When Caroline had learnt that her brother-in-law Kol's birthday was fast approaching, she had immediately gone to Klaus with plans of a birthday party for the second youngest Original.

Klaus reaction had been, quite simply,

"No."

"Klaus! It's Kol's fifteen hundredth birthday! That's a milestone to be marked and we should celebrate it!"

"Darling," Klaus sighed as he moved to caress her cheek, "Kol is not one for birthday gatherings. They typically end up with him infamously drunk and attempting to sleep with every member of the female population."

"He does that on a daily basis, Klaus."

"And he doesn't need a formal excuse to practice its excess on the day of his unfortunate birth into this world."

"He's your brother."

"Yes, he is. Which is also why I kept him daggered for a century."

"You celebrate Elijah's birthday just fine. And Rebekah's and mine. Hell, you even celebrated Finn's birthday even though he's dead."

"That sweetheart, is because I actually have a shred of respect for Elijah. Rebekah's was forced unto me-you know perfectly well she would have badgered me to no end until I gave her what she wanted and as for you darling," Klaus looked up at her, eyes filled with adoration and love, "is because every day of your life should be celebrated. I can't think of a day in my life in which I don't want to celebrate the very breath you take, and the fact that you choose to spend those minutes of your life beside mine, though I do like to think of myself as particularly entertaining" Klaus chuckled, a wicked smile then flashing "especially in the bedroom," he added with a twinkle, enjoying the way Caroline blushed and leaned into him. Smiling down, he saw her blue eyes before pressing his lips to her own; she moaned and Klaus reveled in her kiss…every one of them set his body on fire. Suddenly, he felt her lips leave his and a demand upon them; he sighed before his eyes flashed once more and his tone was business like again. "Finn's birthday was something of a remembrance for how useless a vampire could be. If anything, it was done to please Elijah."

"As sweet as that is," Caroline smirked as she moved back to Klaus (because even in agitation she couldn't resist her husband) "that's not getting you off the hook. We're giving Kol a party."

Klaus rolled his eyes, "love, you don't even like him."

"No," Caroline admitted, "but he deserves to have celebrate at least one birthday here with his family and not off in Vegas with a couple of stripper whores."

"I think he'd prefer that more," Klaus noted drily as he thought to his…rambunctious younger brother. Gently pressing Caroline's body to him, Klaus studied his lover; eyes intent before his face broke out into a condescending smirk. "And this is because of that little comment Rebekah made, isn't it, love?"

"What? No!" Caroline defended easily, trying her best to suppress her blush. "This has to do with me wanting to plan a nice little celebration for your brother."

"And also to show up Rebekah, no doubt. Come love," Klaus coaxed, "she's a petty little thing. Always infuriating others with skill that she doesn't possess-you have achieved the highest status of event planning and if my word doesn't convince you, then the wedding you planned for that damned Salvatore and the doppelgänger should be evidence enough."

"I want to plan Kol's birthday because I want to know that my hybrid lover's brother is getting something out of life instead of just booze and women. As sad as it is, he holds those two things up to heights I don't even want to consider." Caroline snapped, her fingers tapping on her arm impatiently as her diamond reflected a myriad of colors under the glowing chandelier light.

A faint smile appeared on Klaus's face, "and just what did you have in mind, sweetheart?"

"A party. A big blow out party, somewhere in Los Angeles. Or Miami. We could celebrate it at the beachfront house we have in Miami, the garden's stadium is large enough to hold as many people as we want to invite and we could even get a stage and have some singers to perform. It'll be nice," Caroline insisted, her face already beaming with the thought of a Miami night party, "and there'll be lanterns and candles everywhere; I could even get Christine to whip up a cake or something."

Klaus considered it; he knew if he went along with his love's plan, it'd result in somewhere between a romantic sea swept love making session or a disaster which included Kol's own head on a spike courtesy of Klaus himself. It was a heated internal debate in which the thousand and five hundred year old hybrid saw no other way around: he'd have to bargain.

"Vampires only, love."

Caroline frowned, "but what about the singers? They're human! We can't not have entertainment just because Kol can't control himself around a pretty face," as soon as the words left her mouth, she paused. Kol sleeping (and then possibly killing) some of the hottest acts of today would look slightly suspicious on the radar and Caroline was not in the mood to have Klaus send his hybrids off to compel their agents to make up some false story about how they all just happened to OD on coke. She frowned, "actually, that's a good idea. In fact, let's throw in a few werewolves for good measure. I'm sure Tyler wouldn't mind us borrowing a few from his pack."

Klaus sneered, the mention of his former hybrid minion still brought him to irritation-the ungrateful peasant he was! Klaus had given him a potential in life, he'd given him the power to lead his hybrid army and instead, the worthless dog had simply throw it all away in a vain attempt to overthrow him. Fool. He knew Caroline was still oddly fond of the wolf boy, even though Klaus had desecrated his twelve hybrids (the ones he had now were much more obedient) and nearly ripped Tyler's heart out; it'd once again been his blonde angel who'd prevented it. Never would Klaus admit his adoration for Caroline's humanity, but during times of rage and incessant pestering, the hybrid in Klaus wanted nothing more to tear limbs from his enemy's (or agitator's) body until what stood before him was a piling of flesh and bone, intertwined in some odd stack of death.

The thought was dark and Klaus knew from Caroline's face she could sense his train of thought, but that mattered little to him (or that's what he told himself, though he knew better)-Caroline had accepted his hatred for Tyler long ago. He'd never even considered the wolf boy's face up until this moment but the very idea that his Caroline would ever even consider degrading herself to even asking the pitiful little hybrid for the smallest favor somehow drew up a protectiveness and severe bloodlust that Klaus had kept under for his lover's sake.

Caroline herself was half exasperated, half amused by Klaus's contemplation of Tyler's well being. Though Klaus's internal debate took less than half a second, she knew he was contemplating on whether or not to visit Tyler himself and send the hybrid down to Hades a few years too early. And to do so without risking her rage (although she wouldn't be too mad at the thought of Tyler gone).

She smirked.

"Klaus, I'm going to ask him and you're not coming."

That caused the Original's head to snap up, those cobalt blue eyes of his narrowing. "No."

"Come on Klaus, we both know that Tyler's not going to hurt me knowing that I'm with you now. He'd never risk getting his head ripped off now that he's finally got Hayley and the pack."

A bitter laugh filled the air, "darling, you don't know how wrong you are. He's a vengeful little thing, Tyler is; he wouldn't hesitate to try and take you away from me now that he believes you've somehow misled him during the relationship in which he faltered."

The blonde shook her head, "that's not the point, Klaus. You know I can handle myself, even if that means bringing along a sword or two and stabbing him a couple of times."

"Then what is the point, love?"

"To see him again. He may be my ex, Klaus, but he's also been my friend since I was four years old." Caroline crossed her arms, "I don't like the fact that he's out to get my head off my shoulders and then try to kill off my unkillable husband." Caroline gave Klaus a smile and he knew instantly that flattery was up her alley, not that he didn't enjoy her playful ways and ardor, but the fact she was even willing to see the wolf's face annoyed him.

"And if I said no you request…?"

Her own blue eyes flashed, "then you're not touching me for a week. Solid."

Niklaus Mikaelson would never admit it, but his wife was a skilled little diplomat (even though most of her deals were as shady as his), and though he was frequently proud of his little blonde, he couldn't help, at times like these, to resent her skills at negotiation.

In the end, he relented. Only on the terms that Tyler come to them, and not they to him; the fact was, Klaus enjoyed holding a certain amount of power over people, whether it be as major as their souls or minor as them standing under his roof. He enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Do you think he'll wake up?" Elena asked, her foot gently nudged Kol's shoulder as he laid star splayed with a barely dressed vamp hanging off of either arm and a bottle of centuries year old Russian vodka in his right hand, the liquid slowly creeping out. The entire bash had been held in Miami, complete with fifteenth century torches, Hawaiian dancers, performances by the hottest performers money could buy (or hybrids could compel), and a bonfire the size of Los Angeles upon the pristine white sand of Miami Beach.

Kol had went wild upon making his entrance from the top of the marble steps leading down to the beach; the Mikaelson Seaside Manor was ablaze with golden Christmas lights and fiery Hawaiian torches as waitresses in bikinis walked about serving drinks. A bar made of bamboo and leis rested on every compass point while the ocean breeze scented the air; Caroline had truly outdone herself in making a sleazy, yet incredibly inviting event for the birthday of Kol Mikaelson.

Now however, as the Originals and their respective partners (along with Damon and Elena) peered over Kol's body, they seemed reluctant to remove him from the now desolate scene. Half of the party goers had managed to stumble back to their cars, whilst the other half had simply dropped down on the beach to sleep. The compelled waitresses had weaved through the randomly fallen bodies, placing blankets and pillows over and under them; the amount of alcohol drunk was astonishing and Klaus knew Kol wouldn't stop until he passed out.

He got his request.

Damon easily kicked the bottle from Kol's hands as he looked down at the second youngest Original with a sneer. "The guy needs to learn to control his liquor."

Rebekah glared at the elders Salvatore, "you try drinking through nine barrels of strong vodka and stand to tell the tale, Damon."

He shrugged as Elena looked genuinely concerned for the state of the brash vampire; Klaus simply couldn't contain his amused smirk at the expense of his younger brother. He knew this would happen-he simply knew it; once Kol was in the mood, he couldn't be taken out of the mood until someone either a) threatened him to the point of actual fear or b) he passed out unconscious. It was usually the latter.

"Come now, love," Klaus stated as he chuckled under his breath, "he'll be fine. Just wait in the morning when he comes about, you'll wish he'd stayed here unconscious."

Stefan couldn't help but laugh, earning him a glare from Rebekah who was tucked under his arm. "He'll be fine." Stefan laughed as he nodded towards the Manor, "I don't know why we're all standing out here when there's an empty mansion up there."

"That's because none of you will be lodging in our house, thank you very much." Klaus proclaimed as he pulled Caroline closer towards him, "I've reserved penthouse suites for the both of you at the Ritz and Setai, respectively." He gave a pointed glance at Rebekah, "I'm sure you'll know which one's for which."

"We know, Nik," Rebekah rolled her eyes, "we practically built the Setai."

Miami nights were known for their smoky heat, the lights from the bustling cities, strips from the never ending waves of taxi cabs and high class luxury cars, splatters from the boutiques that lined the palm way pavements and the golden glow from the corporate buildings that stood guard over their city. The cries of Miami at night were not to be shut out by anyone, only to be increased by crescendos from those who wished to express the fact that they were indeed in Miami.

And so, when a man named Niklaus Mikaelson purchased a beachfront mansion that was at quite a distance from the city, people continually questioned his choice. It wasn't until a real estate developer by the name of Candice Lee passed by the manor one night after the blowout soiree for the Mikaelson's youngest brother that she finally understood the clever tact of the mysterious man. The moans and cries were loud and passionate, low and deep; the words that soared from the open window were absolutely soaked in sex and love, to the degrees which made the birds blush. The sounds of breaking wood and battered plaster may have signaled abuse, but those cries of sweet pleasure had been enough to alert any one man with an ounce of thought in them that the couple in the beach house far from Miami, were indeed enjoying every ruckus and cry made at that point. Or, at least the symphony created by themselves.