"Tsk tsk tsk... I have a friend who would be very sad to see you turning flowers into pure gold. She likes to think they are perfect the way they are..." Harley grins at Sylar. She is sure he would love to meet Pamela some day. Most men do.

She does take the golden daisy, and tucks it into one of her braids.

"Sy... Sy... Sweet Sy... if I wanted gold, I would just go steal it."

"I am just glad that we are friends now."