Author's Note: Due to a bit of a stall on two other stories, this has been something brewing in my head for ages. This takes place first season, but as with any AU, I will be taking liberties with cannon. Personally, I love the character of Elijah, and the proof that old school manners, and modern day can mix, plus he's easy on the eyes. This is an Elijah/OC fic, but I do adore watching him interact with Hayley.

~Prologue~

"Miss Dauphine?" With a deliberate clearing of the throat, the older gentle waited patiently as the young woman sitting on the opposite side of the desk refocused and came to from whatever nightmare she was currently caught in. He felt a momentary pang of irritation at the unusual position he was currently in, but quickly squashed it as the young woman snapped to and blushed over having drifted off.

"I'm so sorry." Deep blue eyes sent a silent plea to excuse her for her poor manners. "Maybe we should reschedule, when I'm not so -." Her words drifted off, and the older gentleman once again wished he could have told the young woman's Grandmother no.

"There's no apologies needed, you've just went through a great loss, and with the circumstances being what they are . . . I wish there was a way to give you additional time you need to – I wish I could say heal, but honestly, I know how close you were with your Grandmother. How about I outline what Imogene insisted on, and then make an appointment for a more in depth meeting."

Tucking a nearly black curl behind her ear, Regina Dauphine nodded silently.

"Now I should make note that Imogene changed her will just a few months ago." Watching as the young woman contemplated his words, he saw the moment something clicked inside her head. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yes." If it were even possible, she looked even more lost than she had when she'd entered the office. "My Mother happened."

"So, you won't be overly astonished your Grandmother left you essentially everything." Shifting through the paperwork on the desk, Mr. Bouchard located what he was looking for. "The property in the Quarter, her portion of Havenwoods Plantation – which I understand your older cousin Shawna runs – and a vast majority of her assets, once all debts have been cleared of course."

"I –." Clearly dazed, Regina shook her head, more long black curls escaping from her barrette. "That's way too much. I – My Mother will contest this."

"Undoubtfully." Mr. Bouchard replied blandly, as his eyes hardened as though he very much looked forward to it. "Now as to the property in the Quarter, it is the primary reason for this urgent meeting."

Regina frowned, clearly overwhelmed and near her breaking point. "What about the Tea Room? My home?"

"There's no need to stress, but there are some . . . strange stipulations attached."

"How so?"

Clearing his throat, Mr. Bouchard started to look uncomfortable as he appeared to be searching for the right words. "Does the name Elijah Mikaelson mean anything to you?"

"No." Looking baffled, Regina shook her head. "Should it."

Avoiding her question, the older man tapped his finger a few times. "What do you know of the history of the Tea Room?"

"My Great-Great-Great Grandmother Lucille defied her father, refused to marry and instead opened the Tea Room."

A gentle smile touched the older man's lips. "I was more like your Great-Great-Great-Great-Great Grandmother, and did you ever wonder how a woman, in the early nineteen hundreds, open a business on her own? Even in the city like New Orleans? After defying her parent's wishes?"

With only a slight shrug, Regina fidgeted. "Honestly, no. But when you put it that way, I suddenly feel stupid."

"Don't." Mr. Bouchard insisted. "My family's firm has been here just as long as yours, and during that time we've represented Lucille and her descendants. She had a silent partner, who helped with the purchase of the building which the Tea Room and subsequently your residence occupies. A contract was drawn, which detailed the partnership and the logistics of how it would be passed down upon the passing of either."

"I've never heard of any kind of partner." A slow frown pulled at Regina's lips. "How can that be?"

"Consider them a very silent partner." Pushing a folder across the desk, waiting until she hesitantly took it and with just a slight glance back, lowered her eyes to the paperwork inside.

"Is this even legal?"

"Unconventional, yes. But very legal, mostly because you must fully agree to these terms, today. If not, the property and business are turned over to Elijah Mikaelson."

Regina's eyes flew open, and this time when her cheeks pinkened it was out of shock. "You can't be serious."

"I know the paperwork contains enough legal jargon and mumble jumble, but if you were to read further I think you'll find the partnership ideal."

"How can it possibly be ideal? Some stranger could own my home, not to mention the business my family has built."

"Only if you do not agree to the terms." Mr. Bouchard tried to reason. "One percent of the Tea Room's annual profits, and the right to utilize the very top floor of the building should the need ever arise."

"Only one percent?" Dropping her eyes to the folder in her eyes, Regina shook her head. "That's barely anything. Why so little?"

"I wasn't there when the contract was drawn up, so I am unable to answer that very valid question." Chuckling, he watched as the young woman calmed herself down, though he could see there was another question on her mind.

"I assume the very top floor means the attic, which no one has been to in years . . . if ever. What does it mean by utilize it? Like a storage locker? He can't run a night club or anything up there . . . can he?"

"First I doubt he'd be able to obtain a license to do so, the French Quarter is rather stringent on matters like that, so I doubt he could run a bar out of the attic."

"But he could live in the attic if he wanted?"

"Technically, yes." Spreading out his hands, Mr. Bouchard shrugged. "But honestly, outside of the one percent, there has been very limited contact with the Mikaelson in possession of the partnership. Much less had them as a tenant."

"I'm just so confused. I would give this all up to have Meme back."

"I know you two were close, and she raised you as her own. Have the police determined if . . ."

"All they will say is they are considering a few leads." Pausing, Regina sighed. "I am beginning to think a few leads is code for 'we're doing our best to work as slowly as we can'."

"I am truly sorry, Imogene was a wonderful woman."

"Thank you." Lowering her gaze to her lap, Regina took a few minutes to think. "If Meme was able agree to this strange partnership, I have no reason not to."

"I knew you'd make the right decision."