A.N.: I keep getting really annoyed whenever Klaus threatens Elijah with the "oath of loyalty you once swore to me". They swore it TO EACH OTHER. Why did his siblings indulge Klaus' whims through the centuries? He absolutely needed someone to keep him humble all these years…I don't get how the middle-brother ended up making all the rules for his family—Elijah was the eldest; he was patriarch after Mikael. And back in the olden days, respect for one's elders, especially the patriarch, was held above all. No wonder Rebekah has a complex; women weren't factored in at all!

By popular demand I have added the link to my Pinterest board for this story to my profile page. The BBC YouTube videos of Strictly Come Dancing clips are a must-see for this chapter, because Giulia dances them all! Well, the Samba, the Charleston, Sophie Ellis-Bextor's paso doble… With Aljaž, or Cara (the Charleston) and…drum-roll…the tango, with Elijah.

And oh my god, the tiny little butterfly-kiss Elijah gives *gagme* Elena when she's masquerading as Katherine, after a full kiss. I swoon. Every time.

And my laptop, a third-hand business laptop, has finally given up after four years of my owning it; the hinges have broken. So I'm in the market for a new one…

Drunken Binges, Funerals and Formals

21

The Tango

"—I…wow…" Giulia sighed out a breath, stunned and dazzled: Ashlyn had managed to shepherd Cara out of Bloomingdale's, filling a limousine sent by Elijah with their purchases, and they had stopped outside a building on Times Square, where Cara had an 'appointment'. Given Cara's personality, Giulia had been wary of what kind of an appointment it was, but when Ashlyn said she also needed to pick something up, Giulia's curiosity had compelled her follow the two girls into the building.

Chocolat's atelier overlooked Times Square, and it was a huge, airy suite of rooms with polished floors, very stylish mirror-inlaid panelled walls, and scattered with velvet-upholstered pouffs, chaises and armchairs, little tables scattered around covered with nail-polishes, ribbons, pots of sequins…it was a dream of fabrics, from butter-soft leather to the finest of silks that looked as if fairies had woven it, silk-satins in vibrant hues, bolts of handmade lace in hundreds of different designs; organic, custom-matched dyes and tins of teas organised with trimmings—ribbons, delicate handmade lace, studs, an entire wall was organised with tubes of beads of every design and colour, tiny silk flowers, chains of every design. There were girls (of every shape and form) standing on little stools, while tailors worked at fitting the garments they modelled.

They had come through the foyer, actually a small and very exclusive boutique that sold only Chocolat's handmade lingerie. Glasses of champagne had been given to them, as well as a plate of petit-fours bought from the new Ladurée that had just opened, and Giulia's stomach had ached to run her hands over the luxurious silks, decadent lace picked with tiny seed-beads, even the buttery leather lingerie that made her raise her eyebrows, strangely drawn to the garments but wondering who would ever be daring enough to appreciate her wearing them. There were dreamy chemises, exquisite silk robes, bridal-wear that made her sigh with delight, nightdresses, and babydolls of every design, fabric and embellishment that could be envisioned. There were different collections: sensual seductress; playful dominatrix; frisky vixen; 'unvirginlike' virgin-whites; vintage; luxurious courtesan…at least, they were what came to Giulia's mind when she went through the collections. Agent Provocateur, eat your heart out, she thought.

"Darlings!" Chocolat beamed, striding over in all his glory, no longer toting a Cajun margarita but spools of silk threads draped across his front, a pincushion-bracelet (snakeskin, with a purple velvet cushion!) and a tape-measure draped around his neck. He exchanged kisses with Cara, sighed over the state of Ashlyn's red eyes and occasionally-trembling lip, but his eyes sparkled when he glanced at Giulia. "Ah…a new disciple."

"I would sell my best-friend's soul to be eternally supplied with your lingerie," Giulia said honestly, and Chocolat chuckled.

"Thank you," he said warmly, appreciating the compliment. "Well, you needn't be so drastic. Since you're a virgin here, your first picks are free." Giulia raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, no, I couldn't—"

"Of course you can!" Cara called, holding a bra up to her chest thoughtfully. Giulia smiled at Chocolat.

"Is this how you find your clients? Utilise drug-dealers' tactic; the first taste for free so they're hooked?" she smiled, and Chocolat laughed richly.

"Absolutely, chéri," he smiled. "Now, I will pick you out some things to suit your colouring and figure—if there's a design you especially cannot live without, I will have it made up for you in a colour to flatter you. No yellows. Absolutely not. Don't even ask. Jaundice. But we can go with the dramatic tones—jewels, the metallics…you'd look irresistible in rose-gold…copper, too…raspberry, all the berries, really…you could even get away with a blue-undertone coral… Red. Oh, I must have you to New York to photograph my Valentine's collection—you and Cara? I will be turning people away."

"You already do," Ashlyn smiled. She glanced around the atelier shyly; Giulia had noticed that, despite Cara's boisterousness, Ashlyn, the sixteen-year-old witch, was shy. Surrounded by confident, self-possessing, brash vampires, licentious witches, perhaps her response to that was her shyness. How did someone become confident when surrounded by brazen vampires who had lived for centuries, who had experienced things no-one could imagine, realised how much was taken for granted by the modern world…

"True," Chocolat nodded, immodestly—considering the works of art he had created, Giulia didn't blame him for being proud of his talent. One of his assistants darted around the atelier, picking up things Chocolat called for, specific fabrics, trimmings, new designs Chocolat had just dreamed up, some of the ensembles Giulia had seen out in the boutique, and they were treated to a mini fashion-show of the garments Chocolat was working on. Lingerie packaged beautifully was given to Cara, an order she had placed last week, and a flirty, precious little babydoll for Ashlyn was tailored to her, with matching French knickers of lace trimmed with tiny pearls and diamantes.

Giulia was treated to several complete lingerie sets—bras, panties, fully-fashioned stockings, garter-belts, negligees and babydolls, a beautiful kimono, several garters, all in hues of garnet, deep, red-based amethyst, muted raspberry lace, black, a rose-gold fringe playsuit, an exquisite ruby-red stretch-satin quarter-cup bra with off-the-shoulder ruby tulle cap-sleeves glinting with tiny ruby glitter, and a tiny veil of tulle across the bust, laced with tiny ruby ribbon, and a matching ouvert—fully-fashioned vintage briefs, tulle and stretch-satin decorated with ribbon following the hipbones, and the naughty slit in the crotch decorated with a tiny trim of tulle.

Chocolat was the master of extreme luxury concealing naughtiness. Every single one of his pieces featured either removable veils across quarter-cups, or slits in the crotch of panties, strappy thongs or peek-a-boo designs, or sheer, taunting designs meant to make the mouth water, or strappy ones that made the wearer look like a gift… Giulia had never been in love with inanimate objects before—she had fallen hard and fast for Chocolat's lingerie.

When Chocolat had taken Giulia's measurements, an assistant whirling around gathering fabrics he wanted, trimmings, sketchbooks, coloured pencils, their things were beautifully wrapped and handed over, and the limousine drove them across town.

Giulia had hoped for food: the limousine stopped outside a dance-studio, leased by Aljaž, and for an hour, they joined a vampire-wiccan jazz-dance lesson. A lot of Red Hot Chilli Peppers, a lot of leaps, a lot of fun, and Giulia learned that Ashlyn loved to dance; she had grown up learning ballroom, Latin and ballet, but her favourite was jazz, which she had been learning for a year. Mostly because Aljaž led the session himself… Giulia could see the appeal.

They drove by Katz's for pastrami sandwiches, the size of which would feed Giulia for a week! And they did eventually return to Chocolat's penthouse. He met them there, the living-room having been tidied by a professional cleaning-company, the poker-tables removed, and in their places, several racks of clothing bore their names—one for Cara, one for Ashlyn, one for Giulia, and Lexi was going through the clothes hanging from the rail designated as hers.

"Hey. You've been gone ages," Lexi said, glancing up from a gown of sapphire silk.

"We've been watching Aljaž's buns," Cara grinned, head canting to one side as she caught sight of the label on her rail of clothing. "Under the pretence of attending his jazz dance-class. Picked up sandwiches at Katz's. And, not that I'd win any money from it, but I totally won the bet I'd be able to drag Ashlyn out. Where's the statuesque god of chilli-cacao?"

"Upstairs, fixing his makeup," Lexi said. "Told me you'd stopped by the atelier. I need to get some new lingerie."

"You onto someone new?"

"Aren't I always?"

"I can never keep up. I don't even bother to learn their names now," Cara sighed. Giulia sat down on one of the upholstered wood armchairs set in the sunlight filtering through the sheers—she glanced at Lexi, alarmed, but saw that the sunlight wasn't harming her; the glass must be tempered to deflect UV rays. Clever. But expensive. Ashlyn handed Giulia her leftover sandwich, sitting on Chocolat's crisp white sofa, and they curled up, finishing their sandwiches, reading magazines—Giulia had picked up Cara's Kindle and was reading The Once and Future King.

T.H. White kept her enthralled long enough to distract her from what was going on around her; girl-stuff. She had thought Caroline was bad enough, and Giulia enjoyed indulging her. But to go out for nine p.m., Chocolat and Cara wanted to get started on "party-prep" now. And when a wax-specialist arrived, alarm-bells started chiming…Ashlyn refused, blushing hotly, but Giulia toughed it out, because she felt that…well, the vampires were waiting for a time when she would balk. She wasn't competitive, and she didn't let herself get pushed into doing things she didn't want to, but it felt a little as if she had to prove her mettle.

Torture. And then more; Chocolat wanted to do all their hair and makeup. He adored Giulia for her bone-structure and long, thick hair with its natural curl, and when he had decided how she would wear her hair, he revealed an exquisite hair-ornament to decorate her 'do, and chose her outfit for her. Down to the opaque black tulle briefs trimmed with black-opal ribbon. Cara donated a killer pair of black strappy sandal stilettos for her to wear, and a black-leather Hermés 'Kelly Dog' cuff, and her mini-dress was one of Chocolat's creations—alongside lingerie, he specialised in dresses and gowns for ballroom-dancing. It was of translucent black tulle, embroidered with vintage-tattoo style roses in shimmering black threads, backless, with tiny cap-sleeves, a ribbon from shoulder-to-shoulder, a subtle black sweetheart bustier-front keeping everything tucked in and pushed up, and a fringe-skirt of strings of seed-beads in opalescent purple, onyx and black pearl, a trim of frothy black feathers bridging the seam between tulle and beaded fringe.

Feathers weren't her thing, but Giulia adored the dress once she wore it; her legs seemed to go on for miles. And apparently, on nights when Elijah hosted, the place they were going to tonight was going to be a long night of dancing.

"Depends who's hosting—it can be trance, jazz, punk or a classical orchestra will perform, or we'll have a really hot DJ in, or big-band, or, cabaret, even opera," Cara said, shrugging. "The mood is never the same from one night to the next, sometimes it's old-school classy, very decadent and romantic, the next night it's hedonistic and fun, or grungy and a little dangerous… To get in you have to know the right people; and only the right people know how to get in…it's a speakeasy for vampires and witches. I guess you could call it Elijah's seat of power. If this were True Blood, it'd be a far more luxurious Fangtasia."

"It's way better than Fangtasia," Ashlyn said, glancing up; they were doing facials and manicures, the music on in the background, the plasma showing The Princess Bride, and Cara was teaching them how to drink absinthe. She had told them Elijah usually served it alongside champagne at his evenings. "I think it's more like Moulin Rouge combined with a Victorian ballroom, a Twenties speakeasy, Gossip Girl's Victrola, with the most beautiful painted sprung-floor. And the bar is amazing, too; Elijah only stocks top-shelf. And no blood."

"Yep. It's a dance-hall," Cara agreed lightly. "Part concert-venue, music-hall, social epicentre of Manhattan vampire society. The crème de la crème of vampires hope for an invitation. Elijah's very discerning in his guest-list, though. He doesn't tolerate any trouble, not there."

"Do you go there often?"

"Always when Elijah's hosting; they're usually the most illustrious nights of the year, but sometimes I'm host," Cara grinned. "You get a different crowd on each of the different themed nights; we give a calendar of events, so we all know what's happening. Most nights I'll either start the night off there, or finish it. Elijah will give out blood before dawn so no lushy vamps go on a liquor-fuelled spree. I mean, a city this size, we can get away with anything, but it does mean we have less to clean up. And Elie always feels so guilty…"

Chocolat absolutely devoted to making them look their best, Giulia observed, enjoyed, participated in the fun that started growing around her as Cara's excitement for the night ahead grew palpable. Instead of a dress, Cara was wearing a chic black sleeveless halter jumpsuit with a cut-out detail at the bust, sleek black pointed-toe stilettos and a large, masculine silver watch, with smudged eye-makeup and nude lips. She looked fierce, and very beautiful, with her tousled hair parted dramatically to the side, but she ruined it slightly by bounding around the penthouse, a duck-roll stuck in her mouth as she texted at lightning-speed; Ashlyn had ordered Thai takeout.

Laughing at her antics, Giulia couldn't help but join in Cara's fun, thrashing around to Alice Cooper, The Rolling Stones, and, when Cara learned Giulia was a ballroom-dancer, making up their own Charleston routine. They were moshing around in Chocolat's couture panties and kimonos, with rollers in their hair, Chocolat chasing Cara around the room when she threatened to smudge her new manicure. Giulia would never admit it, but her stomach was hurting from laughing so much, and no matter how many times Lexi tried to ply her with absinthe to get her tongue loose enough to start bringing up the subject of her father, she was enjoying herself. She secretly enjoyed Chocolat teaching her how to sculpt her features, how to use primer to create eyeshadow looks that made her sigh—he had made up her eyes dramatically, creating smoky eyes out of shimmering pigment, in copper, fuchsia, ruby and rose-gold hues. From Chocolat's endless cosmetics collection, she was taught which tones and hues were the best for her colouring, how to apply them, even what to wear specific lipsticks and eyeshadow with. She secretly enjoyed having manicures and pedicures, and going through magazines—Cara had found Giulia's Pinterest boards, and was tapping away at her cell-phone as they chatted about shopping tomorrow—Cara was going to the Bon Jovi concert too, and wanted to look "shit-hot".

"Why? Not like you're gonna go home with anyone," Ashlyn said, looking bemused.

"Dearling, that is so not the point. Have I taught you nothing? We dress for ourselves—or compliments from our own sex. Men never notice," Cara said lightly. "'Cept the good ones, and they're rare. The little maggot is not one of them. Hey, maybe we can find you a fella at this shindig tomorrow night. Anyone who appreciates Bon Jovi will be starting off with at least one check in his favour."

"Are you coming to the concert?" Ashlyn asked Giulia, who opened her mouth—

"Of course she is," Lexi spoke up, smiling.

"I'd work on that ventriloquism—your lips need to move when Lexi speaks for you," Cara said, patting Giulia's shoulder. Giulia chuckled softly, downing her absinthe. She rather liked it. Lexi rolled her eyes, smiling, and posed in front of a little mirror, examining her mascara.

"I brought you here to take you to the concert," Lexi said, glancing at Giulia, who gave her a look.

"You didn't! You brought me here to Lexi me," she corrected, smiling, though she…was getting a little tired of Lexi's continued attempts to get her to talk about her dad, and Damon.

"Sounds kinky," Cara said, glancing up, excited.

"Okay, what does that mean?" Lexi chuckled. "Lexi you?"

"It's what Damon calls it, every time you've intervened in his or Stefan's lives in the past. A severe emotional ambush," Giulia said, and Lexi shrugged, conceding Giulia's translation of the verb Lexi's tactics had inspired.

"Well, maybe I'm just trying to get you to admit what's going on in that excruciatingly clever head of yours," Lexi said, giving her a look. Giulia shrugged a shoulder delicately. Admitting what was going on inside her head wouldn't change anything. It would only make others awkward. Giulia shrugged, and the conversation moved on; she had almost finished The Once and Future King, and classes Ashlyn was taking at her ultra-private school, her relationship woes with 'the little maggot', Cara taking Instagram pics of them getting ready, goofing off—she was hilarious, wouldn't let them dwell in misery: and perhaps listening to how Giulia had dealt with her cheating slut of a boyfriend had had an effect on Ashlyn. She looked thoughtful, considering, and when her phone buzzed with a text, Cara snatched it out of her hand and growled when she saw it was from 'the little maggot' wanting to…"meet me so we can talk this thru, xo": Ashlyn grabbed the phone back, and Giulia, sitting beside her on the sofa, saw her text back, "No. Going out w. friends. Get over urself; don't txt me again".

"Nice!" Cara grinned, peering over the back of the sofa, making them jump; they hadn't heard her approach. "Ashy-baby grows a spine!"

"Darlin', I am so proud," Chocolat toasted her, and Ashlyn flushed warmly, casting her phone a wistful glance before tucking it into her purse. She glanced shyly at Giulia.

"Clean break," she said softly, and Giulia nodded; she had done the same thing. Admittedly not via text, but baby-steps. Not everyone had her conviction. But Ashlyn looked very sad as she fiddled with her jewellery. It wasn't easy cutting ties with someone you had grown so close to; Giulia had experienced the deficit breaking ties with Tyler had created in her life. She had lost one of her oldest friends because of his extra-curricular activities outside their relationship.

And friendships, emotional ties with people, were especially important…when you were…orphaned. Ashlyn couldn't remember her parents at all; she had grown up with Elijah walking her to school every day, holding her hand, helping her with her homework, taking her to the playground, cuddling her when she had nightmares; Cara and Cosima, giving her advice about boys; Chocolat, teaching her about makeup and clothes. It was an unconventional childhood, one Giulia could sympathise with. Though she had been kept grounded by a human father, who had nourished her intelligence and given her a code of wisdom to live by, rather than one of morals.

Giulia knew that morals were ever-evolving. The measures of civility, justice, brutality and equality were always changing. Over the centuries, slavery, democracy, medicine, art, science had all evolved to change the world as it had been.

But one thing had remained the same; the need for community. Friendship, connection, love. Across the centuries, people had gathered to romance each other, to drink, to laugh, and to dance. And Giulia was invited to experience how centuries-old vampires gathered to have a good time, with the favoured witches of Manhattan.

Half the fun of an evening "at Elijah's" was getting ready, with Cara's playlists, Chocolat's fashion-advice, being taught how to drink absinthe, playing Minion Rush on the Kindle, Super Monkey Ball on the Wii (to general hilarity, putting the monkeys through the hurdles!) and watching Cara and Chocolat settle an old score, an old debt, with a lightsaber duel. Cushions were slain, absinthe spilt, the white sofa used as a springboard for Cara flying across the room in an attempt at "ninja-Jedi skillz", a very expensive vase was smashed, and Chocolat almost went postal when his autographed photograph of him with Liberace was knocked off the table.

"Okay, okay, that was the doorman, our limo's here, let's go before you murder each other," Lexi chuckled, setting the phone down in its cradle, and Cara chucked her lightsaber aside with a "Weeeee!" of delight, bounding over to the elevator. Night had fallen, completely, yet the city was thriving with life, lights…no stars in New York City. Wherever Elijah's place was, the limousine took them through streets unfamiliar to Giulia, still as she guessed it a part of Manhattan, to an elegant building with a Georgian façade; instead of stopping on the street, the limousine drove around the block; the building she guessed had once been a very luxurious private mansion, now nestled amongst sky-scrapers and built up to match them, the upper storeys with windows illuminated in the night.

She expected the underground chamber they drove into to be a dingy parking-garage, with woefully unflattering lighting, tempered-steel supports, a few fire-extinguishers…but it wasn't. It did have parking-spaces, admittedly, but on both sides there were small, unique shops, boutiques—a small, undiscovered galleria of shops dedicated to handmade backgammon tables, apothecaries selling rare herbs, a tiny shop specialising in voodoo equipment and legitimate tarot readings, vintage clothing, handmade cosmetics made the old-fashioned ways, a shop dedicated to chess-sets, a mystical bookshop… And the double-door entrance upstairs, the polished marble steps lined with red carpeting, the brass railing polished flawlessly, warm amber light emanating strongly from the sconces on the walls… People—vampires, or witches, Giulia didn't know, didn't care to ask because to her it didn't matter—loitered around the steps, dressed up as glamorously as they were, laughing, smoking cigarettes (in those long, Cruella de Vil holders), sipping saucers of champagne, or making out; the limousine drew up to the red carpeting, and the others climbed out.

Inside…Giulia was stunned.

They had to climb several flights of stairs, the wide, winding, elegant kind, until they reached a foyer, with loveseats, coat-check, and security—Jacques was there, looking out of sync in a sharp suit. It was panelled, beautifully polished, decorated with Deco Venetian sconces, art-glass chandeliers, and a wide set of double-doors opened onto the top of another staircase. It was…very Titanic, only missing the clock. But there were numerous handsome men dressed in suits and tuxedos, chatting and laughing with sumptuously-dressed women. The landing spread either side, wrapping around in a wide mezzanine balcony, with booths set back into the walls, panelled with a warm golden wood inlaid with antique mirrors, featuring soft, flattering amber lighting from delicate little black-glass chandeliers, curtains in raw silk for privacy, polished round tables and luxuriously-cushioned banquettes. Classic-style loveseats and armchairs upholstered with a modern flair were dotted around the mezzanine, looking down upon a full-size ballroom, a sprung parquet dance-floor with a hand-painted border; at the far end of the dance-floor, beneath a magnificent set of split stairs, was a full-size stage, on which a full band was assembled. Beneath the wraparound mezzanine, Giulia could see more booths tucked at the edges of the ballroom, with small round tables arranged around the edge of the dance-floor; fireplaces were spaced equidistantly along each wall, with small, fully-stocked bars, and many of the small tables featured towers of champagne-saucers glittering pale-gold in the warm lighting.

It was a decadent, exquisite place, a full ballroom recalling the most decadent era of cotillions, balls and court functions, smoky and slightly dark, full of ambience, amazing music, and the dance-floor was already packed with people showing off their moves—and this wasn't a high-school dance. When they danced, they were doing the tango, or the salsa, even the foxtrot, laughing, smiling at each other, having conversations while they danced. Drinking absinthe and champagne wasn't for the sake of getting drunk, but for the enjoyment of the quality of the liquor.

This was a party. A full band with ancient vampires and Chocolat's hedonistic witch friends showing off dancing, enjoying cocktails and champagne in superbly flattering lighting, kissing…it was one of Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette party-scenes, except with big-band, absinthe and superior personal hygiene.

Giulia could quite happily move into one of the curtained booths and spend the next thirty years dancing till she dropped every night, sipping champagne, drinking absinthe, chasing after Aljaž with his firm buns and gorgeous shoulder muscles.

"We're dancing!" Chocolat declared, and Giulia barely had a sip of champagne before she was being dragged onto the dance-floor. And she didn't leave it for at least an hour, dancing with Chocolat, Lexi, Ashlyn—who loved to dance, but was shy about showing off, and was bashful around men she didn't know; she would dance with Chocolat, and smiled, blushing, when she danced with Aljaž, and despite the boisterous people, the energetic music, the packed dance-floor, the laughter, chatter and gentle clinking of glasses, when Elijah entered the ballroom, Giulia knew. She felt it in her bones, more than the happy murmur that went around the seated guests, waving, smiling, they raised their glasses in a salute, and even as she danced, Giulia couldn't stop glancing around, watching Elijah's progress as he casually strolled around the hall, sipping a small gin martini, smiling as he greeted friends…

And he was wearing a tuxedo, sharp, immaculately tailored, down to the black bowtie and a subtly-patterned dark cummerbund, a pearlescent-black satin pocket-square and a little white ranunculus boutonnière with an ivy leaf the only decorations, his shining brunette hair combed neatly away from his face…

A sharp suit worn by a handsome man was to women what lingerie was to men. And Elijah… Wow. Giulia's stomach cramped, her blood warming, her body responding as she licked her lips, wanting a taste, fingers itching to thread through his hair, wanting to nip that dimple in his chin with her teeth, breasts heavy, nipples hardening… She had never been more sexually aware of another person, and he was…ironically, across a crowded dance-floor.

As the music changed, the band performing, Cara grinned, slightly toasted, and latched onto Giulia's hand, drawing her to the dance-floor again. "We're dancing—the Charleston. I'll be the dude, obviously."

"Obviously," Giulia laughed. The song ended, the band striking up 'Rock It For Me', and Giulia grinned at Cara, striking a pose as Cara did the same. They danced, performing the routine they had made up on a whim only a few hours ago, Cara acting the man's part, full of tumbles and lifts, it was fun, flashy and Giulia couldn't stop grinning, loving how the beaded fringe of her dress swished and whipped around, enjoying how the dance-floor around them cleared so they had room to do their flips and lifts. They finished their routine to applause, wolf-whistling, and laughter, Ashlyn and Lexi grinning and laughing at them; Cara gave her a loud kiss on the cheek, and the song segued; she danced with Chocolat, several random vampires, and then Aljaž proposed they dance a samba. It was flirty and fun and Giulia got to show off again; this was her kind of party. And there wasn't time to pause between songs for Lexi to ambush her, trying to get her to talk about things. Giulia wanted to dance, and she did, for hours; but her favourite dance of the entire night, possibly, was with Chocolat. Instead of going full-on drag-queen, he had adopted a tailored tuxedo with a shining black silk cummerbund and an embellished jacket with the flair of a Spanish bolero—perfect, for their paso doble to "You Got the Love".

The marvellous thing was, they weren't the only ones showing off. As far as she could tell, this place was a haven for vampires and witches to gather and just…be themselves. Have fun, show off, take delight in hedonism, to just enjoy themselves, enjoy their lives, having fun…with their friends. Their sisters—Cara was sitting out the song, sipping absinthe with Aljaž, while Vera danced a waltz with Elijah.

Giulia excused herself from the floor, claiming a glass of ice-water at the bar; she had learned to keep drinking water with her alcohol to make sure her hangover didn't cripple her for days, and she strolled around, taking in the different people gathered…it was a very ethnically-diverse gathering Elijah had brought around himself…the only vampires Giulia had met until this weekend were Caucasian. There were representatives of every race, and as far as she could tell, a great many accents, representing numerous different countries, some of which didn't even exist today because of ever-altering political boundaries. She walked upstairs, admiring the view down onto the dance-floor, and was sipping her water when someone approached her.

It was Elijah.

She stood up a little straighter, hyper-aware of his presence, and the tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips, his deep, warm brown eyes. Oh, but he was handsome. Giulia was dying to lick her lips, her stomach doing something funny that had little to do with her alcohol-consumption. She wanted a taste, and if she hadn't been a better poker-player, her expression might have showed just how hungry she was at the sight of him in his tuxedo…and the vision of him wearing only the bowtie.

Rubber-band snap, Giulia, he's a vampire, she told herself—but that didn't seem to matter. Again, her body was coming alive just at the sight of him, his nearness. She had met him merely eight hours ago, seen him less than a handful of times, knew only his name and the fact he had raised a little teenage witch since she was orphaned in infanthood, and could somehow tolerate everything Cara came up with.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, smiling warmly.

"I am," Giulia beamed. She gestured around vaguely. "This is all yours?"

Elijah gave a thoughtful shrug; she watched his fingers trail along the polished balustrade. His gold ring glinted softly in the rich light. He said softly, "It's for everyone."

Giulia sipped her water, glancing down, smiling at Cara and Chocolat dancing energetically downstairs. She glanced up at Elijah, licking her lips, and she said softly, "It's a haven, isn't it? Vampires, witches…you don't have to hide who you are here."

Elijah's smile widened, and his eyes, so dark in the rich, warm lighting, seemed to glow, a deliciously dark, mesmerising brown. Dark rum, was the best way she could describe the colour. But his expression flickered briefly, showing…sadness, and he said, quietly, "It's one small, safe place…in an unsafe world."

Giulia smiled; she could understand that. She had been watching a cluster of women for a few minutes, refilling their drinks with a wave of their hands, and she glanced at Elijah. "The only witches I know of don't like vampires. But here…drinking jäger-bombs together, dancing the tango."

"Well, I…this society does not tolerate cruelty for the sake of it," Elijah said calmly. He smiled at Giulia, as if he knew something of how she had seen witches and vampires interact. "We each keep the other's secret, and, at least as far as these covens go, we remain on amicable terms."

"You don't serve blood here," she observed curiously.

"Food isn't served at nightclubs."

"Touché," Giulia smiled. "Am I the only human here?" Elijah didn't scan the crowds; he just nodded. And he canted his head to the side, studying her. That awareness she felt flared up, as if he was running his hands slowly over her bare skin.

He gazed into her eyes, and said, "And yet you're not afraid." It wasn't a question. Giulia beamed.

"I'm enjoying myself too much," she said, and chuckled. "Is it ironic, that the only vampires I have ever known, know how to live in a way humans forget to?" She licked her lips, glancing away, thoughts of Damon jarring her slightly, back to reality. This was a wonderful place, an energetic party…she could get lost here. Down the rabbit-hole…and unlike Alice, she'd never go home again.

"Our perception of time is different…our lives are not mired in convention," Elijah said quietly.

Giulia nodded. Vampires didn't have to hold jobs. Their lives weren't dictated by meal-times, school schedules…all they had to worry about was sunrise.

"Cara said you were 'holding court' tonight," Giulia said, glancing at Elijah with a small smile. "Is that not an old-fashioned tradition?"

"Some traditions maintain the balance," Elijah smiled warmly. "Sophistication and brutality. We may subsist on blood, as leeches do…but we do not have to be animals…monsters."

Giulia gazed at Elijah. She had been imbibing champagne and absinthe most of the night, tempering it with water, but her mind was still sharp, even buzzed. She couldn't turn off her habit of observing things. And Elijah's tone, the sadness in his eyes, she bit her lip thoughtfully, and said softly, "You call yourself a leech, a monster."

"It's a phase," Elijah answered, glancing at her, an ironic little smile playing on his lips. "My perception of what I am alters…often." His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "Depending on what I am driven to do because of what I am…because of what others do."

"Do you take responsibility for everyone's actions?" she asked.

"Around here. They are my friends, my family…in another time, this might have been called my court," Elijah said, glancing down at the dance-floor. He sighed, then glanced at Giulia, smiling. She was mesmerised by his eyes, the expression in them contradicting that smile. "I take care of my family…and protect others when my friends are suffering… What are you smiling at?"

"Your eyes," she admitted. She allowed herself to indulge in admiring his features, the shine of his hair, those rich rum eyes. "Ancient eyes." She pressed her lips together, then said, smiling as she caught his eye and held his gaze, "You really are an Old One, aren't you?"

Elijah's lips twitched, his eyes sparkling. "The eldest."

She was seventeen years old: Damon was over 170 years old, and having observed him all her life, she couldn't help but ask, as someone who was ten times Damon's age… "How do you stand it?"

Elijah sighed, but he held her gaze. He gestured down at the dance-floor. "Nights like this. Kisses from Ashlyn when she was a little girl. Companionship. Kindness. Cara's enthusiasm. It is impossible not to appreciate the world evolving around us when Cara throws herself into it with so much vigour." Giulia chuckled.

"I can see that Cara's enthusiasm may become…exhausting after a little while," she said thoughtfully, watching Cara now chasing Aljaž around the dance-floor.

"Oh, she's not always as bad as this," Elijah smirked playfully. "I believe her energy is partly due to you."

Giulia raised her eyebrows, highly surprised. "Me?"

"Over our centuries together, Cara has done what few of us manage: she has evolved. She was always clever; and her judgement is infallible. Her greatest strength is also her most debilitating weakness; if she loves you, she will always love you. And it doesn't happen too often that Cara throws caution to the wind and embraces someone new," Elijah said calmly, gazing down at his old friend. "Even here, amongst friends we have had for decades, sometimes centuries—oh, she will always be the life of the party, the heart of any mischief, but openness, closeness… She has spent too many centuries with me." He gave Giulia an ironic, sad little smile. "But she has attached herself to you like a limpid… I've heard you…called her a 'meerkat on E' and claimed her heartbreak is masked by a love of fun."

Giulia grimaced guiltily, flushing with a little embarrassment that Elijah had heard what she had said to Cara's face about her. The only way she could explain herself was by saying, "There's a sculpture of Psyche in Cara's study. The girl is gazing down at this immaculate butterfly…the expression on her face is the one Cara wears when she spoke of a man named Isak."

Elijah turned an astonished look on her, his eyebrows raised. "She mentioned him to you?"

"He's one of the ones she will always love, isn't he?" Giulia guessed sadly.

"Very discerning," Elijah said, sounding…almost impressed.

Giulia glanced away, shrugging a shoulder delicately, gazing around. She glanced back at Elijah after a quiet moment. "All of this…you don't mind that I'm here? A human amongst the hidden supernatural realm?"

Elijah, trailing his fingertips along the balustrade, gave her a sidelong look. "Alexia has spoken of you, your upbringing…your family history."

Giulia nodded, biting her lip, and gazed across the hall. "The history of keeping the secret," she confirmed.

"You know discretion," Elijah said softly. "A highly valuable quality…" Giulia glanced at him, surprised; few people she knew appreciated discretion. They wanted to know everything. Every detail, demanding every secret… After a moment, Elijah said solemnly, "Alexia told me of your father. I cannot pretend to know how you are feeling—I was highly fortunate, I did not lose my parents until I was…the same age I am now." His lips twitched in another of his ironic little smiles, his eyes sparkling, but where his eyes were ancient, wise, there was depth to them, and she saw…compassion. Earnest sorrow. For her. A stranger.

"That was a long time ago," she said, remembering what Lexi and Cara had said of Elijah's age.

"It was…" Elijah smiled. He sighed heavily, the smile disappearing. "I can only apologise for how your relative behaved. Your father's death at the hands of a vampire, one whom you love, must have put you in a very awkward position."

"I'm handling it," Giulia said softly, barely a murmur. "And you don't have to apologise. You're not responsible for anyone's actions but your own… I understand that there are things I cannot control or anticipate…it's actually a rather liberating thought."

"Intelligent, discerning and discreet," Elijah said softly, giving her a sidelong look again. "I believe you may be very dangerous, Giulia Salvatore."

Giulia laughed, glancing at Elijah. She smiled, giving a delicate shrug. "One day. Perhaps." As Cara, dancing with Aljaž, was flipped and started laughing so richly they could hear her over the band, Giulia chuckled, smiling. She glanced up at Elijah, grinning. "She was dancing around in her underwear earlier, to the Rolling Stones. I would not have guessed the Renaissance. The Eighties, perhaps. She seems like she'd appreciate a good Lorelai Gilmore reference…"

"Cara has always been irrepressible, even in the 1490s, though of a different calibre," Elijah smiled warmly. His dark eyes followed Cara's movements on the dance-floor. "We never would we have envisioned a future like this. But she has come into her own the last half-century. She, and Chocolat too, they fit in this world. A few of us have trouble." His gaze lingered on Jacques, the toughened Crusader, who was drinking in a quiet, darkened corner.

"I think I can imagine," she said quietly. The world had to be very different now to what Jacques had experienced as a human.

"Alexia says you are a devoted History student," Elijah said curiously.

"Well, History is my passion. Literature, too," Giulia said, smiling sadly. Another reminder of home. "We have a large library at home, and my father didn't quite know what to do with a little-girl, so…" She sighed heavily, her smile disappearing entirely. As she watched Vera dance the waltz with another vampire, she canted her head to one side, observing Vera. "I can imagine Vera is from the Renaissance. Are she and Cara sisters?"

"Mm-hmm," Elijah nodded. "Turned by the same Original…they have spent centuries together, inseparable."

Giulia smiled. "That sounds…wonderful. And rather tragic—they aren't always on good terms, though?"

"Oh, no," Elijah said quickly. "They are known for their house-destroying fights." Giulia grimaced.

"Oh dear."

"Mm," Elijah hummed, his lips twitching. "They're still paying me back for the last rebuild. You would think they'd have learnt by now." Giulia chuckled, and a waiter appeared, bearing a tray, and Elijah smiled as he took two saucers of champagne, handing one to Giulia. "Here."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked playfully.

"I'm attempting to keep you drunk," Elijah corrected, and Giulia laughed. "You arrived after a house-party; you've kept up with Chocolat's margaritas and…whatever it is Aljaž puts in his concoctions." He gave her a taunting smile, his eyes glittering, and Giulia smiled, sipping her champagne.

"I might have to ply him for the recipe for those," she said, giving Elijah a sharp look that made him grin. He leaned closer, and when he rested his hand low on her bare back, she shivered with delicious awareness.

"Well, I hate to be dashing so many young girls' dreams, but I have it on good authority that I would stand a better chance of plying Aljaž than either your or Cara's best attempts," he murmured in her ear, and Giulia suppressed a shiver, taking a moment for what he was saying to catch up to her lust-infused brain.

"No," she frowned, turning to stare down at Aljaž. "No! Oh, that is not fair." She gave Elijah a playfully-seething look. "You could have let me live in ignorance."

"I do my part to even the playing-field," he said, smirking.

Giulia gave him a not-impressed look, and sipped her champagne. "Did you tell Ashlyn that Hogwarts isn't real, too?" Elijah laughed.

"Oh dear," he tutted. "Another fan." He leaned in to whisper, "Don't mention it to Cara; she's still bitter about Sirius."

"Well, who isn't?"

Elijah chuckled, his eyes flickering over her face, and then he sighed, smiling. "So the paso, the Charleston, the samba…are there no dances you are not familiar with?"

Giulia, grinning, chuckled and glanced at him sharply: "I can't do the jitterbug."

Elijah chuckled, before asking subtly, "What of the waltz?"

"I adore the waltz," Giulia admitted. She smiled, and sipped her champagne, and explained, when Elijah looked a little surprised. She licked her lips, tasting champagne, and observed that Elijah had watched the subtle swipe of her tongue. She resisted the urge to lick her lips again. "Ballroom is about trust, dignity, and respect. You can tell a lot by the way a man dances. How he holds you, where he leads… People who don't dance it don't realise how intimate it is. You have to commune."

"You like the waltz, the paso doble…" Elijah said thoughtfully. He didn't break eye-contact. And Giulia adored him for that. "One elegant, romantic; the other is fierce, full of passion, and power… Your samba was playful and flirtatious…" He paused, for a moment just blatantly sweeping his eyes over her features. When his eyes rested on hers again, he asked, "How do you like the tango?"

Giulia, her body alive with awareness, gave him a slow smile. She licked her lips, and said softly, "With the right person, it can be…exquisite."

A moment, and Elijah said, "Would you do me the honour of dancing a tango with me?"

Giulia smiled slowly. "It would be my pleasure…"

A.N.: Was it good for you? I was afflicted with the most tedious dilemma this afternoon: three hours without power. I had to light candles… However, my room is the cleanest it's been for months; and I went through all my old purses and shoes to give to charity, so…

For those of you who would like a visual representation of Elijah and Giulia's tango, look up Take the Lead tango on YouTube, with Antonio Banderas and a blonde—love it.