He knocks, and she opens her door. She looks different, a few scars on the skin she's showing. She's more muscular than the negotiating teenager he had known a handful of years ago.
She invites him in without delay, she wants the door shut as quickly as possible.
"Elena." He greets, wondering if she remembers.
"Elijah." She counters, her voice quiet.
"It's a huge risk just having you in the city, he has spies crawling all over but I need your help." She admits, and he sees a cozy apartment. If human police were to ever search here, she'd be screwed. He sees crossbows and stakes on the wall, and a collection of knives on her coffee table, he notes the guns with wooden bullets on her bookcases. She asks if he wants tea and he gives a polite yes. He can smell it brewing in the kitchen. Evidently her tastes have changed for the better. He doesn't ask about the Salvatores, or the lack of friendly vampires in her life. He does raise an eyebrow at the covered windows as she returns with a cup of coffee.
"None of the vampires here are daywalkers. Thank God." She sighs, and she gestures for him to sit. She takes the couch, he takes the armchair.
"What do you do nowadays?" He asks.
"I teach self defense for money and I ghost write on the side." She tells him, adjusting the laces of one of her boots. They're steel toed. He wonders if those boots are what she wears when she goes out into the night to fight. Another part wonders if she'd let him teach her a few techniques. He has centuries of fighting skills he wouldn't mind sharing with her, especially when she's killing vampires regularly. He can't help the odd feeling he has for her, he wants her to be safe. The girl who had been his ally when he had wanted to kill his brother, all grown up.
She fills him in on what she's been doing, he can't tell if he's impressed or disappointed that she's been doing this by herself. She tells him of her nightly patrols, and work. He's also interested in her writing, but he'll ask her about that later.
Thunder cracks outside and she swears. If it's raining, vampires can be out. He asks to accompany her on her nightly route, and she agrees but tells him he needs to wear something other than a suit. She wants to laugh at the look he gives.
"You're known as the Original who wears a suit. Or the one with the best hair, depending on who you ask." She says, and he can sense the teasing in her words. It's not unwelcome, they used to be closer, back when they were both in Mystic Falls.
"Which one am I to you?" He asks. He hasn't agreed to forgo his suit yet.
"I'll tell you when I know." She answers, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She needs to go write, and the has an hour before sunset makes the city even more unsafe.
"I will return in something other than a suit." He promises.