Returning back into the cool autumn air, Sky shrugged her scarf closer around her neck, in some kind of feeble attempt to allow the bruise marks from Klaus' hands to fade away. Almost immediately she could feel her ribcage fixing itself, yet still she walked gingerly back along the high street. To her surprise, Sheriff Forbes was still at her car outside The Grill, fumbling awkwardly with her phone on her belt. Sky watched her intently: her honey skin and brown almond eyes seemed almost hazy against the harsh and cold white sky. Birds circled against the pearly louds, and in that moment Sky allowed herself to be calm. Before too long, Liz glanced up, and their eyes locked amidst the crowded street of chattering teenagers and sobbing children.

Crossing over to her, Sky noticed how Liz placed a bit of hair behind her ear, glancing shyly at the ground. As she closened, Sky's throat tightened; acknowledging her scent of blood pulsating through her very exposed neck. Dismissing it with a deep breath, she flashed her dangerous smile, and waiting for Liz to become undazzled by it.

"Are you busy this morning?" Liz stammered, gazing intently at the vampire.

"Not at all," Sky shruggled, glancing vaguely at the street, listening to Damon chug away in the restaurant across from them, and deciding he could probably spare her for a few hours.

"There's this place I like to go… It's nothing reall,y I just thought that… maybe you would…"

"Sure," Sky said, cutting across her, and smiling.

They set off away from the high street, and Liz noted Sky's slight limp, the tightness of her fist as she held her waist, the grimace on her face with each step.

"You alright? You seem in pain–"

"Please, don't trouble yourself, it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Only I–"

"Sheriff, please, it's honestly fine."

Liz hesitated, stealing a glance at the woman beside her. Despite the politeness, the glimmer of mischief in her eyes, and the undeniable kindness in her eloquent speech, Liz could not help but hear a biting bitterness in her tone, as if somehow Sky would rather be otherwise occupied, or at least, not reveal too much about herself. For some reason the idea that Sky was not enjoying her company was positively hideous, and seemed to sprout from the pit of her stomach and burn her insides like acid. She bit it back, and carried on talking best she could. Sure enough, Sky responded politely enough, though she never ventured further, never divulging anything of herself, rather subtely turning the conversation back to Liz, Liz's job, Liz's experience, her daughter, her town.

They arrived outside a coffee shop that Sky hadn't seen before. It was small, and certainly cosy: and looked straight out of the 1930s, with beautiful mahogany furniture, large glass panes and homemade cakes and odd china teacups. Sky looked interestingly at Liz for an explanation.

"Whenever I'm working nights I tend to get my coffee here. It's quieter than the Grill – gives me time to think."

Inside it was positively adorable, with vintage posters hanging on the wall, and bunches of dried lavender and sunflowers dangling like bunting from the ceiling. There was even a man in his twenties playing on a mandolin in the corner, humming to himself. Sky smiled, and sat down, requesting a small coffee from the friendly waiter, who clearly knew Liz well. It was interesting to see Liz interact with other people; she had a readiness and softness in her eyes that Sky could not see when they spoke to each other – with others Liz became soft as water. Deliberating on this for only a moment, before Liz turned to her taking a deep breath.

"I didn't really get a chance to say… before Carol showed up… I wanted to say thank you for saving my life. Really, I know I may have seen ungrateful at the time…"

"Please," Sky said, dismissing her with a lazy wave of her hand, "I wasn't going to let you die."

Liz smiled weakly, taking a sip of her coffee

"This place is just lovely," Sky said after a few moments of awkward silence, "I can see why you like to go here."

"Well," Liz said, as an afterthought, "I imagine it's nothing special given the incredible things you must have seen in your time as a… as a vampire."

Sky looked thoughtful, "Well, it's still a fruit of the glory of human life, there is no denying that. So in that sense, I am content," she took a swig of her coffee.

Liz bit her lip, and began, "May I ask–"

"You can ask me anything."

"When were you born?"

Sky paused. "I'm not exactly sure, but most likely 1160."

"That makes you… what? 850?"

"Eight hundred and fifty four in October," she said, smiling politely.

Liz looked staggered. After the Originals, she was the oldest vampire to ever have come across.

"What was it like back then?"

"Generally speaking oppressive. But I loved my family, and we danced a lot. That's all I really remember, lots of dancing and food and music. But also a lot of cold, poverty and disease. It wasn't exactly a civilised time, and there was little social mobility, and indeed science was in the hands of religious men or philosophers."

"Where did you come from?"

Finishing the dregs of her coffee, Sky stared at her before saying "I was born into a territory of land now part of south Scotland. My father was the leader of the tribe, or more specifically the clan that lived there – we were essentially what royalty is now."

Liz was shocked. "Royalty? Really? That's incredible!"

"I was blessed with a comfortable life in many respects."

"So how did… how did you become a vampire?"

Almost immediately Sky's face hardened, and turned an ugly ashen grey. She twirled the coffee cup awkwardly, and bit her lip as if she was deliberating best how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry, I overstepped a line–" Liz said quickly, mortified at the look on Sky's face.

"No, please…" Sky mumbled, "It's a reasonable question, only for now I'm not wholly comfortable with answering it.

Liz knew that any vampire's transition was surely a traumatic experience, especially given her own daughter had been murdered before she was turned. Her thirst for knowledge about Sky seemed to be clouding her judgement, and corrupting her body.

"You'll have to forgive me, I just… I'm interested in you. I'd like to get to know you."

Sky looked confused, "Why?"

Liz fumbled for the words crawling aimlessly down her mind. There was a sharp pain in her temples. "That's what friends do, right? They learn things about each other, what they like, what they dislike…"

Sky smirked, "We're friends now, are we?" in a new-found icy tone that Liz hated.

"Is that not what you want?"

Sky looked to her left before beginning, "I'm always very… careful about my attachment to humans. It would be a little futile to embark on a friendship with you. You are, after all, as temporary as the seasons."

Irritated, she snapped, "then why exactly did you kill the men that shot me? Why did you not let the bullet kill me?"

Sky's expression changed, and for a moment Liz was certain that hurt had crossed her face, but it disappeared as soon as it had arrived, and Sky's composure was almost terrifying. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." She bit every syllable, as if she had acid in her throat. Liz knew she had crossed a line.

Liz nodded breathlessly, feeling sweat slide down the back of her neck as Sky's green eyes seemed to burn her skin. Her hands and legs were shaking. Sky listened to her elevated heartbeat and quickened breath with interest, but not enough to comfort her. Instead, she stood up, and apologised but said she must go. Liz was silently infuriated, but nodded, and watched her leave, and waited for her to turn and smile, or wave, or something.

She didn't.