Auld Lang Syne
Characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5970
Summary: The heroes descend upon the Suresh apartment for a New Year's Eve party
A/N: I've only included the bits of season three that I like (ie. the existence of Daphne and Tracy) and only the pairings that I like (mostly non-canon). This is the first time I've written so many characters, so it's a little disjointed, but hopefully somewhat amusing.
Elle slammed her hand dramatically against the wall. “Harder, Mohinder, harder!” she cried breathlessly.
Mohinder stopped pounding his carpaccio for a moment to give her a withering look. “I know what you’re doing,” he said, before once again focusing his attention on the meat tenderizer.
Just out of the bathroom (into which Molly had immediately gone), Elle let out an aggrieved moan as she abandoned her sensual stance and slinked over to stand behind him. Sliding her arms around his body and delicately pushing a couple of fingers between the buttons on his shirt to feel his chest hair, she got up on tiptoes and breathed hotly into his ear.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Just a few minutes. We don’t have much time.”
“Exactly. Which is why we shouldn’t waste it on pointless groping,” he replied unconvincingly, his body belying his words as he melted backwards into her.
“Pointless? Is that what you call it?” Elle froze, and there was a dangerous edge in her voice that Mohinder was brave (or foolish) enough to ignore.
“Yes, that’s what I call it when it can’t go anywhere. Please,” Mohinder whispered. “I don’t want to get… excited right now.”
Nothing had worked out according to plan. The lease for the West Village apartment they had expected to move into a few days before had been delayed, so she’d had to spend her first week of living with Mohinder in the crummy, old, half-packed-up, Brooklyn apartment. Not only that, but the walls were entirely too thin for them to have been able to do anything interesting so far, since Matt had had to take an unexpected trip to LA and had therefore switched the week he was supposed to have had Molly. At least they could look forward to the fact that the bedrooms in the new place would be at opposite ends of the apartment, making it almost impossible for the little girl to hear anything traumatizing.
In the meantime, Elle’s hand wandered ever lower down Mohinder’s chest and finally reached---
Hearing the bathroom door unlock, Mohinder stepped quickly to the side, out of her grasp. Elle stamped her feet and zapped the Christmas tree in frustration. A branch burst into flames, and the smell of burning tinsel wafted into the kitchen area.
“I’ll get that.” Molly, in her best party dress, immediately went to fetch some water and paper towels.
“Sorry about that,” Elle, suddenly chastened, apologized, and went to help Molly. Mohinder kept pounding the meat. Everyone had become accustomed to these daily accidents.
When the small blaze was put out, Elle slumped into a chair and lovingly clutched her cocktail. “What else is left to do, Momo darling?” she asked.
Mohinder had been making an effort to keep his spirits as festive as possible, but in the back of his head, he still found himself calculating the probability of a certain recessive gene that had plaguing him all week. He hadn’t been able to sleep for worrying about it, and in fact had stopped coming home at a reasonable hour, in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be much fun anyway. Having finally arranged the carpaccio on a plate, Mohinder turned around and leaned on the counter.
“Actually, I bought some lights, but I forgot to get a step-ladder so I can put them up along the walls.” He moved to retrieve a box from a corner of the living room .
Elle fingered the string of Christmas lights as if she were allergic to them. “Multi-colored?” she asked incredulously.
“Of course! They’ll spruce the place up… hide the walls.”
“I don’t do colored lights,” Elle sneered.
Mohinder shrugged. “Too bad. If you can find a way to reach and put those up, I’ll work on cleaning up a little more.”
The doorbell rang and all three jumped.
“I didn’t think anyone was coming for another hour,” Elle mused.
“Er, that’s my fault,” Molly piped up.
“What?” the two adults asked.
“I wanted the party to get going before I fell asleep. So before you sent the email about the party being here instead of the new apartment, I put in a sentence about the time changing, too.”
“Molly, how could you?” Mohinder (almost) yelled. Even Elle looked dismayed.
Molly shrugged. “It’s not like this place would have looked all that much better in another hour.”
Mohinder opened the door to an already intoxicated, party hat wearing Nathan and a prickly-looking Tracy.
“Hey Suresh, happy New Year’s,” Nathan boomed, and grabbed Mohinder, who squirmed miserably as Nathan gave him a noogie. “Christ, man! Hair gel, much?” he asked.
After having successfully destroyed Mohinder’s carefully constructed mane of curls, as well as having brought back painful memories of primary school, the errant senator swaggered into the apartment to say hello to Molly. Mohinder and Tracy were left by the door to do a nervous dance in which Mohinder offered her his hand to shake, thought better of it, pulled it away, and looked apologetically frightened. She did the same. After a few more permutations, he leaned in to almost brush her cheek with his lips, taking care to not actually touch.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” she softly reassured him.
“Neither will I,” he affirmed in a whisper. Tracy finally warmed into a smile. They stared at one another a little longer and fell then into an awkward sort of forgiving hug. She held up a clanking shopping bag. “We brought lots of champagne.”
“Thank you! I’ll take that,” Mohinder heard Elle interrupt behind him. Mohinder turned around to see her simultaneously glaring at him, and simpering at the lascivious stare Nathan was giving her. She now came forward to snatch the bag from Tracy’s hands. “I’m Elle,” she stated menacingly.
Tracy looked confused at this stranger’s inexplicable attitude, but remained ever the professional. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tracy.”
“You’re Suresh’s girlfriend?” Nathan asked incredulously before looking up to wink at Mohinder. “I didn’t think you had it in you, doc. Nice work!”
“Don’t congratulate him yet,” Elle said through gritted teeth. Now Mohinder joined Tracy in wondering what Elle’s problem was. Nathan just smiled and went over to say hi to Molly. He picked her up and whizzed her gleefully around the room.
“Hey!” Molly told Nathan. “You can help us hang the Christmas lights. Mohinder forgot to buy a ladder.”
“Sure thing, doll.” He took the string of lights and tape Molly handed him and started on the task despite Mohinder’s weak protestations. Flying up to the ceiling, he attached the string to different points on the walls.
“So, how do you two know each other so well?” Elle asked Tracy. The dangerous look was still in her eyes.
Mohinder and Tracy looked confused again, blushed, and stammered alternately before Tracy finally articulated, “Well, Mohinder was really close with my sister Niki… and then we met through Nathan.”
“You have a sister?”
“Two actually… it’s a long story. We were triplets.”
Elle’s eyebrows almost touched her hairline now. “Blonde triplets?”
“Yes, and all three injected with the serum. Isn’t it insane?” Mohinder answered in a friendly way, eyes gleaming with scientific interest.
Elle didn’t share the same interest. “Fascinating. Weird that you never mentioned them, Mohinder.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tracy asked quickly.
“I feel terrible putting my guests to work…” Mohinder began.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Tracy said when the pause due Mohinder’s panicked thought process went on a little too long. “Nathan’s already doing something. There’s got to be a job for me.”
Mohinder had an idea, and beamed brightly at Tracy. “Well, Elle did forget to buy enough ice…”
“Great! I’ll get right on that.” Tracy picked up the ice bucket, took it to the sink, and dumped tray after tray of instantly created ice into it. Standing unconsciously and inappropriately close, Mohinder watched her, enthralled, and with the goofy smile that always crept onto his face as he watched special abilities at work. The sound of the bedroom door slamming made him finally look up, and he saw Molly riding piggy-back on Nathan as he made his way around the ceiling.
“Molly! No flying in the house,” he called exasperatedly. “Nathan, please don’t encourage her. It isn’t safe.”
“Not safe? I’m insulted.”
“You’re also drunk,” Mohinder snapped.
Nathan nodded and stuck out his lower lip. “Fair point. Sorry, sweetie.” Nathan landed just long enough to deposit Molly on the couch before floating back up to the ceiling again.
“Aww! You’re no fun, Mohinder!” Molly complained.
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Nathan rejoined.
“Where did your girlfriend go?” Tracy asked.
Mohinder was still mesmerized by Tracy’s ability to create ice cubes in seconds, and so responded absently. “I don’t know. I suppose into the bedroom.”
“I’d check on her if I were you. She’s upset.”
“How do you know?” Mohinder asked. Elle had been acting strangely a second ago, but he didn’t know why, and hadn’t thought it was serious.
Tracy laughed. “You’re not very good with women, are you?”
Before Mohinder even had a chance to get huffy about her presumption, he was distracted by Matt letting himself into the apartment with the key he still retained.
“Hey,” he said. He was still wearing his uniform. “I’m just going to change and then I’ll be right out with you guys.”
Somehow, his arrival lightened the mood. Elle came out of the bedroom and started talking to Nathan, Tracy let Molly lick the cake spatula before putting the last dessert in the oven, and Matt told Mohinder about his day through the closed bedroom door as he changed. Although he had forgotten to go talk to Elle as Tracy had suggested, Mohinder finally felt as though the party might be getting off to a decent start. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.
The doorbell rang. Thinking it was Peter, Mohinder ran to answer it. He froze when he opened the door to a very good-looking young man who was dressed in an expensively tailored suit underneath the same Hugo Boss overcoat Elle had tried to get Mohinder to buy on Fifth Avenue a few days before. The man scrutinized him with piercing blue eyes.
Mohinder found himself more a little flustered by the supreme confidence the young man exuded even without saying a word. He wanted to slap himself for feeling insecure all of a sudden for no reason. “Hello? May---may I help you?” he asked the stranger. Mohinder assumed he must have the wrong address, but found himself proven wrong.
“I’m looking for Miss Elle Bishop,” the man drawled, in an English accent.
Before Mohinder had a chance to catch his breath and respond, Elle had crawled under his outstretched arm and launched herself into the arms of the stranger. “Adam!” she cried breathlessly.
“I bought you a present, princess.” Adam produced a large Tiffany box from behind his back. Elle squealed in delight and immediately ripped apart the wrapping paper. She opened the box to pull out a large, solid gold serving spoon engraved with the message, “To my darling Elle, from her very old friend Adam Monroe.”
“Oh, Adam, it’s beautiful!” she cried, and right after kissing him all over his face (except on the lips, Mohinder thankfully noticed), she held his hand and gave him a full blast of electricity. She grinned as she watched him heal. “Aw, I’ve missed doing that,” she said.
“I thought that after the passing of your dear father, I should give you something to remember him by.”
“I thought her father locked you up for thirty years,” Mohinder grumbled, feeling left out of not only this conversation, but also his own relationship.
“What’s thirty years when you have 400?” The piercing blue gaze was back on him. “Elle, dear, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Oh yeah. This is Dr. Mohinder Suresh. He does a lot of research on people like us. That over there is Nathan, and Tracy over there is one of some blonde triplets Mohinder is really close with. Everyone, this is my friend Adam.”
“You didn’t mention he was coming,” Mohinder said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Elle shrugged nastily. Tracy had been right; she was upset about something. “For a party that was supposed to be our party---and my idea---I realized this morning that everyone coming was your friend.”
“That’s because you don’t have---” Mohinder stopped himself as he realized how unkind what he was about to say sounded. He was upset and on edge, but he didn’t mean to hurt her. Too late, though, because Elle looked as though she’d been slapped. She opened her mouth a couple of times before grabbing Adam’s hand.
“Come on, Adam. Let’s catch up.” She dragged him over to the couch in the corner.
Adam looked at Nathan with interest as he was pulled past him. “You’re looking much better since the last time I saw you,” he observed.
Nathan looked up. “Do I know you?”
The doorbell rang again, and glad to have something to do to distract him from this unpleasant new situation, he rushed to the door. “This must be Peter, finally,” Mohinder said, after glancing quickly around the room to see who remained missing. However, instead of Peter, he found a blonde girl and two Asian men he didn’t know, one of whom was wearing ridiculous New Year’s Eve glasses with the zeros for the eyes between the 2 and the 8 in 2008.
“Happy New Year!” the goofier one exclaimed.
Mohinder was confused. Using his body to bar the strangers from entering as he turned to look back, he called, “Elle? More friends of yours?”
Sitting on the couch with Adam, Elle swiveled to peep through the door even from the other side of the living room. “Never seen them before in my life,” she remarked nonchalantly, before turning back to continue talking to Adam, around whom her arm and leg were draped. She stretched a never-dying stream of electricity between her index finger and his nose. Mohinder felt the angry monster of jealousy rearing its head in the pit of his stomach again at the sight of her openly canoodling with some other man in his---their---his, dammit, house.
Mohinder tried to put the thoughts out of his mind and stomach by focusing on the problem at hand. “I think you have the wrong apartment,” he patiently told the strangers, despite the nagging feeling he had that they looked vaguely familiar.
“No, this is the right apartment. I’m Hiro. This is Ando. And this is Nemesis. You invited us to your party tonight.”
Mohinder knew he could be absent-minded, but this was too much. “I did?”
“Yes, next month,” the taller one answered. “We were in the future yesterday, and you told us that you thought you would be glad to have us at your party today.”
“You told us to tell you hi. Hi,” added the blonde.
“I---” Mohinder trailed off. There really was no reply to this. He was trying to think of a way to get rid of these madmen when the silly one with the glasses pushed his head past Mohinder and into the apartment. Spying Nathan, he threw his arms into the air in excitement, hitting Mohinder in the face.
“Frying Man!” he exclaimed. Nathan turned around and broke into an indulgent grin.
“Hiro? What are you doing here?” He came over to the doorway and pushed Mohinder out of the way to pat Hiro jovially on the shoulder. “Good to see you.”
“You know these people?” Mohinder asked, shocked not only that the wild story might actually be true, but also that Nathan was so friendly with such weirdoes.
“Yeah, we go way back,” Nathan replied. “Long time no see…” he began. The threesome followed Nathan into the apartment, leaving Mohinder standing stupidly in the doorway. His eyes wandered jealously back to Adam and Elle, who had finally taken notice of the new arrivals.
“Carp!” Adam shouted.
“Hello, Kensei,” Hiro replied. Mohinder thought to himself that these were oddly named people.
“Are we still on for Tuesday?” Adam asked. Hiro nodded, but instead of going to talk to him, he and Ando went off with Nathan to get drinks from the fridge, leaving the girl with Mohinder, who felt another wave of horror at finding himself having to talk to another stranger. He was feeling awkward, and so poured himself and the girl a big glass of champagne.
He cleared his throat and said, “Hello. I’m Mohinder. But I suppose you already know that. Hm.” Mohinder stopped, realizing that this was a crazy way to go about this. Something that had struck him when she and the others first appeared came to mind. “So, that’s a really interesting name. Nemesis. Does it mean something in another language?”
She pursed her lips. Mohinder wondered if he had somehow said something offensive.
“My name is Daphne. Nothing interesting about that. Those two just call me Nemesis, like, as a joke. No one is named that.”
“Of course, of course. Sorry,” Mohinder agreed. This was going badly. He took another big swig of his drink.
Daphne leaned forward conspiratorially. “Hey, don’t look now, but can you tell me who that dude is?”
“Who?” Mohinder’s head swung wildly, and Daphne clicked her teeth.
“I said don’t look, didn’t I? That big guy talking to the drunk politician.”
Mohinder had taken this in on his last look around. “Oh, that’s Matt Parkman. Have you two met before?”
Daphne shook her head. “No, that’s the thing. I’ve never seen him before in my life, but he’s been staring at me really creepily since I came in. I wish he would stop. What’s his deal?”
Mohinder looked at Matt, who indeed was staring transfixed at Daphne even as Tracy was in the middle of telling him something. “I don’t know. He’s a policeman. He actually used to live here, before Elle moved in. We share custody of that little girl there.”
Daphne laughed. “What, like My Two Dads?”
“Yes.” Mohinder had long tired of questions from new people about his living arrangements.
“Cute. Crap, he’s headed over here. See ya.” And she super-zipped to the other side of the room to stand by Ando. The accompanying blast of wind further disrupted Mohinder’s already destroyed coiffure. Matt reached Mohinder’s side a few seconds too late.
“Drat,” he whined.
“What?” Mohinder asked.
But Matt never had a chance to answer because Molly came over. Seeing her reminded Mohinder that Peter still hadn’t arrived. He was worried.
“Molly, will you look for Peter? He said he’d come early, and he’s the last to arrive.”
Molly thought. “Costa Rica?”
“Oh no, not again,” Matt and Mohinder said in unison.
“Oh, getting warmer. Now he’s in Long Island City,” Molly updated.
“Maybe we should send Nathan after him? Or that girl? She seems like she can---” Matt began to suggest, but in the middle of his sentence, Peter suddenly appeared in front of them.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “Hey guys! Good to see you. Happy New Year’s.” He embraced Mohinder warmly and then bent down to hug Molly. His eyes drifted to a corner of the room. Peter froze upon recognizing Adam and Elle.
“What is he doing here?” Elle and Peter asked darkly at the same time, Elle looking at Peter, and Peter looking at Adam.
Mohinder’s hand found his face. How stupid of him.
“Hey,” Peter said shyly to Elle. “Sorry.”
Adam didn’t seem bothered by Peter’s arrival. But then again, he didn’t really seem bothered by anything. “Hello, Peter. Marvelous to see you. You’re looking well, but I doubt it’s possible for you to look anything other than well.” And he cackled at his own lame joke about his own power. Elle and Mohinder rolled their eyes.
Mohinder figured there was little he could do to smooth over the situation (and either way, Adam was doing a good job on his own), so he excused himself and went over to get more to drink. He came across Hiro, who was standing by the bar, playing with Molly, who was quickly fading into sleepiness. He would disappear for a second, return, and then ask Molly where he’d been. She clapped her hands in delight at this game, and every time, he would bring her back something small, like a flower or a croissant. After a couple of trips around the world, however, she found herself saying Barbados instead of Barbuda and Mohinder knew it was time to put her to bed. Both he and Hiro did it together, carrying her into her bedroom and getting her into her pajamas. Given how firmly she was asleep, Mohinder found himself wondering why her presence in the apartment had kept him and Elle for doing anything all week; Molly seemed likely to sleep through it.
He and Hiro then returned to the party and surveyed the scene. Nathan and Tracy were sharing jokes about the NYPD with Matt, who was looking furtively at Daphne, who was talking to Ando, who was unconsciously emitting red light that disconcerted Mohinder. His eyes wandered over to Peter, Adam and Elle. He decided this was a good time to get a second opinion on the man.
“So, how do you know Adam?” Mohinder asked.
Hiro’s face darkened for a moment. “He killed my father.”
“That’s quite a way to meet someone.”
“No, it is a longer story than that. We met in the 17th century. We were friends. I betrayed him. He betrayed me. A very long story. But since then, we have found a way to put the past behind us.”
Thinking of his own grudges, Mohinder said, “That’s rather forgiving. I don’t think I’d be able to be so friendly with the person who killed my father. I’d want to see him dead.”
Hiro shrugged. “With Adam Monroe, that is not an option. And I hear the same is true for the man who killed your father. So you must learn to get over it, as I have. Adam is teaching me and Ando how to be badass.”
There was an awkward pause as Mohinder mulled this over and ultimately decided he didn’t want to deal with that, so he changed the subject. “What does that entail?”
“How to walk tough, how to talk tough, how to… how do you say… score with the ladies. Look, he has taught us well. Ando and Nemesis seem to be…” Hiro’s vocabulary failed him here, so he pointed. Both he and Mohinder gaped at the pair, now aggressively sucking face.
“Speaking of which…” Mohinder looked back at Adam and Elle, still somewhat on top of one another, but now also talking to Peter, who seemed to have been charmed all over again by Adam and forgotten his earlier anger. They made a sickening threesome of electricity and regeneration, as she burned them black. They were regenerating faster than Mohinder had ever witnessed, and Mohinder vaguely heard Hiro saying something about Ando’s boosting power. Remembering all the times she’d told him how nervous she always was around him that she might hurt him, Mohinder felt discouraged to see Elle so giddy, and, as he looked around the gathering, realized with sadness that he was officially the only non-powered person at the party. “Adam certainly seems to be a master,” he sighed.
His reverie was broken by the sound of the doorbell. This was confusing because he definitely wasn’t expecting anyone else. It didn’t seem like Elle was either, but you could never tell with her. He was feeling doubly annoyed that he was always the one on door duty---didn’t anyone else ever hear the sound?---and therefore opened it with a huge scowl, which he was glad of when he saw Sylar standing in the hallway, looking drunk, sweaty, and sad.
Mohinder just sighed, and looked quickly behind him before stepping into the hallway so that no one would panic. Sylar took this opportunity to peek inside.
“Geez, Mohinder. Blonde, blonde, and blonder. Don’t you have any brunette female friends?” he asked teasingly just before Mohinder shut the door, thankful that no one had seen the new arrival. Mohinder took up a stance leaning with his back against the door.
“I did, actually,” he spat. “Eden. You may remember killing her.”
“Technically, she killed herself.”
“Oh, of course. That makes all the difference. What do you want?”
Sylar shrugged. “I waited and waited for an invitation. I assume it got lost in the mail.”
“You don’t have an address. You’re a wandering parasite, remember?”
“Maybe it got lost in one of those internet holes where emails disappear into?” Sylar suggested hopefully.
“You weren’t invited!” Mohinder flailed his arms in frustration. “We aren’t friends. We’re never going to be what you fantasize about in your sick mind. You stalk me closely enough to know that I’m with someone already, someone who isn’t you.”
Sylar shrugged. “The difference between stalking and persistence is success. Once you end this charade and give in to what I know you truly want, everyone will praise the tenacity of my suit.”
Mohinder was feeling desperate in the face of such tantalizing madness. “When will this all stop? When will you stop forcing me to tell you that I hate you?”
“When it stops tingling.”
Mohinder had no idea what that meant, but it was chilling. Champagne flew out of his glass as his arms rose in frustration, but Sylar stopped the liquid in mid-air and returned it safely to the glass.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.
“No, really, Sylar. What do you want?”
“I wrote a book.”
“You what?” Sylar pulled a ream of paper out of the backpack he carried and placed it lovingly into the crook of Mohinder’s arm. Mohinder staggered a bit under the sudden weight, and placed his glass on a ledge along the wall so he could hold onto the paper better.
“On one of my recent projects---” Sylar began to explain.
“You mean murders.”
“Semantics, Mohinder… You attention to detail is one of the many things I love about you, and actually that’s the reason I’m asking for your help. I finally figured it out, where in the brain it is and how it works.” Sylar pointed to the cover page, on which was written the title: How to Make Love Stay. “I don’t think it’s too late for us,” he added.
“You want me to read this?” Mohinder asked, still trying to figure out what it was Sylar was after.
“Not just read it, I want you to edit it. I’ve always admired your literary skills, your way with prose…”
Mohinder felt nauseous. There was only one extant example of his prose, and it wasn’t one he wanted Sylar knowing anything about. “How do you know anything about what I write? Have you been reading my journals?”
“They’re brilliant. If you could work the same magic on this…”
Mohinder was beyond fighting. He was actually feeling curious about this now; was there really a place in the brain that could control the duration of love? It was fascinating. He flipped through the manuscript, and realized it was printed double-sided. “Good god, man, how long is this?”
“946 pages.”
Mohinder rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I had much to say on the subject.”
The lure of Sylar’s prose, however long-winded, was something that Mohinder couldn’t resist. The inner workings of a madman; it promised to be insightful, and possibly hilarious. “If I read this, will you leave?”
Even Sylar knew this was best offer he was going to get. “Ok. I’ll be in touch when to meet to discuss your comments on it.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mohinder replied.
Sylar zipped his jacket back up and prepared to leave. “Goodnight, Mohinder. Happy New Year.”
Mohinder watched him disappear down the stairwell. “Happy New Year, Sylar,” he whispered.
He held his breath until he heard Sylar descend the last step and heard the click of the door to the building close behind him. Only then did he pick his glass back up and turn around to reenter his party. Unfortunately, he realized upon turning the knob that he had locked himself out. He knocked and banged and shouted, but no one inside came to his aid. Mrs. Treseuski down the hall poked her head out of her apartment and glared at him. She’d never liked Mohinder; she said there were always strange and suspicious things going on in his apartment, and that he was bringing the neighborhood down. She was more right than she knew. Mohinder tried calling the house phone from his cell, but no one picked up. He decided to give one last effort before giving up and running to ask for help from Sylar, whom he was pretty sure was still lurking in the neighborhood, stalking him.
In mid-knock, the door opened to reveal Adam, calm as a cucumber and with the demeanor of a man who owned the place.
“Why, Dr.Suresh---may I call you Mohinder---what a pleasure to see you.” He gracefully refilled Mohinder’s glass from the bottle he was holding.
“Thanks for letting me in,” Mohinder said, and moved into the apartment.
“What’s that?” Adam asked, catching sight of the manuscript.
Mohinder looked down at the package in his hands and sighed. “My life.”
That got Adam interested as he followed Mohinder into his bedroom. “Ooh, is it an autobiography? How interesting. You know, I’ve always wanted to write one, but my life is just so fantastical and fascinating that I doubt anyone would ever find it true.”
Mohinder didn’t even bother to correct him. Ignoring the other man's pompousness, he simply unlocked the enameled box in which he kept his journals and placed the manuscript carefully inside. When he had locked it up again, he found Adam sitting expectantly on the side of the bed with a seductive smile on his face.
“Er…” Mohinder began, trying to think of a way to get out of there and back to the party.
Adam patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come, Mohinder. Let’s get to know one another.”
Adam must have had his own brand of telekinesis, because Mohinder found himself sitting in the desired spot on the bed without quite knowing why.
“Elle’s been telling me all about you,” he purred. “About your research, your ambition, your hard work. You sound like a great scientist.”
Mohinder tried to brush both the words and Adam’s looming physical presence aside. “Oh, I’m sure she exaggerates.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t. I’d love to learn more about what you do---from you. I think I have a project you’d be perfect for.”
“I… er---” Mohinder found himself sweating. Adam’s hand was now on his knee.
“Perhaps over lunch sometime this week? We could go anywhere---do anything---you like.”
There was a knock on the wall by the door to the bedroom and Mohinder looked up to find Matt standing there sheepishly. “Am I interrupting something?”
Mohinder was incredibly grateful for Matt’s arrival as a way to get out of this. “No, not at all! Matt, have you met Adam Monroe?”
Adam pursed his lips in distaste at the interruption as he also stood up. “We’ve been introduced,” he said, and moved to leave the room. “Don’t forget what I said, Mohinder.”
Mohinder was finally able to exhale and stretched his hands behind him on the bed, relaxing. Worryingly, however, it occurred to him that he’d just been hit on by two superpowered megalomaniacs in the space of ten minutes. Two male superpowered megalomaniacs. Was there something about him?
Next thing Mohinder knew, Matt had sat down on the bed and wrapped an arm around him. “So, you and me, we’re close, right?”
“Ack! What are you doing?” Mohinder squealed and squirmed out of the embrace. Not another one.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to butter you up. I’m not a megalomaniac, I swear.”
Mohinder had become accustomed to Matt reading his mind and had lost the drive to yell at him each time. “Butter me up for what?”
“I want you to introduce me to that girl. I’ve been trying, and everyone keeps being awkward about it. She’s my destiny.”
Mohinder pointed into the living room. “It must be a far-off destiny, because she seems currently occupied.” In fact, Daphne was currently feeding Ando grapes.
“One day she’ll be mine. I just know it. I just need an introduction and then I can be persistent…”
Mohinder remembered what Sylar had said about the difference between stalking and persistence.
“Please, Matt, as a favor to me, just let it go.”
“Why?” Matt was curious. Mohinder had never shown any interest, negative or positive, in his love life before.
Mohinder sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. And please don’t read my mind.”
“Speaking of persistence, Mohinder, you’re in need of some.”
“What are you talking about?”
Matt pointed. “Those three. Are you alright with that?”
Mohinder knew where he was pointing, but was too disconsolate about it to look. “No, I’m not. But maybe I’m just not special enough for her. Too normal.”
Matt snickered. “You may not have powers, but you’re anything but normal, Mohinder.”
“I don’t regenerate,” he whined. “How can I compete with that?”
“Of all the things to complain about. No one regenerates… well, ok, I know three people who do. But I don’t think that should be a pre-requisite for your relationship. And anyway, you’ve got the wrong problem.”
“What are you talking about?”
Matt took a deep breath. “She’s frustrated because she just moved in here and you’ve been at work every night this week and haven’t seen her. She’s sexually frustrated because you haven’t schtupped her in a week. And because she thinks you’ve been having threesomes---maybe even foursomes---with the blonde bombshell of many names. And she’s mad because you haven’t paid her any attention all ni---”
“But---” Mohinder began to interject hotly, but Matt held up a finger and continued.
“And yeah, she wishes she didn’t have to always worry about repressing her power around you for fear of hurting you, but she wishes you would stop being so passive-aggressively anxious about the whole thing. Oh, and she’s also insecure about not having any friends, and is therefore annoyed that Adam seems so interested in you when the reason she invited him was so she could have someone be interested in her, since you’re obviously not doing the job.”
“How do you know all this?” Mohinder asked, wondering for a second if Matt had suddenly become someone else for him to be jealous of.
Matt tapped his forehead. “Duh. The details about your sex life were something I really didn’t need to hear---gross---so don’t bother being mad at me. I’ve been punished enough.”
Mohinder battled within himself. On the one hand, he really ought to take Matt to task for having invaded Elle’s privacy so, but on the other, he’d provided such useful information that he never would have guessed otherwise. Maybe Tracy was right; maybe he was bad with women.
Mohinder made a resolution.
“Here. Hold this.” Mohinder stood up and dramatically shoved his glass into Matt’s hand, spilling half the contents on Matt’s shirt in the process.
“What’s this about?”
“I’m going to assert my heterosexual dominance,” Mohinder seethed.
Matt burst into laughter.
“What exactly is so funny?” asked Mohinder.
Matt was still laughing but managed to choke out, “Nothing. Just… good luck with that.”
Mohinder glared at him and stormed into the living room.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5970
Summary: The heroes descend upon the Suresh apartment for a New Year's Eve party
A/N: I've only included the bits of season three that I like (ie. the existence of Daphne and Tracy) and only the pairings that I like (mostly non-canon). This is the first time I've written so many characters, so it's a little disjointed, but hopefully somewhat amusing.
Elle slammed her hand dramatically against the wall. “Harder, Mohinder, harder!” she cried breathlessly.
Mohinder stopped pounding his carpaccio for a moment to give her a withering look. “I know what you’re doing,” he said, before once again focusing his attention on the meat tenderizer.
Just out of the bathroom (into which Molly had immediately gone), Elle let out an aggrieved moan as she abandoned her sensual stance and slinked over to stand behind him. Sliding her arms around his body and delicately pushing a couple of fingers between the buttons on his shirt to feel his chest hair, she got up on tiptoes and breathed hotly into his ear.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Just a few minutes. We don’t have much time.”
“Exactly. Which is why we shouldn’t waste it on pointless groping,” he replied unconvincingly, his body belying his words as he melted backwards into her.
“Pointless? Is that what you call it?” Elle froze, and there was a dangerous edge in her voice that Mohinder was brave (or foolish) enough to ignore.
“Yes, that’s what I call it when it can’t go anywhere. Please,” Mohinder whispered. “I don’t want to get… excited right now.”
Nothing had worked out according to plan. The lease for the West Village apartment they had expected to move into a few days before had been delayed, so she’d had to spend her first week of living with Mohinder in the crummy, old, half-packed-up, Brooklyn apartment. Not only that, but the walls were entirely too thin for them to have been able to do anything interesting so far, since Matt had had to take an unexpected trip to LA and had therefore switched the week he was supposed to have had Molly. At least they could look forward to the fact that the bedrooms in the new place would be at opposite ends of the apartment, making it almost impossible for the little girl to hear anything traumatizing.
In the meantime, Elle’s hand wandered ever lower down Mohinder’s chest and finally reached---
Hearing the bathroom door unlock, Mohinder stepped quickly to the side, out of her grasp. Elle stamped her feet and zapped the Christmas tree in frustration. A branch burst into flames, and the smell of burning tinsel wafted into the kitchen area.
“I’ll get that.” Molly, in her best party dress, immediately went to fetch some water and paper towels.
“Sorry about that,” Elle, suddenly chastened, apologized, and went to help Molly. Mohinder kept pounding the meat. Everyone had become accustomed to these daily accidents.
When the small blaze was put out, Elle slumped into a chair and lovingly clutched her cocktail. “What else is left to do, Momo darling?” she asked.
Mohinder had been making an effort to keep his spirits as festive as possible, but in the back of his head, he still found himself calculating the probability of a certain recessive gene that had plaguing him all week. He hadn’t been able to sleep for worrying about it, and in fact had stopped coming home at a reasonable hour, in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be much fun anyway. Having finally arranged the carpaccio on a plate, Mohinder turned around and leaned on the counter.
“Actually, I bought some lights, but I forgot to get a step-ladder so I can put them up along the walls.” He moved to retrieve a box from a corner of the living room .
Elle fingered the string of Christmas lights as if she were allergic to them. “Multi-colored?” she asked incredulously.
“Of course! They’ll spruce the place up… hide the walls.”
“I don’t do colored lights,” Elle sneered.
Mohinder shrugged. “Too bad. If you can find a way to reach and put those up, I’ll work on cleaning up a little more.”
The doorbell rang and all three jumped.
“I didn’t think anyone was coming for another hour,” Elle mused.
“Er, that’s my fault,” Molly piped up.
“What?” the two adults asked.
“I wanted the party to get going before I fell asleep. So before you sent the email about the party being here instead of the new apartment, I put in a sentence about the time changing, too.”
“Molly, how could you?” Mohinder (almost) yelled. Even Elle looked dismayed.
Molly shrugged. “It’s not like this place would have looked all that much better in another hour.”
Mohinder opened the door to an already intoxicated, party hat wearing Nathan and a prickly-looking Tracy.
“Hey Suresh, happy New Year’s,” Nathan boomed, and grabbed Mohinder, who squirmed miserably as Nathan gave him a noogie. “Christ, man! Hair gel, much?” he asked.
After having successfully destroyed Mohinder’s carefully constructed mane of curls, as well as having brought back painful memories of primary school, the errant senator swaggered into the apartment to say hello to Molly. Mohinder and Tracy were left by the door to do a nervous dance in which Mohinder offered her his hand to shake, thought better of it, pulled it away, and looked apologetically frightened. She did the same. After a few more permutations, he leaned in to almost brush her cheek with his lips, taking care to not actually touch.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” she softly reassured him.
“Neither will I,” he affirmed in a whisper. Tracy finally warmed into a smile. They stared at one another a little longer and fell then into an awkward sort of forgiving hug. She held up a clanking shopping bag. “We brought lots of champagne.”
“Thank you! I’ll take that,” Mohinder heard Elle interrupt behind him. Mohinder turned around to see her simultaneously glaring at him, and simpering at the lascivious stare Nathan was giving her. She now came forward to snatch the bag from Tracy’s hands. “I’m Elle,” she stated menacingly.
Tracy looked confused at this stranger’s inexplicable attitude, but remained ever the professional. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tracy.”
“You’re Suresh’s girlfriend?” Nathan asked incredulously before looking up to wink at Mohinder. “I didn’t think you had it in you, doc. Nice work!”
“Don’t congratulate him yet,” Elle said through gritted teeth. Now Mohinder joined Tracy in wondering what Elle’s problem was. Nathan just smiled and went over to say hi to Molly. He picked her up and whizzed her gleefully around the room.
“Hey!” Molly told Nathan. “You can help us hang the Christmas lights. Mohinder forgot to buy a ladder.”
“Sure thing, doll.” He took the string of lights and tape Molly handed him and started on the task despite Mohinder’s weak protestations. Flying up to the ceiling, he attached the string to different points on the walls.
“So, how do you two know each other so well?” Elle asked Tracy. The dangerous look was still in her eyes.
Mohinder and Tracy looked confused again, blushed, and stammered alternately before Tracy finally articulated, “Well, Mohinder was really close with my sister Niki… and then we met through Nathan.”
“You have a sister?”
“Two actually… it’s a long story. We were triplets.”
Elle’s eyebrows almost touched her hairline now. “Blonde triplets?”
“Yes, and all three injected with the serum. Isn’t it insane?” Mohinder answered in a friendly way, eyes gleaming with scientific interest.
Elle didn’t share the same interest. “Fascinating. Weird that you never mentioned them, Mohinder.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tracy asked quickly.
“I feel terrible putting my guests to work…” Mohinder began.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Tracy said when the pause due Mohinder’s panicked thought process went on a little too long. “Nathan’s already doing something. There’s got to be a job for me.”
Mohinder had an idea, and beamed brightly at Tracy. “Well, Elle did forget to buy enough ice…”
“Great! I’ll get right on that.” Tracy picked up the ice bucket, took it to the sink, and dumped tray after tray of instantly created ice into it. Standing unconsciously and inappropriately close, Mohinder watched her, enthralled, and with the goofy smile that always crept onto his face as he watched special abilities at work. The sound of the bedroom door slamming made him finally look up, and he saw Molly riding piggy-back on Nathan as he made his way around the ceiling.
“Molly! No flying in the house,” he called exasperatedly. “Nathan, please don’t encourage her. It isn’t safe.”
“Not safe? I’m insulted.”
“You’re also drunk,” Mohinder snapped.
Nathan nodded and stuck out his lower lip. “Fair point. Sorry, sweetie.” Nathan landed just long enough to deposit Molly on the couch before floating back up to the ceiling again.
“Aww! You’re no fun, Mohinder!” Molly complained.
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Nathan rejoined.
“Where did your girlfriend go?” Tracy asked.
Mohinder was still mesmerized by Tracy’s ability to create ice cubes in seconds, and so responded absently. “I don’t know. I suppose into the bedroom.”
“I’d check on her if I were you. She’s upset.”
“How do you know?” Mohinder asked. Elle had been acting strangely a second ago, but he didn’t know why, and hadn’t thought it was serious.
Tracy laughed. “You’re not very good with women, are you?”
Before Mohinder even had a chance to get huffy about her presumption, he was distracted by Matt letting himself into the apartment with the key he still retained.
“Hey,” he said. He was still wearing his uniform. “I’m just going to change and then I’ll be right out with you guys.”
Somehow, his arrival lightened the mood. Elle came out of the bedroom and started talking to Nathan, Tracy let Molly lick the cake spatula before putting the last dessert in the oven, and Matt told Mohinder about his day through the closed bedroom door as he changed. Although he had forgotten to go talk to Elle as Tracy had suggested, Mohinder finally felt as though the party might be getting off to a decent start. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.
The doorbell rang. Thinking it was Peter, Mohinder ran to answer it. He froze when he opened the door to a very good-looking young man who was dressed in an expensively tailored suit underneath the same Hugo Boss overcoat Elle had tried to get Mohinder to buy on Fifth Avenue a few days before. The man scrutinized him with piercing blue eyes.
Mohinder found himself more a little flustered by the supreme confidence the young man exuded even without saying a word. He wanted to slap himself for feeling insecure all of a sudden for no reason. “Hello? May---may I help you?” he asked the stranger. Mohinder assumed he must have the wrong address, but found himself proven wrong.
“I’m looking for Miss Elle Bishop,” the man drawled, in an English accent.
Before Mohinder had a chance to catch his breath and respond, Elle had crawled under his outstretched arm and launched herself into the arms of the stranger. “Adam!” she cried breathlessly.
“I bought you a present, princess.” Adam produced a large Tiffany box from behind his back. Elle squealed in delight and immediately ripped apart the wrapping paper. She opened the box to pull out a large, solid gold serving spoon engraved with the message, “To my darling Elle, from her very old friend Adam Monroe.”
“Oh, Adam, it’s beautiful!” she cried, and right after kissing him all over his face (except on the lips, Mohinder thankfully noticed), she held his hand and gave him a full blast of electricity. She grinned as she watched him heal. “Aw, I’ve missed doing that,” she said.
“I thought that after the passing of your dear father, I should give you something to remember him by.”
“I thought her father locked you up for thirty years,” Mohinder grumbled, feeling left out of not only this conversation, but also his own relationship.
“What’s thirty years when you have 400?” The piercing blue gaze was back on him. “Elle, dear, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Oh yeah. This is Dr. Mohinder Suresh. He does a lot of research on people like us. That over there is Nathan, and Tracy over there is one of some blonde triplets Mohinder is really close with. Everyone, this is my friend Adam.”
“You didn’t mention he was coming,” Mohinder said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Elle shrugged nastily. Tracy had been right; she was upset about something. “For a party that was supposed to be our party---and my idea---I realized this morning that everyone coming was your friend.”
“That’s because you don’t have---” Mohinder stopped himself as he realized how unkind what he was about to say sounded. He was upset and on edge, but he didn’t mean to hurt her. Too late, though, because Elle looked as though she’d been slapped. She opened her mouth a couple of times before grabbing Adam’s hand.
“Come on, Adam. Let’s catch up.” She dragged him over to the couch in the corner.
Adam looked at Nathan with interest as he was pulled past him. “You’re looking much better since the last time I saw you,” he observed.
Nathan looked up. “Do I know you?”
The doorbell rang again, and glad to have something to do to distract him from this unpleasant new situation, he rushed to the door. “This must be Peter, finally,” Mohinder said, after glancing quickly around the room to see who remained missing. However, instead of Peter, he found a blonde girl and two Asian men he didn’t know, one of whom was wearing ridiculous New Year’s Eve glasses with the zeros for the eyes between the 2 and the 8 in 2008.
“Happy New Year!” the goofier one exclaimed.
Mohinder was confused. Using his body to bar the strangers from entering as he turned to look back, he called, “Elle? More friends of yours?”
Sitting on the couch with Adam, Elle swiveled to peep through the door even from the other side of the living room. “Never seen them before in my life,” she remarked nonchalantly, before turning back to continue talking to Adam, around whom her arm and leg were draped. She stretched a never-dying stream of electricity between her index finger and his nose. Mohinder felt the angry monster of jealousy rearing its head in the pit of his stomach again at the sight of her openly canoodling with some other man in his---their---his, dammit, house.
Mohinder tried to put the thoughts out of his mind and stomach by focusing on the problem at hand. “I think you have the wrong apartment,” he patiently told the strangers, despite the nagging feeling he had that they looked vaguely familiar.
“No, this is the right apartment. I’m Hiro. This is Ando. And this is Nemesis. You invited us to your party tonight.”
Mohinder knew he could be absent-minded, but this was too much. “I did?”
“Yes, next month,” the taller one answered. “We were in the future yesterday, and you told us that you thought you would be glad to have us at your party today.”
“You told us to tell you hi. Hi,” added the blonde.
“I---” Mohinder trailed off. There really was no reply to this. He was trying to think of a way to get rid of these madmen when the silly one with the glasses pushed his head past Mohinder and into the apartment. Spying Nathan, he threw his arms into the air in excitement, hitting Mohinder in the face.
“Frying Man!” he exclaimed. Nathan turned around and broke into an indulgent grin.
“Hiro? What are you doing here?” He came over to the doorway and pushed Mohinder out of the way to pat Hiro jovially on the shoulder. “Good to see you.”
“You know these people?” Mohinder asked, shocked not only that the wild story might actually be true, but also that Nathan was so friendly with such weirdoes.
“Yeah, we go way back,” Nathan replied. “Long time no see…” he began. The threesome followed Nathan into the apartment, leaving Mohinder standing stupidly in the doorway. His eyes wandered jealously back to Adam and Elle, who had finally taken notice of the new arrivals.
“Carp!” Adam shouted.
“Hello, Kensei,” Hiro replied. Mohinder thought to himself that these were oddly named people.
“Are we still on for Tuesday?” Adam asked. Hiro nodded, but instead of going to talk to him, he and Ando went off with Nathan to get drinks from the fridge, leaving the girl with Mohinder, who felt another wave of horror at finding himself having to talk to another stranger. He was feeling awkward, and so poured himself and the girl a big glass of champagne.
He cleared his throat and said, “Hello. I’m Mohinder. But I suppose you already know that. Hm.” Mohinder stopped, realizing that this was a crazy way to go about this. Something that had struck him when she and the others first appeared came to mind. “So, that’s a really interesting name. Nemesis. Does it mean something in another language?”
She pursed her lips. Mohinder wondered if he had somehow said something offensive.
“My name is Daphne. Nothing interesting about that. Those two just call me Nemesis, like, as a joke. No one is named that.”
“Of course, of course. Sorry,” Mohinder agreed. This was going badly. He took another big swig of his drink.
Daphne leaned forward conspiratorially. “Hey, don’t look now, but can you tell me who that dude is?”
“Who?” Mohinder’s head swung wildly, and Daphne clicked her teeth.
“I said don’t look, didn’t I? That big guy talking to the drunk politician.”
Mohinder had taken this in on his last look around. “Oh, that’s Matt Parkman. Have you two met before?”
Daphne shook her head. “No, that’s the thing. I’ve never seen him before in my life, but he’s been staring at me really creepily since I came in. I wish he would stop. What’s his deal?”
Mohinder looked at Matt, who indeed was staring transfixed at Daphne even as Tracy was in the middle of telling him something. “I don’t know. He’s a policeman. He actually used to live here, before Elle moved in. We share custody of that little girl there.”
Daphne laughed. “What, like My Two Dads?”
“Yes.” Mohinder had long tired of questions from new people about his living arrangements.
“Cute. Crap, he’s headed over here. See ya.” And she super-zipped to the other side of the room to stand by Ando. The accompanying blast of wind further disrupted Mohinder’s already destroyed coiffure. Matt reached Mohinder’s side a few seconds too late.
“Drat,” he whined.
“What?” Mohinder asked.
But Matt never had a chance to answer because Molly came over. Seeing her reminded Mohinder that Peter still hadn’t arrived. He was worried.
“Molly, will you look for Peter? He said he’d come early, and he’s the last to arrive.”
Molly thought. “Costa Rica?”
“Oh no, not again,” Matt and Mohinder said in unison.
“Oh, getting warmer. Now he’s in Long Island City,” Molly updated.
“Maybe we should send Nathan after him? Or that girl? She seems like she can---” Matt began to suggest, but in the middle of his sentence, Peter suddenly appeared in front of them.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “Hey guys! Good to see you. Happy New Year’s.” He embraced Mohinder warmly and then bent down to hug Molly. His eyes drifted to a corner of the room. Peter froze upon recognizing Adam and Elle.
“What is he doing here?” Elle and Peter asked darkly at the same time, Elle looking at Peter, and Peter looking at Adam.
Mohinder’s hand found his face. How stupid of him.
“Hey,” Peter said shyly to Elle. “Sorry.”
Adam didn’t seem bothered by Peter’s arrival. But then again, he didn’t really seem bothered by anything. “Hello, Peter. Marvelous to see you. You’re looking well, but I doubt it’s possible for you to look anything other than well.” And he cackled at his own lame joke about his own power. Elle and Mohinder rolled their eyes.
Mohinder figured there was little he could do to smooth over the situation (and either way, Adam was doing a good job on his own), so he excused himself and went over to get more to drink. He came across Hiro, who was standing by the bar, playing with Molly, who was quickly fading into sleepiness. He would disappear for a second, return, and then ask Molly where he’d been. She clapped her hands in delight at this game, and every time, he would bring her back something small, like a flower or a croissant. After a couple of trips around the world, however, she found herself saying Barbados instead of Barbuda and Mohinder knew it was time to put her to bed. Both he and Hiro did it together, carrying her into her bedroom and getting her into her pajamas. Given how firmly she was asleep, Mohinder found himself wondering why her presence in the apartment had kept him and Elle for doing anything all week; Molly seemed likely to sleep through it.
He and Hiro then returned to the party and surveyed the scene. Nathan and Tracy were sharing jokes about the NYPD with Matt, who was looking furtively at Daphne, who was talking to Ando, who was unconsciously emitting red light that disconcerted Mohinder. His eyes wandered over to Peter, Adam and Elle. He decided this was a good time to get a second opinion on the man.
“So, how do you know Adam?” Mohinder asked.
Hiro’s face darkened for a moment. “He killed my father.”
“That’s quite a way to meet someone.”
“No, it is a longer story than that. We met in the 17th century. We were friends. I betrayed him. He betrayed me. A very long story. But since then, we have found a way to put the past behind us.”
Thinking of his own grudges, Mohinder said, “That’s rather forgiving. I don’t think I’d be able to be so friendly with the person who killed my father. I’d want to see him dead.”
Hiro shrugged. “With Adam Monroe, that is not an option. And I hear the same is true for the man who killed your father. So you must learn to get over it, as I have. Adam is teaching me and Ando how to be badass.”
There was an awkward pause as Mohinder mulled this over and ultimately decided he didn’t want to deal with that, so he changed the subject. “What does that entail?”
“How to walk tough, how to talk tough, how to… how do you say… score with the ladies. Look, he has taught us well. Ando and Nemesis seem to be…” Hiro’s vocabulary failed him here, so he pointed. Both he and Mohinder gaped at the pair, now aggressively sucking face.
“Speaking of which…” Mohinder looked back at Adam and Elle, still somewhat on top of one another, but now also talking to Peter, who seemed to have been charmed all over again by Adam and forgotten his earlier anger. They made a sickening threesome of electricity and regeneration, as she burned them black. They were regenerating faster than Mohinder had ever witnessed, and Mohinder vaguely heard Hiro saying something about Ando’s boosting power. Remembering all the times she’d told him how nervous she always was around him that she might hurt him, Mohinder felt discouraged to see Elle so giddy, and, as he looked around the gathering, realized with sadness that he was officially the only non-powered person at the party. “Adam certainly seems to be a master,” he sighed.
His reverie was broken by the sound of the doorbell. This was confusing because he definitely wasn’t expecting anyone else. It didn’t seem like Elle was either, but you could never tell with her. He was feeling doubly annoyed that he was always the one on door duty---didn’t anyone else ever hear the sound?---and therefore opened it with a huge scowl, which he was glad of when he saw Sylar standing in the hallway, looking drunk, sweaty, and sad.
Mohinder just sighed, and looked quickly behind him before stepping into the hallway so that no one would panic. Sylar took this opportunity to peek inside.
“Geez, Mohinder. Blonde, blonde, and blonder. Don’t you have any brunette female friends?” he asked teasingly just before Mohinder shut the door, thankful that no one had seen the new arrival. Mohinder took up a stance leaning with his back against the door.
“I did, actually,” he spat. “Eden. You may remember killing her.”
“Technically, she killed herself.”
“Oh, of course. That makes all the difference. What do you want?”
Sylar shrugged. “I waited and waited for an invitation. I assume it got lost in the mail.”
“You don’t have an address. You’re a wandering parasite, remember?”
“Maybe it got lost in one of those internet holes where emails disappear into?” Sylar suggested hopefully.
“You weren’t invited!” Mohinder flailed his arms in frustration. “We aren’t friends. We’re never going to be what you fantasize about in your sick mind. You stalk me closely enough to know that I’m with someone already, someone who isn’t you.”
Sylar shrugged. “The difference between stalking and persistence is success. Once you end this charade and give in to what I know you truly want, everyone will praise the tenacity of my suit.”
Mohinder was feeling desperate in the face of such tantalizing madness. “When will this all stop? When will you stop forcing me to tell you that I hate you?”
“When it stops tingling.”
Mohinder had no idea what that meant, but it was chilling. Champagne flew out of his glass as his arms rose in frustration, but Sylar stopped the liquid in mid-air and returned it safely to the glass.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.
“No, really, Sylar. What do you want?”
“I wrote a book.”
“You what?” Sylar pulled a ream of paper out of the backpack he carried and placed it lovingly into the crook of Mohinder’s arm. Mohinder staggered a bit under the sudden weight, and placed his glass on a ledge along the wall so he could hold onto the paper better.
“On one of my recent projects---” Sylar began to explain.
“You mean murders.”
“Semantics, Mohinder… You attention to detail is one of the many things I love about you, and actually that’s the reason I’m asking for your help. I finally figured it out, where in the brain it is and how it works.” Sylar pointed to the cover page, on which was written the title: How to Make Love Stay. “I don’t think it’s too late for us,” he added.
“You want me to read this?” Mohinder asked, still trying to figure out what it was Sylar was after.
“Not just read it, I want you to edit it. I’ve always admired your literary skills, your way with prose…”
Mohinder felt nauseous. There was only one extant example of his prose, and it wasn’t one he wanted Sylar knowing anything about. “How do you know anything about what I write? Have you been reading my journals?”
“They’re brilliant. If you could work the same magic on this…”
Mohinder was beyond fighting. He was actually feeling curious about this now; was there really a place in the brain that could control the duration of love? It was fascinating. He flipped through the manuscript, and realized it was printed double-sided. “Good god, man, how long is this?”
“946 pages.”
Mohinder rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I had much to say on the subject.”
The lure of Sylar’s prose, however long-winded, was something that Mohinder couldn’t resist. The inner workings of a madman; it promised to be insightful, and possibly hilarious. “If I read this, will you leave?”
Even Sylar knew this was best offer he was going to get. “Ok. I’ll be in touch when to meet to discuss your comments on it.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mohinder replied.
Sylar zipped his jacket back up and prepared to leave. “Goodnight, Mohinder. Happy New Year.”
Mohinder watched him disappear down the stairwell. “Happy New Year, Sylar,” he whispered.
He held his breath until he heard Sylar descend the last step and heard the click of the door to the building close behind him. Only then did he pick his glass back up and turn around to reenter his party. Unfortunately, he realized upon turning the knob that he had locked himself out. He knocked and banged and shouted, but no one inside came to his aid. Mrs. Treseuski down the hall poked her head out of her apartment and glared at him. She’d never liked Mohinder; she said there were always strange and suspicious things going on in his apartment, and that he was bringing the neighborhood down. She was more right than she knew. Mohinder tried calling the house phone from his cell, but no one picked up. He decided to give one last effort before giving up and running to ask for help from Sylar, whom he was pretty sure was still lurking in the neighborhood, stalking him.
In mid-knock, the door opened to reveal Adam, calm as a cucumber and with the demeanor of a man who owned the place.
“Why, Dr.Suresh---may I call you Mohinder---what a pleasure to see you.” He gracefully refilled Mohinder’s glass from the bottle he was holding.
“Thanks for letting me in,” Mohinder said, and moved into the apartment.
“What’s that?” Adam asked, catching sight of the manuscript.
Mohinder looked down at the package in his hands and sighed. “My life.”
That got Adam interested as he followed Mohinder into his bedroom. “Ooh, is it an autobiography? How interesting. You know, I’ve always wanted to write one, but my life is just so fantastical and fascinating that I doubt anyone would ever find it true.”
Mohinder didn’t even bother to correct him. Ignoring the other man's pompousness, he simply unlocked the enameled box in which he kept his journals and placed the manuscript carefully inside. When he had locked it up again, he found Adam sitting expectantly on the side of the bed with a seductive smile on his face.
“Er…” Mohinder began, trying to think of a way to get out of there and back to the party.
Adam patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come, Mohinder. Let’s get to know one another.”
Adam must have had his own brand of telekinesis, because Mohinder found himself sitting in the desired spot on the bed without quite knowing why.
“Elle’s been telling me all about you,” he purred. “About your research, your ambition, your hard work. You sound like a great scientist.”
Mohinder tried to brush both the words and Adam’s looming physical presence aside. “Oh, I’m sure she exaggerates.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t. I’d love to learn more about what you do---from you. I think I have a project you’d be perfect for.”
“I… er---” Mohinder found himself sweating. Adam’s hand was now on his knee.
“Perhaps over lunch sometime this week? We could go anywhere---do anything---you like.”
There was a knock on the wall by the door to the bedroom and Mohinder looked up to find Matt standing there sheepishly. “Am I interrupting something?”
Mohinder was incredibly grateful for Matt’s arrival as a way to get out of this. “No, not at all! Matt, have you met Adam Monroe?”
Adam pursed his lips in distaste at the interruption as he also stood up. “We’ve been introduced,” he said, and moved to leave the room. “Don’t forget what I said, Mohinder.”
Mohinder was finally able to exhale and stretched his hands behind him on the bed, relaxing. Worryingly, however, it occurred to him that he’d just been hit on by two superpowered megalomaniacs in the space of ten minutes. Two male superpowered megalomaniacs. Was there something about him?
Next thing Mohinder knew, Matt had sat down on the bed and wrapped an arm around him. “So, you and me, we’re close, right?”
“Ack! What are you doing?” Mohinder squealed and squirmed out of the embrace. Not another one.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to butter you up. I’m not a megalomaniac, I swear.”
Mohinder had become accustomed to Matt reading his mind and had lost the drive to yell at him each time. “Butter me up for what?”
“I want you to introduce me to that girl. I’ve been trying, and everyone keeps being awkward about it. She’s my destiny.”
Mohinder pointed into the living room. “It must be a far-off destiny, because she seems currently occupied.” In fact, Daphne was currently feeding Ando grapes.
“One day she’ll be mine. I just know it. I just need an introduction and then I can be persistent…”
Mohinder remembered what Sylar had said about the difference between stalking and persistence.
“Please, Matt, as a favor to me, just let it go.”
“Why?” Matt was curious. Mohinder had never shown any interest, negative or positive, in his love life before.
Mohinder sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. And please don’t read my mind.”
“Speaking of persistence, Mohinder, you’re in need of some.”
“What are you talking about?”
Matt pointed. “Those three. Are you alright with that?”
Mohinder knew where he was pointing, but was too disconsolate about it to look. “No, I’m not. But maybe I’m just not special enough for her. Too normal.”
Matt snickered. “You may not have powers, but you’re anything but normal, Mohinder.”
“I don’t regenerate,” he whined. “How can I compete with that?”
“Of all the things to complain about. No one regenerates… well, ok, I know three people who do. But I don’t think that should be a pre-requisite for your relationship. And anyway, you’ve got the wrong problem.”
“What are you talking about?”
Matt took a deep breath. “She’s frustrated because she just moved in here and you’ve been at work every night this week and haven’t seen her. She’s sexually frustrated because you haven’t schtupped her in a week. And because she thinks you’ve been having threesomes---maybe even foursomes---with the blonde bombshell of many names. And she’s mad because you haven’t paid her any attention all ni---”
“But---” Mohinder began to interject hotly, but Matt held up a finger and continued.
“And yeah, she wishes she didn’t have to always worry about repressing her power around you for fear of hurting you, but she wishes you would stop being so passive-aggressively anxious about the whole thing. Oh, and she’s also insecure about not having any friends, and is therefore annoyed that Adam seems so interested in you when the reason she invited him was so she could have someone be interested in her, since you’re obviously not doing the job.”
“How do you know all this?” Mohinder asked, wondering for a second if Matt had suddenly become someone else for him to be jealous of.
Matt tapped his forehead. “Duh. The details about your sex life were something I really didn’t need to hear---gross---so don’t bother being mad at me. I’ve been punished enough.”
Mohinder battled within himself. On the one hand, he really ought to take Matt to task for having invaded Elle’s privacy so, but on the other, he’d provided such useful information that he never would have guessed otherwise. Maybe Tracy was right; maybe he was bad with women.
Mohinder made a resolution.
“Here. Hold this.” Mohinder stood up and dramatically shoved his glass into Matt’s hand, spilling half the contents on Matt’s shirt in the process.
“What’s this about?”
“I’m going to assert my heterosexual dominance,” Mohinder seethed.
Matt burst into laughter.
“What exactly is so funny?” asked Mohinder.
Matt was still laughing but managed to choke out, “Nothing. Just… good luck with that.”
Mohinder glared at him and stormed into the living room.