Klaus, it seems, breaks his promise to you. Not even Elijah stops by. You've been left alone for so long you start to feel as if you're losing your mind. Before this you never realized how much you need being around people. You wouldn't even mind seeing Kol. You try to distract yourself with more baking. It doesn't quite work.
You're boiling water for your bagels when there's a knock at your door. At this point it would be easier if the Mikaelsons just moved in with you, you think. You'd be less lonely.
"Klaus, thank—" You break off.
"Sorry to disappoint," a young blond girl who looks remarkably like Klaus says, "My brother is indisposed at the moment."
You pause.
"Did you kill him?"
Her lips twitch. "No," she says, "Not quite."
"Good. He owes me a macaron recipe."
The girl's lips widen to a stark, wide grin. "Pretty and funny," she says before looking pointedly towards the inside of your house, "Now, are you going to invite me in or what?"
You pause and have a moment where you wonder if that's a good idea. You hesitate and Rebekah's gaze sharpens.
Well, you think to yourself, if you don't she could always burn your house down.
"Come in."
She grins and steps inside. Surprisingly, she doesn't attack you. She sniffs the air.
"Are you baking something?" She asks.
"Bagel dough rising," you say, "Want one?"
She nods and follows you into your kitchen. She watches you with idle interest as you shape the bagels and put them in your pot of boiling water.
"So why has my brother been hiding you?"
You shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"Are you a witch?"
You laugh. "No," you say, "I'm just human."
She tilts her head in the same way Klaus does.
"Hm," she says, eyes sliding over your home, "What are your intentions with my brothers?"
"I don't have any," you say honestly. Rebekah looks like she doesn't believe you. You want to make a joke about her sudden inquisition. You suspect it wouldn't go over well. Hesitating, you try again. "I'm not trying to hurt your family, Rebekah."
Her lips twitch. "That would be a first." She takes a seat at your breakfast bar like she lives there.
"Please," you say dryly, "Take a seat." She ignores you.
"Most people would have run by now if they were in your position."
"How threatening," you comment. Rebekah keeps looking at you and you can tell she won't let you avoid the implicit question. You shift against the counter. "I'm not really in a position to run," you say, "I don't even think I'd want to if I could."
"Why not?"
"I've started to like them," you admit, "I'd like us to be friends too."
Rebekah pauses.
"I don't have good experience with female friends," she settles on.
"Sounds like you don't know how to pick them."
Rebekah smiles grudgingly. "I suppose you have a point."
You take out your bagels and brush them with an egg wash. The oven heats the kitchen when you open it.
"So why has Klaus kept you away from me for so long?" You ask as you set a timer for the bagels.
"Technically he still thinks we haven't met yet," she says, "I slipped out of the house."
Your brow furrows. "Why not?"
"I believe he's afraid I was going to slit your throat."
Maybe you shouldn't have invited her in so easily.
"Ah," you say, "That's not ideal."
"If it's any consolation, you're far less irritating than Nik's usual obsessions."
You blink. "Thank you," you say, "Should I be worried that Klaus is going to show up and throw a tantrum?"
"I wouldn't count on it," she hums, "The Salvatores daggered him so he'll be down for at least the rest of the day."
Your face drops. (Stop worrying about a bunch of murderers, you scold yourself).
"Shouldn't you be helping him?"
Rebekah rolls her eyes, but there's a peculiar light in her eye when she looks at you. "My brother is a cockroach, he'll be fine."
You start to wonder if all families are this cavalier about their siblings.
"Well," you say, "As long as he's okay, I guess."
Rebekah keeps looking at you with an expression you can't interpret.
"He will be," she says eventually.
"So how did you find out about me?"
"Kol broke first," she says, "He's been moping about lately. Frankly, I was getting tired of it."
"I don't see how that pertains to me."
She gives you an expression you recognize from your days as a teenager.
"You really are oblivious, aren't you?"
You don't know what to say to that.
"You are," Rebekah realizes, "I suppose I can see why Klaus likes you. Besides the fact you haven't tried to kill him yet."
"… Is that… very common?"
She nods. "You would be surprised."
"No, I don't think I would," you say dryly, thinking back on almost all of your interactions with Klaus.
"It gets tiring dealing with it all," she sighs, like she's talking about having to go grocery shopping in the rain instead of life and death. You look at her, mildly amused.
"I bet." You ponder on the inter-dynamics of the Mikaelson family and come to the conclusion that you are not qualified enough to understand them. Maybe if you get your Master's. "Has Klaus considered that if he stopped attacking people he would have to deal with less assassination attempts?"
"I don't think he's entertained the thought, no."
"Yeah," you say, "I didn't think so."
"He's much more of a 'heads will roll' kind of person."
"I've noticed," you say dryly.
Rebekah just shrugs. "We all have our hobbies," she says, "I like clothes, Elijah likes redecorating, Klaus likes murdering people. And painting, I suppose."
Briefly, you remember your attempt at a painting sitting in your living room. You'll take it down later.
"Sounds like fun."
"Quite. I'm sure he'll have his fun with the Salvatores once his body rejects the dagger."
There is literally no way to interpret that. Sometimes you feel like the Mikaelsons are speaking a completely different language. None of Elijah's novels contained any information about vampires. (A strategical decision, you're sure). You want to know more.
"If I asked very nicely," you say, "Could your family make a supernatural encyclopedia for me? I can't keep up with all of this." Rebekah even smiles at that.
"We do lead a complicated existence."
"At least send me a newsletter; there are too many of you to keep track of."
"Apologies," Rebekah says dryly, "If it makes you feel better, I rarely know what my brother is doing either."
Your timer goes off and you take your bagels out of the oven. A cloud of steam hits your face.
"Cream cheese?"
"Please."
Rebekah is halfway through her bagel by the time she remembers to speak.
"I suppose this is the other reason Nik seems to be preoccupied with you," she says, "These are quite good."
You smile wryly. "Thanks, I'll use them to lure your brothers over so they'll keep me in the loop.
"You know," she says, "That's not a half-bad idea."
"… What do you mean?"
"A dinner party would solve all of our problems."
You don't like the idea of having the entire Mikaelson family in your home. You also don't like the idea of planning it with your newest acquaintance of the Mikaelson family. (You're not sure yet whether she takes after Elijah or Kol in aggression).
"There's a high chance my house would be rubble at the end of the evening."
Rebekah shrugs. "We can always fix it," she says nonchalantly.
You rub your temples.
You end up pulling out your recipe box for meal-planning while Rebekah watches.
"Are you certain I can't do any decorating?" Rebekah questions. You don't like the way she's looking around your house.
"Positive." Her expression darkens and you start to feel somewhat bad. "You can move around the furniture, you just can't buy anything."
You suspect the warning is needed.
"Hmph," she says. She takes her bagel with her.
Rebekah trashes your house while you meal plan. You suppose there are worse sacrifices to make to appease a temperamental vampire.
You've been on the wrong end of a couple of those sacrifices. This, in comparison, is far more pleasant. You're used to the feeling that you've lost control of your live (especially lately). Yet another reason you should sit the Mikaelsons down and set boundaries their presence in your life. If you give a Klaus a cookie…
You cough to avoid laughing and having to explain your train of thought to Rebekah. "Are there any foods I should avoid?" You ask.
"It's not like we have allergies," Rebekah says dryly. You level a look at her.
"Thanks for that," you say, "I meant more along the lines of food preferences."
"We're a thousand years old. We have refined palettes." You put the card for rosemary chicken aside for consideration. "Although," Rebekah tacks on, "Kol does hate seafood."
Your nose wrinkles. "My opinion of him just dipped dramatically." Surprising considering he already tried to strangle you. Taking a shovel to rock bottom.
"I'll let him know," she says, amused, "Do you happen to have a dining room that I haven't seen?"
You shake your head and it sparks something in the back of your head. "Shit," you say belatedly, "I don't have a dining table." Rebekah hums.
"I'll take care of it," she says.
"You are not buying me a table."
"You don't have anywhere else in your house where you can accommodate four guests," Rebekah argues, "It is not truly a gift if it's born of selfishness."
"… Fine." You'd feel bad if you didn't suspect that the Mikaelsons were loaded.
"What's the room at the end of the hall?"
"Empty bedroom."
She looks at you strangely. "Why on Earth are you not using it? Your home is already small enough."
"Thanks," you say dryly, "And it's my roommate's old room. She moved out a few months ago." And left you covering her rent. Forgiveness may be in your nature, but you're still mad about that.
"Well," Rebekah sniffs, "In that case I'll work on converting it."
That sounds an awful lot like something that will get your security deposit revoked. You're about to remind her she's only allowed to rearrange when your door opens. You wonder if any of the Mikaelsons know how to knock.
"Well," Elijah comments as he enters, "This is an unexpected sight."
"Elijah," You say, "I'm so glad to see you." He gives you a small smile of his own. A weight lifts.
The loneliness that's infested your heart starts to sink back into the depths it came from.
"Likewise," he says, "I see you've met my sister."
"How did you find me?"
"You are quite predictable." Rebekah makes a noise of dissatisfaction. "And," Elijah continues, "You tend to do the opposite of whatever Klaus wants. As of right now, Klaus wants her alive."
A chill goes down your spine.
You turn around to look wordlessly at Rebekah.
"I didn't!" She rebuts.
"You understand how that doesn't make it better."
"What can I say," Rebekah says, "Your bagels won me over."
You think this is the third time you've won a vampire over with your baking. Perhaps you should write that down in your Vampirism Dissertation. The breaking of bread. (Your English literature class is coming back to haunt you).
"I see the two of you are getting along better than Klaus thought," Elijah comments.
"She's much more likable than I expected."
"… Thanks."
Rebekah smiles, wide and charming. "You're quite welcome."
This family is exhausting.
"Is Klaus ok?" You ask Elijah.
"He's been up and wreaking havoc for nearly an hour," he answers dryly, "I suspect he'll come visit soon." A wave of relief washes over you. You hadn't realized how worried you were.
Concerning.
"Actually," Rebekah interjects, "We have an idea."
Elijah seems even more receptive to your half-baked idea of a dinner than you expected. You suspect it's because Rebekah is the one suggesting it. ("Must it be for dinner?" He asks, giving you a sidelong glance, "Our family has a less than positive track record with dinner parties." Rebekah just snorted and told him he's coming over to a professional chef's home. You don't care enough to correct her. Or to deal with the suspicion in Elijah's eyes).
"I don't know if the spare room has enough light to be a dining room," Elijah says.
"We could always put another window in."
"Um," you say.
"Not before the weekend," Elijah counters, "That might be a more long-term solution."
"You guys remember I'm renting this house, right?"
Elijah and Rebekah stare at you blankly. You wonder what it's like to have such a loose grasp on reality.
"You can't just tear holes in the wall," you say, "I do not own the building."
"We can always just compel the land lord," Elijah dismisses.
"Or better yet," Rebekah tacks on, "We could just get her the deed."
"This has officially spiraled out of control."
You can see that they're not listening to you.
"If the two of you want to get me a house," you try to reason, "I do not want this one."
"Hm," Elijah muses, eyeing your home critically "I suppose you have a point."
"Let's focus on meal planning please," you beg. The two of them end up helping you. You don't let them see what card you pick out for dessert. You want at least some semblance of surprise.
"Are you sure you don't need any help in the kitchen?" Rebekah asks.
"I am literally a chef."
"The offer stands," Elijah says.
"I appreciate the thought, but I promise I'll be fine."
"I'll come over before everyone else to help you get dressed," Rebekah interjects.
"I can get dressed on my own."
"Sure," she says, and you get the feeling she doesn't believe you. You're starting to feel like a rag doll.
"This isn't going to be formal."
"Of course," Elijah lies.
As much as you're starting to like the Mikaelsons, you need to be able to leave your house again or you will go clinically insane. You must say that aloud because they both laugh. Rebekah tells you not to worry, they'll make sure to visit you in the mental hospital. Her grin is sharp when she says it.
"This was surprisingly enjoyable," Rebekah says, eyeing you with a sharp examination, "I'm glad I disobeyed Nik."
Elijah hums. "He's not going to be too happy when he finds out."
"I'll protect you," you reassure her, only half joking.
"Thanks," she says wryly, "That'll stop him from putting a dagger in my heart."
"What?"
Elijah says something in an ancient-sounding language you can't begin to recognize. Rebekah falls silent. Tension bleeds into the air.
"So," you say, "I'm guessing you guys aren't going to tell me why you're acting strange?"
"It's not suitable discussion for event planning."
Sure.
"Rule one of keeping secrets is to not act weird about it," you point out.
"Ah," Elijah says, "Perhaps you have a point there." Rebekah remains quiet.
You stash away your recipe cards, avoiding the awkward air the Mikaelsons have created. You're about to offer them tea when they stand up to leave.
"Allow us a few days to convince our siblings," Elijah says, "We'll send word for the date." He presses a kiss on your palm. You flush and bid them goodbye.
You clean up after they leave and put your bagels away. There aren't many left. You sit at your breakfast bar with a cup of vervain and think about your upcoming dinner date. You've always known Klaus was dangerous (the knowledge forced upon you without asking), but you suspect that the rest are just as murderous. Great observation skills there.
It helps that you think the Mikaelsons are starting to like you. (Not that you know why. Even your bagels aren't quite that good). But you know if they didn't this adventure would end with your death.
It still might.
Hope you guys liked Rebekah's introduction! Next chapter will have more Kol :-)