deercountry | out of the fire, into the frying pan

"Your hair looks fine."

Stefan looks at her over his shoulder and smiles. It's not the widest smile he's ever given her but it's still genuine.

"Your hair is always fine."

Even with the blood and grit of the day, she's still beautiful.

"I can help you wash it when we get home, if you'd like."

"Let the man who barely knows how to style his own hair wash mine?"

She's seen the way he's brushed his hair—and sometimes chosen not to brush it—at times. Her hair requires a little more application than his, what with it being long and not being hero hair at all.

She cocks her brow, although it's not in judgement. She makes it a point to look him over. It's as playful as she's going to get while still inside of a stinky arena of monster blood.

"You'd have to convince me you have the hands for shampooing."

"You've let me touch your hair before. You've let me shampoo it before. What's different now?"

Besides the fact that they'd just tried to fight each other and obviously that hadn't gone well. He thinks they might need to talk about it but he also doesn't want to talk about it because he doesn't want her to be upset.

"I can't style your hair but I know how to put shampoo in the palm of my hand and wash your hair."

"You didn't put in enough last time."

What with all the hair she has, it's no wonder he didn't apply enough. Sometimes, Katherine thinks she goes through half a bottle with the way she lathers it.

She scrunches up her face, even if he can't see her from her place behind him. "I didn't have the heart to tell you. It was very dry after."

Her hair was fine after.

"Are you really critiquing my shampooing skills?"

From what he remembers, she hadn't had any complaints about his shampoo skills when she'd let him do it. He thinks she's just putting him on now, making it seem like he did a bad job so she can jibe him.

"Do you want me to just stand there and hold the bottle, then?"

He can make sure it doesn't fall on the floor while she does her own hair.

"Do you think you can control yourself enough to do that?"

With Katherine being an irresistible person, that would, no doubt, be very difficult on his end. No one would blame him for being unable to keep his hands to himself.

She stays behind him, hoping that the arena will act as a hotel lobby and let them leave. She's fought enough monsters to prove herself as an impressive fighter and deserving of returning home.

"You're the one who needs to control yourself. You have no patience."

That was not true. She's very, very patient and he knows it. But he says it anyways to try and lighten the mood and hopefully put what happened in the arena behind them.

"Besides, would you really be upset if I didn't control myself? You like that. You've said so."

"Did I?"

While Katherine may scrunch up her face, she knows that she has—and repeatedly. That doesn't mean she has to merely accept the truth and wear it. She does want Stefan to stop being so stuck inside of his head.

"I clearly didn't mean it with shampooing. My hair is very delicate."

"Oh well, my mistake. I'll never touch your hair again."

Stefan's pretty sure that's not what she met and he exaggerates and goes over the limit on purpose. He even smirks a bit but he doesn't look back to direct that at her.

"I wouldn't want to accidentally pull some out and ruin your whole look."

That would be absolutely awful, wouldn't it?

"I could rock being bald."

Not that she ever wants to. Katherine likes her hair. Her hair is the one thing that Klaus couldn't take away from her. Even though it's changed over the centuries, it's still her—it's all Katerina has.

And she knows Stefan knows that.

Besides, if he wants to keep his head of hero hair, he knows better than to even think about pretending to rip her hair out.

"I have the face shape for it."

"You could but you won't."

He knows that she likes her hair far, far too much to cut it or let it fall out. There's no way she will rock being bald even if she could. It's just not going to happen. He flicks a look back at her and shakes his head.

"You like your hair too much. You're vain. And don't get all mad that I said that. You know you are."

"People say someone's vain like it's something someone should be embarrassed about."

It's often used as an insult towards her. She's been called it many times as something derisive, but she knows Stefan doesn't mean it that way. Katherine likes the way she physically presents herself. While she may not have control over her face and who is identical to her, she can control how she looks.

"What's wrong with being confident? We could all use a little bit more of it, don't you think?"

"I didn't say vain like it was something you should be embarrassed about. It's a fact and that's all it is."

He shrugs a shoulder and tucks his hands into his pockets. He thinks he's been with her long enough to know that she's vain and to be fine with it.

"You don't think I know what you're like now? I do. You're allowed to be confident. There's nothing wrong with that."

And proud. Katherine hasn't had much to be proud of over the last five hundred years, but she's found what she can take some pride in. Her appearance, her shoe collection, and now apparently the life that she has built in Deerington.

Or Deer Country. Whatever place they happen to be in with a deer influence.

She still stays behind him even when they're able to exit the arena. Apparently, killing enough monsters grants on an exit pass—or maybe it's merely the fact that Katherine's thrown monsters three times her size across the dome as if they're made of feathers.

She does take a few steps closer to Stefan and pinches the back of his shirt. "You had dirt."

And some monster guts. Really gross.

Stefan stops when she grabs at the back of his shirt and then even waits to see if she's going to walk next to him. He looks back at her almost expectantly.

"Are you gonna keep walking behind me so you can clean up any dirt or are you going to walk beside me now?"

He wishes she could come up closer to him so he could see her but he knows he can't force that.

She still has an unused quip about his ass.

While Katherine would much prefer to be behind him just in case the Trench is a little wilder and unfriendlier than Deerington, she knows that there's really no reason to be walking behind him anymore. No other reason than the fact that it's born out of a small slip of fear.

So, Katherine comes to stand beside him. "You didn't like me bringing up the rear?"

"I like you bringing up the rear just fine but I like being able to see you more."

He smiles when she finally comes up to stand with him and he starts to reach for her hand but stops and brushes his fingers against her wrist. He doesn't stop walking yet.

"Can I?"

He wouldn't normally ask but they'd just been fighting and he's worried.

It's very reminiscent of how he used to speak to her in 1864, all shy towards the delicate girl who was secretly a monster in disguise. She does enjoy a shy Stefan when the situation calls for it.

With no hesitancy, she wraps her fingers around his. Tilting her head up and looking away, Katherine very much looks like the girl who doesn't like public displays of affection.

"For once your hand isn't cold."

His hands have never been that cold unless it suits her story.

"My hands aren't ever cold."

That was just one of those vampire myths. Stefan shakes his head but he feels more comfortable with her hand in his and that's when he starts walking again, blowing out a slow breath.

After a minute, he asks, "Are you okay?"

Because no matter the facade she presents, he knows there's a lot more going on underneath.

"There's blood in my hair and on my favourite pair of pants."

Which means that he's going to have to do the laundry a few times over to make sure that monster blood is completely out of the threads. Katherine will happily do the ironing after.

Looking straight ahead, she does know that he won't accept that as an answer. She wouldn't.

"Did you really mean what you said? That you believe that I will bite you and drain you just to get ahead?"

"No."

He hadn't meant that. Not in that way. He pauses and looks ahead, squinting before he shakes his head.

"I think if you had to survive and it was between you and me, you'd choose you. That's not a bad thing, either. I'm not chastising you. I just think survival is very ingrained in you."

Hell, he'd want her to choose herself if that was a choice she had to make.

In the dictionary, under the word "survivor", there's a picture of Katherine Pierce. It's a word she knows is now synonymous with her. Sometimes, she's sure those around her are tired of hearing her describe herself as such, but it's something else Katherine owns. No one can take that away from her.

It's been difficult to try and find a middle ground between running and standing still. The latter's a lot harder than she had ever planned for.

She's quiet for a moment.

"And would that lead you to believe that I don't love you?"

"No."

He shakes his head at her and looks over. No, he knows she loves him even if she doesn't always say it out loud. She shows him in other ways. He squeezes her hand and sighs.

"I would hope there's never a situation that leads you to have to make that decision, honestly. Because though I think you would choose yourself, I think it would be difficult for you."

And he doesn't want her to have to live with that.

After spending so long having everyone pick themselves or everyone other than her, Katherine has learned very quickly over the centuries that she is the only person who will ever look out for her own backside. It's a lesson she thinks she was beginning to learn long before she had ever turned into a vampire.

She doesn't have a group of protectors like her doppelgänger. She's always only had herself.

But picking herself doesn't always have to relate to her only picking one person. Picking herself these days often includes a dog and a cat and twelve cars.

"You said it, back there." She stands up a little taller and ensures not to look at him because: "It hurt my feelings."

It's a big admission for Katerina Petrova.

"I...did?"

He pauses because he doesn't remember that. He's not doubting her though because he knows that he hadn't been thinking all that clearly awhile ago. His mind had been consumed with wanting to fight and he knows that he could have said something without thinking.

He frowns and shakes his head. He thinks he does remember what she's talking about now.

"Katherine, I know you love me. I don't want you to have to choose between yourself and me. I'm sorry. I can honestly say that I didn't mean that. I was just...talking."

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