All I Want to Do is Wrong
A TVD Fanfiction featuring
Klaroline, Kalijah, Stebekah and Kennett
by a-little-blonde-distraction and klarolineepiclove
PART ONE
"I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports… When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them."
-a love letter from Gustave Flaubert to his mistress Louise Colet
His hand slid down her skin, starting at her ankle and slowly sliding up her leg until his fingers wrapped around her thigh to hitch it higher on his hip. She moaned as he began to fill her even more deeply and her fingers buried themselves into his hair. He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth as she arched her back, pushing their bodies together even closer. Soon, his moans of ecstasy met her moans of pleasure and her fingernails scratched at his back as they came together.
His forehead fell and rested against hers and her hands slid up across his shoulders to hold his face.
"You're amazing," he gasped.
"I know," she murmured, her smirk causing one to spread across his own face.
"And so humble too," he teased, pecking her nose lightly before trailing kisses down her jaw and face and neck. Before he could even reach her collar bone, however, she surprised him by flipping him and turning the tables.
She pushed his chest back down when he tried to sit up to meet her lips and she sat up with him still inside her. As she straddled him, she devilishly rolled her hips even though her face was painted with the most innocent of expressions. He moaned and took hold of her hips, holding her in place; yet, he was more than holding her in place. He was trying to make sure she didn't run.
"You know you can't fault me for my confidence," she purred, gently dragging her fingernails down his torso slowly. "Not when it was one of the reasons you became attracted to me in the first place."
"Among many," he murmured, finally catching her off guard enough to sit up and pull her body closer to his as he began lavishing kisses right where he'd left off. "Your spirit, your beauty, your raw, sexual magnetism..." She murmured and moaned approvingly of his ministrations and was more than ready to go for round three if he was...and if her phone hadn't started beeping.
He immediately groaned, but not a groan of passion; this groan was more akin to a child being told they had to go to bed on Christmas Eve.
"And my punctuality," she said knowingly, giving him a quick, yet anything but chaste kiss before rolling off of him and grabbing her phone off of the bedside table. She glanced at the screen even though she already knew what the calendar alert said, and so did he.
"Girls' lunch?" he murmured, more of a statement than a question. She turned to look at him over her bare shoulder, her chestnut curls swirling around her as she gave him her devil-in-disguise grin.
"Don't be jealous, sweetie. It gives you frown lines," she said, sliding her black panties and matching bra on before stepping back into her little black lace crepe sheath dress and pulling the zipper up herself. Years of practice allowed her to do it without his assistance, and she quickly glanced around the room before she found her black peep toe pump and its twin.
"So have you come to a decision?"
"On?" she replied, slipping one pump on.
"On whether or not you're coming with me to New Orleans for my business trip this weekend?"
She glanced over at him and narrowed her eyes at him as he sat there, propped up against the headboard, his knowing gaze practically daring her to try and tell him she wasn't going.
"Have you asked your wife if she'd like to go with you?"
"No, nor will I," he said firmly with a smile. "I want you to go with me." She considered his words for a moment then crossed to sit on the edge of the bed.
"I am far too busy to be traipsing the globe with you, Elijah," she said, pointing her pump at him.
"Really?" he murmured, quirking an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, I'm a very important woman! I have places to go, people to see..."
"Katherine." His tone was just firm enough to get her to stop, but the warmth in it and his eyes made her reconsider. She sighed before putting her last pump on and striding across the room to retrieve her purse from where she'd dropped it when they'd entered the room, a flurry of movement and items of clothing and personal belongings being tossed aside.
She walked over to the door, stepping over the different pieces of his designer suit lying on the floor, but paused with her hand on the door handle and looked back at him.
He sat in exactly the same position she'd left him, sitting up against the headboard, his gloriously muscular chest bared as the sheets pooled around him. They were tousled and wrinkled from their lovemaking, and she was sure he could smell her on him as she could him. His gaze was warm and expectant, but she could see the faintest hint of fear in his eyes.
As much as she loved the thrill of the chase, she had already run and lost him once; she'd lived through too much to be that foolish and headstrong again.
"Fine. Pick me up at 6." He smirked back at her as she scoffed at him with a smile and turned on her python heel.
"I've never met anyone like you, Katerina," he said, using her birth name and letting his accent flow over the natural inflections in the word.
"And you never will," she called over her shoulder from the hallway as the door closed slowly closed behind her.
As the elevator neared the ground floor, Katherine sent a group text to her girlfriends.
On my way. There in 20.
She slipped her phone into her purse as the elevator dinged, and strode confidently through the lobby towards the doors of the Waldorf-Astoria, sliding her Prada sunglasses on as she raised her hand to hail a cab.
"Hi, this is Tyler. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll call you back."
Caroline sighed and hit the end button instead of leaving a message. Even if she did leave a message, he wouldn't call her back. He never called her back. Ever.
Instead of putting her phone back into her purse, however, she opened a new text.
Please tell Tyler to call me ASAP, Jules. Thanks.
She hit send and pushed her sunglasses back on the top of her head as she stepped through the doorway to the restaurant. She wasn't sure if anyone was there yet, but then she spotted the beautiful blonde with pouty lips checking her makeup in her compact mirror. She nodded at the hostess as she passed her and made her way to the table.
"Anymore lipstick, Rebekah, and they'll be asking you if you ate it," Caroline said as she took a seat next to the her.
"Which is worse, Caroline," the blonde replied, "looking like you ate your lipstick or like you lost a battle with your hair dryer?"
"It's called a blowout for a reason, you twat," Caroline replied quickly, taking a sip of water before glancing at the menu. "Besides, you're as yellow as a taxi cab, it's not like you need more attention with bright red lipstick."
"Stefan likes this dress," Rebekah said defensively, smoothing out the fabric of her dress but she caught herself and realized it was too late when Caroline gasped knowingly.
"Ahhh, that's why you're all spiffed up. You've got a romantic interlude with your married ex-boyfriend..."
"Shh!" Rebekah hissed, glancing around furtively to make sure no one had heard Caroline. "You know what, just because I'm getting laid and you're not is no reason for you to be all bitchy and judgemental."
Caroline gaped at the blonde for actually going there and saying that out loud. But before she could respond to Rebekah's bold and pointed rejoinder, someone beat her to the punch.
"Alright girls, mommy's here, put the claws away," Bonnie said as she sat down in the seat opposite Rebekah and next to Caroline. She knew Caroline would be the first to attempt anything physical, so being within arms reach of her might be best.
Caroline and Rebekah's friendship was a testy one because they both possessed the same combative qualities that made them butt heads. They got along famously as long as they had a buffer, and buffer was Bonnie's middle name.
"Why are you in jeans? Did you not have any appointments today?" Caroline chose to take the high road and not verbally beat her blonde friend to death and changed the subject.
"No, I um," Bonnie said, her voice getting softer, her eyes glancing down at her menu, "I went to visit Jeremy today."
Caroline's eyes flicked up to meet Rebekah's and they exchanged looks.
"That's what? The...fourth time this month, Bonnie," Rebekah said, attempting to be as gentle as she could.
"Please, this was only the second time," Bonnie said indignantly. "And it's just...well...I had dream about him last night and...well I think he was sending me a message."
"What are you talking about?" Caroline said, concern marring her brow.
"Well, he came to me and took me in his arms and we were slow dancing," Bonnie started to explain, "and then...he suddenly stopped. He took my face in his hands and stared into my eyes and ordered me to wake up."
"You were lucid dreaming?" Rebekah said curiously.
"Not until that moment, and then I did wake up and I smelled smoke. Turns out that the woman two floors down had left her iron on and her cat knocked the ironing board over and the flat was already half up in flames."
"Oh my god!" Caroline and Rebekah replied, practically in unison.
"I know!" Bonnie said, leaning in to the table. "Look, I know you guys roll your eyes at my premonitions and think my work is silly most of the time, but this was more than a coincidence." Caroline and Rebekah gave their friend soft looks of exasperation.
Bonnie made her living with natural and holistic family remedies that were handed down to her by her grams; the other thing her grams passed down that they had trouble accepting was the mysticism and occultism, "which is completely different than superstition" according to Bonnie. Even though they were supportive, they didn't always believe Bonnie's predictions and premonitions.
"Anyway, I just wanted to thank him so I went to the florist and got an arrangement and went to thank him."
"Bonnie, I'm glad that you're okay and you didn't go up in flames, but..." Caroline started and placed her hand over her friends as it rested on the table, "it's been nearly a year since Jeremy's death and you're really not handling it well. You haven't been going to grief counseling, don't try to deny it!" Caroline raised her eyebrows and tone when Bonnie opened her mouth to argue. Bonnie sighed and bowed her head, doing her best to hide the tears gathering in her eyes.
"She's right, Bon," Rebekah added. "We're not saying that you have to forget Jeremy, because we don't want you to, sweetheart. But I think what Caroline's trying to say is: you've got to try to start moving on." She leaned into the table more with the softest and most sympathetic face. "Jeremy wouldn't want you to be unhappy, and neither do we."
"And we're here for you, every step of the way," Caroline added, squeezing her hand. Bonnie smiled at her friends, the tears welling up in her eyes no longer sad tears.
"Thanks you guys," she said softly, furtively wiping away her tears as the familiar clicking of heels was heard approaching their table.
"Now now, I'm here, no need to cry!" Katherine said with a smirk as she sat down at the last available seat across from Caroline and in between Rebekah and Bonnie. Bonnie chuckled while Rebekah and Caroline rolled their eyes.
"Ah, Katherine. On time, but fashionably later than everybody else...as always," Rebekah said distastefully.
"Well you know what they say," Katherine said knowingly, flipping open her menu and scanning it, "'Better fashionably late than never!'"
"That's not quite the saying, but it was a valiant effort, nonetheless," Rebekah replied with a smirk, but her smirk slowly faded as Katherine sat next to her and the waitress came and took their drink and appetizer orders. She waited until she'd gone before leaning over to the brunette, a look of suspicion and hesitation on her face.
"Katherine is that..." Rebekah hissed, but paused to sniff again, then whispered in angry horror, "Gentlemen Only I smell?"
Katherine barely glanced up at Rebekah and smirked evilly and quirked her eyebrow. She made a face and raised her menu up without a word. Rebekah's face suddenly twisted into shock and horror and Bonnie and Caroline watched the other two and then exchanged glances, trying their best to hide their smirks.
"YOU LITTLE TROLLOP!" Rebekah hissed, "I TOLD YOU TO STOP SEEING MY BROTHER!"
"Yes, and I told you that Elijah and I are just friends," Katherine said dismissively, taking a sip of her water, her eyes still scanning the menu.
"Ugh," Rebekah grimaced in disgust.
"If you didn't want to know, you shouldn't have brought it up."
"I can smell him on you," Rebekah said through gritted teeth. "I bought him that cologne for Christmas, you tart."
"Ladies, settle down, mommy hasn't even had her cocktail yet," Bonnie said, more than happy to end the dispute from the sidelines.
"Speaking of cocktails," Caroline masterfully segwayed, "have any of you tried that new Smirnoff Sorbet Light Raspberry Pomegranate Vodka? It's delish, I spotted the bottle in a store as I walked home the other night and I got some and made myself some drinks for The Bachelorette finale."
"You stayed in all night drinking by yourself watching reality television?" Rebekah said, looking unimpressed and quirking an eyebrow. "That's so pathetic."
"I knew there was a reason that we're friends," Katherine said to Rebekah as she glanced up from her menu, a proud smirk on her face.
"Yeah well I don't have a smokin' hot married man keeping my bed warm, now do I?" Caroline spat, glaring at both women. "So if you want to judge me for splurging and drinking a bottle of vodka and eating two bags of Dark Chocolate Milanos by myself, then go fuck yourselves!" Caroline huffed, quickly propping her menu up on the table and cutting off their view of her and the three women stared at her in silence for a beat.
"Boy, someone needs to get laid," Katherine remarked and Caroline slammed her menu flat on the table to glare at her and Rebekah chortled.
"That's what I said! I knew there was a reason that we're friends," she echoed the brunette's earlier observation.
"How long until Tyler's back?" Bonnie said, trying to diffuse the tension.
"Who knows," Caroline muttered as the waitress placed their cocktails by each of them and she took a gulp out of hers, "I certainly don't."
"Caroline, I've told you there's nothing wrong with blowing off a little steam while Tyler's gone," Katherine said matter-of-factly. "If the old Rabbit isn't doing it for you anymore, find yourself something of the man meat variety."
"Could you get anymore crass?" Caroline replied in both disgust and dismay.
"You know what, I have the perfect idea," the brunette smiled, the glint of scheming in her eye, and she took her cell out of her bag and her fingers danced across the screen.
"What are you doing?" Caroline said, her brow furrowing both at Katherine's smile and her sudden cell phone usage.
"Texting Elijah."
"What the hell for?!"
"To see if he's got a friend for you to keep you occupied on our trip this weekend."
"Katherine!" Caroline exclaimed.
"Oh come on, Caroline!" Katherine said, her annoyance over her friend's resistance finally showing. "Elijah's going to New Orleans for business and asked me to come along and he's going to be in meetings all day long and I'll be bored out of my fucking mind in the first two hours."
"Right, so this is doing you a favor more than me," Caroline said, scoffing and shaking her head. "Typical Katherine."
"Hey, this benefits both of us!" Katherine said defensively, "I get someone to amuse me during the day and Elijah to amuse me at night..."
"Ugh, kill me," Rebekah moaned.
"...And you get those perfect little feathers ruffled and an all expense paid weekend vacation," Katherine finished, ignoring the blonde to her left that was suddenly downing her drink and staring at the blonde biting her lip in front of her.
Caroline glanced at Rebekah, who seemed totally unphased by Caroline's options and then at Bonnie who was looking at her knowingly, expecting the blonde to look to her for approval.
"You know how I feel: I promise not to judge no matter how much I disapprove," she said, "even though if it's with a married man..." she added, turning her head towards the brunette and other blonde.
"Yes yes, we all know about the 'sacred bond of marriage as told by the late, great Bonnie Bennett,'" Katherine said haughtily, waving her hand at the girl as Rebekah chuckled and smirked. "'The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.' Oscar Wilde."
"Says the girl who never knows when to quit," Bonnie replied kindly. Katherine pursed her lips and Caroline and Rebekah chuckled and rolled their eyes respectively.
"Besides," Katherine sniffed, flipping her brunette curls over her shoulder, "what being a mistress has taught me is that I'd rather be the other woman than be a wife trapped in a loveless, miserable marriage."
"Cheers," Rebekah murmured, clinking her glass to Katherine's.
"I'm only miserable because Tyler's gone and our marriage is not loveless!" Caroline said indignantly. Katherine and Rebekah turned to stare at her.
"Actually I was referring to Elijah's fragile little Tatia and that awful, selfish wretch Elena," Katherine deadpanned, "but it struck a chord with you. Interesting."
"Whatever," Caroline tried to brush Katherine off, but she found herself having to avoid Katherine's proud, smug smirk.
"Caroline, people fall in and out of love all the time, it won't kill you to admit that yours and Tyler's relationship isn't perfect," Rebekah said.
"What relationship is?" Caroline replied defensively and Rebekah quirked an eyebrow.
"True," she nodded, "but I'll tell you one thing: no matter how Stefan feels about me or Elena, he still answers our calls."
"Yeah, even when Elena's just calling him to cry about getting a papercut that she needs him to rush home and personally attend to," Katherine sneered as she lifted her glass to her lips.
"It is always something with Elena," Caroline found herself nodding.
"And see that's the reason Stefan's fallen out of love with Elena," Rebekah continued. "Marriage is about compromise, the push and pull; with Elena, everything's always about her. She claims to put family first, but the second her kidney started failing, she was more than happy to let Jeremy get up on the slab to give her his, even though she knew the risks that accompanied the surgery..."
"...and the added risk with Jeremy's medical history and previous accidents," Bonnie added quietly, gazing pensively at her closed menu on the table. The conversation halted as the three others looked up at Bonnie, waiting to see how she was; they didn't want to upset their friend for the sake of philosophical discussion.
"Bonnie?" Caroline asked softly, "Are you okay?" Bonnie was silent for a moment before taking a breath and looking back up into her friend's bright blue eyes.
"Yeah," she breathed, "I'm fine. But I know what Rebekah means. There was a time when Elena would've chosen death over putting her family in danger; but she could've waited on the transplant list. Her other kidney was a little weak but still functional, so her life was not in immediate risk, but her paranoia and selfishness got the better of her and she convinced Jeremy she needed it more than anything.
And Jeremy could never say no to Elena, even though I had an awful feeling about the whole thing. The worst thing was the pain; Jeremy couldn't have just died instantly, but instead he had to suffer through nearly a month of pain before his body shut down on itself. And all just because of some fucking surgery..." Bonnie managed before she began to cry, and she dabbed her face with her napkin. Rebekah took Bonnie's free hand as Caroline rubbed her shoulder on the opposite side.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Bonnie assured them, taking deep breaths and looking up to try and keep her tears from spilling over. Once she'd pulled herself together, her gaze fell back on her blonde friend to her right.
"But Bekah's right, Care; the least that Tyler could do is pick up the phone. The only reason he's out traveling is to benefit himself and to feed his ego. He's never even home long enough for you two to fight about him never picking up and never being home."
Caroline felt tears welling up into her eyes as her friend gazed into them and said out loud every thought that had been plaguing her for years.
"I know you're right," Caroline said quietly, biting her lip in an attempt not to cry. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. Tyler was my first love, he's all I've ever wanted, and now...now anything else is just too... too new, too scary, too unknown."
"At least you can divorce him if you want to," Rebekah muttered, "you know Elena would bleed Stefan dry with alimony if he divorced her. I mean, for all intents and purposes, I'm his wife. It would shock you to know on how many things I'm listed as his 'In Case of Emergency Contact.'"
"I'm the same with Elijah," Katherine said, and before Rebekah voice her displeasure about their relationship, Kat quickly added, "come on, you know how much of a damsel Tatia is. And before she got all high and mighty and left Elijah dry, they had Caleb and she convinced him to adopt her little illegitimate brat Dmitri."
"Yes, yes, Saint Elijah, we know," Caroline teased and Bonnie and Rebekah chuckled.
"No no, you're right," Rebekah agreed. "I mean as much as the thought of you shagging my brother makes me want to rip my hair out from its roots after I puke up my insides..."
"Lovely," Katherine said.
"...I'd rather you than Tatia."
"That's very comforting," Katherine said sarcastically.
"I mean she didn't just ruin Elijah's life, but Nik's as well. I'm glad they got it all sorted, but she played both of them and I know it still nags at Elijah every single day. Family means more to us than anything, and to Elijah the most."
"And it's not easy finding good ones like him," Bonnie said appreciatively and Katherine smiled.
"Or like Jeremy," she smiled at her friend and Bonnie smiled back at her. Caroline gazed around the table before she sighed and finally burst out.
"Okay! I'll go with you to New Orleans!"
The girls cheered and Rebekah lifted her glass.
"To finding and keeping the good ones," she said confidently. The others smiled and laughed.
"The good ones!" they toasted and clinked their glasses.
"Niklaus, it's hardly 1 o'clock and you've drank half my bourbon."
"Your point being?" Klaus replied pouring himself another glass.
"If you're going to day drink at the office just for the sake of drinking, at least drink the cheaper spirits. That bourbon's older than you..." Elijah said matter-of-factly, placing the topper back in the glass decanter and swapping it for a bottle of Jim Beam.
"It's been one of those work weeks," Klaus said, running a hand through his hair before rubbing his eyes and taking another sip of the amber liquid.
"Is Camille in Shreveport overseeing the new bar? Or is she at the opening in Houston?"
"Who knows..." Klaus muttered, looking at the glass in his left hand and then at the gold ring that rested on his finger, mocking him and deriving pleasure from his suffering. "I certainly don't. Not like it matters where she is..."
"Well if she's in Shreveport she could come down to New Orleans when we're there," Elijah said, crossing back to sit behind his desk.
"Cami's not the kind of company I was hoping to have," Klaus said honestly throwing back the rest of his glass.
"Oh, that kind of company," Elijah smirked, glancing down to see his phone and seeing it light up with a new text message.
"You know I actually stopped and had to think about the last time I had sex," Klaus said pitifully, plopping down in an office armchair beside the liquor cabinet. "Which the fact that I actually have to think about it should already be horrific, but it gets worse. Next Wednesday, it will be exactly six months since my last shag and I'm going completely mental."
"My last shag was precisely 1 hour and 23 minutes ago."
"Fuck you."
"What happened to that one girl?" Elijah asked, unphased by his brother's expletive. "The brunette with big eyes?"
"Hayley was a liquor-fueled one night stand who's in the wind now. I haven't heard from her since the very same liquor-fueled one night stand...which was roughly six months ago. And even then it had been months since my last hook up," Klaus said, going back through the Rolodex in his memory, trying to remember the women he'd been intimate with and neither the faces nor the names were coming to him. That was never a good sign; not remembering meant that it had been too long.
"Well, Niklaus, it would seem as if your prayers have been answered. You won't be needing to be picking up a girl at a bar or pay for your pleasure this weekend," Elijah said, opening his phone and replying back in a text to someone.
"What are you going on about, brother?" Klaus said, half groaning and half whining.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you that Katerina will be joining us this weekend in New Orleans," Elijah said casually, ignoring his brother's scoff, and added, "and lucky for you, she's bringing along a friend."
"Brilliant," Klaus deadpanned, "a friend of Katherine's...I'm sure she's a regular peach."
"Must you always be so pessimistic? You can either complain about your barren sex life or you can whine and look the gift horse in the mouth, Niklaus."
"Yeah well when that gift horse is Katherine Pierce, forgive me for not throwing her a party for the 'friend' she throws at me. We may have fought over women before in the past, 'Lijah, but we've grown and it may shock you to learn that my preferences have changed."
"You shouldn't be too quick to judge a girl you haven't even met, brother," Elijah said wisely. "Besides, even if she is anything like Katerina, you should be counting your blessings." Elijah sighed and a look that was both starry-eyed and lust laden crossed his face, "The things that Katerina can do...the things she's done..." he glanced over at where his brother was seated, "in that chair for example, would change your mind about this girl."
It took a moment for what his brother said to sink in, but suddenly Klaus leapt out of the chair, cursing and going to pour himself more bourbon as Elijah smirked and looked back down at his phone to read his mistress's reply.
"You know I'll never understand how someone like you could be involved with someone like Katherine," he muttered, more to himself than his brother, "another person I'll never understand." Elijah chuckled at his remark.
"'Women are made to be loved, not understood,'" he said wisely, then added, "Oscar Wilde."
"Says the man with a mistress that refuses to tell him she loves him," Klaus replied quickly and he saw Elijah's jaw clench. The never ending chase and great mystique that was otherwise known to his brother as 'Katerina Petrova' was only Elijah's Achilles' heel when he was reminded of his unrequited declaration of love to her years ago when they first met.
Klaus watched Elijah tap his thumb anxiously against his phone before he looked away from Klaus and sighed.
"Niklaus, for someone who bemoans and decries how alone you are, you seem more than willing and eager to fault others for their loneliness. Forgive me for attempting to help alleviate your anguish. In the end, it's up to you, dear brother, not to me whether or not you choose to find someone," Elijah said, typing a quick word and hitting send before looking back up at his brother's back as Klaus put the lid back on the bottle of Jim Beam.
Klaus stood there drumming his fingers on the glass and thought long and hard before finally growling.
"Alright! I'll meet Katherine's friend in New Orleans!"
Elijah smiled and quickly typed another message to Katherine as Klaus threw back more bourbon and poured himself some more.
"Excellent. Who knows, brother, maybe if you two hit it off, this can become a recurring arrangement."
"Don't push it, Elijah," Klaus said, turning and pointing at his brother warningly.
"Don't rule it out, Klaus," Elijah replied, pointing back at him. "Fate has a funny way of finding us, even if it was detoured or lost."
"Oscar Wilde?" Klaus asked suspiciously.
"Elijah Mikaelson," his brother smirked.
"You would quote yourself," Klaus grumbled, taking a seat as far away from the chair of debauchery as possible. "Arse."
"A trait you of all would be more than qualified to recognize, dear brother," Elijah smirked, looking away from Klaus to check his email while his younger brother downed yet another glass of bourbon.
Bonnie Bennett didn't like to make rash judgments, but after operating Sleeping Earth for as long as she had, she'd begun to notice that there was a certain kind of clientele that often frequented.
She was used to seeing those giggling college freshman, who fancied the idea of curses and love spells; naturalists and vegans, chefs and alternative health care professionals, those who preferred nature's own medicine to the more modern day advances. She would smile at the sweet old ladies who stopped in to purchase rosemary and basil to plant in their hanging baskets—"they smell just heavenly once you walk in the door!"—and roll her eyes at the eccentrics who loaded up on garlic on Halloween or the laughing, red faced teenage boys who want to know if Horny Goat Weed really works as an aphrodisiac.
She wasn't, however, used to seeing well dressed professionals waltzing through the door with confused yet intrigued expressions on their faces.
She couldn't help but watch with rapt interest as the man made his way through the store, his neck craning and bending to examine every herb and lotion, his nose crinkling at times and at other his eyes taking on a gleam of impressment.
She found herself leaning back against the counter as her eyes raked the man over, taking in his pressed black trousers and dark blue button down shirt, her gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary when she saw the hint of a strong collar bone beneath the unbuttoned collar. Her eyes took in his broad shoulders and tall stance, and the almost sinful way his dark hair rested atop his head in complete dishevelment, but still maintaining a semblance of perfect coif that left her mind baffled and her fingers itching to rake through it.
The man finally rounded the shelves of incense and balms, and Bonnie raised her eyebrows with a smile when his eyes—dark, deep pools of brown—lifted to spot her, his lips quirking up into a devilish smirk as he halted his steps. She silently thanked the dim lighting of her store, because she was sure her face had taken on a very noticeable blush when his dark eyes quickly raked across her own form, in a manner quite similar to the way she'd just appraised him.
"Can I help you find something?" she asked, ignoring the way her heart hammered against her ribcage when his smirk grew, and his steps started towards her with what she could only describe as pure, unadulterated swag.
"Well, I certainly hope so, darling," he crooned, his accented voice almost melodic.
There was a flirtatious tone to the man's voice, and against her better judgment, Bonnie could feel her smile spreading across her face. There was something...dashing about him. Something with his smug, cocky face and his Devil-may-care grin that just pulled her in. She tilted her head, long dark curls cascading over her shoulder, and pursed her lips playfully as she looked him over, a contemplative hum slipping out.
"Let's see...full head of hair. Nice, clear complexion. No limps or gashes that are easily visible. So something tells me you're here more out of curiosity than necessity."
"Nicely deduced," he appraised, nodding his head as his eyes scoured over her once more, the gleam of appreciation in them not escaping her notice. "I must say, darling. When my star pitcher told me about the herbal concoction his half-witted girlfriend had him start using twice a day, I thought he was just as daft as her. But I'd be damned if I can't say his entire performance didn't turn completely around. And by those identical idiotic grins on both their faces, I would wager in more ways than one."
"Oh, okay...and you're here because...your performance needs a little enhancement, too?"
He laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter, one long leg crossing over the other at the ankle. "Oh, I can assure you darling, the goods are well and fine, and in proper working order." He cocked an eyebrow, lowering his head towards her with an impish grin. "I'd be happy to give you a demonstration."
A rush of heat flooded her face, an uncharacteristic peal of girlish laughter slipping past her lips as she turned away from him, shaking her head and sliding the tray full of incense and balms into her arms before making her way across the store. "You don't waste any time do you?"
"What can I say, love?" he laughed, his footsteps following behind her, and Bonnie had to bite her lip to keep her smile from widening any further. "You've bewitched me."
"Oh, as if I haven't heard that one before."
"You know, walking in here, I would've expected to see a wrinkled old crone, with dreadlocks and some intricate headpiece. Maybe a hoop through her crooked nose and bony fingers with rings and yellowed nails. Maybe a big black cat scurrying around her feet..."
Bonnie clucked her tongue. "I'm allergic."
"Well, all the better that my assumption was proved wrong, then. I'm Kol." He jogged past her, cutting into her path, grinning widely when her steps halted her and her eyebrows arched high on her head. "Kol Mikaelson. Maybe you've heard of me?"
She merely stared at him inquisitively.
"Not a sports fan, eh? No matter to me, darling. I manage the Yankees. You know, the baseball team?"
Bonnie gasped playfully. "Oh, you mean that game with the wooden bats and the little white balls? Goodness me, I had no idea it was a real thing." She rolled her eyes, sidestepping him-him and that damned adorable grin that was causing the most inconvenient butterflies to flutter around inside of her-and setting the tray down on one of the oak shelves of the bookcase next to her. She tried to steady her breathing when she felt him come up behind her, his breath warm on the back of her neck.
"Pretty and a sharp tongue. That's quite a combination. What's your name, love?"
Bonnie shook her head. "Sorry, I reserve the first name basis status for people who don't openly mock and scoff at my life's ambition."
Kol staggered back a step, placing a hand over his broad chest in an act of mock offense. "I'm wounded. As if I could hold you and your life's ambition in anything but the highest regard! Healing the sick, fixing the wounded, aiding the poor, miserable saps who can't manage to get their pickle tickled on their own." He sighed dramatically as she laughed. "It's quite a hardship you carry, love. I look at you with nothing but awe and adoration. The utmost, I assure you." He took a step towards her, tilting his chin down at gazing at her from beneath his lashes. "So come on, darling...won't you tell me your name?"
There was something in his eyes as he stared at her; something that tickled the back of Bonnie's memory. She could remember Jeremy looking at her just like that in the beginning: full of hope and and excitements, as if the greatest thing she could ever do was just give him two seconds of her time. He still looked at her like that, later on down the line, but it became more subtle. It was more passing glances then-when she made breakfast or folded the laundry.
It was almost enlightening to see someone looking at her like that again-as if she could potentially be the greatest thing he'd ever come across.
Bonnie sighed, darting her gaze to the side before returning to his own, her lips turning up into a smile. "Bonnie."
"Bonnie," Kol smiled, nearly breathing her name, and the very whisper of it sent a shiver down her spine. "Fitting name, darling. It's a pleasure." He reached out, grasping her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, pressing a featherlight kiss to her knuckles, keeping his gaze trained on hers.
Bonnie could swear she felt that kiss straight down to her toes. His gaze was scorching, seeming to sear into her own and leave her gasping, and she suddenly shoved all lingering thoughts of Jeremy to the back of her mind as she smiled back at him, her own fingers curling around his. His head lifted, his lips stretching into a smile, and her breath caught in her throat.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a shrill chirping from the pocket of his perfectly pressed trousers gave him pause. He slipped his hand from hers, reaching into his pocket with an apologetic wink, and he brought the phone up to his ear.
"Kol Mikaelson," he answered confidently, with an over exaggerated roll of his shoulders that left Bonnie giggling, but as soon as however was on the other line began to speak, his light hearted expression slipped away, a frown marring his face. He turned away from her, taking three long strides towards the other end of the store, his voice low as he spoke, and Bonnie felt a piercing in her chest when she caught the words, "Yes, this is her husband."
Husband.
Husband.
This is her husband.
She suddenly found it hard to breathe, a hand flying to her chest, fingers wrapping around the white pendant that dangled from her neck as she stumbled away. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter as she crashed into it, casting a glance behind her to see Kol still engrossed in his phone conversation, and she shook her head, clenching her eyes shut as she darted behind the thick black curtain that separated the back stock room from the show room.
April Young, the young college student she'd hired to help out on the weekends, looked up at her as she entered, her eyes widening when she caught Bonnie's panicked expression. "Are you okay?"
Bonnie looked up at her, and forced a smile onto her face, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she lied, trying to steady her voice. "Um, I'm actually feeling a little sick, April, would you...would you mind watching the counter for me?" She saw the younger girl hesitate, and she sighed, lifting her hands to cradle her head. "April, please, I just need to get some air."
The wide eyed brunette nodded, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor as she rose, her long red gypsy skirt swishing around her legs as she quickly made her way out to the showroom, and as soon as she'd disappeared through the curtain, Bonnie collapsed against the wall, closing her eyes and banging her head against the paneled wood behind her.
She could hear April ask Kol if he needed help finding anything, and she could imagine Kol's bewildered gaze searching for her as he turned around, his voice soft and confused as he answered in the negative. His heavy footsteps were slowly making their way towards the front door, and Bonnie sighed when she heard the telltale jingle of the overhanging bells just before the door quietly clicked shut.
She let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the faint tan line on her left hand. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, shaking her head, and silently cursed herself for getting so carried away.
As a teaching hospital, Mercy Grace was always alive with activity.
Residents would be leading interns down the hall, barking orders and explaining procedures. Nurses would be scurrying around with trays and patient files, flocking to and from rooms with haste and efficiency. People waiting on news of loved ones would occupy the numerous seats that lined the reception areas and hallways. Distorted voices spoke over the PA system, pagers would sound in a million different decibels, and every second was spent with someone having some kind of purpose.
Rebekah was well aware of her purpose at this hospital. As the on staff health defense attorney, it was her job to oversee that all medical procedures were performed with the utmost care and efficiency. The hospital had a sparkling reputation, known for being one of the best in the city, but she knew very well that all it took was one disgruntled patient to bring about the dreaded malpractice accusations that could either make or break a hospital.
She carefully examined the mountains of paperwork that crossed her desk every week and kept a close eye on the personnel files that came just as frequently. She knew most people scoffed at her—after all, she wasn't exactly what you would classify as a cut throat attorney. She was too tall and too blonde, with far too pretty a face to be able to hack it in a courtroom. She was well aware of the childish snorts and laughter that followed her down the halls from the new interns that flooded the hospital every year. She didn't miss the snide comments they passed her as she left for the day, or the endless amount of horrible pick up lines that were often thrown at her in the hospital cafeteria.
But she also knew that in her five years at the hospital, she had been presented with exactly four malpractice suits. And of those four, every single one of them had been thrown out and discarded in less than a week.
She'd been raised with three older brothers. Rebekah was no stranger to fighting tooth and nail.
But despite all of that, as she maneuvered her way down the hospital corridor, she had a different purpose in mind.
Her black heels clicked against the tiled floor as she rounded the corner and stopped at the nurse's station, her manicured nails tapping patiently against the counter as she waited for the matronly head nurse to finish her phone call before flashing her a brilliant smile. "Edna, how are the kids?" she inquired.
Edna nodded at her absently, scribbling a variety of notes into the corner of her desk calendar. "Fine and dandy. One's off to college while the other is intent on putting her father and I in an early grave." She sighed, lifting her gaze to roll her eyes at the younger woman. "Got a neck tattoo. A NECK. TATTOO. Some horrible tribal etching clear down her throat. How the hell she thinks she'll ever make it into Stanford with that ugly ass thing is beyond me."
Rebekah laughed, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Well, as a former rebellious teenager myself, I can attest to the fact that it will eventually pass. Not nearly soon enough to give you and George a hint of solitude and peace, but more than likely soon enough for those college applications come her senior year."
"I suppose. What can I do for you?"
She smiled. "I was wondering if you could page Dr. Salvatore for me. There are a few last minute questions regarding the Sanderson case that one of his interns was involved in. I'd like to get it wrapped up before the day ends, and I can't seem to track him down."
She watched as Edna's trained eyes bore into her, a hint of a knowing smile crossing her face. She kept her face impassive, not giving anything away. She knew no one knew just how close she and Stefan were. They were careful. Gossip spreads fast in hospitals, especially among the fresh faced interns. She made it a point to never act too intimate with him when there were other eyes around. She maintained a professional relationship with him, one that was very much like the ones she shared with other doctors and surgeons she'd come to know over her employment here.
She knew there was speculation, of course. Wasn't there always? Sometimes it incredibly annoying how so many medical professionals actually thought their hospitals operated like Grey's Anatomy.
After a moment, the wizened nurse nodded, turning away from her and lifting the gray handset to her ear before pressing an arrangement of numbers, and Rebekah let out a breath of relief as she smiled at her and rocked back on her heels. She moved to the end of the long reception desk, crossing her arms over her chest and letting a smirk play across her lips as she waited, even though she didn't wait long.
Stefan Salvatore always was prompt.
He came around the corner, long white lab coat fluttering behind him, the pale blue of his scrubs a stark contrast to his naturally tanned skin and dark hair. His clean shaven face was awake and alert, never giving any hint to the 80 hour work week he'd just put in. He was tossing a small black pager back and forth between his hands, an easy smile on his face as he strolled up to Edna. "Hey, you paged me?"
Edna merely pointed towards Rebekah with her pen, her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor as she turned towards the copy machine, and Stefan followed her direction, his smile widening the slightest bit when he caught sight of the blonde leaning against the counter.
"Dr. Salvatore," she greeted as he made his way over to her, her voice neutral and unwavering, despite the rush of heat that flooded to her stomach when his eyes darkened as they raked over her. "I was wondering if you had a few moments to go over the Sanderson case? It's due for deposition at the beginning of the week, and I'd like to have my weekend clear."
Stefan nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Big plans?" he asked, his smile teasing.
She shrugged. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, but I do foresee being a bit too tied up to worry about work details."
She let her innuendo sink in for a moment, knowing full well the way he'd take her "tied up" comments. She'd been paying very close attention last week when he'd made that passing comment of being intrigued by the whole Fifty Shades of Gray phenomenon.
The hint clearly struck home, given the way his eyes darkened, and she allowed herself a small smug smile of success. She tilted her head, turning on her heel.
"Shall we?" She didn't wait for a response, instead strided ahead, her hips sashaying beneath her stretchy cotton dress.
She could feel his eyes boring into her back, but she kept her smile calm and gaze cool as she led them down the hallway. She watched as the crowds littering the whitewashed walls thinned, realizing they were coming towards one of the newer wings of the hospital that hadn't quite reached the level of patient occupancy, and as they turned another corner, she bit her lip to suppress her smile when a pair of strong hands gripped her waist and she felt herself being pulled to the side.
The door to the supply closet slammed shut behind them, the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking in place meeting her ears before her every sense was overwhelmed with the feel of Stefan's lips crashing against hers. She moaned against his mouth, her arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders and pushing herself closer to him. His hands skimmed her back, over her hips, before kneading the plush skin of her bottom, the fabric of her dress crinkling under his grasp.
Their lips broke away with a loud pop, their breathing frantic and labored, before Stefan's mouth began a descent down her neck, his teeth nibbling lightly at her collarbone. "You know what those fuck-me heels do to me, Bex," he murmured against her skin.
She laughed, tangling her hands in his hair as she arched her back against him, his lips leaving a burning trail across her chest as he licked at her exposed cleavage. "Hence their occupancy on my feet," she said, sighing when his wandering mouth made the trek up her neck again. "I figured after a long work week, you deserved a bit of a treat."
"And what a treat it is," he said, pressing his lips to hers again. "Though a quickie in a broom closet isn't really your speed."
"Well, when you've been deprived for as long as we have, one has to make allowances." She grinned, casting a glance down his form. "Unless you and the Italian Stallion aren't up for it, of course. Though, something tells me you most certainly are." She rocked her hips against his, smirking at his growl of approval, and she let out a surprised gasp when his grip on her ass tightened, and he jerked her against him.
"Haven't we talked about you never referring to my penis as Sylvester Stallone's porn title?"
Rebekah shrugged, grinding her hips against his and relishing in the groan that resulted. "Mmm, perhaps you should punish me, then? Teach me to listen well the first time?"
In the pale darkness of the room, she saw the lust flash across his eyes, and he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips before dropping to his knees before her, causing an excited shiver to course down her spine as his lips pressed into the material against her stomach.
Her hands rested against his shoulders as his fingers danced below the hemline of her dress, tickling the skin of her thighs. They gripped the edge of the yellow material, bunching it up inch by inch until it lay in a heap around her waist, his breath warm against her newly exposed skin.
"Fuck me heels and barely there panties," Stefan crooned, his fingers tracing the elastic of her purple mesh thong teasingly. He felt her shudder under his attention, and it was his turn to. He leaned forward, his mouth against the flimsy material, and pressed a kiss to her already damp core. Her gasp resounded above him, and he moved his lips down, teasing her relentlessly until her fingers were digging into his shoulders. She whispered his name when he slowly moved her panties to the side, licking his lips before his tongue darted out and traced a long path between her folds. She cried out, staggering against him, and he gripped onto her hip with his free hand.
His tongue circled her clit, tracing figure eights, and her felt her body tremble under his touch. He pulled away, grinning at her irritated growl, and gripped the sorry excuse for underwear in his hands, pulling them over her hips and down her legs. He steadied her as she quickly stepped out them, and he tossed them to the side before taking one of her legs in his hand, lifting it and propping her heeled foot up onto an overturned bucket. He grasped her hips tightly as he pulled her close again, his mouth closing around her throbbing nub. He stroked her languidly with his tongue, diving into her wet heat and tasting her desire, his delighted moan vibrating against her skin and making her gasp.
He returned to her clit, circling and caressing it, his hand sliding across her thigh until it reached the apex between her legs, and then he was thrusting two fingers into her, curving them upward and working her from the inside out. Her gasps were coming in high pitched pants as he pumped in and out of her, his tongue lapping like a man dying from thirst. Her walls were clenching around him, her fingers digging deep into his shoulders, her cries echoing breathlessly against the four walls of the closet.
Her hands were grasping at him then, tugging at his shoulders, and he broke away from his feast with a dissatisfied grumble as he hauled himself to his feet. Her fingers pushed his lab coat over and off his shoulders, tugging at the hem of his scrub top, her nails scraping against his toned abdomen as she worked it up his chest. He couldn't help but chuckle at the apparent annoyance on her flushed face, but his amusement was cut off when her lips attacked his, her tongue delving inside and dueling with his.
"I didn't agree to a broom closet shag just to get finger fucked, Stefan," she growled, her hands diving beneath the waistband of his pants and wrapping around his swollen cock. "I want you inside me now."
Stefan gritted his teeth as her hands stroked him from base to tip, and he grasped onto her hips firmly, shoving her backwards until her back collided with the metal shelving against the wall. A flash of arousal crossed her face, and he took a step back to admire her hooded eyes as he pushed his scrubs down to his ankles, grabbing a hold of her thighs and tugging her upwards, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist.
He gave her no warning when he entered her, thrusting upwards, swallowing her cry of pleasure with his lips as his fingers dug into her hips. He held still within her, giving her time to adjust to him, and then he withdrew nearly all the way before thrusting into her again, harder.
He'd come to recognize Rebekah's desires based solely on her gaze alone. Some nights she would peek at him from under her lashes, her eyes innocent and pleading, and he would find himself making slow, passionate love to her until the early hours of the morning. Sometimes her eyes would flash with a playfulness, and they would roll around in the sheets, laughing and stroking and caressing like a couple of high school kids on prom night.
Then there were times like today, when she her gaze would be heated and fierce, and he knew that their coupling would be anything but gentle and drawn out. No, this was one of those moments—one of those rare moments when Rebekah wanted him fast and hard, with a ferocity that often left him breathless.
She was gasping into his neck, her legs clenching around him as his thrusts became rougher. Her walls were tightening around him, and he buried his face into her neck as he moved them away from the wall and over to the metal desk that lay tucked into a corner. He sat her down on it, pressing a kiss to her lips before pushing her back, her elbows coming to rest against the top of the stainless steel, propping herself up as her chest heaved.
She stared at him, watching as he trailed a hand across her chest and down her stomach before wrapping both hands around her leg, pulling it up until her ankle rested on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her ankle, pulling her until her hips were propped at the edge of the desk, and then he thrust into her again, growling in pleasure at the new angle their position allowed them, and knowing from Rebekah's sharp cry that she approved as well.
His hips moved at a frantic pace, their skin slapping against each other as he pounded into her, watching through hooded eyes as she tossed her head back, her hands coming up to cup her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her voice was coming out in broken gasps—"yes, yes, oh fuck, harder, Stefan, I'm so close, please"—and he moaned through gritted teeth, determined to hold out until she crashed before him. He loosened his hold on her leg, reaching up with one hand and thumbing her clit, hearing her breath catch and her hands dug into her chest as her back arched, and then she was falling, her cries echoing around him.
Her walls clenched around him tightly, and his thrusts become sporadic as he chased after his own high, his orgasm making him gasp as the pressure between his legs exploding. He dropped her leg, collapsing against her, their chests heaving in tandem. Their skin was slick in a light sheen of sweat, and Stefan pressed a loving kiss to the skin above her neckline, feeling her thread her fingers through his hair. He stroked the skin of her arm, tracing the delicate curve of her wrist before covering her hand with his, linking their fingers and bringing them to his lips. Her pulse was thundering as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of her palm.
He raised his head, seeing her smiling brilliantly down at him, and he grinned, leaning up and capturing her lips with his. "You never cease to amaze me Rebekah," he whispered, feeling her lips curve up at his words.
She giggled, smiling when he pulled away and rose to his feet. She sat up, slowly slinging her legs down onto floor. "I'm much more than just a pretty face, Salvatore."
"And I love all of it," he said, pulling her to her feet and kissing her again, her dress falling to settle around her legs once more. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs caressing the sides of her face with adoration as they smiled at each other.
They dressed quickly, Rebekah slipping her thong back up her legs as Stefan shrugged into his shirt, tying the strings of his pants tightly before slipping his coat over his shoulders. He watched her fondly as she wiggled into her underwear, her hands tugging and pulling it rightfully into place under her dress, before she sighed, satisfied, and stepped forward to kiss him again.
"Thanks for rumble, Stallion," she said playfully, nipping at his lips when he growled at her. She grinned, patting his chest. "Same time tomorrow? My place. Bring the strawberries, and I promise it will be worth your while."
Stefan laughed, shaking his head when she sent him a coquettish wink, and he watched as she crossed to the door, unlocking it and quickly pulling it open, peeking her head around the door. She smiled at him once more before disappearing down the hall, and he waited a long moment before following her stead, wondering the whole time how he ever lived with his life without Rebekah Spadaccino.
"Spaduccino still has my hanging garment bag, that bitch! Ughhh... God I hate packing," Caroline said as stared at the one dress she held in one hand and another she held in her right hand, cradling her phone to her ear.
"You're only going away for the weekend. It's not like you're moving or something," Bonnie replied on the other end of the phone.
"Yeah but I don't know what to wear," Caroline whined, hitting the speakerphone button on her phone and putting it down on the dresser near her standing floor length mirror to hold up one dress in front of her and then the other. "I mean, what does a mistress wear to her first meeting with her lover?"
"I don't know. Isn't this more of a Katherine question?" Bonnie replied, putting her own phone down on her kitchen island on speakerphone and scooping ice cream into a bowl.
"I mean my first thought was the Monique Lhuillier dress with the sheer zebra print at the top, but now I'm thinking red might be a little..."
"Much?"
"I was going to say 'Katherine,' but yes, 'much,'" Caroline muttered as she tossed her phone over onto her bed next to the two dresses. She studied both dresses and sighed dramatically, "I mean the blue tulle's pretty, but I'm afraid it's too much, but not in a 'Katherine much' way...does that make any sense?! UGH THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING!"
Bonnie shook her head and laughed as she heard her best friend groan in frustration and heard the shuffling and clanging of hangers being moved around.
"Whatever you wear, you'll look beautiful, Care. Besides, it's not like you're going to a ball or something..."
"THAT'S JUST IT, BON!" Caroline all but screeched into her phone, tossing every dress she owned onto her bed and nearly covering her phone. "I looked up the hotel that we're going to be staying at, Hotel Monteleone, and it's like one of the oldest and grandest hotels in the US. Not just in New Orleans, Bon, but the entire US; like 1920's speakeasy old. So showing up in a ballgown might not get me as many strange looks as turning up in a sundress and a denim jacket would."
"Caroline, you're gorgeous and you'd turn heads wearing a paper bag," Bonnie said as she took a bite of ice cream.
"You flatterer," Caroline said, lightly dismissing her friend's compliment and smiling.
"That's what I'm here for," Bonnie replied, still swallowing a mouthful of ice cream and when she heard silence on the other end she immediately regretted talking with her mouth full.
"What are you eating?" Caroline said accusatorily.
"Hummus," Bonnie deadpanned even though she'd meant to sound casual.
"Bonnie Madelyn Bennett, the only person on Earth who's a worse liar than I am is you. What are you eating?" Caroline repeated her question.
"Ice cream," Bonnie finally confessed.
"You met someone," Caroline said, suspicion and interest in her voice. "The day you and Jeremy started going out, you nearly polished off a tub of mint chip from Costco."
"I hate that ice cream of all things is my tell," Bonnie said sadly, adding some sprinkles to her bowl of frozen goodness.
"Don't try to change the subject!" Caroline said, pushing her dresses into a pile so she could sit on her bed. "Who is he? What's his name? Is he cute? SPILL, WOMAN!" Bonnie sighed and poked at her ice cream for a while before answering; she knew Caroline would get in her car and drive to her apartment if she didn't start fessing up.
"His name is Kol. He's a Brit."
"Mmm, gotta love those accents..."
"I know! And his is just...I don't know, cheekier?"
"Hmm, 'cheeky'? Interesting...go on."
"He's got this sort of...I don't know, boyish charm, but he's got one of the dirtiest minds I've ever come across..."
"And you're friends with Katherine, so that's saying something," Caroline remarked.
"And...he's married."
"Damn," Caroline breathed, "and he was so promising. I bet you could use a little Baileys in your ice cream couldn't you?"
"Like a fucking mind reader," Bonnie muttered miserably, crossing to her liquor cabinet and grabbing the bottle and crossing back to the island. "And then I started thinking about Jeremy and..."
"Stop! Bonnie," Caroline said seriously, "you can't keep thinking, 'What would Jeremy say?' because you know what? Jeremy would be happy that you found someone after he died...you're not being unfaithful to him by falling for someone else, Bon. But, I know your rule about married men."
"I mean what kind of man flirts like that when they've got a wife at home?!" Bonnie suddenly outburst, waving her spoon around as she added more Bailey's to the bowl.
"Well in all fairness, naughty kids don't get presents in their stockings do they?"
"Haha, Care," Bonnie deadpanned, "his name is Kol, K-O-L not C-O-A-L, you blonde..." She heard the ringing of her doorbell and she took a big bite before crossing to the door.
"Yeah I don't know what kinda of hippie dippie weirdos you've got wandering into your shop with names like, 'Kol' and 'Summer Rain'..."
"Love the company you think I keep," Bonnie rolled her eyes with a smirk as she looked through the peephole on her door as Caroline kept talking.
"I mean, what kind of mother names her son 'Kol'? I don't know if it's better or worse than naming your child 'Apple' or 'Blue Ivy'... Bon? You still there?"
"Uh, yeah, I uh... I've gotta call you back," Bonnie said distantly.
"Sure, is everything okay?" Caroline asked, noting the change in Bonnie's tone and becoming a little worried about her friend.
"Yeah, it's just...let me call you back," Bonnie repeated and she and Caroline said their goodbyes and she hung up the phone quickly. She slid the chain off of the door and turned the lock and slowly opened the door.
"Hi, Bonnie. I don't know if you remember me but-"
"Anna, what are you doing here?"
Authors' Note:
We are SO EXCITED for you guys to read this and want to know what you think! Please leave reviews or message us on our Tumblr pages: a-little-blonde-distraction and klarolineepiclove
xo Becky & Alex