Notes: Welcome to the final chapter! This was a birthday present for cupcakemolotv (who deserves more presents from me, tbh) and I lied to myself and said it was finished and then took years to actually finish, oops. My original idea was "Caroline working for Tristan because amnesia" but birthday presents need smut so it took awhile to get from point A to point B. There's another smut scene here (because birthday present!) it's the last section so feel free to skip. Thanks to everyone still reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Chapter Twelve: I Can Hear You

The door to Klaus' studio is ajar but Bonnie's knock is still timid, a match to the slow, plodding steps she'd taken up the stairs. Caroline's been holed up here all day. It's brighter than Klaus' bedroom, quieter than the guestroom that's technically hers. She's pretty sure she knows why Bonnie's made the trek all the way to the top floor and, judging from how slowly she's walking, she's not super enthused about the topic she's about to broach.

Caroline can relate.

"Come in!" she calls, setting her laptop and notebook aside. Klaus is out for the afternoon, and probably most of the evening. He'd taken Marcel and Elijah out to The Bayou, something about touching base with the local werewolves. Klaus and the rest of the Mikaelsons hadn't been shy about reinserting themselves into the city, had made it plain they intend to stay.

Reactions from the other supernatural populations have been… mixed. Some vampires had fled, others are trickling back. Freya (and a grudging Davina) are working on the witches but the werewolves had retreated to their territory. Klaus, having used up a fair amount of patience waiting on Tristan, had decided to make an overture rather than wait them out. A mountain of food and liquor had been packed up and Caroline's crossing her fingers that the peace offering will be accepted.

If tensions rise it'll be easy for her to justify staying and she knows can't.

Bon's planning on leaving at the end of the week. Caroline's been noncommittal about heading back to Mystic Falls, fighting between really not wanting to and feeling like she should. There's a little, annoying voice in her head that complains she's being a bad friend. Thankfully, it's drowned out by Caroline's bone deep certainty that there's nothing left in that town for her.

Just about every other person in residence had weighed in on her choice, even those she definitely hadn't asked. Klaus' two cents, carefully worded and more measured than his actual feelings (she'll give him props for personal growth) had been appreciated. Rebekah had reacted with a wrinkled nose and an incredulous, "Ew, why?" Kol had muttered something vaguely threatening but he'd shut up quickly enough when faced with the threatening look Bonnie had sent his way.

Elijah still holds some fondness for Elena. He's promised to work a few contacts when he's able. Word of Tristan's defeat is spreading but it will likely be a few weeks, maybe months before it's well known. Allies who'd gone underground, and apparently the most useful ones had been smart enough to make themselves scarce, will need time to resurface.

Bonnie had deflated a bit when Elijah had given her that news, gentle though he'd been. Caroline had thought about consoling Bonnie by pointing out that Elena had nothing but time. Elena's not aging, in any pain or danger. That Stefan and Damon had lived in doppelganger obsessed dysfunction for over a century so what was a few more years.

She'd swallowed the words when she'd realized the real problem. Bonnie doesn't have the luxury of time. Surrounded by so many vampires these last few months, having little contact with humans in the previous decade, Caroline had kind of forgotten the realities of mortality.

She doesn't want to waste her life doing someone else's bidding. Not again, and she doesn't want that for Bonnie either but, ultimately, that's Bonnie's call.

Though she's not above a little pointed nudging.

Caroline's not going back to Mystic Falls. Has had a conversation defending her reasoning about six (okay, more like sixteen) dozen times in her head.

Hopefully the reality will align closely with the more optimistic scenarios Caroline's constructed.

Bonnie slips inside, shuts the door with her foot. "Do you have a sec?"

Judging from the goodies she's brought - two bottles of wine cradled to her chest, a pair of glasses in one hand and a giant bag of chips in the other – she's going to need more than a second. Caroline's not going to complain. She won't see Bonnie for weeks or months so, assuming Bonnie takes Caroline's no graciously, they can Netflix and stuff their faces after they've talked.

No boys allowed, like they'd done in high school, just with way more options than the video rental place in Mystic Falls had ever offered.

She gets off the couch and snags the envelope she'd left on her side table, and takes the wine off Bonnie's hands. She sets it down and piles her stuff neatly, "I'm just checking out hotels. Klaus gets sneer-y when I browse anything less than 4 stars so it's better to do it solo."

Bonnie actually smiles and it's not even mocking like it might have once been, "I am not the least bit surprised that Klaus is a hotel snob."

Caroline suspects he's being extra picky on her behalf in an attempt to delay her departure date for as long as he can. He won't outright say anything discouraging but the way he goes a little stiff, how carefully blank he keeps his expression, tells Caroline plenty about how deeply he's dreading the day she goes.

"I thought you were committed to winging it."

"I can't entirely wing it," Caroline says, unable to hide her horror at the thought. "Decade long bout of amnesia aside, I didn't get a personality transplant. I'd probably manage to be the first vampire to faint if I got off a plane in a foreign country with no clue what my options were."

Bonnie's lips press together severely as she tries not to laugh. She pulls a corkscrew from her pocket and grabs one of the wine bottles. "At least you know your strengths and weaknesses."

Caroline watches her steady the bottle between her knees, the deft way she gets the cork out. "Oooh, not a screw top? We're so fancy."

Bonnie snorts in disbelief, "Oh, please. Do you really think there's anything in this house with a screw top?"

Alright, she has a point there. "I'm picturing the look on Elijah's face if he found one in the cellar and, let me tell you, it's hilarious."

"He helped me pick the wine out. I did not tell him we would be eating sour cream and onion chips with it."

"Good call."

"At some point, while on the run, I may have conceded to Enzo that compelling nice things wasn't really all that more morally upright than compelling fast food and cheap beer." She confesses it quietly, like she's ashamed, and Caroline can't have that.

Caroline holds up a glass, "Your arteries thank you and so do I."

"I appreciate the lack of judgement."

Caroline takes a taste of the wine, than another, deeper drink because it is good. Bonnie lets out a little hum of her own enjoyment and Caroline sends out a silent thank you because good wine certainly can certainly make the decision she's about to communicate land easier.

But first, a teeny bit of bribery.

She pushes the envelope Bonnie's way. "I have a present for you. Technically two but one won't get here until tomorrow." The car that'll be delivered will have a big red bow on it, to make up for the fact that somehow Caroline forgot to get any wrapping paper.

Bonnie's rips into the envelope, pulls out a thick sheaf of papers. "Thanks?" she says, beginning to flip through them. Her head tips to the side as she studies a page more closely. "This is a…"

"Bank account," Caroline supplies. "In your name. There's a credit card too."

She's braced for a fight and Bonnie doesn't disappoint. "Caroline, I can't…"

"You sure can," she argues cheerfully. "You told me to take Tristan's money, right? Because he took ten years from me. Only fair you take some too. You haven't exactly been living the life you wanted and it's his fault. I set one up for Enzo too but honestly, I'm not sure if he gets how credit cards work. Were those even a thing pre 1950?"

Unfortunately, a little rambling won't distract Bonnie. "You don't need to do this. I can finish school now. Get a job…"

"You're going to do all that and find a way to wake up Elena? Sounds like an awful lot of work and no time for play and I have it on good authority that that's a terrible combo."

"But…"

"But nothing." She reaches over to shove Bonnie's wineglass closer to her. "You told me to take the money and now you have to deal with the consequences. Don't make me borrow one of Klaus' minions to follow you around to jump out of bushes and pay for things."

That coaxes a smile out of Bonnie, "He would absolutely help you do something that annoying, wouldn't he?"

Klaus would do it eagerly, Caroline knows, if only to save her from having to do it herself. "We're not going to have to find out, are we?"

Bonnie sighs, slumps back into the chair. "No, we're not. Thank you, Caroline. Really."

Caroline shakes her head, "Seriously, no thanks necessary. I might be iffy on taking the money but there's a certain amount of satisfaction in using it to help the people I love."

Bonnie's quiet for a moment, eyes focused on the rich red liquid swirling around in her glass. "Speaking of the people you love…"

And now for the hard part.

"I'm not going to Mystic Falls," Caroline says. Winces a bit at the bluntness, once the words are out. She'd planned on easing into them. Bonnie doesn't appear especially surprised. "Not now, at least. I know you're set on working out how to break Elena's curse and I'm not going to try to talk you out of it. I will be periodically calling you and reminding you to do fun things, things for you, so be prepared for that."

"Things for me," Bonnie repeats, sounding dubious. "How pathetic is it that I don't even know what those are anymore?"

Caroline can relate. But she's trying not to wallow in what she's lost, is actually super excited for what's to come. She wants Bonnie to be too. "You can find them again now. Find new ones, even."

"Like?"

Caroline grins, ticks off options on her free hand. "Skydiving? Cupcake making? Sweaty threesomes with superhot vampires?"

Bonnie chokes, slapping a hand over her mouth but a few drops of wine dribble out. Caroline can't resist laughing even as Bon grows more outraged. "That last one is not happening."

Caroline's skeptical. Kol's ramped up his seduction efforts with Bonnie's exit date looming. Caroline had spied Bonnie sandwiched between him and Enzo on the dancefloor at the club they'd been at last night and she hadn't looked like escape was on her mind. When pressed Bonnie had been breezy claiming it had just been dancing, fueled by rum heavy Hurricanes and good music but it had certainly looked steamy.

"If you say so."

Prim now, Bonnie wipes her hand on her jeans, "I do."

It's time to back off but Caroline can't resist one last taunt, "If something like that ever does happen I expect details. Vivid details." The glare she gets is withering and she lifts a hand in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine. Cupcake making would also be awesome. I like baked goods."

"I remember," Bonnie mutters. She's sitting straighter now, perched on the edge of the sofa like she's going to bolt.

Uh oh. Perhaps Caroline's joked a little too much.

"I taught myself how to draw. Secretly," Caroline offers.

Bonnie looks up, surprised. "Really? I seem to remember some distinct opinions about how art class was a waste of time."

Caroline had taken it freshman year, had sat in front of a boy whose version of pigtail pulling involved flicking paints in Caroline's direction. The teacher had been a bit of a hippie dip, always spouting vague platitudes about how Caroline needed to be less literal, to give up control and feel. She'd gotten a B- and promptly switched electives.

It's a memory that hadn't been important enough to come back in the initial rush so it feels new. Caroline wonders how long it'll take before the tiny pieces of who she used to be stop surprising her.

"At some point I just needed something that was mine. A lot of what Tristan and Aurora said to me felt off but I had nowhere else to go. It was a relief to go on missions even if I was technically sticking my neck out."

"Is that when you picked up drawing?"

"Yeah. Originally I just wanted to talk to a cute guy, distract myself for an afternoon." There'd been something Klaus-like about that guy, now that Caroline thinks about it. She can never tell him that, he'd be unbearably smug. "I really sucked in the beginning but I used to wake up in the middle of the night and scribble out pictures of the people I'd dreamt about. Just in case they were real. You and Elena and Tyler and Stefan. Matt. Even Katherine and Damon. I thought I might see one of you in a crowd someday and my memories would come flooding back and I'd remember who I was."

Caroline knows that wouldn't have happened, not with all the magic Tristan's witches had shoved into her. That doesn't matter now. She'd clung to the hope that she wasn't alone in the world, drawn strength from it.

She shakes away the flare of anger, the sense of loss that's quick to follow, and smiles brightly. "Anyway, I figure if I can pick up a new hobby under those circumstances it should be a snap to find a few more. I'll text you. We'll compare notes. Maybe figure out things we might like to do together when we meet up."

"I'd like that."

"How long do you think you'll stay? In Mystic Falls."

"Not long," Bonnie says quickly, confirming that she's not looking forward to the hometown visit. "I need to see if Damon and Stefan have learned anything useful. Stefan said Alaric's been helping, getting them books. I picked up a lead or two when I could. Not many, since we moved so often, but…"

"Nothing wrong with saving yourself, Bon. If Damon's a dick just remind him that you're the best shot he's got at getting Elena uncursed." Especially now that she's made a few new witch friends.

"I'll be heading back this way before too long. Freya's got a lot of ideas, says she can reach out to the covens she knew here for help. Will you be coming back when you're done in Chile?"

Well, that's a loaded question. "At some point. Chile's only my first stop."

Bonnie studies her thoughtfully, "Oh, I thought you and Klaus…"

Caroline can't help but smile. Bonnie's really doing a great job at hiding her distaste for Klaus and Caroline's feelings for him. "I'm not planning on never seeing him again or anything. But I still have a whole lot of world left to see and a bajillion things to do." All by her lonesome, so she can form her own impressions and pick her favorites. She'd just been starting to define herself, away from home, without fear of what people would think, before running into Tristan had derailed her. It's even more necessary now, to reconcile who she'd been, the things she'd done. To figure out what she wants.

Someday, she and Klaus will compare notes about the places she's planning on seeing. And argue, probably.

Bonnie struggles, her mouth opening a few times as she tries to work out what she wants to say. "And he's just going to let you go?"

Caroline exhales slowly, reminds herself that Bonnie's got a huge list of reasons to think the worst of Klaus. "Yep," she says and she kind of hopes that's all she'll have to say.

Sue her, she's an optimist.

"Are you sure?" Bonnie blurts.

Caroline breathes deeply, exhales slowly. Reminds herself that it's not even a little bit unreasonable for Bonnie to have doubts about Klaus' intentions. "Do you remember how I told you I only spoke to him for a few minutes at graduation? Well, that was a lie."

He'd driven her home and she'd been reluctant to get out of his SUV, to officially say good bye. Klaus hadn't been in any hurry to encourage her to go in and they'd talked until the sky had begun to lighten. About the six different majors she was considering, about how different New Orleans was after nearly two hundred years. He'd pointed out constellations and she'd complained about his radio presets and neither had called the other out on any lingering, memorizing, glances that might have happened.

He's heard her mother's alarm go off and Caroline had known she had to go inside. She'd pressed a kiss to his cheek, thanked him, and hurried up the porch. She hadn't let herself look back but she'd held her breath until she'd heard his engine turn over.

She'd distracted herself in the kitchen, and had a feast ready to go when her mother made her way downstairs.

"Okay," Bonnie says slowly and Caroline feels a rush of gratitude because Bon's trying to understand.

"And when he came back, when Katherine was dying…"

Bonnie makes a noise of amusement, "Yeah, your little woodsy rendezvous didn't stay low key for long."

"I just… I told myself that I couldn't like Klaus. Couldn't want him, because of what he did to Elena and to Tyler and what he's capable of in general. That he was a killer and the worst kind of vampire and that any decent person should hate him."

After her mother had died, when she'd left Mystic Falls and mostly cut off contact with everyone she'd grown up with it had been harder to claim moral superiority. She'd killed people, so had nearly all of her friends. She'd had to acknowledge that they hadn't always been the good guys.

"But you didn't hate him," Bonnie says, knowing, with blessedly little judgement.

"I think that's pretty obvious at this point," Caroline tries to joke.

"Just a little."

"Klaus could have stuck around. Could have worn me down. Honestly, if he'd come to find me when I first left it probably would have been easier than I would like to admit."

With her mother gone, far from home without her friend's distaste for the realities of vampirism, she'd taken the opportunity to explore.

Blood bags hadn't been easy to come by on her travels and choking down animal blood had never appealed. Caroline had first started regularly feeding from the vein then. Had stopped feeling guilty about it quickly. She'd found vampire friendly nightlife, clubs that humans clamored to get into, not knowing that the purpose of tightly controlled exits was memory alteration not crowd control. She'd even imagined Klaus finding her on a dark dance floor, moving with her to the pulsing beat, closer and hotter than the proper ballroom dances they'd shared before.

Had he found her, offered her Paris or Rome again, she would have said yes.

"But Klaus doesn't want to wear me down." He wants to be chosen but she doesn't explain that to Bonnie. Caroline understands the desire to be the one well.

Bonnie takes a long drink of wine and Caroline sure she wants to say more but Caroline's really over having to justify her choices.

She's leaving, Klaus gets why and he's not going to hold her back. End of story.

She takes a handful of chips, crunches loudly for a long moment. "If you really need me, call me and I'll come. If Elena wakes up, call me and I'll fly out and help you catch her up on what she's missed."

Bonnie cracks a smile, slumps back into the cushions. Doesn't try to protest the subject change. She curls her legs under her, "I'm not going to call you just if I need you."

"Obviously. If I don't hear from you at least once every forty-eight hours I'm going to worry. I really missed good girl talk."

"Oh god, me too."

Bonnie doesn't call her out for her paranoia. Caroline might relax about the time gap. In a year or two or five. She's not alone in her worries because Bonnie confesses she's been trying to work out a way to ask for a vial Caroline's blood, so she can work a location spell in case of an emergency.

That leads to hugging, and a couple of tears, and Enzo freezes when he enters the room to find them sniffling, but only for a moment before he's asking if he needs to kill someone.

He looks alarmed when that only makes Caroline cry more, glances behind him and mutters something about getting his heart ripped out. Bonnie assures him that Caroline's fine, and that Klaus is miles away, sends him to the kitchen to collect all the chocolate he can find and then meet them in the living room with the good TV.

Caroline doesn't mind when Enzo crashes movie night, or when Kol and Rebekah and Josh and Gia wander in and drape themselves over the furniture. Davina and Freya make do with the floor, wheedling throw pillows away from everyone else. Caroline gets a little heated about Kol's wrong opinions about Legally Blonde (though maybe he has a point about Chihuahuas being pure evil) but not enough to retreat to a more private room.

Surrounded by her friends – old and new – and Klaus' family she can barely remember the suffocating loneliness she'd endured while working for Tristan.

It might just be the best (not actually) girl's night ever.

Klaus is doing his best to be quiet even if sneaking through his own house galls. He'd left Kol and Rebekah below stairs, and careful listening tells him that there's several people gathered in a room on the main floor, four or five voices rising and falling. Otherwise, the house is still.

He's just gotten through attempting to extract information from Tristan and he needs to remember to store a few changes of clothing in the basement. He'd washed up as best he could in the sink but his grey shirt is heavily crusted with blood.

None of his guests are unaware of what's happening in the basement. The witches just prefer not to be reminded of it. Bonnie Bennett's thawed to him, ever so slightly. Klaus isn't about to risk back sliding in her estimation by reminding her of the root of her disapproval.

He'd been the villain, once upon a time. Still is, to some.

Today he'd managed to carve a decent rendering of the Eiffel Tower in to Tristan's back over the course of the interrogation. A bit cliché but the many tiny cuts necessary to capture the details had made it a wise choice.

Tristan's given them nothing useful yet, has only named his most obvious allies, vampires and covens either Caroline or Lucien knew of. Having spent sixty years plotting to bring Klaus down, and a measly ten enjoying the fruits of his labor, it's only logical that he's reluctant to admit defeat. He's arrogant enough to believe he's got a path of escape.

Fortunately, others have been more accommodating. They've gleaned much from interrogating the vampires and witches who'd accompanied Tristan. In exchange for the promise of quick deaths, safety for their loved ones, they'd been willing to spill all that they knew. Caroline had claimed that Tristan had very few true believers on his side and she'd been proven correct. Klaus is very much looking forward to the day when Tristan's pride shatters, and he lowers himself to beg for the mercy of death.

He hears someone coming towards the stairs and he's about to speed through the last bit of distance to his room when he hears the humming. He pauses instinctively when he recognizes Caroline's voice and she stops short when she sees him. She looks like she's been outside, the tops of her shoulders and cheeks reddened with sunburn that'll be gone in an hour. A pair of sandals dangles from one hand.

Her eyes widen, taking in his bloodied clothing. She's stopped trying to guard her thoughts from him and the surprise on her face is quickly overtaken by a grim sort of satisfaction, "Did you have a productive afternoon?"

"Not especially," Klaus admits. "But I doubt we'll ever get all that much from Tristan himself."

Caroline's head tips forward, like she agrees, but she doesn't offer any other commentary. She turns to mount the stairs and Klaus falls into step. He doesn't offer more information and Caroline doesn't ask.

She's avoided any mention of Tristan and Aurora. Has insisted that allowing them to take up space in her thoughts was more than they deserved. They creep into her dreams, Klaus knows, and she'll sometimes wake up struggling and fearful. He's coaxed her to talk a bit then, she'll burrow into him and whisper the briefest of stories until she stops shaking.

Klaus is careful not to go directly to Tristan's cell the following morning. He doesn't trust himself not to get overzealous.

"A delivery guy came earlier," Caroline tells him. "With the computer stuff from Paris. Josh is really milking the resident tech vampire thing and bossing people around while it's unpacked. I've never seen Marcel so peeved and I spent a fair bit of time actively trying to annoy him."

Klaus steps closer, takes Caroline's free hand in his. She doesn't resist though she darts a quick glance over and down at his shirt. "Yes, well Josh lacks your charm."

Caroline groans, squeezes his hand, "Ugh, you can cut out the cheeseball flattery, you know. It's wasted on me at this point."

"You like it," Klaus shoots back breezily.

"You wish," she counters. She pulls away from him but heads in the direction of his bedroom. When Klaus reaches for her she quickens her pace, tossing a glare over her shoulder. "I like this dress. Don't get blood on it."

The dress is pale green, with thin straps and buttons down the front. Klaus thinks it's one of the things she's ordered for herself so if she wants it to remain pristine he'll oblige her. He lets her get a few steps away, holds up his hands in agreement, "As you wish, sweetheart. I'll shower quickly."

She makes a noise of agreement as she opens the door, making her way to the bed and flopping down. She stretches to reach a book she'd left on her side of the table. "Are we going out to dinner tonight?"

"If you'd like." He's pleased that she seems to want to, isn't sure when the novelty of Caroline desiring his company will wear off. He's taken her to most of his favorite spots, alternating with places from a list Caroline's made, some of which hadn't existed ten years ago.

"Yes, please. Bon's leaving tomorrow. Enzo's taking her somewhere fancy for dinner but I thought I'd catch up with her for drinks. Maybe Elijah or Marcel would be willing to come out too?"

Caroline's become adept at arranging circumstances so that tempers don't flare. "I'll ask," he replies. In such a manner that would ensure an affirmative response.

"Cool," Caroline mumbles. Her head dips, comes to rest on her forearm, her attention on her book. Klaus doesn't move, glad to have the opportunity to remember her like this. It's safe for her to go now, and with her closest friend leaving Klaus knows Caroline will begin making firmer plans. That he'll not have very many more of these moments.

Her knees are bent, her feet swaying in the air behind her, twitching and tapping to some rhythm he can't hear. She's perfectly relaxed, in a room that's only ever been his. She's managed to imprint herself in it and he knows it'll look wrong without her clothes draped over the bench at the end of the bed, without pieces of jewelry and her phone cord on the bedside table.

Years ago, when he'd proclaimed his intentions to Caroline, he hadn't known what the reality would look like. That he could sleep next to someone and not wake, ready to fight, when they touched him. That he could have a side of the bed, a designated shelf in the shower. That he would like staying in with her, doing nothing of great excitement, as much as he enjoyed showing her New Orleans.

He's gotten a glimpse of what a life with her could be and he's going to miss it.

She twists to look at him, smiling with some degree of exasperation, "How long are you planning on staring at me?"

"I'm afraid any answer I could possibly produce is going to be written off as cheesy."

She does a respectable job of not smiling as she points at the bathroom, "Just get in the shower."

He spins without further comment, mentally rifling through the restaurants they've yet to sample. It's his turn to choose and, though he knows Caroline leaving is inevitable, he's still doing his damnedest to ensure she'll want to return.

She's been saying her good byes all day. Some easy (Rebekah, cool and frosty had scoffed, "I wish it was goodbye. But unfortunately you'll likely turn up again."), others more difficult. She's going to miss more people than she'd ever expected to when she leaves New Orleans tomorrow

But she's not dumb enough to think that she won't miss Klaus the most.

She'd woken up alone, sprawled over his side of the bed as she tends to do when given the opportunity. She's barely caught a glimpse of him since then. He'd skipped dinner, and Caroline can't help but feel a little hurt. She gets why, gets that it's hard on him and he sucks at expressing emotions in a positive way. Or at all.

Maybe it would have been better for her to have kept her distance, to have avoided falling into the comfortable intimate patterns they have. Caroline can't bring herself to regret it, not when she's gained so much from it. Klaus isn't good, or easy, but Caroline can admit that she isn't either, that she no longer really wants to be. They'll never be simple. They'll always butt heads, and he'll always test her control.

That used to scare her, and it still kind of does. The bigger part of her has come to crave it, and recognize that it makes her better. Stronger.

She knows she'll be back someday. Permanently, just like he'd claimed she would be.

Caroline's checked all his usual haunts, and some out of the way ones, just in case he's putting in some serious effort to avoid her. She's circled back to his bedroom, even though she'd already checked it. Walking into the room it still appears empty. The TV is off, his sketchbooks undisturbed. Planting her hands on her hips Caroline feels her annoyance skyrocket.

Until she spies the doors to the balcony, the glass ajar.

Stalking over, she opens it wider, sticks her head outside. "Ha!" she crows. "Found you."

Klaus is sprawled out on one of the chaises, and his head rolls to the side slowly. His eyes are just a little unfocused, and she suspects that the mostly empty crystal decanter is to blame. Doubts it's his first. She snatches it from the table, takes a sip. Winces at the potency of the liquor. "And here I was hoping you'd show me a good time on my last night," Caroline jokes.

It's the wrong thing to say because Klaus' expression darkens, his eyes shifting back to the night sky. He doesn't reply and Caroline sighs. "Move over," she demands, crowding him on his chair.

He goes, slowly and grudgingly, "There's a perfectly good lounge right there, Caroline," he complains, his arms held stiffly at his side.

"Yeah, but this one's already warm. Since you've been lying here. For hours and hours. Blowing off my good bye dinner."

She's going for guilt but from what she can see Klaus remains stony. Unsurprising, considering his overall unfamiliarity with the emotion.

Caroline flips over onto her side, so she can look at him. "Klaus, come on. I get that you're pissed that I'm leaving. Do we really have to say goodbye like this? Is freezing me out right now going to make tomorrow easier?"

He fights with himself, but eventually relaxes, his body softening next to hers. "I supposed I can be angry at you tomorrow," he allows. "After you've left."

Caroline nods, shifting over when he lifts his arm and wraps it around her, burrowing into his side. "Totally. Just don't smash anything I actually like, okay? Maybe go after that green couch in the living room. It's ugly and scratchy."

She sees him smile reluctantly. "Noted, love."

She rests her hand on his chest, feels the steady beat of his heart for a long moment. "Or," she ventures tentatively, "You could just not be angry with me?"

Klaus sighs, rests his hand over hers. "Unlikely. Anger is easy."

"I know. But it's kind of not necessary. I'm coming back, you know."

His head twists to the side, so quickly she thinks it must have hurt. He studies her face, his eyes wide with surprise. She kind of wants to laugh, because she's not certain that she's ever seen him wear that particular expression. There's an openness that's endearing. So of course Klaus has to ruin it. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Caroline," he warns.

"Don't threaten me," she snaps back, sitting up higher. His face turns stony, stubborn, and he looks like he's going to get up. Caroline acts quickly and sighs, throwing a leg over him, pushing him down. She can't actually pin Klaus, but she glares down at him until he settles reluctantly. "I'm coming back, Klaus. I don't know when. Maybe it'll be an entire century. Maybe you won't even be here anymore. But when I'm ready, and I'm pretty damn sure that I will be ready, I'll find you. Okay?"

He nods once, sharp and jerky. But his eyes are soft, maybe a touch uncomfortable. His words come out measured and firm, "Be very sure, Caroline. When you return. I'll let you go tomorrow, because I know there are still things you need to find for yourself. But when you come back, I'll hold on. I'll do everything in my power to make it impossible for you to leave."

She knows that, deep down. Knows that she's testing the limits of his patience, of the lengths he's willing to go for her. That he's letting her, the fact that he's not trying to keep her when she's fairly certain he could, with a little effort, is one of the reasons why she thinks that he's going to be it for her.

"Deal," she says lightly, tracing her fingers down his throat.

She hadn't come out here for heavy, wants to make a few more good memories before she goes. She smirks teasingly, "Besides, it's not like your minions aren't going to be creepily reporting back on my every move. And we both know I'm going to call you in like four days because my high school Spanish is awful and I'm going to run into some dick at a marketplace who thinks I'm nothing but a pretty blonde idiot and will try to gouge me when all I want to do is buy something shiny. I want to know all of the swear words, Klaus. And I'm sure that you know them."

His hands span her hips, his thumbs tracing idle circles. "You can call me for other reasons. Any reason. At any time. Say, if you happen to wake in the middle of the night with a nightmare."

They're less frequent now but who knows if that'll change when she's sleeping alone. Klaus has learned the worst of her memories late at night, and she's felt better, lighter, with speaking them out loud. "That would be nice, actually."

He smiles, soft and pleased, pulling her a little closer. Caroline realizes that there's one more thing they need to make clear. "You can call me too, you know. I encourage it. Kol's been weirdly mope-y since Bon and Enzo left and I'm invested. And I want to know if…"

Klaus interrupts but Caroline's not mad about it. His hand is in her hair, his mouth a hot demand over hers. He tastes like whiskey but she doesn't mind, because his hands are slipping up the back of her top, tracing distracting patterns on her spine. He rips the fabric when he pulls it over her head, his lips wandering down her chest as her head tips back.

She closes her eyes, and goes for his shirt, needing his skin. She doesn't know when she'll see him again though she can't imagine, feeling like she does right now – with his hands fumbling with the buttons of her shorts and his mouth on her nipple – that it'll be very long before she wants to.

She's learned that like throws curveballs, both awful and fantastic. It's important to save up the good. Hoard it and hold it close. This, her and Klaus, the clear night sky and the heat that consumes them. The things they feel that they've yet to stay. It's one of those moments. Caroline's determined to make it count.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, grins when he sees Caroline's name on the display. He's been having a drink with Marcel but he holds up a finger and swipes across the screen to answer. She's speaking before he manages a greeting, "Why are there so many zeros, Klaus? This is so not what we talked about!"

Ah, so she's checked her bank accounts. He'd been expecting this. Marcel looks on with interest, leaning back in his seat. "Hold on, love. I'm just with Marcellus."

"Hi Marcel!" she yells, loud enough that he needs to pull the phone from his ear. "I'm sure he'll support my need to ask you what the hell did you do?"

Marcel has a finely honed sense of self-preservation, manages not to hold in his laughter. "I'm just going to get another drink." He doesn't wait for a reply, slipping into the crowd, his shoulders shaking obviously.

"Caroline," Klaus begins reasonably, "we agreed that you were entitled to some compensation, having essentially worked for Tristan, unpaid, for so many years."

"Some, compensation! This isn't some. This is…"

"A small fraction of what the liquidation of his assets resulted in. Trust me."

He'd thought to give her all of it, having no need for Tristan's money himself. It's not as though any of Tristan's underlings remained, and those who'd jumped ship at one time or another were not to be trusted either. The wealth was considerable, and money was power, even for creatures such as them. It had to be managed.

Caroline had balked, when he'd first told her of the plan, had insisted that she wanted nothing of the de Martel's. Told him he could burn every house of theirs she'd ever set foot in for all she cared. She'd stuffed the clothes Tristan had paid for, the ones she'd packed for his last errand, into one of the fireplaces.

It was cathartic, she'd claimed. Cleansing.

"How teeny of a fraction?" Caroline asks, her voice heavy with suspicion.

"You'd have to ask Elijah, if you want an exact accounting." It's a bit of a fib, he's got a fairly good idea. There's still the Paris house to go through, and since it was Tristan's primary residence Klaus imagines it will yield an impressive collection of valuables. Plus there's an estate near Tuscany, a high rise in Sydney both awaiting buyers.

She makes an aggravated noise, her breath blowing out noisily. "I have no idea what to do with this much money," she grumbles. "Bonnie will have kittens if I try to give her more."

"Shop," Klaus suggests. "Buy a piece or two from a reasonably established artist instead of the desperate starving types you like to gamble on. Fly first class, once in a while. Learn to sail and buy a yacht…"

Caroline laughs, a bright happy sound. "Okay, okay. I get your point. Just buy everything, basically."

"Compulsion is tricky, these days. All the cameras."

"Ah, yes," Caroline says dryly. "Tell me about the good old days when free will was so much more difficult to steal."

Klaus finishes his drink, digs out his wallet and throws some money on the table. He finds Marcel in the crowd, watching him, good natured and amused. He returns Klaus' nod as he leaves. "I'd rather talk about you. How are you finding Greece?"

"Hot," Caroline says. "I was really jet lagged so I've only seen my hotel but the room service dinner I ordered was incredible. I totally thought I wasn't a fish person but I was wrong."

"I'll text you a list of my favorite places. It's been about thirty years since I've been, so hopefully some of them are still there."

"That'd be great," she enthuses. "I really liked some of the places you suggested in Montreal."

Klaus smiles, dodging humans on his way out the door. He'd known that, had looked forward to Caroline's frequent texts and pictures. He now has an Instagram account and she's the only person he follows.

Caroline had left New Orleans and traipsed up and down the Chilean coastline, occasionally dipping into Argentina, drawn by talks of ArteBA and then staying for a music festival. She'd spent nearly four months there, before packing her bags, determined to get to Montreal before it got too cold.

She'd fallen in love with snow, however, had stayed through the holidays. Said she liked how different it was, from what she'd grown up with. She found she could embrace the things she'd liked about the Christmas up there, without the painful reminders of her childhood home.

A bitter January, bleak and frigid had driven her away. She'd met up with The Bennett witch, and they'd had a grand time in New Mexico for several weeks. Including a wild weekend in Las Vegas that Caroline's intriguingly tight lipped about.

He'd coax the story from her someday.

Bonnie's now working with some New Orleans covens, her quest to wake the doppelganger continuing. Klaus is expecting her to turn up in his city before long, knows she and Freya correspond regularly. He's sure it will be delightful, having grown accustomed to the strained politeness Caroline's friend strives for in his presence.

Hopefully she'd leave her vampire whelp at home. Klaus' fondness for Enzo remains nonexistent.

Caroline had just embarked on the most recent leg of her journey, a stay in Athens, and Klaus is very much looking forward to her impressions on another older city. It had never been one of his favorites, but perhaps it will be one of hers.

She tells him about her flight, laments her inability to sleep properly in planes. Klaus strolls about the city as he listens, no destination in mind. "How are things with you?" she asks, once she's done.

Klaus hesitates, unsure if he wants to risk bringing down her mood. In the end he decides to tell her, because he believes she'd want to know. "Very well," he begins. "We're finally satisfied that we've learned all we can from Tristan and Aurora."

"Oh," Caroline says, sounding stunned. "Does that mean…"

"We'll be disposing of them, yes. Tomorrow." Via the sun. Klaus will have to coax Kol into helping dig a pit in the backyard once he arrives home.

She's quiet, for long minutes and Klaus listens carefully for sounds of distress. But her breathing remains measured, there's no indication of nervous movements. One deep inhale and then words rush across the line, "I'm actually really glad. And then I thought that I'm a horrible person for that reaction. But I remembered that they're horrible, and that they deserve it. For what they did to me. And to you. So even if it is horrible of me I'm fine with my horribleness in this instance."

"Well, I don't think you're horrible," Klaus remarks teasingly.

"You better not," she shoots back, laughing once more. "I'd be super offended."

"Noted." Klaus decides a subject change is prudent, "How long are you planning on staying in Greece?"

"Not sure. Depends on what I find to do. I kinda like keeping things open ended way more than I ever thought possible."

"And you're headed to Kuala Lumpur afterwards?" Klaus asks idly, even though he has her planned itinerary well memorized.

He's surprised by the tiny nervous hitch in her breathing. "Y-yeah. That's the plan."

Klaus pauses, glares at the human who curses as he nearly runs into him. The man is young, large, and slightly inebriated, and he spews a few more slurred profanities as he steps around Klaus. Really, the fool is lucky that Klaus is in the middle of something important, and not all that hungry. Caroline pulls his focus back, the nerves in her laugh making his brows rise. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing!" she exclaims. "Nothing at all. I just…"

Klaus waits her out, and now he can hear her pacing. "Things were a little weird, when I left New Orleans. I wasn't sure how you and I would work. But we figured it out and it's been really good! I like talking to you, and I don't want to mess that up. Except…"

Caroline seems to flounder again, and Klaus thinks this would be so much simpler if he could see her face. "But…" he prods.

She blows out a noisy gust of air. "I'm thinking of taking a little side trip. Tokyo. After Kuala Lumpur. And you can totally say no, because this isn't me coming for you, because there are still things I want to do on my own, but…"

"Yes," Klaus tells her, without hesitation. He'll take an interlude, the opportunity to see her face to face. To be able to touch her and watch her as she tries new things and experiences a new place. To shore up her resolve, to ensure that she doesn't change her mind. She still has a mental list and Klaus is determined he'll be at the end of it.

"You'll meet me there?"

Klaus begins walking again, turning and heading towards his home. It's been years since he's been to Tokyo, so perhaps some research is in order, some preliminary plans to be put in place. Something flexible, because Caroline's timetable is unpredictable. "Just give me a couple of days' notice, sweetheart. And I'll be there."

Caroline watches the numbers on the elevator display nervously. She's tapping her foot against the plush carpet of the car, and the attendant is giving her a mildly concerned look.

It's stupid to be freaking out. It's just Klaus.

Klaus who she hasn't seen in over a year. Klaus who she wants to call far more often than she actually allows herself to.

She'd only booked one room. Had second guessed that decision approximately once an hour since she'd made it. Because who was she kidding, there was no way they weren't ending up in bed together.

Their phone calls often bend flirty, his voice in her ear can turn her on to a degree that's almost embarrassing. And he knows it, curves his accent around consonants and vowels in what Caroline's certain is a deliberate seduction. They've come dangerously close to phone sex a time or two but she's never let it get that far. She's touched herself once they've hung up, bit her lip to keep from shouting his name when she comes. She half suspects that letting him talk her to orgasm would mean admitting something that she's not ready to.

Sharing a room just seems logical, given all of that. But, an annoying little voice, one that sounds suspiciously close to Caroline's human teenage self, keeps piping up. 'What if he's over you?' it nags. "What if he's sick of waiting for you to make up your mind?' 'What if there's someone else?'

She'd managed to tell that voice to shove it, that Klaus would say something if there were someone else, someone serious. She'd made the booking with shaky fingers, sent him a copy of the confirmation. Only answered texts, let the calls go to her voicemail, so he couldn't cotton on to her (admittedly possibly melodramatic) inner turmoil.

It's easier when he's half a world away, when this plush elevator isn't silently eating up the physical distance that separates them. She closes her eyes when the doors open, takes a deep cleansing breath and squares her shoulders. Gives a faint smile to the young guy with her luggage and follows him in the indicated direction.

Her hand's unsteady when she slips the keycard through the door, and she braces herself. His flight had gotten in hours ago, and she'd insisted he not wait around the airport for her. No one liked airports and Klaus likes humans less than most. She can't imagine a place teaming with bitchy, travel weary members of the species is high on his list of places to hang out. And hey, she'd argued, he was kind of going on vacation. No need to start it out on a bad note (or an excessive people eating one).

She expects him to be in the room and he is, just not totally alert.

Caroline makes a mental note that Original Hybrids are not immune to the tiring parts of traveling. He'd clearly just rolled out of bed when the door had opened, primed for a threat. His clothes are rumpled and his hair's a mess. She's so used to him being imposing that seeing him like this, passing for your average twenty something traveler, makes her giggle behind her hand. She crosses the threshold of the room, barely noticing the hotel employee slipping in after her. Caroline tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, approaching Klaus slowly. "Hi," she says.

He beams at her and looks at her, taking her in. It's all consuming, the force of his attention, makes her forget they're not alone. She's just glad she'd freshened up before landing. He probably wouldn't have cared if she'd shown up in leggings and a chunky cardigan the pretty floral dress she'd changed into makes her feel good.

"Hello, love," he drawls.

This hotel's trained they're employees well (and she did splurge on one of the most expensive in the city) and her luggage is neatly deposited before he slips out quietly. "Are you tired?" Klaus asks, looking at her carefully. "Do you need blood?"

She shakes her head, and stops resisting her instincts, stepping into him. He goes stiff, under her surprise hug, but relaxes once she buries her nose in his throat. Caroline inhales deeply, his familiar scent both a comfort and a stimulant. "I'm good," she mumbles. "My flight was way shorter than yours, remember? And I snacked on a flight attendant." His hands span her back, gentle and tentative and Caroline lets her body melt into his. "Do you want to sleep some more?" Caroline wonders, pulling her head back to look at him. "You said you're flight time was what, like 18 hours?"

"I texted you," Klaus corrects. His hand cups her face, preemptively stopping her to look away. "We haven't spoken in eight days. Something of a record, and not one I'm especially fond of."

Ugh, of course he wouldn't let that go. She feels her face heat, knows he notices when his thumb rubs over her cheekbone.

"Something on your mind?"

"Kind of?" Caroline hedges. "I only booked one room. I didn't ask you, and I felt a little weird about that."

Klaus blinks, confusion clear across his face, "Why? You spent plenty of nights in my bed in New Orleans. If you'll recall, I'm exceedingly fond of testing the depth of your sleep with my tongue."

Yeah, Caroline didn't exactly hate that.

"I've only ever had boyfriends," Caroline says, by way of explanation. "I'm not sure how to do… this. Whatever this is."

Something like distaste crosses his face, "I'm not fond of that term."

Caroline fights a smile, "Yeah, I figured. I can't imagine using it, to be honest."

One of his arms bands around her waist, the other threading through her hair. "When it's applicable, we'll discuss the appropriate terminology, agreed?"

Caroline nods, and Klaus continues. "I can't say I've ever done this before, either. You have to know that you're singular, Caroline. I spent centuries ready to run at a moments' notice, on the lookout for betrayals. Connections, forming or even desiring them, did not often cross my mind."

It makes sense of what she knows of his life, the little bits he's started to tell her, and what she's learned secondhand from others. And of how clumsy he can be with emotion, the deep and messy ones, for all the easy charm and perfect words he can produce when he's only dealing with surface feelings.

"So… we make our own rules?"

Klaus grins, "I do enjoy doing that."

His hold on her firms, and Caroline feels them tipping, landing on their sides on the bed. She narrows her eyes playfully, "Hey, now. Who said anything about jumping into bed?"

Klaus rolls on top of her, holds himself up with his forearms, "That's certainly got to be a rule, don't you think?"

"Jumping into bed?"

Klaus' expression is mock serious, as he nods, "I'll also accept chairs, sofas. Probably tables, too. You did quite like the one in my studio, if I recall correctly. I've not been able to bring myself to smooth out the marks your nails left."

She presses her lips together, tries not to laugh. Moments like these, when he's so light, make it difficult for her to believe that vampires the world over practically pee themselves in fear of his name. She'd seen glimpses of it, back in Mystic Falls. The guy who'd teased her about a beauty pageant application, who'd taken her sarcastic barbs with good humor and had managed to tease back.

She's going to be so love with him someday.

And she's going to have to accept the monster when she does.

Once upon a time Caroline had thought reconciling the two impossible, but she'd been very young then, convinced that her own monster was controllable, that her slips were forgivable because they weren't who she really was. That if she tried hard enough to be a good vampire she could make her parents proud.

They're gone, and she isn't.

Caroline has lived just over three decades, with centuries stretching out before her. Slips will happen, because she's a vampire. Blood keeps her alive. Who she is can be dangerous, Caroline has come to accept that. She feels no shame in protecting herself, or in protecting those she loves.

Klaus is the same. He just has more years, and more enemies. More people who he'd kill for.

He'd been right. They really are the same, in a great many ways.

He's waited patiently, while she's mused. When she focuses back on him, it seems to be what he'd been waiting for. He settles more firmly against her, and Caroline suppresses a moan at how good it is. "So, sex is happening," Caroline states, maybe somewhat unnecessarily, given the solid evidence of how onboard he is with that plan. Klaus' head drops to her shoulder, and she feels his body shake with his chuckle. He kisses her neck, the rasp of his tongue on her skin a pleasant shock. "I certainly hope so."

Caroline considers that, and how she'd like this to go. It has been almost a year since she'd had a really good orgasm, after all. "Okay," she says, before a quick shove and a powerful twist of her hips lands her on top.

She strips her dress off before she settles against him, reaches behind her and slips her bra off too. It's nice, comfortable and expensive, and Klaus is prone to ripping things. "Rule number two. I think since I invited you, I should totally get to call the shots to start with."

He raises a brow, his hands landing on her thighs. "Does that mean I'll get to take a turn? And if I were to invite you somewhere, I would be entitled to dictating how our first night progresses?"

Caroline pulls out her braid, shaking her hair loose as she considers him. "Yes. And within reason."

He folds his hands under his head, smug and so satisfied that Caroline's left wondering what sort of evil mental loophole he's just crafted for himself. When he shifts slightly, under the pretense of getting comfortable, the press of his cock between her thighs sends her thoughts down more pertinent, carnal, avenues.

Whatever he's plotting it's pretty likely that she'll enjoy it, so Caroline figures she might as well focus on the here and now.

She slides her hands under his shirt, pushes it up until he lifts off the bed enough to help her remove it. She traces his biceps, the breadth of his shoulders. Ducks down to kiss his collarbone and trace a few of the birds inked there with her lips and tongue.

He's remarkably placid, his breathing even. It's only the tensing and relaxing of his abs under the hand she has there for balance that shows he's affected.

Well, that's no fun.

Caroline reaches back to toss off her sandals before she pushes herself to her feet. She notes the slight twitching of his hands, like he wants to grab her and pull her back down. She peels of her panties away while he watches her greedily. Nudges his legs apart with her foot so she can kneel between them. His jeans sit low, waistband of black boxer briefs visible and she mouths along the elastic, nipping at his hipbone and hiding a smile when he twitches.

She attacks his belt, then the fastenings of his pants. Tears them, along with what's under down his legs so he's as naked as she is. She grasps his cock, pumping leisurely and thumbing the head. He grits his teeth, "Caroline," forced out between them in a dangerous rumble. She aims for innocent, with her smile, but suspects she misses the mark. His lips are parted, and he's so tense, control on a very short leash.

She flicks her tongue out, takes a quick taste of him, salty-bitter on her tongue. His eyes slam shut, head digging into the pillows. "What would you do if I drew this out, Klaus? Do you remember that first time in New Orleans? I was so ready, had been ready for you since you licked blood from my palm. I wanted you for hours before it was possible. And when it was, you wouldn't just get on with it. I wanted you hard and fast against that wall. But you made me beg."

His voice is rough, coaxing. "It was worth it, in the end, wasn't it?"

It really, really had been.

She rolls his balls for a moment, just to give him a little taste of his own medicine, and enjoy the strangled groan that comes from deep in his chest, before she lifts up and straddles him. Caroline throws her head back as she slides down his length. She's slick and more than ready, moans when her hips are pressed against his.

Rolling her head forward to look at him, she's gratified by the strain on his face. She doesn't know if he'll ever beg, but she files the thought of trying away, thinks it might be a fun way to spend a few hours.

Not right now. She wraps a finger in one of his necklaces, tugs until he's sitting up, bites down on his shoulder when his cock nestles deeper. "So good," she rasps out, wrapping her arms around him. "I want…"

She doesn't have to ask for it, he's pulling her into him, helping her until they're a rough messy perfect clash of hips. She tips his head back, licks into his mouth to quiet her moans. The bed creaks, he slips a hand between them to palm a breast and she moans when he rolls her nipple between two fingers. She'd soon breathing too hard to focus on kissing him, sets her sweaty palms on his shoulders to she can rock down on him faster. One particularly rough thrust sends her reeling, her control fraying. She feels her fangs drop, cutting into his lip. The blood pushes her higher, and she whines as his taste fills her mouth.

"Fuck," Klaus pants, kissing down her shoulder. He shoves his wrist in front of her mouth and she grabs for it, sinking her teeth in and drinking deep. She feels the prick of his fangs in her shoulder, his feral noise of want rumbling through her. A needy little sob spills from her as she pulls away. She's so close it's painful, almost too much. "Come, Caroline," Klaus demands, thick and forceful, licking at the closing wound on her neck. She shoves her hand between them, circles her clit as he drives into her, calling his name as her climax rushes through her. He follows her with a hoarse moan, hips pumping erratically.

Her vision goes hazy, white around the edges, and she feels herself falling backwards. Klaus tugs her up and they tumble to the bed together, a messy heap of twitching limbs and raged breaths. He gropes for the blankets, disheveled underneath them, manages to pull them over the two of them, tucking her body half under his.

She'd been kind of surprised that he was into post coital cuddling, but she's not going to complain. Or ever mention it to another soul. She enjoys his warmth as her pulse settles, traces patterns along the damp length of his spine.

Klaus' heartbeat returns to normal before hers does but he makes no move to pull away. Caroline clears her throat, "All right. So rules one and two are awesome."

Klaus head lifts, and he reaches out to push her hair away from her face. His fingertips linger along the shell of her ear, sending surprising new shivers through her. He smirks, pleased, and Caroline thinks he's cataloging her reaction for later exploitation.

Klaus is an opportunist like that.

"Perhaps you should wait before making such a sweeping statement, love. I find myself of half a mind to attempt to revisit making you beg. You sound so very tempting when you do."

"After I was so nice to you? Mean."

"Hmm. You may have a point. I do want you to invite me somewhere new, after all."

Caroline snorts, "That's kind of a given at this point, Klaus."

His eyes sharpen, grow calculating. "And I do believe that you indicated I could invite you somewhere, did you not?"

She strives for nonchalance, but it's hard when her shrug leaves them more tightly entangled, "I think it's only fair."

"I don't want to wait another year, Caroline."

Her breath catches, her eyes widening, at him saying it so plainly. She wouldn't have, even though she agrees. "So don't. Here, how about we make rule three. If it's too much I'll say no. If you don't want to come see me, if you can't for whatever reason, you'll say no too. I know you have things going on, a ton of stuff in disarray. That your family is… a lot. It might happen. We agree to try not to take it personally, okay?"

He nods, his expression considering. "We can try that," he agrees.

She's sure there will be kinks to be worked out, and she expects that the gaps between encounters will grow shorter and shorter as they pile up. And maybe that's for the best. They'll get to know each other, away from his crazy family, and her judgmental friends, before they attempt to fit their lives together.

She's beginning to suspect it'll be easy, in the end. That the trips will bleed together and one day she'll wake up alone and hate it.

She'll take the next plane out and show up at his door, move all of her stuff into his room and reorganize his closet. They'll fight about it, because they're both kind of particular. And they both enjoy riling the other up.

It maybe won't be exactly what he'd meant, all those years ago. Not as swoon-y and romantic, more real. They hadn't really known each other then, they're still just in the beginning stages now.

They're immortal, so who knows how long it will take to reach the middle, or what that will even be like. She's oddly comfortable with him now, secure in the fact that there's nothing she could do, save for betray him in some way – and that's just not in her, not with people she cares for – that would disgust him or make him turn away.

She's not afraid of him leaving her, knows he doesn't choose people lightly.

There will be no end, once she's decided. It's difficult to contemplate, the idea of forever when she's lived only a third of a lifetime.

Caroline will get there, likely sooner than she'd ever anticipated. Klaus will be waiting when she does.