Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries or any of its characters.

Chapter 3: Worldly Welcome

Katherine looked up from her computer at the sound of Marcel knocking on her open office door. He was dressed in one of his customary fitted suits with a matching blue dress shirt and silver tie.

"Ready to go?" he asked. Katherine knitted her eyebrows in confusion and glanced down at her open planner. As far as she knew, she didn't have anything scheduled for the rest of the day.

"Go where? I don't have any more meetings today," she responded.

"Well, you do now. Today's the lunch meeting with Elijah and he expects you to be there, too." She'd completely forgotten about the lunch meeting Elijah mentioned he'd planned with Marcel.

"Why me?" Despite already knowing the answer to that, Katherine still wanted to hear an answer from Marcel. "This is your deal. I have nothing to do with it. Why do I need to be there?"

Marcel leveled Katherine with a look that screamed of his barely contained annoyance. "Because after that dinner, he now sees you as an extension of me. And since he wants to include you in our meeting, he's obviously agreed to sign with me. Now, if you're done wasting time with your questions, we need to get moving before we're late."

Katherine was used to his obnoxiousness by now, and most days it prompted her to lash out at him with a snarky reply in return. Not long after being hired, she'd discovered that while his nauseating self-assuredness and open condescension to his employees gave the impression that he was not one with which to be trifled, a little testing of the waters revealed to Katherine just how much of her retaliated sass he could tolerate before it crossed the line into unforgivable insubordination.

Today, though, was different. Her usual desire to cut him with her words died down into a feeling of concealed triumph. Marcel thought he was walking into a sure victory. Little did he know that Elijah had zero plans to sign with him. The thought of it gave her a great amount of satisfaction. Seeing the smug bastard turned down by Elijah was sure to be the highlight of her week. "Of course, Marcel," she answered in a sickeningly sweet tone. "Let me just grab my jacket." Had Marcel been slightly more astute, he would have realized something was off as soon as she gave that response instead of her usual cheeky one.

They were dropped off at the bistro by Marcel's company town car. Katherine let Marcel lead the way to the table where he'd spotted Elijah already seated. She glanced at him. He was occupied by something he was staring at on his cell phone and hadn't noticed them walk into the restaurant.

After their conversation that night, she was left wondering. He had been so reserved until he'd thrown her that curveball about wanting to know her better. She wasn't actually surprised—plenty of those belonging to the male species put up an aloof facade despite their true feelings for the opposite sex. Most were either socially inept or simply arrogant, only the latter of which she found worth humoring. She was quite familiar with the game of cat and mouse, and had never before shied away from rising to the challenge and then crushing their hearts. It was just that the way Elijah had looked at her had seemed so inexplicably pure of heart. It was admiring yet bashful—a combination that is entirely rare in this part of the city. Most men looked at her like they wanted to devour her, not get to know her. He had looked at her like he was trying his hardest to figure her out, and then some.

He was calculated, though, she could tell. He had a coolness that he kept trained on his features and a schooled composure he kept intact at all times. If there is anything she'd learned from her past, it is that those capable of hiding their feelings best are usually deserving of the most scrutiny, for it is those same people that have the most to hide. Anyone who took a moment to notice more than just her superficial looks would realize that she wore this same mask of indifference, as well. There was just one, very clear difference between herself and the others, though. While their look of composure was meant as a mask necessary in order to achieve their ulterior motives, hers was only a mask meant to help her detect these deceivers and protect herself from their inevitable betrayal.

Just as Marcel and Katherine neared the table, Elijah glanced up from his phone. He spotted Marcel first and his eyes landed on her next, the only hint of him being pleased to see her appearing in the light of his eyes. "Marcel, Mrs. Gilbert, nice to see you again," he said, shaking each of their hands. "I'm glad you could make it," he directed at her. The grip of his hand around hers was gentle but firm and his eyes shined in her direction. A thrilled feeling jolted through her body.

"It seems you made it so I didn't have a choice," she said to him in a low voice so Marcel, who was taking his seat at the table, couldn't hear. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that Elijah had called Marcel and asked for her to be there on purpose. Marcel would never refuse a potential client's request, and she wasn't stupid to think Elijah didn't already know that.

Elijah opened his mouth to object but Katherine gave him a pointed look, not giving him a chance to reply, and then took her seat next to Marcel. Elijah followed suit, seating himself across the pair.

Lunch was pleasant enough, and any discussion of the deal was studiously avoided by all three dining parties. Katherine quickly picked up on the fact that Elijah wasn't Marcel's biggest fan. Something about his body language told her he could barely stand the guy, and if it wasn't for the politeness so ingrained in him and the lady present at the table, he probably wouldn't be humouring Marcel's attempts to engage him in conversation.

More importantly, though, she noticed that Elijah seemed to have changed his tune from the last time they had dined together. He had eyes only for her, and instead of pretending not to notice her, this time he attempted to fully engage her in the conversation. Even when Marcel brought up stories about their old adventures, Elijah would aim the conversation directly at her, completely ignoring Marcel, and as if he meant to tell the story to her alone.

She had to admit, though, some of their stories were hilarious and she couldn't help but laugh along. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Elijah Mikaelson?" she would interject between laughs. The thought of Elijah being anything less than calm and composed in a clean, crisp suit was just too funny to pretend otherwise. Every time she'd laugh, she could see Elijah's eyes light up and his grin stretch even wider, as if the sound of her laughter pleased him immensely. And every time he did so, she'd feel that same jolt in her stomach.

Marcel seemed to be in exceptionally high spirits, most probably due to his delusion of Elijah accepting his offer. If it were any other person, she would probably feel a tinge of pity for the rejection she knew was about to come. But, she reminded herself, this was Marcel—pompous, condescending, and suffering from delusions of grandeur. He deserved to be knocked down a peg or two every once and a while. It would do wonders for his humility.

Their lunch hour was almost over when Marcel finally brought up the subject. Katherine looked on in interest, curious to see if Elijah would do what he'd told her he'd do.

"Marcel," Elijah started, finally addressing him directly for the first time. "I've taken your deal into thoughtful consideration." His eyes darted to Katherine's face for a quick second. "And I'm afraid Mikaelson Corp. is just not ready to accept your offer at this point in time. I do apologize."

Katherine glanced sideways to look at Marcel's reaction. His previously smiling face had at once transformed to radiate his discontent. He obviously wasn't pleased.

"Elijah," Marcel said after a moment, leaning into the table. His voice had a hard edge to it, though he was trying hard to conceal his anger. "I know you think you're doing what you think is best for the company, but I'm telling you, you're making a huge mistake. Your company is taking off and the best thing you can do for it is to trust someone like me to represent to it." He sat back in his chair again, an air of smugness suddenly washing over his face, before saying deliberately, "It's just a shame the company has to suffer as a result of an unwise decision. I'm sure if Klaus were here he'd agree with me."

"Marcel," Katherine admonished in a low voice. Sure, Marcel was a smug, obnoxious bastard on any given day, but since when did he stoop to insulting clients to their face?

Elijah looked wholly unaffected—bored, even. He looked to Katherine. "Don't worry, Ms. Gilbert. Unfortunately, such a reaction from your boss does not at all surprise me, especially after all these years." He aimed his gaze back at Marcel this time. "Marcellus," he said in a borderline patronizing tone. He took his time re-folding his napkin and then placing it back on the table."You know very well that I am the one who oversees all of the company's business operations and any business moves made by my company are entirely up to my discretion." He stared straight at Marcel and Katherine could see the dangerous glint in his eye.

"Don't bother with your naive attempts to pit my brother against me, Marcel, because, I assure you, it won't work. It didn't work back then, and it certainly won't work now." Well, this story just got a lot more interesting, thought Katherine. "Klaus and I both trust each other fully with each of our assigned duties. Are you really so foolish as to believe that Klaus would ever side with you over me?" Elijah's condescension was unmistakable, now. Marcel looked like he was about to start up again before Elijah swiftly cut him off. "The partnership I have with my brother is unshakeable." He leaned in closer to the table. "And you'd be very wise to remember that."

Marcel narrowed his eyes and quickly stood up from the table. "Have it your way, then, Elijah," Marcel gritted out through his teeth. "But don't come running to me when you're company's in the shithole and you can't figure out how to fix it." He stalked out of the restaurant, not even caring that he'd left Katherine behind.

Katherine watched him stalk out of the restaurant and then slowly turned to look at Elijah. He was already staring straight at her, an entertained grin now shaping his mouth.

"Well, that was awkward."

"I agree," he replied.

"I don't think your friendship will ever recover."

"I'll get over it," he laughed.

She sat back and crossed her arms. This time, it was her turn to narrow her eyes at him. "You enjoyed all of that, didn't you?"

"Every last minute." His eyes held an uncharacteristic hint of mischief that she found entirely irresistible.

"Mr. Mikaelson, you shock me," she smirked.

"But are you pleased with me?"

"I'm afraid it would be unprofessional of me to say. He is my boss, after all."

"Yes, how could I forget. How terribly unfortunate for you, Ms. Gilbert," he laughed.

She smirked in response. "Well, since you already went ahead and made me a co-conspirator in this little—whatever the heck this was—I think I deserve to at least be on a first-name basis with you, wouldn't you agree, Elijah?" she said, the last part coming out as a challenge.

"I completely agree, Katherine," he matched. Damn that smile of his, she thought, and damn him for making her name sound like that.

She leaned forward again, resting her forearms on the tabletop. "You know, I didn't actually think you'd go through with it."

"What I told you that evening was the truth. I wouldn't lie to you, Katherine." How was it possible for him to make her name sound like that, dammit? This first-name basis thing was going to be a real bitch.

"Maybe not. But why would you even tell me what you were planning on doing in the first place? You knew me for what, all of five seconds?"

He chuckled before responding, "It was an hour and twenty minutes, to be precise," to which Katherine rolled her eyes.

"You're avoiding the question," she reminded him.

"What question?" So now, apparently, he wanted to play dumb.

"Why did you—"

"Oh yes, yes," he cut her off. "Why did I tell you?" He shrugged his shoulder. "Well, there's just something about you." She raised her eyebrows at that.

"Just something about me?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yes, just something about you." He said it as if it held the answers to all of her questions. When she gave him an unsatisfied look, he explained. "You're intelligent, I already knew that. And you're driven, because why else would Marcel be carting you around like some trophy. And you were making those little faces all throughout dinner, like if you had to hear one more word out of Marcel's mouth you were going to stab his hand with your salad fork." Her mouth opened in surprise.

For the record, she couldn't help the incriminating question that slipped out of her mouth next. She was usually so deliberate in what she chose to say, but his observation had caught her off guard.

"But you barely even looked at me that—" The rushed sentence died off at the end as she realized her slip-up.

"So you were looking at me." It wasn't a question, but more of a satisfied assertion.

She felt the heat rise to her face. Please God, let the makeup hide her blush. "You were sitting right in front me, Elijah." She rolled her eyes, attempting to correct her earlier mistake. "It would be hard not to notice you since you were directly in my line of vision. I'd have to be either blind or oblivious. Neither of which I am." She inwardly smirked when the satisfied look was wiped off his face.

"Of course," he agreed, diplomatically, lowering his eyes in slight embarrassment.

"Well, anyway, I should head back to work." She fished around in her purse and brought out her wallet.

"No, Katherine." Elijah raised his hand up to stop her from opening her wallet. "Lunch is on me, please." She looked at him for a small moment before conceding. After he placed a few bills down, she stood up and he followed. Wordlessly, they walked out of the restaurant—him ushering her out carefully with his hand on the small of her back. They made it onto the bustling sidewalk.

"Katherine," he said, turning to face her. The hand that was on her back now held her elbow gently, pulling her slightly to him as people rushed by them in a hurry. She was close enough to smell his woody-scented cologne.

She stared at him expectantly. He looked away, hesitating, before looking at her again. "Let me take you out." It was a question, and a plea, and an announcement all at once.

She wasn't surprised that this was coming, so why was her heart dancing to a wild rhythm when she heard him say it? She took a moment, but she might've taken a moment too long because soon she could feel Elijah start to pull away in what he assumed was a rejection. She stopped him, her hand flying to grab the hand that was letting go of her elbow. Both their hands were now caught mid-air in an odd embrace of fingers.

Brown eyes met brown. "OK," she nodded.

"OK?" he repeated, unsure.

"OK," she confirmed. She offered him a small smile.

He nodded his head. "OK." He finally allowed himself to laugh a little in relief. "Your number, then?" They swapped cell phones and exchanged their information.

After waving down a taxi for her, he pulled open the door to allow her inside of it. "I'll be seeing you then, Katherine." Their faces were just inches apart.

"Bye, Elijah." She slid past him and into the seat, smiling like a teenage girl the whole way back to work.

Klaus sat comfortably in one of the plush leather sofa chairs in his study. He was dressed comfortably in a beige henley and black pants, his shoes abandoned for sometime by the foot of his chair. His leg was folded across the other as he examined the file of documents he held in his lap. The centerpiece candlesticks were moved to the edge of the coffee table to make room for the rest of the documents spread out haphazardly across the tabletop. He held a pen between his fingers and every once in a while he'd use it to sign his name at the bottom of a document, which was then thrown into a designated pile on the table in front of him.

"Niklaus."

Klaus looked up distractedly to see his brother standing in the doorway, suit-clad and his briefcase still in hand. He must have just arrived home.

"Elijah." Klaus glanced down at his watch, not realizing how much time had passed in the windowless study. "I didn't realize how late it is."

Elijah took in the sight of Klaus surrounded by the scattered documents and walked further into the room. "What are you working on?"

Klaus sighed. "These bloody documents for the sale of the Palmer property. I've been reviewing them all day making sure everything is in order before we can sign with Walker Segal." Elijah nodded in understanding. They had recently snatched up a property that was for sale in an area of Chicago that was quickly on the rise to be becoming one of the city's most popular neighborhoods. At one point in time, the area had flourished with life and entertainment, though, like many other neighborhoods similar to it, hard economic times saw it fall slowly into disrepair. Only within these past few years was new life breathed into it once again. With investors like Mikaelson Corp., the area was sure to be restored to its former glory in no time.

The property was a former Victorian-era mansion that had somehow managed to survive the city's explosion of high rises and skyscrapers. This lonesome relic stood so startlingly out of place that one could not help but appreciate its stubborn tenacity—a vision into an era past that held all of the memories but barely any of its old substance. With the help of a design firm they would be working with soon, Klaus and Elijah planned to transform the decaying mansion into an upscale boutique hotel.

"Are you almost done with all of this?" asked Elijah.

"Yea, I shouldn't be much longer."

"Well, I'm cooking dinner if you want some."

Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise. Both of them knew how to cook quite well, though they rarely did because of how busy they were. Elijah, especially, had forsaken the art of cooking in favor of using that time in the evening to tend to business matters. If they weren't eating out, they usually relied on their housekeeper, Teresa, to take care of such domestic duties.

"You're cooking?" Klaus asked dubiously.

"Yes, Niklaus. Try not to act so surprised." Elijah tried hard to suppress the smirk forming on his mouth upon seeing Klaus's look of confusion. "I'm going upstairs to change and then I'll be down in a minute to start on it. I'll call you when it's ready." And then, without saying anything else, Elijah turned on his heel and walked out the door, his dress shoes clacking rhythmically against the hardwood floors.

Klaus didn't think anything more of it until he wandered down the hall towards the kitchen half an hour later, finally putting aside his papers and giving in to the grumbling of his stomach. He scrunched his eyebrows at the sound of Elijah humming to an unknown tune. His back was turned to Klaus as he stirred something on the stove.

Klaus crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, watching the strange picture before him with entertained surprise. His brother was humming. Since when did his brother hum? Could it be that a girl was responsible for his prudish brother's light mood?

After a few minutes, Klaus eventually let out a fake cough to alert Elijah to his presence. Elijah's humming abruptly stopped and he turned to acknowledge Klaus.

"Good day, mate?" Klaus teased, a laugh escaping him. Elijah immediately turned a bright shade of red, and turned back around to the stove in an attempt to hide it.

"Same as any other day," Elijah said, nonchalantly. Liar, thought Klaus.

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure." The sound of Klaus's laughter was still apparent in his voice, letting Elijah know he didn't believe a word of it.

Elijah turned off the stove and brought the pot of boiling soup to the kitchen table. He gestured for Klaus to grab the remaining pan on the stove. Elijah turned back towards one of the kitchen cabinets to grab plates, bowls, and silverware.

They both sat down at the table and began helping themselves to the food, Klaus, all the while, eying his brother suspiciously.

"Dear heaven, Niklaus. What is it?" Elijah suddenly exclaimed, exasperated by Klaus's staring.

"Nothing, brother," Klaus laughed. "Nothing at all. Although you'll have to forgive me for finding it a bit suspicious that you suddenly decided to show off your culinary talent tonight."

"Since when did it become suspicious for a person to cook in their own home?"

"Certainly not suspicious for just any person, no. But definitely suspicious for you, big brother."

"Well, tonight is as good as any other to cook, Niklaus." Klaus could always tell when his brother was lying, owing to not only Klaus's cleverness but also to Elijah's pitiful skills in the art of deceit. "So, stop staring at me like you're trying to figure out my secrets."

"So you do have a secret, then?" Klaus pressed, half teasing and half curious as to what had put his brother in such a good mood.

Elijah flashed his eyes in warning. Oh yes, mused Klaus inwardly, this was most definitely over a girl.

"Fine, fine." Klaus raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, mate," he laughed again. They both resumed their eating when Klaus continued, "So how did Marcel take your rejection today?"

Elijah couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of Marcel's angry face. "Oh, he took it quite well, if well includes puffing up like a blowfish and stalking out of the restaurant like an insolent child." Klaus threw his head back in laughter. Elijah, encouraged by his reaction, gave into the memory and laughed on. "Apparently he remains under the impression that you would rather side with him than me."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "He never changes." Klaus shook his head. "I hope you set him straight."

Elijah smirked. "Don't you worry about that, Niklaus."

"Well, I'm sure 'Bekah would be delighted to hear about it." Elijah chuckled in agreement. After their short-lived relationship, Rebekah was not Marcel's biggest fan. "How is she doing, anyway?" Klaus asked. Klaus could never be relied on to keep up regular communication with his siblings. That duty had always fallen to Elijah.

"She's well. I spoke to her yesterday. She said she'll be joining us for Thanksgiving with the boys. Stefan has to stay behind for work, though."

Klaus grinned. He might give his younger sister a hard time whenever he had the chance but, as his only sister, she was the closest to his heart. A few years ago, she finally married Stefan after a whirlwind, two-year romance and they were now living together in London. He was an American expatriate working for a British finance firm and they had met through a mutual friend, hitting it off immediately. Anyone who knew them, though, was well acquainted with the fact that they were as opposite as opposites could be: she was loud and outspoken where he was calm and reserved, she was reckless where he was level-headed. But they were undeniably in love, and they had two beautiful children to prove it: Henry, now two years old, and Theo, only 6 months old. Elijah and Klaus didn't get to see them often, but they made sure to spoil them as much as they could.

There was a pause before Elijah spoke up again. "Mother called yesterday, as well." It was as if all the air was vacuumed out of the room. Klaus visibly tensed but remained quiet. Elijah continued on, regardless. "She asked about you." Klaus still said nothing. "She asked that you'd return her calls."

Klaus's jaw ticked and his eyes flashed with barely restrained anger. "Well, since she insists on making you her messenger, how about you relay a message from me to her: I have no interest in having a relationship with her. Not now nor ever. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a mother, anymore. And if she would stop calling the office, my secretary would be eternally grateful." Klaus abruptly pushed up from his chair and threw his napkin on the table. "Thanks for dinner," he added, tersely, before walking off in the direction of his study.

Elijah heaved a deep sigh, wondering if this madness would ever end. It seemed that the harder he tried to keep his family intact, the more they pulled apart from one another. He longed for the days when they were all a real family—him, his parents, Klaus, Rebekah, and Kol. There was a time when the mere thought of saying what Klaus had just uttered to him was not only unfathomable, but repulsive. And, yet, here they were, Klaus declaring he wanted nothing to do with his own mother. Somehow, somewhere along the line, it had all fallen apart, and Elijah was determined to fix it.

AN: I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter! I know Caroline didn't make an appearance this chapter, but she'll have some interesting things happening to her in the next one, I promise. Also, for the record, in this story Stefan and Damon aren't related to each other. Just wanted to make that clear. But, anyway, yay for Kalijah! And, can anyone guess what's going on between Klaus and his mom?

P.S. Thank you to all who followed, favorited, or reviewed. I tried my best to respond to everyone who left a comment. You can't imagine how much each and every comment means to me. As I've probably already mentioned, this is the first story I've ever written-not just for Fanfiction, but for anything. I'm not really used to writing anything outside of academic papers for school, so you can imagine why writing this story makes me a little nervous. I'm in unchartered territory and I really hope I'm not screwing it up too bad. Anyway, I eagerly await to read what you all have to say about it!