Bea stared at the hole in the wall that allowed her to see a spot in the next room over – Rigby's bedroom. Rigby was going to kill her.

To be honest, Bea was a bit surprised that it had only taken a minute for her very-broken hand to heal after it smashed through layers of plaster, beams, and wiring. Her arm had been through the wall nearly up to her elbow, and almost immediately after using her bedroom wall as a punching bag to vent her frustrations she'd let out a shriek of pain that nicely complimented the acknowledgement that she had made a bad decision.

It had been strange to Bea at first, when she discovered her strength as a vampire. She'd learned early on from the other supernatural beings she came across that the older the vampire, the stronger they were. Bea had been entirely convinced her own brawn was equal to that of others. That had changed when she had come across a two hundred year old vampire when she had only been turned for fifteen years herself. Overpowering the vampire had been fairly easy.

At that point, it had been apparent that something was quite off.

After regaining her memories, Bea had hypothesized a bit about her circumstances. She'd always assumed that her unique strength was due to something that had taken place during the five years she couldn't recall before she'd been turned.

And now Bea was fairly positive that was true.

She figured consuming what had to have been gallons of Kol's blood over the course of the three years leading up to her death had altered her in some way. In addition, she'd been turned with the blood of yet another Original.

Her transition itself was unorthodox as well. The very moment Bea had woken up after being killed, she had instinctively swallowed the blood that had been drying in her mouth. Her own blood – the blood she had shed after biting her tongue when she'd been a human mere hours beforehand.

And thus she had become a vampire in broad daylight.

Which constituted catching on motherfucking fire.

Being directly next to the river where Klaus had disposed of her corpse was convenient. Having to stay in that river for the five hours until sunset was decidedly less convenient. Either way, the extra strength was something she would never complain about.

Well, except now. Because the hole in the wall she'd just made could quite possibly result in her death at the hands of her best friend, who would be getting off work in an hour.

Shit.

Home repairs couldn't be that difficult, could they?

"Bea, why did you hang a poster of the Beatles on my wall? I mean I get the joke, but you know I don't – what the fuck did you do to my wall?!"

Bea flinched where she was sitting down at their kitchen table, trying to focus on the coffee in front of her instead of the sound of Rigby's shouting. It was well deserved anger, she knew this, but hanging up a poster over the gaping hole had seemed so much easier than using all of the supplies the man at the hardware store had described.

Rigby stormed into the kitchen before throwing herself down in the opposite chair with a huff.

"You need a more constructive way to relieve anger. Killing and binging on B positive works when we're on the move, but you can't do that here without revealing yourself to the gang of adolescent supernatural creatures in the surrounding area. You should sign up for yoga. I do it every morning at that studio on Main Street."

Bea laughed and responded in an amused voice, "Well you also love the yoga-pants clad asses that bend into interesting shapes."

Rigby shrugged, completely unrepentant when she said, "Well obviously. I've had sex with two of the women in my class. And I told you that I'm starting to really like Tracy, she makes me laugh. And her downward dog is nothing short of a revelation."

They laughed lightly together and Bea felt a spark of happiness at her friend's words. Rigby had made it clear multiple times that Bea had no reason to worry about her being bored or bothered by their time in this town. She was loving her job – only had two encounters with the alcoholic members of the Scooby Gang so far when she'd filled in for a sick bartender, gathering no suspicion – and now was starting to make connections.

Bea's life seemed to be at both a standstill and a rollercoaster. She was stuck in this town, unable to act until the time was right. But every time she ironed out a plan that could work in getting Kol back, one of the fucking supernatural high school students in Mystic Falls fucked everything to hell. The newest information she had received was the last straw.

"Well, we don't need to worry about Mikael killing Kol anymore. The Mystic Falls coalition killed him off."

Rigby looked surprised and immediately asked, "Wasn't the whole point of them waking him up for Mikael to kill Klaus?"

Bea nodded and had to loosen her fingers around her mug, whose porcelain was just barely beginning to crack. But she really couldn't help it – these fucking kids were ruining her afterlife. Bea was a simple woman.

Okay, that wasn't true at all. She was very self aware of the fact that she was at times a complicated super-bitch. But her objective in this town was simple. All she wanted was to revive her husband out of his coma-like condition and be with him again. Revenge against Klaus and Elijah would be sweet, of course, but it wasn't a realistic goal of hers at this point. To be with Kol, she had to be alive. Going up against two Originals would be a death sentence, and she would never risk Rigby being harmed as collateral.

"The Copy-Kat told Rebekah that Klaus killed their mother, as if it was such a stretch, and then stabbed her in the back – literally. So she's out for the count. Homecoming was moved to the first baby hybrid's house, so it was very good that I turned down the chance to chaperone seeing as Katie showed up and could have given us away. Klaus is back in Mystic Falls, which means the coffins would have been nearby too and bodes very poorly for me."

Rigby frowned and reached forward to grab Bea's mug, taking a long gulp of the coffee herself before answering.

"Care to explain the remark about the coffins?"

Bea bared her teeth and let out a low snarl, which only caused Rigby to raise a single eyebrow – an expression Bea was dreadfully envious of and couldn't replicate herself.

After quelling her mindless murderous rage to a more calculated state of homicidal urge, Bea let out a long breath and said, "The Ripper is no longer Klaus's bitch. So the little fucker took the coffins. A brooding, lovesick, pathetic little imitation of a Byronic hero has MY FUCKING HUSBAND HIDDEN AWAY LIKE AN UNSIGHTLY PIECE OF FURNITURE!"

Bea's words had transformed into a shriek and she slammed her fist against the table, immediately causing it to break into kindling.

Rigby let out an exasperated sigh and said in a someone mournful tone, "At least I picked up the coffee. I really like this rug."

Bea threw her hands up and roughly ran her hands through her hair.

"I want to rip his limbs off. And gouge out his eyeballs only to feed them to him. I am going to –"

"Kill him, hurt him, etcetera. Correct?"

Bea became a little bit hurt at this point and to her shame tears of frustration and sadness filled her eyes. Her voice cracked when she asked, "Why are – why are you treating this like a joke?"

Rigby rushed over to her and immediately hugged her, squeezing tightly and rubbing her back.

"Hey, it's okay. I didn't mean it like that. But you aren't thinking about the long game, honey. That's what I'm here for. And I think it's going to work out for us even better than it would have if Klaus still had them."

Bea sniffed and swallowed heavily before whispering, "How?"

Rigby pulled back and had a threatening smile on her face when she answered, "Stefan Salvatore isn't Klaus's bitch anymore. But he is Elena's. The doppelganger is going to know within days where they are. And then we retrieve Mr. Beatrix Lynch."

It wasn't as simple as that. Of course it wouldn't be. But only days after Elena informed Bea of Stefan's possession of the coffins, she called them once more to let them know that the coffins were being stored in the 'witch house'. Gaining directions had been fairly easy, and Bea and Rigby now stood just outside of the dilapidated cabin in the middle of the woods.

It seemed like the set of the horror films Rigby loved, and Bea was able to appreciate the irony of it. There were murderous vampires within it, after all. But the two of them had been unable to enter. Being stopped just outside of the house was the last straw.

Bea had broken.

"Please. Please, let me see him. I won't – I won't do anything I swear, I just need to see him."

Bea was shaking andsobbing uncontrollably, and normally she would be humiliated at begging the ancestors of a line of witches for anything. But at this moment, she had lost all of her pride. Her dignity was unimportant. All that mattered was the fact that she could see the coffin holding her husband through a window only ten feet away, and she could do nothing.

Rigby was doing her best to make soothing sounds and comfort her, but nothing could stop the onslaught of devastation Bea was going through. She was so goddamn close and was absolutely useless to Kol at the moment. There was nothing she could do, and it was her fault that she was powerless. Maybe if she had aided the Bennett line or –

"As the daughter of Jane Morris, I ask that you show us Kol Mikaelson."

Bea froze at Rigby's words and turned to look at her best friend, who was looking at the house with an even expression and spoke with a confidant tone. Before she could ask what it was Rigby was doing, she spoke once again.

"I was a member of the Morris line of witches. My ancestors were the ones who nearly drove me insane with visions of the future and my family gave their blessing that I become one of the undead to save my sanity. And so I ask that you show us Kol Mikaelson. I do not ask for entry and I acknowledge that I have no magic, but I ask that you give us this small mercy."

A silence rang out when Rigby finished speaking, and she turned her head so that she could presumably listen better. Bea didn't move or even breathe, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere. With no short amount of surprise in her voice, Rigby turned to her and looked absolutely shocked when she spoke to Bea.

"Well holy fuck, I didn't think it would work. We get a minute. And they won't let us remove them, but Bea, we get a minute."

When Rigby finished speaking, they both turned back to the house and watched as the lid to the coffin nearest to them seemed to open on its own.

Bea Mikaelson laid eyes on her husband for the first time in one hundred years.

No, Bea and Rigby won't be the two to remove the coffins from the witch house. But we WILL be hearing from a certain snarky, homicidal Original vampire whose dagger will be removed from his chest next chapter.

As always, please let me know what you think. xx Cheers