Notes: This is the second part of a DOUBLE update! So click back, if you missed the last chapter. I thought it'd be a bit cruel, to leave you all hanging after that one.

FEBRUARY – SUNDAY

KLAUS:

Klaus had been a few minutes late, to meet Caroline, his flight's takeoff having been delayed, and heavy traffic between the airport and his apartment setting him back further. So he'd been almost relieved, when he'd arrived at the restaurant, and found that she hadn't made it there, the apologies he's formulated not necessary.

He'd taken a seat, ordered a beer, kept an eye on the door. Looked forward to teasing her, about her uncharacteristic lateness. He enjoyed the haughtiness, the way her eyes brightened and snapped, when he poked at her attempts at striving for perfection. She can laugh at herself, these days, and usually ends up amused, rather than angry.

Which is Klaus' goal, because he always feels good, accomplished even, when he can make her laugh, loudly and unselfconsciously.

But ten minutes passed, then ten more, making Caroline more than a half an hour late. He'd checked his phone, found no missed calls or messages.

And a little bit of worry, a tinge of fear, had begun to nag at him.

He'd paid for his drink, left and gotten into a cab, given the driver Caroline and Kol's address. Klaus might also have implied that a hefty tip was possible, if the driver were to interpret traffic laws, and basic road courtesies, lightly.

It had been a bit of a nerve wracking ride, but they did make good time. Klaus had spent the duration of the journey trying to contact Caroline on his phone, with no success. Kol's had gone straight to voicemail, and texts unanswered, when Klaus had attempted to reach him.

Surely someone would have let Klaus know, if something had happened, to either Caroline or Kol? Or so he repeats, over and over, forcing himself to remain calm.

Klaus' eyes are glued to the numbers above the elevator door, during its ascent. He curses the slowness of the journey. Aloud, when he's alone. In his head, with more inventive language, once he's joined by other people, his teeth clenched tightly together. He exits immediately, once he reaches the correct floor, walks quickly down the hallway. Rings the doorbell, and shifts anxiously, straining to hear anything from inside the apartment.

It's completely silent, no movement on the other side of the door. Klaus rings the bell again, and knocks insistently.

It takes several minutes, before he gets any reaction. And then the door is violently thrown open, an irate Kol the sight that greets Klaus. His brother's pale, eyes red rimmed, and hair flattened about his head. He's wearing a bathrobe, and leans heavily against the wall. "What could you possibly need this early, Niklaus?" he grits out. "Can't a man suffer in peace?"

Brushing past Kol, Klaus looks around, for any sign of Caroline, "It's nearly two PM, Kol. Hardly early. I thought you were more adept at holding your liquor."

"I am obviously out of practice," Kol mutters snidely, "and I was sleeping, before I was so rudely awoken. So I repeat, what do you need? Make it quick, because whatever it is I likely will not be able to bring myself to care."

"Where's Caroline?" Klaus asks.

Kol groans, flopping down on the couch, "Of course, this is about Caroline. Does this mean that the tempting little brunette number in the pictures didn't turn your head after all? Can't say I'm surprised," he then mumbles something too low for Klaus to catch, slumping down into the cushions.

Klaus has no idea who, or what Kol's referring to. "What pictures? What brunette?"

"The brunette in the pictures," Kol repeats, as if that's supposed to make things clearer. "From the club you were at on Friday. They were posted online."

Klaus had been out with a number of people on Friday, so that really didn't help him, but he decides that, in his current state, Kol's ability to be helpful is rather more limited then it usually is. So he returns to the reason he'd rushed over, "Is Caroline here?"

"Face down in the bathroom, last I saw her," Kol tells him, seemingly unconcerned.

Which means that Caroline's likely in a similar state. Terrifically hungover, but not in the slightest bit of danger. Klaus' worry melts, but his irritation grows.

He heads in the direction of the bathroom. The door's ajar, but it's empty. He taps on the door to Caroline's room, gets a pained, throaty groan in response. Klaus takes that as a, 'Yes, please do come in,' because he thinks he's allowed a little presumptuousness, after being stood up.

"Don't open, dead inside," Caroline croaks.

She's face down on her bed, a tangled mass of covers pushed down over her legs. There's half full bottle of water, on her bedside table, and Klaus picks it up when he sits, "You should probably drink this," he tells her, holding it near her hand.

She lets out another pitiful sound, what Klaus can see of her face creasing in pain, "Shh," she tells him, "not so loud."

He fights the little pang of pity, tamps it down with ruthless efficiency, forcing himself to remember the creeping feeling of dread he'd only just got over.

Her legs move, struggling to get out of the blankets, and she flips onto her side, with a great deal of effort. She pushes her hair, a mass of knotted curls off of her face, her eyes widening when she registers his presence, "Klaus. Crap. What time is it?"

Klaus makes a show of taking out his phone, "1:53," he tells her pointedly, knowing his face is stony.

Caroline's eyes close, guilt scrolling clear across her features, "I am so, so sorry," she tells him, before pushing herself up into a sitting position. "I swear I set an alarm, but it's entirely possible that I was too drunk to do it properly."

Klaus remains silent, pushes the water into her hands, as he get off the bed. He's about to leave, but Caroline grabs his arm, her grip firm and unyielding. "Seriously, I feel terrible. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll be ready to go. You can pick anywhere you want, my treat."

She smiles at him, clearly hopeful, her eyes beseeching. Klaus finds himself softening, but only slightly, his previous worry, his certainty that something had to be wrong, for Caroline to forget about him, preventing him from letting her off the hook entirely, "Maybe some other time," he replies, gently shaking his arm, to encourage her to let go.

She doesn't let go, grips tighter, if anything, tugging him closer, while she takes a deep breath, "How about dinner?" she asks, the slightest waver to the question. "And not as friends. If you want. Still want, I mean. I totally understand if you don't. If Miss Subp…" Caroline freezes, presses her lips together firmly, and shakes her head. "I'm sure she has an actual name," she mutters, more to herself then to him.

Klaus takes a step closer, looks at her intently. Her words aren't slurred, and she seems alert, but he's growing more and more confused. It's not as though it's the first time a woman's asked him out, though it's usually not quite so stumbling. Or surprising. "Are you still drunk, love? You're not making much sense."

"I wish," Caroline says, softly but with great feeling, picking at the blanket stretched across her lap. She looks back up at him, squeezes his arm, "Sorry. Again. I am clearly making a mess of this, but I feel like that's pretty par for the course, with us."

"Us?" Klaus parrots, still mystified. And somewhat afraid, that he's reading this situation wrong.

Caroline rolls her eyes, a wry grin twisting her lips, "Yeah, us. You and me, my willful denial, your ridiculous patience with it." She ducks her head, hair obscuring her face. "I get that I might be too late, but I figured it was my turn to put myself out there."

It's rather hard for Klaus not to grin, at the fact that it seems like Caroline's not entirely set upon friendship. The tiny, tentative steps forward she'd made had ceased, awhile back, and Klaus had nearly resigned himself to never moving forward, though he'd somewhat regretted placing the ball so firmly in her court.

He'd thought it prudent, at the time, had been sure that she'd manage to lob it back, once she worked through her complicated feelings, that little tinge of mistrust that held her back.

He's thrilled that he'd been wrong.

Klaus sits, waits for Caroline to look at him, "You're not too late," he tells her simply.

He's tried, a few times, to put Caroline out of his head. Tried to flirt, with women who looked nothing like her, in hopes that something would spark. He'd not had much optimism that is would be something grand, but something small. An interest, something to draw his attention, at least for a while.

It hadn't worked, and perhaps he could've tried harder. But, it seems as though it's fortunate that he did not.

Caroline's self-deprecating expression falls, a real smile lighting up her face, "I'm glad," she murmurs, her hand sliding down his arm gently. She moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, winces when her fingers snag in a wild curl. Her eyes widen, becoming horrified, "Oh god, I must look horrible. I can't believe this is the time I picked to ask you out. My timing is stellar, as per usual."

The last bit's muffled, as she's thrown herself down, her empty water bottle slipping from her fingers, as she attempts to wrestle her blankets over her head.

Unfortunately for her, Klaus is sitting on the edge of them, so her attempts to hide are unsuccessful. After straining her arms, for several moments she relaxes, and heaves a sigh before asking, "Please stop looking at me."

Klaus shakes his head, in an immediate denial of her request, eyes trained on her face, "Afraid I can't, sweetheart. We've a date to plan, do we not? Besides, I seem to remember surviving the sight of you, when you were sick, just fine."

Caroline throws an arm over her face, "Ugh, don't remind me. Pretty sure Cosmo says you're supposed to wait until a guy's invested, before letting him see you at your worst."

He can't believe that she'd think he's not, at this point, but Klaus thinks it best to keep things light.

"Perhaps," he drawls, "but it's not as though I've ever read the publication, so I'll forgive you for not taking their every bit of advice. Although, that's the one with all the interesting little sex tips, is it not? If you'd like to experiment, Caroline, far be it for me…" Klaus' sentence is cut off, when Caroline whips a pillow at his head. He has to dodge, and he laughs, blocking a second attempt. "Pillow fights? Was that something your naughty magazine recommended? Some odd sort of foreplay?"

"Oh my god," Caroline groans, a distinct hint of pink visible high on her cheeks, which she promptly covers with her hands. "Just stop. Seriously."

Klaus leans over, and takes her hands, pulling them down. Caroline glares up at him, but there's little heat to it, "Don't make me regret asking you out Klaus," she warns him playfully.

As if he'd risk it.

Klaus takes one of her hands, brushes his lips over her knuckles, and feels the faint twitch of her fingers, under the caress. Caroline bites her lip, lashes lowering and he watches the blush on her face deepen, as she observes him intently, "I promise you will not," he tells her firmly.

It's the opportunity Klaus has been waiting for, for months. Years, even, if he's being totally honest. And it's not one he's willing to waste.