Author's Note: I don't know if you would call this the sequel to Disgust or the spiritual successor? Or fresh garbage on the landfill? It's probably the last one. I am in fact one of those people that puts salt in their tea. Especially chai tea and green tea. Granted, I have low blood pressure so that might only taste good to me and me only, but the Mongolia tea is totally a thing and Elijah has totally had it many times and it should totally be the traditional beverage when you have to have heavy conversations regarding your trashcan little brother, that's all I'm saying.

She expected this to some degree.

The warnings, the betrayed looks, the suspicion, the dissolving of friendships. All of this was to be expected when someone like Bonnie Bennett gets involved with someone like Klaus Mikaelson. Not "involved" like an alliance, which would have been okay, would have been understandable, according to Caroline and Damon (in their own separate conversations with her where they expressed their discontent.) But "involved" like, Klaus was waking her up to go to her classes on time and she knew his favorite blood type was O negative. Like, involved.

She had prepared for all of this. She let them yell. She did not argue in Klaus' defense because his actions could not be defended. He was guilty of everything they accused him of. No, they were perfectly justified in feeling the way they felt. Yes, she is going to continue to see him.

All of them question her sanity. But only Stefan brings up her happiness.

" I didn't know you for very long before you came into your powers," he says. " But I know you were happy then. You smiled a lot. Not so serious. Bubbly, you might say."

She most certainly would not say. " I was never bubbly Stefan."

Stefan shrugs. " I've seen evidence to the contrary."

Dammit Caroline. Her and her damn camera. " I told her to burn those pictures."

" But you're so cute in your little dance shoes."

Bonnie shakes her head. " You've seen too much. I'm going to have to kill you now."

" Your boyfriend would do it for you," he says so simply. As if they'd only been talking about the weather this whole time.

She frowns at his comment. Should she be on the defensive or is that a bad Stefan joke? " What is that supposed to mean?"

" It means you smile a lot more now. Especially when he's around. It means he makes you happy, and you deserve that more than anyone. And frankly, you make him happy too. I've never seen Klaus act like this. Not around any of his. . . uh, women. The way he is around you. If he thinks you're cold, he gives you his jacket without complaint. If there's no where to sit, he gives you his seat and he stands. If there's any plan or idea that'll even remotely put you in danger, he automatically snaps Damon's neck. Without question. And I mean, every time." Here, Stefan pauses, and sort of shrugs. " It also means that he cares enough about you to kill. That's why I'm not going to tell you to break up with him. Nothing would make him more dangerous."

She doesn't know if that explanation exactly makes her feel better.

Being in the Grill—as they are—only makes her more aware of how different her relationship is. (It is a relationship, isn't it? Don't you have to be "together" to break up?) The few couples around are all human. Teenage and adult. Not a single one is a thousand year old Original half vampire that just recently became half werewolf and a novice teenage witch from a legendary bloodline.

Like, maybe one of them is rich and from a founding family. That's as close as they can get.

Bonnie shifts in her seat. " Are you trying to say I need to worry about my safety if I break up with him?"

" If he were really upset, he would hurt everything around you because that would upset you more. And you might be willing to agree to anything to make him stop. It wouldn't matter if you were mad at him, he's over a thousand, he'll try to wait you out. I don't want that for you."

" You mean you don't want him to hurt Elena or Caroline to get to me."

She didn't mean to say that. She meant only to think it and maybe look a bit annoyed because she had to think it. Because it's been her reality too many times already. One thing about someone else putting you first is how much more obvious it is when other people put you second. So she clenches her jaw and lets the words stay out there.

She expects a similar reaction in Stefan. Some offense taken. Maybe even a smart comment back. The younger Salvatore only looks amused though. " No, now I'm trying to say that I don't want to worry about your safety if you break up with him. What are friends for if not offing your exes when they make asses out of themselves?"

He took it well. He's taking all of this well. Stefan is literally the only friend of all of her friends that is taking this well. Maybe this is why Stefan gets along with everyone. Which begs one more question. " Uh-huh. And what about Klaus? You guys used to be friends."

" He can cry into a pint of Ben and Jerry's like the rest of us. You're a much nicer friend. Bros before hos."

That, Bonnie is for certain, is a bad Stefan joke. But it makes her laugh anyway.

Preparing for her friends had been taxing enough. Being summoned to afternoon tea with the older brother of her boyfriend (that is what Klaus is, right? Her boyfriend? Meeting the family means it's serious doesn't it? Doesn't that automatically make him the boyfriend?) is not something she finds she can prepare for.

Elijah might be what some consider the "nicer" one, but he can be just as unpredictable. Just as violent. Just as temperamental. Either with Klaus or against him, as their past would indicate. Bonnie doesn't know what he could want with her. But it's safer to go and find out rather than wait and see.

The last thing she wants is to be some obstacle or weapon between vampire brothers again.

She is cordial, but wary when he welcomes her inside their family's mansion. He pulls out a chair, she sits in it. He offers her tea, she declines. Then he offers again, specifically with the tea being made the way she likes it: with an abundance of honey and the addition of salt.

" What did you just say?"

" You have become Niklaus' favorite—if not his only—topic of conversation as of late." If he notices her blushing at that admission, he doesn't show it. " He mentioned how you like to take your tea; with salt and honey. Which, in and of itself, is not so unusual. Suutei tsai is probably the most common drink you'll find in Mongolia to this day."

It makes her feel like a child whenever vampires do that. " Su-what?"

" Salted milk tea."

Klaus remembers the way she likes her tea. Not only that, but he's been talking about it—her—to his family. Surely that means he's elevated himself to boyfriend status. The heat in her face creeps down her neck and at least if she has tea, she can blame it on that.

The familiar flavor relaxes her somewhat. But it isn't enough to distract her from the fact that she is sitting across from Elijah Mikaelson. And he called her here because he wanted something. That something definitely has to do with his brother—he did not bring Klaus up by mean happenstance—and now has to do with her. " You didn't invite me over to discuss the history of Mongolian drinks."

" Though that is an interesting subject, you are correct. I did not." His cup of tea returns to its saucer and he gives her his full attention. " I wanted to speak to you about Niklaus and your relationship with him."

The comfort of the warm tea wears off rather quickly as her stomach clenches in apprehension. " If you're about to tell me we shouldn't see each other, I'm going to throw this tea in your face."

Despite the threat, Elijah only frowns. " That would be a terrible waste of tea. And not at all my intention."

" Is your intention some vague threat about how I better not break his heart or you'll break my neck?"

Now he actually looks offended. " Come now, Miss Bennett, surely you think me better than that."

" It was my understanding that death threats were a part of the whole 'meet the family' process. Especially when that family is the Original one."

To that the Original huffs and presses his fingers to his temple. " Granted. Though that is precisely what I wish to avoid for all parties involved."

Bonnie briefly entertains the thought of asking him what it feels like to have a headache that lasts a hundred years. It must be how you can tell you're a Mikaelson, she reasons.

" My brother, as you know, can be incredibly stubborn. For most of his life, Niklaus has not believed happiness to be something that he could attain. Not something he deserved. Say what you will about his aspirations for power and asinine attempts at controlling any and all around him—and I will agree with you—but this is something fundamentally different. He is desperate to be loved. Yet at the same time, desperate to avoid it so that he cannot lose it or have it taken away. More than once he has taken steps towards the very thing that he desires, only to destroy it once he is close enough. It may not be a conscious decision every time, but Niklaus possesses a history of self-sabotage."

She knows that Elijah isn't telling her all this for the sake of entertainment. There's a point to it, and she isn't sure yet if she will like it when they get there. She knew that getting involved with Klaus wouldn't be easy—nothing in her life ever seems to be easy anymore—but could it be worse than she thought?

" You, on the other hand, Miss Bennett, he pursued with the single-mindedness for which he is known. I daresay you have broken the cycle twice over. You do make Niklaus happy. In a way that he has not been, perhaps, since we were human. I can tell that you feel strongly for him, and I can tell you that he needs it. I should very much like that to continue for the both of you."

After all the time she's spent telling herself (and her reflection in the mirror) that no one else's opinion matters but her own, she never imagined that Elijah would be one of the people cheering them on. In as much as Elijah can cheer somebody on. His demeanor has softened and she almost feels bad for threatening him with hot tea earlier. " I-. . . thank you. So do I."

" However," he begins solemnly. The glimpse of the big brother disappears behind the Original vampire. " If at any point Niklaus becomes too much for you to deal with, you must tell me so that I may deal with him."

The gravity of his statement makes the whole room feel heavy. If Klaus becomes too much to deal with? Her mouth is open to ask just what that means, but then it shuts again. There have been times when Klaus has done things that have given her pause. Sometimes, he looks at her like he's trying to figure something out. Like he's seeing the time before her and the time after her. Like he's trying to decide if this is what he wants. Like he's weighing his options. He could stick with this and see what happens, be happy with what he has. Or he could end it—end her—and be free of his fear.

At least once in staying over at his house, she had awakened to find him sitting in the dark—only lit by his amber eyes—watching her and drinking heavily. She'd asked him what he was doing. As soon as he heard her voice, his gaze sharpened. Then dulled. Then he simply shook his head and stood. He came to the big, luxurious bed, pushed her over to her own side when she refused to relinquish his-because they have sides now-and gathered her up in his arms. Arms that locked like steel girders.

Bonnie takes a breath. " What exactly is 'too much' to you?"

Elijah takes a moment to think about this. A moment that does nothing to comfort her. The longer he takes, the more concerned she becomes. " Thought he does not have many he would claim to do so, Niklaus does love. And he loves very hard. He always has, even when we were children. He does not know any other way and to those who have never experienced such a thing, he can be. . . overwhelming. Every relationship has its ups and down, its natural ebb and flow. It would be unfortunate if things did not work out between you—but such is the nature of love. Not even immortals are immune to that. I will not, however, let him burn the bridge he is standing on because he allows his fear and desperation to get the best of him. If there is any chance that the two of you might find happiness together, he must not be allowed to ruin it. It should be a decision you both make, not a knee-jerk reaction to centuries old paranoia."

Bonnie is tired when she returns home. Dinner has to be made, but first she wants to get out of her clothes and maybe flop on her bed for a while. She has a collection of baggy, house-lounging clothes to choose from. But what she really wants is the sweats with Whitmore printed on the side in blue letters and Klaus' blue hoodie that she sort of accidentally wore home and never returned. She needs it more than he does anyway.

The sleeves completely consume her hands. She has to roll them up periodically, but it's a small price to pay to be wrapped up in his scent. She's seen everyone today except her hybrid, so this will have to do. Maybe he'll call her. Or maybe he'll just come by later after he's fed.

" Hello, love."

Or maybe he'll be right there lounging on her bed. With his boots on. He knows she hates that, bratty hybrid.

" Klaus?" She's surprised. " I didn't hear you come in. And get on my bed. With your shoes on."

" I've been invited," says the hybrid as he raises himself up and ambles towards her. All lazy gait and lack of concern. " I am still welcome in my witch's home, am I not?"

" Yes." She looks up at him, taking in his gaze, the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders despite how placid he appears. The pout on his face that could give way to a tantrum. " You're just the person I wanted to see. You're the only person I want to see right now."

There's a flicker of something. A smile that almost makes it across his face before it fades away. The kind that makes him turn his head away. A humble, almost bashful hybrid. Young, and in love and not quite sure what to do with himself because of it. Such a sight brings a smile of her own. On her bedside table she can see a steaming cup of tea waiting. She doesn't need super senses to know that not only is it chamomile, but that salt and honey have been added to as well.

He draws back when she reaches for him. Not enough to truly spurn her, just enough to keep from being distracted. He's supposed to be angry about something. Klaus Mikaelson loses his temper like it's a bodily function. But it's different with her. He has always had trouble staying mad at her. " Me? Not Elijah? Are you sure? You two have become so close lately."

Bonnie's hand drops to rest on his shoulder instead. Of course he knows. He can probably scent his brother on her even with his own clothing over her body. Not that she had gotten so close to Elijah herself, but really, any hint would do. " Not that close. He stayed far enough away that I couldn't throw tea on him. But he was civil."

" Stefan is to be expected, always trying to wipe himself clean with his heroic complex. I must admit, though, I am bit curious as to why my dear brother wanted so badly to see you alone. Why he took such pains to ensure that I was not around when he did." He moves slowly, lazily, raising a hand to touch her cheek. Even as his eyes burn to yellow.

Despite that, she finds herself leaning into the touch. Her eyes closing as she rests her hand to the back of his. " He just wanted to talk about you."

" And what did he have to say about his bastard little brother?" The words are harsh, but his voice is soft. That rough, deep, intimate tone he takes when he wakes her for class but doesn't actually want her to go. When he comes straight to her house after having a row with his siblings instead of taking it out on his canvases or some hapless human. When he forbids her from interfering in vampire matters because she might get hurt. Yes, she knows this voice. " Trying to warn you away from my wicked ways? Perhaps my unreasonable temper and tendency to go overboard when trying to prove a particularly violent point? There's a multitude of red flags he could have waved in your face, love. Tell me which ones were your favorite."

There's a fluttering in her chest. If she were anyone else, it might be fear. If she were anyone else, she might have taken those red flags given to her by friend and ex-foe and handed them over. That would have been the end of Bonnie and Klaus.

But the fluttering is not fear. She recognizes his fear—the fear Elijah warned her about. Instead of making her worried or afraid, the fluttering sensation settles into warmth and sinks into her bones. Like her cup of salted tea.

Klaus is upset with the both of them. Elijah for seeking to turn her away from him and her for allowing him to do it. To throw away what they've built so far over the lies—or brutal truths—his brother might have bestowed upon her. To prove his worst fears correct, that even someone like her—who is kind and good—cannot find anything worth loving in someone like him—who is cruel and bad.

Even with what he perceives as her rejection, his hand curves around her jaw possessively. Even that might not be enough for him to let her go. He might never let her go. Trying to leave him might make him dangerous, just as Stefan said. His efforts to make her stay might prove even worse, as Elijah said.

No one has ever wanted her this way before. No one has ever been so afraid, so willing to resort to such terrible things just to keep her at his side. She's seen it to some degree with the Salvatores, but Klaus is different. Damon will sacrifice. Stefan makes sacrifices. Klaus kills.

" My favorite," she begins softly, doing nothing to ease the way his fingers dig into her cheek. " Is tea with honey and salt. Elijah knew that because you told him. You told him because you haven't been able to stop talking about me. He told me I make you happy. Stefan told me I make you happy. That you're trying so hard to do the same for me. That you want this as badly as you've ever wanted anything. And I do too."

His hand relaxes, but does not release. His eyes have slipped down to watch her mouth move. Mesmerized by the shape of her pink lips. The pad of his thumb traces their shape once, twice. " What else did they tell you?"

" That we deserve to be happy."

She might as well have slapped him for the way he looks at her. His eyes search, looking for any sign of deceit. Any hint that this could be a trick. That she does not mean those words. That they don't mean them either. That they're all against him. They don't want Bonnie to love him. He does not deserve happiness.

And yet, though her face flushes in that warm red it always does when their eye contact is too intense, too long, too much for such a modest little witch, she keeps his gaze. She wants him to see. There is nothing to hide. She is not afraid. She has not been taken from him. She has heard the terrible things and still she stands before him.

The tension melts out of his shoulders. Bonnie feels her dresser press into her back as Klaus overtakes her front. His hands on either side of her, touching the varnished top and caging her in. When he leans down, she leans up and their foreheads touch. She can feel his relief. His ease and surrender to what he has been wrestling with for so long. Even if she didn't close her eyes, she wouldn't see anything other than him anyway. He wants to take up her whole world and she wants to let him.

When she makes a soft noise of contentment, his hand curls around her hip. Only a light squeeze, before it moves up and down her side. " Don't leave me, Bonnie."

Of course, the last and most heartfelt warning comes from Klaus himself. He may not be aware of all the damage he can do, but he knows of some. And he would keep her from all of it. Stay right in the middle of the bridge he's standing on. Not have to go back or forward alone, but stay right where he is with her. Where the two of them can see everything and decide where to go. If this bridge burns, they may burn up together. Perhaps he fears that more than anything else.

Her hands settle on his chest, feeling him warm and solid and real. This Klaus. Her Klaus. The temper, the fangs, the grins, the smirks, the scars on his back she can see, the scars in his mind she can't, the paint smears, the o negative, the books on baroque art theory, the multitude of necklaces he's always finding and losing, the blood on his hands one day, the homemade tomato sauce the next. He is everything they say he is, and everything she needs and so much more.

Bonnie bumps their noses together on her first attempt to kiss him. The second attempt is more successful, if for no other reason than he lifts her atop the dresser. It's soft and almost chaste. He's still holding back. Trying to hold back. But he can't deny himself. He is far too greedy a creature. The fear of losing her is too fresh. A taste he wishes to rid himself of as soon as possible. His arm locks around her waist and he bears down.

The hands on his chest slide up to lock around his neck. She pulls hard, answering his hunger with her own. Something—several somethings—fall to the floor when his body bumps into the dresser. He fits in the space between her legs—he always has. She locks those legs around him at the same time he roughly pulls on the hoodie. Just enough to bare the skin of her neck, her shoulder, whatever he can get to leave a mark on.

His mouth is hot, wanton, welcome. She should feel the prick of his fangs, but there's only a scrape as he keeps them from her skin. " It's okay," she urges somewhat breathlessly, stroking the back of his neck. Fingers curl gentle and encouraging in his hair. " It's okay. I'm all yours."

Over his shoulder, she can see her tea growing cold while he has a sip of her. She wonders if her blood has the same effect on him. Her blood, the salt of her sweet, the honey between her legs.

He does not leave her wondering for long.