Chapter Seven: How I Had Chinese and Discussed Milady

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. I had exams. I'm sure you all know what they are like. Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Aaahh, I do not own Heroes! How is this possible??

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Elle swung around in the computer chair. She seemed very happy. Occasionally she giggled. Eventually she glanced over at me. "What are you doing?"

I jumped. Thankfully I didn't hit my head on the doorknob, although it was a pretty close call. I spun around and glared at her. "For your information," I hissed, deciding not to abbreviate. "I am trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. Stop distracting me."

Elle's eyes lit up. She bounced off the computer chair and over to me. "Anything interesting?"

I thought about what I had heard, when it hadn't been drowned out by Elle's occasional giggle. Really, you have no idea how loud that girl can giggle. At first Matt just seemed to be talking about baby Noah and how cute he was. Nothing I didn't already know. Then, just as I was about to fall asleep from sheer boredom (not literally, since the only place I can really sleep is a bed), the subject changed quite suddenly.

I frowned. "Something about Milady and her plans for me, I think. He's trying to get Sylar to rethink working for her." I paused when Elle snorted.

She shrugged. "Good luck to him. He's, like, in love with her or something. Never leaves her side." She titled her head to the side, gazing at me. "Well, until now."

"Is she really that bad?" I asked, hoping that she wasn't. It's not very nice if the person who looks uncannily like your sister is the Big Bad or whatever.

"She's okay, I guess," she replied. "Personally, I don't mind her but Glasses...he doesn't like her at all. Says she's shifty, whatever that means. Of course, if she so much as touches a hair on Noah's head I'll rip her guts out and make them into skipping ropes. But that's just me."

I gazed her, my attempt at eavesdropping abandoned. I felt a bit nauseous. "You're a very...graphic person, aren't you?"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same," she said, grinning. I shifted uncomfortably and decided to continue eavesdropping.

Unfortunately Matt and the others had ended their conversation and were about to enter the room. Elle and I skedaddled back to the computer and occupied ourselves with drooling over various Peter/Sylar fanvids. Of course, as soon as they entered the room, we turned the screen off. If Peter or Sylar had seen those fanvids there would have been a lot of red faces in that room, mine among them. And I blush too easily as it is.

"So..." Matt clapped his hands together. He smirked in the general direction of Elle and I (probably knew what we'd been up to, the loveable bastard). "It's getting late." He turned to Sylar, who did not look very happy. "Do you think Milady would mind if you and Rebecca stayed for dinner?"

You know when writers describe someone's face as having clouded over? Well, basically that was Sylar's face, if the cloud in question was a huge, black thunderstorm type. He was not a happy camper. He opened his mouth, probably to tell Matt where to stick his invitation when Elle interrupted.

"Oh yes," she said, simultaneously smiling at me and glaring at Sylar. "Please stay. Matt here orders Chinese very well."

Sylar cleared his throat and tried to give me a meaningful look but I ignored him. Well, no one could ever really ignore him (except, apparently, Peter, who was doing a pretty good job right then) so it was more like this: I noticed his look but chose not to do anything about it. Hopefully I would not regret this.

"I love Chinese food!" was my oh-so-smart response. Well, I do love Chinese food. Sylar glared at me and eventually succeeded in pulling me out of the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed at me. I blinked. I am a seriously disturbed person. I found him attractive even when he was all hissy and angry at me.

I shrugged innocently. "I do love Chinese food." Yeah, like that was really the answer he was looking for.

He sighed. His anger seemed to vanish. I hoped he wasn't bottling it up. That could be very unhealthy. Or so I am told. "Okay, fine. We'll stay for dinner." He wagged a finger in my face, a serious look on his face. "But that's it. Afterwards, we leave. Deal?"

We shook on it. "Deal."

Dinner at...well, I didn't really know what to call their place. Obviously it was the Petrelli mansion but Nathan was rarely there. According to Matt, who I talked to while we ate, he worked at some international airport. Very high profile, apparently. Lots of weird hours.

Anyway, dinner there was pretty good. Sylar, after our deal, was slightly less...oppressive, or whatever. He and Elle actually had a conversation. Granted it was about their son but still, progress. Peter grinned across at me and gave me the thumbs up. I returned the gesture, slightly confused. Elle now supported him and Sylar. And, it seemed, he supported her and Sylar. I prayed to any deities who happened to be listening that Sylar did not support them as a couple. That would just be too surreal.

Mr. Bennet came down with baby Noah and so there was the inevitable cooing over the cute little baby. And then Matt ordered the Chinese. Elle was right: he was clearly an expert.

Elle manoeuvred herself and the others so that she was beside Mr. Bennet and also that Peter and Sylar were sitting next to each other. This was actually a bad idea but then Elle's mental state had always been questionable at best. Peter was still steadily ignoring Sylar. I wondered what had happened. Damn Elle and her distractions! I'd probably missed a really important part of the conversation.

Anyway, while Elle and Mr. Bennet simultaneously cooed over Noah and ate their Chinese, Peter and Sylar continued to ignored each other and eat their Chinese. However I noticed, as did Elle from the way she grinned at me, that they weren't above stealing food from each other's plates. Adorable, really.

Strangely, even though there was probably some malevolent reason for my being here (with my track record, I expected no less), I felt happy. I was surprised to find that I actually liked these people. They were no longer just television characters. They were real. I sort of understood Elle's whole rip-Milady's-guts-out-and-make-them-into-a-skipping-rope attitude. I really hoped Milady wasn't as bad as I was beginning to suspect she was. I was crap at defending people. Strictly a listener, that's me.

I caught Matt gazing at me, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. My face slowly went red. I could feel it, the stupid thing.

"So, I guess Milady hasn't told you anything about her plans for you, has she?" he said. I blinked. I hadn't been expecting quite so an abrupt opening to the subject.

I shook my head dumbly. You know how they say so-and-so suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore? So did not happen to me. I really love Chinese food.

"Who is Milady, anyway?" I said, after I had swallowed. "I mean, I know she's the Head of the Company now but...where did she come from?"

Matt munched on some sweet and sour pork then said (oh, please, like you haven't spoken with your mouth full at least once), "The thing you have to understand about her is that she's very..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Persuasive, I guess you could say. I suppose you could even go a bit further and say she gets under your skin and no matter how hard you scrub she'll never leave until you've rubbed your skin raw and bleeding."

God, what was it about these people and graphically describing something? Matt grinned when he heard me thinking that. "You haven't really spent that much time with her," he said, that grin slowly fading. "But, believe me, once you do you'll understand all too well. Poor Sylar over there," he added, gesturing to Sylar with his fork. "He knows more than most."

My eyes widened. Was he saying what I think he was? He nodded as I turned my wide eyed stare on him. "Yeah, blackmail's not that far out of her range, either."

My brow furrowed. What could you blackmail Sylar with? I mean, you could probably whitemail him (threaten to tell people about all of his secret good deeds – if he had any – thus stripping him of his 'cool bad guy super powered serial killer' image) but even that wouldn't work for very long. I wondered what could be so important to him that he would willingly take orders from Milady.

Matt shrugged. "No clue. I've looked, believe me." He shook his head. "Oh well, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. After all," he added, grinning, "you're here."

I smiled back weakly. What did he expect me to do, anyway? Hello, do I look like a miracle worker to you?

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Review please. I'd like to hear some suggestions. I mean, I know what I want to make the reason but you might have some far more ingenious ideas.