Author's note: Sorry for the delay — thank you for your patience! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. I also started a new Klaroline multi-chap called A Killer Kink and would love to get your thoughts on it!

Warning: Sexy times ahead!

Glass shattered against the wall as Klaus hurled the beaker with all of his strength. He let out a cry of despair that tore at Caroline's heart. He'd been withdrawn as they made their way through the air ducts to his lab, but clearly his emotions had been boiling just under the surface. In every tense muscle, she could read his fear of the monsters who hunted them and the devastation he felt from ending Matt's suffering. She ran toward where he'd fallen to his knees, wrapping her arms around him as she murmured urgently, "Klaus, I need you to keep it together!"

Looking around his lab wildly, he seemed to realize his outburst could alert the werewolves to their location and he froze, listening intently for the slightest hint of the creatures' claws scraping against the concrete. When the tension-filled silence persisted, they both seemed to lower the guard slightly.

Recalling Caroline's words, Klaus scoffed, telling her bitterly, "Need me? Look at what I've done! I'm completely useless. And now I've killed."

She took in his torn, stained button-down, spying several scratches on his forearms from the werewolf that had attacked them earlier. Two of them looked deep, the flesh bruised and shredded in a manner that must have caused him pain, but he had yet to complain about it. Her own shoulder ached from that same werewolf's claws as well as its fangs, but the adrenaline had been steadily pumping on this mission, fueled by her worry over her brother and her own fear, to distract her from the sharp sting.

"You are the furthest thing from useless, Klaus," Caroline spoke reassuringly, "You have no combat training but you've managed to survive against incredible odds, even bravely jumping in to help me fight off one of those beasts." The heavy sigh he emitted while in her arms made her blue eyes swim with tears. She couldn't stomach the thought of him being so broken. "And what you did back there, for Matt, it was selfless and brave and you knew what it would do to your soul and you did it anyway to free Matt from an even more painful death and to save the rest of us."

She swiped at a tear with the back of her hand, her tremulous voice barely above a whisper as she told him, "We all need you to get through this. I need you."

The steel in Klaus' eyes softened and his grief-stricken expression became so earnest and hopeful that it left her breathless at the implications. "You need me?" When she nodded mutely, overwhelmed by the intensity of their moment, he surged forward, bringing their lips together.

The ferocity of their kiss seemed to take them both by surprise, igniting passions that they'd clearly felt for each other but hadn't allowed themselves to explore before this moment. It didn't matter that there was a mission and lives at stake and two werewolves to destroy. In that moment, they could just be Klaus and Caroline, two people finally succumbing to their mutual attraction and acknowledging the intense connection they'd shared from that first chaotic introduction.

She leaned into his touch, delighting in the dominance she felt there as he pulled off her hair tie and knotted his fingers in her loosened blonde plait. Trailing her lips along the rough stubble of his jawline, she nibbled at his exposed flesh, his small sighs of pleasure spurring her further. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers anxious to explore the surprising taut muscles she found.

Klaus helped her finish removing his shirt before running his hands underneath her torn black t-shirt, now stiff with blood. Together, they carefully lifted it over her head, avoiding her wounds as much as possible. As he scrambled for the zipper to her tactical sports bra, she boldly rubbed her palm over his denim-clad bulge. His answering groan encouraged her, and she varied her strokes from feather-soft touches to deeper massages as his erection twitched in its confined space.

"Fuck, sweetheart, keep doing that," he panted, grinding his pelvis against her hand. He unzipped her bra, cupping her breasts as his thumbs roughly outlined her nipples until they were stiff peaks.

After one of his pinches caused her to toe that narrow line between pleasure and pain, her patience snapped and she tore at his jeans, nearly ruining his zipper in her quest to get to his cock. When his slickened tip grazed her palm, she smoothly glided her hand up and down his erection, the feel of his hot skin against hers making them both shudder.

"You feel so good," she purred, pushing down her fatigue pants and placing his cock between her thighs, teasing the tip as she lightly squeezed.

The growl at the back of his throat took her by surprise, and she let out a breathless sigh as he grabbed her ass and pushed her to the floor before covering her body with his. That first powerful thrust left her dizzy with want, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to anchor him to her. When his hand found her clit, she squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm kept building, rocking into him as he sped up his thrusts.

"Let go, sweetheart," Klaus ground out, "I want to feel it."

Caroline pushed herself to that blissful edge, trembling from the strength of her orgasm as it ripped through her. Klaus moaned at the feeling, prolonging his own ecstasy as long as possible, his thrusts leaving them both a sweaty, panting mess.

She was surprised by how easy this part was — laying tangled together, no awkward glances or misinterpreted signals. Whatever this was between them, the soft glances and gentle touches they traded in the afterglow seemed to have deepened their connection. It had been a long time since she'd felt the first stirrings of hope and by the awestruck expression she occasionally caught on Klaus' handsome face, it seemed he felt the same.

With a sigh of contentment, she rolled over to grab her discarded clothes when he suddenly ran a fingertip over her shoulder blades, hesitantly tracing the angry ridges of the old scars that crisscrossed down her back. His silence was deafening, and the longer he touched her scars, the heavier that silence became. "You want to know about my scars," she ventured, not bothering to put back on her clothes as she resettled comfortably beside him.

"I wasn't sure if I could ask about them," Klaus cautiously replied. He brushed her loose waves away from her shoulder, leaning over to kiss the furthest edge of her scars.

With a mirthless laugh, she explained, "Actually, you could say this is my second run-in with werewolves." As his gray eyes widened in surprise, she waved off his questions, adding, "The animals who gave me these old knife wounds called themselves The Werewolves, a group of white supremacists who thought Kid Rock was telepathically sending them messages."

Cursing, his eyes flashed in anger even as his touch become impossibly soft as he caressed her cheek, telling her, "Your courage astounds me, love." Placing a reverent kiss upon her forehead he added, "I'm awestruck by your strength of spirit."

Clearing her throat that suddenly become tight with emotion, she searched for something to say. She'd never been good at taking compliments, and knew that anything she said now would just be awkward or weird. Curiosity got the better of her as her eyes landed on something she'd registered earlier. With a furrowed brow, she carefully brushed her palm over the faint white lines that formed a jagged half-circle along his collarbone.

Her silent exploration seemed to encourage Klaus to speak. "Courtesy of my father," he explained, "bloody bastard broke a bottle on me when I slammed a door — I was nine."

"Christ," she muttered, "It's a goddamn miracle you and your siblings survived your childhood." Shaking her head, she said bitterly, "Fathers. What a useless concept. Our dad left us when I was 13 to shack up with his boyfriend he'd apparently been seeing behind mother's back for years. I haven't seen him since."

Leaning into Klaus' tender touch with a sigh, she confessed, "When Stefan graduated college, he asked me for one thing. Begged me, if I'm being honest. He asked me to use my resources to track down our father. I finally shared what I found, thinking it would give him some sort of closure to know our father had chosen to live alone even after his lover had died. Our father didn't want us and the sooner Stefan accepted it, the better off he'd be. But Stefan told me he's never had the courage to contact him. Too afraid of rejection, I guess."

Caroline blinked in surprise as she realized she'd confessed more than what she'd intended, and rather than a sinking feeling in her stomach, she felt strangely liberated. Taking a breath, she told him something that she'd been thinking about since this mission had begun: "Actually, as angry as I am with our father, this situation has made me question whether I should try to reach out to him once this is over." At Klaus' surprised grunt, she half-shrugged, explaining, "Stefan and I just have each other now and maybe we should do something about that before it's too late."

Klaus ran his thumb soothingly over her knuckles, telling her, "Nearly all of Stefan's stories are about you. I envy the bond you two share."

Smiling at him fondly, Caroline replied, "With our jobs, it's obviously not easy to hang out, but we take a vacation somewhere neither of us have ever been every year. It's something we started years ago when I talked Stefan into hiking Mount Lykaion with me right before my HALO training. It's where one of the earliest werewolf legends originated and we'd always been fascinated by the history of the region. We'd stood near the top of the mountain, and I was awestruck by the beauty of the wild lupines fusing their blue petals with the mist that I coined my phrase that keeps me focused on especially difficult missions: See the blue mist on the mountain peak."

"It must be a very special place, love. I must admit your words have piqued my curiosity and I'd like to see it in person one day," he commented, a small scowl forming as he added, "And then, your brother decided to trample on that lovely memory by hunting werewolves and bringing them back here."

The heavy lab door swung open with a bang, startling them both, as Kol crossed the threshold with his usual swagger, a horrified Stefan (now inexplicably sporting two black eyes) reluctantly following him as Kol said, "Honestly, Klaus, your wooing strategy is to badmouth the lady's idiot brother? Although, from the looks of things, perhaps your technique isn't complete bollocks, mate."