A/N: Okay, sorry everyone!! I never realized I hadn't posted the final part of this fic here. I really gotta keep a better eye on these things. Anyway, if you never got to read this on my livejournal, or at the Syelle community, here it is!

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After dessert is served, Elle finds herself assigned to the task of wrapping herself and Sylar as many leftover pies as she can manage while her husband distracts the brothers Petrelli. It's a well-kept secret that all of Mama's Boys have an insatiable sweet tooth.

"Pumpkin," Elle whispers, labeling the foil-covered slice. She sets it beside the other slices, seven in total so far. How they were going to be able to carry all this pie out later was beyond her.

The sight of all this food made Elle feel nauseous. This was happening a lot lately. She has her suspicions, but lets it go for another time.

With no other alternative, she throws up in the Tupperware containing the stuffing from dinner. With an evil smirk, she snapped the cover on it and placed it in the fridge. "Heh, heh..."

=-=-=-=-=-

In the living room, Angela was showing off the decorations on the tree. "And Nathan made me this one when he was in third grade." She holds up a moldy popcorn ball, causing everyone- including Mohinder!- to turn away in disgust.

"Gross, Grandma." Claire says, wishing she were at home with the Bennets and Mr. Muggles.

Ignoring Claire, Angela goes on about other Nathan-related ornaments. "Let's not forget the angel!" Ma Petrelli points to the top of the tree at the angel ornament. It looks exactly like Nathan; even has a cleft in it's chin and weirdly-shaped lips. "I had this made after my handsome boy won his Senate seat." She beams at her favorite son and touches his cheek affectionately.

"No wonder you act the way you do" Sylar whispers to Peter.

Peter does his best not to cry. "You have no idea. Mom's always liked Nathan best."

Sylar frowns. "Mom's always told me what a big let-down you two were, but she's barely paid any attention to me all night. I feel so neglected."

"I've been feeling your pain for 26 years, dude. It's so much worse now since Dad stole my powers. Mom won't even look at me anymore." Peter complains.

Sylar nods. "I had the same problem during the eclipse. It sucks not being special." He was feeling Peter's emo wash over him like so many razor-bladed tears wearing black eyeliner.

Peter sulks in agreement. "I'm so glad you can relate. Let's hug."

"Let's not." Sylar suggests, snapping out of his abyss of self pity. "Besides, that crappy empathy power you gave me is making all your emo-germs rub off on me." Sylar pushes his wussy brother away and stalks off to do something macho before the urge to write bad poetry consumes him.

=-=-=-=-=-

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Elle carefully stacks the stolen pie slices and is about to make her exit through the service entrance when Sylar sneaks up behind her. "Could all that be for me?" He whispers in her ear, running his hands down her waist.

Elle smirks and leans back. "You better watch out or I might drop them."

"Better not." Sylar teases before telekinetically setting the pies on the table. He spins her around to face him and they begin making out in the kitchen until...

"Oh God, you two are gross!" Claire admonishes.

The couple turns around to see the cheerleader, flanked by Pa Petrelli and The Favorite Son.

"Um." Elle begins, embarrassed.

Sylar arches a thick eyebrow at his father and brother. "Too much pie?"

Arthur smiles creepily at the newlyweds. "Claire, could you leave please?"

"Ugh. I guess so." Claire stomps out of the kitchen to be somewhere else to get attention.

"Kids, Nathan and I have a proposition for you." Arthur begins. "How would you like to have a baby and maybe sell it to the company?"

Elle makes a face. "How about 'no'? If I had a baby..."

Sylar grins like an idiot.

"I said IF." Elle says, watching Sylar's face fall. "If I were to have a baby, why the Hell would I want to sell it to you? My body isn't gonna go to shit for nothing, you know."

"We'd pay you handsomely." Nathan promises. "Plus we could make it into the best super soldier ever." The Senator smiles a little evilly. "EVER."

"Oh please. I swear, you wanna inject more cool powers into people just to make up for the fact that your own power is so lame by comparison." Elle spits.

"Well, I think it's a cool power." Sylar says quietly.

"I save so much money in travel expenses." Nathan challenges. "If there's anything cooler, let my secretary know so she can tell me."

Elle and Sylar exchange a look before walking past Arthur and Nathan into the living room.

"Was it something I said?" Nathan asks his father.

"Shut up. Before I try killing you again."

"Yes Dad." Nathan hangs his head.

=-=-=-=-=-

Peter peers pathetically at his niece as she exits the kitchen. The look of absolute disgust does not deter him. He steps purposefully under the mistletoe. "Hey Claire." He begins, doing his best to look alluring.

"Oh, hey Peter." Claire says, folding her arms.

"What's up?" He asks, leaning in the doorway, looking up at the mistletoe.

"Elle and Sylar are so gross!" Claire not-quite-shouts. She stomps her foot to emphasize her point. "All they do is make out and tell sex stories. He's always got his hands all over her! It makes me so-"

"Hot?" Peter asks.

"Jealous!" Claire seethes.

"You're jealous?" Peter is amazed. "But Sylar is your uncle, it'd be incest..." He feels a little jealous, but the jealousy is tinged with hope. If Claire is hot for one uncle, she could be hot for another.

"What? Eww, why would I want Sylar? Not only would it be incest, but he's put his fingers in my brain. Gross." Claire flips some of her hair over her shoulder. "I'm jealous of Sylar. Elle was so totally gonna be my lady before he came onto the scene."

"W-what?" Peter feels all the hope leave his body in one breath.

"Yeah. We have a connection. It's electric." Claire looks dreamily into the distance. "We've totally held hands."

"You... you want Elle." Peter confirms.

"In the hottest, most pornographic ways." Claire nods.

Peter frowns and goes up to his bedroom to write angsty poetry.

=-=-=-=-=-

After dessert, Angela sends her kids off with leftovers (extra portions for Nathan). Arthur leaves with Mohinder, heading back to Pinehearst to cook up ways to steal a non-existent baby from his favorite ship. Sylar and Elle steal all the presents, carjack a jerk in a BMW and ride off into the sunset; avoiding the black ice, but not the occasional pedestrian.

"What are you thinking?" Sylar asks, observing Elle's far away look.

"Hmm?" Elle snaps out of her thoughts, veering the car back onto her side of the road.

"Just now. We almost died. What's on your mind?"

"Well, two things, I guess." Elle says. "First off, I think Pom-pom's got a big crush on you."

Sylar snorts. He's been in Claire's brain. He knows who she likes. "And second?"

"I should pull over..." Elle says, then does so. "Whew... well, I guess the easiest way to say it is to just say it."

Sylar's eyebrows shoot up at the news. He's ecstatic, of course. "Do you know what this means?" He asks, excitedly.

"Maternity clothes?" Elle suggests, making a face.

"A protégé!" Sylar corrects her. "We'll be the coolest family of villains since the fucking Castros."

Elle seems apprehensive at first, then later daydreams about how to teach her baby to smirk evilly.

-=-=-=-=-=

.end.