All Of Me

A Klenevieve Oneshot.

Enjoy!

Murderous anger boiled inside the Original hybrid as blood coated paws thundered against the earth, sending divots of mud crashing into the rough bark of the ancient trees that surrounded him. His flaxen colored fur shone like gold in the moonlight; but it was hardly the image of fantasy and beauty. The silver glow that peeked through the lush branches of the forest held a bright light to the patches of crimson blood that stained his coat.

He ran as though he could outrun the world. As if a powerful trek through the bayou could allow him to forget what he was running from. Nothing would wipe his memory clean of the betrayal that still stung in his veins like a poison tinged blade. Nothing.

Though Klaus Mikaelson was no stranger to betrayal, deep down within himself he knew this betrayal hurt worse than any other he'd felt before. So much worse than even Finn's betrayal with his mother. More than Elijah and Rebekah believing he had ill intentions towards his own child when he did everything he could to prove to them that he was more than the beast they thought him to be. It somehow even hurt more than his own father's hatred towards him.

Why? Because it came from two people (at the time) whom he believed to be his only true allies in a world full of enemies.

His baby sister whom he'd protected from every worm who managed to grin his way into her bed. The sister who he'd run to the ends of the earth with. The one sibling who claimed to have always stood by his side. And the boy he saved from slavery. The boy whom he renamed, gave a new home, a new life, and later eternal life. The first friend he'd had since his days as a human.

Rebekah and Marcel.

It was them who brought Mikael down upon him in the 1920s. It was them who could have been the death of him. They who ruined the life he'd made for himself in Chicago. Them who had pledged their allegiance to him, looked him in the eye as a friend and a sibling all the while they held their treacheries behind traitorous tongues.

A sharp feral growl slipped from his withdrawn lips. His blood coated teeth glowed ominously in the moonlight. Even as a wolf, the betrayal was stamped across his face like a pain etched tattoo.

The remnants of his revenge left no question as to his recent activity. The blood that coated his wolf form was far from his own. And left behind in a secluded alley of New Orleans lie the managed forms he obtained the blood from.

Who? Well, he lost count. He began with those he blamed the most. Marcel. Rebekah. Elijah, for his choice to stab with him with that god forsaken knife again. Then it became a string of vampires who came to defend Marcel. Then some humans who got in his way. For all he knew half the witches in the quarter were mixed in with the massacre. What a welcome bonus.

Of course his siblings would recover. It would take days of healing but they'd live. Unless his rage were to lead him to acquiring a white oak stake. Marcel had less than twelve hours before the venom would claim his life. Everyone else...he would label them as the newest members of the afterlife and be done with it.

The revenge he'd set out for was complete, but it left him feeling anything but at peace. In fact his anger had only grown. Which was how he wound up in his wolf form running through the woods. Anger burned so brightly in him that the shift was the only thing he could comprehend doing.

Now it seemed a bigger waste of time than storming the streets of New Orleans with bloodshed on his mind.

So finally after miles of ceaseless running, the fair furred wolf finally slowed to a walk as he approached the tree where he'd left his clothes. It was right on the edge of town. Not far at all from the asylum where he and Rebekah had been held only hours before.

With the sounds of his victims screams still echoing in his ears, and his blood still boiling in his veins Klaus hardly felt the shift. The brisk breeze that flew through the trees whipped against his bare skin but he felt nothing but heat. Fire. Anger. It burned inside him as wildly and out of control as a blazing wildfire.

He slid his jeans, henley tee, jacket, and boots on in a state of auto pilot. His blue eyes saw nothing. His mind was too clouded with pain to take in his own actions.

Once he was dressed the hybrid stalked off through the trees. They were becoming more sparse as he walked, signaling his return to the city. The moonlight crept between the branches and shone down on him as he wove through the last of the forest. He stood still and silent at the foot of the road.

Across the street stood the abandoned asylum

Klaus had half a mind to go and burn the bloody place to the ground. With any luck Sabine (Celeste, whatever the hell that schizophrenic witch decided to name herself this century) and Basitanna would still be inside and he could watch with glee as their flesh melted from their bones into ash.

Of course there was one name he left off that list. One name he didn't throw down to be burned alive or drained of blood in alley. A person he should have killed when he had the chance earlier. She handed him the blade. She freed him. One flick of the wrist and he could watched her choke on her own blood until death took her for the second time.

But he didn't. He turned and left and chased after his true target.

"If you're thinking of storming the place you'll be disappointed. It's empty."

Speak of the devil.

Klaus turned his head a fraction to the left at the sound of her voice. Surprised at her bravery. Angered by her audacity. She walked slowly towards the road on her side of the street, those enchanting blue eyes never leaving his. Her heels clicked on the cement sidewalk. Finally once she reached the edge of the curb she stopped and faced him, her posture relaxed as her long sweater blew around her in the breeze.

Did she really think it wise to test her luck again? The young (looking anyway) witch watched him hunt his sister like a dog, heard his murderous screams. Why was she foolish enough to cross his path again?

"The outside isn't." Klaus pointed out darkly, his lips pulling up at the corners just enough to show his elongated canines. Who knew? Perhaps it was the blood of the fiery haired witch that would calm his temper?

Genevieve returned his threat with a gentle smile that hardly matched her words, "Let's not pretend you want me dead. If you did I'd be acquainting myself with hell by now."

Good point. If he had truly wanted her dead before he would have slit her throat, ripped out her heart, drained her dry, or done all three earlier in the day. Though it irked him that Genevieve had the nerve to point it out. She seemed to have an annoying habit of not being the slightest bit intimidated by him.

That really irked him.

"Perhaps I was saving the best for last?" Klaus suggested casually as moved forward a step. One foot touched the pavement of the road, the other hesitated in the grass. "Kind of like...desert." Klaus concluded with a devious gleam dancing in his eyes.

A girlish sounding giggle flowed smoothly from Genevieve's lips as she mirrored Klaus's motion of stepping forward. Except she stepped off the curb and into the road. "You always did enjoy scaring people. I guess some things never change?"

Klaus could see the curiosity in her eyes. The way she spoke to him now, and earlier, it was plain to see that for whatever reason Genevieve had some kind of interest in him. Despite being quite bitter towards Rebekah for ending her life, none of that seemed to bleed on to Klaus. It was kind of odd being the sibling that wasn't hated for once.

But what was even more odd was that there was a knowing glint in Genevieve's eyes when she looked at him. As if they had been close. But until she showed him her memories of her time in New Orleans back in the early 1900s, Klaus had never known she existed.

"You're world was a little too exciting back then to notice a gangly witch hanging on your sister's every word." Genevieve excused him before he could speak, once again seeming to guess at his thoughts.

"Perhaps if it hadn't I might've prevented you from alerting my father to my whereabouts." Klaus returned, his expression darkening. The anger boiled inside him again...though he only then realized that it had been held at bay since he saw the witch walking towards him.

Genevieve took a few more slow steps across the road. She stood fully in the right lane now. Considering the lack of traffic she was more than safe. "And maybe I wouldn't have been a forced victim of influenza and one of many casualties in the Mikaelson family saga."

The interesting thing to Klaus was that Genevieve no longer spoke with bitterness when she recalled Rebekah's treachery. When she had spoken of the events that led up to her death earlier in the day she had been nearly as angry as him. But now it was as if it was nothing more than a bland memory.

Perhaps she'd whacked that pretty head on the pavement?

Cocking his head to the side, Klaus stepped up on to the road and took a few more steps forward. Mere feet separated them now. Up closer he noted the way her blue eyes took on a cerulean quality in the moonlight. "You don't seem angry about that." It wasn't a question.

Genevieve shrugged, "I got my revenge. I doubt I'll be weaving Rebekah a friendship bracelet any time soon, but I see no reason to walk around pouting." The way she said made Klaus think she was accusing him of doing just that.

But he didn't pay much attention to that detail for the moment. He was too dumbfounded by her statement. That was it? Rebekah ruined her life and murdered her in one of the cruelest ways possible and after a few hours of torture, Genevieve simply lets it go?

How was that even possible? Klaus had been murdering people for hours and he wasn't even an ounce less angry than he had been earlier. In fact, it had gotten worse.

"That's it?" Klaus clarified suspiciously.

"That's it." Genevieve confirmed with a bemusedly raised eyebrow.

Klaus shifted his weight to his other foot, confusion written plainly across his features, "What if Rebekah comes after you?" They both had to admit it was a likely possibility. Would her resolve be so strong if Rebekah made another move against her?

Another shrug and two more steps later Genevieve said simply, "Then the dance starts all over again until one of us is dead, I guess."

Seemingly tired of talking about Rebekah, Genevieve switched gears. Now close enough to Klaus to make contact she reached out and ran her hand softly down his arm, "I'm sorry, you know."

More confusion, "For what?" Klaus questioned, his eyes flashing to her hand that remained on his arm.

"That you had to play such a...pivotal role in my revenge. And if it helps I did genuinely believe you deserved to know the truth." She explained honestly.

The furious beast within him growled at the mention of his 'role'. The betrayal was still too fresh. But the more rational side of him was surprised to hear any kind of apology at all. It never occurred to him earlier in the day that Genevieve wasn't completely proud of her actions.

Though normally apologies meant little to him...Klaus found himself actually listening to this one. Mainly because she was right. He did deserve to know the truth. And had he relied upon Marcel or Rebekah for that it never would've happened.

"Are you hoping that by softening me up you ensure I won't have your head on a platter?" Klaus asked after a few moments. Another smirk tugged his lips up at the corners.

Genevieve didn't even dignify that with a response. She gave him a frank look that clearly communicated that she believed they had covered that topic enough. As if to prove her point, she moved another step closer as she dropped her hand from his arm. She looked up at him with a challenging gaze.

"You seem to have some personal space issues, love." Klaus murmured, not moving an inch as he looked down at the brave little witch before him. He had to give it to her, she had spirit. There was something in her expressions that could have occupied his gaze for hours. And thus far she had yet to say one thing to him that he found predictable.

In short, Klaus was fascinated with her.

She reminded him of a demure 'little woman' with the tone of her voice. She sounded like she would submit with the tiniest of slights. But with her words she proved to be a worthy adversary. She fought like a man, and she offered no apologies for that. She only offered them for involving him when he wasn't the target. It didn't take a genius to deduce that Rebekah wouldn't be receiving one.

There was an almost unbalanced edge to her persona, but that only seemed to make him like her more. At the very least, she was quite accomplished at keeping his anger at bay. It faded to the back of his mind as if it was a distant memory.

"You don't seem to mind." Genevieve argued with a saucy grin. Her hands made their way under his coat to the belt loops of his jeans. She took hold of the fabric loops with her fingers and pulled him closer to her until only inches separated their faces. Her body was close enough that their clothes brushed against each other.

No he really didn't. Returning her smirk Klaus brought one of his hands up and captured a lock of her scarlet colored hair and twisted it loosely around his finger. After a moment he let it drop and moved the same finger to lightly trace Genevieve's jaw line, "You're playing a dangerous game, ma chérie."

Cheating death didn't exactly make Genevieve...durable. Klaus was hardly what anyone would call gentle. Or forgiving. Loving. Really anything positive. It would be a shame to wind up killing her after they went to so much trouble to disprove that he wouldn't.

Klaus saw Genevieve's smirk grow an inch before her face vanished from view as she leaned in closer. She stood up on her toes and nuzzled her head into his neck. He felt her warm breath against his skin as her lips trailed hungrily upwards until she reached his ear. He felt her teeth graze his earlobe, sending a pleasurable thrill across his skin. Finally, her soft murmur in his ear, "I love dangerous games."

Well, he needed no more invitation than that.

Seizing Genevieve by her hips he sped them across the road straight into the brick wall that fenced in the asylum. He stopped just shy of it to avoid cracking the her head open. Once he stopped he backed her into the wall, his eyes locked intensely on hers as he placed his hands on either side of her head.

"I underestimated you," Klaus freely admitted as he leaned in, his lips hovering only an inch above hers. He could practically feel how badly she wanted this. And better yet, he could smell how badly she wanted this. It was a reaction he seldom got from women who knew exactly what a beast he could be.

And though usually he would've killed such a distraction in the face of his anger...he didn't want to. He would be a bold faced liar if he said that he didn't feel something from the moment he laid eyes on Genevieve, and there was just no fucking point in fighting it.

In front of him Genevieve bit down lightly on her lower lip, openly teasing him as her hands slid to his sides, urging him closer with her touch, "Then start making up for it?" she suggested with a grin.

"With pleasure." Klaus growled in response.

His lips crashed against hers in a hungry passion. His hands locked on to her cheek and hip as he pulled her closer. He could feel her hands moving back, sliding under his shirt. Her fingernails drug lightly across his skin, bringing a animalistic moan his his lips.

He captured her lips with his own, his tongue eagerly exploring her mouth. Their tongues twined together, almost battling for control. The image of the submissive little woman he'd thought of earlier vanished entirely from his thoughts.

He drug his hand away from her hip and hitched it around the bottom of her thigh. Quick to understand what he wanted, Genevieve gracefully lept up and wrapped her legs around him.

Klaus gripped her thighs as their lips broke apart. Without a breath he moved to her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. Genevieve tilted her head back, her thick mane of hair tumbling behind her and giving Klaus full access to the flawless skin of her throat.

He planted a trail of kisses up her neck, his teeth lightly grazing her skin. He could feel her shiver in response, her quickened breaths. Their hearts thundered in harmony, both of them living in a world of ecstasy.

"Where is your place?" Klaus breathed against her skin, pausing briefly from his assault on her neck. His wasn't much of an option. Apparently someone burned it down. Go figure.

A breathless laugh escaped Genevieve's lips as she brought her head back up. She brought her hands to Klaus's cheeks and grinned at him with a look wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. "Don't tell me Klaus Mikaelson is too shy to do this in public?" she teased.

Now it was his turn to laugh. With an animalistic smirk, Klaus placed another kiss against Genevieve's throat before he responded, "Nothing like that, love. I was merely trying to be considerate. It's going to be a long night. I figured you might need a softer surface to rest on."

That, and this moment was simply too amazing, too ecstatic, too everything he hadn't realized he even wanted for it to end in a few seconds up against a brick wall.

Despite Klaus's suggestive words, Genevieve clearly saw the genuineness behind them. Saw the man, not the monster, who craved more of her than the bare minimum. Her blue eyes softened for just a moment and she inclined her head so she could press her lips against his once more.

"In that case," she mumbled against his lips, her own turning up in a delighted smile, "it's about six blocks that way." She pointed off to the right, her eyes never leaving Klaus's.

Klaus's responding grin was one the hybrid hadn't felt grace his lips in a very, very, very long time. Pushing off on his heels the hybrid tore off down the deserted streets with the moonlight guiding his way and a woman he never saw coming, and never had a chance of resisting in his arms.

Alright My Lovelies, The End Has Come :]

This was just my version of what could have happened after Klaus recovered from the second assault with Papa Tunde's blade. I have to tell you, I've never fallen for a ship as quickly as I fell for Klenevieve. Hence the clearly obsessive oneshot ;]

I hope you guys enjoyed this. I had a lot of fun writing it. I would be ever so grateful if you left me some feedback about what you thought? You guys rock!

Thanks for reading!

Emily