Look at Her (With Her Smile Like a Flame)

Rating: R/M

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: Prompt fill from tvd_hiatus: "Mikael/Katherine - it's been a long time." Stands alone, but could also be a sequel to 'Drained'. References to past Mikael/Esther.

Author's Note: Wow. I haven't even been in the fandom that long and I've got it. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries. It belongs to L.J. Smith/The CW.

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Mikael drags her like a rag-doll, because for now that's all she is.

She's barely conscious after the incident in the tomb; he drained her dry and then let her feed on what coagulated blood remained in the corpse of the human she tried to feed blood to him from. The sensible part of him doesn't want to hold a grudge for that- she couldn't have known, and his tastes were a rarity- but a part of him still burns with cold fury that she had the bloodlust and the callousness to kill a human for such a purpose. It's been decades since he's killed one.

And whose fault is it that the predatory race exists?

Mikael has trouble looking at this doppelganger and recognizing that she exists in this time and place because of himself and Esther.

Esther.

He gnashes his teeth and pushes all thoughts of her from his mind. He misses her far too much. The thought of her and the horrible end she met is enough to spark the kind of emotions that might fuel a city-wide rampage.

They check into a motel. Mikael smiles and tells the clerk the same thing he told that bus driver and the old woman at the stop when they got off: Drunk, I'm afraid: Poor thing had a touch too much liquor. They roll their eyes, sigh, probably assume that he's her father and wave him along unnoticed.

Katherine Pierce (Katerina Petrova, he remembers well even if she only remembers him from Chicago) is a little more alert when they get to the room. She's a little steadier on her feet now, and her eyes are clearer. When he lets go of her arm, she stumbles over to the bed, but sits on the edge rather than collapses on it. She's still very pale, and she sags with obvious fatigue, but she slept for over an hour on the bus and has rejuvenated at least a little.

Mikael debates on what to do. He doesn't want her too alert, too strong, because then she might fight or flee. He can handle fight- Flight is trickier. It's been, by Katherine's admission, somewhere in the realm of twenty years since he was trapped in that coffin, and the landscape and culture has probably changed enough that he'll need a little help navigating it- for now.

The debate is whether or not he should pep her up a bit.

In the end, he remembers what she is and what he is and that he can compel her to stay by his side, and so he wordlessly rolls up his arm and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket. He doesn't know where his other weapons are; probably stolen by the witch that locked him away.

Mikael used to cut his arm for his children when he saw the bloodlust start to grow in their eyes. Here, drink. And when they looked at him in horror, he would glare back and them and say Would you rather attack someone outside? It won't kill you, and it will keep you sated. Just do it. Back when they respected him, feared him, they did. He misses the days when they obeyed him.

Katherine watches him warily- she probably isn't convinced that he doesn't intend to kill her- and confusion flickers in her eyes when he slices his own arm. When he puts the blade away and starts to approach her, her eyes darken. "Fuck no."

"You can drink," Mikael says flatly. "Or you can starve. Because if you think I'm letting you attack any humans on my watch, you're sadly mistaken."

"For all I know, your blood is as good as poison."

"It isn't. Drink or starve, Katerina. Those are your choices." She tenses visibly at the mention of her old name, but merely glares at him for a moment before shutting her eyes and letting her head droop for a moment. He assumes that she's taking a moment to cope with the decision- she's too weak to decline. She thinks maybe she might have a chance to escape if she gets stronger. She hopes he's underestimating her.

He's not.

Katherine sucks in a deep breath through her nose, still quite obviously displeased with the situation, but then heaves out a long-suffering sigh and leans towards him a bit, acquiescing. Her attitude is starting to grate on him; he can understand Klaus, but why had Elijah been attracted to this girl?

He wordlessly offered her his arm, and with only a slight moment of hesitation she accepts it. Her eyes flicker darkly, and he sees a flash of sharp white teeth before he feels them dig into his arm. The fangs aren't always preventable when the bloodlust takes over, but it's better that he made the cut himself rather than just letting her bite.

Katherine shifts her weight and teeters on the edge of the bed, her head colliding with Mikael's chest. His free hand jumps reflexively to her back, steadying her, and he waits patiently as she drinks, carefully monitoring every lost drop. She seems like the kind that will perhaps try to return the favor and drink until he's dry, but that's more of her delusion that she can actually bring harm to him.

He hears her take in a bit of air, choke slightly, groan because she's drinking very fast and probably giving herself a massive headache in the process. Her nails dig into his arm like she thinks he'll pull it away. Color starts to return to her skin, and her grip on him grows stronger by the minute. A drop of blood escapes, rolling down the curve of his arm in a thick line.

Katherine unlatches from his arm and draws her tongue along his skin to catch it.

It's now that Mikael grabs her by the hair and rips her off.

Reenergized, she springs backward onto the bed on her hands and knees. Her eyes are bright, cunning; and her mouth is smeared with his blood. The veins around her eyes are still reasonably prominent, and her lips are curled up to reveal her fangs. She is a vampire. A predator.

She slides towards the edge of the bed fluidly. Mikael watches in silence, and wonders if this is the side of her his sons saw when they looked at her: All darkness and heat and mischievousness. It compliments her nicely.

Her tongue darts out to lick at the blood still clinging to her lips, and his own eyes darken. Katherine smirks when she's right in front of him again, and her wiles are back full swing. She is full of impudence.

And she is breathtaking.

"Not bad."

Without thinking, Mikael drags her forward into a kiss.

For a moment, Katherine's surprise is visible- She was probably expecting some kind of reaction, maybe a smart remark or an eye-roll, but not this. His hand comes up and entwines in the hair on the back of her head, pulling her head back and making her grunt sharply. Her hands jump up to his shoulders and dig in there, and he can't tell if she's trying to tell him to get off or keep going. He keeps going anyway.

It's been a long, long time. Being a vampire has not robbed him of those basic needs that most men have, but it took him two hundred years before he could stand to get into bed with a woman, and he has yet to find a bed partner he's cared for even a tenth as much as he cared for his wife. No one has ever measured up to her emotionally, physically, mentally. The sex is never that good by comparison.

Katherine tugs hard, insistently on his shoulders, trying to pull him down, closer to her. Not the actions of a non-consenting person. Soon he's on the bed with her, and though this is mostly romantic the kiss has turned bloody- they're doing more than just nipping at each other now. He sucks on a wound he's made in her bottom lip.

She suddenly shoves Mikael away for a moment, and she reaches down and yanks her top off, bra and all. He remembers the days when it actually took time for women to remove their clothing (Too much time, depending on the era and fashions). Katherine yanks him back down, and it suddenly occurs to Mikael that he's become too reactive: She's calling the shots here, and that's probably due to the fact that it's been- Well, over fifty years at this point since his last sexual encounter.

And he'll be damned if he's going to let a smart-assed little whore like her take charge. He still has his pride.

Mikael wrecks Katherine. He pushes her down, claws at her shoulders and breasts, bites wherever he can reach and spreads the blood with his tongue. He rips her jeans and panties to shreds and fucks her like an animal, makes her scream his name and beg for more. The cuts and bruises heal so quickly, and he makes a point of ensuring that her skin is marked in one way or another during their tryst. He doesn't remove any of his clothing, just unbuttons his pants.

When they're done, Katherine pants and gasps and shakily fingers the skin that's healing but still painful. He lets her recover as he shucks off his clothing, and then they do it all again. He senses that if he slows or goes too easy on her she'll still have enough strength and sass to fire off a crack about his age. Part of him wishes that she would try, just so he could make her regret it.

She loses some of her energy that second round. She lies back and takes it, takes him, and the noises she makes this time are more like stuttered cries and whines. Katherine's nails scratch and scramble at his skin, but don't dig in and rip the way they did before. She keeps her teeth to herself. Mikael enjoys the blatant submissiveness this time, and works them both to completion with a sense of triumph.

When it's over, Katherine is clearly disgruntled at being dominated. He knows little of the specifics of her personality right now, but Mikael can already tell that she's a woman that doesn't take kindly to being outmatched- Especially by someone who would rub her face in it.

"Bastard." He thinks he hears her mutter. He briefly considers another, more punishing round but doesn't want her to think he's so easily goaded. Mikael does dig his nails into her arm, though, to get her attention.

"Don't think of going anywhere," He keeps his tone somewhat mild. "Because I will hear you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, old man." He was expecting that. But Mikael just smirks, lets go of her arm and watches as the angry red marks dissolve.

"The old man lasted longer than you did, didn't he darling?"

Katherine doesn't answer, and Mikael is satisfied.

-End