"Something you two wanna tell me?"

Peter stopped pouring his orange juice and glanced at Melony, before raising his eyebrow at Nathan, "Um...that...we love you?"

Nathan laughed, shaking his head as he laid the paper magazine on the kitchen counter, "No--that you two are having a secret love affair."

"What?!" Peter and Melony yelled simultanously as they crowded around the table, reading the headline on the front of the trashy tabloid;

"Governor's Brother in Secret Affair--with Petrelli Advisor!

It also featured a photo from the night before, of the two conversing in the front yard.

Melony groaned, shaking her head. Peter laughed, "How is it a love affair? We were just talking! We're even standing that close to one another!"

"It doesn't matter!" Melony sighed, "They'll find any way to make someone look bad. Nathan, I am so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it." Nathan held up his hand, "I'm calling them on Monday--if they want me, they can go after me, but they had no right to include you or Peter. Besides, if anyone actually believes this trash, they're not smart enough to even matter."

"Hey look, apparently we met in college and were spotted canoodling in a Manhattan cafe!" Peter let out a laugh as he glimpsed at the article, and Melony snatched it away from him, "This is a lawsuit waiting to happen, not to mention horrible journalism." She balled it up and tossed it into the trashcan.

Peter nodded, "What I don't understand is how they got the picture in the first place. I tackled the guy in the bushes myself. I even watched them haul his ass away in a police car!"

"He was probably the distraction." Melony offered, "I've heard of the paparazzi working in teams just to ensure a good shot."

Nathan shrugged, pouring a cup of coffee, "It's nothing to worry about, but I thought you two would get a good laugh. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very important meeting to attend."

"What meeting?" Melony piped, "You didn't tell me about any meeting!"

"That's cause it's a Monopoly marathon with my kids."

Smiling as Nathan walked away, Melony pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number of her house in Manhattan. The last phone call she'd made to her sister had left her with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, wondering if it was an illogical idea to leave her home alone. "Shit." She mumbled when no one answered, sitting down at the table with her arms crossed.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, taking a sip of orange juice as he picked up a piece of toast from the plate in the center of the table.

Melony shrugged, "Nothing. I just can't get ahold of my sister and I'm worried."

Peter smiled, "Why? You think she'll throw a big keg party and trash the place?"

"Her?!" Melony laughed, "Absolutely not. But knowing her, she probably set the house on fire while attempting to bake some soup, or something."

He laughed, "I'm not even sure how to react to that."

She shook her head, "Anyway, there's no political business to attend to, so I have nothing to do. What's on your agenda for the day?"

"A book." He shrugged, "I'm in the middle of a Proust classic."

"Proust?!" She raised an eyebrow, "That seems a little stuffy for you--don't ya think?"

"Hey! For the record, we never got to finish that conversation."

"Then finish it."

Just as Peter was about to speak, Nathan entered, holding a cordless phone, "Peter--mom wants to talk to you."

Lips pursed, Peter took the phone and looked at Melony, "Finish it after this?"

Melony clicked her tongue, "Excuses, excuses."

---

Levine Home, Manhattan

This was definitely something to frame, Autumn thought as she set the grocery bags down on the table and pulled out the latest issue of "The Manhattan Mingle".

She never thought she'd see her sister on front of a tabloid, but there she was, alone with the murse from the hospital.

"Sylar?" She called, making her way to the bedroom, where she found him coming out of the bathroom, his black hair wet, wearing the clothes she'd laid out for him--a simple black t-shirt she'd bought from the men's department not long ago for her to sleep in, and an old pair of her dad's jeans. "Ah, a shower. Feel better?"

"Much." He replied, rubbing his jaw. He'd shaved, also, and now looked like a completely different person. He quickly sat down in the chair, clutching his chest, and she realized the pain he must be in. He wasn't as strong as he looked.

"Hold on." She said, walking towards the bed, "I'll change the sheets, and then cook dinner. I got stuff for pasta, cause you definitely need something other than sandwiches..."

"Wait."

She froze, looking at him, "What is it?"

"Someone's at the door."

"How do you know that?" The tone of his voice scared her for some reason.

"I heard their footsteps."

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Autumn stared at Sylar in amazement, but didn't question him as she held up a hand, "Stay here."

He nodded and she walked out, closing the door behind her before rushing to the front door. When she opened it, her heart skipped a beat before it started to pound incredibly loud and she swallowed hard, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am--I'm Officer Clark, this is Detective Kitch. We need to ask you a few questions and search the perimeter."

"May I ask what this is about?" Her voice was strained, but she fought not to appear guilty of, well, anything.

Detective Kitch stepped forward, "Your neighbor just returned from a vacation and found what appeared to be dried blood on her bushes and near your driveway. A lot of it, as a matter of fact. Care to explain?"

"I get nosebleeds. Do you really need to search my house for that?"

"It was a lot of blood. Now please, step aside."

Clark placed a hand on her shoulder, "Ma'am, just please let us insid..."

"Stop calling me ma'am, and get your damn hands off me!" She snatched herself away, "I know my rights. I don't have to let you into my house."

Kitch handed her a piece of paper, "That's a warrant, Ms. Levine. And according to that, you do have to let us in."

"You have to be kidding me! How did you get this? On what grounds?"

"Suspicious circumstances." Kitch shoved past her into the house, and she let the warrant fall to the ground as she grabbed him by the arm, "Stop!"

He pulled away, "Technically, that's assaulting an officer of the law. So calm your ass down unless you wanna go to jail."

She glared up at him, watching as he began to inspect everything in site. When she heard the loud clatter in the bedroom, her heart stopped. Kitch pulled a gun and headed down the hall. "Stop!" She screamed again. Despite officer Clark trying to hold her back, she broke free of his harsh grasp and chased after Kitch, dodging in front of him as he opened the bedroom door.

Her first instinct was to protect Sylar at all costs.

Her first realization was that Sylar was gone.

Not gone, however, were the bloodstained sheets. The trashcan full of used medical supplies. The black trench coat draped neatly over the chair.

Detective Kitch didn't even look at her, "I'm calling CSU. Take her ass to the station."

---

Peter sighed, leaning back against his pillow as he opened the book to where he'd left off. After a few minutes, he closed it without reading a word.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't take his mind off the unfinished conversation he'd had with Melony Levine the night before. He knew she probably thought he started to say something bad, but he didn't. All he wanted to tell her was she seemed to free, too spontaneous, to work in politics. But he'd also noticed that she was like two different people at times--political Melony when she was with Nathan, and carefree Melony when she was with Peter. But he'd only known her so long. Could he really tell?

Peter.

He jumped slightly, tossing the book aside.

Peter Petrelli. He'll keep me safe.

It took him a few moments to realize that the voice he heard was coming from down the hall--he was hearing Melony's thoughts. Her thoughts of...him!

He smiled. Why was she thinking of him? A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts and he rushed to open it, finding Melony with an awkward look on her face.

"Hide me." She squeaked, and Peter moved out of the way and let enter, then closed the door. Suppressing a grin, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her, "So, who got to you?"

"The touchy feeley guy." She shrugged as she sat down on the end of his bed, "I won't stay long, I promise."

"Hey, no, stay as long as you want." He sat down next to her, "My bedroom is your refuge."

She eyed him strangely and he realized how weird that sounded. "Sorry." He laughed nervously.

She shook her head, "Hey, now we can finally finish that conversation. No hold's barred. Complete and total honesty."

"No hold's barred?"

"No hold's barred, Petrelli."

He sighed, eyes downcast as he cleared his throat and straightened up, locking eyes with her, "You're everything a politician is not. You're smart in all the right ways. You're young, you're funny, you're..." He sighed, "You're beautiful. And I know it's probably none of my business, but what made you want to go into politics?"

Melony stared at him with wide eyes, and shook her head, "I...I don't know. Peter, what...?" She laughed, unsure of what to say, "Where did all of this come from?"

"Let's just say I'm good at reading people."

She shrugged, "To be honest? I don't know how I got into politics, but right now, I don't really care. You've thrown me for a loop, here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He placed a hand on her shoulder, before he reached up and pushed a piece of hair from her face, and she smiled. "Your hand is shaking, Peter."

"What can I say?" He shrugged, "I'm nervous."

"Don't be."

He leaned forward, his fingers stroking her face as his lips drew closer to hers. Close enough to feel her breath on his lips, and close enough to inhale the scent of her.

Melony's cell phone rang, and Peter froze.

"Damn it." They both mumbled.