A/N: I don't know what this is. It began as a spark — merely a couple sentences of dialogue — and grew quite exponentially as I explored more of the context of that spark.

Then it just got out of hand…

New Orleans: my favourite city (of the ones I've visited). Okay, perhaps it is tied with New York City for the honour of first place. And yes, I've never ventured outside of the continental US. But seriously, I love this city.

I've been here for a few years now — just don't ask me exactly how long I've been staying here for; I easily lose count when I don't need to be aware of the passing of time — and I'm still discovering new places and new attractions.

I spend most of my time in the French Quarter. It's the easiest place for someone like me live.

That's an odd phrase, isn't it: "someone like me"? Putting aside all that "we're all unique and special and wonderful and there is only one you" crap, there are quite a few creatures like me. And yes, 'creature' is the correct term there. Though I feel that the word 'being' sounds a bit less harsh.

I'm a vampire.

Seriously.

You may not believe me — that's okay. It does sound like the contents of a bad novel. I'm not disagreeing with you.

But it's true.

I bet quite a few things you think of as 'fictional' are actually true. Such as witches. And magic. And werewolves. Yes, I really do mean werewolves — as in turn-by-the-full-moon werewolves. (I'm not sure if the weakness-to-silver part of their folklore is true, but the full moon bit definitely is.)

But I'll let you discover more about those lovely treasures on your own. Right now, this is about my observations.

As I said, I spend most of my time in the French Quarter of New Orleans; when I'm not attending classes at university, that is. Here in the Quarter, I don't have to hide who I am or what I am. And there are others here, too, just like me; lots of us. (Though I'm one of the rare 'common' vampires who can go outside during the day. Those loyal to and part of the inner circle of our self-titled 'king' — and therefore are not 'common' vampires — have the ability, as well, but I'm not one of those vampires. I've only had that ability for a few months, hence why I'm still learning about the city I've called home for a few years now.)

Yes, that part of vampire mythology is true: we cannot go out into the sunlight. We burn. Quite a painful experience, fyi.

(The garlic, the crucifixes, the water, the mirrors, the bats, and the flying are all untrue. Let me know of any other aspects of vampirism in folklore and I'll tell you if they're true or not.)

But I'm newly no longer restricted to the nighttime. Now that I can walk around in the sunlight, I've started taking classes at the University of New Orleans. (I was turned into a vampire when I was 20, so I can easily play the part of either a teenager or a young adult.) I'm a psychology major. That's where I met Cami. She's in several of my classes and — thanks to her — we now work together, too.

Though she is the only reason I have this job. I took it to keep an eye on her. She's human, but she spends most of her time in the French Quarter, too. That's dangerous enough on its own. But when you consider the fact that she has no idea about what I am, or any of our fellow citizens, it's even more dangerous for her. So I do what I can to protect her.

And she has no clue.

I can't properly explain why I do what I can to protect her, mostly because I'm not sure if I believe it myself. But another reason is friendship, obviously, on some level — I may have been told (or forced) to look out for her, but we've spent enough time together that we've become friends; she's actually pretty cool, for a human. And maybe because I want to save her from ending up like me — which is entirely possible, given where we live. (Well, either turned or drained: those are the usual endings for humans when vampires are nearby.)

But enough backstory.

I was at the bar one night (or early morning, depending on how you look at — but since I hadn't slept yet, I still call it night.) We had just closed down. Cami collected the garbage and took it to the dumpster out back. I heard a door open and close and foolishly assumed it was the back door, signalling Cami's return.

It was not.

In strolled Marcel. (He's the self-title 'King of the French Quarter' I mentioned earlier. He's also a vampire, in case that wasn't clear.) He had been in earlier that night when the place was packed. I was relieved to see him leave, but apparently my quasi-celebration of his absence was premature, because he had now returned. Maybe he never left; maybe he just hung around nearby until the other patrons left. (Though Marcel isn't the type who would wait around for anyone except himself. He'd probably force, or strongly suggest, the others to leave, if that was what he wanted.)

Either way, I was not pleased to see him return. Him, the supposed 'great leader' of our kind in this city; ruler of this city.

Most annoyingly, I have been seeing him here quite frequently as of late.

Normally, a regular doesn't bother me. I'm not that nice, but I can fake it while I'm working. But when Marcel comes here, he always focuses his attention on Cami. And I do not trust a king vampire with my human friend.

"Evening." His greeting was accompanied with a curt nod.

"Hello."

Marcel seems to take great pleasure in walking into an establishment and having everyone know his name. (And maybe tremble a little with fear and awe, too.) So in turn, I do whatever I can to never speak his name. At least not to his face —not that I've ever had the 'pleasure' of truly speaking with him, anyway.

I went back to straightening the chairs and wiping down the tables.

"Where's your friend? The cute blonde one?"

As if I needed clarification as to whom he was looking for…

The sound of his voice told me that he was still leaning against the bar. "She's around." I was purposely being as vague as possible. Why should I give him details? He may think he rules this city, but he's not my leader.

"What's her name?"

I rolled my eyes, but my head was down and facing away from him as I wiped off the table top, so I doubt he saw me.

Marcel is apparently interested in Cami now. I nearly shuddered to think why.

I dropped the cleaning cloth onto the table top and faced Marcel. "If she wants you to know her name, she'll tell you." It wasn't that Cami didn't want him to know her name — I knew she enjoyed the attention he paid to her; she had just never had the time or the opportunity to tell him her name. And apparently he hadn't noticed her nametag.

What a genius!

He rushed at me. He was older and much faster; I barely saw him coming. My back slammed into the wall as he grabbed my throat and squeezed. It wasn't too painful; it was just awkward and uncomfortable.

"You do not speak to me that way. Now tell me what I want to know."

I bet he so wished he could compel me to tell him.

Before I could respond, we heard footsteps approaching. He dropped his hand, allowing me to stop standing on the very tips of my toes against the wall.

Marcel ran this town — he practically owned it. I should know better than to sass him, but I couldn't help it. He aggravated me so much.

And now he had his sights set on Cami? As if I would help him out there!

The person who entered the bar was not Cami, as I had expected. It was the new guy. The werewolf who, through magic, was turned into one of the Original Vampires. (As in, first vampires ever.) He was the Hybrid. He was Klaus.

I had heard stories. And idle chatter. It was impossible not to.

Now either Marcel was impressed by his reputation or had history with him, because Klaus wasn't in town even two days before he was making appearances with Marcel.

Klaus raised an eyebrow; he seemed to have suspected what he walked in on, but he didn't draw attention to it.

I rubbed my neck as I stepped further away from Marcel, trying to rub away any feeling of him on me; his touch definitely gave me the creeps.

"What can I get you?" I asked, not really directing my question to either of them specifically as I grabbed the cleaning cloth from where I left it on a table. I just wanted a reason to move even further away from Marcel. It didn't even matter to me that, at that moment, the place was technically closed.

"Scotch," Klaus said.

"Make than two," Marcel added.

I nodded to Klaus — not acknowledging Marcel's comment at all — and moved behind the bar, where I put the cloth away and went about pouring their drinks.

Just as I set their scotch glasses down on the bar, I heard the back door open and close; I knew it would be Cami this time.

It was.

She actually looked happy to see Marcel had come back. But what girl doesn't appreciate the presence of a man who pays attention to her.

"There she is." The glare and angry stares that Marcel had sent my way just minutes ago were completely gone, replaced by a smile for Cami. "Just who I came to see."

I played it up. "Oh, I'm hurt."

I could tell, just from Marcel's lack of reaction, that he knew Cami was ignorant of what we all were. I was surprised he wasn't turning this into a spectacle; he did everything else in such a grandiose and pompous manner.

Cami laughed and I moved to the far end of the bar to count our tips. She made small chat with Marcel as he leaned against the bar while she wiped it down from the other side — a task she had already completed prior to taking out the garbage. Klaus remained quiet, standing back a bit.

"How'd we do tonight?" Cami asked.

I didn't have to look up to know that her question was directed to me. I could hear that she was facing my direction as she spoke and not looking at Marcel in that moment. I glanced over at her gave a shrug as I responded: "Tips were quite plentiful."

"I don't doubt that, what with The Hundred Dollar guy hanging around." She gestured towards Klaus.

I looked over at him and found his eyes on me. Was he watching me? "Odd nickname."

"Odd guy," Marcel turned and clapped Klaus on his shoulder.

Klaus clenched his jaw and gave a fake smirk. He seemed to be swallowing back his real reaction.

"So how do you two know each other?" Marcel asked. He sort of wiggled his index finger around, pointing to the space between Cami and me. "Other than working here?"

"What makes you think we know each other outside of this bar?"

Cami gave me a light scoff. "Would it kill you to be nice once in a while?"

I put a horribly fake smile on my face. "It might."

If it were up to me, I would have let him believe that Cami and I only knew each other from work, but Cami was nothing if not brutally honest. Normally, it was a quality about her that I greatly enjoyed. But not when it meant she would be divulging information about me to someone like Marcel; someone who I wanted to know as little about me as possible.

She turned her attention to Marcel. "We go to school together. Psych majors."

I smiled slightly at her enthusiasm, but finished counting our tips. There is over $1000 here! Not too bad for a weeknight.

"Wow," I looked to Cami. "We did well. Over two thousand bucks in tips." I fanned the collection of bills out in front of me.

She took a halted step in my direction. "What!?" She was always shocked at the 'total' we could rake in.

"Yea." I quickly shifted the bills into a neat pile, folded in it half, and gave it to her. "Here's your half."

"Wow!" She grabbed her 'share' of the tips from me and turned to Marcel and Klaus. "You guys can keep coming back every night, if you'll bring us tips like this." She pocketed her wad of cash.

I rolled my eyes. Don't encourage them, C!

But despite her cluelessness as to what Klaus, Marcel, and I really were, I smiled at how excited Cami was to hear how much we made in tips. Okay, so it was an exaggeration, but she doesn't need to know that. She often tells me how she never makes as much in tips as she does when we work together.

If only she knew.

I rarely keep any of the tip money. I count it, double that total to tell her what we made, and then give all the cash to her. She needs the money more than I ever will. And as a vampire, I have other ways of getting the things I need. Money isn't the only thing we vampires have to help us get what we want.

I stifled a yawn as I put the tip container back on the shelf underneath the bar. "I'm tired. Ready to head out?" I asked Cami.

She shook her head. "I'm going stay here for a bit." I knew she really meant stay and chat with Marcel. She gestured to Marcel and Klaus. "Plus, they're still working on their drinks."

"Right. I can hang around and help you, then."

"No, don't worry." She tried to act casual as she told me to leave. "You go ahead. The work is all done; I just have to close up when they're done."

I hesitated as I reached for my things. "Are you sure?"

I saw Marcel, who was just behind Cami in my line of sight, nodding to me, telling me to leave.

Just as if I were one of his followers and he was giving me orders. Whatever!

"Yes, now go," Cami said with a smile. "Good night."

I sighed. When Cami set her mind to something, there really was no changing it. "Okay. Night." I didn't want to leave her there with Marcel — I didn't trust him with her — but what could I do? I suppose I could force her to leave, but that would be a direct defiance of Marcel and would have looked really weird to Cami. I wanted to avoid both those things.

Too bad Cami's black belt won't be much help against Marcel, should he attack.

I grabbed my stuff and exited the bar, ignoring Marcel's pitiful attempt at sending a "bye" in my direction. I stepped outside and took in a deep breath through my nose, grateful for the fresh air. I had only taken two or three steps when Klaus fell in step beside me.

I crossed my arms against my chest in annoyance as I continued walking home, and since I had no intention of otherwise acknowledging his presence, he was forced to speak first. "I saw what you did in there."

"Oh, really?" So he was watching me?

"I'm curious as to why."

I scoffed. "And what do you think you saw?"

"You gave all the tip money to the other girl. You didn't keep any for yourself."

I noticed that he walked with his hands at his sides — not behind his back, which is where they often rested when he stood still, and not in his pockets as some people do; they his arms crossed either, as mine were. His hands were at his sides; it was such a normal walking posture that it seemed out of place for someone as old as him.

"Well spotted."

"Do you do that often?"

I let out a soft sigh, surprised that I found myself gearing up to tell him the truth. Weird. "Not that it is any of your business — in any way — but yes."

He turned his gaze more fully on me. "Why?"

Enough of his questions; time for one of my own. "Why are you following me?"

He chuckled. "I'm not. We didn't have a chance to chat inside; I'm merely rectifying that."

"And what makes you think that wasn't in purpose?"

"Optimism, I suppose."

I actually laughed, slightly, at that. An optimist vampire?

I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me. "Why did you give her all the money?"

I shrugged. Back to his agenda of questions I see. "Money bores me. And I don't need it. I can compel a human, when necessary."

He nodded once at that. "So why is a vampire working as a waitress?"

I stopped walking. "Excuse me, but I'm a bartender-slash-waitress." I pointed at him. "Get it right."

He placed a hand against his chest, in true fake gentlemanly fashion. "My apologies."

"And the why is none of your business." I resumed walking.

"I know. But call it curiosity. As you said, you don't need the money."

I shrugged. "It passes the time."

"There are much better ways to put in time, love."

Was he going to suggest some for me?

"Well, I haven't found many of those yet. And as long as C works here, I probably will too."

"Yes, you do seem rather protective of her." He spoke as though he was thinking out loud.

I nodded. "Even more since Marcel started paying attention to her. What's he up to?"

He returned my shrug. "Playing with a human, possibly. I never asked."

I crossed my arms again and glared at that notion. "I don't trust him with her."

"Brave of you to say such a thing." His tone held a hint of a chuckle.

"Yes, I know. If the wrong vampire overhears me — or a witch, trying to improve his or her standing with Marcel — I could end up meeting the sharp end of a stake or having my heart removed from my chest. Or having my head removed completely…" I trailed off, stopping myself from imagining other ways Marcel could end my life. Whatever he did, he would do it in the streets; he makes a show of everything.

"Am I not the wrong sort of vampire?"

"Asked the Hybrid."

He smirked at that.

"You're not one of Marcel's loyal followers," I said plainly.

"I'm not?"

"No." Could he make it any more obvious? "You spend time with him, and at the very least you seem to have been invited into his inner circle, but you're not someone I would describe as a 'follower.' Of anyone, actually."

"You're quite observant."

"Though why I feel that I can speak freely to you is mind-boggling even to me." Oops. Did I say that out loud?

"Since you're so comfortable around me, can I at least know you name?"

"No."

"Come on now, love. It seems only fair. This comfort level should come with a first-name basis."

"Perhaps you're right. Call me A."

"'A'? Really? I only get one letter?" He tilted his head, trying to capture my gaze again.

I scoffed at his attempt. "That's more than you've earned, Klaus."

"Now there seems to be quite an imbalance between us: you know my name; you clearly know more about me than I do about you."

"That's your problem then, isn't it? You're the Original. You're the one who comes with a reputation. You know, you're not exactly inconspicuous."

He chuckled and then changed the subject. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, for provoking Marcel earlier."

I rolled my eyes. He was starting to sound all-seeing. "You saw that, too, did you?"

He nodded.

"I've always believed there was only a fine line between the two."

"So why did you feel the need to aggravate him?"

I shrugged. "Because I enjoy near-death experiences. And because I can't stand him."

"You seem to straddle the line between bravery and stupidity."

I let out a humourless laugh.

"You don't appreciate what he's done for the city?"

"No. That's rather blunt, I know. I probably should, but I don't. He's turned the Quarter into a vampire fun zone: he banished the werewolves and has smothered the witches under his thumb. That's most likely quite good for vampires, but it doesn't feel right. It's – it's unnatural. Though, I've heard that a wolf bite is fatal to a vampire. Maybe Marcel does have all our best interests in mind — or perhaps just his own — I don't know, but the current set-up just seems off, or wrong, somehow."

"So you think they should return? The werewolves?" Why did an Original care so much for my opinion?

"Like I said, this current arrangement feels unnatural. But then I would be the optimist vampire if I hoped both species could live harmoniously in the same town, right?" I scoffed at the Disney-esque image that idea provoked in my brain. "What do I know; I'm just a baby vampire."

"Older doesn't necessarily equate with wiser, love."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"No personally, but yes." He obviously caught on quickly. Before I could contradict him, he spoke again. "Your friend seems brave."

I nodded. "She is. And smart."

"Yet she knows nothing about what you are."

I sighed. So he had picked up on that, too. "No, she has no clue about what's going on in this town, or about things that go 'bump' in the night."

"Why not enlighten her?"

I chuckled at the idea of me trying to explain to Cami that I was a vampire. Yes, that would go over quite well, I'm sure.

She'd probably want to have me committed.

"While I've never had to explain supernatural elements to anyone before, I imagine it is not a simple feat. And I'd prefer if she didn't think I were crazy."

"She might believe you to be crazy, but she'd be safer. Unless you already take other measures to add to her safety."

He wasn't asking, but I answered anyway. I couldn't shake the feeling that — for some bizarre — I could trust him.

How odd.

"I put vervain in her drinks whenever I can. I feel as though it is the least I can do."

Vervain is an herb that is poisonous to a vampire; when humans ingest it, they cannot be compelled by a vampire and their blood cannot be consumed by a vampire. I put it in Cami's drink so she cannot be taken advantage of by a vampire. In liquid form, vervain is clear and apparently is tasteless and odourless to a human. A witch told me that some vampires consume small amounts of vervain daily; it raises their tolerance to it and prevents them from being compelled, too. While a vampire cannot compel another vampire, an Original vampire can compel any other vampire. She advised me to start taking some, so I have been. It burns something fierce, but I've felt safer since I've started taking it.

"Why do you care so much about some measly human?" I could hear the disgust in his voice when he said the 'h' word.

"Wow," I responded with a slight chuckle. "It's call friendship. Maybe you should try it some time."

He didn't respond.

Have I struck a nerve?

"Aren't you friends with Marcel?"

"We were, once. A long time ago." He stared straight ahead as he spoke; his face was an emotionless stone mask.

"But you're friends again now, aren't you? You're here with him, after all." I was prying; I knew that, but I continue on with it anyway. He expressed his curiosity plenty, during our walk; why couldn't I?

Because I'm not an Original. Or the Hybrid.

I saw his jaw clench, but he didn't respond.

"Ooo, struck a nerve, have I?"

He slowly turned his head and glowered at me, menacingly. "I strongly advise that you quit while you're ahead, love. Or while you still have yours."

I glared back at him. "Are you seriously trying to put me in my place right now? Or reminding me of it?" I scoffed. "Whatever," I said with a wave of my left hand in a manner of indifference. "You're the one following me, here; it's not the other way around." I shook my head and scoffed again as I increased my speed of walking.

I didn't hear his footsteps, so the sound of his voice from directly behind me started me.

"How did you get a daylight ring?"

I turned my head slightly, to confirm that he was, indeed, right behind me. "A what?"

"Don't play foolish; it doesn't suit you. That ring," he pointed to the one on my left thumb. "Where did you get it?"

He can recognize what it is from such brief glimpses?

He increased his gait and was walking beside me as I responded. "From a witch."

"Obviously. Which one?"

I shook my head and looked away from him. "It doesn't matter; she's — she's dead now."

Marcel killed her. Publicly and brutally.

But that was how Marcel always did things. He made everything a show of force. I had never minded before, as I kept my distance from 'our ruler,' but I still had questions to ask of that witch. Questions that, I suppose, will now remain unanswered. I tried going to her sister, since we work together, but she was silent on the matter.

"Was it Jane-Anne Deveraux?"

My eyes flew back to his face. "How could you know that?"

"Lucky guess." He stopped walking, forcing me to stop and turn to face him. He certainly had my attention now. "Nearly coincidental, actually, since the entire reason I've returned to New Orleans was to speak with her."

"Really?"

He tilted his head slightly to the side. "Perhaps you knew that already?"

Now I was confused. "No. How would I?"

"What did she say to you about me?" He took a careful, controlled step closer to me.

What?! I shook my head, trying to determine the source of this new line of questioning. "Nothing."

"Then how do you know so much about me?"

Before I had a chance to even process his words, he grabbed my arms as he quickly and forcefully shoved me against the side of a nearby building and stepped in close.

Again?

First Marcel then Klaus.

I gotta stop pissing off creatures who are older than I am.

At least Klaus's hand wasn't wrapped around my throat. That was an improvement from my early Marcel incident. Klaus's hands were wrapped around my upper arms.

"How?" The word came out as a growl.

Despite the uncomfortable proximity, I rolled my eyes at him. "Because you come with a reputation that everyone knows or relates as you pass by." I pushed against his chest, moving him further away from me. I needed some space. But as I said, he's much older, so I'm sure he actually just let me move him.

(By the way, older equals stronger for vampires.)

"Because your name is synonymous with the founding and building of this city. And because you're an Original, and the Hybrid. How could any supernatural creature even remotely nearby not know who you are?"

His hands dropped from my upper arms to his sides. "So it's just a coincidence, then, that you the witch who made that ring for you was also the one who was planning a move against me?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. I don't know." I shook my head. "She's the one who approached me. She found me and gave the ring to me. I had no idea, before that moment, how Marcel and his followers were able to be out during the day."

My answer seemed to frustrate or infuriate him more. "Why? Why did she seek you out?"

I tried to find the words to explain this… But how does someone explain something that she does not fully understand herself. "Because she had some kind of prophecy about me, apparently." I sighed before continuing. "She made the ring for me to help me fulfil that prophecy. Look, I find this all rather hokey, but I'm not complaining about getting to be out during the daytime."

His eyes narrowed. "A prophecy about what?"

"It doesn't matter what."

"Tell me!" He yelled as he stepped closer again.

I stepped closer to him as I yelled back at him. "It's not about you!"

We were both shouting now.

I paused to take a breath, calm down, and stop yelling. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to find my patience so I wouldn't do something that would provoke him into decapitating me or something equally dreadful and life-ending.

I stepped out from the wall — also putting more space between us — and I only spoke again when I could do so in a much calmer tone. "I had never heard of you, or even knew there were such things as Original vampires — or Hybrids, for that matter — until you set foot back in this city. If this prophecy about me — or vision or whatever it's called — if it has any link to you, other than geographically, I have not heard about it."

I started walking again. He walked right beside me.

"What about the sister?"

Sophie. "I tried. She won't tell me anything. She says she doesn't know; she said prophecies were her sister's gift, not hers." I didn't think it wise to tell Klaus that I suspected Sophie was as clueless as she wanted me to believe; this was an edgy topic for him — I didn't want him to go after her.

He seemed to take a moment to calm himself, too. "Your prophecy involved your friend, then? You're protecting her?"

I didn't respond.

"Your lack of answer is answer enough."

I glared up at him. "Then why did you ask?"

He merely shrugged.

"Ugh! You are so frustrating sometimes!"

He chuckled and that annoying smirk remained plastered on his face.

I could see myself, eventually, getting annoyed with his attitude, should I find myself spending much time around him. That seemed unlikely in general, but since Marcel has been hanging out at the bar, and near Cami, and I'm allegedly supposed to 'protect' her, it seems like our paths have the potential to cross frequently.

Great! (With a groan, not enthusiasm.)

"Are you to protect her from Marcel?"

I shrugged. "Jane-Anne only said 'protect.' From who, or what, she never told me, despite how much or how often I asked. She said it was 'best' if I didn't know the details." I used air quotes around the word 'best' as I said it with a scoff. "How could that be for the best? Wouldn't I be more effective if I knew what or who to be wary of? Now I'm just a walking bubble of paranoia when it comes to her."

His chuckle at that made me realize that I really needed to stop rambling.

"You have quite the way with words, love."

I groaned inwardly. "If that translates to mean that I am awkward with them, then yes, I knew that already."

"I spent centuries being, as you say, a 'walking bubble of paranoia.' I still am in some ways."

"Hence why you think I'm out to get you, too?" I mumbled.

He ignored my comment/question. "I understand how much of a toll it takes a person."

"I imagine living for a thousand or so years would garner one quite a few enemies, over the years."

He never responded, leaving me to wonder if he was referring to something else. And while I was curious about that, I was also very tired — too tired to begin a new line of questions with him. We had already walked a block past my apartment building because I didn't want him to know where I lived.

I was trying to think of a way to leave him when he spoke again.

"You're supposed to protect her, and yet you just left her alone with Marcel."

"Yes." I gave a swift nod. "Because I'm supposed to protect her, not smother her. You saw her back there; she wanted to stay. I can't force her."

"You could, if you took her off the vervain."

I quirked an eyebrow, partially in humour, at that. "You must really think I'm stupid — or incredibly gusty. As if I could compel her right in front of Marcel. And even if I could find some sneaky way to compel her, he would know. He's not an idiot. Then he would kill me. And as I said earlier, I like having my head attached to my body."

He smirked and I found it incredibly annoying, yet again.

What goes on in that head of yours?

I halted my steps, deciding that I had walked far enough past my apartment building. You know, the place with my warm, comfy bed in it that I was desperate to return to. "Are we done yet?"

"Done what?" He tried to feign an innocent look, but he knew that I meant.

"Done whatever this is. Because I'm tired and I really want to go to sleep, but I can't do that until I get home, and I refuse to go there while you're still following me."

He chuckled, but appeared to comply with my non-direct request. He gave me a short nod and took a step back, away from me and back in the direction of the bar. "I'll see you around, sweetheart." He spoke with a smirk.

"Oh, I wait with baited breath."

"And perhaps you'll tell me the remainder of the letters that make up your name." He was still stepping backwards.

"Maybe I don't even have an 'a' in my name," I teased.

"Good night, love." He turned back and disappeared in the direction of the bar.

I twisted around and walked two blocks too far east of my building, making a large circle around it. When I did finally get home, I was never so happy to flop down on my bed.

A/N: I had a small, brief thought of writing a second part and bringing Caroline to New Orleans, but right now that second part would be terribly short.

Any thoughts?

Until I am struck with more inspiration on the subject, this one-shot will remain as a one-shot and will only be tagged for Klaus.