Notes: Annoyingly, my New Year started with me glued to my couch, with a persistent cold. People on Tumblr were kind enough to send me drabble prompts, to entertain me. And that's where these come from. Enjoy, and comments are always appreciated!

No Distance

(Prompt from klarolineforevermine: klaroline + "We knew each other when we were like 5 years old because our moms are friends and we haven't seen each other since but now your family is moving back and you're a lot hotter than you were when you were a little kid" AU :) Title from 'The New Year' by Death Cab For Cutie. Smut).

When her buzzer rings Caroline, just for a second, seriously considers not answering it. A last minute obligation houseguest, foisted upon her by her mother, was kind of cramping her New Year's style.

Which was selecting a reasonably cute acquaintance from tonight's party to go home with, assuming one expressed an interest. As a cleanse, of sorts. Because Caroline really needed it.

It was like she was cursed, in the romantic department, lately.

Her last relationship had ended over the summer, and getting back on the horse hadn't been easy. Caroline had been on a string of dates, verging from bad to horrific, and none of them had resulted in a second. It's been more than six months since she'd had sex with something that wasn't rechargeable. She figured a no strings attached one off was the way to go. Break the cycle, break the pattern, and she'd hopefully be able to find someone she could stand for more than one dinner.

That had been the plan.

If only she hadn't answered her mother's call that afternoon.

Where Liz Forbes had asked her daughter for a favor.

Caroline had kind of tuned out the explanation for why Klaus Mikaelson was stranded in Chicago, sensing right away that her mom had been working up to something in relaying the sob story. Something about a missed connection, and overbooking, and how it was a holiday, so any and all decent hotel rooms were completely booked. 'But your new apartment's a two bedroom, isn't it, dear?' Liz had finished sweetly.

It was, and her mom totally knew it, having been the first occupant of said guest room, over Thanksgiving weekend last month.

And now Caroline's second ever guest was at the door, some guy she didn't even know. Their mom's went way back, had been roommates in college, and had kept in touch. Caroline vaguely remembers Esther Mikaelson as being aloof and intimidatingly glamourous, to her five year old self. She'd had a baby girl on her hip, had been constantly after another toddler, a boy with messy brown hair and a knack for slipping away.

Caroline remembers having been left to play with Klaus, who'd been just a year or so older than she, while the two older boys occupied themselves.

She can't quite picture what he'd looked like, after all this time, but she distinctly remembers how he'd laughed uproariously at her indignant shrieking, after he'd hidden frogs in her rain boots.

Many frogs. Jumpy, slimy, icky frogs.

And fine, he'd likely matured since then. But was it any wonder Caroline wasn't filled with joy at the thought of him in her home?

She'd bet that boys who put frogs in girl's rain boots totally grew up to be creeps who snooped in lingerie drawers.

The buzzer sounds again, and Caroline sighs, and goes over to the intercom panel, "Yes?" she asks.

"Caroline?" a crackly, accented, voice sounds through the small speaker. "It's Klaus Mikaelson. I believe you were expecting me?"

"Come on up," Caroline replies, trying not to sound unwelcoming. Probably failing, but whatever. At least she was letting him in.

She presses the button, to allow him in through the lobby door, and takes a quick glance around her apartment. Everything's in place, not that she expected differently, and a few minutes later there's a soft knocking at her door.

She pastes on a smile, and throws it open. Her smile fades, when she sees the man on the other side. It's possible she gapes a little.

Because Klaus Mikaelson is really freaking attractive.

His hair's dark blonde, curling softly, and just the right amount of stubble graces a firm jaw. He's pink cheeked from the cold, wearing a well-fitting navy pea coat that does really great things for his blue eyes.

His lips curl into a smirk, and that snaps her out of her stupor. But not before a brief, hot, image of biting down on the lower one flashes through Caroline's mind.

And yeah, it really had been way too long since she'd had sex, if fantasies were that close to the surface.

"Hi! Sorry, come in," she gestures for Klaus to enter, smiling brightly, hoping to gloss over the leering she'd done. "I'm Caroline. It's been a really long time!"

"More than twenty years," he murmurs, entering and pulling a suitcase in behind them. "You've grown up to be incredibly beautiful," he continues, his eyes admiring.

Caroline feels her face heat, and she stutters a thank you, and offers to take his coat.

He grins at her, "You're very welcome, love. Thank you for allowing me into your home, on such short notice. I did not relish the idea of camping out at the airport."

Charming, polite and super-hot? She can't believe her mom has never thought to mention this guy to Caroline before.

His arrival is certainly not the total night ruiner Caroline had been dreading.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, after stowing his outerwear. "I made lasagna, since ordering in is a nightmare tonight, and I was planning on going to a party. You're welcome to come with, if you'd like? I'm sure my friend Bonnie won't mind."

"Lasagna is fine. And I'd love to accompany you this evening, Caroline, if you're sure I won't be intruding?"

"Nah," Caroline assures him. "Bonnie just moved in with her boyfriend so it'll be a weird mix of her friends and his friends. You'll slot right in."

He nods in acceptance, and Caroline tips her head in the direction of the bedrooms, "I'll show you where you can put your stuff. I'm going to grab a quick shower, and the food should be ready when I get out. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Don't feel like you need to entertain me, sweetheart."

She honestly wouldn't mind, because the ideas she has, about entertaining him, are decidedly dirty, and would be just as fun for her as they would be for him, Caroline knows.

She turns at the door to the guestroom, just in time to catch his eyes darting upwards. Caroline raises an eyebrow but he doesn't seem the least bit ashamed to have been caught checking her out. He reaches past her, his fingertips skimming her hip, before he grasps the doorknob, and his body presses into hers, just for a moment, when he pushes the door open.

She kind of wishes he'd just pinned her to it.

It's been a hell of a dry spell, after all, and he smells really good.

But Klaus slips past her, drops his bag next to the bed. Caroline lingers in the doorway, watching him sit on the mattress, and lean back on his hands, "I'll see you in a bit," she tells him, knowing she has to retreat.

"I look forward to it," Klaus murmurs, as she exits.

The hair flip and extra sway to her hips as she leaves the room are totally necessary.

"Where did you find that one?" Bonnie asks, sotto voce by the drinks table, eyes on Klaus and Enzo who seem to be talking amiably across the room.

"He literally just showed up at my door," Caroline tells her. She laughs when Bonnie raises her eyebrows skeptically. "Seriously! My mom knows his mom and he got stuck here. He apparently doesn't know anyone in this city so my mom begged me to let him crash. Figured he probably wasn't a serial killer, if she was vouching for him."

"So your mom hand delivered you a hot guy as a New Year's date? Nice."

Caroline rolls her eyes, and hip checks Bonnie lightly, "It's not a date. I wasn't just going to leave him in my apartment, Bon. That'd have been rude."

"Please. I saw his face when you took off your coat. That is a date dress, Caroline Forbes."

Caroline can't deny it. She might have changed her wardrobe plans last minute. The little black dress she's wearing is maybe a little much for a casual party at a friend's place, is definitely shorter and sleeker then the one she'd originally picked out.

And yes, it was for Klaus' benefit. He'd flirted, and been ridiculously charming, over dinner. He'd offered to help with dishes, and stood a little too close, so she could feel the heat of him through the thin t-shirt she'd been wearing.

She'd had to do something to level the playing field.

"It's not a date," Caroline insists. "He doesn't even live here."

"Where does he live?"

Caroline thinks about it, realizes she hasn't the faintest idea. "No clue. Further evidence that this isn't a date. If I were dating the guy, I'd know where he lived, wouldn't I?"

"Ooh, someone is protesting awfully hard," Bonnie teases.

"Shut up," Caroline grumbles. But Klaus looks up, catches her eye, and she finds herself smiling at him. He says something to Enzo, and begins making his way across the room.

"I will bet you twenty bucks he has his tongue in your mouth at midnight," Bonnie whispers, as Klaus nears.

Caroline doesn't reply. She's not one to take a losing bet.

She feels someone next to her, when the countdown starts, an arm pressing against hers, when people shout 'Ten!' Doesn't even need to look to know it's Klaus.

Caroline ducks her head, lets her hair hide her face, allows herself a quick, giddy grin.

At 'Five!' he tucks her hair behind her ear, running his fingertip along the shell, until she looks up and catches his eyes. His hand slides behind her neck, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, a question in the way he's looking at her.

Caroline takes a step forward, rests her hands lightly on his chest, tips her head to the side, as he leans in.

Hopes that's enough of an answer.

His lips brush hers, at 'One!' and Caroline barely hears the chorus of 'Happy New Years!' that ring out around them, because she surges forward, taking the gentle, tentative start of a kiss somewhere new.

And Klaus doesn't mind following her, opening his mouth wider at her onslaught, a tiny moan rumbling through him as she nibbles on his lip, just like in her fantasies. His hands wander down her back, as their mouths meet frantically, pressing her closer, tracing any bare skin he finds greedily.

She pulls back when she needs to breathe, but stays close, resting her forehead against his for a moment, feeling unsteady on her feet. When she opens her eyes he's staring back at her, eyes burning and wanting. Caroline rasps out, "My place?" before she even thinks about it.

She can't remember the last time she felt like this, the last time her skin prickled with need, and all she could think about was a specific pair of hands on it.

He kisses her again, buries his hand in her hair and tips her head where he wants it, tongue teasing hers until she's got her hands fisted in his shirt, only the fact that they're technically in public stopping her from siding her hands under it.

"You're place," Klaus agrees quietly, when he's thoroughly muddled her brain.

Caroline doesn't even notice the smug, knowing expression on Bonnie's face as they scramble out of the apartment, coats only half on.

They never bother to do them up entirely, hands wandering in the back of the cab, to the driver's very vocal disgust and displeasure.

Caroline can't bring herself to listen to his complaints, not when Klaus' lips are finding the sensitive spots on her neck, when Klaus' fingers are dipping just under the hem of her skirt, brushing tauntingly against her inner thighs.

They come to a stop in front of her building and Klaus hands cash to the driver, while she's still fumbling with her purse, climbing out and offering her a hand to help her out.

The cab peels away, as soon as they're out, and Klaus wraps an arm around her back, tugging her towards the front door. Caroline gropes for her keys, as he steps behind her, and the scrape of his stubble on her shoulder, is really, really distracting.

She leans back against him, head tipping to the side. He laughs, and she feels it rumble through him where they're pressed together, "The door, love. Unless you're really into exhibitionism."

She considers it, for a teeny, tiny moment, feeling his hand hot on her stomach through the material of her dress, and his trapped cock pressing against her.

But no, she kind of likes this building, and it would be a shame if she had to move out because one of her neighbors caught her in a compromising positon.

She shrugs her shoulder, nudging Klaus away, and focusing on her clutch. She unearths her key ring with a crow of triumph, quickly unlocking the door and hurrying to the elevator, casting a glance over her shoulder to see Klaus a few steps behind her.

They say nothing, as they wait for the elevator, and Caroline cheers internally, when it opens to reveal an empty car.

She doesn't waste time, just shoves him against the wall, slipping her thigh in between his, to rub up against his cock, straining behind his jeans. Klaus groans, his head tipping back against the wall, and Caroline runs her nose up the line of his throat, bites down on his earlobe before she murmurs, "What was that about exhibitionism, Klaus?"

He tries to flip them, but she resists, pressing her hips harder into his, one of her hands creeping up the front of his shirt, "Nuh-uh," she scolds. "You're the guest. Pretty sure that means I have to do all the work."

His eyes flare, when she teases his stomach with her nails, the muscles contracting underneath her touch. She's startled, by the door opening, and Klaus takes advantage, swooping down and kissing her. His hand cups her shoulder, thumb slipping the strap of her dress off, before tracing down and delving into the cup of her bra.

She moans into his mouth, when he rubs over the hard peak of her nipple, pressing her flesh more firmly into his hand. Klaus smiles, against her lips, pulling back enough to say, "Surely, as an uninvited guest, I'd be expected to pitch in? I don't mind. Truly."

The doors drift close, because of their lack of action, and Caroline stumbles over to the panel, to slap the door open button, "Let's negotiate. Inside my apartment."

Klaus doesn't argue, following her down the hall, after she's pulled her coat up enough to be decent.

And then she can't find it in herself to complain, when his version of 'work' apparently involves dropping to his knees, and hitching her thigh over his shoulder, against her front door, shoving her panties aside and applying his tongue to where she's dripping.

And Klaus doesn't mind, when she returns the favor, his hands in her hair, garbled pleas and words of praise spilling from him, as he sprawls across her bed, as she swallows around his length.

When he's finally inside her, he watches her face raptly. He's got her hands pinned under his, next to her head, his cock moving inside of her tortuously slowly. Her thighs are clamped around his flanks as she writhes underneath him, mindless with pleasure, his name tumbling breathlessly from her lips.

Caroline realizes she has no idea who's winning their little disagreement about manners.

And she doesn't really care.

Caroline wakes slowly, drowsy and content, to light kisses being brushed across her shoulders, a hand low on her hip. She stretches her arms above her head, buries her face into her pillow. The hand curves down, sneaking between her body and her bed.

She parts her thighs, giving him more room.

"Don't you have a plane to catch?" she mumbles.

"I have at least an hour before I have to leave," Klaus replies, his voice warm and sleep-gravelly, resting on his side, hand continuing its descent. "And I think you should agree to have dinner with me," he continues conversationally, "when I get back."

Caroline's eyes pop open in surprise, and she turns to look at him, "Back? What do you mean back?"

"I was here for a final job interview. They implied that I got it. So I'll be moving here, in a month or so."

Caroline freezes, because she hadn't known that, and she's not sure how she feels about it.

Klaus raises an eyebrow, pausing just before his fingertips part her folds. Caroline's helpless to contain her body's squirming, at the interruption. "Did you want this to be a one night stand, love? Think we'd go our separate ways, and never see one another again?"

She kind of had, but when he begins toying with her clit, Caroline can't think of why that was.

"It can be," Klaus murmurs, against the skin of her back. Caroline hitches a knee to the side, and he obligingly curls two fingers inside of her, and her breathing picks up, as she grinds against his hand, hers clutching the pillow under her head. "But I think that would be a shame. I enjoy you, Caroline. And I think you've enjoyed me too, haven't you?"

She nods, and his fingers pick up speed, her back arching to take more, her muscles tightening in anticipation of release. It never comes, because Klaus stills, just before she gets there. "So, dinner?" he asks innocently, as if his fingers weren't currently buried inside of her, as if she wasn't on the brink of coming apart around them.

Caroline makes an annoyed noise, almost a whine, "You seriously need to know this right now?" she asks, struggling to keep her voice even.

His fingers rub a spot inside of her that has her cursing, muffling the sounds in the cotton underneath her head. Then he's withdrawing altogether, shoving one of the pillows under her hips, and kneeling behind her, before she can protest.

Klaus' hands glide up her spine, and he settles himself against her, holding his weight on his elbows. Caroline tips her hips back, letting out a sigh as his cock slides into her. "You feel incredible, love," Klaus murmurs, tone rough, stilling once he's all the way in, "And I suppose I can wait, for your answer. Convince you that you want to say yes."

Caroline rolls her hips, a silent demand that he move, half expecting him to draw it out. But he sets a firm pace, that has her gasping, and climbing quickly. When his hand tunnels under her to circle her clit, she almost doesn't need it, but the extra stimulation sends her reeling, calling his name.

He follows soon afterwards, collapsing against her back, panting harshly.

He rolls off of her, but not away, a warm, solid presence at her side, his hands smoothing over the skin that he can reach.

It's nice, and she wants him to keep doing it. And not just right now.

Caroline turns onto her side, facing him, and he traces the dip of her waist with a gentle fingers, and careful eyes. Caroline clears her throat, and he looks at her questioningly, "Yes," she says simply, watches his eyes light up and a dimple carve its way into his cheek when he smiles.

He rolls her onto her back, his lips dropping to her throat, as her hand tangles in his hair. She had a sneaking suspicion that he might just miss his flight again,

She'd agreed to dinner because he'd been right, she did enjoy him, and not just the sex part. Because maybe last night had been a date, and maybe Caroline's already breaking the cycle.

She just hopes the second date goes as well.

Something Dumb to Do

(Prompt from howeverlongs: KC+ "i was deliberately not invited to this wedding so im crashing it anyways, even if that means the angry hot maid of honor is going to murder me." Title from 'Marry You' by Bruno Mars. Rated K+).

Klaus slips into the chapel as unobtrusively as possible, taking a seat near the back. He's strategic about it, picking a spot behind a woman in a frankly ridiculous hat, hoping that it'll obscure him from the view of the groom, and the groomsmen, who are lined up next to the alter.

Stefan looks nervous, but thrilled in that besotted way he has. Damon just looks drunk.

About what he'd expected, and luckily neither had glanced his way yet.

Because Klaus technically wasn't supposed to be here.

He'd been disinvited, after he'd gotten a tiny bit too blunt in stating some opinions he'd been holding back, after getting spectacularly wasted during Stefan's stag weekend in Las Vegas.

But honestly, was one not supposed to point out that the groom's brother was in love with the bride to be? And that the bride to be truly wasn't much of a catch, as fickle and self-absorbed as she was?

Apparently not, as Klaus had been informed that he was no longer be welcome at today's festivities.

A woman takes a seat at the piano that's tucked into an alcove, and the door at the back opens as the first notes ring out. The audience in the pews rise, and Klaus realizes the flaw in his plan.

Elena's cousin Katherine is the first out, and she smirks when she sees him.

But then she'd also found his drunken confession hilarious, he'd been told. Had sent him a congratulatory text message, for 'Actually having the stones to say what we're all thinking.'

Followed by several less complimentary ones, alluding to his frequent failures with a certain blonde maid of honor.

Klaus shifts backward, tries to slouch down, but the elderly man beside him is several inches too short to be any decent sort of camouflage.

Bonnie's out next, and she sort of grimaces, when she catches sight of him, but quickly smooths the expression, facing forward and continuing down the aisle.

She'd never much liked him. Why that is, Klaus cannot fathom.

He holds his breath, knowing that Caroline will be out next, and that it's only the two hundred people cluttering up the church that will keep her from attempting to strangle him.

She'd been most displeased by his outburst, and that was the thing that Klaus was most regretful of. She'd been the one to show up at his apartment, the one to inform him that he wasn't welcome at Stefan and Elena's wedding. And the look of disappointment on her face, the cold way she'd spoken to him, was the thing that had Klaus wishing he'd not imbibed quite so heavily.

He's rather enjoyed getting to know Caroline, in the months leading up to the wedding. Klaus had been roped into many of the duties that should have technically fallen on Damon, who held the position of best man. But since intoxicated was the man's default setting, and Caroline couldn't stand him, even when he was stone cold sober, Damon was really more of a figurehead.

Klaus had been highly resentful, in the beginning, but he'd let that go, upon spending more time with Caroline.

He hadn't known her very well before. Caroline had only recently moved to the city, having attended university on the other side of the country. She'd gotten a job with a network in Chicago, and folded right back into her childhood circle of friends.

Klaus had met Stefan at school, forced together as roommates freshmen year they'd managed to make the best of it, and had voluntarily moved into an off campus apartment together for the next three years.

Caroline had visited a few times, and Klaus had met her in passing, enjoyed her forthrightness, and her penchant for wearing things that revealed her long legs. He'd never made a move, sensing that she wasn't really the one night stand type, and that's mostly all he'd been interested in at school.

Years later, as an adult, he still found her intriguing, still found his eyes lingering on her whenever they were in the same room.

Klaus had resolved to do something about it, and the wedding preparations had provided a golden opportunity.

Until he'd mucked that all up.

Caroline's smiling, when she steps onto the runner, radiant and lovely, despite the fact that the dress she's wearing is cut too high at the throat, and an unflattering shade of lavender.

He's not certain if Elena's just tragically inept at that sort of thing, or just the petty sort to sneakily ensure that no one can outshine her on her wedding day by selecting a deliberately terrible dress. Klaus would bet on the latter, if he'd had to.

Her smile dims, just for a moment, as she sees him, but she pointedly looks away, towards the other side of the aisle.

She's slightly too stiff, her spine stubbornly straight, as she walks towards the front of the church. Klaus keeps his eyes on her, even as everyone else's swing towards the flower girl, and then to the bride.

She's careful not to glance in his direction, for quite some time, until Elena's at the front of the church, on her brother's arm. And then Caroline's eyes dart towards Klaus. They widen in surprise, at finding his focused on her.

Klaus has no idea why she should be. For all that Elena Gilbert is beautiful, he's never found her interesting. He's expressed that, during his drunken ramblings, and he'd been quite forward, with his intentions towards Caroline.

She'd scoffed at first, told him she wasn't interested in being another notch on his bedpost. But Klaus is quite certain she was coming around, if the way she'd begun to flirt back, the way she'd leaned into the polite touches that Klaus had begun to allow to linger.

He's certain she'd have said yes, if he'd have asked her to dinner. Is planning on convincing her that she still should.

He's wearing the suit that she'd picked out, though he'd subbed out the lavender shirt and tie that matches the one the groomsmen are wearing. He'd not been oblivious to the appreciative glint in her eye, the way she'd bitten her lip, at his final fitting.

Her eyes narrow, a warning in them clear, just before she breaks eye contact.

'Do not make a scene,' is what Klaus believes she's saying. Plus about a half dozen inventive threats to his person, and his manhood, he imagines.

Caroline Forbes was surprisingly vicious, behind the sunny exterior.

He keeps watching her, as the officiant begins to speak, but she doesn't glance his way again.

But that's fine, because Klaus has a plan. He'll apologize to Stefan, will manage to appear contrite, and they'll allow him to stay, will enjoy seeming benevolent and forgiving, in front of all of their family and friends. He'll get Caroline to dance with him. She likes it, and he's quite certain her anger will be easier to soothe, when she's pressed up against him.

It won't be easy, but Klaus does enjoy a challenge, and verbally sparring with Caroline has one of his very favorite pastimes, these last few months.

He looks forward to doing it often, in the future. Can't wait until the day when he can end their disagreements more pleasurably, until he can kiss her until she forgets why she's mad at him.

Or until she doesn't, but they work their anger out more productively, in bed or against any other convenient flat surface.

Klaus is confident that it's only a matter of time.

Like The Beginning

(Inspired by a Tumblr post of New Year's wishes one of which was, "Also, I hope you get astonishing dick in 2016." Title from 'Barely Legal' by The Strokes. Rated T).

Klaus comes home to chaos, in the wee hours of January 1st.

The front door's barely clinging to its hinges, there's a gaping hole in the wall of the entryway. And the 18th century maple table that had once been there, is now useless, a pile of splintered wood and dust on the floor.

He'd think they were under attack, but word of Bekah's rampage, of her latest paramour's misstep, had quickly spread throughout the quarter.

Poor fellow's missing a heart, and from what Klaus had seen, it had been messy.

Rebekah had, of course, left the bar and stormed home, leaving the clean-up and compulsion of the horrified tourists who'd witnessed her little fit to Marcel and his day walkers. Klaus had stopped by to ensure that everything had gone smoothly, before heading home.

New Year's Eve, new beginnings, didn't mean much after centuries.

He wanders into the house, absently noting the rest of the damages, makes a mental note to send for someone to begin repairs tomorrow.

A tragically common occurrence, with all of his siblings in residence.

He finds Rebekah in the living room, sprawled across the couch, a college aged boy with a bloody neck slumped at an unhealthy angle over the coffee table.

She pays no mind to the remains of her meal, furiously typing into her phone, one hand still stained red to the wrist, shoes discarded and hair disheveled. There's a bottle of very expensive bourbon stuffed into the space between the cushions next to her. She sees him when she reaches for it, and her eyes narrow, as she takes a healthy swig.

"Oh, it's you. So nice to see you, Nik. Don't worry, brother dearest. You won't have to kill this one. I did it myself."

"I heard," Klaus returns easily, snatching the bottle from her grasp. He pours a glass, like a civilized person.

"You heard?" she parrots, "Lovely. Of course. Please get your gloating over with. I'd like to go to bed soon."

"I'll not gloat, sweetheart," Klaus informs her. Magnanimously, in his opinion, while taking a seat in an armchair next to the sofa. "The satisfaction of being right, is more than enough for me."

Rebekah snorts, and opens her mouth, likely to refute that particular assertion. She's plenty of evidence, Klaus knows, to back up a claim that he does rather enjoy a good spell of gloating. Particularly about Rebekah's continued ineptness in selecting romantic partners. But the phone in her hand buzzes, several times in quick succession, drawing her attention from him.

Her face changes quickly, from surprise to annoyance to disgust, until she finally mutters, "Ugh, so crass," tossing her phone aside, and standing from the couch, stalking in the direction of the kitchen.

Curiosity peaked, Klaus reaches out and grabs the phone from midair, before it can land, and he almost chokes on the liquor in his mouth, when his eyes run over the texts.

Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:46 AM]:

Wow, random. Good to hear from you. Not.

Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:47 AM]:

My life is the exact amount of pointless and pathetic that I enjoy, thank you for asking.

Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:

Happy New Year to you too, Rebekah.

Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:

Also, I hope you get astonishing dick in 2016.

Caroline Forbes [THURSDAY 2:48 AM]:

Because you clearly need it.

He's tempted to laugh, but knows his sister won't appreciate it. And it would be awfully inconvenient if she tore the house down altogether.

Rebekah, likely registering the lack of a crash, indicating her phone had broken into pieces, due to her careless treatment, glances over her shoulder. She freezes, when she notices it's in his grasp.

Klaus raises a brow, "Since when are you in contact with Caroline Forbes?" he asks. It's deceptively casual, but a quick flicker of guilt flashes over Rebekah's features, before they become carefully blank.

"She called me a few months ago," Rebekah tells him airily. "Needed a favor. It's not as though we're suddenly besties, Nik."

Klaus hasn't the faintest idea of what Caroline could have possibly needed from Rebekah, and it he's entirely honest it stings a bit that she'd not reached out to him.

"What favor?" he asks evenly, "and did you oblige her?"

"I did," Rebekah answers. "No need for you to search out a dagger. It wasn't for her, not really, but a mutual friend."

"What friend?" Klaus presses, well aware of Rebekah's lack. "And again, Bekah, what favor?"

Rebekah crosses her arms, a mulish set to her mouth, "Matt. And it's really none of your business."

"Did she ask you not to tell me?"

"Oh, would that be acceptable, then? Of course," she bites out snidely.

"Bekah," Klaus grits out warningly.

She huffs, throws up her hands, and stomps over. She reaches for her phone, but Klaus is faster, is out of the chair with the device safely behind his back before her fingers even graze it. "Ugh, fine. As per usual, the idiots in Mystic Falls got into a spot of trouble. Matt got hurt, almost died. Caroline wanted to arrange for him to get out of Mystic Falls, asked for my help in putting together something he'd not question, that was too good to pass up. So I did. And no, she didn't say anything about keeping it a secret from you."

Klaus hums in acknowledgement, mind turning over the information. He's not pleased that Caroline's still hurling herself into fires for her useless friends, and he understands why she'd called Bekah, for this particular request. Klaus' interest in ensuring Matt Donovan lead a full human life is nonexistent.

Rebekah holds out her hand expectantly, her foot beginning to tap.

Klaus shakes his head, "I think I'll keep it, at least until you're in a more fit state. Can't have you antagonizing more of our old friends, hmm?"

Rebekah rolls her eyes, "You're so transparent, Niklaus," she tells him disdainfully, before whirling and stomping out of the room. Klaus hears her rummaging through the freezer, and some of the cupboards, before she makes her way upstairs, her door slamming loudly behind her.

He's been tapping the screen periodically, and as soon as Bekah's locked herself away he flips to her contacts, connecting a call for Caroline.

He's going to consider her contacting his sister to be a loophole, her not attempting to hide it a subtle bit of encouragement. And since he's safely within the borders of New Orleans, he's not breaking any promises, is he?

He's presumed more, on flimsier pretenses, in the past.

Caroline picks up after a few rings, sounding both annoyed and mildly intoxicated, "Seriously, Rebekah? Berating me, and my life choices, via text wasn't enough? You just have to do it over the phone, too? I have it on good authority that New Orleans is supposed to be exciting. Go find something to do."

"I'm 'good authority' now?" Klaus says, when she pauses for a breath. "I'm touched. How very far I've come in your esteem."

Caroline groans, though Klaus thinks she sounds at least somewhat amused. She doesn't hang up, and he counts that as a win. "Klaus. Of course it's you."

"It is. Though not in the flesh, so I do believe I should be safe from your wrath."

"You lasted a few years," Caroline observes. "I'm kinda impressed."

"I'd have held out for longer, but the news that you've apparently struck up a friendship with my sister could not be borne, love. I'm far more interesting."

Caroline makes a noise of disgust, "First of all ew, no. Rebekah and I will never be friends. She's a nightmare, FYI. Second of all, pretty sure you'd have to be more interesting, since she's spent good chunks of the last 1000 years out of it, with a dagger in her chest."

Klaus ignores the mild accusation, "No, I'm quite sure I've always been more interesting."

Caroline lets out a soft laugh, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Do," Klaus advises, before easing in to what he really wants to know. "How are you, Caroline?"

"I'm…" she pauses, for a long time. And when she continues, there's a thread of resignation weighing her down that Klaus finds he does not like, "I'm the same as I've always been."

"Just like you wanted, then," he notes, striving for neutrality. Because he firmly believes that her wants were far too small, would make her miserable, in the end.

Caroline lets out a sigh, mumbles an unenthusiastic agreement to his words. "What about you?" she asks, forcing cheerfulness as she changes the subject, "How's life in New Orleans?"

Rather mundane, if Klaus is being entirely honest. The challenge of taking it back had called to him, but he finds the day to day management of it tedious, finds that dealing with the squabbling factions, often so petty and childish, wears on him.

"I've been thinking of leaving, for a bit," he confesses. "Maybe revisiting some of my old haunts."

"Paris, Rome, Tokyo?" she teases gently.

"Perhaps."

It's incredibly satisfying, that she remembers his words, years after they'd been spoken. Almost as if she'd thought of them, turned them over in her head, like he had with so many of the moments they'd shared. Reluctantly, at first, but he'd come to enjoy the urge, stopped fighting it, in time.

And she's still there, still breathing softly, on the line hundreds of kilometers away. It's more then he'd expected, when he'd impulsively made this call. Klaus decides to venture a little more, "My offer to you does, of course, still stand," he tells her.

She doesn't reject him outright, but the sharpness of her next inhale tells Klaus that he's surprised her.

Does she think he'd moved on? Does she think he'd not known the weight of his words, known what it meant when he'd said he'd seen her in his life? Understandable, because she's so very young.

But he's not. And he's not one to change his mind, once it's set upon a course.

Caroline's next words, little more than a quiet contemplative murmur, are perhaps some of the most shocking of his very long life.

"I'll think about it."