Authors Note: This was originally going to be two separate fics, but I figured they were too interconnected. So now this is a double-fic.

Mohinder needed to borrow a cup of sugar. But he was too shy to ask his neighbors, whom he barely knew. And he had just gone to the grocery store. He also didn't want the other professors to mock him. To top it off, he hadn't had his coffee yet. Which meant he wasn't quite thinking clearly. So in a brief decision he wouldn't understand later, Mohinder decided to borrow the sugar from Sylar.

Sylar actually only lived a few blocks away from him. Before, Mohinder would have been terrified. But he and the other heroes (Peter, Nathan, Hiro, Ando, Angela, Matt, and Claire) had made a sort of peace treaty with Sylar; both sides would stop trying to kill each other. Included in this treaty was that the heroes would not try to prevent Sylar from his killings, and Sylar would stop trying to take over/destroy the world.

The heroes had mostly done this because since Sylar's acquisition of shape shifting, he was essentially impossible to kill. After all, hundreds of thousands of people died every day, and in a busy week, Sylar might kill one. Mohinder was also pretty sure that Sylar knew the treaty was out of resignation. But he had already attacked Claire, and he really didn't need Mohinder, Peter, or Angela's ability. Hiro could always teleport away, and the geneticist had a sneaking suspicion that Sylar simply wanted easier targets for Nathan and Matt's abilities. So the treaty was no major loss for the serial killer either.

Personally, Mohinder found it a matter of tolerance. He tolerated Sylar the same way he tolerated people who ate beef. He didn't agree with their actions, but he put up with them.

Anyway, the geneticist was now knocking on Sylar's door, relatively content, which translated into meaning he actually wasn't afraid for his life. He rang the doorbell. There was no answer. Mildly upset at having walked all the way there fore nothing, he tried the doorknob.

He was apparently more than mildly upset, because Mohinder heard a crack, and realized he had broken the knob with his strength. Well, he wasn't going to turn back now, so Mohinder let himself in.

"Sylar?" he called, before being assaulted by the simultaneous ticking of the dozens of clocks in the apartment. Well. That wasn't weird at all.

The next thing that Mohinder heard was the sound of a shower running. He blushed. So that was why Sylar wasn't answering.

He crept towards the kitchen, really not wanting to encounter the serial killer in this state. Just as the geneticist was about to open a cupboard, he realized there was singing. And it was Sylar. And he was singing Christmas carols.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun, it is to be, cutting heads all day-ay." Wait a minute. Mohinder wasn't to into Christmas, but he was certain that the song didn't go like that.

"Deck the halls with TNT, fala lala la, lala la la. All the peo-ple try to flee, fala lala la, lala la la. Watch the mush-room cloud appear, fala lala la, lala la la. Now, the world bows down in fear, fala lala la, lala la la." Wow, that was really messed up. Did Sylar come up with that on the spot, or had he rehearsed it? Mohinder didn't know which one disturbed him more.

"Joy to the world, Sylar supreme. Now all, the peo-ple scream. For everyone is dy-ing, and I'm not even try-ing, so..." the singing broke off abruptly after Mohinder stepped on a rather squeaky floorboard. Uh oh.

Before he knew it, Mohinder was faced with an extremely annoyed serial killer. In a towel.

"Mohinder," he greeted, "I didn't have you pegged as the stalker type."

"I... I just want some sugar." Mohinder explained awkwardly.

"You want some sugar?" Sylar asked incredulously.

"Yeah." Then, seeing the serial killer's expression, he realized he had been misunderstood

"No, no, not like that," he clarified. Still, Mohinder couldn't stop his eyes from glancing at Sylar's shirtless chest. For a former nerd, he was really muscular. Even more so than Mohinder, who was the one with super-strength. Sylar saw the direction of Mohinder's gaze, and raised an eyebrow.

"So you walked six blocks through crowded New York sidewalks to borrow a cup of sugar?"

"I brought a lid," the Indian said meekly.

Mohinder wondered why he hadn't just asked the woman across the hall: Mary Lou, or Mary Ann, or whatever her name was. Then he recalled that the reason he hadn't visited her was because he didn't know her name.

"Fine," Sylar sighed, "first cupboard on the right of the refrigerator." Mohinder scurried over and procured the sugar he originally came for.

"I can assume you heard?" Sylar asked him. Mohinder nodded.

"I do have a wonderful singing voice, don't I?" the killer questioned.

"Um, yeah," Mohinder said. He felt that the best thing to do in this situation would be to just agree.

"You do realize that if you ever tell anyone, I will kill you?" Sylar confirmed, "And I will know if you tell someone. All I have to do is ask you." The Indian again nodded, fully aware of a certain lie-detection ability.

"I'll be leaving now. I, uh, kind of broke your door handle," Mohinder explained.

"Don't worry," Sylar assured him, giving a smile meant purely to creep Mohinder out, "I'm good at fixing things. How else do you think I keep these 62 clocks from driving me crazy?" Mohinder held back a comment that he was already crazy, and smiled in agreement. He quickly exited the room, closed the broken door, and briskly walked away.

Considering the circumstances, he felt it had been a successful visit. Mohinder was still alive, and he had his sugar. Only now, he had Deck the Halls stuck in his head. And the lyrics were Sylar-style.

"Deck the halls with TNT, fala lala la, lala la la. All the peo-ple try to flee, fala lala la, lala la la. Watch the mush-room cloud appear, fala lala la, lala la la. Now, the world bows down in fear, fala lala la, lala la la."

Wait a second... TNT doesn't cause mushroom clouds!

Author's Note...again: Did anyone notice Sylar's Spock moment? I couldn't resist putting it in. All the messed up lyrics actually do belong to me. I made them up when I was bored, and wanted to put them in a fic. And who better to sing evil music than Sylar? Also, for reading this far, here is a treat:

http: //www. youtube. com/ watch? v=gADsBeOrLgQ

Just take out the spaces. I don't know why you have to do this, but everyone else does it, and I'm scared of what happens if I don't. Also, I have recently noticed that I've seen a kind of similar idea before. I may or may not have taken the idea of Sylar in a towel from The Problematique, an extremely amazing author of Star Trek: 2009 fics. But I didn't mean to. I think the spocktacularness of her fic, For You I will Wake, just stayed in my head.