"Doppelganger," Katherine practically spits when she sees Elena, hatred momentarily overtaking the pain and fear in her eyes. She opens her mouth – almost certainly to spill more vitriol – but then Klaus tells her to shut up, and she does.

"Doppelganger," Elena murmurs back, hatred in her heart but not her voice. She allows herself to delight in Katherine's pain. In the ifear/i in Katherine's eyes. Klaus turns to Elena, obviously pleased with himself.

She realizes that it is important that he know that Elena is pleased as well. That Elena is igrateful/i.

(If there is a part of her – a very small part of her – disturbed at the sight of her own eyes, wide in pain and fear; of her own face, gaunt and pale; of her own hands, stabbing and stabbing and stabbing… well, she'll never admit it. Not to Klaus. Barely to herself. Mostly, she's just thinking of iAunt Jenna, Uncle John, Ric, Matt/i.)

"Thank you," Elena murmurs, tearing her eyes away from Katherine for a moment to shoot Klaus a pleased smile. If it were Elijah presenting Katherine to her like this, she thinks she would have kissed him. (She reminds herself that Klaus isn't Elijah; Elena knows that can't afford to forget that.)

"You really do love this," Klaus replies, something like wonder in his eyes as he examines her reaction closely.

Elena tells him the truth, even though it hurts: "She murdered my Aunt Jenna, and her boyfriend Ric, and left their bodies for me to find. She murdered my Uncle John, who also happened to be my biological father, and left ihis/i body for me to find. She arranged it so my ex-boyfriend would kill my iother/i ex-boyfriend. And she turned the vampire who killed my little brother, and sent him into a tailspin pointed right at me. There is inothing/i you could do to her that she wouldn't deserve."

Elena watches Klaus's reaction carefully, and she realizes that (unlike Elijah) Klaus isn't even the slightest bit sympathetic to Elena's pain. But he seems to understand – and approve of – her need for revenge. She tucks that observation away, in case she needs it later.

"She ran from me for 500 years," Klaus tells her, his smile vicious as he looks at Katherine, still stabbing herself in the leg. "She'll suffer at least half that long."

"Why not twice as long?" Elena asks, flippantly.

She doesn't mean it, not entirely. She'd rather Katherine dead than suffering. Because a suffering Katherine is still an alive Katherine: still a ithreat/i. But she hopes that Klaus will be amused at her words.

He is. He laughs, clearly delighted. (Elena notices for the first time that he has idimples/i.)

"What would you do, if I let you have free reign?" Klaus asks. He disappears from Elena's side and reappears behind Katherine, putting his hands on her shoulders, leaning over to rest his head on top of hers. He looks at Elena over Katherine's head: his eyes are wide and excited, almost like a little kid on Christmas morning, asking a friend to play with a new toy.

The truth is: stake her, immediately. That way, Katherine can never escape; can never hurt or kill Bonnie or anyone else, ever again.

But the truth is boring. (She can't afford to be boring.)

"It depends," Elena says instead, her tone teasing.

"Depends on what?" Klaus asks, clearly a bit intrigued.

"On whether you'll help me or not," she tells him, with her best coy smile. "I have so many ideas… but I don't have your abilities, your strength." Elena wonders if she's being too over-the-top; if she's too playing to his ego too obviously.

But Klaus bites – hook, line, and sinker. "Let's say I'll help you, sweetheart," he tells her, now more than a bit intrigued. "Tell me more."

It's an order, not a request. Elena complies; of course she does. (She'll play his Scheherazade, if that's what it takes.)

"If I had free reign, iand/i your abilities, I'd compel her to relive her worst moments every time she closes her eyes," Elena whispering, giving words to her cruelest fantasies for the first time. She's never even written them in her diary. "Finding her entire family dead; her fault because she betrayed you. The foulest things she's ever done, except she's the victim, instead of the perpetrator. I'd turn the mind she so prizes – the manipulations, the schemes – against her."

Elena continues, sharing with Klaus all of the worst things she's ever wished on Katherine. She shows him the worst of iElena/i.

And Klaus doesn't turn away. No, he's seems fascinated. His eyes never leave her face, his smile only growing as she continues. (Elena supposes that the worst of her is no match for the worst of ihim/i.)

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Klaus practically purrs to her. And then he tilts Katherine's head up, and forces her to stare into his eyes, and makes Elena's wickedest dreams into reality.

The sun is rising by the time Elena and Klaus are finishing up with Katherine, and Elena is tired, but not as exhausted as she should be. (She wonders if that's Elijah's blood, still coursing through her veins…)

"Where would you like to visit first?" Klaus asks her, as they leave Katherine's room.

"Maybe the bathroom?" Elena says wryly, looking down at herself. She's icovered/i in blood, most of it dried at this point. Only some of it is hers.

"It suits you," Klaus tells her, his eyes heated. He must mean all the blood, because Elena can't imagine that her jeans and ripped shirt are doing it for him.

But it doesn't matter exactly what he means, because the important thing is this: Elena recognizes desire, when she sees it. And she knows that desire, rejected, can make a man do terrible things. (She tries not to think of Damon, murdering Jeremy in front of her, simply because she didn't care for him the way he wanted her to.)

Elena doesn't want to have sex with Klaus: with this man who will be her murderer in one month's time. And she can't help but think of Elijah: his blood in her veins, and in her pocket, his mouth on hers, his dark eyes and his iheart/i, fixed on her and yet daggered at her hand. Elena knows – she iknows/i – Elijah would view it as a betrayal, if she were to have sex with Klaus: the brother he loves and hates in equal measure.

The brother who murdered his family.

But ultimately, it doesn't matter what Elena wants, or how Elijah would feel. What matters is directing Klaus's desires, and aligning them with her own. She can't hurt his pride, or arouse his anger by rejecting his lust.

However, Elena thinks having sex with Klaus now would be a strategic mistake. If she doesn't present any sort of challenge at all, he'll find her boring. And Elijah's stories – sanitized as she knows they must have been – play through her mind.

The absolute worst thing Elena can do is ibore/i Klaus.

"Many things suit me," Elena replies coyly, a beat before the silence between them would have dragged on too long. "Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to pack a bag before Isobel drove me here. You wouldn't happen to have any of Katherine's clothes, would you?"

Elena hates the thought of wearing Katherine's clothes. But she consoles herself with the thought that Katherine would hate it even more, and it isn't practical to walk around in bloodstained clothing.

Klaus accepts her deflection, scoffing that he can find her something better than Katherine's old clothes. Elena shrugs; it isn't a challenge, but maybe he takes it as one, because he promises that he'll have clean clothes ready for her when she gets out of the shower.

And he does. There's a fluffy robe waiting for her, and racks and racks of designer clothes for her to choose from. Elena wonders just how Klaus did this: who and how many people he compelled, and if he let them walk away when he was done with them. (She doesn't ask.)

After Elena is clean and dressed, she searches for Klaus – and finds him in the kitchen, with a catered breakfast spread that could feed ten people. Klaus watches her closely as she eats, and she wonders if he's taking mental notes. (Elena can't help but be reminded of Elijah, and the way he reacted to her human need for food and water, all those months ago.)

Klaus asks her what city she'd like to see first. Elena takes a few bites of her eggs as she thinks about it, all of Elijah's stories flashing through her mind.

"London?" she asks, more than tells. Elena figures by the way Klaus smiles that he likes the idea.

They're in London by the next day.

Katherine doesn't come with them. Klaus doesn't tell Elena where he left her, but he assures her that Katherine will be suffering the entire time. Elena doesn't question him: just smiles.

She knows that Klaus likes it when she smiles at him. She makes sure not to do it too much, or too little. (He is Goldilocks, and she is the chair, and the porridge, and the bed, and she must get it all just right – the first time.)

They stay in the nicest hotels, and eat at the nicest restaurants, and visit all the top attractions. (It makes her ache for Bonnie, for iCaroline/i, and their shared dream to travel together, after graduating high school. It'll never happen, now.)

Klaus doesn't leave her side, not once, and his eyes follow her, constantly. At first, it seems as if he is waiting for Elena to run. Then, he seems to stare just because he ican/i. She knows he watches her as she sleeps; the only peace Elena has from the heavy weight of his gaze is when she uses the bathroom. (She starts drinking a lot of water.)

And every morning, Klaus orders "room service" for breakfast: eggs and toast and fresh fruit for her, and the delivery person for him. Klaus stares into her eyes as he drinks, and Elena makes herself stare back, unflinching. (Elena is surprised at first when he doesn't kill them. She doesn't ask, but he tells her anyway: killing draws attention, and he's having too much fun with their party for two to invite anyone else.)

She knows that he likes that she doesn't balk at his monstrous face. Elena wonders if, every time he bites down into some random stranger as he stares into her eyes, it is iElena/i he is feeding from, in his mind. Elena, he is consuming.

And in a way, Klaus is consuming her: every day, she feels further and further away from her old life. From her old morals. Her old iself/i.

Sometimes, she wonders if Elijah would love this version of her. He was a monster too, but he didn't want to be. Would he recoil from an Elena who does not flinch at the sight of vampiric hunger? Who is numb to it? (Who imagines herself the subject of it, and feels only a distant sort of icuriosity/i?)

Even more often, Elena thinks of Bonnie. She thinks her friend may hate this version of Elena, and everything she's done and will have to do. But at least Bonnie will be alive to hate her. (She doesn't think of her mom and dad, of Jeremy, of Aunt Jenna and Ric, of Matt and Caroline. She can't afford to, right now; her grief wouldn't entertain him.)

Klaus soon bores of London, and they move on to Paris. Elena enjoys the Louvre. Even better, iKlaus/i enjoys the Louvre. He'll wax poetic about the art for hours, and he requires only minimal participation from Elena. She looks at him, and she listens, and she files away every bit of even potentially helpful information, but there's something freeing about not being expected to say much back.

Elena can irelax/i there, amongst the painting and sculptures. Just a bit.

It's in Paris that Elena realizes Klaus is lonely. Just as lonely as Elijah was. (Just as lonely as Elena iis/i.)

After Paris, it's Barcelona. One afternoon, Klaus gifts her a teeny tiny string bikini, and then brings her to a topless beach. Elena stares into his eyes and doesn't flinch as she unties her bikini top.

Klaus stares back at her, desire burning in his blue eyes. He doesn't try to touch her. They go back to that same beach every day they're in the city. (It would have been a joy, with Elijah by her side. Instead, it's a challenge; a game. iEverything/i is a game.)

After Barcelona, it's Rome. Klaus is in his element again, lecturing her about art and history. Some of his stories start to venture into the personal. Some of them are awfully familiar, though a lot bloodier than when Elijah told them to her. (Klaus seems very careful never to mention any of his siblings. Elena wonders what exactly that means – does he feel guilty for killing them?)

Elena knows that Klaus likes that she listens to him. He appreciates the weight of her eyes on him as he talks. He enjoys her attention.

And he guards it possessively. iObsessively/i.

Elena doesn't realize quite how obsessively, until a man bumps into her while she and Klaus are visiting the Capitoline, with Klaus in the middle of one of his stories. Elena lets out a little "oomph" as the man's shoulder hits her, knocking her back half a step. It's clearly an accident, and the man stops to apologize; Elena nods her acceptance. She turns back to Klaus, catching from the corner of her eye the way the man looks her up and down.

Elena isn't sure if that look is what seals his fate, or if he was doomed from the moment he knocked shoulders with her. In the end, it doesn't really matter. Elena can only watch, silently, as Klaus compels the man to leave the museum and walk into traffic. Then Klaus turns to her, and resumes his talk as if nothing at all happened.

When they leave the museum, Elena doesn't look at the police cars still parked out front.

The next day, Klaus takes her to Sofia. As they walk through the National Art Gallery, he moves smoothly from talking about the art to telling her the story of killing Katherine's entire family. (He talks normally, as if unbothered by the idea of any of the other museum visitors listening in to his gruesome tale.)

The question is out of Elena's mouth before she can think better of it: "Why did you kill her sister?"

"She betrayed me," Klaus responds, as if it's obvious. Even after everything Katherine has done, Elena doesn't think that's quite right, but she isn't stupid enough to correct him. That isn't her real question, anyway.

"Right. But you didn't know that Katherine had a daughter before she left Bulgaria, and her sister shared her blood. Why didn't you wait to kill her until after she had children?" Elena asks him.

Klaus doesn't answer.

That's answer enough. (He reacted before he thought the consequences through, but he doesn't want to admit it.)

Elena changes the subject, because Klaus being embarrassed does nothing to benefit her: "You never told me how you caught Katherine, actually." It's a good subject: he'll get to crow about how clever he was. He likes that.

"She trusted the wrong person," Klaus tells her, his lips twisting into a vicious smile. Elena thinks about it. She only needs a moment.

"Isobel," she guesses. The satisfied expression on Klaus's face confirms it. Then he tells her the story: how he heard that Isobel was looking for him, how he found Isobel instead, and put her under his compulsion. She told him all about Katherine, and Mystic Falls, and Elena. From there, it was simple enough to lure Katherine in with the promise of a pardon, after she fled Mystic Falls because of Elijah.

Her next question, Elena isn't sure that he'll answer. But she doesn't think he'll get angry if she asks: "Why did you have Isobel give me the dagger, if you didn't expect me to use it on Elijah?"

Klaus just looks at her, his expression calculating. When he doesn't respond, Elena shrugs, turning her attention back to the painting in front of them. Klaus stands next to her, their shoulders brushing.

"It was a warning for Elijah," Klaus admits. Elena thinks about it. A warning that Klaus knew Elijah's plans? That he could dagger Elijah at any time? That he could take Elena? (Maybe all of that, at once, and more.)

"Sorry I ruined your warning," Elena tells him with a teasing smile that she doesn't really feel. (Her heart still hurts, thinking of Elijah. She has no idea where Klaus is hiding his body. She hopes he's safe, and not in pain, wherever he is.) Klaus laughs, and tells her that he wishes all his plans would be ruined like that.

After Sofia, it's Tampa Bay.

iFlorida./i

Elena turns on the phone that she hasn't touched in almost four weeks. She ignores the missed calls, and the voicemails, and the texts. Well, except for the few missed texts from Tyler, asking her where she's been and what's going on.

Elena can tell that Tyler is growing worried, but he isn't frantic; Bonnie must not have told him what happened. She doesn't respond to any of his texts, instead scrolling through some of his old messages about how Tyler was settling into his new pack.

"Can I ask you for another boon?" she asks Klaus, after she tells him everything she knows. The order of their conversation is very important: she has to share the information first, so he doesn't feel like they're negotiating. She knows that he's more likely to be generous if he feels like he's in complete control.

"You may ask, and I'll consider it," Klaus tells her, his expression curious. (And pleased, to be in a position to grant or deny her what she asks.)

"Werewolves from this pack attacked me once," Elena says, baiting the trap. (Revenge, she reminds herself; not sympathy. Klaus isn't Elijah.)

"And you want me to kill them all," Klaus guesses. Elena doesn't like to contradict him, but that is the exact opposite of what she wants. "Unfortunately, I'm going to need werewolves, after the curse is lifted."

Elena nods, too glad that Klaus refused what he thought was her first request to question why he will need werewolves after the curse is lifted. She tries to focus on her plan; she hopes he'll be more inclined to grant what he believes to be her second request.

"I understand," Elena replies. "Elijah killed most of the werewolves who actually attacked me, but one of them got away. This blonde woman – the Alpha. Her name is Jules. I'd like you to use her for the sacrifice. If it wouldn't be itoo/i much trouble." She finishes with her best smile and a fluttering of her eyelashes, playing it completely over the top.

Klaus laughs, amused. "Granted," he murmurs, reaching forward to ghost his thumb over her bottom lip, as if he can't resist touching her smile. He pulls his hand back before Elena decides how to react.

"Thank you," she tells him, satisfied that she did the best she could to protect Tyler. And Mason, too.

That night, Klaus introduces her to Greta and Maddox. He leaves her with Greta, while he and Maddox go to "collect" Jules. Elena feels a little lost; it's the first time that Elena has been apart from Klaus for more than a shower or bathroom break since she met him.

Greta doesn't seem like she likes Elena much, so Elena just curls up on the sofa and reads a book until it is late enough that it won't be rude to go to bed. (Elena wants to ask Greta if she's helping Klaus willingly; if she misses Dr. Martin, or Luka. But she doesn't ask, because Elena hasn't played this game for nearly a month just to ruin it now for idle curiosity.)

In the morning, Klaus is back, and Greta and Maddox are gone. Jules is with them, presumably, because although the blonde woman is nowhere to be seen, Klaus is obviously pleased as punch. Klaus orders room service for Elena, as usual, but he doesn't feed on the delivery person.

She guesses that probably means that he fed last night. She doesn't ask.

After Florida, Klaus takes her to Washington D.C. "It's the closest city to your little backwater town," he tells her. "And the month isn't over, yet."

Not yet, but almost. That night, the moon is nearly full as they stroll from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial. "The month doesn't have to end, you know," Klaus tells her, out of the blue, after she asks him whether he ever spent any time in this city.

Elena pauses. "What do you mean?" she asks cautiously. He's been waiting 500 years to break the curse; she knows nothing will stop him from doing the ritual on Sunday night.

"You need to die to complete the ritual, but you don't have to stay dead," he says. (Elena remembers the letter that Elijah wrote her, when he offered her the choice between his blood and the elixir. The vial of his blood sits heavy in her pocket, even now – Bonnie's notice-me-not spell hiding it from Klaus's prying eyes.)

"You're offering to give me your blood before the ritual," Elena responds, keeping her voice perfectly even. She meets Klaus's gaze. There's something unreadable in his eyes; she doesn't like the look of it.

She's not sure "offer" is the right word. (She realizes she might have failed to thread the needle between Klaus liking her, and liking her itoo much/i.)

"I haven't had this much fun in decades," Klaus divulges to her, his tone nothing but matter-of-fact. But now Elena sees a certain vulnerability in his gaze. He's all the more dangerous for it.

"I might not be as much fun, as a vampire," Elena responds, allow her uncertainty to color her own voice. (If Klaus shows weakness, she needs to show more. Always, ialways/i, let him have the upper hand when it matters.)

"Elena," Klaus murmurs her name, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face.

He's going to kiss her. (She has to kiss him back.)

He's gentle with her, in a way she didn't expect. Behind her, someone wolf-whistles. Elena is careful not to freeze, not to pull away.

That person's life depends on it.

Klaus breaks their kiss with a sigh, but he doesn't seem angry. He's too pleased to be angry.

And thankfully for the person who wolf-whistled, he currently doesn't have eyes for anyone but Elena. (Elena isn't quite sure what to do. How does she make him like her less, without making him angry?)

Klaus holds his arm out for her, and Elena takes it, allowing him to escort her back to their hotel. They spend the walk in silence; Elena would even call it companionable, if her mind weren't racing a mile a minute.

Elena had planned to drink the vial of blood that Elijah had given her before the ritual. Would it really be any different, drinking Klaus's blood instead? (Of course, other than the fact that Elena hadn't planned for Klaus to know that she came back…)

But… if Klaus wants her to come back, is there any harm in asking?

"Can I tell you a secret?" Elena whispers, as they walk through the lobby of their hotel and into the elevator in the back.

"Always," Klaus murmurs, excitement clear in his eyes. (He wants every piece of her, Elena realizes. Even – maybe iespecially/i - the pieces she doesn't want to give him.)

"Greta's father brewed me a resuscitative elixir," Elena tells him, deciding it best not to mention Elijah right now.

But Klaus scowls anyway. "Elijah," he growls. "At least he didn't try to give you Katerina's."

Elena is surprised, but does her best not to show it. Elijah never told her that he had an elixir made for Katherine, too. She tries to not let it hurt. (She wonders if Elijah offered Katherine his blood too; offered her "always and forever." She refuses to think about it.)

"It's in Mystic Falls," Elena tells him. The elevator doors open onto their floor. She walks into the living room, and curls up on the sofa, trying to make herself look smaller than she is. "I left it behind, when I surrendered to you."

"Is that what you did, love?" Klaus asks, something wry in his tone. "Surrender to me?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Elena points out, not sure she likes the way this conversation is going.

Klaus gives a meaningful glance around the lavish hotel room. "Yes, you're here – not compelled to stay inside a coffin like Katerina, or held under a sleeping spell like the wolf girl." It's the first time Klaus has mentioned compelling Katherine into a coffin; any other time, Elena would ask all about it, but she has a bigger issue right now.

Elena thinks that Klaus thinks that she did all of this to seduce him: to save herself. She doesn't correct him regarding her motives. By necessity, Elena is a lot better at reading Klaus, than Klaus is at reading her: she's spent the past month reading his every move, while trapped like a bug in a jar for him to stare at.

"I surrendered without conditions," Elena reminds him, instead of responding to his accusation directly. "I threw myself on your mercy, and you were generous enough to treat me kindly."

"I'd treat you more than kindly, if you'd let me," Klaus tells her. Elena would think it almost a romantic declaration, coming from anyone else. But whatever Klaus feels for her – lust, fascination, excitement – it isn't iromantic/i.

"Then let me take the elixir," Elena asks again, trying to bring his attention back to her request, while deflecting any declarations that she isn't quite prepared to handle. "I have forever to be a vampire. Let me grow up a bit, first."

Klaus stares at her, his gaze piercing. Elena doesn't let herself wilt under his eyes; she's asking for his generosity, but she can't seem so desperate as to be begging.

"Human doppelganger blood is a powerful ingredient for all sorts of spells; much more powerful than vampire doppelganger blood," she tells him. (Maybe bargaining will work, just this once?)

"You're bargaining with me," Klaus says, sounding idelighted/i. "Go on."

"You need to drain me to the point of death for the ritual on Sunday," Elena acknowledges. "But if I take the elixir and come back human, you can use my blood for all sorts of spells."

"I'm not a witch," he replies, a smirk on his lips. He's amused, and just being difficult for difficulty's sake, now.

Elena is pretty sure that she's convinced him; he just hasn't admitted it yet.

"You have iaccess/i to witches, though. Ask Greta or Maddox what they could do with a few vials of my blood – I'm sure they'd be thrilled," Elena tells him. Klaus steps up to stand right in front of her, so she needs to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

"Why do I just keep giving you what you want?" he murmurs, almost more to himself than to Elena.

"Because it's what you want," she answers him anyway.

"It is," Klaus agreed – and then he sweeps her into his arms, and kisses her for the second time.