She snuck through the living room, hardly daring to take a breath in case the serial killer - whose home she was invading - heard her. Stepping on a creaky bit of floor, she cursed herself, her job and her burgeoning curiosity about the resident of apartment 37G, known by most of the world as Sylar.

Making her way across the potential minefield of noisy floorboards and invisible debris, she aimed for what she assumed was the bathroom, her goal being to complete the easier part of her mission before confronting the more difficult and probably deadly aspect of her reason for being where she was. As she stepped over the dark shadow cast by some object of clothing or such, a gentle glowing caught her eye. The young woman bent down and tugged the book-shaped object out from beneath the half-filled glass of water that was resting on it. It was a book and a modern one at that, clearly due to the LED screen which flashed and swirled when she opened it to display what was apparently the last page to have been viewed. The piercing gaze which glared out at her set her heartbeat racing with fear. She analysed the face which lay on the page before her. The strong eyebrows and unkempt beard and hair framed a face which was both compelling and unsettling. She had seen this man before, in historical records mainly, but there weren't any pictures available to the public which allowed such precise detail to emerge. She stroked her finger across the screen, flicking to the left. The next page was filled with scrawled notes squeezed between columns of endless data. Scanning it, she realised that she was holding a databook filled with information on the person who was also the subject of her mission. Curious as to what it could tell her about the man she was always taught to fear, she began reading a paragraph titled 'Initial Psychological Profile by NB'. Engrossed, she sat without looking up on the nearest sofa, knocking a pile of old-style CDs to the floor with an echoing shatter.

Frozen, she cursed her clumsiness, until a deep voice from the adjacent room made her jump yet again. "I knew you were in here, but honestly, you're the worst spy I've ever had break into my apartment." The low rumble of a chuckle emphasised his assuredness. "Why are you reading my databook by the way? I only have one, and I recognised the glow from under the door when you turned it on."

Unsure as to whether her life was about to be ended, she resolved to die with her pride as intact as she could get it.

"You're an intriguing person Mr Gray. Surely you of all people can understand an unrelenting sense of curiosity. I was wrong to be here, yet I'm driven to try to understand the thoughts behind what the history books." Politely she reasoned with the voice, hoping the stories were true and that this murderer was retired. She stepped toward the room from which the voice was emanating from. Reaching the door she pushed it open, a look of sheepish regret plastered across her face as she looked in to find a most unexpected scene before her.

The same eyes from the image which had enraptured her earlier bore into hers with an expression of entertained irritation as their owner lounged practically naked on what appeared to be his bed, his lower body covered only by lightly tousled sheets.

She looked away, cheeks burning with a combination of embarrassment and... she didn't know WHAT emotions were churning through her. "Sorry." The word burst from her mouth as she buried her face in her arms, completely terrified and utterly mortified. The man chuckled again. It seemed he didn't want to kill her. For now.

"Curiosity you say?"

"Yes."

"Intriguing too?"

"Yes." She replied, hoping he might be persuaded to merely turn her in to the law.

From behind her, she heard him take a long breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling fast. She snuck a peek back at him, restricting her gaze to the smug grin on the man's face. It broadened and he raised an eyebrow tauntingly and gestured to the pile of fabric which he was resting on. "Well? Getting in?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean... It's... NO!" Blushing again, she hid her eyes yet again, utterly disconcerted.

Her ears pricked up as the shuffle of moving sheets reached them. Tensing, she bit her lip, shifted uneasily and finally looked up in the direction of the body heat she felt at her side. Gabriel Gray stood there, wrapped in nothing but his bed sheets, arms outstretched in what seemed like surrender and a bemused expression spread over his lips and eyes. "Fine then. What would you like to talk about first?" He plodded down on the floor beside her and crossed his legs in a jovial, schoolboy-like fashion.

She was rendered speechless.