Tangled Up in Blue

by idiot-wind89

A year after Elijah and Elena's wedding, Klaus and Caroline are reunited by a tragic set of life-changing circumstances. AH/AU (continuation of Heart-Shaped Glasses)

17. Chapter 17

A/N: Here it finally is! I apologize for the delay. Both my beta and I have been busy.

I just started back to school again. With that said, I will try to update consistently, but it may take longer than usual. I may begin posting shorter chapters in order to update more frequently. I hope my lack of updating won't discourage you from reading and enjoying my story. I appreciate your patience immensely.

Oh, I'm nominated in the Klaroline Awards on tumblr by the way. Tangled Up in Blue has been nominated for best AU/AH fiction. Love Interruption has been nominated for best completed fiction, and I've also been nominated as best smut author. If you would like to vote for me, search Klaroline Awards on tumblr!

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the last chapter. Your enthusiasm is astounding. I hope you like the update!

---

He stood at the door facing the man and woman a little bewilderedly. They had been expecting this visit for some time, and yet, now that they were here, he felt completely unprepared and taken off guard.

Though, he suspected that had something to do with the fact that he had nearly worked up the courage to kiss Caroline only to be interrupted by Grayson's absence as a result of him learning to crawl.

Needless to say, he was a bit overwhelmed.

"Can we come in?" they requested, in unison, as if their visit was an entirely rehearsed act or procedure.

He supposed for them, it was.

As they looked at him awkwardly, it was only then that he remembered the paint Caroline had so boldly smeared across his face.

"Yeah, sure," he said, stepping aside and giving them both a clumsy smile.

"Niklaus Mikaelson, I presume?" the woman, with short black hair asked him, extending her hand, as the man shut the door behind him.

He nodded, shaking her hand.

"Klaus," he corrected.

"I'm Sylvia Taylor, and this is Peter Monroe. We're caseworkers for Child Protective Services," the woman introduced. "We've been assigned to your case. If you don't mind, we'd like to conduct our first interview as a requirement to obtain permanent custody of Grayson Mikaelson. Are Grayson and Ms. Forbes here?" the woman asked, as he shook the man's hand.

"We're here," Caroline said hurriedly, stepping into the hallway with a paint-covered Grayson, much to his relief and anxiety.

Both caseworkers looked at them appraisingly, clearly noticing their unruly appearances.

"I hope we didn't catch you at a bad time?" the male caseworker asked, clipboard and pen already in hand, he noted.

He looked at Caroline to respond, unsure of what to say, knowing everything they said or did in these moments could be held against them.

"No, of course not," Caroline said politely. "Klaus take their jackets," she instructed him with a penetrating glare. "We were just painting with Grayson," Caroline explained. "Baby safe paint," she added hastily.

He rubbed his hands on his shirt before he extended his hand to take their jackets as the male caseworker began to jot down a few notes.

"I wasn't aware there was baby safe paint," the woman said almost critically while handing him her jacket.

Caroline shot him a glance, urging him to elaborate.

"I picked it up at an art supply store in Whitmore. It's made from fruit and vegetables; it's an all natural product," he explained just as he had to Caroline when she freaked out earlier.

He offered to take the male caseworker's jacket, and hung both of them on the coat rack.

"I think he enjoyed painting himself more than the paper," the male caseworker observed with a slight laugh.

"He definitely enjoyed himself," Caroline confirmed.

"It looks like the both of you enjoyed yourselves," the woman pointed out, looking at both him and Caroline, their faces covered in just as much paint as Grayson's was.

Tensing awkwardly, he avoided glancing in Caroline's direction.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed himself. Sure, he had fun with Grayson, but Caroline had been largely responsible for his enthusiasm. He hadn't been that close to her since the last time they slept together.

It was all he could do to contain himself with her confidently astride him. It was all he could do hold back from pressing his hips harder into hers as he had her pinned beneath him. If he had, surely Caroline would have been able to feel the strain of his pants.

He had this insatiable need to be close to her, to feel her body curve against his, to inhale her intoxicating perfume, to feel her breath on his skin, her golden hair in his hands, and her lips against his.

It amazed him how she could send him reeling into a frenzy with a simple flash of her crystal blue eyes.

He wanted her - all of her - so badly he could almost taste it.

If the way she breathed his name and stared up at him desirously was any indication, she wanted him just as badly.

Still, she hesitated. She turned away from him at the last minute, just as he was about to make his move. She was reluctant. She was holding back for reasons he suspected had to do with their circumstances and their history.

She wasn't ready to let him in a second time, and maybe she never would be. As much as he wanted to convince her to take another chance on him, he wasn't sure he knew what to do with it.

"Yeah, the three of us sort of got into a paint fight. We like to immerse ourselves in all of Grayson's activities," Caroline said with a shaky smile.

Both caseworkers eyed them skeptically.

"We started his swimming lessons back up last week," Caroline added.

This new information didn't seem to sway either caseworker.

"So, how does this interview work exactly?" Caroline wondered anxiously.

He was wondering the same thing.

"Ideally, we like to conduct separate and joint interviews during the first visit as well as a house tour, but since we have to report back to the office at five, and we kind of caught you at a bad time, we'll focus on the joint interview and the tour," the female caseworker explained.

"Do we have time to clean up first?" Caroline laughed lightly.

Both caseworkers hesitated as the male glanced down at the watch on his wrist.

"This won't take too long. If you'd like to return Grayson to his paints, that will give us a chance to talk to the both of you. You can take a few minutes you clean yourselves up while we take a look around the main floor if you'd feel more comfortable, but we are pressed for time," the male caseworker warned them.

Caroline exchanged a perturbed look with him.

Not only were the caseworkers interrupting their afternoon unexpectedly, but they had the audacity to demand that they accommodate their schedule.

He was tempted to ask them to reschedule the first interview, but he knew how that would look to them, and later on, to the judge. Moreover, he knew the rescheduled time could end up being just as inconvenient as this.

"Sure," Caroline said, mustering her best fake smile. "Feel free to take a look around. We'll be in the kitchen," she added, walking past him, urgently beckoning him to follow her with his eyes.

As the caseworkers lingered for a few moments in the front hall, he followed Caroline and Grayson into the kitchen.

Caroline set Grayson back down on the floor with his paints before frantically rushing towards the kitchen sink to scrub her hands and face clean.

He lingered in between, keeping a concerned eye on both of them.

"Oh my god," Caroline cursed under her breath. "What a great start to our first interview. This is a disaster," she muttered, handing him a cloth so that he could remove the paint from himself.

"They have impeccable timing," he acknowledged sarcastically as he cleaned off his face.

The stress was apparent on Caroline's features as she scanned the mess in the kitchen.

There were dishes in and around the sink waiting to be washed, the kitchen island was littered with all the supplies used to prepare Grayson's paints, the dining room table served as a shelf for Grayson's diaper bag, his purchases from the art store, Caroline's bag, and documents of Elijah and Elena's they still had yet to go through. The kitchen floor was covered in newspaper and paint. That was only the kitchen.

Through to the family room, Grayson's fresh paint tracks were quickly drying, and would surely stain the rug since they would have to wait to clean it. Grayson's toys were scattered around the room from earlier, and there was a nearly empty bottle on the coffee table that he had fed Grayson before they left for Whitmore.

It looked like a tornado had ripped through the house.

"What are we going to do now?" Caroline sighed, glancing over his shoulder towards the caseworkers who were in the living room - one of the only clean rooms in the house.

He shrugged, tossing the cloth onto the counter.

"There's nothing we can do about the mess now," he shrugged. "We just have to answer their questions the best we can and hope that they're satisfied with our responses."

Inside, he was just as worried as she was. It bothered him that there was nothing more he could do to reassure either of them.

Before Caroline could respond to him, the caseworkers entered the family room.

They both watched as the caseworkers looked around the room. They inspected the large wall unit, eyeing every photograph, book, and video. They appraised each one of Grayson's toys on the floor as they stepped over them. He felt like he was a part of some grand inquisition.

"The photographs," the female caseworker started, holding up one on the side table, "these are Elijah and Elena's?" She asked.

Caroline nodded confusedly.

"Grayson has a lot of toys," the male caseworker observed, after nearly tripping over one to enter the kitchen.

He coughed to conceal an amused laugh.

"He likes to keep busy," Caroline explained. "Would either of you like something to drink?" Caroline asked, putting her polite mask back on again.

The caseworkers shook their heads in unison as they wandered into the kitchen, clearly scanning the cluttered countertops.

"So Ms. Forbes, our records indicate you were a close friend to the deceased?" the male caseworker asked. "Could you describe your relationship with them?"

He noticed Caroline's expression drop slightly.

"I only really met Elijah through Elena, but we became friends as he and Elena grew closer," Caroline started, a slow smile appearing on her lips as she seemed to be lost in a memory. "I didn't trust him at first because Elena was so young when they first met, and there was such an age difference between them, but he loved her. He once spent his last bit of savings on a flight to see her on her birthday," she said, shaking her head, breaking herself out of her thoughts. "Needless to say, I ended up trusting him enough with Elena...and he trusted me enough with Grayson."

He recalled the time Elijah had scraped the bottom of his savings account - most of his money tied up with living expenses and repaying student debt - to pay for a flight to surprise Elena on her birthday. Telling Elijah that he was making a foolish mistake was as clear in his mind now as the day he had said it during a phone conversation. Elijah hadn't listened to him, however. As he looked down at Grayson, he supposed that was a good thing.

"And Elena?" the woman inquired.

"Elena is...was my best friend since we were little. We were inseparable up until we attended college. She was a sister to me," Caroline said concisely. "We would have done anything for each other," she added, taking a moment to eye Grayson herself.

Both caseworkers nodded while the male jotted down a few notes.

"And you, Mr. Mikaelson? What was your relationship like with the deceased?"

He tensed, uncomfortable with such a personal question for him - especially when it came to his brother.

"I had four brothers growing up, but Elijah and I were always the closest," he admitted, trying to suppress his self-consciousness for Grayson's sake.

He made a point of concentrating on a piece of newspaper at his feet as a means to avoid looking at Caroline or Grayson.

"We did everything together, and told each other everything. He was always there for me when I needed him to be," he explained, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I knew Elena through high school, but I didn't really get to know her until she started seeing my brother. Once I was convinced that things were serious between them, Elena gradually became like a sister to me," he finished, confident with his response.

Caroline seemed satisfied with his response. There was a small smile on her lips.

More notes were taken by both caseworkers before they looked back up at them again.

"Why do you think they chose you to be the ones to look after Grayson in the event of an unfortunate tragedy, like this?" the female caseworker wondered.

Both he and Caroline were quiet for a few moments.

"They trust us," he shrugged.

"Next to them, we're the ones who care most about Grayson," Caroline added.

He nodded in agreement.

"They know that we'll raise Grayson the way they wanted him to be raised," he said.

The female caseworker raised an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, and he knew then that a tough question was coming.

"And how do you plan to raise Grayson?" she wondered.

He froze and hesitated instantly, looking to Caroline helplessly. How the hell were they supposed to answer a question like that? What were they even asking?

Caroline began to stammer as she tried to come up with a sufficient response.

"Well, according to the values Elijah and Elena prized the most," Caroline began, "honesty, integrity, empathy, love, passion, persistence, forgiveness," she listed, looking at him briefly.

He relaxed a little with Caroline's impressive save, though both caseworkers seemed expressionless as they took a few more notes.

"How did the two of you meet?" the male caseworker questioned.

He felt his head cock to the side, somewhat perplexed by the question.

"We knew each other in high school. We met again at Elijah and Elena's wedding..." he said cautiously.

Obviously he wasn't about to go into any detail. He was sure the caseworkers wouldn't like to hear about their impromptu date at the Grill that ultimately ended in his hotel room.

"I was the maid of honour and he was the best man," Caroline added, likely hoping that would lend to their credibility.

The information seemed irrelevant to both caseworkers, however, with the female caseworker checking her phone, and the male caseworker taking more notes.

"Do you mind taking us upstairs so we can have a look around? We just want to see where Grayson sleeps, where he bathes, that sort of thing," the female caseworker explained.

Acquiescing to the request, he bent down to wipe off Grayson's face and hands while Caroline stepped ahead to lead the caseworkers upstairs.

With Grayson somewhat clean, he picked him up and followed behind.

"Perhaps while we look around you can go over what a typical day looks like for Grayson," the male caseworker requested of Caroline from the second floor.

He ascended the stairs as Caroline and the caseworkers entered Grayson's nursery.

"Well, Grayson usually wakes up in the morning through the week between six and seven. It's sometimes a little later on weekends. Grayson goes to daycare on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays as he did before..." she explained, faltering on clarifying that she meant before Elijah and Elena's accident. "I take him in the morning, and Klaus picks him up in the afternoon," she continued, as he entered the nursery. His bedtime is usually between seven thirty and eight."

"How often is he napping and feeding?" the male caseworker asked looking directly at him as he peered up from Grayson's crib.

As with all the questions that had been asked, this one took him off guard. This was a question he knew the answer to even better than Caroline, since he was with Grayson most, but his nerves caused him to falter for a moment as he thought of answer.

"He usually has four bottles a day, sometimes five if he wakes up in the middle of the night," he said as he counted in his head to confirm.

Grayson had a bottle in the morning with Caroline, a bottle at lunch, a bottle after he returned from daycare , one before bed, and then another if he woke up through the night.

Realizing that he was responsible for most of these feedings on any given day didn't fill him with resentment towards Caroline; rather, he felt a sense of accomplishment or fulfillment.

"Grayson eats solids three times a day: breakfast, lunch, and dinner," he added, "and he naps once in the morning and once in the afternoon."

Though in practice, it didn't seem like it, by reciting Grayson's daily activities, they had somehow worked themselves into a routine that worked for the three of them.

Once they were done inspecting Grayson's nursery, they took a moment to look in on the bathroom before stepping back out into the hallway and pausing in front of Elijah and Elena's bedroom door.

"That's Elijah and Elena's room. You can take a look around, but we don't really go in there," Caroline said warily.

The two caseworkers nodded, opening the door and taking a brief look inside the room and then taking a few notes.

He wondered what kind of notes they could possibly be taking on Elijah and Elena's bedroom. How were they relevant to the interview, or the case for that matter?

Backtracking down the hall to the opposite end of the second floor, they stopped at Caroline's bedroom.

"This is my room," Caroline informed them as she stepped aside so the caseworkers could enter, but they halted in the doorway and looked confused.

"You two don't sleep in the same room?" the female caseworker wondered.

Both of their faces scrunched up instantly at the question.

"We don't share a room," he replied quickly.

"We're not together," Caroline followed up, shaking her head assuredly.

Flustered, the caseworkers looked down at their notes.

"Our apologies," the female caseworker sighed. "In every case I've had like this, the two people have always been a couple. There is nothing in your file to indicate otherwise, save for your differing addresses, but we assumed that perhaps you were in a long-distance relationship prior to this."

They shook their heads and the caseworkers took a few more notes.

Was it better or worse for them to be together in terms of their chances of securing permanent custody of Grayson?

"Does that make a difference?" Caroline said, speaking his mind.

Both caseworkers appeared reluctant to answer.

"It's difficult to say, and ultimately the decision rests with the judge," the male caseworker said cryptically.

"Have you two ever been in an intimate relationship before?" the female caseworker asked.

His jaw clenched in response to the question.

"No," they both answered in unison, looking at one another.

Technically speaking they weren't lying since they really weren't in a relationship when they were intimate.

Both caseworkers gave them questioning glances before returning to their notepads.

After they were done in Caroline's room, they took a look in Elijah's office - which was doubling as his room. The room was nowhere as tidy as Caroline's.

"Do you smoke?" the female caseworker asked, pointing to a nearly empty pack of cigarettes on Elijah's desk.

Of course, as if the interview wasn't already going badly enough.

"I'm trying to quit," he explained. "I've had that same pack for the last two weeks."

"He never smokes around Grayson, though," Caroline piped up in his defence, although her eyes suggested she wanted to stab him with little knives all over his body. "And he never smokes inside the house."

He sighed in defeat as they took more notes.

When they left the room, both caseworkers paused at the edge of the stairs.

"Is Grayson crawling independently yet?" the male caseworker asked.

They both looked at the open stairwell unobstructed by the presence of baby gates.

"He's trying, but not quite yet," Caroline lied, omitting the fact that Grayson had crawled all the way across the family room earlier when they had been preoccupied by one another.

"The paint on the floor downstairs?" the female caseworker asked suspiciously.

Caroline looked mortified with the woman on the brink of catching her in a lie.

"That was me," he admitted. "I got paint on my feet and didn't realize it."

His response seemed to appease the woman, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Caroline giving him a small appreciative smile.

They returned downstairs after that, and the caseworkers invited them to sit at the dining room table so they could finish up the interview with another round of questions.

He placed Grayson in his highchair and prepared a bottle for him to keep him occupied. He was overdue for one but the paint he consumed had probably helped tie him over. That would probably explain his good behaviour. Grayson had been well-behaved throughout the entire interview so far. Grayson was doing better in the interview than they were it seemed

"Walking through the house, I couldn't help but notice that this is still very much Elijah and Elena's house. What do you intend to do with the house?" the male caseworker wondered, as he sat down beside his co-worker at the dining table across from Caroline.

"We are still mourning the loss of Elijah and Elena. We don't feel comfortable packing their things away, or personalizing the house yet," Caroline said somewhat defensively. "We've just been getting used to taking care of Grayson. We haven't decided what we are going to do with the house. We would like to wait to see what the outcome of our temporary guardianship period is."

"Are you in a financial position to keep it?" the female caseworker inquired.

"There is no mortgage on the house; Elena's parents owned the house before she did," Caroline explained.

"Still, there are utilities, taxes, insurance..." the male caseworker listed as a reminder."Our records indicate that you own a store here in Mystic Falls?"

"I own a store - primarily a dress store. I design and make custom dresses; we sell other off the rack clothing too. I own the apartment above it. With income from the store, and rent from the apartment, I think I could afford to maintain the house, if we decided to," Caroline said, looking to him to contribute to the discussion.

He sat down at the table and handed Grayson his bottle, just in time for the caseworkers' attention to turn onto him.

"What about you, Mr. Mikaelson? You're a painter? You paint homes and buildings for a living in New York?" the female caseworker asked.

He should have just let her believe that's what he did - it sounded more stable and reliable - but he found himself shaking his head.

"I'm an artist," he corrected her. "I paint images," he clarified.

Both caseworkers looked skeptical and unimpressed.

"How dependable is this line of work?" the female caseworker asked him critically.

He shrugged.

"It's not consistent," he confessed, "but the sporadic income is sufficient enough to afford an apartment lease in Brooklyn, and half a commercial lease in Manhattan, which myself and a friend use as a studio," he explained.

"Certainly, it's not the type of work that could get you by in Mystic Falls," the male caseworker concluded, "so you probably have plans to return to New York eventually?" he asked.

He nodded.

"Once permanent custody is hopefully granted to us in a few months, I'd like to return," he confessed honestly, despite knowing that his answer would complicate the interview for them even further.

"And how do the two of you plan to raise Grayson while one of you is here in Mystic Falls, and the other is in New York?" the female caseworker interrogated.

"We haven't really talked specifics yet," Caroline admitted. "We would probably split Grayson's time between both places: a few months here, a few months there," she said.

"Do you think that sort of instability could be potentially harmful? What about when he reaches school age?" the male caseworker asked.

He was feeling backed into a corner now, and he could tell by the contorted expression on Caroline's face that she felt the same.

"The split time would be for the next three or four years. After that, we would have to decide where he would live more permanently to attend school," he piped up.

"It would depend upon our schedules and the quality of schools," Caroline added, hopefully improving his response.

"I don't see how splitting his time between New York and Mystic Falls could be harmful to him. It's not like a divorce where a family is together one day, and separated the next, often under difficult circumstances," he argued.

"He'll never feel like something is being taken away from him, because this is all he'll ever know. Living in two places could be an enriching experience for him. Elijah and Elena wouldn't have listed us both if they thought it could be detrimental for Grayson," Caroline reasoned. "Also, there's no animosity between Klaus and I. Grayson will never feel like our separation was the result of a hostile falling out, or that he's a pawn in some passive aggressive game between us."

The caseworkers took a few minutes to scribble down some notes with respect to their responses.

"You seem very confident that you and Mr. Mikaelson can remain on good terms. Could you describe the nature of your relationship and perhaps where that confidence comes from?" the female caseworker urged Caroline.

Caroline was rendered speechless for a moment, confronted by a question that had obviously stumped her. They weren't best friends by any means, they didn't know each other well prior to Elijah and Elena's accident, and in the past month they had some pretty intense confrontations.

"Initially, it was difficult to adjust to our new situation - especially due to the circumstances - but we talked things out and compromised. We came up with a schedule and routine that worked for all three of us. Respecting that schedule and each other has made things easier," Caroline confessed. "We've become good friends," she added, looking to him for confirmation.

The caseworkers looked to him as well.

"Would you agree with that assessment, Mr. Mikaelson? Is there anything you would like to add?" the female caseworker queried.

He paused for a moment, trying to come up with something intelligent to say.

"We might have our differences or disagreements, but ultimately both of us are motivated by the same thing: Grayson's well-being. That will never change, and it will ensure we stay on good terms. Elijah and Elena thought we were what was best for Grayson. Us raising Grayson jointly is integral to his well-being. We're committed to making this work together because of that," he concluded.

Caroline gave him a small smile of encouragement as the caseworkers recorded his response.

"So where do you think the both of you will be in five years?" the female caseworker asked them.

Before he returned to Mystic Falls he barely thought about where he'd be in a month let alone in five years. In five years, he'd be into his thirties. Grayson would be five and in kindergarten.

They looked at him first.

"I'll be in New York, still. I hope by then to have most of my income coming from my original artwork. I hope to be able to afford my own place then - perhaps in Brooklyn, in a good neighbourhood for Grayson," he answered.

The attention was turned onto Caroline.

"I think I'd like to stay in this house for Grayson. I want him to feel connected to his parents," she revealed. "I hope in five years I'll be able to focus my store primarily on my own dresses and commissioned work. I'd like to think by then I'd at least be considering marriage and more children."

Her mention of marriage and children took him by surprise. He couldn't imagine Caroline married to someone in five years and expecting a baby. It made him uncomfortable.

"'More children'?" the female caseworker asked. "So, you consider Grayson your child?"

He could tell Caroline was debating about which response would be the best received.

"Well, Grayson is, or will hopefully be, our child," Caroline replied, glancing at him quickly before looking back to the caseworkers.

"What would Grayson come to know the two of you as? Mommy and daddy? How will his deceased parents factor into his life?" the male caseworker asked.

This wasn't a topic he and Caroline had really discussed. It was one of those awkward conversations to be avoided for a while, lest their recent wounds be ripped open by the sensitive subject matter, but now they were being forced to answer.

"Grayson will always know that Elijah and Elena are his parents," he said decisively. "Plus, I'm sure if we didn't tell him he'd figure it out easily enough on his own eventually anyways."

Though he didn't know how Caroline felt about the subject, it was something he believed strongly in. He wasn't going to lie to Grayson as he got older until he was smart enough to figure it out on his own. That had been the way his parents had raised him, and he resented them for it.

"He deserves to grow up knowing the great people they were," Caroline added. "As for what Grayson will know us as, given how recent the accident was and the temporary state of our guardianship of Grayson at the moment, referring to ourselves as his parents, or his mommy and daddy, might be a little premature," Caroline clarified.

"What about in the future?" the female caseworker asked.

"We'll be the only people Grayson will really know as his parents," he said.

No matter how many times he told himself that, it still hit him like a tonne of bricks.

"You don't think that will be confusing for him?" the female caseworker asked.

"Lots of kids have more than two parents. I don't think it will be an issue," he shrugged defensively.

"What Klaus means to say," Caroline interjected in a softer tone, "is that Grayson will know us as his parents, as well as Elijah and Elena. As he gets older and is able to understand things better, we'll share more of the details with him," she said.

The caseworkers didn't look up from their notes as they continued to write.

He and Caroline sat there awkwardly, both hoping that this interview was at its end.

Grayson was beginning to think the same thing as he started to get antsy in his highchair, kicking his feet and releasing little annoyed whimpers.

The male caseworker eyed the clock in the kitchen.

"I think that's about all we have to cover today," he said to them.

He fought to contain his elation.

The female caseworker looked up and nodded in agreement.

"Yes, we should get back to the office," she stated, as both she and the male caseworker stood up from their chairs.

He and Caroline politely followed suit.

"Thank you for your time and your cooperation," the male caseworker said. "A summary of this interview will be submitted on behalf of your case as consideration for the judge when it comes time for her to make a decision regarding permanent custody."

"Will we get a copy of that summary?" He wondered curiously.

"No, the summary is meant strictly for the court to reach a decision," the male caseworker replied.

"Your second interview will be in the next month or two," the female caseworker informed them.

"Thanks," Caroline said, picking up Grayson from his highchair.

After they signed off on the interview to confirm its legitimacy, they saw both of the caseworkers out the front door.

He shut the door quickly, falling back against it with a defeated thud.

Caroline was leaning against the entrance to the living room with Grayson.

They both released audible exhales of relief, despite the persistent looks of apprehension on both of their faces.

---

Once the caseworkers left, she and Klaus drifted their separate ways in the house.

While Klaus had stayed downstairs to clean up the mess in both the kitchen and the family room, she had Grayson upstairs to wash off the abstract rainbow he had painted on his body.

She tried to tell herself that she and Klaus weren't purposely avoiding one another - that circumstances necessitated their separation - but the awkward tension that had been there prior to the CPS interview lingered after it was over. Even with Grayson as a buffer, it was suffocating.

They both knew how close they had come to crossing the line earlier.

Whether she was avoiding him because she was scared that another opportunity would present itself for that line to be crossed, or she was afraid that he would say something, she couldn't be sure.

As she stared into the bathroom mirror to appraise her appearance for her night out, she felt herself skimming her cheek - where he had touched her so delicately - with her forefinger.

Shivers ran down her spine at the first thoughts of their bodies pressed so closely together and their eyes fixed upon one another's.

She winced and scolded herself for even letting herself think about it.

Having heard Stefan and Meredith arrive a few minutes ago, she quickly preoccupied herself by putting the final touches on her appearance. She had been running late after the paint fight and impromptu visit from CPS.

Luckily, her hair decided to be cooperative, allowing her to work it into loose curls that looked just unrefined enough for seeing a live band at the Grill. Her eyes were silver and black, playing up the colours of her outfit. She didn't usually go that dark, but it was appropriate. Plus, she had been dying for an excuse to use the dark pallet of eye shadows she had picked up on a shopping trip with Elena at the end of last summer, just before Grayson was born.

She put on a bit of pink lip gloss and a tiny bit of perfume once she was convinced that she looked acceptable.

Before she headed downstairs, she stopped in at Grayson's room, slipping through the door that was open slightly to ensure that he was fast asleep. He hadn't stayed awake much longer after CPS had left. She bathed him and fed him some dinner, but the excitement from the day's activities had taken a toll on him. He turned into a bit of a fussy grump until she took him upstairs and read to him. He was out like a light in minutes.

She whispered another goodnight to him before tip-toeing out of the room.

Grabbing both her purse and heels that were sitting by the edge of the stairwell so she wouldn't forget, she descended the stairs slowly, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place downstairs in the living room.

"...It just felt like everything we said to them was the wrong answer," she heard Klaus say.

"There is no single right answer," Stefan answered.

"They just seemed so impersonal and unimpressed. They barely acknowledged Grayson," Klaus sighed.

"That's how they're supposed to act. They're supposed to convey the impression of professional objectivity," Meredith piped up.

"They just seemed cold and annoyed," Klaus complained.

"A lot of doctors forget to balance their objectivity with empathy; they lack bedside manner. The caseworkers are probably similar," Meredith assured him.

"I don't think they liked us," Klaus concluded.

"How does Caroline feel about the interview?" Stefan wondered.

She took that as her cue to continue descending the stairs.

"I think Caroline..."

Klaus paused as he made eye contact with her from the living room.

The look mirrored the penetrating gaze he had bestowed upon her earlier.

Klaus stammered for a moment as he tried to find his way back to what he was saying before she appeared.

She turned her attention towards Stefan and Meredith in an attempt to avoid the way Klaus was seemingly drinking her in with his eyes.

"Why don't you ask her yourself," Klaus shrugged amusedly, "now that she's finally decided to emerge from the bathroom," he teased.

She scoffed.

"Sorry, for making you wait," she apologized to Meredith. "It wouldn't have taken me so long if I didn't have to have a second shower to wash the dried paint out of my hair," she reasoned as she entered the living room.

Klaus shrugged his shoulders innocently.

"You brought that on yourself, love," he replied.

Her jaw went slack in unimpressed surprise.

"I did not! You're the one who..."

She paused, reminding herself that Stefan and Meredith were in the room, both eyeing them curiously.

"Paint?" Stefan questioned.

"Klaus bought some edible paints for Grayson. Thanks to Klaus, and Grayson, I think more of it ended up on me than the paper," she groaned.

Stefan smirked and looked at Klaus, who held his hands up in defence.

"Was this before, or after the CPS visit?" Meredith asked.

"This was before," she replied. "Oh! And Grayson decided he wanted to start crawling in the midst of the activity."

A shocked expression appeared on Meredith's face.

"He's started to crawl?" Meredith confirmed excitedly.

She nodded.

"Yeah, so not only was the interview difficult enough on its own, the floor was covered in paint and we did the interview covered in paint - well, they were nice enough to give us a few minutes to wash our faces off. I'm sure we looked like stellar parents," she sighed.

"They could look favourably upon the fact that you're engaging Grayson like that," Meredith pointed out.

Both she and Klaus confronted Meredith with incredulous stares.

"They didn't look very favourable," Klaus muttered.

"Well, you can't dwell on it now. It's over," Stefan recommended. "The fact that you were both listed as guardians of Grayson in Elijah and Elena's will is huge, and will trump any minor slip ups in your interviews," Stefan assured them.

"But it won't necessarily trump certain individuals who might contest the arrangement," Klaus replied negatively.

She frowned at his pessimism before her cell phone began to vibrate in her purse.

"Camille must be out front," she declared, attempting to put on her heels standing up.

Meredith rose from the sofa enthusiastically.

It was unusual to see Meredith dressed up to go out, but she looked great in a pair of skinny blue jeans, a lacy white tank top, and black blazer.

"I'm so ready for this," Meredith said, following her into the hall to put on her leather boots.

Both Stefan and Klaus entered behind them.

"Don't get too drunk tonight," Stefan warned Meredith humorously.

"Just buzzed enough to feel like playing doctor for Stefan when you get home," Klaus interrupted jokingly.

Meredith's cheeks went red.

"You told him about that!?" Meredith gasped disapprovingly at Stefan.

Klaus snickered and she couldn't help but laugh too.

Stefan shot an annoyed glare in Klaus's direction.

"Thanks, Klaus," Stefan said sarcastically. "You ruined it for me."

"He was bragging. Take it as a compliment," Klaus assured Meredith, trying to smooth over the situation for Stefan.

Meredith's initial embarrassment began to fade and her frustrated expression relaxed slightly.

"Maybe if I'm buzzed enough later tonight, I'll forget about this humiliating conversation," Meredith hinted suggestively as she closed in on Stefan and kissed him in the same evocative manner.

She and Klaus were left stare at one another awkwardly on either side of Meredith and Stefan's embrace.

Glancing away from Klaus's direction, she heard him scoff.

"Perhaps you two should just head home now?" Klaus suggested.

Meredith shook her head as she pulled away from Stefan.

"I haven't had a girl's night out in ages. Stefan can wait," Meredith declared.

She smirked at Meredith's determination and followed Meredith to the front door.

"Besides, he has you while I'm gone," Meredith teased Klaus.

Klaus's face scrunched up in disgusted as he glanced at Stefan.

"I don't play doctor, mate," he laughed.

Both she and Meredith chuckled while Stefan rolled his eyes.

"See you later tonight. Don't be too loud," she warned, pointing upstairs. "You wouldn't want to wake Grayson up. If anything goes wrong, call my cell."

"Have a drink for me, love," Klaus said to her, disregarding her concerns as he opened the door for her and Meredith.

"She'll be having plenty more than one," Meredith beamed, nudging her out the door.

---

She slammed her empty shot glass down on the table triumphantly. It had been her third tequila shot that night and she had already polished off a fruity drink prior to that.

The alcohol was warming her body and she already felt like she was walking on a cloud.

Camille set her empty shot glass down in defeat while Meredith hadn't even touched hers.

"We can't keep up to you, Boss," Camille conceded.

She stuck her tongue out at them and motioned to the waitress - who thankfully wasn't Vicki - to bring them some more.

"I think you're going to be drinking those on your own," Meredith said, shaking her head as she rubbed her stomach.

She groaned.

"You guys are so lame," she criticized. "I thought we were supposed to get drunk tonight and let loose?"

"We are. We just can't drink as fast as you," Meredith laughed.

Shrugging, she helped herself to Meredith's shot.

The alcohol burned, but it was a good burn. She could feel the stress rolling off her shoulders with every drink.

That, coupled with the girl talk and music, was allowing her to gave a great time.

She had only checked her cell phone for any texts from Klaus once in the past fifteen minutes.

"I thought you said we were going to hit on the lead singer tonight, Camille?" she teased, glancing towards the stage where the female singer's rough but talented voice belted along with the band.

Camille shrugged with a smirk.

"Hey, I didn't know she was going to be a she," Camille admitted. "The guitarist is pretty sexy though," she pointed out.

She nodded passively in agreement as she focused upon the guy with shaggy brown hair, a ripped t-shirt and jeans.

"You should go flirt with him after their set," Camille urged her.

Shaking her head, she laughed incredulously at Camille's suggestion.

"You would want to see me make an ass out of myself," she argued, finding herself slurring her words a bit. "I'd never live that down at work. Plus, I look terrible," she protested.

Meredith scoffed.

"Are you kidding me, Caroline? You look gorgeous," Meredith told her. "I think every guy in this bar has checked you out tonight. Klaus checked you out before we left, and even my husband took a second look," she mused.

Even the very mention of Klaus checking her out sent butterflies whirring around in her stomach.

She rolled her eyes.

"Klaus did not check me out," she denied flatly.

Meredith smirked.

"I'm surprised all he's done is check you out," Camille laughed. "I don't understand how you haven't had your way with him yet. That accent is incredible," she groaned suggestively.

Her cheeks flushed red, but were easily concealed by the fact that her face was already hot from the still air and alcohol.

"He could recite the phonebook and I'd probably orgasm," Camille joked. "How can you live under the same roof with him and not climb him like a tree? Your willpower is incredible."

She laughed nervously, but shook her head.

"It's not like that between us," she denied. "Things are strictly platonic."

"I get the whole Grayson thing; I respect that, but you can't tell me you haven't gotten yourself off to naughty thoughts about him," Camille stated.

If she had alcohol in her mouth, it probably would have been spit half way across the table.

"I haven't," she lied, knowing full well the numerous times he entered her mind as she was on the verge of bringing herself to climax.

Even just the image of his suggestive eyes and sexy smirk were enough to tip her over the edge some nights.

Both Meredith and Camille were eyeing her suspiciously.

"Or maybe you haven't because your mind has been occupied by a certain dark-haired blue-eyed doctor," Camille grinned.

She smiled sheepishly in an attempt to throw them off.

"Damon tells me he's your date to the masquerade fundraiser," Meredith said, almost looking at her warningly.

"He is, but we're going as friends," she assured them both.

Camille scowled.

"You're never going to get laid if you keep thinking like that," Camille complained.

This had been a topic of conversation she and Camille commiserated over frequently.

"Well you're never going to get laid if you keep passing lead guitarists off to me," she retorted, nodding towards the guitarist who was lost in a riff.

Camille threw her hands up in defeat with a loud huff.

"I've given up all hope for myself," Camille said dramatically. "I don't think I'm ever going to find a decent guy who will want to have sex with me again. I blame it on my ex. He doomed me forever."

She laughed at Camille's joking desperation.

"It's been a week since Stefan and I last had sex," Meredith sighed disappointedly.

Both she and Camille looked at Meredith in disbelief.

"You don't get to complain," she chucked.

"A week is nothing!" Camille sighed.

"It is when you have your hot boyfriend beside you taunting you, but for whatever reason the sex just isn't happening, whether it's conflicting schedules or incompatible moods," Meredith countered. "Twelve hour work days and shift work aren't exactly helpful, either. Stefan and I barely see each other some weeks when I'm on nights."

"How does that even work?" she inquired nosily, losing her filter as the alcohol began to hit her harder.

"Sometimes you have to improvise," Meredith shrugged with a devious grin.

"You can't leave us hanging without explaining what you mean by 'improvising'?" Camille urged.

Meredith's smile grew wider.

"Well last week for example, I was just coming home from work and Stefan was just getting ready. We had failed to cross paths that entire week, so I came home that morning determined to see him off before he left," Meredith said playfully.

She and Camille giggled immaturely.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I stripped down to my bra and panties and wandered innocently into our bathroom. He was just finishing shaving, so while he was occupied I ran my hands and lips over his bare back. He was annoyed at first, but his protests quickly stopped when I dipped my hand inside his pants and told him how badly I had been aching all week for him to fuck me," Meredith revealed.

They gasped at Meredith's story.

"He took me right there on the counter top and once more in the shower," Meredith sighed contentedly.

Camille was fanning herself.

"Do you and Stefan really play doctor?" she blurted out, curious about what Klaus had mentioned earlier.

The most role-playing she had ever done was show off a few pieces of lingerie for Tyler, but he had never really took the time to appreciate it; the articles of clothing were always on the floor in ten seconds or less. Tyler was always in a hurry, it seemed, but she had never stopped him because she didn't know that it could be any other way.

Camille's eyes lit up with her question.

"Sometimes I bring my work home with me, yes," Meredith replied discreetly.

"I need a relationship like that," Camille bemoaned.

"It's not always like that," Meredith warned seriously. "You've both been in relationships. You know that they're work, right Caroline?" she heard Meredith ask.

Snapping out of guilty thoughts of Klaus bending her over the bathroom counter and fucking her as she pretended to be his naughty patient, she nodded quickly, and grabbed one of the shots the waitress was just about to set down at their table.

Not even a half hour later, she found herself alone in a crowd of people dancing to the music in front of the impromptu stage that had been set up for the band.

Meredith and Camille had opted to stay behind with their drinks.

Her head was spinning delightfully as she moved her hips to the rock beat.

Eventually, Camille and Meredith made up their minds to finally join and enjoy the music alongside her.

She made eye contact with the cute guitarist Camille had pointed out to her earlier, and apparently that was all the encouragement she needed.

"I'm going to get on stage!" she announced.

Her drunken self encouraged her to move towards the steps of the stage, while a small sober voice inside of her told her she was insane.

She climbed on stage long enough to rock out beside the guitarist and humiliate her sober self before Camille was pulling her back down.

"Boss, I don't think you're part of the show," Camille chuckled over the music.

"I just wanted to dance," she protested bitterly, breaking free from Camille's grasp and heading for the bar.

When she stumbled up to the bar, she was confronted by Vicki, who was watching her amusedly.

She hadn't even seen Vicki all night. She had thought tonight might be a night off for her. She was wrong.

"Having a good time?" Vicki smirked sarcastically.

"I was," she sneered.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Vicki asked coldly.

"Rum and coke," she ordered, deciding she should probably lay off the straight liquor shots for the remainder of the evening.

"So where's your boyfriend tonight?" Vicki asked resentfully, clearly referring to Klaus.

"Uh, Klaus isn't my boyfriend," she replied, grabbing her drink from Vicki and tossing some of her change onto the bar top.

"Could have fooled me," Vicki shrugged challengingly.

She took a quick swig of her drink and gave Vicki a critical stare.

"You're just pissed off because he isn't your boyfriend. I get it," she said. "He doesn't want you. Especially after you showed up on our porch after midnight like a crazy woman and nearly woke up our...Grayson," she stammered.

Vicki arched her eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip.

"Now that's the pot calling the kettle black. You're calling me crazy? You just tried to dance on stage," Vicki snorted.

"Well at least I have alcohol as my excuse. What do you have?" she countered.

"For someone who acts like they care so much about a child, you have a funny way of showing it," Vicki lambasted her. "Shouldn't you be at home singing nursery rhymes instead of pounding back shots here at the Grill?" Vicki spat.

That was the last straw for her. Vicki's self-righteousness and double standards were intolerable. Her anger boiled over before she even had a chance to contain it.

"Fuck you," she hissed, tossing the remainder of her drink in Vicki's face.

Suddenly, she felt two strong arms pulling her away from the bar as Camille and Meredith rushed to the scene.

"Get her out of here, Matt!" Vicki shouted.

She pried her eyes away from Vicki's soaked face and shirt to see Matt, Vicki's brother and owner of the Grill, behind her.

"Let me go!" she protested through random fits of drunken laughter.

"Whoa, whoa," Matt said, "settle down."

"What happened!?" Meredith asked mortified as she and Camille followed her and Matt off to the side of the bar.

"Vicki wasn't minding her own damn business," she slurred to Meredith and Camille as she tried to free herself. "Matt, my knight in shining armour, stepped in to rescue me," she said laughingly. "I think Matt is the fucking sexiest guy in the bar tonight," she stammered, not even realizing what she was saying nor caring that Matt was standing right behind her.

She struggled some more as Matt turned her around to face him.

He was obviously trying to hide a smirk in regards to her previous comments.

"Look, I know you have issues with my sister because of what happened with her and Klaus, but you can't act like that in here," Matt said, almost sounding sympathetic. "You can't disturb the band or harass employees, no matter who they are."

"We're so sorry," Camille apologized. "We'll keep a better eye on her, and no more alcohol."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Matt was already shaking his head.

"She's already had too much to drink as it is. Vicki shouldn't have even served her. I think you ladies should call it a night," Matt instructed. "I'm sorry," he finished, eyeing her apologetically.

"You're just doing your job," she smirked, stumbling against Meredith as Matt let her go. "I...understand."

Matt nodded with a wary smile.

"Feel free to come back when you're in a better frame of mind," he offered.

She snorted.

"You mean when I'm not drunk?"

"I think she's going to be too embarrassed to come back here for a while," Meredith assured Matt.

"Just make sure to get her home safely," Matt told Camille and Meredith. "Someone should keep an eye on her."

---

He handed Stefan a beer as they prepared to play another one of Elijah's old Play Station games that he had tucked away in the basement.

"I can't believe Elijah kept this," Stefan mused. "I haven't played on this console since I was probably fifteen. Even then, I really didn't get to play it since Damon hogged it all the time," Stefan chuckled.

Stefan's comment made him think about all the times he had fought over video games and other toys with his brothers. Being the only girl, Rebekah fared the best, since nobody wanted to play with her dolls or tea party sets - though they often humoured her after she whined enough and their mother had threatened them into it.

"Why am I not surprised? Has Damon ever not been a selfish ass, doing what he wants regardless of other people?" he wondered, opening his beer.

"Maybe before I was born?" Stefan shrugged jokingly, opening his own beer.

They both laughed.

"So where did you find this thing?" Stefan asked, referring to the game console.

"Kol and I were talking about it one of the first nights after...the accident...and we knew Elijah had taken it, so we took a look through the basement and found it, surprisingly," he told Stefan.

"The graphics are so basic," Stefan observed with amusement. "I don't think I ever imagined that I'd be almost thirty, drinking a beer, and playing ancient video games with you."

He shrugged as he set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him.

"There were a lot of things I didn't expect to happen before I was thirty, mate," he noted, looking towards the ceiling where Grayson had been sleeping in the room above them ever since Caroline put him down earlier.

Both he and Stefan sighed discontentedly, thinking about Elijah and Elena.

"I never imagined you with kids...ever, and to be honest, I was a little nervous when I saw your name listed as guardian of Grayson in your brother's will," Stefan admitted, "but, you've been good with him."

"Tell that to CPS, will you?" He snorted. "Perhaps we should call them back over to do their second interview. I'm sure they'd love to see me drinking beers and playing video games with my lawyer while Grayson is passed out upstairs," he joked.

Stefan smirked.

"This is your second beer over the span of a few hours, it's not like you're getting wasted. You're being responsible," Stefan encouraged.

He cringed.

"How responsible do you think Meredith and Caroline are being right now?" he wondered, discreetly checking his phone beside him for any messages from a particular blonde who had engaged him in a paint fight earlier.

"If Meredith gets into the hard liquor all bets are off," Stefan revealed.

"No Doctor Meredith for you tonight," he teased Stefan.

Stefan shoved him.

"You weren't supposed to say anything about that," Stefan complained.

"You never told me not to," he protested.

"I didn't think I had to," Stefan groaned. "You've probably ruined that for me now forever," he said bitterly.

He pouted to feign sympathy for Stefan.

"It didn't sound like she was entirely opposed to the idea when she left tonight. I'm sure Doctor Meredith will make another house call," he laughed. "Forever is a long time, mate."

"I know it is," Stefan replied seriously, in a way that unnerved him.

He pursed his lips and arched a curious eyebrow.

"Why do I suddenly get the impression that we're not just talking about your sex life with Meredith?" he laughed nervously, "That we're talking about 'forever' in a more literal sense?" he wondered.

Stefan shook his head, trying to back track the conversation and hide the shift in tone it had taken.

"Come on, mate," he cajoled. "What's going on?" he asked reluctantly, afraid to know what Stefan's response would be.

"I'm thinking of proposing to Meredith," Stefan blurted out.

His eyes widened and he paused the game.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, what are you talking about?" he asked for confirmation.

Stefan scoffed with a half smile.

"You heard what I said," Stefan replied. "I'm going to ask Meredith to marry me."

"Two seconds ago, you were thinking about proposing, now you're going to ask her?" he questioned.

Stefan shrugged.

"I bought an engagement ring last week," Stefan admitted.

His eyes bulged out even further.

"You already bought a ring? Is it refundable?" he asked.

Stefan rolled his eyes.

"Really, Klaus? I just tell you that I'm going to propose to Meredith, and one of the first things you ask me is if the ring is returnable?" Stefan asked incredulously.

"Don't get me wrong, I like Meredith, but you know how I feel about marriage, mate," he shrugged. "I mean, the two of you already signed your names to a mortgage, do you really need to sign a marriage contract too?" he queried. "It's so...permanent."

Stefan laughed.

"That's the whole idea," Stefan replied sarcastically.

He sat back against the couch and exhaled, trying to wrap his head around the fact that one of his oldest friends was going to propose to his girlfriend and journey down the path of adulthood even further. It was alarming to him. Marriage was such a big commitment, one that he had tried to convince Elijah not to make.

"When are you going to ask her?" he wondered.

Stefan shrugged.

"I was going to wait until our trip to Europe over the summer, but Meredith has always dreamed of a small wedding overseas, so I'm thinking I should ask her soon," Stefan explained.

He rolled his eyes at the cheesy romance of it all.

"Have you told Damon?" he wondered.

Stefan nodded.

"And what did Damon have to say?" he asked.

"Basically the same thing as you," Stefan chuckled. "He thinks I'm crazy, but he's all for a trip to Europe. 'As long as I'm happy,' Damon groaned," he revealed.

"Well, I suppose that's one thing Damon and I can agree on," he muttered resentfully. "As long as you're happy," he shrugged, extending his bottle of beer towards Stefan. "Cheers, mate," he said in his most congratulatory voice.

Stefan grinned and tapped the neck of his bottle against his own before they both took long sips.

"How do you know?" he inquired.

"How do I know what?" Stefan asked.

"How do you know that you want to be with the same woman for the rest of your life? How can you be so sure?" he asked curiously, having asked Elijah a very similar question.

Stefan considered his question for a moment as he anticipated his answer.

"I don't want to be with anyone else. I love her," Stefan explained. "I feel comfortable with her. I can confide in her about anything. It's ridiculous how much we have in common. I love spending time with her. She supports me. I'd do anything for her, I care about her," he continued. "When I think about my future, there's no version of it that she isn't in. She just makes me happy."

He shifted uncomfortably when he realized that he had been thinking about Caroline the entire time Stefan answered his question.

"I know I want to be with her because she thought I was worth a second chance," Stefan concluded.

Stefan and Meredith had dated casually in college, but Meredith had called things off between them, claiming Stefan wasn't committed enough and neglected her even though they both had demanding academic commitments to maintain.

He tensed at Stefan's mention of second chances and debated about continuing the conversation.

"How did you ever convince her to give you a second chance?" he sneered jokingly, trying to conceal his genuine interest.

"I spent the time," Stefan stated bluntly. "I put in the effort and made sacrifices to show her that I genuinely wanted to be with her, to show her that she could trust me. The initial apology, a bouquet of her favourite flowers, a bottle of wine, and take-out from her favourite Thai restaurant got my foot in the door, though," Stefan laughed.

He gave Stefan a half smile as he fell into pensive reflection upon what Stefan had said. Taking a long sip from his beer, he noticed Stefan eyeing him inquisitively.

"Why do I suddenly get the impression we're no longer talking about my relationship with Meredith?" Stefan questioned.

Biting his tongue to maintain his indifferent expression, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Because we're not, are we?" Stefan said.

He turned away from Stefan, grabbing his controller to resume the game.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mate," he replied.

Stefan was never one to ignore a hunch, however.

"I'm not playing the game until you tell me what's going on," Stefan protested. "This is about Caroline, isn't it?"

His neck had already snapped around to look at Stefan before he could prevent such a visceral reaction.

He shook his head and scowled.

"You don't need to lie to me. I know this about Caroline," Stefan repeated.

"Do you?" he countered.

"Who else would it be about?" Stefan challenged. "A person would have to be blind not to see the way you looked at her tonight when she came downstairs."

He felt his face grow hot at the realization that he'd been discovered. He wondered if Caroline had noticed.

How could anyone avoid looking at her though? She could have blinded anyone just by how radiant she was. Sure, she was only wearing skinny pants and a dressy tank top, but she had a particular confidence and sexiness about her tonight that he found entirely captivating; perhaps it had something to do with the curl to her hair and the dark eye makeup? He couldn't be certain, but he knew he hadn't gone a moment without thinking about her.

"She looked good," he said nonchalantly.

Stefan scoffed in disbelief.

"People don't look at other people they think look good like the way you looked at her," Stefan grimaced. "I'm glad I didn't make that bet with Damon after all. Have you and Caroline...?" Stefan asked suggestively.

"No, Stefan, we haven't had sex," he denied, although he wished he could affirm the opposite.

"Yet..." Stefan said, finishing his sentence anxiously.

He glared at Stefan in response.

"I...I just don't want you to do anything you might regret. You're both Grayson's guardians. You made it clear you didn't want anything like this to happen because you didn't want any of the potential fallout to impact him," Stefan reminded him.

"Nothing is going to happen, Stefan. Caroline isn't stupid. She would never make the same mistake with me again," he pointed out, unable to hide his regret.

Stefan's eyebrows raised knowingly as he took a sip of his own beer.

"Well, that explains your extra snarky comments about Damon tonight, and your curiosity about Meredith giving me a second chance," Stefan determined. "You want one with Caroline," he claimed. "You care about her, don't you?"

He winced at how pathetic it sounded. He winced at the truth of Stefan's conclusions. He winced because he knew no matter what he did, Caroline would never let him in again.

"Is that wrong? She is, for all intents and purposes now, Grayson's mother," he reasoned, wondering if maybe all his warm emotions towards her could simply be explained by that fact.

Stefan gave him a disappointed look.

"We both know your feelings for her run deeper than that," Stefan told him. "If you're really sure you want her to give you a second chance, the first step to earning it is admitting that to yourself before it's too late. My brother isn't exactly sitting idly by while you get your shit together," Stefan said.

He scowled at Stefan's mention of Damon.

"Neither will Caroline," Stefan warned.

He was struggling. He couldn't admit it to himself let alone to Stefan or to anyone else. There was a part of him who wanted to tell someone how relentlessly she had been plaguing his thoughts so maybe they could help him make sense of it all, but he couldn't. He was too frightened by the implications.

His attempt to divert the topic of conversation onto something else was thwarted by the front door bursting open.

Standing up instinctively, he peered through the living room to the front hall where Caroline came barging in through the doorway and Meredith followed behind, reaching for Caroline to prevent her from stumbling forwards.

"I'm home!" Caroline announced loudly.

It appeared Caroline had not been responsible tonight whatsoever.

She slinked away from Meredith's support, and walked determinedly down the hall and into the kitchen.

He followed in through the family room to find her reaching into the liquor cabinet for some of Elijah's most prized scotch.

"Let's do shots!" she decided, her fingers fumbling with the glass bottle as she tried to reach for it.

He intervened, rescuing the wobbling bottle from the shelf's edge.

"This is not meant for shots, sweetheart," he said, reaching to set the bottle on a higher shelf - securely out of Caroline's grasp.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Caroline protested, pushing him out of the way as she reached for a cheaper plastic bottle of rum.

Meredith entered the kitchen from the hall as Stefan entered behind him from the family room.

Caroline darted further into the kitchen, on the hunt for shot glasses he assumed.

It was barely after midnight, he noted, looking to the clock on the wall.

"You two are home early," he observed.

Meredith, clearly the most sober of the two of them, nodded her head towards Caroline in both amusement and annoyance as she approached Stefan.

"Yeah, because your fucking cunt girlfriend got in my face," Caroline slurred.

His eyebrows rose at Caroline's choice of language.

"I think that's two dollars in the swear jar for you, love," he mused. "And an extra fifty cents for not using your indoor voice," he added, dreading the prospect of Grayson being awoken by an intoxicated Caroline.

"Fuck you," she slurred playfully.

The three of them tried to hold back their laughter as she attempted to pour some rum into what he concluded was not a shot glass, but a tiny dessert serving cup.

"What happened tonight?" Stefan asked Meredith.

"Caroline had too much to drink," Meredith began.

"Clearly," he concluded as they watched Caroline pound back an oversized shot of rum, with much of it ending up on her face and shirt.

"She got up on stage with the band and tried to dance. Then, when we got her down, she snuck her way over to the bar where she and Vicki got into it. Caroline tossed her drink in Vicki's face. That's when Matt had to ask us to take her home," Meredith revealed.

Caroline's brazen behaviour both surprised and amused him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't impressed with how she had handled Vicki.

"I don't think I've even been kicked out of the Grill before," he thought aloud.

"Yeah, well we would still be there now if Vicki kept her fucking whore mouth closed," Caroline interceded, as she approached them shakily.

They all laughed under their breaths at the unbalanced steps she took.

"Here, have a drink, the night is still young!" she urged giddily, handing the bottle first to Meredith and Stefan, and then to him when they refused.

He shook his head and pushed the bottle away.

"Come on, Klaus, drink with me," she pleaded, nudging his cheek with the end of the bottle.

"Have at it. It's all yours," he encouraged her.

"Fine!" Caroline groaned disappointedly, bringing the bottle to her lips and proceeding to chug it like it was a refreshing glass of water.

That behaviour didn't last long before she was spitting out rum all over the floor.

He grabbed the bottle from her to prevent her from spilling anymore.

"Perhaps you should pace yourself, love? Water might be a better option?" he suggested, hiding the bottle of rum behind the dining table centrepiece, hoping she would forget about it.

"Since when did you become so boring?" Caroline complained.

"One of us has to stay sober," he told her.

She scowled and sighed with a shrug.

"Well then, how about you mix us all a drink, bartender?" she proposed, flashing him a flirty smile as she ran her index finger down his chest.

He tensed and looked at Stefan helplessly.

"Caroline, Meredith and I are gonna head home," Stefan interrupted.

Caroline's eyed them disapprovingly.

"You can't take Meredith away from me! She's mine now, Stefan!," Caroline protested, grabbing Meredith's face hastily and kissing her sloppily on the lips before they even realized what was happening.

Both his and Stefan's jaws were agape, as Meredith pulled back from Caroline's unwelcomed advance.

"Sorry, Stefan, but Meredith wants to play doctor with me," Caroline giggled, leaning in towards Meredith once more.

"Easy there, tiger," Klaus chuckled, pulling Caroline back, as Stefan still stood there in shock, and Meredith laughed in disbelief.

"I don't know whether I should be aroused, jealous, or offended," Stefan shrugged with a chuckle, as he and Meredith stepped aside to leave.

"All of you are party poopers," Caroline frowned with crossed arms as she stomped her feet behind them like a child towards the front door.

"I had an entertaining night, Caroline," Meredith said. "We'll have to go easier on the alcohol next time, though," she laughed.

"Next time, Klaus and I get to go out," Stefan reminded them.

He nodded in agreement.

"You should probably try and get her to drink some water, and maybe get her something to eat before she goes to bed," Meredith, recommended.

"I don't want water!" Caroline protested from behind them.

"Sure thing, doctor," he assured Meredith.

Stefan gave him a stern look as he opened the front door.

"Take care of her," he told him.

"I will," he said, annoyed by the slight tone in Stefan's voice that suggested he might do otherwise. "Goodnight," he told Stefan and Meredith, shutting the door as they left.

He ensured the door was locked before turning around to find that Caroline was no longer standing in the hallway behind him.

"Caroline?" he spoke curiously.

The loud smash of pots and pans alerted him to her whereabouts.

In the kitchen, he found Caroline struggling to put a variety of pots back in one of the cupboards while a single pot sat atop the stove with a box of Mac and Cheese beside it on the counter.

"What are you doing?" he questioned as she slammed the cupboard door closed.

"I'm starving!" she groaned, rubbing her stomach, stumbling towards the stove and nearly knocking the pot off when she hit the handle clumsily.

He rushed to the stove to prevent any future accidents, to find that Caroline had placed the pot on the wrong burner.

"You would have been waiting awhile for this to boil, love," he chuckled, looking beside him to find Caroline missing once more.

Sighing in exasperation, he shut off the stove and turned around.

Caroline was at the dining table with the bottle of rum in hand, having found it where he had quickly hid it from her.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" she asked.

"I'm sure," he said.

"More for me," she shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I thought you were hungry?" he questioned.

She nodded eagerly.

"I am, but you're making it for me now," she smiled mischievously.

"No, I'm not, sweetheart," he shook his head. "I think you should go to bed," he suggested.

Caroline didn't seem to like that idea.

She darted into the family room as though she was trying to escape him, bottle in hand, heels still on.

"I want to dance!" Caroline proclaimed, turning the stereo on to some hip-hop radio station.

"Caroline!" he lamented, as the unexpectedly high volume erupted throughout the house.

He prayed Grayson was a heavy sleeper tonight.

While he went for the stereo, Caroline climbed onto the sofa and began to dance to the beat.

"Don't turn it off!" she pleaded as he panicked in haste to find the power button.

Once it was found, he hit it quickly, but that didn't deter Caroline, who continued to mumble the song and dance on the sofa.

"Grayson is upstairs asleep," he reminded her, trying hopelessly to ignore the sexy sway of her hips.

"He sleeps like a log," Caroline countered. "He'll be fine."

"Your heels are going to wreck the sofa, sweetheart," he told her warningly. "Come on, get down before you hurt yourself."

Caroline scowled.

"Stop worrying! Just dance with me!" she whined, reaching down towards him.

He resisted, but took the opportunity to snatch the liquor bottle from her hand before she ended up dropping it.

Setting it on the coffee table behind them, he barely had time to react to Caroline's body falling towards him.

Caroline shrieked as he swiftly moved his arms under hers to break her minor fall from the sofa.

They both sucked in sharp breaths.

While he helped her regain her balance, she looked at him much like she had earlier in the kitchen with the paints.

He wondered if her piercing bright eyes could see right through him; it felt like they could.

"Thanks," she snorted.

Having snapped him out of the moment with her attempt at humour and the scent of liquor on her breath, he let her go.

"Whoa!" she cried as the force of his release caused her to fall backwards.

He leaned in once more, grasping her by her shoulders to steady her.

"Please, sweetheart, let me take you upstairs to bed," he pleaded with her, not realizing how his request sounded until Caroline's facial expression cracked into an immature grin as she began to giggle.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You want to take me to bed, Klaus Mikaelson?" she asked. "Well, why bother with the bed when we can just use the sofa," she smirked, bringing a hand against his chest. "Or, maybe the table?" she suggested.

His eyes widened, surprised by her advances. He recoiled and put more distance in between them.

"That's not what I meant," he claimed. "I want to help you upstairs so you can go to sleep," he clarified.

"But I don't want to sleep," she countered, with another playful smirk dancing upon her lips.

"Well, I want to sleep," he said, "and I want you to sleep."

Caroline shook her head.

"I don't think that's what you really want me to do though, is it?" she said deviously, attempting to close the gap between them.

He backed up before she could.

"Caroline, please," he urged her under his breath. "Your hangover will thank you in the morning if you go to sleep now. Grayson and I will both thank you," he joked, trying to ease the tension between them. "What can I do to convince you to go to sleep?" he wondered. "I will wake up with Grayson in the morning?" he offered. "I could make you breakfast then?" he offered. "What can I do?"

Caroline smirked.

"You could touch me?" she suggested as she went to grab his hand to demonstrate. "I want you to touch me here," she stammered, nearly placing his hand between her legs before he pulled away.

She pouted.

"Orgasms help me sleep," she shrugged innocently.

He winced as he rubbed a distressed hand over his face. It was hard not to imagine touching her when she was standing in front of him asking him to.

"Well then feel free to touch yourself once I help you to bed and leave your room," he said, tugging her hand in an attempt to get her to go upstairs.

"Would you like to watch me?" she snickered, freeing herself from his grasp once more, continuing their cat and mouse game.

He stifled a low groan in response to the imagery she had triggered in his mind.

There was no other way he would convince her to go upstairs anytime soon.

Surprising her, he leaned down to scoop her up over his shoulder.

She shrieked in delight.

"What the hell are you doing caveman!?" she screamed.

"I'm taking you upstairs," he stated bluntly as he started for the stairs.

"I told you! I don't want to go to bed!" she shouted, kicking her legs against his body as she struggled to free herself.

"You're not going to bed," he assured her.

"Oh?" she wondered suggestively, seeming to know exactly what he was implying.

"But only if you're a quiet good girl," he said flirtatiously, hoping for Grayson's sake Caroline would buy into his words.

"What if I'm bad?" she wondered.

He could feel his pants began to tighten.

"That's not how this game works, love," he smirked, holding her tighter as he began to ascend the stairs.

"I can be a very good girl," she assured him confidently.

He tried to focus on the task at hand, rather than the pressure between his legs.

She was quiet as he climbed the rest of the stairs and entered her bedroom.

This was a room he rarely entered.

He was hit instantly by her scent, which he could only describe as 'her.'

Once they were in the room, he let her down.

While she tried to overcome the vertigo she must have received from the journey, he shut her door behind him.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she admitted, sauntering towards him shakily, though trying to be seductive. "This is so wrong," she chuckled, stopping about two feet in front of him. "But, I'm tired of fighting it."

He wondered if her sober self felt the same way. Was Caroline fighting her feelings for him?

She stepped closer to him, playing with the hem of the Henley he was wearing.

"I miss the way you felt inside of me," she revealed semi-coherently. "I miss the way you could make me come," she confessed, lifting his shirt slightly with her hands.

He shuddered pleasurably at her salacious admissions. He missed those things more than he would care to admit, probably more than she did herself.

When he felt her fingertips brush against the skin of his abdomen, he was brought to his senses.

He grabbed her wrists and pushed her hands away as she attempted to lean in even closer to him.

"No, Caroline," he protested.

Her expression dropped as she stumbled back.

"This is what I want...I thought this is what you wanted? You told me if I was a good girl..." she began to stammer angrily.

He shook his head.

"It's not a big deal; we've done it before," Caroline argued. "I promise I won't get feelings for you this time," she reasoned.

Mention of her feelings took him off guard. To what extent did her feelings go? Her intoxicated state prevented him from deciphering the truth. Was the alcohol making her less inhibited with her true thoughts, or was it merely helping her to fabricate lies to taunt him with?

"I don't want this, Caroline," he told her. "You're drunk; you need to go to bed," he explained to her.

She glared at him.

"Fine, I'll undress myself then," she decided determinedly, lifting up the shiny black shirt she was wearing.

He sucked in a breath, trying hard to avoid looking at her exposed torso as she struggled to pull the shirt over her head.

"Love, put your shirt back on," he asked her, looking away as he cursed himself for letting his eyes roam over the purple and black bra she had on underneath.

"No!" she said, ending the fight with her shirt and throwing it on the floor between them.

He leaned down and picked up the shirt, trying to hand it back to her, but she refused by crossing her arms.

"I want this," she restated, almost vulnerably, as she dropped her arms to her sides. "Please," she demanded.

"We can't. I won't take advantage of you," he said, turning his back on her towards the dresser. "Let me find you something to wear to bed."

He opened the first drawer frantically, only to find a pile of her undergarments staring back at him. Clenching his eyes shut in humiliation, he went for the next drawer.

"Would you, if I was sober?" she asked. "Would you fuck me if I was sober?"

Cringing at her vulgarity, he shut the drawer, pausing for a moment to consider the response he would give to her.

Before he could say anything, he heard her release a sickly groan from behind him.

Turning around, he found her holding her stomach.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" he wondered worriedly.

She looked pale all of the sudden as she began to shake her head.

"I don't feel so..."

She began to heave, a bit of bile escaped her mouth before she could suppress it with her hand. It ran down her neck as she ran for the bathroom.

He heard the toilet seat slam against the tank proceeded by the noise of her ridding her stomach of the alcohol she had consumed that night.

This kind of situation was not unfamiliar to him. He had been in it many times before with his mates and brothers after long nights at the pub. He could handle the sound and sight of vomit - he had also been caring for a seven month old after all - but for some reason he had this unexplained trepidation when it came to Caroline.

Shrugging it off, he stepped into the bathroom cautiously to find Caroline practically draped over the toilet as though it was her only means of support.

He couldn't see her face for her hair covered her completely.

"Caroline?" he asked, ensuring the door to Grayson's room was completely closed.

Somehow the little guy had managed to stay asleep throughout Caroline's drunken episode.

"Ugh," she moaned before beginning to heave once more.

Falling to his knees beside her, he quickly gathered up her golden hair and tucked it against the back of her neck, sparing it from harm's way.

As she continued to experience several bouts of sickness, he realized that his free hand had been stroking her back absently.

He dropped his hand from her silky skin and waited for her stomach to calm.

After a few minutes, when she was sure the storm had passed, Caroline lifted her head from the toilet.

He dropped her hair and gave her some space as she sat back on the bathroom tile.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was whimpering under her breath.

She sniffled and laughed as he stood to get her a wet cloth.

"I always cry when I get sick," she admitted, taking the cloth from him to clean up. "You must think I'm pathetic."

He shook his head.

"Everyone goes a little overboard now and then, sweetheart," he reassured her with a small chuckle. "If anyone deserves to go a little overboard, it's you. We've both been under a lot of stress lately," he reminded her.

She handed him back the cloth and he tossed in the sink.

"How about we get you in bed, hmm?" he suggested in hopes that spilling her guts had changed her mind on the idea.

He extended his hand to help her up and sighed in relief when she accepted it.

Clearly still inebriated as she staggered towards the doorway into her bedroom, he caught her arm, putting it across his shoulders to help her walk to the bed.

She slumped down on the edge of the bed.

"What do you need for bed?" he asked, wandering back over to the dresser.

"Second drawer," she said, thinking about it for a moment, "there should be pyjamas there," she told him.

He looked in the drawer, seeing a variety of neatly folded tank tops and t-shirts, along with comfortable pants and shorts for sleeping.

Hastily, he grabbed a pair of pink plaid shorts and a grey tank top, unsure if his selection would be sufficient or not.

Caroline was leaned over herself, trying to pull her heels off.

"Do you want me to help you?" he offered, setting the clothes beside her.

She sighed in defeat and nodded.

"I'm surprised you're still wearing these and haven't broken an ankle yet," he joked as he crouched down to slip them off her feet.

A laugh escaped her lips.

"Well, I can't get them off," she shrugged.

He smirked up at her before standing, unsure of what he should do next.

Caroline seemed to answer that question for him when she leaned back to undo her pants.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

"Have you noticed how tight these pants are? There's no way I'm getting out of them without your help," she stammered, attempting to lift her bottom from the mattress to pull her pants out from underneath.

Of course he had noticed how tight her pants were, he thought to himself passively.

He reminded himself of Caroline's current predicament and that seemed to prevent his mind from going into sexual overdrive at the sight of her in nothing but her bra and underwear as he slid her pants down her thighs. He opted to pull them down the rest of the way by the ankles as it was easier and felt less intimate.

When she pulled her bra straps down, he turned to the side anxiously, looking away as his voice got caught in his throat.

Indeed, Caroline was still very much intoxicated, he confirmed.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," she scoffed jovially.

"Uh, um, I'll go get you a glass of water," he decided, making his way towards the door before she could say anything else.

Before he returned to Caroline's room with her water, he ensured all the lights were off downstairs, and made sure to bring Grayson's monitor upstairs to his room. Caroline would definitely not be getting up with him in the morning as she usually did.

Back in Caroline's room, he found that she had managed to climb under the covers. She was lying on her side, facing the door, still seemingly awake.

He offered her the water, which she chugged half of, before handing it back to him.

"I'll leave it on the nightstand," he told her before turning back to head to his own room.

She grabbed his hand before he could walk away, the soft touch of her fingertips sending shivers down his spine.

"Will you stay?" she asked, looking up at him meekly.

He hesitated.

"Just until I fall asleep?" she clarified. "My stomach still feels funny," she grumbled.

It wasn't in his nature to refuse her innocent request.

Shimmying back under the blankets, she made room for him to sit.

He sat facing her, one leg tucked underneath him, while the other remained on the floor, reluctant to get too close.

She pulled the top comforter over her shoulders and closed her eyes.

"Are you still going to make me breakfast in the morning?" she wondered, releasing a small yawn.

"How are you even thinking of breakfast?" he asked incredulously.

With her eyes still closed, she shrugged.

"What would you like?" he inquired.

"Bacon, toast, omelettes, hash browns, pancakes, boiled eggs, waffles, sausage, ham, bacon, toast, peanut butter, jam," she listed to his amusement.

"Okay, but only if you promise to eat it all," he chuckled.

"I will," she reassured him, appearing to be on the verge of sleep.

He went quiet for a few minutes to see if she would drift off. There was something calming to him about the sight of her falling asleep.

"Klaus?" she murmured abruptly.

"Hmm?" he asked her.

"Why did you leave that night?" she asked.

Her question surprised and perplexed him, until he realized that she wasn't talking about a recent time; she was talking about a year ago; that was the only conclusion that made any sense.

He felt his chest constrict as he swallowed hard.

"Why don't you want me? Am I not good enough for you?" she whispered faintly, in and out of consciousness.

When she didn't press him for an answer after awhile, he knew she had probably fallen asleep before he could muster an answer.

He looked down at her angelic features and frowned guiltily.

"Because I'm a cowardly fool and you scare me to death," he confessed under his breath. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything," he sighed as he brushed a few loose strands of her hair away from her face, "but I'm not good enough for you, sweetheart."

---

A/N: So, what did you think of CPS and Caroline's drunken episode?

My plan for the next chapter is tentative, but Klaus and Caroline will take a trip down memory lane, and that trip will encourage them to open up to one another a little more.