A.N.: A teaser, to whet your appetites!

Dangerous Beauty

37

A Private Affair

He sighed, and picked up the telephone, smiling to himself when he recognised the number.

"Twice in five years," he hummed playfully. "Are you getting fond of me?"

"You'll never guess who called me," a familiar voice said, and he sat back against his desk-chair, instantly focused, breathless. He gazed past the cheque-books and sleek MacBook Pro to the calendar on his leather-topped desk, his heart stopping. May, 2010. He gasped softly, his body shuddering as he remembered to breathe, his heart to kick-start with excitement. His hands shook, excitement firing through him.

"It was never her!" he whispered breathlessly.

"Would I tease you about this," his father said. He sat back in his chair, emotion flooding through him; his hands shook, his eyes burned. A thousand years. "Anything else, yes…"

"How did she sound?" he gasped softly, his voice breaking.

His father paused, and he waited for his answer, clutching the phone to his ear. "Young."

"Have you met her yet?" he asked, excited.

"No. And don't you dare do what I know you're thinking of doing!"

"But – a thousand years, Father!" he gasped, fidgeting. He had spent a thousand years having adventures, seeking knowledge and misbehaving with exquisite women. His heart thudded against his ribcage, too big; his blood bubbled with excitement so tangible he could taste it. "I – I just…I just want to see her."

"You know you can't make contact," his father said gently. "She won't know who you are."

"I just…I just need to see her. You know what will be going on now," he said.

"I do – that's why I'm warning you to stay away," his father said.

"I just…I want to see her again." He had his own secret, even from his twin-sister, with whom he had shared everything for a thousand years. Seventeen years ago he had hidden in the woods, watching over a walled-garden while a young-woman cooed over her dark-haired baby, crawling over a blanket and gurgling delightedly, beaming at her mother. He had been overcome with emotion, relieved and delighted; she was here. A thousand years, on that day, had seemed like no time at all.

He wanted to see her as a teenager. The ritual to reverse his grandmother's spell was going to occur soon; he wanted to be there to watch. To witness her rise from the ashes.

"Sasha, I'm asking you," Willem sighed. "Please don't do anything stupid… You put all of us in danger should Niklaus discover you… You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm booking a flight," Sasha said, eyes on his laptop-screen, smiling to himself; he heard his father chuckle softly at the other end, sighing. He had always claimed Sasha was a handful; when he set his mind to something, he did it.

All he wanted was to see her. But once would never be enough.

He couldn't resist staying away, not when she was so close. When everything was starting to happen. And when she finally learned it all…she would love it! The game, she'd whisper, smiling, her eyes glowing down at him as she showed him a hand-carved chess-piece, tucked safe in her lap. He could still feel the softness of her velvet gown, the lavender scent of her hair, cuddling him and Gisela, teaching them the game.

The queen was her favourite piece.

She could move anywhere.

He glanced across the room at the chess-board set under the window, a game in play, always, Gisela's last move frustrating him.

Once, she had said, "The whole world is in chess. Any move can be the death of you. Do anything except remain where you started and you can't be sure of your end."

She had never lost a game.

Her delight was something Elijah would strive for throughout eternity; when she was happy, it enveloped everyone else. She hid her unhappiness as best she could; but her joy was infectious. And it came from thoroughly confusing everyone. Rosemary and Caroline Forbes were the first to fall victim to the confusion created when they witnessed Elijah in the kitchen with Giulia, shirt-sleeves pushed up, up to his elbows in soap-suds, pushing open a window as Giulia wiped sweat from her brow, half-dressed in the sticky heat as she stirred heavy sauces, shelled boiled quails eggs, and despaired over the fate of her jellies and blancmanges in the rolling heat-wave, the sky a clear forget-me-not without a wisp of clouds, the open windows tempting a non-existent breeze. She was considering having them all dine in the chilly basement.

And she made him whistle while he worked, so she knew he wasn't sampling the fresh berries or candied pineapple rings.

Giulia had asked Elijah whether he felt comfortable to be around Rosemary; and she had asked Rose the same about him. He had killed her family; there was no making up for it. And the worst part was, it was expected of him; Rosemary and Trevor had been running from him for half a millennium, knowing that if he ever caught up with them, that would be their fate. They all came from a very different world; and Trevor had betrayed his trust.

There was little Elijah could do to change a reputation he had nurtured for a millennium. In this modern, gentler world, what was expected of him no longer fit. And he did not want to continue as the man everyone feared. But old wounds had festered, ancient vengeance had been meted, and, in his mind, the irritating situation with pretty Katerina was closed. He had killed Trevor, and was punishing Katerina; Giulia had ensured she would continue to be held captive to her will after he was gone, justice after five-hundred years of abhorrent, self-absorbed behaviour. Helping her become a better person without her realising it.

Elijah could not make up for killing her family; but he could offer her something to help her enjoy her next half-millennium in a different way to having her friend around. He had tasted Rose's fear the moment she had seen him cross the threshold into the Boarding House with Giulia, laden with flowers he had taken Giulia to pick out from the flower-market at dawn this morning.

"Rosemary," Elijah said politely, acknowledging her with a nod. "Good morning."

"Er…morning," Rose said, blinking, as Giulia eyed the threshold of the house, the foyer, with trepidation. He glanced back at Giulia, not wanting to push; she seemed to steel her nerves and stepped through the doorway, a reusable grocery-bag full of fruit, florists' wire, edible flowers, herbs and plain white taper candles in her arms. "Giulia?"

"Oh, hi, Rose," Giulia glanced up distractedly. "How's things?"

"Pretty good," Rose smiled gently. She eyed the flowers in Elijah's arms, wrapped in brown paper. "I heard today's the day."

"It is," Giulia nodded, glancing distractedly around.

"Well, I'm free for the day, if you need any help," Rose said, glancing uneasily at Elijah. Giulia glanced from her to Elijah, giving him a pointed look.

"These need to go in some water," he said, and Giulia stepped in his way.

"I'll do that," she said, with a bite. "You stay here. I know you're nervous. Just give it to her." Rose looked a little startled, and Elijah winced to himself as Giulia struggled down the corridor laden with more flowers and greenery and fruit than she could carry. Rosemary looked like a skittish rabbit ready to bolt – the hot sunshine prevented her from doing just that.

"So, you have settled here," Elijah said softly. "An interesting decision, to remain embroiled at the heart of Original business. One would have hoped you had learned."

"The Salvatores seemed like they needed some help," Rose said. "It was generous of Giulia to invite me to stay here."

"Mm," Elijah murmured noncommittally. He knew she hated this house as much as she loved it; and because of family obligation she could never get rid of it. But she had acknowledged that Damon was better-behaved for Rose living with them. They were similar in ways, but Rose wouldn't tolerate his behaviour. "And you plan to stay here? Of all the places in the world…"

"I've been to all the places in the world; I have no ties anywhere," Rose said gently. "Might as well choose a pretty place with people I like… And Giulia has ideas for doing something with this place that might prove interesting."

"I've heard," Elijah said; Giulia wanted a complete renovation of the old house, to turn it into something of use, something she could be proud of – something she could make an income from. He sighed, uncomfortable. "If you're going to stay, perhaps this can help you remain under the radar." He handed her a small box from his pocket, leaving her to open it alone.

He saw her basking in full sun on the veranda, face tilted to the sun, her spiky hair glowing like a halo, just sitting quietly, tears glittering on her pale cheeks. Later, he spotted her wandering through Giulia's beautifully-maintained walled gardens, smelling the open flowers she hadn't seen in bloom except in cut arrangements for centuries.

It was a private moment for Rosemary, and they left her to it.

It was…a lovely day. With the music playing – Giulia was at heart a vibrant acolyte of 1960s music, a decade completely unique in history – and the smells of the kitchen, their banter as they navigated each other to reach for whisks and basters and pastry-brushes, stealing kisses as they worked; he made her laugh, teasing her, pinching her bum as she stood at the stove, she flicked soap-bubbles at him from the sink, teasing and flirting enjoying their time together, cooking, dancing – it felt like any normal day at home with her. They just had the added amusement of Rosemary's confusion, watching them dancing a jive in the kitchen, bemused at their casual intimacy, the natural way they worked together. It was obvious they knew each other, had known each other far longer than anyone realised.

It was a strange phenomenon, to be able to enjoy Giulia in front of the people in her life. Until now she had been strictly against the idea of 'coming out', of telling even Caroline; she didn't want anyone else's opinion ruining how she felt about their relationship. He was the same way; and it made him uneasy that Giulia was happy for people to know, now that his brother was in town. She had hand-painted a target on her own back, practically standing out in an open meadow 'Yoohooing!' at Klaus: Elijah imagined that was exactly what she was doing. Drawing Klaus' attention from everyone else, for no-one was of more value to him to use to punish Elijah with than her. There was no way Giulia wouldn't use that to her advantage.

It was a shame, though, that she no longer truly cared enough about her friends' opinions to mind revealing her relationship to them. She could brush off whatever they said about her, confident enough in herself and in him, and reassured that, yes, they were together now; but they wouldn't always be. There was a safety in their uncertainty; whatever others could say, Giulia had already thought of and triumphed over it. And they could focus on enjoying each other, rather than worrying.

Giulia quoted Hagrid: "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does."

"Hey, hey, hey, I saw that, mister!" Giulia cried, and Elijah froze, grimacing guiltily. The airy Genoise sponge in his mouth seemed to turn to ash.

"You said if I helped you make the petit fours, I could sample whatever I liked!"

"No, I said if you helped make the petit fours, you could sample me," Giulia said, and Elijah eyed her, grinning with anticipation. He bit his lip, eyeing her up and down, licking fondant-icing off his thumb and drew her closer, taking a kiss, Rose raising her eyebrows and smirking in amusement behind them.

"Hi! I'm here! I'm ready to work!" a voice cried, and the bubbly Caroline Forbes bounded into the kitchen, blue eyes popping as Giulia leaned away from him, glancing over her shoulder.

"Hi, Caroline," she smiled. "Is it three o'clock already?"

"Yeah," Caroline said softly, staring at Elijah. "Um… I had the afternoon free, I thought…you wanted help."

"I do," Giulia scowled playfully at Elijah. "Keep this one from eating all the petit-fours."

"I am merely monitoring the quality of the cooking," Elijah said fairly. He smiled at Caroline, hyper-aware that he still had an arm around Giulia's waist as he extended a hand to her pretty blonde friend. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Caroline."

"Uh… Yeah, it's…nice to meet you, too," Caroline said quietly, glancing from him to Giulia. "Although, technically we met the night Tyler turned… Thank you, for that. We all really appreciate that you stayed with Tyler when we couldn't." Elijah nodded.

"You're quite welcome," he said, as Giulia, face sombre, leaned in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek, thanking him in her own way. Caroline watched them, not saying a word, trying to work it out. She gave them a brisk smile, though even Elijah could tell she was confused off-kilter.

"So…what do you need me to do?" Caroline asked, smiling brightly.

"Now that you're here, you can take over dessert duty," Giulia said, and Elijah's lips parted with disappointment.

"You're demoting me!"

"You've been a bad boy," Giulia said, clicking her tongue. "And you know wine; please could you go downstairs and pick out some bottles and decant them? You're the only one who knows the menu as well as I do."

"Very well," Elijah sighed, smiling.

"And a bottle of champagne!" Giulia added. "For dessert." She smiled, popped a tiny square of lemon-iced Genoise in his mouth, smacked his ass and sent him on his way. He chuckled, strolling off to the basement stairs.

Giulia watched him go, distracted as she sucked the lemon icing off her thumb, sighing over the cut of his pants, and how fresh he looked; she was melting. Hair piled up, no makeup on because it would just melt off in the heat and the steam, sweating through her clothes, the ovens humming each burner on the stove on, the sink steaming with fresh soapy water, the windows thrown open to catch a breeze; she was going to revisit the air-conditioning when she planned the renovation. Stefan, Rose and Elena didn't need it; but she did.

"So…what am I doing?" Caroline asked, whipping out a little notepad. "I can make a list. Tell me everything you need doing and we'll figure out what you've missed. Have you written out place-cards? And are you sure of your guest-list? John Gilbert seems an odd choice but I'm not gonna question it. And do you have canapés and drinks to serve the guests while they all start to arrive?"

"Whoa," Giulia laughed softly, holding her hands up in surrender. "Colonel Caroline, it's okay, take a breath. Have you had a snack since lunch?"

"I haven't, I'm a little jittery," Caroline admitted; that wasn't all it was, though, Giulia knew. She knew Caroline too well – the excessive enthusiasm, the list-making. She could tell Caroline desperately wanted to say something, but didn't know what to ask.

So while Car churned over her confusion, Giulia set her to work: Caroline always enjoyed the fiddly kind of work that went into perfecting delicate, imperfect petit-fours. Caroline was such a perfectionist she was ideal to have as her lieutenant; Giulia knew she could be counted on to spot things she had missed because she had so much to organise.

"So, all of the dishes are going to be set on the table at the same time, all of the desserts along the centre," Giulia said, showing Caroline the dining-room. It was what Giulia called the 'China Room', and the prettiest room in the Boarding House. It was a large, airy room devoted to Chinoiserie-inspired Art Nouveau-style, duck-egg blues, greens, cream, red and gilt, a stunning marble fireplace, polished rosewood furniture, a beautiful carpet, and an exquisite original French baroque desk, gilt, inlaid, with candlestick-holders and a built-in clock. Elijah said he hadn't seen craftsmanship like it in centuries, almost weak at the knees when he had first glimpsed it, just like the priceless chandelier. The polished rosewood table was laden with Giulia's finest nineteenth-century crystal glasses, one set blue, the others clear, very delicately etched; she had her best silver-gilt cutlery and a full service of exquisite Staffordshire Minton crockery with elaborately-garlanded turquoise and yellow gilt trim, openwork on some of the pieces, and a set of extraordinary hand-painted ceramic and crystal dessert-stands made to look like her ancestors' favourite flowers. It was Giulia's opportunity to enjoy her inherited antiques, in a way few did unless they were hosting an incredibly elaborate wedding with no thought to broken china and stolen silverware. The very last Contessa di Salvatore had brought an exquisite surtout de table as part of her dowry to her marriage, made of etched crystal, silver-gilt and silvered-mirrored glass with sinuous figures of the Greek gods, flowers symbolic to the original commissioner and delicate renderings of the Salvatore crest and Florentine fiordaliso. Elijah had told her a complete set like hers belonged in a museum; it dated back to the eighteenth-century.

Giulia doubted any of the crockery, delicate glassware or the silver-set had been used in the last century. And it was a shame – it was exquisitely beautiful.

"Rose–!" Caroline blurted in alarm, watching Rose set a large silver magnolia vase – a wedding-gift to Damon's wife Alice Salvatore in 1862 – on the server, overflowing with a natural arrangement of hollyhocks, peachy-pink snapdragons, fuchsia China asters, magnolias and honeysuckle, herbs and greenery, sweet-peas and roses. The sun beamed down on Rose from one of the high windows without shutters. "You're – not burning!"

The older woman glanced over her shoulder, smiling gently and dusting off her hands. She looked pretty – she always looked pretty! – in an olive-green top and dark jeans, but her face showed evidence that she had been crying. After losing Trevor, her world had been turned upside-down; now it had again, with Elijah's simple, life-altering gift.

"I, uh… Elijah gave me a daylight-ring," Rose said uncertainly, still smiling, as she gazed past an excited Caroline to Giulia, a question in her eyes, smiling.

"Wait, Elijah did?" Caroline blurted, confused, and Rose nodded, showing Caroline the understated band on her finger. Caroline blinked, glanced subtly at Giulia, and gave Rose a hug of congratulations. Rose had been a slave to shadows for half a millennium; and old habits would break hard. "Oh. So… So, you're helping too?"

"Why not?" Rose smiled. "There's still quite a bit to do. Giulia, you said you wanted the copper moulds arranged with your research on here…" Giulia glanced up from the small centrepiece she was adjusting on the table, overflowing with white sweet-peas, honeysuckle, lily-of-the-valley and white dog-roses.

"Yes, I will – grab that from the car," Giulia said, wiping her hands on her apron and darting, barefoot, out the front-door to Elijah's sleek little BMW, retrieving a cardboard box full of her things from the trunk. The invitation to the original dinner, framed, as well as the fully-restored pastel painting commemorating the dinner and its guests; the letters, diaries and recipes she had used to piece her project together, as well as a bound copy of her dissertation on upper-class cuisine in the Confederate States before and during the Civil War.

Her research was doctorate-level; but she was interested. She had referenced Mystic Falls, Atlanta and New Orleans, displaying the cultural and socio-economic differences in upper-class cuisine dependent on geography and the source of income – agriculture, industry, slavery – and the obvious difficulties of wartime. In 1860 the Lockwood family had treated their dinner-guests to candied pineapple, pomegranates, fresh oysters and a rum punch she and Elijah had sampled last night after some direction from Kol, telling them how to properly prepare it. The flavour had taken Elijah back; crowded ballrooms and crinolines, the antique waltz. He had taught Giulia the steps; she loved dancing with him.

She had also illustrated a table-layout with all of the dishes she had recreated, labelled, so guests would know what they were going to be eating, and it stood propped on a stand beside the vase of flowers. Following her illustrations on how each of the dishes were to be decorated, Caroline and Rose were left in charge of the table and decorations.

Giulia had never in her life seen the China Room used for a dinner-party. Other than the library, it was the only room Giulia wanted to preserve when she renovated the house. She had kept the shutters closed and the air on higher than usual to preserve the blancmanges and jellies, the halved peaches poached in Marsala, cinnamon and vanilla, served cold with cream, and the fickle strawberry Charlotte cake she had had to remake three times because of leakages.

"I just want to make sure nothing melts in the time it takes to put the hot savoury courses on the table when people start arriving," Giulia said.

"I can't believe they managed to keep things cool in 1860," Caroline said. "I mean, I don't feel it but the girls are dying in this heat."

"And you're fresh as a daisy," Giulia grumbled, plucking her t-shirt away from her, aware she was disgusting.

"You've really not skimped on anything," Caroline said approvingly, gazing at the exquisite table-setting, the etched-crystal glasses, the silver-gilt cutlery, Giulia's beautiful dinner service and the surtout de table.

"I know; I went full-on Caroline Forbes," Giulia smiled. "I've done some illustrations of what the dishes should look like…if I start turning out the blancmanges and jellies, would you mind decorating the plates? And arranging the petit-fours and chocolates and sugared-pastilles and bonbons on these two towers."

"Oh my god, they're gorgeous," Caroline sighed, peering closely at the matching epergne towers Giulia had inherited, foot-and-a-half-high climbing vines of gold, tiered leaves for holding dainty treats, and exquisite, dangling honeysuckle blossoms in gold, red-gold and silver that trembled with every vibration.

"They belonged to the last Contessa di Salvatore," Giulia told her softly, eyeing the extraordinary honeysuckles. "All of the centrepieces were hers, she was ridiculously wealthy."

"She wasn't like an American princess, was she?"

"No, no, this was way before it was fashionable to sell your daughters to European nobility," Giulia told her. "Eighteenth century, pre-Marie-Antoinette, Caroline-Matilda kind of time."

"Wow," Caroline said softly. "So these are like priceless – why the hell are we using them?!"

"Because they were made to be seen, and used, and lusted after," Giulia said, smiling fondly. She had spent her childhood poring over the contents of the library, listening to Stefan's 1960s vinyl collection, building trebuchets in the walled-gardens and watching the sunlight glimmer off the built-in cabinets full of her ancestors' most precious belongings, those too exquisite to hide away.

"Well, just so you know, when you die those honeysuckle tiers are the first thing I'm taking," Caroline said, arms folded over her chest as she observed the partially put-together table spread.

"Really? Not my jewellery?"

"What jewellery?"

"Hm?" Giulia blinked at her innocently. "So, I'm going to leave you in charge. The skewers with the crayfish and truffles and olives are for the savoury pies, here are the drawings and I've set aside more berries and flowers and herbs for decorating the other dishes, feel free to use what's on the server. Elijah…? There you are. If you need more decanters there are some in the butler's pantry."

"Okay. And you're sure you have the guest-list finalised?" Caroline asked.

"Not finalised; I heard rumblings from the Lockwood house," Giulia admitted, glancing at Elijah, who had been there last night when Mason called to tell Giulia that he and Tyler, between them, had decided to tell Carol. It seemed like a lot of people were coming out this week. "I may have extra guests, or Mason and Tyler won't show up and we're all in danger of the Sheriff's supernatural squad storming the house."

"Oh."

"So the entertainment for the evening is already arranged," Giulia said lightly, not letting on about the real fireworks that would go off later this evening.

"Something to look forward to," Caroline blinked. "And I thought tonight would be devoted to eating food I've never even heard of, drinking too much and passing out in one of the spare bedrooms with my mom because we can't move let alone drive home."

"I changed the sheets for you," Giulia said, and Elijah smiled to himself as he set several bottles down on the server.

"Well – I have work to do, and you need to get back to the kitchen," Caroline scolded happily. Giulia pointed her to the plastic tubs of edible flowers, bundles of fresh herbs, delicate ferns, redcurrants, fresh strawberries, cherries and the skewers for the savoury pies, and asked her to make sure the antique salt and pepper cellars were placed around the table with delicate jugs of floral fruit cordials and fresh homemade lemonade for the underage guests. Giulia had already turned out and decorated the less-fickle dishes; the rhubarb tart, the brand-snaps, white meringue kisses, mini lemon-cakes topped with crystallised primroses, the fresh cherries, peaches and pomegranates in the larger crystal basket on the top of the highest centrepiece overflowing with flowers and candles and delicate cakes and fresh berries.

"Did you find enough wine to suit the dinner?" Giulia asked. It wasn't a full silver-service dinner, guests weren't poured a fresh glass of wine with each new course; Giulia hoped decanting a few bottles of the most delicious wines to match some of the dishes would be enough. Had this been a true dinner from the 1860s servants would have removed the used plates, a fresh glass of wine for each course; a different wine for the soup, fish course, the meat, poultry, sherry to go with the salad, champagne for dessert – but it wasn't, and Giulia didn't have staff.

"Unless you've invited Spencer Tracey, you needn't worry the dinner will run dry," Elijah assured her, smiling warmly. "I've put several bottles of Dom in the refrigerator."

"Excellent, thank you!" Giulia smiled, as one of her timers went off on her phone, "I'm on the sauce!" darting back to the kitchen to stir and taste a savoury white sauce for the two whole sea-bass she had ready to roast with chopped fennel, yellow cherry-tomatoes on the vine, lemon slices and olives. She seasoned it lightly and turned to the soup, a white soup – white asparagus. She'd had to contact a local farm especially. Very expensive. And possibly one of her favourite soups ever.

Giulia stayed in the kitchen, assembling the decorations for the serving-platters for the main courses, checking the rose syrup had chilled to pour around a plain white blancmange, checking on her main courses in the oven, preparing the new potatoes, fresh peas, green beans and stuffed tomatoes for cooking at the last minute, the spinach to wilt and decorate with boiled eggs, assembling some of the salads, the exotic chicken and rice dish with dried apricots and blanched almonds, and finally cloistering herself with high relief in the chilly larder to unmould the last of the blancmanges – decorating them with the prettiest peach and pink roses, the most perfect pink camellia, white-currants and raspberries and plum slices, borage flowers and violets, and several particularly stunning jellies – one using Alice Salvatore's cameo mould, the other a duo-layered blancmange and elderflower ring jelly with primroses and whole baby strawberries inside. She tried not to look at her watch, her guests weren't expected until 7:30 p.m., but she wanted everything finished and ready before she went to get showered and dressed.

"Do you need any help?" Elijah asked, glancing across the room after gently setting the stopper in the last decanter, placing it delicately on the table; Giulia had a specific table layout sketched out for them to follow. Rose had disappeared to help Giulia upturn moulds onto serving-stands.

"Um… I think I'm good," Caroline said thoughtfully, using a paper-towel to clean the beautiful plate she had been decorating with delicate ferns, lavender and calendulas. A perfectionist, as Giulia had once told him; Caroline paid attention to every detail. "I don't know – I mean, you were around during the Victorian time, is this okay?"

"This…is exceptional," Elijah smiled. Giulia had planned it all to the last redcurrant, the last handmade bonbon and era-appropriate chocolate, the little crystal dish of sticky preserved stem-ginger, of course it was exquisite. Everything looked beautiful, a feast for the senses. He smiled at Caroline, whom he knew had forgotten his presence while she was focused on her task but now stood, uncomfortable and confused, probably a little bit hurt, too, but pushing it aside because it was Giulia's evening and she needed her best-friend's help to pull it off. "You truly do have a mind for the details, just as Giulia said." Caroline's fair eyebrows drew together minutely.

"Giulia…talked to you about me?"

"Of course," Elijah said softly, guessing where Caroline's mind was going behind those widened flawless-blue eyes, and wanting to set her at ease. He sighed softly, arranging another decanter on the table; Caroline leaned in to help rearrange some of the herbs and greenery decorating the edge of the mirrored surtout de table. "You're her best-friend. She loves you more than she does anyone else in this world… The night she called, telling me you had been murdered by Katerina… I never want to hear her voice sound like that again; I've never heard someone so broken."

"She cried," Caroline murmured, barely moving her lips, glancing at him, her eyes dancing away. "I've never seen Giulia cry before then, not ever."

Elijah smiled sadly. "I'm not surprised. It takes trust to break down the way Giulia has in front of you, the night your friend turned into a werewolf for the first time." Her terror and grief over what the werewolves had done to her – that was a different matter entirely; that had been done to her, not the people she loved.

"She didn't cry, even at her dad's funeral," Caroline said softly, glancing over her shoulder, frowning toward the kitchen, where they could both hear Giulia singing along absently to The Kinks as she clattered around, stirring things, unmoulding jellies, pouring sauces. Caroline glanced back at Elijah, frowning, curiosity, almost accusation in her clear blue eyes. "I'm worried about her."

"So am I," Elijah admitted on a sigh. She was starting to recover – nothing between them was ever anything but intense, soul-consuming, and that included the way they helped each other heal. But she hadn't told anyone beyond those who had witnessed the state of her after the werewolves had been interrupted by him. She hadn't told Caroline – she couldn't put into words how she felt about being tortured; she had willingly endured it because it was best, to ensure the safety of the moonstone, the safety of their plan. And Giulia would rather she be tortured than anyone she loved, despite how limited that list was shrinking. Especially because it was futile; she had taken magical precautions to ensure that even an Original could not persuade her to part with the secret. No matter what Niklaus did to her or the people she loved, Giulia alone could decide when – or whether at all – to unveil the moonstone. "She cannot settle; even Firenze doesn't seem to soothe her, neither to hot baths, and she won't sleep."

"I'm sorry – sleep?!" Caroline blurted, holding up a finger. For an instant, it was staggering how much pretty Caroline Forbes resembled a lioness. "Just so I can clear up some confusion, you are the Elijah that Damon speared to a door, right? The Elijah who killed Rose's friend and the three vampires who wanted to take Elena to Klaus, the Elijah who wants to use Elena to draw Klaus to town so you can kill him."

"Actually, I only killed one of the vampires who wanted to take Elena," Elijah clarified. "But, yes. I am all those things."

"Okay," Caroline said abruptly, turning back to fuss with the name-cards on the table. He observed that Giulia had written out name-cards for Elena Gilbert and Stefan Salvatore, neither of whom she had invited. Foresight, he sighed softly. Giulia lived and would die for Caroline; it was important to him that…Caroline not fear him.

"Before I was all of those things, I was Giulia's friend," Elijah said quietly. "We met long before Trevor and Rosemary conspired to kidnap your friend." Caroline's clear blue eyes lanced to him, frowning.

"Really?"

"I…know how this looks, we both do," Elijah said softly. He did know it, and it was just one of the reasons why he and Giulia had kept their relationship so utterly private. "Please know that Giulia and I met long before I heard of your friend Elena's existence. Elena has never been my target… Please don't believe I went after Giulia as some…machination against you and your friends; and please don't be upset Giulia didn't tell you about…us. We both had our reasons for wanting our relationship to remain private…unspoiled."

"Giulia doesn't talk about her relationship drama," Caroline sighed softly. "She didn't even tell us she'd lost her virginity until like weeks after – I was so annoyed she had sex before any of us, she so wasn't the type." Elijah had to laugh at that; Giulia was the most sexual person he had ever met. A delicious stroke for his ego, perhaps he had brought that out in her; she brought out his affection, she relaxed him, gentled the uptight properness he had developed over the last couple of centuries, tapped into his repressed sexuality in a way that overwhelmed, even frightened him, shaken by the ferocity of his desire for her, his yearning for her, the desolation he felt every time his mind tortured him with visions of a future without her in it. "Um – but I probably shouldn't have told you about that, and – it's just – this is weird, right?"

"Yes," he agreed, with a sweet smile. He glanced at Caroline. Giulia was an enigmatic person, but she had told him so much about Caroline he felt he knew her already. And if Giulia loved her, he wanted to know her. "So, how are you dealing with everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Being turned into a vampire," he said. "It has been a very long time since I had to make the adjustment; I cannot say I handled it as well as Giulia tells me you have."

"It's been okay, I guess; I mean, for a while I was so, so terrified of my mom finding out," Caroline said. "And then she did, and…we've just kind of dealt with it, y'know? I mean, I…I did kill someone. But – I'm not like Stefan and Damon, I don't…I guess I don't flaunt being a vampire, it's not…it's not who I am. I just – have to drink blood sometimes, but it's not my whole life. And I really don't like going to frat-parties to feed, it's annoying, they're so handsy – and there's no way I'm eating bunnies – I just stick to blood-bags. I mean, this is the twenty-first century, there's absolutely no reason to behave like Neanderthals."

"Certainly not," Elijah smiled softly to himself. There were some people who suited being a vampire; and some…who took it to its darkest place, excusing what they did with what they were. Caroline was the former; her transition had not affected her personality so much as brought it into greater focus, polishing her finest traits, allowing her to shed her insecurities. According to Giulia, Caroline was gentler and braver for her transformation, self-assured. "Well, it is a relief to meet a new vampire not in thrall to the possibilities of her new powers."

"Well, Giulia had me get all that out of my system very early on," Caroline admitted, smiling. "We spent the weekend in New York, letting me figure things out."

"I've heard," Elijah said softly.

"Wait a minute – New York," Caroline blurted, glancing down at her hand. She stared at him with wide blue eyes. "It – you're the guy who gave Giulia all that jewellery for me to pick from, aren't you? You…you made sure I got a daylight ring."

"There's no reason that vampirism should deprive you of having a life," Elijah said softly.

"Yeah," Caroline sighed softly. She glanced at Elijah, looking confused. "Thank you. For the ring, I mean. I really…appreciate it."

"I know," Elijah smiled gently. Caroline's features gentled; she looked like she wanted to ask him something. "What is on your mind?"

"I – she's been odd lately, like – more than usual," Caroline said, wincing as she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen. "She looks like death and she's jumpy all the time. And you said being with her isn't anything to do with the sacrifice but I'm wondering if being with you is why she's so…afraid."

"No. I am not the reason she is struggling," Elijah said sadly. It hurt that Caroline would ask that; but why shouldn't she? This was the danger in keeping their relationship secret; he and Giulia would now have to face her friends' accusations and paranoia, their confusion and feelings of betrayal and disdain.

"She looked happy with you, earlier…in the kitchen," Caroline said softly, fiddling with a name-card, rearranging a peachy-pink snapdragon trimming a dainty individual blancmange. "Even doing all this, today is the most relaxed I've seen her in days."

Elijah frowned toward the kitchen, thinking things over quickly. "Caroline…if I tell you something…please ensure it does not get back to Giulia that I told you… I feel you should know, in the event I am no longer around to…to keep an eye on her…"

"What?" Caroline asked softly.

"You know that the other night, Mason Lockwood killed the alpha of the werewolf pack that came to town…"

"The guy who tortured me, yeah, I know," Caroline clenched her jaw, crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

"Damon and Stefan assumed I had killed the other wolves or run them out of town, when Mason returned to their camp and found it empty," Elijah said, glancing at the corridor, keeping an ear out for any approach from Giulia. "This was not the case. While the werewolf was stalking Elena and Stefan at her family's lake-house, Jules and the others were here…"

He told her. Whether it was the right thing to do, whether it was overloading Caroline with too many truths she wasn't prepared to hear, whether Giulia would thank him for it or not, he told her. He needed to make sure someone who loved Giulia as much as he did knew, knew what had happened to her, why she was struggling; he needed to know someone would understand, to be able to look out for her when he was gone. It was a terrible thing she had endured; and he hadn't dared ask whether she wanted him to erase the memory through compulsion, knowing her answer. She refused vampire-blood to heal to remind her of her own vulnerabilities – and oddly, to showcase her strengths. Her greatest strength was her intellect; she would never risk anyone toying with that, her greatest weapon. She trusted Elijah with her body, she was in love with him, just as he was with her, and he trusted her implicitly, so brilliant, so courageous and unselfish; he trusted her entirely to do what was necessary to reunite his family. He hadn't told her that yet; that conversation was brewing. But he just…needed to know someone could see how extraordinary Giulia was, truly appreciated her rarity, and would protect her with their life, just as she would theirs; too often recently, that had been taken for granted.

"They hurt her," Caroline whispered. Her expression was stricken, heartbroken.

"She was in unendurable pain…for a very long time," Elijah told her unapologetically, as Caroline pushed tears from her cheeks.

"Why – why didn't she tell me?" her voice broke.

"She hasn't said a word about it, not even to me," Elijah said softly. "And I found her. She is suffering. Post-traumatic stress is one of the worst kinds of injuries, it is so unpredictable, debilitating. There is no cure, only…management of the side-effects."

"But she's – she's okay?"

"Sheila Bennett used magic to heal her; I knew she would never accept vampire-blood, there is too much risk, and she has her own reasons I respect," Elijah said quietly. "I… I am not telling you this so you will shame the others, as they deserve to be shamed, for not protecting her… I am telling you this, so that you know why she is the way she is; when things start to escalate, if she deteriorates and I am not there… You'll look after her?"

Caroline's eyes were wide, forget-me-not blue and shining with tears. "Of course I will… But how can I look after her when I never know anything's wrong? I didn't have a clue about – you… She doesn't…let me in."

"I believed she learned from her father's example how to be self-reliant," Elijah said softly. He wished he could have met Zachary Salvatore; if the woman he had raised his daughter to be was any indication of his own character, he had been quite a man. "That is not a reflection on you, Caroline; she has learned not to burden others with her problems. Giulia is the protector."

"She…she always had to look after me," Caroline said, her voice so small, her features forlorn.

"She loves you," Elijah assured her gently. "It is not a chore." Caroline raised her hands, hiding her features behind her fingers, tips pressed to her hairline to avoid touching her face, ruining her pretty makeup.

"But I'm not – I'm not girly little Caroline anymore!" she blurted in frustration, upset. "I – I should be able to protect her now, too. I'm – I'm strong. And I love her. And now I'm afraid for her. You – you've really been together for...before anyone had even heard of the Sun and Moon Curse?"

"We met on the first of November," Elijah said quietly. Caroline's features smoothed out in realisation; the Lost Weekend that Giulia had so often referred to, the friends she had made, the party she had survived, the weekend after Vicki Donovan had been killed in this very house at a Halloween party, Giulia still reeling from the murder of her father in the cellar.

"You've…known each other that long?" Caroline said softly, looking heartbroken. "You know about her dad?"

"Giulia makes me wish I had known Zachary Salvatore," Elijah said honestly. An exceptional father, and a soldier, a Marine, who held the safety of his community, his home, above his own; yes, he wished he had known the steadier brother of the notorious Joshua Salvatore he had only ever known by reputation.

"I miss him," Caroline said softly. "My mom's just…been so upset since he was killed. He was her best-friend. And Giulia will…never recover from it. He was all she had; he loved her more than anything or anyone. Even her mom. He had Giulia longer." It was plainly-spoken, but a girl who didn't even realise how young she still was. The innocence of her observation was heart-breaking. Elijah glanced at Caroline, his heart throbbing: he could say the same of Gyda, of Torvi. He had spent twenty years with Torvi as his partner in all things; but he had loved Gyda for a thousand years. There was nothing that compared to a father's love for his daughter. And nothing that felt as wonderful as a daughter's love for her father. And Elijah knew Zach Salvatore had been a great father; Giulia missed him too much. She would never forget her loss, either. "My concern is what certain people will say to Giulia about…me."

"Because she's sleeping with the enemy?" Caroline blurted, then blushed. Elijah gave her an enigmatic smile. "Look, if Giulia's with you, then… I guess there's more to the story than just what Stefan and Damon have told us. Although don't think I approve of this, whatever it is. I mean, you killed Rose's friend but you haven't hurt anyone else – I mean, except that Slater guy."

"Mm. And Giulia is still annoyed with me about that," Elijah said. He knew perfectly well that Giulia had retrieved Slater's system from the ether of the internet, and was using it. He'd prefer she had access than anyone else. He glanced at Caroline. "An acquaintance of hers from the university." Caroline rolled her eyes.

"You know, it is possible to deal with your problems without killing people!" she huffed. He shrugged.

"That's what Giulia says; you can't bring them back," he sighed, adding, "Usually."

"So…you're…like together?" Caroline frowned at him; he gave her another enigmatic look.

"We are what we are," he said softly. There was no easier way to explain it. "We have…so far tried to keep everything as separate as possible, our relationship, and the ritual."

"So, are you working together?" Caroline asked.

"For a little while we enjoyed working against each other," Elijah smiled privately. "Recently, however...my aims have shifted as new information came to light. Giulia has a certain vision of what this sacrifice could mean…there are things she sees that I can't." Giulia proved not only her incredible foresight but her insight as well, anticipating how the sacrifice would affect people's lives and how they would react. "To her own ends Giulia has worked both with and against me, and for and behind the backs of Stefan and Damon; know that whatever she has done without any of your knowledge, she has done so for you. For all of us." Truth be told, he didn't believe Giulia truly even thought about her old friend's part in the sacrifice; she had ensured Elena's safety and was now focused on the forest, not the trees. Elijah didn't have to ask to know Giulia was thinking about his family, her friends, and the benefits and drawbacks of allowing Klaus to live, versus ending his life. He knew her position on his ability to kill his own brother; a thousand years was far too long, too much history. And Elijah was not his brother. Giulia had posed him an interesting hypothesis: that lifting the spell may be everything Niklaus had not anticipated. It may very well be his undoing.

She knew something he didn't, he was sure; she had seen something in his memories that he had not, a thousand years of looking at things the same way. Fresh perspective had given Giulia an advantage over him; she guessed what he had been afraid to think, that Willem was Rollo's firstborn son by Esther, shared his werewolf heritage and had hidden his nature from them.

Elijah could understand why Willem would conceal himself from Niklaus, whose anger over the curse had grown, warped, over the centuries. Niklaus was a petulant, jealous man, he always had been; combined with his narcissism and paranoia, he would perceive Willem as everything he believed he deserved. And he would punish Willem for it.

"Just know, there is more at stake than your friend's life," he said quietly, glancing over at Caroline.

"Oh, I know that," Caroline said. "I know Klaus would have to sacrifice a vampire and a werewolf as well as the doppelgänger."

"It…goes beyond that," Elijah said. "There are things Giulia understands which…I do not wish to share with others. Let us just say they affect how I will approach dealing with Klaus."

"Rose says you're Santa compare to Klaus," Caroline said, and Elijah laughed.

"We all have our qualities," he said softly. "My brother has always been a handful; he works hard to maintain his reputation."

"Your – Klaus is your brother?!" Caroline blurted, her mind spinning.

"Mm. So you see, there is more to this than your friends realise," Elijah said.

"And Giulia's helping you," Caroline said; Elijah thought about that.

"Yes," he said slowly. He believed Giulia was willing to do more to help him than anyone else had ever dared; she knew his darkest memories, she knew what haunted him, how his heart was broken. Not killing Klaus was part of her plan; in doing so, she was manoeuvring to mend Elijah's heart.

"She doesn't think we should try and kill Klaus," Caroline said.

"Do you?"

"Not really," Caroline said, with a sigh. "I mean, If Elena wasn't my friend, I wouldn't want to be involved in any of this." She gave a brisk sigh. "But she is, so here were are; and I'm sure there's more than one way to deal with the situation."

"I think Giulia would prefer that you weren't involved regardless," Elijah said. He smiled at the irony. "She says you keep her human; I honestly dread what she would be capable of should anything truly irrevocable happen to you."

"Well, I'm fine," Caroline declared. "And I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself!" After a lifetime, it would be difficult for Giulia to break the habit. Especially when, contradictory to what Caroline said, Giulia still had to look after them all.

The gorgeous Persian-style carriage-clock on the mantelpiece chimed on the half-hour, and Elijah checked his watch. He left Caroline to fuss, channelling her frustration and confusion through excessive tidying, and found Rose in the kitchen with a melting Giulia.

"It's half-past five," he told Giulia. "What do you need me to do?"

"Unless I've forgotten something very important, it's actually all under control," Giulia said. "I'll check my list." She found her notebook, and started counting off everything. Expecting to eat at eight p.m., Giulia had an opening to get showered and ready for the evening before the last things had to be cooked. Everything that could be prepared beforehand had been; what couldn't yet be cooked was ready and waiting.

While Giulia disappeared to her old bedroom, Elijah did what he could to organise the last of the mess Giulia hadn't managed to wash and put away, Rose on the end of a dishtowel, rearranging everything where she had learned things lived during her time at the Boarding House. Caroline flitted around the great room, plumping pillows, dusting lampshades, quickly vacuuming the carpet.

"Caroline, stop fussing," Rose told her, strolling past. "Go and get ready. Your dress is in the blue-room."

"I'm just making sure everything's tidy!"

"The house will be what it'll be; there's no telling Damon won't bring a harem of sorority-girls home for the evening's entertainment," Rose told her. "Go and get dressed." Elijah set the last few candles in place, checked there were enough goblets for the rum-punch, and strolled upstairs seeking Giulia; he had never been upstairs before, and found her old bedroom perfectly suited to her old tastes. He found her in the adjoining bathroom.

"You look ravishing," he sighed, smiling at her. Towel wrapped around her, moisturising her legs, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, wet hair stuck down her back.

She leaned over, spitting out her toothpaste. "Well, you're not with me for my looks."

"Well, not entirely," he sighed, giving her towel a pointed look, as he unbuttoned his shirt, stepping out of his unlaced shoes. His change of clothing had been draped on Giulia's old double-bed. She arched a dark eyebrow and smirked, letting the fluffy fabric fall from her as she stood, preening. He groaned, letting his pants fall to the floor, and crept up behind her, encircling her waist in his arms, drawing her warm, fragrant body flush against his. "It's a shame you didn't wait for me before you showered." She gave him a sweet smile in the mirror as he pressed tiny kisses and little nips along her ear, making her shiver and squirm in his arms. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, giving her a little nip, playfully slapped her ass and slipped into the walk-in shower, the same hot-water Giulia had eschewed in favour of cold to cool down soothing him, and he faced the spray, enjoying the hot water sluicing over him.

"Hey, Giulia, do you some prod– Oh. My. God!" Caroline's voice blurted, and Elijah raised his eyebrows, glancing over his shoulder as a tumble of blonde curls whipped around the open doorway. He heard a cried, "I'm so sorry!" and chuckled richly to himself, rinsing lather from his body and posturing for the benefit of Giulia, who was laughing her head off and lusting after him, sudsy and wet.

"It really is a shame I didn't wait for you to shower," she said, and Elijah laughed as he stepped out of the shower, accepting the towel Giulia handed to him, wrapping it swiftly around his waist. "Can you imagine her reaction to that?!"

"Behave," he smirked gently, opening his shaving-case. Giulia shook her head, leaning in to give his jaw an affectionate nip.

"Elijah?" she wheedled gently, gazing through her fine long lashes at him.

"What do you want?" he asked, smirking.

"Would you mind blow-drying my hair?" she asked. He smiled, rolled his eyes, and while Giulia applied her makeup and shimmied into fresh little black Brazilian panties and a black lacy bra, he gave himself a close shave with his straight-razor and Victoire's homemade organic lather. He pulled on fresh pants and a tailored charcoal-purple shirt, leaving the top button undone, polishing his shoes, and found Giulia's hairdryer and barrel-brush, fending her off from plastering kisses over his freshly-shaven cheeks. She couldn't resist him first thing in the morning after a hot shave, just as he could barely walk from lust when she'd had a fresh wax.

Blow-drying a lady's hair was a skill he had acquired through necessity; Ashlyn had always had long hair and as a little girl she would only be good for him after bath-time. She had adored spending time with him, and he didn't pull her hair the way impatient Carafina used to, wanting to get the job done as quickly as possible. Neither of them had enjoyed it. But little Ashlyn used to stand between his knees, sat on the edge of her bed, and blow-dry her hair. A story, and she would be fast-asleep, silky golden-blonde hair haloed around her.

Immediately after the werewolves had tortured her, he had had to rescue from a glacial shower after she had sat under the scalding hot-water until the tank ran empty. Catatonic, he had dried her down with a towel, slipped a nightdress over her head, and perched her on the edge of the bed between his knees with a hair-dryer. She had rested her hand on his knee, the only movement she had made without coaxing from him, and trembled. She'd still been trembling after he finished drying her hair, and had had to slip a hand between her thighs to coax her to relax, gently guiding her into bed.

Now, Giulia sat between his knees on the edge of the bed, and the little minx kept trailing her fingers along the insides of his thighs, smirking to herself. She got bold and cupped a handful, sighing, and he resisted the urge to rumple everything by tossing aside the hair-dryer, flinging her to her back and giving her a good seeing-to. He popped the handle of her hairbrush in his mouth, reached around and gave her pierced nipple a nasty pinch to make her behave; she only squirmed against him, and he heaved a long-suffering sigh, finishing the job. Her fragrant hair fell past her shoulders in relaxed, natural waves. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling warmly at him.

"Thank you," she said, twisting around to give him a gentle kiss. Her features softened, saddened, and she swallowed. "Thank you for being here tonight."

He smiled, stroked her chin affectionately, and leaned in for a kiss. "You know…we have a few minutes until you need to be downstairs."

"A few minutes?"

"Didn't you know, I'm a vampire? I'm very fast."

"Prove it."

A.N.: I know, I know, not much happened this chapter, I'm irritated with it a bit, I thought I'd get the whole dinner scene out of the way in one go. Not to be, but oh, well! If you're curious about the things that inspired the dishes Giulia's made, I've posted a load of pictures on my Pinterest board '2. GS Dangerous Beauty'. The next chapter will be the dinner, I promise!