- Where the bloody hell am I? His thoughts were even more disjointed than usual. The anger and spectacle which was his usual want felt deflated in the situation he now found himself in. With some degree of incredulous-ness he peered into the darkness of the interior of his wardrobe. He could feel the fabric and the sharp contrast of a clothes hanger digging into the muscles of his back. What the hell was going on? A soft warm hand gripping his upper arm had him shaking slightly with raw emotion.

Klaus was a powder keg of power and Caroline had lit the wick. With control he did not feel, Klaus stalked from the confines of the wardrobe. Caroline stood with mouth aghast to one side, her blue eyes as wide and as innocent as possible. No chance, Love, I know that look yet it still affected him. His mouth set determinedly.

Gripping the hem of his black t-shirt he pulled it over his head, allowing it to drop to the floor with a clatter from the attached hanger. He peered at Care, his entire anger and confusion projecting toward her, it was all she could do not to respond in kind – especially with a partially clad Klaus, hands on hips, an image of pure masculinity, stood directly in her path. She looked from the wardrobe, to him, and back again, shaking her head so subtly that Klaus' mouth quirked softly before frowning again.

"Where the hell is Stefan?" He pointed to the corner chair, its low Venetian purple velvet distinctly empty of its occupant.

Caroline considered her options. She herself was undressed to an immodest level, black lace and satin completely on show.

"Could you turn around please?" She said haughtily, straightening her shoulders and matching his stance. It drew his gaze low to the level of her balconette bra. She flinched inwardly, her heart skipping in her chest, its preternatural slowness faltering. His wolfish expression became dangerous – his eyes gleaming gold, the red heat of him burned into her and gulped down air.

"Fine, love, I'll give you the moment you need," He turned his back sharply and she sighed inside. With a momentary effort of will she vested herself in a midnight blue satin halterneck top and dark blue skinny jeans, finishing with matching dark blue kitten heels. Life was good when you could control your world. She hesitated, controlling him would be more difficult, she surmised.

"Finished." He remained silent as he perused her appearance. His brow was furrowed deep and his gaze held the contempt he often used to mask distrust.

"Where the hell is he?" He growled again. She smiled sweetly, reining in her biting repost. Her golden hair glowed lightly in the streaming sunlight.

"He's getting toast."

"Toast?...Who wants bloody toast?" His voice cut through her and she fought the urge to cut down his condescension. Enunciating every word as he stalked towards her, as though materialising out of a wardrobe in the middle of the day was every bit as normal as being the original hybrid, Klaus resisted the overwhelming feeling he had of grasping her to him in relief at her being conscious. This was a new Caroline, a stronger Caroline, equal in speed, agility and mentality. Elijah would be stung by the transformation. His frown deepened, "Are you telling me you compelled him? You sent him for toast?"

She thought briefly about her options and shrugged, directness was the most effective way forward, "Are you telling me you got Hayley pregnant, secretly harboured a child and sent him away with your sister - - knowing that in every probability he would end up being raised with Matt in some weird Brady Bunch set up?"

The stillness in the room was palpable. He bristled. She could sense the wolf rising and the humanity seep away as he wondered. Where are you Caroline? Where is my Love? And how have you found this Truth?

Taking a step backward, her spine bumping the edge of the wooden bed, she reached around with her fingers and clasped the ornate foot-board. He was transcendental with rage. She could see the wolf clawing within him, hear it calling. Bones were cracking.

"I have no idea who the Brady Bunch are. Nor have I sent my son to live with Matt – he is safe, with Rebekah, in care I have chosen for him." Every word was a knife. A wound, a declaration that she had been right.

Choking back the hurt, Caroline edged along the foot-board of the bed. Eyeing the distance.

"Not so confident now, Love, not so sure of yourself and your powers. Tell me, my sweet, were you so easily confused by my twin? What did he do?" His voice was a low roar of compulsion. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, waited for the impulse to reveal what he had asked. None came. Immune, Wallace had given her the equality and respect which she would never truly know had she not fallen into his grasp. It was a charm she would use with gladness.

"No more than you would have done. Compulsion doesn't work on me now. You know that really. Very few of your tricks work on me now." Her confidence grew with every word she uttered. Watching his reaction was a weak pleasure.

Klaus narrowed his gaze. The compulsion may not work on her, but her raw honesty with him was enough. He could read the subtext. She had fed from his doppelganger and become great. Klaus considered where her loyalties lay – would his attraction hold her to him? "So, you rolled over at the first. Caroline, Caroline...and I thought you more than that." His voice was mocking. It galled him to speak behind barbs but she had caught him off guard, reduced his defenses.

"Oh!" Carolines' anger burst forth, the table lamp splintered into fragments. Klaus grinned wolfishly – she was a queen in a hive of worker bees. He would see that she had everything. He crossed his arms.

"Noise and bluff - - I invented that game, love," He moved with the speed beyond sight. Stopping short of knocking into her. His eyes bore down into hers, sending shivers of electricity between them. This, here, this chemistry – alchemy – he twisted – was the fire he felt he needed.

He was infuriating! "Don't you make this about you. Not everything in the universe revolves around your ego and your plotting. What do you plan to do with me, as a captive? I was going to come here willing, you pig!" Her blue eyes literally sparkled turquoise. It intrigued him unlike any other. He raised his hand and softly stroked her cheek, reveling in the softness of skin that was naturally warm with heat and fury. His response was enough to make him pause.

"Captive or not, I'm thoroughly enjoying this. Tell me, how did you know about my son? I don't remember sending out cards." Scoffing he let his hand drop. Felt the slap that he had given her inside. It chewed him up, to know he could her hurt her still so easily.

Caroline didn't allow the pain to show. She was still reeling at the lamp incident to a degree, "A...friend...told me." Her voice was prim. Proper. That school-marm sound which made his inner child feel chided.

The chuckle he released made her head swim, "A friend? They're very few and far between aren't they now? Miss Forbes? So, would this be a live one or a dead one?"

Caroline suddenly felt the grief wash up and over her. Felt the undeniable tang of guilt and sadness at the loss of Tyler within her bones. She would win him back from the other side. Would travel the world through the veil to bring him back, not from love, or loyalty or any other reason but the spirit of friendship and the kinship she had in his company.

"You tell me." Crisp, curt. Her arms crossed in defiance. Klaus was sinking in quicksand. The silence broken only by the rap on the door and the turn of the handle.