Jekyll Island, Georgia. 1920
"But Mr. Mikaelson, it's all that I have. That house is the only thing I have left."
Klaus leaned across the rolltop desk, starting deeply into the middle-aged balding man's eyes. His glasses were drooping down his nose and his hands were shaking violently.
"It was the only thing," Klaus corrected him, "Now, you will sign that deed over to me..."
He slid a document across the table and tossed a pen down on top of it. The man could do nothing but sign. Compulsion was such a useful tool, Klaus marveled.
"It's Niklaus," he corrected the man who shuffled the papers around with nervous fingers "With an N...Yes, that's right."
When the documents were signed, he snatched them from the man's grasp and tucked them into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket.
"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Wells," he smirked, before reaching down and snapping the man's neck.
Just outside the door of the little seaside cottage they had been staying in for the past week, Klaus found Rebekah sitting on the beach. She was one of few women he knew brave enough to wear trousers. She had the legs of the khaki pants rolled up to her knees and Klaus was pretty sure she had procured one of his white dress shirts. Her hair hung by the side of her face in a braid. She sensed him before she ever saw him.
"Isn't it beautiful Nik?" she gazed at the sunset in front of them in amazement.
The horizon was filled with rich oranges and pinks, dotted with a large white clouds which allowed the last few rays of the sun to penetrate them. If he had any painting supplies, he would no doubt begin the diligent task of painting the sunset before it faded from view. He hadn't touched a brush since they fled New Orleans. Most of his artwork, all of his supplies, burned up in the fire. His most prized possessions, portraits of the family, various artifacts, along with his two enshrined brothers were still in an underground bunker that he had secured many years before. Once they were settled in Chicago, he would send for them.
"It's very nice Rebekah," he sighed, sitting down beside her on the sand.
"Don't you wish life could be like this?" she glanced over at him "So beautiful and peaceful..."
"Not for us," he shook his head, wanting to reaffirm that to her "We were not bred for peace."
"What do you want?" she scowled, when she gauged his mood.
"I just came to tell you I have secured us a home. A grand estate."
He was radiating with pride.
"Here?" she asked, delighted at the thought of spending her days running along these beaches, breathing in the salt air and swimming in the waves.
"No, in Chicago. I told you Rebekah, Chicago is the goal. It is where Elijah will find us. It will be our new home. Our new empire."
"Chicago," she let out a disappointed sigh, standing to her feet and dusting the sand off her trousers.
She walked out toward the ocean, her feet stepping on the wet sand, then into the water. She went out a little deeper, til the water was just hovering below the cuffs of her pants.
"Rebekah!" Klaus scolded her.
"Oh for once in your life Niklaus!" she turned and shouted just as a wave reached her, crashing against her back and drenching her from the shoulders down.
She stood for a second, frozen as the water dripped around her and then she let out a laugh. A carefree, laugh that radiated throughout her whole body that made even Klaus smile.
"You were saying sister?" he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Come on!" she called to him "Get in the water with me!"
"Absolutely not!" he protested "You get out of there."
She walked closer to shore and he walked toward her, removing his dinner jacket with the intentions of putting it around her shoulders to ward off any prying eyes. When she reached him however, she kicked a large splash of water at him, dousing him across the chest and pants.
Another laugh escaped her lips.
Klaus threw down the jacket and with vampire speed rolled up the legs of his trousers and was in the water within seconds chasing her. Once he caught her, far too easily he might add, she laughed even harder. They stood there, staring at out at sea as the waves moved past them and the sun finally went from view. It was only then that Klaus realized he had yet another smile on his lips, which he quickly hid with a squared jaw and stepped away from her. He started moving toward the shore.
"Enough games Rebekah! We have packing to do!"
She stood there for a few minutes, watching her troubled brother collect his jacket and go back inside the cottage. He was desperately hurting, of that she was sure. She was hurting too. She longed for Elijah to be with them right now. He would enjoy this beach. He might even be able to put Klaus at ease. He would enjoy the sun and the sand...
"Rebekah!" Klaus' voice bellowed from the cottage and she finally took her leave of the great Atlantic.
