Ok, so I know this is, like, a complete 180 from my last fic, but I trying different genres to see what I don't suck at.

This is actually an idea sparked from a conversation I had with a fellow Heroes obsessed friend of mine. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please try to be semi-nice.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes or any of the characters from it. I know, sad isn't it?

Sylar stepped back and smiled at the sign he had just telekinetically hung on the building. "SYLAR'S ICE CREAM."

For reasons no person would ever be capable of comprehending, Sylar had decided to open an ice cream shop, thinking he could prove to the world that he was, in fact, capable of doing some form of good. And what was more good and innocent than selling frozen treats to the people of the city?

Unfortunately, he was a little short handed. He had hired some people to help out, but one of them had turned out to have a special ability, so he was promptly kil- er… "fired." Another one had this high, squeaky voice that annoyed the crap out of Sylar, so he was "fired" as well. The third one seemed ok at first… until Sylar googled him and found out that he was the third cousin twice removed of the great uncle of the best friend of the other third cousin twice removed on the mother's side of Peter Petrelli.

So he was "fired" too.

Finally Sylar decided it might be easier to just do it himself. So he got some money from an "anonymous donor" and bought a small store in LA. After about a month, he was ready to open up. Sylar excitedly flipped the closed sign over to the open side and sat behind the counter, eagerly awaiting customers.

After a couple of hours, Sylar was utterly bored. He played with a small ball of ice he created, but then got bored with that so he melted it. He then decided to spend a good ten minutes learning to speak Russian. After he finished that, he occupied his time by leaning on the counter and drumming his fingers with an annoyed look on his face.

Finally, around noon, someone walked in. He looked about in his early twenties and a curious expression on his face.

Sylar immediately sat up and plastered a huge(slightly creepy-ish) smile on his face. "Welcome to Sylar's Ice Cream! How can I help you today?" The man smiled back a tad nervously.

"Uhh… Well, what flavors do you have?"

"We've got chocolate, vanilla, and people!"

"What was that last one?"

"…..chocolate." (1)

The man shrugged and eventually settled on a mint flavored ice cream. Sylar served him and the man paid and thanked him. The man stood, eating his ice cream. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"So…." Sylar started. "You see that Dodgers game last night?" The man nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah! That was some game, right? The Padres owned!"

Suddenly, the man found himself hurtling through the air and through the door of the shop, landing in a conveniently placed rose bush. Sylar stormed outside, with fire practically shooting out of his eyes.


Sylar stomped back inside mumbling to himself. "Stupid padres fan….. Never come close to the dodgers….." (2)

Throughout the rest of the day, customers filtered in and out. A few seemed wary of the hole in the door, but let it go once they got inside. There were few incidents after the first man. Just a few annoying ones that either wouldn't shut up or disagreed with him on something. Those ones were always immediately thrown out. Literally.

It was a little later in the afternoon, when yet another mishap occurred. There were about four teenagers sitting down and eating there ice cream. Everything was fine until Sylar picked up some comments from two of them.

"…I don't know, I still like Ben and Jerry's better."(3) "Yeah, and the wall color is kinda ugly…" At this point, one of them was thrown through a window, and the other through the ceiling. The others screamed and tried to leave but where not fast enough as they too were thrown through various walls and windows. Sylar yelled after them as well.


He reentered the shop and took a moment to look around at walls he had thrown a few kids through. "I though the blue made the place look warmer…"

By the end of the day, despite the numerous incidents, Sylar had made a good deal of money. He was getting ready to close up, when he heard the small bell above the door ring. He turned around and saw a slightly pale Mohinder staring at the now partially destroyed, battered shop.

Sylar grinned widely. "Hey Mohinder! I was just closing up, but for you I suppose I can stay open a few minutes."

Mohinder chuckled. "Um, thanks. I just thought I'd see how you were doing. Bad day I'm guessing?" He gestured to shop.

Sylar tilted his head to the side and looked confused. "No, it was great. Why would you think that?" There was a moment of silence before Mohinder gave up and shook his head. "Never mind, just give me some vanilla."

Sylar served him before getting some for himself as well. The two sat at one of the tables and chatted pleasantly, luckily never discussing anything baseball or color related.

Mohinder was wondering what flavor of ice cream Sylar had chosen when he noticed that Sylar's cup had an lumpy, bluish-grey mixture in it with a few streaks of red. He paled and felt his stomach drop. "Sylar….. What flavor is that?"

Sylar looked down at his spoon for a second before smiling and looking up.

"I think it's invisibility."

Mohinder put his head in his hands. "Oh God…."

"Don't worry, it's no one you know."

Mohinder groaned as Sylar pat his back in an attempt to be comforting. Sylar smiled again as Mohinder tried not to loose his stomach.

"So……… you see that Dodgers game last night?"

And there it is. If you really want, I suppose the ending can be interpreted as Mylar, but that's now how I wrote it.

(1) This is a line from Family Guy and I take no credit for it!!

(2) I have nothing against Padres fans, it's just for the story.

(3) I don't own Ben and Jerry's. Although I'd be in heaven if I did…