This was written for Klarosummer Bingo using the prompt, "Hot Air Balloon." The event is hosted on tumblr by Uppity Bitch (supremeuppityone), a fantastic author and excellent sounding board. Definitely check out her work and look for the event on tumblr at klarosummerbingo and me at eliliyah. Enjoy and leave me a review if you like it! (No concrit, please!)

Thirty-Nine Hours

Hot air balloons were stupid. And whoever invented the hot air balloon was stupid. And whoever decided to have hot air balloon races in Central Park was the stupidest of all. Caroline Mikaelson stared morosely up at the floating abominations as a light summer breeze blew them by overhead. The annual affair was something she'd never missed since moving to the city for college ten years prior. Still relatively new to Manhattan, she hadn't even known the festival existed until her future ex-husband took her there on their first date. It was in between her freshman and sophomore year at New York University where she was majoring in Liberal Studies, which was just a fancy way of saying she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life.

Klaus Mikaelson was a senior majoring in Studio Art, but an education in his case was just a formality. He was a trust-fund baby from a prominent family in England whose stepfather loathed him enough to give him control of the entire fund as soon as he turned eighteen if he promised to leave and never come back. Considering his mother was dead and his three older half-siblings already lived in America, it wasn't a difficult decision. Already a talented artist, NYU merely served to refine his technique and helped him build the network necessary to begin selling his work. By the time he met Caroline, he was already featured in galleries all over the city. They married six months after that first day watching the hot air balloons float over the park.

Nine years later, she filed for divorce.

The Mikaelsons had been separated for six months and were set to appear before a New York judge in less than two days for the official dissolution of their marriage. He'd retreated to his little sister's home in London to regroup, but Caroline knew he would have to come to town for the proceedings. Well, he didn't have to, but she knew him well enough to know that he would. As she sat on the grass on her red-checkered polyester blanket, she idly wondered if he was already in the city. She let her eyes fall on the children running by with painted faces, laughing and playing like the world wasn't falling apart. She wondered if she'd ever been that carefree. Sighing, she inhaled the scent of pizza and pretzels and popcorn. Hundreds of people were all around with their own blankets, but most of them were there with someone. She saw a young couple kissing a few blankets over and had to look away. When her eyes landed on a curly head of dirty blond hair over by a nearby vendor, she blinked several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

Klaus.

Caroline quickly looked away, heart racing in her chest. When she looked back up, she saw those familiar topaz eyes staring back at her. They both stood frozen, each as surprised as the other. Without thinking about it, she raised her hand to wave at him. Balancing two cups in one hand, he held up a finger to tell her he'd be right over before quickly tossing a few bills at the vendor. The way Klaus looked at her as he strode over was magnetic, like there was no one in the park but her. Unable to look away, she stood up to greet him.

"Hey," the blonde began awkwardly. "I saw you over there, by the frozen lemonade guy."

The artist didn't know what to say. Seeing his future ex-wife with her sunshine hair and light pink flowy sundress was like looking at a very colorful ghost. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and finally managed to reply, "Yes, I saw you… see me."

Golden curls bobbed around her bare shoulders covered only by two thin straps of cotton holding up her dress as she nodded her head. "You got two," she noticed, pointing at the drinks as a sense of dread filled her. "Are you here with someone?"

"No, no I'm here alone," Klaus quickly assured her, shaking his head a little too fast. She breathed a sigh of relief that he ignored, unwilling to think too closely on what that might mean. Looking down at his hands, he frowned as though noticing for the first time that there were indeed two frozen lemonades, one plain and one strawberry. "I suppose I just wasn't thinking." Unsure what else to do with it, he asked, "Would you like one?"

"Umm, sure," she replied. After he didn't move for a few seconds, she gestured down at the blanket. "Do you want to sit?" she offered politely. "I'm not here with anyone, either."

Klaus also breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone. "Sure." Sitting down, he crossed his legs beneath him as she did the same. The blanket wasn't really big enough for two, leaving one of his knees to rest on the grass. Realizing he was still holding both drinks, he held one out for her. "Here. You can have the one with the strawberry. If you still like strawberries."

"I like strawberry," the sunshine blonde assured him quickly, taking it from him and inhaling the summery fragrance of berry and lemon. "Thanks." Never very good at staying silent, she blurted out randomly, "Isn't it weird how the strawberry tastes like strawberry and the lemon tastes like lemon? You know, because it's in the name? Not everything tastes like what it's called, right? Like, cotton candy doesn't taste like cotton and popcorn doesn't taste like pop. And then you have colors. Like, blue is just its own flavor. Who decided blue was going to taste like blue? Everyone knows what blue tastes like even though it doesn't taste like anything in particular. It's it's own thing, right?" He looked over at her awkward rambling and just nodded. Realizing she was talking about nothing, she pressed her lips together. It used to be so easy talking to him, but now the silence between them stretched on and on uncomfortably as everyone around them chatted easily. Unsure what to say or do, she wrapped her lips around the yellow plastic straw and sucked as hard as she could, but very little came up.

Biting back a grin, Klaus stirred his drink with the straw as best he could. "It's frozen, sweetheart. You have to let it melt a bit."

"Right, yeah. I knew that." Blushing, she tucked a blonde tendril behind her ear, but it was no use. The wind was blowing too hard to keep strands from flying all over the place. Holding as much as she could behind her head in one hand, she pointed at her pink messenger bag. Klaus wordlessly unzipped the outside pocket, pulled a black hair tie off the handle of her brush and held it out to her. She traded him the drink for the tie and quickly threw her hair up in a messy bun before taking the lemonade back. "Thanks." He nodded, idly swirling his straw around. Even after six months apart, they still had their little routines down to a science. "So, umm, what brings you here?" His head snapped up, lips slightly parted but no sound came out. Quickly realizing the answer, she looked away so she wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes and he wouldn't see the guilt in hers. "Right. Well, I know why you're in the city. I mean why did you come to watch the hot air balloons?"

"Oh. Right." Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he shrugged as though he really wasn't sure himself. "Well, it's where we had our first date," he volunteered, not that either of them could ever forget. "I was in town and I didn't have anything else to do. We came here every year and, I don't know… It just seemed like the place to be." Nodding, she sipped her drink even though it still wouldn't come up the straw. "Why did you come?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't for the lemonade." Caroline glared at the frozen beverage with narrowed eyes. "Did it always take this long to melt?"

"Every time," Klaus replied, a small smile revealing just a hint of dimples beneath his overgrown stubble. "Patience was never your strongest suit." She turned her glare on him but there was no malice behind it. "You used to dump half of it into the grass so the other half would melt faster."

"Yeah, until that year I dumped it too close to my purse and it got all over my wallet," she reminded him, shaking her head as she thought back on a younger version of herself. "God, I was so mad… What a stupid thing to be mad about. It was just a wallet."

"Well, you really liked that wallet," he offered politely, although he secretly agreed that it had been a ridiculous reason to have a temper tantrum. "It was from our trip to Paris."

"Our honeymoon, yeah. I remember." After they'd married, he made it a top priority to start showing her the world. They'd gone to so many beautiful places that it was hard to remember them all, but their honeymoon wasn't something she'd ever forget. Clearing her throat before she could get lost in the memory, she added, "It was Dior."

"I remember." Klaus paused to sip his drink but only a little bit came up the straw. "I sent away for another one."

"Yeah, I know." Grabbing her messenger bag, she produced the little pink wallet from the middle pocket and held it up. "I still have it, see?" He nodded, idly wondering if their picture was still inside. "You still have your rosary from the Vatican," she pointed out, tilting her head at the strand of beads around his neck, most of it tucked beneath his light gray Henley.

His hand flew to the crucifix, fingering it lightly over the fabric. "Still haven't taken it off."

Caroline eyed his hand holding the cross and noted that his wedding ring was still on his finger. "That's not the only thing," she commented more to herself than to him.

Klaus looked over just in time to see her right hand cover her left, two fingers spinning her own ring around like it was something she did a thousand times a day. "You either." Their eyes met for a brief moment before both looked away. "Italy was a good trip," he redirected, his throat slightly constricted. He stabbed the frozen lemonade hard with his straw a few times, frowning. "And the gelato melted easier than these blasted things."

"The polar ice caps melt faster than these," the blonde agreed, huffing. Pushing her bag off the checkered blanket, she dumped half of the strawberry lemonade onto the grass. Noticing the way the drink was going to melt, he moved her bag to the other side of him just to be safe. "There. Much better," she announced, swirling what was left around with her straw. Wrapping her lips around the yellow plastic, she finally managed a decent sip. Closing her eyes, she let the frozen sugar melt on her tongue with satisfaction. When she opened them, she found an amused smile lingering on her almost ex-husband's raspberry lips. "Okay, fine. I'm impatient."

"You always were," Klaus chuckled, ducking his head to peek up at her from beneath long lashes. "Remember the one time we went to that water park? We had the fast passes, but even ten minutes was too long for you to wait."

"Okay, it was like a billion degrees out and I wasn't wearing shoes," Caroline pointed out defensively, still vividly able to recall the way the cement burned her bare feet. "And you weren't complaining when we went back to the room."

"No, I was not," he agreed, flashing his dimples and wiggling his eyebrows at the happy memory. "We didn't come out until it was time to go to the airport."

"Yeah, and we were in such a hurry that we forgot your- what was it?" Squinting her eyes, she tried to remember, but he answered for her.

"My laptop."

"Right, yeah," she agreed, nodding. "And we had to go back."

"Damn near missed the flight." Their eyes met and she looked away with a blush at the sight of his trademark smirk. They'd almost missed the flight because they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other. "It was worth it, though." Klaus contemplatively eyed his future ex-wife nodding as a small smile graced her lips in his presence for the first time since they'd separated. "What?"

Caroline looked over at him awkwardly and stirred her drink. "It's just… Talking to you just now, like we used to… It made me remember something that I hadn't thought about since…" Her voice trailed off, but even months later, he could still finish her sentences.

"Since you hated me?" he quipped, trying to keep the bitterness from his tone as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah." Caroline forced a smile and nodded uncomfortably as golden curls bounced around her shoulders, doing her best not to ruin the first moment of civility they'd had since she'd sent him away screaming. "Since then."

Klaus hummed thoughtfully, internally debating whether or not he wanted to know. Deciding that he had to know because this was Caroline, he risked asking, "What did you remember?"

Swallowing hard, she exhaled in a whoosh and tried to keep her tone light despite the way her eyes began to burn. "That I used to love you."

"Oh." He felt like he'd just been punched in the gut as every ounce of peace he'd felt only moments before rushed out of him. Getting to his feet, he dusted the dirt and bits of grass from his jeans. "I suppose that's the difference between us."

Looking up at him as the sun set over the balloon-dotted horizon and cast the world in shades of pink and orange, her voice was so low that her words were almost inaudible. "What is?"

Unable to meet her eye, Klaus toed the earth beneath his boots as he tucked his spare hand in his pockets and looked off at something in the distance, one hand still closed around the cheap plastic cup. "That's not something I would ever forget."

Caroline's eyes were glued to his back as he walked to the nearest green metal trash can and threw in his frozen lemonade. He tucked his other hand in his back pocket and began to move, but she couldn't let him go. Jumping up, she grabbed the blanket and haphazardly threw her messenger bag over her shoulder and raced after him. "Klaus, wait!"

The artist turned around just as she tossed her drink. "Yes?"

The blonde folded the blanket methodically into a rectangle that would fit in her bag. Once it was situated, she adjusted the strap and straightened her shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Klaus crossed his arms over his chest, the line of his jaw tense. "Tell you what?"

"You know what," she spat angrily, eyes narrowing. "Why did you let me think you were responsible for the fire?"

"I didn't let you think anything." Just then, a little girl with a balloon painted on her cheek came screaming toward them and they had to separate a few feet to keep her from barrelling into them. Irritated by the interruption, he turned around and tossed over his shoulder before he began walking away, "You assumed."

"And you didn't correct me," Caroline called after him. Jogging a few feet to catch up, she had to swerve between people in the crowd. Grabbing him by the elbow, she demanded, "Why didn't you tell me it was my dad?"

Klaus ripped his arm away as though her touch literally burned him. "Why didn't I tell you that your father dying from Stage IV lung cancer burned down your childhood home when he had mere weeks to live? The father you hadn't spoken to in years?" Scoffing, he shook his head and added dryly, "Gee, I wonder."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hiking her bag over her shoulder, the blonde placed her hands on his hips and leaned forward on one sandal. "What did you think I was going to do? Were you really expecting me to just throw him out into the street?"

The artist held up his hands as a marching band of half a dozen teenagers in traditional costumes marched right between them. With a huff, he moved off the sidewalk and out of the way of the carefree New Yorkers celebrating like the world wasn't falling down around him. Caroline waited for a mother pushing a baby in a stroller to pass before darting across to rejoin her almost ex-husband. "I expected you to completely overreact, pack up what was left of your belongings and leave him to die alone."

Caroline's jaw dropped in outrage. "I would not-"

Holding up a hand, Klaus cut her off tersely. "You would have and then you would have regretted it for the rest of your life." She opened her mouth to protest, but he rushed on before she could deny it. "You hated your father. You hadn't spoken to the man since he walked out when you were eleven years old. The only reason you wanted to care for him when you found out he was dying was to assuage your guilt about not being there for your mother when she died."

"We had no way of knowing her cancer would spread so fast," Caroline shot back defensively. "She was just diagnosed one day and dead three months later. And she wasn't all that forthcoming about how quickly it metastasized. It wasn't my fault that I wasn't there. If she'd called, I would have been."

"Yes, I am aware," he bit out curtly. "I have been telling you this for years and never once have you believed me. In fact, this is the first time I have ever heard you speak those words yourself. It was always me telling you not to feel guilty." The blonde didn't bother to deny it, crossing her arms over her chest defensively as a warm breeze blew past, swirling the skirt of her sundress around her shins. "You also felt guilty about us not moving back to Mystic Falls to live in your childhood home. When your father got sick, you wanted to move him there so he wouldn't end up in a facility. Something that was only made possible, by the way, because I spent well into the six figures on medical equipment and round the clock nursing," he reminded her emphatically. "And I continued to pay those bills after he was moved to the hospice wing after the fire even though you'd thrown me out. And then I paid for every one of his funeral expenses."

"A funeral you didn't even go to!" Caroline shouted, drawing the attention of a nearby face painter.

Klaus grabbed her by the arm and walked them further from the path, his voice low and harsh. "A funeral to which I was not invited. I called you five times the day he died and you didn't answer once."

"Because you let me think you were responsible for the fire!" she growled, not caring that a family of four could hear them from a few feet away. "That fire knocked weeks off what little time he had left!"

"Time you would have lost had you known the truth," the artist snarled, eyeing the family on their picnic blanket, two children eating cotton candy as their parents fought with frozen lemonade. Stepping further back, he kept his voice down so as not to ruin their evening, too. "You'd have left him alone and never forgiven yourself for it. It was better for you to be angry with me." After a moment, he added with a bitter scoff, "At least, I thought so at the time."

"So, this is, what?" the blonde demanded, throwing up her hands and letting them land on her hips. "Some ass backwards sense of nobility?"

"This is me knowing you better than you know yourself." Klaus huffed out a dry, humorless laugh. "Although, perhaps I didn't know you as well as I thought or it wouldn't have been such a shock when you filed for divorce."

Noticing a group of young children chasing after a clown with two hands full of balloon animals coming their way, Caroline pulled him further from the crowds. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Answered any one of my hundred calls?" he shot back sarcastically, tapping his foot against the dirt as his body buzzed with nervous energy. "Or, perhaps you could have called when you got the fire marshal's report that it was started by a cigarette being thrown into a trash can and not the pilot light being left on on the stove?"

The blonde looked away guilty, wrapping her arms around her torso and rubbing her biceps up and down. She had goosebumps despite the balmy summer air. "I was already back in New York and you were in London by then."

Klaus stepped forward on one foot and let his hands fall to his hips, his tone angry, hurt and accusatory all at once. "The last time I checked, phones do work overseas, Caroline."

"Well, you'd stopped calling by then," she defended herself lamely, staring off to the side at nothing in particular.

"Because you'd served me with divorce papers!" the artist shouted, throwing up his hands. When the family looked over, he dropped his tone so only his almost ex-wife could hear. "What about completely giving up on our lives together screams, 'Call me?'"

"I-" Caroline started to say something but quickly realized she had no idea what to say and pressed her lips together, eyes cast down at the ground.

Dragging his hands down his chin, Klaus shook his head to calm his temper. There was no point arguing. She'd made up her mind and there was nothing left to be done. "Forget it. Let's just… leave it. I'll see you in court on Monday." He only got a few feet before he turned to look at her one last time over his shoulder. "It was good to see you. Enjoy the balloons."

Caroline could feel her heart racing in her chest as she watched him walk away. Letting him go had been the biggest mistake of her life. Could she really make it all over again? She wanted to run to him but her feet wouldn't move, the soft grass like wet cement beneath her feet as she stood paralyzed. He was almost over the hill when she suddenly called out, "I didn't sign them." Klaus froze dead in his tracks. If he hadn't always been so acutely aware of the sound of her voice, he wouldn't have heard her over the sounds of the festival. Neither moved for a long time, but eventually, he very slowly turned around. Looking at him from across the park, she dragged one foot in front of the other until she was standing right in front of him. She didn't know if it was the wind blowing all around or her nerves, but her throat was suddenly so dry that she had to swallow hard before she could speak. Even then, her voice was cracked and shaky. "I didn't sign the divorce papers."

The artist stared at her incredulously. "We're scheduled to go before a judge in," he looked down to check his watch, "thirty-nine hours and you haven't signed them?"

"Well, I was going to, but… I mean…" Shifting her weight and fiddling with her hands, Caroline worried her lower lip and looked up at him tentatively. "Did you sign them?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Klaus looked down at the dirt beneath his boots and formed little patterns with his toe. Shaking his head, he muttered, "No."

"But you've had them for months…" Caroline pointed out, her voice trailing off. He simply shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Why didn't you? Was there something wrong with the terms?"

"No, no, everything was fine," he answered quickly, nodding. "Equitable. That's the word my lawyer used. Equitable." He let the word roll off his tongue like he found it personally offensive, nose twisted in distaste.

"Yeah, mine too… Equitable." Klaus hummed his agreement as she fiddled awkwardly with her hands. "So, why didn't you sign them?"

The artist shrugged with one shoulder; he didn't have an answer for that. "Why didn't you?" he asked, gulping. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted the answer, but since it was Caroline, he had to know.

"I…" The blonde opened and closed her mouth a few times before looking down at her wedding ring. "I tried to. A few times, actually. But, I'm left handed and every time I did, I looked down and saw…" Shrugging, she held up her left hand, diamond sparkling in the fading light. "And then I just… couldn't."

"I see." Inhaling a deep breath, he waited for her to say something. When she didn't, he cleared his throat and looked away. "Well, you still have thirty-nine hours. Perhaps try signing with your right."

"My right… Yeah." Nodding awkwardly, she fiddled with the strap of her bag just to have something to do with her hands. "Good idea. I should try that."

Klaus waited for her to say something, but she just stood before him fiddling and looking away. Exhaling hard, he tipped his head in her direction. "Well, goodnight." Turning on his heel, he returned to the sidewalk and began to get lost in the crowd.

Caroline felt panic welling up in her chest as his figure grew smaller and smaller. Suddenly, she called out as loudly as she could to be heard over the music, "Klaus, wait!" She jogged up to him, bag swinging against her hip. He paused and when he looked down at her, she didn't think she'd ever seen him so utterly miserable. It was an expression she knew well after all the times she'd seen it on her own face in the mirror. "Do you want to… go somewhere?" she asked tentatively, gulping as her stomach turned. "And just… talk?"

The artist flicked his gaze up and down his future ex-wife, debating how he wanted to answer. He noted the way she was chewing her lower lip, something she always did when she was nervous. He never could tell her no when she looked up at him with those wide, uncertain eyes. "Yeah, alright. Where did you want to go?"

"Well," she began reluctantly, hoping he would be okay with her suggestion, "I still have our apartment."

"Yes, I know," Klaus commented, jaw tightening as he shoved his hands in his pockets so she wouldn't see his fists clenching. "I agreed to let you keep it in the divorce settlement, remember?"

"Right, yeah." There was another uncomfortable silence as she fiddled with the strap of her bag and he shifted his weight. Caroline bobbed on the balls of her feet for long moments before blurting out awkwardly, "My lawyer said you didn't contest anything we asked for."

"No." Klaus shook his head, dirty blond hair curling just behind his ears. He was long overdue for a cut, but she'd always liked it that way. "He tried to talk me into it, but I told him no." He risked glancing over at her and hated how he could see the anxiety thrumming through her. He never wanted her to be nervous around him. Softening his tone to try and put her at ease, he added quietly, "I told him to give you whatever you wanted."

"Why? Didn't you want anything?" she asked a little too quickly as she rocked back and forth, lower lip caught between her teeth.

"There was only one thing I ever wanted out of our marriage." His eyes bore into hers as he tucked a stray tendril behind her ear, the wind blowing behind them. "And it's the one thing the lawyers couldn't give me."

"Oh." Closing her eyes to avoid the intensity in his, Caroline leaned into his touch as he cupped her face with his rough palm, the soft pad of his thumb tracing her cheekbone. Gulping, she opened her eyes and saw that he was still looking down at her like she was the only person in the world who ever mattered. "Well, maybe you can tell me about it when we get home."

Klaus felt his stomach flip flop, a knot forming in his throat. "Home?" he whispered, voice constricted.

"Yeah." Caroline pulled his hand from her cheek and held it in hers, unsure what else to do with it. "I mean, you haven't signed over the deed yet, so it's still your home, too."

The artist looked down at their hands and gulped. "Yes, technically, I suppose it is." Sighing, he looked at the watch on his other hand. "For another thirty-nine hours, anyway."

"Yeah." Caroline inhaled a shaky breath and peered up at him from beneath long lashes. "So… Do you want to? Go there?" There was so much tentative hope in her tiny smile and sapphire eyes that he already knew the answer.

Nodding, Klaus took her hand and intertwined their fingers as his lips curved up in a smile just wide enough to show off a hint of his dimples. "Let's go home."

The Mikaelsons walked hand in hand all the way back to their apartment on the upper west side. Once they got to their penthouse, they stayed up and talked all through the night and well into the next day. There was laughter and there were tears and there was the endless ticking of the clock. Thirty-nine hours came and went without their noticing. Despite all that happened and why Klaus had come to town, he and Caroline never made it to court Monday morning. It was the last time they ever talked about divorce. A year later, as the hot air balloons began to rise over Central Park, they were first in line to buy frozen lemonade.

It took all night to melt.