heroslayer | for the_muses_stage: jimmy buffet quote

"We are the people our parents warned us about."
- Jimmy Buffett

It was impossible to mimic his usual slink while wearing Matt's face, he decided. The cop had the wrong center of balance, carrying himself more in his pudge than his shoulders as Sylar normally would have. His steps were too heavy no matter how he tried to adjust, his hips too wide, and so on and so forth to the point that he felt that the whole experience was something akin to piloting a whale.

In spite of it all, however, he still made an effort to adjust and reclaim his swagger as he moved through the crowds and lights, trying to track Claire down now that he'd made it to the fairgrounds. He wanted Claire to know him when she saw him, as if their conversation on the phone a few nights ago had left any doubts, and being able to move like he always did seemed the best way to do that. Even if he was sure he looked vaguely ridiculous. At least, thankfully, Matt hadn't bothered to comment on his gait. Otherwise, though, he hadn't shut up.

"You sure this is a good idea?" the cop asked, following at his heels with a frown plastered on his face. "I mean, for all you know, this could be a trap."

"She asked me to bargain." A man they passed gave him an odd look at the fact that he seemed to be talking to himself, but Sylar ignored him. In a handful of minutes, he wouldn't be having this problem. "She wanted me to spare your pathetic little life -- she wouldn't have bothered if she didn't have something to trade. Which means my body's here, somewhere. I just need to find it."

"Or she could just be playing you," Matt shot back. "I mean, I hate to break it to you man, but you kinda tipped your hand pretty quick when she called."

He paused mid-step, wheeling on his heels as quickly as he could manage with the awkwardness of Matt's body. "She has what belongs to me, and she sure as hell wasn't going to tell you that. You screwed up, Parkman. At least I've never lied to her about what I am or what I plan on doing."

Matt happily silenced, Sylar turned back into the crowd, intent on fending off any of the odd looks he was expecting with pointed ones of his own. While the majority of the people who had been around him when he'd snapped at the phantom cop did offer him uneasy stares as they skittered around him hurriedly, however, he paid them no mind. Mostly because in that instant, his eyes fell upon his body, meandering down the midway with a man who was unmistakably one of the carnies.

He grinned ferally, flashing Matt a glance that seemed to read I told you so, and headed in that direction. He'd gotten no less than a few feet away when the carnie spotted him, leaned in to whisper something to his body, and patted him on the shoulder before sending him off. Sylar tried to follow his disappearance into the crowd, but it wasn't long before he lost him. Nor was it long before the other man had moved to join him and Matt, an arm looping around his borrowed shoulders.

"We've been waiting for you."

Sylar ignored the statement, shuffling away from him a bit, wanting his personal space back. "Why did you send him away?"

"Our friend has some things that need taking care of. He'll be back -- I can promise you that -- but I wanted to talk to you, first." A pause, in which he did not remove his arm, and then he continued, "My name's Samuel Sullivan, and I know who you are. Why you're here."

"Really." He looked nothing short of dubious.

"You're the missing piece." Samuel's eyes danced away from him, back in the direction his body had disappeared, then returned to him, sharply. He made a gesture to Matt's meatsuit. "You're him, underneath all the smoke and mirrors, and I'm willing to give you what you're owed, but I need a favor, first."

His expressions rapidly cycle from doubtful to somewhere between surprised and intrigued to annoyed. He was getting tired of having to make deals with everyone and their brother just to get what had belonged to him in the first place back. Then again, in this case, he could always go back on his word once given, when he got back to himself. He owed these people nothing, and if they knew who he was, they had to be like him -- and they had to know what he would do to them, once he could take abilities again.

He tried to keep the idea from turning his lips. "Depends on what it is."

Where he had stopped himself from smiling, Samuel didn't bother. "I want you to kill Matthew Parkman. Consider it a -- coming home gift from the family."

Parkman yelled something in protest, and Sylar ignored him -- he was getting good at that, really -- his head rolling heavenward on Matt's shoulders an amused groan slipping out of him. He righted his head a moment later. "I wish I could."

"Mind if I ask what's stopping you?"

"I told Claire I wouldn't. It was what she wanted for telling me where my body was," he answered.

"And she made me promise I wouldn't bar his way, if he wanted to run when you came back to yourself, but I also told her I couldn't protect him from you. Seems Claire's been playing both sides of the field." Fingers suddenly pressed to his lips, Samuel took a moment to consider that, and then, "That sort of thing makes a contract void, don't you think?"

He canted his head to one side, eyebrows raised. "You're suggesting we do it anyway?"

"Somewhere outside the grounds," Samuel replied. "Somewhere secret -- somewhere she won't see. You'd have to keep your new found telepathy a secret from her -- which may be difficult on your part, I understand -- but otherwise? I'm not seeing much of a problem."

"Oh, I think I can manage." Maybe, maybe not, but the prospect of having Parkman's ability was far too delicious to pass up. Though he did think to ask, "What's the catch?"

"There isn't one -- as I said, it's a gift." And before Sylar could bother to question further, Samuel was guiding him in the direction his other half had gone.

Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1089
Note: Samuel is

offering_hope and is all mine to use and abuse. The use of Matt is not directed at a specific journal.