"Money is the reason

We exist

Everybody knows it, it's a fact

Kiss, kiss." - Lana Del Rey

The Order: a powerful collective of humans who have violently overthrown witches as the keepers of Balance

Companions: a term for witches who engage in sexual and other kinds of transactions with vampires in order to pay tribute to the Order.

"Spend the night with me, love."

"Klaus, what part of "no Originals" don't you understand?" Bonnie rolled her eyes but couldn't prevent the smile that tugged at her lips.

He pulled her closer as they moved around the dance floor.

"The part where you deny yourself the pleasure of my company."

"I'll live," she said drily. It was a dance they'd done many times before. She would attend some event on a new client's arm and inevitably Klaus would be there, surrounded by a bevy of admirers or minions or both, ready to tease her about how she should stop wasting her talents on common vampires and travel the world with him instead.

"What's the matter, darling," he dipped her so their upper bodies were almost perpendicular to the floor, like he was lying atop her, "afraid you'll like it?"

"You already like it too much," she responded, holding his shoulder for support and righting herself. She flashed him her trademark crooked smile, arching her neck coquettishly, "Where would I be if I ran off with every vampire that wanted to make me their special pet?"

"I'm a hybrid, sweetheart." Klaus leaned in to her neck, ghosting warm lips across her pulse, "And you would be anywhere you desired."

She laughed softly against his ear, "The last vampire who took me home paid me in diamonds. I'm already where I want to be."

Bonnie spun away from him, holding him at arm's length so he could admire the way she was poured into the red-silk Valentino dress. This was a dance she'd perfected, and he was a consummate partner. Eyes drinking her in from head to toe, Klaus gave a slow half-smile, "You're breaking my heart, love."

She twirled back into his arms, brushing her silk-covered body against him before sliding a hand down his crisp white shirt, lingering on his hard abdomen and pausing, teasingly, just above the waistband of his trousers. His eyes grew hooded as he watched her. Bonnie grinned knowingly, "And such a hard heart too."

He pretended to look hurt while sliding his hand down to rest just above her tailbone. "You must think I'm the worst type of cad."

She enjoyed the feel of his hands on her, no lie there. This dance they engaged in - playful, exciting, sensual - was more fun that she'd ever admit. But that's why it had to stay on the dancefloor. Out here under chandelier lights they could weave into each other like equals, but reality hovered in the wings. He was the Original Hybrid, a transaction with him would be nothing like the ones with lesser vampires that helped keep the Order off her back. Those vampires she could easily subdue or outsmart. Klaus could never be so effortlessly disengaged from.

Bonnie swatted his hand away, but her expression was light, "The very worst."

She spied her client in the corner of her eye, re-entering the room and looking for her. Allowing herself one more spin with Klaus, she pulled away, letting him kiss her fingers.

"If you change your mind -,"

"I won't," she kissed him lightly on the cheek, "but save me another dance sometime."

And she knew he would. There wasn't a lot of stability in being a Companion. She was never in one place for long, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Elena and Caroline. After Grams was killed in the Reaping and witches everywhere went underground rather than pay tribute to the Order, well, there weren't many options for a fresh-faced seventeen year old witch with no family and no protection. Companionship was the closest thing she had to safety. And even that was tenuous: just last year a young Companion witch was found dead in a river, her body mutilated and drained of blood.

She never knew what tomorrow might bring, and after four years she'd learned to live moment to moment, always prepared, never giving anything away. Klaus lived in a different world, a world of power and privilege where safety never even entered his mind, because not even the Order was powerful enough to challenge the Original Hybrid. And in a way, she counted on his untouchability, because it meant he would always be there, to save that dance for her, to show up at whatever supernatural social event she attended next, make fun of whoever her client was next.

Because in his own way, Klaus was the only constant in her life.

"The hybrid's been sniffing around for two years now," Lucy Bennett remarked. They were sipping champagne and talking shop: a routine they'd established every six months to keep tabs on each other. "I almost feel bad for the bastard."

Bonnie laughed, "Don't. I'm sure he's not lacking company."

"You'd be surprised. I talked to my girl Sophie-Ann and she says he's mostly alone except for his vampires."

"That's...almost sad."

"So you guys never...?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bathroom-stall fuck?"

"Nope, none."

"And you don't want to?" Lucy raised an eyebrow.

Bonnie shrugged, "I like the dance, you know? It's more satisfying at this point."

Her cousin smirked, "You know what Grams used to say, if you dance with the devil -,"

"-he's already won."

They both laughed.

"Just watch yourself, shortcake," Lucy reminded, using the nickname she'd given Bonnie when they were teens. "I like having you around."

"I like being around." She smiled at her cousin, "Don't worry. I can handle Klaus."

"You're cross with me."

"Hmm?" Bonnie kept her eyes at his shoulder, following the steps without even thinking. They were in a ballroom in Vienna, dancing to orchestral music while the painted walls glowed in chandelier light. It was like the dream of another time and they were all willing subjects of the illusion.

"You've been avoiding me all evening, and you've stepped on my foot thrice already. I know Viennese waltzes are the devil but I'm starting to wonder."

"Grams always warned me about dancing with the devil." she replied coolly, still avoiding his eyes and scanning the room for her current client, Stefan Salvatore.

His hand moved ever so slightly against the small of her back and she turned, dipped and turned back into him. It was like their bodies remembered each other. "If I'm the Devil," he flashed a dimpled grin, "does that make you my Lilith?"

"In your dreams, Klaus."

"Always, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes.

"The ice begins to thaw," he observed, still grinning, "Tell me, what dastardly thing have I supposedly done this time? Hijacked a school bus? Pillaged a nunnery?"

"Let's just keep dancing Kl-," a whoosh of air snatched her words and she found herself on the balcony, his arms tight around her and his eyes burning into her face.

"I have never lied to you. What has you angry with me?" he grasped her chin, forcing their gazes together, "I can feel it under your skin, and consequently on my toes," he smirked, but his eyes remained solemn, "tell the truth, love."

Bonnie slipped free of his arms. She could still hear the music wafting through the ballroom doors, a delicate golden illusion of symmetry that Klaus had rudely snatched her from. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to me," he said shortly. His eyes were glittering points of intensity that she couldn't look into, or else she'd lose what balance she had.

She made an exasperated sound, "I like what we have, Klaus. You stay out of my life, I stay out of yours. Let it go."

"In that case," he pushed away from the railing to stand in front of her, "I suppose you don't care that a whole pack of werewolves died by my hand last month."

She was silent, horror and sadness welling in her throat. So the rumors were true.

"I didn't want to believe it."

"Did you think a few dances and pleasantries put me off my ambitions?" there was a sneer in his voice that she knew came from hurt, but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

"I just thought-,"

"That if you waited long enough I'd change my ways?"

"I thought you were better than your father," she said quietly.

There was a flash of something in his eyes she'd never seen before, something raw and deadly.

"And I thought you were better than spreading your legs for a Salvatore-,"

Her hand cracked like a whip on the side of his face. She could feel herself trembling, anger and hurt throbbing in her chest until she could barely breathe. Most of all she was angry at herself, for letting him get to her, for beginning to trust him.

Klaus was silent, his expression unreadable. Somehow that made it worse, like he couldn't even bother to defend himself.

Bonnie turned on her heel and strode through the ballroom, keeping her furious tears in check until she was away from the crowd. When she was alone in the empty parlor and wiping her eyes, she realized Klaus could've easily prevented the slap if he'd wanted to.

Her fingers burned for hours after.

She didn't see him for six months.

Things were stirring in the supernatural world. There were rumors about a witch uprising and about the Order discovering an ancient vampire weapon. Bonnie kept her ear to the ground and tabs on Lucy, who was becoming involved with the underground witch coalitions. The coalitions had one goal in mind: overthrow the Order and restore witches to their rightful place as keepers of the balance.

As a Companion Bonnie was privy to delicate and dangerous information, but she also knew one wrong move would cost her everything.

After a spate of engagements in North America she found herself in Europe again. It was springtime in the Tuscan countryside, and the party was a four-day affair at the mansion of some obscenely wealthy vampire. She'd taken the job as a favor to Davina - one of the younger Companions who was nervous about an overseas assignment - but the lush hills and meadowy landscape surrounding the palatial mansion weren't exactly a hardship.

Her client sent a message that he was being delayed, so Bonnie found herself bored and restless during the daytime. Wandering the mansion's exquisite portrait gallery, she thought about how Klaus would've made her laugh with inappropriate anecdotes about the artists and admired their work in the same breath.

For the first time since she'd started Companionship, she felt lonely.

It was a beautiful dewy morning on the third day when they saw each other again. She was walking the grounds in her favorite green-and-yellow Massimo Dutti dress, shaking out her hair in the sweet breeze, and suddenly there he was, leaning against a tree, head tilted to the side like he was memorizing her.

Bonnie felt her heartbeat speed up with the realization that she had missed him. But the remembrance of their last exchange was still bitter.

She turned coldly and walked away from him back to the mansion. He made no move to follow.

Over the years she'd developed an instinct, honed by her magic, that proved invaluable as a Companion. She could detect lies, recognize motivations and sense danger. That instinct had saved her more times than she could count, and right now, it was going haywire.

Her client, Alaric, claimed to be a werewolf hunter and a friend to their host. But Bonnie's skin crawled when he was near her. There was a strange, veiled malevolence coming off him that was unsettling. At first she'd relished the prospect of spending four days at the Tuscan manor, but now she couldn't wait to leave, go back to her small New Orleans apartment and have a drink with Lucy.

"May I have the next dance?"

Klaus stood in front of them in a gleaming tuxedo, hair slicked back, a smile on his face that didn't disguise the cold look he gave Alaric.

The latter glanced down at her, "You know him?"

Klaus looked her full in the face, giving her the out she so desperately desired.

I thought you were better than spreading your legs for a Salvatore

The memory lanced her again, and she raised her chin, "No, I guess I don't know him."

If Klaus caught the meaning of her words he didn't show it, and was off with a cool nod of his head that smarted even more than if he'd stayed to argue.

Bonnie schooled her face. "I'm a little tired," she murmured to Alaric, caressing his forearm, "do you mind if we have an early night?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he ran an appreciative hand down the side of her body.

She led him upstairs to her bedroom and excused herself to powder her nose. Once inside the gleaming, mother-of-pearl bathroom she quickly opened her purse and removed her compact, lipstick and blush. Each contained hidden caches of herbs that, when combined, produced a powerful sleeping draught that worked on most vampires and all humans alike. This was a trick used by many older Companions that she'd only recently adopted: collect your payment, knock them out, fill their heads with hallucinations they mistook for memories, then leave before they woke up. It was dangerous, as the Order forbade the use of magic without its permission, but sometimes necessary.

Occasionally, she'd dispense with the herbs and allow her clients to take her to bed. Stefan Salvatore with his gentle hands and eager mouth was one such instance. Hunter Matthew Donovan was another pleasing exception.

But there was no way she could keep paying her tributes to the Order without engaging wealthy vampire clients, and among vampires as among humans the conscientious and the kind had fewer resources. Which was why she couldn't get past the unease she felt at Alaric, a simple human and hunter, being invited to this place.

At least he would be out cold soon.

"How about some wine?" she asked when she emerged, feeling Alaric's eyes on her as she walked over to the table.

That's when everything went wrong.

One moment she was reaching for a bottle of wine, the next it was snatched from her hands and smashed against the wall. Bonnie saw the the stain drip blood-red like a sudden wound.

"Let's see what we have here, hmm?" Alaric grabbed and squeezed her wrists, forcing her fingers open to reveal the small vial concealed therein.

He looked at it before his eyes crawled over her face.

"I can explai-,"

"The Order won't be happy with you, little witch."

"Please, I-,"

"Looks like it's off to the Catacombs with you," he pulled her closer, "but first, I think I can find a better use for that mouth."

She kicked him in the shin and twisted out of his grasp, but he recovered quickly, grabbing her by her hair and throwing her against the wall. Bonnie groaned from the impact on her shoulder and tried to stand up. Alaric was on top of her, pinning her down, ripping the top of her tangerine-silk dress. Bonnie had never used magic on a human before, and using it against a human who worked for the Order would surely get her killed, but at that moment she didn't care. At that moment, all she wanted was to make him pay.

Bonnie focused all her attention on bursting his blood vessels, but Alaric just grinned. "That tickles, do it again."

Holding her in place, he pulled down his shirt collar so she could see the black sickle tattooed on his shoulder. She went numb all over.

"You're a Reaper."

"One of the best," he whispered in her ear, "and this is way more fun than what I did to your grandmother."

Bonnie waited till he lifted his head, then spat in his face.

He laughed again, then backhanded her so hard it made her dizzy. She tasted blood.

Alaric wiped his cheek and gave a humorless smile, eyes narrowing, "Feisty. But you can't hurt me, witch."

"Oh but I can."

Alaric was pulled off her. Bonnie blinked, head pounding. Klaus had Alaric by the throat, lifting him so the Reaper's feet kicked the air. The former tightened his grip, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of him.

"Klaus, stop! He's with the Order."

Muttering a curse, he dropped Alaric unceremoniously and watched in cold disgust as the Reaper tried to crawl away, coughing and spluttering.

She'd managed to get to her feet and Klaus was by her side, half carrying her into a chair.

"I'm okay," she whispered, trying to cover herself with the torn panel of her dress. Klaus cupped her cheek and turned her face gently to his. As soon as he saw the blood trickling from her split-lip his expression changed.

Before she could speak, he sped over to Alaric and pummeled him into the wall. It was over in one blow, and she saw blood and brains staining the walls like a broken bottle of wine.

When Klaus turned to her she almost didn't recognize him. Gone was the dangerously flirtatious dance partner, and in his place was the Original Hybrid, the monster she'd heard stories about, the devil himself.

And he'd just killed a Reaper for assaulting her.

Her head spun as she rose to her feet. Klaus swore again and moved to stand in front of her. She raised her eyes to his, saw the conflicting swirl of emotions there that were surely surging in her own. One part of her wanted to scream and curse him, the other part of her wanted to melt into his arms and cry until she was empty.

He reached for her but she shook him off with a fierceness that surprised them both.

Klaus spoke softly but with an edge in his voice, "I'll paint all of Europe with their entrails before I let them near you."

"And what then, Klaus?" she shot back, desperate, "Will you build me a submarine so we can live out our days away from the Order? This is exactly why I can't do this with you! You had to interfere and-,"

"Interfere?" his voice rose, but then he caught himself, "I don't recall you objecting to my interference when I pulled that bastard off you."

"And if you hadn't I would've been fine!," she stood toe-to-toe with him, arching her neck to make eye-contact, "I'm not a debutante Klaus, I've been a Companion for four long years before you decided to ride in on your white horse. I would've figured something out, I always do."

"He would've dragged you down to the Catacombs after he'd had his fun -,"

"And it still wouldn't be any of your damn business! I'm not yours, or did you think a few dances changed that?" she was being cruel, lashing out from this corner they'd backed themselves into, "Now, thanks to you, I have to go underground, put Lucy at risk, leave my whole life behind!"

"It doesn't have to be that way," Klaus growled softly, putting a tentative hand on her waist, almost like they were on the dancefloor again, "let me show you."

For a moment she almost gave in, almost swayed into his chest and laid her cheek against the promise of his protection. But she knew better, life had taught her better.

Bonnie bit her lip hard, trying to stop the tears already escaping "Promise me one thing? Look after Lucy, they'll come after her when they can't find me."

"Bonnie-,"

"Promise me," she tugged on his shirt.

He swore under his breath, then covered her hand with his, "I'll look out for your cousin. And I'll find you if I have to destroy the Order myself."

Touching his smooth-shaven cheek, she felt her mouth soften. She would probably never see him again.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, hybrid."

A/N: Happy Klonnie Halloween y'all! I'll try and post Part Two in a timely manner xoxoxoxox