Title: Let's Do Lunch

Summary: Post-"Shadowboxing" with S4 spoilers up to and including the episode. Peter keeps having setbacks in trying to get Emma to have lunch with him. Will he ever succeed? First two parts are intended to be somewhat humorous.

-Part One-

Noah Bennett, Washington D.C.

Bennett's cell phone rang shrilly in his apartment. He answered on the first ring. "Hello."

"Noah?"

"Peter. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

He sensed Petrelli's hesitation on the other end. Then, Peter mumbled, "I need some advice."

"About what?" Noah asked, wondering if Peter was thinking of purchasing a handgun or taking Japanese lessons.

"There's a girl…a woman, and I want to impress her."

Bennett felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to talk to about this," he managed to say. "I'm divorced, remember? Eating cereal for dinner—alone?"

"I know, I know," the paramedic hurriedly said. "But, you were married for awhile, right? You must have done something right. And, well, there's no one else I can really…talk to…about this."

Bennett sighed, thinking of Nathan, and how Peter's words were even truer than the man himself knew. "All right, this is what I would do…."

Mercy Heights Hospital, New York City

Peter checked his hair in the men's room mirror one last time. Making sure every lock of his hair was slicked back into place, he left the restroom and strode towards Emma's office. He straightened the cuffs of his shirtsleeves as he walked, then forced his arms to his sides as he entered her office.

She looked up when he came in, her lips curving into a surprised grin at his appearance.

Peter cleared his throat. "I was hoping we could have that lunch."

Emma stared at him, her eyes wide with amusement. "What are you wearing?"

He glanced down at the charcoal-gray, two-piece suit he wore with a light blue dress shirt underneath. "What? It's just a suit. I can wear a suit." His voice grew higher with defensiveness, and he was grateful Emma couldn't hear it.

She nodded in agreement. "But I've never seen you wear one before," she pointed out. "Why the change?"

He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "A friend suggested I wear it." His nervousness was apparent as he asked his next question. "Do you like it?"

"You look very handsome," she complimented.

"So, about that lunch…?" he began hopefully.

Suddenly, Hesam stuck his head in through Emma's doorway. "Peter! There you are, man! C'mon, they just said there's a fire on Lexington. We gotta go." He started to leave, then did a double take. "What are you wearing?"

Peter ignored the question this time. "Give me five minutes," he requested, already starting to pull off his jacket.

"You've got two," Hesam warned him before taking off to the ambulance bay.

Peter glanced wildly at Emma, an unspoken question in his eyes.

"Go," she told him.

Silently cursing his luck, Peter ran out of her office to go change into his work clothes.

-*-*-*-

-Part Two-

Angela Petrelli, Manhattan

Angela had just slipped a pair of socks into her purse when her cell phone rang. Pulling the phone out of her bag, she let it ring one more time before answering.

"Yes?"

"Mom? It's me."

"Peter. I'm glad you called. I thought you might want to try having breakfast again."

"Uh, sure, maybe next week," he said quickly before changing the subject. "Listen, Mom, I have a question."

"Well, spit it out then. What is it?"

"How do I get a woman to have lunch with me?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Have you tried asking her?"

He held back an annoyed sigh at her condescension. "I have. Twice. Neither time went so well."

"Ah, you need to sweeten the offer then. Buy her something. Preferably something expensive."

"I don't know…" her son said hesitantly.

"You wanted my advice, didn't you? I've given it to you. Whether you take it or not is up to you. Now, I need to pay for my things. Goodbye, sweetheart." She clicked her phone shut, then proceeded to the cashier.

Mercy Heights Hospital, New York City

Emma walked into her office later that morning to be greeted by vases of flowers. They had been placed all around her office—on the floor, on top of her file cabinet, one was even perched precariously on a stack of folders.

She found a note nestled in the first vase of flowers she looked at. It read, "Emma, Still hoping we can have that lunch. Peter."

Emma smiled at the gesture, but then she sniffed and started to sneeze. It was too bad she was allergic to flowers.

At that moment, Peter stopped by her office. He took one look at the sneezing file clerk, heaved a sigh, and began carrying the flowers out of her office without a word.

-*-*-*-

-Part Three-

Claire Bennett, Arlington University

Claire hesitated, then dialed Peter's home phone number. She needed to talk to someone about Gretchen's departure, someone who wasn't her dad, and Peter seemed like the best choice. She waited expectantly for his answering machine to pick up, ready to leave him a message. From what her dad had told her, her uncle had been unusually focused on his job lately, so she was surprised when she heard Peter answer the phone.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Peter, hi. It's Claire. I'm kind of surprised I caught you. I thought you'd be at work by now."

"Hey, Claire. No, I'm trying to take it a little easier these days. What's up?"

"Um, I wanted to talk to you. Is now a good time?"

"Now's fine. What is it?"

"My roommate, Gretchen. She left to go back home. I…I miss her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But, you'll probably get a new roommate, right? I mean, these things happen…"

"No, they don't," she said vehemently. "Gretchen left because some girl who can turn invisible was trying to kill her to hurt me and my dad."

Petrelli sighed over the phone. "I should have known this would go back to The Company somehow," she heard him mutter.

"Yeah, this girl, Becky, wanted revenge on my dad for killing her own father when she was little. She scared Gretchen away, and—Peter, Gretchen was my only friend here. The only real friend I've had in a long time. I told her what I could do. I told her about my dad, about how crazy my life has been for the past three years. And now she's gone."

Her uncle was silent for a minute before speaking again. "I'm sorry, Claire. I know it's difficult. You're hurting. I get that." He paused, then added, "I've met someone too. We've become friends, and I…want to get closer to her. But, it's like every time I try--"

"Something gets in the way?" Claire finished.

"Yeah," Peter said with a sigh.

The blonde smiled sadly to herself as she remembered something Gretchen had once said to her. "Maybe you're strange attractors."

"What?"

"It has to do with physics. Gretchen explained it to me." Claire frowned, trying to remember how her roommate had phrased it. "Everything in the universe has its own magnetic charge, and sometimes, two particles come together that aren't supposed to. But when they are together, they become even stronger than when they're apart. Maybe you and your friend are better together than you are apart, but you just aren't meant to be. Like me and Gretchen."

"Maybe you're right," Peter said slowly. "Maybe I've been trying too hard."

Now it was Claire's turn to sigh. "Sorry I'm being such a downer."

The paramedic chuckled. "That's okay," he assured her. "Why don't we change the subject? How's your first year at college going? I mean, besides having to save your roommate from attempted murder?"

Claire laughed and began filling her uncle in on the "normal" aspects of her college life.

-*-*-*-

-Part Four-

Mercy Heights Hospital, New York City

Peter sat himself down on a chair in a hallway. He had just healed three victims in a car crash, allowing them to pull through. Now, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, his skin pale and clammy with sweat, the effects of his healing ability draining out of him. He propped his elbows on his thighs, interlaced his fingers together and rested his forehead against them. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. He didn't know how long he had been sitting like that before he felt someone's hand on his shoulder.

He raised his head and found Emma standing before him. She took the seat next to him, concern evident on her face as she stared at him.

"Hey," he greeted.

"You're working too hard," she observed.

Peter waved her off. "No, they need my help," he argued.

Just then, the double doors from the emergency room swung open, and a line of stretchers began to be wheeled in. "We need to get these people into the OR now!" a nurse commanded.

Peter got to his feet, ready to save more lives, but his body couldn't take the strain anymore. No sooner had he risen, then his legs buckled out from under him, and he collapsed to the floor. Horrified, Emma cradled his head and frantically called his name.

She got no response, and a nurse who had seen Petrelli collapse soon had the unconscious paramedic taken to a hospital room.

A doctor examined him, pronouncing the cause of Peter's collapse to be exhaustion. They hooked him up to an IV to give him fluids and then let him rest.

Emma stayed with him, waiting for him to wake up. After a few hours, she saw his eyes slowly open as he regained consciousness.

"Emma?" he asked, his voice groggy. He tried to sit up, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "What happened?"

"You passed out." She looked around, then added, "You used your ability too much."

He took a breath, then let it out slowly as he stared at the ceiling. "I guess I did."

"Do you think you can eat something?"

He glanced at her. "Okay."

"I'll be right back." She left his room and soon returned with two sandwiches from the hospital cafeteria.

Peter smiled as she set the sandwiches down on the table over his bed, and then helped him sit up to eat. "So, all it took for you to have lunch with me was for me to collapse?" he said dryly.

Emma shook her head. "Today is just the first time we've been able to eat together in the last few days. Otherwise, I would have had lunch with you any time you asked me to. And it wouldn't have been because you wore a suit, or sent me flowers, or…"

"Because we were strange attractors?" Peter mumbled.

She frowned at the words she had lipread. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Please, go on."

"All you had to do to get me to say 'yes' was to be yourself."

Peter felt his cheeks flush. "Oh," he said in a small voice.

"So…" she prodded, giving their food a significant glance, "let's have lunch."

Petrelli could only nod in agreement.

The two hospital employees shared a smile and then picked up their sandwiches and began eating.