Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I miss Kol.

1910

Rachel had never known love and she made it a point never to catch it's eye. She eluded it with a bitter grace, always slipping away in between hot, sticky kisses against cold stonewalls in the shadows and quick romps between the sheets. She always managed to keep out of it's reach. Rachel had never known love and now she never would. If anything she was a bit relieved.

Kol smiled down at her as she whimpered pathetically but she did not plead. She would not plead. He liked that about her. He had noticed that spark that fire in her from the beginning. He liked pretty little things with sharp tongues. His smile widened further, pearly whites winking at Rachel from beneath his lips. Even with her blood smeared across his face he still had the audacity to be charming.

If she hadn't been bleeding out onto the cobblestone, Rachel would have scoffed.

She was sublime. That was the first word that came to mind when Kol spotted her through the haze of the stale air. Smooth jazz crept into the air rocking all the drunks like a lullaby. A man wept mournfully into a microphone to a sad tune while she swayed sinfully slow with some poor sap that didn't even know where to put his hands.

Even though he's seen that dress before hugging those same curves and leaving the same patches of skin to the imagination, Kol still could not deny that she looked divine. Besides, he could never resist a damsel in distress.

"Mind if I cut in?" he said suddenly at their side.

He looked to the boy first but turned his attention quickly to the lady letting her know it was her choice, all according to script.

"Hey now," the boy started before she cut him off.

"Shut it, Billy," Rachel said not even caring to look poor Billy in the eye, "do us both a favor and scram."

Neither she nor Kol took much notice as Billy threw his hands up in defeat, yet another girl who didn't want to give him the time of day. Kol was too busy putting his hands on her waist and Rachel was too busy obliging. Billy bitter departure was not mourned. It was a wonder that there were still saps like Billy who didn't already know their game. They had been playing at it for weeks.

"Thanks for steppin' in and saving me," she whispered exactly like she practiced in the mirror that afternoon in clad only in her underwear.

When he pulled her close, she gasped though not from surprise. He always pulled her close, the same angle, the same way. The hot air of her breath tousled the soft hair just above his ear. Perhaps she had been a tad bit too keen with her corset but Rachel wanted to look good for him.

"Could never resist a pretty dame with a sharp tongue," Kol said low in her ear just like he had so many times before, "besides I couldn't just leave you to a grease monkey with two left feet."

He always did like to improvise but Rachel didn't mind. She liked their little routine either way, as long as he kept to the part where he swept her off her feet. When he leaned down and whispered.

"Wanna get out of here?"

She was all too eager and Rachel didn't even try to hide it. After years wasted on Sunday sermons and bible verses about contrition and denying sin, Rachel had no time for shame. That was Kol's favorite thing about her. She was as unapologetic as him.

Then before the song let up they were out of that joint, sweeping through the town. The made quite the ruckus and when they walked through the door the people cheered and jeered, happy to know that the party had finally arrived. Though she had been through the routine countless times, Rachel couldn't bring herself to be bored with it. The same could not be said for Kol already the town was beginning to feel like a cage but he let her dance, go wild, and have her fun. Though the lights of all the bars and nightclubs had dulled to a low murmur she still managed a spark.

When he caught her by the waist as she sank low from the alcohol and lack of air, he took a moment to appreciate her effort. At least she tried to keep him entertained.

"Take me home, slick," she mumbled barely even breathing and he obliged.

Kol would be leaving in couple days but he had one last loose end to tie up.

"Come now darling don't look so sad," Kol crooned, "You had a good time didn't you? And I promise I'll make it quick as I can."

And she had. If Rachel was honest the past couple of weeks, playing their games and their parts, tearing up the town, was the best time of her life. So she wouldn't regret it even as she tried to run or rather crawl away. The angle where her right elbow bent seems strange and there was a terrible gash running up her left calf but she pulled herself backwards away from him. Each little burst of effort produced a gasp of pain from her red lips. Their color was faded now, smudged over the lines of her lips onto her cheeks and a bit just below her nose. The bottom half of her face glowed pink the dim orange light of the street lamps.

They'll use her names in cautionary tales at Sunday school, tell little girls to take note and take heed. They'll mourn her and curse her in the same breath but Rachel didn't regret it. At least she's had her two weeks and maybe she'd get to spit his shiny shoes.

"And really that's all we can hope for," Kol continued moving forward after her, keeping with her slow pace, "a good time and a quick end."

Rachel stopped. She looked up at him. A thick dripping sheet of sweat coated her now. Kol could smell clearly the jasmine scented cream she had applied just a few hours ago in the ladies' room. There was the smell of her soap, jasmine as well, and the acrid stench of fear and piss hit the air.

"Screw you," she muttered so low that had he not been a vampire he probably would have missed it.

He laughed when she spit on his shoes.

"Aw sugar, those were my favorite."

And he kept his word. It was over with a quick twist of her neck. Rachel had never been in love but in two weeks she had come close. If anything she was relieved.

When he dies almost a hundred years later on a kitchen floor, his smoldering ribs crumbling into the cavity of his chest, there are a million thoughts, lifetimes running through his head but he spares a thought for Rachel.

A good time and a quick end.

At least he had had a good time.

a/n: I'm sorry.