just a one shot, occurs pre series heroes and season two episode 4ish pushing daisies, so watch out for some spoilers on both shows, swear words, brutal killing, cliche phrases and abundant alliteration.

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Ned went about clearing up his pie shop after a busy day. There had not been more customers than usual, but it had been busy all the same. Ned had become quite accustomed to his two fond female friends handling his hungry clients however, today both women had been otherwise occupied and Ned had to balance both baking, serving and order taking in a way he hadn't needed to very often.

Never the less, closing time was within sight and Ned was very much looking forward to the bed in his flat. His empty flat, as of yesterday, when his girlfriend had decided to move out of his rooms, and into those of his employee. He was in fact a bit preoccupied by this development and had been all day.

The move was the very reason that the two women were absent today, because Olive had decided that this was the perfect opportunity to redecorate her apartment and she absolutely had to have Chuck come along with her to pick things out because she would be living there too after all, and it was only fair that she have equal input on such important issues. Chuck had jumped right on the band wagon of course, and Ned found it quite impossible to prevent them from shopping when presented with two pairs of potent puppy dog eyes.

So they had shopped and Ned had simply had to work without them.

The day could have gone worse, Ned decided, as one last customer darkened the doorway in the very last half hour of business.

\^/

"Hi there! Welcome to the Pie Hole. Is there something you know you want or can I get you a menu?"

It was a very cheerful greeting, easy to respond in kind to as the man stood wiping down the counter top of his pie bar.

"Are you by any chance serving a slice of apple with a scoop of ice cream?"

"Yes sir should still be hot."

"Then that's what I'll have." Sylar ordered smiling, as he took a seat at the bar. He gazed around at the decor as though seeing it for the first time while his target went around in the kitchen preparing his order. There had been many spectacular reviews about this place that Sylar had glazed over during his research, and he enjoyed the excuse to play with his victim beforehand. Really, this just sweetened the deal.

"Here you are sir, one slice of apple pie, ice cream on the side."

"It looks terrific, thank you." Sylar had to admit it was a picturesque pie, and it smelled like heaven.

Actually, the entire day had been had been completely pleasant, and he could already see this murder going off without a hitch. Only a few days ago, Sylar had been somewhat reluctant to venture into the idyllic town to commit murder, it was a long drive out to the coast after all. Initial internet research had indicated nothing out of the ordinary, not that there was anything unusual about that. Nobody with powers seemed to want to make a spectacle of themselves, a couple of his earlier victims hadn't even had the opportunity to realize that something had changed for them. But none of the names Dr. Suresh had managed to dig up had been busts, and after arriving in the sickening-sweet town of Coeur d'Coeurs, Sylar knew for a fact that this Pie Maker had one hell of a trick up his sleeve.

Other than making the best goddamned pies on the planet.

Day one of staking out the Pie Hole had been oddly fruitful.

He had picked up a very secretive conversation with his enhanced hearing between the Pie Maker and one Mr. Emerson Cod, who had been swiftly Googled and revealed as a local private investigator that had apparently been making a suspiciously high arrest rate in his recent murder cases.

One of those murder cases being the death of Miss Charlotte Charles, who to all appearances was helping out at the Pie Hole, completely alive, operating under the moniker Chuck, and very much in the habit of kissing his target through a sheet of plastic wrap.

During the breaking and entering phase at Ned's apartment that day Sylar only encountered a very friendly dog, and no evidence of superpowers whatsoever.

Upon breaking into the Pie Hole late that night Sylar came upon nothing but restaurant business in the office and nothing but rotted fruits carefully shelved in the freezer. Odd fruits indeed.

It was strange, quite unexpected, but it fit together and it made his day.

\^/

Ned was busy wiping down tables and putting up chairs, it is understandable that he didn't notice the wicked smile occupying his final customer's face as the tall man sat there eating his pie. The one hungry looking leer that Ned did pick up on was passed off as some combination of possible sexual attraction and side effects of delicious pie. It's not like that sort of thing had never happened before after all, and Ned knew from experience that the best thing to do in such a situation was to act as though he hadn't seen any staring at all.

So Ned continued sweeping up the floors in his nearly silent bakery and the serial killer continued savoring his pie and ice cream.

The Pie Maker was completely oblivious to this fact of course. Despite his growing resume of assisting in the capture of killers, he didn't have near enough know how to spot the one currently enjoying his wares, and he did have the mostly depressing situation with his girlfriend weighing heavily on his mind to distract him.

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Necromancy.

Even though Sylar could think of little personal use for the skill given his prerogative to enact the opposite, it was too great an opportunity to pass by.

The ability to wake the dead. And presumably a way to 'kill' them again, if the lack of zombie activity was any indication. Probably a touch based system if the avoidance of skin contact between the Pie Maker and the Dead Girlfriend wasn't just some strange fetish.

It was completely brilliant, and it was going to be his. Time to get this show on the road.

\^/

"So how does your power work?"

...

"Excuse me?"

"I understand, you probably keep the whole 'superpower' thing very secret, but I promise I'm not gonna sell your story to the media. I don't even work for the government, if that's what you're worried about. I just," Sylar paused for effect, making sure to saturate his next words with some appropriately sincere emotion "wanted to meet someone else like me."

"I'm sorry sir, but I really don't know what you are talking about and I'm going to -" There was a floating chair in the Pie Hole. Right in front of him, it just floated right up past him. Now the chair was doing cartwheels. All on its own. Ned dropped down stunned, into one of the stationary, gravity-affected seating apparatus that was luckily nearby.

The chair settled itself on solid ground once again, and the silence seemed suddenly so much louder. Ned snapped his disbelieving gaze from the acrobatic chair to the other man in the room, who was clearly smothering his laughter at Ned's expense.

"So?"

Ned was slowly processing, going from shock to apparent confusion, settling on tentative curiosity. "You... actually did that?"

"Yup." His P popped smugly.

"How?"

"All I have to do is think about it and it just happens. Doesn't your power work the same way?" Sylar carefully injected curiosity and confusion into his question. It wasn't important to have the answer, he would discover all facets of this man's powers for a fact soon enough, but it was part of the game.

"You can control it?"

"You can't?" It was as much a statement as it was a question for all the surprise it gave Sylar. The undefined intense emotion behind Ned's blurted question left no room for lies. It was an unexpected result to his probe, however. Sylar knew Ned was using his power, it was obvious, and he had to be controlling it somehow -

"No. I don't know how it works. Or why it happens. And I can never turn it off!"

Ah. Looked like the game was over now, Ned wasn't going to start sharing any more deep dark secrets with some surreptitious stranger, not when he was so upset. The Pie Maker was a carefully controlled man by nature. Even if you got him all wound up, he wasn't the type to spill the beans, he was the kind of man who clammed up and showed you the door.

"Well, at least you were lucky enough to turn it on." With no further ado Sylar's telekinesis grabbed hold of Ned and pinned him down on the counter top. "Don't worry, this is going to hurt a lot, but it'll all be over before you know it."

\^/

Pain. Holy fucking shit this hurt. It felt like his forehead was being cut open. What the fuck?!

A fountain of red. Blood. That was his blood spurting up into the air, falling back down onto his face, into his eyes.

Screaming. The wordless sounds of pain and rage roaring from his throat.

Can't move.

Can't fight.

Can't see.

Laughter. Cold, cruelly amused chuckles coming from his customer come killer.

Shit.

\^/

Sylar couldn't keep the grin off his face. It was indescribable. Every time he looks at a brain with powers it's the same, he doubts the experience will ever lose its novelty. The brains of normal people just didn't hold the same charm, he knows, he's checked, he's practically an expert by now. It was still endlessly fascinating, how these exquisite lumps of grey matter could contain the mechanisms behind such incredible abilities, each one a different function, another part of the brain, a new configuration full of potential.

Totally worth the mess.

\^/

Soon the Pie Hole stands empty; the serial killer vacated the fresh murder scene quickly. The door is left unlocked and the lights are left on. Half of a skull has rolled haphazardly on the floor, while the rest of the cranium spills out its contents on the counter. Blood is spattered across the tiles and chairs. Though his plate and fork are cleaned carefully of fingerprints, Sylar doesn't see much point in clearing up after himself.