The following afternoon, after classes had finished, Hope met Roman outside the front of the school. "So where are you taking me?"

"Well, this town has nothing going for it, and I figured stealing a car to take you to the Quarter might be a bad first date," Roman said with a smile. "So are you okay with the diner and a milkshake?"

Hope laughed. "That sounds good. Although for future reference, I do have a car in the garage, so the Quarter is doable."

"You have a car?" Roman asked.

"Honey, I'm Hope Mikaelson," Hope said, sliding her hand into his as they walked. "My family was arguing about what kind of car to get me when I was ten. On saying that, if we ever go to the Quarter, it is practically a guarantee that someone in my family will show up, so that's probably more a third date kind of thing."

"I mean, I have technically met your family," Roman said. "But you're probably right."

The nearest town to the school was not - in Hope's opinion - qualified to describe itself as a town. Even smaller than Mystic Falls, it had an elementary school, a high school, a cluster of stores, and three churches.

Why so few people needed three churches (alright, two - one of them was closed), Hope had no idea.

It was a twenty minute walk, going fairly slowly, and they chatted about school and classes - for the most part, they took the same classes, but there were a few classes they had separately, individually crafted for vampires and witches.

Hope had other friends at the school who were vampires, but she'd never really asked about the other classes.

"Do you find history boring?" She asked as they approached the diner. "Having lived through it, I mean?"

"Well, so far, we haven't had any classes about anything I directly experienced," Roman answered, holding the door for her. "So it hasn't been too bad."

"Hello!" The greeter said cheerfully. "Just the two of you today?"

Hope bit back a sarcastic comment as Roman agreed and the woman led them over to a booth.

Once she was out of earshot, Roman leaned across the table. "I mean, could she see anyone else?"

"Oh, thank God," Hope said, giggling. "I was thinking that."

The diner was fairly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but then it was the only place for social gathering in the town.

On the other side of the diner, most of the tables were occupied by elderly people, chatting over cups of coffee.

A few tables away, a group of jocks were loudly discussing the weekend's game, all clad in the high school's letterman jackets.

There seemed to be an invisible line through the establishment, meant to separate the young from the old.

"Sorry, sorry!"

The server appeared at their sides, looking very harried. He looked to be about Hope's age, dark curly hair and somewhat exotic looks.

"Hope?" Roman prompted, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry," Hope said, glancing back at her menu. "Peanut butter milkshake please. And can you put the whipped cream on the bottom?"

The server raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Not a problem. I'll be right back." He took the menus and headed back in the direction of the kitchen, only just managing to keep his balance as one of the jocks stuck a foot out to trip him.

"Assholes," Hope muttered under the laughter.

Roman touched her hand. "Are you okay? You seem … distracted."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Hope turned back to him. "Sorry; I swear to God I know him from somewhere. Just can't put my finger on it."

"Something tells me that we're not getting our order anytime soon," Roman said. "I'm willing to bet those dicks do that again."

Hope shook her head. "Not taking that bet."

Roman narrowed his eyes. "They're talking about you."

"I'm female," Hope said, squeezing his hand. "Of course they are."

His eyes darkened - she wasn't sure what had just been said, but she was willing to bet that it was either very unflattering or very inappropriate.

"Hey." She leaned across the table, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm not giving them the time of day, alright?"

Roman closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The veins beginning to litter his skin died away, just in time for a loud crash.

Hope sighed. "That was ours, wasn't it?"

"Kirby!"

"Of course the manager's going to blame him," Roman said, opening his eyes again. "Recognise the name?"

Hope shook her head. "Nope."

While the jocks laughed, the server started cleaning up the mess as the manager approached.

"Look, just … Get these people their order and grab a mop!" He bypassed the mess in favour of approaching Roman and Hope. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience."

"It's fine," Hope said with a sweet smile. "We're not in a hurry. Although I'd like it if you could switch that apology to your server instead."

"Excuse me?"

"Your customers intentionally tripped him," Roman said in a low voice. "And they have been saying highly inappropriate things about other customers since we've been sitting there. So blaming your server for an accident seems a bit unfair."

"He won't," Hope said as the manager walked away.

"We can only hope," Roman said. "Those assholes probably 'spend a lot of money here' which means they can do whatever the hell they like."

"How do you know they've got money?" Hope asked.

"One of them's borrowed his dad's Porsche," Roman answered. "There's a … charity car wash? Have I missed something over the last few decades?"

"High school washes cars in exchange for charity donations," Hope said.

"I guessed that," Roman said. "They don't strike me as the philanthropist types."

Hope smirked. "Girls in bikinis."

"Okay, that makes sense."

The server reappeared with a tray. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Hope said. "Out of interest, have you ever been to the French Quarter?"

His brow creased. "No. Why?"

"No reason," Hope said hastily.

"Okay," he said, still looking confused. "Well, enjoy. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Roman said. "Don't know him then?"

"Well, that was my guess," Hope said. "That I'd seen him around there somewhere. I guess he just looks like someone else."

"They say everyone's got a doppelganger somewhere," Roman said.

Hope snorted into her milkshake. "One day I'll tell you why that's funnier than you realise."

He wasn't a doppelganger - her hand had brushed his when she took her milkshake; it wasn't nearly enough for a proper reading, but enough for her to be fairly sure that he wasn't supernatural.

"Sometimes it is just a coincidence," Roman said, as though he was reading her mind.

Hope smiled. "I know. So you were saying that you lived in Brazil for a while?"

Thankfully, the table of jocks had quietened down. Or, at the very least, they weren't getting louder and Hope was able to tune them out, in favour of listening to Roman talking about South America.

She had almost forgotten about the high school drama unfolding behind her, when a sudden crash made her jump.

"Table," Roman murmured. "Overturned."

Hope winced at the manager's voice again. "They overturn a table and he still blames the server?"

Laughing, the leader of the pack clapped the server on the shoulder. "Have fun with that. Let's roll, boys."

Hope snorted. "Let's roll? What is this - Grease?"

"Nah, the T-Birds were cooler," Roman said.

Hope watched the boys gather around the cars outside, one of which - as Roman had said - was a sleek, silver Porsche. "You said that was his dad's?"

"Yeah, and it sounded like his dad didn't know about it," Roman said. "Why?"

Hope smirked. "Can you get us to the high school before them?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Of course. I'm paying."

Hope paused, hand halfway to her purse. "Are you sure?"

"I know things have changed over the years," Roman said. "But I'm fairly sure if you do the asking, you pay for the date."

Hope's eyes darted to the mess behind them and what was - undoubtedly - no tip. "At least let me add to the tip."

Roman heaved a mock-heavy sigh. "Oh, alright then."

Hope smiled triumphantly, setting a bill beside her glass, gratified to see that Roman had put down a similarly large bill.

He met her eyes. "Great minds think alike."

Hope took his hand as he led her out of the diner and they slipped down the next alleyway.

"Ready?" Roman asked.

Hope checked that her purse was securely fastened across her body and nodded. "When you are."

Roman wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against her, and then they were moving, the wind rushing past them.

It stopped all of a sudden, in the trees behind the high school. Across the street, the cheerleaders were mid-car wash, dressed, as Hope had predicted, in skimpy shorts and bikinis.

"Aren't they cold?" Roman asked.

"It doesn't matter," Hope said. "Looking good is more important than feeling good. I don't get it."

"Yeah, but I'm fairly sure you get out of bed looking gorgeous," Roman said, "so you don't have that problem."

Hope slid her arms over his shoulders to lock behind his neck. "You think?"

"Of course." Roman kissed her, pulling away just as convoy of jocks pulled up. "So what are you thinking?"

"Just wait," Hope said with a smirk. "We're not supposed to do any magic out here, in case someone sees us, so …"

"My lips are sealed," Roman said.

"Excellent." Hope watched as the driver got out of the 'borrowed' Porsche and sauntered over to one of the cheerleaders. "Oh, fantastic."

"What?" Roman asked.

Hope grinned. "You didn't tell me which one borrowed the Porsche. I was really hoping it was Mr 'Let's Roll' - and it is! That was the one I was going to get and this is going to be so much better."

"So what …?"

"Wait," Hope said again. "Just wait."

Timing was everything.

The cheerleaders began to wash the Porsche, showing off to the driver in a way that Hope assumed they thought was sexy.

"Don't they have sponges?" Roman murmured.

"Yeah, they're just trying to get his attention," Hope answered.

"How?" Roman asked. "By washing his windscreen with their chests?"

Hope chuckled. "You're adorably old-fashioned and I love it."

Roman smiled, pressing a kiss to her head. "Out of interest, what are you waiting for?"

"The girls to step back to rinse off," Hope said. "Don't want to hurt them."

A few moments later, the cheerleaders stepped back and one of them picked up the hose to rinse off the car.

Hope lifted her hand and murmured a few words under her breath, freezing the water on the car. Then, as the jet of water hit the car, she flexed her fingers, causing all the glass in the car to shatter outwards.

As the screams of shock started (the highest belonging to the driver, quite pleasingly), Hope tightened her arms around Roman. "Okay, get us out of here."

With another gust of wind, they were suddenly deeper in the trees and Roman allowed himself to erupt into laughter. "You," he said, kissing her, "are an evil genius and I love that."