Just Enough Rope, Chapter 15

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O Hai!  Surprise, I finally got through this #$%@ing chapter.  It will hopefully serve as a course correction and get things back on track here, if only the characters will behave.  Jenna, I'm looking at you.   o_o

Fanfiction.net link:  http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6910203/15/
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Wait.  Your faculty advisor is a werewolf?"  Elena repeated, pausing in the middle of pouring her morning coffee.

“Yep.”  Jenna pushed scrambled eggs around her plate.  They had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now her stomach seemed set to rebel against breakfast, perhaps just on principle.

“Was he the one who attacked Elijah’s friend?” 

“Sophia, yeah.  We’re not sure if he was the one or not.  There were apparently a few of them.  But she was bitten.  Which is apparently a No Good, Very Bad thing for vampires.”

“Yeah, it is.  I’ve seen what happens to a vampire who is dying of a werewolf bite.  Not pretty.”

“Wait, when did you see…  No, you know what?  Nevermind.  I probably don’t want to know.”  Elena added some cream to her coffee and slid onto the stool next to Jenna.  “Eggs?” Jenna said, sliding her plate toward her niece.  “I thought I wanted breakfast, but junior vetoed the idea.”

Elena shook her head and gestured toward her coffee.  “I’m good with this.  I take it you slept here last night?” she asked, indicating the pajamas Jenna was still wearing. 

“Elijah was going to be up all night grading papers.”  Or so he had said.  Jenna privately had her doubts that that was the only reason he hadn't wanted her to stay.

“You usually have an early start on Mondays.  Are you staying home today?”

“Given the situation, Elijah thought it would be wise for me to stay here.”  It didn’t sit entirely well with her to give in on that point; it reeked of running away, with an undertone of being told what to do.  She had wanted to argue, but he had looked so wretched when they left the Salvatore house that she had capitulated and agreed to stay away from campus until he could “deal with” the professor.

“You mean the bombing… did he have something to do with that?”

“We don’t know for sure, but it seems like a good possibility.  Elijah says that it’s not a tactic another vampire is likely to use.”

“Unless… what if the werewolves are working for one of them?”

Jenna frowned.  “Don’t the two species hate each other?  Why would they agree to work for a vampire?”

“They might not have had a choice.”

Great.  Something else to worry about.  “Whatever the case, if I’m stuck at home then I have no excuse not to be working on my abstract.”

“True.”  Elena gave her a sidelong look as she sipped her coffee.  “And you could always take a break, maybe give Alaric a call,” she suggested, oh-so-nonchalantly. 

“Don’t start, Elena.”

“Look, I know it’s not really any of my business – ”

“No, it isn’t.”

“But don’t you think he deserves to know about the baby?”

“I don’t give a shit what he ‘deserves.’  I don’t want to tell him.  I don’t even want to talk to him.”

“Because of Elijah?”

“No, because Ric is a lying son of a bitch who has zero respect for me.”

Elena set her mug down and turned so she was facing Jenna.  “That’s not true, Aunt Jenna.”

“Yes, it is.  And if you weren’t trying to assuage your own guilt with that ‘I was only trying to protect you’ crap, you would understand that.”  Seeing Elena’s stricken expression, Jenna bit her lip and relented.  “Sorry.  I'm sorry.  I’m super pissy this morning.”

"It’s okay.  Can I just say, from the perspective of someone who didn’t know who her biological parents were until she was 17, that it sucks, and is exceedingly unfair to your kid to not know who its father is, especially when that father would be a totally awesome dad?”

“Just so we’re clear, you’re not saying you think John would have been an awesome dad, are you?”

“No!  God, no.  But Alaric?  I think he’d be a great dad.”

Jenna shifted uncomfortably.  “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Even if I don’t want to be with him?”

“I think you can still work something out about the baby, even if you aren’t together as a couple anymore.”  Elena rose and rinsed her mug out in the sink, reaching into the fridge and tossing an orange and a carton of yogurt from the fridge into her backpack.  “And for the record, I’m not thoroughly convinced that you don’t want to be with him,” she added, heading toward the door.

“I do not want to be with him!”

“The lady doth protest too much…”

“That will be enough Shakespeare, young lady!  What are they teaching you in that school?  When you bother to go, that is.”

“Ric’s number is in the address book on my desk,” Elena said, by way of a parting shot.

Annoyed, Jenna filled the teakettle and put it on the stove as Elena’s car pulled out of the driveway.  Maybe some herbal tea would settle her stomach and calm her down enough to work on her abstract.  She opened the cupboard to get the tea and pushed aside the sprig of wolfsbane Damon had given her before leaving the Salvatore House, ‘just in case.’ 

Was she protesting too much?  God, she didn’t know.  She had to admit that she did miss Alaric from time to time.  It wasn’t as though there hadn’t been a time when she had thought it a possibility that she would marry him, have babies, the picket fence, etc.  Being lied to, having secrets withheld… that hadn’t been a part of the plan.

Elijah hadn’t been part of the plan either.  But if she hadn’t already fallen for him, she was dangerously close to doing so.  He was so much more… mature than anyone else she had dated.  Which only stood to reason, considering.  Was it wrong to want to be with someone who treated her with respect, who told her the truth and trusted her to handle it?  Not that it was all her choice to make.  How could she possibly be more than a passing fancy to him?  She was nothing special, certainly not to a guy who was over a thousand years old, who had been with thousands of women.  Beautiful, sophisticated women.  Women like Sophia.  Jealous?  Who, me?

Jenna sighed deeply.  This train of thought was not helping her mood any.  Once the kettle started whistling, she took it off the stove and poured water over the teabag, carrying the mug with her into the dining room, or, as she had come to refer to it, her war room.  Books and papers were piled on the table, leaving just a small space for her laptop and a beverage.  She poked through a pile of notes while she waited for her laptop to boot up and her tea to steep.  Toward the bottom, she found the sheaf of papers where she had outlined what she knew of the supernatural.

This was all my fault, she thought suddenly.  If she hadn’t been stupid and thought she could turn her humiliation at not having known what was going on under her own nose into some kind of workable thesis, then Mitchell would never have seen that she was onto something, would probably not have met Elijah, and would not have been tailed by Sophia, who had only been there at Elijah’s behest.  If she’d just left well enough alone, everything would have been fine.  But no, she just had to try to be clever, to justify her own cluelessness at having ignored everything going on around her.  Maybe that was the real reason Elijah hadn’t wanted her to stay last night.  Maybe he too had realized that she was to blame.

Disgusted, and angry with herself, Jenna took the stack of papers and, stomping into the next room, tossed them into the fireplace.  Grabbing a few pieces of wood, and the box of long matches from the mantle, she lit the papers on fire and used them to kindle the wood.  That’s about all they’re good for, she thought, bitter.  She returned to the dining room, picking up her tea and sipping at it while she looked through the rest of her notes, discontent with them too.

A knock at the door pulled her attention away from the work she wasn’t doing.  With a glance at the alarm keypad to make sure it wasn’t armed, she cracked the door open.  “Suzanne?”

The normally bubbly redhead stood on the front porch, looking utterly dejected.  She had clearly been crying; her eyes were red and had that glassy look.  With her shoulders slumped forward, she looked like she had lost her last friend in the world, AND had her puppy run over.  “Hey,” she mumbled, her voice sounding thick.  She lifted her shoulders in a little shrug.  And promptly burst into tears.

If she was putting on a performance, if she were some part of the Professor’s werewolf cult or something as she and Elijah had debated, she was a damned good actress.  Jenna went back and forth with herself about asking her to come in or sending her on her way, then decided to compromise.  Stepping out onto the porch, pj’s and all, Jenna pulled the door closed behind her and slid an arm around the girl’s shoulders.  She steered her toward the porch swing and eased her down onto it.  “Okay, Sweetie.  What’s going on?”  And why are you here?

Suzanne lifted her hands up, then sort of let them fall into her lap.  “He dumped me.  No, it’s actually worse than that.  He didn’t even have the decency to tell me he was dumping me.  He just stood me up and took off.”  She knuckled tears off of her cheeks, looking a lot younger than she was.

Jenna felt a jolt in her stomach.  “Are you talking about Richard Mitchell?”

“You knew?” Suzanne asked, sniffling.

“It was kind of obvious,” Jenna told her.  She hoped to be able to leave it at that.

“We were supposed to spend the day together yesterday.  We were going to go hiking around the lake, take a picnic… you know.  And he never showed up.  He didn’t even call.  God, I’m so stupid!” she sobbed.

So Mitchell hadn’t been seen since the other night?  Sophia had killed two werewolves.  Could he have been one of them?  “Are you sure you didn’t just get your signals crossed?  Did you try calling him?”

“All day.  Then I went by his office this morning, and there was an announcement on his door from Dr. Lee, saying that he had left to go overseas and would not be returning for the foreseeable future, and she would be taking on his advisees.  Not even a phone call to say goodbye.”

“I’m going to make us some tea,” Jenna said, giving her shoulder a squeeze as she got up.  She put the kettle on the stove again when she back inside, mulling things over.  She didn’t think Suzanne was faking it – she wasn’t really discreet enough to be that good a liar.  But if Mitchell were indeed dead, who had passed along the information about him going ‘overseas?’  Oh God, that means Professor Lee is my advisor now. She somehow found the idea of the tiny professor way scarier than a werewolf.  

While she waited for the water, Jenna took out a package of cookies and put some on a plate, assembling everything onto a tray, including a box of tissues.  When she got the tea, she grabbed the wolfsbane as well, figuring this counted as a ‘just in case.’  She crumpled some of the dried herb into one of the teacups. Once the water boiled, she poured it into the two teacups and went back out to the porch. 

Suzanne was drying her eyes on the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt.  Jenna didn’t think she had seen her in anything so casual and shape-concealing before.  “Here, I found some cookies too.  I figured some chocolate therapy might be in order,” she said, handing Suzanne the cup with the wolfsbane in it.

Wrapping her hands around the cup for warmth, the redhead took a sip of the tea.  “Mmm, this is good.  What is it, blackberry?”

Jenna let out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding when Suzanne took a bigger swallow of the tea.  “Yeah, it’s herbal.”

Suzanne helped herself to a cookie.  “I didn’t think you ever drank anything but coffee.”

“Usually, no.  But my stomach has been touchy lately.”

“You weren’t feeling great last week either.  Are you okay?”  Surprisingly, she seemed genuinely concerned.

“Actually…”  What the hell?  She might as well get used to saying it.  It would become obvious before too long anyhow.  “I’m pregnant.”

The redhead choked on the cookie she was eating, coughing and sputtering as she stared at Jenna, wide-eyed.  “Holy shit!” she croaked out at last.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I said.”

“Wow, that’s…  I…  uh… Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Suzanne washed down the cookie with the rest of her tea.  “Would it be really tacky and Maury Povich of me to ask who’s the baby daddy?”

“Kinda.  But it’s Ric’s.”

“Oops.”

“Mm.”

“Does your current boyfriend know?  He was hunky, by the way.”

“Yes, he knows.”  Before I did.  “I didn’t think you got much of a look at him, the way you took off the other night.”

Suzanne ducked her head down, looking sheepish, and maybe a little ashamed.  “Richard and I were kind of in the middle of something before we got to the mixer.  I was a little distracted.  Then there was some kind of explosion in the parking lot or something, so I guess I’m glad I left early.  Were you still there when that happened?”

“You could say that,” she answered, not wanting to derail the conversation with an explanation of that debacle.  “I could tell you two had been, erm, a little busy before you showed up,” Jenna teased, making her blush.  “So, how long were you two…” Fucking?  “Seeing each other?”

“Since the first of the summer semester, when I was working that clinical trial with him.”  She reached for another cookie.  “Christ, I’m dumb.  I should have realized, the first time he…”  Suzanne broke off, obviously having said more than she intended to.

“The first time he what?”

“Nothing.  It’s nothing.”  She brushed the back of her hand over her eyes when fresh tears threatened, and blew out a breath.  “Anyway… I thought you were supposed to be at the lab this morning.  I checked there first, but they said you didn’t show.  Morning sickness?”

“Yeah,” she answered, leaving it at that.  “I’m never sure if things are going to stay where I put them.”

“So what are you going to do?  About your thesis and stuff?  Can you get another extension?”

That was a goddamned good question, wasn’t it?  “I don’t know.  I’m not sure I even dare to ask Professor Lee,” she said, shuddering at the thought. “Besides, it’s got to be easier to work on a thesis while preggars than once I have an infant, right?”  Oh God.  She was going to have an infant.  A tiny, helpless infant.  A tiny, helpless infant who would be depending on her for literally everything…

“Are you okay?” Suzanne asked, looking concerned.  “You just went really pale.  Do you need to hurl?”

“No, I’m all right.  Just had a little reality cramp, that’s all.”

The redhead stood, brushing cookie crumbs off of her ample chest.  “I have a class in an hour; I should go.  I’m sorry to just drop by out of the blue and have a freak-out on you.”

“No, it’s fine.  Stop by any time,” Jenna assured her, feeling a pang of guilt that the girl was leaving there thinking her boyfriend had left her without a second glance when he was, in fact, almost certainly dead.  But it wasn’t as though Jenna could tell her that.

“Are you coming to campus tomorrow?”

With Mitchell out of the way, there was no reason not to, was there?  “Yeah.  I should be there.”

“Great.  I’ll see you then.  Thanks for the tea and sympathy.”

“Anytime.”

Jenna watched her drive off, then carried the tray back inside.  Retrieving her cell phone from the counter, she sent Elijah a text message:  “MITCHELL ‘OUT OF COUNTRY,’ NOT COMING BACK. PROBABLY DEAD. SUZANNE NOT A WW, JUST SEEMINGLY JILTED GF.”  She doubted he’d check his messages until at least lunch, but perhaps it would be some small consolation to him.  She pressed send, and noticed that she had a voice message.  She listened to it while she put the leftover cookies away.

“Shit!!”  The message was from Carol, reminding her that they had a lunch meeting to go over last minute details for the shelter opening and dedication. Jenna glanced at the clock on the microwave.  No time for a shower.  She ran upstairs and threw on a blouse and the only clean pair of slacks she could find, noting as she strained to button them that they were suddenly a lot tighter than they had been.  She went into Elena’s room and stood in front of her full-length mirror, side-to.  With her stomach straining at the waistband of the fitted slacks, she could see the beginning of a baby bump.

Jenna drifted backward until her legs came up against Elena’s bed, and she folded herself down onto it as a second, harder reality cramp hit her.  Jesus.  This was real.  She was pregnant.  She was going to have a baby.  Her baby.  Hers – and Alaric’s.  Right now, inside of her body, she and he together were making a human.  A person.  Whether she wanted it or not (and she was pretty sure she didn’t), he was, quite literally, a part of her now.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until she heard her breath hitch on a sob.  Taking a few deep breaths and damning her hormones, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and stood, smoothing her blouse down over the slacks.  She would have to leave it untucked.  And do some laundry.  And eventually go shopping for some – gulp – maternity clothes.  Jenna turned to leave Elena's room, and spotted the address book on her desk.  She picked it up, running her hand over the cover for a moment before she sighed, and opened it to the S's.  Grabbing a pen and notepad, she scribbled down the number that Elena had written in for Alaric.

Just in case.

Just Enough Rope, Chapter 12

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I hate this.  I should know better than to take a hiatus from writing, even for a few days of dog shows.  My brain goes mushy, I lose what little semblance of continuity I have, and my characters punish me by refusing to do what I want them to.  Harumph.  I am Grumpy and Out Of Sorts, people.

Fanfiction.net link:  http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6910203/12/
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CHAPTER TWELVE

The call from Damon could not possibly have come at a better time. The officer investigating the bombing had been easy enough to compel into believing that the investigation was over and done with, but getting to that particular gentleman had been a veritable obstacle course of peons and red tape, so much so that he had at one point begun to consider the massacre of everyone in the building an actual, viable option.  After that experience, he was looking forward with particular relish to the opportunity to “interrogate a hapless subject.  Slipping his phone back into his breast pocket as he exited the police station, Elijah unlocked his new vehicle – a Range Rover this time – and headed toward the Salvatore house, where Damon and Marcus were sitting on an unknown vampire that they had dragged home during the wee hours of the morning.

Elijah had spent the first half hour or so after Jenna left berating himself for the mess he'd made of things.  Not that he could imagine any scenario in which a woman would prefer to be informed by her paramour of such matters, rather than the turnabout.  As if the baptism-by-fire into the world of the supernatural weren’t enough, now Jenna had this all too human situation to contend with.  The one, he would do all he could to protect her from.  The other… well, the choice of how to handle that would be hers, and hers alone.

And what of the child’s father?  Elijah was in no way anxious to see a return of Alaric Saltzman to Mystic Falls.  True, Jenna had thoroughly disavowed any desire to have further relation with the man, but that was before the whisper of a new life had tethered them inextricably together, in ways he doubted either would fully understand or appreciate immediately.  He had little doubt that Saltzman would leap at any opportunity to crawl back into Jenna’s life.  The only question was in what capacity Jenna would allow it.  And where exactly would he himself stand in the equation?

Where did he want to stand?

Question for another time.  Elijah shook it off and turned his attention to matters about which he could do something.  Such as their little “friends” on campus… He would need to somehow convince Jenna to stay away from there until the professor and whatever cohorts he had could be dealt with.  He didn’t believe for a moment that the location of the car bombing was a coincidence, especially when the professor himself had handed Jenna the parking pass for a reserved space.  That, coupled with his strange behavior and his digging at Jenna for information, made his involvement highly probable.  The question was at whose behest.

And yet… something felt off.  Of all the ways for another vampire – another Original – to come at him, a car bomb wouldn’t have made his list of top one hundred guesses.  It was too public, too indiscriminate, too unsubtle… and too ineffective.  But if Mitchell wasn’t in league with Sebastian or one of the others, why the full court press?  Surely Jenna’s scribbled notes regarding the supernatural weren’t enough to draw such a target on her back that a bombing was the de facto solution.  Either way, it was time he took a more proactive approach to dealing with the problem.  With that in mind, Elijah took his phone out again and began a series of phone calls.

~~~~~

Elijah's last call as he neared the Salvatore house went to Jenna’s number.  He was expecting to get her voicemail, so he was more than a little surprised when she answered with her usual, “Hey.”

“Jenna.  I wanted to call and check in.  How are you?”

“Pregnant.”

“Yes, I… think we covered that earlier.”

“I took a test anyway, just to be sure.  Well okay, I took six of them.”  He heard her sigh.  “Couldn’t you have been wrong, just this once?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  I think the donuts and the girl-talk have averted the five-alarm freakout.  I’m progressing to the ‘holy shit, what the hell do I do now?’ phase.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless Originals can alter the space-time continuum.”

“Sadly, no.”

“I figured.  What are you doing today?”

“Right now I’m headed out to the Salvatores’.  You?”

“I’m headed home shortly.  Conner has been fighting a nap for the last hour and he’s working himself up to a full-blown tantrum.  I’d prefer to spend a little more time in denial before facing the fact that I’m going to have one of those tantrum-throwing things.”

“Do you want me to come by later?”

“Would you be mad if I said no?  I want to talk to Elena and Jeremy, let them know about… you know.”

“Of course.  I understand.”

“How about later tonight, though?  I could drive up to your place.  I somehow doubt I’m going to be able to focus on my abstract anyway.”

“About that… I think it would be wise for you to stay away from campus until we have a better handle on all of the factors in play.”

“I don’t think that’s an option.”

“Neither is getting yourself killed.  Work from home.  The panel will accept your abstract.”  He’d seen to that.

“Can we argue about this later?”

“I prefer to think of it as a discussion.”

“Whatever.  And Elijah?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t even think about locking me up in your house again.”

 God, it was tempting.  “How about a vacation somewhere?  You could take Jeremy and Elena, go someplace warm…”

“I’m not running.  Or hiding.  Deal with it.”

“Duly noted.”  Elijah signaled and turned into the Salvatore driveway.  “I’m here.  I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah.”

Elijah ended the call and let himself into the house.  Damon, Stefan and Marcus were in the library.  He didn’t need super-hearing to hear the protests emanating from the cell down in the basement.  “Gentlemen.”

Damon rose and went to the bar to pour him a drink.  “That was quick.”

“I wasn’t far.  So, tell me about your guest.  Where did you find him?”

“Actually, he found us.  Showed up at the Grill after Caroline left.”  Damon shot Marcus a sidelong glance.  “He hit on Sophia.”

“It follows.  She's a beautiful woman.  Was she able to glean any information from him?”

“She might have, if Caveman here hadn’t gone all He-Man on him and invited him to step outside.”

Marcus shifted uncomfortably.  “He was all over her.”

“He had a hand on her elbow!”

Stefan leaned forward on the couch.  “Why don’t we go downstairs and see what he has to say?” he interjected, forestalling further argument between the other two vampires.

Elijah made an ‘after you’ motion, following the Salvatore brothers down the basement steps, Marcus bringing up the rear.  As they rounded the corner, the captive directed a string of invective in their general direction, invective that sharpened when he saw Marcus.  Damon threw the bolt on the door with a “yeah yeah yeah.”  The captive, outnumbered four to one, wisely chose to stand rather than making a break for it.

Saying nothing, Elijah casually slipped his jacket off and hung it on a hook outside the door.  Unbuttoning his cuffs, he made a show of rolling up his sleeves.  Not until he’d done so did he step forward and address the unknown vampire.  “What is your name?” he asked, conversationally.

“What the fuck is it to you?”

Too fast for the other vampires to see, Elijah shot his foot out, shattering the man’s left knee and bending his leg backward to about a 45-degree angle.  The vampire let out a loud shriek and sank down onto his good knee, fighting to stay upright even that much.  Elijah examined his fingernails, then asked, in the same tone of voice as before, “Your name?”

“Geoffrey Landan,” he spat out.

“See, that wasn’t so difficult.  Do you know who I am, Geoffrey?”

“Should I?”

With a roll of his eyes, Elijah wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him up so they were eye to eye.  "Perhaps I should explain how this works.  I ask you questions, and you answer them.  Without editorializing.  Now, I'll ask you again:  do you know who I am?"

The vampire eyed him contemptuously, but resisted the urge to smart off.  "No."

"Why are you here?"

“Because these assholes grabbed me and threw me in here!” he answered, glaring at Damon and Marcus in turn.

"Why are you here in town?"

"I was just passing through.  Jesus, is that a crime?"

Elijah gave him a small, cold smile and patted his cheek as he released the vampire's neck and set him on his good leg – only to kick it out from under him.  "I believe I warned you about editorializing."  Crouching down, Elijah balanced on the balls of his feet to put them at an even height, and tried to catch his eyes.  As he exerted his will, he could feel the younger vampire resisting him, setting off a mental tug of war between them.  Not vervain; the vampire's mind would have slid harmlessly away from his if he were dosed with the herb.  More likely he had been previously compelled to avoid further compulsion, or to resist Elijah specifically.  Landan kept his gaze on Elijah's though, giving him a strange smile.  He shifted his lower jaw to the side, grinding his teeth together.

A bright light flared from the vampire's mouth as it dropped open, giving his face a strange, eerie, lit-from-within effect and drawing a startled yelp from Marcus. A split second later, flames poured out of his mouth, nose, eyes and ears as his head was consumed in a flash inferno.  Elijah shot backward, away from the intense heat, as the chest split open.  Fire flowed like magma down over Landan’s ribs, igniting clothing and flesh as the flames fed greedily on the vampire’s corpse.  Hungry fingers of it reached out, seeking other materials it could use as fuel.  The rock floor and walls offered it nothing, but it made a couple of leaping grabs for the wooden beams overhead.    

Damon zipped around the corner and back in with a fire extinguisher.  Pulling the pin, he aimed and sprayed a layer of foam over what was left of the body, adding a chemical smell to the aroma of charred flesh.  Suffocated, the fire quickly sputtered and died out.  Damon remained poised with the extinguisher, watching for secondary flare-ups, but none sprang up, and he gradually relaxed his stance.

Once assured that the fire was indeed out, Stefan and Marcus crept closer to the body, peering at it with twin expressions of confusion.  Marcus cleared his throat.  “I think I speak for all of us when I say:  What the fuck just happened?”

Elijah sauntered closer, making a slow circle around the corpse as he studied it.  Globs of foam oozed off of the charred remains, taking with it blackened flakes of clothing and flesh.  Little remained of the vampire’s head; the skin and hair had burned away completely, while the skull had split from the sudden heat and its accompanying pressure, leaving the lower jaw swinging loose from one half as he stooped and picked up the two pieces.  He pulled the lower jawbone away from the upper and studied it, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.  Tossing it down next to the body, he flipped the pieces of the upper jaw over, squinting at the nubs of bone that had been teeth.

There.  On the left hand side, one of the back molars had been hollowed out.  If he looked closely, Elijah could see blackened, molten fragments of what had at some point been some sort of capsule.  He would have to have it examined to find out what it had held that could have caused the vampire to combust so quickly, but whatever the material used, one thing was clear – whoever had placed it there had gone to great pains to ensure that this particular minion would not talk if captured.

Elijah tossed the irrelevant half of the skull away and held up the part with the hollowed-out molar for them to see.  “Suicide capsule.”

“Capsule of what?” Damon asked, giving it that wild-eyed look of his.

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Vervain wouldn’t do that,” Stefan pointed out.

“No,” Elijah agreed.  “Some chemical that ignites when exposed to oxygen, perhaps…?”

Marcus stepped forward.  “Whatever it was, that light it gave off at the beginning was ultraviolet.  I felt it burn when it hit my skin.”

“Whereas we all have sun rings so it wouldn’t have affected us,” Damon finished the thought.

Elijah lifted his brows as he examined the upper jaw again, nodding in appreciation.  “How perfectly elegant,” he said, impressed.  He would most definitely have to have someone analyze the compound used.

“Elegant?” Stefan sputtered.

“Ultraviolet radiation to guarantee a rapid death and consumption.  Like a tiny sun, devouring him from the inside,” he breathed.  “It’s almost… poetic.”  And terribly, terribly clever.  Oh, he wanted some!

“You want some alone time with that?” Damon snarked, going across the hall and coming back with a large plastic tarp.  “A little help, here,” he added, shooting a look at Marcus and Stefan.

One corner of Elijah’s mouth lifted in a small smile.  “No, but I’ll be taking this with me.  I have people who can analyze what was used.” 

And hopefully duplicate it.

~~~~~

Dusk was just falling by the time Elijah and Damon returned from disposing of the body.  Elijah had secured his ‘prize’ at home, where it would await pick-up.  Stefan and Marcus had cleaned the room in the basement while they were out, and were settled in the great room, in front of the fireplace.  Damon broke out a new bottle of whiskey and passed four tumblers around.

Marcus accepted it and pulled out his cell phone to check it, huffing out a sigh and tossing it onto the coffee table when it showed no messages.  Downing the whiskey, he rose and refilled the glass, this time to the brim, before settling back onto the sofa.  Elijah lifted a brow in inquiry and tried to catch his eye, but Marcus was apparently settling himself in for a good long sulk.

“Sophia told him off and left him high and dry at the Grill last night, after the attack of the green-eyed monster,” Damon offered, by way of explanation.  “Speaking of women,” he continued, turning toward his brother, “where’s little miss Elena tonight?  Isn’t Saturday ‘date night?’”

“Jenna asked her to stay home this evening.”

“Cock-blocked by her aunt,” Damon drawled.  “Guess it’s just you and the five pointer sisters tonight.”

Stefan raised his glass to him in a mock salute.  “I’m sure you know them well.”

Damon settled into the wingback chair and put his feet on the ottoman.  “So I’m guessing we have this Sebastian guy to thank for our fiery friend?” he asked Elijah.

Elijah had been considering that.  “I don’t think so.”  Like the car bombing, it didn’t strike him as a move Sebastian would make.  Whereas the bombing was too loud and showy, this level of sophistication and elegance argued for a cooler and more subtle head than Sebastian’s.  “I would say Edmund, if I were to guess.”

That pulled Marcus out of his reverie for a moment.  “I thought you and he got along?”

“We do – to a point,” Elijah said, sipping his drink.

“I’m guessing not so much, now that you’ve killed his lackey,” Damon put in.

Elijah shrugged.  “Happens.”  His phone buzzed; Sophia, according to the caller ID.  He pushed the button to answer it.  “Sophia.”

Marcus sat bolt upright, looking at him expectantly.

“I think I may have a lead on where your professor and his little plaything will be this evening,” Sophia told him.  He could hear lots of background noise, as though she were at a party, or in a rather raucous bar.  “It sounds like they’re going to a meeting of sorts.  Shall I follow up?”

“Please.”

Where is she? Marcus mouthed at him, sotto voce.

“Marcus is here, Sophia.  He’d like to speak with you.”

“And I would like him to grow up and stop acting like a 203 year-old imbecile, but we don’t all get what we want, do we?”  No need to repeat for Marcus’s benefit; they could all hear both sides of the conversation perfectly well.  “I’ll call you tomorrow, Elijah.”  Sophia disconnected the call.

“Oooh, burn,” Damon muttered into his drink.

Marcus shot off of the couch and went back to the bar for another refill.  “You know, there was a time when women knew their place and did as they were told,” he spat as he seated himself again. 

Elijah snorted.  He was absolutely certain no such time had ever existed, and he had lived through many different times.  “Sophia is perfectly capable of handling herself with respect to the opposite sex.  In fact, as I recall, she was handling herself eighty years before you were born.”  Sophia’s calm and self-possession were two of the qualities that had made her stand out from amongst her peers at the expensive and highly exclusive French pleasure-house where Elijah had found her.  Two qualities that had eventually led him to turn her.

“Chill, Romeo,” Damon told him.  “And show some respect:  that’s good whiskey, not a ‘whine’ cooler.  How long have you been with this chick, anyway?”

“A hundred and eighty years.  Since she turned me.”

Damon let out a low whistle.  “No wonder.  Wait, you’re not saying you’ve been monogamous this whole time, right?”

“Yes, we have.”  His expression turned dark.  “Or at least I have.”

“I don’t understand; if you’ve been together for so long, why would you worry about some jerk in a bar?” Stefan asked.

Marcus looked like he was about to bolt his drink, but after a sidelong glance at Damon, he took a discreet sip instead.  “I think I’m losing her,” he admitted morosely.

“A hundred and eighty years is a pretty good run.  Don’t you think it’s time?” Damon asked.

“No, I don’t think it’s time!  I turned so I could be with her forever.  If it’s not forever, what was the point?”

Elijah stood, straightening his jacket as he did so, and fishing his keys out of his pocket.  “’Forever,’ when applied to love, is a concept meaningful only to those for whom there is zero possibility of it.  The rest of us would do well to simply appreciate what we have, while we have it.”  Seeing himself out, he planned to go and do just that.

Just Enough Rope, Chapter 11

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Surprise!  How’s that for a quick update?  

Since I’ll be at dog shows Thursday through Sunday and won’t have time to write and update, I took pity on the characters and didn’t leave them hanging from any cliffs.  Hope y’all will come back after the weekend anyway!  J

Fanfiction.net link:  http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6910203/11/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So what is love, then?  Is it dictated, or chosen?

Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand years, or is it just pop emotion?

And if it ever was there and it left, does it mean it was never true?

And to exist it must elude; is that why I think these things of you?

                                    -The Indigo Girls, “Mystery”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jenna stretched, rolled over, and reached an arm out, only to realize that she was alone.  Disappointed, she sat up, opening her eyes and rubbing sleep out of them.  Sunlight, filtered by the trees to the side of the house, shone through the windows; a quick glance at the clock showed her it was already past nine.  No wonder Elijah was already up and about.  She had slept like the dead. Heh, with the dead.  Heading into the bathroom to take care of the necessaries, she supposed she really shouldn’t be greedy, but she wouldn’t have minded a replay of last night.  Not at all.

Elijah had thoughtfully set her bag inside the door of the bedroom, so Jenna fished her clothes out and dressed, leaving her feet bare.  She pulled a brush through her hair, doing what she could with it, considering she had slept (among other things) on it wet.  Padding back into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, then decided she had forestalled the morning-after awkwards for as long as she could.

He was outside on the balcony that ran off of the kitchen, staring down over the lake.  Jenna took a moment to appreciate the view.  He hadn’t put on a jacket, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual look than he usually sported.  She didn’t think he’d ever look truly casual, not even naked.  Especially not naked.  The air of power and control was intrinsic to him; the suits had nothing to do with it.  In his case, the clothes didn’t make the man.  The man made the clothes.   

Spying the half-full coffee pot, she gave it a precautionary sniff.  Her stomach must have been inclined to forgive and forget the previous incident, because it smelled heavenly to her.  Fingers crossed, she opened the fridge.  Sure enough, there was a little carton of cream in there.  God.  The man really was perfect.  Well, except for that whole blood-sucking, undead, ancient vampire thing.  And even that had its perks, which he had more than amply demonstrated last night.  Jenna sighed.  She needed to be careful.  She was already half-way to stupid over him.

Smiling to herself, Jenna opened the French door and stepped out, suddenly wishing she had put some socks on. Joining him at the rail, she set her mug on it, next to his, and slid her arms around his waist.  “Hey.”  Okay, so as morning-after greetings went it wasn’t exactly witty.

“Good morning.”  He laid his arm across her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  He picked up his coffee and drank.  “How are you feeling?” he asked, gesturing toward her own mug.

“Fine.  I’m apparently over the coffee wiggins.  Thank God.”  She retrieved it and took a sip.  “You got up early,” she said, oh-so-casually.

“Mm.”

Well, that was nicely monosyllabic, she thought, when he seemed disinclined to say anything more.  Apparently even a thousand years of experience didn’t banish the awkwards.  Good to know.  She tried to think of something else to say, something that wouldn’t sound completely inane.  Or clingy.  Or needy.  Or too soon. The harder she thought about it, the more blank her mind became.  Great.  Apparently it actually is possible to screw your brains out.  Jenna balanced and put one foot on the calf of her other leg to warm it, then switched legs. Which did absolutely nothing to make her look or feel any brighter.  Or warmer.

“Here, you’re cold,” he said, turning her toward the door.  “Let’s go in.”

Jenna did as he bid, going to the coffee pot to top off her mug as he shut the door.  “So, any big plans today?” she asked, wincing at the over-bright tone in her voice that made her sound like some deranged, cracked-out Pollyanna.  Elijah merely lifted a brow at her, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.  “Okay, all right!  I suck at this morning after thing!  I never have any clue what to say.  ‘Hey, loved meeting your penis last night!’ just doesn’t really strike the right chord, you know?  It’s stupid, and it’s awkward, but there it is.  I am inept.”  She took a big swallow of her coffee, blushing furiously.

Elijah rubbed his hand over his mouth.  Jenna was pretty sure he was stifling a laugh.  “Jenna?”  He leaned on the island and held a hand out to her.  She rolled her eyes, but took it.  He raised it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers and, looking at her earnestly, told her, “I loved meeting your vagina, too.”

“Oh, shut up!”  She tried to pull her hand away, but Elijah wouldn’t let go, coming around the counter and pulling her to him, chuckling.  She put up a token resistance before snuggling against him, blushing and laughing.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” she agreed reluctantly.

“Good.  Because there’s something I need to ask you.”

“What?”

Elijah released her and lifted their coffee mugs from the counter, nodding toward the living room as he carried them in and set them on the coffee table.  Jenna followed, not sure she liked the sudden shift into seriousness.  She lowered herself onto the leather sofa, facing him as he sat.  “What?” she repeated, when he sat watching her.

He hesitated, then pushed forward.  “When was the last time you were with Alaric?”

Jenna paused with her coffee mug halfway to her mouth.  “Excuse me?”

“Intimately, I mean.”

 I know what you mean.  So help her God, if this was his roundabout way of calling her a slut, she was going to punch him in the balls, vampire or no.  “Yeah, I got that.”  Jenna set her mug back down, perhaps harder than strictly necessary, and crossed her arms in front of her.  “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell business it is of yours.”

“That’s not…”  He blew out a breath.  “I don’t mean to put you on the defensive.”

“Really.”

“I assure you, that wasn’t my intent.

“Because gee, Elijah, I don’t know.  How long has it been for you?”

Elijah closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “It wasn’t meant to be an inquisition.”

She gestured impatiently.  “Then what the hell kind of a question was that?”

“This isn’t going well,” he sighed.

“How exactly were you expecting it to go?!”

“Fine.  Let me rephrase the question, then:  When is the last time you bled?”

What. The. Fuck?  Then it dawned on her.  Jenna shook her head.  “Okay.  I get it.  The throwing up thing.  Jesus, Elijah.  A woman can hurl without her being pregnant.  Well, unless she’s on a soap opera.  Seriously.”

“That doesn’t actually answer the question, Jenna.”

“Christ!  I don’t know!  Things have been just a little crazy.  In case you hadn’t noticed.”  She’d had her period when… well, it would have been… she hadn’t had it since before she had stayed here, and that was… a month ago.  But before that… it was… she didn’t think she had had it since Isobel… which…

Unable to sit still, Jenna paced to the window, wracking her brain.  It couldn’t have been that long… could it?  Wouldn’t she have noticed?  Apparently not, a snide little voice popped up into her head to say.  She jumped when Elijah put his hands on her shoulders.

“Jenna.”

She shook her head vehemently.  “I need to think.  I just need to figure out…”

“Jenna, you’re – ”

“I’m not pregnant!”  I can’t be I can’t be I can’t be –

Elijah turned her to face him.  “I can hear your child's heartbeat,” he said quietly.  “You are pregnant.”

Heartbeat?  Jenna backed away from him, still shaking her head.  “No.  No no no no.”  She turned to look out the big window, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle the torrent of denial.  This was not happening.  This could not be happening.  She’d been careful.  They’d been careful.  They’d always used a condom.  Always? the voice mocked.  Almost always!  Maybe once or twice, when they hadn’t had one, or couldn’t wait…  It only takes once.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice hitching on a sob.  Elijah stroked a hand down her back, but she spun away from him.  “That’s it.  The final ‘eff you’ from the Universe.  The big, neon sign flashing over my head:  ‘Jenna is a monumental screw-up.’”  She dashed tears off of her cheeks and pulled her hair back from her face, resting her hands on the top of her head as she paced.  “It’s been almost four months.  How can I be four months pregnant and not even realize it?  Who does that?  Okay, really fat, stupid people on TLC do that.  Oh my God.”

Elijah reached a hand out to her on one of her passes by, but she avoided it.  “I have to get out of here,” she decided.

“Why don’t you wait for a bit until – ”

“No!  I have to go.”  Jenna strode out to the kitchen, searching the table by the door for her keys.

“Jenna – ”

“Just – leave me alone.  I have to get out of here.”  She found the keys and headed toward the door.

“Jenna – ”

“I have to go!”

“Shoes.”

“What?!”

Elijah glanced down at her feet.  Her bare feet.  “I’ll get them.  Just… hold a moment.”  He disappeared into the bedroom, returning with her shoes in one hand and her bag in the other.  Sniffling, she took the shoes and stuffed her feet into them.  “I wish you wouldn’t leave while you’re this upset.”

“I… I just have to go.  I need to think.  I’m s-sorry.”

Elijah took her chin and tilted her face up to him.  “Please be careful?”

Jenna nodded, took her bag, and left.

~~~~~

When Andie opened the door to her apartment, Jenna held the bag from the drug store up in front of her.  “I have to pee on these,” she told her.

Andie’s eyebrows climbed halfway up her forehead. “Uh… okay…”

Jenna pushed past her and marched down the hallway to the bathroom.  “Who wants to watch Cars?” she heard the witch ask brightly.

Conner’s footsteps thundered past the closed bathroom door.  “Me me me!” 

“Okay.  You sit down baby, and Mommy will bring you some popcorn, okay?”

“Yay!” 

Jenna opened the first pregnancy test while Conner made car noises in the living room, then thought, screw it and opened all of them, so that by the time Andie had gotten Conner settled and tapped on the door, she had six sticks of varying shapes and sizes all sitting on the sink and taking their requisite amounts of time to process.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”  Jenna was sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at the collection when Andie opened the door and stepped in. 

The witch folded down the toilet cover and sat.  “Okay, sweetie.  What’s going on?”

“I had sex with Elijah last night and I’m pregnant,” Jenna told her, checking her watch and grabbing the first stick.  Big fat plus sign.

“I… don’t think that’s quite how it works.”

Jenna checked the second stick.  The readout said ‘pregnant.’  “No, not… It was Alaric.  Obviously.  But Elijah told me I was pregnant.”

Andie raised her eyebrows and looked off to the side.  “Awkward…”

She looked at the third stick.  Another plus sign.  “He said he could hear the heartbeat.  How fucked up is that?”

“Pretty fucked up,” she agreed.

“Shit.  Where’s that box?” she asked, looking at the fourth.  “Is it one line or two for ‘Oh my God you are totally screwed?’”

Andie stood and took her arms as Jenna started pawing frantically through the bag, looking for the right box.  “All right, hon’, I think it’s pretty safe to say that you are indeed pregnant.  Let’s throw these away and go sit, okay?”

Jenna let herself be led out to the kitchen and nudged into a chair.  Andie set a cup of coffee in front of her and dropped a bag of chocolate donuts onto the table.  Jenna took one and bit into it morosely.  Andie sat down opposite her and grabbed a donut for herself.  “Okay, first things first:  how far along are you?”

“Three and a half, four months?”

“You didn’t have any inkling?”

“With everything that’s been happening?”  Jenna took a sip of coffee.  “I… I never even gave it a thought.  Isobel happened, and then I wasn’t having sex, so I just wasn’t that aware of having my period.  Or not, as the case may be.”

“Understandable, I guess.  Wow.”

“Yeah.”  Jenna polished off the donut, washed it down with her coffee, and reached for another.  “What the hell am I going to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t think I really have any choice, do I?  I mean, four months?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe not.  I mean… I don’t know.”  Andie rose and refilled her coffee cup, then poured milk into a sippy cup and took it out to Conner.  “What about Ric?” she asked as she came back into the kitchen.

Jenna folded her legs and pulled her feet up onto the chair with her to sit cross-legged.  “I don’t even know where he is.

“He shouldn’t be too hard to find.  We can check with Damon; I bet he knows.”

“I don’t even know if I want to tell him.”

“And I get that, but… don’t you think you should?”

Jenna glanced in the direction of the living room, where Conner was saying lines along with the movie.  “Did you tell his father?”

“Little different circumstance.  He’s aware, but… it wasn’t exactly like either one of us had a choice.”

Come to think of it, Andie never had told her about Conner’s father.  “How do you mean?”

Andie shook her head.  “Another story for another time.  We’re talking about you now.”

“I don’t know what else there is to say.  I’m knocked up.  By my ex-boyfriend, who is God-knows-where.  And I’m apparently so stupid that my current boyfriend had to point it out to me.”

Andie reached for a second donut as well, muttering something under her breath about how she’d known she shouldn’t have bought them.  “So how did that go?”

Jenna shrugged.  “He was pretty sweet about it.  I think.  I don’t know.  It’s all sort of a blur right now.  I stayed there last night after the bombing, and we – ”

“Whoa, wait!  After the what, now?”

“Oh.  Yeah.  We went to that mixer thing on campus last night.  Elijah’s car got car-bombed.”

Andie stared at her, wide-eyed for a moment, then started to giggle, though she tried not to.  “Girlfriend, the fact that a car-bombing didn’t even seem worth mentioning should maybe make you ask yourself some things about your current lifestyle.”

Jenna’s sense of humor kicked in, and she started to giggle too.  That fed Andie’s laughter, which in turn kept hers going, and before long they were both sitting at the table, howling.  Jenna wasn’t even aware of when she started crying instead.

Andie pulled a chair over next to Jenna, dropping and arm around her shoulders.  “All right, sweetie.  Everything will work itself out, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Liar.”

“Yup.”

Jenna cried on Andie’s shoulder for a little while, gradually getting herself under control.  When she was, she took a napkin off the table and blew her nose.  “Well that was nicely bipolar.”

“Hormones.  You’re entitled.”  Andie stood and went to the coffeepot, only to realize it was empty.  “So, to recap,” she said, as she started fixing another pot, “Elijah has people bombing his car, you had sex with him, and he informed you you’re pregnant.  Since you obviously survived the bombing, and I think we’ve covered the pregnancy thing, let’s get down to what really matters and talk about the sex.”

“You are such a pervert.  No wonder we’re friends.”

“Come on, dish.”

Jenna broke a half off of one of the remaining donuts.  “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

Jenna smiled, and decided to let her friend distract her for a little while.  “Well, first…”

Just Enough Rope, Chapter 10

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Sorry for the delay, y’all.  I had a bit of a rage blackout after Thursday’s finale episode.  At least now I have the four-month hiatus to recover.  If I ever can.  Julie and Kevin, I’m watching you.  >:-/

So, without further ado, part two of the scene I feel like I should ground myself for writing, since I’m too old for my mom to do it.  *deep blush*   I am SO not letting my husband read this sequel.

Let the tomato throwing begin.

Fanfiction.net link:  http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6910203/10/Just_Enough_Rope

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CHAPTER TEN

Elijah lifted Jenna down, keeping his hands on her waist until he was sure her legs were going to support her – and was privately pleased with his efforts when she grasped his upper arms to steady herself for a moment.  He hid the smirk by reaching back to turn off the water.

“That was…” Jenna sighed.

“A good start,” he finished for her, catching her mouth for a smoldering kiss before opening the shower door and grabbing a couple of towels from the rack.  He draped one over her shoulders and rubbed the other across his shoulders and torso, wicking water off of his skin as efficiently as possible.  While she dried off, he sped out to the bedroom, lighting candles and starting the gas fireplace so that when Jenna emerged from the bath, the room was warmly lit by the glow of the flickering light.

She glanced around, impressed.  "This vamp speed thing must come in really handy when it comes time to do housework."

"Mm."  Elijah crossed to her, watching the firelight play off of her skin, flushed and moistened from the steamy bathroom.  Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers, soft and sweet.  As heated as things had been in the shower, he preferred to bank that fire and feed it slowly; flames that burned too hotly flashed over and were quickly extinguished.  He had every intention of making this last.

Jenna circled his wrists with her hands, turning to press a kiss into each of his palms.  Elijah rested his forehead against hers as he drew her against him, stroking one hand through her hair to comb through the wet tangles while his other arm circled her waist, holding her close.  "I'm glad you're here tonight," he told her.

"Me too."  With a deep sigh, she settled against him, nuzzling her face against his neck and holding onto him.  "I was scared," she whispered.

"Shhhhh..."  He rubbed his hand down her back, then up; down and back, in a slow, soothing motion over and over again, until Jenna relaxed fully against him, and her heart rate took on a even, steady rhythm.  Only then did he pull back just enough to kiss her again.  He took his time, caressing her lips with his as he traced lazy circles along the back of her neck with his fingertips.  He felt her hand stroke along his jaw, her thumb brushing the cleft in his chin. 

Jenna brought her arms up around his neck, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and off of his forehead as she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, suckling at it for a moment before she pulled her mouth away from his and moved it down his chin, flicking her tongue where her thumb had just been and trailing kisses down his neck. She moved into him, pushing him back a step, toward the bed.  Elijah smiled and let himself be pushed until he felt the sueded microfiber against the backs of his legs.

Pulling back and looking into his eyes, Jenna raised one eyebrow at him and pushed a hand into the center of his chest.  Acquiescing, he sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on her waist to try and bring her with him, but she put her hands on his shoulders, resisting.  Taking his face into her hands, as he had done to her earlier, she bent and kissed him deeply.  Wrapping his arms around her hips as the passion flared between them again, he made to turn and roll her onto the bed.  Once more, however, she resisted.  It appeared she had other ideas.

Jenna tore her mouth away from his and knelt slowly down onto the carpet, between his knees.  Smoothing her hands first along the tops of his thighs, then along the insides, she locked her eyes with his in a smoldering, wicked look and took him into her mouth.

Elijah hissed out a breath as her lips and tongue touched him, followed by fingers that softly caressed and kneaded all of the sensitive areas.  "Jenna – "

"Shhhhh," she parroted back at him, making him shiver as he felt as well as heard it.  Needing something to do with his hands, he stroked her hair as she worked her magic on him.  It was always obvious when a woman didn't really enjoy what she was doing, only participating out of some misguided sense of obligation; that wasn't the case with Jenna.  She did enjoy it, just as he had enjoyed her earlier.  Satisfied that she was content, Elijah let his head fall back and surrendered to her.

Sensing his acquiescence, she took all of him in briefly, pulling a gasp from him as all of his senses jumped several steps up the alert scale.  He both heard and felt her chuckle at his reaction, which sent another shockwave ripping through him, making him curse and tighten his fingers in her hair before he consciously made himself let go, gripping the coverlet instead.  Her tongue dancing over a particularly sensitive spot made his whole body spasm involuntarily as a groan escaped him.

Normally a very patient man, Elijah was reminded forcefully – yet again – that his body had been ignored in this manner for far, far too long, and Jenna was taking full advantage of that lapse, making him shudder and jerk and gasp as her mouth flirted over him, by turns playful and forceful.  He had to make her stop.

"Jenna..."

"Mmm..."

Jolt!  His hips jerked forward as that hum, low in her throat, brought him right to the brink.  He bit down on his lip, hard.  "Jenna, you – "

She closed around him, pressing her thumb to the base of him and running it upward.  Jolt!  "You have to – "

Again, she took the whole length of him in, and he felt the delicious rasp of teeth as she withdrew.  Jolt! 

"Jesus, Jenna, you need to – " JOLT!  He gasped in a ragged breath.  "You can't –  I can't –  "

Her dark eyes looking up at him, she fluttered her tongue over him as he whimpered, and as the last of his control started to shred, he saw triumph in them.  Gripping her fingers hard around him, she took him in deep again, and shot him over the edge.

The force of the climax made his back arch hard enough that he heard it snap as he poured himself into her, rocking against her lips as each spasm shook him.  He dimly registered a ripping noise as he clenched the coverlet in his fist, trying to anchor himself.  Wave after wave her mouth worked him, until he was fairly certain he was going to die from the sheer sensation of it and resurrect sometime later in the evening.  At last he spent himself and, shuddering and gasping, fell back on the bed, his feet still on the floor and Jenna rising up to stand between them, her mission accomplished.

His eyes closed, Elijah felt her weight settle on the bed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.  He cracked one eye open and glanced up to see her lying on her stomach, her head near his, sporting a very self-satisfied smirk.  "Quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?" he murmured.

The smirk widened a little.  "Not as pleased as you are, I think."

"Oh?"  In a quick blur, Elijah moved so that he was over her, his teeth nipping lightly at the back of her neck, making her squeal.

"Hey!  You aren't supposed to be able to move yet, mister!"

"I'm a vampire," he reminded her, running his tongue along her ear-lobe.  "We recover quickly."  He slipped one hand underneath her on the bed, cupping her breast with it.

"Mm," she groaned.  "I seem to remember something about that now."

On his hands and knees over her, Elijah pressed kissed after kiss along Jenna's neck and spine, nipping here and there as he went and caressing her breast, her side, her hip.  She pushed up on one hand, as though to turn over, but Elijah pressed his weight to her to keep her from turning.  "Uh-uh," he murmured.  Using his knee to part her legs a little, he kissed the small of her back and reached around her hip to stroke his hand between her legs.

Jenna moaned and arched her back up a little.  Elijah let his fingers play over her as he slid back up her body.  Feasting on her neck and shoulders, he kept his senses trained on her, waiting for a jump in heart-rate and the scent of hormones to tell him when she was ready.

When she was, he raised her hips and slid inside her.

Jenna groaned and gripped the covers, just as Elijah had earlier.  He covered her hand with his, pulling almost out of her before sliding home again.  The third time, a sudden gasp and the answering kick in her heartbeat showed him he had found the spot; after that, he hit it unerringly.  When she started to clench around him, he took her harder and felt her jerk underneath him as she came.

As her tremors subsided, Elijah slowed his rhythm and wrapped an arm underneath her, straightening so he was on his knees and pulling her up with him, giving his hands full access to the front of her.  He stilled his hips and let his fingers bring her back after a short lull, resuming movement when her breath started coming in quick pants again to send her flying back over the edge.

Elijah held that pattern until he felt himself getting close.  Humans were fragile, and even with the best of intentions, too tight a grasp in the throes of passion could crush her.  Afraid of hurting her when the time came, he separated from her and lay back, urging her on top.  He let Jenna take control from there, setting her own rhythm.

This time, when she went, he went with her.

~~~~~

Jenna stretched out beside him, laying her head on his shoulder.  Elijah pulled the blanket up around her when he felt the gooseflesh along her arm.  "There were supposed to be chocolates, and a truly excellent bottle of wine, you know," he murmured into her hair.

"Mmm... chocolate," she said drowsily, snuggling into him.  She was asleep within minutes.

Elijah lay there, listening to the sounds of the night before he too dropped off to sleep.

~~~~~

Kingdom of Wessex, England, 883 A.D.

It was well after midnight and into the morning when Elijah let himself in through the servants’ quarters.  In the three weeks since he had returned home from battle – a battle from which they had finally emerged victorious, thanks to the ritual he and the others had undergone – it had become his custom to leave the household when it started bustling in the mornings, returning at night when all had quieted.  Then, he could sit in his study and hear himself think.  He could walk through the house without being accosted at every turn by someone wanting something.  He could exist in the same house as his family without wanting to tear their throats out.

This night, though, when he passed silently down the hall and crept into his study, his wife was there, awaiting him.

Leah had lit only a single candle, but the light was more than adequate for his now-heightened senses.  She was in her shift and dressing gown, as though she had risen from bed, unable to sleep.  As he entered the study, she pushed aside the blanket she had draped over her legs to guard against the chill.  Her long, dark hair was unbound and fell in curls almost to her waist, which was barely wider than it had been when he had wed her, despite her having born him five children.  She stood, and Elijah could see just by her stance that his days of politely avoiding her had come to an end.

"The hour is late," he told her, rather unnecessarily.  "You should be abed."

"Yes, I should.  With my husband."  Leah moved to stand in front of him, reaching out a hand and placing it on his arm to stop him when he would have stepped around her.  "Your return has been nearly one month hence, Elijah, yet you have barely spoken.  Indeed, you are barely present.  What troubles you so, my love?"

"Nothing you need dwell on.  I should review the household accounts."  He moved to go around her again. 

She took his hand as he tried to pass.  "Was it something that happened in battle?"

"We won the battle," he answered shortly, freeing his hand.  "Now, please:  return to bed and allow me to work."  Elijah moved the candle from the stand by the divan and set it on the desk, pulling a large ledger from the shelves behind it.  Cracking it open to the last three months' worth, he sat in the chair and uncapped the inkwell.

Leah slapped her hand on the ledger and gave it a mighty shove, sending it flying off the side of the desk.  Elijah leapt up to avoid being sprayed with the ink as the book clipped it and knocked it off the desk.  "Bloody hell!  Are you mad, woman?!"

"Bloody right I am!"  She rounded the desk, all but pinning him to the bookcase with a finger drilled into his chest.  He could see her working herself up to a truly fine temper.  "You disappear all day and for most of the night, and for the few hours you are here, you do whatever necessary to avoid me and the children.  You are not injured, not that I can see, nor are you ill.  This is not like you, Elijah.  My God, Mary came running and hid beneath my skirts this morning after you passed her on your way out the door.  Your own daughter has grown frightened of you!"  Leah emphasized the last with another vicious jab to his chest.

"Perhaps she should be.  Perhaps you all should be."

"Does this have to do with that foolishness with Klaus?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.

Foolishness?!  He had to get away from her.  He stepped to the side, only to have her block him again.  In the next breath, he had her shoved against the bookcase, his hand around her throat.  "Yes, Leah.  That foolishness with Klaus.  That foolishness that made it possible for us to save our homes here."  Elijah felt her pulse flutter under his thumb, where it pressed against her throat. He could hear it whispering to him, calling from under her skin.  He could feel his own veins filling around his eyes as fangs pressed against his lip.

With a monumental effort of will, he whirled away from her, crossing the room to lean his arms on the mantel over a long-cold hearth.  He sucked in deep breath after deep breath and clenched his fists, anything he could think of to keep from crossing the room again and tearing out his wife's throat.

"Helen fled, you know,” she said conversationally, into the charged silence.  “Before Klaus could return home again.  She said that he was no longer her husband, that he had become a monster."

Elijah clenched his eyes shut, afraid the emotion there would spill over.  "Helen was right," he whispered, laying his head on his arms. 

He jerked, startled when slipped her arms around his waist and pressed against his back.  "Helen was a fool," she told him, her disdain for the woman clear.  "Klaus was always a monster.  No arcane ritual was necessary to demonstrate that; anyone with eyes could see it.  Elijah, look at me."

"Please," he begged.  "Leah, don't."

"Look at me," she said, more firmly.  When he still didn't move, she slipped around to the side and turned his face toward her. 

He didn't know how much was visible to her in the dim light, but he could still feel vestiges of the bloodlust marking him.  The thought of what he could do to her... what he wanted to do to her…

But Leah was not a woman easily cowed.  She took his face into her hands, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks, under his eyes where the veins still ran dark and ugly.  She pressed her lips to his.  "You are not a monster, Elijah.  You. Are. My. Husband.  Whatever this... this thing is that Klaus has pressed upon you, I will not allow it to take you.  I will not allow him to take you.  Do you understand me?  I will not allow it.  You belong to me."

He turned his face from her, unable to bear the scrutiny.  “Leah, please…” he whispered hoarsely.  He wasn’t even certain what he begged her for.  Space?  Understanding?  Absolution?

"Hush.”  Leah pulled him to her.  He resisted at first, but her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck soothed him, and he let his head fall onto her shoulder, let her give him that small comfort.  “I need you,” she told him softly.  “Our children need you.”

He held her to him.  “There will be no more.”  It was the first time he’d said it out loud, that he had let himself think it, really.  Whatever magic or demonic force – he no longer knew which – drove him, he knew that he had died.  Whether he was man or demon now, he was dead, and life did not spring from death.  He could add no more to their family.

Leah pulled away from him.  Taking his hand, she placed it on her belly, under her dressing gown.  “There will be one more.”  Startled, he stared into her eyes.  She met his gaze steadily.  “Before you rode out, you left something behind.”

Slowly, he spread his fingers out, and felt the small bump underneath, where she was just beginning to swell with his sixth, and final, child.  His emotions, kept viciously dammed to that point, surged and broke through, crashing and raging through him until he was certain they must drown him, but through the maelstrom she held him, kept him anchored to her, to himself, to what he had been before he had allowed Klaus to change him.  “It will be all right,” she murmured to him, over and over as she held him to her.

And for just that little bit, he had allowed himself to believe her.

~~~~~

Jenna shifted and rolled over, waking Elijah from the dream.  He rolled with her and spooned against her back, his arm draped over her.  She sighed contentedly and locked her fingers with his, dropping back into sleep after a few moments.  Elijah remained awake, senses trained around him.  

He couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamt of Leah.  He had long ago trained his conscious mind not to think of her, not to let his mind dwell there.  Because he had hurt her.  But not that night.  That night he had let her lead him to their bed, and made love to her.  He had held her against him when she slept, listening to her slow, steady breathing, and the fluttering, staccato beat of his unborn child’s heart.

Just as he could hear Jenna’s child now.

Elijah slipped his hand out of hers and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he sorted through all of the implications of that realization.

An hour later, still awake, he slipped quietly out of bed and left the room.