It's not often Cami gets to leave work before two a.m. When another bartender asks to trade shifts with her, she's more than happy to agree, and walk out of work just after ten. Jazz music, laughter, and the familiar beats of the French Quarter greet her when she exits Rousseau's to make the trek to her apartment. Cami's already dreaming of Netflix and wine and maybe a bubble bath as she turns a corner and collides with Will.

Lucien's death freed his hijacked mind and Cami and Vincent did what they could to bring Will into the fold so he stood a better chance of surviving life in New Orleans. He changes course without complaint and entertains her with stories of some of his more colorful arrests. They joke about drunk tank confessions and businessmen trying to convince their wives they were busted for prostitution because they needed directions.

She's still laughing when he leans in and covers her mouth with his once they reach her apartment. His lips are warm and soft and her surprise turns into something else altogether. Cami lets herself get lost in the kiss and the man.

It's over too fast and they're watching each other. She's trying to catch her breath and he's winded too. Her tongue darts out to trace her lips and his eyes follow the movement. He takes a step toward her and then his phone destroys the moment.

He apologizes. She suggests a rain check and he's grinning when he walks away. She turns to unlock her door and that's when she sees him. Klaus. He's watching her with a dark look on his face.

Guilt consumes her and she wants to apologize. For what? She doesn't owe Klaus an explanation. She chose to kiss a hot guy who she's gotten to know well over the last few months. Klaus is her patient and they have boundaries.

Those rational thoughts don't stop her from leaving the door open behind her once she crosses the threshold. She's hanging up her coat when Cami hears the door close with more force than necessary. She turns and faces Klaus. He stands steps away in the foyer, waiting. The dark look remains in place. She knows rage simmers beneath it.

The need to apologize lingers on the tip of her tongue. Cami fights the urge because she did nothing wrong. Klaus has no business staring at her with that disapproving look on his face. Or the heat in his eyes. Jealousy. Her pulse quickens.

"Do you have something to say?"

"I don't trust him."

"He's on vervain now and free from all of Lucien's compulsion. And yours."

"He knows too much and that makes him dangerous."

"Not to me." Maybe it's a low blow, but she sees it hit the mark. His eyes narrow and Cami feels empowered in a way she refuses to overanalyze. She takes a step closer to Klaus. "Why does my personal life matter to you?"

"You're my therapist."

Cami rolls her eyes. She's tired of this game. Tired of letting him set all the rules. "If I'm just your therapist, why are you in my apartment at this time of the night? Why do you seem so angry?" She wants to push his buttons.

"Am I no longer allowed concern for your well-being? Does that break your precious boundaries?"

"This isn't about my safety." Cami refuses to back down. Her eyes stay locked with his. She knows what he's doing. He wants to keep the conversation focused on the potential danger. But friendly concern is not putting heat in his voice.

They've played this game for too long. The push and pull, the so close, yet so far away. But he always leaves. Or he shoves at her until she has no choice but to flee. She's tired of it. Drained. That's why she set the boundaries in the first place. She thought if they could just keep it professional the longing would start to fade.

She sees now it was a terrible plan. Maybe she'd known from the start. But desperate times and all that. No more. She's done hiding and rationalizing and doing her best to bury whatever's between them under the guise of therapy.

"Tell me the real reason you don't want me to be near Will."

The challenge hangs between them, making the silent apartment spark like a live wire. She's pushed him before. To be a better person. To think of the innocent lives swept up in the supernatural battles. But this is different. This is personal. This is the part of himself he keeps locked away. The part he has no way of controlling once its set free.

She wants to know once and for all what's in his heart.

He takes a step closer to her. She knows he can hear her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her ribcage. He can probably see a hint of fear despite the steadiness she's attempting to project. She can't help being afraid. Not of him. But of this moment and what it could mean. What she wants it to mean. The flame of hope in her heart she's tried so hard to extinguish burns bright.

All her cards are in his hands.

"Do you believe the detective can bring you happiness?" Klaus cradles her cheek in the palm of his hand. Her skin ignites. "Does his kiss taste of forever?"

Cami blinks. That's all she can seem to manage as her gaze drops to his lips. Her insides sizzle. Whatever control she fooled herself into believing she had slips away. She knows she needs to take back the reins, but the thrumming of her pulse clouds her ability to think.

Not even five minutes ago, Will's kiss sparked her and now all she can do is stand still as Klaus' gaze burns her alive.

She sees it then. A flash of triumph in his eyes. He's doing this on purpose. Again. He knows how she feels. It doesn't matter that she's never spoken the words. She barely allows herself to think them, even in the quietest moments when it's just her and her thoughts lying in bed at three a.m. But they're connected in a way she doesn't fully understand. Despite the thousand or so years of existence he has on her, Cami doubts he understands either.

But it's there and they know it. They trust each other. As much as he can allow himself to trust anyone. And that's the problem. Arms' length will never be enough for either of them. It's not fair and she will not throw away something that could be real for the ghost of possibility. She wants more than that.

"I don't know. Maybe Will's a forever kind of guy or maybe he's a bad breakup I'll have to put behind me six months from now. But he's something. Or he could be. He wants to be. What do you want?"

War rages behind his eyes. For someone who works so hard to keep his emotions locked away, Klaus' eyes often spoke volumes. At least to those who knew how to read him and Cami counts herself among those lucky few. She recognizes the emotions. Longing. Regret. Fear. Then his face settles into a familiar mask and she knows what he's going to say before he opens his mouth.

"What I want is for you to be safe." His hand drops from her face and it's as if someone poured a bucket of ice water over her head. "If you think the detective is the man who can give you security, I want you to accept his offer."

She doesn't trust herself to speak. Now her emotions are scrambling for control and the urge to beg and plead is desperate for the lead. She saw this going down a different path, but it's the same trail they've traveled since the beginning. Nothing is going to change if she keeps beating her head against the unbreakable brick walls Klaus stacks between them.

"Was there something else you needed?" Cami's proud she manages a steady voice. Her stomach drops like it's on a never ending roller coaster loop, but her eyes are clear. Determined. Detached. In her mind's eye, she sees her emotions packing themselves in neat little boxes to be shipped off to storage in some far flung recess of her brain.

Klaus looks at her for a long moment, but any shred of hope she had is already tucked away in a box. "Nothing that cannot wait. Good night, Camille."

"Good night." He exits the way he came in with only the soft click of the door closing behind him to indicate he'd ever been there at all.

(~)(~)(~)

Being with Will is easy. She can open up to him about the burdens her family set on her shoulders. Not just her mother's high expectations or her father's failure to care about her, but the legacy of the O'Connell family in New Orleans. The respect from those who knew the truth and the power the family name carries. The distrust and suspicious looks from those who only knew what they read in the newspapers. She shares the daily struggles of still working at the bar because her fledgling practice doesn't have clients lining up outside the door.

She continues to consult on supernatural police cases with Vincent. The three of them cover up more than they solve, but Will knows now that's how things work in New Orleans. He hates it, but so does she. She wants more than just dark objects to defend them over those who mean them harm. But she knows there's no way to gain any semblance of power in the quarter and the best she can do is try and keep the peace.

Six months pass and she thinks she might be in love with him. He makes her laugh and he challenges her and sometimes they fight because she knows the supernatural world and its frustrations better than he does. He wants to push and she holds him back. She won't let him pay the price even if it means other people will. She's selfish when it comes to his life.

Maybe that's what makes it love.

The sex certainly doesn't give her any reason to complain. Or the romantic dinners he makes for her or even the simple, human moments. Comfortable clothes and Netflix on the couch when they share a rare night off or a quiet weekend. Those moments make her feel safe and happy and she believes that just might be love and she could see it being the forever kind.

But that potential love is the furthest thing from her mind in this moment. She's sprawled across the desk in the back room of her secret apartment. Her legs are locked around Klaus' hips as he moves inside her. She feels too much and not enough. Every stroke sends her flying toward the edge and she fists her fingers in his curls and tries to bring their bodies even closer. Every touch scorches her skin and she wants to do the same to him. This feeling. This moment. Everything they've been through that's led them here pours out and it's too much and not enough.

It's not what she expected when Klaus burst in and demanded her help. Cami had spent the morning combing through her family's encyclopedia of New Orleans covens. Some of the witches were threatening Davina's fragile hold on the Regent title. According to Hayley, there were whispers among the werewolves that the witches wanted to recruit them to their cause. Even though most wolves still chose to stand behind their queen, the allure of power called to some of the disenchanted. Cami was tasked with finding any weakness that could dissuade the witches from starting another war.

Klaus barged in without bothering to knock and began ranting at her about the growing tensions. His solution was to kill the troublemakers and make an example of them. After hours of coming up empty in her search for new information, Cami told him she wasn't in the mood for one of his 'let's kill everyone because that always worked out super well' monologues. He gave her his wounded puppy look – the one dripping with enough sarcasm to flood the entire city. Then he'd added insult to injury and quipped over her precious boyfriend not doing enough to ease her frustrations.

She'd slapped him without thinking twice. For about ten seconds, he'd been stunned silent and then he'd had the nerve to smirk at her. The patented Klaus Mikaelson smirk that screamed 'I'm the baddest and the scariest and no one is better than me'. She hated that smirk. It was childish and petty and self-serving and a laundry list of other bad qualities that left her wanting to slap him again.

She moves with him now. The desk rattles beneath her and she wonders how long it can support their combined weight. But the thought vanishes when he angles his hips and the pleasure coursing through every inch of her body robs her of the ability to think. Not that she minds. She's never believed toes curling was a real thing, but as Klaus fucks her with reckless abandon, she discovers the sensation not only exists, it's incredible.

His mouth finds hers again and he steals what's left of her breath. She doesn't care. Breathing is overrated. Everything is overrated. Nothing she's ever experienced had come close to what she's feeling in his moment. She returns the kiss and grips his hair tighter, tugs him closer. Her body hums beneath him and she arches against the desk when he finds the sweet spot. The kiss breaks and she's panting. Her head falls against the desk and she's happy to lie there, but his hand cradles the base of her neck and tilts her head so their eyes meet. He watches her as he drives them both over the edge.

The smirk had been the final straw. For months, she'd ignored his snide comments about Will. Cami let them go because they had boundaries. She allowed him to come to her for therapy. They each sought the other out when supernatural crises required teamwork. Sometimes he swung through Rousseau's and always left a hundred dollar tip, even when he didn't compel away the other customers. Thy pretended things were the way they were supposed to be because denial worked for them.

But cracks have a way of seeping through even the strongest of floodgates. Will didn't like how often Klaus showed up unannounced. He'd never asked Cami for the specifics of their relationship and she'd never offered them. They'd all made their choice that first night Will kissed her and she'd asked Klaus to declare his feelings once and for all. That had been his chance and he'd told her to move on with Will. She wouldn't let the what ifs and the almosts hold her back from happiness.

So the snide remarks and his need to push her boundaries like a kindergartner on the playground built up until that damn smirk of his set off her temper. She'd ordered him to leave. She'd told him he wasn't welcome there any more without an invitation and if he didn't respect her wishes, she would ask Davina to use her magic to block him from crossing the threshold.

The smirk had slipped from his face and she the hurt in his eyes before he slid his mask of indifference into place. He turned to go and she grabbed his arm. Didn't think, just reached for him. "If I'm just your therapist, why do you seem angry?"

His back stiffened and she knew he remembered that day just as much as she did. He hadn't answer her. He'd hauled her against him and kissed her until she forgot her own name. She'd pushed everything from the desk onto the floor. They'd torn at each other's clothes.

Now she's lying on the couch and her head is spinning from the unexpected use of vamp speed. He's fixed his pants and is pulling his jacket over his ruined shirt. She sits up and makes sure the blanket he'd draped across her stays in place.

"You never answered my question."

"Didn't I, love?"

The smirk returns and the corners of her lips twitch. But she can't smile at him. Not now. Not yet. Not until he tells her the truth.

"Klaus, please." Her legs feel like jello, but she manages to get to her feet. She doesn't need him to say that he wants forever or other eternal promises. All she wants is to hear him say that he won't stay away because he wants to be with her more than he wants to keep her safe. She needs to know that he's not going to shove her aside every time danger rears its ugly head.

This is New Orleans.

Danger lurks around every corner.

She can live with that. She's an O'Connell. It's part of her blood. She will fight for the city and its people until her dying day. She wants him to say he wants her at his side. Not as his therapist. Or the keeper of the human faction. Not even as his lover. She wants more. She thinks he does too. All she needs is the truth.

"I have always craved beautiful things that were never meant to be mine." Klaus closes the distance between them and caresses her cheek. There's no heat in his touch this time. Only pain. "You deserve more than a target on your back because of your association with me. Return to the detective."

He's gone in another blur of vamp speed and Cami stares at the closed door for a long time. She wants to rage and scream and break everything in sight. Maybe she should just burn the place to the ground and sear the ashes from her memory. Or stop taking her vervain and let Marcel or Hayley compel it away. But that would be the easy fix. The coward's solution. Cami knows she needs to remember this moment and all the moments leading up to it. She won't make this mistake again. Her heart can't heal any further cracks.

Maybe he loves her enough to be selfless and let her go. But she loves him too much to see the good sense in the gesture.

(~)(~)(~)

Cami tells Will everything. She doesn't know if honesty is a selfish choice, but she wants him to have all the facts. He's devastated and she doesn't blame him for walking out on her. She spends the weekend in her apartment with the shades drawn and drowns her sorrows in ice cream and wine. She cries until there's not a drop of liquid left in her system. When the sun rises on Monday morning, she showers, makes herself look presentable, and heads to her tiny office to try and help her patients become better people than her.

She avoids the Mikaelson family aside from Hayley. Both she and Davina recognize something is wrong, but neither pushes when Cami insists she doesn't want to talk about it. They make some headway with the wolves, but the witches refuse to budge. Marcel gets antsy when Davina's life hangs in the balance, but Hayley and Elijah rally their respective factions to keep everyone in line. Life in the quarter goes on and Cami files her pain into the neat stack of boxes buried in her mind.

Will waits outside the bar one night after she locks the door. They walk in silence until they reach her apartment. It stays between them like a dark cloud over a picnic when they sit side by side on the couch. She keeps quiet because it's the least she can do for him. After a full twenty minutes, he finally turns to her.

He's thought long and hard and decided to leave New Orleans behind. Will believes there's a lot of good he can do in the world, but the city will forever be lost as long as the supernatural call it home. He tells her he loves her and wants her to be happy. But he doesn't think she'll find it in New Orleans and definitely not with Klaus Mikaelson. He asks her to leave with him, to start a life with him, to go somewhere they have a chance to build a future. He wants happiness and she does too. She just needs to want it more than she wants Klaus. He kisses her temple and asks her to think about it.

Despite the late hour, Cami walks through the quarter. She passes the church where she lost her brother and her uncle. What once stood as a symbol of their faith now serves as a vampire fight club. She doesn't blame Marcel for claiming the space, but it illustrates Will's point. As much as they wanted to do good for people, the supernatural grip on the city will always hold them back.

She finds herself at the cemetery, the witches' safe haven. Cami recognizes two of the men she passes as members of Hayley's pack and a third as one of Marcel's latest recruits. Davina must be there somewhere and she imagines Josh is too. Both are too young to suffer this much. Guilt churns in her stomach like acid. She should be able to help her friend. An entire secret room of dark objects and a hundred years of journals and documentation should provide answers.

Or Will's right again and humans had no business wading into the war in the first place.

It's a question she's still contemplating when she finds herself at the compound. Cami doesn't remember turning on the street, but it seems like a fitting end to her tour of the city. So many terrible things happened inside these walls. That would never change either. Not when Klaus and his siblings had spent a thousand years making enemies. Not when the imbalance of power threatened anyone who passed through the quarter.

She lets herself in through the courtyard. The house is quiet, but that just means there's no imminent threat. She doubts any of its residents are asleep. Cami passes the living room and the study and climbs the stairs to the second floor. The light spills out from beneath the doors of Klaus' drawing room. She hesitates for the briefest of moments before raising her hand to knock.

Klaus throws open the doors and if he's surprised to see her, his expression gives nothing away. They haven't spoken in almost ten days. It's not a new record, but it feels like an eternity considering what happened prior. The carefully placed storage boxes do nothing to prevent her skin from remembering every touch.

Now they're face to face and she doesn't know where to start. "We need to talk."

He steps aside and Cami moves into the room. He's working on a painting, but the canvas is angled away and she doesn't want to pry. Or maybe she does and that's worse somehow. That's her pattern. Always wanting just one more peek into his life. It used to be her desire to understand what made him tick. But it's been a long time since she could claim their association had anything to do with her professional interest.

"Care for a drink?" Klaus is already pouring one for himself so she nods and watches as he fills a second glass. He passes it to her and holds his out in a silent toast. He finishes his in one swallow and returns to grab the bottle.

She follows his lead. The burn feels familiar and satisfying against her throat and maybe that's a problem too. She sets her glass down and rubs her hands over her arms. She spent an hour walking the city without incident. Two minutes with Klaus and her skin is covered in goosebumps. She blames her nerves for the chill and lets the words tumble out of her mouth.

"Will wants me to leave New Orleans with him."

Cami tells Klaus about their conversation. She explains Will's need to make a difference and how that's what she wants too. She doesn't want to turn her back on the people who matter to her, but doesn't she deserve happiness too?

"Isn't that what you keep telling me?" She snatches the bottle from Klaus and takes a long drink. Somehow, she feels better now that everything is out in the open. Too keyed up to stand still, Cami paces the room with the bottle. "This city isn't for everyone."

He joins her at the window and they both stare at the French Quarter sprawled beneath them. He's found a home here for himself and his family. He'll continue to fight for it. She knows that. Cami also knows she could keep fighting for it the same way her uncle did. The same way generations of the O'Connell family fought. That could be her purpose in life.

Or it could be a pipe dream. A fantasy woven by her troubled mind to deal with the suffering and the anger she feels on behalf of the humans. But maybe those humans deserve a better champion than her.

"Do you love him?"

The quiet question startles her so much she drops the bottle. Klaus catches it. Cami sees the reflection of his face in the glass and he's looking down at the bottle in his hand instead of at her. She doesn't answer right away. She's not worried about his reaction. They're past the point of hurt feelings and half-truths. She doesn't answer because she's never allowed herself to fully consider if she's already in love with Will.

Her heart's always been too focused on Klaus.

"I do love him." Standing beside Klaus looking out over New Orleans, Cami lets her feelings rise to the surface. Of course she loves Will. He's a wonderful man with a good heart. He wants to give her a second chance she doesn't deserve. He wants to take her away from this city of death and build a life with her. He makes her happy and she knows he's right. They can leave this city behind and heal together. They can move to the other end of the country or the opposite end of the Earth and find people to help. They can make a difference.

Klaus' eyes remain downcast and Cami turns sideways to face him. "This needs to be goodbye. You can't come looking for me or send people to watch more or any of that. I can't be happy with Will unless we have a clean break. I'm sorry."

She waits for him to say something or to at least look in her direction, but he does neither. A lump rises in her throat and tears threaten, but Cami forces them back. She won't fall apart here. All she can do is hope Klaus cares enough to keep his distance. Because she can't play this game anymore. She can't watch her life pass by because he can't or won't give her what she wants.

Cami makes it all the way to the stairs before the tears blur her vision. She rubs at them with the back of her hand and quickens her pace. She needs to leave this place in her rearview mirror. Cami reaches the courtyard and she hears the movement from the balcony, but she won't look back. She can't.

Then she has no choice because Klaus leaps from the balcony. She's too stunned to say anything when he lands in front of her, blocking her path. She stops and waits. Waits for him to say his final peace and end this stalemate they keep circling.

"You belong here. A better man would let you go. But I am not a better man. I need you here, Camille."

He's told her that before in this same courtyard when he'd revealed the truth about Aiden's death. Not even a full week later, he'd shared another plan with her as he drank from her neck and left her passed out on the ground. That was the price of loving an immortal hybrid with raging impulse control issues.

"I can't be your therapist anymore. Or your confidant. Or whatever you call this. I can recommend someone. Maybe Vincent. You could pay him in booze."

"He is not you and this is not about our chats."

Cami rolls her eyes. Even after all this time, he still won't call it therapy. "Then what is this about? I'm tired, Klaus. Don't you see that? Let me go."

"You claim to love the detective." He says the words like they bring him physical pain. Cami's guilt resurfaces right on schedule.

"I'm not trying to hurt you."

"You claim to love him," Klaus repeats as if she hadn't spoken. "But you're showing up at my door in the middle of the night. You came here because you wish for me to stop you from leaving. You know the kind of man I am, Camille."

She does know the kind of man he is. He's capable of selfless acts when he chooses to be, but those moments are few and far between. He's already filled his quota when it comes to her. Not once, but twice now, he's told her to find happiness with Will. He won't do it a third time. She knows that. She knew that before she decided to leave her apartment and walk through the quarter.

Denial is a commanding force, but at some point, it fades into delusion. She's spent her adult life studying psychology and patterns of human behavior. She knows what the mind can do and while it serves as a powerful protector, it's not an impenetrable shield. She can tell herself all she wants that it will be simple enough to pack away her feelings for Klaus and for this city and move on with her life. It's the smart choice. Rational. Safe.

She didn't come here to say goodbye to him.

As if sensing her thoughts, Klaus takes hold of her and presses her back against the wall. She brings her hands up, not to push him away, but to fist in the material of his shirt. Her heart sets a frantic pace beneath her chest and she can't seem to stop her breathing from coming out in harsh gasps. He presses his hips into hers, pinning her to the wall as he takes her face in his hands.

"Do you love him more than you love me?"

"No." Maybe she could if she let herself. If she pushed Klaus out of her heart and left town with Will. Maybe if they started over and lived a normal human existence and surrounded themselves with people who believed the supernatural only occurred in movies and books. Maybe that version of Cami O'Connell could fall head over heels in love with Will and be happy for the rest of her life.

Klaus rests his forehead against hers and she can feel the beat of his heart under her palm. It matches the frantic speed of hers and fresh tears pool in the corners of her eyes. There are a million things she knows she should say. There are a million things she wants to say. But she's frozen in place, her eyes fixed on his.

"You cannot leave New Orleans because I would be lost without you just as you would be lost without me." Klaus brushes the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb and the simple touch awakens each of her nerve endings. No matter how much she's tried to pretend otherwise, the memory of his skin lingers over hers.

She's been on a crash course, hurling toward this from the moment he walked into Rousseau's, and placed a hundred dollar bill on the bar. The road may have diverged from time to time, but there's only one ending for her. He got under her skin and she's never going to be able to get him out of her system. She can't walk away. She doesn't want to walk away. She didn't come here to say goodbye.

"Tell me." With her hand over his heart and their eyes locked together, Cami waits.

"Seeing you with the detective makes me want to tear his head from his neck." Rage darkens his eyes and sends a shudder down her spine. But it's not fear. It's something else altogether. "Your place is not by his side. It is at mine."

He kisses her then, his mouth almost vicious against hers as he swallows any response she may have had to his declaration. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cami places her thoughts of leaving town and finding happiness with Will into a neat box. As she returns Klaus' kiss with every emotion she's held back from him, she knows that box will never see the light of day again.