Author's Note: I introduce another character in this! Yay! Hope you enjoy this tiny, tiny chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Angel

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Over the next few days nothing much happened. Claude tried to find out whether his little chat with Peter had had any effect by staring very intently at Sylar. This only made Sylar a little freaked out. Actually a lot freaked out. So much so that he took to avoiding the invisible man and hanging out with either Spike or Lorne.

When he could find them, that is. That was what he was trying to do now but, wouldn't you know it? Wolfram and Hart was like a bloody maze, twisting corridors and far too many doors. It was no wonder he was lost only two minutes into arriving.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter. His mouth fell open. Thank god no one was actually looking at him. He probably looked like a fricking idiot. He blinked and shook his head slightly but no, Peter was still there. He appeared to be talking to...why, that bastard! He was talking to none other than Spike!

He growled and moved forward slowly, distracted by thoughts of tearing and biting and...oops, wrong thoughts.

He was so distracted, however, that he wasn't able to stop himself from smashing into a door that had opened right in front of him. He fell down, his head pounding. He hurt. A lot.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" a sweet voice said from above. "I didn't even see ya there."

He looked up into the face of an angel, albeit one carrying far too many folders which she had, miraculously (but then, she was an angel), managed to keep a hold of.

She laughed self-deprecatingly. "Well, of course I didn't. Me, I can't see through walls." She held out her hand and pulled Sylar to his feet. "I'm Fred, by the way. Winifred Burkle. But most people, they call me Fred."

"I'm...Sylar," he said, his head still pounding. Or was that something else? And when had he started thinking that his name was utter crap? "Nice to meet you."

The light in her eyes seemed to dim and then brighten again as though information had just rushed across her mind. "Oh," she said, smiling. "I've heard of you. Peter said I might see you. Weren't you looking for redemption or something? At least that's...what...I...remember..." She trailed off, her eyes widening. She hadn't meant to say quite that much.

Sylar's brown eyes were impossibly cold. He quickly forgot about pretty angel Fred as he moved swiftly down the corridor to where he'd last seen Peter speaking to (that traitor) Spike. He knew he'd been right. He'd known Peter was behind this from the start.

His hands clenched tightly into fists, he strode around the corner...and then quickly backtracked when he heard Claude say, his voice cold, "I hope you took my advice, Peter. After all, this was your plan to begin with. We don't need any mistakes."

He heard Peter sigh. In fact, it felt like it whispered against his cheek. He half closed his eyes and tried not to groan at the thoughts which bombarded him. He turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"...I just couldn't," Peter was saying, sounding disappointed in himself and disgusted with his weakness. "He asked me never to leave him." There was a pause as Peter shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't, not after that."

Sylar blinked. What? But that had just been a dream. Hadn't it? He frowned and decided to think about that particular piece of information another time.

Spike took a drag on his cigarette and breathed out the smoke, watching the patterns it made absently. "Well, I don't see what the problem is," he said. "I don't think it's doing him any harm. In fact," he added, far too cryptically for the two men's liking. "I think it's doing him good."

Sylar gritted his teeth. If Spike so much as said another word he'd...

"Excuse me?" Fred said softly from behind him, as though she knew he was eavesdropping. He turned around slowly, not really wanting to talk to the woman he'd, only moments ago, thought of as an angel.

"Yes?" he said shortly.

"I'm really sorry if I said anything that offended ya," she said, her face twisted into an expression of embarrassment. "I'm not really that great around people." There was that self-deprecating laugh again. "And, really," she added, clutching the folders in her hands tightly. "Disregard anything I said back there. I mean, apparently I have this tendency to babble around incredibly hot guys, right, and anything I say is probably completely untrue." She nodded solemnly and then glanced over at him shyly.

He couldn't help but grin at her. Really, she was just too cute. "Probably?"

She blushed. Too cute was exactly right. He lifted the folders out of her arms gently. She looked surprised but didn't fight him. "Now, where do you want me to put these?" he asked, indicating the folders with a nod of his head.

She smiled. "Follow me."

He did so delightedly, thoughts of Peter, the fact that he seemed to know about the dreams and his ultimate plan deliberately pushed to the back of his mind. For now, at least.

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Aww, Fred. She really is the sweetest.

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