Sylar stood, hidden in shadow, on the rooftop of the building directly across from Mohinder Suresh's apartment complex. The building was slightly taller than the one Suresh resided in; as a result, the serial killer had a near perfect view of the geneticist's home.
The killer could see, through a window that was decorated with Christmas lights, both Mohinder and the little girl who could find people asleep on the couch. The Doctor had a book open and sprawled across his chest, the little girl tucked into his side. Their breathing was soft, steady.
"...still don't get what's so important about this guy," came a young woman's voice from below. The serial killer flinched; glanced down and saw a woman with blond hair, swank clothing and a rather shapely body pacing on the sidewalk just outside of Mohinder's building, a phone pressed to her ear.
Sylar adjusted his hearing and tuned into the woman's conversation.
"...times have I told you it isn't your job to get anything, Elle? Just do what you were told to do."
The young woman sighed. "Fine, fine. I have been doing what I'm told. I've followed Doctor Mohinder Suresh all over New York. And like I told you, he's been with Sylar. He's practically, like, Sylar's pet. And I haven't seen any evidence that Suresh is talking to Bennet and the others."
There was a pause and then, "Okay, Elle. Come on home. I'll contact Doctor Suresh myself. We're bringing him in."
The killer heard the swush as the girl jerked her head and swung her hair so that it hung behind her shoulder. "Dad," she said. "Daddy. Are you sure? I mean, like I said, Suresh has been with Sylar for days and he's not dead. Days with Sylar. That just...doesn't happen. If we take in Suresh Sylar might-"
"Didn't I just tell you? Do what you're told, Elle. No questions asked. I expect to see you home tomorrow." There was a click.
Elle sighed. Tucked away her phone and hurried up the sidewalk towards a little red car. She got in, started it up and pulled into traffic without bothering to warm the engine.
Sylar frowned; could suddenly recall seeing the young woman eating at the diner he'd gone to with Mohinder (he had even glanced her flashing the man a flirty smile as he'd headed to the men's room), getting into her car just before he and the geneticist had headed up to the – unfortunately empty – apartment 3F, even loitering outside of his own apartment when he'd emerged from one of his visions and had gone after the absent Mohinder.
How the hell could he have missed all of that? Missed someone following him...them? He thought of Mohinder; of the geneticist's lips, his lean body, his dark eyes...
Right. Okay. So he'd been distracted.
So. Sylar caressed the paper he'd stuffed into his pocket for a second; pulled it out and stared at it. Someone wants Mohinder. That's going to be a problem. For them.
He looked at the paper, at the drawing – it was a vision drawing. He'd sketched it himself at his apartment. (Mohinder had taken advantage of his obliviousness as he'd worked on it, had left.)
Sylar grinned. Mused that 'daddy' should've taken Elle's advice.
They can't fight destiny.