I am SO sorry, dearies! I never expected this update to take so long; my only excuse it that sometimes, the day job takes even more hours off writing than usual. On the upside, I'm almost finished with the final chapter as well (although I need to cut that one down a bit, it has 25.000 words as it stands, and I still need to change a few things), so I hope that one won't take more than a few days.

Once more, I am speechless at all the lovely responses. As this was really little more than a short story to take my convoluted mind off my other project, I never expected so many reviews, and I'm beyond grateful to you guys. So I'm sending big virtual hugs to:

Angelikah, MsCindz, Venus88, Kjsama, SweetyK, Hazel21, PinkTrinityRose12, MoreColourfulMoniker, CKhybrid, MissTranquility, eveli, flipped, Jewelz1642, AWeepingWillowTree, goldenhummingbird, Unicorn, justine, Marina, rebbecca1, ashlytorres24, RubyRav3n, Ellavm18, xAllTheDevilsAreHerex, SubmissivesRUs, Sarisol, FatimaH1995, thestorieswelove, RosesAreFlowers13, Abby, lilycody, Jenn and the guest reviewers - and of course everyone who followed, favd and read!

Today's special shoutout goes to Dillan - happy belated birthday, and I'm really sorry I didn't manage to upload in time for your special day! :)

I hope you'll all forgive me for the long wait. Please enjoy, and have the loveliest of Sundays! :)

Much love,

Sybille

"We are here." In front of a massive double door of ancient wood in the heart of the lively Fifth Arrondissement, Klaus halted and pressed a gaudy, golden doorbell button. A sideways glance saw Caroline's eyes wandering up the facade, taking in the three-story town house whose front occupied almost half a block. Painted in pale yellow, the weathered building seemed to ooze history with its rows of large, ornate windows and the half dozen gargoyles staring down at the passersby with their timeless, unseeing eyes. Thrown on the present market, Klaus estimated the house's value to hover around thirty-five million U.S. dollars. Not only its prime location at spitting distance from the Île de la Cité and the Cathedral of Notre Dame made the property every real estate broker's wet dream; it also included two major gardens and a sizable outdoor swimming pool, both priceless amenities in a city where a simple one-room apartment was unaffordable on anything less than a VP's salary. This particular house, though, would never be sold. It had been in the same hands for the past three centuries, namely the hands of...

"Amaury," Klaus beamed when one of the doors creaked open, revealing the property's owner, "I do hope we are not intruding."

The Frenchman's eyes revealed a split second of genuine bafflement, replaced diligently by his trademark ear-to-ear smile. "As if your visit could ever not be opportune, Klaus. I had high hopes to see you... and your little rogue."

"Caroline, this is Amaury de Lascasse. He heads up the supernatural community in Paris. Amaury, this is Caroline Forbes."

"Do come in, make yourselves at home," Amaury nodded, stepping aside, his gaze assessing Caroline who returned it with equal curiosity. Klaus couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing while he gauged her reaction. Of all the human and supernatural creatures he had encountered over the centuries, Amaury stood out like a Caravaggio among children's drawings. Tall and powerfully built, he possessed a face so striking it had prompted more than one little boy or girl in the streets to ask whether he was an angel sent from God. His cherubic features were framed by wavy, dark golden curls falling to his shoulders, and his singular appearance was complemented by a dazzling if somewhat superficial charm and a voice reminiscent of empyrean music. Klaus recalled joking with Elijah shortly after their first encounter with Amaury at Louis XIV's court around 1700, quipping how they had finally encountered the one man capable of leading them both to forsake women. Whilst their interest in the young French nobleman had not been of a sexual nature, both Mikaelson brothers had found themselves intrigued, each in his own way. Klaus' fascination had stemmed from the artist's appreciation of such singular beauty - and the vampire's recognition of the ruthless nature behind the stunning face. It made for a combination that had never failed to amuse him.

The way Caroline seemed as affected as any woman by Amaury's Prince Charming veneer did not amuse him in the least.

Put a lid on your jealousy, Niklaus. It clouds your judgement, and there is no time for that now.

Pointing inside, the Frenchman suggested, "Can I persuade you to stay for dinner?"

Klaus inclined his head. "Merci, mon ami, but I do not think so. Although I have to confess I never quite managed to shed the memories of your chef - pray what was his name? The man you employed around the turn of the century?"

"Ah," Amaury nodded with genuine enthusiasm, "Thibaut. One of a kind indeed. His canard à la presse was beyond compare, was it not?"

"As was his boeuf bourguignon, not to mention that unbelievable foie gras he made. It surprises me that you never considered turning him."

Without a word, the other man flashed into what Klaus remembered was his private salon, returning in under a second, holding out a business card. "What do you think I am, a fool? Of course I turned him. This is the address of his business; he changes locations every few years for obvious reasons, but his cuisine is better than ever. It is increasingly hard, though, for a chef like him to maintain a low profile in the digital age."

"Bretagne," Klaus said after a glancing at the card and pocketing it, "I have not set foot there in a while." He cast a glance at Caroline who, to his boundless relief, had torn her eyes from their host and taken to inspect an enormous albeit amateurish painting of Amaury's late father on his war horse. How he would love to take her to Bretagne, show her the craggy Atlantic coast with its little fishing villages. "We shall see. Speaking of not setting foot, I am to pass on Damon Salvatore's best," he added, not bothering to hide his grin at Amaury's sour expression and Caroline's creased brows.

"Please tell me you are not acquainted with that... that fils de putain?"

"Stole something from you, did he?"

In a theatrical gesture, Amaury threw his hands up in the air. "A gentleman does not put a hand on what belongs to another," he said with a pointed look at Caroline, earning himself a scowl, "and Damon Salvatore is no gentleman. But you did not come to speak of that scum."

"Gods, no. We would like to see your gaols, my friend."

The Frenchman stuffed his hands in his pockets, scrutinizing first Klaus, then Caroline, then Klaus again. "The most beautiful city in the world is right at your feet. The Seine, the parks, the canals, the lights - hell, even that dreadful tower - and yet you desire to take a sunset stroll through my dungeons?"

Klaus shrugged. "The lady has peculiar preferences."

"Look who's talking," Caroline retorted, "I'm not the one who carried her family around in coffins for decades."

Amaury chuckled and gave her a wink. "You have seen nothing, ma chère. Your man here..."

"He's not my man," she interrupted, "we're just... friends."

For the duration of one schizophrenic moment, Klaus felt both ecstatic and crushed. Friends, they were. The question remained, what more than that? His face was carefully neutral when he said, "We do not have much time, Amaury, so I would be grateful if we could be on our way."

The other man's eyes darted back and forth between them before he gave a sigh and shook his head. "Drama, drama. Have a drink in the salon while I fetch my keys, and then we will leave. Oh, and Klaus, please try not to use Les Invalides as your personal boudoir. The spectacle you gave at the Panthéon with that young courtesan took decades to be forgotten."

"That was over two hundred years ago," the Original muttered, acutely aware of Caroline's raised brows.

"Some things change, some don't." With a suggestive snicker, the younger vampire swept out of the hall and flashed up a broad flight of red-carpeted stairs.

Deciding not to comment and hoping Caroline wouldn't, either, Klaus led the way towards the mirror-covered door of Amaury's opulent reception salon, a monument to a time long past when women's skirts were as wide as men's attire was colorful. He couldn't contain a quick grimace at the memories of his own clothing back then. The one ongoing challenge over the past thousand years had been the necessity to follow the dictate of contemporary fashion if one strove to blend in - and that particular period had been a fashionable nightmare. The tights, the silk, the feathers... Somewhere hidden in the depths of his Mystic Falls mansion lay a portrait he had crafted of Elijah in full courtier attire; he needed to remember to dig out the painting and hang it in their New Orleans residence. Although chances were that his older brother would never speak a word to him again. Yet where the male Mikaelsons recalled the era as being one large, single offense against good taste, Amaury did not share his viewpoint. The entire house gave the impression of a film set whose designer had embarked on a drug-fueled baroque craze.

He held the door open for Caroline and watched with a certain glee how her lips formed a condescending smirk when they stepped into the ballroom-sized salon. Two dozen turquoise chintz sofas were strategically scattered all over the room, clashing in a cringe-worthy manner with the thick red carpets and heavy green curtains. Ancient oil paintings depicting pastoral sceneries covered nearly every square inch of the walls, and what little space remained was tiled with mirrors - as was the whole ceiling. All furniture was either gilded or painted with gold lacquer.

"Huh," she muttered, turning back and forth while taking in the room, "weird, isn't he? He must be the single hottest guy on the planet, but one look at this plush-a-rama, and all horniness goes up in smoke. If this is what interior decoration used to be back in the day, I'm surprised humanity didn't go extinct. Who could procreate under these conditions?"

"Well, there was always the outdoors," Klaus pointed out with a conspiratorial grin. She always managed to lift his spirits in a matter of seconds. "Gardens, meadows... forests," he added as an afterthought, right before her earlier words sunk in.

The single hottest guy on the planet.

Why was he surprised? Perhaps because the naive little boy he had once been had hoped that Caroline might be the one exception, the one woman not drawn to Amaury's pretty face. Well, it would seem he needed to grow up. Clearing his throat while battling down his stifling new bout of jealousy, he shrugged. "Few failed to find him attractive, and as far as I know, no-one was ever appalled enough by his penchant for decorative overindulgence to turn him down."

"Hard to imagine that Damon managed to take a girl from him, if that's what he did."

"Indeed. Drink?"

"No, thanks. I feel like I've fainted and woken up in Dangerous Liaisons; for all I know, the wine is poisoned." She gave him a small smile while wandering around the room, shaking her head every now and then. "He seems nice. Not at all like someone who runs a big vampire community."

"Not at all like me, you mean?" he asked.

"Not at all like you."

He chose a carafe of Absinthe, not bothering with sugar cubes and the other paraphernalia. After he had filled a sturdy crystal tumbler, he downed the drink at once. "He is not always warmth and charmth. I am not always the dark lord of terror."

"I know that." When he turned to look at her, glass still in hand, her face had softened. "I've seen what's underneath your Big Bad facade. I... wouldn't have slept with you otherwise."

"Caroline..."

"I have the keys," Amaury's cheerful voice sounded behind them as he dangled an ancient keyring, "shall we leave, just friends?"

With a charming smile of his own, Klaus turned to pat his shoulder. "I recall one of your house rules being no bloodshed before nightfall. I do hope strangulation is permissible, though."

It was only much later that he realized how long it had taken Amaury to fetch his keys.

Caroline saw heads turn as they climbed the steps leading into the monumental Hôtel des Invalides that housed, among others, the tomb of Napoléon Bonaparte. Many stared openly at Amaury who seemed entirely oblivious to the attention and made his way through the throngs of people with a confidence bordering on arrogance. After compelling the ticket inspector, he marched on as if he owned the place, without looking left or right, straight through the dome that protected Napoleon's sarcophagus and on to a side door concealed behind a gigantic pillar.

"What do you do after hours?" she asked as they filed down a narrow flight of stairs. Klaus walked very close behind her, and more than once, she felt like grabbing his hand. If she was to be honest, she had found his earlier display of well-hidden jealousy a little touching. Amaury was a work of art, and she could have stared at him for hours, but one fleeting look at Klaus had more of an effect on her than centuries of gaping at the French vampire could ever claim to have. And it worried her that she thought of these things it in spite of her still-churning inner storms. "Do you have a key to the main entrance?"

"I do, but I never use it. The main doors are too exposed, and one never knows who is watching - or filming - these days. At night, I take a delivery entrance in one of the lesser buildings. But I don't visit all that often."

They arrived at the bottom of the stairs and followed a long, winding corridor leading past half a dozen doors to both sides. At the end of the hallway, they came up in front of a heavy-looking metal door. Amaury produced his key ring and unlocked it. "The keys and lock are spelled," Klaus explained as he stopped next to her. "Amaury is the only one able to lock and unlock this door, and the one further down."

"What happens if you die?" Caroline asked bluntly.

"Then an archaeologist three thousand years from now will come across a very unpleasant surprise during excavations in this area," the Frenchman chuckled. Klaus snatched her arm as she was about to step through the door, gesturing for Amaury to walk ahead; his eyes never left the other man as he closed the door behind them, making Caroline wonder whether he was acting out of a healthy mistrust or outright paranoia. After all, he was the Original Hybrid, and he had known this guy for hundreds of years.

Maybe that's why?

This part of the building gave the impression of complete disconnection from the other. The corridor was no longer paved but made of irregular cobblestones sprinkled with soil and the occasional plank of rotting wood. The walls looked no better. Lighting consisted of a grimy, flickering bulb hanging from the low ceiling every ten yards, and Caroline could see no doors or any other signs of civilization. Without a warning, the corridor gave way to a steep flight of stairs leading further down. During their descent, she began to doubt her idea; it grew colder with every yard, the air was stale and humid, and her instincts called for her to run, to make it back up to where the light was, to escape the thick darkness. What had possessed her to want to see this?

It was at that precise moment that they reached another door, identical to the one above. While Amaury unlocked it, she suddenly felt Klaus' hand on hers. For the time it took Amaury to open the door, their fingers entwined, and when he withdrew his hand, he let it glide all the way up her arm. Without thinking, Caroline leaned back into him and allowed herself one delicious second of comfort from his body.

"Welcome to my humble correctional facility," Amaury said as he pulled the key from the lock and moved to the side. "After you."

"Oh, I insist, my friend - after you."

The Frenchman's smile didn't waver. He placed a hand on his heart. "I am wounded. All these centuries, and still you do not trust me?"

"A pet peeve. Think nothing of it," Klaus said pleasantly.

Amaury didn't seem to mind. With a shrug, he slipped through the door, and Caroline saw him reach for something to his right. A long line of neon lights sprang to life, momentarily blinding her; yet she was quick to recover. What she knew she would not recover from for a while was the sight that presented itself to her as she stepped into Amaury's prison.

Every flat surface was covered in bodies. They were sitting, leaning against walls, slumped on the ground, curled into balls. Few were standing, supporting themselves on the walls, and even fewer were moving. Quiet whispers and barely audible croaks and groans could be heard from different corners of the vast room that contained nothing but vampires in various states of desiccation. Only a couple of the prisoners could still muster the strength to cover their faces when the lights flared.

"All of my guests are repeat offenders and used to be members of my community; some of them have been down here for over two hundred years," Amaury said in the same cheerful tone that had invited them into his house. "Two of them, Perrin and Marie-Louise whom you can see at the far end on the wall to your right, will celebrate their two hundred and fiftieth anniversary next year. Most of the others come and go according to their trespasses. Rogue vampires who do not form part of our happy Parisian family and endanger our lives," he pursed his lips as he assessed her once more, "are usually executed on the spot."

Ignoring the stab, Caroline stared at the two shrunken shapes clad in the remainders of what once must have been clothes and now looked more like a collection of dirty dish rags stapled together. "What did they do?" she whispered, taking a couple of steps further into the room. "What on earth could they have done to deserve more than two centuries of... this?"

"They killed nearly fifty French vampires before we managed to take them down."

"Why didn't you kill them?"

The Frenchman gave her a somewhat condescending smile. "You are very young, Caroline. I believe you are still to discover that death is not necessarily a punishment. But to ease your mind, I am seriously considering granting them death next year as an anniversary present."

She looked back and forth between the dozens and dozens of languishing vampires, covered in dust, teetering somewhere on the fringes between life and death. They were the starkest of contrasts to the beautiful ruler of Paris. The thought of vegetating among them, even if it was for no more than a couple of days, frightened her more than she would ever admit. If hell existed, it couldn't look much different from this. Yet to her own astonishment, she wasn't upset at Klaus for threatening her with incarceration in this place. Anyone else would have simply compelled her to turn it back on. He hadn't. He had known how she felt about compulsion and thus given her a choice. Still... how could anyone run a place like this? Or even tolerate it?

"Have you ever spoken to them since they've been here?" Her tone was low and quiet, as if she was afraid of disturbing what little peace of mind these poor devils may have left. "Asked them why they killed all those vampires, and if they regret what they did?"

"They would say anything to get out of here. Why would I go through the trouble of an obsolete discussion?"

"Oh, you can read minds? Is that it? You know exactly what each of them is thinking? Impressive, I have to say. So when have you become God?" she demanded with sudden venom in her voice. Something inside her stirred. Came to life. Told her that she was beginning to detest this guy and his haughtiness.

"God doesn't exist. And my rule over life and death is no different from your man's. Or yours, for that matter. Have you not decided to end a man's life as recently as yesterday? Pray describe the difference to me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Klaus watching the exchange with great interest, although he did not move away from the door. Part of her liked that he didn't think it necessary to come to her aid, but a smaller part resented him a little for it, particularly as he knew that Amaury had hit a nerve - not that she planned on letting the arrogant son of a bitch see it. Klaus' words from the cemetery echoed through her mind as she returned her attention to Amaury.

"It's in a vampire's nature to kill. I followed my nature, and I bitterly regret it. I've fought it since the minute I was turned, sometimes successfully, other times not so much. This is no excuse, I know, and I'll need a very long time to come to terms with what I did - just as I'll continue to work on keeping this darker side of my nature in check for the rest of my existence. But what you do has nothing to do with our nature. This," she made a gesture encompassing the room, "didn't happen because you're having problems with blood cravings. It happened because you're a megalomaniac dick."

Both their heads whipped around when Klaus broke into a spontaneous chuckle. "What's so funny?" Caroline hissed.

"Nothing. Private joke. By all means, do carry on."

"Do you condone this?" she demanded, her incredulous eyes on his. "Do you approve of what Goldilocks is doing here?"

"His city, his rules."

"Do you have anything like this in New Orleans?"

"It is comparable, but much smaller in size and number of inmates."

"How many?"

"Two, currently. My dear mother and a witch. Let me phrase it like this - my vampires abide by my rules, hence I had no need to incarcerate any of them as of late."

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "And you two make the rules because..."

Klaus sighed. "Because someone has to. Societies do not function without them, love."

"What makes you lock up a vampire down here?" she demanded of Amaury whose smile had finally begun to flicker. "What are the rules?"

"They are quite simple," the Frenchman said with a hint of annoyance. He was obviously not used to justifying his actions, and had it not been for Klaus' presence, she was certain he would have snapped her neck twice already. "Do not kill fellow vampires unless in self-defense, do not expose our kind to the humans, do not leave behind incriminating evidence of your meals, do not touch what is mine, do not challenge my rule."

Bit by bit, the life that had begun bubbling inside her ever since this morning reared its head. She began to recognize herself, began to feel more and more of who she had been before her Mom had taken ill. The little flashes of her old self that Klaus had provoked in her throughout the day turned into thunder and lightning. And before she could grasp another rational thought, that old, impulsive self reached new heights of temerity. In a move too fast for Amaury to react, she crossed the short distance and snatched the key ring from him.

"I think I'm touching what's yours. Now what?"

Klaus straightened.

From one second to the next, Amaury's blinding smile returned. "I ask myself this - what will happen to your courage, or shall we call it reckless stupidity, when you do not have an Original by your side?"

Her own wide beam mirrored his, accompanied by her descending fangs and the familiar feeling of veins protruding underneath her eyes. "Klaus, why don't you go for a walk? Goldilocks and I would like some privacy."

"I believe the modern-day expression is you've got to be kidding me," Klaus countered, his voice filled with genuine disbelief. Disbelief that morphed into palpable menace when Amaury's face turned. It only made him more ridiculously beautiful. "Mon ami, I sincerely hope you are not planning on touching what is mine. And yes, Caroline, we can have a long, arduous argument about this once we are done here, but not now."

A sweet tingle raced town her spine, mixing with her adrenaline rush and the inexplicable hubris that had gripped her since the argument had started. In this very moment, she was sure she could take Amaury down, regardless of his being more than three hundred years her senior and about six foot six. She felt strong, full of life, invincible, although a tiny voice inside her head whispered that she was probably experiencing a similar phenomenon to the heightened taste of food and drink, and the more intense perception of colors, smells and sounds.

The Frenchman didn't seem to share her newfound chutzpah. "Very well, Klaus, then why do you not ask what is yours to return what is mine?"

"You have a mouth to speak. Ask her yourself."

In the ensuing silence, the subdued jingle of the half dozen keys on the ring sounded like church bells. Caroline and Amaury glared at each other, fangs bared, eyes glittering; neither spoke, neither moved, but from the corner of her eye she noticed tiny motions here and there as some of the ailing vampires attempted to raise their heads or change their positions to better see what was going on. Amaury finally eased out of his threatening stance, flashing a smile that screamed condescension.

"It would seem that you violated not one, but three of my rules. You took what is mine, and had it not been for Klaus' intervention, your little escapade at Père-Lachaise would have served to entertain hordes of police, coroners, and newspapers. Lastly, you are in the midst of defying me on my own soil, in front of an eclectic number of witnesses." He cast a glance at Klaus, then looked back at her. "How do you think your paramour here would respond to such acts of provocation?"

Before Klaus could say a word, she straightened to her full height. "I took what was his, and I defied him more than once. As you can see, my head's still on my shoulders."

"For one reason, and one reason only." A knowing expression entered his eyes. "Is it not so, mon ami?"

Pushing himself away from the door, Klaus came towards them at a measured pace, inconspicuously continuing to block Amaury's path to the exit. He grazed the back of her hand as he casually strolled past her, sending a little tremor into the tips of her fingers. His gaze scanned the room before it came to rest on Amaury. His dimples danced with an unexpected grin.

"We go back a while. I have entrusted you with what has been my city for many centuries, and you proved yourself a very capable leader who made intelligent and farsighted decisions." He sighed and let his head fall back as if examining the ceiling. Then he gave Amaury a sorrowful glance. "I very strongly suggest that you do not let today mark the beginning of a series of not quite so astute choices."

"So you will kill me if I hurt her?"

Klaus' smile widened. "No, mate, of course not." He gave the younger man a jovial pat on the back, and Caroline couldn't quench a fleeting surge of disappointment. She didn't want him to kill anyone over her, but a part of her that she kept carefully concealed from the world had always reveled in the knowledge that the Big Bad Original Hybrid would make mincemeat of anyone who dared to lay a hand on her. Amaury tossed her a dismissive glance before he returned Klaus' beam.

"I knew you wouldn't. Women come and go, but old friendships persist throughout the storms of time. Would you like her to remain here for some time, then?"

"Amaury de Lascasse. Connoisseur of women, fine wines, beauty and culture. A man of many talents, indeed you are - yet one aptitude you always lacked. You never learned to listen to what is not being said." Klaus pursed his lips in a mien of disappointment as he patted the other man's back anew. "I will not kill you if you hurt her, mon ami. I will kill you if you touch her. If you hurt her, you will pray to every god you never believed in that I let you die."

Caroline's breathing faltered. His relaxed stance belied the ice-cold and almost evil glow in his eyes. She was looking at the Original who had come to Mystic Falls and scared the living daylights out of them all. The man who had first turned her knees into rubber at his family's ball when his eyes had found her in the doorway and his entire face had lit up with naked admiration. The man who had staked her to prove a point - and turned her knees into rubber again when his tongue had grazed her skin a split second before he had bitten her with all his might. The contrasts in him drove her crazy, and in more ways than one. They always had, they always would. She took a deep breath and was about to speak up when his head whipped around like an owl's and his gaze nailed her to the spot.

"As for you, love - much as I am delighted to see your spirits return, I am afraid I have to concur with our graceful host on one point." His gaze softened infinitesimally. "You are breaking his rules. So unless you plan to lead a horde of immobilized, desiccated vampires to revolution, you might want to reconsider."

"And if I don't?" Her sensible side knew she was brewing a storm in a teacup, starting an altercation she couldn't hope to win, but she wasn't ready to give up. She wanted more of the Caroline feeling, more of herself, and if provoking the angel-faced Devil of Paris got her there, then so be it.

"Then do not expect me to listen to your complaints after Amaury kicks your beautiful backside," Klaus countered. "Your senses are currently all over the place, you're not thinking straight, and you're facing an opponent who is not only centuries older, but also versed in battle in a way you could never dream to be. I do not doubt your resolution and strength for one second, Caroline, but there comes a moment before any fight when you have to decide whether it is worth fighting, and whether you do stand a chance at winning it."

"How did I ever forget about that philosophic streak of yours?" Amaury muttered into the silence.

Caroline put her hands on her hips, glowering at the Original. "Oh, and you never fought a fight you knew you couldn't win?"

"Dozens. Which is why I know what I am talking about."

His answer disarmed her a bit, but instead of admitting it, she rattled the keys and gave him a lopsided smile. "Didn't you say just a minute ago that you'll draw and quarter him if he hurts me?"

"I changed my mind," he said with an air of nonchalance that belied his gleaming eyes. "You seem to be dead set on picking a fight, and given that I am a) on a schedule and b) beginning to tire of this, I would propose we find a more opportune venue and you two get it over with." He gestured towards the door and nodded at Amaury. "Miss Forbes will return the keys to you once we're outside."

For a minute, no-one spoke; then, with visibly reluctant steps, both Caroline and Amaury marched towards the door. Caroline slipped through it first, followed by the men, and cast a last, long look into the vampire prison with its doomed inmates. A lone arm rose from the ground, an arm whose owner she couldn't discern in the tangled mass of bodies. Her heart gave an uncomfortable jolt at the sight, and another one when she realized something. She would come back here one day. She had no idea how or when or why, but she would see them again. Just as the bustling humans at the café this morning, they had become a part of her life. A different, more intense part that felt... more real somehow.

Klaus had been right.

This was her nature now. Her kind, no matter how depraved, made her feel completely and utterly alive. And her humanity, that thing she would have to fight for the remainder of her existence to retain, defined who she was within her kind and beyond her nature. It was her choice, and hers alone. Her Mom had said it on her deathbed - there was nothing she couldn't be. And whatever the future brought, no matter what she saw or experienced, she would never become what Amaury was. A rotten soul with the face of a cherub.

She turned to look him straight in the eye, studying his divine features with meticulousness, and she saw him. She saw a man filled with cruelty and lust for power who had never been hindered by a conscience, perhaps not even back in his human days. And while it was a description that fit not only Amaury, but also Klaus to the dot, one decisive distinction separated the two: the Original had never truly given up on his humanity. He lost the fight for it more often than not, but he still fought. After a thousand years. The realization affected her more than she had anticipated, and it made staring into Amaury's face unpleasant to an unprecedented extent. But she held her ground, as did Amaury.

The long glance of exquisite animosity they exchanged was unmistakable in its meaning. Caroline Forbes had just made her first true enemy.

Without a word, she handed the Frenchman the keys and watched him switch off the light and lock the door. They made their way back to the surface in dense silence. Caroline felt Klaus' wary eyes on her as they walked; she sensed something beyond his annoyance and worry over her and wondered what it could be.

Her intuition proved accurate when they exited Les Invalides via the alternative door Amaury had described upon their arrival. Low and quiet, Klaus' sudden hiss sounded like a whiplash.

"Before we leave, mon ami, do have the kindness of revealing who you informed of our encounter while pretending to collect your keys."

Both Caroline and Amaury gaped at Klaus, perplexed.

"What in the name of bloody hell gave you that idea?" Amaury demanded with just the appropriate amount of self-righteous indignation. Klaus had to grant it to him - as far as performances went, it was convincing.

"I have been accused of many things over the centuries, but stupidity was never one of them," he retorted, shaking his head, "which is why I am all the more disappointed. You should have known better, or at least made a greater effort at deceiving me. Who have you alerted?"

Something changed in the other vampire's face. His voice was more guarded this time. "Klaus, I assure you..."

"Unlock your phone and hand it to me." He approached Amaury, positioning himself between the Frenchman and Caroline. Their spontaneous enmity had amused him for a moment, not to mention his relief at discovering that his lovely girl constituted the exception to the rule after all - she was not at all interested in the other man. Yet after overcoming his initial entertainment, it had taken him mere seconds to gather the depth of their animosity. Amaury's sentiments came as no surprise - the man hated nearly everyone on sight, and a mere provocative look in his direction, let alone full-scale provocation, had cost many a vampire his head. What truly disquieted him, though, was Caroline. The wild determination in her eyes when she had challenged Paris's ruler had filled him with an equally wild rush of pride, one that had quickly been replaced by apprehension in the light of how her rationality had yet to return after the emotional roller coaster of the past day. So he had opted for a diversion that would kill two birds with one stone - taking the focus off Caroline's unexpected crusade and confirm his own lingering suspicions about Amaury.

"I am very offended that you would deem it necessary to question my word." The younger vampire rose to his full height, and Klaus nearly had to smile. Amaury was a wee bit taller and often used his height to intimidate fellow vampires. A reflex reaction, probably. He tsked.

"Mate, pray do recall who you are speaking to. Hand me your phone. I will not say it again."

Amaury hesitated, then seemed to come to the correct conclusion - he had no choice. He extracted his phone from his pocket in slow motion and laboriously typed in the security code before holding it out to Klaus whose eyes remained fixed on him while he took the device. Only after another few seconds did he lower his gaze to the phone - and miscalculated.

For his one instant of deflected attention was all the distraction Amaury required.

In less time than it took Klaus to blink, Caroline was trapped in the other man's stranglehold. With a stake pointed at her heart.

Klaus' veins turned to ice, as did every last drop of his blood.

"Remind me, mate," he said once he could be certain his voice was pleasant and steady enough not to betray the cold stab of fear that held him hostage, "of what was to happen once you touched her."

"I will let her go as soon as you give me my phone and leave Paris."

"Your phone? Interesting indeed. So you did alert someone of my presence." He rolled his eyes at the light flicker on Amaury's face. "Oh, come on. Seventeen-year-old witches may fall for this, but you? Anyway, I have another suggestion. You let her go now, and I give you my word that your death will be quick and painless. For old times' sake." In the loaded silence, he finally took a good look at Caroline. She struggled against her captor, trying in vain to tear his arm from around her throat or elbow him with enough force to free herself, albeit with little success. When his gaze met hers, Klaus' breath caught. Her eyes held no fear, merely a blend of anger, concentration... and the very purest form of life.

Caroline's light. It was back.

He had observed brief glimpses of it over the course of the day, but this, right there, was the beautiful, vivacious, infinitely strong girl he had first set his sights and heart on. Even her dark side held its appeals, and he would gladly content himself with it, yet her light would always bring him to his knees. The absurdity of the moment was not lost on him; here he stood, facing an enemy who had deceived him and was threatening Caroline, but instead of the old, familiar wrath at being challenged, all he felt was the connection between himself and her. He had not needed much time to fall in love with her, yet it had not been until this very second that he realized how far he was gone. No amount of time would suffice to tear her out of his heart and soul again.

"I am afraid I must decline," Amaury pulled him from his reverie. Nothing was left of the Frenchman's amiable mien; his face had become the hard and unrelenting mirror of who he was beneath the flamboyant facade. "Go. Or she dies."

"Do you honestly believe you can hide from me? You are a dead man regardless of her fate, for there is no place on this Earth where I won't find you." His eyes narrowed as he examined the phone again. "And you knew that before you defied me and threatened my... and threatened Caroline. Which leads us to one conclusion."

"He fears you less than the guy he called," Caroline interjected, her voice raspy from the pressure of Amaury's arm against her throat. She lifted a brow and gave a mirthless smile. "Sounds like Daddy Original, if you ask me."

Klaus beamed at her with an appreciative nod. "Just so. But let us make certain." He pulled up the calls menu and chose the last number dialed. The wait wasn't a long one.

"Yes?"

And after a thousand years of being the most powerful creature on the planet, this one voice still managed to convert him into the frightened, mishandled youth he had once been. His secret shame... one that would never go away and that he would never share.

"Dearest father, how delightful," he said over the lump in his throat, garnering his tone with false cheer. "I trust you are well?"

There was a brief silence on the other end during which Klaus strained his ears to identify background noises. He couldn't hear much, but something told him Mikael was near water. Hadn't there been a bird? A pelican? A bloody Louisiana pelican? Another cold shiver froze his system.

Elijah. Rebekah.

He needed to return home, and he needed to do so with no further delay.

"Niklaus. Cavorting around in Paris like the good-for-nothing waster that you are. I am sorry, boy, but I have no time for idle chit-chat, as I am certain you will understand. Do give my best to that useless French bastard and tell him that I shall pay him a courtesy visit once my work here is done."

The line went dead.

"Well, mon ami," Klaus grinned while carelessly tossing the phone to the ground and swallowing his rising discomfort, "it would seem that you managed to make two mortal enemies in less than one hour." His eyes found Caroline, and within all the commotion, he wanted nothing more than to feel her huddled up in his arms like the previous night. Instead, he gave her a nod. "I apologize. Three."

To his eternal delight, Caroline, too, grinned from ear to ear. "I was just about to snap at you for leaving me out of the mortal enemy count."

Amaury was oblivious of their exchange. The magnitude of what had just happened and of what awaited him began to sink in, and every second of it was displayed in his eyes with no filter. He had antagonized the Original Hybrid and failed the latter's Original stepfather, and he knew both of them long and well enough to comprehend that notwithstanding the outcome of their feud, his life was no longer worth a sou. His centuries-old reign over his city had ended as of this minute.

And, most importantly, his mind was absent for a split second.

Yet before Klaus could even think of making his move, Caroline seemed to come to the same conclusion. Within a heartbeat, her face turned - and she sank her teeth into the arm that held her hostage. He saw Amaury return to the present, and he saw his hand. The stake.

No time to take it from him. But time to...

The split second the sharpened wood grazed Caroline's skin, Klaus slammed into the two of them. The Frenchman plunged the stake into her chest and shoved her away, straight into Klaus' arms. He caught her before she fell, and with a subdued groan of horror, pulled out the stake. Whilst his attack had diverted it from its aim in such a way that it had failed to perforate her heart, the sight of it protruding from her chest still managed to nearly give him a stroke. It made no difference that Amaury had already vanished. It made no difference that he wanted to tear the Frenchman apart with his bare teeth and carve out his heart with a tea spoon. All he saw was the pain on Caroline's face and the wound in her chest.

"Love," he said quietly, running his knuckles over her cheek, "we do need to work on our coordination." It was not what he wanted to say, but everything else that spontaneously sprang to mind included either a vow of eternal love, a marriage proposal, or something equally soppy.

Caroline bit her lip, weathering the pain like the queen she would always be in his eyes. "Go get him. I'll be fine."

"No." He shook his head. "Let him run. He will do little else in the near future. I will go for him once my more pressing problems are resolved, and I want him to spend a few months looking over his shoulder at every turn, lying awake listening to every hiss and scratch in the night and wondering when it will finally happen."

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," she said, breathing more regularly and straightening out of her pain-induced crouch. He searched for sarcasm in her tone but found none.

"I do." He chuckled. "Should it have escaped your attention, I always know what I'm talking about."

"You wish. Klaus, this guy will run, and he has a good advance now. It could take you years to find him again."

"I can be patient when I want to be. This is a question of priorities."

"I know." For the first time since returning to life, she really, truly looked at him. Through him. "You have much to do back in New Orleans. Your brother needs your help, your parents are after you again... and you put it all aside to rush to Paris and find me. What kind of a priority order is that?"

Her wound had healed, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Klaus shook his head once and damned all the consequences to hell. "You want me to say it, Caroline? Fine. Then listen."

His lips crushed hers with all the desperate, pent-up feelings he had suppressed since the day in the woods. Her sweet scent flooded his system, followed by a tidal wave of desire when he tasted her - and felt her immediate, heated response. Her lips parted, and it was her tongue that sought his. He let her find him, and when she did, she reversed their roles. All of a sudden, she was the one pulling him out of the darkness, bringing him to life and touching what was left of his soul. Everything was beauty, bliss, and fire. Neither of them noticed how he slammed her into the wall, but they were more than aware of their hands in a frantic race to touch, to feel, their lips and tongues burning each other through and through, their blood thundering in their veins. He was helpless against the merciless explosion of lust when his mouth found the fragrant skin of her neck and she allowed a deep, throaty moan to escape her swollen lips. Her hands knotted in his hair, pressing his lips against her, demanding more, more... more. By all the gods, how he wanted her! Here, now, against the wall, on the hood of a car, on the sidewalk... he needed her as she needed him, and nothing else mattered. Visions danced before his inner eye, visions of Caroline writhing underneath him, shivering with his every touch, making him shiver with the way her tight heat surrounded him...

"Klaus," she whispered, followed by another moan when he let his tongue discover the nape of her neck, "please... you have to stop... because I can't."

"Why?" was all his lovelorn, heavily aroused self managed to ask before giving itself over to the intoxicating thought of licking every inch of her soft, delicious skin until she cried from pleasure.

She made a cat-in-cream sound as her hands found the hem of his shirt and pushed it up. The tips of her fingers traced his back, his sides... and this time, the moan was his. "I'm not in my right mind today," she muttered, biting her lip, "and I want to be in my right mind for this."

He could have screamed with frustration, regardless of how much of a point she had, and of how much he needed her to be herself when he made love to her. But this other need, his own, deeply buried need for her light and for this very particular intimacy he had never shared with another woman before her was so much stronger than reason. The agony he felt when he retreated with one last, lingering, wet kiss to her neck was so acute and real it made him bite his own tongue until he tasted blood. It helped, but the soft glow remained and demanded to be stoked into a fire again. He cupped her cheek as his eyes found hers, and once more, his breath hitched. His pain was reflected on her lovely face, as was his profound need.

"Sorry," was all she said. She swallowed and held his gaze, her fingers trembling against the bare skin of his back. For some reason, it was that slight tremor that brought him back to Planet Earth.

"No, I am." He lifted a hand when she wanted to speak. "You accused me of coming to Paris in search of round two, and whilst it wasn't my actual intention, I would not have said no. QED," he added with a lopsided smile. "I would not have said no in full knowledge of how this is the worst possible moment. I'm very good at choosing worst possible moments."

"Join the club."

"Caroline," he went on, his own voice feeble, "can I ask something of you?" She nodded, her hands tenderly moving over his back. "Do stop touching me like that if you wish for me never to bother you again after we part ways today."

Their eyes were locked in their own silent magic, and neither of them breathed... as Caroline continued to stroke him with featherlight touches. Hours seemed to pass while they stayed immersed in each other, blending out all confusion, turmoil and dread. Blending out reality. In the end, it was Caroline who heaved a sigh and closed her eyes.

"You have to go."

"You will, too. You're not staying here, and you will give both Mystic Falls and New Orleans a wide berth until I have the situation under control. But before anything else, there is one open issue, love." He looked at her with far greater serenity than he felt. "Your humanity. I want your word that you will not turn it off again."

"That wasn't the deal," she countered. "The deal was that you'll accept my decision whatever it turns out to be."

"After twenty-five hours, a time frame I cannot make full use of. I need to return immediately, but not before I don't have your word that you will keep your humanity, and not before I haven't put you on a plane to a destination of your choosing outside of Europe and the U.S."

"I'll stay. I'll find Amaury."

Had he felt an icy lightning of anxiety at the sight of the stake pointed at her heart, it had been nothing compared to the bitter, deadly fear that rose inside him now. "You will do no such thing." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. "Your emotions are not only in a hubbub when it comes to me, Caroline. They also are where Amaury is concerned. What you did in that gaol, whilst out of the best intentions, was irrational and stupid. If you face him alone, you will lose, at least for the time being. Amaury no longer has anything to lose, he has already lost it all today, and a desperate man with fear for his life and nothing to lose is the most dangerous creature on Earth, even more so in light of what happened between you two. Look me in the eyes and tell me you understand that."

"But..."

"No buts. Not this time. On this one occasion, I won't accept opposition from you. I can't take you to New Orleans, and I can't watch over you as long as Mikael and Esther roam free; I need to depend on your common sense. He will meet his fate, I give you my word, and I want you to give me yours that you will leave Europe and keep your humanity even after you will be able to turn it back off."

She debated with herself, and judging by her vivid face, it was a strenuous argument. "Fine," she pressed out between clenched teeth, "I agree to leave Europe for now. And what do you mean, once I'm able to turn it back off? I can do that right now!"

He felt no smugness or triumph at what he said next - but then he had never felt that around her. "I fear you can't. After emotions are being turned back on, your emotions need some days to settle. The mechanics of the switch, for lack of a better word, do not function during that time."

"You tricked me, then. It was never going to be just for a day." To his surprise, he detected no heat in her response, or in her mien. So he shook his head.

"Not entirely. The deal was that I would accept your decision after our time was up. There was never any mention of anything else."

Once again, he expected her to at least slap him, but once again, she didn't do what he anticipated - she smiled a little. "Well played, Big Bad. I guess that makes us even after all those times I tried to trick you." With a nod, she added, "I'm sorry, Klaus, but I can't give you my word."

Klaus stepped back, briefly unsettled by the loss of her touch, and stared at her. After those past hours that had seen her light and spirits return little by little, he had not even considered the possibility that she might still want to switch it back off. He made no effort to hide his irritation as he folded his arms across his chest.

"And why not, if I may ask?"

"You may," she shot back, making his lips twitch against his will. "Klaus, ever since I've turned it back on, I haven't had a second to myself. You programmed the heck out of me with that Paris tour, your therapist antics - not to mention our little Goldilocks drama. I have to be with myself for a while, I need time to mourn my Mom, and I honestly can't tell you how that'll go. But... I'll remember what you said to me today. I'll remember every word. You said a few things I find pretty hard to digest." With a wink, she deadpanned, "If I turn it back off, you can always propose a new deal." The teasing disappeared from her tone when she added, "You'll always find me, won't you?"

He was still fighting down his urge to handcuff her to him, just to make sure she didn't do anything stupid, but for the first time in his life, his natural instinct to retain the tightest of controls over everything and everyone rescinded in favor of... the right thing to do for her. After a couple of deep breaths, he nodded, admitting to himself how few things had ever been this hard for him to say. "I trust you, Caroline. What you do, you'll do for yourself, remember that. Not for your mother, not for your friends."

"Or you."

"Or me." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Tell me, out of the things I said, which was the hardest for you to take?"

The answer came without hesitation. "That you consider me your family."

A strong ray of pain shot through him, but he kept it at bay and merely inclined his head. "Because the idea repels you."

Caroline Forbes had a habit of always catching him off-guard, but what she did next pulled the ground from under his feet. She gathered him close and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his temple. "No. Because I didn't find it in me to protest."

They had been silent on their way to the airport. Klaus was still reeling from her last words, and Caroline, too, seemed lost in thought. She hadn't argued any further over his demand that she leave Europe and remain in hiding until he had taken care of Esther and Mikael. He had asked her not to disclose her destination to anyone, himself included, and to merely let him know once her decision on her humanity was made.

Arriving in front of the Air France terminal, the cab halted. It would take him on to Orly where his private plane was waiting; Charles de Gaulle was a major detour, but he needed a few more minutes with her, and he needed to make certain that stubborn Miss Forbes did get to the bloody airport and wouldn't spontaneously decide to go on a hunt for disgraced French vampires after all.

"What happens to the vampires in Amaury's prison?" she asked, looking out of the window at the hordes of passengers hurrying in and out of the terminal.

"We will see. Another matter of priorities. I will need to find the witch who composed the original spell, and I might consider doing so eventually. Caroline..."

I don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave me.

He gave her a small smile. "Do take care of yourself."

"Isn't this traditionally the moment where you ask me if I'll be okay?"

"No need." His insides twisted and convulsed, and he hated the feeling with undying passion. "I know you will be."

Caroline turned to look at him with big, quizzical eyes. "How?"

"Because that is the only way I can picture you without losing my mind."

Her lively blue eyes widened further. She said nothing, but she did not have to. The hand that took his and squeezed it said enough. They remained immersed in each other for a long while, unwilling to part... unwilling to do what needed to be done while putting their unresolved issues on ice for an indefinite period. Caroline's voice quivered with some unnamed emotion when she spoke up. "Take care of yourself, too, okay? Tell Stefan and Damon that I'm sorry to have caused them so much trouble, and that I... thank them for what they did. I'll see them as soon as you guys win the war."

"Very well." He cursed his weakness as he yanked her into his arms and framed her face with his hands. "Love, Mikael is as clever as Amaury is observant. He made his deductions from what Amaury told him and thus knows that you play a role in my life. I don't want him to learn of the extent of that role." He closed his eyes when she covered his hands with hers. "Stay away from the U.S. Should you happen across Amaury, which I seriously doubt given that a man of his tastes will not leave Europe even when his life is at stake, kill him, or run. Immediately. No discussions, no drama, no nothing, do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will inform you once it is safe for you to return home. Should you need to change phones, let me know your new number."

"You'll defeat your parents, won't you?" The unmistakable concern in her voice was lovelier than any song he had heard in his long life.

"I did it once, I will do it again." Raising a brow, he grinned. "You could call it my side job."

She gave a little scoff. "Your day job being The Plague?"

"Nice. You make me sound like a superhero."

"Oh please! You couldn't pull off the spandex in a million years!"

They gazed at each other and had to chuckle. Klaus released Caroline and nodded at the door. "Go." He would have loved nothing more than to pull her in for one final kiss, but he knew he could never let her go if he did. She seemed to share his sentiment and skidded to the door, opening and closing it very slowly. Only when she already stood on the curb did she turn around, leaning into the lowered window.

"What did I say to you? Last night, in my sleep?"

He conceded himself one last, delicious look at her, imprinting her beautiful frame and lively face in his mind for what he knew would be the remainder of eternity. Only then did he repeat the words that had warmed and made him smile for hours and that he would replay to himself every day until he saw her again.

"Been waiting, Klaus. What took you so long?"