a peter & claire story

AN - - - So, this story popped into my head while watching West Side Story, of all things, but here it is. This is one of my few light-hearted pieces, so enjoy!

Disclaimer; I don't own Peter, Claire, Heroes, Peter and Claire's relationship, or West Side Story. I do, however, own the formation of these words, and the plot (or lack thereof).

Review, and make a little girl's day!

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife."

And with that, they kissed.

Originally, they hadn't planned for their little vacation to Paris, France to end with their marriage, but a lot can change in a week when you have super powers and you're fighting for your own safety and others'.

Peter and Claire (both truly Petrellis, now,) had realized that life was too short, and the whole thing really wasn't too wrong, since Peter hadn't given her baths in her childhood or anything and Claire had never really called him 'uncle' and they had had a few weeks together (and then, apart) not knowing that they were related, so really, they couldn't have been expected not to fall in love, and, after all, they were in a city where marrying your niece was perfectly legal and-

And so they had managed to convince themselves, through a series of very screwy logic, that it was okay for Peter to want to do those things to his niece and even more okay for said niece to want him to do said things to her.

"I can't believe I just got married in pants," Claire said, disgusted. "Who gets married in pants?"

"You, apparently," Peter responded cheerfully before leaning in to kiss her yet again – he hadn't been able to get enough.

"Apparently," Claire sighed, kissing him, but pulling back to slip her hand into his. "So, Peter, back to the hotel room, or should we spend time in the city, first?"

Peter arched an eyebrow incredulously. "I just made an honest woman out of you and you think that I want to spend time in the city?"

Claire laughed as he picked her up, suitably bridal style, and carried her off towards their hotel room. "'An honest woman'? Who says 'an honest woman' anymore?"

"Apparently I do," Peter grinned down at her, well aware they were repeating themselves.

"Apparently," she finished.

They got to the hotel room in record time, a fact Claire attributed to Peter's amazing stamina - and at the thought, she couldn't stop grinning – and into their room even quicker.

"God, you're beautiful," he said as he dropped her gently on to the bed, and he was on her in a second, kissing, touching, sucking everything he could get his hands on.

"Never done this before," Claire gasped suddenly, and Peter pulled back, surprised.

"You're a virgin?"

"What makes you think I wouldn't be!?" Claire asked, indignant.

"You're beauty, charm, grace, wits-"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, yeah, I'm perfect and all that, but I'm still a virgin, okay?"

Peter smiled softly, reaching down to cup her cheek. "It's okay; I'll do what I can to make it easier, okay?"

Claire relaxed immediately into his hand, nodding, eyes closed.

"But we need a safe word. If you say it, I'll stop."

Claire opened her eyes and arched an eyebrow. "Can't it just be 'stop'?"

Peter grinned wickedly. "I'll be making you say a lot of things."

Claire rolled her eyes, but grew somber and was chewing her lip in thought – while Peter watched, entranced – until finally, her eyes lit up. She laughed, and her grin widened. "I got it. The safe word – it'll be 'uncle'!"

Peter groaned.