Frost glittered upon the grass, highlighting the opulent scenery of oversized candy canes, faux snowmen, and the entourage of reindeer sprawled decadently across the expansive lawn. The moon hung in the crisp, clear sky, swollen with reflective incandescence. Cars parked up and down the street, all pointing toward the one house that was clearly the happening spot for winter festivities. Clear decorative icicles lined the rooftop. The windows parted satin red curtains inside to reveal glowing golden warmth, candles, and people milling about with laughter in their eyes and a drink in one hand. But for the lack of snow, it was the perfect backdrop.
That was because Caroline Forbes knew how to throw the best parties in Mystic Falls. Nay, scratch that. She threw the best parties in Virginia, perhaps even the entire east coast. Nobody could come close to her meticulous planning and brimming passion. The décor was perfect, the music light and suitably Christmassy, and everybody appeared to be having a great time as she mingled, toasted, and laughed along with them.
So how was it that she, the former Miss Mystic Falls, host of Mystic Falls Christmas Splendor (as all parties needed a name and theme), was the only woman without a date?
Okay, that was a bit dramatic, Caroline conceded. She wasn't the only woman without a date. But she was the host, and it had been too long since she had a companion for a party. Not since prom had she gone solo unintentionally.
It certainly wasn't her attire. Caroline had told everyone to dress however they liked, so long as there were no holes, rips, or tears in the clothes, and a minimum of socks remained on the feet at all times. (Cleaning up after dozens of sweaty man feet? Ugh.) Most people chose to arrive in nice jeans and a clean shirt, but Caroline was the hostess. She went out of her way to deck herself out in a holly-green A-line dress with white trim, red sash around her waist, scarlet ribbons in her hair, and glittery white heels.
She was Fabulously Festive. A Happy Holiday Host. A Needed Noel Nancy.
Oh, god, even I'm making myself sick, she thought.
Caroline stepped into the kitchen for brief respite. Guests had chosen to mingle in there, as well, but at least it was somewhat minimized due to the smaller space. Open champagne bottles with thin red and green ribbons adorned the counter, all but one open. Lovely. Halfway into the party and already the makings for hangover mimosas in the morning were being depleted.
Without hesitation, Caroline turned to the nearest human pouring from an open bottle. It was a woman with dark hair in tight ringlets around her face. Looking into her eyes, Caroline put on her sweetest smile, even as the force of her compulsion began to take effect.
"Hey," she chirped. "Since you're the least sloshed and the one pouring, would you be a dear friend and run to the store for more champagne?"
One annoying thing about compulsion was that, sometimes, the human would still talk back. Though the girl's eyes were glassy, she mumbled, "But it's Christmas Eve. And nine."
Caroline patted her on the shoulder, never breaking the gaze. "I know you won't come back until you find some. Thanks!" As the girl began her dazed walk toward the guest room with all the coats and purses, Caroline called after her, "Dom Pérignon!"
Satisfied, she turned to head for the living room. It had been two hours since she'd last checked on the fireplace. The holiday spirit couldn't possibly remain uplifted without a cozy flame over which a certain pre-designated few could burst popcorn or roast chestnuts—if the latter was even a thing anymore.
Instead she bumped into her least-favorite vampire. Only catlike reflexes prevented either of them from spilling their drinks.
Damon Salvatore raised his glass in a solemn toast. His eyes—gorgeously blue, she had to admit that even if he as a person incurred more bile than desire in her throat these days—only slightly glazed from drink. His casual sardonic grin stretched his winsome mouth. "Yo, Barbie," said Damon. "Decent party. Could admittedly use some more O-negative donors, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Bee-Tee-Dubs, brought gin." He shoved a short, wide bottle into her hand before she could tell him where to put it—and she wouldn't have mentioned a thing about the kitchen.
But a second glance at the label changed her mind. "Wow. Top shelf. Color me genuinely surprised that you're willing to part with it." The bottle was even full, the seal unbroken.
Damon smiled with a lazy shrug. "Elena calls it getting in the Christmas spirit. I call it a waste on unappreciative, immature taste buds, but what can a guy do?"
Grim amusement had her agreeing with him. "Well, thank you," she said. And she meant it.
"Anytime. So," Damon drawled, leaning in with conspiratorial tones. "I couldn't help but notice several potential dates aren't here. Well, not including the jock, but he seems a tad preoccupied with beer pong downstairs."
Caroline couldn't help but frown. She hadn't allowed room for a ping pong table in her mom's house—how had it slipped by without her noticing?
"In case you hadn't noticed, I've been a bit busy making sure this party goes just right," she answered primly. Damon gave her a knowing look, which she deliberately ignored. "So that means no date."
He sighed, feigning deep disappointment. "That's too bad. I mean, Enzo crashed the party, like, an hour ago, but apparently you didn't even notice." A wicked grin lit Damon's face. "He was very disappointed," he whispered loudly, winking with exaggeration.
Despite herself, Caroline felt blood rising to her cheeks. She wrestled her embarrassment down, snapping, "He wasn't invited because I didn't need him and Stefan getting into it!" Honestly, what was with undead men forgetting how difficult it was to wash bloodstains out of white carpet?
Not that Stefan had shown up, anyway.
Damon shrugged again, boredom seeping into his intense gaze. "None of my business," he said lazily. "Gotta go find my plus one." With a mock salute—Caroline had to wonder how much of his condescending attitude was simply habit—he sauntered off. Presumably to find Elena. Caroline successfully repressed a shudder at the thought.
She set the gin on a counter where anybody could see or reach it, right next to the stack of red, green, and white plastic cops painted with snowmen, snowflakes, trees, and classic sphere ornaments.
Pleased with her petty revenge, Caroline allowed herself a high-five with an invisible admirer in her mind before continuing on.
While she was certain that hadn't been the intent—Damon wasn't that intuitive—the reminder he even had a plus one got under her skin. Well, technically, he was Elena's guest. Caroline wasn't ridiculous enough to think it a brilliant idea to actually send him one of her ornate invitations. But so long as Elena babysat him, the mayhem would be kept to a minimal.
Hopefully.
Determined not to allow Damon's attitude to poison her night, Caroline strode back toward the fireplace again. Fire licked the wood hungrily, blazing just bright and warm enough so as to be comfortable. Pleased, Caroline at last felt free to take a few minutes to socialize.
Somehow, despite her determination to make this the best party for everyone else, Caroline couldn't shake the horrid ache of hollowness. Cliché as it was, it was sad to spend the holidays virtually alone. She could cram as much fun into one night as she could. And she was. But something was missing, and every time she came close to identifying what it was, her mind shied away from the answer, which only increased the sick sensation of foreboding.
Some time passed and it became late into the night. A few guests were already passed out either drunk or exhausted in spare rooms set up precisely for this purpose. Morning was going to be hell, but she had to be the good host. Granted, she was going to wake everyone with a flurry of smashing pots and pans together until her guests either helped clean or vacated entirely, but that didn't mean she was any less the good host. Just a demanding one the day after.
Nothing wrong with that.
Though she craved some particular companionship she couldn't place, it didn't take long for Caroline to realize she was not going to find it indoors. She slipped out the back for a breather, just as the woman she'd sent on the champagne run earlier returned with several bottles of the sparkling wine.
Outside was cold, though her undead skin hardly registered the weather. Gooseflesh rose along her arms, she suspected more out of habitual reaction than anything else. Caroline wandered into the frosty backyard, glancing forlornly at her mother's house. So full, so boisterous and joyous, completely within the holiday spirit… and yet so inconsolably desolate.
A good host wouldn't wander too far from the house. Really, a good host would have stayed inside, but Caroline needed the break. Besides, Matt had finally brought himself upstairs with a few rowdy former jocks and sparked life back into rooms that were beginning to dull with familiarity and liquor.
Caroline knew damn well she was breaking all the rules the further she meandered.
And she ought to have known better. So what if years had passed with nary a word? So what if vows had been uttered, so what if such time had flown by that said vows were almost a distant memory?
She still had trouble registering the sight of Klaus Mikaelson when he appeared before her.
Okay, so appeared wasn't quite the right term. His back was to her, and he was casually walking away. There was nothing to indicate that he had even heard her.
But she knew he'd been watching. The tips of his shined shoes glimmered against moonlight with frost, as though he'd stood outside for so long the weather had worked against his stationary post. And she knew it was him. Caroline didn't have to see his cocky smile and stormy eyes to recognize his arrogant strut, or the way his shoulders were constantly in a defensive posture, or to recognize that barest tinge of auburn in his otherwise plain brown hair. In the dark, in the freezing midst of winter, with his taunting her, Caroline knew who he was.
And that he dared to flee sparked unreasonable rage in her.
"You know I can see you," she said loudly. Her voice echoed so magnificently in the empty woods that she cringed.
He didn't respond. Klaus kept walking, his leather jacket shifting with each step to reflect the pallid winter light.
Caroline quickened her pace, her voice becoming impatient. "Don't ignore me! You promised to stay away."
Still he didn't answer. Furious, Caroline utilized her vampire speed to cut him off. He whirled before she could catch sight of his face, but the damage was done. Had there been the tiniest sliver of doubt, the unnatural quickness he implemented gave him away.
"Klaus!" Caroline stamped her foot, the heel of her shoes jarring her leg. Had she been human, it would have been unbearably painful. "Just talk to me!"
Then, to her embarrassment, he finally glanced at her. His mouth curved in that know-it-all smirk that spoke volumes of his enjoyment. She realized this was all a game to him, that he was merely watching her squirm.
Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Seriously?"
"Now, now," Klaus said calmly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I literally wooshed at the sight of your face, love. You cannot pin all the blame on me."
He was throwing some of her last words to him back at her with vicious accuracy. Caroline scowled—not just in irritation, but because she had forgotten how delectable his accent was. It reminded her of that final day, surrounded by trees and brush almost exactly like now. Albeit with far fewer clothes.
Thank god she was good at controlling blushing.
"Don't try to turn this on me," she snapped, pointing a finger at him. "What are you even doing here?"
Klaus shrugged, his voice laconic even as his eyes sparked with promises of danger should she not tread carefully. "I was taking a stroll through Virginia. Strangely enough, I ended up here in Mystic Falls. Obviously I made haste to leave town should you find out and mistake my intentions."
Obviously he was lying. Caroline knew she could call him out on it, yet she chose to fold her arms beneath her breasts and scoff. "Uh huh," was all she managed to muster in reply. And Klaus appeared disappointed in her lack of wit. Meeting her dull answer with a shrug, he began to turn. Caroline, both fearful and hateful of the panic that simple move sprung from deep within her, berated herself the moment, "Wait," left her lips.
He paused, though didn't look at her.
Inhaling sharply, Caroline watched her breath escape in puffs of winter mist. "Seriously, why are you here? I know you've been watching me."
Klaus looked as though she'd shoved a lime into his mouth. He glanced away. "If you believe that, then you have your answer, don't you?"
She groaned. "Don't be cryptic."
His mouth twitched. "Cryptic would be, sweetheart, that dress looks lovely on you, but the red affair with white corset ribbons is far more becoming. You do, of course, look stunning no matter what you're wearing."
His old flattery began to nestle comfortably into a tiny niche near the forefront of her mind. Though she wanted to berate him, Caroline found herself smiling grimly. "Compliments work better when they don't make it clear you've been stalking me."
"Didn't have to," he said simply. "You haven't aged or changed a bit. And I recall the dress hanging in your closet the only time I had the pleasure of visiting your room."
That he even remembered was chilling. Some of the comfort she had taken from their banter began to dwindle. "Not exactly a happy memory for me," she stated flatly.
Klaus eyed her, his curiosity honest. "Perhaps not in circumstance. But it is the first time we made a real connection."
"Don't remind me."
But he was right, she realized. That brief lapse in time where he had promised her the beauty of the world she had yet to explore had been the chink in her armor. From that point on, no matter how she detested him, the nagging doubt reminding her that he had a true human love for natural, worldly beauty had always made her second-guess just how much of a monster Klaus was.
And she could tell she had wounded him. For someone who boasted of such strength, Klaus was painfully sensitive to rejection. Caroline held no pity for him, even if part of her winced.
"As I said," he continued stiffly, "my stay here is long past its welcome. Goodbye, Caroline."
Frustrated, and realizing she was acting irrational, Caroline followed her impulse and cut him off again, placing her hands on his chest. Klaus didn't look any more pleased.
"I don't have time for this," he stated flatly.
She set her jaw. "But you had time to stand there and watch me?" To make her point she lightly kicked one of his shoes, drawing his gaze downward.
Klaus's lips thinned and his eyes narrowed at her. But he said nothing in his defense.
Softening her voice a touch, Caroline said, "Look, it's Christmas, so I'll… forgive this transgression on your promise. Just this once." When Klaus threatened to smirk she added pointedly, "Only because of the holiday spirit, and don't you dare try this again. It won't work twice."
"Of course not," he said, struggling not to smile.
Tension she hadn't realized stiffened her muscles bled from her. Caroline at last dropped her arms back to her sides. The loss of his physical warmth taunted her, but she did her best to ignore it.
Now that the difficult part was done—and she had saved quite a bit of pride in the process, if she did say so herself—Caroline felt comfortable asking, "Are you still in New Orleans?"
"Yes," Klaus said.
She had to do something other than just stand still. Caroline began to walk, raising an eyebrow at him in invitation. He wasn't foolish enough to ask questions and smoothly fell into step beside her. "You ought to visit," he continued without looking at her. "No, not to see me. Though I wouldn't complain." When Caroline rolled her eyes, he allowed himself a smirk, as though he'd noticed her reaction in his periphery. "It truly is the most wondrous city in the world. Though I suppose once ruling it has made me somewhat biased."
"You. Ruling New Orleans?" Caroline couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice. If anything, it seemed to amuse him. "When?"
"Well before your or even your mother's time, sweetheart."
"Yeah, but… why?"
Klaus shrugged noncommittally. "I suppose when you run from your father for nearly a thousand years, you grow weary and wish to put down roots."
The answer was so candid that Caroline struggled to draw up a snarky response. Instead she attempted shifting gears slightly. "I get that. I mean, sort of. Mystic Falls is still my home. I can't imagine living anywhere else."
He finally met her eyes, his expression reproachful. "Shame."
"Why?" she asked defensively.
"That you would limit yourself when you're much more than this small town."
Caroline naturally had a list of responses for that. That Mystic Falls was still her home, that she had eternity ahead of her to experience more, that he ought not to be jealous that she had a permanent place she could call home.
But, she realized, she didn't. Not really. She had limited time left before people started noticing that she wasn't aging, and the good genetics excuse would only get her so far. More than that, such arguments would mean nothing to the man who had literally had the time to see every continent and every country within each continent.
Instead she shot back, "So is New Orleans enough for you?"
Klaus looked at her knowingly. "For now."
For a few minutes they walked in silence. The chill grew deeper, assuring all who dared to be out in it that the cold would soon reach their bones. Caroline hugged herself, not necessarily because she needed warmth. The ground glittered like crystals, and it suddenly hit Caroline that she had missed an opportunity to use the tiny jewels to her advantage. Christmas wasn't just trees and old fables and ornaments; the very nature of winter presented her with the chance to make everything glitter.
She hated being disappointed in herself.
Klaus took note of her change. "Something bothering you, love?"
Caroline waved her hand dismissively. "Just realized I could have gone with a totally different theme. I may not get a chance to celebrate with all my friends again, so…." Klaus snorted softly. She scowled.
"Then you don't intend to stay here forever," he noted rather than acknowledge her frown.
A wave of panic washed over her. "Maybe," she said hastily. "It's just going to be harder to throw parties."
Klaus tsked gently, folding his arms. "If you want to put down roots, Caroline, I suggest a large city. Find the vampire population, stick with them. You'll learn fast."
"Where, like New Orleans?" she asked sarcastically.
Klaus shrugged, though he couldn't hide his annoyance. "New York, Seattle, San Francisco, if you must stay local. Though for such a young vampire, I highly recommend Tokyo. The language will be a slight learning curve, but the population density is greatest and works best to your advantage. And Japanese isn't the worst food or culture in the world."
"Yeah, I'm sure you really took to the way they look down on their women," Caroline said.
Klaus hardly seemed perturbed by the accusation. "Last I visited the women were slowly but surely reforming their culture. Don't be so quick to judge." Then he fixed her with a heated stare, his voice lowering. "Besides, I don't care for my women submissive."
Caroline stopped in her tracks and stared back at him. He didn't back down from his challenge, and it dawned on her that he really wanted to revisit their relationship… or lack thereof. Or weirdness thereof. Or whatever this madness was supposed to be.
Until now he had played by her rules, but there had been a reason he'd come back and done all this. Caroline wondered just how much of this entire fiasco had been a set-up just so she'd be forced to acknowledge him. The thought her upset for a variety of reasons, and she pursed her lips. She didn't want to play his game. Yet it seemed inevitable that anybody who came in contact with Klaus was doomed to ensnare themselves in his incredible insanity.
Her heels crunched unbroken frost as she shifted to face him directly. "I told you before. My dreams don't involve you."
Klaus was unmoved. "You told me so when you were starting college. Now you are nearly finished. It's time to revisit your desires, Caroline."
"Have you?" she shot back, terrified at doing precisely what he'd said. She knew it was time, with just half a year until graduation, but that didn't mean she was ready. Things had finally settled down in and around Mystic Falls, allowing her and what remained of her friends to settle into comfortable routine. "You're still in Louisiana."
"Rebuilding my city," he countered. "I have much work left to do. And a family to do it with."
Somehow the last admission gave her chills. Caroline looked at him sharply, but he didn't offer to elaborate. "Well, I have a degree to use. And even if I do leave town, it sure as hell won't be just to jump into your craziness."
The corner of his mouth lifted, though his stormy eyes darkened. "Fair enough."
"So this time when you leave, you seriously can't ever come back." Oh, how she loathed the tremor in her voice. And there was no way Klaus didn't catch it. "You don't get two Christmas passes."
Klaus looked away briefly. When he met her eyes again his gaze smoldered with such buried intensity that Caroline actually took a step back. He swiftly closed the space between them, his breath warm against her face in contrast to the frigid air.
"Is that why you haven't left?" he asked with deadly quiet. "Because once you do, I can follow you anywhere?"
Yes.
"No," she whispered.
The green and blue of his irises crashed like heat lightning. Klaus didn't withdraw, watching her with such intensity that Caroline felt undressed before him all over again.
"I told you," he murmured, threatening vows underlying his words. "I intend to be your last love, Caroline." He reached up, brushing a stray curl from her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek so lightly that she hardly felt the tickle of contact. "It was a mistake for me to come. And it will not happen again."
Her heart clenched at his words. Somehow she knew he meant them more than ever.
"But once you leave, you open the invitation, love." Klaus's eyes narrowed. "So if you truly want me gone forever, chose your words more carefully."
Caroline didn't know what possessed her to do what she did. Maybe it was that they were so close friction crackled between them. Perhaps because his intensity was contagious, as was his madness.
More likely, she ached for him in a way she both hated and loved to acknowledge. That was the culprit of what drove her to close that thread of distance and kiss him.
Just like the last time, the contact was electric. She felt the embers he always sparked within her flare up to an engulfing flame, licking through her veins with hunger that rivaled bloodlust. And he was just as fierce, pulling her so close and invading her mouth with primal need. Caroline felt like she could swell and burst, the ardent fever of their intimate embrace almost too much.
Just like that he pulled away, conflict warring in his eyes. Klaus exhaled slowly, raking her with desires she feared to fulfill any more than she just had.
As though sensing her confusion, Klaus clenched his fists and took a determined step back. Only then could Caroline find the words she needed to say. "You can't come back to Mystic Falls," she whispered. "Ever."
And that was it. She didn't need to say more.
Klaus seemed to momentarily soften, a strange light flickering in his eyes before being snuffed out as he pulled his typical cavalier mask over again.
"Merry Christmas, Caroline." He paused. "At least, that's how I believe you humans prefer to exchange winter greetings."
And then he was gone before she could fully smile in reply. Caroline hugged herself again, this time feeling the cold all around her. With him went the fiery passion that had warmed her.
"Merry Christmas, you jerk," she muttered beneath her breath. Then, heaving a sigh, she began to plaintive walk back home. Where friends and fire awaited her, but the real warmth would have to wait until the day she left Mystic Falls behind and opened up the door to allow Klaus's brand of terrifying passion back into her life.
Caroline only wondered how long she would need to be ready for him.
A/N: So, this is the Christmas-themed story I wanted to get out. It's nothing special, but I like doing these things around this time of year, and it's been so long since I had inspiration to do it. Even though it's a one-shot, I still welcome constructive criticism. I'll admit I'm not quite as happy with this as I am with Crescent City or Confectionery Klaus, but that may just be because this is less plot-driven and more of a conversation piece. I like the little plot holes shows can leave behind sometimes, and I think Klaus's promise to Caroline was one of those. So until both shows end, I guess I'm just going to be a sap and root for these to to be endgame, no matter who else they hook up with in the interim.
Hopefully an update to CK is next, but my works will be more sporadic during the holidays, so please be patient with me.
Happy Holidays, no matter what you celebrate (or don't) this time of year!