Author's Note: Since my laptop died I had to write all my ideas and stories in actual notebooks. I had this story done the night the episode aired but unfortunately could not publish it. But now that I got my new laptop it's up and ready to go. I think Elena needs more angsty moments in the show, since she's under a lot of pressure. And this is suppose to be a "behind the scenes" oneshot. There is no couple here besides the cannon ones. I made this so that Elena could blow off steam. Enjoy and review, because reviews make wars go away. And if you don't want wars, you'll review.


Elena missed her old life, the one where she had been a cheerleader and dated the captain of the football team and was friends with everyone. Things that normal kids had the luxury of doing and being. She missed the time when she could go out for a jog without thinking someone was hunting her down. When she didn't have to chose between her first love and his self destructive older brother. When the guys fighting over her didn't literally bare their fangs at each other.

So there Elena stood, leaning her arms over the balcony railing as she inhaled the chilly night air. Goose bumps ran up her arms from the cold but she ignored it. Anything was better than going back down to the party and having to stare at the people she'd let drink that blood tinted champagne, practically handing them their death sentence. They were down there, laughing and dancing, unaware that they were as good as dead.

But most of all she didn't want to have to go back down and answer anymore of Elijah's questions. She loathed having to look him straight in the eyes, smiling and telling him everything was all right. Elijah was a friend, and she had to let him drink her blood, knowing what it would do to him and his family.

For a moment she wondered if the old Elena would've allowed that to happen, to let a friend the fall just to get rid of Klaus. She all ready knew the answer. No. The old Elena would've shoved that drink out of his hand and would've done anything to keep him safe. That's how she used to be. Bravery and righteousness.

But that was exactly the problem, wasn't it? She wasn't the old Elena. The old Elena wouldn't have kissed Damon back, knowing that part of her still loved Stefan. The old Elena would've chased after Damon, assure him she didn't mean what she had said and hold him until he believed her. Because he was her friend. But now all she could do was stare guiltily at his retreating back, willing to give anything to be able to choose honestly between him and Stefan. To not make him hurt himself and everyone around him because Elena couldn't love him the way he loved her.

She just really missed her life where vampires and werewolves were just creatures in books and movies.

"You're going to get a chill, standing out here in the cold."

Elena turned swiftly, her eyes narrowing as she took in Klaus, wine in hand and tux blood stained. Elena's skin crawled and her pulse raced, a natural reaction to Klaus' presence. Her body never forgot the fear he'd invoked in her so many times.

He glanced down at the hand Elena was trying to stop from trembling. He'd really caught her off guard. "Don't worry, dear, I'm not going to bite. That Valerie girl though, she wasn't so lucky," he said, his voice slurring the slightest bit, enough for Elena to notice.

Elena's eyes tightened at the comment. Klaus smiled and lifted his hands in joking surrender. "She's fine. A bit shaky on the feet but she'll live." He took a sip from the wine glass as he inched forward." "And don't look so tense, you know I'm not going to hurt you. I wouldn't dare lay a finger on my blood supply." This time there was an unmistakable slur in his voice.

Elena relaxed a bit despite herself. It had been a hectic night and she was letting her nerves get the best of her. But she also didn't really want to talk to Klaus right now, she'd had enough for once day.

"You're drunk," Elena said as a way of dismissal. She straightened up and glanced at the empty hall behind him.

"Only a bit," Klaus said with a small smile. He noticed where Elena's eye trailed off but took it as a different sign. "You want a drink? Hmm, your a bit too young, but I guess it can be allowed. As long as you don't get alcohol poisoning." With a small snap of his fingers a girl, around age 16 or 17, came scurrying down the hall with a tray of empty glasses and a bottle of expensive looking wine. There was a vaguely glazed look about her as she beamed up at Klaus and asked how she could be of assistance. Compelled, Elena thought grimly, but didn't comment. When the girl turned her head slightly as she handed Klaus his wine and glass, Elena realized where she recognized her from.

"You compelled my science partner?" Elena snapped. She wanted to haul the girl out of there, but the girl would inevitably make a big fuss and run back to the mansion the first chance she got. Klaus had probably compelled her to stay in the house at all times.

Klaus glanced up briefly at his server as she refilled his drink. "Oh really? I hadn't noticed." At Elena's glare he sighed and dismissed the girl. "No really, Elena. I don't do everything with the sole intention of hurting you," he said, serious despite his intoxicated state. Suddenly he threw the empty cup at her. She barely caught it, scrambling a bit with it to keep it from falling.

Briefly she wonderered when he reflexes had gotten vampire-good, but figured it was probably all those life and death sitautions she always got herself stuck in.

"I don't want to drink," Elena said firmly.

Klaus merely raised his eyebrow as he stepped forward to pour her a drink. Elena began to protest before Klaus cut her off.

"I saw the Salvatore boy leave. You know, after he snapped my brother's neck. He seemed pretty upset with you." There was a brief flash of worry, for Damon's sake, that passed through Elena's eyes. But Klaus noticed it.

"Oh don't worry I'm not going to hurt him. Kol really did need to be put in his place. My brother's just lucky to have gotten off so easy. My mother would've been a lot stricter with him," he said with a bit off fondness.

Elena inwardly clamped up at the mention of Esther. She opened her mouth to say that she was leaving, but something inside her stopped herself. She had been through a rough night. A really rough night. The mention of Damon made her dread the next day where she'd have to face him, knowing she'd hurt him for what must have been the hundredth time. She didn't want to see the pain in his eyes.

Screw it, Elena thought, she deserved a drink.


"She actually told you that had daddy issues?" Elena breathed out between laughs. She stuck out her empty glass and watched as Klaus poured the deep red wine in. There was a small smile on his face.

"Yes, and she didn't even try to be polite about it. She said something along the lines of my compelling people because I can't get them to care about me any other way," he said with light amusement.

Elena let out another giggle as she leaned her head back against the balcony. She was sitting on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her casually. She thinks they fell asleep, but doesn't try to move them to confirm it. The doors to the balcony were shut, the curtains dimming the light. But there was still enough brightness to make out Klaus beside her, in the same position as her but with his legs more elegantly laid out.

There was a more than half empty bottle on wine in the small space between them.

"Wow. And she's actually still among the living?" Elena said as a joke. She sipped slowly, the bittersweet taste melting on her tongue. It was pretty good, Elena thought. She wouldn't mind having a few of those in her house.

Though it was meant as joke, a strange look crossed Klaus' face. He tilted his slightly to the side, and he wore a thoughtful expression.

"No one's ever told me that. Well, in that way I mean. Very few people are as honest with me like she was."

Elena turned to look at him. "You like her," she said bluntly, but gently. She actually felt vaguely bad for him, considering the girl he was talking about probably wouldn't touch him with a 10 foot pole.

Klaus furrowed his eyebrows and gave her a sideways glance. "She's interesting," he finally admitted after a moment of silence. Then he smiled. "But she probably won't even look in my general direction again. All the jewels and dresses in the world won't be able to quell her. She has quite a bit of spark."

Elena arched an eyebrow. "You really gave her jewelry? Really? I know being alive before Columbus kind of makes you slow on trends, but you could try to pick up on better ways to get women."

Klaus glare at her a bit. "My methods are fine. Aren't woman suppose to get starry eyed over jewelry, anyways?"

Biting back a grin Elena shrugged. "Yeah I suppose, but obviously she isn't such a fan. Or maybe she just hates you that much," she said with a bit more sting then she intended.

But Klaus didn't say anything, just stared ahead of him. Elena sighed and straightened up.

"Maybe you should try a different approach," she said, being helpful as a way of an apology. "Something sentimental. I'm sure even you can pull that off."

Klaus chuckled and leaned his head back. "I'm sure being alive for over a thousand years will leave me capable of doing that."

Elena nodded a bit. She took a sip as she her intoxicated mind tried to brain storm. She didn't even really know why she was actually trying to help Klaus, but blamed it on the alcohol. Besides, it wasn't going to hurt anyone. She had practically sealed Klaus' death that night; the least she could do was give him some romantic advise.

"You can try writing her a poem or drawing her a picture. You did say you showed her your drawings, maybe it'll mean something to her."

Klaus blinked and turned to her. "You're not half bad at this," he muttered. He scrunched up his face thoughtfully.

Abruptly he sat up, idly stretching out his cramped muscles that he'd gotten from sitting on the floor. "I have to go." He paused as if considering his next words. "Thank you, Elena."

She stared up at him. For a dreadful second she thought about telling him about Esther's plan, about how she had willingly dropped her blood into the drinks so that they could kill him. She wanted to tell him that he still had time to save him and his family.

But she stopped herself. She forced a smile and waved him off. He retreated, his body moving a bit sluggish, but the effects of the alcohol seemed to be leaving him. He turned back and gave Elena one last look before closing the doors behind him. He guessed their friendliness could be excused on the fact that they were both drunk.

Elena inhaled the cold night air, feeling it burn down her throat and into her lungs. It helped clear her mind.

She put down her drink, deciding it was probably not best to drink anymore since she had to drive herself home. With Matt in the hospital and Damon on hiatus, she didn't think she'd be able to snag a ride.

Right when she was about to leave the balcony doors opened with a swoosh of air. Stefan stepped out into the chilly night air, hands in his suit pockets. He glanced down at Elena, who still hadn't moved from her spot on the floor.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing a bit as he noticed the bottle of wine. Elena blinked at the sudden light flooding in and groaned. She really didn't want to see Stefan. She had had enough Salvatore for one evening.

"I was just about to leave," she said, trying to stand up, cursing softly when her legs prickled with a pins and needle sensation. She scrambled to stand straight, making it look as graceful as she could manage.

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it a bit too late to be drinking?" Elena glared at him as she straightened out her rustled dress.

"I'm fine, okay? I was just going home," she snapped, walking past Stefan in fast strides.

But he stopped her with a firm grip on her arm. "Oh no you're not, not in that condition."

Elena turned around to glare at him, her eyes sharp. "Stefan, let go of me. I mean it." She half considered struggling with him and making a scene, but stopped herself. She was too tired.

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "How are you going to drive without these?" he said, pulling out her car keys. She blinked at him, ready to lunge forward to claim her keys. When had she lost them?

Stefan stepped back as if anticipating the move. "I'm driving," he said sternly. Not taking no for an answer, he began leading the way into the hall. He glanced back expectantly at her.

Elena was so furious she thought she was going to either scream at the top of her lungs or cry her eyes out. But then Stefan's eyes softened and he faced her.

"Come, Elena," he said, gentle and inviting. And just like that Elena deflated like a balloon. She exhaled and brushed past him. He watched her back before following suit.

Elena wanted to scream at him, she really did. She wanted to tell him how he had no right to make her heart beat faster and to make a stomach flutter without even trying. She wanted to tell him he had no right to make her so in love with him. That despite all the hurt and anger she had towards him, one look at him and she realized she couldn't stop loving him.

They headed towards the car, silent as the night around them.

Elena had calmed down, and her brain had mostly cleared up. As she tried to remember what had happened after she got drunk, she just remembered bits and pieces of her conversation with Klaus. About a girl who liked horses and about a drawing. She shook her head, hoping Klaus wouldn't take her being nice to him as a sign. She had mostly been blowing off steam.

As they began to drive away Elena decided that it was safe to tell Stefan what had happened that night - minus the drunk incident. It would make her feel better, to have someone know what she had done. And he wouldn't judge her decisions. He would agree it was the best thing to do and that they would figure out where to go from there.

Because despite everything, he was there for her. Ripper or not. Compelled or not.

But she decided not to tell him about the guilt. That was something she would keep to herself, and only to herself. No one would understand it but her.