There's a girl sitting on the hood of a black, beaten Mustang. She has long, beautiful legs and light-blonde hair. Enzo can't exactly see her face, but he could bet it's Rebekah Mikaelson, the sister of the so-called "king" of street-racing.
But the king himself? He's not around, not that Enzo actually knows how he looks. There wasn't anything specific in the files he was given and it's not like he could just google the guy. He had to be smart about this.
Hence the specially modified car, the street background and a prepared background. If he's to take down one of the most notorious gangs in the entire England, there's no halfways here. He's not going to be like the agent who got there before him - he's not going to quit under the pressure and flee the country in an effort to keep at least a little bit of his honor. If there's one thing about Enzo is that he never gives up.
Which is why he leaves his Skyline, the car he's learned to love over the years it's been with him to the point where he couldn't start the mission without it, and walks to the direction of the girl. He's not in a rush - he's got all but time, and he wants to watch her a bit before actually walking over there and introducing himself. Because she doesn't look like a bad person - in fact, she looks so out of place here, he almost wants to take her far away from the busy streets of London.
There's a smile on her face, but one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, as she's talking to someone who's not really visible behind all those people. She's nursing a bottle of beer and Enzo quietly hopes she won't be driving tonight. But he hopes there won't be much driving, or racing, for that matter, tonight. Not when he challenges her brother for a race.
But he has to find him first, and Rebekah Mikaelson seems to be a crucial element in doing so.
So he walks over to the car, thinking about the right way to start a conversation. He doesn't want her to think he's hitting on her (because there's no way to predict how she'll react) but a straight forward question is not a great idea. So he decides to play dumb instead, to pretend he has no idea who she is. He tries to look as confident as he can in his new when he finally opens his mouth.
"Nice car," he says, eyeing the black Mustang. It's actually a really nice ride, kind of beaten up and old, but still good looking - and the wonders that it probably has inside, he can only begin to imagine.
Rebekah stops the conversation she was having with an other girl, probably close to her age, and raises both of her eyebrows at the stranger. He can see she's trying to figure out if he's one of her brothers minions or just a random man who found himself in the right place at the right time.
"Not mine, actually," she answers casually. She takes a sip of her beer and watches him for a minute, like she's waiting for an answer, an explenation, maybe. When it doesn't come, she shifts to sit more comfortablly, and takes over the conversation. "I haven't seen you around," she states. There's something behind her voice, not exactly curiosity, but something more, something he can't really put a finger on.
"That's because it's my first time in London," he answers, smoothly coming into his character, "I'm from Manchester. But the races there got rather boring when the police arrested half of the actual racers last month. Surely you've heard about that?" the last sentence is a question, and he watches the blonde as she nodds her head.
"So you're racing, too? Or is it an overinterpretation?" she sounds really curious, and it makes Enzo even more confident.
"No, you're correct," he smiles at her with his white teeth. She does look more convinced now, even slightly less uncomfortable. She takes a sip of her beer as he tries to think about something to continue the conversation and put it on the right (for him) track. "Forgive for being rude, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Enzo. Enzo Augustine."
She does look suprised by the name, yet extends her hand. He shakes it, realising how fragile she is. "Rebekah Mikaelson," she informs him. He can tell she's curious about his reaction.
"Oh," he says, trying to show as much suprise as he can without overdoing it, "so you're the king's sister."
She rolls her eyes. "I hate when people call him that. But yes, Niklaus is my brother."
She looks down, as if she expect he'll definitely try something on her now. He can only imagine how people treat her like because of who he is - how they use her to get to her brother. And there's not doubt she's tougher than she looks, but there's also that sadness inside of her that manifests just about now, in front of him. So he decides not to try the obvious.
"I hope you don't mind me asking," he says, carefully choosing his words, "but you don't look like a street racer to me. Am I correct in my assumptions?"
She looks up, a sign of suprise on her face, but also a small smile - this one is definitely not fake (or maybe she's just a great actress). "No, you're quite right," she answers without unnescessary babbling. "I mean, I sure as hell can drive and I can race just fine, but I'm not as fond of it as my siblings."
He's even more curious when he hears her using plural form, but decides not to dwell on it. Before he has a chance to think of something to say, she taps a spot next to her on the hood. He slowly moves there and sits next to her, but with the much needed distance. She doesn't look at him when she starts talking again.
"It was really in my blood to race, at least that's what everyone told me. But I'm not really feeling it, not anymore."
He wants to ask her about that anymore and catches himself actually investing in her life story - like, she was just supposed to be his way in, but turns out to be an actual person with feelings he respects. That's not how he imagined her - her file, that contained only basic information, showed her as a bitch who stood behind her brother and was ready to go down with him even if he asked her not to. She wasn't arrested once, but she was questioned two or three times - and never said anything to the police, not a single word.
When she finally raises her head, is to look at someone in the crowd. She raises her hand and waves, looking impatiently in the distance. Enzo doesn't dare to ask who she just saw, correctly assuming she will tell him herself.
And she does. "Klaus' coming here," she informs him. "So if you want to race tonight, you're gonna have to settle it with him."
"All right then," he nodds, wondering if she will say something more.
"If you're lucky, Marcel is around here somewhere. He's the guy to talk to if you want to set a race for tonight."
Enzo swallows all of his insecurities. "What if I want to race your brother?" he asks.
Rebekah looks at him like he's joking, but her face changes after she realises how serious he is. "Well," she starts slowly, "in that case, you're bloody insane."
She hops off the care and he does so as well - it's not in his plans to piss of the great Klaus Mikaelson before he has a chance to say one word to him. He wonders if Rebekah will leave him to deal with Klaus, and wonders if she realises he has no idea how her brother looks, but suddenly, a crowd moves and a man walks over to stand in front of the blonde.
And if that's Klaus, that's a big suprise for Enzo. Becuase he's not at all what he imagined. Instead of a tall, muscular, possibly bald and tattooed man, there's a regular guy standing just a few feet away. He's not particulary tall or muscular, he has short, blonde hair and is wearing a black henley. There is, however, something in his eyes that tell Enzo he's dealing with someone slightly more dangerous than a regular man in his late twenties.
"I thought I told you to go home, Bekah," the man, or Klaus, says. There is something similar about him and the girl that tells Enzo they're related - it's in the way they carry themselves, and they're hiding something dark deep within their souls.
(And the eyes. They have almost identical eyes.)
"And I thought I told you I'm an adult, and I can do whatever I want," Rebekah bites back, ignoring her previous companion. She seems to remeber him after a second, though, because she suddenly looks slightly less pissed. "But don't be rude, brother, we do have a guest here tonight. He came here all the way from Manchester."
There's something dark in Klaus' eyes for a second, but it disappears so quickly Enzo almost believes it's his mind playing him tricks. And then the king himself turns around to face him, a dangerous smirk already appearing on his lips.
"And who you might be?" Klaus asks him. There's something guarded about him.
Enzo generally feels like these people are recovering from something. He wonders what it is - it's not like there was anything about them suffering some trauma in his files. But then again, those files aren't really complete.
Klaus clears his throat and Enzo realises he was supposed to answer the question. "Enzo Augustine," he says, trying to sound as relaxed and confident as his cover would.
The other man raises one eyebrow. "Augustine? It's an interesting family name. Is it local?" it feels a lot more like an interrogation than an actual conversation, but Enzo decides not to point that out.
"No, actually, it's spanish. My grandfather was a spanish immigrant. He moved to England in the sixties. But I only lived in Manchester my entire life, came to London recently."
He hopes that cuts it, but Klaus digs deeper. "And why is that?" he asks, not even trying to be kind. Rebekah hisses something to her brother, but Enzo doesn't hear it.
"I want to race. As we had a little trouble with the police last month in Manchester, there's not much racing for me there."
It does sound like a perfectly normal explenation, but judging by Klaus' guarded expression, it's still not enough for him. He eyes Enzo for a few seconds, minutes maybe, to the point when he starts feeling really uncomfortable, when he suddenly breaks into a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes, but it doesn't seem all that fake either.
"Apologies for this little interrogation," he finally says, taking a step closer. "But I am very guarded. We had a little... let's say, situation, a few months back, so I'm not exactly running around trusting people. But I am willing to give you a shot."
He pats him on the shoulder following Rebekah's gaze, and asks with a what seems like a sympathetic tone: "So, you want to race? How about we set you up for something? An easy opponent, perhaps, so that you can start from the beginning and get to the top in no time."
Enzo swallows. "Actually," he says, perfectly content, "I'd rather race you."
There's a whisper of shock around, the crowd looking at them with both amusement and pity. Enzo starts wondering, for what feels like a hundreth time, what did he get himself into.
And then there's that self-satisfied smirk on Klaus' face. "Starting from the top, yeah? Well then, don't let me stop you."
Rebekah looks at her brother, but Enzo can't really read her face. But Klaus seems to be doing so perfectly. "You want to race, mate? Let's race."
Rebekah is actually pretty impressed with the guy as she pulls over at the driveway of their family house. The lights in Klaus' art studio are on which means he's already home, most probably painting to get over his anger. It's a common thing these days - but after everything that happened, Rebekah prefers him painting than screaming, drinking and destroying cars.
She can call the night a success - she did meet someone who is surely eye-candy, and she spent the last two hours on having scandalous sex in Matt Donovan's car. She's thankful Matt is not a know aquintance of her brother's, because she still remembers what happened when she and Stefan began... something, and it still stings. She's over that feelings now, it's been over a year, but there's still something terrible about the way things went down between the two of them and her older, overprotective brother.
And then there was this whole fuss with-
But it's better not to dwell on the past, she decides, as she locks her car and heads for the entrance. She doesn't bother with being quiet - it's not like Klaus can hear her anyway, and even if he can, he still knows she was out, so there's no need in pretending she spent a nice evening in.
She heads to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of cold water. There are leftovers from yesterday's dinner and she takes them, sitting by the counter to eat something and think a little. Because she would never, in a million years, expect a newbie from Manchester to almost win with her brother in today's race.
It was a suprise to almost everyone, really, when Enzo crossed the line only two seconds after her brother did - he would win the race altogether, hasn't it been for Nik's recent developments in his favoruite Mustang. And it makes Rebekah a little bit worried - because Nik is not the one to just let it go. And seeing as this Enzo guy has no intention to leave anytime soon - Klaus already had Marcel dig into him by one of his contacts in the police and found out he wasn't lying and that he rented an apartment downtown - Rebekah is kind of scared about what's going to happen.
She's just finishing up her leftover pasta when she hears the door being unlocked. She checks the clock and wonders who on earth might be visiting at 2:34 in the morning. Except from her and Klaus, there are no other Mikaelsons in London at the moment (except maybe Finn - it's not like she keeps on his scheldue, but it's not like he would be ever coming back to the house). It's disturbing really, so as soon as she hears the sound of footsteps in the hall, she catches the first thing that's within her arm range - it's a small but really heavy head of some philosopher made from stone - and decides to meet the visitor in the hall.
In a few quick movements, she jumps out of the kitchen and almost drops the head when she realises she's standing face to face with her older brother.
"Ah," she squeels and takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Is not as if she was expecting him in London at all - the last time they spoke he was somewhere in Europe, having fun with his french lover, Celeste. "Elijah" she almost yells after a few seconds, "what the bloody hell are you doing here sneaking up on me at three in the morning?"
"The better question is, sister," he sounds kind of amused and Rebekah wants to punch him in the face right this minute, "why were you trying to attack me with poor's Socrates' head?"
"Oh, so that's who he is," she attempts on a joke, and Elijah almost rolls his eyes at her - and he never does that.
Elijah is generally not the fun brother, which is why it's really interesting what's he's doing in London at three in the morning. He's wearing one of his perfectly trailored suits, is freshly shaved and doesn't look the tiniest bit tired. Rebekah's envious of him, really - she herself doesn't look presentable at all, her hair still all kinds of messy (the attempts to brush them made them look even worse), with her make-up slightly smuged and her shirt lacking a button because she and Matt got carried away at some point.
But Elijah doesn't seem to notice any of that, which, itself, is weird. He always notices things like that and gives her at least a disapproving glance. He's also like the most caring person she knows without being very very overprotective. She likes to think he would make a great dad one day. And he could teach his child how to race and repair cars, since that's almost all he's into.
(And foreing women.)
"So, what are you doing here?" Rebekah asks again, running a hand through her hair. She puts Socrates on the dresser in the hall, and, seeing Elijah's serious expression, leads her brother to the kitchen, where the rest of her leftover dinner is still on the counter.
"Is Niklaus home?" Elijah asks instead of giving her an answer. "Because his car is not on the driveway."
Rebekah realises that he is, in fact, correct. "To be honest, I don't know. But if he is home, I do believe he's painting."
They both know it's a code for: we won't be seeing him for at least a few hours.
"Good. I need to speak with you, and our brother cannot find out about what I'm going to tell you."
Rebekah doesn't like keeping secrets from Klaus - but she knows she has to. She knows it by the way Elijah looks at her seriously. So she nodds, waiting for him to continue. And continue he does.
"It's about Caroline."