Grayson suppresses the urge to groan as her consciousness begins to surface, the deep sleep she was in now interrupted. Her nose scrunches when she feels someone pull her comforter up to her chin, softly tucking her further into the bed. She rolls over, throwing an arm and a leg out, only to be stopped by another body resting peacefully beside her. Her eyes snap open and meet melting ice, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Damon," she states groggily. "Were you watching me sleep?"
He rolls his eyes, sinking down against the headboard. His arm lies limply to the side, offering Grayson his body warmth to snuggle in to. "No," he replies. "I slept in here last night, remember? I woke up a few minutes ago and was waiting for Stefan to call me."
"Oh," she replies as she curls up to his side. Her eyes slip closed again but she listens as Damon explains why his brother had to call.
"Speaking of," Damon mutters in the middle of his story-telling. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and clicks accept call, putting it on speaker for Grayson to hear.
"What's going on?" Stefan questions.
"Well, I showered-" he pauses when the Hunt mutters 'a few minutes my ass'. He gives her a look before returning to the call. "I shaved. Had breakfast. Very relaxed,"
"That makes one of us," the youngest Salvatore tells him.
"I did hear one piece of good news though," Damon stalls for dramatic effect. "Tyler Lockwood ran away from home last night,"
"How do you know?" Stefan asks.
"Well, I heard it from Sheriff Forbes, who heard it from a very distraught Carol Lockwood, thus, ending our werewolf chapter, bringing us to..."
"...killing Elijah."
Grayson opens her eyes, looking up at Damon blankly. He arches an eyebrow in question and instead of expressing her thoughts, Grayson sinks farther into the Salvatore's side.
"Exactly," chirps Damon.
"Well, it's not going to be easy." Stefan informs his brother. "He's crafty."
"And old," Grayson pipes up.
"Well, I've got a crafty little dagger," Damon says.
"He's an Original. We don't know what all that encompasses,"
"Oh, trust me, Stefan. I'm gonna dot my i's and cross all my t's. I don't want any surprises,"
"Wow, Damon, tell me you're actually gonna be careful for once?"
"Yes, Stefan, I've become you. How tragic for both of us. Got to run. I've a murder to plan. Busy day," Damon hangs up and releases a heavy sigh.
Grayson, having heard the banter between the two, gives her friend an exasperated look. "I'm so glad I don't have siblings,"
"Mm," he hums. He gracefully slips out of her bed and heads toward the door, not stopping once as he calls over his shoulder, "get dressed. We've got to go conspire."
••
Grayson sits opposite Alaric, leaning back in her chair and lazily looking around The Grill. Her first priority wasn't necessarily killing Elijah, but her friends didn't have to know that.
"Other than your lecture on the history of Mystic Falls, did you get anything out of Elijah?" Damon asks Ric, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at the History teacher.
"No, it was boring." Ric replies bitterly. "Of course, Jenna thinks he's charming."
"I mean," Grayson raises her eyebrows as she leans forward to take a sip of her drink. "You'd be stupid not to think Elijah's charming."
Ric gives the vampire a disapproving look. "You too, Grayson? Seriously?"
The Hunt girl shrugs, carefree. "Just because he's our 'enemy' doesn't mean I can't appreciate that he has a pretty face."
The Saltzman mutters something under his breath, earning a flat look from Grayson and a smirk from Damon. "You sounded jealous," the Salvatore points out. He looks at Andie and asks, "Sound a bit jealous?"
"Kinda do," the news anchor agrees, not that anyone's surprised.
Ric, thinking on the same track as Grayson, side eyes Andie with caution. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here,"
Damon grins, "Andie, she's been compelled not to divulge my secrets." He glances at the said woman. "Haven't you?"
"Uh-huh," she nods. Damon leans in for a quick kiss and she beams. "Mmm. My lips are sealed,"
"Jesus Christ," Grayson groans.
"This is too weird," Ric voices.
"I just need the right opportunity," Damon tells them, going back to their earlier conversation. A smug smile graces the vampire's face when Jenna and Elijah saunter into The Grill. "Ah, there's Jenna with her new boyfriend." He waits until they approach their table to greet them. "Hi,"
"Hey, guys." Jenna waves.
"So I hear you two had quite a meeting of historical minds today," Damon starts.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Well, as much as I'd like to continue this," Ric stands up and gets his wallet out, trying to pay and leave as fast as he can. "I've got papers to grade."
"Yeah," Grayson stands from her chair and gives the teacher a pleading look. "I too, need to grade papers."
Damon blinks a few times, shaking his head at the vampire's excuse.
"No, you know what?" Andie's voice stops all movement at the table. "We should continue this. Let's have a dinner party,"
"I'm wearing sweats," Grayson blurts out before anyone can object or confirm the idea.
"She'll wear something nice, don't worry." Damon gives Grayson a cautious look, silently begging the girl not to lash out. When Grayson expresses no murderous urges, Damon looks back at the group. "I'll be happy to host," He chirps. "Say tonight. Maybe?"
"It's good for me," Andie informs him. "Jenna?" She asks.
Ric shifts uncomfortably. "I don't know if tonight works..."
"Yeah, I'm free." Jenna responds.
Elijah takes a glance at Grayson, grinning when he sees her offput look. "It'd be a pleasure,"
"Great," Damon smiles. He stands from the table, shuffling closer to Grayson's side. "Grayson and I will see you all later." He presses a hand to her back and urges her to the door, knowing a stern bitching is coming his way.
"I hate you, I hate you," Grayson snaps as soon as they're out the door. "Not only do you get to cook and clean now, but you also get to go pick out my outfit for this evening."
"I don't—"
"I don't care," the Hunt hisses. "Just—just make sure it's comfortable."
Damon mumbles a string of insults under his breath but quickly smiles when Grayson shoots him a harsh look. "What was it you were saying about not wanting siblings this morning?"
Grayson stops in her tracks, putting her hands on her hips. "Is that what you're doing? Playing big brother and making my life miserable?"
Damon lets out a nervous laugh before patting the older vampire on the back, "I've got to go dress shopping. See you tonight,"
••
Grayson cocks her head as Damon presents the dress to her, the thought put into it making a smile rise to her lips. It was a red-orange toned dress that was a mock wrap around and it was long— just like Grayson had told Damon she liked. The Hunt grabs it from his hands, a fond glint to her eyes. "Where'd you steal it from?"
Damon gapes, a scoff escaping his mouth. "I didn't steal it. I actually bought it, if you'd like to know."
Grayson stands stunned. "Wow," she clears her throat. "I like it, so thank you."
Damon shifts on his feet. "Well," he mumbles. "I knew you'd look nice in it, so-" he cuts himself off.
Grayson squints at him for a few seconds before sighing heavily. "Okay, dude." She shakes her head. "Thanks for the dress, but this is getting too intimate and I'm a little too gay for that to be happening, so uh—"
"Jesus Christ," a voice from the door interrupts them. Their eyes snap toward the sound and an amused Alaric stands present. "You two are a train wreck, aren't you?"
"Mm," Grayson murmurs. She gives Damon a fleeting look before she brushes past him, sauntering upstairs so she could get dressed.
Ric and Damon stare at each other for a good second before the Saltzman shakes his head and shuffles back into the dining room.
••
Grayson walks into the library to hear Ric expressing his concerns about the night. "This is a bad idea,"
"Really?" Grayson deadpans, leaning against the door frame. "Where'd you get that idea?"
Damon looks up at her voice, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. "There's no such thing as a bad idea. Just poorly executed awesome ones." He fills two glasses of Bourbon and tries to give Ric one. "Here,"
"No," Ric refuses. "I don't like the idea of Elijah being in the same house with Jenna."
Grayson strolls further into the room and plucks the cup of Bourbon from the vampire's hand.
"Jenna's perfectly safe," Damon reassures his friend. "Besides, it's just a fact-finding mission. It's totally harmless."
"Just a fact-finding mission?" Alaric questions skeptically.
"Yeah," The Salvatore nods. He side eyes Grayson who's smirking before masking his face with certainty.
"Listen, no sneak attacks." Ric instructs. "No surprise plans. Nothing that's gonna put Jenna in harm's way. Okay?"
"Scout's honor," Damon tells his friend.
Grayson grins, imagining Damon in Boy Scouts as a child. She takes another sip of her Bourbon, her eyes pointedly watching over the glass as Damon puts his hand on Ric's shoulder and leans in.
"Hey," Andie interrupts their moment. "Jenna needs help with the wine,"
Damon looks at Ric, smiles, and pats his arm reassuringly.
"Thanks," Andie smiles.
"Yeah," Ric nods once and leaves the library.
Grayson, having been waiting for Damon's deception, beams when the younger vampire shuffled to a trunk and opens it—revealing the dagger meant to kill an Original.
"What's that?" Andie questions, not having left the room.
"Dessert," Damon chirps.
"Mm," Grayson hums, leaning against the arm of one of the couches. "I was for sure I bought cake for dessert, but I guess not."
Damon gives her an irritated look, dipping the dagger in the ash. "Elijah's stronger than me," he begins. "Faster than me. It's all about the element of surprise."
"He's not stronger or fast than me," Grayson pipes up, sipping the last of her Bourbon.
Damon smiles wryly. "No, but he matches you in speed and strength, which means he's still capable of hurting you."
Grayson doesn't respond so Andie takes it upon herself to shuffle forward, a plastic smile gracing her lips.Ah, it's too bad. I like him. He's very old-school. Classy,"
"I thought the same thing about Damon at first," Grayson deadpans. "Now look where we are."
Damon glares at her, flashing his play thing a sweet smile. "You think he's classy, which is why you should encourage the gentlemen to take their after dinner drinks in here while you do coffee in the kitchen with the girls." He places the behind the glasses and the Bourbon, hiding it from the view of his guests.
"Hmm," Andie hums in a disapproving tone. "That is a little too sexist for me."
"I agree," Grayson murmurs.
Damon turns around and looks at Grayson first, shaking his head. "Don't encourage her." He glances at Andie, "and you— stop talking."
Andie smiles at him, falling silent.
"Come on," Grayson sighs. "Let's get back out there before your girlfriend turns into a robot."
•••
Grayson falls into stride with Damon, her shoulder brushing against his as they both shuffle toward the front door.
"Who invited him?" Jenna asks, disgust lacing her tone.
Grayson leans against the doorframe and Damon does the same after moving past a sulking Jenna. "John," the Salvatore greets blandly. "Surprise. Leave."
John stands unbothered as he makes his way past the vampires, his lips pulled into a smug smile. "When Jenna told me she was coming to a dinner party for Elijah, I decided I couldn't miss out on all the fun and games."
"You decided that, did you?" Grayson folds her arms against her chest.
Ric enters the room, "There are not going to be any games tonight, John. It's just a friendly dinner party."
John glances back at Damon and Grayson with raised eyebrows.
"What he said," Damon agrees.
Grayson smiles, "so kindly get the hell out of our house."
"Your house?" John taunts, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Damon's face turns stony. "Yes, her house."
Jenna, sensing the tension between the trio, plasters a friendly look upon her face. "Let's move into the dining room, shall we?"
Grayson keeps eye contact with John as she saunters past him. "We shall,"
•••
Grayson stands from her chair in the dining room, meaning to seek out a missing Damon. Her dress sways as she saunters into the foyer, calling out for her friend.
"Grayson," Elijah's voice replies to her instead.
The Hunt is stunned to find a burst of warmth in her chest at the sight of the Original. "Elijah," she greets politely. "Nice to see you again."
"Very," he agrees as he moves to her. He pulls her into a short hug, unbothered that she didn't reciprocate his actions. "How are you?"
Grayson hums, choosing not to answer.
"Well," Elijah's smile widens at her reluctance. "You look incredible."
"Yes, well," she looks past the Original's shoulder and beams at her friend. "We have Damon to thank for that."
Elijah's eyebrows raise but he doesn't comment when Damon brushes past him, grabbing Grayson's hand and lacing their fingers together.
"Everyone's waiting for us in the dining room," Grayson informs Elijah. "Follow us."
Elijah squints, "with pleasure."
•••
Grayson slumps in her chair, a yawn escaping her lips as the conversation carries on around her.
"Manners, Miss Hunt." Elijah mumbles from next to her.
Like muscle memory, Grayson grins widely and shoots him a look as she straightens up— pressing her back to her chair.
"I hate to break it to you, Damon, but according to Elijah, your family is so not a founder of this town." Jenna announces, pouring wine for the said man.
Damon hums with a wry smile. "Hmm, do tell."
Elijah, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, shrugs. "Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier, a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trials in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution."
"Hmm," Jenna smiles. "Because they were witches."
Andie furrows her eyebrows, "Yeah, but there's no tangible proof there were witches in Salem."
"Andie's a journalist," Damon says proudly. "Big on facts."
Graysons grabs the nearest glass of wine, which happens to be Elijah's, and downs it in an effort not to burst into laughter.
"Well," Elijah begins after glancing at Grayson. "The lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement, so these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned. Some say you could hear the screams from miles around us. They were consumed by the fire." After an awkward pause of silence, Elijah clears his throat and asks— "Could you pass the..."
"I wouldn't repeat this to the Historical Society," Jenna informs him.
"I wouldn't repeat it to anyone, sister." Grayson mutters. She sees Elijah give her a look out of her peripheral vision and she rolls her eyes. "Yes, mother, I know. Manners," she mocks.
"It's starting to sound a little like a ghost story to me," John interjects.
Damon and Grayson share a look of annoyance, the latter being the one to speak. "So, why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?"
"You know...a healthy historian's curiosity, of course." Elijah replies.
"Of course,"
He glances at Damon and smiles, nervously.
"Well," Grayson starts. "I say we move on from these ghost stories and talk about something more scandalous, yes?"
Elijah raises his now returned glass, a smirk painted on his lips. "I agree, let's."
•••
"Would anyone care for some cognac—"
"Yes," Grayson cuts in.
Damon glares at her and finished his statement, "I have a bottle that I've been saving for ages."
Grayson nods slowly, drumming her fingers on the table. "Yes,"
Damon gets up from the table to retrieve the bottle but Ric stops him with a smart remark. "None for me thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit,"
Grayson laughs. "How funny," she sniffs. "Mine is ten." Smiling at the sound of laughter floating around her, Grayson stands with the other guests.
"The gentlemen should take their drinks in the study," Andie announces with a grin.
Grayson shoots Damon a look, but she's quickly snapped out of her gaze of irritation when Elijah places a hand on her mid back. "I have to say the food is almost as nice as the company," he voices.
Grayson looks up at him with a tight smile and moves herself from his hand, following the rest of the women into the kitchen.
•••
Grayson graciously sips on her cup of coffee, her red stained lips stretched into a smile at Jenna's words. "Yes, well—"
"Grayson!" Ric bursts into the kitchen, his eyes wide with panic and short breaths escaping his mouth. "I—i need your help with something if you'll please follow me?"
Grayson sets down her coffee and follows Ric, her hands on her hips. "What is it? I was having quite a nice conversation with—"
"The dagger will kill Damon if he—"
Without hearing the rest of his words, Grayson uses her supernatural speed to rush into the library and collapse onto the floor. "Damon," she groans.
There's a rushed movement before he's at her side, concern lacing his voice. "Grayson, what is it? Are you okay?"
Her eyes pop open and she smiles brightly, "I think I've had my ten bottles of wine,"
"You're drunk," Damon deadpans.
"Elijah," Andie drawls as she holds out a hand for him.
"Miss Star," he puts his glass of Bourbon down and takes Andie's hand, letting her lead him into the dining room.
"What hell are you playing at?" Damon hisses as he hauls Grayson off the ground by her upper arms. "I could've had him."
With rage filled eyes, she points to the dagger with harsh motions. Damon makes a face and shrugs.
Grayson throws her hands up in frustration and gestures for Ric to take care of it, which he does. He walks over to a desk and writes something down on a piece of paper. He hands it to Damon, who scans it quickly before crumbling it and throwing it on the floor. His eyes flick to Grayson and they soften, shining with regret for being so harsh with her.
"Come on," she holds out a hand for him. He takes it and they sashay into the dining room hand in hand, dropping into chairs beside each other. "John," Grayson starts. "Thank you for coming tonight, you've— you've really enlightened us."
He squints at her but is met with a blank stare, making his shift uncomfortably.
"Ric, would you do me a favor and grab the notebook out of my bag?" Andie asks.
Ric nods and leaves the table, disappearing from sight.
"Elijah," Damon addresses the Original. "Did John tell you he's Elena's uncle-slash-father?"
"Yes, I'm well aware of that." Elijah replies.
"Of course, she hates him, so there's absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list."
"Yes," Grayson tilts her head. "No need at all."
"No Ric, it's in the front pocket." Andie tells him, only to receive a huff in return. "On the...you know what? Excuse me, guys. Sorry," she leaves to get her notepad herself.
"What I'd like to know, Elijah, is how do you intend on killing Klaus?" John wonders.
Grayson blinks, sitting up straighter.
"Gentlemen, there's a few things we should probably get clear right now." The Original purposely addresses the men only. "I allow you to live solely to keep an eye on Elena. I allow Elena to remain in her house living her life with her friends as she does as a courtesy. If you become a liability, I'll take her away from you and you'll never see her again."
Andie comes back with her notebook and sits down, flashing everyone a smile. "Okay," she chirps. "My first question is when you got here to Mystic—"
In an instant, Ric is behind Elijah and shoving the dagger into his chest from behind. A garbled scream escaped the Original's lips and Grayson finds herself clutching the arm of her chair tightly, her jaw clenched at the sound. Ric pulls the dagger from his body and sighs, giving Damon a look. "Now, get rid of him before Jenna comes back with dessert."
"All right," the Salvatore smiles.
•••
"You said there wasn't going to be any violence," Ric state later that night as he, Damon, and Grayson stand outside the cellar holding Elijah's body.
"Says the guy that did all the killing," Damon scoffs.
The Salvatore attempts to walk out but Ric grabs his arm, his face stern and void of emotion. "Hey, I took the shot because I saw an opening, not because I planned to do this with Jenna in the house. Now, you can't lie to me like that," Damon tries to leave again, but Alaric tightens his hold. "Hey, I am your friend, damn it. And you don't have any friends. So, no more lying."
Damon stares at him for a long second before nodding once and exiting the cellar. Ric stands beside Grayson, staring down at Elijah's body.
"Did you know him?" Ric breaks the silence, his voice holding one of curiosity.
Grayson clasps her hands in front of her. "Maybe in another life." She speaks softly, quietly. "Not in this one. Never in this one."
Ric looks at her with understanding, his eyes gentle. "Wanna go get a drink?"
Grayson hesitates before nodding. "I'd like that."
•••
not edited.