Pairing: Klaus/Marcel (M/M) cane
"Any customer can have a car painted any color that he wants so long as it is black."
― Henry Ford
Mikaelson Compound
New Orleans, Louisiana, 1913
"Marcellus, there is no reason to buy one of those motorcars," Klaus repeated. There were in Klaus' study and Marcel was supposed to be helping him go through some business ledgers.
"But Papa, you said I could get a Model T years ago! I have the money. It would be nice for us to take long drives out in the country," Marcel argued.
"Hmm, I'm sure you and Rebekah would like that. But right now, we need not draw attention to ourselves and I'm not sure I trust either one of you to be motoring around all over the city. I am sorry, Son. The answer is no," Klaus said going back to his paperwork.
Marcel grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Son, you are supposed to be helping me. If you can't do that, then you can leave. We don't have time for this nonsense. You know, this city does not run itself. Do you understand me?" Klaus asked sternly.
"Yes, Papa," Marcel intoned, though he did not see why he could not have a motorcar.
"Fine, now could you please start checking through the records from 1912 in May first?..." Klaus said handing him a stack of files.
"What are you so happy about, dearest Sister?" Kol asked straightening his suspenders as he walked out on the balcony.
"Well, it's a lovely day. Do I need a reason to be pleased?" Rebekah asked taking a sip of blood from her dainty tea cup.
"You? Yes, you absolutely do, Darling. Now spill it. It's a rather dull day out here. Nothing happening, no one to eat," Kol moaned.
"Okay, but it's a secret! Marcel bought a motorcar for us. One of those Model-Ts. We can leave this stuffy compound and have some real fun. Perhaps if you are nicer to Marcel, you can come with us?" Rebekah offered.
"I am nice to Marcellus! He's just such a 'Papa's boy', 'Papa said that, Papa said this." Does he ever have an original thought?" Kol exclaimed.
"You are filled with envy, Brother dear. Any how, the motor car shall be delivered tomorrow so don't say anything. Remember you promised!" Rebekah added.
"Ah, I do not recall promising anything, Bex, but as the loyal and handsome brother around here, I shall obey. I cannot believe Nik is allowing this. He thinks motorcars are showy and dangerous, but I guess if the spoiled 'Little Warrior' wants something, Papa will provide it," Kol said lighting a cigar.
"Kol, it's bloodly 1913 already. Times change. Just because we are as old as dirt doesn't mean we can't be modern," Rebekah lectured.
"Were you saying something, Rebekah? I drifted off when you started droning on about change," Kol smirked trying to irritate her.
Rebekah looked around for something to throw at him, but came up short.
Elijah came out, "What are you two up to?"
"Bex was just lecturing me on the modern world. It is so fascinating that I am falling asleep," Kol quipped.
"Well, I wanted to let you know that I've engaged a portrait painted to come to the house tomorrow," Elijah announced.
"Not again!" Kol groaned.
"Kol, we haven't had our portraits done in a hundred years," Rebekah scoffs.
"It is so boring to sit there. The last fellow was so slow that I started to desiccate before he ever finished my damn face!" Kol moaned.
Elijah rolled his eyes, "You will sit for this portrait and not complain. I thought it be a nice thing to display in the entrance way."
"Really, who the hell wants to look at our portraits starting back at them? Can we not just get daguerreotypes taken like normal people? I hate sitting there for so long," Kol whined.
"Daguerreotypes are vulgar and low class. Now, I do not want to hear anymore lip about it. I already paid a down payment, so there is no getting out of it," Elijah said firmly.
"I think it is a lovely idea, Elijah," Rebekah smiled sweetly.
"Thank you, dear," Elijah said leaving them.
"'I think it is a lovely idea', gag! You know it is torture sitting in hot and itchy clothes, completely still for hours on end while some third rate artist butchers us!" Kol groused.
"Oh, you are such a baby. Cook is calling us for lunch. You best put out that blasted cigar," Rebekah warned.
Kol tossed his lit cigar over the balcony onto a passerby's hat on the street below. The man's hat started smoking and Kol began to laugh.
Rebekah smacked him on the arm and he escorted her downstairs for lunch.
"Elijah, I forgot, but I have a Woman's Christian Temperance Union meeting tomorrow morning. I can sit last for the painter, I suppose," Rebekah informed him at lunch.
"That's fine," Elijah said tasting the soup.
"Bex, why are you in such a ridiculous organization?" Kol asked.
"All the ladies are in it. I don't really have a choice. It would look odd if I wasn't. Just like the damn volunteering!" Rebekah said with a hint of irritation.
"Sister, your language is getting a tad salty again. I thought we have had this discussion before," Elijah scolded.
"Elijah, you are not the one who had to constantly go to this boring teas and help out at the poor house all of the time. It gets taxing!" Rebekah complained.
Klaus agreed, "I am sure it does. However, we have to work to keep you in buttons and bows and keep this city afloat. That is not pleasure cruise every day."
"Come to think of it, everyone works around here, except you, Kol! Oh wait, you tell jokes, so that is okay," Marcel cut in.
"Oh Marcellus, you will have your motorcar tomorrow and then you can drive off into the sunset and relax! I'm sure that is a great hardship," Kol retorted.
Klaus stared at Marcel, "Marcel is not getting a motorcar. Isn't that right, Son?"
Marcel stared down at his soup.
Elijah put down his spoon, "Marcellus, you will answer your father right now!"
"Papa, I ordered it a few months ago! I did not think you would be SO pig headed and backward about it. It is arriving tomorrow," Marcel spat out.
Rebekah's eyes got big and Kol cringed.
"It is no problem. You shall send it back and I shall overlook you disobeying me this one time," Klaus said tearing a piece of bread in two.
Marcel's face grew stormy.
"Pass the butter, please," Klaus said to Kol. Kol said quickly. He hadn't meant to start this, but Marcel made him so angry sometimes.
"I will not," Marcel countered glumly.
"We will discuss it later," Klaus said evenly.
"No, I am keeping the motorcar. It is my money and I paid for it," Marcel argued.
"We shall see about that," Klaus retorted hotly now staring at Marcel.
Elijah joined in, "Marcellus, I would ask you to go to your room if you are going to make a scene at the table. Cook made a very nice lunch and I would hate to see it spoiled by one of your temper tantrums."
Rebekah was now shooting daggers at Kol with her eyes.
"I'm sorry I brought it up. Can we just forget it, please? Maybe argue about something else? I would like to argue about the portrait painter who is coming tomorrow," Kol said trying to change the subject.
"That one is quite settled, you will sit for that portrait, even if you have to sit on a sore behind. I will brook no debate," Elijah threatened.
"Yes, yes, I get it. I had an idea. Why doesn't the painter take a photograph and use that photograph to paint from? That way we wouldn't have to sit there all day," Kol suggested.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Rebekah laughed.
"Bex, you are stupid," Kol taunted. Rebekah insulted him back and then began to argue.
"Marcel, eat your lunch. Stop fussing. You are pouting like you did when you were ten and you wanted to ride that stallion!" Klaus smiled.
"I am not a little boy anymore, Papa!" Marcel shouted. Rebekah and Kol stopped fighting and a silence fell over the room.
Klaus put down his utensils with a clang.
"Do not bother. I am going!" Marcel yelled, throwing his napkin down in fury on the table and stalking off.
"You go right to your room, Marcellus!" Klaus growled.
"Niklaus, why can't he have that motorcar?" Rebekah challenged.
"Sweetheart, we need to be trying to blend in as much as possible. Showing off our wealth and doing things differently just draws attention to you in a way we don't need right now. Perhaps we can get a motorcar in a few months, but now is not a good time," Klaus explained.
"That's a silly reason!" Rebekah replied.
"Perhaps I don't trust the two of you not to try to run off again. Did you think of that-," Klaus yelled suddenly.
Rebekah got up and walked away from the table herself.
Klaus tried, "Sister, I didn't mean that, come back."
Elijah stated, "Let them go. I'm not terribly impressed with either of the way they have been behaving today."
"Me, either!" Kol added.
Both Klaus and Elijah looked at him and said, "Kol!"
"I was just jesting, lads. Calm yourselves," Kol grinned. He was happy to not be the one in trouble today. Marcellus was revealing himself for the naughty little brat Kol often thought he was.
Cook came out to bring the next course and looked surprised to see two seats vacant.
"Sorry, Cook. We had two unruly, willful hellions who will be dining in their rooms," Elijah explained.
"Nothing to worry about, Master. I'll have the girl bring them a tray up," Cook said smoothly.
"Thank you. I'm not sure they deserve it, but no one can say we starved them," Klaus grumbled.
"Don't you two have a big meeting this afternoon?" Kol pressed.
"Yes, we do. I don't know if Marcel is in any state to conduct himself as an adult there, but I will give him another chance, I suppose," Klaus stated.
"Brother, if he were my son, I would,-" Elijah began.
"I know very well what you would do, Elijah. He's upset and disappointed. Just let me speak to him, it will take but a moment," Klaus reasoned.
"Master! Mr. Marcellus is not in his room," Cook shouted coming back down with the tray.
Elijah bit his lip and did not say a word.
"Bloody hell, did he jump out of the balcony? For the love of all that is holy...," Klaus thundered stomping upstairs to investigate.
"Where is Marcel?" Rebekah squeaked.
"I was about to ask you the same thing!" Klaus asked.
"Well, go find him, Nik. He probably went to get his motorcar from the chap that sold it to him," Rebekah suggested.
"Give me the address. Kol, you're coming with me. Elijah, can you handle the meeting alone?" Klaus asked.
"Yes, just bring him home safely, Brothers," Elijah replied.
"Kol, this is your damn fault. You big mouthed louse!" Rebekah shouted.
Elijah turned to her, "This is not his fault. You looked peaked, Sister. Now eat the lunch Cook left you and then you are to take a nap."
Klaus and Kol left to go find Marcel.
"Not bloody likely. I should go also. Elijah, he earned the money for that motor car. Why is Nik doing this?" Rebekah bleated.
"Rebekah, was he behaving like he was responsible enough to have his own motor car today? What if takes off in a huff and runs over some innocent human? Come now, I'll sit with you," Elijah said taking her by the elbow into her room.
"I'm not hungry," Rebekah pouted.
"Dear, please, try to calm down. I know you worry, but they will bring him back. Try the beef, it's quite good today. A touch of sage, maybe some thyme. Just like Mother used to grow in her garden, remember?" Elijah recalled.
"Of course, I remember. I had to weed the bloody garden while you boys got to hunt and kill things. Then, I had to skin and gut all the animals," Rebekah imparted.
"Believe me, you were better off with Mother. Father didn't take it well when he missed a shot. He'd slug whomever was closest to him and then kick you when you were down. I wonder where he is now. Niklaus just doesn't want us to draw the wrong kind of attention with motorcars and strange behavior. Do you understand?" Elijah said as she finally began to eat. The beef was excellent today, Rebekah had to admit.
"No, why do we have big parties and live in this house? Why does Nik call himself the King of the city if we are to blend in?" Rebekah pressed.
"Those parties are business. To let the factions know we are firmly in control. Only humans who are aware of our kind are ever invited. Sister, we have been very careful to keep a low view from the general public. Remember how Niklaus compelled all the ticket takers in the city to make sure you and Marcellus didn't leave? Everyone who lives near here is compelled to not notice our house and the activities in and out, like Marcel jumping off a balcony in broad daylight. Speaking of, I know you don't like to hear it, but I think Niklaus needs to spank the daylights out of Marcellus just for that little act alone. It only takes one mistake for the angry mob to realize we aren't human," Elijah finished.
Rebekah nodded sadly, "He just wanted that motor car so much!"
"I know. But we cannot always get what we want, can we?" Elijah asked gently.
"Okay, put on your bed clothes and get in the bed now," Elijah ordered.
Rebekah didn't dare argue and went behind the privacy screen in her room and took off her blouse and skirt. She put her dressing gown over her slip and got into the bed. She was a little tired after all.
"I'm going to put the curtains closed. Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" Elijah asked. Rebekah nodded. Elijah said in the chair by her bed until her heard her snoring softly. He heard the door open downstairs.
Klaus had a firm grip on Marcel's arm and a determined look on his face.
"We got there right as Marcellus wrecked the motorcar. He drove it right into a tree. If he wasn't a vampire, I daresay, he would be dead," Klaus ranted.
"Marcellus, are you alright?" Elijah asked with concern.
"I am now, but I don't know how I'll be in a few minutes," Marcel said sourly.
"Kol, would you like to attend the meeting with me? Perhaps we can go to your favorite club afterwards," Elijah offered.
"Ah sure, Elijah, let's go. Good luck, Marcel," Kol whispered as they left.
"Rebekah is napping, so try to keep it down," Elijah cautioned.
Klaus leaned down and looked at Marcel, he still saw a touch of defiance in his eyes.
"You will go to the kitchen and ask Cook for something to spank you with. You will be responsible for returning it to her afterwards, as she gets quite testy about people misplacing things in the kitchen. I am going to be waiting for you in my bedroom. Now march," Klaus said sending him off with a resounding whack to his bottom.
"Awww!" Marcel gasped clutching his backside quickly.
"Shall I start counting?" Klaus called out.
"No, Papa, please," Marcel said picking up his speed.
Klaus went upstairs and quickly washed up. Marcel came in a few moments later holding a stick that he handed to Klaus.
"What is this now?" Klaus said, he was assuming Cook would provide a wooden spoon or cutting board.
"A stake from the garden, she said it's bamboo," Marcel uttered defeatedly.
"Well, looks like you are getting a little caning then," Klaus determined.
"No, Papa! I didn't mean to wreck the motor car, I swear," Marcel cried.
"Elijah has threatened to cane you all plenty, but I've always intervened. My hand does not seem to be doing the trick anymore, so let us see how you behave after a whipping. Now, go stand in the corner. I am going to get your pajamas. Rebekah is napping. You will spend the rest of the day in bed as well, just the punishment for your malfeasance today. Corner!" Klaus ordered.
Marcel exhaled loudly, Klaus caught him and bent him under his arm. He tapped the cane over his pants and swished it down hard quickly five times. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. The stick was light but had a whistling sound as it came down.
Marcel hopped and tried to move, but Klaus had him locked into place.
"No more attitude, little warrior. Do you understand me?" Klaus asked sternly.
Marcel wept, "Yes, Papa. No more!" He wanted to rub the stripes of fire but Marcel couldn't reach. Klaus tapped the cane over the seat of his pants and and caned him one more time. Swish!
"What are you going to do when I let you go?" Klaus questioned.
"Go stand in the corner," Marcel repeated.
"Think about why you are going to get a very hard spanking today," Klaus said tapping his behind again. He gave him another hard whack.
Swish!
Marcel was crying and shifting from foot to foot.
Klaus turned him to look him in the face, "No rubbing or that is a bedtime spanking tonight, young man. You feel that sting in your bottom and know that you brought this on yourself."
"Yes, Papa," Marcel wailed.
Klaus turned him in the direction of the corner. Marcel stiffly walked over and put his hands on his head.
Klaus went in Marcel's bedroom and choose a soft pair of pajama for Marcel that consisted of striped cotton pants and a button down shirt. They were embroidered with two M's for Marcel Mikaelson. Elijah had had them made for Marcel at Christmas.
Marcel heard himself crying pitifully in the corner. His backside stung from the impromptu licking, he already got, but he was upset at how his day went. If his Papa just let him have his motor car, he would have never wrecked it. It was not his fault at all. Marcel was so angry, he stomped his foot and then kicked it again the wall.
"Are we having another temper tantrum? What happens to children who throw fits in this house?" Klaus asked putting the pajamas on the bed after shutting the door.
Marcel stomped again and a deep growling sound came from his throat.
Klaus vamped to the corner and undid Marcel's trousers. He pulled them to Marcel's knees.
"Papa! Please, do not," Marcel begged.
"What happens to naughty brats in this house, young man?" Klaus demanded.
Crack! Crack! Klaus palm swatted Marcel's thighs hard.
"They get a ...spanking! But Papa, it's not my fault," Marcel pleaded.
"We shall talk about in a moment, Marcellus," Klaus replied.
Klaus left him in the corner with his pants around his knees as he dragged a hard backed armless wooden chair in the middle of the floor.
Klaus grabbed the cane and set it on the bed. He sat down in the chair.
"Come here, Son. I think it is time for a long overdue spanking," Klaus said. He wanted to make it very clear to Marcel that he had been acting childishly and would get treated accordingly.
Marcel flushed and shuffled over the best that he could with his pants down.
"Take off your shoes. Then, you are going over my knee," Klaus instructed. Klaus waited until Marcel did it.
"Papa...," Marcel tried desperately one last time.
"You jumped out the balcony of your room and then wrecked the bloody motor car that I forbade you from having! Tell me why I ought to not thrash you?" Klaus demanded.
"Because I am s-sorry," Marcel sobbed.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice the motor car tomorrow? What was your plan? Just whine and beg until I gave into you? Hmm...Do tell," Klaus asked.
"I thought it would be a n-nice surprise!" Marcel blubbered.
At this, Klaus laughed aloud.
"I am sorry, my son, my clever, handsome, strong boy who shall one day be King of New Orleans, but you never give up, do you? And I love you for it, but I need to punish you for your foolishness. It is going to hurt me to do this, but you brought this on yourself. Enough talk," Klaus said tapping him on the thigh.
"Wait, these are coming down, too," Klaus said yanking down his drawers to meet his trousers at his knees. Marcel whined and tried to stop his father baring him with his right hand. Klaus smacked it lightly and gave him a stern look. Marcel moved his hand and brought it to his face to wipe away a tear.
Klaus steered Marcel right over his knees so his hands were on the floor. Marcel felt ridiculous and silly in this position, he couldn't move his hands or his face would be on the floor. He stared at the hard wood floor and noticed an ant walking across carrying something. What he wouldn't do to trade places with that ant! Marcel felt his father flip his white dress shirt up in the back further baring his bottom fully.
"You know when you are sent to your room, you are to stay there until your Uncle or I come to speak to you. Son, I wasn't even going to give you a hiding, I just wanted you to think a moment so we could discuss it. Imagine how I felt when Cook said you absconded," Klaus said resting his right hand on his backside. Smack! Smack! Smack!
Klaus gave him three firm swats across both cheeks that had Marcel squirming already.
"Papa!" he gasped.
Crackcrackcrackcrackcrackcrackcrack
Klaus then descended into a series of whacks from cheek and cheek for the next two minutes. He made sure Marcel's backside was getting to be a rosy color before he paused. Klaus had lightening the smacks and slowed them hoping his son was considering the error of his ways a little more than merely concentrating on the sting.
"How could you have avoided this little trip over my knee, Son?" Klaus asked rubbing his sore seat a moment.
"I should have have never ordered the motor car in secret! I'm s-s-sorry, Papa," Marcel said sincerely.
"Marcellus, you will have one someday, when the time is better. I promise you that," Klaus said sadly.
Whack!
Whack!
Whack!
Whack!
Whack!
"I need you to trust me," Klaus said swatting him much harder.
Marcel's control broke and tried to kick himself free. His trousers hindered his ability to kick too much as his pants were bunched at his knees.
"None of that," Klaus said raising his left left on the railing of the chair to began to swat Marcel's sit spots. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
"Noooo, noooo," Marcel wept unable to speak clearly.
Klaus kept spanking his wayward son until the palm of his hand was numb and he thought he heard some true repentance in the sound of his cries.
Marcel's head was swimming, his tears were forming puddles under his head. Marcel's legs failed to help him push off Klaus' lap, so he regressed to tapping his feet against the floor as he wailed as much as his pants would allow. Klaus was waiting a few seconds between each of these harder blows, which landed in random spots. Marcel felt the burning pain evenly over his whole backside and sometimes the top of his thighs when he tried to thrash too wildly.
"Pleaseeee," Marcel begged. Klaus' heard his voice catch and he ran his hand over the hot surface of his son's reddened skin. But they were not finished yet.
"We would be finished now, if you had simply disobeyed me and ran away, wouldn't we? But no, you did something else, didn't you? Yes, you jumped in the motor car to drive it and were in such a snit that you wrecked it. Kol had to compel those people to forget they saw you. Very dangerous and very immature. That's why I'm going to have to give you a whipping. You know Papa doesn't like to even have to spank you, but then I realized that you would get in a great deal more trouble if I didn't chastise you from time to time, hmm," Klaus shared. He didn't know if Marcel was listening, but he wanted to give him a moment for his bottom to heal slightly before applying a dose of the cane.
"NO! Don't whip me, pleaseeee," Marcel almost screamed. Klaus popped him hard on his bare behind. Crack!
"Stop fussing! Hop up, Son. Almost done," Klaus said helping him up. Marcel's pants were now at his ankles. Klaus had him step out of his trousers and drawers.
Marcel's hands went to his face to wipe it. Klaus gave him a linen handkerchief. He hated to see his son look so miserable, but if was human, he would be dead right now from his little stunt with the motor car.
"Over the bed," Klaus said after stacking some pillows on the bed for Marcel to bed over.
Marcel leaned over and rested on his forearms. He felt Klaus tap the stick across his already throbbing behind and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Ready?" Klaus asked tapping harder.
"How many, Papa?" Marcel blurted.
"Until you learn your lesson," Klaus proclaimed.
tap tap WHACK!
Marcel heard the cursed whistling sound before he felt the lash. Despite biting his lip, he heard himself grunt.
tap tap WHACK!
"Ah!" Marcel gasped. He clasped his hands under his head. He was afraid if he reached back, he'd get another spanking before he went to bed. They were never that hard, but nothing was worse to him, then a whole day of dreading another punishment.
tap tap Whack!
"AHHHH!" Marcel gritted his teeth as tears dripped down his face.
"A few more, Son," Klaus said softly.
"Papa, forgive my insolence...," Marcel groaned he stomped his left foot and then his right.
"I already have, Marcellus," Klaus said.
tap tap whack. tap tap whack. tap tap whack. tap tap whack.
Klaus gave him four more licks in rapid succession a little lower on the top of his thighs. He wasn't swinging enough to leave welts or marks, but just enough so Marcel would feel it.
Klaus heard Marcel dissolve in fresh tears and was done. Klaus wanted to snap the stick in half, but then he recalled that he was going to have Marcel return it to Cook later. He hoped he would never have to do this again, especially with this stick.
Klaus felt for any welts and didn't feel any. Marcel should heal by tonight, but he was quite red.
"Let Papa help you dress for bed. You are taking a nap. Maybe if you behave, you can join us for supper," Klaus said getting Marcel's pajamas.
"Thank you, Papa," the chastened vampire answered.
Klaus got Marcel in his pajama pants and shirt.
"Better, my son? You know you scared me when I saw you in that thing crashing. Marcellus, if anything should happen to you...," Klaus quavered.
Marcel let Klaus pull him into his lap, "I'm sorry, Papa. I wasn't thinking straight."
"You know I love you more than anything. Someday, you may have a child and realize how hard this is, but I will do anything to keep you safe. Do you understand?" Klaus said pulling Marcel close to him.
Marcel nodded and he rubbed his backside with one hand.
"Still stings?" Klaus asked.
"That stick sure did," Marcel smiled a little.
"I should have given you more. You know I never wanted this immortal life for you. I thought you could be human and rule this city in your thirties, but you wouldn't be here with me now, would you? You were right to want to turn vampire. Maybe you are right to want a motor car? But son, going off like that, is not the way to get what you want. Patience is a virtue," Klaus quipped.
"Do I have to really nap now, Papa?" Marcel asked.
"You know you always get sleepy after a spanking. If I don't put you to bed now, you act up and end up getting another one and then going to bed early anyway. Tell me I am wrong, my son," Klaus said getting up and folding down his bed coverings.
Marcel chuckled as Klaus was right. He was a little wiped out, but he didn't want to stay in his room all day. Klaus let him get in on his stomach and tucked him in.
"I'll wake you up in an hour or two. Then, your punishment will be over," Klaus promised.
"Thank you, Papa. Will you stay?" Marcel asked quietly.
"Of course," Klaus said sitting on the side of the bed. He patted his back and smoothed back his son's hair.
Klaus quietly kissed him on the head, and then moved the chair back to the wall. He grabbed the makeshift cane and walked it down to the kitchen. Klaus thought he would spare Marcel that ordeal.
"Thank you, Cook, as always, you know best," Klaus smiled handing the hefty woman the stick.
"Thank you, master. He's a good boy, but a touch of the stick never did no one no harm," Cook replied taking the stick and leaning it against the wall. The other servants were bustling around the kitchen. Klaus could smell the lye soap from the laundry being washed in the next room.
"Well, ah, see you for supper. I will not keep you," Klaus ended.
Klaus walked out to find Elijah and Kol coming back.
"I thought you two were going out after the meeting," Klaus asked.
"Elijah offered. I didn't really feel like it. Nik, you weren't too hard on Marcellus were you?" Kol asked.
Klaus looked at Elijah in confusion wondering since when did Kol care about Marcel so much?
"Yes, I took a cane to him actually. Why, Brother, you usually think he doesn't get punished enough," Klaus replied.
Kol paused, "Bex probably isn't speaking to me, I didn't mean to say anything today about the motor car. It just slipped out."
"Kol, I would have found out tomorrow when the bloody thing showed up here. And I couldn't have gotten Marcel out of that wreck today without your help compelling that lot. So, how was the meeting? Any progress? Kol did you pay attention?" Klaus asked.
"He seemed to, except when that pretty maid came in, then he was smitten," Elijah said smiling and putting his arm around Kol.
"I can listen and admire the goods at the same time," Kol said.
Rebekah came down the stairs, "Marcel is alright?"
Klaus said, "Yes, let him rest a while. You'll see him at dinner."
Elijah and Klaus went into the study to talk business.
"What?" Rebekah said.
"You're not angry with me? You are pretty much always angry with me, so if you are not, why not?" Kol asked.
"I shall not be only if you tell me what I missed. Did he really crash that silly motor car?" Rebekah cringed.
"Sister, it was like...I have never seen it's like in 900 years. I wonder if anyone ever thought to provide the motorist with some driving instruction before they get in the bloody car," Kol suggested.
"Another silly idea, Kol. I don't really think it is that hard to steer, I mean, stop, go, what else would you do," Rebekah scoffed.
"I suppose you are always right, little Sister. So after the crash, I had to compel like the entire...," Kol started to regale her with the aftermath of Marcel's outburst.
By the time the portrait painter came the next day, everything was back to normal. Kol was still whining about having to sit for the portrait. Marcel was healed and hoping no one brought up the incident.
Rebekah was laughing at all the stupid ideas Kol always had. She really didn't know where he got some of them from.