A/N: Okay, so this is something I've never done before. An AU Heroes fic, where no one has powers and Claire's a Petrelli, Gabriel Gray was this underappreciated, eccentric genius geek who did not become Sylar (yet?), and to top it all off, she has a blue-blooded English boyfriend (which was entirely my doing). Bear with me. And please do tell me if this fic is too...weird. Reviews are much appreciated and loved. Flames...not so much. Constructive criticism is awesome.

Well then, on with the story! :)

Chapter 1

Gabriel stared at the girl standing in front of him unblinkingly, his face expressionless. He had never seen the girl in the flesh before, but she was all smiles and sweet with a sunny disposition. He postulated this, of course, from the way she extended her arm towards him for a handshake. It would be deemed rude if he did not reciprocate the action. Social normalcy had long constituted that he should do so.

His breath hitched when the skin contact happened. It was all he could do not to think of the number of bacteria colonies that would be transferred between them. More from her than him, obviously, when she had been carrying her suitcases that who knows had been where into apartment 6A. Where was the alcohol hand rub when he needed it most? His mind buzzed with all thoughts of needing to decontaminate.

"I'm Claire," her green eyes twinkled. "Ian talked a lot about you," she said when he finally pulled his hand away, unconsciously rubbing it against his striped sweater. If she noticed that he was uncomfortable with this exchange, she did not show it. Attempting a stab at conversing with a strikingly pretty young lady, Gabriel replied in one breath, "I know who you are. Claire Petrelli, the only daughter of Senator Nathan Petrelli. And while you have been Mr. Farquhar's classmate at the prestigious Harvard Law School, it appears to me that you are also going to be his housemate."

She did not feign her surprise. It wasn't so much in the way he'd said it; Ian had warned her that Gabriel would be bone-dry and humourless and especially blunt. It wasn't that he knew a lot about her father either – Nathan Petrelli was on the cover of Time just last month. No, it was how well-versed Gabriel was on one particular subject: herself.

Well, maybe Ian had told Gabriel about her, and perhaps he took it upon himself to Google her to elicit further information about his future neighbour. Even if that was true, no one remembers her past her father's name. She was forever bound to just be the blonde Petrelli girl.

"Wow. How did you know that?" her eyebrows arched quizzically.

Gabriel's grip on his messenger bag strap tightened. "Oh," he began, "I remember you from People magazine."

Claire stepped back and felt as if her head hit something hard. "Um, sorry?"

"You were in the November 2008 issue, remember? You were photographed at an after party of some awards show. I happened to flip through the reading material as I was having lunch because someone left it on the cafeteria table." His lips pursed in concentration as he tried to remember every detail. "And of course, your father was last month's Time cover. Such glaring facts are hard to miss, Miss Petrelli," he added solicitously.

Gabriel merely watched Claire's gaze widen as he explained the minute particulars of his discovery. She was surprised. He was used to it. Had he been twenty years younger, he would have had difficulties understanding what little human gestures and facial expressions meant. He would not brag that he was an expert now – far from it. At least his condition was not as challenging as when he was a child. Some of the snags were still there. He was still opposed to the idea of human skin contact. He preferred to be alone. He despised empty social chit-chat (which was what he was reduced to now, to his indignation). So why was he still waiting for her to say something, even when it was clear as day that he did not want to be trapped in this social awkwardness?

Hastily, he looked at his watch and realized that he was going to be late if he didn't make a move now. "Right, I've got to go," he spluttered before dashing down the stairs. Smacking his forehead, he ran back upstairs. Ma always told him to remember his manners, so he did. "Nice to meet you, Miss Petrelli," he almost shouted nervously, before she could even take a proper look at him. He strained his brain to say something else but failed.

She shook her head, trying to suppress her laughter. "Nice to meet you too, Gabriel," she quietly spoke to no one. "...and thanks," before twirling elegantly back into the apartment.

As he cycled his way to the MIT Artificial Intelligence Lab, Gabriel berated himself inwardly. "Shouldn't have returned her cellphone. Shouldn't have volunteered to carry her suitcase. Shouldn't have talked to her at all!"

Having nauseously friendly neighbours wasn't exactly what Gabriel had in mind when he opted to move to Massachusetts. And he still needed to wash his hands.

"Hi babes," Claire tiptoed and wrapped her arms around the neck of the tall, lean figure in front of her. She gave him a sly grin and waited for him to lower his lips to meet hers. They kissed sweetly, longingly, passionately. They had only been separated for a day yet the lovers' embrace implied that it might have better been centuries.

"I missed you Ian," she whispered, "so....much."

"Miss you too, Claire," came the obligatory reply that was decidedly British-accented. "I told you that I'd come and help you carry all these stuff. You don't have to do it yourself, you know," Ian pointed out. "What if you break your back?" he rebuked playfully.

"You could give me a free, full-body massage," she grinned.

Ian clicked his tongue. "You just gave me an evil idea. But," his gentle blue eyes searched for her coral green ones, "in all seriousness. You didn't carry all these by yourself, did you?"

"No," Claire plopped onto the sofa next to him. Her blonde locks fanned out and tickled his skin, tempting him to reach out and comb his fingers into the silken strands. He put an arm around her small yet curvaceous body, tracing the smooth skin down her elbow. "Your eccentric neighbour helped me," she continued, placing her head on his chest at the same time.

"Gabriel?" he yelped out in astonishment, causing Claire to jerk in reaction. Ian broke into an uncontrollable laughter. "Really?"

Claire tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, he did. Look, he wasn't as bad as I thought he would be. You worry too much."

"And I thought that he would be immune to your awesomeness," Ian surmised. Something might have lit up in his thoughts, for he suddenly sat up and gazed up at her curiously. "Tell me everything."

"Uh, okay," Claire began cautiously, "I guess he was off to work this morning. I was already in the apartment, and I realized that my cellphone was gone. I went downstairs and bumped into him in the stairwell, with him holding my cell like this," she held her phone using only the tips of her thumb and her index finger, "as if it's contagious," – to which Ian snorted and commented, "that's Gabriel for you," and she gave him an unimpressed look.

"Sorry," Ian raised his hands in the air. "Please, do continue..."

"I told him it's mine, but he kinda didn't believe me, so I cited my number so he could give me a miss-call."

"Whoa, hold on there, Claire. You gave your number to a complete stranger at this point?" Ian said in disbelief. "That's dangerous!"

"I could change my number anytime, don't worry. Besides, the first moment I lay my eyes on him, I knew that it was the infamous Gabriel Gray right away. You've told me too many things about him, there's no way I could miss it. Oh, and by the way, your description is spot on! Thick-rimmed glasses? Check. Striped grey-coloured sweater? Check. Tall and gangly? Check." She placed a gentle palm on his cheek. "Don't worry," she told him. Leaning forward to shower butterfly kisses on his forehead and nose, she moved tentatively downwards to his lips. And halted. And backed off.

And put up a finger in faux reprimand, as if to remind him, "I'm not a dumb bimbo, just because I'm blonde."

"I trust you," Ian promised in earnest, wrapping his fingers around hers tightly. "So, tell me. What else happened?"

"So he gave me my cell back and saw the warzone in the lobby. Probably felt the responsibility to help carry my suitcases upstairs. We chatted for a bit, and that was that."

"Funny how easy it took for him to warm up to someone new. I mean, when I first moved in, it was a full month before I first saw him. Another month before we started talking. And I," Ian stressed on the 'I', "was the one who had to approach him first."

"It wasn't all for nothing, I mean, he helped you a lot with your computer and stereo and God knows what else," she said thoughtfully.

"And I shall be eternally grateful for that. What I'm truly worried about is if I'd made the right decision by letting you move in with me, because he might have a freaky crush on you. Did he freak you out?" he expressed his feelings, which on the surface might have seemed lighthearted. Claire knew that somehow, Ian meant his last words.

"Ian, that guy was eager to get rid of me as soon as possible. I've never seen anyone so uncomfortable talking to anyone in my whole life. And he did not freak me out. A tad, maybe. But probably because he's a super geek and I've never really met one," she told him a little too intensely.

Ian giggled like a schoolboy. "Oh, he's the king of kings of geeks. He's off the charts."

"You know what?" Claire smiled peevishly. "He keeps referring to you and me as Mr. Farquhar and Miss Petrelli. He reminds me so much of Mr. Prescott, I don't even know why. Probably it's his tone of voice." Mr. Prescott was one of their law professors.

"If he reminds you of Mr. Prescott, I have nothing to worry at all," he professed.

She said nothing. Suddenly she didn't feel like talking about her new neighbour anymore. Made her feel...uncomfortable. Standing up and smoothing the crease of her blouse, Claire told Ian as-a-matter-of-factly, "I've got to unpack. Then we'll go have dinner at Marco's right?" She winked.

He watched her sashay into his room; his eyes lingered longer than they should have. No. It was their room now, and it's alright, because they're officially living together as a couple. So why did he feel as if she hadn't told him everything?

She detested having doubts. But she loved Ian, she really did. And this was for the best, because she needed someone by her side. She was done living in loneliness. She closed the door because she needed the privacy. She knelt by her suitcase and took a deep breath. Unzipping the piece of luggage, she took out her belongings one by one. There was this equipment specifically that made her feel slightly rebellious, yet frighteningly comforting at the same time. Just like Diane Arbus, she thought apprehensively.

Her SLR digital camera.

Liberation.

She was Miss Independent, but even Miss Independent needed someone to fall back on. And decidedly, she thought, it would never be her big shot family.

She glanced upwards at the ceiling.

Her inner voice told her that Ian was wrong. Maybe he has a reason to worry.

Gabriel Gray had a cat. He named it Harold. If there was anything unpredictable in his life, Harold would be it. It was the only lifelong companion he could stand, the only living organism on Earth he'd cared about. And he was comfortable with it.

But after he returned from work, Harold was nowhere to be found.

"Harold? Oh Harold? Haaaa...rollllld? Meow?" Gabriel purred, panic settling in. "Where are you?"

He'd searched his whole apartment. No sign of the cat.

Gabriel swore he must've jumped down the flight of stairs from his apartment door, the 7 without an alphabet, leading to Ian's 6A. Knocking frantically yet with a rhythm and perfect timing, Gabriel was sweating, yet his expressionless facade betrayed the arrhythmia dancing the flamenco in the chambers of his heart.

She was the last thing he had expected. "Gabriel?"

"Did you see Harold?" he handed her a box of cupcakes.

"Gabriel?" came an Estuary English-accented male voice from inside the apartment, footsteps rushing towards the door. Now that Gabriel rendered his full visual attention to the two people in apartment 6A, he realized that they too were sweating, their faces flushed, hair in disarray. Not to mention that they were wearing matching robes. Gabriel had no interest in what they were doing before he knocked. He would have easily assumed that they were unpacking Claire's things, but in barely tied robes?

"What's wrong?" Ian inquired, not quite looking at Gabriel but eyeing the cupcake box in Claire's hands. This subtle movement did not, however, escape Gabriel's stare. "It is customary for visiting neighbours to bring gifts, in this case," he signified, "food."

"Thank you," Claire nodded sagely.

Gabriel was about to say "You're welcome," when Ian cut him off irately. "You came just to give us cupcakes." It was not phrased as a question, but a fact. The Englishman's blue-blood was about to boil, but this was Gabriel. Gabriel Gray, the resident geek. It would be unfair for him.

"Not just. Harold is missing," Gabriel replied tartly.

Claire failed to see the correlation between 'Harold is missing' and 'cupcakes', but Ian seemed to understand. "Oh. I've been in my apartment all day, I didn't see him."

Gabriel expediently switched his intense stare towards Claire without saying anything. She gaped, not knowing if she should stare back, blink, look away or say something. "Um...uh..." was all she could muster.

"It was his cat, Claire. Harold's his cat and he's missing. Did you see a cat anywhere in this building today?" Ian aided her. The comprehension dawned on her. "Ohhhhh..."

"Well, did you? See him? Small? Furry? Meows?" Gabriel asked her, looking almost bewildered. In fact, Claire thought, his hair had gone unkempt. Very geek chic.

"I know what a cat looks like, Gabriel. Does he have a collar?" Claire chided gently, trying to offer some leads to how he might try and find Harold.

"Yes he does," Gabriel's eyes furrowed. "I'll look downstairs," he said pensively. He was about to turn away; Ian and Claire going back inside before Gabriel slipped in an unknowing, innocent "Enjoy the cupcakes" to the couple and rushed back down.

Ian smirked at Claire, who had taken the liberty to hold up a cupcake to her mouth, her robe slightly parted. She stood demurely as the door clicked shut and sauntered lazily towards him.

"Oh yes we will," she purred, licking the icing off the cupcake.

Saturday.

It was only 5.30 in the morning, and the sun was already shining brightly. Warm. Fuzzy.

Claire was alone. Her camera bag was slung on her left shoulder, her fingers gripping the strap tightly as if her life depended on it. She felt particularly mutinous today, since it was the weekend and by definition people are not supposed to wake up at 5 in the morning to take photographs, when one had too much to drink the night before.

Which was what happened to Ian.

She was sure he wouldn't wake up before she returned back home, so she had a few hours to spend in this new, uncharted territory. It must have been more than a normal park. A garden it must be, she decided victoriously, based on the fabled Elysium. Yet it had been abandoned, and it was more of a forest than a garden – but the marred statues of Greek deities indicated that this place once had been private property to a Romantic with great vision. And wealth. And power.

Wealth and power. She became slightly depressed when she thought of those two words, because they reminded her of her own family. Her seemingly perfect family, just waiting to crack under the pressure.

No. She refused to wallow in her own problems. Today was too beautiful for her to feel sorry for herself. She had to cherish this moment while it lasted. Claire walked further into the garden until she reached what she believed was a lake. A man-made lake, to be sure. Her nimble fingers worked with her camera with precision and professionalism. She clicked the capture button whenever and wherever she felt was right. She was an amateur, but this was a hobby, and a hobby she loved nonetheless. She believed that she was quite good at it.

But no one had to know.

As she looked through the viewfinder, her heart skipped a beat when she saw someone leaning by a tree a few feet from the ledge of the lake. She twisted the lens to zoom. It was someone familiar. He was oblivious to her presence.

"Gabriel?" she whispered in shock. "Why the hell's he here?"

Quietly, she moved behind a tree a few feet behind his tree where she could spy on him through her lens. She watched him as she racked her brain, trying to think what was different about him this morning. To be honest, it had been four days since she last saw him. The last time being the night he knocked recklessly at Ian's door, looking for Harold. Curiously, she hadn't heard from him after that. Maybe he'd found him. She did ask Ian about it, but he hadn't heard anything about it either.

Gabriel was listening to his iPod, she chuckled. For some reason she'd never thought of him as the iPod listening type. That man worked at MIT Artificial Intelligence lab, for God's sake. Of course he's got to have the latest gadgetry. He's got to have the latest gadgetry, even before they were sold in stores. Even when they were still manufactured in factories, perhaps. Even when they were mere prototypes.

She held the camera steadily and took a few candid photos of Gabriel as he rummaged through his rucksack, picking up a book. She couldn't make out what the title said; it was a colossal paperback nevertheless. She was never a fan of taking photos of people, but this was too fun to let slip away. Because this was Gabriel, and he was alone.

She felt hot and bothered all of a sudden.

The ridiculous glasses were still there. But he was dressed fully in black, as if in mourning. No striped sweater. Just a long-sleeved black t-shirt overtopped by an unbuttoned dark blue plaid shirt, black jeans...

Casual.

So this was how Gabriel-at-the-weekends looked like. Claire was highly confident that even Ian had never seen him like this. She leaned forward, trying to get a better view of the book he was reading, but failed miserably. She decided to switch to a higher-powered lens, yet by the time she locked her camera focus on target, Gabriel was gone.

Not for long.

"Morning, Miss Petrelli."

Claire admitted defeat and pivoted reluctantly to face her unexpected guest. She didn't even dare look at him.

"Morning, Mr. Gray."

to be continued...

A/N #2: So....that was the first chapter. How was it? Good? Bad? Also, did anyone get the cat reference?