May, 2007

Sylar made a show of jangling keys in front of the door of Noah Bennet's Costa Verde home. He didn't bother trying to figure out which one was the house key. He didn't need to. His ability caressed the tumblers of the lock and the door opened. Sandra was looking expectantly at the door, confirming to him the need for the little bit of showmanship. He smiled. This was so easy.

"Noah!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing home? You didn't call!"

He certainly looked like Noah Bennet, from head to toe and everywhere in between. Regeneration had fixed a few things – his eyes, healed some internal scar tissue, other minutia – but there was nothing visible to distinguish him from her husband - just as he wanted. The door swung shut behind him as though by itself as he sauntered towards her and the little fuzzball of a dog they had. "Oh," he said airily, "they just brought me in to consult. You know how things are. But I told them," he said as he walked up to her, taking her face in his hands, "that they couldn't bring me back without letting me see my lovely wife." He kissed her, gently at first, then passionately as she responded. This was so, so easy.

"Oh!" she said between kisses that became more eager with every passing moment. The dog chose that point to begin barking crazily. Sandra broke off, laughing. "Oh! Mr. Muggles! You're so jealous of your mommy, aren't you?" As she bent over to baby-talk at the dog, Sylar played with her backside that so invitingly and unintentionally protruded in his direction. She looked back at him sharply and he feigned innocent disinterest. She laughed again.

"It's been so long," he sighed, putting on an exaggerated air of pining. He knew he wasn't acting as Noah would day to day, but he also knew he didn't have to. He just had to play to her fantasies of how she might want Noah to act.

Her laughter came more easily. She stood up and pressed herself to him, grinning. "Someone must have really been missing me, then."

"I always miss you, Sandra. Whenever we're apart."

She scoffed and pushed him away. "Now I know you're playing! You hardly ever even call. I haven't heard from you since you left more than a month ago! Where've they had you?"

"All over," he said soberly, glancing down at the dog, who was sniffing around Sylar's ankles with an unsettling determination. "But I really have missed you. Can we go somewhere ..." He jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom. Not only did he want to move this along before his act had a chance to falter, but it seemed clear the mutt knew something was wrong here.

Sandra raised her brows in surprise. "You're not kidding?"

"No," he said quietly. "I've missed you. I love you. I want to be with you ..." then he smiled like the naughty boy he knew he was being, "now."

Her smile brightened her face. She extended her hand and he took it, leading her to the bedroom in a courtly manner very out of place for Noah Bennet. The dog barked, but they shut the little cur out of the bedroom, leaving him to run around the living area restlessly.

XXX

Mid-May, 2007

A different Noah Bennet received a padded envelope that had found its way to him in Tokyo. The postmark was from Costa Verde, but without a return address. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Sandra didn't know where he was, so it couldn't be her. Pinehearst, his employer for the last month, would have never sent something through this communication channel. They certainly wouldn't have done it from Costa Verde. With some trepidation, he opened it, letting the contents slide out onto the tiny desk in his cramped hotel room. It was his wife's underwear, a negligee she'd bought for herself years ago, trying to spice things up and stir his libido. It hadn't worked, but he remembered the outfit – light blue silk fabric that matched her eyes, with a fringe of lace wide enough to conceal what little weight she'd put on over the years. Noah froze, staring at it, trying to fathom what it meant. Fear curled in his gut at the possibilities. There was also a small newspaper clipping. He unfolded it, still not having touched the undergarment. The clipping recounted, in the dry, factual tone of those reporting on uninteresting current events, the fire that had gutted the old Gray & Son's shop in New York just a few weeks before.

Noah felt a cold sweat break out all over him. He'd authorized that fire. Arthur Petrelli, a fearsome man, had been pressuring everyone to bring in either of his two rogue sons – Sylar or Peter – both of whom had struck out on their own after Angela fell at the end of March. It had behooved Noah to show his loyalty to the new regime. He'd liked Peter well enough – the man had saved Claire's life when he didn't even know they were related and sided with Noah and Angela when his father clearly held the advantage. Sylar, on the other hand, had tried to kill Noah's daughter in Odessa, and later done so (albeit temporarily) at Arthur's command. Picking who to focus on had been simple.

Noah had devised a strategy to remove every possible psychological and moral support from Sylar with the intent of making him reckless and easier to manipulate. Gray & Sons seemed like the perfect place - it was Sylar's birthplace and Gabriel's birthright. The rent was prepaid and all the various 'chronographs' inside had been deactivated and partly disassembled for long-term storage, so it obviously meant a lot to Sylar. For over a month, one of Pinehearst's finest teams of specials had staked out the shuttered shop, but to no avail. Finally, Noah had suggested they burn the place down. That should bring Sylar running.

Finally, trembling fingers caressed the lace. Yes, it had indeed brought Sylar out of hiding.

XXX

September, 2007

"I'm pregnant!"

Those two words wiped every shred of the carefully rehearsed plan from Noah's mind. He had only just set down his briefcase. His suitcase stood next to the door; the longest and most grueling 'work' trip he'd ever taken was finally over. It had been months since he'd received the package in Japan. He'd been on four continents since then, dealing with all the issues unleashed as a ripple effect from Nathan Petrelli's late March announcement that exposed specials to the world and Pinehearst's subsequent hostile takeover of the Company. He'd heard nothing else of importance in regards to Sylar – a man had died in Virginia shortly after the fire in the watch shop, and a few months later a woman in California, both of whom were killed in Sylar's signature style. But there'd been nothing that related to Noah's family. A few discreet inquiries had confirmed everyone was still accounted for – Sandra was attending dog shows, Lyle was at a Tae Kwon Do camp, and Claire still wasn't answering his phone calls, but he was reliably informed she was receiving training to be a Company field agent. He'd convinced himself the negligee only meant Sylar had broken into his house and pilfered things. It was clear now that more had happened – much more. He stared at her, aghast as his mind numbly fumbled through trying to recall the last time they had sex. It had been back when they lived in Odessa, he was sure of that much.

Sandra laughed, joy bubbling in her voice. "I know! It's so exciting!" She hurried around the end of the bar and threw herself into a hug with him. Weakly, he reciprocated. "I was as surprised as you are! I only found out a few days ago." She let go, effusively continuing her explanation of events. "I'd been feeling sick off and on for a long time, but I thought I just had a stomach bug that wouldn't go away. I do have a bug! Our little bug! Isn't this wonderful? We never thought we could and we can!" There were tears in her eyes. One of them spilled down her cheek as Noah stared at her, his mouth still slightly open.

"We … can't ..." He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know what to say. He'd been so devastated by what happened with Kate that he'd had surgery so he'd never again have children who would be caught in the crossfire. The Company had given him a child anyway and Sandra had adopted a second very nearly all on her own. He'd never explained his reasons to Sandra – not about Kate, not the surgery, not the arranged marriage, nothing. Instead, he'd showed her falsified reports from an equally fake doctor that he was perfectly functional, so the problem must be hers. It had been helpful for her to believe that, but now it was inconvenient. Very, very inconvenient.

"Oh!" She laughed again, still very happy, still entirely oblivious to his state or the reasons for it. "I know Lyle will be in college before our littlest is in preschool, but I'll tell you, Noah Bennet, I am ready to be a mama again! It's perfect! Everything must have just been waiting for the right time. I was so afraid of what would happen to me when the house was empty – you with your work and me with just Mr. Muggles!" She bent down to pet the dog, baby-talking to him, "And here I was thinking I needed to get back into the dog business! Yes, I was thinking that, Mr. Muggles! I was!"

Now that he looked at her, and knowing exactly what he was looking for, he saw the change to the contour of her waist. It was slight, but she couldn't be more than three or four months along. He counted back in his mind, trying to remember milestones he'd hadn't had reason to know for nearly twenty years. His voice was distant as he asked, "It's less than twenty weeks, right?"

"Yes, just barely. I'm already almost halfway there!" She straightened to sit on one of the tall chairs next to the bar, beaming at him.

"Halfway to twenty weeks?" That didn't compute with when he'd received the package. Had Sylar made more than one … visit?

"No, I mean halfway to term, silly! I didn't go to the doctor until late. That's what I was telling you earlier! I didn't imagine. At my age!" She cocked her head at him, finally noticing his lack of enthusiasm. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh," he said weakly. The dates correlated then. There was no way the child was anyone's but Sylar's. "Well, less than twenty weeks is still good. I'm not sure about the law, but I'm pretty sure it's not too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Too late for-" Noah steeled himself. He knew this was going to be rough. "Sandra, we can't have a baby."

She blinked at him. "Noah Bennet, I am pregnant! Obviously we can have a baby!"

He stared at her. They locked eyes. She paled and the smile fell from her face as she realized what he was saying. Her shift in expression made him bold enough to say it outright. "You have to get an abortion."

She kept staring for several seconds, like he was the shape shifter. Noah's mind ran to what Sylar must have done with her and to her, perhaps repeatedly, apparently with her enthusiastic consent if her lack of mentioning any problems meant anything. It was all hitting him at once. And after what he'd had to choke down about what Sylar had done to Claire, what Claire had let him do, or been forced to endure because of Arthur Petrelli! Noah had kept most of it from his wife, telling her only the most sanitized version. He bared his teeth slightly, thinking about Sylar's filthy fingers on his daughter or his wife, a different sort of violation in each case, but violations all the same.

Very coldly, Sandra responded, "I 'have' to do no such thing, Noah Bennet. I can't believe you would even suggest that! What kind of monster are you?" Her voice rose, as did she from the bar chair. Mr. Muggles barked in agitation. One hand clasped over her stomach. She was crying again, but they weren't tears of joy this time.

Noah rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous! I'm not the monster here," he said, thinking of Sylar but of course she had no clue. His voice was harsh and no-nonsense. "And I'm not 'suggesting'. You have to! We can't raise this baby-"

"Get out!" She screamed at him, pointing past him at the front door. "Months and months gone and then you come home and tell me this? Take your suitcase, take your things, and get out!"