Everything Claire knew about Sylar told her not to listen to him. Then again, everything she knew about Sylar also told her that, if he really wanted her attention, he certainly had the ability to make her listen. So while she knew she should be refusing and doing her best to get the hell out of there, she also knew that it just wasn't like him to ask her to hear him out. And although she didn't trust him even a tiny bit, she couldn't help but realize that he might actually have a good reason for darkening her doorstep.
So with a glare that, if looks could kill, would ensure even he dropped over dead and stayed that way, she gave a sharp jerk of her head. "Fine," she bit out, "I'm listening. It's not like I have a lot of choice in the matter."
She briefly considered flopping back down into the chair just to be impudent but decided against it. If she was on her feet, she stood a better chance of making it out of there if she got the chance to run for it. So instead she stayed where she was - the desk between them and her hands clenched at her sides - as she waited for him to get on with it.