IF YOU HAVE NOT READ "NO GOOD DEED" : these are outtakes which may make absolutely zero sense to you. I'm sorry. If you would like them to make sense, please to be going here:
www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net (slash) s (slash) 5987407 (slash) 1 (slash) No_Good_Deed
Disclaimer: No, I don't own this at all. Of course I don't.
My holiday was awesome, and a very welcome break. My friend discovered I wrote fanfiction, and she told me the stuff I write is "hot". Thankayou to her.
This was inspired by g1rlanachr0n1sm's original idea of "Katherine keeping Tabs on the Salvatore Brothers, so why not her thoughts on Francesca."
She did not, could not understand. There were no two ways about the fact that the boy she had once chosen to be with – even though he had been more than a boy at twenty-five at the time she had changed him – had simply chosen somebody else... and yet Katherine simply refused to understand.
She was a waste. She was human, and small, and petite and naive and everything that a man like Damon – convoluted, manipulative, demanding, interesting, should not have wanted.
She was not even beautiful. He deserved some kind of beauty in his life.
Katherine had pictures of them, she had had them stolen from the photographer's office at some-place-or-another, and they had sickened her, because he was just as beautiful as the day she had left him and she was just... pointless.
"Miss Katherine?" She turned to look at the young girl who was standing in her doorway, looking as though she was about to faint from fear.
"What do you want?" The icy tone that Katherine spat with was almost enough to make the girl collapse.
"I have news..." The girl looked hesitant, because she knew, she just knew that the words that were resting on the tip of her tongue were nothing that Katherine, her mistress, her master, would want to hear, but she needed to hear them nonetheless, because this was important, and potentially changed everything.
"What is it, girl?" Once again, as she held out her hand and offered the small envelope to Katherine, the girl was shaking. It seemed as though that was all she did.
"T-the man. Damon Salvatore." There was a beat of silence, and Katherine looked at her, waiting for her to continue, "He has a wife."
A plaything. She could only be his plaything, because he would never take a wife.
"You are wrong, of course," Though in her dead, cold heart, she knew that he had married.
"No, ma'am," The girl was shaking her head, still offering the thick envelope, filled with photographs that would surely get her killed, "There are photographs." She offered the envelope again, and the older vampire snatched the envelope away with more than a little force and tore it open, fury lacing her every movement.
In the first picture, was the girl, her name unimportant because Katherine knew Damon was just biding his time until he could return to her, his sire, his maker, his lover. She was darker than Katherine was, with a pair of green eyes that made her stop and consider whether they were even real. Her hair was twisted up, all over the place in a beautiful style that Katherine knew would look better on her, with her longer hair, and her far superior grace – she was a vampire, it was far easier for her to carry everything off and make it look completely effortless.
Infuriated further by this clear charade, she flicked through another photograph to allow her heart to flutter at the sight of Damon, his smile stunning and his face brighter than she had seen him in a long time. He had one of his hands resting against the girl's waist, and the other pulling at a strand of hair that had clearly fallen from the mass of hair taken away from her face. His eyes were brilliantly blue, sparkling even in the photograph, and Katherine could have killed to be in the tiny woman's place, standing there, waiting to be kissed by the god that was Damon Salvatore.
But she wasn't. She had left his life and been replaced by this.
Turning pages over, flicking through more of the photographs, she saw the smile on Damon's face grow wider as he danced with the girl, eyes darkening as he lowered his lips to hers, then the pictures lost colour and she saw it. She saw the truth. She saw the attraction because she saw the darkness in the girl's eyes, the pull that Damon felt to the girl.
When she looked to the left, she was beautiful, because he was standing there. When her lips were bruised by the force of a kiss that was clearly too much for her to take, it was because he had made the kiss whole. He made the girl whole. He completed her.
But Katherine missed the point. Katherine missed the point that Damon was a whole man because he had the girl in his arms. He had reconnected with something that Katherine had taken away without a second thought, that his brother had forced him to become, and he had fallen in love with it.
"Get out." Katherine was suddenly overcome with loss and fury, and perhaps a little bit of sickness and irritation. "I don't want to be disturbed-"
"No ma'am," The girl nodded and almost sprinted from the room that her mistress was curled up in. She was scared for her life and knew she had to get far, far away.
What she did not know was that Miss Katherine was thinking of doing exactly the same thing. She had hitched up her jeans, wrapped her arms around herself and sprinted out of a second floor window, determined to escape from a reality that she did not want to accept.
She would go to Seri. She would find out for herself that this was not real. That he was not in love. He couldn't be, he loved her, they both adored each other... and now he was toying with a human...
But when she alighted, stopped in the gravel outside of the place she knew to be the Salvatore household, the one that the brothers rented because nobody had ever slept there – until now, apparently, because as Katherine attempted to enter through the unlocked back door, she was beaten back by such an unknown force that she knew somebody human resided there – she could hear him.
She could hear them.
"Francesca?" His voice was supple, soft music to her ears after nearly one-hundred-and-fifty years, "Dolcezza, it's late... and I want-" So very Damon. Katherine turned to leave, but couldn't. She needed to know more, the compelling urge to have the truth kept her in the shadows, listening to the scene of sickening domesticity.
"I know, but just another couple of pages?" She let out a sigh, and then a giggle, and Katherine tensed as she heard a growl she had not heard in a lifetime. The possessive, fuck me growl. "Damon!" And a soft groan let her know that he was distracting her from her book.
"Please, Francesca?" Katherine could imagine it perfectly. His hands on her waist, her body responding as – thunk – the book fell to the floor without a marker or a dog-eared page. She would feel her way in the half-light of the bedside lamp, and he would claim her with slow-moving fingers and a soft hand pulling her slim hips on top of him as she gasped, and he was there. Right there.
Katherine finally could not stand to hear, to think of more. She backed away from the Salvatore household, the place she would never frequent in the night time again, and decided that she would wait until she could see him alone. Perhaps when the human was dead.
She never considered the possibility that he was really in love.
A/N: The Next outtake will be up on Tuesday, a StefAbelle outtake, and probably smutty.
Please to review? Thanka you