
| The Name of the Game
Author: Aurora Ciel People with abilities have been forced into hiding to escape being sent to prison camps. When Claire gets taken to one, its up to Peter and Hiro to save her. As they join with others to take down the government, sparks will fly. Peter/Claire FYG universe
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Peter P. & Claire B. - Chapters: 9 - Words: 32,656 - Reviews: 80 - Favs: 27 - Follows: 48 - Updated: 11-16-08 - Published: 10-22-08 - id: 4611696
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A/N: So a few people mentioned that Peter's confession reminded them of the movie 10 Things I Hate About You. That was unintentional, but now that I think about it, I can see why you'd think that I guess. Good movie, if you haven't seen it, I definitely recommend it (RIP Heath).
Anyway, thank you for all the great reviews! I love hearing from you guys. Please keep it up!!
Note: I've taken a few liberties regarding Claire's regeneration abilities. I have no idea of the truth behind these ideas; they are merely my interpretation of the way it works for her. So please do not hold me responsible for any falsehood behind my explanations.
H E R O E S
The Name of the Game
"Chapter Nine: Moving Forward"
Claire smiled softly as she played with Peter's hand, her head resting on his bare chest as he tucked an arm around her. She ran her fingers gently along his long, thin ones, then traced the lines on the palm of his hand. His hand was so big, it made hers look almost like a child's. Claire flattened her palm against his and Peter bent his fingers so the tips of them closed over her own.
Silently Peter grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his face and pressing his lips against her palm. Claire let her hand drop so it rested against his shoulder as they rested in contented silence.
It was then that her eyes caught something they hadn't noticed before. There was a large photograph on the dresser against the wall next to the bed. It had a layer of dust over the glass, slightly blurring the image, but Claire recognized the two figures in the photo instantly.
"Peter, are we in your old apartment?"
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I was wondering when you would notice that." He shifted so he was laying down next to her on the pillow, their faces just inches apart as they stared into each other's eyes.
"I didn't even know it was still here, or intact for that matter. It just happened to be the first place I thought of when I teleported us, and it seemed suitable enough," he explained. Their voices were no more than a whisper, as if they were afraid to break the peaceful quiet. "There's no electricity or heating, but…we've seemed to have managed to keep ourselves warm enough so far."
Claire grinned at the mischievous look in his eyes, moving forward so she could press her lips against his. Peter reached down to take hold of her hips, pulling her body against his as he shifted onto his back so she was laying on top of him. He buried his hands into her hair as their mouths moved gently together.
They'd been like this for hours—sleeping ten minutes here, a half hour there, then waking up and exploring the other's body into the wee hours of the morning. Their pace slowed down eventually, not losing passion or eagerness per se, but simply contenting themselves with taking the time to get to know the other.
Exactly how long they'd been there Claire couldn't say, but she knew it was probably early morning. She'd touched, kissed and tasted nearly every place on Peter's body, and he hers, yet she still wasn't satisfied—if given the opportunity, she would stay like this for the rest of her life.
It was amazing how simple life suddenly seemed, anything and everything in Claire Bennet's world now revolved around Peter Petrelli; he could keep her safe, happy, wanted, sane, and most importantly, loved.
Peter slowly pulled back from their kiss, pecking her lips once, twice, three times before nuzzling his nose against hers. Claire leaned her head so their foreheads were pressed together as she gazed down into those never-ending pools of hazel. She shifted her leg so she sat fully astride him, not necessarily intending to do anything just yet, but content to be as physically close to him as possible.
The frown that suddenly appeared on Peter's face threw her off guard. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly as she rose up onto her elbows.
He glanced down at the plump cleavage formed by her pressing against her arms briefly before looking back up at her face. "I just…we haven't used protection at all. Should we—"
Claire gave a small smile and shook her head, "We don't need to worry about that, Peter."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his hands rested on her hips, his thumbs stroking her soft skin. "What do you mean? There's no way you could have been on birth control while you were in the testing facility…"
Her gaze dropped to his collar bone as she stroked it, letting her hair fall to form a golden curtain around her face for her to hide behind as she whispered, "I'm not on the pill. I don't need to be."
Peter's long fingers brushed her hair back behind her ears, trying to make her meet his gaze, "What do you mean, Claire?"
"I had unprotected sex with my ex-fiancé for nearly three years, and never once did I get pregnant." She bit her lip, slowly raising her eyes to gauge his reaction. She was surprised to see that he mostly looked confused.
"So, you can't get pregnant?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm not sure if I'm infertile or if it's the healing…maybe my body sees the fertilized egg as something to 'fix'. I don't know how it works, and the person I could've asked is now trying to hunt me down."
"Suresh."
She nodded, reaching up to comb her fingers through Peter's dark hair, brushing it away from his face. She ran her thumbs over his thick eyebrows, stroked his cheek bones, traced the outline of his full lips. Peter pulled a lock of her hair between his fingers, examined it, brushed it along his wrist.
After a minute of comfortable silence, he looked back up at her, "How come…" Claire glanced up at him and he shook his head. "Never mind."
"No, what?" She cupped his cheek, turning him back to face her. "Peter, you can ask me anything."
He merely looked at her for a moment before sighing. "I thought of this a few times tonight, but never really remembered until now. How come you don't regenerate after sex?"
"You mean…"
"Yeah."
Despite the progression in their relationship throughout the night, a hint of shyness was in Claire's smile, "Peter, I may have lost my virginity when I was eighteen, but my hymen had broken long before then. You know how physical activity can cause tearing and stretch the muscles?"
He nodded, of course he did, he was a nurse after all. Or, had been, at least. "Well I started cheerleading before I started regenerating. All the physical strain I put my body through then must've torn it enough not to make a difference later on."
That mischievous smile was back as Peter flipped them so Claire was on her back, "Well, I'm not complaining…"
Her giggle was muffled by his mouth as it moved eagerly over hers. Just as Claire spread her legs a little wider for Peter to settle down in between them, a faint buzzing sound was heard. Peter pulled his head back from hers, his eyes questioning if she had heard the noise as well. When it sounded again, they looked behind him, trying to decipher what it was.
Out of the blue, Claire's mind filled with a flashback of when she was in high school and that familiar sound was constantly heard in the classroom. She could remember silently praying that the vibrating sound wasn't her own cell phone and—
"Cell phone," she whispered quickly, her eyes flashing back to his.
Peter rolled and sat at the edge of the bed, "Fuck." He quickly glanced around the room, peering into the darkness in search of his pants. He sighed in frustration and raised one hand. Claire watched with intrigued eyes as a pair of pants suddenly floated across the room.
He hastily pulled out the phone and flipped it open, turning back towards her when he felt her outstretched hand tracing the planes of his back. Holding the phone up to his ear, he let out a slightly groggy: "Hiro? What is it?"
He held her gaze as he listened to what Hiro was saying on the other line, reaching out to trace a finger along her abdomen. Claire shivered when he hit a particularly sensitive spot just below her navel; he arched a dark eyebrow and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Right," he said finally with a sigh. "No, we're perfectly fine…we wandered off and didn't realize what time it was until it was late. We found my old apartment and spent the night there…yeah, I know. We're sorry for not calling…we'll be there in ten minutes.
"Apparently Erika was worried sick when we still hadn't returned by six this morning. Melody was afraid you'd gone and done something drastic after she left you in the bathroom," Peter explained with a teasing smile.
She laughed, sitting up and pressing a tender kiss on his shoulder. "You know me, always the drama queen."
As they dressed, Claire watched Peter silently. Her eyes followed the routine movements of his hands as they buckled his belt, then slowly traced up the musculature of his torso before reaching his face. She was particularly intrigued by the scar on his face, still amazed at how he'd managed to get a scar at all with her regeneration ability. She would ask him about it someday, when there were less serious things at hand.
The scar had hardened Peter's features and his eyes were filled with a weariness that hadn't been there when she'd met him five years ago, but his face looked about the same as it did in the photograph of him on the dresser.
"I stopped aging about four years ago," he answered quietly. Seeing her looking up at him in surprise, he gave a sheepish shrug. "I'm normally good at blocking people out, but you somehow manage to get through…you always have."
Claire smiled, not minding the fact that they had only two minutes left to get back to the others as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a long kiss. Peter rested his hands on her hips, allowing them a moment or two before pulling back to grab his coat from the living room.
When they were ready, he reached his hand out to her, which she took eagerly. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed, "Back to reality."
"Claire!" a voice shouted when the pair reappeared in the subway station. They glanced over to see Erika heading over to them, pushing past people to get to them.
"Where were you two?" she asked breathlessly when she reached them.
"Peter's old apartment," Claire explained, using the same excuse as the one Peter had told Hiro. "We hadn't even realized the time until Hiro called us. Sorry to worry you."
"Oh, it's alright. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Claire was sure Erika was being sincere, but she felt a bit unnerved by the way her friend was openly staring at her and Peter's clasped hands.
"Claire, Peter, over here," Hiro called out to them. He and Ando stood at the end of the railway, in a more secluded area. Damien, Molly and Melody were with them as well, seated in a pair of plastic chairs.
"What's going on?" Erika asked as the two began to make their way towards their friends. Claire glanced back at Peter once and he rested his hand on the small of her back reassuringly as he guided her over to the others.
"Erika, we're going to be going away for a little bit, try to shut down the TRA and the containment camps. Do you think you can handle being here alone?" she asked as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
Erika's light eyes flickered as her face hardened. "Where are you going? Why can't I go with?"
"Sorry," Hiro answered for her as they approached. "This is a private mission."
Erika crossed her arms and glared at him. "And just who died and made you king?"
"It's nothing personal, Erika," Peter explained quickly. "It's just that we don't want more people to know than necessary."
"I could be helpful though!" she insisted. "Do you know of anyone that can do this?" She stretched her arm up so it wrapped around a pole and came back to them. Everyone watched as Peter arched an eyebrow and stretched his arm out like hers to bring another chair over.
She scoffed. "Okay fine. But I need this just as much as you guys do. You have no idea what they put me through." She turned to Claire, grabbing her hands. "You do, though. Don't you want to get back at the guys who did this to you?"
Claire noticed the way Peter's hands clenched at his sides through her peripheral vision. She looked into Erika's eyes, seeing pain and determination. She sighed and turned to the group, "She has a point. She deserves to go just as much as any of us."
No one questioned her and they all sat around a small plastic table with an atlas on it. Peter turned to Molly. "I need you to find my brother, Nathan Petrelli. Think you can do that?"
"That was him on TV right? I can find him now," she said with a confident nod. She closed her eyes and slowly turned the atlas pages, eventually landing on Washington D.C.
Damien snorted. "Well no surprise there."
"I couldn't exactly tell where he was," Molly admitted. "He looked different."
"He's probably stressed or something," Melody supplied.
Peter leaned forward, "Okay, so our first task is to get to D.C. We need to think of a way to infiltrate the White House unseen. I was—"
"Hiro? I think you guys should look at this," Ando said suddenly. He brought a small television set they'd been watching earlier over, setting it on the table. Nathan was on the screen, he was walking into a building as several men in suits spoke to him and showed him files. In the upper corner of the television screen was a red box with the word LIVE in it.
"Is that for real?" Claire asked breathlessly.
"Looks like it," Peter answered, his face looking just as shocked as she was sure hers did.
At the bottom of the screen were the words PRESIDENT PETRELLI VISITS GEORGIA. Everyone around the table was silent as they watched more images of Nathan shaking hands with various men wearing suits. They kept looking at files and then finally stepped into a building that had the Georgia state symbol on the front of it.
Ando spoke hurriedly to Hiro in Japanese, apparently questing what was going on. Molly looked confused, even tried her power again, and winding up with the same answer.
Claire swallowed, "So, if Nathan is at the White House…"
"Then who the fuck is that?" Peter finished.
A/N: So sorry for taking so long to update. I don't know what got into me! Busy I guess. No real excuse. Anyway, I know this is short but this chapter was annoying me and I just couldn't get it to come out the way I wanted. Finally its close enough and I can't stand to have it sit here any longer. So I'm just going to post it and hope to move over this bump in the road.
Please comment!
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