A/N- Hey Everyone!

This was originally going to be two chapters but eff it.


'Dear Caroline,

I cannot fathom your attitude towards me at this current point in time, though I do hope for the chance to redeem myself in your eyes at a later date. Regardless, I do not care for the thought of you alone and thus, provide you with this substitute for the companionship that we shared for all our years together.

Sincerely,

Your Wolf'

Caroline sighed and folded the paper in half, along the crease and let her hand fall back onto the covers.

It was just past midnight and she must have read that short note a thousand times now.

But the answer to what she was supposed to do hadn't magically revealed itself any of the times she had opened it.

She hears a snort and tilts her head to see Jenna curled up on her bed, twitching in her sleep. She'd put off thinking about the note and everything that it meant and playing with the puppy until her mom had arrived home to find Jenna chewing on the runner carpet.

Caroline had managed to convince her that she'd bought her on a spur of the moment whim and that she'd got a huge discount for her, despite the fact that she was clearly a purebred.

Lucky for her, the Sheriff had been distracted by work.

Reaching down, she scratches her puppy behind the ear, noticing the way she leans into the touch and huffs without waking up.

She was so different from the way Balto had been. He had always slept so silently at night and stretched out, taking up as much space as he could on his blanket.

Probably because she was a real animal and not whatever he had been.

Right?

The word echoes in her mind but she pointedly ignores it because there's a line between the world she knows and the one that Balto inhabits and she's not sure that she's ready to cross that yet.

Her thumb flicks the letter and she's about to hold it up again when she drops it back with a huff.

Okay.

The wolf she'd thought was her pet for five years had turned into a guy and she wasn't exactly sure what to do about that.

Should she tell her mom?

But he hadn't exactly broken any law…except when he'd saved her and Bonnie from whatever the thing had attacked them was.

She exhales and closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

What she needed to do was speak to him.


Caroline has the trunk of her car open before she even realizes that the puppy squirming in her arms is way too small to sit back there.

"Okay," she kisses Jenna's head, "You've been upgraded to the front."

She lowers Jenna gently onto the front passenger seat and watches from the window as she clambers across to the driver's side,

"Sorry, sweetie," she picks her up by the scruff of her neck and puts her back, "I'm the licensed driver here."

The puppy looks around curiously, sniffing the cushion before pushing herself up onto two paws and looking out the window as Caroline slowly backs out of the drive.

Balto had always refused to put his head out the window, giving a long-suffering look whenever anyone had suggested it but Jenna looks as though she would if she were big enough.

When they stop at a red light, she carefully climbs across the seat and settles into Caroline's lap, curling up and putting her head on her paws. She looks so adorable that she can't bring herself to put her back, so for the rest of the ride, she just drives extra-carefully.

It was a Sunday, but when she parks in the dirt, make-shift lot where teens either went to make-out or drink, there was only a few other cars there.

And she figures the owner of those cars would be sitting around or swimming in the Quarry.

But she's not headed there.

She doesn't think.

Instead, she walks Jenna to the place where she and the wolf first met.

She can't remember the spot exactly but knows more or less the right location and Jenna pulls ahead, stopping every so often to look around and make sure Caroline was still at the other end of the lead.

Reaching the area where she had set up the picnic all those years ago, she backtracks a quarter-mile and finds a log to sit down on and wait.

It's only then that she wonders if she's being an idiot.

After all, how would the guy even know she was here?

But Balto had always known where she was, besides, it wasn't like she could have called him or left a note, she didn't even know his name for crying out loud.

So, here she was, on that overcast day, with the birds chirping loudly and the trees rustling in the slight wind, waiting, watching as Jenna pounced at random sticks and breaking them into tinier pieces.

She hears a someone approaching and raises her head, "Balto?" she calls nervously, hoping it wasn't some random, because that would be embarrassing.

And it turns out that it totally is.

The guy that walks through the gap in the trees is wearing biker boots and all black, with pale blue eyes and a smarmy grin that makes it obvious that he totally knows how cute he is.

"Now, what kind of name is Balto?" he asks, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against a tree, and Caroline blushes,

"A wolf's name," she answers, smiling even as something close to fear shoots down her spine,

"Um…are you new to town?"

He comes forward but she doesn't move and Jenna looks up in confusion and barks sharply at him.

"Damon," he announces, holding out his hand but she doesn't take it, remembering the name,

"Stefan's older brother?" she guesses, and tugs on Jenna's lead when she tries to nip at his ankles.

Balto had lost it when he'd met Stefan and now that she knows that weird things exist in the world, she's not entirely sure she wants to get to know this guy.

No matter how smoking hot he is.

"That's the one," he confirms, bending down and looking straight into her eyes.

Suddenly, she feels herself going numb, unable to move or break eye contact, waiting patiently to hear him speak. She wants to shake it off, to wake herself up, but she can't even will herself to think about doing that.

"Now…" he says, his voice low and firm, "Why don't you..."

And then he's gone and it's like she's been doused in a bucket of cold water. She sits up with a gasp and touches her neck, feeling a strange urge to cover it and looking around totally confused as Jenna barks madly.

She hears a strangled cry and sees Damon pressed facedown into a tree, his head turned to the side and his arm twisted behind his back, with a blonde man gripping him by the hair,

"If you ever…" he seethes into his ear, his voice cold and frightening in its fury, "Go near her again or even think about compelling her, I'll visit a death on you crueler than you could even imagine."

With a flick of his hand, he sends Damon flying, straight into another tree which he hits so hard that it cracks and splinters down the middle,

"Leave!" he orders, clenching his fists and Damon snarls his lip in a look of pure hatred but disappears.

Like, disappears as in one moment he was there and then he just vanished, with only a few leaves fluttering where he'd once stood.

And Balto in human form, with his back to her, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes deep breaths and she notes his clenched fists with a thrill of inherent fear before he spreads his fingers wide, straightens his back and turns to face her.

His hair is a mess of blonde curls, his eyes are the blue of the ocean that Caroline has never seen in real life and his lips and jawline make him look like he belongs in a Jane Austen adaptation.

Except his outfit makes him look like a H&M model.

He approaches her and she's not sure how to react, something Jenna obviously doesn't share because pads over and she rolls over onto her stomach, her paws in the air and he smirks, rubbing her belly with his boot quickly before crouching down in front of Caroline.

He reaches up to touch her face and she flinches, although she's not sure why and his hand stills, dropping back down to rest over his thigh,

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks gently.

For a moment, Caroline can only stare at him dumbly, "You can talk," she finally manages, internally wincing at how stupid that sounded, but he only smiles,

"Last time you couldn't."

He glances down at the leaf covered ground with a smile, "Last time, I'd just become a man again after quite a few years," he explains,

"I could barely remember how to walk, it took a bit of practice to remember speech and anything complex."

He seems to think the situation is funny but she can't laugh.

"You were a wolf," she says, "And then you…what are you?"

He clears his throat, "That's a long story…"

"Are you going to kill me?" she interrupts, her blood turning to ice as she trembles and his head shoots up, "Because I kind of know your secret?"

He shakes his head firmly, "Never," he swears, taking her hands and gripping them in his,

"Caroline, you were the first person to show me kindness in years, you gave me a home…"

"Oh my God!" she gasped, staring down at him in mortification, "You saw me naked!"

He frowns, "No, I didn't sweetheart, I always closed my eyes and I think you're in…"

"You were in the room when Bonnie, Elena and I were talking about masturbation." she blurts and he sighs as he rises,

"You're in shock, my love," he murmurs, lifting her to her feet and shrugging off his jacket, draping it over her frame, "Why don't we go back to my place, hmmm?"

Jenna picks up her leash between her teeth and begins dancing on the spot as he places his hand on her lower back, guiding her as she wraps her arms around herself, "I can't go to your place," she babbles, her eyes darting everywhere, "I don't even know your real name!"

He puts his hands, making sure he has her attention, "My name is Niklaus," he tells her,

"Niklaus Mikaelson."


His place turned out to be the newly built brick apartment building across the road from the Grill, and he keeps close to her as they climb the staircase, keeping his hands outstretched as if she's going to trip over her own feet.

"How did you get your own place so quickly?" she asks as he let her into the loft, her eyes scanning the furniture and appliances that all look so new, as if they'd just come from the store.

"You've been missing for at least five years, and I know the agent who lets this place and she does background checks so…"

"I have my ways," he told her and sat her down on the black leather couch, holding her there a moment as if he's worried she's going to faint.

"Now, would you prefer coffee, tea or bourbon?"

He refuses to answer anymore of her questions until he has placed the mug of coffee in her hand and she's sipping on it cautiously, panicking when she realizes that she hasn't seen Jenna in a while, but the puppy has climbed onto the back of an armchair and is looking out the window, watching the people below.

He sits on the coffee table so their knees are just touching and clasps his hands together,

"Now, sweetheart, should I explain everything or would you like me to answer your questions first?"

Caroline gives a little giggle and chokes on her coffee, "You sound British."

She looks down at her skirt and pulls off a piece of fluff, trying to order her mind but can't.

What should she ask? What did she need to know? What would be prying?

"What was that thing that attacked Bonnie?" she asks, her voice barely more than a mumble, and he blinks as if she's surprised him.

"It was a vampire."

And despite literally everything that had happened over the last few days, her first reaction is denial,

"Seriously?! Vampires aren't real!" she points out, shifting the mug to one hand so she can run the other through her hair,

"They're just…" she trails off and drinks the coffee and he seems to understand that she needs a moment so he falls silent too.

Caroline looks around the loft again, taking greater notice of the furnishings this time and sees the flat screen tv on the wall, but it wasn't plugged in or connected to anything.

"Do you not watch your shows anymore?" she asked, knowing that she was veering off topic and he looks over his shoulder to follow her gaze,

"I don't need to," he grins, "Now that I'm in human form it's a lot easier for me to obtain information."

She remembers how Balto had always watched the news and the history channel, but only when the programs were about the twentieth century, anything older and he would switch to something else.

And now, she thinks about all the horror movies he'd used to watch.

She'd used to think it was a little silly.

Now, it sends chills down her spine.

Five days ago, the wolf she'd kept as a pet for years had attacked a man, tried to kill him and then he'd turned into a human and snuck into her house to leave her a gift.

He had frightened her but a part of her had still trusted him, she hadn't even thought about it and then she had driven out to the Quarry and when he had saved her again, she had let him lead her to his apartment.

Where nobody knew where she was.

A little crease appears between his eyebrows, he's frowning slightly and looks as if he's trying to hear something but she's not making any sound.

She's looking at the door and trying to remember if he deadbolted it, they're six flights up and she wouldn't be able to outrun him down the stairs, and it's a Sunday but she doesn't know the residents of the building enough to know who would be home.

"Are you…afraid of me, Caroline?" he interrupts her train of thought and she knows that if she doesn't put the coffee down then she's going to spill it on the leather seats.

So, she clears her throat and leans over, setting it down beside him and noting that he doesn't have any coasters.

"Are vampires really real?" she asks and he nods, "And you're a...werewolf?"

Another nod.

"Were you always a wolf?" she continues and when she sees that he doesn't understand the question she elaborates, "I mean, when you were living with me?"

"A long time ago, I was cursed by a wicked witch," he tells her and she notes that he lisps some of his words,

"The evil hag and her underlings bound me in wolf form and cast me from my home. Unable to communicate with humans or even other wolves, and hunted for my pure white fur, I wandered alone until, one day, by sheer accident, I happened upon a young girl with a plastic container filled with fruit…"

He sounds like he's reciting some kind of fairy-tale but his smile seems genuine and Caroline can't resist matching it, her own lips curling up in response,

"I couldn't recall the last time I'd had fruit before you came back and fed it to me, along with that solidified sugar you called cake."

"Hey!" Caroline interjected, "That cake was delicious!"

He chuckles, "Perhaps, but I'm afraid it was the fruit that won my gratitude,"

"And your kindness," he adds, almost as an afterthought, reaching over and taking her hands, squeezing them gently,

"I had been alone for so long, Caroline and then, there you were offering so much for so little in return."

Her tongue darted out and wet her bottom lip, "You saved me from that bad guy, remember?"

"Selfishly," he answered, glancing down at his hands, "I didn't want to lose my new friend."

Her heart melts at that and she wonders how she could have been afraid of him, after all, if he was going to kill her he could have done it a million times when he was a wolf. Besides, he was so hot and spoke really well, so he probably wasn't a sociopath.

That wasn't to say she didn't have a ton more questions to ask him, as well as some digging to do- not that she's going to tell him that second bit.

"Are you going to stay in Mystic Falls?"

He is a bit taken aback at her question but nods, "I have nowhere else to be, no friends living or family."

She remembered asking Balto- or him- whether he'd had a pack.

Twisting in her seat, she scoops Jenna up, tucking her under her arm as she yawns, the adrenaline having worn off.

"I have to go."

He seems disappointed but stands up and steps back, leaving her plenty of room as he walks her to the door. She bites her lip and pauses before turning back to him,

"Vampires are really real?" she clarifies and he offers a comforting smile,

"I'm afraid so, sweetheart."


The next time she saw her wolf-turned human, barely twenty-four hours later, his shirt was splattered in shades of red.

Caroline reeled back on her heels and nearly dropped the coffee she was holding as he lunged forward.

Which was when she smelt the sharp tang and found herself in the strange situation of relaxing even as she lost her balance.

"I've got you," he promised, half out of his apartment as he held her left arm, steadying her but she still recoiled.

Some of the paint was still wet.

"Okay, are you redecorating and may I come in?" she asks, giving him a cautious look and he grinned,

"No to the first, always to the second." He responds, stepping back against the door to give her a wide-paint free berth as she walked into his loft,

"Art is one of my passions," he elaborates and gestures to the table which was a mess of paints and pictures, "I'm just getting back into the swing of things before using canvases again."

She looks at one of the pictures, intending to be polite and is taken aback,

"Wow, these are really good," she tells him, her eye catching one of a blood moon rising over a river, the sheer vibrancy of the colors and the detail drew her in.

"Although, none of them explain why you came to the door impersonating a serial killer."

He chuckles, ducking his head slightly and she has to glance away quickly because, dammit, those dimples!

"I have to confess sweetheart, I didn't think to see you again so soon." He says as he closes the door and she reaches into her backpack, withdrawing the legal pad she'd swiped from the school stationery cabinet.

"Well, English was subbed by a useless guy who stuck on a video…so, I came up with my list of questions."

His eyes narrow at the pad doubtfully, "Those aren't indexed."

She shrugs defensively, "I didn't really have time…" she starts explaining before seeing his shoulders shake with humor,

"Okay, fine, be that way."

She pretends to get ready to walk out the door and he quickly blocks her path,

"Forgive me, sweetheart," he holds up his hands, "What can I do to acquit myself?"

She smacks the legal pad against his chest, "Start at the top."

As he begins reading, she walks to the window and takes out her phone.

Bonnie hadn't been in school today and Elena had been acting like she and Stefan were coming up on their first-year anniversary. She needed to talk to her best friend asap.

"Okay, well, to answer your first question, I prefer 'Klaus'," he answers as she looks over her shoulder,

"Uh huh, and your date of birth is…?"

He swallows, "Uh…you might want to sit down for that one."


Katherine was woken by the smell of blood.

It made her stomach tickle with hunger even though she had fed well the night before.

Stretching luxuriously on her black silk sheets, she rolls onto her back and inhales the heady mixture of fresh blood and new death.

The world outside is still relatively quiet, even as she stretches her senses, but there is light trying to sneak past her eyelids, so she figures that it must be just before dawn.

With a sigh, she opens her eyes.

Her gasp chokes her scream.

Mason Lockwood is hanging from her bedpost.

Or to be more accurate, his corpse is.

A curtain sash was tied around his neck, forming a makeshift tourniquet that had slowed the exodus of his blood, reducing it to an unsteady drip that had woken her slowly.

His mouth hung open with his tongue stuck out and eyes were open and staring at her accusingly, as if to blame her for his death.

But she wasn't the one who had dealt that blow.

With a smothered scream of frustration, she kicks back the blankets and grabs the nearest outfit, the black chiffon sheath dress she'd worn last night. It covers so little that the dressing was more a symbolic act.

"Elijah!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the chalet, "Where are you?"

She hears the chime of a fork against a crystal glass and follows the sound to the American kitchen where Elijah Mikaelson stood by the stove top, an apron tied over his tailored shirt and pants.

"Good morning, Katerina," he greets cheerfully, "How would you like your omelette?"

There's a vase next to the entryway, an ugly piece with only its age as its saving grace.

With supernatural speed, she picks it up and sends it flying across the length of the room.

Unfortunately, Elijah is faster and manages to swing his arm with enough force that it doesn't break on him but hits the nearest wall, shattering violently.

"Darling please," he chides, "You might have got porcelain in the food."

"You ruined everything!" Katherine seethes, storming over, "I needed Mason for information."

He quirks an eyebrow, "You were using him for a lot more than intelligence gathering," he points out, reaching into the paper shopping bag he'd brought with him and taking out fresh chives which he lay on the chopping board, "I'm surprised exhaustion didn't kill him before I got the chance."

Katherine clenches her hands into fists, "Why are you even here, 'Lijah?"

He picks up a knife and chops the herbs with the skill of a well-trained chef,

"I simply wished to see my wife," he explains glibly, "Salt or no salt?"

She contemplates picking up the frying pan and braining him but her husband tended to be an asshole when his cooking was interrupted.

"If you wanted to see me, you could have written or even called." she points out, as he crushes a bit of rock salt between his thumb and forefinger, sprinkling it lightly over the omelette,

"Yes," he acknowledges, "But then you might have refused, or taken the opportunity of forewarning to run."

He looks up from his preparation and runs his eyes over her body, her breasts barely concealed from his gaze and down to the juncture of her thighs,

"And I have missed you."

She forces herself not to swallow as her body reacts to her husband's proximity and part of the icicle that was her centuries dead heart; melts the slightest bit.


In 1790, word of Niklaus Mikaelson's death had shaken the supernatural world.

Rumors had run rampant, that a coven of witches in New Orleans had achieved what countless others had failed to do. Working in conjunction with Mikael- who had given his own life to see this through- they had killed him.

Katherine had waited one year after first hearing about this before she made her way to the Americas. She had entered Louisiana very cautiously, still concerned that it was all some foolish mistake or misunderstanding.

She was barely off the ship before Elijah found her, her luggage still being delivered to her hotel.

The hotel she had never reached.

Instead, she found had herself being escorted by his footman to his carriage, where he had been waiting, still adorned in a mourning garb of stark black.

At the manor on Bourbon St, she had slowly peeled away those garments before shedding her own pea green dress, letting the priceless pieces fall to the floor before he grabbed her around the waist and carried her to his bed.

She had straddled his waist as he had rediscovered life outside of grief in the taste of her skin, the sound of her pleasure and the touch of her lips.

For a while they had been happy. As happy as they could be with Elijah mourning his beloved brother's death. Katherine had quietly slipped into life at the manor, Rebekah noting her arrival with raised eyebrows and thinned lips but otherwise, not saying a word for several months.

Kol was un-daggered and celebrated Klaus' death in poor taste, even by Katherine's standards, believing that now his half-brother was gone, never again would he see the inside of a coffin.

He'd been wrong about that.

Elijah had assumed his rightful place as head of the family, acquiring not only the position and subsequent power, but the silver daggers coated in white ash.

He'd used them too when Kol had crossed a line.

And the night Rebekah had argued for her brother's release, pointing out that Klaus' excessive use of these weapons was what had made them all glad for his death, Katherine had anticipated that the female Mikaelson would shortly be taking an unplanned sabbatical from the world.

Except, Elijah hadn't been that merciful.

With only the barely required number of words necessary to get his point across, he had explained to her that with Niklaus gone, they were no longer able to hide from the truth staring them in the face.

They were no less monsters than he had been.

For all their chivalry and passionate love, they were no better than he, the only difference was their brother had never pretended to be anything other than what he was, he hadn't suffered the self-delusion they had practiced every single day.

Rebekah had refused to accept the truth, while Katherine already began planning her escape.

But the more Elijah discovered his true nature, the tighter he clung to the one part of his humanity that still lingered in his tattered soul.

They were married in a grandiose ceremony that saw half of New Orleans at the celebration and Katherine used the dancing as an opportunity to slip away into the night.

She managed to run for five years before he found her and taken her back to New Orleans.

He'd kept a close eye on her but otherwise avoided her, taking a mistress by the name of Celeste, until the poor woman was inexplicably drowned as a witch.

Another bout of grief made him even crueler and Katherine ran again, finding pleasure in the arms of others, but not allowing herself to fall for them lest Elijah decided to turn murderous in his jealousy.

The poor Salvatore brothers had barely escaped his notice and that had only been because Katherine had allowed herself to be discovered by him as she was fleeing town.

Their passionate reunion had taken place barely a mile from where the church was burning as the curse failed and the escaped vampires fled into the night.

"I do love you," Katherine had gasped as they'd lain in the cotton field, her hair and back gathering dust as her husband moved above her, "Even now."

The sun was just beginning to rise when he was finally sated and the slaves were beginning to move in their quarters. He'd climbed to his feet, righted his clothes and then tried to do the same with hers,

"If you promise to come home to me in the end, I will stop chasing you every time you leave."


And that had been their arrangement for the last century or so.

Except when she had been gone too long for Elijah's liking, then he sought her out.

Like today.

"Mason Lockwood was from Mystic Falls," she told him as he plated up their breakfast, carrying it to the dining table, "His family had something I've wanted for a while."

"Oh?" he made a sound of vague interest as he poured the coffee, "Was it a pair of knickers perhaps?"

Katherine glances down and realizes that the morning sun blazing through the windows made her sheath even more transparent than she'd thought.

"I can put something on if you like?" she challenged, sashaying over to the table and helping herself to his coffee, "I think there's a pair of pants around here somewhere."

He chuckled in amusement, "Later."

Turning around so that he was sitting sideways on his chair and facing her, he reached out, cupping her hips with his hands to draw her closer before lifting the sheath up to expose her vagina. With his eyelids fluttering closed, he kisses the bare skin just above the curls, "I have missed you, Ekaterina."

Lovingly, she runs her fingers through his hair, biting her lip in pleasure as his kisses delved lower.

She supposed she hadn't really needed Mason after all.

She knew the moonstone was in Mystic Falls, surely she and Elijah could find it themselves?


A/N- There you go.