Notes: Yikes, it has been ages! Chalk it up to a combo of writer's block + my monster Klaroline Vacay Exchange Fic + general real life busyness! Writing's been easier lately so CYI will hopefully be back to semi regular updates (I aim for every ten days or so). There have been a few reviews mentioning the 'slow burn' and, in the interest of full disclosure, that will continue! This fic is tagged as humor and friendship for a reason, and was always meant to be more of an ensemble. I completely understand that it's not for everyone though! Hope everyone enjoys this chapter (Klaus returns next time!).

JANUARY – SATURDAY

KOL:

Kol's not paying much attention, head ducked low, burrowing into his coat for warmth. There are many reasons he's always headed to warmer climates this time of year, the most pressing being his hatred for feeling like all of his favorite appendages are in danger of freezing off. It's inevitable that he bumps into someone outside of his building. It's icy, but Kol manages to keep his balance. The other person? Not so lucky and they go down with a curse.

He recognizes the voice and Kol has to swallow back a laugh, upon seeing Caroline, glaring up at him, knit hat askew, and shopping bags strewn about. She didn't seem to have been injured, so is it a crime to see the funny side of things?

"Sorry, darling," he manages, after a moment. "Didn't see you there." He offers her a hand, and she takes it, with an annoyed huff and Kol pulls her to her feet.

"You're lucky it was me, and not Mrs. Harris," Caroline lectures, brushing snow off of her pants, "She'd have broken her hip, and sued you for the rest of your trust fund, and then I'd be stuck with you forever and ever."

"Maybe she'd have landed on that vicious little rat dog. Silver lining, that. Possibly a community service."

Caroline smacks him with the back of her hand, before bending to pick up one of her bags, "Mean, Kol."

"Mean is her refusing to give me the recipe for her piernik. Family secret, my arse. Does she want it to die with her? That would be a travesty."

"Ah yes, but you obsessively trying to recreate it makes the apartment smell amazing, so I can't complain."

"You're selflessness astounds, Caroline," Kol deadpans, leaning down to grab a small bag that had landed near his foot. There's tissue coming out the top, which in Kol's experience usually means something good is inside. He reaches in, comes out with something purple and lacy and delicate on his fingers. It's definitely on the naughty end of the grand spectrum of ladies unmentionables. He lets out a low whistle, "Although, perhaps I spoke too hastily, and you're planning on being very generous in the near future? Niklaus won't know what hit him."

Caroline looks over, her pink cheeks flushing deeper as she snatches the bag back. "Kol! Snoop, much? Rude. And for the last time…"

"You're just friends," Kol finishes, pitching his voice higher in imitation her.

"That's right," Caroline agrees, ignoring the underlying mockery. But then she was a professional denier or the less than friendly feelings Kol was certain she entertained for his brother at this point. He's glad that he'd never ended up setting up that betting pool, because he would have lost. He'd not have expected things to go on quite so long, but Caroline's stubborn and, for whatever reason, Nik's been reluctant to push. Nik had been an excellent wingman, in the past, and Kol's witnessed him use reserves of charm to great effect. But he's careful, with Caroline, sincere and almost unsure. It's an entertaining dance they're doing, Kol will give them that.

Caroline's tucked the shopping bag with the lingerie deep inside another, larger, bag. She turns towards the doors without saying anything else. Kol rushes ahead, opening it and bowing, "After you, milady."

Caroline rolls her eyes and stomps past him. Kol grins, trailing her, tapping a hand to his chin, deliberately antagonizing, "Hmm. New lingerie? It's almost like there's a special occasion on the horizon, despite how vehemently you protest. Some sort of hot date? I might give Niklaus a little birds and the bees refresher. Just in case. I think it's been awhile for the poor bloke and I'd hate for him to muff up his shot. He might have forgotten the pertinent erogenous zones."

Caroline's tapping her foot, waiting for the elevator, "A woman doesn't only buy new underwear when she's planning on having sex, Kol. I happen to believe in the confidence boosting power of a good bra."

"Right. I'm sure it's your confidence that's being boosted. Along with your tits." The look she shoots him is completely lethal, and Kol winces. His contributions to The Perv Jar have dwindled. It's still fairly lucrative for Caroline, Enzo's fined often, Bekah and Stefan regularly. Kol has made it his mission to somehow, someway, force Elijah into a slip up that will require him to pay up. It's quite nice not to have to worry so much about having ones on hand (a lesson Kol had learned early on – Caroline didn't believe in IOU's and he'd lost a couple of fives in the early days). "Yes, I know, inappropriate, and I must pay."

"Yep," Caroline replies unsympathetically, just as the elevator door slides open.

They shuffle in, and she pulls off her mittens, juggling her bags. There's a fair amount of them, and Kol is curious. Caroline's been adamant that she's not going on a date with Nik tomorrow, but shopping was one of her stress tells (along with cleaning – he'd walked into the kitchen a week before Christmas to find her lying on the kitchen floor scrubbing underneath the cupboards with a toothbrush), "So, why the retail therapy then?"

"Can't a girl enjoy some post-holiday bargains, without the third degree?" Caroline doesn't glance his way, during her airy response, staring up at the glowing numbers as they ascend. "Where are you coming from, anyway?"

"Lunch with Elijah," Kol tells her, deciding he'll allow the less than smooth change of subject. He does have a bone to pick with her, after all. "It was odd and uncomfortable and I'm quite sure it's your fault."

Caroline's lips press together, and she looks almost guilty, before she adopts an innocent tone that absolutely does not fool Kol, and asks "Uncomfortable? How?"

"I had prepared myself for another lecture – financial responsibility, moderation in my vices, being more tactful with my critiques of Rebekah's garish label whoring. The usual, you understand."

"You should stop with that last one," Caroline pointed out, "or Rebekah might strangle you with a Hermès scarf one of these days."

"Money can't buy taste, Caroline. I see that at work, every day. I'm only trying to help Bekah." Kol wasn't. At all. But his sister was so easy to rile, and the results were usually hilarious.

The elevator opened, and Kol dug his keys out of his pocket, leading the way down the corridor. "But no, no lecture was forthcoming. I was on tenterhooks, all throughout the first course. But Elijah chattered on. Asking about my job, and about you and how we get along, and about how I'm finding it staying in one place for months on end. If I wasn't completely confident that only Elijah can manage such a precise three point fold on a pocket square, I'd think he was a pod person." Kol throws the door open, and enters, kicking off his shoes.

Caroline arches an eyebrow, looking at them pointedly, and so he bends and arranges them so they're not in the way, holding back a grumble. Kol's ceased to imply that her anal retentiveness could be improved with a few rounds of sex, and he's long since stopped offering his services (in the interest of saving his no longer nearly unlimited funds), but he thinks it.

"That sounds nice," Caroline says slowly, eyebrows furrowing, as she passes through the threshold of their apartment, toeing off her boots, and aligning them next to his.

"Exactly! We don't do nice, Caroline. That's for sitcom families and politicians."

"Maybe you could start."

Kol grimaces, "That sounds boring. But, back to the part of the story where this is your entire fault."

Caroline's eyes widen, almost too much, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Elijah mentioned he'd stopped by your office," Kol tells her knowingly, and she deflates. "And since I'm quite sure you two don't exactly exchange text messages and gossip, I assume he went there to grill you about me. Or possibly about Nik, but Elijah tends to butt into his affairs less often. It's discrimination, in my opinion."

"I wouldn't say grill me," Caroline hedges, eyes darting away.

"Ah-ha! Knew it. Oh, Caroline, do try not to infect us with your touchy feely sentimentality. I'm afraid we're allergic to such things."

"Yeah, and people grow out of allergies. So Elijah's proud of you, and, gasp, expresses that verbally," Caroline exclaims, a hand flapping about for emphasis. "What's the big deal?"

"If Elijah wishes to be sappy, he should express his pride with cash and or gifts. It's the Mikaelson way, and I see no need to abolish such a grand tradition."

Caroline's set her bags on the couch, and crosses her arms, pinning his with a shrewd look, "You didn't appreciate it? Not even a teeny, tiny bit? I won't tell anyone."

Truthfully, Kol's still a bit in shock, having grown exceedingly comfortable with his role as black sheep, and unsure of how to react to Elijah's approval. He'd made jokes, and ordered a few too many drinks for a midday meal, in hopes of spurring one of those judgmental eyebrow lifts that Elijah specialized in. But he'd not succeeded and when they'd parted he'd watched Elijah warily, half-expecting a hug. Thankfully Kol had been spared that particular brand of awkwardness. "I think appreciate is too strong of a word," Kol says finally, under Caroline's expectant gaze.

She lights up, and actually bounces, "Ha! I knew it. You're a secret marshmallow, Kol Mikaelson."

"You take that back," Kol insists.

"Nope. I think it's a family trait. It took me forever to find Rebekah's ooey gooey center too, you know. And I totally glimpsed Elijah's yesterday, with his adorable big brother shtick. Klaus is next, just you wait."

Kol opens his mouth to reply, but Caroline's volume rises, as she talks over him, "And you don't get paid until next Friday, so maybe you should think long and hard about what you're going to say next."

He glares at her, hating that she's right, and hating that she'd dropped such a good opportunity for innuendo – about how she could go about finding Niklaus' soft side – into his lap. She'd probably done it on purpose, and that was just inconsiderate.

The smirk she tosses his way, before she flounces out of the living room, is confirmation that he's correct and Kol makes a mental note to exact revenge, at some point.