Hope and Leah had camped out in the den over fall break. They had planned to spend the four day weekend traveling (maybe Atlanta or Charleston) but Hayley wouldn't let Hope leave when she found out about the incident on campus, and Klaus just wouldn't let her leave. Full stop.

"Incident" was an exaggerated term. She had punched a boy on campus. That's it.

Parents overreact to the weirdest shit sometimes.

So the girls decided to just get their midterm essays out of the way now so that they could go out every night and stay out late once classes resumed.

Hope, who had apparently lived in Paris for some years (so fancy, Leah joked), had already finished her paper on the French Revolution. She was now snuggled into the couch, feet propped up on the end, her notebook computer warming her lap. She was scrolling through pictures of dogs.

"I can't believe they grounded you," Leah grumbled from her place on the floor, "We could have gone to like, Mexico."

Hope groaned.

"We've been over this, I'm not grounded. I'm on house arrest. It's different."

"You punched a guy in the face."

Hope repositioned herself so she was sitting up and staring right at Leah.

"Not just…any guy. It was one of those werewolf frat boys that I know has been following me. First, I saw him at the Grind, okay fine. But then he was right behind me when I was returning those books and then he was in Tudor England."

Leah just rolled her eyes. "Maybe because he's enrolled in Tudor England."

The disbelief on Hope's face made Leah throw up her arms in surrender.

"Fine, but you shouldn't have punched him."

Hope snapped her computer shut and stood up. She had her father's temperament.

"Focus a little less on my life and a little more on yours and maybe you'd be done with that essay, yeah?"

Ouch, Jesus. Leah got back to work with her highlighter.

Hope stomped from the room, making sure to tread all over Leah's articles.

Definitely from her father.

/

Leah had been focusing on nothing but this fucking essay for three hours and it's still not done. Hope was still upstairs; she was blasting her music, as if that would cover the sounds of her arguing with her mom. For a family of supernatural creatures, the Mikaelsons were fantastically normal – dysfunctional, just like every other family.

Dysfunctional, just like 15th century France. At least that is what she was trying to argue. Giving up, she hid her face in her folded arms and decided to just nap it out right there on the kitchen table.

She only got two seconds of sleep.

"May I join you?"

Oh, no, that voice. It's him.

Leah raises her head slowly, her hair falling into her face.

"Yeah, uh, please." She moves the stack of books to the side as the man in the suit places his mug on what she is sure is a pure crystal coaster.

Everything in this house is high class, including Hope's uncle.

"You're terribly studious for such a lovely afternoon."

What do you say to an opening like that? The truth, I guess?

"Writing an essay. It's due tonight…and I started…today."

Leah looked up - something crashed in the room up above them. Hope had probably thrown a lamp. Elijah didn't look up, he looked at her.

"Ah, I see." Elijah took a sip from his tea without breaking eye contact. It was the same way he had looked at her when she was wearing only a towel; this time, she was wearing far more than just a towel, but his gaze was just as intense and intrusive.

"What is it about?"

"Women in 15th century France."

"Wonderful. I may be able to help."

/

Elijah Mikaelson knew many things. Great works of literature and the music of every continent; several languages and cuisine from around the world; the art of war and how to please a woman; he knew that Klaus was paranoid, Rebekah stubborn and that he dedicated himself to everyone but himself. He knew that Hayley was not the same person she was before she had Hope, before she turned into a hybrid, and of course,

Elijah knew the history that he had lived through, his own and that of others. What he did not know, and what he could not fathom, was why Hope's friend would voluntarily spend time in this house, around this family.

Or why she would start a paper the day it was due.

He was suspicious and intrigued and entangled all at once.

15th century France, he understood; Hope's friend, on the other hand…

"You spelled Agincourt wrong."

He was currently standing over Leah, reading her essay as she proofread. It was not a bad essay (it was not a great essay either), but the sheer mundanity of this exercise was uniquely amusing.

"Oh, crap." Leah typed away. She had long, thin fingers, like those of a pianist, Elijah noted, or the hands of a nurse. Her nail polish nearly matched her hair.

"Okay. That's it then. Done."

She closed her computer, turning around in her chair to face Elijah. The air between them was cool. The only sound was her computer powering down, the slight whirl of its fan. Hayley and Hope had even stopped fighting. Elijah could muse on what they had been arguing about, but he would rather help this random young woman before him.

Odd.

Leah's voice broke the silence. "How," she began slowly, "am I supposed to cite this, you, just telling me stories and things you know. I don't think MLA says anything about citing 1000-year old vampires."

"You can cite what I said as an interview, or a lecture. I actually do have a doctorate in History. Several, actually."

"You?"

A murmur of agreement as he places his cup in the sink. A flash of sunny brown hair and Hope and Hayley stand in the kitchen, two sisters in appearance.

"Can Leah stay for dinner?" Hope pleads with Elijah as Hayley maintains her grip on her daughter's arm. Clearly Hope had broken away from Hayley and Elijah finds that highly amusing.

He takes utmost pleasure in ignoring the hell no Hayley is flashing him with her eyes.

"That sounds like a lovely idea… Leah?"

The scandalized look on Hayley's face has Leah packing her bags in a second. She shoves her computer in her messenger bag and slings it over her shoulder.

"Rain check perhaps? I really got to get back to campus. I actually might go into the department later and knock out some work study hours."

Hope rolls her eyes at how fucking lame that excuse is.

Elijah is all diplomacy though; "Perhaps another time."

Noookay maybe, Leah thinks to herself, grabbing her cardigan from the back of the chair.

Elijah drives a hard bargain.

"Hope, can you give me a ride back?"

She knows, that Hope knows, that she's running away. Leah's gonna get an earful on the car ride back.

Hope looks to her mom for permission.

"Okay, but come right back."

The two girls head out the front door. Leah rolls her eyes. If you're under house arrest, you can't leave the house, that's like the fucking point.

She's totally is grounded.