Fic: Who Do You Think You Are?
Title: Who Do You Think You Are?
Characters: Sylar/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 621
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Heroes or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: Warnings for end of Vol. 3 and part of Vol. 4, to be safe.
Summary: Sylar finds an eerily familiar face at Hearst College.
A/N: Originally written for the YAHAKM.
After Sylar found his father, he found that the hunger returned redoubled in strength. He searched out his victims relentlessly, without caring about who they were or what their power was.
His next planned victim was a Hearst College student - some girl named Mac, a computer genius or something - and Sylar stalked to campus with his hands shoved into his pockets, scanning the pathways and the college green. He recognized the girl from her page on an online social network, and she was headed his way. All he had to do was wait for her, and he could cull her from the herd like a sacrificial lamb.
The closer she got, however, the more his attention turned to her walking companion. In the distance, she hadn't been that noticeable - just another blonde in a practical sea of blondes - but the closer she came, the more familiar she looked. Soon he was entirely distracted by the resemblance she had to his old acquaintance, and he let Mac pass and reached out for her instead.
"Elle?" he said, grabbing her arm and bringing her to a full stop.
"Oh el?" the girl shot back. She shook her arm from his grip, and he released her in complete confusion. "But really, it isn't very funny to go around grabbing people like that."
Sylar's brow furrowed as he struggled to make sense of this girl's strong resemblence to his (literal) old flame. "So you're not - "
"Unless the end of that sentence is late for class, then I'm most likely not," she snapped back.
"You look just like... an... old friend of mine," Sylar tried to explain, following her as she meandered her way through crowds of students on their way to class.
"Well, unless you wanted to pay me to find her, I'm not interested in the rest of your sob story," she said over her shoulder.
"No, I - wait up a second, will you?"
"I have no time," she said before sprinting across the green, leaping over a hedge and darting into the nearest building.
Sylar narrowed his eyes. It was easy to find her again; all it took was a systematic peek into the classrooms one at a time. It wasn't long before he discovered the one she was in, and he simply waited outside for the class to end.
He grabbed her again when class was over and shoved her back into the now-empty classroom. As she struggled and stuttered, he looked her over again - she was almost an exact replica of Elle Bishop, sans scar, sans bangs, sans sadistic tendency to electrocute him repeatedly.
"Just who do you think you are?" she hissed at him, punching him in the arm with a tiny, ineffectual fist.
"Who do you think you are?" he inquired of her, one eyebrow rising tentatively.
"Third grade called - they want their comeback back," she told him. "Now, if you're done being weird and creepy, I need to meet my - "
Sylar didn't let her finish her sentence; instead he reached down and pressed his lips to her, wrapping his arms around her torso and hugging her close. She tried to turn away at first, wriggling in his embrace, but there was something reassuring in the way his fingers tangled in her hair, and something thrilling in being kissed so passionately by a stranger.
"I'm Veronica, by the way," she muttered as she paused a moment to breathe.
"I'm Sylar," he replied, before pinning her against the chalkboard and sliding his hands underneath her shirt.
A voice tinged with anger joined in from behind them. "And I'm Logan," it said, and Sylar felt a hand on his shoulder pull him backwards before a fist collided solidly with his jaw.
Characters: Sylar/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 621
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Heroes or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: Warnings for end of Vol. 3 and part of Vol. 4, to be safe.
Summary: Sylar finds an eerily familiar face at Hearst College.
A/N: Originally written for the YAHAKM.
After Sylar found his father, he found that the hunger returned redoubled in strength. He searched out his victims relentlessly, without caring about who they were or what their power was.
His next planned victim was a Hearst College student - some girl named Mac, a computer genius or something - and Sylar stalked to campus with his hands shoved into his pockets, scanning the pathways and the college green. He recognized the girl from her page on an online social network, and she was headed his way. All he had to do was wait for her, and he could cull her from the herd like a sacrificial lamb.
The closer she got, however, the more his attention turned to her walking companion. In the distance, she hadn't been that noticeable - just another blonde in a practical sea of blondes - but the closer she came, the more familiar she looked. Soon he was entirely distracted by the resemblance she had to his old acquaintance, and he let Mac pass and reached out for her instead.
"Elle?" he said, grabbing her arm and bringing her to a full stop.
"Oh el?" the girl shot back. She shook her arm from his grip, and he released her in complete confusion. "But really, it isn't very funny to go around grabbing people like that."
Sylar's brow furrowed as he struggled to make sense of this girl's strong resemblence to his (literal) old flame. "So you're not - "
"Unless the end of that sentence is late for class, then I'm most likely not," she snapped back.
"You look just like... an... old friend of mine," Sylar tried to explain, following her as she meandered her way through crowds of students on their way to class.
"Well, unless you wanted to pay me to find her, I'm not interested in the rest of your sob story," she said over her shoulder.
"No, I - wait up a second, will you?"
"I have no time," she said before sprinting across the green, leaping over a hedge and darting into the nearest building.
Sylar narrowed his eyes. It was easy to find her again; all it took was a systematic peek into the classrooms one at a time. It wasn't long before he discovered the one she was in, and he simply waited outside for the class to end.
He grabbed her again when class was over and shoved her back into the now-empty classroom. As she struggled and stuttered, he looked her over again - she was almost an exact replica of Elle Bishop, sans scar, sans bangs, sans sadistic tendency to electrocute him repeatedly.
"Just who do you think you are?" she hissed at him, punching him in the arm with a tiny, ineffectual fist.
"Who do you think you are?" he inquired of her, one eyebrow rising tentatively.
"Third grade called - they want their comeback back," she told him. "Now, if you're done being weird and creepy, I need to meet my - "
Sylar didn't let her finish her sentence; instead he reached down and pressed his lips to her, wrapping his arms around her torso and hugging her close. She tried to turn away at first, wriggling in his embrace, but there was something reassuring in the way his fingers tangled in her hair, and something thrilling in being kissed so passionately by a stranger.
"I'm Veronica, by the way," she muttered as she paused a moment to breathe.
"I'm Sylar," he replied, before pinning her against the chalkboard and sliding his hands underneath her shirt.
A voice tinged with anger joined in from behind them. "And I'm Logan," it said, and Sylar felt a hand on his shoulder pull him backwards before a fist collided solidly with his jaw.