A.N.: There's going to be a little food-porn in here for you; it's Christmas day in the world of TVD.

Drunken Binges, Funerals and Formals

52

Christmas

She had vowed to herself that in the New Year, she would make some changes. By the vampire calendar, the New Year was the night of the winter solstice; it had fallen on 21st December, and in the run-up to Christmas Day, Giulia had spent as much time mentally preparing herself for the changes as she could. Despite the conclusion of the solstice gala, Giulia hadn't been left alone with Elijah – left alone at all, really – since she had woken in her bed the next morning, smiling to herself and sneaking a hand under her heavy duck-down duvet as she remembered kissing Elijah in the candlelit ballroom – remembered how they had found themselves a chaise in a tiny private parlour, Giulia sitting in Elijah's lap as they kissed feverishly, breathless as Elijah's hand found its way beneath her skirts, up her thigh, his fingertips finding and teasing the perfect spot with such infuriating calmness as she had writhed – he hadn't been entirely unaffected, but gentleman that he was…he'd wanted to do something for her.

If he had expected her to be shy and overwhelmed by the shadow of his experience, she had stunned him; she was not the shy introvert when it came to being a lover and she knew what her body wanted. She was utterly unjaded when it came to her lovers – her reactions, her demands, she didn't care, and far from being embarrassed thinking of how many lovers he must have had in his long life, Giulia thanked the women of Elijah's past who had taught him how to be such a considerate lover. Nothing mattered but reaching that exquisite point of no return, when she could just let go. If Elijah weren't such a gentleman Giulia would have made sure he met her there – but he was, and it was torturous that he'd been able to tease her body the way he had, without her being allowed to reciprocate. She'd have him yelling to the rafters, she grinned to herself as she writhed under the covers, panting, her entire body throbbing.

Finishing herself off she groaned, relaxing into the mattress – and realising what day it was, she wrinkled her nose and dragged herself out of bed, airing the bed while she went to shower; Christmas morning. The others would either lie in, or torment everyone by bounding in to jump on their beds. And, yes, she was thinking of Cara, the nut who shuffled around the house in a unicorn-onesie and a tinsel headband, trampolining until three a.m. and SnapChatting like a lunatic. She'd been on a high since the solstice and claimed church made her frisky – Giulia had forgotten she and Vera had gone to midnight mass at the local Catholic Church, good, devout Roman-Catholic girls that they were. They and Giulia had decided not to get into any theological discussions – they were vampires who still attended Catholic mass, Giulia was a devout historian with a mental acuity for engineering, facts and numbers. Elijah had had to play referee in an argument between them the other day; lightsabers had been drawn, vervain slingshots fashioned. They were forced into an enormous 'Get Along' t-shirt for three hours. It had given rise to a hilarious three-legged ice-skating phase.

Last night, they had binged on seafood – after learning that Giulia and her dad usually went to their favourite Italian restaurant in Mystic Falls on Christmas Eve, where the owners put on the Feast of Seven Fishes for anyone who wanted to bring a bottle of wine and a donation to the children's hospice and join them. Giulia was still wondering how many pounds she was glad she might have put on just eating under Elijah's roof – he certainly made sure no guest ever went hungry. And she adored watching him cook while she did her homework at the kitchen-table.

It wasn't long before Ashlyn was awake – she was the human teenager and needed her beauty-rest, and the vampires didn't need as much sleep. Giulia felt well-rested for the first time in almost months, and was waiting in the drawing-room with the tree glittering and shining with ornaments, her mother's biscuits arranged on a platter on the coffee-table with a tea set. She nibbled on the edge of a cookie, trying not to allow any morose molecule to mutate inside her body at the symbolism of those cookies. She had enjoyed baking them with Ashlyn, freezing half the batches of dough so they could be brought out at a later date, her tradition. The others – Elijah's family – had been so good, coaxing Giulia out of her depression, enveloping her in their holiday traditions, allowing her to celebrate some of her own.

By the time Ashlyn had traipsed downstairs in her robe, Cara was chomping at the bit to tear open her gifts while Vera sipped champagne with the elegant Frenchwomen and Elijah, who for the occasion had dressed down, for once, in a hunter-green cashmere sweater that looked so glorious with his rich golden skin and dark hair, Giulia just wanted to nibble him. The "grown-ups" had stipulated no gifts, for them; Giulia had put together a Christmas parcel for Ashlyn with all lovely things, makeup, handwritten recipe-cards they kept exchanging, DVDs, a record, dainty jewellery, some goofy, inappropriate gifts that were bound to make her blush as she unwrapped them in front of her family. But Giulia had brought two antiques she was dying to return. When they had said no gifts for themselves, the vampires hadn't stopped themselves supplying enough presents for Giulia to last her a lifetime of Christmases. Presents had never been a huge part of her Christmas, and the most excitement she used to get about the whole thing was Secret Santa with the girls – this year she had received Bonnie's name, but she always gave Caroline something: she had roped Mr Forbes into hiding her gift from Caroline until Christmas-morning.

"You said no gifts," Giulia said, feeling flushed and awkward; she never knew what to do when receiving unexpected gifts. Valentine's was a nightmare.

"We know what a bust your Christmases are, so call it overcompensation," Cara grinned.

"After the few months you've had, we thought you deserved a treat," Vera smiled. "We all agreed." Giulia raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ashlyn, who grinned, buried in a pile of wrapping-paper.

"You knew about this?"

"I told them you'd get weird," Ashlyn beamed, shrugging unabashedly as Giulia's cheeks flamed, Vera and Cara bringing over handfuls of beautifully wrapped presents. Giulia shot Ashlyn a sly look, and smirked.

"Well, if I'm going to be uncomfortable, so are you – this is from Jeremy," she said, producing an envelope between her fingers as she offered her hand to Ashlyn. Cara whipped around like a coked-up Mad-Eye Moody, a candy-cane sticking out of her mouth, eyes firing up, throwing herself toward Giulia's hand and that envelope – Ashlyn tried to hold her off but Giulia prevented her taking the envelope, instead opening it herself – she and Cara played piggy-in-the-middle with the hand-illustrated card Jeremy had sent to Ashlyn, several Polaroids from the Fifties dance tucked inside it.

"Children," Elijah chided. "Enough is enough. Give Ashlyn the card, or neither of you shall have your presents."

"Daddy's getting angry," Cara said, shooting a mischievous little grin at Giulia, who ducked her chin contritely. They caught each other's eye and snickered as Elijah sighed, shaking his head. Giulia relinquished the card to Ashlyn, who tucked herself away to read it, a tiny smile lingering on her lips that she appeared to want to hide.

"Okay, presents!" Cara cried, and Giulia held her arms in front of her face as she started pouring gifts on top of Giulia. She should have known Cara would take delight in making Giulia as uncomfortable as possible; every friend she had was subject to her torturous sense of heightened – low-brow – humour. And she considered Giulia her 'wifey'. There were no boundaries.

But Giulia couldn't say she didn't appreciate the gifts they had chosen for her. Some new clothes, an amazing leather motorcycle-jacket, a magnetic travel-Scrabble board, a pot of luxurious homemade blush made by Victoire, packaged in a vintage-style rouge tin (Victoire was working on creating her own vintage-inspired cosmetic line to sell across tiny niche boutiques across the US), a brand-new set of amazing silver headphones, quite a bit of very pretty makeup perfect for her "pale-as-moonlight complexion" (Chocolat said), some sheet-music, a collection of all four of Bogie and Bacall's films, a very dainty gold orchid Cartier pendant with a tiny diamond, and from Cara, a tiny pink shiny gift-back filled with tissue-paper; suspecting the worst, Giulia peeked inside, and looked up, giving Cara a lecherous grin.

"Ah," she sighed, "the gift that keeps on giving."

"What with our long-distance relationship I thought you'd appreciate a helping hand," Cara said, grinning roguishly, and Giulia chuckled. "Should help you to sleep better."

"From the bottom of my heart, thank you," Giulia said, hugging the tiny pink bag and the tinier tube inside it to her chest, grinning. She was dying to glance at Elijah but knew she'd just burst out laughing. "Are you ready for your gift?"

"Alright, gimme the keys. I can drive a manual," Cara grinned, holding her hand out.

"Ha-ha," Giulia rolled her eyes. "Although I can build you a motorcycle if you've got a spare couple days."

"Truly?" Cara sighed dreamily, as Vera rolled her eyes.

"You're not allowed," she said gently, as Giulia went to the tree, lifting out first one heavy present and then the other, gifting them to the sisters without ceremony.

"It smells old," Carafina crinkled her nose.

"They are," Giulia said, as Veronica painstakingly unwrapped her gift – the others had been teasing her all morning for being the one who always had the most presents left to open, hating unwrapping them in front of people.

Their faces as Carafina unwrapped the ancient Salvatore family Bible, and Veronica's as she lifted the wrapping-paper from the embossed, metal-clasped leather binding of her coded diary, complete with all illustrations and notes, were priceless; the other vampires in the room fell quiet as they watched, curious at their reactions. Carafina was silent, and there was something…so deeply tragic, so heartbroken and profoundly real about Veronica's always flawless poker-face lifting like a veil as she ran her fingertips in a hesitant, almost frightened way, over the first page of excruciatingly difficult coded Latin.

"Hey, some d-bag's graffiti'd my book!" Cara cried indignantly, gaping, horrified, at the pages of the Bible where generations of names of Salvatores had been scribed through the ages. "Oh, look – Giuliette Lu –"

"Okay, that's enough!" Giulia blurted, launching herself at Cara. She'd forgotten that. Her dad had written her name in the Bible, a tradition they did uphold even if neither of them had ever set foot in a church.

"You can't take back gifts!" Cara cackled, judo-chopping Giulia's wrist to make her relinquish the Bible. "Your middle-names are Lucrezia Fi –" She rushed forward, smacking her lips right on Cara's to shut her up. Not even Caroline knew her middle-names; she thought it obnoxious of her parents to have given her two.

"Fiore's not an embarrassing middle-name, Giuliette," Cara snickered when she broke away. "No tongue?"

Giulia rolled her eyes. Backlash. Should've seen that coming. "You have to earn tongue."

"Any boyfriend ever tells you that, dump him," Cara smirked, and Giulia laughed. "Giuliette Lucrezia Fiore Salvatore."

"Obnoxious, isn't it? My dad loved the name Lucrezia, it kept popping up throughout the generations," she said, showing Cara the first instance of Lucrezia on the Salvatore family-tree, directly beneath Carafina Lucrezia di' Salvatore, where six names were listed, Cameo, Aurelia, Pietro, Innocenza, Lucrezia and Luciano. A date of death followed Aurelia's name one year after her birth, Cameo had died during childbirth when she was fourteen, Lucrezia had been married five times, regarded as the greatest beauty of her time, known as La Sans Pareille, 'the unparalleled one', Innocenza had married a Spanish prince, and Luciano became Pope. Zach Salvatore had unknowingly named his daughter, the first true-born female Salvatore in centuries, after their Renaissance vampire ancestress. Their Renaissance ancestress who ate Pez and ecstasy pills for breakfast, collected vibrators like most people did baseball-cards, loved Toy Story manicures, glitter lava lamps, Jackie Wilson records and drawing Sharpie moustaches on unwitting drunkards.

"Your full-name is Giuliette?" Ashlyn blinked at Giulia. "Why don't people call you that?"

"Do I look like I sigh over balconies?" Giulia said, giving her an ironic smile. Ashlyn pondered this question.

"Pass out drunk over them," Ashlyn mused, and Giulia chuckled. "So…you three are related?"

"Little Giulia over here is…is she mine or yours, Vera?"

"Track the tree," Vera said, eyeing the family Bible with a gentle smile; the diary was open in her lap, Giulia thought she might have wiped tears from her cheeks. Cara followed the family-tree back from Giulia's name.

"I'll be damned, look at that. It's me!" Cara grinned. "Man. It's one thing when your own daughters grow up to be hotter and smarter – but great-granddaughters?! There's no justice in the world." She sighed heavily, then her expression morphed into something very eccentric. She looked up at Giulia. "Oh. Incest."

"A cardinal sin," Vera said delicately, turning a page of her diary.

"Wifey… I'm afraid we can't see – No, I can't do it – not on Christmas day! …Isak never minded."

"It was his favourite part," Vera mused, without looking up from her book.

"True. And, think about it, a blonde, a redhead – now we've got a brunette to add to the banquet," Cara said, with another lecherous grin.

"Do you wonder at the backlash Cersei and Jaime will create?" Vera mused thoughtfully; one of Giulia's gifts had been a copy of A Game of Thrones, something Cara deemed essential to her personal library: she had been a devotee since the first book was published in the Nineties. That, the Spice Girls and the world-changing Harry Potter had kept her sane through grunge.

"We're not twins," Cara said, glancing up; Giulia hadn't read the books and so didn't understand the reference – yet. She supposed it had something to do with notoriety and the obvious love the two sisters shared that superseded everything. They had spent eternity together, loving one another.

"Can we have a conversation the rest of us can keep up with?" Chocolat sighed.

"We'll use small words," Cara said, without missing a beat. She pored over the Bible for ages, while Vera sipped her champagne and read through her diary. Giulia wondered if she was going to ask her about it, but Vera didn't make any mention of her diary, the contents, whether Giulia had broken that orgasmically difficult code. But something changed in her; she was no longer as elegant and untouchable as Giulia saw her; there was a warmth and kindness to Vera that before had been guarded by that impossible perfect, collected façade, and she started to show it to Giulia. Her great-niece far too many times removed to try to work out.

Elijah was the last to give Giulia a present; a pouch of hand-carved wooden puzzle pieces. No instruction manual, no picture, just nearly a thousand intricate pieces that fit together in a methodical sequence, otherwise the puzzle didn't work. Giulia gaped at it, sheer delight rocking through her.

"That's mean, Elijah, that's – "

"Foreplay," Giulia grinned enthusiastically, beaming at Elijah before turning the bag upside-down to empty the pieces on the carpet. Nearly a thousand pieces, they called to her like angelic Catholic choir-boys at Easter mass.

"No, no, no, not before dinner," Vera said warningly, and Giulia's shoulders slumped, staring beseechingly at her Great-Auntie.

"But –"

She wasn't allowed to start playing with her puzzle, just as Ashlyn wasn't allowed to call Jeremy Gilbert to thank him for her card, until after Christmas dinner: like the English, Elijah's family celebrated Christmas dinner more than they ever would Thanksgiving. The Christmas meal consisted of two main-course choices, beef Wellington cooked by Elijah himself, with honey and rosemary-roasted root vegetables, creamed leeks, cabbage, peas and tiny baby onions, or ducks glazed with a combination of fig jam, lemon-juice, fresh rosemary and brown-sugar, stuffed with baby onions and lemon, served dressed with fresh blackberries slightly wilted in the oven with lemon-juice. Elijah had banished Giulia from the kitchen after stealing one too many of the mushrooms he had been attempting to sauté for the Wellington. She loved butter-sautéed mushrooms, especially with scrambled eggs, as Elijah had discovered while they made their early-morning breakfasts together, stealing kisses ever since the solstice.

A tradition in the family, Elijah's family, was to bring one's favourite dessert to the Christmas feast. Everything from Victoria sponge with homemade strawberry jam, a medieval rose pudding favoured by Jacques, something potent and alcoholic provided by Chocolat, mince pies, stuffed dates, figs and fruit, and cream-puff swans made it to the table, with an apple strudel, blackberry and apple pie, a traditional English Christmas pudding doused with brandy and ignited, served with fresh custard, candied kumquats, baklava, various wintry English puddings, gorgeous French cheeses and homemade crackers, and beside Giulia's tiramisu was Elijah's contribution, an elderflower and blackberry Charlotte cake garnished with edible violets. Giulia knew it wasn't his favourite dessert ever, he had too many, had too sweet a tooth to be faithful to one, but he always contributed something different to the Christmas dessert buffet. Cara's contribution? Prosecco with fresh peach juice.

"Giulia… Giulia…you're going to need to move so we can see the screen," someone said behind her: she had been allowed to sit on the carpet with the nearly 1,000 pieces of her puzzle, and was itching to keep working through the annoyingly meticulous, detailed pieces, stopping her brain from piecing them all together before her fingers could follow, not wanting to ruin the surprise of the final puzzle shape. "Giulia… Giulia!" Too focused, the voices were only barely audible, and only until someone reached a hand down did she realise anyone had approached her.

"Giulia…what I'm going to do, because we need you to move, is to take one of these pieces. And unless you move, I'm going to hide it, and you won't ever be able to finish that puzzle," a voice said, and Giulia snapped her eyes up. Cara had been grinning; at the look of utter fury, bordering on a Hulk metamorphosis, on Giulia's face, her pale eyes glowing and sparkling viciously, she whipped her hand back. The others laughed, but the spell was broken, Giulia shook herself.

" – like she a snake or some'," Chocolat was laughing.

"She looked like a freakin' Medusa!" Cara said indignantly, shivering as she backed away from Giulia, hands raised palms-out in surrender, no sign of any stolen puzzle-piece. "I could see it in her eyes, she was gonna break into my house and set my autographed Ghost poster on fire if I stole one of those pieces!"

"You should've seen her when Stefan ate her bunnies," Lexi remarked, and Giulia shook her head, shaking off the focus she had dedicated solely to those taunting puzzle-pieces, scattered on the carpet. Elijah was smiling from Ashlyn's other side where she was cuddled up on the sofa, a space left for Giulia. The others had gathered for movies, and Lexi? She had been quiet during the holiday but Giulia supposed that was more because she had been spending all her time with Ashlyn and Cara.

They had regrouped in the drawing-room several hours after dinner, after a snowball-fight, and rather than contribute a dessert to the Christmas dinner, Lexi now treated everyone to a cup of bona fide Restoration hot-chocolate, the way it would have been served in the first chocolate shop in London during the reign of Charles II, when Lexi had been turned by Elijah and presented to court. It was utterly rich and smelled delicious, almost floral, with orange-blossom, jasmine, egg, nutmeg, all kinds of delicious things Giulia had never thought to add to hot-chocolate, but sitting cuddled up under heavy knitted blankets with Ashlyn and Cara, Firenze in her lap, hot-chocolate warming her palms as tears rolled down her face, quaking from giggles in anticipation as they watched Uncle Buck, the first of two traditional Christmastime movies Ashlyn had watched, cuddled up with Cara and Elijah, every year since she was three.

Wiping her eyes, she chuckled and scratched a purring Firenze; Elijah had disappeared, returning a moment later while Vera changed the disc with Giulia's vibrating cell-phone. She hadn't checked it at all throughout her stay; and she saw there were only a couple of missed calls from Damon, none from Stefan whatsoever, and a text from Damon asking her to pick up the fabric-softener he liked when she went grocery-shopping. But the screen also showed Caroline had tried to get her – she hit redial and Caroline picked up almost instantly.

"Merry Christmas!" she cried delightedly; being with her dad always put Caroline on a high.

"Merry Christmas," Giulia smiled warmly.

"You sound happy – what time did you start drinking?" Cara smirked at Giulia, who eyed her Prosecco.

"Maaaaybe." She grinned devilishly, tongue between her teeth. She could just imagine Caroline's eye-roll.

"'Maybe' isn't a time, Giulia," Caroline chided, sighing. Giulia laughed as Cara refilled her glass with relish.

"Say hi to your dad for me. Is his boyfriend still hot?" There was a muffled conversation on the other end of the line. She loved Caroline's daddy too.

"Daddy says hi, and he says yes, Stephen is still hot, and you're to keep your cheekbones away from him," Caroline said, and Giulia laughed richly. The Prosecco and the wonderful day had gone to her head. "He says he hopes you're doing okay, and that if you have been abusing the Christmas spirit, you're to stay away from any high places, sharp objects and/or cute boys."

"Pot-kettle! I will if he will!" Giulia teased; she loved Caroline's daddy too. "Tell your dad I'm in good hands, and I'm glad you're spending the holiday together," she said, and Caroline relayed the message. "Have you opened your gifts?" In the Forbes family, gifts were only opened in the evening on Christmas Day, after dinner.

"Yes! That's why I called – oh my god, you are totally the best gift-giver ever, I swear," Caroline giggled. "Daddy says you outdid him."

"Not possible."

"Well, no. But I'm wearing the bracelet and those gorgeous hair-ornaments for the Miss Mystic Pageant," Caroline said excitedly, and Giulia smiled, stroking Firenze.

"I thought you would. They're perfect," she said gently.

"You know me so well," Caroline sighed happily.

"Psychically connected, baby," Giulia murmured, smiling.

"Is it mean of me to say I hope you didn't get yourself anything as gorgeous to wear to the pageant?"

"Don't worry. I'm only there to make sure you look like the crown-jewel surrounded by pretty if somewhat flawed gems," Giulia said, and Cara snorted; she had her chin propped on Giulia's shoulder, pulling faces as she listened in on Giulia's phone-call. Across the room, Chocolat was watching her with a scrutinising expression. She had been strong-armed into applying for the (unofficially Founders-only) Miss Mystic Pageant by Caroline, who thought it amazing that Giulia was the first female Salvatore by blood in the history of settling in Mystic Falls, and so was the first female Salvatore who could ever have entered. But Caroline was also dead-set on being crowned Miss Mystic, and Giulia was the only other girl in town who put in as much effort as she did with community service and school participation.

"Thank you," Caroline chirped, and Giulia grinned to herself. She knew Caroline so well. "Well, I just wanted to call and say thank-you. The jewellery is beautiful."

"You're welcome. Thank you for the cookbook," Giulia smiled warmly; Caroline had given her a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child.

"You're welcome. I expect a feast for my birthday, BTW, I stickied the recipes," Caroline said, and Giulia scoffed, shaking her head; she'd found the subtle neon-purple arrow Post-It stickers.

"I wondered what the subtle hints were about," Giulia said, and Caroline giggled.

"Okay, well, I have to let you go now, Daddy's making the mulled wine and if I don't stand over the stove he'll just drink it all," Caroline said, and Giulia laughed.

"Enjoy the rest of your trip," she said, and said goodbye. Vera pressed play, and they were treated to the classic, the stomach-achingly funny Home Alone. She had watched it too many times, loved it, couldn't stop her giggles in the lead-up to scenes she knew were hilarious. Her stomach – full from that fantastic meal – hurt from laughing too much, and her eyes stung from tears of laughter.

"So, what's the Miss Mystic Pageant?" Chocolat asked, handing her another refill of Prosecco. She was ensconced too deeply in the collective cuddle of bodies, Elijah, Ashlyn, Cara.

"It's a beauty contest," Giulia sighed, sipping her Prosecco. On a scale of one to interested, Giulia was 'show-up-stoned'; she had applied for Caroline. "Traditionally the Founding daughters of Mystic Falls enter and the one who dedicates the most time to charity, the prettiest, the most popular girl wins. She presides over town events and wears a big sparkly crown. There are roses and this absurd dance, but the cake's good."

"You gotta wear a pretty dress?" Chocolat asked, and Giulia gave him a measuring look.

"Yes," she said, giving him a raised eyebrow. She smiled fondly at him, knowing where his designer's mind was going with the speed of a rocket. "I know where your mind was going, and thank you for it. But it's a small-town beauty pageant. I've already picked it out." Chocolat gave her a look this time.

"Giulia, you're a Salvatore, you gotta represent," Cara sniffed, drilling her knuckle into Giulia's arm.

"Damon's wearing a tux; he's way prettier than me," Giulia said drily, and Lexi scoffed. "If I show up at the Miss Mystic Pageant in one of your gowns, Chocolat, Caroline will flay me with her manicure set."

"Yikes," Cara grimaced, and Giulia nodded. She smiled fondly at him

"I'm participating because Caroline thought it'd be fun; she thinks as the first born Salvatore girl I should be delighted to compete for the crown."

"And you're not?" Vera smiled. Giulia shrugged.

"Not really my scene," she said, an understatement; but it was important to Caroline and had been since they were six, watching the future Dr Meredith Fell receive her glittering crown from Mayor Lockwood.

Chocolat insisted on creating her makeup look and hairstyle fit for the pageant, if she wouldn't allow him to contribute a jaw-dropping gown for her to wear; he disliked the idea of his friends wearing substandard garments, but Giulia showed him a picture of the dress she had ordered, and he had grudgingly given his approval. Giulia didn't want to participate in the pageant, she had signed up for Caroline's sake, but she wasn't going to let it show how much she didn't want to be there, how she disdained the inbred, outdated and ignorant Council's yearly beauty pageant.

New Year was a non-event for vampires, at least these ones; they had technically already celebrated their own New Year the night of the solstice, with all the proper pomp and circumstance – on the evening of 31st December, Giulia found herself in a pale-brown bear onesie, cuddling Firenze and playing Battle Shots with Chocolat while Ashlyn braided her hair and Cara played simultaneous Tetris tournaments.

She didn't want the holiday to end, knew it would and a sudden desolated pang went through her at the idea of leaving this cocoon of warmth, of affection – of family – to return to Mystic Falls. But the pang softened, dissipating, and she straightened her shoulders, resolving never to let herself sink into the state she had devolved into the last few weeks. She was stronger, better than that, this was the life she wanted, would work for; happiness. A family. If the Salvatore brothers wanted to be a part of that family, that was their choice; but she had to build something for herself regardless of them.

By the time she was poured out of the limousine in front of the Boarding House half a week later, Giulia was still pondering how to distil the atmosphere of Elijah's holiday celebrations into something she could recreate in her own home. It was dark, moody, barren: it didn't feel as if anyone lived there. And why would it, when the inhabitants were cold-blooded, needed neither heat nor sustenance. A lingering kiss from Elijah had fuelled her journey home, and she bit her lip, sighing as she gazed around the empty great-hall. She wanted to make some changes; she had to start now and not look back. She…just wished she could have stayed with Elijah, his family. Her friends.

And…she already missed Elijah. Staying up late talking with him, playing chess or cards, or just relaxing with each other, reading – sometimes she had just closed her eyes and listened to him playing the piano or the violin, he was exceedingly talented with either one, though seemed to prefer the piano - and waking up anticipating breakfast with him.

The house was quiet.

"Did you enjoy Connecticut?" a voice asked. Giulia turned, glancing up, and saw Stefan. Instantly his expression sank a weight onto her shoulders and she sighed. Already? He looked so deeply disapproving, almost worried, staring at her with disapproving eyes hooded by that strong judgemental brow.

"I did," she said quietly, frowning.

"Well, it's a good thing Lexi texted to tell us where you'd disappeared," Stefan sighed, stepping downstairs with his hands in the pockets of his fashionably-distressed, just-a-little-too-tight jeans. "Damon got a little…confused, when he went to take you breakfast on Christmas morning, and you were nowhere to be found." He levelled a judging half-glare at her. "I couldn't believe you'd be so irresponsible." Giulia tried. She really did. Memories of her holiday, that warm, safe feeling, the ache in her stomach from laughing, the fullness from eating so much delicious food, Elijah… She tried to hold on to it all, to use that to push back, cover, stifle the anger prickling her skin at that expression on his face.

So she spoke calmly and fairly, "I'm not accountable to anyone, anymore, Stefan. You and Damon have made certain of that. But I did have a good time. And I needed it. Please don't ruin it." Stefan just stared at her for a moment, before scoffing, shaking his head, and walking away. Giulia closed her eyes, pressing the heels of her palms to them, suddenly tired, and traipsed up to her bedroom. Lexi, she thought. Traitor.

How were they supposed to have missed her, worried about her, if they knew where she was? And why would they miss or worry about her when they hadn't?

A.N.: Please review. From here on, things will be different again, and I'm going to try to speed up the way things develop. Miss Mystic pageant in my mind occurs on the Saturday closest to Valentine's, and before then Stefan is nabbed; then, it's a clear shot to Isobel and Katherine.