"Now Here Was Something To Do"

By GoldenGait

Disclaimer: Heroes and everything connected to it belongs to people other than me. Vera's mine, but she plays well with others and I rent her out. For a fee. ;-)

Author's Note: This idea came to me after I got beaned in the back of the head by something I didn't see coming because like most people, my eyes are in the front.

Takes place after 2x11 Powerless.

Part 1

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Sylar sat for a long time in the alley, the empty spinach can still gripped in his hand. The sun began to set, and still he sat, quiet and contemplative. He had no immediate plans, no pressing engagements, and taking a moment to sit and run through his newly returned powers seemed like the right thing to do. He froze the can, he heated the can. He melted the can, and it ran in streams through his fingers and splashed to the ground. He listened to the sounds of the city around him, noisy and constant.

With a crash, a door to Sylar's right flew open and a girl stumbled out. Harsh music followed her until the door swung closed, dulling the noise. She put one hand out to steady herself against the dirty building and after a moment she seemed to get her bearings. She pushed off and walked slowly and deliberately away from Sylar in the direction of the brightly lit street beyond, wiping her hands on her torn jeans.

She'd only made it a few unsteady steps before the door swung open again with a metallic clang and another burst of noisy music. A man emerged and called out to the girl. "Hey, precious, where you going? I thought we were getting along great?"

"Leave me alone," the girl mumbled, not turning around.

"Y'know it's not nice to string a guy along—you know you ran my tab up over a hundred bucks with those drinks I bought you? And now you think you're leaving?"

Sylar watched as the man approached the girl. She stopped and regarded him with an annoyed and slightly bored look on her face.

"Listen, do yourself a favor and go home," she said, brushing her dark hair back from her eyes and wobbling a bit. "I'm so not in the mood for this."

"I don't care what you're in the mood for, honey," the man said and took a few more steps toward her.

"Fine. Your choice." She took a deep breath, and with a shudder, a pulse seemed to run through her whole body, and she seemed to disappear and reappear in the same second, shifted forward a few inches. Sylar would have missed it had he blinked. It was as if she had jumped forward so fast it was impossible to catch the motion. As it happened, the air around her seemed to ripple and discolor slightly.

The disruption sent her attacker flying backwards into the side of the building so hard Sylar was sure he heard something break. The man landed in an ungainly tangle of limbs in a pile of trash bags that had overflowed from a nearby dumpster and didn't move.

Sylar looked back toward the girl, only to find she was already halfway down the alley, still stumbling, and if possible, looking more annoyed than before.

Sylar stood slowly. Now here was something to do.

Sylar followed the girl at a distance for a few blocks before she began digging through her pockets for her keys, and eventually she maneuvered her way up a short flight of stairs to an apartment door. As she let herself in and the door began to swing closed behind her, Sylar moved two fingers and sent a discarded newspaper to wedge the door open. He crept up the stairs after her and eased silently through the door, making sure it clicked closed this time. As he moved quickly up the stairs, he could hear her perfectly, her keys working in a lock accompanied by slurred curses. Suddenly the scraping of keys stopped, and there was a dull thud on the landing directly above Sylar. He took the rest of the stairs two at a time and found himself staring down at the girl, slumped against a door with a set of keys dangling from one hand. Her dark make-up was smudged and she reeked of alcohol.

Sylar smiled at how easy this was going to be. He lifted the keys from her hand and the second one he tried swung the door open to reveal a small, cluttered apartment. The girl slid to the ground with a soft groan as the door opened, and Sylar reached down to grab her. With hands under her arms, he dragged her into the dark apartment. The door swung closed without being touched.

Sylar placed the girl on her sofa and took a moment to look around the apartment. There was a small bedroom to his right, and otherwise the space seemed to consist of one room, with a make-shift kitchen along one wall and too much furniture in the middle. There was a broken coffee table, an old couch, countless bookshelves, and over everything lay piles of papers and clothing. There was a musty smell from too many dishes in the sink, and an over-exuberant radiator in the corner made the whole place so warm it was stifling.

Sylar turned his attention back to the girl. Lifting one hand, he extended his finger toward her head.

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GG