"'Subdue' You"

By GoldenGait

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, they belong to Tim Kring, Heroes, and NBC, and probably lots of other people, too, but basically just not me.

Author's note: Now that real life has taken a blessed hiatus for awhile, I'm free to return to wasting a considerable amount of time on Heroes-related activities. In addition to a couple more stories in the works I'm currently putting together a website with all of my Heroes episode reviews on it. Check out my profile for the link.

This is just a little oneshot, I really don't see myself adding a backstory or any sequels. All season I've been interested in seeing what would happen if Elle got ahold of Sylar and vice versa, so this little guy picks up where 2x10 Truth and Consequences leaves off. Just imagine Mohinder called The Company and asked them to send someone to sort out the waiting Sylar in his apartment, and you'll be right where you need to be.

------------------------

Sylar sat quietly in Mohinder's apartment. To an outside observer, he might have looked lost in thought, but while his eyes were directed at Maya's lifeless body on the floor at his feet, he didn't really see her. His eyes were unfocused, seeming to stare past her. Sylar was glad to have her power, but the child's, Molly's, had been an unexpected and wonderful bonus, and he was having more fun playing with hers than Maya's. He would have to thank the professor for writing such a thorough set of instructions for the injectable cure that Molly had been 'persuaded' to tell him about. He really didn't even need Mohinder anymore, but he felt a visit was in order; just a short reunion to update him on the current situation.

Hearing a noise behind him, Sylar shot to his feet, his hand out-stretched and ready to attack. The atlas on his lap hit the floor and slapped closed, forgotten. Mohinder wasn't going to be back for hours, and Sylar hadn't been expecting anyone in particular in the meantime, but it definitely wasn't a pretty, petit blonde leaning against the door frame and smiling. "Hi. I'm Elle." She took a few steps into the room and shut the door carefully behind her. "And you're the famous Sylar. Nice to see you again."

With a mocking hand to his chest, Sylar stood to face Elle. "I'm famous? I'm flattered."

Elle smiled coyly. "You're pretty well-known in the circles I run in." She looked down at her feet and scuffed the carpet with a perfect black pump. "So… how should we do this?"

"You're here to—what?" Sylar asked, his face serene but unreadable. "Take me in? Kill me?"

Elle smiled and nodded. "I'm supposed to 'subdue' you." She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the door. "But sometimes I get a little carried away, so we'll just have to wait and see about the 'killing' part," she said.

Sylar crossed his arms and looked at Elle in amusement. "Well… you're not scary at all, are you? They must be running out of good guys." He took a few steps toward her, and continued to look her up and down. "Were you the best they could send? Did they really think a ninety-five pound Malibu Barbie would be able to stop me?" He leaned in, his hands flat on the door on either side of her face, his head tilted as if he were about to kiss her. "What gift did you bring me?"

"Gift…?" Elle asked, batting her eyelashes.

"The power I'll be taking from you shortly…what is it?" Sylar clarified, his eyes locked on her forehead, imaging the line he'd cut across it.

"Well, among other things…" Elle paused and gave an innocent look. "Getting men to underestimate me." With a quick spark from both hands, Elle gave Sylar a brief but vicious shock, sending him stumbling backwards.

He shook his head, wide-eyed. His heart raced and he felt too warm for comfort. "I bet you like doing that," he said, trying to shake it off.

"It is a fun game," Elle replied, nodding her head. "When you have someone you can play with." She began to walk the edge of the room, trailing her hands along the various piles of paper and knick-knacks. "I assume this is Maya here on the floor," she said, pointing, but not looking directly at her, "but where have you stashed Molly?" Elle stopped pacing and gave an exasperated sigh, folding her hands in front of her. "I kinda promised my dad I'd bring her back, too. He'll be really mad if I forgot half the people I was sent for."

"Your father sent you?" Sylar asked.

"Mmm-hmm. But seriously, we should get going, so where's the little girl?" Elle said, crinkling her nose.

Sylar stood in silence for a moment before tossing Elle up against the wall behind her with a gesture. She cried out as she hit the wall hard, but when she shook her hair back from her face Sylar could see she was smiling in satisfaction. "Hey cowboy, give a girl some warning before you go and do something like that."

Sylar walked toward Elle, quite confused by her demeanor. "You're really not what I expected tonight," he said.

"Is that so? You order a redhead or something?"

"Did Mohinder send you here?" Sylar asked, changing the subject. "I was hoping to talk to him before I left. We're old friends." Sylar stood, holding Elle up with one palm. "Actually, I just wanted to see his face when he found Molly's body. I'm sure it's going to be priceless."

"Well, all you've got is me, I'm afraid," Elle answered. "And if you don't let me down from here I'm going to get a little testy, especially now that you've gone and killed half of my assignment." She paused, looking at Sylar honestly. "I'm here to bring you in. This can be as easy or as painful as you'd like… and I'm not sure you'd be totally on board with my preference." She shot him a mischievous grin.

"Maybe you don't know me very well."

"Maybe I know everything there is to know about you, Gabriel." Sylar regarded her silently through narrowed eyes. "And maybe," Elle continued, "you're still underestimating me."

Elle shot tandem jolts out of both palms toward Sylar. He raised his hands to ward off the attack, but was only successful in deflecting one stream, which seemed to ricochet away from him, hitting a trashcan and lighting the contents on fire. The other caught his shoulder, twisting him sideways into Mohinder's desk as the shock blew through him. It felt like his heart had forgotten its rhythm and his muscles twitched, itching to fire without his permission. Sylar squeezed his eyes closed, gave a violent shake of his head, and tried to force the frantic feeling from himself. He did not appreciate this—the feeling was very invasive, and after two doses he was determined this firecracker wouldn't get a third chance.

Elle had dropped from the wall to the floor, momentarily forgotten. She moved swiftly toward Sylar, the princess façade gone, sparks gathering in her palms. He noticed her just as she reached out to grab him, and he caught her hands in his, stopping her in her tracks. She just smiled. "Medium, or well-done?" she asked in a low voice.

Sylar gave a short, quiet laugh. "I prefer my meat rare." He pulled her toward himself and whispered in her ear, "Practically bloody."

Elle felt the energy leave her hands as Sylar's grip cooled to a painful, icy cold. With growing panic, she began to struggle against his grasp, but he held firm. The cold was unbearable as she lost all sensation in her hands. She watched in horror as her hands turned white, then almost blue, and the color began to drain from her arms. "Stop!" she cried.

Sylar finally released her, and Elle staggered back, bent over her frozen hands. "What did you do…?" she shrieked, horrified. Leaning against the wall, she slid down to the ground. Her hands felt heavy and foreign.

"Your father—whoever he is—obviously doesn't care much about you if he sent you after me all by yourself… Did he really expect you to succeed? Or even come back at all?" Sylar sneered.

Elle looked up at Sylar viciously, breathing hard from her position on the floor. "Still underestimating me… I only prefer to use my hands because I can aim better with them." She pushed herself up, using the wall behind her. "But they're not entirely necessary." With a pulse that seemed to run through her whole body, hot blue streams of electricity shot from Elle in every direction, throwing Sylar across the apartment and slamming him into a wall.

After a moment Elle opened her eyes and took in the damage. The walls were scarred and smoking, with a few small fires licking at various objects around the room. Sylar sat slumped on the ground where he had fallen, a blistered burn across his face.

Looking down at her hands, she found she could move them, but she hissed with pain at the attempted motion. The color had returned, but now they were an angry red, heated too quickly after being so cold. "Damn it!" she yelled, rolling her eyes in frustration. Her father would no doubt see this injury as another sign of her incompetence. Plus, they hurt like hell.

But she'd gotten what she came for.

------------------

So the voices aren't perfect this time around, but I'm okay with that. I just really wanted to put this scene on paper. Or… into a Word document. You know what I mean. But as always, please R&R, people! You know I like it… And check out my profile for info about my site if you're into lengthy, detailed episode reviews.

GG