Disclaimer: I don't own any of this; it's all Heroes property.

xxx

“Peter?” Claire asked slowly. “Where’s your ice cream?”

“What ice cream?” he snapped, still sitting miserably on his loveseat, head in his hands.

“What do you mean ‘what ice cream?’ You have to have an emergency gallon for times like this!”

Peter scoffed. “Oh? Times I get rejected by beautiful women for being too decent?”

Claire maintained her grin. “Exactly.”

This did draw a slight smile out of Peter’s dejected expression. Stupid Laura, thought Claire. I should smack you for hurting Peter like this.

The perky teenager rummaged though his fridge and freezer, finding nothing that even resembled ice cream. Heck, Peter didn’t even have a quart of milk! But just as Claire was about to give up, she spotted two little things in the back of the fridge that would be ample substitutes.

Claire removed the pair of chocolate pudding cups from behind everything else, and checked the expiration dates. March 3, 2004. Three year old pudding.

She wrinkled her nose, but still got out two spoons from a drawer and headed back into the living room. Peter heard her enter and looked up.

“What do you have?” he asked flatly. Claire beamed.

“Pudding.”

“Pudding?” frowned Peter, snatching one of the cups out of her hands. “I have pudding?”

“Yeah…it’s kind of expired…but whatever. We’re indestructible, right?”

Peter checked the date. “Kind of expired? This stuff is older than you!” 

Claire glared and stuck up her nose. “Is not,” she said defensively. “Now stop complaining and eat it.” She handed him a spoon, and he reluctantly opened up the plastic cover on top of the pudding cup.

“Ugh…there’s a layer of…olive oil on top,” he grimaced.

“It is not olive oil. Just stir it and shut up,” shrugged Claire, following her own advice.

“If I get food poisoning because of this, I swear…”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Have you ever heard of someone dying because they ate bad pudding?”

Peter had to admit, that notion was ridiculous. So, taking the ultimate plunge, he scooped up a load of lumpy custard onto his spoon, and swallowed it.

It…wasn’t so bad. The thirty month old milk in the stuff had unfortunately curdled, and Peter could feel the chocolaty bumps with his tongue. Claire, who seemed not to have a problem with the food, just giggled at his puckered expression.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he flinched, eating another spoonful quickly to get it over with.

Claire sniggered from behind her spoon. Peter tried to be angry at her, but couldn’t muster it up. On the contrary, he found a smile coming to his own lips.

When her laughter subsided, Claire took a fast breath and looked at Peter seriously.

“So…Laura…you want to talk about it?”

Peter shrugged a bit helplessly. “I dunno,” he replied, setting his pudding on the table. “Part of me wants to tell you everything, and then another part wants to keep it in and-.”

“Be emo?”

“….Okay, sure.”

Claire set her pudding aside too and covered one of his hands with hers.

“Hey,” she whispered. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. But make sure it’s not just so you can mope around and get attention.”

Peter smirked slightly. “I think thowing up this pudding will be enough to get attention, don’t you think?”

Claire chuckled. “No, because I’ll be right beside you, puking too.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds when Claire pulled her hand off of Peter’s. When he felt her skin leave his, he hastily caught her hand and looked up at her, straight in the eyes.

“Thank you for this, Claire,” he said sincerely. Claire’s cheeks warmed a bit, as well as her fingertips where he was touching her.

“No problem,” she said, acting like it was no big deal. “We had to improvise, seeing as you don’t know the rules of the emergency ice cream ritual.”

“I thought that was just a girl thing.”

Claire snorted. “Nobody likes to get dumped, Peter. It’s just like…what’s the dude term? Getting kicked in the balls?”

Peter facepalmed, sighing. Then, his face fell and he let go of Claire’s hand with a jolt. She frowned at him and he swallowed hard, cringing.

“Here comes that pudding,” he groaned, getting up and running down the hall to the bathroom sink. Claire sat in silence, feeling chocolate and bile creeping up her throat as well.

I really need to remind Peter to go buy ice cream next time, she thought, before rushing to the kitchen sink and learning that expiration dates were there for a reason.

***

Just a random ficlit that I wrote in literally, ten minutes, for my friend. I like Paire and I like pudding, so I kind of thought…I should write a story about Peter, Claire, and two Jell-O cups. And then the story just sorta.flowed out of my fingertips.

-rtwofan