Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


"Stop that."

She giggles and ignores him.

She fusses with his hair, skims her hands over the back, pulls the two long pieces in front. Tugs on them like it's a toy.

"Are you through?" She's nudged onto the arm of the chair he's sitting in.

Finally he waves her hands away and walks to the hall mirror where he straightens his bangs.

He's been the good son and brother and had dinner with the family. But it's Friday night and now he's trying, attempting to get ready to go out with his friends. Peter doesn't have many friends. That's intentional. The few friends he does have are ones he's had since elementary school.

"Why can't I go out with you and Marky and Dean?" Claire pouts exaggeratedly.

"Because you're a kid, kid," says Peter.

"I'm not," said Claire quietly.

"Sure. What does your license say your age is?" Peter asks her jokingly.

She punches his arm. She's still a little sensitive about her lack of a license.

"It's not fair," says Claire. "I love your friends. I don't have any. Why won't you share?"

"Who's whining like a kid now?"

"I'm serious," says Claire, and Peter realizes that she is. She means it. She wants to go out with him and his loud, rowdy friends Marky and Dean.

He doesn't blame her; they're funny as hell, and the little she's seen of them is nothing compared to how fun they got after a couple beers.

Peter sighs and stands in front of her. She kicks his shin lightly with the point of her toe.

"You're 16, Claire. And you wouldn't pass for 21. You wouldn't even pass for 18. How would I get you into a bar?"



Claire doesn't say anything, but the frown on her face lets him know that she gets it, that there's no way he can give her what she wants tonight.

She sighs, echoing his own. "Fine. But I'm not happy about it, and I don't think its fair. If we did stop aging, at least you're like, thirty—"

He tries not to bluster, but it's hard. "Thirty? Excuse me?" He pokes her shoulder, but she continues talking, like she never heard him at all.

"—I refuse to be stuck as a sixteen year old. I better keep growing," said Claire.

"Well, the year on the birth certificate won't change. I don't think you're in any danger of that," said Peter.

"You never know. Maybe Nathan will get it changed so I don't do anything embarrassing," said Claire.

Peter smiles sadly at her dark expression. "Well hey, that's the wrong way to go. Underage drinking seems to pretty popular with certain political families."

"Okay. Yeah, have a word with him about that," says Claire, back to her pouting. "You know what else isn't fair? Guys only get hotter the older they get. So you're going to stop aging when you look the best."

Peter doesn't quite know what to say.

Claire clears her throat. "So yeah. Not fair."

He finally twists out a retort, though he stumbles a bit at first. "So you think old men are hot? I could hook you up at my job."

She glowers at him. "You know what I mean."

He can't help but laugh. "Well Claire, tell me what to do about that? If I knew how to shut it off, I probably would."


Peter opens the closet door, and roots around for his coat. "Acting mad isn't going to make me take you with."

"Aw, come on!" Claire is back to whining. "Please! It's Friday night and I am freaking bored to death!"

"Go out with your friends!" Peter says exasperatedly.

" I don't have any," says Claire sadly.

"There is no way in hell that I believe that," says Peter.

"Why not?" asks Claire, and sinks lower into her seat.

"Because." That's all he says, all he can explain with.

"I love Marky and Dean," mumbles Claire as she puts her hand under her chin.

And boy, did Marky and Dean love Claire. A beautiful blonde who's smart and nice and fun to be around? He's known both of them since kindergarten and there's no way he trusts them around his niece, even though they both swear that she's too young for them.

"They aren't that much fun," said Peter consolingly. Which was a lie. They are very fun, but he doesn't want her to feel left out. "They'll probably just go to a bunch of bars for twelve buck beers. You aren't missing anything."

"A fake I.D.!" Claire sits up straight. "I need one."

Before he can reply, Heidi's heels clicked into the foyer. "Peter, I thought you'd gone," says Heidi, and she smiles.

"In a minute," said Peter. "Marky's coming by for me in a few."

Heidi nods, and her smile fades a little as she sees her stepdaughter. "Oh. Claire. I thought Sebastian would've been here by now."

Claire visibly strafes to the side. "Yeah, I don't know where he is."

Heidi checks her watch. "Well, it's nearly eight. I thought for sure he'd be here early."

Peter looks at Claire before turning to his sister-in-law. "Who's Sebastian?"

"Claire didn't tell you? Her little boyfriend," says Heidi, her fingers fluttering at his niece. "Follows her around like a puppy. Been out with her every night this week."


Heidi examines her fingernails. "Nice family. Really popular boy. Big group of friends, not that Claire needs to be spending any more time outside of this house and not on her homework."

"Huh," says Peter, rocking back on his heels and looking pointedly at his Claire. "No friends?"

As Heidi's footsteps trickle away into the kitchen, Claire frowns. "Oh, so what. I'd still rather go out with Marky and Dean."

"Sebastian? Interesting name," says Peter

"He's French."

Peter nods his head. "Nice boy?"

"Yeah." Claire sounds defeated.

"Do I get to meet him?"

"I guess. If you want," says Claire.

"How about tonight?"

"Um, I think I should prepare him beforehand, don't you think?" asks Claire.

"Why? Does he need a briefing?" asks Peter. His eyes grow wide. "You didn't tell him about…our family, did you?"

"God! Of course I didn't," says Claire tersely. "He has no clue."

"Then I can say hey before I go, right?"

"Why do you want to meet him so bad?" asks Claire.

"Just do," says Peter, as the phone in his pocket rumbles. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end crackles before the call is lost. "That's weird," says Peter.

A loud horn sounded from outside the house.

"The boy honks for you? That's class."

Claire rolls her eyes as she crosses to the door. "Please."

Peter's this close to telling her to get her purse because she's coming with him and he'll sneak her into the bar, when he hears a thunderous Island accent outside the door.

"Peter! Get your butt out here," says Marky, and his voice echoes loudly off of the walls of the foyer when Claire opens the door.

"Oh. Claire. Sorry," says Marky, flashing his teeth at her.

Peter rolls his eyes.

"That's okay." Claire smiles at Marky. Marky's hair is slicked straight up and back on the sides in a real Hottigotti Island 'do.

"Alright, lets go," says Peter, and he puts his coat on.

Marky ignores him. "You comin' with us tonight, Claire?"

"Peter says I can't." Claire has a sour look on her face.

"Bummer. Whelp. Next time," says Marky as Peter walks toward the door.

"Hey do you care if we hang around a minute?" Peter asks.

"Hang around. Hang around? Dean's driving in circles, baby, we can't hang around. We gotta get into Dolce's before nine, when they double the booze. Come on," says Marky, and pulls Peter toward the street.

"God, okay." Peter turns to Claire, who is standing in the doorframe. "Guess I'll have to meet Sebastian later."

"Uh huh," says Claire, smirking at him.

"Mr. Petrelli! I don't have a million bucks to spend while you idle my gas away," calls a bald man from the window of his car. Dean.

"Oh please, you live on Oyster Bay." But he goes. Peter gives Claire a little half-bow, making her laugh as he walks to the street.

"Hiya Claire," says Dean in a faux come-hither, wiggles his fingers at her.

"Hi Dean." Claire waves good-naturedly at the older boy.

"Too young for you. Too good for you," says Peter under his breath to Dean.

"Yeah yeah. I'm just admiring the view," says Dean, and waves some more.

"Shh, man that's my niece," says Peter, and slaps the back of Dean's bald head.

"And Claire, you ever need a fake ID, I can hook you up," says Marky as he gets into the back of Dean's car.

"Shut up," says Peter, but he's laughing as he sits down.

As they're pulling away, a boy with very blond hair parks a Bentley outside of his brother's house.

"Who's that twink," says Dean.

Peter watches as Claire hugs the boy, her figure retreating quickly in the rear view mirror. "I think it's her boyfriend."

"He any good?" asks Marky.

"Dunno," says Peter.

"Hope he's good enough for our little Claire," says Marky.

"Yeah. Hope so," says Peter quietly.

A/N - marky and dean are totally inspired by the members of the dsc. it's for life.