A grinning Sybil smiled to herself as she peeked in the envelope again after picking it up from her dresser. It was a ticket to the opera! She was going to the opera! It had come in the mail and with a card that had no signature, just an explanation that she was receiving two opera tickets and that it was hoped she would have a nice evening.

"That's very generous of the Council," she said to herself. "To give everyone who came back a nice treat like that. I could use a nice night out after everything. I mean, nicer than that so called 'date' Malachai took me on to the restaurant!"

And not just him, but Mikael Mikaelson as well. She sighed and lay back on her bed with a grin on her lips. He wouldn't be in her thoughts at all. She heard a beep and sat up.

"Damn him!" She yelled. He was sending her messages again. She hadn't answered any from before...but she knew for a fact that he refused to take hints. What a jerk! She hoped that her ignoring him would make him miserable. That he would go hang himself. He could do that and she wouldn't care one bit! She would have a nice night at the opera in a lovely pink dress and that was that. He wouldn't be on her mind at all!

"Thank you, ma'am," said the usher as Sybil presented her ticket and he ripped it in half. "I hope you enjoy the show! In the meantime, feel free to have a drink or appetizer or get a souvenir of this evening. We're so glad to have you."

Sybil smiled, getting a better grip on her silver clutch purse and shifting her weight to be more stable on her matching heels. "Thank you, I've been waiting to see La Traviata forever!"

"And you're in luck!" He smiled. "Your seat is very close to the stage. It's a wonderful ticket you have."

"It was a gift," she smiled, thanking him one more time. Then she went to look at the souvenirs and get herself a drink. Nothing too fancy, she decided. Just something simple.

Glass of white wine in hand, she sat down on a little couch in the lobby and looked over the program. This was a sad opera, but she'd heard it was a good one. And even if it was the most horrible opera in the world, she was glad to get out of the house, just as much as she had been when she'd first received the ticket.

She had just taken a sip of wine when suddenly she felt a chill go down her spine. She looked up and spit her drink out, luckily missing both the couch and her dress. Mikael Mikaelson, of all people, was approaching her. She quickly put her bag on the cushion next to her as he neared. "Nope, sorry, you can't sit here. This seat is taken."

"By what, your bag?" Mikael asked, moving it easily and sitting down.

"You know, I have to go to the bathroom," Sybil told him. "Excuse me..."

"Oh, come on," he said and took her arm as she tried to blend into the crowd. "I just got here."

"And I just had my hopes crushed for a nice peaceful evening at the opera!" Sybil snapped. "Let go of me!"

"Do you honestly think you can get away now that I've seen you?" He asked.

"Well, I can wish and hope and dream, can't I?" Sybil asked. "If only I had magic. I could make you go poof! Let go of my arm!" She repeated.

"Follow me," he ordered, pulling her into a corner and releasing her arm before giving her a smug grin. "Lovely dress. It's a shame I didn't know what color you were wearing. Or that you would even be here."

"Why? If you had would you have worn a pink dress too so we could match?" Sybil snapped.

"No, but..." He reached out and took a pink rose out of a nearby vase and handed it to her. "It would have at least given me a color of rose to put in my button hole."

Sybil scoffed and rolled her eyes. "All right, you had your caveman moment and I'll even commend you for trying to soften it by giving me a compliment, no matter how insincere it might be. Now be honest with me: what is it that you want, Mr. Mikaelson?"

He grinned. "Why do you keep asking a question you already know the answer to?" He asked. "Although it does bring my joy to repeat it each time because of the look you get on your face."

She rolled her eyes and tried to be subtle about looking him over. She had to admit that he looked very nice in his dark blue Prada suit and matching tie. They really brought out his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes...

"Were you just looking me up and down?" He asked, bringing her out of her head.

"No!" She blushed. "Don't flatter yourself!"

He got close to her, leaning down slightly to whisper in her ear. "I thought that tonight, I could be the sort of man you wouldn't mind asking for a drink after the opera." He chuckled and nibbled on her earlobe a little. "...and maybe more than that, if things go well enough. Which of course they will."

She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and tried not to inhale the smell of his aftershave more than she had to because it was doing a real number on her, making her somewhat lightheaded and unsteady. She could feel her heartbeat picking up and the last thing she wanted to do was faint in his arms.

Taking a big swig of wine, she cleared her throat, her eyes meeting his deep blue ones. "Oh, yes," she said. "I suppose you could come back to my place. Then when you least expect it," she winked and lowered her voice. "I will plunge a knife into your back and be rid of you once and for all!" She gulped down the rest of her wine, sat the empty glass down in front of the bartender and hit the bar once with her palm. "Com on," she said. "Hit me with something stronger and keep them coming!"

Mikael leaned on the counter, grinning at Sybil. "You know, what is happening between us is called 'sexual tension'."

"So, what's your point, Mikael?" She asked and down a double scotch. She then turned and stumbled on her heels but he caught her before she fell.

"You know, every time you say my name, it does something to me," he informed her.

Sybil's face scrunched up and she put a hand to her forehead, willing a headache to start so she could excuse herself. "Don't be gross," she said. "I didn't need to know that!"

"What I need to know is why you haven't answered my calls or texts!" Mikael demanded.

"Well, because I know what you were going to ask me about in those and I'm not flashing you again!" Sybil hissed. "You know, you can pay someone to do stuff like that for you. It's called an escort."

"You want me to pay you?" He asked. "How much do you charge? Name your price. It really doesn't matter to me."

"Oh, please!" She scoffed. "I don't want your money! Do you think that's charming to compare me to an escort? I need a full time job, but I don't need money that badly!" Then she turned as the bartender tapped her on the shoulder. "What?" She barked.

"Your scotch," he said, looking a little frightened and backing away. "I poured you another."

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."

"Come on, Sybil," Mikael told her, taking her hand as she tried to stride away from the bar. "You know I think more of you than that."

She shook her head. "I don't know that and I don't care. Now I would truly appreciate it if you would just leave me alone so I can enjoy my opera in peace! Goodbye, Mr. Mikaelson!" She spat in his face and strode off to find her place in the theater.

"Enjoy your evening, my dear!" He called.

"Screw you!" She called back.

Katherine, dressed in a full-length black dress with sequins and black high heeled sandals, stared out the car window, her arms crossed. She and Oliver were on a date, but she didn't feel much like talking to him.

"So..." Oliver sucked in his breath and adjusted his glasses. "Excited for the opera tonight? It's La Traviata and the cast is supposed to be very good."

"Wonderful," Katherine sighed and kept staring straight ahead.

Oliver tried again. "You know, you look lovely tonight," he said. He reached out and put a hand on her knee, but she slapped it away.

"Of course I look great," she snapped. "I always look great! I'm Katherine Pierce!"

Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, what's going on? Did I do something wrong?"

She didn't answer his question until they'd reached the opera house and parked. "I hope you weren't planning on this being a romantic evening between us," she said as he helped her out and she wiped dust off her black sequined dress. "I just...I came to the opera because I want to get things stright between us."

"Well, why didn't you just call me and say you didn't feel like going to the opera?" Oliver asked. "I would have been more than happy to talk to you over the phone."

"I could have," Katherine acknowledged, reaching out to straighten his tie because it was crooked and driving her nuts. "But this makes things even more clear. "Don't you think?"

"What do you mean by that?" Oliver asked. "Clearly I need to have it spelled out for me."

"Well, you and I..." She began.

"Oh, there's a 'you and I'?" Oliver asked, pretending to be shocked. "Really?"

"That's the thing: I don't think there is anymore," Katherine shook her head. "At least not for me; I don't think it's working out."

"I see," Oliver nodded, his jaw and the rest of his body tensing. "So...do you want me to drive you back home?"

"That's it?" She asked, her jaw dropping. "No argument? No battle?"

"Why?" Oliver shrugged. "Why should I push someone who is clearly not interested in being with me? There are many other fish in the sea. I heard of a blonde name Sybil, who's supposed to be a very sexy bombshell. It'll be nice to be able to remind myself that you're not the only attractive woman in the supernatural community. Perhaps I'll call her."

Katherine poked him in the chest. "Ask out anyone you want but you know they won't be me!"

"Maybe that's a good thing," Oliver said. "Maybe it'll be an improvement!" He was trying hard not to laugh. "Just tell me though...why are you doing this? Why are you mad at me? Is it because I don't follow your rules? Because I don't say 'how high' when you say 'jump'? Because I tell you things you don't want to hear? Like how much you miss your human life? Because you're scared to let me in and start a real relationship with me?"

"Well," she let a laugh escape her parted red lips. "I think you're giving yourself way too much credit, Oliver!" She shook her head. "You know what? Ever since you became human, I've lost interest in you. When you were a robot, you had power. Now you're just a man who couldn't do anything with his life but sleep on my couch!"

With that, Oliver quickly stopped the car. Katherine let out a cry as he undid her seat belt and pulled her into his lap, crashing his mouth on hers. She tried to pull away but she was much stronger than she had ever given him credit for, like the Hulk. They continued to make out, it getting hotter and heavier by the minute, at least until they heard a knock on the window, causing them to pull apart.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Excuse me, sir," said a valet. "Are you here for the opera?"

"Damn it," Katherine swore as she tried to free herself from Oliver's embrace and get back into her chair.

Oliver straightened his hair and glasses, grabbed the tickets out of his jacket pocket, rolled the window down, and handed them to the man. "Here...yes we are." He then leaned back into his chair and tried to catch his breath.

"He's going," Katherine corrected through her teeth. "I never said I was!"

"Yes you are," Oliver told her. "You said you were breaking up with me and I don't remember us finishing that conversation."

"All...all right," the valet cleared his throat. "So...are you going to come out or not?" He was visibly uncomfortable.

"Of course," Oliver nodded and opened the door. "I apologize." He got out of the car and held his hand out to Katherine. "Are you coming, darling?"

Gabrielle brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, smiling contentedly and taking sips from her champagne glass as she strolled around the theater greeting people left and right. It had been so long since she'd been to the opera. So long since she'd truly done anything, really. And she'd missed it. A lot. Wanting some souvenirs of her first evening out in a while, she strode inside the boutique to look around, quickly finding a small picture that she wanted to hangin her kitchen. She turned to the woman at the register. "Excuse me, mademoiselle. How much for this tres joli piece of art?"

The clerk squinted at it. "I'm sorry I don't know off the top of my head. Let me look." She turned to look at the price list.

"Ooooh!" moaned a young man nearby, before gulping down his scotch.

Gabrielle turned to face him. "Pardon me, but are you all right?" She asked, concerned. "You're not ill, are you?"

"'Pardon'?" He repeated and wiped some dribble off his chin as he met her eyes. "You're speaking English! You remembered that you're in a place where people speak English! How respectful of you!"

"I'm sorry," Gabrielle shook her head, stunned. "Have I done something to offend you, sir?" She spoke politely, even though it was the last thing she wanted to be around this very rude man.

"Who, me?" He asked, getting up in her face. "Aside from your annoying French accent, what about you could possibly annoy me, lady?"

She coughed as the obvious alcohol smell of his breath hit her nose. "If that's how you feel, you could leave just as easily as I could, monsieur!" She reminded him, hands on hips.

"Oh, no, don't you call me that," he hissed, waving a finger in front of her nose and then finishing what was in his glass.

"I suggest you stop drinking," she told him before making her way to the back of the boutique. "Unless you desire to make a big fool of yourself. And if you do, it's none of my business."

"I can do whatever I want!" He shouted. "What'll you do if I don't? Speak more stupid French to me? Oh, I'm so scared!"

"Mon Dieu! Tu es un vrai salaud!" She muttered to herself as she looked him over, admitting to herself that regardless of how rude and awful he might be, he was very well dressed: designer suit, loafers, silk tie.

"Hey, if you're gonna insult me in a language that I don't understand, the least you could do is tell me your name," he demanded.

"My name is Gabrielle," she said. "Not that it's any of your business!"

He threw his head back and laughed. "That's a French name, all right. A French whore's name!"

"Oh, my god," she cried. "Comment oses-tu? What gives you the right?" She stomped her heel on the pavement.

He chuckled and shrugged. "Do I need to have someone give me a right to do anything? You said it yourself after all...what were the precise words you used? 'Tu est un vrai salaud'?" He just grinned and shrugged it off. He knew what it meant. And it wasn't like she was wrong. He turned his cup upside down. "Well, it looks like I'm in need of some more refreshment," he remarked.

"No, what you need is for someone to alert security about you so you can leave and go sleep off all you've been drinking!" Gabrielle corrected. "I don't understand how someone as rude and inelegant as you would enjoy a night at the opera anyway!" She tried to squeeze past him but to her surprise, he grabbed her and pulled her against himself.

"You call security and I'll crush you like a bug under my foot," he told her. "Do you understand?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she spat. "I'm a demon." She locked eyes with him. "And...you are too."

"Half demon," he corrected.

"Well, I'm all demon, little boy," she said. "So if anyone will be crushing anyone, it'll be me crushing you!" She sounded self-assured but her heart was pounding against her chest. She wondered what was taking the woman so long to find that price for what she wanted.

At last, one of the ushers came in and told the woman it was time to close up shop. "If there's anyone still here needing to make a purchase, have them do it fast."

"I don't think so," the woman shook her head. "There was someone, but I think she's disappeared. Gone to watch the show maybe." She hadn't seen Gabrielle or her companion go into the back. So the woman shut off the lights and turned on the alarm.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle and the young man were still arguing, only stopping when the lights went out. "What the hell?" The young man murmured.

"...I can't believe you!" Gabrielle yelled at the young man, both because she was angry and to distract herself from the warmth that was rising in her body. "You are really the most infuriating...hey!" She got cut off as he took her face in both his hands.

"Say that again," he grinned. "I need a good laugh."

With her face squished between his hands, it was very hard for her to speak normally, so she didn't blame him for laughing. But she was also so angry she couldn't bring herself to keep quiet. She gave him a push and then they heard the door click and were plunged into darkness as the lights went out.

"What in the world?" Gabrielle said. "Where are the lights? What's happened?" She pushed him away and stumbled toward the door, grabbing it and pulling, but it wouldn't budge. "It's locked!" She yelled and pounded his chest. "It's locked and we're trapped in here! It's all your fault."

"Yes," he sighed and played with her hair. She could see his white teeth in the dark. "Here we are, alone, in the dark...what should we do?" He played with her hair. "How about I show you the French I know?" his lips brushed hers gently and she felt him try and get his tongue in between them so she slapped him. "I despise you!" She cried.

He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. She began to flail and kick, trying to free herself from him. He wasn't a terrible kisser and if he'd been politer, she definitely would have given him a shot, but now...now she wasn't so sure.

"No!" She yelled after finally managing to get away from him. "I won't do this again! No matter how...how much easier it would be to do it without having to look at you, and no matter how true it is that we don't have much else to do...I won't go through this again!" This was just like Kai...but worse. She needed to start looking for real relationships. Not just one man after another. She went back to rattling the door again until he came up behind her grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her away.

"You'll never have it as good as me," he whispered and slowly licked her neck. "Never."

Then he turned her to face him as she let out a sigh. "Oh, all right," she huffed. "But you better be a good kisser!"

"I am, I promise," he said, before crashing his mouth on hers.

"Hello, hello, hi, lovely to see you." Sybil nodded and smiled at every person she passed on the way to her seat, seat 32A. Then, as she sat down and looked over her program, she realized the entire row was empty. "What in the world?" She whispered. Then her favorite voice met her ears and she froze.

"Hello, hi, good evening, good evening to you." Mikael then saw her and gave her a sly grin as he sat down in 34A.

"Are you kidding me?" She whispered. "This can't possibly be your seat! Go away!"

He deftly removed his ticket from his pocket and showed it to her. "I hate to disappoint you, darling," he said. "But this truly is my seat and if I were to go somewhere else, I would take a seat from a deserving person. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"So...so you're telling me that it just happens you're here?" She asked. "Like an act of god?"

Mikael rolled his eyes. "Please don't mention Steve. It makes me cringe!" He unbuttoned a few buttons of his vest. "Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?"

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Like you would ever tell me the truth!"

"I bought the whole row of seats," Mikael said. "Happy?"

"Wait, you what?" Sybil yelped.

"Shhh!" Mikael put a finger to his lips. "Don't make a scene. We're in public!" He winked. "And you look lovely!"

"Oh, my god," Sybil whispered, hand going to her mouth. "My ticket...the Council didn't send it, did they? You did!"

"Technically yes, it is from me," Mikael nodded. "But without help from Malachai, you never would have gotten it."

Sybil growled, her hands balling into fists as she threw the program at Mikael and it bounced off his forehead. "I hope you have a good evening at the opera, Mr. Mikaelson! I was hoping for one myself, but I'll have you know that I can't be bought and I won't be bought. Good night! I'll kill you after I kill that Malachai, just you wait!"

Mikael let her go a few steps and when she tripped over the skirt of her dress, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the nearest empty seat with a grip like iron. "Woman, will you stop making a scene and listen to me?" He demanded.

"Why should I listen to you?" Sybil asked. "You lied to me and dragged me here under false pretenses!"

"I know you can't be bought," he said. "You're one of the most stubborn women I've ever met."

Sybil gave him a smug grin. "Well, it's good that you noticed because intend to keep being stubborn and making your life a living hell!"

Mikael raised an eyebrow. "So...you want me to keep wanting you day after day?"

"What?" Sybil asked. "Excuse me?"

Mikael shook his head. "Never mind. I needed to talk to you and this was the only way I could think of to do it."

"You're just gross!"

"For wanting the best for you?" Mikael asked. "Really?"

Sybil frowned. "I know I'm newly alive, but I'm not a child! I don't need to be minded by you because you're older than me. How clearly can I say that you don't need to go buying whole rows at the opera to be near me because I don't want anything to do with you?"

"I know you're lying through your teeth," he told her. "And don't try to bribe me because I already have more money than I already know what to do with!"

"I don't want to bribe you," Sybil huffed. "I just want you to go away!"

Meanwhile, Katherine and Oliver were settling in their own seats nearby and couldn't help but overhear. "Quick, grab my opera glasses from my purse!"

"Why?" Oliver asked. "What's the big emergency?"

"I see Mikael Mikaelson next to the demon Sybil!" She cried. "He hates demons and she was married to his stepson once!" Katherine said. "Hurry up and gimme!"

"Here," he said, finding them for her. "But don't look too long and make her mad. I still am planning to ask her out, you know."

Katherine nearly dropped her glasses which caused Oliver to grin. "Interesting," he said. "Are you jealous?"

Katherine shook her head. "You want my honest opinion? I couldn't care less what you do with your time!"

"Liar," he whispered in her ear and nibbled on the earlobe just for fun.

She shut her eyes tight to try and ignore the shivers in her spine, then picked up her opera glasses, soon discovering that yes, it was indeed Mikael and Sybil sitting next to each other at the opera. Then she lowered her glasses and looked around. Oliver was no longer beside her, only a note with two words: Find me.

As she got up to storm away, Sybil gave Mikael a good hard push. "Leave!" She demanded. "Say what you have to say and then leave me alone. I've had enough. Either you leave or I do. It makes no difference to me!"

Mikael nodded, his face somber as he leaned in close to her. "Malachai has spoken to Avery," he said. "She believes the reason you disappeared that night...you know what night I mean..."

"Yes, I do," Sybil nodded. "There's no need to elaborate."

"Yes, well," Mikael nodded, continuing. "She believes the reason you disappeared that day is because a part of your soul is still tethered to the afterlife."

She'd been looking away from him as he spoke, but his words shocked her so much that her head whipped around and hit him in the mouth. "Sorry!" She apologized automatically. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he shook his head. "And you never need to be sorry."

Sybil's lip began to quiver and she sat down heavily in the nearest chair. "What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?" She asked, her voice breaking. "How do I fix it? I don't want to be some half-alive ghost creature!" She sniffled. "I hope this isn't one of those things where true love's kiss makes it better," she shuddered.

"Well, you haven't disappeared since that night, have you?" Mikael pointed out with a gentle smirk. "Maybe you're on to something." He sighed and took her hand. "I don't know what to tell you, other than that Avery is working on it and I'm sure she'll find something to fix this somehow. In the meantime, here you are, at the opera, with me." He took her hand and gently held it in his before leaning forward to sniff the skin of her neck and shoulder. "You smell nice," he observed before beginning to caress her palm with his thumb.

"Th-thank you," she got out. Heat was spreading through her arms and hands.

Then he kissed her shoulders and neck. More heat. Then the opera overture began. "We...we really should get back to our seats," he said, holding out his hand. "Here, let me help you."

But she couldn't. It was too much. She took one look at his hand, shook her head and sprung up from her seat. "I...I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted. "Bye!"

"Wait!" He called after her as she ran. But he didn't follow. And she didn't stop running until she reached the nearest bathroom, threw herself inside, and shut the door behind her, praying she wouldn't throw up in the sink. It was too nice of a bathroom for that. Very fancy.

She put a hand on either side of the sink and took several deep breaths, then splashed cold water on her face, just getting her equilibrium back when the door to the bathroom unlocked. She didn't need anyone to tell her who it was. "You know this is a ladies' room," she pointed out. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"Fine, I'll make this quick," he said. "Just tell me why you won't let me help you."

"What makes you think I want your help?" Sybil questioned. "How full of yourself do you have to be to think I need it?"

He got close to her. "Because you're in my bloodstream, Sybil. And I'm in yours. And you know it."

She was feeling unsteady again. "I think...I think I'd like to go home now," she told him.

"Give me a chance to change your mind," he told her. As he undid his vest and shirt buttons, Sybil watched, gripping the counter tightly. So tightly that she felt a nail or two break. She tried to keep her breathing soft and ladylike so he wouldn't know how he was making her feel, but from that smirk he wore, she could tell he'd probably figured it out anyway.

As he came up behind her, she shut her eyes tight. She whimpered as she felt him raise her skirt up her thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her ear before gently kissing the lobe. Then his hands were sliding up her thighs as his lips planted a trail down her neck and shoulders after he pulled down one of her sleeves. Then his hand slid under her neckline and cupped her breast while the other slid under her skirt to remove her panties. She turned her head to speak, but as her mouth opened, he caught it with his, and everything seemed to fall around them.

They pulled apart just barely and kissed wildly again as she unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on his shirt and ran her hands over his chest. He took her hand and kissed her fingers before picking her up and sitting her on the sink and kneeling in front of her, removing her shoes and kissing her ankle, then up her leg before pushing up her skirt and gently sliding her panties down. They were both panting wildly now. He tossed her panties aside and then slowly began pleasuring her with his tongue as she leaned her head back and gripped the counter until her knuckles were white.

Then he stopped, for a moment, grinning up at her. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you," he told her. "Or tell me you want me to stop."

"Oh," She breathed, and hated herself for it. "Don't stop! Don't stop!" She grabbed fistfuls of hair and pulled hard while muttering his name, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say it too loud. And she wanted him too, so much. But she didn't want him to know that either. Not now anyway.

The force of her climaxing sent her tumbling off the counter and into his arms. He caught her readily after rising to his feet and made no attempted to stop her when she threw her arms around him and continued to kiss him with such enthusiasm that it didn't even seem like she was stopping to breathe. At last, he was the one who pulled away, just for a moment, and put a finger over her mouth. He was panting heavily now. "I can't take any more of this," he told her. "I need to be inside you, Sibyl. As close as we are now, with nothing between us. You're too beautiful."

She kissed him again, grabbing his belt and undoing it, but just as she was starting to get his zipper down, she froze. She pushed him away, frowning. "How dare you?" She hissed. "Don't think it's okay for you to treat me like a whore in public just because no one is around to see!"

"But my dear, I promise I wasn't!" He protested, hoping he would let her explain. "I just...I thought you were enjoying yourself!"

"Of course you did!" Sybil snapped, blushing wildly. "As long as you men are, you assume everyone is!" This was untrue. She had been enjoying herself until he'd opened his big fat mouth and exposed his wicked plan. She wouldn't be a part of it! She wouldn't! She gave him a good hard slap and took off with her shoes in hand.

Mikael watched her go, then growled, hitting the wall with his fist. If she weren't so beautiful...Then he looked down at a bit of crumpled fabric on the floor. They were hers. They were her panties. In her rush, she'd forgotten them. He picked them up and held them in his fist. Something of her, he decided, was better than nothing. For now.

"Why do you keep knocking on the door like that?" Arthur asked. The sound was making his head hurt.

"Because I figure if I make noise, someone will rescue us, you fool!" Gabrielle snapped. "You could help, you know."

"You want my help?" Arthur questioned and came to sit beside her. "Here, take this. It'll be a big help."

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes and saw that he was holding a flask. "Oh, no. I'm not drinking around you."

"Would you rather remember our lovely evening together?" He put a hand to his chest. "Oh, I'm touched!"

"No, thank you!" Gabrielle snatched the flask out of his hand and began drinking. "Oh, Mon Dieu!" She winced and spat the liquid out in Arthur's direction. "What kind of garbage are you drinking?"

"Well, it's that or nothing," He replied. "Your choice."

Gabrielle still hated the taste of it, but the thought of finishing it off and leaving him with nothing, especially since he already seemed to have had his fill, was appealing.

"There!" She held it up triumphantly and burped. "I finished it!" She then blinked and scooted closer to him, kissing him soundly. "The shape of your head is very pretty," she said. "And..." She felt his soft shirt and rubbed it. "And your shirt is soft." She then reached under his shirt with a smile and stroked his abs like she would stroke a kitten and grinned broadly. "Your abs aren't though! Do you work out, sexy?"

"I do," he grinned. "And I like being called 'sexy'."

"What's your real name?" Gabrielle asked as he started kissing her neck.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Not when the best thing about me is my body!"

She kissed him again and they got his shirt off, followed by his pants, then her clothes soon joined the pile.

"Now, wait just a minute," he remarked, stroking her white silk and lace underwear. "These are nice!"

"Of course they are," Gabrielle nodded, tossing her head. "They're French!"

"Shame I have to take them off." He told her.

"If you don't, I will," she said.

They didn't wait much longer and were soon shamelessly going at it in the dark.

"Yes," Gabrielle panted between kissed. "I say...I must say that your French is very good!"

"You mean the kissing, right?"

"Of course," She nodded, reaching up to play with his hair. "I doubt you know non from oui."

"Oui I do," he nodded. "And I'm not used to being told non."

"Doesn't surprise me," Gabrielle shook her head. "You're lucky you're cute...or at least shaped nice in the dark." She rolled them over so she was on top, riding him hard until he passed out, then getting off him, putting on what she could, and breathing a sigh of relief when she heard a knock on the boutique door.

"What a relief!" She cried as a guard came in and turned on the light. "How did you know we were here?"

"Someone heard noises and mentioned it," the guard replied nonchalantly. "Who else is here?"

"I...a young man," she pointed. "Back there." She then ran out, losing a shoe that was not settled on her foot.

"Miss!" Called the guard. "Your shoe!"

"I don't care!" She called. "Keep it!"

The guard sighed and went to get Arthur, who, thankfully, was fully dressed by the time he reached him.

"The woman who was here...have you seen a blonde?" he asked, wincing.

"I have, but she left," the guard said and handed him the shoe. "Seems like we have a Cinderella on our hands. Are you Prince Charming?"

Arthur chuckled and looked the shoe over. "Me, Prince Charming, really? I'll take the shoe, but...you really need to have your eyes checked."

"Another glass of wine, please," Katherine said to the man at the bar. She'd been looking for Oliver for several minutes and hadn't found him. Maybe he'd ditched her.

"But...but you haven't finished the first one," he reminded her.

"Oh," she looked at what she had in her hand and chugged it. "Another glass of wine, please."

He looked at her doubtfully, but took the money she put down and poured her another glass.

What had she been thinking, coming here? She scoffed. She thought it would be easy, that's what. That if they were in public, Oliver wouldn't make a fuss and he'd just let her go. No emotions, no clinging, just a clean break. That's what was best. For both of them. And he'd seemed to have gone along with it, but she had to be sure. She began looking around for him, but couldn't see him anywhere.

"May I help you, Miss?" Asked an usher. "Do you need assistance finding your seat? The opera will begin soon."

"Actually, I was looking for my date," she explained. "He seems to have disappeared on me. He's tall, has glasses and adorably rumpled dark hair, a purple tie, and..."

"Are you Katherine Pierce?" Asked the usher.

"Yes," Katherine nodded. "Why do you ask?"

The usher held out some keys. "A man who matches that description asked me to give you these for when you wanted to leave tonight. He took a taxi home and wishes you a pleasant evening without him." His voice was full of judgment.

"Well, do you know where he went?" Katherine asked. "Did he say?"

"No, Miss," the usher shook his head. "I'm afraid he didn't. Now, would you like me to show you to your seat?"

"No, thank you," Katherine shook her head and snatched the keys. "I have somewhere else I need to be. It's urgent."

The man nodded, but still shook his head and sighed. She didn't care. She just wanted to go home and have a word. If he wouldn't break up with her in public, maybe, at home, when it would be just the two of them, she could finally get him to see reason.

As Katherine opened the door of his apartment, she frowned. The lights were off. "Damn it, Oliver, don't tell me you're not here! If you are, why are you just sitting in the dark? Did you forget to pay the electric bill?" She turned on the light and started when she saw him standing with one hand on his favorite chair. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and he was clad in dark jeans, a dark sweater, and a leather jacket. He had a wicked smirk on his face. One that she hadn't seen for quite some time.

"Well, well," He chuckled. "Predictable as ever, I see. Still so afraid of being abandoned that even when you pretend otherwise, the slightest hint of it and you run for cover like a scared puppy. I knew once I told that usher I was leaving, it wouldn't take long for you to come and find me."

His voice was smooth and cold and when he put a hand on her face, the palm was as cold as ice.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked, unsure. "Did you...did you want to leave the opera to have a little fun? I understand that..."

"Oh, shut up!" He snapped. "You think I have time for that?"

"But I-" Katherine shook her head. She was very confused. "Are you playing a trick?"

"No, I'm not," he shook his head and pushed her into a chair. "I tried to be nice. Clearly I failed. Clearly you think I'm a fool, Katherine. But I'm not."

"No," Katherine shook his head.

"Stay there," he commanded, then came back with some new lingerie she had bought and was planning to surprise him with later. "Put this on."

"You can't tell me what to do!" Katherine cried.

He grabbed her and kissed her soundly. "Do it," he snapped after. "Now."

"What'll you do if I don't?" Katherine asked.

"I'll put it on you myself," Oliver snapped. "And I think we both know which way would be more pleasant for you. I don't feel like being very gentle this evening."

She started to undress, keeping her eyes on his cold ones. Ones that had, just a few hours ago, looked at her with warmth, and longing, and...love. And she'd rejected it. Pushed it away. She'd been so stupid.

Standing there in her underwear, she began crying.

"Well?" Oliver hissed, bringing her chin up. "Hurry up! We don't have all night! And stop crying. It's pathetic!"

"No, it's not!" Katherine snapped and threw the clothes on the floor. "I won't do this! I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I treated you badly when all you did was give me love. I'm sorry I took it and treated it like garbage. I guess...I guess I didn't realize how much I missed it until I made it go away. Took for granted that it would always be there; that you were full of infinite patience." She wiped her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm sorry I did that, and that it made you so mad that you had this," she gestured at him. "This come back. I miss kind, sweet Oliver. If...if you could find it in yourself to bring him back...I'd welcome him with open arms."

Oliver paused. His body relaxed. His expression lightened. He took her hand and put it to his heart. "Really?" He asked. "Truly?"

"Yes," Katherine sniffled. "Yes, Oliver. I want to have a nice, normal life with you, in this apartment. Well, as normal a life as a vampire and former robot can have. I don't want anything else. Ever."

Tears began streaming silently down her cheeks as she waited for him to respond. He still looked uncertain.

Finally, he pulled her close and kissed her. "All right," he said. "I choose to believe you because that's what I want with you too. What I've always wanted." He kissed her again "Nice panties," he remarked, grinning wickedly.

"You think?" She replied with a wink. "Well, you know what? They would look even nicer on the floor next to your bed."

Oliver chuckled loudly instead of blushing like she'd expected him to. He picked her up and began striding down the hallway to his bedroom. "Is that so?" He asked. "Well, I think I'll have to see that for myself!"

When they arrived in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind him and then put her down on her feet. They began kissing soundly as she undressed him and soon, they were both naked in his bed.

"See?" Oliver asked as he kissed her everywhere. "This is good. This is how it's supposed to be."

"Oh, yes," Katherine nodded as he began pleasuring her with his tongue. "Very good! You know, you learn awfully fast." She gasped.

"Of course I do," he grinned. "Why do you think the robots made me their leader? In fact, I think that's what I want you to call me. Come on, say it. Call me fearless leader."

"Hell, no," she shook her head. "No, no, no!"

He began tickling her. "I won't stop until you do!"

"Okay, okay, okay!" She got out and and kissed him soundly. "All right, fearless leader. But that's the only time I'll say it."

"Well..." Oliver began running his hands lightly over her body and swirling his tongue around around her belly button. "What if I call you...co-fearless leader?"

Katherine pretended to think a moment. "Doesn't exactly have the sexiest ring to it but...I'll take it! You gonna come inside me now or what?"

Oliver grinned and pulled her close, his breath ruffling her hair as he buried himself inside her. "Whatever you say, co-fearless leader!"