Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I in any way associated with, TVD.

AN: Written for the Vampire Diaries Comment Ficathon on LJ.

Prompt: Caroline/Elijah As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.

In The Sun

Small town, two a.m., a drunk no one will miss. It's not his most impressive kill but frustration fed his hunger until he didn't much care. He feels eyes on him and takes satisfaction in letting the body drop with a sickening squelch. Horror and fear make blood sweet and he's looking forward to dessert when he turns. There's no one there.

He's instantly on edge, ready for the fight that's been hanging in the air since long before he set foot in this town. The rough strike of pebbles shifting over stone sounds behind him and he whirls like it was a shot fired.

There's no attacker and he's left staring dumbly at the blonde crouching before him. Her hair is loose, her feet bare, and the hem of her teddy bear pajamas are already stained with the drunk's blood. She fingers his neck, tugging the skin further open. Blood trickles out and she looks up at him with eyes dark as sin, lifting her soaked fingers to her lips. She licks them clean before he strikes, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her against the nearest brick wall.

She tastes like blood and youth and death. She's a fantastic kisser.

He's just started wondering if she's worth waiting to kill when she turns them around, slamming his back into the stone so hard he feels one of his ribs break. He looks down at her, absurdly proud that someone so young could do this to him, and kisses her again.


"What are you even doing in this town?" he asks three nights later. There are two dead bodies between them in the alley. One for him, one for her. Let it never be said that Elijah didn't show his date a good time.

She slides her jeans back on, bending just so and he smiles appreciatively at the curve of her ass.

"Score to settle," she says simply, shrugging away the question.

"With who?" He's almost sure he knows the answer, but wants to hear her say it.

"Katherine. She's a vampire."

He laughs. He can't help it. There's so much venom in the name but she adds "she's a vampire" like an apology for not saying so first, like there could be any other Katherine in the world worth hating that much.

"What's so funny?" she asks, every inch the queen bee teenager with hands on her hips and a warning in her eyes.

He only laughs harder, then steps over the corpses to kiss away her frown.

Hours later he realizes it's probably the first time he's laughed in decades. He might be in trouble here.


Two weeks since their first meeting he watches as she gathers the remains of her clothes from the floor of his room. It's the first time he's brought her here and he knows now that he's definitely attached. Moonlight washes over her as she slips into her bra and panties, zips her skirt up. She leaves off the torn blouse, which she's already made him promise to pay for - he plans on buying her several - and sits at the dresser, fussing with her hair.

He wants to come up behind her, kiss the smooth curve of her throat where some nameless vampire bit into her, make her forget his face. Instead he says, "Stay."

"Hmm?" Her hands never pause, her eyes never move from her reflection, she's almost too busy to mind him. He should be insulted. Instead he finds her endearingly young.

"For the day. You can't have better entertainment wherever you've been holing up."

She smiles at the rough tone. "Oh? And how would you know?"

He's behind her in an instant, hands heavy on her shoulders. "You wouldn't dare," he says darkly. "Plus," he adds, lifting her by her waist and taking her seat, pulling her into his lap, "you really couldn't have better."

She smiles, kisses him chastely, and pushes him out from under her in a blur.

He still isn't sure why he hasn't killed her.

"Cocky much?" she asks while he climbs to his feet.

"Very," he says, kissing her throat, "but not unjustly."

She stiffens and he pulls back while she gathers herself, shrugging into her jacket and leaving the ruined blouse for him to deal with.

"I meant what I said, you don't have to go."

She gives him an indulging smile, like their ages are reversed. "It's almost dawn and I'm sure you've got a busy day ahead."

He catches her hands before she can blow out the door, pulls her close for one last kiss. "I'd get you a ring," he says and laughs at her thunderstruck expression. "To walk in the daylight," he clarifies, holding up his own hand.

She frowns. "I think I'd rather hide. That thing is ugly."

"I'd find you a pretty one. But there won't be any need much longer." He drops her hands and turns back to the bed. One step. Two.

"You're just trying to get me to stay."

He sits on the edge of the bed. "Definitely. But am I lying?"

She bites her lip the way he loves, considering. A second later he's on his back with her straddling him. "Do I really care?"


She's getting grease stains on his sheets and sending inn employees he compelled out for snacks. It's just after noon and she's already eaten enough to satisfy three sumo wrestlers. But since she's half naked, he can't be too mad.

"So," she says, resting her arms on her crossed legs between bites, "you're gonna lure this head vampire dude-"

"Klaus."

"Whatever. -here, kill him, then go through with the spell yourself?"

"Basically."

"Why not just kill him and not do the spell? I mean, it sounds like you have a lot of people to get control of and then there'd be chaos all over the world and no head vampire to scare everyone back in line and … you're an anarchist, aren't you?"

"Ah, to be young and naïve enough to think you can label everything so nice and neatly."

She sticks her tongue out at him through smiling lips. "Still, it'll be a lot of work. You need the doppelganger-"

"Who I've already gotten to agree to come. She thinks I'm just going to kill Klaus and that I'll let her walk away unharmed."

She frowns at the interruption. "You still need a witch to do the spell and a werewolf and a vampire- You're not planning on killing me, are you? Because I promised myself I was never sleeping with a guy who wanted to kill me again and I'd really hate to have gone back on that promise, even for sex this good." This, he thinks, is why he's keeping her.

"No. I've got Katherine trapped. She'll be the vampire sacrifice." He watches her smile grow until her entire countenance is transformed and he can't wait to see her in the light of the sun. "I thought you'd like that."

She quickly schools her features. "I still think it's crazy."

"I'm sure you do. But I've got everything under control."


Everything has gone to hell. And not the good kind where vampires everywhere were freed to walk in the sun. The bad kind where Elijah is losing to a pair of vampires who haven't even reached their third century. His warlocks are both dead, Katherine's gotten away, and Klaus didn't even come.

Still, he has the moonstone and the doppelganger's alive. He can take her to Klaus in person, let him handle the spell and maybe in a century or so Elijah will try to kill the old patriarch again.

"Don't even," Elijah growls in warning, holding the doppelganger so close he feels her bones cracking.

The Salvatores only pause a moment before inching closer. If he can get to the trees he'll lose them in the woods then be out of their reach before sundown. He'll have to leave certain things behind, but she'll understand. He'll bring her Katherine's head. That'll help smooth things over.

Elijah sees the moment when the brothers' attention shifts over his shoulder. They have a vampire hunter on their side, he remembers, and spins just far enough to the side to keep the doppelganger between him and them.

Again he's wrong. Again she's surprised him. His mind slows and all he can think is, "the sun."

It glistens in her hair, as he knew it would, but she isn't anywhere near smiling.

"Caroline," the doppelganger gasps.

She finally has a name. It never seemed odd before that he didn't know it, but now he sees she's kept everything from him. The ring she never wore in front of him flashes on her finger when she pulls his arms away from the doppelganger. The knife she carries flashes with it when she slices through his wrist. There's an apology in her eyes while his hand falls to the earth and the sun truly touches him for the first time since he died.

His flesh blisters and burns. He screams in pain and rage, reaches for her, for revenge. One Slavatore pulls her away, shields her even as he waits for another attack. The other brother is holding the doppelganger. All watch as an Original dies for the last time. He watches Caroline.


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