Drabble Prompt #1
Feat James Kriet [B]utcher
Paragon / Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
If there was anything that Elijah Mikaelson knew, he knew vampire hunters. Considering his father was a vampire who hunted vampires, he knew there were others out there that tried to kill other creatures like himself that had been walking the earth for far too many years. He was standing in front of his favorite liquor cabinets with glass in hand.
Over the years he’d faced them all. Only one of them he truly feared and that was his own father. Hunters came and hunters went as time marched forward in its endless passage through the centuries. He’d seen them all. He’d watched the British Men of Letters form in the Old World all those years ago. He’d seen the Watcher’s Council form among several old wizards trying to turn against their own kind and foster these girls with demon blood that were called Slayers.
There were a whole new breed of these Slayers out and about these days. Slayers, hunters, they were all out there trying to put down beasts like him and his family. “So I’ve heard you’ve been playing house with a Winchester.” He spoke to the guest in his midst. He kept his back to her despite the fact she was known to be one of the best Slayers alive today.
A huff came from the petite form of James Kriet, Slayer extraordinaire. He had a smug grin on his face as he turned around to face her. “He’s not bad. Mostly for amusement purposes.” She answered with a look of sarcasm glowing in her dark hues.
“Which one was it again? The tall one or the bow legged one?” Elijah held up his finger to his lips trying to recall which Winchester it was that she had been linked to romantically. “All those lumbering piles of flannel tend to blur after a while.” He poured a glass from Klaus’ bourbon stash and held it out for the Slayer to take if she wanted to do so.
“The bow legged one. Dean.” She took the glass and held it in her hand for a brief moment. Elijah was impressed when he saw her down the liquid without flinching. His brows raised simultaneously and lowered. “What? Never see a woman drink bourbon before?”
He had a pleasant expression cross his lips. “I’ve seen plenty of women through the years put away the alcohol better than most men. I also tend not to talk to very many Slayers. They have a tendency to try and hit me with pointy things without saying anything to me.” His right index finger ran across the top of the glass before he began to partake of the liquid itself. “Words will always be words, however. Some of your predecessors have had the vocabulary of a Neanderthal. You, however, are quite different from all of them aren’t you?”
The oldest Original began to size up his guest wondering if she was packing vervain in her repetoire. Granted it wouldn’t bring serious damage to him, but still it was an inconvenience. “You’re as big an ass as your brother aren’t you?” The sarcasm in her voice was dripping with the intensity of a wooden stake.
Elijah was utterly amused at that statement. “Actually Niklaus is far bigger and he takes great pride in it.” So far what the Original saw of her, he actually found her very likable. No, he wasn’t going to kill this one like he had the others. Dean Winchester was another story however. That one was going to end up dying. When he did, Elijah didn’t want to face the wrath of this particular Slayer. Kriet could have been a Mikaelson in another life. He was almost certain of it.