Four years after Vampire Diaries ended, Fells Church is moving on. Up. And all because of one tiny company called The Catacombs. Run by Alaric Saltzman and his fiancée, Meredith Sulez. But soon people start disappearing, and eyes are turning to two members of The Catacombs staff. Elena and Stefan.
All they want now is to be left alone and be a normal couple. Doing the stuff teenage couples do when they're in love. Because Elena's a vampire again, and she won't grow up for nobody.

But Damon's back. He's back and he's mad. Someone's trying to awaken the spirits of the Civil War, and it's not going to be pretty. Especially when The Catacombs rests on two lay lines.

The plot is mine. The characters and scenery (except The Catacombs) belong to L. J. Smith. If the plot resembles any others on FF then it's coincidental because I haven't read many L. J. Smith fanfics.

Dedicated to all you Vampire Diaries fans: this is for you!
- xxx -
Salvatore Shan

The Devil Owns The Catacombs
Chapter One: No Interruptions

Fells Church.
Four years after the events in The Reunion

Though the night blanketed the town a little more harshly than usual, it was only Elena who truly took notice. The darkness was something that seemed like daylight to her. It was as if the sun had ducked into the clouds, and everything was thrown into an unusual blackness. The streets outside were alive with noise. Fells Church had grown. Only slightly. It had only just attracted people from the nearby towns. Like moths to a flame, they came to where the vampires allegedly lived. And like any good town, Fells Church provided the vampires. Only – they were nowhere to be seen.

Elena turned away from the window, sighed and switched the microphone on, speaking into it with a tired and strained voice. "Will all of you please note that The Catacombs close at ten pm this evening." She said drolly, taking her time saying each word.
If the tourists in that stupid cave would only realise that it was fake. Would someone trash catacombs by putting loudspeakers in the chambers? And camcorders? It would completely 'ruin nature's intention', as Bonnie liked to remind her. One day, somebody would find out and Elena would be out of a job.

Hooray, she thought, not being as enthusiastic as she'd like to be. This whole job reeked of charity. And Elena hated charity. Aunt Judith was forever throwing dollars at her, getting her to spend, spend, spend. But Elena didn't want it. Nobody understood what she felt about money anymore. She was sick of it. She and Stefan had enough put away to buy Salvatore mansion back. So why don't we? Elena thought.

She turned, almost automatically, to look up at the clock on the wood-panelled wall. Half nine. Her shift ended in thirty minutes. She groaned and looked down at her lap. Her job was no fun. Alaric had thrust it on her, unexpectedly. He thought it would be perfect for her – since she was a vampire and the catacombs were where vampires lived. But it was all a show for the people wearing sunny hats and holding 'Come see the vampires' leaflets, taken from Fells Church information centre.

Elena snorted at the thought and looked up at the many CCTV footage being fed through from the underground artificial cave. And… there he was. Settling in another fake skeleton into one of the coffins. The television screen was labelled: The Chamber – where Stefan spent most of his time, fixing skeletons and making coffins look authentic.

And who better to adjust a vampire's home than a vampire? Alaric really was ironic sometimes. All those simple people walking past Stefan and not even thinking for an instant that he was a vampire – the vampire that drew them to this town. But of course, his uniform did throw them off the scent. As did Elena's.
She noted how dirty her black t-shirt and jeans were getting. This office was stuffy and dusty. Her badge was smeared with sweat where she twiddled with it. No air-conditioning, no fans – not even a drinking fountain! She was dying a slow death.

Elena looked back up at the clock, willing the time to pass. Stefan's shift ended in fifteen minutes. He had the cooler job – he actually went down into the catacombs. Elena watched the TV screen intently, eyes following her undead boyfriend. He was just biding time now, fiddling with a few fake cobwebs. Elena was jealous, but she couldn't wait to get out of this place and go back to the boarding house for some time alone with him.
"Time flies when you're having fun," she muttered, sarcastically, and stood up – ready to go do some paperwork.

The drive home was perfect. No talking on either side, but a tension there between the two that was just bursting to escape, bubbling inside each of them until their bedroom door was flung open and they could truly be alone. Stefan's face didn't hide it completely. He was trying to keep his expression masked but every now and then a familiar smile crept up from nowhere and his eyes would shine.

Elena wasn't nearly as sly. She kept twiddling her engagement ring on her left hand, smiling cheerily and hanging her head out of the Porsche, feeling the night air on her face. After four years, Stefan still had his 911. He wouldn't part with it – not easily.
And suddenly the car was creeping around the corner and Stefan had parked just outside the boarding house. Mrs Flowers had died a year ago. She'd left the whole house to Stefan – him being her only tenant. Elena figured it was because she had no friends or family. But after so many years of knowing her, Stefan never did solve the mystery of why she was so… well informed. About vampires, that is.

Stefan stepped out of the car and got the boarding house keys out from his back pocket. Everyone still called it the boarding house – the name stuck. Even though Mrs Flowers didn't live there anymore, it wouldn't stop being the boarding house.

Elena swung out, tossing her blonde hair back – smiling amiably. Stefan was twirling the keys on his finger, whistling to himself, as he walked up the path to the looming house. Elena followed, walking slowly – ears tuned into the street. Not a sound… They really would have no interruptions.

She gave Stefan a secret smile as he opened the front door and turned to face her, his green eyes alive and bright like the sea. His wavy black hair had been straightened on a number of occasions recently and he preferred it that way. Today was no exception; despite Elena forever telling him he looked more like Damon everyday as it was, without him straightening his hair. But she didn't really mind.

He'd cut it short too. It was gelled into a Mohawk today, with small spikes that set off his green eyes as if his hair were the foam upon the waves – dark with creatures from the deep swimming to the surface.
And all the while Elena walked, Stefan's grin grew wider and wider, just like the door he opened a little more with every step she took. When she was inside, and they were both in the corridor, Stefan let go. The door slammed shut. It clacked into its frame and the house was still.

Stefan narrowed his eyes at Elena, apparently trying to figure something out. Elena gave him a confused glance and when she got nothing back from him, she sighed and let him circle her. Finally after a minute of imitating a vulture, Stefan stopped and circled his chin with his hand.
"Hmm," he murmured, intelligently, looking her up and down. Then suddenly he stopped all together and broke into a smile. "You're getting taller."

Elena laughed and hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Not likely," she said, trudging off up the stairs, her flip-flops slapping the steps as she went. "I'm a vampire, remember?" she called down to him.
"How could I forget?" Stefan commented, dryly, rubbing the spot on his shoulder where she hit him. Ouch, he thought.

Elena was brought back to the night in the clearing, four years ago. Everyone was collapsing with exhaustion and it was clear Damon wasn't coming back. And neither was Tyler for that matter. And she'd asked Stefan to turn her back into a vampire.
Though she hadn't felt it at the time she was one, she knew it was the shape she was destined to be in. Then she could never grow old and leave Stefan. And if they ever parted they would go to the same after-place. And she was comfortable, staying as a seventeen-year old girl that every guy fancied, and every girl wanted to be. All except Caroline Forbes – who wanted to be herself.

They were also the best of friends now. No more arguments or jealously – just understanding. They were equals, except it was Caroline who ruled the town now. She was the one who was known about beyond the inner circle of close friends and family.

Elena, however, was dead to the world. To all except the ones she could trust. Caroline, Bonnie, Matt, Meredith, Alaric, Aunt Judith, Margaret, Robert and of course Stefan. But trust didn't stretch as far as Damon. She could only just have faith in him – but that wasn't the same as absolute trust. He always used to find the most terrible times to turn up. That was when he came back. Three years ago. He knew about her because he was Stefan's brother – and a vampire too. End of story.

"So," Stefan called up after Elena, smirking.
"So?" Elena shot back – voice muffled. She was changing into her pyjamas.
"So… what about the kitchen?" Stefan laughed, suddenly standing in the doorway to the master bedroom. Elena jerked up, shocked that he had appeared without her knowing. She hadn't even heard him climb the stairs. Her heart slowed and she grabbed a pillow from the bed.

"Jerk!" she cried as she flung it at him. Stefan caught it before it hit the floor, and his eyes never left hers. After a while, Elena sighed dramatically and grabbed a brush from the dresser next to the bed, running it through her hair. "What about the kitchen?" she groaned.

Stefan's expression faltered slightly, but he was still smiling in an unnerving way that made Elena unable to figure out what he meant. Suddenly Stefan flashed a movie-star smile and leant against the doorframe. "I'm just wondering whether it'll be entirely suitable, that's all."
She caught his drift immediately. "Oh no." she said, as if scolding a little kid. "I cleaned it this morning. Not in the kitchen."

Stefan poked his tongue in his cheek – which he often did now when he was thinking.
"Why not in here?" Elena asked.
Stefan scoffed. "Be original!"
Elena, exasperated, shook her head and sat down – waiting for him to deliberate.

"The hall," Stefan said finally.
Their eyes locked and they both nodded slightly. "The hall," Elena repeated, grinning sheepishly.