better I should know (Meredith Sulez/Alaric Saltzman; TVD)
Title: better I should know
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters: Meredith Sulez/Alaric Saltzman (Elena Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett, Caroline Forbes, Jeremy Gilbert, mentions of others)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Meredith Sulez returns to Mystic Falls, falls in love, and makes herself (and someone else) miserable. Not exactly in that order.
Authors Notes: This is for summerstorm, to whom I promised Meredith/Ric fic a million years ago. I'm sorry it took me so long to deliver! Also, just a note: Meredith's character obviously isn't on the show yet, so I drew from the book character and took some creative liberties. This is post-S2 AU.
be with me, stay with me, just for now
let the time decide when I won't need you
***
When she steps into the doorway of his classroom, Meredith feels suddenly out of place. It’s strange, because for one thing she’s in here for class every morning; but for another, she’s spent countless hours in here researching and plotting this year.
Still, it’s a bit different when-- well, now.
“Did you need something?”
He’s looking at her. Apparently her entrance wasn’t as quiet as she’d intended.
“Yeah, actually. Elena wanted me to let you know that she and Damon found some sort of lead on Stefan, so they’re skipping town for the weekend. She said she’d call,” Meredith finishes with a shrug, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. “Actually, you’ll probably have the house to yourself, tonight at least. Bonnie mentioned her dad is on call, so Jeremy’s probably going to stay with her.”
“Good to know.” He glances back down at the papers he’s grading.
Meredith lifts an eyebrow.
So this is how it’s going to be.
“Right, well, that was all I needed. That and the copy of Menken. I wanted to look at it again.”
“I’m using it for something currently, but I should be able to get it to you soon.”
Meredith snaps.
“Damn it, Ric,” she exclaims, her voice a bit too loud given that they’re at the school and his classroom door is open. “I’m not just some enamored student that doesn’t know you. You can’t just brush me off.”
“You’re the one who drew that line.” His voice is even-- too even-- and his lips press tightly into a thin line. “Not me.”
She considers slamming the door. In the end, she decides to be the mature one in this situation (though ‘mature’ is certainly relative) and exits without another word.
***
The first thing that Meredith does upon her return to Mystic Falls after school ends at the beginning of June is turn her car in the direction of the bookstore. There’s a new Menken book on obscure vampire mythology in the South, and she knows her hometown bookstore is bound to have a copy. The academic in her wants to get her hands on it before anyone else can-- anyone else meaning any of those obsessed council members. The way she rationalizes it is that they want it for hunting purposes, whereas Meredith’s desire for knowledge is purely scholarly. Much nicer and more peaceful.
Not that Meredith particularly cares about vampires getting hurt. They can all burn in hell for all that she cares.
She’s out of her little Honda right after the engine turns off, heading directly for the bookstore without even looking behind her to see if the car locks (it’s a small town and she’s best friends-- was best friends, anyway-- with the Sheriff’s daughter). Her stride is long and her steps are quick, and yet somehow when she reaches the section she knows it will be shelved in, a man with sandy hair and a triumphant expression already has it in his hand.
“I wanted that.”
“Sorry. I got here first.” His tone is anything but sorry, however. And his smile isn’t doing much to convince Meredith of his chagrin either.
“There’s not another copy, is there.” It isn’t a question. She already knows there isn’t one. Mystic Pages rarely (if ever) stocks more than one copy of Menken’s books, or those like it. The demand isn’t quite high enough.
“Nope.”
He looks far too pleased with himself. Part of Meredith wants to just stand here and try to intimidate him into giving her the book. Unfortunately, despite his youthful expression, he seems to be an adult, and therefore perhaps not as easily intimidated as males her own age. If it were Matt she could totally just stare him down till he gave it to her (not that Matt of all people would be buying a history of obscure vampire mythology-- what would he do with it?).
This guy’s an unknown quantity, though. Which is strange in her hometown, because even though she’s been away for nearly two years Meredith figured she’d still know everyone.
This is possibly what makes her offer her hand in what could, on the surface, look like an olive branch.
“Meredith Sulez.”
“Alaric Saltzman,” he says slowly, shaking the offered hand and giving her a searching look. “So, tell me, Meredith. Why do you want this book so badly?”
Oh, he’s cute. With that little smile and the lazy way it stretches across his face and the way it makes his eyes crinkle up. Meredith has always sort of had a thing for older guys. Especially older guys who she can peg immediately as academics. Yay for new Mystic Falls eye candy.
“It’s just a subject I’ve always been interested in. And they never stock more than one copy, so I was counting on that one.” She gives an airy, Southern sigh (something very unlike her, a testament to how much she wants this). “You could be a gentleman and let me have it.”
“I could. Except that I too, am interested and I too have been waiting on this book, and unfortunately for you, I got here first.”
“Because your legs are longer,” she drawls.
His answering grin nearly knocks her on her ass.
“Tell you what,” he begins, and Meredith lifts one delicately groomed eyebrow, inviting him to continue. “I’ll let you borrow it when I’m done. As long as you aren’t the corner-folding type.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Before he can change his mind, she’s pulling a Sharpie from her purse and grabbing his hand, scrawling her cell number on the back of it.
“Text me when you finish it. Nice meeting you, Mr. Saltzman.”
She can feel his eyes on her back as she walks away and he calls, “Likewise, Miss Sulez.”
***
“Whatever. I don’t feel like talking about Stefan,” Elena says with an impatient shake of her head. “And I really don’t want to talk about Damon. Mainly because there’s not anything to talk about.”
“Fine. Then paint my toenails. I’ll talk.” Caroline shoves a bottle of what Meredith has affectionately nicknamed “porn star pink” nail polish into Elena’s hands before wriggling around so that she’s seated with her feet in the taller girl’s lap.
It is early November, and an impromptu slumber party has grown out of this afternoon’s strategy-meeting-slash-yelling-match-slash-therapy-session. Frankly Meredith is glad. Things have been weird since she snapped at Ric the week before, and the meeting in the Gilbert living room earlier today was no exception.
Sometimes a girl just needs her best girls around her.
“You are good at that,” Bonnie drawls, grinning at Caroline. She’s in Elena’s window seat, at the far end so that she can see out the open door. Caroline’s already accused her of keeping an eye out for Jeremy, and she hasn’t bothered to deny it.
“So. Mere. Spill.”
Meredith’s head snaps up from her book (it isn’t Menken, but it’ll do). “Spill what?”
“Were you or were you not totally checking out Alaric’s ass this afternoon?” Caroline asks, eyebrows raised in that I’m-Caroline-Forbes-and-I-see-all way that she has. It annoys the hell out of Meredith most days-- including today.
“Nope. Definitely not,” she says with a shake of her head.”You must have confused me with Damon. Easy enough since we’re both tall with long, dark hair.”
“Hah hah. But seriously, Mere--”
One dark look from Meredith silences whatever was about to come out of Caroline’s mouth.
“Fine. Sorry. I just thought maybe you had a thing for him,” the blonde says with a shrug. “Nothing wrong with that. He’s hot. But what do I know?”
“Nothing, in this instance,” Meredith retorts. “There is no thing.”
Present-tense. Is. It’s not a lie.
It’s not like she said was.
***
The route of their walk shifts away from the main party and down side streets unused by the festival-goers, ostensibly so that their conversation won’t be overheard.
Except that they don’t talk, at first. They just walk in easy silence, slowly ambling down the sidewalks of her little town. Alaric’s hands are shoved in his pockets in a posture as casual as Meredith’s folded arms are defensive, although she isn’t sure quite what she’s guarding herself against. Maybe all the knowledge she’s had dumped on her in the past forty-eight hours.
“It doesn’t bother her?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Stefan’s a good guy,” he answers immediately, somehow knowing exactly what she’s talking about even though this wasn’t exactly the focus of conversation back on the bench. “Elena knows that. What he is...it doesn’t change who he is. For some people it does,” he adds.
“Like Damon. Or Klaus.”
“Or Caroline.” Meredith’s head snaps up and her expression is clearly worried, because Alaric hurriedly raises a hand to stop her. “Not in the same way as Damon, or Klaus, although I have a feeling that Klaus isn’t quite so different as he was before his change. No, with Caroline....”
He pauses for a moment as they round a corner. Meredith is watching him so closely that she barely catches herself before she stumbles into the brick wall.
“With Caroline...she’s stronger. Not just physically. I didn’t have much interaction with her before she changed and got pulled into all of this, but even as a teacher you can see-- you get to know high schoolers. She was insecure. The type that gets jealous easily and is never quite sure of themselves.”
He drags his hand back through his short hair, leaving little pieces standing on end, and the corners of Meredith’s lips barely quirk up in a smile. It makes him look younger (not that he isn’t baby-faced enough already).
“She always has been,” she chimes in. “Elena can do that to a person. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s kind of the golden girl. Caroline wanted that, and I think she’s always felt one step behind.”
“And I’m not saying she doesn’t feel that way at all now. She just seems more confident, stronger emotionally, since her change. Not all vampires are monsters,” he sums up. “Some are your best friends. That’s been one of the hardest things for me to come to terms with-- that the guy that is essentially my best friend is a cold-blooded killer.”
“How do you reconcile that?”
“Still workin’ on it.” He shrugs, and a shadow passes over his face. “I’m not perfect. I haven’t always done the right thing. So...glass houses and all that, I guess.”
They’re back to the comfortable silence again. Meredith notices they’re walking closer than they were-- a product of her not moving back to her half of the sidewalk when she was recovering from nearly walking into a wall. He doesn’t seem to mind.
One street later, Meredith breaks the silence.
“We’re a lot alike, you and me.”
“You mean aside from the fact that we’re both complete geeks who clearly have a danger fetish, given our preferred area of study?”
The grin that accompanies that is the same disarming one he flashed at her that first day in the bookstore, and Meredith suddenly finds it a bit difficult to breathe.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I meant,” she counters, deadpan.
“Oh. Well, in that case.”
“No, just...you get it,” she says, searching for the words to explain this correctly. “Being on the outside. Being fascinated by something that also repulses you.”
The air feels serious now, not as lighthearted as they’ve been trying to make it.
“Looking at someone that you love and seeing them but also this possibility of a monster,” she finishes finally, thinking of Caroline but also of his wife, and of all of her friends tangled in this mess.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I get that.”
Alaric’s voice sounds hoarse, and kind of broken, and Meredith opens her mouth to apologize for going too far, for bringing up sensitive subjects, but before she can she’s stumbling again. She’s never this clumsy-- she places the blame entirely on the espadrilles she decided to wear today (as if she really needs to be any taller).
Before she can hit the concrete his arms are around her, holding her up, and his face is dangerously close to hers, and this feels so much like a cliche movie moment that Meredith actually almost kisses him. And judging by the way his head dips down just a tad, he almost kisses her too.
Naturally she has to ruin the moment, saying on a shuddering breath, “You’re going to be my teacher in the fall.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
They both step back, and Meredith’s first instinct is to look everywhere but at Ric, except that he’s still looking at her. So she looks back, for a long moment. Then she turns around.
“We should get back to the festival.”
***
Her book is nowhere to be found.
Well, all right, it isn’t her book, but it’s a book in the Salvatore library that she was reading when she was here last weekend, and it has some fascinating information about werewolves. It’s not supported by any sort of research; it’s all guesswork and fairy tales and fantasy and Meredith knows that it probably isn’t going to be of any use, but she’s still interested.
The problem is, she can’t remember which bookshelf it was on.
Crouching down in front of one of the half-shelves, Meredith runs her finger along the spines of the old, leather-bound tomes. What she wouldn’t give to own a library like this-- there’s so much history contained in this one room.
And that isn’t even to mention the smell of old paper and leather and ink. It’s sort of orgasmic.
She’s quite aware of how odd that probably sounds to someone who isn’t an academic or a bibliophile.
She makes it to the end of the shelf sans book and rises from her crouched position, only to realize she is now face-to-face (nearly chest-to-chest) with Alaric.
“Oh. Sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
“It’s fine. Um, were you looking for this?” he asks, holding out a thin, green leather-bound book.
Meredith would squeal if things weren’t so tense and weird with them (and if she was the type of girl who squealed, which she is not).
“Yes. Yes, I was.” She takes it eagerly (their fingers brush, and there’s a jolt not unlike touching a live wire, but she tells herself firmly to ignore it). “I was afraid I imagined it or something. I only got to read the first chapter last time,” she explains, then pauses. “How did you know this was the book I wanted?”
“Saw you reading it last weekend,” he says with a shrug. He’s trying to play it off like it’s nothing, but Meredith knows better. She gives him a warm smile, holding the book close.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he says simply. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look unhappy.
It’s progress.
As he walks away, exiting into the rest of the house, Meredith sighs, slumping against the bookshelf.
What is it about this library?
***
“Hey, can you reach that book?”
Ric looks up from his cell phone, lifting a wry eyebrow at Meredith, who is pointing to a lonely-looking book in the corner of one of the very top shelves. “Why do you want it? There’s nothing about the Originals in this library. Hell, there’s nothing about the Originals anywhere. At this point, I’m actually considering using Bing and seeing what comes up.”
Meredith just stares at him.
“Fine.”
She steps back to let him get to the bookshelf (and if she’s checking out his ass while he reaches for the book, no one can blame her-- those jeans fit him really well).
“Do you really think we’re meant to find anything with this ‘research’ we’re supposed to be doing?” she asks, reaching for the hair tie around her wrist to twist her hair into a messy knot on top of her head.
“Nope. I think it is a poorly executed diversion to allow Damon time to accomplish whatever it is that he has up his sleeve this time.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Ric shrugs, plucking the elusive book from its shelf. “Not much I can do about it, since I have no idea what he’s up to.”
“Fair enough.”
Meredith steps forward to take the book at the same time that he steps forward to hand it to her.
She and Alaric are suddenly very much in each other’s personal space.
Their eyes lock, and it’s like an electric current is running under her skin. As their hands touch, she is taken back to the summer and the festival. It isn’t entirely the same; one difference is that this time they don’t have the excuse of her nearly falling for being so close.
The more important difference, however, is that this time she doesn’t stop him when he moves to kiss her.
***
“So what’s going on with you and Ric?” Jeremy asks out of nowhere one dreary afternoon in late November when he and Meredith are the only ones in the Gilbert living room. Everyone else has their tasks (even the recently returned, still not-quite-himself Stefan), but the humans are stuck on research patrol (even the ones who can see dead people).
Meredith doesn’t mind research patrol. Research patrol doesn’t try to kill her.
“What do you mean?” she asks, hoping her tone is as offhand as she’s trying to make it. She flips to another page in the century-old book, an expression of utter fascination on her face.
Jeremy, unfortunately for her, is not fooled.
“The whole study buddies research team that you guys had going on for a while? It was actually pretty useful. You worked well together,” he says. She can hear the frustration in his voice. Jeremy’s far less happy with being penned in than she is. “You guys just haven’t really been talking lately,” he continues. “He’s out more, I’m getting stuck in more...”
“Sick of me already?” she quips lightly.
“Mere,” is all he says, and when she looks up she’s surprised at the depth of understanding in his eyes.
“You really have grown up,” she remarks quietly.
She’d noticed when she returned, in the superficial sense (her first words to him upon her return had been “Jeremy Gilbert, you got hot!”, followed closely by, to Bonnie, “Now I get it”); but Meredith isn’t certain she’s actually taken the time to notice that he really isn’t just Elena’s kid brother anymore.
“It happens,” is his only response other than a half-shrug.
“Ric and I....” Meredith trails off with a sigh, tugging at the ends of her long, dark hair. “It’s complicated,” she said finally, lifting a delicately groomed eyebrow at Jeremy. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees with a half-laugh and a shake of his head. His amused expression quickly disappears, however. “Hey, come here. I think this text mentions something about hybrids.”
***
“So, he’s doing all of this because he wants a bunch of wolfy vampires running around?” Meredith asks incredulously.
“That’s the rumor.” Ric frowns at the paper he’s supposed to be grading, narrowing his eyes like he can’t actually understand the words written there.
They’re sprawled in the Gilbert living room with the house to themselves-- a rare occasion. Jeremy is at work at the Grille and Elena is at Bonnie’s. As a teenage girl, Meredith is pretty sure she should be offended that they’re leaving her out, but she gets it. She wasn’t here when Elena’s parents died, and Bonnie was-- that’s a bond she’s always going to be left out of, and it’s no one’s fault but her own.
Besides, it means she gets to spend her night with Ric sans interruptions or pretenses, two things she’s growing quite tired of.
“What’s that going to accomplish?”
“I don’t know. World domination? That’s generally what megalomaniacs like this are after.”
Meredith lets out an unladylike snort, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she settles back into the couch cushions, her legs thrown across Ric’s lap. She’s finally gotten her hands on Menken-- Ric has been (un)surprisingly stingy with it, for all that it has nothing to do with their current predicament.
Academics. Honestly.
Five minutes later finds her book on the floor, Ric’s papers on the coffee table, Meredith on Ric’s lap, and Ric’s hands-- well.
He’s just really good at this, okay? And Meredith is helpless when it comes to attractive intelligent types. It doesn’t hurt that Ric seems just as unable to control himself as she is; actually, it’s slightly flattering (and, initially, also slightly irritating, for two reasons: the chapter she was reading was interesting, and that was her paper he was grading, and damn it, she wanted to know what he thought).
His lips are sliding across the line of her jaw when her phone rings. Reaching out to the side, she gropes for it for a moment before finding it and answering.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Do I have the right number? I’m looking for Alaric Saltzman.”
Shit. It’s the principal of the high school.
Meredith hangs up the phone, throwing it away from her like it’s on fire and looking back at Ric.
She feels like she’s going to throw up.
“What?”
“That was your phone.”
“Oh.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Did they say who it was?”
“They didn’t have to,” Meredith groans, getting up so that she can pace the short distance to the window. “It was your boss. Aka, the principal.” Almost immediately, she turns on her heel, her tone desperate. “Do you have any idea what this means?”
“That I need to change my ringtone?”
Meredith knows that he’s just trying to lighten to mood, but she really isn’t feeling up to joking. She’s too panicky. Her heart is racing, her hands shaking.
It’s like everything that’s wrong with what they’re doing has hit her at once.
They’ve had a couple of close calls, but just with Elena or Jeremy or, once, Damon. Not anyone who would say anything, and certainly not anyone in a position of authority over both of them. Suddenly, Meredith feels very young and very stupid and very much like the kind of girl she promised herself she never would be.
“We almost just got busted.”
“Meredith...”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Meredith.”
He’s standing in front of her now and she swallows hard, taking a step back. “No. We need to just...”
“There is no way she could’ve known who answered my phone,” Ric rationalizes, dragging a hand back through his hair.
“And if she asks on Monday why a teenage girl answered your phone Friday night?” Meredith counters, settling into a defensive posture.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we ran into each other earlier at the library-- literally. We have the same phone and the same phone case. It isn’t a stretch to believe we could have picked up the wrong one.”
Typically logic is the way to Meredith’s heart. In this moment, she’s too keyed up to care.
“This-- you and me? It’s a really bad idea.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her heart rate. “We’ve been lucky so far. It’s not going to stay that way. One day someone is going to catch on, and the more people who know a secret, the less of a secret it is.”
“So we’ll just try harder on the subtlety front,” Ric argues, reaching for her.
Meredith takes another step away from him, shaking her head. The hurt that crosses his face makes her feel like a heartless bitch.
“We just need to step back for a while. Get back to our original dynamic. Research buddies, colleagues in the fight against vampire-y evil. Like you are with Bonnie or Caroline.”
“I’m not falling in love with Bonnie or Caroline.”
The depth of feeling in his voice almost undoes her, but Meredith stands firm. Regardless of her determination, however, she is unable to keep the wobble from her voice when she speaks.
“You’re my teacher, Ric.”
It’s like she slapped him. Actually, Meredith thinks, he would probably look less hurt if she’d physically hit him.
They stand in uncomfortable, tense silence. When Ric speaks, his voice is hoarse and empty.
“Fine. I’m your teacher.” He clears his throat. “It’s probably inappropriate for you to be at your teacher’s house on a Friday night.”
“Probably.”
She steps past him without looking at him. Even without seeing him, Meredith is uncomfortably aware of her body and how close to him she is. Quickly, she gathers her things.
Then she flees.
***
For once, winter in Mystic Falls brings snow. Actual, real, closing-school worthy snow. It's not white, though. It's grey and slushy and makes the roads treacherous and reflects Meredith's mood perfectly. She's curled up on the window seat in her room, blanket over her lap and woefully ignored dusty old book sitting beside her.
Bonnie texts and asks if she wants to come over to the Gilbert house; apparently she and Elena and Jeremy and Stefan are having some sort of winter-blues-banishing movie marathon and Caroline and Tyler might be coming if they can stop arguing long enough to step foot outside the Forbes house where Tyler's been staying since things blew up with his mother. Meredith doesn't feel like being social today, though, and so declines, telling Bonnie she would rather just read and nap.
She does neither. Instead, she stares at her phone, finger moving to and then rapidly away from the 'call' button for a good hour before she actually presses her finger to the touchscreen.
She gets no hello; she wasn't expecting one.
"I miss you."
"Mere..."
His sigh says enough; she can hear that he's just as miserable as she is. It should make her feel better but it doesn't.
"This staying away from each other thing isn't working."
The only part of that statement that shocks her is that it's him saying it and not her. She could've sworn the words were about to come out of her own mouth.
"No, it isn't."
The rest of the phone call is spent in silence.
and i won’t be warm
til i’m lying in your arms
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters: Meredith Sulez/Alaric Saltzman (Elena Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett, Caroline Forbes, Jeremy Gilbert, mentions of others)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Meredith Sulez returns to Mystic Falls, falls in love, and makes herself (and someone else) miserable. Not exactly in that order.
Authors Notes: This is for summerstorm, to whom I promised Meredith/Ric fic a million years ago. I'm sorry it took me so long to deliver! Also, just a note: Meredith's character obviously isn't on the show yet, so I drew from the book character and took some creative liberties. This is post-S2 AU.
be with me, stay with me, just for now
let the time decide when I won't need you
***
When she steps into the doorway of his classroom, Meredith feels suddenly out of place. It’s strange, because for one thing she’s in here for class every morning; but for another, she’s spent countless hours in here researching and plotting this year.
Still, it’s a bit different when-- well, now.
“Did you need something?”
He’s looking at her. Apparently her entrance wasn’t as quiet as she’d intended.
“Yeah, actually. Elena wanted me to let you know that she and Damon found some sort of lead on Stefan, so they’re skipping town for the weekend. She said she’d call,” Meredith finishes with a shrug, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. “Actually, you’ll probably have the house to yourself, tonight at least. Bonnie mentioned her dad is on call, so Jeremy’s probably going to stay with her.”
“Good to know.” He glances back down at the papers he’s grading.
Meredith lifts an eyebrow.
So this is how it’s going to be.
“Right, well, that was all I needed. That and the copy of Menken. I wanted to look at it again.”
“I’m using it for something currently, but I should be able to get it to you soon.”
Meredith snaps.
“Damn it, Ric,” she exclaims, her voice a bit too loud given that they’re at the school and his classroom door is open. “I’m not just some enamored student that doesn’t know you. You can’t just brush me off.”
“You’re the one who drew that line.” His voice is even-- too even-- and his lips press tightly into a thin line. “Not me.”
She considers slamming the door. In the end, she decides to be the mature one in this situation (though ‘mature’ is certainly relative) and exits without another word.
***
The first thing that Meredith does upon her return to Mystic Falls after school ends at the beginning of June is turn her car in the direction of the bookstore. There’s a new Menken book on obscure vampire mythology in the South, and she knows her hometown bookstore is bound to have a copy. The academic in her wants to get her hands on it before anyone else can-- anyone else meaning any of those obsessed council members. The way she rationalizes it is that they want it for hunting purposes, whereas Meredith’s desire for knowledge is purely scholarly. Much nicer and more peaceful.
Not that Meredith particularly cares about vampires getting hurt. They can all burn in hell for all that she cares.
She’s out of her little Honda right after the engine turns off, heading directly for the bookstore without even looking behind her to see if the car locks (it’s a small town and she’s best friends-- was best friends, anyway-- with the Sheriff’s daughter). Her stride is long and her steps are quick, and yet somehow when she reaches the section she knows it will be shelved in, a man with sandy hair and a triumphant expression already has it in his hand.
“I wanted that.”
“Sorry. I got here first.” His tone is anything but sorry, however. And his smile isn’t doing much to convince Meredith of his chagrin either.
“There’s not another copy, is there.” It isn’t a question. She already knows there isn’t one. Mystic Pages rarely (if ever) stocks more than one copy of Menken’s books, or those like it. The demand isn’t quite high enough.
“Nope.”
He looks far too pleased with himself. Part of Meredith wants to just stand here and try to intimidate him into giving her the book. Unfortunately, despite his youthful expression, he seems to be an adult, and therefore perhaps not as easily intimidated as males her own age. If it were Matt she could totally just stare him down till he gave it to her (not that Matt of all people would be buying a history of obscure vampire mythology-- what would he do with it?).
This guy’s an unknown quantity, though. Which is strange in her hometown, because even though she’s been away for nearly two years Meredith figured she’d still know everyone.
This is possibly what makes her offer her hand in what could, on the surface, look like an olive branch.
“Meredith Sulez.”
“Alaric Saltzman,” he says slowly, shaking the offered hand and giving her a searching look. “So, tell me, Meredith. Why do you want this book so badly?”
Oh, he’s cute. With that little smile and the lazy way it stretches across his face and the way it makes his eyes crinkle up. Meredith has always sort of had a thing for older guys. Especially older guys who she can peg immediately as academics. Yay for new Mystic Falls eye candy.
“It’s just a subject I’ve always been interested in. And they never stock more than one copy, so I was counting on that one.” She gives an airy, Southern sigh (something very unlike her, a testament to how much she wants this). “You could be a gentleman and let me have it.”
“I could. Except that I too, am interested and I too have been waiting on this book, and unfortunately for you, I got here first.”
“Because your legs are longer,” she drawls.
His answering grin nearly knocks her on her ass.
“Tell you what,” he begins, and Meredith lifts one delicately groomed eyebrow, inviting him to continue. “I’ll let you borrow it when I’m done. As long as you aren’t the corner-folding type.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Before he can change his mind, she’s pulling a Sharpie from her purse and grabbing his hand, scrawling her cell number on the back of it.
“Text me when you finish it. Nice meeting you, Mr. Saltzman.”
She can feel his eyes on her back as she walks away and he calls, “Likewise, Miss Sulez.”
***
“Whatever. I don’t feel like talking about Stefan,” Elena says with an impatient shake of her head. “And I really don’t want to talk about Damon. Mainly because there’s not anything to talk about.”
“Fine. Then paint my toenails. I’ll talk.” Caroline shoves a bottle of what Meredith has affectionately nicknamed “porn star pink” nail polish into Elena’s hands before wriggling around so that she’s seated with her feet in the taller girl’s lap.
It is early November, and an impromptu slumber party has grown out of this afternoon’s strategy-meeting-slash-yelling-match-slash-therapy-session. Frankly Meredith is glad. Things have been weird since she snapped at Ric the week before, and the meeting in the Gilbert living room earlier today was no exception.
Sometimes a girl just needs her best girls around her.
“You are good at that,” Bonnie drawls, grinning at Caroline. She’s in Elena’s window seat, at the far end so that she can see out the open door. Caroline’s already accused her of keeping an eye out for Jeremy, and she hasn’t bothered to deny it.
“So. Mere. Spill.”
Meredith’s head snaps up from her book (it isn’t Menken, but it’ll do). “Spill what?”
“Were you or were you not totally checking out Alaric’s ass this afternoon?” Caroline asks, eyebrows raised in that I’m-Caroline-Forbes-and-I-see-all way that she has. It annoys the hell out of Meredith most days-- including today.
“Nope. Definitely not,” she says with a shake of her head.”You must have confused me with Damon. Easy enough since we’re both tall with long, dark hair.”
“Hah hah. But seriously, Mere--”
One dark look from Meredith silences whatever was about to come out of Caroline’s mouth.
“Fine. Sorry. I just thought maybe you had a thing for him,” the blonde says with a shrug. “Nothing wrong with that. He’s hot. But what do I know?”
“Nothing, in this instance,” Meredith retorts. “There is no thing.”
Present-tense. Is. It’s not a lie.
It’s not like she said was.
***
The route of their walk shifts away from the main party and down side streets unused by the festival-goers, ostensibly so that their conversation won’t be overheard.
Except that they don’t talk, at first. They just walk in easy silence, slowly ambling down the sidewalks of her little town. Alaric’s hands are shoved in his pockets in a posture as casual as Meredith’s folded arms are defensive, although she isn’t sure quite what she’s guarding herself against. Maybe all the knowledge she’s had dumped on her in the past forty-eight hours.
“It doesn’t bother her?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Stefan’s a good guy,” he answers immediately, somehow knowing exactly what she’s talking about even though this wasn’t exactly the focus of conversation back on the bench. “Elena knows that. What he is...it doesn’t change who he is. For some people it does,” he adds.
“Like Damon. Or Klaus.”
“Or Caroline.” Meredith’s head snaps up and her expression is clearly worried, because Alaric hurriedly raises a hand to stop her. “Not in the same way as Damon, or Klaus, although I have a feeling that Klaus isn’t quite so different as he was before his change. No, with Caroline....”
He pauses for a moment as they round a corner. Meredith is watching him so closely that she barely catches herself before she stumbles into the brick wall.
“With Caroline...she’s stronger. Not just physically. I didn’t have much interaction with her before she changed and got pulled into all of this, but even as a teacher you can see-- you get to know high schoolers. She was insecure. The type that gets jealous easily and is never quite sure of themselves.”
He drags his hand back through his short hair, leaving little pieces standing on end, and the corners of Meredith’s lips barely quirk up in a smile. It makes him look younger (not that he isn’t baby-faced enough already).
“She always has been,” she chimes in. “Elena can do that to a person. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s kind of the golden girl. Caroline wanted that, and I think she’s always felt one step behind.”
“And I’m not saying she doesn’t feel that way at all now. She just seems more confident, stronger emotionally, since her change. Not all vampires are monsters,” he sums up. “Some are your best friends. That’s been one of the hardest things for me to come to terms with-- that the guy that is essentially my best friend is a cold-blooded killer.”
“How do you reconcile that?”
“Still workin’ on it.” He shrugs, and a shadow passes over his face. “I’m not perfect. I haven’t always done the right thing. So...glass houses and all that, I guess.”
They’re back to the comfortable silence again. Meredith notices they’re walking closer than they were-- a product of her not moving back to her half of the sidewalk when she was recovering from nearly walking into a wall. He doesn’t seem to mind.
One street later, Meredith breaks the silence.
“We’re a lot alike, you and me.”
“You mean aside from the fact that we’re both complete geeks who clearly have a danger fetish, given our preferred area of study?”
The grin that accompanies that is the same disarming one he flashed at her that first day in the bookstore, and Meredith suddenly finds it a bit difficult to breathe.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I meant,” she counters, deadpan.
“Oh. Well, in that case.”
“No, just...you get it,” she says, searching for the words to explain this correctly. “Being on the outside. Being fascinated by something that also repulses you.”
The air feels serious now, not as lighthearted as they’ve been trying to make it.
“Looking at someone that you love and seeing them but also this possibility of a monster,” she finishes finally, thinking of Caroline but also of his wife, and of all of her friends tangled in this mess.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I get that.”
Alaric’s voice sounds hoarse, and kind of broken, and Meredith opens her mouth to apologize for going too far, for bringing up sensitive subjects, but before she can she’s stumbling again. She’s never this clumsy-- she places the blame entirely on the espadrilles she decided to wear today (as if she really needs to be any taller).
Before she can hit the concrete his arms are around her, holding her up, and his face is dangerously close to hers, and this feels so much like a cliche movie moment that Meredith actually almost kisses him. And judging by the way his head dips down just a tad, he almost kisses her too.
Naturally she has to ruin the moment, saying on a shuddering breath, “You’re going to be my teacher in the fall.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
They both step back, and Meredith’s first instinct is to look everywhere but at Ric, except that he’s still looking at her. So she looks back, for a long moment. Then she turns around.
“We should get back to the festival.”
***
Her book is nowhere to be found.
Well, all right, it isn’t her book, but it’s a book in the Salvatore library that she was reading when she was here last weekend, and it has some fascinating information about werewolves. It’s not supported by any sort of research; it’s all guesswork and fairy tales and fantasy and Meredith knows that it probably isn’t going to be of any use, but she’s still interested.
The problem is, she can’t remember which bookshelf it was on.
Crouching down in front of one of the half-shelves, Meredith runs her finger along the spines of the old, leather-bound tomes. What she wouldn’t give to own a library like this-- there’s so much history contained in this one room.
And that isn’t even to mention the smell of old paper and leather and ink. It’s sort of orgasmic.
She’s quite aware of how odd that probably sounds to someone who isn’t an academic or a bibliophile.
She makes it to the end of the shelf sans book and rises from her crouched position, only to realize she is now face-to-face (nearly chest-to-chest) with Alaric.
“Oh. Sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
“It’s fine. Um, were you looking for this?” he asks, holding out a thin, green leather-bound book.
Meredith would squeal if things weren’t so tense and weird with them (and if she was the type of girl who squealed, which she is not).
“Yes. Yes, I was.” She takes it eagerly (their fingers brush, and there’s a jolt not unlike touching a live wire, but she tells herself firmly to ignore it). “I was afraid I imagined it or something. I only got to read the first chapter last time,” she explains, then pauses. “How did you know this was the book I wanted?”
“Saw you reading it last weekend,” he says with a shrug. He’s trying to play it off like it’s nothing, but Meredith knows better. She gives him a warm smile, holding the book close.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he says simply. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look unhappy.
It’s progress.
As he walks away, exiting into the rest of the house, Meredith sighs, slumping against the bookshelf.
What is it about this library?
***
“Hey, can you reach that book?”
Ric looks up from his cell phone, lifting a wry eyebrow at Meredith, who is pointing to a lonely-looking book in the corner of one of the very top shelves. “Why do you want it? There’s nothing about the Originals in this library. Hell, there’s nothing about the Originals anywhere. At this point, I’m actually considering using Bing and seeing what comes up.”
Meredith just stares at him.
“Fine.”
She steps back to let him get to the bookshelf (and if she’s checking out his ass while he reaches for the book, no one can blame her-- those jeans fit him really well).
“Do you really think we’re meant to find anything with this ‘research’ we’re supposed to be doing?” she asks, reaching for the hair tie around her wrist to twist her hair into a messy knot on top of her head.
“Nope. I think it is a poorly executed diversion to allow Damon time to accomplish whatever it is that he has up his sleeve this time.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Ric shrugs, plucking the elusive book from its shelf. “Not much I can do about it, since I have no idea what he’s up to.”
“Fair enough.”
Meredith steps forward to take the book at the same time that he steps forward to hand it to her.
She and Alaric are suddenly very much in each other’s personal space.
Their eyes lock, and it’s like an electric current is running under her skin. As their hands touch, she is taken back to the summer and the festival. It isn’t entirely the same; one difference is that this time they don’t have the excuse of her nearly falling for being so close.
The more important difference, however, is that this time she doesn’t stop him when he moves to kiss her.
***
“So what’s going on with you and Ric?” Jeremy asks out of nowhere one dreary afternoon in late November when he and Meredith are the only ones in the Gilbert living room. Everyone else has their tasks (even the recently returned, still not-quite-himself Stefan), but the humans are stuck on research patrol (even the ones who can see dead people).
Meredith doesn’t mind research patrol. Research patrol doesn’t try to kill her.
“What do you mean?” she asks, hoping her tone is as offhand as she’s trying to make it. She flips to another page in the century-old book, an expression of utter fascination on her face.
Jeremy, unfortunately for her, is not fooled.
“The whole study buddies research team that you guys had going on for a while? It was actually pretty useful. You worked well together,” he says. She can hear the frustration in his voice. Jeremy’s far less happy with being penned in than she is. “You guys just haven’t really been talking lately,” he continues. “He’s out more, I’m getting stuck in more...”
“Sick of me already?” she quips lightly.
“Mere,” is all he says, and when she looks up she’s surprised at the depth of understanding in his eyes.
“You really have grown up,” she remarks quietly.
She’d noticed when she returned, in the superficial sense (her first words to him upon her return had been “Jeremy Gilbert, you got hot!”, followed closely by, to Bonnie, “Now I get it”); but Meredith isn’t certain she’s actually taken the time to notice that he really isn’t just Elena’s kid brother anymore.
“It happens,” is his only response other than a half-shrug.
“Ric and I....” Meredith trails off with a sigh, tugging at the ends of her long, dark hair. “It’s complicated,” she said finally, lifting a delicately groomed eyebrow at Jeremy. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees with a half-laugh and a shake of his head. His amused expression quickly disappears, however. “Hey, come here. I think this text mentions something about hybrids.”
***
“So, he’s doing all of this because he wants a bunch of wolfy vampires running around?” Meredith asks incredulously.
“That’s the rumor.” Ric frowns at the paper he’s supposed to be grading, narrowing his eyes like he can’t actually understand the words written there.
They’re sprawled in the Gilbert living room with the house to themselves-- a rare occasion. Jeremy is at work at the Grille and Elena is at Bonnie’s. As a teenage girl, Meredith is pretty sure she should be offended that they’re leaving her out, but she gets it. She wasn’t here when Elena’s parents died, and Bonnie was-- that’s a bond she’s always going to be left out of, and it’s no one’s fault but her own.
Besides, it means she gets to spend her night with Ric sans interruptions or pretenses, two things she’s growing quite tired of.
“What’s that going to accomplish?”
“I don’t know. World domination? That’s generally what megalomaniacs like this are after.”
Meredith lets out an unladylike snort, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she settles back into the couch cushions, her legs thrown across Ric’s lap. She’s finally gotten her hands on Menken-- Ric has been (un)surprisingly stingy with it, for all that it has nothing to do with their current predicament.
Academics. Honestly.
Five minutes later finds her book on the floor, Ric’s papers on the coffee table, Meredith on Ric’s lap, and Ric’s hands-- well.
He’s just really good at this, okay? And Meredith is helpless when it comes to attractive intelligent types. It doesn’t hurt that Ric seems just as unable to control himself as she is; actually, it’s slightly flattering (and, initially, also slightly irritating, for two reasons: the chapter she was reading was interesting, and that was her paper he was grading, and damn it, she wanted to know what he thought).
His lips are sliding across the line of her jaw when her phone rings. Reaching out to the side, she gropes for it for a moment before finding it and answering.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Do I have the right number? I’m looking for Alaric Saltzman.”
Shit. It’s the principal of the high school.
Meredith hangs up the phone, throwing it away from her like it’s on fire and looking back at Ric.
She feels like she’s going to throw up.
“What?”
“That was your phone.”
“Oh.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Did they say who it was?”
“They didn’t have to,” Meredith groans, getting up so that she can pace the short distance to the window. “It was your boss. Aka, the principal.” Almost immediately, she turns on her heel, her tone desperate. “Do you have any idea what this means?”
“That I need to change my ringtone?”
Meredith knows that he’s just trying to lighten to mood, but she really isn’t feeling up to joking. She’s too panicky. Her heart is racing, her hands shaking.
It’s like everything that’s wrong with what they’re doing has hit her at once.
They’ve had a couple of close calls, but just with Elena or Jeremy or, once, Damon. Not anyone who would say anything, and certainly not anyone in a position of authority over both of them. Suddenly, Meredith feels very young and very stupid and very much like the kind of girl she promised herself she never would be.
“We almost just got busted.”
“Meredith...”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Meredith.”
He’s standing in front of her now and she swallows hard, taking a step back. “No. We need to just...”
“There is no way she could’ve known who answered my phone,” Ric rationalizes, dragging a hand back through his hair.
“And if she asks on Monday why a teenage girl answered your phone Friday night?” Meredith counters, settling into a defensive posture.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we ran into each other earlier at the library-- literally. We have the same phone and the same phone case. It isn’t a stretch to believe we could have picked up the wrong one.”
Typically logic is the way to Meredith’s heart. In this moment, she’s too keyed up to care.
“This-- you and me? It’s a really bad idea.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her heart rate. “We’ve been lucky so far. It’s not going to stay that way. One day someone is going to catch on, and the more people who know a secret, the less of a secret it is.”
“So we’ll just try harder on the subtlety front,” Ric argues, reaching for her.
Meredith takes another step away from him, shaking her head. The hurt that crosses his face makes her feel like a heartless bitch.
“We just need to step back for a while. Get back to our original dynamic. Research buddies, colleagues in the fight against vampire-y evil. Like you are with Bonnie or Caroline.”
“I’m not falling in love with Bonnie or Caroline.”
The depth of feeling in his voice almost undoes her, but Meredith stands firm. Regardless of her determination, however, she is unable to keep the wobble from her voice when she speaks.
“You’re my teacher, Ric.”
It’s like she slapped him. Actually, Meredith thinks, he would probably look less hurt if she’d physically hit him.
They stand in uncomfortable, tense silence. When Ric speaks, his voice is hoarse and empty.
“Fine. I’m your teacher.” He clears his throat. “It’s probably inappropriate for you to be at your teacher’s house on a Friday night.”
“Probably.”
She steps past him without looking at him. Even without seeing him, Meredith is uncomfortably aware of her body and how close to him she is. Quickly, she gathers her things.
Then she flees.
***
For once, winter in Mystic Falls brings snow. Actual, real, closing-school worthy snow. It's not white, though. It's grey and slushy and makes the roads treacherous and reflects Meredith's mood perfectly. She's curled up on the window seat in her room, blanket over her lap and woefully ignored dusty old book sitting beside her.
Bonnie texts and asks if she wants to come over to the Gilbert house; apparently she and Elena and Jeremy and Stefan are having some sort of winter-blues-banishing movie marathon and Caroline and Tyler might be coming if they can stop arguing long enough to step foot outside the Forbes house where Tyler's been staying since things blew up with his mother. Meredith doesn't feel like being social today, though, and so declines, telling Bonnie she would rather just read and nap.
She does neither. Instead, she stares at her phone, finger moving to and then rapidly away from the 'call' button for a good hour before she actually presses her finger to the touchscreen.
She gets no hello; she wasn't expecting one.
"I miss you."
"Mere..."
His sigh says enough; she can hear that he's just as miserable as she is. It should make her feel better but it doesn't.
"This staying away from each other thing isn't working."
The only part of that statement that shocks her is that it's him saying it and not her. She could've sworn the words were about to come out of her own mouth.
"No, it isn't."
The rest of the phone call is spent in silence.
and i won’t be warm
til i’m lying in your arms