Remember to comment and vote xx

Happy Year anniversary <3
Four chapters now, five chapters in like twelve hours time, then a week off xx - Bea

P.S. I graduated sixth form yesterday and am currently drunk off my ass, have been since Monday.
Hence why I haven't responded to comments lol. Will get to it soon.

Hope your weeks/weekends are good too, so much love to all of you.

When MJ got back to the city, she had a list of things to do.

It was still morning when she arrived, and her first task was still Mystic Falls related, getting a cab to a diner on the edge of the city. Whit was waiting. He'd gotten in first, waited in a Hotel until MJ had texted to say she was back too.

Everything about him was different to what she'd gotten used to.

Whit was the 'college boyfriend' she'd ended up with, who'd respected boundaries and been so polite that it had driven her a little mad. He'd always looked clean-cut and respectable, posture perfect, calm and collected. Every word MJ could come up with that connected to safety.

He'd been her overcorrection.

The summer after Junior Year, Klaus and the Hybrid Curse had sent MJ into an identity crisis, and she'd picked Whit to be her remedy instead of getting actual help.

It was a pretty hilarious coincidence that he ended up going into Medical Psychology.

It was also pretty 'hilarious' that he'd given her a whole book about the signs of emotional manipulation and how it affected development after they'd had a conversation about Ryos.

Unlike Kol, he hadn't outright said anything. He'd tried to get MJ to figure it out herself, and she just hadn't.

She'd applied the principals to her friendships.

It proved why they'd never last in the long run.

Whit was perfect on paper. He respected her, so he didn't want to push. He didn't want to seem controlling or educating, because he saw the underlying edge that came with their relationship. MJ had been in High School while he'd been in college.

He was a cautious person, and it played into her own worst instincts, allowing her to observe, rather than call out or engage.

MJ had thought seeing Whit in a diner would be funny. A trust fund baby surrounded by truck drivers on their way into the city.

What she found was someone shaken up by everything, jumpy every time the door opened in either fear, or the hope that it was her.

His clothes were still expensive, the type of expensive that made you question why they were expensive. Plain but branded shirts and jumpers, then a slick coat on the back of his chair.

He was sitting at a table in the corner, brunch ordered for both of them.

MJ didn't dare say that she'd already eaten, accepting the gesture, watching how he swallowed as she sat down, shifting back in the seat slightly.

"Thank you," MJ started, "Um, I know this is probably a lot."

"You're a witch."

Straight to the point.

"What do you mean by you're a witch?"

"I mean," MJ glanced around, placing a hand on the table between their plates, "Magic."

Out of her palm, a small ball of light was appearing, his entire body going completely still at the sight of it.

She made it vanish in a pop.

Whit's eyes locked on hers, "Tell me everything."

So, she did.

MJ didn't go into all the details of her life, focused mainly on what she knew about the Whitmore's and Mystic Falls. She even pulled out Wes's notes, explained how he and Aaron had died, and emailed him a copy of the information she'd gotten about Augustine.

That meant showing him MiMiPasare.

The website was a massive help, as it meant he started reading through some of the pages on his laptop rather than simply quizzing her. Because, yes, Whit had brought his slim laptop with him to make notes with.

Which she found incredibly cute.

Kol was right - she had a type, and that type was nerds.

Nerds and psychopaths.

Often both.

After explaining what the Whitmore Curse really was, he'd brought up his family bank accounts to scan through them. Sole owner. He was able to identify the Augustine Account Aaron had cut Wes off from using the dates and the fact he'd had to sign something to give Aaron permission to control it.

"Okay," He spun the screen to face her, "This is your brother's account."

MJ paused.

She'd mentioned that her brother had been involved, citing it as the reason she felt the need to come clean (rather than guilt surrounding Enzo's flirtation).

She hadn't expected Whit to tell her anything.

"He showed up at the start of this semester, and only two payments have been made to an account that isn't Wes's," He knew what deposits into Wes's accounts were labelled as, "KLDI, it has to be him."

The email address she'd found had been AugustineKLDI.

"And, when I..." He made a few changes to how it was displayed, "There had been seven payments to that account, starting in 2009."

Ryos had given that year too.

"Does KLDI stand for anything?"

"I don't know," She admitted, "Probably."

"Well," He spun the laptop back so he could read, "Think initials? Any family names?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because..."

Silence.

"Your brother screams shady."

"You can say that again."

"And you're helping me right now," Whit put it simply, "I wanna help you."

"You can help me by not seeking revenge."

Another silence.

"I know you probably want to...I've been there - "

"I don't."

MJ lips parted, "You don't?"

"I do," He looked at the plate of food he'd abandoned next to his laptop, "But I'm not about to go after two vampires I know basically nothing about, five minutes into knowing that vampires exist."

Thank god.

"...Can you tell me more about it all?"

"More?"

"How the hell did you end up involved with all this?" He pulled a face, "Other than being born into it. Like, how did you end up in Mysitc Falls?"

"You don't want my whole life story."

"Why not?"

"Becuase it kinda sucks."

Whit really looked at her, "What actually happened last year? The dead boyfriend, and guardian, and Carol Lockwood..."

Her eyes dropped.

"Okay."

Her reaction was clear that he'd guessed rig about there being more to the story.

"How can I help?"

"Help?"

"I don't want to go kill a vampire?" His voice became whispery, "I don't know how."

MJ could teach him...

"What I can do is stop other people from ending up in this type of situation."

She felt a warmth inside of her, "You'd want to do something like that?"

"You have the potential to," He still had MiMiPasare open, looking at the community tab, "There are people here asking for help."

"I know," MJ had even more in her emails, "I try to."

"But it's too much for just one person," He was shaking his head, "MJ - you have a network."

"I know."

It was a lot of pressure.

"I have knowledge, therefore I have an obligation to share it to keep people safe."

Like what she was doing with him.

"What if you had more than information, MJ?" He pitched, "What if you had money funding it?"

The Mikaelson credit card.

She hadn't even thought about using it for MiMi Pasare, tending to use it on her little charity projects within the human world.

"Augustine sounds the optimum of mucked up," He put it simply, "But, on paper? Scienctific cures and solutions? To help people when magic can't?"

Enzo had gotten her a copy of her brother's things to look in to...

"My brother is dead."

The entire Whitmore Family bar him were.

"There's someone on here asking for help because they're in a similar position. Because a vampire found out they were werewolves so is hunting them down one-by-one."

MJ hadn't seen that one yet.

She only let herself check the tab once a week, or she'd go insane trying to solve every supernatural problem in the world.

"They want a way to relocate - I could do that for them."

The decent-ness that MJ had needed post hybrid-sacrifice.

"I have the money to do that. You have all these people turning to you and that can't be - " Whit was looking at her in a different way to before, "You're nineteen, MJ."

"You're only twenty."

"Twenty-one in a week."

"I saw this book I thought you'd like," She actually managed a smile, "...Was gonna send it when I got called back home and..."

Found out about Aaron.

MJ loved gift buying.

She knew that Christmas was capitalist propogander, and birthdays were lowkey classist, but she loved the fact they gave her an excuse to think about her friends. How she could give them something that mattered.

It was why Kol buying her things had meant so much. Gifts were a way to show somebody that you saw them; really saw them.

"You could use this, MJ," Whit was staring at the homepage again, "If you had money, you could employ some of the people who come to you, across the country. Take the pressure off you, and make a difference."

Stop other kids from ending up in her situation.

"Let me take some of that pressure," He seemed almost captivated by all the different discussion boards, "Let this be my 'revenge.'"

"Reframe Whitmore's legacy in the world of the supernatural."

"We're not defined by our ancestors."

Of course he'd somehow picked that wording.

"I know I'm new to this all," He shuffled in his seat, "But if you give me things to read, or tell me stuff, I could be that first 'employee' or partner, or - "

"Whit," MJ needed to check, "Once you're in this life, you can't just tap out."

Elliot had worked so well because he'd known, but avoided it all.

"And it's deadly."

"It doesn't have to be."

His dirty blonde hair was longer than it had been the previous year, eyes tired.

"History shows how people put up barriers, and those barriers make society worse," He was firm in his view, "They trick people into thinking that their can't be peace between races, and cultures - that we can't be balanced. That having balance means losing something, not gaining it."

MJ had made a good choice by hiding in Whit and his humanity.

In another life, he was probably a version of her dad in her mum's world. Someone who saw and did good, creating the alternate world where she could've hid from supernatural society, so close to it himself, yet so far.

"You could use this to make a future - a good future."

"I want to."

"But you can't do that on your own. You shouldn't have to do it all."

MJ stared at her plate.

"Give me everything you have. Then give me time to read it," Whit asked, "Then we come up with a way to make sure people can get help rather than fear for their lives."

Ryos had said he had people working with him.

And MJ had so much else going on, that, in all honesty, she could use the help.

"I'll give you the details," She pulled out a page of her notebook, "So you can see the emails."

A beat.

"And, I have...I have a few video diaries that sum up the past two years of my life."

Which was easier than having to tell him herself.

"Then, there are people you should talk to. Who know about the supernatural on the run."

Beni with his witch-house connections.

"If you're serious, Whit, I'm in."

"Let's create an online supernatural safehaven."

And, just like that, the Whitmore Account formally used for Augustine, became the account funding MiMiPasare. MJ, the supernatural consultant, Whit contacting Beni to learn everything he could, the manager of it's 'outreach' section.

Beni had powers as a Kitsune. He could help people in ways Whit couldn't but lacked the ability to just travel and do that. He wouldn't if they worked together, through her.

Wrapping up their conversation meant giving a little bit more of an explanation to her life in Mystic Falls, then a tour of New Orleans and a few of its supernatural spots.

Then, Whit went back to California, ready to help, since they didn't need to be in the same state to run the website. They just needed phones to keep them on the same page.

With that sorted, MJ could moved to the next item on her to-do list.

It was a surprisingly simple list.
- Go back to her apartment,
- Wrap Davina up in blankets
- Give her hugs
- Give warm homemade food.

Part of MJ's taxi ride back into the city included going to a collection of supermarkets for ingredients. She intended to have the widest range of food possible – and she intended to learn Davina's favourites.

Buying food for two people were genuinely making her heart glow.

Her dad had taught her that food was how you let people know that you cared, hence why he'd been the main chef in the household. Her mum knew a few family dishes but had never learnt to properly cook, given her less than normal life, while he'd taken it upon himself to teach Ryos and MJ how to do everything from a young age.

One, to show how much he loved them by producing everything for them; two, to connect them with their heritage; three, so they could do the same for people in the future.

Davina deserved to feel that type of care.

MJ did text people that she was back in the city, but, unless she was at work, she was with Davina.

The teen needed someone to ease her back into the real world, but she wasn't meant to see the undead (Marcel, Sam, and Josh), and Cami was only getting busier with Kieran. Despite having office hours, MJ was the best candidate to help, and she wanted to, too.

After the next full moon, a month later, MJ headed back into the New Orleans supernatural mess.

In that time, she hadn't heard about anything bad in Mystic Falls, which she hoped was a good sign, but she had heard from Nadia. Thanking her again, confirming they'd left the country.

MJ's next task was locating the fourth and final witch, intending to kill her.

That task appeared to be the easiest.

She'd walked into The Compound and heard Klaus's voice coming from the upstairs balcony, monologuing at someone.

"They say the passage of time will heal all wounds."

It was a nice idea, but witches and vampires seemed to thrive on never getting over things.

"But, the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, and the more difficult the process to become whole again is. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of our suffering."

MJ headed up the stairs, unsure whether to interpret the conversation as a sign he was about to kill someone or him trying to appear like a calm and reasonable individual.

"And scars make the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again. So, as time moves along, we get lost in distractions. Act out in frustration."

Describing himself.

"React with aggression."

Definitely describing himself.

"Give in to anger. And, all the while, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger, and before we know it, the time passes. We heal. Ready to begin anew."

"Spoken like a man who's made peace with his demons."

MJ froze in the doorway to Klaus's art room, staring at the scene in front of her.

Klaus pulling on a shirt, the red-haired witch Genevieve draped on his couch in a lingerie dress.

"Well," MJ lifted a hand, "This certainly makes my life easier."

The wooden end of a paintbrush flew right at her like a bullet.

Genevieve was just able to react in time to halt it in front of her neck, "Rude."

"Rude is stealing the life of an innocent teenager," MJ repeated the action, only for Klaus to be the one to grab it before it could kill her, "Dude!"

Klaus gave her a look, "Stand down."

"No chance."

He came towards her, only the bottom two buttons of his shirt done up, "Mira."

"Nu-uh, she needs to go."

"We haven't even been properly introduced," Genevieve mused, straightening up, "And already so hostile."

"We have," MJ looked over Klaus's shoulder, "In the woods. Surrounded by the dead werewolves you used to trick Rebekah, so, not only were you hurting her – "

Werewolves were something Klaus should care about.

"But you let the people you tricked die for you too," MJ wanted their witch troubles over, "Then – then you were threatening Elijah, and Hayley, and me. So I killed Bastianna – and now I'm going to kill you."

She came a little further into the room.

"I'd say that's a mighty fine introduction."

Genevieve wasn't amused by her dry voice.

"Ah," Elijah decided to walk into the room too, also glaring at Genevieve, "At last you return to us, Mira!"

He picked up a pair of heels and held them to the enemy witch.

"Maybe you can talk my brother out of his choice to let one of his monsters linger in his bed."

"I think we know for a fact that Mira enjoys finding devil's in her bedsheets," Klaus taunted.

Then his hair was on fire.

MJ grinned at him, rapidly patting the flames out, "Either let me kill her or get her out of my sight."

"You're in a mood."

"A murderous one. Yes."

Genevieve rolled her eyes, "This is why witches call your 'kind' crazy."

"Oh, you're asking for it," MJ lunged, Klaus catching her body on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around her knees as she tried to get out of his grip, "Don't make me siphon you, Nik! It'll just give me more power to kill her with!"

"I'll take the hint," Genevieve snatched her shoes from Elijah.

"You're the one stealing a girls life," MJ continued to struggle, "But I'm the crazy one?"

"I trust you can find your clothing and the door," Elijah pushed her shirt towards her with his shoe, "Hurry now."

Genevieve left the three of them, giving Klaus a lingering gaze as he kept a hold on MJ.

She whacked his back to try and get him to put her down, but he just turned left and right, chuckling as she hit harder and enjoying the fact she couldn't focus enough to do a spell because of the loopy movements.

"Don't kill my dates."

"Don't date psychos!"

"You can hardly judge love."

"Put the poor girl down, Niklaus."

He did.

MJ huffed, pulling on her shirt since it had ridden up slightly, glaring as Klaus finally finished buttoning up his.

"Sleeping with someone who tortured your sister?" She called out, "That's a healthy way to deal with your problem. Definitely won't bite you in the ass. Not at all."

"Thank you, Mira."

"She also revealed the truth about our sister's treachery," Klaus defended.

"And as a consequence," Elijah turned from him, voice low, "Rebekah is gone forever."

"A desire which she apparently harboured for quite some time!"

"Niklaus – it has been a month!" Elijah hoped for a break in Klaus nonchalance about the situation, "I feel our sister's loss as deeply as you."

"You guys are aware the internet exists, right?" MJ raised an eyebrow, "I spoke to Rebekah this morning."

They'd done a catch up over breakfast while Davina had still been asleep.

"Not living in each other's pockets doesn't mean she's like, never-to-be-seen no-longer-in-the-family."

Both of them stared at her.

"Oh, I forgot," She nodded sarcastically, "You guys got dependency issues."

"Coming from you, love," Klaus challenged, "How is my dead baby brother doing?"

MJ shot daggers at him as Elijah straightened up, "What - "

"Not the point," She pivoted, "Focus on being angry at each other."

"The point is that Niklaus must stop distracting himself with this ridiculous behaviour," Elijah let her dodge, "And channel it into some kind of action."

Klaus used the brush he'd caught, dipping it into a fresh pallet, "Why must I, exactly?"

"Because, throughout Marcel's tenure, the city grew accustomed to having a king. You wanted this throne," He reminded him, "Now, you must accept the responsibility that accompanies that."

"Apologies," The hybrid began to paint, "But I'm rather ensconced in other pursuits."

"If you can so easily neglect your home," Elijah snatched the brush from him, "I wonder what will become of your daughter?"

MJ tensed.

"Have you forgotten what it was like to live beneath the threat of violence?" Elijah half-saved himself by making it about Mikael, "We must work together, Niklaus. Let's make this city whole again."

Klaus stepped into Elijah's personal space before slowly saying, "Perhaps it is too broken to mend."

He took the paintbrush back.

"That's not true," MJ moved to look at the painting.

It was on Genevieve in her lingerie.

"Derivative."

"Jealous."

"Of the lack of talent or the dull subject."

He retorted by flicking paint at her.

MJ closed her eyes just as it splattered across her face.

She turned to Elijah, reopening her eyes, "Has he been this annoying your entire life?"

"You know the answer to that question," Elijah leant against the doorframe, "Talk some sense into him."

"The idea Mira has control over me – " Klaus had dabbed another colour onto his brush, wiping it across her face before she could stop him, " – Is adorable."

"I swear – "

A second stroke cut her off.

Both of them had crossed her face, going over her ears and into her hair.

"You are literally a five-year-old!"

"Hm," He smiled cheekily.

"I leave you alone for a few weeks to focus on Davina...." MJ ignored his third attempt to get paint on her, letting it happen to focus on Elijah, "The city isn't too broken – "

A different colour.

"I refuse to believe that, so what's the plan?"

Klaus worked around their conversation, starting to get paint on the shoulders of her top as he brushed up her neck and on her chin. He'd clearly decided she was part of whatever vision he had to keep his claws in the city, MJ assumed anyway. She knew painting was a metaphor for control to him.

A metaphor for freedom to her.

"The plan is a meeting," Elijah ran with the conversation, despite his disapproving face at Klaus, "Kieran is going to summon a selection of people from each faction so we can negotiate a new peace."

"Okay. Good, group work."

"Group work, in a way."

"A way?"

"You'll see."

"If I'm not going to be King, Mira," Klaus pressed the pallet into her cheek, causing her to close her eyes and count to ten, "Who do you think is?"

"I think we don't need a King," She didn't even hesitate, eyes still closed, not giving him the satisfaction, "I think that ideology is part of the problem."

"Ah, yes," Elijah mocked, "American Democracy."

"God no! Our government isn't run properly either," She pushed the pallet away and wiped her palm on her cheek to get some of it off, "The electoral college is dumb."

She looked at the amount of excess paint on her palm.

"We vote on Tuesdays because that's what people decided based on religion and transport in 1845, despite it being a forgettable and busy weekday now. And there's a voter suppression problem – we just need people who are willing to work together."

"This city doesn't have that," Klaus said bluntly.

MJ wiped the back of her hand on him, "It might."

She'd expected him to retaliate to her getting it on him, but he just smiled wider, stopping his quest to annoy her and going back to the canvas.

He was in a mood with Elijah, clearly using her as a way to annoy him without an actual confrontation, and – yeah, MJ still thought it probably represented something deeper going on in his head to do with power. The paint claiming her as one of his pieces.

"Well," Elijah rolled his eyes at them, "You are welcome to join the meeting at St Anne's."

"The witches will love that."

"The witches will...as the kids say, 'deal with it'"

MJ laughed.

Then she turned to Klaus, "I need to talk to you first."

He feigned honour, still focused on his painting.

"I think my brother's trying to kill me."

That caught both of their attention.

"Not really," She put her hands up, "I'm being paranoid, and I need you to tell me I'm being reasonable, so I hear how cr – "

She stopped herself.

"So I can get my head back on straight."

"Well," Klaus put the paintbrush down, "If you'd let me kill him when I met him, we wouldn't even need to have this discussion."

Elijah looked between them, "You met her brother?"

"I did, and he showed an unnatural amount of strength. I went to end his life, but Mira stood in the way."

Elijah looked at MJ. A 'tell me he's kidding' look.

"He rushed at him; it was hardly an assassination attempt," MJ explained, "He isn't a fan of you guys."

"And I will take great joy in killing him now."

MJ frowned.

Klaus took a breath, losing the high energy when she didn't just roll her eyes, "You think he wants to kill you, Mira. Do I need to remind you that you're usually right?"

"Except I'm being – " She stopped, "He showed up, is helping out my friends in small ways, but told them and me that he came to town because of a medical experience thing. Turns out, not the complete truth."

"Sibling betrayal," Elijah mused, "Our family's forte."

"Happens to the best of us," She took a seat on the sofa arm, "I was already avoiding him because of all the lying. But I finally cracked and told him I was here. He got upset that I didn't trust him."

"But you were right not to," Klaus pointed out, "As you said, he's lying to you."

"My dilemma," She nodded, "The real reason he came to town was to use doppelgänger blood to break this two-thousand-year-old curse. The original way to break it requires my death."

Elijah tensed.

Klaus already knew that information, "And you see where my desire to end his life comes from, brother."

"He says he's found another way."

"If he had, why didn't he tell you already?" Klaus stated the obvious.

"Exactly!" She pressed her hands into the sofa, "He sounds so truthful all the time, and I see his face, and I love him, and I don't want anything bad to happen to him – "

"But he might want something bad to happen to you," Elijah pushed his suit jacket back.

"And I just don't know."

Elijah thought about it, "You didn't stick around to find out?"

"Figured that if he was trying to kill me, I should maybe not be around to die."

"That does seem logical."

"But he also told me to go...that he didn't want me in town, so I couldn't even be an option to break the curse."

"Which makes it seem like he has your best interests at heart."

Another nod.

"Do you not trust him because of the history, or because you don't believe he could've found another way?"

"I believe there's always a loophole," MJ looked to the ceiling, "I believe he's incredibly smart."

He always had been.

"He achieves his goals no matter how unrealistic...and if he loves me anywhere near as much as I love him, despite the fact we've been distant, he wouldn't be able to kill me."

Even when Ryos been too young to earn real money – when they'd both been somewhat homeless, he'd sent a sewing machine and a camera for her birthdays. So could feel a little closer to normal kid.

He was her brother.

"But I've spent my life with a list of people to avoid because of my heritage. Certain witch troupes."

Technically MJ had already put herself in danger by visiting the Floare that still hated siphoners.

"And now he's with one of them..." MJ still didn't look at them, "And a voice in my head is just saying 'his life would be better without you!'"

His bad phrasing at the camp site hadn't helped.

"'History proves that everyone's life would be better without you! He should kill you!'"

"You don't genuinely believe that, do you?"

Silence.

Elijah looked at Klaus.

He was staring at MJ too, slowly turning back to his canvas to avoid having to look at his brother.

"I don't know," She mumbled, "You've gotta admit, bad things seem to follow me..."

"Mira – "

"Don't make it into something," She waved her hands while finally looking them in the eye, "I'm fine."

She knew she wasn't - but she hadn't been fine for a long time. She didn't want to address it.

"It's just...I don't want him in a dangerous situation because he's trying to keep me safe, and that's what it feels like."

"I say," Klaus smiled, "Gut him."

Elijah ignored the suggestion, "So you do, or you don't trust him?"

"I have no idea," MJ answered honestly, "There's a massive difference between lying about things with the whole 'I need to protect you' excuse and being willing to kill me."

And even when Ryos was caught in a lie, he had an explanation that usually proved it was only a half-lie.

Kol had seen him working at the hospital.

He had genuinely passed exams and picked a residency. It just happened to line-up with his supernatural 'mission.'

"And can I really let myself be that paranoid? Can I really go 'he lied a few times, now I can't trust him not to kill me?'"

"You know what my brother would do in your position," Elijah mimed pulling out a dagger.

"Which is exactly why I want him to encourage me," MJ looked to Klaus, "If he was saying this about one of you, I would be lecturing him. And making fun of him – probably both."

Definitely both.

"I need him to say it, so I can stop being...you know...." She finally caved and said the word, "So I can stop acting crazy."

"Mira," Klaus gave her a stern look, "I repeat, when are you wrong?"

The terrifying question she hadn't wanted anyone to ask.

MJ took a breath.

When was she wrong?"

"I'm always wrong about Ryos."

That was part of her problem.

"There hasn't been a single moment since our mum died that I've known what he was thinking. Which means," She shook her head, "If I think he's trying to kill me?"

MJ never got him right.

"I'm wrong."

The moment of clarity she'd needed.

Klaus started setting up a second easel.

"I've been so sure of things recently, and then he shows up, and suddenly it's like I'm a kid again."

She was trying to break the cycle of behaviour she was trapped in, but it just felt like treading water in the middle of a storm, no patrol on their way to save her.

"And I can't think straight."

Something MJ couldn't cope with on a regular day.

"I can't assume the worst of him when I assume the best in other people."

"I still think you shouldn't trust him," Klaus muttered.

She smiled a little, "Thank you."

He didn't, grabbing a new pallet to create a slightly different colour scheme.

The major difference between her relationship with Klaus and her one with Kol?

Though MJ knew they were both smart, and she did trust both of them. The way she trusted them was different.

MJ trusted Kol to be right about Ryos.

She just wasn't ready for him to be, so she'd let them argue.

MJ trusted Klaus to always come through eventually.

Overdramatics, mistrust, and mistreatment of his own family members meant that any opinion Klaus threw her way - even if MJ knew he had a point, was automatically thrown into the 'stop being a dramatic baby' pile in her brain.

She'd come to Klaus for 'peace of mind,' but that phrase was really code for, 'give me a reason to invalidate my worries.'

A reaction that was out of Klaus's control.

MJ went with Elijah to the Church so they could be there before everyone else.

She'd washed the paint off her face, but Klaus had been using oil, meaning there were a few bits stuck in the baby hairs around her ears, stained patches of colour over her cheeks.

She'd tried to pick at the bits in her hair as gently as she could, but it would need a proper shower or two. Or her oil paint cleaner paste back at her apartment – which smelt disgusting.

"I am happy your back," Elijah commented as they entered.

MJ still didn't like churches, but they were far more appealing when they were just meeting spots over actual holy locations.

"Thank you?"

He looked at the sun shining through the windows, "It will be entertaining to see how long my brother's low-minded tryst lasts now you are."

"You know I don't actually have a say in any of that business, right?"

He didn't respond.

"If I did, he wouldn't have slept with Caroline," MJ knew her friends had been heading towards a break-up, but she could've lived without the Klaus explosion destroying them, "Being in shared friend custody isn't fun."

"For someone with your intelligence, you are remarkably oblivious sometimes."

"Huh?"

"You have more sway over him than you realise."

She didn't respond.

"Whether you intend to or not, you calm him," He changed subjects, "How was Katherine's death?"

"She walked to it," MJ continued the lie she'd been spouting perfectly, "But she went out with a bang."

MJ she let her mood drop, her brain went through the list of things bugging her.

Focusing on Davina had given her a few weeks to ignore how her rune had stopped working, but now her mind was drifting back to it. She'd been looking at resurrection ideas, organising the ingredients together and even letting Davina see Esther's Grimoire as she tried to create another spell.

If she could restore Kol's body, then hijack his spirit using Esther's magic, rather than Floare ones – surely she could bring him back? That wouldn't technically be resurrection, just spiritual realignment and possession, so she might get away with it without angering the universe too much.

It was a version of what she'd done for Katherine, MJ trying to find out how she could make it work since Kol didn't have Traveller/Floare blood in him.

...But Kol had been mad at her, and now her rune was broken.

"There's a new guy in Mystic Falls who could totally be related to you," She blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow.

"It was a bit weird for me, but whatever."

"On the topic of family, your brother?"

"Already said everything I need to."

"Are you sure?"

MJ didn't respond.

His eyes went a little softer, "Friends listen, don't they?"

She fidgeted.

"Mira."

"Okay," She took a seat on the holy table, "I don't know. He's never done anything with the intention to hurt me before. He's supported me...but I think I've just gotten used to losing people."

Elijah took a note of the specification she'd made.

"Or being disappointed by them."

A quick throat clear to get rid of the croak that was forming.

"My brain's reached this point where it's like, if I care...if I let Ryos be my brother, he's going to die like everyone else," She pushed up so her legs could swing a little, "And I can't lose him – I can't be alone."

Elijah leant on the table, "Alone?"

"My dad's been compelled to forget I exist. My mother is dead. Ric is dead. Carol is dead...my brother is distant, but at least he's alive. At least there's someone out there who knows who I am."

Her New York friends held the record for knowing her the longest, and she'd only been majorly in their lives for three years.

"He's the only consistent thing in my life."

And the last thing she had left of her childhood.

"You once told me he never took your calls."

"He didn't," She mumbled, "But he bought me my first camera. And my sewing machine – and he got me into reading travel writing."

MJ had been called weird for liking non-fiction during High School, but she did like it.

She liked it because Ryos had sent her a book filled with stories from around the world, and she'd fallen in love with it. Because he'd then sent her a list of recommendations of similar books and told her to film and send reviews of them.

He may not have watched them, having never responded to her thoughts, but it made him feel present.

"And he was the person who helped me realise how smart I was when it came to school," MJ couldn't deny that so much of her life came back to Ryos, "And even if he didn't take the calls, he was still there. He's always been there, and I don't know what I would do if he wasn't."

Out of their family, she couldn't be the one who made it out alive.

"There's always been something comforting about knowing he's out there. Doing something good to help others. To infuriate me and then make me feel bad about being mad."

Elijah turned away.

"Elijah?"

"Do you think my family has done this to you?"

"Done what?"

"Made you doubt your own blood?" He sounded as guilty as she felt whenever she spoke to Ryos.

"God no."

"What makes you sure?" Elijah took her profile in carefully, "Why don't you think we could be bad for you?"

"I'm sure, Elijah. My paranoia comes from the train wreck that was my life before I met any of you."

He raised an eyebrow, and MJ realised he didn't know half as much about her history as Klaus, and Klaus didn't know half as much as Kol after their constant texting and skype calls.

"For the past five years, I haven't gone a year without almost dying."

"You only lived in Mystic Falls for two years."

"Buried alive, age fourteen."

Fingers held up to count.

"Got caught in the supernatural fight scene at fifteen."

Chicago.

"Taken as a body to be drained at sixteen."

Scary-Mary and the Malraux wolf pack.

"I have a whole list of the stuff during seventeen and eighteen but getting shot by a dark object will always be number one for Junior Year - thank you John Gilbert."

Then, her train wreck of a senior year.

"I think I can give your mum eighteen?"

Given the number of attempts Esther had made, she deserved to be on the list.

"Getting Bonnie to hex me and being Ric's blood bag was muy entretenido."

"And you stay with us because?"

"I don't know," She shrugged, "Is it that hard to believe I might like your company?"

"One can hope."

MJ lent to the side to brush her shoulder into his.

With the Mikaelson's, she felt safe.

And she never felt crazy.

"Not too much," He added, "I hope."

"Hm."

"That comment Klaus made?"

MJ groaned, "He's a little snitch."

Elijah made an amused noise.

"I may have spoken to Kol's spirit a few times - it's nothing."

"I'm sure."

MJ raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever he wants from you - don't give it to him."

She shifted.

"He has requested something," He smiled sadly at the reaction, "I assume?"

"Nope."

"Don't lie to me, Mira."

"It was my idea," She rolled her eyes, "I want to bring him back. He's helping."

Elijah's expression turned dark.

"Honestly!"

"Don't let him use you, Mira."

"You never even saw us together," She dismissed, "You don't know a thing about our relationship, so you don't get to judge it."

"But I know my brother."

"And I know him too."

Elijah actually laughed, "Don't compare a three-month-long relationship to ten centuries of brotherhood."

"Brotherhood where Kol was kept in his box?"

They were locked in a stare-off.

"Whatever," MJ stood down, "He's not using me - and I know that because he's stopped pulling back."

Elijah wasn't used to the ghost lingo.

"To talk to me," She rephrased, "To 'use me,' he'd need to talk to me."

Her voice became bitter.

"And we had a fight, so he's no longer doing that."

"Oh."

"Yeah," MJ glanced at her shoes, "If he was just using me, he wouldn't care. He would put up with me until he was alive, then kill me. But he's now actively not letting me see him."

Kieran appeared to greet them.

"Not the time to have this conversation."

The hex was still taking its toll, but since it hadn't consumed Kieran yet, he could go about some of his duties. Until he passed, there wasn't exactly anyone to take over his role in the human faction, so he did need to be there for whatever Elijah was planning.

MJ had tried to siphon him again after she'd been back in the city for a few days – but he and Cami had refused to let her.

She didn't understand why considering it had been a potential solution, but sane-Kieran wasn't okay with her trying to help him if it meant seeing her vomit black goo.

Kieran was the only human there, then Diego arrived with two other vampires from Marcel's old inner circle, Genevieve waltzing in with two French Quarter Witches behind her.

Since it was just about how The Quarter would operate, it didn't seem like any of the other covens in the city would be getting involved, which MJ thought was a mistake on Elijah's part. If the other covens had been against The Harvest, they were probably more amenable, and they'd help keep Genevieve in her place.

"Is it safe to be here," Genevieve said while taking a seat on one side of the large square table Kieran had set up for them, "Or are you going to try and kill me again?"

The vampires on the right, the witches on the left, Kieran, MJ, and Elijah all slightly separate

"Hey, Kieran," MJ looked over where she was sitting, "Are there any holy daggers on here. I'm feeling stabby."

Elijah gave her a look, "Mira."

"I want peace in the city," She reaffirmed, "I'll behave for a bit because killing you in the middle of a peace summit seems like asking the trouble."

Because the universe was a little bitch like that.

"But I'm getting that girl back."

Her declaration caught the vampire's attention, Kieran using the slightly hushed voices to start the meeting.

"St. Anne's has long been neutral ground in our city," He tapped his hand at the opposite end of the table, "So, it only fits that we gather in this chamber to bring harmony to the place we call home."

He looked tired, and his voice was low, but he cared about the city, so he was powering through.

"Thank you all for coming," He took a seat too.

"Yes," Elijah held up an old-looking document, "Thank you for coming."

He walked closer to the group while reading it.

"These are the rules of the city. According to Marcel Gerard," He put on a French accent for his last name which made MJ smile, "Which of course...."

Her smile got bigger as he ripped the paper up.

"No longer apply."

A beat.

"Because I'm in charge."

She frowned.

"You said that if we came along, that we would get to run things by ourselves," Diego challenged, causing MJ to hop off the communion table and walk around the group to see each reaction, "Never mentioned anything about making yourself king."

"You were each selected to represent your own communities," He reasoned, "I'll honour that."

The trademark phrase.

"However, any issues that arise between factions will come to me."

"And what of her?" A witch pointed at MJ.

"Yes. Why is the siphoner here?" Genevieve added sharply, "She's refused to join."

"Actually," MJ beamed, "I can't wait to join!"

Genevieve's face went pale.

"And that reaction," She gestured, dropping the pep, "Is why I haven't."

MJ knew she needed to be smart to get accepted, and she really wanted to be accepted.

"You talk badly of how I haven't joined, but if I had, I wouldn't be welcome either. Old witches would rather see me dead than admit I'd be an incredibly useful ally."

A sentence that garnered her even more vampire focus.

Genevieve kept her composure, "The French Quarter Coven has never been home to a siphoner before."

"As you say, Genevieve," Elijah interrupted, "Mira here is a siphoner. She lives in the city, therefore..."

"As you represent the witches," MJ held her head high, "I'm the only person who can represent me."

Loophole.

"Whether I join a coven or not, you all seem to think my species is just so important. Therefore, I have to be here."

Use their 'racism' against them.

"Is that gonna be a problem?"

No response.

"Now," Elijah continued, "We are all responsible for the current chaos in the city. However, you have one very simple choice ahead of you here: you can all play nicely together, or you can leave."

Everyone shifted.

"Where are the wolves?" MJ asked.

Elijah didn't look at her to respond, "Not invited."

"They're back on two legs. They need to be factored in."

"They don't," A vampire scoffed.

MJ nodded falsely, taking a step back and pulling out her phone as the first discussion about territory began, texting Hayley and Sam. Her future for the city had everyone in it, which meant the wolves needed to be there.

Though the debate about the places the witches could go versus where the vampires could did start peacefully, it did not end that way.

A map was pulled out over the table to mark the spots factions were already in charge of, followed by where they thought needed changing. This created a problem as the vampires were in charge of pretty much everywhere and weren't about to give that up, and the witches weren't looking for a middle ground; they were looking to claim everything themselves.

"This is our city, too!" Diego yelled, "We should be able to go wherever the hell we want!"

"We would consider it an act of war!" Genevieve retorted.

"Which is ridiculous!" MJ got in the middle, "It's a city! Putting up 'you shall not pass' barriers is unreasonable. It doesn't factor in real life."

"You've barely lived here," The witch on the left dismissed, "What would you know about it?"

"I know my job expects me to go everywhere, regardless of supernatural territory. We can't expect people to avoid jobs, housing, or education just because of their species."

Keeping her voice calm was an art.

"I know that in the short time I've been here, all of Marcel rules were broken anyway."

"So you think we don't need rules?" Kieran had a dark look in his eyes.

"I think we need rules about violence," She reasoned, "I don't think we need to ban people from areas of a public city."

"A witch's holy space should never be exposed to a vampire," Genevieve justified.

"God, I wanna make a dirty joke right now."

Considering the woman was literally sleeping with Klaus.

"The holy spaces are spots like the cemetery, which is already open territo – "

"But it shouldn't be," Genevieve interrupted, "It's our land. Sophie Deveraux made it inaccessible once. We can make it that way again."

"Why?"

"Because it's disrespectful to our spirits to let them wander freely."

"And what of the vampires who have dead family buried there?" MJ pointed out, "It's the city's cemetery."

She was really trying to get them to realise how stupid they sounded.

"It's tied to our magic, sure, but it's the home to more than just witches. You wanna talk about disrespect? It's disrespectful to the dead to forbid their family from visiting because of their species."

"Their family can be removed."

"No way!" Diego looked murderous, "You're not un-burying anyone!"

"We don't need to have a territory debate, all that does is put up more dividing lines," MJ put her hands on the table, "Haven't you guys ever heard of the phrase, 'Strength - '"

She motioned to both sides with the title.

"Strength united is stronger."

Used in relations to Worker's Unions, but relevant to their situation.

"We need decisions about feeding and daylight rings – and holidays run by each faction but celebrated by anyone who wants to enjoy them – "

"Vampires will take advantage of our festivals as feeding days!"

"Which is where the rules come in," MJ looked at the witches, "So they know not to spill certain blood."

"I'm not just gonna do something because your spirits don't like it," Diego mocked.

"Which is a ridiculous stance to take," She scolded him too, "A truce requires both sides to be reasonable."

The witches had been more difficult until that comment, so they'd been her focus.

"You don't spill blood on the witch high holidays in exchange for daylight rings or an upped blood supply from the hospital, the human faction's potential offering."

"Wonderful suggestion!" Genevieve said sarcastically, "Bribe them!"

"It's not a bribe. It's trade."

"And what do we get from this trade?"

"Peace in the city."

Not enough.

"Vampire blood for healing things faster than magic can?" MJ repeated the list she'd given the old human faction, "Vampire involvement in the police force to actually lower crime rates and stop wrongful arrests?"

"A truth spell can do anything compulsion can – "

"We're getting nowhere," Kieran shoved the table, "You vile creatures cannot agree."

"Father, calm yourself," Elijah called, "Please."

Kieran seemed to wake up.

"Thank you."

"I'm still not signing any treaty that allows vampires in The Cauldron, or the cemetery, or – "

"Are you serious?" Hayley stormed into the room, "You're dividing up the city, and the werewolves don't even get a say?"

Diego pushed up from his chair to point at her, "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Diego, sit," Elijah glared until he did, "We are not dividing the city. We're establishing boundaries – "

"No, Elijah!" Hayley's hand gestured towards him, "There's not gonna be peace if the werewolves are excluded."

She put her hands on her hips.

"They want a seat at the table."

Diego and Genevieve scoffed.

"I agree," MJ tried for a smile, "Which is why I texted her."

"That wasn't your call to make," Genevieve looked at Elijah, "This is what happens when you involve children in an adult discussion."

"I'm the only person here who's made a single valid point," MJ's voice was flat.

"She isn't wrong," Kieran sighed, somewhat disappointed by the situation, "She's nineteen, and she's the only one of you who seems equipped to actually lead."

No one could tell if that was the hex making him incredibly negative of his honest exhausted opinion.

"And we would've found out eventually," Hayley pointed out, "MJ telling me just means I'm a little bit less mad than I would've been."

Diego snarled, "You don't get to be here."

"If the werewolves don't get included, I can guarantee that you will all regret it."

Elijah stood up to hold her glare.

"Lower the threatening tone from the eleven you're at," MJ suggested, "To around maybe a four?"

"Ha!" Genevieve folded her arms, "Coming from the girl's who's tried to kill me today."

Diego turned to glare at the witch, "Can she try again?"

"Oh," MJ mused, "She will be."

Elijah slammed his hands on the table.

Silence.

"Hayley," He grabbed her arm, "A word."

"MJ!" Hayley protested, "To keep him honest."

Elijah's face was more offended than MJ had ever seen before, and it made her laugh.

Good on Hayley for allowing herself to realise she might've been wrong to label Elijah as the golden boy.

They went into the side section, leaving the others to return to arguing about something MJ didn't even think was relevant. The city should be open to everyone. She was half-convinced they were all so focused on territory as a way to ignore how they might get along if allowed to mingle.

"Do you have any idea what it took just to get those people in one room together?" Elijah complained.

"No, actually, I don't," Hayley glared, "Because I didn't even know what you were doing out here until someone else told me."

Elijah gave MJ a look.

"She needed to know!"

"Tell me something, Elijah," Hayley's voice softened, "Did you leave the werewolves out because of me?"

"I excluded them because they no longer reside in The French Quarter," Elijah covered for himself, "My immediate concern is to end the mounting conflict here."

Hayley looked to MJ too, and she just shrugged.

"I can assure you that once this treaty is solidified, it will expand to include your people."

"And until then, I should tell them what?" She lifted her shoulders, "Sit? Stay?"

"See if you can get them to roll over," MJ added to the sarcasm.

"I would prefer that you remove yourself from the process altogether."

For a moment, Hayley looked hurt, then she found a way to somehow make her glare harsher.

Elijah shifted a little, walking closer to her, "Hayley, are you absolutely certain that you shouldn't return to The Compound?"

"You think the baby belongs there?" Hayley wasn't blinking, "You think that's where she'll be safe?"

"Is the Bayou any better?"

"Sanitary wise," MJ spoke up, "I'd advice The Compound."

"Traitor," Hayley jabbed, "You're supposed to be on my side here!"

"I'm on the side of the wolves getting a voice," MJ nodded, " I'm also on the side of you and Klaus learning to co-parent."

Which would probably take years,

"And most importantly," She tilted her head, "I'm on the side of that baby not getting an eye infection every week from living in a literal swamp."

All of the houses in the Bayou screamed 'splinter central.'

"It's how pack births work!"

"If my mum had followed Floare birthing rites, I should've been born at the highest point above sea level in Valencia, surrounded by a circle of chanting nomads, then fed a potion with blood in it; to officialise my magic."

Neither Elijah nor Hayley knew how to react to that mouthful, the Original blinking rapidly.

"Then, I should've been bathed in Coconut Kefir mixed with green tea and lemon – though," She paused, "I want to assume my mum did do that part once she was sent home, but considering she never gave me the potion, I'm not convinced..."

She'd only gotten it from the group she'd met in New York.

"Traditions change."

"But – "

"Do you really want to push a screaming and liquid covered baby out of you in a forest?"

Silence.

"Mhmm," She smiled in victory, "Besides that, the wolves deserve a voice."

"Exactly," Hayley and her were back on the same page, "Give them one, Elijah. You know it's the right thing to do."

She walked out, coat flowing behind her, and Elijah turned to MJ, exasperated.

"If you aren't willing to give everyone a voice," She put a hand on his arm, "It means nothing anyway."

He was trying to help.

"Our rules won't be theirs. They'll break them. Then everyone else will start breaking them too."

Elijah looked back to the argument.

"Just saying," Her pitch went up, "Genevieve's being difficult...."

He raised an eyebrow.

"We kill her? Not only do we get the Harvest girl back, but we no longer have to deal with her opinion!"

"Are you actually suggesting murder as a reasonable solution to this?"

"Yes?"

"Mira – "

"Don't act like you're above it."

He sighed, "And I was so close to commending you for your mature behaviour this morning."

"You can still be proud of all my other suggestions," MJ beamed, pushing up on toes.

The high school overachiever in her was addicted to praise, and Elijah was the only person who could count as a figure of authority she might earn an 'A' from.

Her phone beeped.

"I've gotta go," She smiled sadly, "You need to get them into a more reasonable mindset. Once you have, text me."

"You're leaving?"

"They're not prepared for peace yet, and I'm supposed to be taking photos of Giuseppe's Pub for some piece about an anniversary in like twenty minutes."

"Your determination to live a normal life is slightly unnecessary."

"It's enjoyable."

~***~

A vampire ran the pub, and it was a nightwalker hiding spot, so MJ had deliberately pitched a movement photography collection to her boss.

Pictures where the interior would be in focus, but all the people would be bustling about, blurry, none of their faces recorded and kept in a vault for someone to recognise in a few decades. Vampires and blur saved MJ the hassle of checking that people caught in frame were okay with their picture taken, and it meant she could avoid peak business hour.

She'd learned that photographing local pubs was a nightmare when they were open to the general public. People had no respect for personal space or expensive cameras.

After showing her boss some long exposure dance pictures she'd taken, he'd approved.

It was an hour and a half later by the time MJ felt like she'd gotten everything she wanted, chatting happily with the owner before noticing that Josh had arrived sometime after her, snapping a photo to get his attention.

"You just scared the life out of me!" He pulled earphones out.

He was sitting in a corner booth, a black hoodie on and up, music loud.

"If you don't wanna get killed," She gave him an over the shoulder hug from behind the booth seat, "You shouldn't be blocking your senses."

"Noted."

MJ slid into the seat opposite him, "How've you been since you ditched my apartment?"

"Contemplating whether or not leaving is worth it."

"Why haven't you?"

"I...I don't really know where I'd go."

"Fair enough," She held the camera up and snapped another picture of him, "You look like a perfect emo twenty-year-old, and I need that saved to hold against you later on."

He smiled, tugging his hood down, "Thanks for implying I'm gonna have a 'later on.'"

Chatting meant MJ got to hear where he'd been the past month, his MIA act meaning that literally no one had seen or heard from him. Keeping to the shadows and staying alert was becoming a forte, and MJ had to applaud how good Josh had gotten, even if she thought he should just go back to crashing with her.

Marcel hadn't left town either, but he'd kept across the river.

Well, no.

He'd been texting MJ as if he had been sticking to it. Josh revealed that a few of the nightwalkers had supposedly spotted him meeting with Thierry in the city.

"Sam told me that the werewolves are back," Josh sounded nervous.

"Honestly," She put a hand forward, "You don't need to be worried about them – "

"I'm not?" He stopped her, "Well – no. I am terrified of getting bit, and all that, but also, like..."

Glance around.

"Everyone has all these super negative opinions and talk as if they're genuinely animals, but Sam is like, a normal person?"

"Werewolves are normal people," MJ sipped one of the drinks they'd ordered mid-chat, "And if you get bit, I'll heal you so. No need to be worried."

"Josh!" Davina's voice.

Both turned to look at her, alongside a slew of other vampires openly eyeing her up.

"Don't even think about it," MJ addressed them, motioning for her to sit, "She's a kid."

She planted herself firmly next to MJ.

"Davina!" Josh shook his head, "What are you doing out here?"

"I wanted to see you," She scooted closer to MJ's hand.

She'd been at witch training a lot recently, which meant she was in the Cemetry while MJ was working, and it always seemed to end with Davina wanting to quit. To the point where MJ almost wanted to ban her from attending since it was clearly just bringing her pain.

That suggestion hadn't gone down well, as Davina had started panicking. She didn't want the spirits any madder at her.

"I would have met you anywhere you wanted."

A pause.

"I mean, not anywhere Klaus or Marcel would be, which could be pretty much, you know, everywhere. But, you know what I mean," Josh clocked Davina's sad demeanour, "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah – yeah..."

"Davina," MJ rubbed her arm, "What's up?"

"It's...It's Monique," She cracked, "She has no idea what I went through when I was dead."

MJ had managed to get her to open up about it, which was a step in the right direction, but until Davina actually started practising, there was going to be a problem.

"The ancestors hated me for what I did with my magic. I can't just start practising again."

But she had to if she wanted to work through her guilt about everything.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted Marcel when he told me to go back," Davina squeezed her hands together, "I don't know how much more of it I can take."

"If you want me to help you get into it again..." MJ reminded her.

"I can't," Davina's face broke a little, "I can't just use magic."

"Then don't think of it as 'using.' Think of it as embracing. Practising."

"Yeah," Josh tried for a smile, "Magic can do pretty cool things – and if your friend's being mean about it, proving her wrong seems like the best thing to do, right?"

"I can't!"

"Listen, D," MJ took her hand, "We're gonna be with you every step of the way."

"Exactly," Josh nodded, "We have your back; no matter how bitchy your little witch 'buddies' get, we know how great you are, and we're so much cooler than them anyway."

"Yeah, who needs Monique's approval when you got us," MJ and Josh clicked their drinks together, "We're great."

That managed to make her smile.

Sadly, MJ had to leave the pair. Taking the pictures was only half the job; editing and emailing them in was the other – plus a few other tasks that she needed a laptop for. Plus, she trusted Josh to cheer Davina up.

Her apartment was still pretty well-organised, even if some of her paint supplies and spell writing attempts were starting to pile up. Davina had left her own things across the coffee table and sofa, jumpers and shoes acting as reminders that the place was becoming a happy home.

She got to work, completing her final task and flipping her music off, just as there was a knock at the door.

An invitation was waiting for her, Elijah's handwriting.

There was going to be a second faction meeting at The Compound; nice clothes required.

MJ called Hayley while closing the door.

"Just checking you got one of Elijah's invites?"

"I did," Hayley sounded proud of herself, "You'll be there, right?"

"Definitely. You know I love getting dressed up."

"...Can I ask you a question, and you promise never to mention it ever again?"

"Sure?"

"What should I wear?"

MJ smiled to herself while opening her own closet.

"MJ?"

"Just enjoying the moment."

"Shut up!" Hayley huffed, "I just wanna make sure I'm not too much or too little."

"There's no such thing as too much in my opinion – "

"But – "

"Yeah, yeah," MJ waved her hand while looking through her things, "It's not a princess evening. More cocktail dresses and business casual."

"The guys?"

"Make sure the wolves have nice jackets. They can be loose ones and over thin jumpers, but that's what'll make them look nice – and make sure their shoes are good. Shoe's matter. Shoes and jackets."

Hayley laughed.

"They do! They create character."

"Sure."

"Sorry, but you hold yourself differently when you're in heels versus to trainers. They matter," MJ rambled, "I could give you a whole speech about the science behind it, physical and brain stuff – "

God, she missed talking fashion.

"But I won't."

"Oh," Hayley grinned, "I'd love to see some of them in heels."

MJ's turn to laugh, "With guys, smart shoes act the same way, just less painful."

"I guess you have a point."

"I definitely have a point if you wanna keep the dog jokes to a minimum."

"Doesn't it piss you off?" Hayley's demeanour shifted, "Why should we have to do all the work?"

"Look at history," MJ pulled out a dress and lay it on the bed, "Think about how much effort it takes to truly break down barriers in the human world and how they're still not broken down completely."

Racism, sexism, homophobia as the easiest examples.

"It's about taking steps."

"But that's not real progress."

"If you aren't willing to take steps, you'll never make progress."

"Interesting statement," Marcel spoke from her balcony.

Silence.

"...MJ?" Hayley heard exactly who's spoken.

"I'll see you later," She hung up