Notes: This one was from the drabble round I did a couple weeks ago, I just realized forgot to put it up here. I've been trying to break my smut slump with prompts over on my Tumblr so expect those to be added in the next few days.

Toil and Trouble

(Prompts: "S3 Klaus travels in time" +"KC + Klaus doesn't end up in Tyler's body" Rated T.)

He awakens with a start, his eyes scanning his surroundings wildly. Klaus' torso jerks, his hands flying up to pat at his chest. The last thing he'd felt was pain, flames licking at his skin, promising to grow hotter. They're gone but his throat is raw, his inhales painful and tasting of smoke.

He's comforted when he recognizes where he is. Starting from a familiar place is always a tactical advantage. The smells of the forests that surround Mystic Falls are a soothing. He hears a rustle, and then someone, a woman, steps out from behind a tree. Klaus tenses, forces himself up, getting his legs under him. A wave of magic settles over him, keeping him crouched low. He braces his hands on the ground, narrowing his eyes at his would be captor, "Witch," he snarls, "I suggest you rethink whatever suicidal revenge plot you've concocted here. It will not end well for you or anyone you love."

The witch sighs, crosses her arms, not the least bit moved by his menacing, showing no twitch of fear. "I really haven't missed the grandiose threats. But if it makes you feel better, go ahead. Try to terrify me."

Klaus bristles at the condescension, studying her more closely. His eyes widen in recognition, even as he rejects the realization. He'd just seen Bonnie Bennett, all of eighteen with more power than she knew what do with. Her resemblance to the witch who stands in front of him now is uncanny. This version's hair is more grey than black, her face lined. She's worlds more confident too, strength etched into her every movement. Perhaps a relation? One he'd not known of. Her lips twist in amusement, "Wow. So glad I lived to see the day Klaus Mikaelson was surprised into speechlessness."

He schools his features, tests his magic bonds and finds them lightened. He stands cautiously but finds he cannot move his feet. "Have we met, then?"

Her snort is derisive, "Unfortunately."

"Forgive me, I've met so many witches. They rather blend together. You're clearly a Bennett but which one?"

She actually laughs at him, her head falling back. "I hadn't expected this to be so much fun."

"So glad to amuse," Klaus spits out.

Her words turn more mocking, "You're really not. But that's okay. Makes it even better for me, honestly."

He swallows a noise she'd surely take as yet another threat. Before he can muster something more polite the witch turns, stepping on to a well-worn path. "Come on. I'll take you to people who'll explain things more nicely than I'm willing to. I've got work to do and babysitting misplaced Hybrids is way below my pay grade."

He follows, has little other choice, though the witch keeps a firm leash on him magically, not allowing him within a body's length of her. "I'm sensing a distinct lack of trust," he calls.

She doesn't bother to look at him when she replies. "You sure are! I'm not an idiot, Klaus."

He grits his teeth together, resolving to stay silent. His captor seems loathe to offer any useful information and the delight she takes with his confusion is maddening. He fixes his eyes on his surroundings, notes that they're not quite as familiar as he'd initially thought. The trees are sparser, more light peeking through the canopy than he recalls. Those that remain are taller, and the path is wider and more deeply tread.

They're headed in the direction of his house. Hopefully there will be a useful advantage to be gained once he's solidly within his own territory.

His uncharacteristic optimism dies quickly. Once they break through the tree line the witch sends him a smirk, obviously marinating in some private glee. He looks away, taking in the unkempt grounds with displeasure.

This day just got odder and odder.

As they approach the back of the house Klaus is hit with a greater series of shocks. One of the glass doors slides open and a familiar figure emerges. Her blue eyes light up and she streaks towards them at full vampire speed. Klaus barely has time to take in her appearance – her shorter hair and sleeker, more expensive clothing – or process how delighted she seems at seeing him - before Caroline's standing in front of him. "You're here!" she bursts out, bouncing on her toes, "This is amazing!" She reaches out to grasp his lapels, straightening the fabric. "And, not that it's relevant, but this is a really good jacket and it's unfortunate it got burnt to a crisp."

The witch's sigh is fond, and long suffering, "You're literally the only person who would ever think double the fun is a thing that applies here."

Caroline grins, her eyes turning sly, "Well," she drawls, "now that you mention it, if we have time…"

Bennett witch cuts off whatever she'd been about to say, "Ew, no. Do not even think about finishing that sentence."

She pouts, "You're no fun."

"Nope, we just have very different ideas about fun."

"Fair point." Caroline steps away from Klaus, shooting him a bright smile before turning to the witch. "I thought you were finally going a bit…" she twirls her finger near her ear and whistles, "…senile but nope, you are just badass enough to transport Original Hybrids through time."

"Rude, Caroline."

Caroline waves away the admonishment, her eyes still riveted on Klaus. "You're 133, Bon. Totally entitled to a little old lady nuttiness."

He's been struggling to form an appropriate sentence, so unused to having Caroline's warmth directed at him and his mind processing the rapid fire revelations, fitting them together and forming and discarding plans. In the end he doesn't have to decide on a course of action because another figure, one even more familiar to him, fills the doorway to the house.

He really should be doing a better job of maintaining a neutral expression but finding yourself eye to eye with yourself is a bit shocking, even for one as old as him. His other self's face is amused and he wraps his hand around Caroline's hip tucking her into the line of his body. The move is easy, affectionate, speaks to a wealth of familiarity and Klaus' bafflement grows. "I remember this part being overwhelming. Perhaps we should offer our guest a drink?"

Caroline doesn't seem to have the slightest objection to the closeness, melts into this other Klaus' touch, if anything. She lets out an exaggerated gasp, pressing her hand over her heart, "Did you, Klaus Mikaelson, just admit to being overwhelmed? By a mere magical shenanigan?"

"I am among friends, am I not?" he replies easily, turning to lead the way back into the house.

The witch, who he must now admit is, in fact, an aged Bonnie Bennett, mutters, "Debatable," even as she makes to follow.

He takes a moment for himself, once they've disappeared, listening careful to the rise and fall of their voices. Caroline's remains high pitched with faux outraged and Bonnie's retorts are low and dry. He hears himself add occasional comments, finds that the most unnerving thing of all.

No one calls for him to join them and Klaus is grateful. He'll have to enter the house, at some point; he has little other choice if he wants to get back to his appropriate time and place. And he does, for he can't imagine missing out on whatever series of events leads to Caroline welcoming his touch, and laying her hands on him without even thinking to ask for permission.

He doesn't see the point in rushing, however. Not when he's been given a golden opportunity. A glimpse into one's own future? A rare opportunity that he'd be a fool to squander.