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AN: With Nikki/Jessica making an appearance in this chapter, I feel obliged to confirm that her storyline has been the least altered by the changes I've made to events so far; obviously she didn't encounter Matt during that diamond theft as he was never in a position to take that security job, but otherwise events for her, Micah and D.L. have unfolded basically as they did in canon.

The Not-So-Average Girl

The only thing Peter hated about his current situation was the knowledge that the girls were completely depending on him to keep them safe. He was aware that both Kim and Claire were stubborn, strong-willed, independent girls who'd done just as much to help him cope with the mess their lives had become as he'd done to help them, but it didn't change the fact that he was the only person with abilities that could actually be used to defend them if things came down to a fight with someone. Claire's healing ability had already been confirmed to have limits that could kill her for good if someone hit her in the right place, and Kim's own ability would only keep her alive for so long if she was facing something suitably powerful.

Peter had never considered himself a violent person, and he wasn't about to start stalking the streets looking for 'villains' to fight, but the fact that he was able to do so much now… In a way, it was simultaneously awe-inspiring and humbling. He had seen and heard of so many amazing things in the last few weeks alone, but the idea of that imminent future explosion just cast a dark shadow over everything, and as for Isaac's latest paintings…

As much as he appreciated Kim and Claire's faith in him, once he was sure that the girls were resting back in his apartment, Peter had tried to make contact with Mohinder to get his own input on the situation. Calling the Indian doctor's apartment had just put him through to an answering machine, which could mean anything from the other man being busy to him actually being away, but the way Peter saw it, he would lose nothing by paying the man a direct visit to try and talk with him about everything he'd found so far.

Once he reached the apartment, he was surprised to find the door unlocked, but his initial apprehension shifted to more specific anxiety when he found the apartment dark, various drawers open and books scattered around the room as though someone had been searching for something. A brief check was enough to satisfy him that Mohinder himself wasn't here, but before he could take a better look at what was going on here, Peter suddenly found himself face-to-face with the man he'd fought back at Claire and Kim's school.

"I remember you," the man who was apparently Sylar said. Peter raised his hands to try and defend himself, but then he was slammed against the wall by a telekinetic burst, Sylar grabbing his chin to examine his face.

"You're like me, aren't you?" the killer said, tilting Peter's head as though he was looking at a specimen in a lab. "I'd like to see how that works."

Peter was spared protesting the idea that he and this psycho had anything in common when Sylar raised his finger and began to draw a line across Peter's forehead. For a moment Peter could only scream in pain at the sense of something digging into his skull, trying to force its way past the skin and bone, but when he focused on his memories of Claire, the pain decreased almost at once, Sylar's shock at the sight of Peter's healing wound giving Peter the focus to force his opponent back with his own telekinesis, now far stronger than it had been during their last bout. As the killer hit the bookcase at the other end of the room, the bookcase fell over, temporarily pinning Sylar to the ground as Peter fell to the floor in a crouch. As Sylar forced the bookcase off him, Peter quickly turned invisible; he had a rough idea of what Sylar's offensive capabilities were from the last time they fought, so his best bet right now was to give himself a chance to think without leaving Sylar alone in the room.

"Interesting," Sylar said, looking around the room. "I can't wait to try that one."

Peter resisted the urge to say anything else to his enemy; from what Claude had told him about how his ability worked, he doubted Sylar would be able to access his current 'rolodex' even if he could find a way to take Peter's ability, but he wasn't going to get into that kind of 'debate' with a psychopath.

Taking advantage of the brief interlude in the fight, Peter assessed the apartment as quickly and carefully as possible. As far as he could tell, Sylar wasn't carrying anything new, as he wasn't wearing a jacket and there was no sign of a bag, but there were enough books and papers lying around that it was possible Mohinder had left something-

When he saw Sylar start to levitate pieces of glass from the floor, Peter knew he had to act. Hoping that he'd worked out how to tap particular abilities correctly, Peter ducked down, placed one hand on the floor, and focused on a sense of cold as intently as possible. To his relief, the floor under his hand turned blue with ice and then spread across the rest of the floor, crystalizing over the fallen books and papers while heading for Sylar's shoes.

"What-?" Sylar looked down in surprise before Peter waved a desperate hand at his enemy. He was surprised when there was a sudden explosion in front of Sylar's chest, putting him in mind of clips he'd seen of fight scenes from that Power Rangers show, but he didn't bother questioning it when the attack knocked his opponent off his feet, causing him to lose telekinetic control of the glass. Sylar roared in outrage as the glass shards broke on the ground, but before he could start getting back to his feet his body was already being covered in ice, pinning him to the ground as Peter got back to his feet and cast a wider blanket of frost around the room. With the ice spread across the floor, Peter quickly fired a couple of blasts of that 'explosive' power at the books and papers around the apartment, but when Sylar got back to his feet with an outraged roar, Peter quickly recalled the surprise that he'd felt during that mysterious meeting with Hiro's future self and teleported out of the apartment, leaving Sylar with battered papers and books ruined by ice and 'explosions'.

Peter didn't like the idea of leaving Sylar free like that, but it wasn't like he knew someone who could lock the killer up given what he was capable of so far, and he wasn't comfortable just killing the other man in cold blood when he still knew so little about him. Maybe it was a childish attitude, but when Peter had two young women looking at him like he was the hero, was it such a bad thing to feel like he couldn't bring himself to kill someone? If he was sure that Sylar was going to kill someone else if he wasn't stopped right that moment, maybe it would be different, but so far he still had the choice…

Peter shied away from the part of his mind that suddenly wondered if he would have been that controlled if Sylar went after the girls again. His father and brother might have been soldiers in the past, but while Peter respected their choice, he'd never been comfortable with the idea himself, and right now, the more powers he gained, the more it seemed important to set himself some kind of limit.

As he drove through Las Vegas, Nathan wondered if other potential senators had to put up with this much potential crap during a political campaign. He knew that sometimes potentially unsavoury deals were necessary to get into a position of authority, and he'd been prepared to tolerate Linderman's backing, but the idea of actually acting against him like this…

Still, as he got out of the car in front of Linderman's hotel, so far the plan all seemed to be going smoothly enough. The morning meeting with the bureau's agents at the campaign office had been an unexpected twist, but their excuse should be enough to deflect attention, and at least the current plan was straightforward enough. Once Linderman was out of the picture thanks to his efforts, Nathan's campaign might have just the boost it needed to make up for his current lagging in the polls, and then-

"Mr Petrelli?" a familiar accented voice said. Turning around, Nathan was surprised to see that short Japanese man- Hiro, he was fairly sure- sitting dejectedly in front of a casino, a sandy-haired teenage boy Nathan hadn't met before sitting beside him.

"Pete?" the new boy said, looking up with a grin before his expression shifted to confusion upon seeing Nathan. "Uh… you're not Peter?"

"He flying-!" Hiro began as he eagerly leapt to his feet, before Nathan slammed a hand over Hiro's mouth with a warning glare.

"Quiet?" the unfamiliar boy asked.

"Quiet," Nathan nodded, urgently leading the two into the casino, hoping that the boy wasn't so young that this would get difficult if anyone caught them together. "What's all this about?"

"Long story short, we're trying to get something from this Linderman guy so that it can give Hiro's powers a jump-start," the boy said, before holding out his hand with a grin. "By the way, Ron Sinclair; if you're Mr Petrelli and you're not Peter, I take it you're his brother?"

"You know Peter?" Nathan looked curiously at the now-named Ron even as he shook his hand.

"Guy saved the lives of my BF and our new friend a few weeks back; we bonded," Ron grinned at the older man. "Seriously, what's it like being the brother of the most powerful guy alive?"

"…I can honestly say I've never thought about it that way," Nathan replied, lost at the implications of what he'd just heard. He supposed that he could consciously acknowledge that his brother's apparent ability to copy other people's powers made him particularly powerful, but actually hearing someone call Peter 'the most powerful guy alive' made it feel that much more real…

"Yeah, well, for what it's worth, he's a good guy to be trusted with that kind oomph," Ron grinned at Nathan before his expression became grimmer. "But right now, Hiro and I need to get inside that building and get… what we're after, and they're not letting us in."

"I… see," Nathan looked thoughtfully at the two men before his gaze focused on Hiro; thoughts of Peter being the most powerful man alive would be given due attention later. "I have to confess, when I first met you, I thought you were nuts."

"It's OK," Hiro nodded. "I thought you were mean, but I know. You pretend you do not care about anyone, but you care too much."

"This is… really important to you, huh?" Nathan observed thoughtfully, deciding not to get too caught up in that particular detail.

"It is important for everyone."

"Well… follow me," Nathan nodded, hoping he wasn't about to make a mistake as he led the two young men to a particular corridor near the rear of the building. The men in front of him didn't look familiar to Nathan, but judging by Hiro and Ron's reaction they were known to the young men, which gave Nathan further incentive to take point.

"You know who I am?" he looked at the security guards that had come to greet them.

"Of course, Mr Petrelli," the guard on his left replied.

"My friends here are making a delivery from me to Mr Linderman," Nathan indicated Hiro and Ron. "Something he's expecting."

"Well, I didn't realise-" the guard began, his reaction making it clear that he'd been more than acceptably rude to Ron and Hiro earlier.

"You look like you've been around long enough to know what happens when Mr. Linderman doesn't get something he's expecting?" Nathan cut him off. "Or do I have to paint you a picture?"

"They can take it to the curator," the guard said after an awkward chuckle.

"Does that work for you?" Nathan looked at Hiro.

"We'll take it from here," Ron nodded. "Thanks for the help… Mr Petrelli."

"Is this a bad time to realise that I've not actually done the dangerous stuff yet?" Ron whispered uncertainly to Hiro as they waited in the ascending elevator.

"You join me in original theft-"

"That was just walking into a museum and… OK, you had a better idea what you were going to do then; I was just following your lead," Ron observed. "This? We're marching into the stronghold of a guy with potential mob ties with the goal of stealing something from his private collection; I think I'm within my rights to be a bit worried about that!"

"Stay calm," Hiro grinned. "Backup plan, remember?"

"You're sure about that?"

"All in order," the Japanese man nodded as the elevator opened. "We will be fine."

Looking at the private museum on the other side of the door, Ron wondered what it said about this 'Linderman' guy if he had this many of Isaac's paintings in his collection with more traditional artwork like lion statues and old-looking paintings. He could probably pass it off as just an interesting coincidence, but when he saw pictures of things like the possible explosion of New York and a man flying that was almost certainly Peter, it created an unconventional mix even before Ron saw a picture of what looked like him, Kim and Claire at the moment they learned about Kim's ability…

Realising that he'd fallen behind Hiro, Ron hurried to join his friend as Hiro lifted the painting tube off his back in front of a table at the other end of the room, where a man was studying what looked like a scroll.

"There are so few Dead Sea fragments left in the world," the man said, grabbing the painting tube before Hiro could put it down. "It would be a pity if you crushed this one."

"Interesting… mix," Ron said, uncertainly indicating the collection of pictures around them.

"Mr Linderman has eclectic tastes," the man who Ron was going to guess was the curator of this place said. "I take it you brought the new Mendez?"

"This one is very special," Hiro said, offering the tube to the other man. As the curator opened the tube and unrolled the painting, Ron winced when he took in the scale of the damage Hiro's father had caused when he'd torn the painting up. On the bright side, from what Ron knew of artists and their weird tastes, Hiro's idea to deliver it despite the damage wasn't exactly the worst idea in the world…

"This painting is ripped," the curator said. "And repaired with Scotch tape."

"It's an art thing," Ron shrugged. "C'mon, you know how weird some of this stuff can get, right?"

"…Is there something else?" the curator asked, shooting a glare at Ron before he apparently decided to ignore that comment for the moment.

"I need receipt-o for delivery," Hiro replied.

As the curator walked off into the back room with the painting, Hiro ran around the desk to examine the man's computer as soon as the door was closed.

"Anything?" Ron asked as Hiro tapped away at the keyboard for a few moments, before a sound from behind prompted Ron to turn around. He saw a large thing that he could only think of as a chest of drawers, reaching up to the ceiling of the room, with a stepladder on wheels alongside it.

"Got it," Hiro grinned, running over to the ladder, only for Ron to feel something grab his arm before he could go to join Hiro.

"There are seven hundred and fifty-four members of the security team in this hotel," the curator said, looking disdainfully up at Hiro as he dragged Ron over to his new friend like a disobedient child. "All of them with the instructions to drop what they're doing and come running if I press this button."

Just as the other man held up a small black thing that made Ron think of a pager, a security guard walked up behind him, grabbed the pager-thing out of his hand, and struck the older man on the back of the head with such force that it knocked him to the ground.

"Ando?" Ron asked.

"Bingo," the other man said, pulling off his mask to confirm his identity. "Classic mistake."

"To be fair, those masks are probably useful for something, but in the meantime, maybe we should just get what we came for and get out of here before he wakes up?"

"Good call," Hiro nodded, as he drew the sword from the drawer and held it up in a manner that Ron guessed was intended to evoke those original Star Wars posters with Luke Skywalker brandishing the lightsaber. "We have sword; we go now."

"Go?" Ando and Ron repeated.

"We all go," Hiro said resolutely as he placed a hand on Ando's shoulder and managed to grip Ron's wrist with his forefinger and thumb without losing his hold of the sword. He closed his eyes, seemed to be concentrating hard, and Ron suddenly had the strange sense of movement without physically moving himself-

Nathan wasn't sure if he should be making a big deal about what Hiro and that kid were doing here, but either way he doubted that it would seriously impact his own plans for the day. Linderman's art collection was kept in a separate building from where he was going to meet the man, so it could hardly make a difference if one item went missing from that collection around this time.

He just wished that he could be sure that the FBI agents who'd roped him into this were going to be there for him. He understood the importance of discretion, but there was a difference between staying quiet and giving the impression that they'd basically leave him hanging out to dry if this went wrong…

"I'm back in my room," he said, lowering his head to the small radio in his lapel pin. "I'll be on the floor in an hour."

He turned around the corner and froze in shock when he saw the blonde he'd slept with during his last visit to Vegas sitting in a chair. He knew that she was at least an associate of Linderman considering her role in that blackmail video back when he'd first met Hiro, but he wasn't entirely clear how willing a part she played in this whole mess-

"Wearing this could get a person killed," the blonde said, standing up and pulling the wire out of his shirt before she aimed the gun at his chest.

"OK, it's all right," Nathan said, voice low as his mind raced for a good way out of this. "Easy."

"Listen to me," the blonde said urgently. "I don't know how much time we have before she comes back."

"Who?" Nathan asked, confused at this unexpected conversation.

"Jessica," the blonde replied. "The woman that they sent after you-!"

As soon as the gun was lowered, Nathan tackled the woman and pinned her to the bed, forcing himself to forget what had happened the last time they'd been in such a position.

"You picked the wrong day to screw with me," he said firmly; even if everything else was going against him, he wasn't going to go down quietly.

"Linderman knows about the wire and the FBI," the woman said.

"You know the FBI can hear everything we're saying-"

"No, they can't; they're dead," the blonde cut him off. "Linderman knows that you turned on him."

"Did you come here to kill me, or warn me?" Nathan looked uncertainly at the woman as he tried to condition how to respond to this latest turn of events.

"Just trust me," the blonde said, everything about her pleading as she looked up at Nathan.

Peter might be the one better at relating to people, but Nathan liked to think he at least knew when someone was being completely honest with him about something, and this woman seemed to be that. Stuck for a better option, he stood up and walked away from the bed, leaving the woman to stand up herself once he'd confirmed that the gun was a safe distance away.

"Linderman hired her to kill the FBI and keep you in line."

"Who?" Nathan asked, lost as to how this woman could know so much about Linderman's activities or how she could know anything about Linderman's assassin when the FBI agents hadn't mentioned such a woman.

"Let's just say I owe her," the blonde replied with a frustrated shrug. "He's gonna offer you a deal. If you go in there, you have to take it."

"And I spend the rest of my life with his boot on my neck?" Nathan observed. "No thank you."

"Then run," the woman looked at him with new desperation. "Get your family and run. You said that you had kids. Two boys?"

"I can't do that," Nathan replied quietly as he looked out of the window. Putting aside what it would cost him personally, he couldn't force his kids to live a life on the run like that…

"You don't have any other option," the blonde said.

"Yeah, I do," Nathan countered as he turned back to face her. "I could kill him."

"…Then knock me out," the woman said, picking up the previously-dropped gun and looking resolutely at him.

"Why?" Nathan asked.

"So that Jessica knows she's not in control any more."

"Who is Jessica?"

"You want this gun?" the blonde retorted, her fixed expression making it clear she wasn't going to answer that question as she held the weapon up to his chest. "Do it."

Lost for better options, Nathan punched the woman in the face and stood back as she fell to the ground. He took a moment to make sure that the woman at least seemed to be in a comfortable position on the ground, before he slipped her gun into his inner jacket pocket and walked out of the room.

Whatever Linderman knew about his deal with the FBI, it might still be possible to get out of this mess with at least one clear achievement under his belt…