Figure 8 Ch. 01

"Oh honey, I nearly came watching you!" Greg squealed, not ashamed to take this chance and hug Sylar. Sylar laughed, bending down to pull on a pair of gym pants for a shred of decency. He noticed that he was still semi-hard, and thought about inviting himself to Ashlynn's place to finish the job when he found Emma squatting on the ground, calmly packing her bag as if nothing happened.

There was noway in hell she wasn't affected by that.

Sylar grinned as he approached her, feeling more satisfied than he had in a long while. And for him, this satisfaction meant ready to go another round, wanting to go again until he passed out. It was a feeling he rarely got now that he was booking steady gigs, but every once in a while it would happen, especially if the girl managed to seduce him, if she acted more than just a wet hole for masturbating viewers. Only this time, Sylar could pinpoint the exact reason he was feeling so great.

He stood over an unaware Emma, letting his shadow fall over her. He waited for her to acknowledge him. She didn't. She kept packing until she was completely sure she had everything, got up, turned around without every looking at him and made a beeline towards Nick and Greg.

Did she go home and touch herself to the tapes? He imagined that was one reason she acted so prim and proper at work. He laughed, she was literally treating this job as proper work. It was so... endearing.

He watched as she cheerily gave Greg a kiss on the cheek goodbye as well as a few of the other crew members. Sylar tried to think about what happened last week... complete blur. Did she say bye to him? When had she gotten so familiar with everyone else - and why everyone but him? She should be nice to the talent, he grumbled, watching her head towards the door.

Ego bruised, he threw on a white t-shirt and grabbed his bag, quickly following her out without a goodbye to anyone else. Not that anyone noticed a clothed Sylar. They were all surrounding Ashlynn, either asking for her number or asking how amazing it was to be the best fuck ever for fucking Sylar Durden.

"Wait up," he called, and watched the slim hand stop the door as it had last time. He made sure to have his best boy scout grin when the doors opened, ready for a sullen face or some sign of rejection. Instead, he was sure it was a blush rising in her cheeks, and those white knuckles gripping on her bag as he stepped in.

He remembered her question about what he did on his off days. Did she want to get to know him? he wondered. He knew he was attractive beyond porn standards - there was no way in hell she was unaffected by any part of him.

Dear Emma looked so vulnerable standing there, her eyes downcast to the floor. Was going home for a more private reason? It looks like we both enjoy work so much we do it on our off days as well, he thought, smiling. As the doors closed, he felt the lurch not only in the elevator but deep inside as well. He decided there and then that was ready to spend his off days with her. Every twenty four hours of them.