AN: First, I have to say thank you for your patience. Thank you for your reviews, favorites and alerts. Sorry I didn't have an AN in the last chapter. I was planning to put this one up right afterwards with an AN but I got serious writer's block… and as the show started up again, it's kind of changed the plot I had in mind. So, I'm going to try to take it from here and keep it relevant and entertaining. Reviews are appreciated :) Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy and that it is worth the wait!

To be clear, in this story, Klaus knows Elena is alive but he doesn't know her connection to making hybrids.

Toil and Trouble

Bonnie frowned as she looked at the notebook that had quickly become her very own, Bonnie Bennett grimoire. She'd scribbled bits and pieces of spells Klaus had researched for her (or compelled out of someone.. or blackmailed.. or killed) into it, as well as a few she remembered from the days she had spent in the Salvatore library. In the back of her mind, hundreds of witches echoed and clamoured to speak above each other and make their opinion known – except when Klaus was around. Then, they were frostily silent.

But she could source them: she could close her eyes and browse her consciousness like she was flipping pages in a book until she found the key she needed. If she knew where to begin, she could discover practically any spell the witches had ever known. And the longer she was with Klaus, the more spells she knew to look for.

His first real request was for a potion to seal boundaries.

"Like what you did for the tomb," Klaus explained one day from her bedroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed in front of him. He was wearing a long sleeved grey shirt that curved happily around his arms.

"You can't lock me in here," Bonnie had replied groggily, forcing herself to sit up with a pained expression on her face. The sun was streaming in from the window and she took a minute to get used to the brightness. One eye closed, one slit open, an unhappy grimace on her lips and a palm to her forehead. The ponytail she tied her hair in had come apart, and was a sloppy mess of frizz and hairband to her left.

"It's not for you," Klaus said. "I have no need to trap you." A deliberate pause. "Do I?"

He had to bite back a smile at the helpless witch, all tousled and sleepy with her barriers down before him. Tread softly, he thought. She could still escape, and he couldn't let that happen – not until he got something out of it.

"I could still escape," Bonnie voiced his thoughts, blinking at him.

"Just make it," Klaus said, pushing off of the door railing. "Something I can sprinkle at a barrier to keep the supernatural from coming in or getting out without my permission."

Bonnie's eyes shot open and her lips parted, as if a thought were eager to escape. But she composed herself very quickly – a human, maybe even a Salvatore, would not have noticed. But Klaus did.

Her speech did not betray her inner thoughts: "I don't know any spells like that."

"Figure it out," Klaus said after a long moment, waiting for her true scheme to come to the surface. But she didn't flinch or fidget. Secrets, he thought. "You have 'til tonight."

So she did. She knew how to spell ashes – had done it to immobilize Katherine. And she knew how to lock people in rooms – she had done it to trap Katherine the night of the party, and to keep Alaric safe the night of the sacrifice. Child's play. The problem was combining the two.

It only took five straight hours, two nose bleeds, three witchy consultations with the voices in her head – who, by the way, kept asking the same annoying question that had popped into her head when Klaus mentioned the potion – and a bottomless cup of coffee, but she had it.

Then it took another two hours to decide what to do with it.

The witches warred in her head, debating all the possible ends to handing it over or not. Give it to him and gain his trust, some said. It's easy to unspell, they said. Don't help him kill, others argued. You don't know what he's using it for, another cautioned. The trapdoor, said the most convincing. The trap door.

She had been hovering around it when Klaus was around. He must know about it. Yet he did nothing to approach it or question her presence near it. Maybe he was waiting until it was strong enough to hold her.

Or to hold wolves.

Do you really want hybrids in the house?

Compel them not to hurt humans. He didn't compel them not to feed on witches.

Bonnie shuddered. The voices warred, rushing over each other. It was so chaotic, she closed her eyes against it. Everytime she made a decision, another voice popped up to persuade her another way. Her heart was thudding in irritation, and no matter how much she rubbed her temple, the headache wouldn't subside.

And then suddenly – it was gone. It was silent. She could hear the clock ticking on the wall.

When she opened her eyes, she knew why.

"Klaus," Bonnie greeted the hybrid with a steady glare as he picked up a vial of clear liquid.

"Discrete," he said, holding up old perfume bottle to inspect the contents. Wait, did he… he almost smiled. Bonnie blinked. She must be seeing things.

"I try," she said.

"Will it work?" Klaus said, turning his eyes on hers. His face was drawn and serious: his eyes were scanning her face for any sign of betrayal, his lips were full and pursed like he was waiting any second to respond to a vicious, cutting remark.

So, Bonnie said simply: "Yes."

"It better," Klaus said, tossing it up, catching it and sliding it into his pocket as he turned around. "If not, you're going to have a lot of funerals to attend."

"I thought you were through with the threats." Bonnie called after his back.

"Not a threat," he said matter of fact-ly as he left the room. "A consequence of failure."

KB

The second thing he requested took four days to deliver.

She was surprised when he asked for it, and spent half her time distracted from searching for the spell as she tried to figure what exactly he was getting at. He wanted her to make hybrids, she thought. But these enchantments were almost harmless in their ordinariness. Couldn't any talented witch make this? Bonnie frowned. Sure, she wouldn't have the assistance of a hundred witches, but she also wouldn't have them arguing every time she closed her eyes when Klaus wasn't near.

Because what Klaus wanted was an enchanted necklace.

Kind of like the ring she had made for Caroline, except with a different enchantment this time. He wanted a necklace that protected against compulsion in a way that vervaine could not.

"If I really wanted to compel your little vervaine-junkie friends," he had pointed out after he made the request, pinning her with his eyes, "I could."

"My friends, maybe," Bonnie frowned. "But witches can't be compelled."

A small smile, pulling at the corner of his lips. "I have compelled my fair share of witches before."

"You have not," Bonnie said, staring him down, calling his bluff.

As he paused to consider how he should respond, Klaus observed the witch. She was seated cross legged in the kitchen, the pyjamas of a dead girl hanging from her hips. She had given in and began borrowing clothes from their closets. A shirt of someone taller than her hung off one shoulder, exposing the curve of her shoulder and a glimpse of sharp collarbone. Her hair was in a ponytail behind her head, leaving her neck enticingly exposed. The hum of her pulse was a magic of its own.

"It's not the kind of compulsion you're used to," He said, surprisingly both of them with his honesty, "It's a more drawn out process of subtle suggestions." She opened her mouth to respond as he brows furrowed, but he interrupted before her voice could escape: "I haven't done it to you."

The name was unspoken between them. Greta. He had planted the seed and let it grow until she was torn from her family, from her life.

"But you're saying you could?" Bonnie said, her face slowly relaxing as she tried to put on a façade of calm. The thudding of her angry heart betrayed her.

"I'm a very determined man, Bonnie," Klaus said, "If I want something bad enough, I can make it happen."

"Why not just charm people into submission?" She snapped, "You seem to think yourself very talented in that department."

"I'm not the only one," He said as quickly before he turned on his heel and was gone.

She didn't see him the week after that. She would have thought he disappeared entirely, except for how the witches silenced when he approached. After a day of searching their minds for a spell they refused to give – why they were so stubborn, she didn't know – she would collapse exhausted onto the couch. But she would wake in the morning strangely refreshed. Her sleep was without dreams and arguments. Klaus had obviously been home while she slept, and left before she woke.

One night, the witches had fought her with particular venom that she felt physically exhausted. After trying all day to get them to talk about something other than the strange conspiracy of what did Klaus really want, Bonnie had to struggle to climb the stairs. She discarded her clothes without thinking, her attention turned solely to the voices in her head.

Why would he want a necklace to protect someone from compulsion, one asked.

It's a weapon, another concluded.

It's a trick, a third said, such a spell doesn't exist.

To make her trust him? The first asked.

It's a weapon, the second insisted. He will give it to someone who must be compelled to be defeated.

Someone like that, the third said, could not be compelled by anyone but an original.

He wouldn't give someone power over him, the first paused.

It's a trick, the third repeated, to distract her.

It's a gesture, Bonnie offered at last as the hot water hit her skin. Her body wanted to relax, but the voices swirling in her head forced her to remain tense. Her whole face hurt from alternating grimaces and confused and pensive expressions all week.

She wouldn't help him, a new voice said meekly.

She has her own interests, a fifth voice said with a sharp, angry edge that made Bonnie shudder. She will do what she must to live.

And we will do what we must to protect our kind, the first said calmly, from abominations of nature.

She is doing the opposite of that, the fifth voice was louder this time, she seeks to create hybrids.

No! Bonnie interrupted, but a swarm of voices covered hers. I seek to destroy him!

A creature that can never be compelled… it would take great power to make that kind of protection, the first voice concluded.

The power of a hundred witches, the second said again. It will require constant power.

Constant vigilance.

She will be distracted, the third argued again, from killing him. Expending her power uselessly to protect a monster from compulsion.

It's a weapon.

A trick.

Who is it for? What sort of monster or beast can only be stopped through compulsion?

A collective gasp, and then silence.

The witches were quiet with contemplation. Their shields were down. This is it, Bonnie realized, keeping her mind deliberately blank.

And then there it was: shining and glorious. The witches' defenses down, Bonnie grabbed at it. The spell she needed. She clutched it in her mental hands, memorizing the words even as the witches roared up to grab it back – to keep it from Klaus.

But they were too late. She had it. She had it!

Bonnie collapsed in the shower.

KB

When she woke, she found herself on the couch in the living room. She blinked her eyes open slowly, taking in the sound of rain outside the house. It was torrential – wind whipped up and battered the windows with water. She shivered, instinctively pulling her arms closer to her body. She found herself wrapped in an oversized grey Henley, the edges of the shirt brushing her thighs. She clenched them together instinctively, realizing she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"There's a storm outside," Bonnie turned to the sound of Klaus' voice across the room and felt her snarky comment die in her throat. "Power's out."

He kneed in front of the fire place, piling wood up. Topless. She could make out his back – all sharp angles and fluid movement – even in the darkness and it stunned her with its simple, stark beauty. He shook his head, and drops of water flew across the room from his damp hair. His black jacket was discarded in one corner of the room not far from his boots. He had walked through the rain.

"I can see that," Bonnie said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and realizing she was also sans bra. Great.

"How's your head?" He asked without looking at her as he stood and dusted his hands on his jeans. He reached for matches on the mantle.

"Fine," Bonnie said, glancing at the fire place and setting it ablaze in the space of a breath.

If he was startled he hid it well. He went back to his haunches, staring into the flames for a moment. The lights flickered, lighting up the angles of his face. Bonnie opened her mind to speak, but found herself suddenly mesmerized by the sharp line of his jaw. He was clenching his teeth, she realized.

He turned to her. "What happened?"

"I slipped." Bonnie said, her cheeks threatening to burn with a blush. She tried to keep her eyes from perusing what was before her, but it was so, so difficult. He looked a gorgeous bronze, lit up in the darkness by the flickering flames. Broad shoulders, sculpted torso, jeans slung so low she had to bite her lip to keep from babbling in embarrassment.

It only got worse when she realized he was look at her in the same way. With that look in his eyes, so directed and purposeful.

Their gazes met.

Hungry eyes, she thought. Then he licked his lips and strode towards her.

"Try again," Klaus said, coming to stand in front of her. She felt suddenly small with him towering over her. She was about to shuffle to her feet when he took a seat beside her, leaning forward as if they were in a crowded room. As if he could only hear her if his face was thisclose to her. Except they were alone, and the only other sounds were the torrential rain and the flickering fire.

"I fell," Bonnie said, breaking the eye contact. "You should know. I can only assume you picked me up and gave me your shirt."

"I rescued you, yes," Klaus said with a teasing play at seriousness. He rested one arm on the back of the sofa, and she deliberately ignored his attempt to get closer.

He reached out to brush a strand of her hair free from her face and she flinched.

"You could have done better than just a small shirt," Bonnie said, tugging at the hem. She shifted so her legs were tucked under her. As she moved, he reached out lazily to catch a tendril of her hair between his fingers. She stiffened, but he tugged it lightly and had her muttering an hitting his hand away.

When she met his eyes again, they were sparkling mischievously. "It was an emergency," he said, his eyes skimming over her body again, "I know how uptight you humans are about nudity."

Bonnie didn't feel that uptight about it now. As she averted her eyes from his, she found them drifting often to the hybrid body before her. There was something so hypnotic about it. She was just starved for touch, she rationalized. Being trapped along with Klaus for over two weeks was a lot for anyone to handle, let alone someone like Bonnie who relished her friends' companionship.

But when she glanced up at his face again, she knew that wasn't it. Couldn't be it. Couldn't be all there was. Because there he was, focused intently on the strand of damp hair wrapped in his fingers, running his fingers over it, seemingly oblivious to the way she was checking out him out only seconds before.

"What happened?" he tried again, his voice soft now. He tugged on her hair again, and she shifted slightly to avoid the hurt. She found herself leaning towards him, accidentally suddenly in reach of those caressing fingers. They fell to her face, tracing light circles that seemed to light up with sparks everywhere he touched.

"I was doing as you asked," Bonnie said, her voice tinged with accusation. "Finding the spell."

"The witches," Klaus said with a knowing grimace, "They don't want you helping me."

"Shocking," Bonnie said, "I know."

"Did you find it?" His eyes shot to hers now, his grip increasing slightly on her jaw. She had the feeling that if she moved to turn away, he would find a way to make her look at him. She raised her hand to the one cradling her chin and brushed his bare arm with her fingers. He blinked, the trance breaking slightly.

"Maybe," she said, her throat feeling suddenly dry as he leaned into her touch. She continued to stroke his arm, not knowing what else to do. "What do you want it for?"

"What does anyone want protection from compulsion for?" Klaus frowned at her.

"What's your end game, hybrid?" Bonnie tried again, her voice deliberately frosty.

His response was a small smile that tugged the corner of his lips.

Well, Bonnie thought, accepting the challenge, you're not the only one with secrets. The boundary potion wasn't the only thing she had come up with that week. She had saved some of that enchanted water, been keeping it in a small vial in her jeans pocket. As soon as she had something of his, she would bind it to him – make it work only on him – make him immobile like she had done to Katherine with the ashes. It didn't have to work for long, just long enough for her to get him into that basement dungeon and chain him up.

Which meant, of course, it had to be ingested after she finished spelling it.

Which wouldn't be a problem, Bonnie almost smirked, since he seemed to like running his lips over her.

"Seeing as how I rescued you tonight," Klaus said, snapping her from her thoughts, "Perhaps you can stop plotting my death for one evening."

"Teach me how I should forget to think," Bonnie said.

"Your wish," Klaus said, his eyes dipping to her lips, "is my command."

"You're incorrigible," Bonnie said, but even then he felt the brush of her gaze falling to his exposed chest. He moved forward at vamp speed, pleased with her gasp as his stubbly cheek brushed her smooth one.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice hot against her ear. She shivered and clenched her jaw to keep from making any approving sounds. She felt him smile into her skin. "Especially," he planted a chaste kiss to her pulse, "when" another kiss, this time higher, near her jaw, "you're covered," another kiss, just under her ear that elicited another shiver, "in my scent." He nipped at her ear lobe then, pulling it between his teeth and sucking lightly on her skin.

Bonnie shivered, closing her eyes tightly and forcing her voice to silence at the sensations that were ricocheting through her. They bounced around her body, threatening to spill out of her pores. His hand clenched on her hip, encouraging her to shift forward. Without thinking, she gave in.

And suddenly, his mouth was on her neck. He lay open kisses all around it, and soon she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her through. His hand wasn't resting on her hip anymore. It was running up and down between her hip and waist and moving higher with each stroke.

Alarm bells went off in Bonnie's head, and she moved to break the contact, but found herself suddenly face to face with her seducer. Instinctively, she raised her hands – that she hadn't realized were clenching his arms – to bush him off. But then he smiled, and the warmth that was spiralling through her body seemed to explode in her heart. Her defenses were down. And he pounced.

Klaus's kiss was as hypnotic as it had ever been. The hybrid could make her weak in the knees, she admitted it. She was so overcome in sensation that she couldn't even hear the soft whimpers that escaped her lips between kisses, as if she was mourning the loss of his mouth. The rushing of her blood in her head was dizzying. She didn't even realize when his hands finally venture above her waist, one large palm smoothing over her breast, until the overwhelming heat of him was on her.

Klaus growled into the kiss, pulling her tightly against his body at last. He had waited for this. For weeks it felt, he had waited for the opportunity to touch her again. This overwhelming lust – he hadn't felt this way in centuries. And the words that spilled from that mouth, the clever, snarky things she did and said, the heart that she poured into everything – well, quite frankly, the little witch was captivating. He had told himself to stay away, to refrain – not to scare her, or push her. He needed her for the spell but he had, weeks ago, admitted – he wanted her for something far more selfish.

And right now, leaning into his touch, moaning into his kiss, the heat of her a temptation too great to resist, Klaus decided to indulge.

He smiled into their kiss when she didn't resist and suddenly, Bonnie Bennett was on his lap. The little witch was intoxicating. She was soft curves all over, and her little movements – the way she shuddered, the way she tilted her head to give him better access to her neck, the way her fingers flexed into his muscles as if she was afraid to let him go – were too good.

He shifted again, and she was flush against him. His back to the couch, his hands fell to her hips to settle her flatly against him. He felt the instant she hesitated, her body freezing. He didn't want her to leave, was sure he could coax her to go further, but he didn't want to force her. You will come willingly, he had told her, and he meant it even now.

"Bonnie," Klaus began, nipping at her lip. He raised his eyes to hers, and was overcome with a strange almost crushing sensation again, when he saw her expression. Her lips were parted and pink, her eyes hooded, her cheeks flushed. "Stay," he said, his voice strained.

"Klaus," Bonnie said quietly. She shifted to get off of him. He let her go. She stood on shakey legs. The hum of her body began to settle, but looking at him – his hair ruffled, his eyes intense with desire, his legs sprawled and arms open as if waiting for her to take her place in his embrace again – was too much. She took a step back. "We shouldn't do this." She sounded ashamed. It irritated him.

"You were enjoying it," he barked at her, an accusation if she ever heard one.

She drew her legs together, crossing her arms in front of her. "Don't kid yourself."

"I can smell you," he said.

"You can smell yourself," Bonnie retorted, tugging at the shirt for emphasis. "How narcissistic can you get?"

Klaus frowned. It wasn't his own scent that had driven him to kiss her. It was the idea, he wanted to say, that she was his. Didn't she know that?

"In any case," Bonnie said loudly in the silence of his non-answer, "I have your spell."

"Do you?" Klaus said, his eyes still burning into her. Finally, he sat up and crossed his arms, crossed his legs – made it very clear she was not returning to his embrace tonight.

"Yes," she said confidently, "Now just give me the necklace, and it shall be done."

He surprised her by standing up suddenly and stalked over to his jacket. He walked passed her and, though they didn't touch, she felt the spark of electricity in the air. He pulled something out of the jacket pocket and held his closed fist up before her.

His eyes were daring as they met hers. She jutted up her chin, refusing to be distracted.

When he opened his fist, the chain fell down. It hung from his fingers on a thin silver chain, and on the end was a pendent of the crescent moon. It sparkled in the firelight.

"What's this?" Bonnie asked, reaching up to take it from him. He let it fall into her open palm.

"Cast the spell," Klaus said, a strange knowing look in his eyes. "Now."

Bonnie walked silently to the center of the room, the necklace clutched in her palms. She sat before the fire and focused entirely on bringing that shining, precious spell to the forefront of her mind. With her eyes closed, she didn't notice Klaus come to stand before her.

Bonnie's lips were moving so quickly, he could barely make out the words. They seemed to flow from her without any effort at all. Like everything else about her, he couldn't pull himself away if he wanted to. The fire burned brighter and hotter in the fireplace behind him. The rain stopped suddenly outside – as if the heat of the spell had dried all the water up before it had a chance to hit the ground. He could feel the power emanating off of her: it almost engulfed him in its cool flame as it flowed from her in pulses. A witch as strong as this, he had never come across before. Nor one was beautiful. Or pig-headed.

"It is done." She said suddenly. And with her voice returned the rain, and calmed the fire. She held the pendant up before her, studying it with her eyes before returning it to him.

"You are sure it will work?" Klaus asked, accepting it from her. He turned it in his hands himself, and saw no marked changes. It felt as heavy in his hands as it had for the past couple centuries.

"Positive." Bonnie said, remembering the witches' confused words from earlier. What sort of weapon was she arming him with?

He smiled at her then. A genuine smile. Unfortunately for Bonnie's weak defenses – it was stunning. Then he leaned forward and kissed her.

Well, licked her.

Right above her lips, on her cupid's bow.

"Blood," he explained, "Nose bleed."

"How did you know of this spell?" Bonnie asked, stepping back from him and rubbing her face with the back of her palm. All the blood was gone.

"Rebekah." Klaus said, turning the pendant in his hand. "She had something similar done to a ring once." He met Bonnie's eyes with a wry smile before she could ask the question – "For Stefan. To show that he could trust her."

"Stefan never told me of it." Bonnie said, skeptical.

"She never had the chance to give him the ring," Klaus said, meeting her eyes meaningfully. "And now, it seems, there would be little point."

"It would have protected him," Bonnie frowned, "From your compulsion."

"No," Klaus corrected, "Only from hers."

"It would be stronger if it belonged to the creature who was attempting the compulsion," Bonnie concluded with a nod.

"This one does." Klaus said. He had a wicked glint in his eye when he said: "For my favorite witch."

"What?" Bonnie said, but he was behind her in an instant. She tried to turn, but he stopped her with a firm hand at her nape. He couldn't help himself from stroking her skin with his thumb in an almost absent-minded fashion. But Bonnie knew better than that as she tried to stem the warm sensations from flooding her body again – everything Klaus did was deliberate.

"Now you will know," he said, taking his sweet time to sweep her hair over one shoulder. He lowered the necklace around her neck and Bonnie had the sudden impression that he was tightening a noose. "I will never impose on your free will."

Klaus brushed her hair aside before he closed the clasp. Then he sealed the gift with a soft kiss to the inside of her nape.

"What are you saying?" Bonnie said, as she heard the clasp close and the cold pendant settled happily against her skin. Almost instantly, she felt the walls go up: she was being protected from the strong supernatural forces that sought to control her.

"Isn't it obvious," Klaus said, his breath fanning against her neck again. She could feel the heat of his body from his mere proximity, even though he made a deliberate effort not to touch her. "The necklace is mine."

The voices, she realized, they couldn't control her now. They could only answer her questions. They couldn't impose their will on her own. Couldn't make her black out in the shower.

"You can't compel me," Bonnie said, turning to face him.

"You can trust me," Klaus said, something strange in her eyes that she had never seen before. Like he was holding his breath, gauging her response.

Stunned, all she said was: "Thank you."

And then there it was: that genuine smile that always took her breath away. Be careful, Bonnie, she told herself even as her words caught in her throat, he owes you protection from compulsion – he is not giving you anything more than what you deserve out of respect.

And yet still, as she reached up to trace her fingers over the crescent moon, she was touched.

"You can repay me," Klaus said, snapping her back to the moment, "With a kiss."

Bonnie was suddenly aware of the incredibly attractive half-naked man before her, and had to clench her fists together to keep from moving. He's trying to make me trust him, she warned herself, he's trying to turn me into the greatest weapon of all.

He reached his hand up to brush her cheek and she clenched her teeth to keep from leaning into his touch. Then she leaned forward and caught his lip between her teeth. His hands gripped on her hips, trying to pull her forward as she bit down and caught his blood on her tongue, on her lips. She reached up and rubbed her lips clean with a finger before stepping back.

"There," she said, stepping away, "Now we're even."

Then she went up to her room in the cold darkness, leaving the most dangerous, deviant, handsome, enthralling man she had ever met alone by the fire.

KB

Klaus followed her to her room as he did every night. He stood outside the door for a moment, intending to listen until her heart calmed into the even beats of sleep.

When the witch was alone, her pulse sped up. And when he arrived, it calmed and a strange relief swept over her face. Sometimes he thought she waited anxiously for him to arrive – he heard her pacing before he opened the door – but she never wanted to talk to him. She just wanted to hover in his presence, in exquisite silence. At first, he found it intriguing that she would calm instead of freak out in his presence. After two days, it was annoying: she was clearly using his presence for something. At the end of the first week, he didn't care to discover what it was that troubled her when he was gone. She was happy when he was near – she was soothed by his presence – and that was enough to satisfy his ego in the absence of kisses.

She needed him to be calm, to find peace, to fall into dreamless sleep. So he gave her this small pleasure in secret – stood by, waited until she slept calmly before making his way to his own increasingly cold and lonely bed.

Business had kept him away from the house. Tending to the coffins. Checking on the key ingredients to his upcoming plans. Making sure Elena and the gang were not out searching for the witch. One night he had seen Damon stumbling home, the carefree devil-may-care attitude gone from his aura. Something was weighing on the vamp. But when their eyes met, they shared a grim nod of recognition, and went on their way. Whatever had Damon occupied, he knew he could not go back on their deal or try to save the witch just yet.

Trying to lull me into a false sense of security, Salvatore? Klaus had thought with an almost pleased smile. Their biggest weapon was under his roof. Sometimes in his arms, sometimes under his hands, his lips, his tongue. He didn't fear them.

So, the idea that his presence soothed her worked wonderfully well for Klaus. He would have his hybrids, and he would have his witch too. In every way he wanted to. When the Mystic Falls justice league came after him, he would be done with her, and he would hand her over happily.

And she would be happy to go, an annoying taunting voice that was eerily close to Rebekah's taunted in his head. It chilled him. The thought that she would run happily from the house, into the arms of her friends. Or worse, a Salvatore.

So, he had spared a few drops of the boundary potion to seal her in. She couldn't leave without his permission. For which she would have to ask. No, beg. And barter. And plead in ways only those pretty pink lips and that soft, soft skin could.

He braced his hand on the door, leaning his head on it in defeat as he listened to her thudding heart.

Not that she would offer her feminine charms often. She turned from his embrace. She denied them both what her body obviously wanted. He didn't know why she turned away when he had never done anything to force her. But he did know that when she did finally submit, when she gave in and let him lose himself in her smooth brown skin, and her luscious curves, when she begged for the feeling of his hands on her hips – she would do so willingly. She would know – in his fantasies, he made her admit it on the height of her moans – that she chose him, desired him, came to him, came for him and him alone.

"It's not enough to be loved," Klaus scowled. He had been loved plenty. By Rebecca, with her selfish ways. By his mother, who had betrayed his father and ultimately rejected her own son and cast him into the ultimate loneliness. By Greta, who was so enthralled by his power and charisma that she let herself become compelled – she couldn't think for herself.

To be loved by someone good, Klaus thought, willingly and without condition. To be loved like that, he had always thought an impossibility.

He let his hand slide down the door, slid it easily into a pocket. Her heart was taking long to quiet now. Perhaps because of their activities earlier, he thought. He could still smell her arousal – did she think she could hid it behind that scrap of fabric? He remembered the sensation of her on his lap, legs open and inviting, body moving in tiny motions towards his. There was heat between them, but he wanted friction too. He was a pair of jeans away from feeling his skin against hers in the most delicious of places.

One more week, he thought. One more week until the full moon, and then things would most certainly change. Bonnie would have accomplished her goal (at pain of her friends' deaths) to either make some hybrids or kill him. Should it be the former (as, let's face it, it would probably not be the latter – especially when she was expending her energies on his requests), she would then either be returning to her friends' sides in Mystic Falls or dead... either way, he would have no need for her when her task was complete... would he?

Licking his lips, Klaus stemmed the words that threatened to leak from his lips. He dared not call her name, dared not seek her attention again. He clenched and unclenched his jaw and schooled his expression into stillness. Only then, when he was certain that no movement of his could betray his moment of sentimentality, did he turn on his heel and leave.

KB

It's not enough to be loved.

Klaus' words rang in her ears all night. And sent the witches into a frenzy of deciphering what his true intentions were.

Did he think she hadn't heard him? Bonnie frowned. Sure, she didn't have vampire strength hearing, but she had a hundred witches in her brain with a hundred pairs of magical ears ready to pick up on the slightest noise.

Usually we wouldn't tell you, she thought she heard one of the witches sneer. But it's…

"Klaus." Bonnie finished for her, and they all silenced quickly with the whooshing swallowing of a gasp.