DISCLAIMER : All characters you recognise belong to the writers of the show.


She had found him sitting in his usual spot against the bar.

He swirled a sliver of ice on his tongue and gripped his tumbler of whiskey lightly; there'd be no indication that he tensed as soon as she eased herself on the neighbouring stool. She has arrived. This should have been a momentous occasion had it not been so suspiciously soon. "Why?" he asked, ignoring the blatant curiosity of another opinionated blonde standing behind the counter as she watched the pair, her fingers playing nervously with a rag.

His eyes lingered on Camille very briefly before he turned back to her, because an artist can only appreciate an excellent forgery from afar, but the lure of the original is gravity of a kind. Centuries of existence may not have bestowed him with sense, but it did give him the shrewdness to know what exactly he wants.

"Why not?" He smiled as the original blonde shot the words at him instinctively. He did like how his mind now referred to her; it appealed to the strategist in him who has been meticulously planning her space in his future. "Let me amend then, love. Why now?"

"You should have killed him. Tyler, I mean." He smiled again, recalling his little rendezvous with the enthusiastic puppy. It was going just as he had planned with the little 'mercy' he had allowed at the end. He remembered how he had contemplated as he restrained the snarling hybrid - she would come to him either way, he had been sure; screaming and raging mad if he had killed the mutt or indignantly scoffing at his arrogance if he did not. And as has been established, he has always been a shrewd man with an uncanny talent to make the chips fall his way. Besides, if she had come screaming, he would have killed her, as beautiful as she is.

"Caroline, I never thought I'd be calling you out on inconsistency so soon into your vampire life." He sneered, yet her face remained so clear of any telling signs that he was disappointed. It was similar to the face he had left in the woods where he had promised never to seek her out again followed by several rounds of what she had once dubbed as 'hot hybrid sex'. Of course, naïve little girl that she was, she pitifully believed he was a man of his words. Humans make promises because they wither and expire; but he had no intention of carrying fragile baggage of vows through eternity. "Sweetheart, even if I knew your refreshing sentiments prior to his little visit, I am afraid the outcome would have been same. Now, why don't you tell me why is it that you want him dead?"

She had busied herself with the pink bauble that hung from her phone as he spoke but was now looking at him in her usual direct eye contact. "I had never had any reason to want him dead, even when he chose revenge over me. I want him dead because he chose peace. Which you, Klaus, denied him." Yet the characteristic glare was absent which made him wonder if this leniency was a product of the sex in the woods - something he considered only a glimpse of what's to come but perhaps had a bigger meaning to her and her still-human mind. She looked at him with an expression akin to empathy, which he would have capitalized upon any other time. "You said it yourself, he wanted death. But you were also wrong, he did deserve to have that peace after all he has been through. You were seeking revenge on a broken man who wanted nothing but freedom at your hands."

His face hardened, not betraying the shock that her words and her soft lilting tone delivered to him. He had spouted those words to mutt as part of mind games he often liked to play with his prey, to plant seeds of all kind of philosophical extremes which made them run amok with questions on their existence. Yet now he was confronted with the idea that he had psychoanalysed the boy unknowingly, which didn't sit with him at all. He was the maker of whatever Tyler Lockwood is and whatever he would become; he had no intention of being the pup's mind reader. "You surprise me yet again, love; as fiercely as you defend your suicidal doppelgänger; why the campaign for euthanasia for Tyler?"

"Tyler can still die by other ways if he wants, Klaus." She started, and he tried to look past the age that her eyes now reflected. It were the eyes that she only ever looked at him with in those rare moments of honesty; he curiously found them similar to many of his comrades through centuries, aged by time and wealth of knowledge. "But it was that moment when you could have given him real mercy. You could have killed him like you always do; it would have hardly made you more of a killer than you already are." She paused and he waited for the anger and the hurt to come pouring out like acid in his ears; he was almost eager for the scathing dose of honesty out of the lips he had ravaged just weeks ago. But it never came as she continued her cruel words in the same eerily empathetic tone. "You are supposed to be a killer, Klaus. But you are not just killing, are you? You are a destroyer. You wanted to destroy Tyler but not because you want to prove that he means nothing to you."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Caroline." He spoke through gritted teeth. Honesty he appreciated but her trying to put him into neat boxes didn't settle well with him. Why he didn't just give up on her, he asked himself every day. "Be assured that Tyler or anyone else from your paltry town do mean nothing to me. Look around you, where you are. What makes you think I want to spare a thought on the Lockwood boy?"

"The fact that you didn't kill him is proof enough, Klaus." He snorted at her presumptions and downed his now warm whiskey to keep himself from angrily retorting. "It's because you were jealous."

Her face didn't even change when he let out a low sarcastic laugh at her statement. He amused himself by thinking that maybe something witchy caused the young vampire to permanently adopt the passive mien. The deep breath she took was an audible pause before she continued, "Because it was so easy for him. You were jealous that it was so easy for him to come to you, without a white oak stake, all prepared to be killed. That he could decide to seek the peace he deserved. You, with all your agendas of getting what you want, never have the luxury to demand peace, do you? There is not even possibility of someone being merciful to you so you refused Tyler the same." The last bit also came in the low, soft voice that he had come to hate. And of which he has had enough.

"If you have come here to preach psychology, Caroline, I suggest you leave. This city has many troubles that need my particular attention, which none of you or your little Mystic Falls' squabbles deserve." He slipped the glass tumbler back to Camille who looked terrified, perhaps of what Klaus might to the young blonde vampire who had crossed the Klaus Limit of Patience a long while back. He only nodded his head at her in acknowledgement which reduced the alarm on the human girl's face as she was assured he was in control of himself.

Paying not even a glance at the other young woman whose face he had been drawing in his dreams and on paper every day since that day when he had drawn birds on her skin intimately; Klaus strode out of the establishment but couldn't move beyond five feet from the entrance. He angrily wondered why he still lingered but he knew he had spent too much time with her for her to go undetected. He should kill her and save himself the trouble, but he would not allow any other killer to get near that still-human heart or the strawberry-smelling neck. He would make a promise this time, to himself and not to her, that once he escorts her out of the city limits, Caroline Forbes would be a forgotten memory.

She came out mere seconds later, staring right at him as if she knew very well that he'd be waiting. "Klaus." She whispered, in the little girl voice he often dream of corrupting, of making it dark and frightening. Oh, what potential this headstrong girl had, of being the fallen angel right beside him; destroyed and remade by him. But the little girl also came with the vicious woman who enjoyed cutting him through which is why he had every intention to pull out that sharp tongue if it makes another appearance.

"What?" He asked harshly.

"I would have done that if it were you." She caught his hand and cupped the fist he had subconsciously balled the appendage into between her two small hands. "I would have killed you if it were you." She first brought his fist to her mouth, her breath ghosting over his knuckles but her lips never touching his skin, and then released his hand to fall back to his side.

Her actions fueled his anger, for he refused to allow her to fuck with his mind. "I was there each time you tried, love. I can't possibly misunderstand that you and your musketeers wish me dead, even if you let me take you against a tree. I am sure you would try again and fail again, because remember this Caroline, I can't be killed." She looked at him with such pity that he wanted to rip her heart out right there and then but like the fool he has been the entire evening, his hand never shot out to grab her undead heart.

"If you could be killed, if you wanted to die, Klaus, I would have killed you." With those last words, she disappeared; and while he could hear her feet pounding the earth as she ran at the speed of light and smell her scent through the maze of buildings she had made her way out of, Klaus didn't follow her.

How could he, for he had nothing to say to her. Any human above the age of thirty would tell you that in this world when one gives you something, you are required to give something in return. Americans aptly put it as there being no free lunches in the world, there being no unconditional exchanges. He has lived thirty years thirty times over in his existence, and so he knew why he had nothing to say to her. He had nothing yet to give her back.

Because Caroline, beautiful, strong, full of light, had just offered Klaus Mikaelson mercy.


This is my first time writing a one-shot. I hope you enjoy!

I have plans of making this multi-chapter (though not probably a proper story form) if it proves to be at least readable. Criticism, suggestions and ideas are most welcome! ^^