Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

Summer's a Knife

The house on Maple Lane may have been in Abigail's name, but she spent most of her summer nights at the apartment in Town Square. They had been long, but the days even longer as the Virginian summer was quickly taken over by the search for Stefan. They met dead end after dead end, coming up empty handed after every lead that trickled down to them.

There were no more secrets between friends, at least when it came to the supernatural, so training seemed even more important. Especially considering Klaus could waltz back to town any time he wanted to find Elena alive and well, grieving for the living and the dead.

Abigail ripped Jeremy's curtains open, filling his room with morning light.

"Ahh! Early. Bad!"

"Ahh. It's not early." She pulled the blankets completely off of the bed. "You're late for work. Matt called me."

He looked at his alarm clock. "Well, maybe he'll fire me."

"Aim high!" She exchanged her joking expression for a serious one. "If you don't want me to ship you off to boarding school, go to work."

Alaric's hair had grown out so that the front pieces fell down around his face if it wasn't gelled into place, and it never was. He still had no trouble meeting her eyes as soon as she walked into a room. She sat down next to him at the island silently as he let out a heavy sigh, following the motion of his hand to her sister.

Elena was punching the buttons on the coffee maker as she spoke so fast into her phone that it had to be Caroline on the other line. Her shoulders slumped as the line went dead and she dropped her phone onto the countertop. She couldn't have disguise her defeat, not when it had become the thing they saw from her the most.

Alaric cleared his throat, pulling her attention toward them. "Was that, uh, Stefan news?"

Slowly, she said, "It could be more Klaus victims."

"Elena, are you sure Stefan's still with him?"

"Easy to be sure when the alternative is that he's dead." They fell silent, the truth of Elena's statement too harsh to respond to. "Abigail, are you sure you're still okay with helping Caroline tonight?"

"Yeah, of course." She reached for a mug. "Why?"

Elena gave her a knowing look. "Because you've spent half the summer avoiding her."

"I just-" She could feel the way Alaric was looking at her. It was the same way he looked at her when her eyes lingered on him for a little too long or when she said something she shouldn't have known during a group training session. The same way he looked at her when she found a reason to sit at the bar. The same look he gave her every time she brought it up. "It's not on purpose."

Elena nodded. "Got it."

"Thank you..." Smiling, she added, "Happy Birthday, Elena."

She gave her a half-smile, one that didn't meet her eyes. "Thanks."

Almost as soon as the loft door was closed, Alaric's lips were on Abigail's. He was pulling her against him, fingers crawling up her sides at an excruciating pace, as they stumbled into the bedroom. She said his name, and then he said hers, but that was it.

His phone rang on the nightstand relentlessly until he abandoned her lips to answer it. "This better be good."

"They moved on to Tennessee," Damon said. "That fluttered victim I had Andie looking into had family in Tennessee."

Still trying to catch her breath, Abigail asked, "Which one? Pensacola?"

"Guys! It's not even noon."

"Says you."