Hey all! Not much Klaroline this chapter, but no worries; the whole next chapter is just them. ;)

I wanted to ask you guys a favor . . . Because I'm unable to write as often as I used to, I find myself forgetting little details. Please point out any information conflicts you notice. I've caught myself making silly mistakes, so I thought I'd recruit my careful readers to drop me a line if you spot anything inconsistent. THANKS!

"Wooooooooooooooo!" The doppelganger howled as she slammed the red shot glass upside down on the bar. "That's how it's done, boys!" she yelled over the music, a slight slur corrupting her words.

Katherine was once again out for the night. Elijah, ever the stiff companion, refused to have any fun, so she went out in search of some entertainment all by herself, well, with the addition of a vampire bodyguard who insisted on stalking her bar crawls. She was sick of Bourbon Street. It was just a bunch of vampires and tourists looking to see boobs anyway. She decided to hit up a random dive bar on Esplanade hosting a punk night in The Quarter, the perfect excuse to break out her more alternative wardrobe.

"This girl," one of her two frat-boy drinking buddies shouted out pointing his finger at her, "This girl knows how to party!" He was bulky, blonde, and putting off a heavy dude-bro, jock vibe.

"Hell yeah!" The brunette version of Dude-Bro said from beside him. Reaching over, he wrapped his beefy arm around the neck of a third man that had been timidly drinking club soda and lime next to them for the last half hour. "See, John. This is the kind of fun you need to be having."

Hearing his name mentioned Katherine peered around Brunette Dude-Bro to get a good look. For being the attending wet-blanket, John was hotter than the bayou in July, even more so considering the virginal nerd aura he radiated. Fit but innocent; she was pretty sure she would enjoy corrupting him later that night. A wide coquettish smile spread rakishly across the doppelganger's mouth as she pushed passed Brunette Dude-Bro to encroach on John's personal space.

"What's your story?" she purred.

"Uhh . . ." John stumbled.

"You're a student?"

"Yeah. Grad-student," he answered looking everywhere but Katherine's provocatively displayed form.

A wide, flirty grin was plastered on her face, "I like them smart."

"Super smart!" Dude-Bro drunkenly piped in from beside them obviously trying to talk up his bashful friend. "Math major!"

Laughing lightly, she continued, "Math, huh?"

Looking down hesitantly, John nodded to the floor.

A man that gorgeous should not be so shy; Katherine was obviously dealing with a victim of Ugly Duckling Syndrome. "How yummy," she thought fiendishly. Her eyes scoured his body in the colorful lights that flashed through the bar. His pecks were delightfully visible under his thin cotton shirt and though he was lean, he was obviously firm in all the right places. Feasting on him with her eyes, one brow raised when she spied a peak of ink visible just under the collar of his shirt. "What's this?" she asked using the tattoo as an excuse to run her hand up his chest and pull down slightly at his collar to get a better look.

John stilled as soon as her hands settled on him, his eyes flicking nervously to his friend who, horrifying enough, was making crude hand gestures behind her back thrusting his hips exaggeratedly into the back of the barstool. Realizing she was inquiring after his tattoo, he sputtered, "Pi."

She may not have been a math major, but she knew what pi was. God, even his tattoo was nerdy; she was going to have some serious fun with this one. "Good boys don't have tattoos, Johnny."

John smiled, and the tension in his body eased slightly. He opened his mouth to respond to her openly flirtatious attitude when, over Katherine's shoulder, he saw something that had him hesitating.

Witnessing the change in his face, she turned, "What?" Her obnoxious vampire bodyguard stood gruffly behind her. She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Does Elijah pay you to clam jam me?"

Her bodyguard, Saul, was a middle-aged, crotchety looking vampire. His brown hair was stick straight on his head and grown out until just below his cheekbones. The brown eyes shining below a pronounced brow were dark but not intimidating in their own right. Were it not for his size and rough, reticent demeanor, his scary-factor would be pretty minimal. "We should go," Saul said, his eyes flicking quickly toward the door.

Katherine wanted to spin around to see what he was referring to, but, trying to keep a low profile, she slowly turned, her eyes wandering the room as if she were simply searching for a bathroom. There, coming through the entrance and strutting toward the bar, was a small group of vampires. How did she know? It was obvious if you knew what to look for. She used to walk like that. The walk of someone who was fearless; the walk of the predator. They came to hunt. Her eyes darted back to Saul, and she nodded slightly.

"Sorry boys! It seems the fun is over," she play pouted grabbing her leather jacket from the back of the barstool.

"What?" Dude-Bro shouted. "Naw, you can't leave."

A wide, drunken grin broke out over Katherine's face. "I have to." With a sigh she pet a finger down his chest, "It's too bad, I would have enjoyed breaking off a piece of you, and . . ." she purred looking back at John, "breaking you. But, it's time to go." She took half a second to revel in the crimson coloring that painted John's cheeks before motioning for Saul to lead the way out the back.

The night was warm and heavy as they popped out onto Esplanade. The Quarter was still very much awake and though not centered in this part of town, it was easy to hear the rowdy crowds as they shouted from a few streets over.

"I can't have any fun," Katherine whined as she strutted across the street.

A loud snap sounded and though Saul had plenty of time to catch the doppelganger as her ankle twisted and she went flying into the pavement, he enjoyed the clumsy display too much to stop it from happening. She didn't make his job easier, so sue him for deriving pleasure from her misfortune. Turning his face to the side, he tried fruitlessly to hide the humored smile that cracked at the sides of his mouth. "You okay?" he asked lazily pushing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"AUUGH!" She huffed glaring up at him before reaching over and picking up her broken stiletto heel. "Perfect!" she spat. Flinging her hand up toward Saul, she waited for him to help her up. When his hand never gripped hers, her head spun up to him. Judging by the way he stood there sentinel, he obviously did not intend to help her up. "Really?!" Dusting herself off and removing her now ruined shoes, Katherine stood. "Such a gentleman," she seethed. The doppelganger took a step and let out a short shriek, a shriek that was followed by a quick limp and her grasping at her leg. "Great!" she shouted from between gnashed teeth. "Thanks! Now my ankle is broken!" Gesturing down to her foot, she gaped up at her bodyguard with all the hate she could summon.

Saul rolled his eyes subtly. "It's not broken; I would have heard the bone break. It's just a sprain. Walk it off, Doppelganger."

"Walk it off?! Walk it—" Suddenly going silent, she closed her eyes and focused hard on not screaming as loud as humanly possible at her apathetic bodyguard. "You're a dick, you know that?"

A true smirk appeared on his chiseled face when he said, "There are worse things to be, Princess."

For a second, Katherine tried with every ounce of strength she had to melt the vampire on the spot with her eyes alone. Princess?! She wasn't a princess! That was her line! She called people "princess". No one called her "princess"!

He tilted his head down the road, "We going back?"

"Yeah! Because I can totally make that trek!" she sarcastically and loudly voiced.

"What do you—"

"—Just," she spat holding up her hand while pulling her phone from her back pocket with her other, "Be. Quiet."

The phone rang three or four times before a familiar voice said, "Katerina."

"I need a car," she replied shortly.

"Is there something wrong with your legs?" Elijah joked, his smile obvious in his words.

"Actually, yes," was all she said in return.

There was a slight pause before he responded a bit more seriously, "What do you mean?"

"I," she began, her eyes flicking in Saul's direction, "sprained my ankle. Just send a car."

There was a worn, wooden bench just across the street from the bar. Hobbling toward it, she dragged herself over to the hard, slotted seat.

The smile was back in Elijah's tone, "I believe there is a word in the English language that would be very appropriate in this situation."

Katherine's hand gripped the phone so tightly she was certain that, were she still a vampire, the phone would be snapped into many pieces on the street. Sitting down on the warped wood, she growled, "Please."

"Where are you?"

The doppelganger's eyes wandered around taking in the large building sitting behind her off the road a bit surrounded in a black, wrought iron fence that ran along the sidewalk. "Esplanade. In front of a big brick building."

"A brick building? Well, since you've narrowed it down . . ."

"Ugh! Fine. Um," she hummed looked for an address. She didn't' want to stand back up, but there were signs she couldn't quite make out. "It's got white columns, does that help?"

"Not at all."

"Doppelganger," Saul piped in trying to get her attention.

"I'm on the phone, Clam Jammer," she spat over her shoulder lifting herself up and limping closer to the front of the building.

Saul sighed leaning against the wrought iron fence. "It's not clam jamming if I'm keeping you safe."

"I could be having crazy hot, corruptive nerd sex with Johnny Pi!" she sassed loudly.

"Katerina, if you please," Elijah's voice awkwardly chirped from the phone.

Ignoring both of them, she limped against the fence squinting through the darkness at the large sign visible in the lawn preceding the historic building. Sighing, she spoke into the cell receiver, "Okay, I'm standing in front of The Old U.S.—"

Katherine's words died in her mouth and her head quirked slightly to the side. A tickle of familiarity pinged in her mind.

"Hey, Princess," Saul called noticing how she paused. "What's wrong?"

Not wanting to interrupt her train of thought she merely shook her head, her eyes never leaving the sign. The white letters stood out against the shiny, black backing, reading:

Old United States Mint

1838-1909

400 Esplanade Avenue, New Orleans, Louisiana 70116

Suddenly, an amused, impressed chuckle bursts forth from Katherine's lips catching Saul off-guard.

"I'm really quite busy," Elijah spouted from the phone.

Shaking her head she spoke to the Original with a smirk painted across her lips. "Do I like pie, she asks."

There was a short pause before the Original replied, "I say this with the utmost respect for your decision making process: Have you taken any recreational drugs this evening?"

"Pi, Elijah! She wasn't asking if I liked pie, as in the pastry. She was asking if I liked pi, as in mathematics." Excited by her own discovery, she confidently turned and looked at her tall companion who by all accounts was gawking at her like she had just grown a second, very insane head.

Elijah's asked, "What are you talking about?"

"June," she purred. "The devil is in the details. That's what she said."

"Katherine, I don't—"

"Elijah," she exclaimed, "I'm standing in front of the Old U.S. Mint. The Mint! 400 Esplanade! Don't you get it? June said she gave us hints, and we thought she gave us jack shit! But she gave us everything!"

There was a long bout of silence.

A devious smile snaked across her lips, "I know where Sophie is."

"It's a stretch—"

"—It's a lead."

A moment passed. "I'll be right there."

The doppelganger hung up the phone with a deliberate press of her thumb. Saul said nothing but merely followed as she limped her way down the sidewalk; only Katherine could make limping look good.

After a couple dozen yards, she stopped and peered across the street. A languid, gratified smile slowly broke across her features when she saw the metallic numbers displayed on the rundown condo building in front of her.

314

"What did you do?!" He roared in the woman's face. The woman he called "Mother".

Esther's eyes were wide, but her voice, though defensive, didn't waver. "I did what I had to do to keep our family whole."

They stood toe to toe in the Mikaelson home, the hearth spitting moisture from the freshly added logs beside them. The morning was overcast and Klaus was drenched in rain from being left on the cool earth in the night. He had expected to find his family home, but the house was empty except for the very woman he came to see. The woman he had to see.

The rage was like molten metal in his veins. Never before had he felt so agitated. So ready to lay hands on something or someone. "You lied to me!"he shrieked, his arms tensed and straightened beside him.

"Niklaus, just—"

Grabbing Esther's arms, he dug his fingers in making her screech and moan. His fingers pressed in so sharply that her arm would surely and badly bruise. "You lied to me—My whole life I've been weak! But I could have been strong! With the wolf I was powerful! It was right and you took it from me!"

"I had to," she said between gnashed teeth.

"Why?!" he yelled into her face, his breath causing the strands of hair framing her cheekbones to blow sharply outwards. He gave her a harsh shake.

There was a long moment where his eyes burned down into hers, but by the stubborn set of her jaw, it was obvious she had no intention of answering him for the answer would only anger him further, no doubt.

His hands were still tightly grasping her arms when his voice calmed just slightly, an edge still apparent in the gruffness of his words, "Why, Mother?"

"You were never meant to know. You were never meant to be this. Never meant to become this monster," she spoke sternly.

Monster.

In less than a moment, too quick for the eye to see, his fingers had curled around the woman's slim neck. "I was meant to be a wolf," he purred, his tone suddenly cold and menacing as his body began to quake with the feeling and furor laced in his words. "The monster was of your doing."

Esther grabbed at his wrist before spitting the words in his face that would rob him of every ounce of love and control. "I'm not so sure."

Blind with rage, his fingers flexed into the skin of her neck pressing down just right on that delicate pipe. It wasn't quick though it seemed like one moment her eyes were locked on his and the next they stared blankly off to the right. Releasing his hold around her throat, his mother dropped to the floor before the Mikaelson hearth. Dead and gone to the world he knew. His blue orbs widened as he took in the image of her there, a single inconsequential tear trailing down over his cheek. A remnant of his passion. He hated her. Abhorred her with every fiber of his being for taking something so precious away.

She took from him his birthright. She made him a monster. Oh, and what a monster he would be.

"—It has to be the full moon. A new moon isn't enough.

"—No! Not all celestial events are the same, Marcel.

"—Oh please! Elijah doesn't even know for sure that you are involved.

"—Do not threaten me. You forget, I have the spell and I have the information. You turn on me and do not doubt for a second that I won't run to Elijah with the tale of how you and Davina are the ones plotting against his family, planting the baby, taking his beloved brother's memories.

"—If not me than one of the others. You've been using us at your whim for long enough that he would buy our forced participation.

"—I told you, the witches aren't talking to him. My location is hidden from them; he won't find me.

"—And I'm just supposed to trust you?

"—It's in place.

"—Yes.

"—Why would I do that? I want the hybrid brought down just as much as you do. Just be ready. Only two more weeks and we can finish this."

Sophie slammed the phone receiver down onto its cradle. It was one of those outdated see-through models with the curlicue cord that reeked of the 90's, but it was all she had in that pigsty of a flat. Huffing indignantly, she plopped herself down on one of the kitchen's rickety table chairs and raked her hands down her face. Marcel was growing impatient. Elijah was hunting her down, and there were still two weeks left until her and Davina could finish the spell at the next full moon. Needless to say she was stressed.

Blowing out a sigh, her head fell back as she stared up at the peeling, cyan ceiling. The sounds from the club down the way filtered through the single pane windows.

Knock Knock Knock

Sophie's head shot back to rights and spun in the direction of the door, startled by the abrupt sound.

Knock Knock Knock

Standing, she patted her way to the door. It had to be important if her sisters were knocking at her door at this time of night. Perhaps news had finally trickled down about the location of the hybrid. Looking out the scuffed, foggy peep-hole Sophie could make out a head of dark hair, but the woman was being careful, turned away from the door and peering back and forth down the halls for anyone who may witness her visit. Rolling her eyes, Sophie shook her head at whichever witch thought that checking for any of the Mikaelson spies in her hallway would be at all helpful.

A metallic crackle sounded when she let the door chain drop out of its position. Twisting open the dead bolt and then the knob lock, Sophie opened the flimsy door with a sharp creek.

"What is it?" she asked quietly only opening the door a smidge. The woman turned then. Sophie's eyes shot wide open. "Katherine?"

Feeling like the cat that got the cream, a wide, lazy smile curled across the doppelganger's mouth. "Hey, Baby Devereaux. Got a second for an old friend?"

Sophie's brown eyes hardened coldly, "You were friends with my sister, never me."

Feigning hurt, Katherine lifted her hand to her chest and her eyebrows furrowed, "You wound me." Stepping forward, she weaved around Sophie with a slight limp forcing the witch to open the door fully. The flat was really quite awful and the smell alone had even her human nose crinkling up.

"How did you find me?" the witch voiced from behind her confused why Katherine wasn't wearing any shoes .

Smiling cleverly, the doppelganger purred, "I have my ways." She spun around to see that Sophie had yet to close the door or look back over her shoulder to where a certain brown haired Original stood deftly at the threshold.

Seeing Katherine's eyes flick over her shoulder was enough to get her to look back. Spinning on the spot, Sophie's eyes grew large, but before she could say more than his name, she was body-checked from behind and catapulted into the waiting arms of the man she had been hiding from these past two weeks. There were mere seconds where Sophie began to pull at the power in her blood hoping to create enough pain in Elijah to escape, alas those seconds were more than enough time for him to jerk her to the side where her head bounced off the solid door jamb.

Falling limply to the ground, the witch was out cold.

Straightening his suit jacket, the Original glanced at his companion. "Well, that wasn't too difficult," he spoke clearly his eyes peering quickly down at Katherine's bruised and swollen ankle. "You should ice that." He motioned with his head to someone down the hall. Saul approached seemingly from nowhere to pick up the unconscious witch.

"Sure, you'll carry her," Katherine mumbled bitterly.

Saul rose an eyebrow bouncing slightly to better balance Sophie's weight over his broad shoulder, "She doesn't annoy the fuck out of me."

"How do you know? Have you ever even met her?" she sassed flipping her long, dark curls behind her shoulder and limping through the door.

"Well, so far she's a better conversational companion than you."

Katherine bit out her words as she made her way to the stairwell, "She's unconscious. She's not saying anything."

"Huh!" Saul chirped with an odd amount of enthusiasm before he bounded down the stairs, speeding on his way back to the compound.

The doppelganger seethed through her nose. She would get back at him later. Just thinking about it had a sadistic smile itching up the side of her mouth. Looking down the stairwell, she sighed before grasping the loosened banister and lifting her injured foot prepared to start the painful trek downward.

"Katherine," Elijah called lightly.

Swinging her hair from her view, the doppelganger's thin face turned to him.

"May I?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer, the Original swept his arms around her slim figure lifting her into his arms in a bridal cradle.

Grasping his shoulder to stabilize herself a surprised glint of a smile pulled up half her mouth. When his expensive leather shoes began to patter down the stairwell, she couldn't help but tease, "My hero."

Casually he responded, "Don't get too excited. I merely want to get back this century. I have a witch to interrogate."

"You don't have to pretend with me," she instigated dramatically wrapping her hands around his neck. "I know that you have a thing for defenseless women. I'll gladly play the part," she hummed inching her mouth to his ear. Just as her mouth opened to take hold of his earlobe, Katherine felt a nauseating shift and lurch. Her eyes slammed shut, opening moments later to the courtyard at the compound.

"Katerina?" Elijah's voice said from beside her face, his tone husky and breathy.

Excited by the implication hidden in the sultry tone of his voice, she turned her face up to his. Katherine had to admit, she did not expect the intimate expression etched across his dark features but when his mouth began to creep closer to her own, she was not arguing.

Unfortunately, just milliseconds before she got to taste that stern mouth of his, the arm beneath her knees dropped out sending her jutting into a standing position. Getting her balance, the doppelganger glared up at the suddenly smug looking vampire.

Barely hinting at a smirk, he release his other arm from her body and, after a moment, paced steadfastly away, throwing over his shoulder with laughter in his voice, "Ice your foot before it falls off. Have some sense," before turning a corner to the basement stairwell.

Katherine's mouth hung open in indignation. Spitting out a sigh she blinked a few times. What just happened?

Caroline's smile stayed firmly planted on her face as the florist lifted a binder against her chest and nodded congenially goodbye. The meeting at The Mystic Grill hadn't been awful, but honestly, her head wasn't in it today. Sure, the young vampire made impeccable floral decisions for the Founder's float, but while the thought of garlands upon garlands of gardenias would normally have her in an excited flutter, her mind wouldn't stray long from the happenings of the night before. The heat of Klaus pressed against her; finally tasting those soft, full lips.

Shaking herself, the blonde pulled her supplies together and stood. She dropped a few bills on the table to pay for her coffee before turning toward the door.

"Hey, Care. Long time no see," came a warm, all too familiar voice.

"Matt?" Caroline turned excitedly upon hearing his voice. He looked great. His eyes were bright to match the happy smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. A few months ago, looking at him you could see the penetrating fatigue that had coiled around him. Now, Mathew Donovan stood tall looking the picture of health and vitality. The man practically glowed. "Oh my god, Matt!" The blonde squealed jumping into his waiting arms with a firm hug and a giddy giggle. "I thought you were still in Europe!"

Releasing her from his hold, Matt's eyes held hers for a moment as he took her in. Lowering his voice to the smallest whisper, he explained, "We came back early because of what happened with Klaus."

Caroline's eyes grew twice in size before she blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. "What do you mean?"

"Forbes, you are adorable when you lie," he teased smirking in the way that only he could.

She scoffed awkwardly. "I'm not . . . What! I don't even . . ." Looking into his eyes, she knew she was busted. Sighing with deflated shoulders, she asked, "How much do you know?"

"I know that you have been babysitting for like two weeks now. I know the gist. Rebekah told me."

With a slight nod, she clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting, "And she told you how important it was that my new . . . babysitting gig isn't wide-spread knowledge?"

"Don't worry. Rebekah made me swear on pain of castration to not talk about it with anyone but you."

Caroline raised a brow when she saw the fondness for which her friend spoke of the blonde Original, even when revealing her threats to maim him in the worst possible way.

"You got somewhere to be?" Matt asked off-handedly pointing to the door of The Grill.

"Um, well. I guess I'm just going back to the house, but, um," she mumbled with a tense raise to her shoulders; it was a dead give-away. Her eyes lifted when she heard him let out a long breath.

"Come on," he said gesturing with his head toward the bar.

Caroline followed behind him until he popped behind the gate. Making herself comfortable she hopped up onto a stool, leaving her purse and papers to take up the spot next to her. He didn't speak as he flitted back and forth across the bar. Seeing him, knowing he knew and was safe to speak to was like a cool glass of water. She hadn't noticed until that moment, but Caroline desperately needed to vent about her new roommate. Her thin fingers rubbed listlessly across the bar-top until a gorgeous orange drink in a champagne flute slid across its highly glossed surface.

"One Mimosa. Spill," he said with a smile leaning forward resting his elbows on the bar.

Taking in a deep breath to respond, she hesitated. How much should she tell him? How would he react if she word-vomited the events of the previous night? Cowardly, she detracted, "How was your trip?"

"Your diversion is noted," he laughed. Deciding she would talk when she was ready, he indulged her. "It was . . . great. You know, I never thought I would ever step foot out of this town. Leaving here, seeing everything I saw, it was like . . . like remembering something I forgot."

As he spoke, he seemed genuinely happy, so she smiled. How could you not smile when Matt Donovan smiled? "What did you remember?" she asked lightly.

"That there was more," he breathed out contentedly.

"Well," she joked, "I suppose such a revelation is worth spending weeks with the Original she-devil."

"Yeah," he said with an amused nod. "My first phone call when I got off the plane was Elena yelling at me that I was crazy and needed to come back immediately."

Caroline chuckled mid-drink. "Oh my god, she was livid!"

Matt stood up with a raised eyebrow, "I know. She warmed up eventually though." Leaning to the side, he picked up a clean cloth and started wiping down the bar-top as if he wasn't used to not moving and needed to keep busy.

She watched him for a minute thinking over his words. Her eyebrows drew together and her eyes focused on the hands she had curled in front of her. She asked, "Why did you go?" Looking back up at him, she continued, "I mean, you knew we didn't like Rebekah, yet you went anyway. How could you look past that?" Caroline stopped herself before she asked what she was really wondering.

"I needed to leave, Care. I was a human living in a supernatural drama. Yeah, Rebekah can be an abrasive snob, but she's fun. She offered to show me something I never thought I'd see. I was suffocating here. So, yeah. I hopped on a plane with Rebekah Mikaelson, and I will never, ever, regret it. It was the best time I ever had, and because she was there . . . she was the best time I ever had." A short, quieted chortle sounded and he shook his head slightly. "I think, sometimes, the right thing, is to think about yourself. To hell with everyone else," he concluded with a happy, carefree expression tossing the cloth into a nearby sink and turning back toward his friend.

"Do you really think that?" She softly asked biting her lip.

"Yeah, I do." The blonde man observed her for a moment before sighing yet again. "How long have you liked him?"

"What?"

"You can't fool me, Care. I can see the guilt on your face. You're guilty, and you're asking about my decisions to disregard my friends. I'm guessing your guilty because you are supposed to hate him but you don't, right?"

Caroline's eyes cringed closed. Looking down at the flute she fondled in her hands, she gave a small, quick nod.

"Look," he said leaning farther in toward her with a more serious expression. "I don't know what you see in that guy, but don't make yourself miserable to please the rest of us. Who you date," he voiced before a smirk spread lazily up one side of his mouth, "Who you go to Europe with, in my case . . . it's none of their business. Maybe Klaus is what you need. Maybe he will help you remember?"

Caroline was dazzled by Matt's words, "Remember?"

"That there is more."

She smiled widely and laughed, "When did you get so recklessly profound?"

Matt's bright blue eyes looked down with a little blush, "About the same time I realized that my life is going to be short."

"Doomsday much?!"

"Hey! You asked," he laughed with his arms raised up in surrender. After a little pause, he gave it to his curiosity, "What's he like now?"

"He's . . . human," she breathed. "No. Scratch that, he's more werewolf, I guess. Do you remember how short-tempered Tyler used to be?"

"Yeah."

"Klaus," she said whispering his name, "has always been prone to intense mood-swings, but now it's like he goes from 0-10 in seconds. He's not used to the heightened emotions of being a vampire and never really dealt with the aggression of being a wolf."

Concern painted her friend's face, "That doesn't sound safe, Care."

"It's not like that. He's not a dick like Tyler was. He's actually fun, and we've created a system that seems to be working, but . . . I feel bad for him. He doesn't really understand why he loses his grip so quickly; he gets caught up, and I can see how frustrated he is that he can't control it."

"Are you telling me you are living with the most powerful creature on the planet and he can't even control himself?!" Matt stood up straight with wide eyes.

"No, Matt. It's just—ugh!" She growled annoyed that the words weren't coming out right. "He's so human, Matty. When he's stable he's kind and happy," she detailed softly. "He's flirty and funny. I feel bad because I see it. Looking at him now is like, like looking at an X-Ray of the Klaus we know. I see the bones. I see what's beneath everything else. And seeing him try to understand what he is, struggling with it, it's showing me bits and pieces of why he became who he did, and I'm catching myself . . ." she shook her head and peered back at her glass.

"Care?"

"Would it be so bad to give him a chance? To forgive him?"

Matt took a breath before answering her. "I can't answer that. But he's not going to stay like this. You're getting close to this new Klaus, but if he gets his memories back, he won't be the guy you started to like anymore."

It was now Caroline's turn to sigh. Might as well pull off the Band-Aid. "I didn't just start liking him." Matt leaned his elbows onto the bar again. She expected him to speak, but he merely looked at her quizzically. Her eyes were glued to the bar-top when she admitted, "Klaus is my friend. Has been for a while, if I'm being honest."

"O . . . K," came Matt's voice drawing her eyes back to his. He hesitated for a few moments, his eyes wandering The Grill as if searching for his next words. "I don't really know what to say, I guess. Maybe . . . maybe think of it this way. What will you regret more? You could go on believing that Klaus is a monster and spare yourself some heartache and your relationship with your friends while possibly always wondering 'what-if'. Or, you can forgive him. You might get hurt by him. You might get hurt by us. But you'll know if it wasn't . . . I don't know, meant to be," he finished lifting his arm and rubbing the back of his neck slightly uncomfortable with the subject material.

Seeing the discomfort in him, she laughed sympathetically before settling on a sweet smile. "Thanks. You are a good girlfriend."

"Oh, shut up," he sassed with a smile grabbing the dirty bar rag and throwing it at her.

"EW! That's disgusting!" She yelped throwing it off her dramatically with two fingers like it was ground zero for Mystic Falls' first plague.

"Serves you right, Forbes!"

Huffing with false offense, she tossed a nasty look in his direction. Caroline swallowed back the rest of her Mimosa. "I'm out of here, you sick-o!" Hopping up she gathered her things.

"Good luck," he called to her with humor in his voice as she walked away.

Please leave a review! I love hearing from you guys, and your notes and comments are very motivating for me. I particularly love the reviews where you mention your favorite lines or moments!

I'll update either tomorrow night or the following day! Double update again!