Notes: This chapter kind of got away from me! It's easily the longest yet. And there's smut towards the end. And to be completely honest I was super distracted by the amazing new CANON Klaroline we got last week! We passed the 500 reviews marker last chapter which is AMAZING to me! Thanks to everyone who's shared their thoughts. It really is the best feeling having those notifications pop up. I totally didn't get a chance to do much in the way of replying since the last few chapters went up so rapidly but I think I got any questions. You can always PM me or come say hi on Tumblr! I'm lalainajanes there.

Caroline: Age 25, Klaus: Age 32 (July)

"What's with the face, Klaus? You look like you're trying to decipher an alien code."

"If an alien species uses him as their initial point of contact we're all doomed," Enzo jokes. "He's a mite too surly to be a proper welcoming committee."

Klaus sets his phone down, knowing he'll not have another moment's peace now that Enzo and Marcel have arrives. He's careful to lock it. Klaus doesn't trust any of the friends he was sharing drinks with not to swipe it and snoop at the first opportunity. No need to make things easy for them. Marcel and Enzo pull up seats at the table. "Nothing important," Klaus informs them dismissively, taking a sip of his beer.

It's an unsuccessful ruse. Unfortunately.

"Don't listen to him," Lucien pipes up, returning from the toilets, his timing less then stellar. "He was staring at the thing looking mystified when I arrived. And he's barely managed to pay me one whit of attention. Highly offensive, since I am fascinating."

Klaus narrows his eyes, tipping his bottle in Lucien's direction, "Remind me never to introduce you to my brother. And I can fire you, you know."

But the other man is unconcerned, grinning and waving over a waitress, "But you won't. Clients love me almost as much as you do."

"Defensive and shifty?" Marcel muses, leveling Klaus with an assessing look. "Something is definitely up."

Klaus finds himself sighing, rocking back slightly in his chair, "And one would assume, given my shiftiness, that I don't wish to discuss it, wouldn't they? And that as my friends you would respect my wishes."

"One would. But when've we ever cared what you want, mate?" Enzo asks, rather rhetorically in Klaus' opinion. He's often regretted introducing Enzo to Marcel. He'd initially assumed that there'd be animosity – given Enzo's current relationship with Rebekah and Marcel's past. But Enzo was annoyingly secure, and Marcel overly easy going, so their rapport had been quick to form. And mostly based off of mercilessly, and tirelessly, mocking Klaus. Something that Lucien also excelled at despite the fact that he was technically Klaus' subordinate at work.

Being that sort of target was not something Klaus was altogether unfamiliar with, having grown up with Kol and Bekah. He excelled at ignoring it even if it wasn't his favorite thing.

"There's only a few reasons a man stays glued to his phone like that," Lucien states, hands lifting as he prepared to tick off points, "First, a sick or imperiled friend or relative. And since that one," he says, nodding towards Enzo, "practically lives with your sister, worships the ground she walks on all disgusting-like, we know that's not the case."

"You don't know all my friends," Klaus points out.

"Yes we do. Second, some kind of dodgy gambling situation. Loan sharks, threats to your kneecaps, that sort of thing. But since you're filthy rich we also know that's not the case."

"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes," Klaus tells Lucien dryly.

He preens, as if that's a compliment. "And finally, and my personal guess, some sort of woman trouble. I've no idea who it could be, since you've not seen anyone all that regularly in ages. At least since I've started working for you."

"At least five months," Marcel adds, expression turning speculative. "So who is it? A one night stand that decide to linger?"

Enzo lets out a laugh, "Something like that I'd say."

Klaus' gaze swings in his direction, but Lucien's and Marcel's do as well, "Been holding out on us?" Lucien accuses. "Well that's impolite."

Enzo shrugs, a knowing grin on his face, "Sorry, gents. Sworn to secrecy. By individuals much scarier, with far sharper claws, and more twisted imaginations, then you lot."

Both Marcel and Lucien protest, a wadded up napkin is tossed in Enzo's face. But Klaus barely hears them, already turning Enzo's words over in his mind. He'd have to investigate that statement later. Away from prying ears.

He gets the opportunity not an hour later. Klaus had casually reminded Lucien of the early morning conference call he had to cover for Klaus tomorrow. Which had led to a stream of semi-good natured grumbling, a demand that Klaus bring him back something pretty from The Windy City, and a quick exit. Marcel had spotted a pretty brunette on the other side of the bar making eyes at him, and had wandered off to make the lady's acquaintance. Leaving Klaus and Enzo conveniently alone.

Klaus wasted no time. "What do you know?"

"A great many things," Enzo drawled, a smug expression on his face that made Klaus' hands itch to curl into fists. He resisted, because Rebekah would become a holy terror, if he attempted to damage Enzo's face. She was fond of it apparently. Most of the time.

Still, that didn't mean a few creative threats couldn't be applied. And Klaus is opening his mouth, prepared to do just that, but Enzo speaks over him. "I know, for example, that you easily could've delegated this little business trip you're setting out on tomorrow. Lucien could have covered for you in Chicago, instead of here."

Klaus doesn't bother to deny that, "Yes, fine. I am technically overqualified for dealing with this particular matter. Is it a crime to want to get away for a bit now?"

"You were in London three weeks ago."

"Visiting Finn and Sage and their newborn," Klaus protests. "Hardly a relaxing vacation. Do you know how difficult it is to pretend a baby is fascinating? They don't do anything."

"Not the reaction your sister had," Enzo tells Klaus dryly before knocking back the rest of his drink. He sets the glass down, and crosses his arms, "Another thing that I know: you and Caroline have been communicating more frequently lately."

Klaus refuses to flinch under Enzo's measuring gaze, "Also not a crime. We're friends we've mostly been making plans for my time there."

Though their texts had grown distinctly flirty. Which was both the reason Klaus had been glued to his phone as of late, and the reason he was feeling a little out of his depth. He'd be lying if he claimed not to be flirting back, that he hadn't been testing the waters with teasing and innuendos, even as he'd thought it was likely a bad idea. Caroline had just been promoted (had sent him an email crowing about her new office. Thrilled with it, even if it was tiny and cramped. It was a 'bajillion' times better, she'd insisted, then her former cubicle with the neighbor who was obsessed with Spanish rap music, and another who insisted on running her space heater year round). She would be remaining in Chicago for the foreseeable future.

Klaus knows she'd broken up with Jesse and that she's coping fairly well. Rebekah had flown down the first weekend after it had happened with plans of buying out the nearest grocery store's stock of Haagen Dazs and peanut butter cups. She'd gone again, a few weeks later, this time with club clothes and a mission to find Caroline a rebound.

He'd not asked for details about either excursion.

"No one said anything about crimes. Bit defensive, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me? It's not as though every single person I know, including my mother, has definitive opinions on Caroline that they share with me at every available opportunity."

Enzo looks almost sympathetic for a second, "Right, I'll give you that one." Klaus rolls his eyes, is about to bite out an incredibly sarcastic expression of gratitude, but Enzo's next words stop him. "You'll be happy to know that Rebekah will be backing off with the interrogations. Or so she's agreed. Who knows if she'll actually manage such a thing."

He says it so nonchalantly, even as he's watching Klaus' reactions carefully, a hint of a smirk in place. Klaus feels his eyes narrowing, and he leans forward slightly. "Explain," he demands, fingers tightening on his beer bottle, fighting to keep from showing his surprise.

Klaus half expects Enzo to drag things out, just for his own personal amusement, is surprised when the other man offers up the information casually, "Seems Gorgeous and your sister had a bit of a spat. About you, and about me, and about the fact that we're all grown-ups who shouldn't need permission before indulging in grown up activities."

"And you know this how?" Klaus asks, still suspicious. He likes Enzo, for the most part, but he has no illusions about where the man's loyalties lie.

"Happened while they were both halfway to sloshed. Rebekah called me to rant about it. Did not take it well when I agreed with Caroline."

Klaus can imagine. Drunk Rebekah can be even more pigheaded then Sober Rebekah. And more difficult to reason with.

"Anyway. From what I gathered Caroline was prepared, bribed Rebekah with Rice Krispie treats and candy vodka and they hashed things out. Kindly saving me a bout of frosty silence and celibacy."

Klaus grimaced both at the reference to Enzo and Bekah's relationship and Caroline's manner of enticement. It sounded like a disgusting combination to him but Rebekah's sweet tooth was legendary. "Hashed what out?" he presses.

But Enzo's either decided that he's offered enough assistance, or he's truly out of information. "Sorry, mate. I'm not privy to the exact details. Something about pacts and an old agreement no longer applying? It was all oddly technical. Referenced a flurry of things I've no idea about."

Klaus nods, before he stands and pulls out his wallet. "That sounds about right for Caroline and Rebekah, to be honest. Thanks for the enlightenment, I suppose." He's sincere, because Enzo's given him some things to ponder, and maybe a little bit of insight into Caroline's behavior.

"I do like to do the occasional good deed," Enzo tells him cheerily, tipping his drink in Klaus' direction. "For the karma. Just in case. Enjoy your trip, Klaus."

Klaus says goodbye, and opts to walk the few blocks to his apartment, rather than trying to flag down a cab. He's about to reach into his pocket, intending to pull out his phone, and send a text to Caroline. He's tempted to see what he can glean from her with this new information fresh in his mind. But Klaus stops himself before he unlocks the screen, his instincts telling him that it's best to wait, to have this conversation in person.

It seems like the grown up thing to do.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and glances at the clock on the wall, biting back a curse. "Would you excuse me a minute?" he says, to the young artist he'd been tangling with all afternoon. "A friend was meeting me here, and we were supposed to go to dinner. I'm just going to call her and tell her to go ahead to the restaurant."

The girl, Davina Claire, purses her lips and glances back at the painting they'd been speaking of, "You can tell her to come up if you want. I think we're almost done, right?"

Klaus certainly hopes so, as he steps away to make the call. He and Caroline exchange a few quick words, and she agrees to make her way up to the studio space Davina rents. He turns back to Davina, to continue trying to convince her that the piece they'd been arguing about was wrong for this particular show. She's a stubborn little thing, this girl. Talented but inexperienced and far too headstrong. She'd shown at a few small galleries in Chicago and at another in Charleston. But her show at Klaus' gallery would be the biggest yet, and a great opportunity to meet new buyers. She was incredibly set in her ways and Klaus' attempts at persuasion had fallen flat. He didn't think she much cared for him, if the poorly disguised huffs of annoyance she'd made to some of his suggestions were anything to go by.

Honestly, Klaus almost regrets not sending Lucien as a go between.

Until Caroline walks in and he remembers the appeal of a weekend in Chicago.

She's wearing an orange dress, her legs bare and every bit as lovely as he remembers. She grins when she sees him, her high heels clicking on the battered wood floors. Klaus is surprised when she hugs him, because that's not something they typically do. And he's a touch embarrassed by how stiff he is, barely managing to pat her back, too distracted by the feel of her pressed against him, the familiar scent of her skin threatening to hurtle him back into his memories. Not something he's keen on considering their audience.

Caroline pulls away and focuses on Davina. She ignores Klaus then, turning her attention to the younger woman and offering her a hand and an easy smile, "Hey, I'm Caroline. It's nice to meet you."

Davina shakes the hand automatically, shooting Klaus a look that's equal part amused and speculative, "Davina. It's nice to meet you too. How do you know Klaus?"

"Old family friend," Caroline answers, flashing him a smirk. "His little sister and I have been tight since we thought boys had cooties."

That gets a small laugh out of Davina, and Klaus is almost surprised that she's capable of making such a sound, given how sullen she's been with him. "You can look around if you want," Davina offers. "Do you guys have a reservation?"

"Nope!" Caroline assures her. "I was just going to take Klaus to my fave Mexican place. I go there all the time so getting a table will be no trouble. Take your time." She spins away from them without another word, walking towards the nearest wall, her head tipping to the side to study the painting on it. It's a Chicago cityscape, done in pastel tones, blurry and dreamy. Whimsical. And rather lighter than most of Davina's work.

Davina lets out a tiny snort, tearing Klaus' attention away from Caroline, "Family friend, huh? That's not what it looks like to me," she says pointedly.

Klaus isn't about to dive into the nuances of his and Caroline's relationship with a girl he'd just met who can't be more than twenty. So he ignores her taunt, hoping she'll get the hint, and resumes their previous conversation.

And if Klaus is not as attentive as he had been before, attuned as he is to Caroline's movements throughout the room, Davina doesn't comment. Verbally, that is. But Klaus can deal with the amused set of her mouth and knowing eyes.

Comes to welcome them even. Caroline's arrival seems to have softened Davina slightly (and maybe Klaus as well, though he tells himself he's just eager to be done with this meeting) and they manage to compromise on the stickiest points. He's certain they'll cross swords again, when it comes time to install Davina's works in the gallery, but that's weeks away, and Klaus will just have ample time to prepare.

And they'll be on his turf.

Caroline's circled back to the first painting that had caught her eye when Klaus approaches. He touches her arm, slides his fingertips down the smooth skin of her forearm, to get her attention.

"I like this one," she says decisively.

Klaus glances at it. He hadn't seen the appeal, but on second look there is something very Caroline about the colors. "Well, now's the time to buy. Davina's about to become the next big thing, thanks to yours truly and her prices will skyrocket accordingly."

Caroline shakes her head, seemingly regretful, "Nope, not in the budget. I just bought a new bed and those things aren't cheap."

"Did you now?" Klaus teases, setting a hand on the palm of her back and ushering her towards the door. "Do tell me more."

"Oh, so we're going right to the pervy innuendos? Good to know. But I thought it was time to upgrade from the cheap double I bought after college. It was getting pretty squeaky."

Klaus swallows hard, grits his teeth at the images, some pleasant some decidedly not, that her words plant in his head. "Good thing you no longer have a flatmate to be considerate of," he remarks lightly.

"It's mostly pretty great, I can't lie. And I have friends who are usually up for hanging out the odd time I get lonely. And Kol."

"He doesn't have a key, does he?" Klaus asks suspiciously, turning towards Caroline as they wait for the elevator. He has an inkling of where things are headed, and while he's game to repeat some parts of the weekend he and Caroline had spent together years ago certain things, like the constant interruptions, he'd like to skip.

She throws her head back and laughs, jabbing the down button. "He does, for emergency purposes. But I might have stolen it a couple of days back."

Klaus appreciates her forethought.

The doors open and the elevator car is mercifully empty when they enter it. Klaus waits for Caroline to press the door for the lobby, and for the doors to close, before he steps in front of her. He sets a hand on her waist, watches the slight widening of her eyes as he skims it around her back, drawing her in until there's little space between their bodies. "In the interest of full disclosure, I must tell you that I had a little chat with our good friend Enzo yesterday."

The sly little grin that crosses Caroline's face is not what he'd expected, "I know. He called me."

"Did he?" Klaus murmurs, settling her body more firmly against him, "And was he right? Is whatever little agreement you and Rebekah had now null and void?"

Caroline bites her lip, her eyes drifting away, "Sort of."

Klaus finds he's completely unwilling to settle for vagaries. He waits until she looks back at him. They're at eye level with her in heels and hers are resolved, "Elaborate, sweetheart. Please."

She shifts, but makes no move to leave the circle of his arms, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. "I kind of glossed over a lot of what happened when we slept together when talking to Rebekah back in college."

"Made it seem like a dirty fling, yes? I remember that being the plan."

She pokes him, likely a reprimand for the bitterness in his tone, "I maintain that it was a solid plan at the time."

Klaus could argue, but it's a decision made years in the past so he sees little point. He's more interested in the present, and the apparent about face Caroline's made. "And now? What's different now?"

Caroline shrugs, picking at the fabric of his shirt, "Some things aren't. My life's still here. Your life's still in New York. But I think about you sometimes."

It's not exactly a surprise, for all that Caroline's kept a careful distance between them. Sometimes she'd looked at him a little too long, a little too thoughtfully, more heatedly then she'd probably meant to. But it is nice to hear. "Mmm, can't blame you. I do remember promising to be memorable."

That earns him a harsher poke, and an unimpressed huff, "Not like that, you jerk."

It might be a bit conceited buy Klaus is sure the look that he shoots her is incredulous. He'd been far from inexperienced, and he's not been celibate since. But the memories of his time with Caroline, how she'd moved and what she'd tasted like stay with him. And he's certain he's not alone in that.

"Okay, fine. Not just like that," Caroline corrects, with a roll of her eyes, confirming his suspicions.

Klaus runs his hand up her back, traces the skin at the nape of her neck with his fingertips, "I keep my promises. But I'm curious, was I the best you've ever had, Caroline?"

She looks like she's giving it serious consideration, and Klaus is honestly a little offended at the decisive 'no' that falls from her lips. She laughs, taking in his expression, lifting up a hand to pat his cheek, "At the time? Yeah, you totally were. But I was only 21, Klaus. I've learned a few things since then. It was good because I knew you, trusted you, but we only had a little time. There's something to be said for sex in a long term relationship, you know."

He feels a little stab of jealousy at how casually she says it, even as he privately resolves to bump himself back up to the top of whatever mental list Caroline keeps. This weekend if possible. And if not he's surer than ever that he'll have an opportunity in the future.

But first, they have things to sort out. "So what's this, then?" he asks, glancing down at her hands on him.

"It's whatever we want it to be. I want you. And I'm at a point where I can have you if you want me too. It's not casual because it's never been casual. And who knows, maybe that weekend was a fluke and it'll be weird and awkward and then I can stop thinking about you. And maybe we'll manage to just be friends."

"Do you really believe that?" Klaus asks skeptically. Because he certainly doesn't.

Caroline sighs, shakes her head. "Not even a little bit."

Klaus nods, feeling mollified, "So this weekend is what, a second appetizer?"

"If you want it to be. Otherwise we can just have dinner. Hang out. Keep it strictly platonic."

He glances down at their proximity, not something that could be mistaken for friendly, with a raised eyebrow, "I think it's a bit late for that."

"What's a little upright snuggling between friends? I practically had to carry Rebekah out of the bar a couple weeks ago."

"Ah yes. Was this before or after you fought about me?"

"After," Caroline replies easily. "I told her that whatever happens with you and me, whatever I feel for you, has nothing to do with me and her. Or you and her. And she's agreed to keep her opinions on the subject to herself. As much as she's able."

Klaus doesn't miss the use of the word feel. He's glad she'd used it so casually, thinks it a good sign. But he doesn't press. "I am curious as to how you managed that."

Caroline smiles, slow and devious, "She already felt bad about Enzo so I might have played that up. As my best male bud and roommate he was technically off limits. And she was pretty sneaky about it for a while. Total violation of girl code."

"I'm beginning to thing you've spent far too much time with us Mikaelsons. We've warped you."

Caroline scoffs, shoving him away as the elevator doors open, "Please. I was manipulating my Daisy Troop and racing past all the other girls to earn badges before I met any of you. I like to win. Always have, always will."

"I remember," Klaus says, reaching down and threading his fingers through hers. "It's why you still owe me a date, remember?"

She squeezes his hand, pulling him to the left, "What, this doesn't count?"

"No. If I recall correctly, and I know I do, the terms specified that I would ask you to dinner. And in this instance I never asked, you suggested. Therefore this doesn't count."

Caroline sighs, long and exaggerated, but Klaus doesn't miss the pleased smile on her face. "Whatever. You're still paying."

Dinner's fun, the place Caroline takes him too worthy of the raving she'd done about it. The woman at the hostess' stand had greeted Caroline by name, giving Klaus a not so subtle once over before she'd ushered them to a cozy booth in a quiet corner. She'd leaned in and muttered something too low for Klaus to catch, but Caroline had laughed, her color heightening, so Klaus had assumed the woman's comments were both about him, and highly complimentary.

He'd let Caroline order, and her picks had been delicious. They're lingering over dessert. Well, Caroline is. She'd offered to share but clearly hadn't actually wanted to so Klaus is content with finishing his drink and watching her devour the slice of dark chocolate cake in front of her.

They'd caught up and Klaus is attempting to convince Caroline that Davina Claire isn't nearly as nice as her diminutive appearance and sweet face make her seem. Caroline remains skeptical, "Um, she was adorable. The top was a little boho tragic, yes. But I'm sure she'll grow out of that. Hopefully."

"She was not adorable. She was a pit bull," Klaus sniffs. "With no idea what she was talking about."

Caroline licks chocolate sauce off of her spoon, and Klaus watches avidly, finds himself shifting in his seat at the sight. Caroline notices, smirking as she points the utensil at him, "As a sensitive artist type you should understand sensitive artist types, shouldn't you?"

"I'm not sensitive," Klaus denies. "Ask anybody."

"You can be," Caroline replies firmly. "When you choose to. How is your painting going, by the way?" She leans forward, propping her elbow on the table. It's a subject she asks about fairly regularly, and Klaus usually dodges. Caroline's just about the only person who knows that he's picked up painting again and as far as he knows she's kept it to herself.

"It's… going," Klaus says slowly. He's got dozens of canvases in various stages of completion but he's yet to be happy with any of them. "I'm not actually sure if I know what's good anymore, to be honest."

Caroline's eyebrows furrow and she pushes her plate away, "Isn't that kind of your job?"

Klaus snorts derisively, "What's good and what sells isn't often the same thing, love. You just have to convince the right people that they think something's good, and then all of their friends and hangers on are dropping obscene amounts of cash on whatever's trendy."

"So Davina? Not actually good, just marketable?" Caroline asks curiously.

"A little bit of both," Klaus admits. "I think she tries a bit too hard, if that makes sense? To be darker and more serious then she needs to be. But there is actual talent. Far more than some of the artists I've helped show successfully."

"That's a little depressing," Caroline notes, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

Privately Klaus agrees. Their waitress dropped off the check before he can formulate a response. Caroline digs her wallet out of her purse and Klaus raises an eyebrow at the offered credit card, "I thought I was paying?"

"I was kidding, Klaus. This is the 21st century. I can buy my own tacos."

He pushes it away, sliding his own into the leather folder, "And have you thinking I'm a terrible date? I don't think so."

She glares, but it's more playful then anything, as she puts her Visa away. "I already know you're a good date. And it has nothing to do with who covers the bill."

Klaus spies the waitress returning and he waits until she's left before he speaks, "Oh? Do tell. What have I done to convince you of my good date qualities?"

Caroline laughs, "Are you asking me for tips on how to pick up women right now? Because I'm not sure I'm cool with that."

"Not women," Klaus shoots back. "Just one in particular."

"Hmm," Caroline taps a fingertip to her chin, making a show of thinking it over. "I like that you didn't try to hog my cake."

Klaus chuckles, shaking his head, "I am well aware of the fact that you don't like to share food, love."

"A definite point in your favor. It usually takes guys awhile to figure that out. And let's see. I know that you can dance, which is always a plus. You've totally figured out the ideal cologne coverage. You laugh at my jokes, not that anyone with half a brain wouldn't. Because I am hilarious."

Klaus presses his lips together to keep from smiling, when Caroline looks at him pointedly, clearly waiting for him to crack and laugh. He's doing it solely to be contrary but it makes Caroline's smile brighter, "See? I like that too. You're not willing to let me walk all over you thinking it'll make it easier to get into my pants."

"You're not wearing pants," he points out.

Caroline's lips curve, her lashes lowering as she leans forward. Her voice is low, teasing when she speaks again, "Pants might not be the only thing I'm not wearing, Klaus."

He stills, stunned by the abrupt turn the conversation had taken. Klaus swallows hard as Caroline shifts. She slides over so she's on his side of the booth, her thigh pressing against his. "It's one of the things I think about," she tells him quietly, her lips brushing his skin as she speaks. "Do you remember what you said to me in the cab that first night?"

Klaus nods, because of course he does, his hand dropping to her thigh, tracing the skin above her knee. "That I'd get you off with my fingers in the backseat, the driver none the wiser? Watch your skin flush and your teeth sink into your lip as you struggle not to moan for me?"

She lets out a little hum that vibrates against his skin, and he lets his hand drift higher. Caroline parts her thighs obligingly, leaning back, "And I'm not saying I want that," she murmurs, "especially since there's cameras in most cabs. But I like the fantasy."

Klaus does too. He tilts his head so he can watch her, watch her tongue peeking out to wet her lips, her breath coming out slightly too fast as his hand glides further underneath her skirt. She's looking past him and Klaus doesn't like that, wants her full attention, as hot as the idea of doing this in public is. So he brushes his fingertips against her, just high enough to confirm that Caroline had been telling the truth, that she's wearing nothing under her dress. He enjoys the little gasp she lets out, the way she squirms when he touches her, before pulling his hand away.

She makes a noise in protest, trying to trap his hand with her thighs, but Klaus is faster. He kisses her slow and lazy as a distraction, his hand on her neck keeping her close, until her lips are clinging to his and she's got her hands fisted in his shirt. A throat clears behind them and Caroline pulls away, shifting back to her side of the table.

She's all the way on the other side of the booth by the time Klaus has signed the receipt, smoothing down her hair. It's piled on top of her head in some kind of knot, but little wisps have escaped, no match for the warm restaurant or the evening's humidity.

Klaus can't wait to take it down, have his hands wrapped in it.

Caroline catches his eye, her hand falling to rest on the table, "So, my place?" she asks, almost as if she expects him to refuse.

Klaus smirks, "My hotel is closer."

Caroline shakes her head in denial, "Nope, sorry. If I paid for a night for a hotel room I didn't need you can too. Plus you still owe me pancakes."

"I made pancakes!" Klaus protests.

"Belated pancakes, that I had to share, don't count. Plus, I just bought a brand new bed. It has to be better than the one at your hotel that holds the skin cells and fluids of hundreds of strangers trapped in the mattress."

He grimaces, momentarily disgusted by the mental image, "Was that necessary?"

Her expression is all sunny innocence as she hops out of the booth, leaning into him, her hand dropping to his belt, tugging until her hips press into his. He'd begun to harden while touching her in the booth, and he clenches his teeth to keep in a groan at the pressure of her body against where he's just beginning to ache for her. "Thought I'd help you with your not so little problem," she whispers impishly. She brushes her lips against his, her hand ghosting lower. Klaus tenses and he just feels her mouth just starting to pull into a smile. But then she's gone, walking towards the door, leaving him embarrassingly out of it considering how simple a touch it was.

She spins back when she's a few steps away, gesturing impatiently for him to get a move on.

He hurries to follow. Klaus knows better than to keep Caroline waiting.

Caroline's place isn't far so they decide to walk. Klaus is privately relieved, not quite trusting himself to be alone with her in the back of a cab, with her words from earlier still fresh in his mind, cameras or no cameras.

It's mostly silent, Caroline offering the odd direction. He's only been to her place a few times and always with either Rebekah or Kol. He doesn't touch her, save for the occasional brush of her arm against his as the walk. She sneaks glances at him occasionally though there's no trace of nerves this time. She seems eager, excited, and Klaus' heart begins to thrum in anticipation.

Their luck with elevators is sadly lacking this time and Caroline makes polite conversation with her neighbors while they ascend to her flat on the fifth floor. Klaus is introduced but doesn't bother to retain their names. He manages a polite nod when they exit and he trails Caroline as they make their way to the door.

She fumbles with her tiny bag (and how it's hard to find keys in a space so small Klaus isn't certain). Caroline stiffens for a moment when he steps up behind her, skimming his hand up her side, but relaxes into him when he drops a kiss on her shoulder, "Anything I can help you with, love?" Klaus asks innocently as he drags his mouth over her skin, up to her ear. Caroline's head tips to the side to give him more room. Klaus smiles against her skin, noting that her hands have stopped moving. He'd bet anything her eyes are closed. He plants another kiss just below her ear, darts his tongue out to taste her skin, relishing the little shudder she makes against him. "The door, Caroline," Klaus reminds her.

She seems to shake herself, begins muttering under her breath, finally unearthing her keys and getting them into the lock. She nudges him back, shoots a warning look over her shoulder, "Stop distracting me."

Klaus holds up his hands, moving back a step, "But it's ever so much fun."

He hears the lock click open but Caroline doesn't open the door. She turns, pressing her shoulders against the wood. She taps a finger against his chest, "But not the kind of fun I had planned. We're at my apartment this time. So I think it's only fair if I get to run things."

Klaus is equal parts amused (because it's so very Caroline to attempt a takeover, even in so personal an arena) and intrigued by this version of Caroline, more confident and sure of herself. He's not at all opposed to this evening being about her wants. But a quiet passive participant Klaus is not. "You didn't seem to have any problems with the way I ran things the last time we did this."

She shrugs, not denying his claim, "Because I didn't. But when I said I'd thought about you I meant it, Klaus. And I fully intend to make some of those thoughts a reality." Caroline reaches behind her, turns the doorknob and backs into her apartment. Her tone turns coaxing, her eyes fixed on his lips, "I promise you'll like them very much."

It's a promise Klaus is helpless to resist, following her into her apartment.

Caroline drops her bag on the table, unclasps her necklace and sets it down too. "I suppose I should offer you a drink, right?"

"We both know that's not why I'm here, love." Klaus toes off his shoes, reaches for Caroline but she smirks, dodging his hands.

She makes a disapproving noise, walking backwards, "You're a little young yet for short-term memory problems, aren't you?"

Klaus rolls his eyes, even as he keeps pace with her, "Age digs, really? I thought we were over that."

"I've always been over that."

And Klaus honestly is too. The age gap remains the same but it's less important. It's not just that she's no longer in school, supports herself, and lives on her own. But it's in the way she carries herself, the insecurities she's managed to shake off. "As am I," he tells her firmly.

Caroline seems pleased, her sharp nod filled with satisfaction. She reaches out touches him, running her hands under his shirt. "Good." She stops abruptly, her hand flattening on his chest. She glances behind her and pivots them, and Klaus feels his legs bump into something. She pushes and Klaus takes the hint sitting down on a wide leather ottoman. Caroline lifts his shirt, the fabric bunching around her wrists, and Klaus helps her strip it off. He barely registers that she's tossed it behind her because Caroline sets her hands on his shoulders, and lowers herself on to his lap, knees on either side of his hips.

A position that Klaus has no complaints about, "I think I like your way, love," he remarks, setting his hand on her thighs.

She kisses him, instead of replying, her hands sliding up and tilting his head where she wants it. A nip of her teeth and Klaus opens his mouth to her seeking tongue almost too distracted by the taste of her to focus on the warm, firm skin underneath his palms.

Almost.

But his hands move up, relearning the feel of her, pulling her closer and rocking his lower half up into hers. Caroline pulls back with a moan, her eyes growing heavy lidded, legs widening as she grinds down. She seems to lose herself for several seconds and Klaus bites back a curse at the delicious pressure, watching her lashes flutter as she moves. He's shifted his hand, intent on touching her, but she stops and lifts herself off of him slightly, shifting back. "Again with the distracting," she admonishes breathlessly.

Caroline reaches back, and Klaus lifts his hands to span her waist, as her back arches away from him. She makes quick work of her shoes, pulling the zippers and tossing them aside before she stands.

And then she sinks to her knees.

Klaus sucks in a breath, his muscles locking in anticipation. "Caroline," he grits out.

She shoots him a sly little smile, leans forward to press a kiss to his chest, her hands wandering down his abdomen, feather light brushes that leave his muscles twitching. When she says his name it's practically a purr, "Klaus."

Her fingers make quick work of his belt, and the fastenings of his jeans, and he lifts his hips when she pulls. She gets his boxers and socks down in one go, sitting back on her heels to look at him when she's pushed everything to the side, biting her lip and shifting restlessly. Like she can't decide what she wants to do first.

It's déjà vu, even if the positions are reversed. And Klaus doesn't know if he's ever felt quite this naked. "I seem to remember letting you keep your dress, love."

Caroline grins, even as she shuffles forward, easing between his legs. "At least I'm not asking you to hook your leg over a chair arm."

"I'm not that flexible." The last word comes out like a gasp, because she's wrapped her fist around the base of him, and sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. She doesn't tease him, her cheeks hollowing around his length immediately, tearing a groan from him. Her hands work in tandem, pumping and rolling and his legs are shaking, his hands clenched around the edge of the cushions, as he tries to hold on and not embarrass himself, in short minutes. But it's so good, the heat and the little noises of enjoyment she's making, the faint bite of her nails on his thigh.

She pulls back, when he's just on the edge, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. This time when he says her name it's panted syllables and a complaint.

Her hands are still working his cock, too gently now, and her head dips forward. "Unzip my dress," she requests, voice husky.

Klaus swallows hard, and reaches out, clumsily searching for the tab at the back of her neck. He finally grasps it and leans forward to pull it down. He lets out a hoarse grunt when she licks him again, tongue flicking over the head, reaching down and unhooking her bra.

He wants to whine when she pulls away this time, but she's stripping off her dress and flinging her bra aside. And the sight of her, all that bare skin, her nipples tight and lips wet, isn't something he can complain about. It's right out of the fantasies he's never stopped having about her.

"Come here," he grits out, intent on pulling her into his lap again, wrapping those long legs around his hips. But Caroline shakes her head in refusal, as stubborn as ever. Klaus tries a little enticement, "Did I do nothing for you in these dirty thoughts you've been having? I find that hard to believe. I want to touch you, Caroline."

Caroline laughs and Klaus shudders as the puffs of air tease his sensitive skin, "Oh you definitely did. And I'm sure you will. But first…"

And then she's got her lips wrapped around him, taking him fast and deep and Klaus' teeth grind together to keep from shouting. She's merciless, sucking hard and rasping her tongue over a place that has him shaking. It takes her no time at all to shove him back to the edge, and then over it, her name coming out a garbled mess when he tries to warn her. She hums around him, swallowing as he comes, and Klaus' eyes close as he breathes through it, skin hot and tight, ripples of sensation arcing through his limbs.

She makes a pleased little noise when she pulls back, and Klaus' eyes slit open to look at her. He offers her a hand and she takes it this time, climbing to her feet. Her hands run through his hair as his mouth presses into her stomach. "I believe this is the part where you stutter out an awkward thank you," Caroline jokes.

Klaus smiles, nipping at her belly button before rolling his head back to look at her, "Would you accept a more physical expression of gratitude, love?"

She pretends to think about it and Klaus shifts up, rubbing his lips over her nipple before taking it between his teeth, running his fingers down the line of her spine. Her nails dig into his scalp, a moan spilling from her lips as she pushes more of her breast into his mouth.

"Bedroom," she clips out, taking a reluctant step back.

But Klaus can't wait that long. "Later," he murmurs, gripping her hips and setting her down on the arm of the chair behind him. He's ducking down before she can protest, pushing her thighs open and swiping his tongue through her folds. She curses, but her leg lifts, foot rising to plant on the seat, offering him more, one of her arms reaching back to help her stay balanced.

It's all the invitation Klaus needs, and he's soon got two fingers buried inside of her and is teasing her clit with the point of his tongue.

He's sure Caroline will have something to say about this later, about the fact that he's distracted her once again. But Klaus is convinced that she'll forgive him. He'll merely offer to explore the next dirty thought on her list. Looks forward to it, since the first one was such a delight.

They make it to her bed eventually and Klaus has to admit that it is exceptionally nice. And a small part of him derives some satisfaction from the idea that he's the first man to be invited into it.

Klaus has no idea what time it is, how long they've been drifting. He'd not slept, not properly, mind too active. Caroline's been breathing evenly against him and when she shifts, curling her leg over his thighs, he's easily nudged into alertness. His cock stirs, very interested in beginning round three, particularly when she stretches against him, her grip on his side firming as she wakes. He traces the nape of her neck, and Caroline's lips part on a sigh, "Mmm," she mumbles. "Hi."

Klaus finds himself smiling down at her, as she pushes her tangled hair from her face. She'd taken it down for him earlier, straddling his stomach while he'd played with her nipples. "Hello, love. Sleep well?"

Caroline fits herself more snugly against him, her lips finding her shoulder, "Well enough. What time's your flight?"

His good mood dips with the reminder that this is just temporary, another interlude before they go back to separate lives. "Six," he tells her. "On Sunday. Which gives us what, thirty-eight, forty hours this time?"

Caroline doesn't look any happier at the reminder, face creasing with a hint of distress. "I'm not sure exactly what time it is but that sounds about right."

"Wonderful," Klaus finds himself muttering, the single word hard and bitter.

Caroline stiffens next to him, begins to pull away. "You're pissed. I'm sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea. And I know it was my bad idea but I just…"

Klaus moves instinctively, not letting her get far. He wraps an arm around her waist, rolling over her. He balances on his forearms above her, "Hey, no. I'm not angry with you, Caroline. And this isn't a bad idea. It's a fantastic idea."

"As mine usually are," she jokes, a small smile curling her lips.

He brushes his mouth over the corner of hers, at the small dimple that's formed. "I knew exactly what I was doing when I followed you back here. I knew I'd have to go, that the timing's still awful. But I'm surer than ever that it won't always be. That whatever this is it's real even if we can't label it right now."

She looks at him for a long while, considering. But her body relaxes under his, her thighs spreading to accommodate him as he lets his weight settle against her.

He's just about to kiss her, to untangle her from the sheets so he can see her, chase away any doubts about how much he wants to be here with her, but her next words give him pause. "Eighteen months."

Klaus pulls back a bit, blinking in confusion.

"Eighteen months," Caroline repeats. "Give or take… let's say three. Until I'm done in Chicago. I've got my eye on a position in our New York branch and I think I can do it in…"

"Eighteen months," Klaus finishes, understanding dawning along with a little thrill of excitement, growing warmth.

"Exactly."

She pulls him down, fitting her mouth to his, as her hands drift down his back. Klaus sinks into the kiss, into the feel of her skin, even as the weight of her words continues to reverberate.

Caroline's been a thought in the back of his mind for years already, a possibility that he'd never been willing to let go of. He's never had anything but his gut feeling that they'd find their way, in some vague and distant time and place. But he's got a time frame now, and even if it's not exactly soon, it's a fraction of the length of time he's been waiting.

Klaus can handle eighteen months.

He jolts when her nails dig into his lower back, pulling back to look at her questioningly. Caroline wraps a leg around his hip and pushes, shoving him over onto his back. "You seem a little distracted," she tells him, throwing a leg over his hips and shoving the blanket aside. She leans down, licks at his collarbone, and then moves up. Klaus' neck arches back making way for her soft kisses and gentle nips. "It's kinda rude," she tells him playfully, when her lips are hovering over his.

He sits up, and her fingers splay on his abdomen, a little appreciative murmur coming from her, before she scratches lightly. "So sorry, love. How can I acquit myself?"

Caroline reaches for his hand, draws it down between them and Klaus is more than willing to run with her suggestion, sliding his fingers through the wet heat of her, watching her face as her hips roll in time with his strokes to her clit.

"That's it, Caroline. Do you like that?"

"More," she demands even as her head falls back as he slips a finger inside of her. Klaus bites back a curse watching as she brings a hand up to toy with her nipple, the other fisted in his hair.

She comes on his hand, beautiful in her abandon, all flushed skin and needy moans. Klaus sucks the taste of her from his fingers as he pushes inside, past her fluttering muscles with a groan. He's always surprised at how good she feels clenched around him, how hot and tight and perfect. He wonders if it'll ever stop being a surprise, even as he sort of doubts it.

Coherent thought is soon beyond him as Caroline begins to move, a slow slide of her hips up and a quick thrust down that has him pushing up for more, chasing his high even as he watches her reach for hers. He's greedy, his hands running over her smooth skin, dampened by their exertions. For the feel of her, the way she moves against him.

Klaus might have a timetable now, an idea of when he can have this all the time, if things go as he's planned. But he doesn't know if he'll get this again until then. So he hoards the memories, the sensations. The tastes and scents and the sounds that Caroline makes, the hoarse exhalation of his name from her swollen lips. Just in case they're all he'll have to sustain him.

Up Next: A Birthday!