She wouldn’t have predicted the small mushroom man for Mohinder’s racer; then again, she knew very little of what the man was like in person. So often, descriptions on paper didn’t do a soul justice; she had a feeling he was one of those cases. His files hadn’t even touched on his obvious generous nature. It’d be interesting to get to know someone in person and not have to kill them, for once.
Glancing briefly at Mohinder after he spoke, Claire tilted her head. “What language is it, anyway? What dialect?” She could only count English, French, and Latin among her own repertoire, and though she could identify a few others, she didn’t understand them. It sounded heavenly rolling off his tongue, however, and she couldn’t say she minded. His grin made her wonder what he’d said–he hadn’t smiled that big since she arrived–but she didn’t ask. Right now, she was focused on winning. Or at least knocking him off the track a few times.
Claire shook her head. “I’ve never really played any video game before,” she admitted, completely honestly. “My brother and I had considerable other diversions growing up.” And it was true–between their lessons for everything from calculus to fencing and the various social clubs they’d been a part of, there had been little interest or time left over for video games. Or friends, really for that matter. It hadn’t hit her until their second lap through–she'd knocked him off the edge twice now–that this was the closest she’d gotten to any normal kind of relationship with a person in her adult life. There were no ulterior motives on her part, no information to be extracted or services to be rendered, and he’d been inviting entirely of his own accord. It was a free give and take, the laughter, the ease of things…was that what friendship was? It was a sobering idea to realize that the only real friend she had was her brother, and only then because of their circumstances. Truth be told, it made her a little sad, and she frowned.
Meandering through her own thoughts, she only just managed to stop Bowser from falling off the edge of the course, inadvertently taking the shortcut that Mohinder had mentioned. "Oops…“ she breathed, looking over briefly as Mohinder began taking off the outer bits of his clothing. Claire was torn between grinning predator-like and making a comment, and letting it slide entirely: work and play, work and play…to separate them or not…she settled on an appreciative smirk before bringing her eyes back to the game. Blatant flirting could come later; she was content with enjoying this for the time being, despite her earlier teasing with her underthings.
She fell off the shortcut at least twice before making it, both times drawing a muttered ’merde’ from her lips. She could see the little mushroom man on her own screen; they were neck and neck for this last home stretch. Leaning forward, Claire bit her lower lip as they neared the end of the race.