Violet had left their bed over an hour ago, groggily shushing Klaus when he'd offered to get the baby. Poor Beatrice woke almost every night around three, crying and worrying over her new little teeth that had her gums red and swollen. Usually a bottle of warm milk and a quick stroll around the house would lull the baby back to sleep, but tonight Klaus could still hear her fussing.

He was tired just listening to the baby's fretfulness and he knew all too well how exhausted Violet must be. Deciding to ignore his older sister's previous insistence to stay in bed and rest, he got up to rescue her from the night's responsibilities. He was awake anyway.

There was only one small lamp lit in the kitchen, but the soft yellow light illuminated the tiny island treehouse their parents had built long ago. Violet had her hands full, pacing the wooden floorboards and bouncing Beatrice in her arms, but the baby was red-faced and stubborn, quite unwilling to be comforted.

"Hey," greeted Klaus quietly, not wanting to wake Sunny, although he wasn't sure how she could sleep through the noise.

Violet turned at his voice. She seemed unusually frazzled, on the verge of tears herself. "Klaus," she reasoned. "You should be sleeping. It's my turn to take care of Beatrice." Despite her words to the contrary, Violet seemed relieved to see him.

"I have been resting. Now, it's your turn." Klaus held his arms out to take the baby.

"You don't have to…" Violet argued, but relented easily when Klaus lifted the baby from her care.

He brought the baby's head to his shoulder, patting her back. "Shh," he whispered in the baby's ear. She was nothing but chubby baby, all sweetness and vulnerability, that is, when she wasn't crying loud enough to bring the house down. Sometimes Klaus forgot that he couldn't take credit for making this wonderful creature, that she wasn't his. He surely felt fiercely protective of her. "It's okay. Go to sleep," he said soothingly, bouncing the baby gently, and to both of the sibling's astonishment the cries stopped immediately. Violet's forehead crinkled up and she let out an exhale that sounded too close to a sob for Klaus's liking. Beatrice sucked her little fingers into her mouth, finding comfort in them. Klaus shrugged, silently raised his eyebrows at his older sister, then turned from her to begin a trek around the perimeter of the common area of the house, swaying the baby gently as he walked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Violet shake her head in disbelief, press her knuckles to her mouth, and turn away, leaving Klaus alone with the baby. Only a few minutes later, feeling confident enough that the exhausted Beatrice would stay asleep if he put her down, he laid her in her cradle, making sure to turn on the self-rocking device that Violet had invented for times like these.

Hopefully he and Violet could get another couple hours of sleep under their belt before either of the little girls woke up again. He stopped by the kitchen to turn out the light and startled a little to see Violet still up. She stood at the sink, face reflected in the dark window, and her fingers clutched tight around the edge of the counter.

"Hey," Klaus said again tenderly, approaching her. "We can still sleep for awhile. Come to bed." He ran his hand comfortingly over her back.

She sniffled. She'd been crying. He could see the evidence; tears staining shiny streaks down her cheeks. "I'm a terrible mother," she confessed, voice warbling with emotion.

"No, you're not," Klaus assured her seriously. "You're a very good mother. You're just tired, and that makes you human, not terrible." He stood at her side, facing her. He hated the way she clenched the sink so tight that her knuckles had turned white, so he took one of her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

Violet shook her head. "She likes you better."

Klaus laughed softly, shaking his head. "She's a baby," he answered dismissively, as if that explained all of Beatrice's idiosyncrasies. "And it's not a competition," he added.

"I feel…" Violet's face looked on the verge of collapse again. "I feel…" she repeated, but couldn't get the words out.

Klaus brushed his sister's long, dark hair back from her shoulder and pressed his forehead to her temple. He shushed her like he had Beatrice, providing comfort with his voice and his presence. "Shh. It's okay, Violet. Come to bed. Come to sleep," he said quietly into her ear, pressing a caring kiss to her temple. Her whole countenance softened and releasing some of the tension from her body, she leaned her shoulder into his chest, turning her face so that his lips pressed against her forehead instead.

She sighed his name, just a simple breath, "Klaus."

An unexpected tingle ran down his spine at the way she said his name. She lifted her eyes to catch his gaze and her long lashes were wet from tears. Leaning up on her tiptoes she slid her nose along his to let her lips hover just over his own. He instinctively became very still, his eyelids dropping almost closed when he felt her lips against his. It was just a brush of her mouth, more breath and hesitation than skin. When he reexamined the scene later in his imagination, Violet's pause had seemed like an eternity, an interminable space of time where he lost count of how many of her soft breaths fanned over his mouth. She lowered her head again, her forehead once again against his mouth, leaving him wondering if it had just been a figment of his imagination.

He raised his hand to her cheek, but wavered, unsure, hesitating himself, then brushed her hair behind her ear. Turning finally to face him fully, Violet placed her other hand on his chest, letting go of the kitchen counter altogether to clutch his shirt in her fist. Her mouth was an unexpected miracle when she lifted it to his again, an opening and a closing of her lips on his. Then another. Klaus was sure he'd never felt anything so soft and so warm as the way her tongue barely touched his bottom lip. It was too brief, over before he'd really had a chance to react, before he could make sense of it.

Her hand on his chest travelled to his cheek and he could feel the slight tremble in it. He took an uncertain breath through his nose, feeling unbalanced, like maybe the earth had just turned upside down… or maybe it had turned right side up.

"Okay," he said quietly, answering an unasked question. And it was okay, more than okay. He didn't know really what it meant, but it wasn't something they had to figure out tonight. He led her back to their dark bedroom by the hand he still hadn't yet let go of, feeling as protective of Violet as he had of Beatrice only moments before. He felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest, a sense of pride and contentment. Was it possibly…yes, he thought, just maybe… Klaus felt a tentative curl of happiness take root in his heart, as fragile as a wisp of smoke.

Of all people, Klaus should have been the first to realize that where there's smoke, there's fire.