I'm sorry for the late update, not good for the second update really is it? I had planned to update a few days ago and then I caught...who the hell knows? I'm just aware it felt like crap. Somebody mentioned my grammar wasn't great and I would just like to say I noticed one mistake where I had put 'look' instead of 'luck' but other than that nothing glaringly stood out to me. That's one of the things I love about grammar though, you learn something new everyday. The timeline for the vampire diaries flashbacks will be slightly off so let's just pretend Klaus and CO weren't in New Orleans around 1830, okay? Great we have an understanding. Anyway, it's currently 21:41, let's see how long it takes me to finish this baby. Damn, I'm kinda scared.

The vampire diaries belongs to it's fabulous owners and I claim no right to it. However, Tessa is of my own creation and therefor I am her owner ;-)

Please review, I seriously take to heart what you guys say and without reviews it's also really hard to improve and promote my fanfictions.

Once I had exited the bar I really did run, in fact I sprinted in my pretty flats all the way back to my quaint new lodgings. I ignored every curious stare I got, my heart pounded the entire way and only once in the confines of my house did I breath in deeply with a feeling of false security. In the one hundred and ninety nine (nearly two hundred) years I had been alive, never had I once met anyone who knew my identity since I left. To suddenly have found myself in the arms of a certain blue eyed god, well, that had left me in more than slightly panicked.

With my back against the door, I turned the brass key in its lock and then shook my head. I was Tessa Westwood, immortal, unkillable and certainly not scared off by one small little hiccup in my meaningless existence. If blue eyes wants to be an omniscient douche bag then that's his decision, but I'm certainly not going to ruin what's going to be a great couple of years in Mystic Falls. I had a job as press intervention for the police force, Sheriff Forbes was one of the kindest (if not scariest) people I had ever met and even her bubbly daughter didn't seem too bad.

Dropping my bag onto the kitchen top I rolled my eyes at my previous stupidness, I always saw the worst in situations and a little optimism could do me good. I picked up the landline and almost a few seconds later the Sheriff's voice filled the device, modern technology never ceases to amaze me.

"Hello?" her voice called out.

"Sheriff Forbes, it's Tessa Westwood," I said, probably sounding fake like most people did over phones. I probably need to buy one of them portable ones soon or my social communication is really going to go down hill.

"Ah Miss Westwood, Caroline rang and said she saw you at the grill." I froze slightly, did Caroline tell her exactly what happened at the grill?

"Did she now?" I said as pleasantly as I could.

"Yes, well anyway, I know I said I was planning on this being a monday to friday office job but then I realised they are way too many loopholes for the press to get stories out after nine to five. So could it be on-call? The hours would be much better and you could work from home, you will have an office but you won't have to use it."

I gulped, "don't you need a…" I thought for a moment "mobile phone to be on-call?" I almost wanted to facepalm, I could keep up with the latest offendable words (douche, slag, twat as they say in England) but when it came to technology I was really failing.

"You don't own a cell phone?" she said in disbelief.

"It broke!" I said a tad too quickly.

"Right, well if you can get one soon that would be great, otherwise we can supply one. And I noticed you had a licence but you didn't request a parking permit, being on-call does, as a general rule, mean able to be gotten hold of and at a situation within a time limit."

I could drive and I did have a licence, I just didn't do so very often. "Well...I can drive, it's just I don't own a car right now. I previously lived in England, I didn't think owning a right hand side car would do me any good. I'm planning to go out tomorrow and buy a car...can you email me the taxi number?"

"I have a better idea, I'll send my friend over, Damon Salvatore. He should be able to drive you about and he's around your age, you should make some friends." Yeah, my fake age.

"Sounds good, tell him eleven, otherwise I'm finding that taxi number."

I put the phone down finding the situation a tad odd, with a sigh and shook my head and began pulling a few pans out of the cupboard to make my dinner with. I had just set the kettle to boil when I heard a sharp knock on the front door, wiping my hands clean I looked myself over in the mirror and once satisfied I opened the door, only to feel the strong urge to shut it again.

"Hello love," a distinctly english voice said.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite blue eyes, blonde haired friend."

"Friend? When I last saw the Tessa I knew she threw a dagger at my head and fled the night," he chuckled and my mind blurred for a second, I remembered running away from the Manor, but I didn't remember him.

"I've never met you in my life, and trust me when I say it's been a long one. Now why don't you run along and leave me be," I said with unmasked fury across my face.

He seemed to test the threshold of my doorway before stepping inside, then evaluated my surroundings before deeming them appropriate and sitting himself down on my cream cashmere couch. I couldn't help but notice the small bit of dirt his brown boots left on my expensive cream rug, my living room had cream furnishing with dark brown flooring and walls. I didn't like people coming in and messing up the little perfection I had managed to create in the small house.

Slamming my door, I walked into what I thought was my private home and took a seat on the armchair across from him.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't call the police," I knew I should have called them as soon as he sat down, but something intrigued me and besides, I couldn't die.

"That framed photo beside the doorway is of the Westwood family and staff in front of Westwood mansion, taken around 1831. You're fifteen in that photo, you'd just been betrothed to a rich count, miles away from your home in Yorkshire. Your father's name was Louis Westwood, you had two elder brothers called Harvey and Luther, a mother called Elvira, your two younger sisters were known as Eleanor and Genevieve and if I'm right, the newborn was a Charles. The butler was a french man called Maurice and you at the time was the pride of the family, by marrying the count you had made their social status climb." The man looked so certain of himself, I had to release a breath.

"What's your name?"

"You really don't know do you? I'm Niklaus Mikaelson," he put out his hand and I was ready to shake it when he brought it up to his lips. I swallowed and the heat from his gaze had me almost hypnotised, "everyone calls me Klaus, but you called me Nik." He smirked slightly.

I breathed in deeply, and snatched my hand away. "Nik is a far nicer nickname."

"That's what you said." He sat back lazily and looked up at me.

I stood up abruptly, to my pleasure throwing him slightly off guard and went to get myself a glass of water, due to it being open plan, he watched me with an amused expression. I turned off what was going to be my dinner but after him watching me for several minutes I became irritated.

"What?" I snapped, flipping my blonde hair over my shoulder as I searched for a glass in my kitchen.

"Nothing love, you just haven't changed. Aren't you going to offer your guest a drink?" I could almost feel his smirk in my back and became suddenly conscious of how short my dress would be while I reached to the utmost shelf.

I flew around, my eyebrows knitted and a stormy glare on my face. I placed the glass he had watched me struggle to fetch next to the chrome sink and smiled an obviously fake smile. My hands gripped the edge of the thick white quartz worktops that separated me and him.

"Nik, would you like a drink?"

"Do you have alcohol?"

"I do, only it's on the top shelf because I don't drink it. Fetch it yourself blondie, being five foot four isn't plain sailing." He chuckled but to my surprise did as he was told and easily got everything he needed, not that I even knew what he was using, it was only for the rare guest I received.

With a sigh I refused to face the man who I felt an undeniable attraction towards, even though I knew he was dangerous and his timeline someone mixed with mine which confused me more than I would care to admit. It made it very obvious that for once, I wasn't the oldest thing in the room. This man, Niklaus Mikaelson, was like me. With a sign I rubbed the ache forming in my head.

"I believe you," my statement was barely audible but he heard.

"Thank you Tessamine."

"My names Tessa."

"So it seems." He hummed and knocked back his glass of...bourbon, then he promptly poured himself another.

Hey guys! So it 23:36 and I was planning to write a hell of a lot more but then I found that this a really nice place to end so was like, who cares, like really? I know Klaus seems a bit OOC at the moment but the first time he saw Tessa he was more than shocked cause he thought she was dead (and no, I don't have a plot hole, yes he knew she run away and yes he thought she was dead), the second reason is that he was alone with her after nearly two centuries. He's bound to be a bit out of sorts. As for Liz getting Damon to help Tessa get a car, let's just say she has her doubts about Tessa's identity.

Constructive criticism is fairplay, flames are not! Let's be friends guys! Hope to see a review or two.

Mina x