Notes: It's been awhile for this one! I had wanted to update this for klarolineauweek (Trope Day! Since the whole premise of this fic is "Sharing a bed because reasons!") but some of my other drabbles for that week got away from me. Two chapters and an epilogue after this one! Enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

DAY ELEVEN: ROAD TOWN, TORTOLA

Caroline buries her face into her pillow with an annoyed huff, nudging Klaus away with her shoulder. Yeah, yesterday's morning sex had been great, and she's totally down for a repeat, but she's too tired today. Caroline's certain that it's early, and the itinerary's on the flexible side – when figuring out activities she'd figured rock climbing would leave them sore and so she and Rebekah had planned on simple excursions, within walking distance of the marine. First a spice market, followed by taking a tour of a rum distillery. Then they would head to dinner and one of the five star hotels. The idea had been to treat themselves on the final day of excursions, gorge on great food.

She'd been looking forward to it, had spent a long time drooling over Instagram photos of the dishes. She'd really like to be well rested.

And maybe she doesn't want to think about what the trip coming to a close means.

Two days on the boat after this. Then a quick flight back home. Her home, not Klaus'. Caroline didn't even know if they'd be making it together, or if he was flying back to London out of Miami. She kind of hoped not. The idea of saying goodbye, boarding a plane alone and sad and probably missing him, was really unappealing.

Ugh, not thoughts that were conducive to the sleep she wanted.

But neither is Klaus.

He's persistent, the rough scrape of his morning stubble against the back of her shoulder an irritant that won't allow her to relax and drift off. His fingers curl around the strap of her tank top, baring more of her skin to his attentions. Caroline lets out a grumble, and turns to face him, cracking her eyes open to glare, "Klaus," she complains. "It's sleeping time. What's your issue?"

He reaches out, pushes her hair away from her face, eyes intent and challenging, a slight smirk bringing out his dimples. He looks alert, and only a slight bit of roughness can be heard in his voice, "It occurs to me, sweetheart, that you're a dirty rotten cheater."

"Am not," Caroline first back hotly. She knows what he's talking about immediately, and she presses her lips together to hold in the laugh that wants to bubble out.

Trust Klaus to dwell on the fact that he'd lost their little bet yesterday.

"Does that mean that you're denying the fact that you'd been rock climbing before?" he asks shrewdly.

"Nope," Caroline chirps, completely unrepentant.

"Ha!" he exclaims. "Therefore you cheated."

Caroline shakes her head, "Um, did not. I never denied that I knew how to rock climb. My step dad was a big fan. It was a staple of my summer vacations. It's not my fault that you never asked. I totally would have told you if you did."

Maybe. Probably. She did like to win. But the point was moot. They'd never know what she would have done, since he hadn't asked. So she hadn't technically cheated.

Klaus' eyes narrow, and he looks like he's about to argue. Caroline rolls her eyes, shoving him over on to his back before settling back into her pillow and closing her eyes. "Uh-uh. You lost. Deal with it. I am very much looking forward to collecting on my massage. And my happy ending. But now I want to sleep so shh."

"I'll remember this," Klaus warns. But Caroline hears the rustle of sheets, and the slight shifting of the mattress indicating that he's following her example. "And keep in mind that I'm fairly certain I can make that massage less than relaxing."

Judging from the flash of heat the low-voiced threat (promise?) sends through her, leaving her thighs clenching together, Caroline assumes she really won't mind if he does.

She can always go see Ingrid again on the way back home for the proper kind of massage. Give her an update on the Klaus situation while she gets the knots in her muscles kneaded out.

They've come a long way and Caroline kind of thinks talking about it might be helpful, especially with the blissful vacation bubble only days from bursting. And hey, who was more objective than a total stranger? She'd considered calling Bonnie or Kat, explaining things, seeing what they had to say. But Bon was firmly anti-Klaus and Caroline knew that going over why she wasn't anymore would be better done in person. And Kat wasn't all that helpful where real feelings were involved, despite her happy marriage. Enzo was an option, but he was a guy, and kind of unaware of the nuances. Stefan and Rebekah were out, for obvious reasons.

Klaus' leg shifts, his ankle hooking around hers. He barely flinches when she pushes her cold toes into his calf. A far cry from his once loud complaints. Caroline reaches out, resting a hand on his chest. His comes up to cover hers, stroking down her arm absently.

They fit so well, a long way from where they'd started – at pillow barriers and travel bud ground rules. Caroline, if she's being totally honest, couldn't be more thrilled about where they are. Or more nervous about how to keep it, once they have to go back to reality.


Caroline's humming when she comes out of the bathroom. Klaus glances up from the camera he'd been fiddling with, bringing it up to take a quick snap of her - hair pulled up and a bright dress flaring temptingly about her body. She pauses and blinks and her brows rise curiously, "That looks fancy," she says as she approaches.

"A bit. It's not my favorite medium, but I took a few courses at school."

"Do people buy those too?" she asks.

"No. I merely dabble from time to time." He hadn't really bothered to pull the camera out before now, most of their activities have been a bit too rough and tumble to make the idea of carting it around worthwhile. He'd taken a few on pictures on his phone (though not nearly as many as Caroline has) but he'd thought to take some better ones today. He's set to show at a gallery in just under two months and he hadn't a single painting done. He was banking on the vacation memories would spark some inspiration back when he was in dreary London and a deadline loomed.

He imagined that images of Caroline, gorgeous and happy and looking at him with such warm affection, were likely to do the trick.

She rummages through her bag for a minute, pulling out two sandals and considering them. "Will you send me copies?" she asks. It's lightly uttered, but Klaus can tell that her apparent lack of concern is feigned, and he's not fond of the way she avoids her eyes.

"I'll hand deliver them," he tells her firmly. "The next time I visit."

She glances up, bites her lip, worry clouding her features. "Okay. So not to prove Damon right by appearing clingy…"

Klaus stands and sets the camera aside, keeping a careful hold of his temper. He dearly hoped that it was a very long time before he was forced to be in the same room with Stefan's awful brother. For Damon's sake. "I am not Damon Salvatore, love. Don't ever think that you can't be yourself. Or fear asking me a question."

"What are your plans?" Caroline asks, in a rush. "It's our last port. The boat turns around tomorrow. And I know you said that you didn't want this to be a fling but I'm just wondering how you see it working."

She's got the shoes clamped in her hands, shoulders tense. Klaus reaches down to pry them loose. "I'd flown in the night before we left. I'd planned on spending some more time stateside when we returned. Catch up with Elijah, check on the little one. Kol and I've agreed it's important. Who knows what a fussy nightmare a child with Elijah and Katerina as parents could become without a little spoiling from an uncle occasionally?"

Caroline lets out a soft laugh, relaxing slightly, "He really is the best dressed toddler I've ever seen. Who knew they made pocket squares that small?"

"I'd expected to be camping out in Bekah's guestroom. But I was hoping," Klaus continues, "given how well things have gone, that you'd allow me to impose? Invite me to stay with you?"

He feels oddly nervous, as he asks the question. It's been rolling around in his mind for days, and he's been waiting for the right moment. It's knows it's unorthodox, not the usual progression of a relationship. Klaus finds such a thing easy to dismiss when the past ten days have been as spectacular as they have been. He hopes Caroline does as well.

Caroline surges up, palming his face and covering his lips with hers, curling her hand around his neck when his mouth falls open under the teasing swipe of her tongue. She kisses him fiercely for too short a minute before she pulls quickly. Klaus' breath comes out in a pant, his fingers itching to yank her back. "My bed's not as big as that one," she tells him teasingly.

He leans down, brushes his lips against hers, relief flooding his body. "Technically, we've never needed that much space. Since you can't help your nocturnal wanderings. At least you've finally admitted you can't resist me."

She shoves him away with a scoff, "Shut up. I haven't heard you complaining."

"Mmm, why would I? Particularly once you went back to your skimpy night things."

Her eyes narrow and she bends to slip her shoes on, reaching out to him to maintain her balance. "I still haven't broken out the really skimpy stuff. Don't push your luck."

"Perhaps tonight?" Klaus asks, a touch of hope coloring his tone. He's been very fond of some of her sleep ensembles, is very interested in seeing how much slinkier they can get. "To atone for your shameless cheating?" he goads.

"I did not cheat," Caroline tells him, pointing a finger at him. "You're just a sore loser."

Klaus shakes his head in exaggerated disappointment, trying to look stern, "You did cheat. Intentionally withholding pertinent information is absolutely cheating. You're far more underhanded than your pretty face allows you to appear."

She grins slyly, stepping forward again, winding her hands into his shirt. "Maybe a little. Does it turn you on, Klaus? Just wait until we play Monopoly. I'll kick your ass, of course."

"Big words, love."

Caroline nods decisively, "Alright, next week. It's on."

"I look forward to it," Klaus tells her, pleased she seems to have lost her tentativeness about the future. He sees her in his, and he's got a few more days to convince her that he's serious, another week in her company to drive the point home, to plan out how he'll fit into her life.

He's been thinking about it an awful lot.

Klaus has the upcoming gallery show to think about, two commissions to finish. That should take him into the summer, assuming he doesn't pick up anything else. Henrik will be finished school at that point, no longer stuck in their parent's house and needing an open refuge. Klaus knows his little brother intends to leave immediately, has designs on attending university in New York City following his gap year. Klaus will have a little more freedom.

He's not officially decided on relocating because that would be premature. But he thinks it's more likely than not.

It doesn't hurt to start a few mental lists, go over the possibilities, just in case.


The click of a shutter, familiar now, sounds behind her, and Caroline throws an unimpressed look over her shoulder. They'd spent a couple of hours in the market, discovered that they had very different opinions about tea. Klaus was a traditionalist, insisted that most of the flavored options were appalling. 'That's not tea,' had been repeated, resentfully, over and over. And Klaus seemed to think deliciousness that was sweet tea an abomination, which Caroline just could not wrap her head around.

On the bright side they had surprisingly similar tastes in hot sauce, both purchasing a selection of bottles. He takes another photo, not the least bit bothered by her lack of enthusiasm. "Seriously? Aren't you tired of taking pictures of me by now?"

She doesn't really mind, and she's pretty sure he knows it.

Klaus throws her a taunting grin, takes yet another. "Never. You make the most fascinating expressions, sweetheart. And your dress is just the tiniest bit transparent in certain lights. It's riveting and I can't wait to peel it off of you later."

"Perv," Caroline accuses, though there's little heat.

It's not like she hasn't directly benefitted from his sexual appetite lately.

Or wasn't planning on benefitting again in the near future. Repeatedly.

"Perhaps," Klaus says, not sounding sorry. "They'll be something to get me through once I'm back in cold, rainy London. When I only have your voice on the phone, your face on a screen. For weeks at a time."

"Weeks?" Caroline asks, turning to face him. They're on a footpath, heading to the distillery. They'd been meandering, chatting and enjoying the sun. She'd bent to examine a patch of greenery when Klaus had once again gotten photo happy.

Yet again. Seriously, he must have a hell of a memory card in his snazzy camera.

He'd peppered in plenty of plans for the future during their conversations, promising that he could in fact cook, would blow her mind with his lemongrass grilled shrimp. Mentioned things in London he'd like to show her, spoke of a painting he was struggling with, promising to send her a picture of it, so she could see what he meant about the colors being off.

"I suspect that's all I'll be willing to endure," he confesses. He's annoyingly casual about it, like saying ridiculously perfect, heart fluttering, things is nothing. His eyes are serious, gauging her reactions, a hint of mischief growing. "I do suspect the phone sex will be spectacular, of course. But it will be no substitute for your company."

Caroline turns on her heel, hurries a few steps so he won't see her smile, hears him follow, long strides eating up the distance between them quickly. "Not sure how I feel about phone sex," Caroline muses, sneaking another peek at Klaus.

He raises a brow, smugness growing. "Never tried it love?" he wonders with great interest. "It will be an honor to show you how gratifying it can be."

Her snort is probably unladylike, but conveys her incredulity loud and clear. "Or maybe I just prefer to dabble in Skype sex, ever thought of that?" Though she can see the appeal of listening to him, without any other distractions. Of closing her eyes and following directions as he talks about the things he's done to her, the things he wants to.

Stupid sexy accent.

Klaus makes a considering noise, and she feels his fingertips graze her arm. "I see the appeal. We should try both. Make an informed decision."

Caroline tangles her fingers with his, pleased when he falls into step with her easily. It's a couple-y thing, one she's kind of always liked, and also not something she would have expected Klaus to roll with. But he seems to have no qualms, his thumb brushing over her knuckles absently.

"We'll see," she replies. "What's the time difference anyway? That might throw a wrench into your grand plans. I can't exactly get my dirty talk on at work."

"I will be five hours ahead of you. And I usually work quite late, so it won't be a problem," Klaus tells her, brimming with confidence. "You can call me when you get home without worrying about waking me." He squeezes her hand, "And I'm mostly joking about the phone sex, love. I'd be thrilled, obviously. But perfectly content to hear about your day, tell you about mine."

She bites down the skeptical, 'Really?' that wants to come out. Klaus has made his intentions clear, and she recognizes that she needs to stop doubting him at every turn. She does want him, beyond this trip. She's got to figure out how to do her part to make it work, and she figures planning for going back to their regular lives is a good first step.

Plus, she's awesome at planning and it totally relaxes her.

"Skype might be the better option," she remarks. "More cost effective."

Klaus agrees, "Good point. But we've plenty of time to figure it out. Not just next week at your place but we'll be cooped up on the boat for more than 48 hours. And since I won't have to waste nearly so much time tracking you down as you attempt to avoid my charming company…"

Caroline elbows him gently, and he smirks in response, pulling her closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They've been heading uphill, and the building is in sight, people dotted around. "I object to charming. And I know that every single mutual acquaintance we share would back me up. I'll do a poll if you want."

"Biased. Most of our mutual acquaintances are related to me and in no position to judge."

"They've known you forever. Literally their entire lives in some cases. They should know better than anyone," Caroline argues. Mostly just because it's fun and she can. She makes no move to leave his side, doesn't swat his hand away when he tugs at the end of her ponytail.

"Spoken like a true only child. Trust me, love. Siblings are professionals at never forgetting the bad moments, reminding you of them at every opportunity. Likely for the rest of your life. Mine in particular have viciously long memories. Remind me never to leave you alone with Kol, actually."

He probably hadn't meant for that to be intriguing, but if Caroline was completely unable to resist doing something she'd been told not to do. Even if it was in a joking manner. She made a mental note to pump Kol for embarrassing stories at the earliest opportunity (maybe even find him on Facebook?). She was certain Rebekah would be a goldmine too.

Klaus sighs, interrupting her thoughts. "And I've created a monster, haven't I?"

"Probably," she confirms with a shrug. "If it makes you feel any better I've known Bonnie since I was like two. Once I convince her that you're not actually a dick you can try to coax a few stories from her."

Klaus nods decisively. "I'll do that. Deploy that charm you're so skeptical about."

"She's totally immune to accents, has a hot English boyfriend of her own, so I think you'll be out of luck."

"We'll see," Klaus says. "I'd suggest we'd make another wager of it, but you'd likely cheat. Again."

Caroline tries to resist the bait, really she does. He wants her reaction, the faintly mocking edge to his words a dead giveaway. He likes riling her up, had baldly admitted it. Caroline struggles and fails, her need to be right greater than her need to stick it to Klaus.

She only ceases her argument, her emphatic insistence that she did no such thing as cheating, when it's time to taste the rum.


She's humming again, though it's maybe a touch drunkenly. The rum had been delicious and potent. At dinner Caroline's eyes had widened at the array of brightly colored cocktails available at the restaurant. She'd sampled several with their lavish meal. Her shoes are dangling from her fingertips, she'd removed them for the walk back to the ship, complaining they'd gotten uncomfortable. Her hand is warm in his once again, her head tipped up to look at the stars. Klaus glances at his watch, mindful of the hour. The call to be back onboard was earlier than usual, since it was the last day.

But they've got plenty of time so he sees no need to rush her, not when she appears so relaxed and content.

"You're staring," Caroline sing songs, swinging their joined hands between their bodies. "And do not give me some cheesy line about how beautiful I am. Not if your dumb 'no sex while' tipsy rule still stands."

Klaus laughs, her petulance and the dark glare she shoots him endearing. "One, you are beautiful. Two, I am not cheesy. Three, I was staring. But mostly because I'm in a bit of shocked about how well things have gone. Beyond my wildest expectations. I might even have to thank Rebekah, and I sort of hate that. She'll be insufferable, you know."

Caroline's nose wrinkles, "Oh, yeah. Definitely. I'm braced for all kinds of smugness when we see her." Her face turns contemplative, and she turns to look at him with interest, "Do you think this ever would have happened if she hadn't gotten her grubby little paws all over our room reservations?"

Klaus takes a moment to think about it. He'd been trying, at every available opportunity, to speak to Caroline for the past two years. But she was stubborn, and crafty, so he'd never had much luck. He'd liked to think he would've managed to persevere, that eventually Caroline would have unbent a little and realized Klaus had nothing in common with that appalling waste of cells who'd kick started her cold front. That they'd have found their way past it, somehow.

But he has no way of knowing how things would have ended up without Rebekah's interference. "I don't know," he says honestly. "I do know that it likely would have taken ages, if we'd managed it, and I'm not sorry that it won't."

Caroline smiles, slow and pleased. "Me neither."

"And," Klaus adds, letting his voice dip low, "I might have reconsidered my stance. On tipsy sex. I wanted the first time to be memorable, and since I've clearly convinced you there should be many, many times in the future, I don't see why we should deprive ourselves now."

Her eyes widen and her pace picks up, "Now you say something. Geez. We could have gotten dessert to go, you know."

Klaus doesn't resist as she pulls him along. He likes that she's eager, that she wants him like she does. He barely manages to nod politely at the employee who checks them in when they come up the gangplank. He can't bring himself to care that the man seems amused when he wishes them a goodnight.

Why would it bother Klaus, when it certainly will be?