Sylar managed to unlock the door and pry it open, while still holding Fiona. He carried her up the stairs into her apartment. For a moment he looked around, then found the hallway that led to her bedroom. He set her down on the bed and tucked her hair behind her ear then smiled.
Gabriel leaned down and placed a small kiss on her forehead. "It was so nice to meet you Fiona. You have no idea how helpful you've been." He stood straight, his sweet smile turning into a more monstrous, hungry smirk as he raised his left hand, index finger extended. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind and then opened them slowly to find a bit of blood beginning to trickled down from her forehead.
After achieving what was little more than a small cut along her forehead, he stopped. Breathing heavily he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. Damn it. It was clear now that he was still lacking the strength in his ability. Killing her would not be as easy as the old man in London. She was young, and even drunk as she was and passed out, there was a chance she might wake up and fight back. No, he decided. The best course of action was to wait. While he loved the thrill of the kill and the acquiring of new abilities, he had learned something useful out of the debacle that was Maya. The way she was so easily manipulated. He enjoyed the power he had over her, while having no real power at all.
Suddenly the idea of waiting a little longer did not seem so bad, as he looked down at the girl who slept blissfully unaware of what he was thinking. He sat down on the edge of her bed, his fingers ran listlessly through her disheveled hair. "We're going to have so much fun, Fiona," he whispered, careful not to let his low voice wake her up. Not that his voice would wake her up if attempting to cut into her skull didn't even cause her to flinch.
Sylar sat there for a few minutes, watching her chest rise and fall slowly. Then he stood, careful not to disturb her. He pulled the curtains shut to block the sun when it rose, and made his way to the door. He stopped as he passed by the kitchen, and spotted a small coffee maker sitting on a the counter. A sign of good faith? He searched around her kitchen for the coffee grounds and set the timer to start in the morning, leaving her a note.
Fiona,
Thought this would help with the hangover.
Sylar
He paused and scratched out "Sylar" replacing it with "Baby".
He grabbed her keys and locked the doors behind him as he left her apartment and then the studio.
Fiona woke up to a piercing pain in her temples. Hangovers were the worst part of birthdays for her. She was always excited about her birthday, but dreaded it as well, for the day after. She looked to the window, expecting to be blinded by the sun, as she was every morning. But her curtains were pulled shut. She sat up a little, propping herself up on one arm, while raising the other to her head. She could feel the remnants of crusty dried blood on her forehead. Did I fall? She looked around her room, wondering for a moment how she even got back to the apartment. A faint smile fell upon her face as she remembered the foggy events of night before. "Baby," she whispered.
She took a deep breath, the soothing aroma of brewing coffee filled the air. He stayed? She sat up slowly and swung her feet off the bed. After letting her feet hover over the hardwood floor for a few moments, she pushed herself forward and stood to her feet. The room spun for a moment, but she quickly got her bearings. "You didn't have to-"
Her words faded as she reached the kitchen only to find the note on the counter. There was a small part of her that was disappointed. A little piece of her heart sank. She had hoped, when she smelled the coffee, that maybe he had stayed. Fiona sighed softly and poured herself a cup of coffee. After sitting on the couch for almost an hour, sipping slowly, she returned to her room. She changed out of her clothes from the night before.
She put on a pair of clean black jeans, and a long sleeved black t-shirt with white faded angel wings on the back. She thought about tying her hair back, but with the mark on her forehead she decided against it. After brushing her teeth and applying a thin layer of makeup Fiona was headed for the door. She reached for the counter to grab her keys only to find them missing. "What the…" Fiona ran back into her room, tearing it apart. "Maybe I left 'em with dad." She sighed and made her way back to the door to find that it had been locked. Sylar? "That son of a bitch."
"Where is he?!" Her voice startled her father and he nearly dropped the case of glasses he had been carrying. "Where the hell is that little bastard, I'm gonna kill him!"
"Whoa, easy Fiona." He had set the case down and walked around the bar. "What's goin' on?"
"That little bastard, Sylar! I swear to god I'm gonna kick his skinny little American-"
"Fiona! What are ya talkin' about?"
"He stole my keys!" Her blatant anger was met only by laughter from her father. "What's so funny?"
"He didn't steal your keys Fiona. He took them to lock the door after he left, since you were asleep." He reached into his pocket and pulled out her keys. "Brought them back about twenty minutes after ya left. Paid for his beer too. Nice boy, that Gabriel." Her father walked back to the other side of the bar once more and grabbed the case of glasses before heading to the small kitchen in the back. "He's 'round back unloadin' a truck if you wanted to thank him."
"What's he doin' back there?"
Her father poked his head out of the doorway. "He offered to give me a hand while he was in town. Like I said, fine boy. Why can't you bring home any boys like that, Fiona?"
Fiona rolled her eyes before turning around. "Thanks dad. I'll keep that in mind." She walked out of the bar and into the small alley that led around to the back. Sure enough he was back there unloading boxes from a truck.
He stopped when he heard her footsteps and looked up. He was dressed down more than the previous night. This time only wearing a black t-shirt and worn black jeans with his navy blue Converse. His dark eyes locked on hers as she walked up to him. "Oh god. You look like shit." He was immediately met by her fist colliding with his nose. His head shot back and he stumbled. "What was that for," he asked bringing his hands up to his nose. "I didn't realize you'd take everything I say so seriously."
"You took my keys," she snapped. "Failed to leave that in your little note."
"Sorry. I didn't want to leave the door unlocked." He took a step forward and smiled at her. "You were so vulnerable, I thought it was best to make sure the door was locked. So I gave your keys back do your dad. Sorry."
"I was vulnerable?! You're really diggin' yourself a grave Baby." She leaned against the side of the truck and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What are ya doin' back here?"
"Your dad looked like he could use some help."
Fiona climbed up in the back of the van and leaned against the boxes that remained, pulling her legs up close to her and wrapping her arms around them. "So, what? I'm sure you've got better things to do with your two week vacation than help an aging bartender."
"Who said anything about two weeks? Who said anything about vacations for that matter?"
"Gorgeous American men traveling through Scotland on a whim only exist in cheesy romantic comedies."
Sylar found himself laughing and forced his cheeks to turn slightly red. "You mean I'm still gorgeous without all the alcohol blurring your vision?"
Her eyes darted away and he saw her face turn red. It had been a while since he'd made anyone blush, or smile the way she did. So genuine. "I just meant that people don't do that sort of thing. If they come here they're tourists. They're looking for a temporary escape. No one just travels on a whim anymore. You some kind of hitchhiker or something?"
"I brought my towel."
Her eyes shot back up to him and she stared. For a moment he wondered if she understood, then her lips curved into a smile. She was holding back, trying not to laugh. But in the end she failed miserably. Her head fell forward and she covered her face in her hands.
That's when Sylar noticed the small scratch on her head. A mark he had left on her. There was something oddly satisfying about that. "I cannot believe you actually just said that." She looked back up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. Sylar sat on the edge of the truck and laughed. Her laughing settled slowly and her eyes fell on him once more. "I know why you're doin' this."
"Do you?"
"Aye. You're helping my father so that you can spend more time with me. Oh please Baby, don't think you're that clever. You're not the first boy to offer to work with my dad in order to spend time with me."
Sylar stood, grabbed the box that she was leaning against and pulled it away, causing Fiona to fall backwards. "You seem pretty confident in that," he said simply. Suddenly, one drop, then two, then three. Rain. It fell in sheets almost instantaneously. Fiona's laughter echoed through the alley when she saw Gabriel leap into the back of the truck.
She pushed herself out of the truck and smile, as the ran poured down over her, soaking her in a matter of seconds. "You act like you've never seen the rain before, Baby." She reached into the truck and grabbed a hold of his wrists, pulling him out into the alley. He struggled, but Fiona knew he was only pretending, the smile on his face, and the bright look in his eyes told her the truth. "You said you'd help my dad. He'll be expectin' ya to work through the rain. Its Scotland, Gabriel, rain's pretty common. But you're lucky this time."
"Why's that?"
"Cause you should probably get some ice on your face." She laughed. "I hit you pretty hard didn't I."
"Yeah, you did. Don't think you won't get payback either." He smirked following her back into the pub. He noticed the wings on her shirt and smiled. "You an angel or somethin'?"
She glanced back at him. "Fallen one maybe…" Once inside the pub Fiona went straight to the cooler behind and grabbed a handful of ice cubes. She wrapped them in a towel and handed it to Gabriel, who sat on a stool across from her.
"Aw, Fiona what'd ya do to the poor boy?" Her father walked by them and shook her head before heading into the back once more.
"What kind of powers do you have Sylar?"
"Excuse me?" Her words caught him off guard.
"Last night, you were the devil. I come in today and he's practically married us off."
"Really?" Gabriel laughed as he pressed the ice against his nose. "I swear to you that was not my intention."
"Don't worry about it." She laughed and shook her head. "The boys around here aren't like you though."
"How's that?"
"Well for one they're not American." She smiled, pushed herself up on the bar and sat there with her legs dangling over the other side, about a foot away from where Gabriel was sitting. As she kicked her legs back and forth they slid against his gently, it was barely noticeable. "You didn't have to come back here last night. You don't even know me."
"I'm thinkin' of sticking around for a while."
Her eyes focused on Sylar. She wondered why he had stopped, why his voice had faded away. He clearly wanted to say something else. "And…"
"Maybe we can fix that… Fiona." He flashed her a smile. "I'm out of my element here. It'd be nice to have a friend."
