This is mostly AU. Klaus left MF with Rebekah once he was Unlinked in 3x21, and the Originals scattered. Klaroline was never a thing (I'm sorry I just can't stand what that relationship did to both characters). Bonnie stayed back however, and lived through all the Alaric and Silas stuff and put herself in a year long coma after performing the spell to bring Jeremy back from the dead. I'll be doing a few flashbacks etc to show the AU version of Bonnie and Klaus' MF interactions.

I wanna thank my amazing betas Shakarean and Alia for their tireless help, for listening to my endless plot changes and headcanons, and for reading (and re-reading!) multiple drafts. Also, thank u Annie, queen of titles, for helping me come up with one. And massive shout-out to Nisha for the gorgeous graphic and for being my TVD consultant. Jazzywazzy: thanks for the writer chats and for letting me rant about Julie Plec in your inbox.

Finally, thank you to the Bonnie fandom for being such an undefeatable force of creativity and passion. I hope my fic contributes to that legacy in a small way. xoxoxox

"Darkling, I listen; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful Death,

Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

To take into the air my quiet breath"

- John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale

"Like I told Jacques, two more weeks." Bonnie kept her voice low, mindful of the paper thin walls of the break room. She only had a few more minutes before one of the other girls came in for their break.

The vampire on the other end of the line also lowered his voice, though his purpose was menace rather than discretion, "Jakey isn't doing business anymore. I am."

A slow unease crept over her. "What happened to Jacques?"

"Don't worry your pretty lil' head darlin'. Just get me two pints by Friday."

"That's not gonna happen. I told you I need-,"

"Make it happen. You don't want me to become persuasive."

Bonnie pressed END as soon as the door swung open. Loretta, a tall busty red-head with a bad smoking habit, gave her a suspicious once over. "Break's over hun. Get your ass out there."

"Be right there," Bonnie checked her reflection in the mirror, willing the angry lines on her temple to subside and smoothing down her hair. Since she'd left Mystic Falls three months ago she'd been wrapping her hair herself so it framed her face in soft waves. The style helped downplay the gauntness of her features from regular blood-loss, and disguised the flashes of emotion in her vivid green eyes and mutinous lips.

She checked her phone one last time. Two missed calls from Jeremy. She pushed it to the back of her mind, though not without a stab of guilt.

Loretta watched her pop two iron pills in her mouth with a curious look on her face. "You anemic or something?"

"Yea. Something like that."

She brushed past Loretta and returned to the floor. The small dingy bar was full of its usual Friday night crowd. A local classic-rock act was stomping all over the stage and the black floors were already slick with spilled drinks no one had time to clean up. She walked behind the bar and started cleaning off the taps, moving dirty glasses into the sink. A few drunken patrons leered openly at her but after two months of working at the Red Raven she was no longer shocked. There was a reason the owner, Eric, made his waitresses wear tight black shorts and clingy white-t-shirts that left nothing to the imagination.

The back of her neck tingled, and her magic hummed a quiet warning in her ears. She was being watched. Unconsciously, her fingers brushed the necklace of silver-encased vervain at her throat. She turned, wiping off the counter and casting furtive glances around the room. But apart from the usual leers and stares, there was nothing suspicious.

And yet, she felt it again. That nagging prickle along the base of her scalp.

Someone was watching her with purpose, and she intended to find out who.

Klaus remembered the taste of her blood.

It was brief, a tantalizing drop trickled off her upper lip after she'd performed the Unlinking spell for him some three years ago.

Still, the taste of a witch like Bonnie Bennett was not easily forgotten.

He watched her wiping glasses and filling drinks behind the bar, swimming in a veritable soup of ogling customers.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

He knew she could sense him, but he wasn't ready to reveal himself yet. Closing his eyes, he conjured the memory of her blood, sweet as a lemondrop on his tongue.

Klaus returned to watching her handle her duties with a mechanical ease while her mind was clearly elsewhere. The miniscule shorts sat well on her rounded rump, and the white -top outlined her breasts and tapered waist. He couldn't blame the drunken louts devouring her with their eyes. But unlike the older, more experienced servers, there was stiffness in her spine, and her slim shoulders were slightly hunched like a turtle poised to retreat into a shell.

"I'm bored," Rebekah sighed, "And it smells like piss. Why are we here again?"

His fingers toyed with the empty liquor glass, "Tell me Bekah, what do you remember about our time in Paris?

She rolled her eyes, "Well before you killed my lover, we lived like kings, did whatever we wanted," then something almost wistful came into her voice, "It felt like the world was ours for the taking."

"And how would you like to live that way again?" he directed her eyes over to Bonnie Bennett, who was balancing a heavy tray of drinks over to a group of young men in sports jerseys. Klaus noted her tenseness, masked in a tight, compact kind of grace. She looked as out of place as an edelweiss flower in a swamp.

The scroll was clear about the terms of the Sacrifice. And the moment he saw those words - pure, fire, heart - he thought instantly of a fiery field, a young witch slender as a willow tree in a storm, that drop of sharp-sweetness dissolving in his mouth.

"And the Bennett witch is our ticket to former glory?" Rebekah sounded skeptical, but he ignored that. The years since they'd left Mystic Falls had been largely fruitless. Until now.

"Glory, power, unchecked indulgence in whatever we desire. Bonnie Bennett is the world, and all we have to do," Klaus kept his eyes on Bonnie's petite form, "is take her."

One of the men Bonnie was serving, a long-faced fellow in a green plaid button-down, made a great show of ogling and trying to grab a handful of her ass. She wove between his grasping hands, tight smile in place while setting beer mugs down twice the size of her forearm. When she jerked her hips to avoid plaid-shirt's hand, some of the drinks sloshed onto her shirt.

"Shit," Bonnie tried to take a step, still balancing the tray. Klaus saw the next few seconds before they happened, and seized the opportunity.

As Bonnie lost her footing, free-hand shooting out, green-shirt grabbed her hip, trying to pull her into his lap. Klaus intervened, grasped her splayed fingers and tugged. She tumbled against his chest, steadied by his other arm that swiftly circled her waist.

Bonnie had the strange sensation of being pulled against a brick-wall smelling of expensive aftershave. A strong arm encircled her. She glanced up at when he spoke, blinking in disbelief.

"Hello, love."

Slim brows crashed into a frown as she realized who he was and she stumbled out of his grip.

"What the hell are you doing here?'

Green-shirt tried to stand, "Hey asshole she was still serving my drink-," caught off guard when Klaus pressed a hand to his chest.

Klaus smiled into the man's eyes until the pupils dilated

The man slouched off to the confused protests of his friends.

Bonnie whirled on him, "What did you do to him?"

"I wouldn't let it bother you, love."

Klaus smirked and pocketed his hands, recalling the last time he'd said those words to her. Her frown looked exactly the same. He could almost hear her next words, instead Bonnie doubled back towards the bar with him on her heels. Picking up the bar-phone, she asked the bouncer to check on green-shirt dude. Deep inside though she was relieved; that guy showed up every week and never left without copping an unwanted feel. She hung up and turned around to face Klaus.

"I see you finally quit that insipid little town, ."

Crossing her arms, she sized up the Original in front of her. Wearing a loose grey shirt and slim jeans, with one of his strange beaded necklaces exposed by the v-neck, he radiated a debonair carelessness that, she knew from experience, was only a facade for the ruthless power underneath . The scent of his aftershave still lingered about in her nostrils from when she'd been pressed against his chest.

"What do you want, Klaus?" She tried her best to sound cool and intimidating, though she was certain her heartbeat gave her away. If he decided to pull something in this bar she would literally be powerless to stop him.

Full lips twitched in a smile, "You're in a bar, I'm a devastatingly handsome bloke, if you do the math-"

She narrowed her eyes, "I'm working, I don't have time for your games."

To her annoyance, the blond vampire eased himself onto a barstool and slid a twenty dollar bill across the table, "One whiskey sour please. Keep the change"

She mixed the drink and placed it in front of him, along with exact change."Anything else?"

"Yes. It seems I'm in need of some witchy help and you were at the top of my list."

"You're kidding. Right?" she gave a short, sharp laugh.

He picked up the glass, ignoring the money and eyeing her over the rim.

"I will of course also provide your meals, your clothing, your transport for however long it takes while we work together," Klaus went on, smooth as if they were negotiating a corporate salary package.

"So I can be your hired witch?" she snorted, "No thanks. Now leave me alone."

A flash of anger ruffled his boyish features.

Rounding the bar, she tried to brush past him but his hand reached out, long fingers easily encircling her slender arm. The thinness gave him pause; he'd always noticed her being a wispy little thing but now her bones felt fragile as matchsticks in his hand.

"Better the devil you know," he whispered, close enough his breath tickled her ear, "and you know I keep my promises to you."

While she glanced around to make sure her supervisor wasn't watching, Klaus continued in a low voice, "I know about your situation, love. I know you got in over your pretty head trying to save the Gilbert boy," his warm, rough hand slid down her arm, "I know it put you in a coma for almost a year. I know about Silas murdering your father. And I know you're here because you don't have a cent to your name."

Bonnie forced herself to stay composed, to not let his deep modulant voice pull her strings. This was a game to him, her deepest sorrows and fears were pawns for his strategy. He'd been the same in Mystic Falls, trying to worm his way into her head so he could use her without Compulsion.

"Help me, and I'll ensure you never have to work again. You can buy Mystic Falls for a playground if you wish," he paused, breathing the scent of shampoo and coconut-oil in her hair, "And get your father a decent headstone."

Bonnie jerked her arm away, and Klaus had flash of deja vu. They were in the parlor of his mansion at Mystic Falls, and young Bonnie Bennett with her loose, girlish hair and doe-eyes looked him in the face and said simply "You bother me." Then as now, he needed to force her righteous little hand. She faced him calmly though he he could see the glint of unshed tears in her eyes.

"No," she said, "I'm done with magic and vampires. Just, please, leave me alone." It was not entirely a lie. Her magic was drastically weakened after the coma. She could barely manage the simplest spells. But witch's blood was apparently a hot commodity in New Orleans so she'd been selling hers for some much-needed extra-cash.

Klaus angled his head, trying to put his finger on what was different about her. He remembered the first time he saw her, the sunlight bouncing off her fresh, young radiance. Now she was all haunted eyes and a demeanor brittle as glass. The change irritated him, stirred an anger that had no target.

Still, she was the key to his plan. And he held all the cards.

Hopping off the stool, he flashed a brilliant smile, "Well it was lovely catching up. My offer remains open," he picked up her hand and gave it a casual kiss, "keep the change, pet."

The prickly feeling on her neck stopped, which meant Klaus had probably left.

For the rest of the night, Bonnie went through her duties in a daze. Klaus was here, in New Orleans of all places! And he needed her help, would even pay her exorbitantly for it. She thought of her hard-won tips and meagre paychecks, the precious bags of her blood sold to vampires; three months of both and she was still up to her ears in debt. Working for Klaus could take care of everything in a single cheque.

It wasn't fair.

Klaus was dangerous, far more powerful than he should be, and unpredictable.

And yet...She remembered being led out of his manor after the Unlinking spell, his hand on the small of her back guiding her away from Damon's tortured cries. His words of goodbye before seeing her out the door. A kiss to her prone hand, those cool blue eyes glinting at her. "Take care, little dove."

She'd been too flustered and overwhelmed to respond. It was only later, exhausted and numb, that anger at muttered questions in her head. How dare he? How dare he come into her life, take what he needed, and just leave? She couldn't decide what she was angrier about: that Klaus had got what he wanted and skipped town with no consequences, or that she was left behind to an increasingly claustrophobic life.

She wondered what it was about him that seduced witches like Greta into complete submission. How fast did it descend from innocent hand-kissing and gallant offers to utter surrender? Remembering his smooth, sonorous voice, his breath ghosting her ear, she shivered. There'd always been something different about the way Klaus looked at her. Other vampires regarded her with hate, grudging respect or suspicion; Klaus looked at her like he was privy to all her secrets, even the ones she didn't suspect about herself yet.

Bonnie glanced at the clock. Her shift was done. Since she wasn't closing, she gathered her purse and backpack and, after a brief deliberation, pocketed the hefty tip Klaus had left her.

Joy Hopkinson was nervous as she followed her girlfriend, Amber, down the muddy slope to the riverbank. The trees were all sweaty with recent rain, the river flowing full and strong.

"Just a little further," Amber shouted, swatting mosquitoes off her face.

"Why can't we drink in the car?" she shot back.

"Stop being such a wuss, we're vampires. Besides, the river's beautiful at night."

"Marcel said no one's supposed to leave Quarter until they find Jacques," Joy pointed out, stepping carefully around the muddy tangled undergrowth.

Amber laughed, "Marcel's just being Marcel. All this talk about a war coming - ,"

They'd reached the river bank. Moonlight swirled in the eddies of water, glistened silver on the bare flesh of river stones.

Joy took her by the hand, squeezed it tight, "What if Marcel is right? What if whoever kidnapped Jacques and killed those girls really is gonna declare war on the quarter?"

Amber sighed and put down the brown paper bag containing their beer. She nuzzled Joy's hand against her cheek, "Jacques is probably buried in a trashy sorority girl somewhere and that's why Marcel hasn't heard from him. Not because some demon took him."

Joy sighed. She didn't like being the worrywart, but it was her nature. "What about that dead body the police fished out of the river? The one with its head cut off? Marcel said even werewolves don't usually behead people."

"So bad things are happening around us," Amber stroked her cheek, "what else is new? At least we're not those helpless girls we used to be."

She silenced Joy's protest with a soft, slow kiss until at last Joy gave in and wrapped herself around Amber's body. Unable to resist, she used her fangs to pierce Amber's lips. For a few moments it was only them and the throbbing quietness of the bayou, blood mingling on their hungry mouths.

When they broke apart, Joy smiled and leaned their foreheads together, "You're such a bad influence."

"The baddest."

They both took swigs from the liquor bottle they'd stolen. It burned hot as blood down Joy's throat.

Amber draped an arm over her shoulder "See, I told you it was worth it."

But Joy wasn't listening, she was staring at some gnarled tree roots half buried in the water some distance away. A strange, pale log floated there, resisting the current.

"What the hell is that?"

Joy stepped around Amber and squinted. The log was unnaturally still and fish-belly white. Then suddenly, it vanished into the dark water.

All her previous uneasiness returned to grip Joy. "Amber, I think we should-,"

There was a splash and a pale, twisted figure burst from the water at their feet. Joy saw lidless black eyes and a long, black tongue. Icy, paralyzing fear filled her veins.

Somewhere a heron screamed, shattering the moon's silence.