Disclaimer: I own nothing but a much loved DVD of You've Got Mail and too many feelings about Caroline and Klaus on TVD.

Caroline carefully dotted the pastry squares with a dollop of jam each, the rich blackberries smelling fresh to her nose. The little turnovers were her latest carry-out treat for the breakfast window; despite her reluctance to keep the main storefront closed during mornings, she couldn't help but acknowledge that Bonnie was right to advocate for the limited service. Not only did they manage to keep their usual customers for the early hours, but they also attracted new walk-up traffic on their morning commute to work.

There was something to be said for supporting the local community after all, she supposed. Caroline made a mental note to gloat to Klaus about that.

It was odd to consider Klaus Mikaelson a regular around Mystic Bakery, but that was what he'd become in the two weeks since she'd recognized OriginalHybrid's watch on his wrist. Her mind changed daily as to whether or not she was crazy to think them one and the same, and Caroline had taken to testing them both in person and online. She kept the game subtle to hold what little advantage she felt she had. If she was right, then Klaus knew exactly who BarbieBlonde was, at least when they met at the Shop Around the Corner for the second time, and he had left her twisting anyway. Oh, that realization required a bottle of wine and turning off her phone completely to avoid confronting either version of him over the deception. If she was wrong - well, she didn't want to throw accusations without all the facts.

Vindication was so much sweeter when the evidence was damning.

Folding the pastries and delicately crimping them shut, Caroline sighed when the task was complete. As always, work had been a lovely distraction for her, a list of to-dos that required focus and precision. It left little time for her to obsess over the latest dilemma Klaus presented. Or OriginalHybrid presented. The whole situation was infuriating, and she hated not knowing things. Patience wasn't her strong suit, so it was a struggle to play it cool and bide her time.

Instead, she collected clues.

Under the guise of apology for his behavior that night in the bookstore, Klaus began a habit of starting conversations about her interest in the occult. He showed her a new copy of the book she'd been holding, to prove he was trying in the name of friendship. He tagged along with Rebekah to discuss Kol's birthday party and offered assistance at every step - uncharacteristic of him, if Caroline correctly interpreted the other woman's raised eyebrows and knowing smirk. Overanalyzing was a spectacular talent of hers, though she wouldn't call it a good habit. She would give anything to shut her brain up about it for just one night.

As she moved to slide the baking sheet into the oven, a knock at the window made her jump and the pan rattled against the rack. Enzo had been manning the walk-up sales for her that morning, but she needed more jam to whip up another batch of pastries. Sending him off to the farmer's market, she was stuck with double duty. She quickly set a timer before hustling over to the counter, where Rebekah was waving through the glass. "Hey!" Caroline opened the window, her smile faltering as Klaus hung back, offering a grin of his own. "What can I get you guys? We've got blackberry turnovers, bagels, and muffins today."

"Can we come in?" Rebekah asked. She held up a binder bearing Choice Affairs letterhead neatly labeled 'Wanker No. 3,' which Caroline assumed to mean Kol and his birthday party. "I have some ideas about a new appetizer menu I'd love your help with."

Narrowing her eyes, though they lacked any real irritation, she glanced to Klaus. "What's your excuse?"

He shrugged and nodded toward his sister. "This will be her first big event, and there's funding on the line. I wouldn't be much of a development consultant if I didn't accompany her to some meetings."

Convenient that it sounded completely plausible. Too convenient.

"That's a dumb job title," she finally said, her nose scrunching in distaste. But she did tip her head back toward the front door. "Come on, I'll let you in." When she rushed them back to the kitchen, she couldn't help but snort at their sudden, matching expressions of fear. "I'm guessing you guys don't spend much time in the Brews' kitchens?"

Rebekah clutched the binder close to her chest, edging away from the counter when her bag nearly touched the empty jam jar. "Not since I was a child. There's a reason I pay you to make my smoothies, Caro."

Laughing, Klaus tucked himself against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Our mother simply taught me it was impolite to intrude on another's hearth - or oven, I suppose."

The timer rang out before Caroline could point out the irony of him intruding in her business, and she had to dodge Rebekah to check on the pastry. Pulling them out of the oven, she breathed in deeply to check for any burns. "Perfect," she sighed, gently placing them on a cooling rack. Glancing up, she froze as Klaus looked away. "Um, speaking of manners, are you guys hungry? Coffee's fresh, or juice."

With a pout, Rebekah claimed a corner of the counter to spread out the contents of her binder. "I keep meaning to buy you an espresso machine, because I could kill for a caramel macchiato."

"You're not buying me any equipment," Caroline said automatically. It was becoming something of a habitual argument between them, though she supposed it was nice to have such a generous friend. "And what happened to the girl who asked me for a 'skinny' brownie?"

Klaus moved toward the coffeemaker, ducking his head in a show of deference. "May I, sweetheart? I do know my way around a coffee drink or ten, I can mock up something that even Bekah will tolerate. Trust me, your meeting will be far more pleasant if she's caffeinated."

Nodding, Caroline just caught the end of Rebekah's tongue pop back into her mouth and laughed. "Okay, appetizer menu. Talk dirty to me."

Rebekah dug through the dividers and pulled out a sheet of paper with a triumphant wave. "Kol is resisting the idea of a sit-down dinner, so I'm going for more substantial hors d'oeurves to keep the attendees distracted by several different delicacies throughout the night. I have a vegan kitchen and a darling charcuterie to cover some of the list, and I had planned for the caterer I'd already hired to cook the rest. However, he was rude about canceling the dinner and I demanded my deposit back. I've half a mind to sic Elijah on him to explain the proper way to handle a business transaction."

"Okay...?" Her eyes drifted to Klaus, where he was examining the cookbooks she had piled on a nearby shelf. He'd been looking around the kitchen with curiosity, running a finger over various knick-knacks she had collected over the years. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth at a picture of her as a child, baking cookies with her mother. It had been a gift from her dad when Mystic Bakery officially opened, and she felt a weird twinge to know that Klaus was smiling at it. Not a good or a bad twinge, she noted - just weird.

A list was shoved into her hands, thoroughly taking Caroline off guard, and her eyes widened at the sheer number of baked goods Rebekah had written down. "Cheese puffs and pretzels and palmiers, oh my. Ooh, I like the rosemary on that one - but still, I thought the guest list was going to be capped at sixty? There's no way Enzo and I can handle all of this on our own plus the desserts, including the cake." Timing was everything when it came to serving pastry; while she loved a good schedule, it would be far too complicated to coordinate two courses without a full kitchen and staff. "It all sounds delicious, though. Just find another caterer."

Sagging, Rebekah flipped to another page with a list full of contacts, not bothering to acknowledge the mug Klaus set down. "I've been trying, but have only had awful luck. Then Nik suggested asking you, and I thought it a brilliant solution. Your treats are always so yummy and," her voice faded out of focus as Caroline frowned.

It just didn't make sense to her, the effort that Klaus seemed to be making to get in her good graces. Supporting her business and actively arranging for her to get more, reading books she liked, taking every chance to stop by the bakery - it was evidence she was so tempted to place in the 'Totally OriginalHybrid' column she was keeping, but what did it mean? Was he just screwing with her, hoping to get into her pants? Oh, that didn't sit well with her at all. Caroline could feel her face pinch at the thought, a deep urge to confront him clawing its way to the surface. Maybe he really was apologizing for the bookstore, for lying about who he was and why he was there? For keeping her in the dark?

Caroline sighed, forlorn at the never-ending options for whatever the hell was going on. Too distracted to pay attention, she hadn't noticed that Rebekah stopped talking was staring at her with an amused smile. "What?"

"Normally, I'd be offended that you appear to have left the room for a moment," she teased, her expression shrewd as she quickly glanced toward Klaus. "I might be willing to forgive you if there's a good reason. Are you finally dating again?"

Her eyes rolled automatically. "No, I'm not. Even the reduced hours here keep me too busy. Maximizing efficiency is a fun project, but it takes a lot of work."

"Well," Rebekah said, sounding almost disappointed. "What about your mystery man? I thought you were back in touch."

She felt frozen, absolutely unable to make herself look at Klaus to gauge his reaction. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she moved to busy herself with another cup of coffee, subtly ducking past him on the way. "Um, yeah. It's... We're just getting back in the habit of talking again."

"A mystery man." Caroline buckled down her nerves and turned to face Klaus, who was watching her with interest. He leaned against the counter and smirked. "That sounds like something out of a movie Bekah would watch. Tall, dark, handsome - a dream come true."

Biting her tongue, she feared to taste blood and had to curl her hands around her mug to keep from clenching her fists. Some nerve this guy had, with his smug face and pretty smile, blatantly pretending like they were friends. She might have called OriginalHybrid a friend at one point, but Klaus had yet to earn the label; and if they were truly two sides of the same coin, Caroline would need convincing not to throw the whole quarter away.

God, she really needed to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.

So she didn't shirk from his penetrating stare, instead met him with a challenge of her own. "Yeah? Well, then I must not be his dream girl. He had a chance and he threw it away. No one just throws their dreams away."

He did.

In Chicago, his gallery had been making money, his art was selling - and selling well. All Klaus had wanted up until the point it all fell apart was his own name, known far and wide to be greater than the man who'd given it begrudgingly. Then he threw it away for nothing more than attention and indulgence of his whims, too small and insignificant when compared to what he might have had.

With the Brews, he thought his new dream could be a comfortable life that made his family proud again. He'd do well for the business, for Camille, and maybe learn what it meant to be happy back in New Orleans.

But at the Shop Around the Corner, where a beautiful girl waited for him, he did learn what happiness was. It was the light feeling in his chest, like he was always catching his breath with a smile; Klaus only noticed when it was ripped from him in the face of her utter disappointment. That was the moment his dream became winning her over, someday. With each day he failed to tell her the truth, he knew the odds grew more unlikely.

Klaus had felt Rebekah's hesitant concern like a sunburn warming his cheek - too close for comfort and something to deal with later. "His loss, then," he said, faking confidence he couldn't claim. He even managed a wink at the annoyed flush of Caroline's neck and its bright contrast against the white flour dusted across her skin. "Whatever you do, don't let Bekah try to set you up. She has terrible taste in men."

"She happens to like me just fine, mate," Enzo declared as he burst into the kitchen, his arms full with a box of jam. "And my girlfriend, so I'd have to applaud your sister's excellent taste."

Klaus winced at his lascivious smile, which Rebekah returned with a flirty wave. At least, Caroline appeared to feel the same way as she grimaced. "Sure, it's all fun and games until one of you ends up crying on my couch because Bonnie likes the other better," she groaned. Her lips did lift when they turned assessing glares on each other, and Klaus watched as she checked the jars. Sniffing delicately at the first lid, her smile widened and he swallowed reflexively at the sight. "Thanks, Enzo. I might need you to pull another batch of bagels from the pantry later, but we've hit kind of a lull."

Someone knocked on the window again, making them all jump that time. Enzo opened it up and greeted the customer before leaning over the sill to look outside. "You could have fooled me, Gorgeous, because the interns are coming."

"The interns?" Klaus asked, dumbfounded.

Rebekah scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, and you think I'm spoiled. Interns typically do three coffee runs a day: on the way in, the ten o'clock slump, and the afternoon jolt." She raised her eyebrows at Caroline and Enzo's impressed looks. "I am in business school, I've done my share of coffee runs."

While Caroline busied herself with wrapping the turnovers for sale, Klaus placed a hand on Rebekah's shoulder. "We'll leave you to the interns, then."

"Yes, thank you for your help, Caro," Rebekah said, packing up her files. "I'll let you know how the appetizer hunt goes."

"Good luck. You want something to go?" She held out the plate for them to take a fresh pastry, though only Klaus accepted the offer. He noticed her brows scrunch together, quickly smoothed in favor of a too polite smile. "Thanks for stopping in."

He raised the turnover with an appreciative nod. "And thanks for the treat, love." Both Rebekah and Caroline tilted their heads a bit in confusion, and he shared a brief glance of amusement with Enzo before leaving the kitchen. The tiny bells hanging over Mystic's front door jingled as he let himself out, his sister noisily following after him.

"Nik, wait! I'm not ready." Rebekah struggled with the tote bag she carried, trying to shove the planning binder inside. Though he slowed his gait, he kept walking until her heeled boots clattered to catch up. "Well, well, well, that was certainly illuminating. I've had my suspicions, but now I know for sure. You like her."

Taking a bite of pastry, Klaus kept his eyes ahead of him, happily ignoring her curious gaze. "I don't know what you mean."

She snorted in disbelief. "No witty retort? You really like her. For what it's worth, if her mystery guy friend doesn't work out, then you probably have a chance."

"Bekah," he sighed, finally stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Rebekah bounced on her toes in triumph as she awaited whatever weak argument he had yet to create. Pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Klaus scratched behind his ear. "I'm...intrigued. That's all."

"Oh, please. You loathe blackberries, yet you've eaten half of that," she pointed out with a meaningful glance to the jam overflowing onto his thumb. "But Caroline offered it to you, so you took it. Tell. Me. Everything."

Rolling his eyes, Klaus started to walk again. His pace quickened when Rebekah followed him with a laugh. "Come on, I just want to help. I think you're well suited to each other, once you get past the barbs and business. In fact, bickering can be excellent forepla-"

"Bekah!"

Sighing, she relented. "I'm only trying to be supportive. I like Caro so much better than Camille, and you've been more of a prat than ever since she broke up with you. A new relationship would do you wonders to get over your girlfriends."

Of course she hadn't forgotten about the accusations she lobbed at him, though Klaus considered it a minor victory she hadn't tied his apparently obvious crush on Caroline to the emotional affair. He wasn't sure if her efforts would double or disappear should she find out. "Leave it be," he said, taking a final bite of pastry and tossing the rest into the nearby bin. Rebekah wasn't wrong, blackberries were far from his favorite fruit. "Whatever does or doesn't happen between me and Caroline won't be any business of yours."

"It's cute you think that. I suppose I can leave you to your denial, Nik. You just hate that I'm right."

"Don't you have a class to get to?"

She gave a meager pout as she checked her watch. "I need to pop around to some of the other caterers on my list now that my grand plans for Mystic fell through. Are you going to accompany me to those as well?"

Klaus recognized the question for the test it was, knowing full well he only tagged along to the bakery in the first place for the temptation of seeing Caroline again. It was still something of a novel experience, spending time with her without the thick layer of distrust that came with the Mikaelson name. He had quite a long way to go yet, but he was enjoying the small steps along the way, both as Klaus and as OriginalHybrid. In fact, he had an email waiting for him to answer, which sounded like a far more appealing prospect for the rest of his morning. "Actually, I'm going to head to the studio for a bit. Elijah's not expecting me until after lunch, and it'd be nice to get some painting in first."

Thoroughly unconvinced, Rebekah's mouth puckered as she weighed whether to call him out. "Fine," she decided with a sniff. "It's not as though I'm paying for these consulting services, is it? But you're not as smooth as you think, and I want you to know that."

"Noted," Klaus smirked, waving as he turned down the other street. If he had a slight jaunt in his step, then so be it.

Letting herself into her apartment, all Caroline wanted was to trudge to her bed and take a nap. The morning shift could be exhausting, more so since it was no longer the comforting opening of her doors to friends and neighbors. It was a few minutes of chatting at best before the next customers arrived. The hustle and bustle of it all was exciting at first, but she missed sitting with some of her favorite guests. Voices would fill the corners of the front room, forks cheerfully bouncing off plates and teacups rattling in their saucers. Satisfaction was harder to come by through a window alone.

At least business was good, even if it was tiring. She stripped out of her clothes, leaving a trail to be picked up later as she climbed between her sheets, the cool nice against her bare legs. Her phone beeped from the purse she dropped by the door, and she was tempted to let it sit until she got some rest. The pull of the Supernatural Community-specific ringtone, though, was enough for her to roll out from under the covers to retrieve it and whatever clues OriginalHybrid might leave for her to piece together.

And, damn it, she just wanted to talk to him.

Call it a bad habit. Maybe compulsion was a more appropriate description. It didn't really matter what word she used, she was going to read the message anyway.

OriginalHybrid: I had a wonderful day. I can't remember the last time I said such a thing, but it's true. And I wanted to tell you.

A sad smile pulled at her lips as she slid back into bed, cradling the phone close to her face. Seemed she wasn't the only one a bit too attached to be reasonable about the whole thing.

BarbieBlonde: Yeah? What made it so great?

The phantom taste of butter and blackberries coated her throat, a tiny grin at her childhood picture plastered on her mind. Give me something, she pleaded in her mind.

OH: I finished a project, one I'm proud of. It sounds terrible, but it's been a long time since I've been proud of anything I've done.

Disappointment weighed on her like a heavy backpack, hoping for a more concrete reference she could pin back to Klaus. Pangs of sympathy twisted at her stomach, too, the childlike grin she pictured to go along with that sad admission. God, she was so proud of Mystic Bakery and everything they made. That satisfaction was as familiar and necessary to her work as sugar, and life wouldn't be nearly so sweet - even when bitter - without it.

BB: Wow, that must be amazing for you. Will you tell me about it?

Her heart softened already, it was a risk to allow him an opportunity to reject her again. A simple request, but one that could change everything. She hated that a part of her trusted him enough to ask.

Yet, she did.

A minute passed. Then two.

OH: Be kind. I haven't shown my work in quite a long time.

And a photo popped up in the chat. Caroline squinted at the thumbnail before enlarging it, leaving the tempting bubbles that disappeared and reappeared as he seemed hesitant to let the image of the canvas he sent to stand for itself.

She blinked at the painting, the dreary skyline it portrayed somewhat familiar, though it took her an embarrassingly long moment to recognize the splash of city against a great lake. Chicago. Gray smudges against black buildings looked like something out of a comic book, the water an almost violent blue in the crisp, white sunlight. She thought it looked like the remnants of a nightmare, as though it wouldn't stop haunting him until he laid it out in vivid oils.

BB: It's beautiful, in a kind of morbid way. Are you from Chicago?

It was too personal not to have some connection to OriginalHybrid, and she could almost taste a breakthrough coming when he started to reply.

OH: Spent some time there in my wayward youth. Hard to move forward when the past is such a burden. Hence the morbidity. Apologies, love.

BB: You're a wonderful artist, thank you for sharing with me.

OH: I should be the one thanking you, for allowing me the chance to repair what I've broken between us.

Holding her breath, Caroline fought with herself on how to respond. A part of her wanted to throw accusations and guesses and insecurities in his face, another part content to wait until she could do so in person. But her tiredness, briefly forgotten, had only grown worse with the unexpected emotional toll of the conversation and what it all meant. She refused to call it cowardice when she decided to play nice.

BB: That's not a thank you, but I'll take it. Don't screw it up.

Please was all she could think as she turned her phone on silent, tossing it to the end of her bed so she could get some sleep. As her eyes closed, images and conversations and a teasing British accent vied for attention, a paint-slick canvas rearing up in her mind. He still had some major groveling to do, but she wondered if a trip to the Shop Around the Corner would be in order to check out an art theory book or two. It was right next to her favorite section, too, she thought with a yawn. Like it was meant to be.

Tossing his Mikaelson Brews cup into the corner bin, a thrill of anticipation held Klaus's spine taut as he walked toward Mystic Bakery. For ays, he had agonized and fantasized over what Caroline meant.

Don't screw it up.

Did she hope for OriginalHybrid to be more than a screen name? Was she waiting for him to again extend the offer to meet, to follow through and be the mystery man she'd talked up to her friends? Could she want it to be real? Would she want him?

Don't screw it up.

He didn't intend to.

Waking up in his studio with the sun, the light cast a golden sheen to the half-finished painting propped on his easel. It was far different from the bleak colors of Chicago he'd shared with Caroline, and different still from the wild energy of his gallery works all those years ago. The peaceful moment he committed to canvas felt like a breath held in, the lines of books on their shelves a stark contrast to the curves of a blue dress. Curls of blonde hair. A sudden determination welled in his chest, and he knew the day for a little courage had come.

Marcel had demanded his presence at a few meetings in the morning, but Rebekah had intimated a certain baker was unable to talk Choice Affairs that afternoon due to a large wedding order. Braced with an unusual optimism, he felt confident they were on well enough terms for him to drop by and say hello - no social buffers needed. Of course, the last few times he'd tried, she was usually too busy or not even there. There would be no issue if only he had a way to contact her beforehand; the irony was not lost on him that his online persona had such access.

Hopeful they were on a path forward, Klaus approached the bakery's front window, where found her elbow-deep in an elaborate display of flowers. He watched the half-formed rose in her hands slowly grow with each fondant petal she added, entranced by the deft care she took with the arrangement, her brow furrowed in complete focus. While he didn't wish to distract her, Caroline finding him staring for an indeterminate time wasn't appealing either. Lightly tapping on the glass, his lips turned up at the obvious irritation she showed at the interruption, only for her face to fall slack upon seeing him.

She blinked, gently setting down the molded flower to unlock the window and slide it open. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her hand paused mid-air at the powdered sugar coating her fingers. "Sorry, I'm in the middle of cupcake decorations."

"No apologies necessary," Klaus assured her, taking great pains to admire the arrangement in front of her instead of the frizzy bun and bright flush of her face. She looked happy as cheerful music spilled out onto the street. "They're beautiful. Where did you learn to make them?"

Her lips pursed around a smile, eyes ducking to the roses, tulips, and carnations in pinks and whites and yellows. "This is usually where I pretend to have attended a prestigious patisserie school just to see if people believe me, but the honest answer is YouTube. You can learn just about anything if you watch enough videos and practice a few hundred times."

Dimples straining in his cheeks, Klaus tried not to beam at the image that brought forth. Caroline likely wasn't one to handle failed practice results well, and he could only imagine the frustration gained with each poor attempt at perfection. "I believe it, love. Still, your skill is commendable."

"Thank you," she said, picking up the rose to add its finishing touches. "So, what brings you by? All I have to eat are flowers, and I'm going to have to advise against eating straight fondant. In fact, I'll judge you for it."

Klaus leaned on the outdoor counter, chuckling. "Fair enough. It'd be a shame to eat such a lovely work of art anyway."

Nodding, Caroline looked up to him with narrowed eyes. "That's right, you're an art guy. 'Dabbled,' I think you said. I guess I should take your compliment with a slightly smaller grain of salt, since you probably have a good eye."

"Not a great one," he admitted. "My own works tended toward the abstract, once upon a time."

"You paint?"

His wry smile withered, just a bit. "In another life, I was an up and coming artist. Before I allowed the evil Mikaelson empire to draw me back in, of course."

Caroline rolled her eyes, but she didn't seem put off by the honesty. Her head tilted to the side, a half-smile of repressed amusement pulling his focus. "Do you want to come in? You might as well make yourself useful, and I might have need of an artist's opinion."

Intrigued and more than a little thrilled at the explicit invitation, he tempered his pace toward the front door, patiently waiting for her to unlock it. Her eyes seemed to be searching him - for what, he didn't know. "So, uh, what can I help you with?"

"It's not help, exactly," she defended as they walked back toward the kitchen. "But my peonies are being stubborn, and I'm not sure if it's worth including them on the cakes."

"And Mystic Bakery can't have stubborn peonies associated with them," Klaus agreed in a dry tone, laughing when she elbowed him in turn. "I'm sure they're just as beautiful as the rest."

But she threw a warning finger in his face. "If you're only here to flatter me, then your opinion does me no good. Please, I want you to be honest."

Now that was a loaded statement. Klaus swallowed at the charge, knowing he wasn't ready to fulfill such a request - not completely, anyway. In this, however, he thought he'd be safe. "Honest, I shall be."

"Okay, here." She reached toward the end of the counter for a pile of light pink flowers, fluffier and more elaborate than the others, plucking one up for inspection. "They're too big, right? I tried to make them smaller, but they looked...piddly."

"These certainly aren't that," Klaus said. He agreed they were slightly too large to serve as decoration for a mere cupcake, but didn't want her lovely work to go to waste. "Can you save them for another order?"

Pouting, her shoulders sagged. "Yes, but delayed validation isn't exactly my thing. I think they're awesome and want a client to love them as much as I do. I have a consultation for a last minute wedding shower cake tomorrow, maybe it was meant to be." Her lips pulled up, though without her full humor. "Funny, I keep thinking about that phrase."

"Oh?" His heartbeat picked up, and he slipped his hands into his pockets to mask his sudden pang of nerves. "Your mystery man? When Bekah brought him up, I wondered if he were the same man you were supposed to meet at the bookstore that night."

"That's...bold," Caroline noted, her eyebrows raised high as she busied herself with sorting the fondant. "I'm surprised you even remember that."

Dropping his head, Klaus took a steadying breath. "I remember everything, unfortunately, especially my abhorrent behavior. I never quite apologized for that, did I?"

Mouth screwed up like she tasted something sour, she shook her head slowly. "I suppose you didn't. But are you really sorry?"

"Yes," he answered simply, watching her freeze for a brief second. "Honestly, Caroline, I'm sorry for laughing at your passion in all things, even in New Orleans and its mystical history."

Though she likely didn't want to, her stance relaxed - just a bit. "It's a great city, with an energy that mundane life just can't explain."

"I know." Her eyebrow raised again, and he felt the abashment due for daring to pretend he wasn't just as intrigued by the subject. Luckily, it also provided him a golden opportunity. "After reading some of those books, I bought a ticket for one of the haunted cemetery tours. I've lived in New Orleans for so long and never bothered to dig into some of the murkier history and legends."

"You didn't."

"I did," Klaus promised, a nervous grip tightening each of his muscles as he leaned against the counter. He licked his lips, his eyes carefully assessing her face for a sign past the blatant disbelief. "Would you like to go with me?"

It was a long time coming, even before he'd decided to repair the relationship he broke with BarbieBlonde. Even before he knew for certain who she was, something about the bubbly baker so damned earnest in her attempt to protect the neighborhood with a stern sense of right and wrong made him want to listen to what she had to say. Now that Caroline and BarbieBlonde were one and the same, only a fool would walk away from a chance to have everything he wanted - all at once.

Her eyes narrowed. "You Mikaelsons are something else."

Klaus winked at her disbelief, feigning a sense of calm despite a light shudder of fear down his spine. "Take a chance, sweetheart."

"Seriously?" Jaw tight, she looked him over again with an oddly intent gaze. "When?'

A sigh of relief caught in his throat. "Tomorrow," he coughed out. "At one."

She chewed on her bottom lip before pulling a phone from her apron. "Give me your number. I'll let you know if I'm available."

Rattling off the numbers in a rush, he did his best not to seem too eager. It must not have worked given her half-smile like she wanted to laugh, but he didn't care. She hadn't laughed and thrown the invitation back in his face, the possibility he was so scared of becoming reality, ending everything. "I'll leave you to your flowers, then," he promised with every intention of leaving before he could ruin his chances. "Best of luck."

"Thanks," she said, letting him out of the bakery. She lingered at the door, contemplation thick in her expression. "Why are you doing this? I'm just a woman who used to badmouth your family everywhere she went. Dating me sounds like a terrible idea."

Klaus frowned like he didn't understand the question. He didn't understand. "You clearly haven't met you, Caroline Forbes. Tomorrow, think about it."

Turning before he could push his luck, he breathed in the thick air of New Orleans. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he walked away, figuring Caroline must have texted him so he could save her number in return. Klaus couldn't help the happy grin on his face when he pulled it out, the hope she was finally going to give him a chance making him giddy. But then he looked at the screen. She hadn't sent him a text.

Rather, she'd messaged OriginalHybrid.

BB: Do you seriously think I don't know who you are?

For a moment, he just stared at the text, wondering if he'd forgotten how to read; she couldn't possibly- His muscles locked up, and he was forced to stop with a hand clenched around his phone. Slowly, he glanced back over her shoulder toward Mystic Bakery.

Klaus could see Caroline with her arms crossed through the glass panes of the front door, once again closed to him, and his heart dropped.