February, 1910

"Have I made any untoward advances on you in the last month?"

Beatrix raised her eyebrows at him and made a face that clearly answered yes.

Kol backtracked quickly, amending his statement to, "Alright then. The last two weeks?"

Bea walked past him, not meeting his eyes or acknowledging his words as she looked once more to the inventory sheet, making sure that all of the books on belladonna were accounted for.

Not one to let her escape the subject, he continued, "Bea, darling, come on now. I've been mature and everything. Don't I deserve some - "

Finally turning to him, her voice came out quieter than she wished it would when she replied in as firm a tone as she could, "No. I will not be a notch on your bedpost, as I know your 'dates' end. What we have is good and I look forward to your company when you visit. So please, Kol. Do not ask again and risk ruining that."

His expression fell into a look he rarely showed. When he first began regularly visiting the shop Bea had wanted nothing more than to oh-so-accidentally have a shelf fall onto him. Then... well. He grew on her. His outlandish comments and bawdy jokes matched her sarcastic and dry sense of humor and it was easy speaking to him. He even understood a bit of French and didn't grow annoyed when she accidentally slipped into the second language she had spoken as a child, instead he tried to keep up. But the serious expression he now wore looked out of place on him and made it clear to her that he had received her message.

"As you wish."

May, 1910

There was whiskey in her tea. In fact, at this point there was probably more whiskey in her cup than there was tea. But there were certain situations and conversations that required alcohol, and Bea was no stranger to it in the first place. She was Irish, after all.

She took a sip of her drink and let out a low whistle. "Wow."

"Mhm."

"Your father sounds like an enormous ass, mon ami."

Kol leaned back in his chair and took a large swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle, ignoring the glass in front of him that contained a mixed drink. He looked at bottle as if considering putting it down, but then continued to drink for another few gulps.

When he finally finished he replied in a flippant tone, "That sums it up nicely, yes."

Bea knew him well enough at this point to detect that he was not feeling as detached as he sounded, but there was no way she would call him out for it. After telling him about her own mother's early death and father's following downward spiral into drunkenness that led to their estrangement he had revealed a bit about his own past, something unprecedented in their friendship.

After his opening sentence of, "My real last name is Mikaelson, and my family is a bit fucked." she had walked to her kitchen and pulled out the liquor.

Though he had only told her what she suspected to be the barest bones of his history, she was pleased that he had shared with her at all. It had been clear very quickly to Bea that although nosy and prying, Kol himself was an intensely private person, and to tell her about his family was the most personally they had conversed since meeting.

It was strange to think that she had met him less than half a year ago. Already she spoke to him more than anyone barring her sister and perhaps her brother-in-law due to their interactions at work. What began as sarcastic conversation gradually became more, beginning the moment she had absentmindedly invited him to her apartment for tea. Now there was a chipped blue mug in her cupboard she considered his.

Strange indeed.

"I attempted to make a roast last night. Are you hungry enough to risk it?"

Kol laughed and made an exaggeratedly disgusted face before muttering, "I'm drunk, not bloody suicidal."

She tried to appear offended but soon gave in to laughter as well. However, before moving on to lighter topics she wanted to give some sort of proper response to what he had shared.

"My sister and I used to despise each other. We fought constantly. All of our childhood actually, and not just with words," she said, adding a joking wink to her statement so the mood didn't get too somber.

It appeared to work when he smirked in response and teased, "Oh really? You'd be wrestling in the dirt, coming home covered head to toe?"

She scoffed and answered in an offended tone, "Obviously not. I'd be victorious of course, coming home clean and unbloodied."

Instead of laughing as she had expected, a soft smile she'd only seen once or twice came over him. Before she could question him as to what was on his mind he spoke absentmindedly and with the slightest slur to his words.

"I knew you'd be different."

August, 1910

She honestly didn't notice when the lingering looks started. Not on his part - no, his hadn't ever really stopped – but her own eyes had begun to stray to him when she grew distracted.

To his credit, Kol had never pushed for anything more than friendship after she had made it clear that she did not wish to accompany him on any dates. But now there was a bit of a predicament.

She knew him. And she liked him anyway. Bea had many faults, this she knew, but obliviousness was not among them. She did not look to him and see a fairy tale prince. There was a darkness in Kol that showed itself occasionally in cruel comments he said absentmindedly or when he displayed his utter indifference to the suffering of others, though he seemed to count Bea as an exception. Every once in a while he would slip – say something that made no sense or hinted at a past of incredible violence, and keeping his last name a secret from all but her was not a sign of a normal life. She knew all this, and still she was staring to care for him more deeply than friendship anyway.

Quintessentially, she was screwed.

And the goddamn South Carolina heat was not helping matters at all. More heat meant less clothing, and Kol had a very, very sharp form.

Her problem with the now-blazing sunshine was made worse by another issue that plagued her. Self consciousness was something Bea had grown used to over the course of her life, but it became even more of a problem for her in the warmer months of the year, when cardigans and coats were not only unexpected but would look incredibly out of place as well. That meant there was nothing to cover her arms.

Yes, rationally she knew that the scars weren't her fault. A toddler overturning a pot of boiling water wasn't something that could have been predicted, and yet Bea had to suppress a flinch of shame every time someone's eyes lingered over the warped skin that had been burned in the accident that covered her right shoulder and upper arm, spanning across part of her upper chest. Perhaps it was egotistical to think that everyone was watching and judging her, but she truly couldn't help but feel the attention in the worst of ways.

Thus far she had been able to wear clothing that had sleeves ending at the elbows, but today her blouse was cropped at the shoulder.

Kol was coming by later when she was done with her shift at the store to walk her home. Inevitably of course he would stay for tea, occasionally dinner even, during which he would typically complain about her cooking but finish everything on his plate. His flirty comments had remained a part of their friendship but were often followed by joking responses. Nevertheless, a sick feeling grew in her stomach when she thought of his reaction to seeing the mutilated skin on the girl he had always thought to call "beautiful" or "stunning".

Bea was wrapping up for the day with hour left to unpack a new shipment of candles when she was suddenly grabbed from behind.

"Merde! Damn it, Kol!"

Letting out a loud laugh he wound his arms around her middle in an embrace that would be considered entirely too familiar if anyone was to see, but she relaxed into the hold to show that she wasn't truly annoyed.

However, she stiffened up when he leaned forward to prop his chin on scarred shoulder. Shrugging out of his hold, she didn't meet his eyes, instead looking down to the box on the floor as she forced herself not to blush.

"Don't you have something else to be doing? I still have work to do."

But Kol wasn't about to leave it at that.

"What'd I do?"

A quick glance showed that he was wearing a confused and apprehensive expression. He was clearly expecting a scolding or for her to go off on him, which admittedly she had a tendency to do. Bea did sometimes wonder how he put up with her nagging.

"You didn't do anything. Just a bit remuant pour le moment – sorry, I meant I'm just a bit restless."

There were many upsides of having gained Kol's friendship. A downside was that he now called her out on her bullshit all the goddamn time.

"Let's try this again. What's bothering you?"

She knew that he wouldn't stop pestering her until she gave him an answer he deemed satisfactory so she tried to remain nonchalant. It was embarrassing how affected by her scarring she felt, so she downplayed as best she could.

Vaguely gesturing with her left hand to her scarred shoulder she said in a light voice, "Well I know it's a tad gross, so I don't like people touching it."

The tension immediately bled out of him and he dropped his previously stiff shoulders, slouching against the wall and relaxing.

"What, your arm? Still works, doesn't it?"

Bea didn't know what sort of response he was expecting, so she lifted her arm up and then let it drop back to her side to show the obvious answer to his question. Raising her eyebrows she nodded back, prompting an explanation.

"Then it's still just an arm. Bit rougher than others that's true, but it's attached to a girl a bit better than others. Cosmic turnabout, I'm sure."

And at that moment she was sure that they could be she would be more than just another conquest of his.

"Kol?"

"Yes?"

"Can I take you out on a date?"