A.N.: Hello, m'lovelies! Another chapter for you.


Dangerous Beauty

13

Be Our Guest


She stumbled into the main room of the Boarding House, yawning. The others had already gathered – Stefan, freshly showered and changed, Hero Hair clean but not styled; Elena, rolling her eyes impatiently at Jeremy, who was grinning lazily as he sketched, feet kicked up on the coffee-table where several blood-bags had been tossed casually. Liz, sat on the daybed, looking out of her depth. A look Giulia had never seen on her before. Despite the call to go home, hot and sticky and just wanting to douse herself under a cold shower and traipse about her house in a flimsy t-shirt and her underwear, revelling in the warmth, she had coaxed her Beetle to the Boarding House, fearing her baby was about to perish.

"So, Liz is gonna stay here for a few days as our guest, we're gonna ensure the vervain's out of her system so we can compel you and we can all live happily in your ignorance of our dirty little secret," Damon said, smiling viciously. He hadn't changed, and his shirt and jeans still showed evidence of the failed assassination-attempt. "Stef's moved a cot down there; we'll keep you in books and bourbon. You might wanna to sweet-talk your daughter into food-shopping if you, you know, want to eat; we have citrus."

"For Lemon Drops," Giulia said, smiling as he handed her the aforementioned cocktail. Citrus and tart and delightful after a hot day working up a good sweat. He offered one to Liz, who looked like she'd never seen a glass before. He shrugged, taking a good swig of the yellowy cocktail himself. She glanced at Liz, who was blinking at her drinking her cocktail so casually. "Caroline's on her way, she's picked up some things for you."

Liz let out a sigh, shaking her head, "Let's just get this over with." Damon arched an eyebrow, but shrugged. Lemon Drop in hand, he showed Liz down to the basement.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Elena asked in an undertone, glancing at Stefan.

"She'll be fine," Giulia said quietly, answering for him. "Damon wouldn't hurt her."

"Oh, you think so?" Elena asked, giving her a nasty look.

"Yes." She glanced at Jeremy. "So what'd you find out?" Jeremy glanced up from his sketchbook.

"Tyler Lockwood's not a werewolf," he announced, and Giulia fought the urge to roll her eyes. Duh! "But he told me his uncle, Mason, is. According to Tyler, who got it from Mason, it runs in their family, through the Lockwood line. It's latent until they trigger the curse. And the only way to do that is to kill someone. Tyler said, any death at your hands – murder, or fighting as a soldier according to Mason, or like a car-accident, even – and the curse is triggered. Every full-moon Mason turns into a wolf."

"So…Mason's killed someone?" Elena frowned, looking aghast. Giulia glanced at her, wondering if Elena ever felt culpable for her parents' deaths because she had pitched a fit and demanded they pick her up from the bonfire after she had a fight with Matt.

"Tyler says one of Mason's friends got drunk one night and attacked him, thinking Mason was sleeping with his girlfriend," Jeremy sighed, still sketching away. She peered closer, smiling subtly when she realised he was stoned. He hadn't gotten high in a while but she imagined he and Tyler had a lot in common, and what better way to bury the hatchet between them than to share a bowl? And what Jeremy had said niggled at her. Interesting, she thought. Someone, a friend, had attacked Mason, provoking a fight that ended in his death? "The guy died, apparently. That's how Mason triggered his curse."

"Why did Tyler tell you all this?" Giulia asked. "He's usually close-lipped."

"Sarah and Aimee were looking through my sketchbook, they found my drawings of wolves, Tyler attacked me, so I told him I knew. Made up some lie about Jonathan Gilbert's journals, how he wrote about a curse in Tyler's family, and he told me," Jeremy shrugged, fingertips smeared with charcoal as he sketched, distracted. "He said his uncle's in town trying to find something."

"Find what?" Stefan and Giulia asked simultaneously. Owl-eyes peered up at them, and Jeremy's attention drifted off. Giulia snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Looks like you and Tyler really bonded," she smirked, amused. "What is Mason looking for?"

"Tyler said it's a moonstone. Big shiny rock, kinda milky, about yay big," Jeremy said, holding up his hands, finger and thumb four inches apart. "It was smooth and cold. Tyler said his uncle's been skulking around the house looking for it; but Tyler knew where his dad had hidden it, so he took it." Giulia scoffed, amused. That was classic Tyler. "According to Google, moonstones are used in all kinds of occult traditions."

"Like the amber crystal," Elena said softly, eyes widening with realisation. Giulia raised an eyebrow, surprised a girl who could barely scrape a C- in repeat Geometry could make the connection. "So…this thing Mason wants–"

"Ten-to-one Katherine wants it," Giulia sniffed, and Stefan nodded solemnly.

"Definitely," he sighed. "Guess that's why she sought him out in Florida." Giulia glanced at him, biting her tongue.

"Well. Can't have that," Giulia said lightly.

"You said Tyler has this moonstone thing?" Stefan said, frowning seriously.

"Yeah, but, I don't know… The girls were messing around with it, and Tyler knocked Sarah and she kind of…fell down the stairs – she wasn't hurt, but… Guess Mason was right; he said Tyler wouldn't be able to think about anything else if he told Tyler how the curse is triggered," Jeremy yawned. "He was still pretty freaked out after the girls had left."

"Hence why you got stoned," Elena said coolly, glaring at him.

"And didn't even invite me," Giulia sighed, shaking her head.

"Can you not encourage him?" Elena snapped. Giulia held up her hands defensively.

"Like he needs encouragement," she chuckled, and Jeremy gave her a lazy grin.

If – well, there was no if: Katherine had found a lone Lockwood and seduced him, only to manipulate his friends into triggering his curse, turning him into a werewolf. She bet Katherine had then revealed her secret to him, standing by him, supporting him, earning his trust. And she'd have told Mason about a little curse they could break to stop him turning into a wolf every month. But she needed his help to do it. She needed the moonstone she had entrusted to his family a century and a half ago. She wondered what lies and stories Katherine had told Mason about his ancestor George, how they were connected. Well, Giulia's way forward was clear. She caught Stefan's eye, and they shared a sombre look.

"We'll deal with Mason," he said, glancing from the floor to Elena to Giulia, clearing his throat. "Meanwhile…you and Jeremy should go."

"No, Stefan, we can't just go–"

"That's exactly what you're gonna do. Jenna and Ric are expecting you. Katherine's still lurking out there, and there's no limit to what she's capable of," Stefan said fairly. "What happened today doesn't change anything." He sighed, pushing his hair back in frustration, eyeing the blood-bags on the coffee-table. "She wants to separate us. Push her way between all of us. That's what she does, she wreaks havoc and she doesn't care who she hurts. But she wants to punish us. Me. And you."

Looking almost startled, bewildered, Elena gathered her things. Jeremy caught Giulia's eye and they both grimaced. She watched Stefan as he fiddled with the blood-bag, exhaling deeply.

"What are you doing?" Elena asked, eyeing him, the blood-bag. Giulia perched on the arm of the daybed, sipping her Lemon Drop, phone in her hand waiting for any word from Caroline.

"Katherine took a little vervain every day to immunise herself," he said thoughtfully. "I could do the same with blood. I could learn to control myself on it." Giulia raised her eyebrows, surprised. Damon had been telling Stefan for years – so had Lexi – that in order to live a full life, accepting what he was as a part of who he was, Stefan had to learn how to feed without giving in to the rapture of glutting himself on human-blood. Instead of locking the Ripper away, Stefan had to learn how to control him. Like Jekyll and Hyde. The Hulk. He had to find a way to be both, with the strengths of both, the vulnerabilities, the traits that too often might have led to Stefan's death being so careless, leaving trails of bodies, controlled.

"But you can't, Stefan," Elena said gently, cajolingly, as if reminding him he didn't have to feel guilty about forgetting to do his Pre-Calculus homework. "You don't have to."

"I almost died today, Elena," Stefan said, glancing up at her and looking more sombre than he had all day, even surrounded by death in the Lockwood cellar. "Because I was too weak."

"But the last time that you drink human blood…" She left the thought trailing on the air, and they all – perhaps not Jeremy, Giulia got the feeling Elena hadn't confided everything about the dangers of her relationship with Stefan to her little brother – knew what she was talking about. She may choose to ignore, perhaps she hadn't actually made the connection, that Stefan had Ripped a girl in the next town. Grove Hill was still searching for their serial-killer.

"I told you I'll find a way to stop Katherine, didn't I?" Stefan asked belligerently. "Well this is it; this is the only way, because she's stronger than me. And unless I change that, I can't protect you." Giulia kept quiet; she was of the opinion he needed to learn how to control his cravings for human-blood. While Damon was around to keep him in check, he might have a better shot of doing it. Especially with a perky life-coach like Caroline Forbes to help; she couldn't resist.

Elena lowered her voice, glancing at Jeremy and Giulia, still sipping her Lemon Drop. She tapped her fingers to her lips, glancing pointedly at the door to the basement staircase. "Can we talk about this later?"

"He can hear us wherever we are because he drinks this," Stefan blurted angrily. The reactions of a vampire pushed into an impossible situation, frustrated and futile, were not all that different from a human's. Belligerence, outright anger, bargaining, helplessness, trying anything, no matter how desperate. "This is the only thing that can help me!"

"Are you serious?" Elena gasped softly. "Are you…pretending to fight? Because I can't tell if…" Giulia rolled her eyes, so did Jeremy; but it was sufficiently awkward enough neither of them said a word, pretending to be part of the furniture while their love-struck 'siblings' fought.

"No, this is real," Stefan said, his anger simmering away to a steely resolve. "No more pretend." Elena stalked away, looking upset and self-righteous.

"I really don't miss having a boyfriend," Giulia mused, and Jeremy snickered, climbing off the sofa. "Enjoy your dinner."

"Yeah, I will," Jeremy smiled lazily. "Guessing Elena will be in a mood."

"Force her to eat something, her mood will alter dramatically," Giulia said, concerned her friend was actually disappearing while she watched her pick up her purse from under the table in the foyer. She knew Jenna wasn't exactly Martha Stewart about keeping the refrigerator and pantry stocked the way Miranda Gilbert had, but she always made sure there was something to eat for breakfast, and eating out was so cheap there were no excuses for dinner. She wondered if not-eating was Elena's way of coping with the stress of everything going on.

Giulia finished her Lemon Drop as the siblings departed, leaving her alone with Stefan. She fiddled awkwardly with her empty glass, peering across the room at the bar-station Damon had set up on the heavy table the other side of the sofa; antique ice-bucket, cocktail-shakers, crystal decanters, jars of olives and maraschino cherries, liqueurs, a dish of limes. She was considering making herself another when Stefan glanced up, looking like he wanted to ask her something.

"Oh, don't look at me, I'm not getting involved," she said, raising a hand defensively.

"But you agree with me," he said, his tone defeated. Giulia let out a long sigh.

"I think…that regardless of whether it's Bambi or a Soccer-Mom you're drinking, Katherine will still be stronger – she's got centuries on you," Giulia said fairly. "I agree that you should learn how to control the Ripper. But I don't know that now's the appropriate time, when your back is up against the wall…"

"You don't think it's the right time…" Stefan sighed, dumping the blood-bag on the coffee-table. Giulia eyed it thoughtfully.

"I think if you want to do it, we're all here. We'll support you," she said, perfectly honest. She may not like Stefan half the time, he had always been far from her favourite, there was a disconnect between them and always had been due to his awkwardness around her being human… But he was…family. And sometimes, when they were having a good moment, sometimes it felt a little like having a brother – one she rolled her eyes at, disdained his choice of girlfriend, didn't feel any urge to spend much quality-time with, but someone she thought would have her back. As she did his. They were family – several generations removed, but they were bound by blood, and the Salvatores stuck by their family. "But if you want to do it, you have to think hard about how you're going to do it, how you're going to keep yourself from flinging yourself over the edge."

"That, uh, still doesn't help me with Katherine," he said, looking tired. Giulia pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Being fully aware of how cheesy this will sound, Stefan, our strength is in each other," she said softly. "Our friendships, our bonds – Elena and her family, me and Caroline, you and Damon. You two may squabble like little bitches but if anyone threatened either of you, the Hero Hair would gleam in the sunshine, the Wonder Twin superpower rings would activate… And I know you both will work together to defeat anyone who dared try to threaten the people you value in your lives. If that means Elena or Tyler or Caroline or Liz or me, I know you two won't stop until you know we're safe. Just like we'll all fight for you, too. That is our strength. Katherine has never had that. She won't ever."

"It feels good to hear you say that," Stefan said softly, with a tense smile. Giulia shrugged.

"I know what people think of me," she said, glancing at him. "They're wrong." His smile was gentle and sad. She sighed heavily. "But if you think doping up on the hard stuff will give you an edge, then I'll help." She reached for the blood-bag, frowning thoughtfully. "Get me a shot-glass. You like cherries, don't you?"

"Yeah," Stefan said slowly, frowning bemusedly, retrieving a clean shot-glass from the bar. She poured a thimbleful of blood into the glass, plucking a cherry by the stalk out of her tub of fruit.

"Okay," she said thoughtfully, as Stefan sighed, peering into the shot-glass with a wince. She handed him the cherry. "You're going to knock that back, and then straight away eat the cherry. Focus on the flavour of the cherry, rather than the blood. How much you enjoy the fruit. You'll still know the blood's there but it's not the focus. And you're going to start telling me the names on your list."

"My–?"

"Your Ripper list," Giulia said. "As the Ripper you used to use those names to relive the pleasure you took from your kills; now you're going to use the guilt you felt about killing them when you got sober. Remember their names to keep in control. Make sure you don't add any more to the list."

Stefan sighed, the cogs whirring as he frowned from the shot-glass to the cherry. He glanced up at her. "You really think this could work?"

"It's worth a try," Giulia said, shrugging. "You can't ever say you didn't try. I think, maybe if you do this once a day, maybe a thimbleful every night for a month, and then steadily increase the volume, a little at a time over weeks and months, but keep filling the coffers with animal-blood."

"Weeks and months, huh?"

"Honey, all you have is time," Giulia said, pulling a face. "Not that I want to pressure a recovering addict to indulge, but…if you're going to do it..."

"No time like the present, right?" Stefan sighed, taking a deep breath, and he downed the blood. As the veins beneath his eyes flickered black, fangs briefly sharpening, he shoved the cherry in his mouth, closing his eyes as he fought to focus on the sweet, meaty taste of the ripe, sun-warmed cherry.

"Okay, now the names," she coaxed gently. Stefan plucked the cherry-stone from his mouth, eyes still closed, getting control of himself.

"Giuseppe Salvatore," he said quietly, exhaling shakily, the veins flickering again. He ground his jaw. "Mamie. Josephine. Peach. Roland. Hannah. Thomas and Honoria Fell… Jonathan Gilbert… Theodore and Elizabeth Lockwood… George Lockwood…" He exhaled slowly, opening his clear hazel eyes.

"Do you want to keep listing the names?"

"I'll save the next dozen for tomorrow," he said in a deadened tone, setting the shot-glass down upside-down. She fastened the blood-bag up; by the feel of it, it needed to go back into the deep chest-freezer in the basement. He pushed his fists into his jeans pockets, and he gave her an awkward smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Giulia nodded, glad when someone rang the antique bell. She didn't think anyone used the bell. Before she had moved out people just tended to invite themselves in to the Boarding House. She had to turn the porch light on, revealing Caroline on the doorstep.

"You've missed all the excitement," Giulia said, gesturing her over the threshold.

"Sorry I took so long," Caroline sighed, lugging a small suitcase inside. Giulia shrugged, taking the overnight-bag slung over her shoulder. "I didn't know how long Mom would be here to know what to pack." She glanced at Giulia as she closed the front-door, biting her tongue. Giulia arched an eyebrow, and smiled as Caroline let out a pent-up breath, "Does she really have to stay here in Damon's creepy vampire-cell, I mean, I can stay home with my mom and make sure she doesn't tell anyone, I'll unplug the phones, lock away her cell and we'll just watch Gilmore Girls for days!"

"I think Liz would prefer the cell," Giulia said, lips twitching, and Caroline sighed, shoulders drooping.

"I mean, I don't want my mom being a prisoner," Caroline said, gazing imploringly at her.

"Look, nobody wants to keep your mom locked up," Stefan said, taking the suitcase from Caroline. "But it's safest for everyone, including Liz, for her to just stay out of sight until we can fix this mess. Let's not forget, Mason pointed her at us, there's no way to tell if he won't take it out on her that she failed to kill us."

"I don't think Mason will try again," Giulia said. "He's doesn't seem the vengeful type."

"He just almost got us killed about six hours ago!" Stefan said, raising his eyebrows. Giulia kept an eye on him, wondering how much human blood triggered the dramatic Ripper-shift in his personality. She frowned, thinking she needed to update Lexi on their new undertaking if the worst came to the worst.

"In his defence, Damon did threaten him," Caroline said fairly, and Giulia nodded.

"And what if it was Katherine's idea," Stefan said, glancing at her. "He may not be a bad guy but he'd still do anything for her."

"Stefan, Katherine wants to climb you – not kill you," Giulia tutted.

"And how d'you know he'd do anything for Katherine?" Caroline asked curiously.

Stefan sighed, shaking his head. "Because I've been where Mason is. A hundred and fifty years ago, I was Mason."

"Right," Caroline sighed, wincing guiltily. "The tomb."

"Mm," Stefan pulled a face.

"Just leave Mason to me. We're meeting for a run Tuesday-morning, I'll try to talk to him," Giulia said. Stefan blinked at her.

"You're going to–"

"Go for a run with him, yes," Giulia nodded. "Caroline, what happens when you exercise?"

"You get endorphins!" Caroline beamed. "Endorphins make you happy."

"'Happy people just don't kill their husbands'," Giulia quoted, and Caroline giggled; Legally Blonde had been a favourite of Caroline's when they were twelve. Stefan looked like he was preventing himself from strangling them. "We'll go for a hard workout, get him on a natural high–"

"And then what?" Stefan asked, eyeing her dubiously.

"And then I'll talk to him," Giulia said simply. "It's amazing the power words have."

"Do you think you should be alone with him?" Stefan asked, frowning concernedly. "What if Katherine attacks you?"

"Before she's even introduced herself? Rude," Giulia sniffed. "Although, she'll probably want to rip out my vocal-cords after I talk to Mason." With a self-satisfied smirk, she led the way to the basement stairs. She could hear Damon chatting happily down in the cellar. She had moved the vervain plants out of the basement when she moved out of the Boarding House; there was a small greenhouse built onto the side of the freestanding carriage-house garage at her new home, and she enjoyed pottering about in there.

"…It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's secure," Damon said. "I brought a good bed camp and once the vervain is worked out of your system, I will compel you, you will forget everything and you will be a free woman."

"Keep Caroline away from me, please?" Liz's voice said, and Giulia glanced up at Caroline, who had stiffened. "I don't want to see her."

"She's your daughter, Liz," Damon said, his tone fair and cajoling. By the way she was standing, Giulia thought Damon might have seen Caroline, at least a flicker of her blonde hair in the awful lighting down here.

"Not anymore," Liz said, her voice throaty. "My daughter's gone."

Damon's voice was almost gentle, when he said, "You have no idea how wrong you are about that." Caroline turned, her expression closed off as she made her way back upstairs silently. Giulia glanced at Stefan, who nodded and took the overnight bag from her. She followed Caroline upstairs, finding her deflated on the sofa.

"She hates me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Giulia said gently, wrapping her arm around Caroline's shaking shoulders. "She loves you; she'd take bullets for you. So would I. Not in the head. Maybe in the leg or something." Caroline sniffled and gave a small, watery laugh. "She just found out six hours ago that she…she failed. She failed to protect you. And now because the Council's working off out-of-date information, she thinks you've changed. She thinks you're the spawn of Satan… And people think I'm the bad influence!"

"Stop trying to make me laugh," Caroline sniffed, with a tremulous smile. "You're not going to make me feel better."

"You always say that," Giulia smiled. "And I always do."

"Yeah," Caroline sighed, shaking her head. She wiped her eyes, tossing her curls back. "I should probably write a grocery list, you guys have, like, nothing to eat in this house. And have we synchronised our diaries? You have so much going on, it's ridiculous. Are you staying here tonight, I don't really want to leave my mom here on her own. Are you really going to just take Mason for a run and convince him to stand down?"

"Like the doggy terminology," Giulia smirked. She sighed. Given that Caroline was on the cusp of a mini-meltdown – lists were the first clue, Filofax updating being the second, her frighteningly chipper mood the most obvious – she couldn't very well leave her to smother her mother with concern while Liz waited out the customary time it took to get vervain out of the blood-system. Liz might just end up staking her to slow Caroline down; when Caroline had a meltdown no cobweb, Calculus problem or event vendor was safe. "I just need to fire off a few texts. Do you want to get a head-start on the basement?"

"Mm. It's too nice to stay indoors," Caroline mused. "Don't you have those old converted barns? I'm sure your dad hoarded all his favourite junk in there, like his guns."

"Dad only kept one in the house, and it's still under his mattress," Giulia said, shrugging. Caroline frowned subtly at her.

"Have you gone through your dad's things?" she asked quietly. "I mean, your dad had quite a classic style, I'm sure the local charity-stores would really appreciate the donation."

"Caroline," Giulia warned; she hadn't been in her father's room since his death. But she smiled, glancing at her best-friend. "There is something I want to show you. I found it the other day when I was looking for some tools."

"Ooh, what?" Caroline grinned.

"Damon! We're going to the barn!" Giulia called, knowing he'd hear her. She showed Caroline out of the house, through the airy breakfast-room painted with Chinoiserie and birds into the tempered-glass conservatory filled with lush greenery fed by timed sprinklers, out onto the sweeping patio and down into the grounds. The Gilberts and the Forbes families had moved on from their ancestral mansions, antebellum plantation-houses giving way to four-bedroom new builds with a wraparound porch and a good-sized yard for paddling-pools and cookouts. The Lockwoods had their neatly manicured mansion, elegant and calculated, a physical manifestation of everything they wanted people to believe their family was. The Salvatore property was sprawling, wild and natural, left to its own devices but for a few trees threatening either the house or the outbuildings. These outbuildings, now-defunct coach-houses tucked out of sight, some old barns from back when the great estate had still been self-sufficient with enormous kitchen-gardens and livestock, were dotted around the woods, the meadows, sheds falling down by the creek – there were no slave-quarters; Salvatores hadn't owned slaves since the Civil War, but someone, maybe Damon, most likely Damon, had put up tiny two-room houses, really no more than shacks now, for the people who had historically worked on their land. The shacks were small and quaint, with potential, most of them overgrown with honeysuckle or clematis, the porches rotted away.

It was to the old stables Giulia led Caroline. Derelict, they were still beautiful, built out of redbrick like the house, the roof tiled, wild jasmine and Virginia creeper and honeysuckle growing all over them; the stable archways were double-width, most of the gates long-disintegrated, and she knew her dad had been making plans to replace the ancient tarps with doors over each of them. He'd embedded huge spikes into the ground, the cords of the tarpaulins knotted around to keep them down over the winter, and she unknotted the one she wanted, Caroline helping her fold it back out of the way, so the dying sun shone hotly through into the murky, dusty stable.

"Isn't this your dad's place?" Caroline asked. A long time ago, the stables had been vacated of horses to inter dead cars. Her uncle Joshua's Impala, made pathetic by neglect, and, it had made her almost cry when she had peeled the dust-sheets away, a pristine Aston Martin DB5, which had belonged, like Giulia's Beetle, to her grandmother Doll. The Salvatore boys were car-lovers. Damon's Camaro, Stefan's Porsche. Even her dad had loved his vintage Oldsmobile – his dad's favourite car. Uncle Joshua had lived in his Impala. Giulia loved her Beetle, and was devoted to setting some time aside to give her the works after neglecting her over the winter. The stables, turned into a sort of garage, had become the place Giulia knew she could always find her dad. In his teen years, it had been the place he and his brother Joshua used to hang out – there were still faded, tattered posters on the walls, a broken-in sofa, the detritus of teenage-boys from the Eighties – and a long workbench running the length of the furthest stall was where her dad had kept all his carpentry tools. There was a half-finished fishing-boat in one of the stables; and she pulled a dust-sheet off a small, domed structure in another. The frame was rusted, and it needed a lot of work.

"Aw, it's cute!" Caroline blurted, smiling, her eyes twinkling. "What is it?"

"So this is a vintage teardrop caravan," Giulia smiled. It really was tiny; it would fit into Caroline's dad's enormous luxury RV multiple times over, and Giulia could stretch out in it only if she lay down diagonally. Her dad used to let her play in it when she was little, while he tinkered about with his tools, fixing the chain back on her bicycle. "I think my uncle bought it in England. He and my dad hitched it to a car they bought in France after high-school and they drove around Europe with it."

She had listened to his stories of his adventures with his brother Joshua, inspired. Giulia used to talk about her and Caroline going on an insanely fun post-graduation backpacking trip across the US. Camping out under the stars, whores' baths in truck-stop restroom sinks, amazing street-food, riding every rollercoaster they came across, visiting museums, partying at night, hiking insanely beautiful, barren trails, riding horses through Wyoming countryside, take a helicopter ride through the Grand Canyon, driving down the California coast, seeing glaciers and flower-strewn prairies and extraordinary natural monuments. During and after college she wanted to do Europe and Asia, South America.

"Wow," Caroline said, grimacing guiltily as she tried the tiny door, and it came off in her hand. "I swear, I didn't use vamp-strength! I can smell the rust."

"I believe you," Giulia chuckled. "I don't think my dad touched it in over twenty years, just like the Impala. I think he was still hoping Joshua would come home and fix it all up himself."

"That's kinda sad," Caroline said softly. "You never talk about your uncle."

"I never met him," Giulia shrugged. "I think he went missing before Dad even met my mother. But, I remembered this the other day, and, I don't know, I thought about making a project of it. You know, renovating it… I figured a bookshelf in there with a radio and two little cupboards for clean panties, and here…" She carefully lifted up the back hatch of the teardrop, which rose creakily to reveal a tiny galley with small cupboards and a twin-burner gas stove. "Minibar."

"So your dad and his brother actually both fit in here to sleep?" Caroline chuckled, peering inside, rolling her eyes at Giulia's ideas.

"In bad weather, I'm sure they made do," Giulia smiled, peering into the tiny trailer as well.

"So what inspired this project?" Caroline asked, with a gleam in her eye. Caroline couldn't resist projects, no matter how un-girly. Sanding and screwdrivers weren't exactly her thing, but Giulia had figured she wouldn't be afraid of getting splinters anymore.

"Well…with your mom coming off vervain, maybe you could compel her to give you permission to trail our way across the US this summer," Giulia grinned, and Caroline laughed. "I think it'd be cool."

"So cool!" Caroline beamed. "Only, you know my dad would want to inspect every inch of it before he'd ever let us leave town, especially if we were supposed to be living out of it."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Usually, I'd get a flat-out 'I don't think so' from you when I suggested backpacking our way across the country by ourselves," she said, smiling softly, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the dying sun.

"Yeah, well…things change," Caroline smiled.

"I know," Giulia smiled warmly. With the hot weather, summer had suddenly seemed not so very far away; Caroline had been dropping hints. She had been talking about learning how to rock-climb. Spelunking. She wanted to go white-water rafting. Hike hidden mountain-trails. Take cooking classes. Go to cult music-festivals. Camp out under the stars. With immediate access to a curling-iron, of course.

Caroline had always listened to her talking about their backpacking trip, struggling to find any enthusiasm, secretly anxious at the idea of going it alone. Giulia had always known it, though. But that girl was gone. A new strength had been tempered, polished in Caroline. It shone within her. She wanted to be that bold, adventurous girl with a spine of steel who said the right thing, stood by her friends, inspired admiration in everyone who met her.

"I was hoping you'd mention the cross-country trip," Caroline smiled gently. "I've – been thinking about it. About how much fun it would be."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Giulia asked, laughing.

"Because – because it was your thing," Caroline said. "You know, you always seemed so excited by it, you made it sound like an adventure. And I was really nervous about even thinking about going by ourselves. But it's something you want to do, and I…I don't think we should wait 'til we graduate. I mean, I've been looking into festivals and camp-sites and amazing things to do all over the country and the National Parks, but – I don't want to take it over, you know? It's your thing, you always wanted to do it, I just…want to do it with you."

"You really mean it?" Giulia asked seriously. Caroline paused, then nodded, smiling.

"Yeah. I really mean it," she said softly. "I mean, you always go along with everything I want to do, even though I know you'd sometimes rather just slit your own throat–" Giulia chuckled, and Caroline smiled apologetically, "–but, you know…I want…to remember doing this."

"Hey, I didn't say anything about sobriety," Giulia said, holding her hands up. Caroline laughed.

"You know what I mean," she smiled. "I just…I don't want to look back and wish I'd done these things. I…I don't have anything to be afraid of. And think of the scrapbooking possibilities."

"Oh Christ," Giulia swore, shaking her head as Caroline giggled. "You know…I wanted to do this trip with you. So…of course you can look up stuff we should do."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Giulia smiled. "You think up doing things I never would."

"So do you," Caroline said brightly, and Giulia smiled. "Okay. Okay! So, it's like a deal? We just have to get my mom's permission to go? I'm not really very good at any of this DIY stuff, so, we may need to recruit other people to help if we want this finished by June. I love that you're distracting me from my mom being locked in a dungeon with DIY."

"I know you too well," Giulia smiled. Give Caroline a list of things to accomplish and she was golden.

"Okay, well, I need to get my camera and take some pictures and I'll grab some interior-decorating magazines at the grocery-store – you're coming with me, right? – and I'm sure there are sites online we can resource to design the refurb," Caroline said, and Giulia blinked as Caroline vamp-speeded out of sight, returning two minutes later (by Giulia's watch) with her little purple camera, snapping pictures of the dilapidated trailer.

The shadow of Liz being in the dungeon niggled at them, but it didn't override everything; Caroline was happy, distracted for the moment, already babbling about retro trailer outfitters, paint-trims, upholstery and the benefit of a refrigerator versus the annoyance of a generator. They had to really think about what they would need to take with them, designing creative storage for the tiny trailer, sourcing a table and chairs to eat at, emergency supplies, "and what if it does rain?"

"We'll get an awning," Giulia promised her casually.

"That's a good idea," Caroline nodded, sat at the huge table on the patio with her Filofax open on her knees, jotting notes down in candlelight as Giulia lit more tea-lights and the fat candles inside glass lanterns. It was too warm to sit indoors; there was the faint sound of cicadas and night-song from birds, the gentle rush of the breeze through the new leaves. "How are we gonna pack it? You'll have to clean out all the crap from your car – can it even make it to the State lines, let alone around the US?"

"I'll make sure it does," Giulia smiled. "Taking the Beetle would limit the amount of crap we take with us."

"Right. Necessities – and playing-cards. Maybe Bananagrams," Caroline mused. "Cuticle cream and sunscreen, obviously."

"I love your idea of essentials," Giulia chuckled.

"Hey, I'm a vampire, I won't need painkillers or blister-packs or tampons!" Caroline grinned. "And you're so tough you wouldn't go to Meredith unless your spine was hanging out."

"I'm not that tough," Giulia laughed.

"You know what I mean," Caroline sighed. "Are we still spring-cleaning the house? Seems more like an ongoing task than a project and if we want the trailer done by June…"

"I might just work on the house whenever I have the time," Giulia said, plucking her sticky t-shirt away from her stomach. "Or get the guys to do some of it, half the stuff they probably tracked back into the house over the years anyway."

"What're you guys talking about?" Damon asked, strolling outside, a fresh bourbon in hand.

"We're planning a trip," Caroline beamed.

It was strange, what happened. Damon plopped down at the table beside Caroline, and even Stefan appeared with one of his leather-bound journals. Someone produced an old stereo and some CDs, Damon made them drinks, and they snacked on the leftovers Giulia had pilfered from the picnic, and they all…chatted. Hung out, as if…as if they were…friends.

It was alarming and lovely. Just sitting in the candlelight, drinking and snacking and writing lists of the places the boys would recommend were worth a visit. Things to see, places to eat, neighbourhoods to avoid, people to call on, bars amazing for live-music, wonderful random places. The boys…relaxed – they told stories, about their individual adventures, about the rare occasions they had met – and been on good terms – making them laugh and keeping Caroline enthralled, eyes glittering in the candlelight as she diligently made notes, her imagination whirring with the possibilities.


A.N.: Hi guys. So, bit of a tangent. I was on Pinterest and got inspired, I thought, Caroline and Giulia on a road-trip with a tiny trailer. That sounds so awesome. I also have plans for Liz and Mason – not like that, guys! Things will start to diverge again…