Had he kissed her?

Maybe his power was just off and he pulled her towards him instead of pushing her away. And somehow, by some strange act of God not involving the active will of any party involved, their lips met, you know, because his power fritzed.

It did feel an awful lot like a kiss, though.

Claire sat there on the couch, just like the last time Sylar broke in, only this time she wasn't so numb. Her mind was swimming with thoughts, theories, explanations. This time she was flooded with emotions, most of all confusion. On top of it all, she has no idea how she would explain this to her mom.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Weeks went by and Claire's incident with Sylar felt like some vague and distant memory to her now. After she managed to convince her mom the huge dent in the wall was the result of reckless and clumsy dancing, her life returned to normal, or at least as normal as it was before.

Since Claire was officially a drop-out, she had spent that first week pacing the house while her mom and brother were away, trying not to think of Sylar. Eventually, the details she played over and over in her mind began to blend together and fade until, finally, she could perform simple tasks without looking over her shoulder or flinching at every little noise.

Today she decided she'd sit back and relax, maybe watch a little T.V. Claire hopped onto the couch and started flipping through the channels.

"-the man was described as being abrasive and-"

"-Bitch! He's my man, don't you be-"

"-I love you so much, Beth, but….-"

"-That's the point, you're supposed to be tempted into shaving.

You're face looks like Robin William's knuckles.

Hahaha…"

She settled on some popular romance comedy that was just starting and slipped into the comfort of the couch. As the movie played, Claire wondered what it would be like to just live a normal life, worrying only about school and boys and what college she would get into. Her mind wandered and she stared off into space, absorbed in her own little world until her focus drifted back to the film and she realized the characters were two pieces of clothing away from a sex scene. A warm tingling sensation rushed through her belly. The characters onscreen began to grind into each other, and Claire could feel her body getting hot. She sighed with relief.

"Finally."

Claire squirmed down the couch so she was lying down, happy she was finally in the mood again. After weeks of trying to "blow of steam" and getting nowhere, she was ready for a good orgasm. She slid her hand under the elastic waistband of her sweatpants and started rubbing, slowly, eager to build up to the perfect release. She started rubbing faster and harder, but this ruined the momentum and she knew she would lose her chance to come if she didn't do this right. With her stress levels being about 10x those of a normal person, she rarely ever got the chance to enjoy herself like this. Images flashed through her mind as Claire tried to think of anything that could help get her over the edge.

Sex. Cock. Fucking. That cute guy from the video store…Fucking the guy from the video store. He slides his hand over your body and down to your…Ooooh…mm…Johnny Depp-Sex-Cute guy from the video store-Sylar-

Claire stopped and opened her eyes.

"What?"

She pulled her hand out form her pants and sat up. Why would she think of Sylar?

I must still be stressed out about it. Nothing more than subconscious stress.

Claire looked uneasy, but decided to lean back and start again. She tried hard to think of something normal, like normal girls do, but again her mind shot to an image of Sylar, right there in front of her, breathing heavy. She was almost there and didn't want to stop so she let her mind do what it wanted. She was so immersed in her own pleasure she didn't care. Flashes of Sylar went through her mind, his hand hovering up her body, and she kept rubbing, faster and faster, Sylar's hand on her throat, his warm breath on her face, faster and faster, that kiss-

"Oooooh…Oh my god"

She tensed, shook, moaning, then laid there on the couch, panting, fist still clenched around the edge of the sofa cushion. After a few moments, Claire opened her eyes and got up to go to the bathroom, legs weak from the power of her orgasm. She walked awkwardly through the door and sat down on the toilet, allowing her mind to piece together the reality of the situation. Then it sunk it.

Fuck.