The Gate

Chapter Six: Kidnapee, Kidnaper.

   I sit in my corner booth, eyes flickering between the bar where Bonnie is and the door my contact said he'd use. I don't have much on this guy, but I do know for a fact that his presence should make the whole encounter just the right amount of personal for my mark. I don't, however, appreciate the amount of loose variables in this little scheme. Luckily the story is still flexible enough to be changed, if necessary.

The chime of a bell pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn back to the door. In walks a tall, dark haired man in professional attire. Looks expensive. He glances around the room before continuing towards the bar, taking his seat next to Bonnie. It's go time.

As I make my way towards the back pantry, I hear him order some fruity little drink. His voice is smooth, telling. And maybe a little jazzy, but not in the low way. It's easy enough to gather his general personality just by the sound of his accent. Though, something tells me there's more to it than that. After all, he's here of all places, isn't he?

   "So, what's a pretty young girl such as yourself doing in a place like this?" Okay, so not the most original, but I'll give him a solid eight purely based on delivery. Surely any girl would swoon over an accent like that. Bonnie sighs and tilts her head.

   "I, my friend, am currently drowning my sorrows." She looks at him and then back to the half empty glass of 'soda' she's been sipping at for the last half hour. "See, this 'pretty young girl' just got herself dumped." Well played, Bon-Bon. Never pegged you for the acting type. He gasps in exaggerated surprise.

   "Now, why on earth would anyone dump someone as beautiful as you?" She half snorts.

   "Oh, I don't know, why don't you ask him yourself? Maybe he'll even give you the real reason." She stares back into her cup. I suppose it's not very hard to act dazed and confused when that's all you've been lately. And maybe a little disappointed, too.

"Well, regardless of his reasoning, the poor boy must have some sort of brain injury. Wouldn't you agree?" Eh, maybe a seven. He's a bit too charming. And he knows it, too, which makes it worse. But she laughs along anyway, faking amusement.

"I'm afraid my drink is still a bit too full for me to be flirting with strangers so early in the day. Maybe give me five minutes." She winks. Laying it on a bit thick there, Bon, but still, I'm impressed. The man simply grins.

"Well, then, I say we order another to go. Shall we?" Damn, he's fast. And forward. If I still had my drink I'd probably choke. A slight look of panic and nerves passes over Bonnie's face, but she manages to recover quickly as she throws him another smile.

"You know what? Sure. I suppose we shall." There it is. The point of no return. Luck be with you, Bonnie. I make my way to the back exit, hearing the bell chime once again as he and Bonnie leave the grill. The cool afternoon air hits my face and I search the alley for a certain matte black sports car. I spot the slight glint of a tinted windshield to my left and decide to head over. I wait leaning against the car, checking my phone for any possible updates from either of them. I am disappointed with a few missed calls from Damon, probably complaining that I blew him off last night. Excuse me, but I was a bit too busy uncovering your years' worth of lies to meet up for a drink.

   My waiting is interrupted by the arrival of a certain ancient vampire, and slung over his shoulder is none other than the Good Witch. He looks exhausted.

   "I wasn't sure you'd actually show," I say with a smirk. "You seemed... Hesitant." He smirks right back.

   "As one tends to be when scheming against the most powerful vampire alive. The real wonder is how you're not hesitant yourself. I can hear your heartbeat, you know, what's a human like you doing cooking up such a scandal?" I laugh.

   "Don't you worry, I can more than handle myself."

   "Ah, well, if you say so." He places Bonnie on her feet, keeping one arm under her arms to hold her up. I'd hoped he was going to drug her, the alternative was a possible concussion. "Mind helping me getting this little one in the trunk?" I nod.

   "Sure, but then I gotta go. Scheme's not completed yet." He squints at me.

   "What else is there?" I shrug.

   "Nothing you need to worry about." He looks skeptical, but walks to the back of the car anyways, practically dragging Bonnie along. I walk quickly in front of him, opening the trunk. It's not very roomy. Luckily Bonnie shouldn't be able to feel the crook in her neck when she wakes. He places her in the trunk sort of rough and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, staring at her sleeping form with a tilted head. He shakes his head a bit, and looks back at me.

   "It's a shame, really, that you can't stick around for the ride. I was hoping to learn more about you, mystery girl." So his accent is always smooth like that, not just when he's preying on drunk girls. "It's not every day you meet a human willing to withhold something from Klaus Mikaelson." I scoff.

   "Who ever said I was human?" He scoffs right back.

   "Well you're sure as hell not a witch, so what else is there?" I stare at him for a second, debating whether or not it's a good idea to give him my name. I suppose not, it'd be much harder to keep him aligned with the plan if he knew who I really was. I smirk at him again before I start to walk away, heading back inside.

   "Goodbye, Lucien."