E is for Electric
AN: That song. The one that makes me think of Elle. (Do they have IKEA in America, by the way? I just think it sounds better than 'flat-pack'.)
Also, mourning the loss of Heroes. Why? Whyyyy?
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Sylar grumbled as he heaved the sofa through the doorway. It was extremely tempting to just deconstruct the damn thing and put it all back together using intuitive aptitude and telekinesis, but that would probably reignite the urge for brains and cause him to make a terrible mess of the new carpet. The alternative was IKEA, which defied even Sylar's supernatural skills to piece together, or putting it through the windows using a crane instead at ridiculous cost.
Money won out, despite his argument that they could just make more money using alchemy. This had resulted in a glare and a discussion about the long-term effects on the fiscal system. Attempting to persuade Peter that using their powers that way would not in fact cause a repeat of the Great Depression resulted in the ultimate weapon in the Peter Petrelli weapons arsenal being broken out.
Yeah. Puppy dog eyes.
So he and Peter were attempting to get an extremely stylish leather sofa through a somewhat less stylish doorway, in a completely normal human way.
"Why the hell did you have to choose a fourth-floor apartment?"
"Hey, it was a good idea at the time..."
He finally managed to elbow the stupid thing through the doorway just as the lights cut out.
Sylar swore, loudly, and dropped his end on his foot, causing him to swear again.
"Obviously. The leather might not be, though." He glanced downwards. "Stupid generator," he muttered, just before making one last effort, shoving the sofa through the doorway.
The lights didn't come back on after fifteen minutes, causing Peter to let out his breath in an irritated huff.
"You'd think with the rent we pay they'd have a backup generator or something," he muttered grumpily. "And I was going to start making dinner."
"We could always fix it for them."
"Too much effort. Besides, they're not paying us to do it," he grumbled.
Sylar's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Why, Peter, I never knew you could be so un-charitable."
"Obviously you're rubbing off on me."