Notes: A fairly disastrous Caribbean vacation (it was beautiful but I had an attack of clumsiness!) left me struggling with writing. I meant to write a quick thing to get out of my slump but it ended up being not so quick.

Think About Tomorrow

(Prompt: kc + we promised to stay friends but we're doing the same stuff we did when we were a couple and i don't wanna point it out because i don't want it to stop. Title from "Come Back Home" by The Arkells. Rated T.)

Five seconds after walking into the courtyard, Caroline realizes she's miscalculated.

Super annoying because planning on being nearly late has been making her anxious all freaking day.

It looks like her neighbors are all present and accounted for, which she should have anticipated. Last quarter's tenants meeting had resulted in a screaming match and Mrs. Bolton's carefully frosted cupcakes being used as projectiles. Such a waste of the fluffiest buttercream Caroline's ever had the pleasure of tasting. Obviously, no one wants to miss this little shindig and the possibility of high drama.

The folding chairs are all filled. Except one.

The one next to Klaus.

Damn it.

They'd shared the usual meaningless break up platitudes. The ones about how they really liked each other as people and should still stay friends and blah blah blah. Caroline's never been in this situation, stuck in close proximity with an ex, at least as an adult. She'd known falling for a neighbor was a gamble but Klaus had seemed like a risk she needed to take. Since they'd fizzled she's been carefully avoiding him.

If only Klaus would have the courtesy to follow her lead.

She's held her breath and checked the peephole every time she's left her apartment. A Klaus-free hallway means she can bolt for the staircase. She's gotten some odd looks from her neighbors on the instances her outfits had required heels. She's ignored them, slipped the shoes on in the lobby, because the last thing she needs is a broken ankle.

Knowing Klaus he'd take such an opportunity and run with it. She'd need help if she were injured, with groceries and laundry and getting meals together. He'd be charming and helpful, all in the name of being neighborly. He'd make her laugh and she'd see him in her apartment again, lounging on her couch and messing with her knick knacks, and Caroline can't allow that. Not until she's over him.

Any day now.

Their friend groups are pretty solidly intertwined and she knows he's been asking about her. Caroline's not entirely sure why, since he'd been the one to back off.

She'd been super pissed two months ago. Now she's just confused. She doesn't trust the Klaus-shields she's got in place just yet, can't risk him slithering passed.

Klaus smiles at her, lifts his hand in a cheery little wave. Tips his head in the direction of the single empty seat tucked cozily between him and the wall.

He's probably done the intimidating murder eyes thing he's so good at to save it.

Caroline pastes on a bright smile – because she's so not willing to let him win the breakup – and makes her way over to him. He stands to let her pass. "Hey, Klaus," she greets. She keeps it warm, casual. Hopes it sounds natural. She scans the room to avoid looking at him, holds her breath. Meeting his eyes with his body so close, smelling the cologne that used to linger on her sheets, is dangerous.

"Caroline," he murmurs. When he sits his thigh presses to hers and she hurriedly crosses her legs to cut off the contact. "It seems you've been busy lately. I haven't seen you in what, two weeks?"

Clearly, Klaus had missed the post-breakup etiquette day at adulting school. He's not supposed to call her out like that.

Caroline manages to laugh, "Has it been that long? One of my coworkers broke her leg so I've been covering for her."

That's a big fat lie and she crosses her fingers Klaus won't ask a follow up question. Luckily, Alaric Saltzman stands calls them to order. He starts talking about the meeting's agenda. Caroline holds in a huff of annoyance. He's talking slowly, probably already a few drinks in, and that's only going to prolong her torment. She'd read the materials that had been circulated already but, having lived in this building for three years now, she knows that few other people would have bothered to prepare.

She stiffens when she feels Klaus lean in, his breath ruffling the curls that have come loose from her top knot. "Care to liven this meeting up with a wager, love?"

Her eyes widen and she almost chokes. A few people glance over and Caroline hopes she hasn't turned visibly red. "That would be highly inappropriate," she hisses and oh god she sounds like one of the Mystic Falls church busybodies who'd sniffed about the unladylike length of Caroline's skirts in high school.

A sound of amusement comes from Klaus and she resists the urge to dig a sharp elbow into his ribcage. Mostly because touching him is a terrible idea. "My, someone's thinking impure thoughts."

"Gee, I wonder why," she mutters. They'd bet sexual favors last time (and Caroline has very fond memories or collecting her winnings).

"As delightful as such bets would be," Klaus says, sounding like he in no way objects to the concept, "I was thinking cash. Five dollars says Damon Salvatore's once again behind on his recycling dues."

Does he think she's an amateur? She's lived here longer than he has. "Please. That's a sucker's bet. You're going to have to do better."

She catches a hint of a smile, distinctly triumphant, before Klaus sobers, his head tipping back like he's thinking deeply.

His next proposal is far more reasonable. She counters with another, can't really help herself. She's never been able to resist a competition. They keep talking and she finds herself relaxing, biting her lip to keep from giggling at Klaus' more pointed observations about their neighbors.

She walks out of the meeting with an extra seven dollars in her pocket wondering if maybe, just maybe, she can stop with the ninja avoidance moves.

A few days later, Caroline's staring blankly at four trays of cookies cooling on her kitchen island. She'd had a moderately crappy day at work and when she'd stopped at the grocery store on the way home an endcap of chocolate chips had caught her eye.

Hence the stress baking. She's done it on autopilot, doubling the recipe, and now she's got 64 cookies to deal with.

She'll take some to work but her office is small and two of her coworkers have been on health kicks. She'll get serious evil eyes if she brings in more than a dozen. She's gotten used to Klaus taking baked goods off her hands. The man has an impressive sweet tooth but doesn't even own a cookie sheet and he's never had any qualms with storing the leftovers in his freezer and whipping them out whenever his agent calls him in for a meeting.

Apparently, he's significantly better liked by the various editors and admins at his publishing company now.

Maybe she could just pop over and see if he still wants them. Just because he's not her boyfriend anymore doesn't mean Caroline doesn't wish him success.

Mentally patting herself on the back for her emotional maturity, Caroline grabs a Tupperware container and loads it up.

And then she runs to her room to put on something cuter than an old Whitmore hoodie and flour dusted leggings. She switches out her sports bra for something with more lift but draws the line at makeup. She isn't trying to impress Klaus, or anything. She's just making herself presentable.

She grabs her keys and exits her apartment. She takes the few steps to Klaus' door at an abnormally fast pace, raps sharply before she can chicken out.

She can hear him on the other side, knows he must be checking the peephole and it's a struggle not to fidget or let her face do something weird. The locks scrape and Klaus looks pleased when he appears. A bit shocked too, but Caroline can't blame him considering the lengths she's gone to lately to avoid seeing him.

"Caroline," he says slowly, glancing down the hall like he expects hidden cameras. "To what do I…"

He's being stiff, a little formal, a tell that he's not entirely confident. It makes Caroline feel a little better about her own nerves. She jiggles the container a bit. "I baked. Kind of excessively."

"Bad day?" he asks knowingly.

It's tempting to say yes. To sigh and let her rigid posture loosen and unload like she used to. Klaus had never minded listening to her, not even when she'd got off track and rambled about issues that were only tangentially related. He used to sit at her kitchen island and listen to her vent, calmly making his way through a stack of cookies while she'd eliminated all traces of flour from her countertops and scrubbed down her mixer.

He'd quickly learned that cleaning was part of the destressing process and it was safer for him to stay out of the way.

He'd ask questions and scoff at stupid things her clients had done. The few times he'd stopped by her office he'd been cool and dismissive of the coworkers she didn't like and Caroline had kind of enjoyed it. Petty? Yes. But she'd liked the proof that he'd paid attention.

She wonders if it would be so bad to be honest. To try to talk to him.

He's watching her, waiting patiently for an answer and Caroline notes a smudge of ink on his neck. That his hair's mussed and he's wearing worn jeans and a t-shirt that's grey now but was probably blue of black once upon a time.

She knows that shirt, remembers how soft it was against her cheek as she'd laid draped over Klaus on his couch. It's got a hole on the left side, directly over a spot that Klaus lies and claims isn't ticklish. Her finger had always found it, wormed inside to stroke his skin, and whatever TV show they'd been watching would quickly be forgotten.

The memories are too vivid. Sometimes she'd managed to pin him and dig her fingers into his skin, until he'd shaken with silent laughter, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched to keep the sounds in. Other times he'd been faster, had flipped her over and gotten revenge, until she'd been gasping for breath and pleading for mercy, sides aching but so freaking happy.

They can't be friends, not when she can't forget what it was like to be more.

"Kind of," Caroline snaps, angrier than she'd meant to be. She shoves the cookies in his direction and Klaus barely has a hold on them before she's backing away. The container wobbles and he steps forward, pulling it closer. "I just didn't want them to go to waste. I've got dinner on the stove, so…"

Another lie. She'd planned on ordering a pizza but she's going to have to scrounge something edible from her cupboards now.

"Wait," he calls, "Caroline…"

She ignores him, turning, yanking her keys out of her pocket. She's laser focused, jams the key into the lock.

"Caroline, can't we just…"

He's closer and she shakes her head, getting the door open and stepping in, "Maybe another time. Have a good night!"

She's got the door closed before she's finished speaking. Caroline presses back against it, sorely tempted to give her head a couple knocks.

What had she been thinking?

She can hear Klaus, faintly, in the hallway. Can't quite make out what he says.

It's at least two minutes before she hears his door shut.

"Caroline, darling, is that a new dress? You look positively edible."

Huh. That's suspicious.

Caroline's used to Kol's lavish compliments, knows to be on guard when he whips them out because it usually means he's done something she's going to hate. Or needs a favor. She drops her purse on the table by his door, takes the very large glass of red wine he hands her. Takes a healthy sip because she might need it. "What do you want, Kol?"

Kol's got his most contrite expression on though Caroline sees a tiny bit of something else in his eyes. Glee, maybe. Anticipation, definitely. "There's been a bit of a mix up," he explains.

Well, that's barely helpful.

"And…" she prompts.

He sighs, drapes his arm over her shoulder. "Bekah didn't know that you had custody of the group tonight. Nik stopped by her place to drop off something he'd borrowed and she dragged him along to dinner."

"So Klaus is…" Kol's steered her to face the kitchen and there's the answer to her question. Klaus is in the living room, talking to Marcel, his back to her. "Here," Caroline finishes. "Does he know…?"

"That you're here? We told him you'd be along shortly. He said he didn't mind though he'd leave if you did. I assured him that I thought we could all be adults." He looks at her, disapproving, and Caroline cannot believe that she is being judged by Kol Mikaelson of all people.

"Are you seriously attempting to use reverse psychology on me right now?"

Kol grins, "Depends. Is it working?"

She takes another sip of wine that might technically be more of a gulp. Kol's brows rise but he's smart enough not to comment. "I don't see why I have to be the bigger person," Caroline complains. "He got weird. And he broke up with me."

Kol's kind enough not to comment on her sulkiness, draws her tighter to his side. It's almost a hug, something she'd sure he'd deny. "My brother can be massively thick headed."

Ugh, how is it that there's still a tiny part of her brain that's offended at the insult to Klaus?

"That's one way of putting it," Caroline mutters.

"I'm sure you'll be ever so creative and verbose once we get more liquor into you. Assuming you're staying?" Caroline nods because she's not a coward, and drains her wine. She hands Kol the glass. "And Niklaus?" he asks.

Caroline takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to smooth down her dress. Part of her wants to leave but that would be a show of weakness. A smaller, more childish, part of her wants Klaus to leave. He'd do it, Kol had said, probably with a minimum of fuss. There'd be no hiding the reason, however, and she'd hate for Enzo and Kol's gathering to get awkward.

She's hate even more to have to endure an evening of her friend's pitying stares.

An event like this had been inevitable. Two of her very favorite people are in love with Mikaelsons (though Katherine's still super in denial) and it's kind of a miracle Caroline's managed to avoid Klaus socially for this long.

She can do this. Maybe it's a fake it till you make it kind of situation and this evening will make her immune to the awkwardness that'll comes with hanging out in Klaus' vicinity.

She can only cross her fingers and cling to blind optimism.

Caroline surveys the room. Only a few people have noted her arrival. Kat's perched on the arm of a chair, and she raises a questioning brow when Caroline meets her eyes. Klaus is watching her too but he's wary. She manages a smile in his direction, faint and only passingly polite. "He can stay," she says. "Just don't expect me to sit next to him at dinner."

"What kind of host do you think I am?" Kol asks, some of his offense genuine.

She reaches up to pat his cheek, before ducking out from under his arm, "The kind that's quick with the refills, I hope."

Kol heads to the kitchen and Caroline makes her way towards Katherine. She might be a mature adult but that doesn't mean she's not grateful for an ally.

And Kol's tendency to heavy pour.

Caroline's still in the habit of checking to see if the hallway is empty. She does it automatically now, even late on a Sunday evening, a bag of trash clutched in her hand.

The coast had seemed clear.

Her heart nearly stops when she spots Klaus on the floor, halfway between her doorway and his. He's sitting down, leaning against the wall. His eyes are closed and he's listing to one side.

She freezes, but only for a second. Then she's moving, garbage dropped, forgotten, as she lurches over to kneel next to him. She checks his head first, her hands gentle. "Klaus? Klaus, wake up." He doesn't even twitch, slipping further to the left.

Caroline runs one hand over his body, checking for injuries, her other going to his neck. "Please, be okay. I need you to be okay," she mutters. Feeling around, she finds a steady pulse. "Thank god."

She's shaking and she regrets not bothering with any first aid refreshers after college. Her panic eases slightly when she realizes there's no blood, that he's warm to the touch. She manages to take a shaky breath in. "Klaus, open your eyes." No response. She shuffles closer, raising her voice, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus, please. Wake up. Tell me what happened. What do you need?" Caroline leans closer, tipping his head in her direction and he groans, slumping into her.

Caroline gets a strong whiff of bourbon.

Oh, she's going to kill him.

"You're drunk?" she shrieks. "I practically have a panic attack because I thought you were freaking dead and you're…"

His face creases in pain and she presses her lips together, still fuming. His lashes flutter and when he manages to open his eyes they're hazy, confused. "Sweetheart," he slurs, "Why're you…"

He blinks, looking passed her, "Hallway," he manages, after a long moment. "Where's my…"

Klaus' hands go to pat at his pockets. One of them had been keeping him upright-ish and Caroline grabs him before he can hit to floor, tugging until he's propped against the wall. "Careful!" she scolds.

Klaus is either unconcerned or unaware that he'd just nearly face planted. "Couldn't find my keys. I think I left them in the car."

She considers leaving him. He's a grown up who'd chosen to pickle his liver without bothering to ensure he'd get to bed safely. He's so not her problem.

She can't make herself stand up and walk away.

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut, sucks in a breath through her teeth. She's a little calmer when she opens her eyes again. Klaus is slumped where she left him, sleepy eyed and watching her raptly. "Okay," she says briskly. "Who dropped you off?" She's got most of Klaus' usual drinking buddies in her phone.

"Blonde girl. Pretty, but not as pretty as you."

The compliment doesn't land as Klaus had intended. She shoves his shoulder, forgetting his lack of balance, has to yank at his shirt to keep him from going down. "You were on a date?" she hisses. She should probably try to keep her lid on her outrage, doesn't want Klaus to know how her stubborn stupid feelings linger, but maybe he'll be too out of it to remember.

A girl can dream.

"Pro tip, maybe don't get falling down drunk on a date. You're probably not going to get a second."

He laughs, louder than he usually does, his head tipping back against the wall. She hates herself for it but she studies him more closely, looking for a lipstick smudge or a mouth shaped bruise, checking to see if the buttons of his shirt line up.

When he quiets he reaches for her, his hand circling her wrist. "Don't want a second. Or even a first. Don't want her."

That doesn't make a whole lot of sense but he's clearly had an awful lot of bourbon. Caroline ignores the jealousy that's still making her a little sick, does her best to be business like. Once she's solved this Klaus situation she'll retreat to the bath tub with her emergency Haagen Daaz. She tries to tug her arm away but Klaus' is unwilling to be shaken off. "Can you text your new pretty blonde friend and get her to swing back with your keys? Or does Rebekah or Kol have a spare set?" Elijah's out of town, Caroline knows, won't be back until Tuesday. They'd chatted about his business trip at Kol and Enzo's.

"Phone's dead."

"Of course it is," Caroline grumbles. Klaus had availed himself of the backup charger she carries in her purse way more than she ever had. "I'll text Kol."

She pulls back enough to snap a pic of Klaus, sends it off.

Caroline [11:23 PM]: Found: 1 drunk brother.

Caroline [11:23 PM]: Please bring keys and take him off my hands.

Kol [11:24 PM]: He left them in the Uber. I found them.

Caroline [11:24 PM]: Awesome.

Caroline [11:24 PM]: Did you have a fun double date?

Caroline [11:24 PM]: I heard Klaus' new lady friend is pretty.

She regrets the text as soon as she sends it. It's not her business and Kol will read way too much into the statement. Not that it'll be hard when, even via text, it drips with how pissed she is. Klaus' thumb traces circles on her skin, like he's trying to soothe her. It's distracting so she'll blame him for her impulsiveness.

Kol [11:25 PM]: What? It was strictly boys only, darling. Marcel got a new job.

She's not owed an explanation. That doesn't mean she can resist fishing for one.

Caroline [11:26 PM]: He's not my boyfriend anymore. You don't have to cover for him. It's not like he's cheating.

Kol [11:26 PM]: Like I'd have covered for him if he'd have been dumb enough to cheat on you.

Kol [11:27 PM]: The only women he talked to tonight were the waitress and the Uber driver.

Kol [11:27 PM]: I offered my world class wingman skills and a red head in a scandalous top made sex eyes but Nik was more interested in his glass.

Kol [11:27 PM]: His many glasses, I should say.

She's probably a terrible person but she's pleased. She'll never admit as much, however.

Caroline [11:28 PM]: I'm confused.

Kol [11:28 PM]: Me too. I'm going to text our Uber driver your number. I gave her $40 to drop Nik's keys off. Will you grab them from her?

Caroline [11:29 PM]: I should make him sleep it off in the hallway.

Kol [11:29 PM]: Probably. But you won't.

He's totally right and it's super annoying.

Caroline [11:29 PM]: Fine.

Caroline [11:30 PM]: I will get him safely inside his apartment but that's it. I'm not tucking him in, I'm not making sure he's hydrated. I might steal all the painkillers from his medicine cabinet.

Kol [11:31 PM]: Hell hath no fury.

Caroline [11:31 PM]: Shut up.

She's not scorned, damn it. Klaus hadn't technically wronged her in any way. As much as she'd like to she can't blame him for the lingering soft spot she has for him. That's all on her. She's never been great at caring for people halfway.

Caroline makes sure her ringer is on, turns the sound way up, and shoves her phone into her pocket. She debates getting Klaus to stand, hauling him into her place. She suspects he'd make himself at home on her couch and that getting him into his place would then be more of a struggle. Instead, she sits next to him, resigns herself to waiting. She turns her head so she can look at him, "Do you have to puke or anything?"

He makes a noise of denial, his palm slipping over hers. He moves closer, his head tipping down to watch as their fingers tangle together. She probably shouldn't be allowing the touching, definitely shouldn't be enjoying it, but if it keeps Klaus in this quiet and cooperative stage of drunkenness she'll let it happen.

He'd never been particularly fond of PDA. Except when he'd been drinking.

In private he'd always been touching her, would pull her close and wind his hands into her hair when they watched TV. She'd usually woken up in the middle of the bed, Klaus pressed against her. He'd liked it when she wore his clothes, used his shampoo and soap. Liked leaving marks on her skin even more, scraped her with his stubble until her skin was red and sensitive, left little bites that would become bruises, hints of pain meant to tease and distract, always a precursor to pleasure.

She tries to pull away again, feels the back of her neck getting hot. Klaus' grip remains firm.

He flips her palm over, presses the back of her hand to his thigh. Traces the lines he finds delicately.

She sinks her teeth into the inside of her lip when she wants to shiver.

"Did you at least have fun?" she asks.

The shake of his head is slow. "Not particularly. Tried to beg off but Marcel says I've been too much of a hermit recently."

"Didn't think you were susceptible to a guilt trip."

"There might have been some threats too."

She considers pressing. Drunk as he is, he might be pliant and Caroline's always liked to new information. But Klaus' secrets shouldn't be of any concern to her. She's struggling to let go of him, knowing more might make that harder. She keeps her reply disinterested, "That sounds about right."

"Did you have fun the other night? At Kol's? You seemed to."

She's still half-turned to face him, watches his expression grow darker. She'd kept a room between them at all times, had waited until their various mutual friends had wandered into her orbit before talking to them. Had excused herself to use the restroom whenever it looked like Klaus might get close, or a topic that might draw him in was brought up. She'd been extra bubbly to try to cover any weirdness, had made jokes and laughed loudly and steered all conversations away from her and how she'd been doing.

Honestly? It had been exhausting.

"I always enjoy myself at Kol's," she says diplomatically. "He makes the dip I like."

"You barely ate."

She bristles and the idle patterns he'd been drawing on her palm halt. Would it kill him to just make polite small talk here? She's trying. "Well, that's a little stalker-y."

Klaus doesn't seem to take offense. "Guilty, love. I'd resolved myself to asking you to talk to me in private but you thwarted my efforts. Were like a ghost."

She manages to yank her hand away, puts a few extra inches between them. "We don't need to talk privately."

"I made a mistake.

Would he be saying this sober? Caroline's not sure. "Klaus, stop."

He doesn't listen. "I thought… well, I was wrong about something. And then I realized what an idiot I was for…"

"Stop," she repeats, more forcefully. "You're drunk. This isn't the time."

"Would you talk to me if I was sober?"

She keeps her eyes on her lap. His tone is distinctly wheedling and she doesn't trust herself not to cave if she looks over.

"You seemed awfully reluctant the other night."

Her phone rings and she heaves herself to her feet, sends a silent thank you to the Uber driver with flawless timing. She pats Klaus' shoulder, makes sure he'll stay upright. "You'll just have to ask nicely and find out."

Caroline takes the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator, to give Klaus the time to formulate a reply.

The last twenty minutes have been an emotional whirlwind. Klaus can give her a little time to recover before he throws her into another.

Caroline doesn't sleep. At all. She's not happy about it.

When 6 AM rolls around she knows she should make a pot of coffee and hop in the shower, resign herself to going heavy on the under eye concealer. Instead, she grabs her phone, emails her boss, and takes a sick day. Something she never does so it won't be questioned.

She throws a robe on – her least cute one – and marches over to Klaus' place. She knocks. And knocks, and knocks. Until her knuckles protest.

He looks awful when he throws the door open (and a tiny bit murderous but that evaporates when he sees her) his shirt wrinkled and skin pale. His hair is flat on the left, where an odd pattern from whatever surface he'd been sleeping on is pressed into his cheek, and a snarl of curls on the right. Caroline crosses her arms, "Invite me in."

He wants to talk? They're going to get this over with. Otherwise she's going to dwell and Klaus has been occupying far too much of her mental energy lately. She figures there are two possible outcomes. First, they resolve whatever's lingering between them, for real this time, and he fades into the background of her life, a friend of a friend who happens to live down the hall. In the other option, the one she's kind of rooting for, he continues to take up a ton of space in her brain and buys her dinner and provides regular orgasms for her trouble. Along with good conversations, cute drawings, and overly heated arguments about the merits of reality television.

Klaus steps back, pulling the door open wider, and Caroline brushes passed him. She heads to his kitchen, goes directly for the cupboard where he keeps the coffee. "If we don't do this now I'm going to be thinking about it all day. I won't get anything on my goals list accomplished and I'll be cranky. So I thought we could just… I don't know, rip off the band aid."

Klaus still hasn't said anything but when she twists her head to check his reaction he's smiling. And he doesn't seem to mind that she's making herself at home. "Let me grab a couple painkillers and we'll have coffee."

Caroline winces, reaching into her pocket. She sets his Tylenol bottle on the island between them. "I was kind of pissed last night. I stole these."

He laughs, opens his fridge. Pulls out a bottle of apple juice. Drinks directly from it like some kind of heathen. Caroline wrinkles her nose, "Gross. What if someone else wants some and doesn't want your cooties?"

"I haven't had anyone over in ages."

It's not surprising information, Caroline had gleaned as much from his comments last night. Still, she finds the confirmation that Klaus hasn't been having company welcome.

She turns her attention back to brewing the coffee. Once everything is set she flicks the button, takes a deep breath, turns to face Klaus fully. "I don't understand what happened with us. I made myself not think about it but so much doesn't make sense."

He sighs, all traces of amusement fleeing. "I know."

"I thought things were good. We'd exchanged keys. We'd talked about me moving in when my lease was up. You didn't seem freaked out about that. You mentioned upgrading the bathroom since your tub sucks and I like baths."

"I wasn't freaked out. Honestly. I wanted to take that step." Klaus runs a hand through the flat side of his hair, making it slightly more symmetrical. "I heard that you turned down a promotion."

She stares at him and it takes her a second to realize what he's talking about. "What, the Seattle thing? I never even considered taking it. It was barely a move up. And moving across the country? I can barely get my mom to come here."

He looks down, leans against the counter behind him. Klaus isn't one for embarrassment but she thinks his ears might be turning pink. "I didn't realize that at the time. Katerina kindly explained it to me a few weeks ago."

Yeah, Caroline would bet Kat hadn't been especially kind.

"How did you even know about it?"

"I had to send my laptop away, remember? Borrowed yours a few times. You left a few of the emails open."

Caroline groans, crossing her arms. "You broke up with me because you snooped?" She'd used the offer to leverage a bit of a pay raise. Her boss had been only too willing to keep Caroline around. She hadn't told Klaus, had wanted it to be settled because she'd been pricing out winter getaways in St. Lucia for them.

"I feel as if snooped implies a bit of effort," Klaus mutters. "An ulterior motive." He's lucky there's nothing she can throw at him.

"So not the point," she snaps.

Caroline whirls, intending to get a bit of distance, maybe pace a bit as her mind whirls, but Klaus grabs her arm, steps in front of her. "Wait a minute, don't leave."

"I'm not leaving, geez. I wouldn't have invaded your place this early if I wasn't committed to getting all the gory details."

He's not entirely convinced, ducking down to catch her eyes, his pleading. "I didn't want to hold you back."

She snorts, claps a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, but that's awfully conceited of you. Also, really arrogant. Kind of on brand, I guess."

She's only half teasing.

Annoyance flickers across Klaus' features. "Funny. I thought I was being selfless."

She swallows back the reply that wants to shoot out – she's fairly certain he'd been scared but it she uses that against him flippantly he'll be the one storming out and they'll never get anywhere. "Klaus. I'm not selfless. Had I really wanted Seattle I would have asked you to come with me."

That shocks him. His eyes widen, mouth falling open and he struggles for words.

Her hearts started pounding, nerves tightening her stomach but Caroline continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder and striving for nonchalance. "You work from home like 95% of the time anyway. You'd just have to fly back once a month. And we'd need to get an extra bedroom or two because I'm pretty sure at least one of your siblings would be visiting every weekend because you're co-dependant weirdos. But, since they all have excellent taste in significant others, I would be prepared to deal."

Klaus seems to be having trouble processing. "Why… why would you…"

She knots her hands together because they're shaking. Her voice isn't steady either, "Because I loved you, duh. And I was pretty sure that you loved me too." He'd never said it but then, neither had she. Klaus is good at actions – showing up with dinner when she'd texted that her day had been busy, not complaining when she got his shirt all wet during the sad movies that he hated, stocking his apartment with the scented candles she liked. There'd been dozens upon dozens of tiny little things that showed he paid attention, that he wanted her to be comfortable and happy.

She'd found she hadn't really needed the words.

He reaches for her, his hands settling on her hips. He watches her carefully, checking for any objections. Caroline has none, lets herself be pulled, and fits her body to his. It's just as right as she remembers. When his head dips she dodges, resting her head against his shoulder. She tightens her arms around him, just in case he gets any silly, wrong, ideas about pulling away. "I'm gonna need a little grovelling before I consent to make up sex."

She feels him laugh, hears the low husk of it against her ear. "How about I make you breakfast?"

Caroline thinks that's a great start.