***Part Seven***
Word Count: 2,459

There are spoilers through Truth & Consequences (2x10) in this part. I'm choosing to ignore the quest Peter & Adam were going on at the end of this episode. So, we're totally AU after Truth & Consequences.

"Claire?"

"Yes."

"It's Peter."

"I was wondering when you were going to get around to calling and tell me you were all right."

"Yeah, sorry, I've kind of had my hands full."

"Your mother or brother could have, too."

"Things aren't so great around here right now. Please don't be angry with them, Claire. I'm calling now."

She smiled. "I'm glad you called."

"You may not be so glad after I've finished telling you what I need to tell you."

"Okay?"

"I should apologize to you."

"For?"

"I told someone about you."

"Adam?"

"So, he found you."

"Yeah, a while ago. That's how I knew you were alive."

"Oh, right, I guess that makes sense." Silence. "There are a few things you should know."

"Like?"

She listened as Peter told her about the killings.

"And you think?"

"I know, Claire. I led him right to the last one. I swear to you I didn't know when I told him about you."

"I have to go."

"Claire, I'm sorry, if I'd known…"

"I have to go, Peter. I'm glad you're all right. Really."

"Are you all right?"

"No," she said softly.

"How involved have you gotten with him?"

"Pretty involved."

"Wow, okay, I didn't see that coming," he said.

"I really have to go now, Peter, I'll talk to you soon okay? Say hi to your mom and brother for me," she said and disconnected.

How he'd known she'd be home from school now she didn't know, but Peter had managed to call when she was the only one at home. She grabbed the keys for the car she wasn't allowed to drive to school and scribbled a note to her parents. They'd freak if they came home and found the car gone after the other one was stolen.

She probably shouldn't have been driving when she was upset, but she didn't have much choice. It didn't take her long at all to get to his house. The fact she'd sped along the way helped. She could tell by the look on his face when he opened the door she'd surprised him. At least she wasn't the only one getting surprised today.

"Claire. I didn't realize you were coming by this afternoon."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not, you're always welcome. I've told you that."

"So, you aren't busy killing someone at the moment?"

He laughed. "I'm sorry?" he said, realizing apparently that she was serious in her question. "What are you talking about?"

"Peter called me this afternoon."

"How is he?"

"He seems fine. Apologetic."

"For what?"

"Telling you about me."

"But why? If he hadn't told me about you…" His eyes widened. "Ah, I see. What is it he told you?"

"The Company, there were twelve founders or something and you've managed to kill them all since you convinced Peter to escape and take you with him."

"I saved Nathan's life."

"You could have told Peter my blood would have done the same."

"I didn't know about you at the time!"

"You still aren't denying you killed anyone."

"I told you I've done things I'm not exactly proud of but that I consider necessary."

"Killing twelve people was necessary?"

"They had me committed! They locked me up and threw away the key, afraid I was too powerful. Afraid of me."

"I'm not sure I can blame them."

"I was defending myself. As long as they were alive I knew they would hunt me down."

"So you hunted them down instead?"

"I value my freedom. I have not lied to you about that."

"You evidently left out quite a bit."

He backed her against the door.

"Would you care to try it, Claire? Would you? Being locked up like an animal because you're different? Because your power is such that it scares people. I'd outlive them, so of course I'd see that they were up to no good. Don't you see? Your father…"

"Don't you dare bring him into this."

"Your father was misled, brought into The Company and led around by the nose because I was locked up. There was no one there to be contradictory. No one there to keep them in check."

"And who's going to keep you in check."

He grabbed hold of her by the arms and drew her toward him. She tried to struggle, but he was bigger than she was and he had hundreds of years of experience doing this sort of thing.

"You are!"

She struggled against his grasp, but all that did was make him hold on tighter. "That is not my job."

"But it is. That is what you are for me, Claire. You don't have a vengeful or violent bone in your body and I need that."

"If you need me to stop you from killing people then we have problems."

He sighed, clearly frustrated. As if her confronting him with facts was an inconvenience.

"You have slept beside me, allowed me to kiss and touch you. Have I ever once given you the impression I was a monster? A violent man?"

"You're holding onto me right now like you are."

"Because I'm trying to get you to listen to me. I did what I had to do. While I am not proud of it, I will not apologize for it either. Do you realize that by keeping me locked up, having access to my blood they could prolong their own lives? And the life of anyone they needed to keep alive for whatever reason. And I assure you not all of them were good reasons. It isn't just your beloved Nathan who's alive, unblemished because of my blood. And they'd do the same to you if they got a hold of you. Use you to keep themselves alive. You would be a provider of life's elixir nothing more. You wouldn't even be Claire to them. Just a human cow, a supplier of blood."

"Adam."

"Come talk to me in four hundred years and let me know that you've done nothing questionable, nothing that was morally wrong but had to be done."

"Morally wrong! It's against the law."

"Whose law exactly? When you've lived as long as I have there are so many they all blend together."

"That's just ridiculous. You'd have to be a fool not to know it was wrong to kill people."

"One would think."

"We aren't laws onto ourselves, Adam."

"Answer me this, Claire," he said, the frustration leaving his voice. It had been replaced with something she didn't understand.

"What?"

He kissed her then. Kissing was really too mild of a word. She'd never, ever experienced anything like it. And they'd certainly explored most facets of kissing the past month or so.

Plunder? Could you do that with a kiss? She didn't respond at first. She wasn't expecting him to kiss her for one. And, for two, she wasn't sure she should be kissing him just now. Or ever again. He'd killed people. Twelve of them. At least. He hadn't said it outright, but he'd admitted enough for her to know he had done it.

He didn't let up. In fact, he grew even more aggressive, pressing against her so the door at her back was almost painful. As wild as his kiss was she knew she wasn't in any real danger. At least not that kind of danger. And with that thought she knew that resisting him was just stupid. She couldn't put herself in his shoes, not yet. She had no idea how she'd react if someone locked her up. Her parents, her brother. Yeah, she'd probably do things she shouldn't.

He moaned when she swiped his tongue with hers, tightening his already vice grip-like hold on her. He released her when their tongues actually met. Thoughts of running weren't forefront in her mind now anyway, especially as his hands were busy working the small buttons on her cashmere sweater. He found the basic lacy white bra's front clasp and undid that too. She cried out as his hands found her breasts, stroking over each of the peaks with his thumbs before sliding his hands lower to her hips.

"I like it when you wear skirts," he murmured.

"So you've said."

"I’m not sure I like you wearing one this short to school."

"It's not that short."

He gathered the skirt up with his fists, it didn't take long. "Short enough" he murmured.

He slid a hand inside of her panties and she heard him curse softly when he grazed her clit with the pads of his fingers. She let out a surprised cry at her body's reaction. She let her head fall back against the door and groaned as he slid his hand lower, a fingertip pressing inside of her.

"I," she murmured. "Oh," she said with a soft hiss when he slid it further inside of her. A dozen thoughts were going through her head, stopping him wasn't one of them.

"Look at me, Claire," he whispered, thrusting his finger deep inside of her. She did. She didn't have any choice really. He kissed her, his other hand caressing her breast while she clutched his neck.

"I will defend myself and you to the best of my abilities. If that means taking another's life, breaking every law you hold dear, I will do it without batting an eyelash. Us or them," he slid his finger almost completely out of her. "I will choose us every time. I will choose you every time. Do you understand that?" She gasped, swallowing hard as he slid two fingers inside of her.

"You trust me, you know I had legitimate reasons, or you would not be here with me now. Not like this. And I will not allow anyone to take this away from me. From us."

She nodded, suddenly a little embarrassed by her reaction to him. She hadn't come here for this, but she wondered what had taken them so long to get to this point. She sought out his mouth, kissing him as she moved against his fingers. He alternated between deep penetration and barely grazing her lips.

He gathered her legs up and gave a groan when she was pressed against him. She felt how hard he was and knew this was her last chance to say no. Instead, she worked the zipper on his jeans, hands shaking ever so slightly. It wasn't every day she did this type of thing, and she suspected doing this with him meant there was no going back.

She took him into her hand, listening to his queues - some more coherent than others - as far as what to do. How to stroke him. How to make him even harder than he was. She met his gaze, saw that passion, that emotion she always had the feeling was directed solely at her and went stupidly mushy inside.

He slid inside of her then and she cried out, which made him stop for a second. She grazed his neck with her nails and bit his lower lip, drawing blood in both places as he slid deeper. Not that it mattered, he'd heal. The pain she felt was gone in a matter of seconds. She wondered briefly if it would be like that every time.

She'd never envisioned her first time being fully clothed with her back against a door. She certainly hadn't pictured it coming after finding out the guy in question had murdered people. She'd come here to argue and she wasn't sure what she'd hoped to gain out of the argument. For him to leave her alone? For him to do exactly what he'd done? Declare that he would stop at nothing to defend her or himself?

"Hold on," he murmured into their kiss and she did just that. He moved them then, walking with him still inside of her to the bedroom where he settled her on the edge of the bed. His bed was one of those four-poster deals and she always felt like the mattress was too high up when she slept with him.

Now though, with him standing at the edge of the bed in perfect position to still be inside of her she appreciated the bed's height. She wrapped her legs around his as he leaned toward her, chest to chest and gathered her hands in his. He drew them up and over her head.

He gave a muffled groan against her mouth, releasing one of her hands to reach between their bodies and stroke her clit. As his thrusts slowed, her orgasm built until she clamped her legs around his with all her might, riding it out. And then he did it again before pulling out of her. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them. She watched, entranced as he did. His wicked smile told her he knew exactly what she was feeling just then.

"I guess I owe Peter my gratitude yet again."

"Huh?"

"Evidently anger turns you on."

"Well, they say make-up sex is the best kind."

"Sweetheart, that wasn't make-up sex."

"It wasn't?"

"No, but if you're quite done being upset with me I will gladly give you a taste of it."

"What was that then?"

"That was she's angry and I don't know how else to prove my point sex."

"And there's a difference?"

"Most definitely."

"I think I might need proof."

"Allow me to demonstrate then." He ran his hands along her upper body, sitting her up so he could remove the sweater and bra. "First I need you actually on the bed."

"I am on the bed. You're the one that's not."

He smiled. "I mean fully as I will be joining you."

"Oh," she said.

"See the key to make-up sex. So I've been told anyway, I've never actually experienced it myself. As really who could be upset with me enough to fight with me?"

"Go figure."

"Exactly."

"So the key?"

"I believe it's something along the lines of no stone unturned and incredibly long and slow."

"Really?"

"So I've been led to believe. Care to try it out?"

"Do we have to argue again first?"

"I don't think so."

"There are still things…"

He slid a finger to her lips. "I know, Claire, and we will talk I promise you. Let me enjoy what you've just given me and do my best to ensure you do not regret the path you've embarked us on."

"Just one question."

"All right."

"That do anything thing. Does that include my family?"

"If you wish."

"I do," she reached for him then. "I don’t know what I'd do if something happened to my mom or dad or Lyle."

"Then how can I say no?"

"Thank you."