Notes: This is part one of a DOUBLE update. I apologize for the wait, but December was crazy and I just didn't have the time/focus necessary for the multichapters. I am determined to get back into them though!

FEBRUARY – SATURDAY

REBEKAH:

The door to Caroline and Kol's place swings open, shortly after Rebekah knocks. She's relieved, because the bag she's carrying is heavy. Caroline's belief that quality tequila was a waste, when in a margarita, was not one Rebekah shared, so she'd brought her own. Plus, emergency margarita nights usually ended with Rebekah sharing Caroline's bed, at least since Stefan had moved out.

However neither of the flat's occupants had bothered to answer the door.

"Oh, it's you," Rebekah greets flatly.

"Evening, your highness," Enzo drawls, with an exaggerated nod of his head, almost a bow. "You're a bit late to the party. Might I take your coat?"

"Had I known you'd been invited, I'd probably have begged off," Rebekah tells him snidely, pushing past him to enter, putting a little shoulder into it, when he doesn't give her enough space. "But since I'm here, I suppose I'm stuck. I'll need a drink. Immediately."

Enzo laughs, as he stumbles back. He relieves her of her bag, without further comment, and Rebekah takes off her coat, throws it on the rack, before glancing around. Kol's in the kitchen, his back to her, fiddling with something on the counter. That's perfectly normal, but Rebekah stops short, when she sees what's happening in the living room.

Caroline's on the coffee table, bunny slippers on, a violently pink drink, in a very large glass, in her hand. She's dancing, badly, to the music that's playing, and Rebekah wonders just how long she'd been imbibing for, to have reached that level of incoordination.

And why she'd put in the effort.

"They were like this when I got here," Enzo says, somehow reading her thoughts. "Haven't yet been able to figure out why. I think…"

Whatever he'd been about to add, is drowned out by Caroline's excited, and incredibly high pitched squeal of, "Bekah! You're here!"

A more exuberant greeting, then Rebekah thought necessary, considering they saw each other the day before yesterday. But she'd take happy drunk Caroline over morose drunk Caroline any day.

"Did you being more tequila?" Caroline asks, edging towards the edge of the table. She seems to be somewhat mystified about how to get down, wobbling slightly as her toes dip over the sides.

Rebekah's just about to go help her, because she'd rather not have to take a trip to the emergency room, or hear Caroline complain about having to clean blood out of the carpet, when Enzo's suddenly behind her, distracting Rebekah. She stiffens, at his low voice in her ear, "See? You're at least four drinks behind. Late," he finishes, voice dipping low on the final word.

She glares at him, over her shoulder, puts some much needed space between them, "Caroline said eight. It's barely that."

A loud crunching sounds from the kitchen, and Rebekah glances over to see Kol jabbing buttons on a blender. She narrows her eyes at him, but he takes his time, before turning off the appliance. He grins, when he sees her, sways slightly on his feet, as he approaches, "Darling baby sister, how nice of you to join us! Margarita? They're pomegranate. Good for you. Full of antioxidants. Probably a good thing, if you're going to keep scowling like that. You'll give yourself wrinkles."

Rebekah takes a sip of the offered drink, winces at the sharp bite of alcohol, which she's quite sure negates any of the supposed health benefits Kol had been prattling on about.

She hears Caroline curse, then stumbling footsteps, and she's briefly glad that Caroline's not broken her neck, getting down from the coffee table. Caroline runs into one of the stools by the island, attempts to sit, and nearly topples over. Enzo, moving quickly, catches her, before she slips off entirely, and sits on the one beside, his hand hovering over Caroline's back.

"I think," Caroline says, gravely serious, bracing her hands on the countertop, and eying each of them in turn, "that we need tacos."

Kol nods. And then continues nodding, "I can make tacos."

"Why don't we order some, mate?" Enzo suggests, before Rebekah can. Because allowing Kol to operate the range, or a knife, or possibly even a fork, at the moment, seems like a terrible idea. "I'll buy," he continues, before Kol can protest, "as a thank you for your hospitality this fine evening."

Rebekah's favors Enzo with a quick, grateful look, grudgingly recognizing the sense of the tactic. Kol's become a dreadful miser, not that she blames him, now that he relies on an hourly wage and tips.

"Tacos," Caroline repeats insistently.

"Yes, gorgeous. Chicken or beef?" Enzo asks her indulgently.

Caroline seems to give the question serious consideration, her eyes rolling to the ceiling as she thinks it through. "Both," she decides, finally. "I want both. Fish, too. And guacamole."

Enzo gets up, offers Rebekah his seat. She takes it, grabbing Caroline's arm. Caroline turns wide eyes in Rebekah's direction, "Hi, Bekah!" she chirps. "You're pretty."

"I know that. What I'd like to know is when you drank your first margarita, Caroline?" Rebekah asks, determined to get some answers.

Caroline's head tips to the side, brow furrowing in confusion, she swings around, looks to Kol, "What time did you get off work, again?"

"Three. And when I got home you were moping," Kol says, face twisted in mild revulsion. "And listening to Adele."

It's easy enough for Rebekah to fill in the blanks after that. Kol's slightly changed, in the last few months, but dealing with difficult feelings with excessive amounts of alcohol was something of a Mikaelson family tradition, so Rebekah has no doubt that he'd whipped up the first margaritas in a misguided attempt to cheer Caroline up. And that he'd indulged himself, to make it easier for him to attempt sensitivity.

And tequila had always been a weakness of Caroline's. Once she had some, you might as well give her the bottle, because remaining reasonably sober was off the table, at that point.

Caroline usually referred to tequila as her 'Liquid Nemesis,' for good reason.

"And why, exactly, were you moping?" Rebekah asks. Caroline had seemed fine when they'd had lunch on Thursday, excited even, about a work project.

Instead of answering, Caroline let's her head drop, and rests it on her outstretched arm. She lets out a pitiful moan, and if there's words in there, Rebekah can't understand them.

She looks to Kol, arching an eyebrow. He answers her silent question, "Our lovely friend Caroline has finally admitted that she'd like to get a leg over Niklaus, but it seems as though his latest trip is a little more pleasure then business."

Caroline lets out another noise, her head thumping onto the countertop, her hair sliding down to obscure her face. Rebekah flicks it aside, but Caroline's eyes are closed, "How would you even know that? Did Nik tell you that?"

She doubts it. Nik's far more subtle, than Kol ever has been. It takes a great deal of prodding, to pull even the barest hint of information about his romantic conquests, and Rebekah's had years of practice in doing it. And a ham fisted attempt at rousing Caroline's jealousy seems unlikely, and out of character.

"It's on the internet," Caroline mumbles. "And I'm an idiot. A giant, late, idiot coward."

Rebekah pulls out her phone, not bothering to dispute Caroline's statements. They were truer than not, when it came to how she'd handled her situation with Nik. And while Rebekah loves Caroline dearly, this whole situation has been exhausting, and incredibly trying to her nowhere near unlimited patience. Caroline's feelings had been obvious, to everyone but Caroline, for ages.

Attempts, both subtle and not so subtle, to point them out had been largely unsuccessful.

She and Kol had considered locking the pair of them in a room together, with food and condoms, until they'd worked out the fact that they were filled with soppy feelings for one another, so the rest of them would be spared witnessing Caroline's continued denial, but Elijah had forbidden them.

Because real life was not a movie of the week, apparently.

No imagination, that one. Almost as bad as Finn.

Pulling up her browser, Rebekah searches Nik's name, finds the link to an article on a gossip site immediately. Several pictures pop up, of Nik exiting a nightclub, a brunette in a very low cut dress clinging to his arm. She's gorgeous and looking at Nik like he's a cream puff and she's been fasting for weeks.

Rebekah's nose wrinkles, because she's spent a lifetime witnessing various tarts pant after her brothers and she's never learned to tolerate it. Honestly, was a little attempt at mystery too much to expect?

The girl's an actress, according to the caption, but Rebekah's never heard of her. Perhaps she's trying to make use of a casting couch, to ensure that her name would no longer be less obscure.

Or maybe she just liked Nik. It happened occasionally, when he managed to keep a lid on his more irritating characteristics. A struggle for him, Rebekah knew, and perhaps why women never lasted long.

Caroline leans over, and she scoffs, when she sees what Rebekah's looking at, "My boobs are totally better," she mumbles mournfully.

"I'd be happy to confirm that for you," Kol interjects, leaning over the counter with a playful leer.

Caroline doesn't even fine him, doesn't even throw a dirty look Kol's way.

She looks like she might be considering it, from the contemplative look of her, her hands dropping to finger the hem of her shirt, and it wouldn't be the first time Rebekah's seen her do something ill-advised, that involved taking off her clothes, while under the influence of tequila.

They'd been careful to burn and bury all the evidence of their spring break trips. And though Rebekah's memories are fuzzy, she remembers enough to know that their adventures weren't often suitable for all audiences.

This particular instance is possibly the first time Rebekah was entirely sober, however, and therefore obligated to nip such a terrible idea in the bud.

Adult responsibility, so tedious.

Drunken Caroline has roughly the attention span of a small child on a sugar high, so it's easy enough to redirect her.

Luckily, Enzo chooses that moment to reenter the kitchen. It might be the first time Rebekah's been glad to see him, in their entire acquaintance. Caroline swivels on her stool, the sight of him evidently reminding her of more pressing matters. "Tacos?" she asks. "Might as well stop caring about calories. Since I'm going to die alone. Do we have any ice cream?"

Rebekah rolled her eyes, and hoped the food arrived quickly. That little note of self-pity was a bad sign, a sign that morose drunk Caroline was primed to make an appearance.

Enzo slings an affectionate arm over Caroline's shoulder, and Caroline leans into his side, "Nonsense, gorgeous. You're a catch, and you know it. Why the long face?"

Caroline makes a clumsy grab for Rebekah's phone, "Klaus. Is totally in love with an actress with subpar boobs and they're going to get married and live a glamourous life and have adorable, dimpled children."

Rebekah, too busy fending off Caroline, doesn't notice when Enzo neatly snatches the phone. He studies the screen, his face going hard, "Not possible if I kill him," he says cheerfully.

"You can't kill him," Rebekah scoffs.

"And if you were going to, you really shouldn't have confessed your plans to two of his siblings," Kol adds. Less than helpfully, in Rebekah's opinion.

"S'not his fault, Enzo," Caroline slurs. "I missed my window, and Miss Subpar Boobs swept in. Like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Rebekah spits out. She drains her glass, setting it down on the counter with a thump, "Caroline. Do dial back the dramatics, I beg you. Enzo, stuff whatever plans you're undoubtedly beginning. Nik's my brother, and he might occasionally be a wanker, but I will end you, should you think to meddle. Kol, just shut it."

Kol's mouth falls open, "I didn't…" he begins indignantly.

Rebekah shushes him, holding up her hand, because while he's not said anything terrible just yet she knows Kol, knows that's only likely to be true for a limited amount of time. "Whatever Nik's doing in Los Angeles, business or pleasure, is really none of your concern, Caroline. You've hemmed and hawed for months. And while I understand why, it doesn't change the fact that you've no claim on him, no right to be angry."

"Not angry," Caroline mutters quietly, picking at her cuticles.

"No, you're sad and pathetic, which is even worse."

Caroline looks wounded, and Rebekah feels a momentary pang of regret. But they weren't getting anywhere with coddling, so perhaps a more tough love approach was the way to go.

But she wasn't a completely heartless bitch (with regards to a select number of people) so she spoke more softly, when she continued, "Besides, this is only a couple of pictures. Who knows the story behind them? Nik's not changeable, he sets his mind on something, and it would take an act of God to knock him from the path he's chosen."

Kol nods sagely, "It's true. He's incredibly hardheaded, our brother."

Caroline bites her lip, a small bit of something like optimism clearing the defeated look from her eyes, "I don't want to get my hopes up. I was planning…"

She trails off sheepishly, but Rebekah's curiosity is piqued, "Planning?" she prods. "Don't tell me you'd finally, finally, gotten a flash of insight? Miracle of miracles," she finishes sarcastically.

The look Caroline shoots Rebekah is unimpressed, "Something like that. A very attractive man asked me out yesterday. And I said no, because I didn't want to go out on a date…"

"With someone who wasn't Nik!" Kol finishes loudly. "That's appallingly trite, and I feel like I might vomit."

Kol adds another splash of tequila to his drink, considers the bottle and takes a hearty swig. So Rebekah assumes that it's the sentiment making him nauseous, not the excess of liquor, so they're not in any danger of him actually getting sick. She rather wishes he'd heeded her orders to be quiet, because Caroline's beginning to look embarrassed. And Rebekah can't have that, not at this juncture. She'll not survive, months more of this 'will they, won't they' ridiculousness.

"Nik's back tomorrow," Rebekah tells Caroline briskly, "perhaps it's time for a little bravery, hmm?"

"Still think I should rough him up a little first," Enzo grumbles.

"No," Rebekah says firmly. Because she'll not have him, or anyone, throwing a wrench into things, now that they're finally moving.

He looks like he's about to say more, and if there's one thing Rebekah knows about Enzo, it's that he doesn't know when to shut up. So she levels him with a look, the one that makes interns go scurrying for cover, and her brother's flinch. He doesn't cower, merely lifts an eyebrow, a smirk crossing his face.

He has the nerve to laugh, once her glare intensifies.

Rebekah grits her teeth, and hopes Kol is sober enough to remember the margarita recipe. She's certain she'll need more, preferably with the good liquor she'd brought, to endure her present company.