Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.
~X ~
The door to the Boarding House opened, and Rebekah's hand followed by the rest of her body entered the foyer.
Stefan, half filled crystal rocks glass cupped in one hand, held his arms out in a mockery of a welcome gesture.
"Please, let yourself in." He sarcastically invited, shades of his ripper smile gracing his face.
Rebekah took long strides, arms swinging, meeting sarcasm with sarcasm. "You called me. Should I be checking for hidden daggers?" She stepped down to the lower level parlor, confronting him.
"You still wanna find the cure?" He inquired.
Rebekah, face serious, stared without blinking into Stefan's eyes. "More than anything. I want to ram it down Niklaus's throat and look him in the eyes as he realizes he's mortal again."
She briefly looked away, losing the intensity in her voice, as she admitted, "But Shane's dead anyway, and you are useless, so I'm right back where I started."
Stefan, one hand in his jean pocket, used the one holding the liquor glass to make his point, said, "Shane's not dead."
He half saluted her with his glass and drained it. He walked away as she vehemently protested. "But I watched Kol impale him."
Stefan put his glass on the table holding the family's liquor stock and un-stoppered a crystal decanter while talking. "Well, you probably shouldn't have left him alone. Bonnie did a little spell, and he's perfectly fine."
He poured himself more of the amber liquor while Rebekah absorbed what he was saying.
Rebekah opened and closed her lips, hesitating before saying, "You didn't have to tell me that. Why am I really here?" Distrust was evident in her voice.
Stefan worked his tongue around his cheek and admitted as he walked over to plop on one of the many sofas. "You were right. I'm gonna be here for an eternity, and I will go insane if I don't know how Elena truly feels about my brother."
He turned his head towards her, shrugged, made a face, and raised and dropped his hands on the sofa arm and back in an 'it-is-what-it-is' gesture.
She blinked while eyeing him and then sucked in an audible deep breath before deciding to talk. As she walked towards him, she said, "Well if you really want the cure you should know that Shane has an agenda, and it's a dark one."
Stefan tilted his head inquiringly.
"He said he organized dozens of people to die in sacrifice. He admitted to the council explosion where the twelve people died." She tilted her head speculatively. "And I'm guessing it's not a coincidence the twelve hybrids died at the hand of my brother."
Stefan angled his head slightly as he contemplated what she said.
"Twelve," he repeated. His face took on his trademark preoccupied look as he put together what she had revealed with what he had learned from his visit to New Orleans. After a moment he had it all connected. "Channeling the energy from the mass deaths is using witchcraft to perform dark spells. It's called expression."
He moved towards her as he talked, carrying the liquor glass, using it and one pointed finger to emphasize his point. "Shane admitted all this to you?" he asked, stopping less than an arm's length from her.
"Proudly," Rebekah admitted, a small brief smile flitting across her face.
"Well then, I guess we'll have to figure out how to manage him when we find the cure for ourselves." Stefan didn't appear disheartened by her news.
She lifted her head challengingly, the small smile briefly appearing again. "We?" she scoffed.
"Hmmhuh," Stefan confirmed.
"There's no 'we', Stefan." Rebekah quickly shot down his assumption.
He used his most persuasive voice, determined to convince her. "Listen, I hate my brother, and you hate yours, but Damon's got Jeremy, Klaus has the sword, and Shane has Bonnie. You and I are the only ones that have nothing. You said it yourself, right? Whoever finds the cure first decides what to do with it." He offered his hand. "So whatdaya say?"
Her eyes flickered uncertainly from the outstretched hand to Stefan's face.
"Wanna be partners?" he offered.
Rebekah looked down at his hand again and then back up to his face, weighing the sincerity of his words. She wasn't sure she could trust him. She pondered for awhile licking her lips. "It's possible you could be of some use," she murmured half to herself.
He watched her face as she seemed to reach a decision.
"I'll need some type of gesture to show your sincerity," she finally said, her face inscrutable.
He shrugged. "Name it."
"Have sex with me," she baldly stated. "I can hold it against you with Elena."
It was his turn to blink. It only took him a moment before he looked around the room, saying, "Where?"
"Upstairs. Your room. We might as well be comfortable." Her tone made it a straight forward business proposition.
Stefan drained his glass and casually placed it on a nearby table as he led the way upstairs to his bedroom, Rebekah following him.
Once inside they carefully stripped their clothes off, neatly folding or hanging them, as if they had all the time in the world. They wasted no time on preliminaries once they settled on the bed. They had known each other's bodies intimately in New Orleans, and they knew exactly what the other wanted and needed.
When they were satisfied they separated with no cuddling or show of tenderness. Rebekah immediately got up and headed into Stefan's bathroom to shower.
When she came ou,t he was gone. She went downstairs to find him, dressed only in jeans, drinking again. He had emptied the decanter and started on a new bottle. She took the time to once again admire the flat planes of his stomach and his finely muscled arms and shoulders.
He stayed seated on the sofa, not getting up to walk her to the door.
"I'll be in touch," she said as she strode out. On a cruel impulse, out of a need to once again strike out for all the hurts she had suffered over the centuries, she turned back towards him, an evil look on her face. "And by the way Ste —"
"Don't bother." He forestalled her. "You're going to say Damon was better." As her eyes widened in shock that he had so accurately guessed what she was going to say, he gave a short bitter laugh. "I know you want revenge, and it's probably true. Elena seems to think so too."
He quickly drained his glass and got up for a refill.
She swallowed past a lump in her throat. She should be feeling joy at the pain written all over his face. She should have been happy that she was hurting him the way he hurt her. She should be gloating that he was as much a failure at love as she was.
Why then did she feel a prickling under her eyelids? Why did it take everything she had to not tell him that once she met him he was it and everyone that came before him paled in comparison? That his brother just didn't do it for her and never would?
She opened and closed her lips. Head held high she walked out the door refusing to cry until she had pulled out of the driveway. As she hit the road, she finally gave way and sobbed scalding hot tears for herself, for Stefan, and for a love that should have been.
~ FIN ~