She pulled off the glasses, and Sylar fingered her paperweight a bit rougher. It was an oddly shaped thing, a weight of glass which was curved into a bird. He was amused by this for some reason; perhaps she had been a present from some admirer. For some reason, the very thought of the coldly calculating creature infront of him being sought after by some guy made him want to laugh. It had been a long time since he had laughed...but it would have been a mocking noise anyway. Not something that most considered as a laugh.

His smirk widened as she realized who he was. Did she know exactly what he was capable of? The power that he could wield at a twitch of his hand? Everyone knew he was a....okay, a serial killer. A killer of cereal? There he went again, oh how he could make himself laugh! Smirking, he just held her paperweight as it might have been bothering Ms. Uptight. Then...he decided he'd had enough of her talking. As intriguing as she was, she knew his name and possibly why he was here without his saying a word.

(I apologize if this seems like powerplay...you can't dodge his telekinesis.)

He moved his hand, just a slight flick. From his head cock, you wouldn't think anything of his increased concentration...but the sneer on his face was an outright challenge to the other, and yet...as he stood, it melted into a face of utter serious. This was the point when people generally figured that they were about to die. They, for all intents and purposes, would be right. She was now pinned to the chair, now pretty much at the mercy of strong and intelligent Sylar.

He stood, setting her paperweight down, and walked around to look down at her. "You know why, Tabatha," he said. His voice wasn't...normal. It was growly and low, almost more of a rumble than simply talking. Had it always been this way? As far as he could remember. Maybe Gabriel hadn't had such a snarl to his voice. "I'm here because you're special."