Author's Note: I started writing this story at the end of Season 2/beginning of Season 3. I like witches in general, so I wanted to further explore that area in this universe. Also - I was tired of Damon not getting the girl and, basically, just being strung along forever. I intend for this to be the start of a trilogy or quartet. I feel I should state that this first story is not a shipper story of any kind, but I'm hoping to hook you all with clever writing and the forging of endearing friendships.

Important things to note - Elijah managed to get Klaus to leave Mystic Falls after the ritual was completed. Damon never got bit by Tyler, so Stefan never had to trade himself for the cure. Let's pretend Katherine somehow got free on her own...I don't really care. She's not important to me at the moment.

Legal matters: I don't own any of the TVD characters. Seren Lancaster is mine.

Oh, also - Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my Klaroline one-shot, Beneath Your Beautiful. Your comments gave me the desire to post this story in hopes that I'll get inspired and finish it and not leave everyone (myself included!) hanging. I hope you all enjoy!

~ Welcome To The Family ~

"Sometimes we can choose the paths we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all."
― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 4: Season of Mists

~ 1 ~

It was only going on eight p.m. when the black Toyota Prius hit the city limits of Mystic Falls, but the night was already edging on pitch black. Rain had been coming down off and on for the entire day, and now a larger storm was pushing across the area causing torrents of water to rush across already soaked ground, flooding the small town streets.

The Prius had been on the road for nearly ten hours that day. At one point the driver thought she was actually going to arrive earlier than the scheduled time, but she had been plagued by storms ever since crossing into Virginia, almost feeling chased by the jagged lightning and lashing rains. Her nerves were raw and her muscles tense with anxiety. The wild energy of Nature's fury was tugging at her and she knew she had to stop the car soon.

Renewed vigor raced through her blood when she spotted the Mystic Falls welcome sign and she maneuvered the car through small modest neighborhoods toward the heart of town, toward the day's finish line.

Business at the Mystic Grill was slow. The intermittent rain had made for a few busy hours earlier in the afternoon as patrons hung around to stay out of the wet weather. When the winds had picked up and the larger storm began to roll in, the bulk of everyone paid up and headed home to bunker down for the evening. A foursome of college students on summer break were occupying the pool table in the back corner, enjoying the invincibility of their youth, not giving the weather a second thought, while a few die-hard locals dotted the bar stools with their favorite liquor of choice in their hands, enjoying the kind of freedom that only comes with the abolishment of sobriety.

Matt Donovan had just finished mopping the restrooms when the front door banged open. A soaking wet woman struggled to push the door shut against the wind as gusts of rain blew in around her legs, creating puddles on the stone tile floor.

"Thanks!" the woman sighed when Matt stepped in and helped to get the door closed once more. She noticed the lake of water after she pushed her dark wet hair out of her face, then she saw Matt and the mop he had abandoned against the wall when he had come to her aid. She winced with a pang of guilt. "Sorry," she apologized, sheepishly. "The wind pulled it right out of my hand."

"No worries," he assured her with an affable smile. "It's been a boring shift anyway. You're soaking wet."

"Ah, yeah, it's really coming down out there."

A faint redness of embarrassment crept up Matt's neck and into his cheeks when the light switch in his brain flipped on and he realized how obtuse he sounded. "Here," he said, moving quickly over to the hostess station, grabbing two white bar towels. "They're not much, but you can dry your face and wring out your hair."

"Thanks. Matt," she added after catching a glimpse of his name tag.

"Sure. Did you want a table or something? We have a few left with lovely views."

The woman laughed warmly as she rubbed at the ends of her hair. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone. Alaric Saltzman? He may have blown me off, what with the weather and all."

Matt's eyes shifted to the bar. "Mr. Saltzman? He's here. Been here for a while now. At the end of the bar. There."

She followed his gaze and saw the man in the leather jacket at the end of the bar. "Thanks, Matt. You've been an angel."

She took the towels with her as she made her way up to the bar. Water was still dripping off her clothes and hair even as she made her best attempt to mop herself up. The towels were already sopping wet. They plopped heavily on the bar when she finally gave up and dropped them.

"Alaric Saltzman?" she asked as she pulled out the stool next to the man and sat down. He turned his head in her direction but did not speak a word. He was slightly disheveled, unshaven. There were dark puffy circles under his reddened eyes. Matt had said he had been there a while and he had the distinct odor of whiskey about him. "I'm Seren Lancaster."

"You're late."

Seren smiled brilliantly but sardonically answered, "Yes, well, no one told me it was monsoon season in Virginia."

Alaric grunted once before picking up the glass in front of him and tossing back the remaining finger of golden liquid. "I didn't think you were going to show up."

"Have you rented the property to someone else in the time you've been sitting here waiting for me?" Alaric gave her a hard stare. "No? Then we should still be good. Bartender?" Seren ordered a gin and tonic for herself and another whiskey for Alaric. When the bartender gave her a weary look, she smiled knowingly but nodded to the empty glass on the bar. "Mr. Saltzman…"

"Alaric," he abruptly cut her off. As soon as the bartender refilled his drink, he picked up the glass and knocked back half of it. "How did you even know I was trying to rent out my apartment, Miss Lancaster?"

"Seren. I'm a witch."

Alaric's back stiffened at the word. Some of the alcohol haze cleared from his brain and he eyed her up from head to toe.

Seren smiled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a damp, folded piece of paper. "Ta-Dah!" she declared once she had carefully peeled the sodden folds apart. She pushed the paper towards him. It was a copy of the ad he had placed in the local paper. "I worship at the altar of Google."

Alaric's hand visibly shook when he started to reach for his glass again. The word 'witch' kept ringing through his head as his vision drifted in and out of focus. Suddenly he very much regretted his choice of distraction for the evening.

""I'm sorry. It's been a very long day. I shouldn't be so glib. I am still interested in renting the apartment if you're still amiable. Alaric?"

"I'm sorry," Alaric hoarsely apologized. "Bartender, a water, please?" The water was cold and stung his throat and stomach as he gulped it down. And while there was no way it was going to sober him up instantly, it did help him get his first good look at Seren Lancaster.

Her hair had started to dry out a bit at the roots and the lights around the bar revealed a dark auburn hint of color in what had appeared to be chocolate-brown hair. She had good posture, even perched on the edge of a bar stool, and he easily summed her up to only be of average height. He also noted that she was carrying a few extra pounds on her frame, but they settled in just the right places and produced curves that many men would admire. Overall analysis – pretty and unassuming.

There was no way to ignore his scrutiny and Seren shifted in her seat and cocked her head at him. That's when he saw her eyes. They were a blue so faint that they encroached on grey. Combined with her dark hair and pale skin, they gave her a very other-world quality.

"Would you like to see the place before you agree to anything?"

"Only if you let me drive."

Alaric gestured for the bartender once more and closed out his tab. He wobbled unsteadily when he slid off his stool, the world having gone temporarily askew, but managed to collect his balance without making too much of a show. "After you, Miss Lancaster."