through the exact same progression of discovering them as last time.

He'd gone quiet again as they were talking; it was good that Rachel was being willing to talk with Claire. Small steps to becoming more emotionally comfortable with other people. And thank you, finally, she was admitting that people didn't always leave. Not that Peter had much experience with this, between his dad and friends and his patients. Especially his patients; each of whom he'd loved and devoted himself to, even when they were fading and would eventually die. It wasn't leaving, it was just... going somewhere else.

"Yeah, not always," he commented, nudging Rachel with his shoulder and shooting her a look. Honestly, she should know right now that he was one of the hardest people in the world to get rid of. Once Peter formed attachments, he didn't let go of them easily.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Perhaps Claire shared a bit of her uncle's empathic ability or maybe she just caught the look on my face, but she suddenly gave me a knowing smile and said, "I'm going to go over there," she pointed to the opposite side of the room, "and talk to someone for a while. Um, you guys have fun. I'll be back in a bit." The she turned and walked away, barely hiding her laughter. Yeah, thanks, Claire.

I turned so that I was facing Peter, eyes full of emotions that I really wasn't built to express. So I let them show, the best I could do, and I hoped it was enough. My arms looped loosely around his neck and I leaned in. Our lips met in a kiss, and even that gentle touch sent fire racing down my spine, made me weak at the knees.

"I get it," I murmured against his lips. "I'm slow, not stupid, Petrelli."

Then I kissed him again, slowly, trying to express everything in actions rather than words that I knew would fall flat. That I didn't understand. That I'd wait for him to figure it out anyway. That I loved him. That I didn't expect anything.

That I thought I'd finally figured out he wasn't going anywhere. And that feeling would probably get washed away in a bout of insecurity in the future, but for now, I was secure. For me, that was pretty much the best I could hope for.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"You're not stupid or slow, I don't-" Peter started to protest, but was promptly cut off by Rachel leaning in for a second kiss. Christ, she had to stop doing that, or Peter was just going to do something stupid and get more involved - something he normally had never restricted himself upon, but ever since Simone and having to run away because he was radioactive, had become slightly more cautious about.

It didn't help that Rachel was a good kisser. Like, a really good kisser. He couldn't help but react and fall into that every single time.

Once they pulled away, Peter's mouth twisted in amusement. "Did we just scare my niece away?" He asked in a murmur.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
Laughing a little, I shook my head. "She's good." God, he'd responded. Like, really. And because of that I was feeling borderline confident for the first time pretty much ever.

Smiling at him, I pressed another kiss to his lips. "I like her." Why were we talking about Claire right now? "She's perceptive." That was said with a teasing smile as my fingers found their way into his hair. "You could take lessons!" I murmured, eyes dancing playfully.

Another kiss and, really, I was falling far too deeply into this. Mouth opening slightly under his, I let the taste of him fill my mouth, let the sound of his heart echo my own. This would be a really good time to be invisible.

Date: 2007-09-03 06:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] likeabadpenny.livejournal.com
"Shut up, I can too be perceptive," Peter mumbled, only to be promptly cut off and distracted again by Rachel kissing him once more.

This was confusing. And Peter didn't like confusing, no matter how much he loved sharing emotions. He liked emotions that he knew, that he could understand, relate to, and empathize with. Rachel was... confusing, but he liked her. He just didn't like that she was confusing. For a guy who prided himself on being able to understand people, it was a little disarming.

"Mm, okay, wait," he pulled back, a hand loosely cupping Rachel's jaw. "My niece is in the room, you're not supposed to be distracting me." His tone was lightly teasing, feigning reproving. "Not that this isn't good, but I have to be Uncle-like and tell her things before we leave. Like... no flirting with a guy that has thirty metal rings in his face, or something."

Date: 2007-09-03 07:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] racheltherunner.livejournal.com
"She's not going anywhere," I observed with a smile. But, after another quick kiss, I obliged, pulling back. "And don't knock the metal rings. They can be very attractive."

Where Peter was confused, I'd had a brief, precious moment of clarity. He was attracted to me. That one realization was enough to validate everything else we'd been through. If he was attracted to me, then I understood what was happening. And if I understood, I could move forward.

My hand reached up to cover his. "All right, Uncle conversation time," I teased. "But I'm letting you know, I want to continue this conversation later. It's up to you, and I won't start it, but I want to." My eyes searched his. "Okay?"

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