Klaus does end up buying you Plan B. You wash it down with a Wendy's frosty.

"It's not possible," Klaus insists, "I would know."

"Isn't it?" You ask reasonably, "Weren't you cursed only to be a vampire until recently?"

"This is ridiculous. It's an impossibility."

You spoon more frosty into your mouth and correctly choose not to pursue that argument again. (But you would win. A) Klaus hasn't slept with any werewolves or humans since becoming a hybrid, so how would he know and B) he's a vampire, you're already pushing the limits of 'reality').

"We'll check with Freya when we get back. What time does the flight leave again?"

"An hour." Klaus's hands remain tense on the steering wheel. "Looks like we'll just about make it. Sorry to cut our vacation short."

You smile small in the corner of your mouth.

"Klaus, it's alright. This seems, you know, at least minimally important."

He laughs, a sharp bark.

"Some could say."

"So…" You start, not sure if you should even ask, "What do you think the others are going to say?"

"They won't say anything. Because I am not capable of procreating."

You roll your eyes.

"Humor me. Pretend Freya does a little witchy scan and tells you that against all possibility, you can have little baby hybrids."

"I won't tell them anything at all and I'll be the first vampire ever to get a vasectomy."

You snort.

"Don't want kids then?"

Klaus opens his mouth to respond and then gets a frightened, hesitant expression on his face that you recognize in husbands talking to their wives.

"Do you… want children?"

"Calm down. I did just make us get Plan B."

Klaus visibly relaxes. He's silent for a moment. Someone in a Honda Civic cuts in front of you like they're street-racing.

"I considered it, once, when I was human. It's what was expected of us in that time. I was scared of repeating my father's mistakes. I think that's perhaps why I dragged my feet settling down, much to my mother's dismay. Then again," he muses, "She killed us all before we could marry. Perhaps she just didn't want to be a grandmother. Some women get antsy about that."

You laugh and then sober again.

"You're not your father, you know."

"Perhaps. You can come to your own conclusion after you meet him."

Your eyebrows knit together.

"Isn't he dead?"

Klaus's knuckles go white on the steering wheel. The blinker clicks. "No one stays dead for long in our family," he says cryptically, "It's been long enough since our mother brought Finn back to life. It's only a matter of time before she explores other avenues, if she hasn't already."

"Wow," you remark, "I can't believe I'm going to meet your parents before you meet mine."

Even Klaus laughs at that.

The flight back home is short. You're sad at leaving your ceramic projects in Klaus's penthouse until he reassures you that he can have it shipped. (Money can do almost everything, and compulsion takes care of the rest).

Your house smells stale when you walk inside. Like no one's been in it for a week. Which is why it's surprising when Rebekah walks out of your bedroom.

You yelp.

"How long have you been in there?"

She rolls her eyes at your horrified voice. "Relax, I came by an hour ago when Nik said you were coming back."

"Sorry," you say dryly, dumping your bag by the door, "I just didn't expect you to be living in my house when I got back."

"I have not been living inside your house! I do have my own home."

"With your siblings. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to get away."

Rebekah rolls her eyes and you're struck with the acute feeling that you missed her.

"Now, I do have a bit of a day p—" You cut Rebekah off by lifting her up into a hug. Her arms instinctively wrap around you.

"Oh," she says, looking down at you, "Hello."

You grin up at her.

"I missed you."

"I can see that," she says dryly, arching an eyebrow, "You slept with my brother, didn't you?"

You drop her unceremoniously to the ground.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you say, sputtering, "Why would you say something like that?"

Rebekah's grin only widens.

"So you did. I'm surprised you're back again already, you've only been gone a week. I would have thought he'd keep you longer."

You don't know if you should mention the topic of Klaus's possible fertility or not. (Especially when Rebekah has shown to be particularly sensitive around the subject of families).

Ultimately, you decide against it.

"Maybe I missed you all," you sniff, "Ever think of that."

She smiles again, this time something genuine.

"I did," she says. her eyes glow with something uncharacteristically warm before she snaps back into action. "Now, as I was saying, I have plans for us today. I made reservations at—" Rebekah stops halfway through her monologue, probably due to your increasingly uncomfortable expression, "You don't want to go out at all today, do you?"

"No," you say, relieved, "I kind of just want to curl up in a ball and stay in with you."

"Well," Rebekah sniffs, "I suppose that can be arranged."

"Have I ever told you that you're the best?"

"Not nearly as often as you should."

She has the same expression on her face that sits frozen in Klaus's painting: proud with a glimmer of mischief. It looks the same now as it does portrayed in oil.

"I'll try to tell you more often," you say dryly.

Her lips twitch into a smile before she straightens.

"Do you remember my text about a package arriving for you?"

"… Yes?" You lie.

"I may have mislead you a bit."

"You're scaring me."

"I thought I would take advantage of your absence to put in a fireplace."

Of course she did.

"How?"

"It honestly wasn't that hard to put in," she says, "You already had a chimney there. To be quite honest, I have no idea why the previous owners boarded it up."

She's not lying. There's a new fireplace in your living room, hiding out of sight of your doorway. You stand unblinkingly in front of it. It's big enough that you could roast a human if you wanted to. (Knowing the Mikaelsons, that's actually a possibility).

"That explains the antique brick," you remark, tracing a finger against the rough surface, "How did you get it put together so quickly?"

She flashes a smile. "Compulsion goes a long way."

Of course. You remember when you didn't let the Mikaelsons get away with so much. Those days are long over.

"I think a day in requires a fire, there's some wood on the back porch if you could make one."

Subtle, Rebekah is not. You humor her and get a pile of wood off the back porch. Rebekah's lounging on your couch when you get back.

"Making yourself at home, I see."

She flashes a smile. "Always."

Your lips twitch as you bend down to stack wood on the ledge of fireplace.

"So, how did you spend your days without me to bother?"

"Are you saying I annoy you?"

Rebekah's voice is practiced. You turn your head with a wide, plastered on smile as you kneel in front of the fireplace.

"No darling, you have never annoyed me once in your entire life. Why would you ever suggest such a thing?"

You blink and Rebekah's in front of you, taking your head and forcing you to crane your neck to look up at her. You refuse to admit the save of butterflies that releases. Rebekah doesn't need her ego stoked. Well, any more than usual.

"You ought to watch your tone with me."

"Or what?"

Rebekah's eyes glimmer. You nearly keen with disappointment when she releases you.

"Set the fire. I'll make tea."

You swallow around whatever is lodged in your throat and obey. It takes several tries to get the fire going. You lament never being a girl scout.

"And for the record," Rebekah says when she returns with two cups, "I was quite busy while you were gone."

"I was just teasing, Rebekah. You know I have barely any frame of reference for what you all get up to when I'm not here."

Her eyes glimmer with amusement as she drinks her tea, standing over you. You accept the mug of tea when she extends it.

"I highly doubt you want to hear about my visits with Freya and trying to find a half decent seamstress in a fifty mile radius."

"You've been seeing Freya?"

If you hadn't been looking for it, you might have missed the brief tension that shot through Rebekah when you asked.

"Yes. I thought it was only right since we're… sisters."

You don't comment on the verbal ellipses.

"How is that going?"

Rebekah pauses too long. (Is she doing this on purpose? you start to wonder. The Mikaelsons are not obvious when they try to manipulate you. You are under no illusions that they don't influence you on the daily. But this is so obvious. It's like she wants you to know she's suspicious of her new found sister).

Or maybe you're over thinking things. Klaus seems to trust her if the issue of his fertility is any indication.

Well, as much as Klaus trusts anyone.

"It's going well," she eventually says, "She and Kol have been bonding, strangely."

You think of Kol's eyes when he talks about magic. "It's not too surprising."

"And she and Finn have been inseparable, of course."

"Your family is all back together."

Rebekah hums, expression stormy. "Almost."

It's strange how one word can make you so apprehensive.

"So," she says, expression clearing, Are you going to tell me what you did in New York or am I going to have to drag it out of you?"

You flush thinking of the very last thing you did in New York. You take a sip of your tea to delay speaking. Vervain with two sugars.

"Most exciting thing: we went to an unveiling exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum because your brother wanted to rob it, most enjoyable was probably doing ceramics in Klaus's studio. Plus standard eating out at fancy restaurants where I can barely read the menus. Would it kill you and your family to eat at normal places?"

"It would at least desiccate us. Niklaus robbed the Metropolitan? Without me? He knows I've been trying to get us to go as a family for nearly a century!"

You shrug and fiddle with the fire as Rebekah sprawls delicately on the couch. Your knees ache. "If it makes you feel better, I had a melt down and we had to leave early."

"Well," she sniffs, "At least next time we can all go together. I believe Elijah has some artifacts locked away as well."

"What could he possibly have? Books? An ivory chess set?"

"Ironically enough," she says dryly, "I think he does. Plus a truly extraordinary amount of jewelry that he absolutely refuses to share despite not appreciating it the way I would. He turned a gold-smith several centuries ago to join his cult and he's kept a iron grip on them ever since."

"Join his what now?"

Rebekah does not explain.

"We have odd lives."

You look at her, unimpressed. "Yes. I can tell."

The fire finally picks up. You set your tea aside to add another log to the fire. Flames shoot upward into the chimney, sparks flying in the air before you take your place on the opposite end of the couch. The fire warms your face with a dry, burning heat.

"You're avoiding speaking about my brother. Why? It's obvious you slept together."

You dart straight past flushing and right into burning so hot it rivals the fire. "Most people don't like hearing about sexual encounters people have with their siblings."

Rebekah wrinkles her nose. "Trust me, I know too many things about my brothers already. I do not need details. It's just odd you haven't said anything at all."

You wrap a throw blanket tighter around you.

"I don't know," you say, fiddling with the long tassels on a pillow, "I've just never been the sharing type."

Rebekah's lips quirk up, unendingly amused.

"How conservative of you."

You throw the pillow at her. She catches it without trying.

"Shut up."

Rebekah takes the opportunity, grinning broadly.

"Make me."

You burn hot and turn your attention resolutely to the fire.

"I guess I've never really had relationships to share about. Nothing important, anyway."

"Did your partners not want you to share?"

You pluck at invisible lint, collecting fuzz in your palm. "Kinda. I pretty much just had flings through college. I'm pretty boring. Not many people want to have a real relationship with the quiet unassuming girl who's more worried about her work schedule than having fun."

"I don't find you boring."

You smile a little at that.

"Rebekah I think the only reason I'm interesting to you is by contrast of the insane people you see every day. I'm interesting by contrast of being dull."

"That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard, and I'm related to Kol. Darling, how many people do you think would have run screaming in your situation?"

"Almost everyone in the world," you say without missing a beat. Rebekah gestures at you accusingly with your own teacup.

"See! The very action speaks to unsoundness. Boring people run. Interesting ones stay."

You like to think you can argue until you're blue in the face, but even you don't have a response for Rebekah.

"That is a… unique approach."

Rebekah settles back into her spot, satisfied. "You'll see that I'm right. I do find the need to speak with any of your prior partners who didn't appreciate you."

"Please do not do that," you blurt out.

Rebekah grins sharply.

"Though," you say some moments later, "I wouldn't mind if you had a talking to with any of my previous roommates. Did you know my last roommate moved out without telling me and I had to cover her rent?" Rebekah makes a noise you can interpret as a suitably disgusted reaction from someone who has never had to pay rent in her life. "She was at least still better than the first roommates I ever had."

"What was wrong with them?"

"Oh, they were avid drug users and generally very creepy. And in their thirties. Luckily I had a deadbolt on my door."

"I often wish we had found you earlier."

"Well," you say dryly, "I was seventeen, so that would have been more than a little predatory." Rebekah smiles, sanguine, and you cut her off before she can reply. "If you say 'age is just a number' right now I am going to scream."

Rebekah laughs.

"You know me so well, darling."

"What a frightening statement," you murmur against your cup.

You can't imagine your younger self meeting the Mikaelsons. Even just a few years ago you were drastically less self-assured. You never would have been brave enough to stand up for yourself in the presence of people more powerful than yourself on an unimaginable scale. You can barely do it now.

Rebekah stays late into the evening. Too late to send her home, if she were a normal guest.

"— And Kol told, like the little rat he is, so Nik daggered me for a good six months when I really did nothing wrong!"

"Do you want to stay the night?" You blurt out in the middle of Rebekah's story.

Rebekah's expression goes blank only for a split second before breaking into a honey-sweet smile.

"If you wanted me so badly, you could have just said so."

Your face goes hot again. You're afraid you're going to burn away your nerve endings at this point.

"I meant for a sleepover!"

"Sure you did," she says airily. She sounds so much like Kol right now it sends a pang of longing through your chest. (It's easy to tell who's closest to who in their family when you look closely).

"Do you want to or not?"

Her smile fades incrementally.

"I'd love to," she says quietly.

Rebekah stays.

She traces a hand on your bed as the two of you get ready for sleep (made easier by the fact Rebekah got you most of your clothes and a good amount of your toiletries. It does pay to be a sugar baby).

"Elijah did a wonderful job picking this piece out. It's difficult to find vintage circle beds in good condition."

"Is it?"

Rebekah hums the affirmative. "'Lijah keeps a catalog on all the major antique dealers in the world. He's obsessed with history to a worrying degree. Sometimes I get worried about him living in the past."

You suppose there is a difference between being a historian because of being interested by the past and having actually lived through it. (You're starting to realize there's more you don't know about the Mikaelsons than you thought).

You get into your pajamas while Rebekah uses your bathroom. They're plain cotton pajamas that are warm enough for the still-cold nights. You stifle a yawn as you slip under the covers.

You don't think you realized how tired you were until your head hits the pillow— awareness draining out of you in an instant. The bathroom door clicks shut. Rebekah laughs under her breath as she settles under your duvet with you, her warmth leeching into the sheets. Your hand finds hers.

"Night Beka," you murmur.

You hear her smile.

"Goodnight darling."

You fall asleep rapidly and completely.

.

.

.

It's still dark out when you gain some measure of awareness, still half asleep. You're holding onto Rebekah, back pressed against your front. You feel the soft rising of her chest. It's so… human. Your heart fills with unyielding warmth. You press a kiss to her shoulder and settle in to fall back asleep.

Rebekah's breathing pauses.

She turns slowly over.

"Are you awake?" She whispers.

She already knows. You answer anyway.

"Yes."

Her legs entwine with yours as she embraces you. You rest your chin on the top of her head, blond hair tickling your nose.

"I'm glad we found you when we did," she whispers into your clavicle, like the act of caring must be kept secret. Your chest aches.

"I'm glad too."

You stroke her arm and she settles deeper into your embrace. Her nose is cold. You linger in that half-asleep state until you're nearly dead to the world. Warm lips press a kiss to the underside of your jaw, dragging you back to awareness. You can see the outline of her cheekbones in the trapped moonlight.

"Rebekah," you say, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," she answers.

Rebekah kisses you soft and inviting. The troubled part of you that worries about getting involved with siblings little over 24 hours apart is shunted to the back of your mind.

You kiss for hours. You kiss until until your lips are kiss-bruised and spit slick. Until you think you're half in love with Rebekah just from this alone. You forget when you first met her, jagged around the edges and imperious. You forget how she took care of you after your nightmare. You forget endless outings with her and Kol until the only thing in your past, present, or future is this very moment.

You kiss until near dawn when your energy flags. Rebekah places one last loving kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Sleep," she says, "I'll be here when you wake up."

You do. And she is.

Happy Valentines Day! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. We will be seeing more of Rebekah in the next chapter ;-)