Part 5

His sister was a traitor, Klaus thought spitefully, when she gave him a sharp, knowing glare before turning her back without a word. Freya closed the door behind her. The air was thick in the small farmhouse bedroom. Klaus thought that perhaps he would be able to cut it with a claw.

He turned back to Caroline already anticipating the dagger eyes she turned on him. Since she recovered him from his chains, she had been soft and gentle, careful and caring in her demeanor. The care with which she selected her words and walked on eggshells around him rankled. It was Caroline, his Caroline, but somehow half of who she was. But he had long admired and abhorred her empathetic heart towards everyone else, and to see it turned to him as she allowed for the trauma of his captivity was disconcerting. She had been pliant under his touch as she herself recovered from nearly being drained when he woke from catatonia, then vulnerable before him as she confessed her reasons for being in New Orleans. It was as if he broke her, and it would the last thing that he wanted.

Looking at her brilliant, flashing anger, Klaus could not help the lopsided smile that he almost always slid into since he first met her—when the schoolgirl turned his millennium old soul into a schoolboy's.

"I am loathe to admit it, sweetheart, with you looking like you're ready for murder. But I did so long for that look on you."

She groaned in her frustration, and he missed that too. Was it the magic and the power that he shared with her that had her back to full form? Her hands fisted at her sides, as if she was holding back physical violence. Even knowing her meager years as a vampire would be no match for the Original, Klaus knew he would suffer through her beating ineffectively at him and enjoy it.

This Caroline he was familiar with. This Caroline had been the first to captivate him, drew him to a compulsion to surround and protect her even before he saw her need.

"I cannot believe you!" she threw at him, her face flushed pink with barely contained rage.

"You're incensed about how I am not letting you desiccate in front of my eyes, under my roof?" he challenged her. "Where is the logic in that, Caroline?" His voice was raised, and he knew many much older and stronger vampire that cowered at his displeasure.

Not Caroline. Not once had she backed down in Mystic Falls, even when he was out of his mind at Silas' mental torture at screamed and yelled at her.

"I will say this only once, Klaus Mikaelson. I do not want to siphon off you." Her voice dropped menacingly. And oh she was sly, always had been. There was a reason she had been elected as his distraction, and a reason she had been so successful at it. Caroline always could find the buttons to push with him. Whether knowingly or unknowingly, she could get him to pause. "You talk about giving me a choice," she reminded him. A low, low blow. "I choose not to siphon off you, or your daughter, or anyone else." She sat heavily on the bed, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

This was too easy of a win, and Klaus did not like the way she looked so much smaller now.

She looked up at him with bright eyes. "Do you know why I refused to feed on humans for a long time?"

He shook his head, his voice gentled, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, love."

A win was not a win if it came at her expense. "I killed someone when I was in transition. Some poor guy who didn't really do anything wrong other than being in my path."

"If you were in transition, you wouldn't have been able to control yourself."

"It doesn't make it right," she answered with a hitch in her voice.

"There lies the rub," he said softly. Klaus sat down next to her, causing the mattress to dip further. "You continue to define right and wrong through human eyes, Caroline, when you are so much more." He did not turn to look at her. If he did and saw her eyes fill with those tears, he knew himself enough to suspect that he would give in. This was too important for him to be swayed. "What is truly right is that you should take what you need. In transition, your hunger needed to be quenched by blood. Killing that man was an unfortunate byproduct, but one that was necessary for your survival." Her head would spin when the time comes for him to tell her the story of his family's transition, and how what was now Mystic Falls ran red with the blood of the villagers.

"Look at me."

No.

"Look at me, Klaus."

He gritted his teeth at the demand. Reluctantly and ever so slowly, he turned to face her.

"Promise me that you won't do that again. I can control this," she swore. "My friends wanted to kill me when I first turned." His jaw tightened, holding his tongue at his displeasure at that little confession. "They thought that I would be destructive as a vampire. But Stefan taught me how to control my bloodlust. I can control this too." He looked at her intent face, wanted to tell her there was nothing wrong with bloodlust and nourishing yourself. But who was he to say that her transition and her eventual habits were wrong, when both had molded her into who she was? "Promise me, Klaus."

All her wily, sincere, manipulative, sweet magic was on display before him.

He reached up a hand to capture a lock of hair, golden and soft like a marshmallow between her thumb and forefinger. She smiled, thinking she had won. "And when," he returned softly, "will you get it into your thick head that I love you? I know deep down you know it." Her panicked look sank into him, and he realized that he had never said the words before, knowing that she knew. From the thousands of ways he had shown her, and from never denying them when she claimed her own knowledge of his feelings. "That's why you're here. That's why you've come running to me. Knowing that, do you really think I would promise you something that stupid?"

"Love isn't someone being willing to lose themselves that way. That kind of love is selfish." She began to reach for his cheek, and immediately he turned in the direction, needing to nuzzle breathe in the warmth of her palm. Instead, he saw the flicker of uncertainty to touch him, and she drew sharply back. "What I need is someone who will stay." The confession was poignant, her voice ephemeral. How many had left her? And who in their right mind would ever? "That's the love I need. That's what I need from you."

Klaus stood and paced what length there was of the tiny bedroom, much like a caged wolf. There was an itch under his skin. It was a demand that she asked of him. It went against his very nature. He had daggered his siblings for much less.

But this was also the most honest and open she had spoken about this open secret that hung between them since first he laid eyes on her, when he became the gallant knight that escorted her from death's door. That he had pulled the trigger to cause her to land there in the first place

He paused, then looked at her. Her chin jutted out, meeting his gaze, all the determination and sadness and need clear as the day. And for one last attempt he managed, "I see no such fuss from you sharing my blood, sweetheart." His voice was thick, and he took supreme pleasure in the blush that he could see rise from her neck to kiss her cheeks.

"Well, I've never seen you hurt by giving me your blood, Klaus."

Fear.

He recognized it in her eyes. He had struck fear in so many, several times even in her. Fear he had seen even in the brothers and sisters that he adored. But the scent of this fear radiated off her now, humming underneath her firm demand, the taste of it had a different flavor. It was one he had not sensed before.

She feared for him, not of.

Anxious to bask in more, to explore this unfamiliar, Klaus dropped to his knees in front of where she was seated on the bed. His chest expanded at the sight. In those eyes, he watched the emotions that warred inside of her. Too stubborn to claim them, too young to understand.

"Let me tell you what I think love is," he said to her slowly, his voice quiet but clear. He wondered if in the last months she had come to the same recognition yet. "It's admitting you need someone. Like when you got in your car and came to me." His Caroline, so young and stubborn still. "It's knowing when you are going to be stronger that you've ever been for someone else.When you came and saved me."The flicker in her eyes was so quick and brief, one could almost miss it."Love is in the taking, even if everything inside you tells you that you shouldn't, because it means YOU get to stay for the ones that love you."

When he became the teacher in matters of love, he did not know. But there it was, and he surprised even himself by the certainty with which he spoke of love. Once Rebekah spoke of love like a fleeting, ephemeral thing, one to capture at once or lose—so precious and delicate that she was prepared to throw all caution to the wind so she could relish it while it was present.

Klaus knew better now. Love was not some passing thing. It was a constant hum, a presence in the back of your mind. It was solid, and gritty, and all consuming. Love was blood and bone and sinew, unseen but ever present, connecting your soul to another even when apart. Love gave you a soul when you thought you had sold it away centuries ago.

The devastation that flashed in her eyes was a small flame lit by a kerosene tank.

That was it, he thought, knowledge breaking open like a blossoming flower. This tight control over dreaming, and taking, and basking; such tight hold over seeking to possess what she deserved. Caroline Forbes was willing to risk it all to save someone she deemed deserving of her devotion, but could not for the life of her think she was entitled to more.

She knew he was in love with her. In the clutches of death, she had thrown it at his face like so much ice water, the worst accusation she had levied against him was that he was capable of love and capable of salvation. A thousand years, and even he had only recently learned what it meant to love this way. A thousand years to eternity he would teach her. Maybe he could help her embrace what it meant to be loved in the way she utterly, irrevocably, inevitably deserved.

Still knelt before her, Klaus leaned forward with his gaze locked on her lips. As if they were opposite ends of a magnet, she moved towards him, an instant, undeniable force pulled them together. For a moment, he saw her hesitate. "You're not going to kill me, love." He could not help the curve of his lips at the thought.

"Not even funny," she murmured.

He pressed a fervent kiss on her temple, the most chaste kiss he had ever given a woman he fancied. It was the most chaste he would manage that day, he thought, because right before him Caroline dragged off the borrowed shirt she wore. Her skin glowed in the bright day time, unafraid and unashamed to be bare in front of him. He supposed of all the clothing that she had been lent, a bra would be harder to force fit and so she had gone without.

Thank the heavens.

And then she reached for his top. They worked together to pull his Henley off him, and his chest puffed with petty pride when he saw the fascination in her eyes. Tentative fingers traced the outline of the birds littering his chest.

He rose up to his feet, then pulled her up to stand in front him. She was glorious, half naked and that open, unmentionable emotion clear in her face as she looked up at him. And then, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Dragging her gaze from his, Klaus watched as she moved to drop butterfly kisses over his tattoo.

His throat worked as he himself fought for control as even the sweetest kisses drove him to the brink. This was no hurried romp in the woods. This was not a frantic claim or a sudden urge for release.

This was a promise.

His fingers buried in her golden hair, urging her to look up at him. When she did, he ravaged her mouth, sealing a voice between them than meeting for a kiss. His hands fumbled when he reached down to push off his pants, trying not to break contact from her.

Klaus had not had the time to properly pay attention to her breasts during their last encounter. Now he had her at leisure. "You are beautiful, but you know that already." Lessons began now, the thousand year education he promised so she would know everything she deserved in love. He worshipped her, kissing down the column of her neck. He felt the vibration in her throat as she purred in satisfaction, reveling in the attention. The wolf inside him leapt at the sensation.

Her hand moved to touch him. He drew in a sharp breath when her hand closed over him, feeling himself grow harder and stiffer at the slight brush of her, even more so when her palm moved up and down and stimulated him.

But this was a devotion to the gift of her breasts. His right hand rested on her waist, and with his left he cupped one breast, weighing her carefully so he could remember the change in her body every time. His thumb brushed across the nipple, and when it puckered in response, Klaus wrapped a tongue around it to soothe and comfort her. Caroline threw back her head. A trembling sigh escaped her. She reached down and grasped his wrist, then brought his right hand to massage her other breasts.

She was learning well to demand what she wanted. What a fascinating student, and he quite a proud teacher. He turned to the other breast, working his hand and his tongue as he lavished his attention on it. It did not take long until the nipple pebbled, and her legs gave out under her.

He lifted her up in his arms, then laid her down on their shared bed. She looked up at him with a satisfied smile. She began to push down at her pants, so he pulled them off for her. She lifted her hips so he could slide them down, and scent of her need lingered in the air.

Klaus pushed his own pants down and discarded them over his shoulder, earning a giggle from her. And then her legs parted and he moved between them. The mirth faded from her eyes. Her hips rose, teasing at him. That look in her eyes drove him mad. But patience was a virtue he prided himself in. A thousand years, he gave himself, to teach her to translate into words those feeling starkly clear in her eyes when she looked at him. Her hips moved under him, cradling his, as if so many lips bobbing up for a kiss.

But her glorious breasts. He was not done. He returned to nipping at one, and she groaned in half protest and half pleasure. She moved rhythmically against him, seeking something he was not giving her still. "Klaus, please," she whispered, agonizingly sweet. Asking for what she wanted. He kissed the underside of her breast, and with one hand he reached down between them where she had been seeking. His finger slid into her channel, finding her slick, and she moved her hips frantically. He slipped another one inside, pumping inside her and she moved in the same rhythm.

Caroline whimpered in her throat. He pushed up, inside and outside, with his hand. He abandoned the breast, then moved higher so he could kiss her temple while he worked her. Her brows were furrowed, so focused on her search. Her pale skin glistened in the bright light. "Is this what you want, Caroline?" In and out, taking her to the very brink. And then her hand closed over his wrist. He smiled when he felt it, how she helped set the pace, wordlessly showing her what she needed. "Good," he said. "Show me how."

She breathed harshly, nodded. Her lower lip had been bitten raw. He took her lead with the speed and the rhythm she needed. Sweat blossomed on her forehead, and he kissed there. Klaus watched her shatter in the bed into a million pieces. His mouth covered hers and swallowed her scream.

Caroline was trembling when she came down. He laid down beside her and held her close. He felt her nuzzle her nose to his neck. His lips curved. She hummed low in her throat, asking without asking. His fingers buried in her hair, massaging circles into her scalp. He pressed with gentle pressure, grinning at the pleased squeal that erupted from her. Her fangs were pinpricks in his neck when they bit into him, and Klaus closed his eyes at the stirring sensation in his belly when she drew his blood, then laved at the wounds until they closed.

Like a kitten to his wolf.

But whereas a wolf would no doubt devour a kitten, Klaus instead closed his hands over her waist, then lifted her up and settled her above him. She was delicious, naked and glowing from her release, her face smeared with a little blood. Her bitten lips had already healed, and her pale skin had a rosy flush.

"Put your hands on my neck," he instructed her.

Caroline broke into a big smile. She closed her lips over hips, raised her hips. Klaus guided himself up and into her. Her back bowed as she stretched and unfurled above him to accommodate every bit of him. He stopped halfway, and she gasped for breath. "Klaus, don't stop."

"I don't want to hurt you, but you are so tight."

"We've done this before." Gripping his shoulders, she took control and sank fully, taking his whole length. "See?" she gasped.

She had always been beautiful when she took control, even more breathtaking when she did it for herself.

Her earlier release had made her slick and slippery. He moved under her, driving up inside her. "I think," she gasped. Her brows furrowed with frustration even as she oved up and down, searching intently. "I think—I need—"

"Tell me what you want, Caroline."

She sent him a look of so much need, her silent plea. Klaus turned them over so she lay spread open under him, and he thrust inside her. Caroline arched against him, completely his, baring herself only for him. He pumped into her, grunting at the control he needed to give her what she asked for. She broke under him, like an explosion of petals. Her climax tightened her channel until she had a viselike grip on him. Her grip on his hips tightened even as his thrusts became stronger, out of rhythm. Klaus spilled inside her for the first time since their adventure in the woods.

And that goodbye was rendered thankfully, completely in the past.

He was hers. Inextricably.

Afterwards, they lay down in a tangled mess on the bed. His head rested on her shoulder. He could feel her fingers playing with his curls. He traced circles on her breast.

He could see the slight swell of her belly in this angle. Her left hand, the one not playing with his hair, rested on the curve. Caroline Forbes spoke volumes even without a sound. It was a trait of her that enthralled and confounded him. It told him where he stood in her affection, and how successfully he clawed his way up her good graces. It told him, with that simple gesture of cupping the swell idly how those babies were becoming a part of her.

"So that happened," she announced.

He lifted himself by his elbow, a triumphant grin on his face. "And it will happen again," he declared. "We can't go back." There was no going back again. Not after this. Not after he basked in the way she looked at him, bathed in the knowledge of how she regarded him even if she could not say it out loud.

"No going back," she assured him. Caroline used her fingertips to trace the outline of his mouth, a faint, ticklish brush that barely hovered over him. "I think you're beautiful," she confessed.

He caught the teasing digits with a kiss. "I told you you weren't going to kill me. I survived sex with Caroline Forbes."

She giggled, and he loved seeing her giggle, so liberated and unrestrained in bed, wrapped in the afterglow that he caused. He found himself toppled on his back. She had knocked his elbow off its perch. Astounded, he looked at her wide eyed, and then she was leaning over him, her golden hair cascading down the sides of her face, creating a curtain of privacy just for them.

"No siphoning at all," she said in observation. Klaus received her happily when she drew closer to kiss his chin. She scrunched her nose. "Scratchy," she commented. He made a note to shave the moment they pulled themselves out of bed. And then she rubbed her smooth skin against his stubble. "I think I like it." He was going to have to throw out all the shaving supplies.

"I think I know what's happening," Klaus told her as she settled into his arms now. Her head rested on the pillow of his bicep as she curled at his side. He enjoyed the drumbeat of her fingers as they idly tapped on his abdomen. "Yesterday, the siphon was triggered by you almost dying from my bite. Last night and this morning, you were still healing and exhausted. Right now, we just had the most tactile contact we've had, and we didn't trigger it."

"Wait, are you saying that the twins aren't randomly sucking up magic."

"They siphon based on need, Caroline. They need the magic for nourishment—to siphon the werewolf toxin," he said, sounding pained still at the prospect, "to recover from your trauma. They're doing their best to survive, so they're trying to keep you alive. It's not malice or an uncontrollable need to feed off other magic, sweetheart."

Caroline nodded, and he could see how his realization moved her. What it must have been for her when she found out about this. She had been willing to push him away even when their connection had become so clear she could no longer hide it with pretend spite, all because of a future that she planned.

"Like a hummingbird working so hard to live. There's something beautiful in that," she said softly.

She took his hand and placed it palm down over where her belly curved over her womb. She looked up at him in avid expectation. Reluctantly he allowed her to lead him. The babies would be the size of plums now, tiny little things. His heightened senses could hear their heartbeats, strong little fighters' heartbeats. He cared less about them beyond how Caroline saw them—these little souls that he pretended were people in his brain. But their heartbeats were strong, and their fight to keep themselves and their mother alive earned them grudging respect.

"Something most definitely beautiful," he acknowledged.

~ o ~ o ~ o ~

When Caroline walked into the kitchen, it was to see Klaus heads down in deep conversation with Elijah. Upon her entrance, Klaus turned towards her, a boyish, playful grin curved his lips. Her breath caught in her throat, warmth blossomed in her heart. She could not have made much noise, she thought, but was pleased that he could immediately sense her presence.

Was this what it was like, she wondered, to be so loved that you did not need to fight for attention or work so hard to be seen?

Was it this easy?

Elijah nodded to her in acknowledgment, and Caroline returned the gesture, feeling awkward at the distant signal of recognition. She could feel Elijah's regard still as he seemed to have taken it upon himself to study her, weighing her in silent contemplation. She wondered what it was he needed to see, and determined that sooner rather than later, she would need to face the music and sit down with Elijah if she had any hope of keeping this current state of satisfaction, that made her feel like she was floating in the air. His inquisitive stare was enough to shake the fresh foundations of what she was beginning to build with his brother.

Klaus shifted in his stance, revealing the figure of Hayley leaning back against the wall. When Elijah turned to her to continue the conversation, Caroline was grateful for the other woman's presence that Elijah's attention waned.

Klaus stalked towards her with an easy stride to stand beside her. He was not a man to openly display his affection, and their proclaimed promises were yet too new. Her heart raced when he approached her, and sensing the tension rise in her, he placed a hand on the small of her back. The gesture comforted her, subtly easing her that her place was right there without overwhelming her.

And with that, Klaus answered the questions that Elijah's silent assessment triggered, without Caroline asking anything at all.

In front of her, Rebekah appeared dangling white slush inside a plastic cup. Caroline's eyes widened in surprise, and she took it gratefully. "It's warm." The youngest Mikaelson's brows arched. "Thank you, Rebekah."

Rebekah smirked. "Warm vanilla milkshake, saving my sanity and my life from the hex. We're even now."

"Maybe two more runs for my pregnancy craving and I'd say we're even," Caroline bargained.

"Done," Rebekah agreed. "Anyway, it's in that woeful state because of how far we are from civilization. I can't promise any of your cravings will be served well in the future."

"I couldn't really get a penthouse suite in the middle of New Orleans when Hope and I were in hiding," Hayley shot back.

Caroline walked over and sat at the dining table, then removed the plastic tape to remove the plastic lid. She stared at the unappetizing concoction in front of her. Klaus looked on uncertain, and Rebekah with anticipation.

Elijah took off his jacket and hung it neatly at the back of one of the dining chairs. He walked over to Caroline, then took the plastic cup of slush. "Or better yet, sister," he said, addressing Rebekah, "if you are paying Caroline back for saving your life, make a little more effort right at home. Not," he said, holding up the plastic cup of warm milkshake, "give a pregnant woman some curdled goo."

He walked over to the kitchen sink and poured the milkshake that she had been craving and promised the babies since yesterday.

Elijah carefully folded the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, then washed his hands with soap and water. With measured, efficient movements, Elijah took a small handheld blender from the cupboard. Vaguely she wondered if the small farmhouse was familiar to him before their coma, if Hayley had been using it before, that he would be so confident moving around. Elijah dumped a couple of scoops of ice cream, poured fresh milk, then dropped some vanilla extract. Soon the kitchen was filled with the whirring noise from the blender. Within minutes, a fresh glass tumbler of milkshake sat in front of her.

"The next time you have a craving, Caroline, and Niklaus is nowhere to be found, a better avenue to seek is through me and not my sister who has never worked a day in her life."

Was this his way of announcing to the family that she had been judged and found suitable?

"Thank you, Elijah," Caroline said. The flavor hit just the spot, soothing the craving she harbored for more than 48 hours. She was not going to cry, not going to cry. If she cried she would blame it on hormones.

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Well I bring certain talents to the table that none of my brothers cannot replicate." She took her spot at the table, then waved at her brothers to join them. "I met Marcel."

The noise of the chair scratching the floor ripped the air. Klaus settled in the seat at the head of the table. She did not know how, but she knew right then that he needed her. Marcel. Hayley had told her about that pretend king that Klaus loved long ago like the son he never had—the pretender king who stuck Klaus in the catacombs for more than a year.

She despised the man without even knowing him.

She reached for his hand under the table, and found hers met halfway, their fingers intertwined.

"Why?" Klaus rasped.

"Marcel agreed to stand down and allow us to return to our family home. Neither of you boys would have been able to convince him of that." Rebekah folded her arms across her chest. "I have use for this family yet."

"I don't need the abattoir, Rebekah." His grip on her hand tightened. "Elijah and I have reached an arrangement to rebuild the plantation house outside the city. Children will need the space to run. The Quarter is not the place for them."

Children.

He was preparing for a life with children. Not just Hope, but with children she had not even dared think about a future with. But God, how she wanted all of it.

Caroline met Hayley's gaze. She assumed it was the conversation that she had walked into, and Caroline was oddly comforted by the knowledge that Klaus had made a point to speak first to the mother of his child. It was growth, or it was Elijah forcing his hand.

"The Quarter is the seat of your kingdom, Klaus. You've fought for your place, and Marcel has agreed to share power with you. Isn't this what you wanted all along?"

"And why would he agree to this, Rebekah?" The question came from Elijah as he moved from the kitchen towards his seated siblings, considering the information with a considering rub at his chin.

Her eyes narrowed at her brother. "Because I offered to help him. There is a prophecy making the rounds in the Quarter—about a coming power that can defeat even the Beast he has become."

Beast?

"We need to be in the compound again, long enough for Kol to retrieve his hidden objects from the walls. He thinks he was able to seal in enough magical artifacts so that he can help Freya fashion an amulet for Caroline."

A renovation to prepare the compound for occupation would be the perfect excuse to tear down walls. In fact, however Rebekah managed to finagle an agreement from this beast Marcel was quite an accomplishment. She wished that Klaus would commend his sister for it.

Elijah nodded. "There is tactical merit to being in the city, especially in the French Quarter. It will be easier for us to communicate with the nine covens as Freya and Kol continue to look into the Gemini."

"There is one problem." Rebekah seemed ill at ease, almost afraid, when she placed the familiar phone on the table. "Along with the things left behind when you broke Nik free was this." She pushed the phone forward to Caroline. "I don't believe Marcel was able to get into your phone, but very sure that he saw that screensaver. He also has footage of you arriving in New Orleans and asking about Klaus shortly before his escape."

Klaus picked up the phone and glanced at the screensaver in question, then returned the phone to her. When the face ID recognized her, notifications expanded to show the multiple messages and missed calls that had come in while the phone was turned off. Caroline saw the thirty missed calls and messages from Stefan. She swiped quickly to get rid of the reminder.

"You believe that Marcel suspects Caroline is involved with my break out."

"He can't prove it," Rebekah said.

"But we both know that Marcel can act out rashly even without proof. Now his emotions are heightened after his turn," Elijah interjected.

Klaus turned to Caroline. "What do you want to do, love?"

Her choice.

"Which is safest for Hope?" Caroline asked, turning to Hayley who looked up in surprise. Just because Klaus was adamant in giving her back the voice she had lost so many times before, did not mean she could stand to watch another woman muted. She was Hope's mother, and if there was one person to prioritize in all of this, it was the little girl.

"We were hiding to protect us while the family was asleep," Hayley responded with a firm, reassuring certainty. "Now that they're here, there is nowhere safer for Hope than wherever we can stay together." She looked up at Elijah. "Family is power." Slim shoulders shrugged. "Besides, Hope needs her nursery back."

Elijah placed a reassuring hand on Hayley's shoulder. The brunette almost imperceptibly turned towards where Elijah stood behind her.

Rebekah grinned triumphantly. It was her feat that allowed them to move. "Finally. This farmhouse was about to drive me insane.

She didn't realize that she her lips were moving soundlessly until Klaus turned to her. "Caroline, are you making a list?"

She felt the blush heat up her cheeks. Pros and cons lists always worked for her before. Her friends relied in her careful consideration until the results did not agree with their own decisions. This was an entirely new audience. She sighed. There was no point hiding the most natural aspects of herself. She was almost sure this would not faze Klaus, and would probably endear her more to him because he was just that blinded by now. Rebekah and Elijah, on the other hand… Klaus will need to manage them. "Pros," she started, keeping her gaze at Klaus so she would not be disconcerted if his siblings found her odd, "A larger space and a return to your family home, which will make Rebekah happy. We can comfortably accommodate and keep the family together, keeping Hope safe, which is what Hayley wants. That makes Elijah happy. We get open access to the house and retrieve these objects that Kol needs for Freya to create an amulet for me. That makes Kol happy. If I have an amulet, then I don't end up accidentally siphoning off of you, which makes Freya happy. And frankly, that should make you happy."

"Cons?"

"I don't know if we can trust Marcel to hold up his end of the bargain."

"And?"

"If we believe that Marcel's suspicions have built up, then I shouldn't come. You can reestablish your position in the French Quarter, Klaus. Let everyone get what they need. I'll stay here. This farmhouse is still a pretty good safehouse. No one's discovered it so far." She continued lightheartedly. "It will be just like those old romance novels. You can lord over the city and come visit your side piece outside of town."

He released her hand, and Caroline suddenly felt a pang of regret as the single move sent her a wave of loss. "Klaus—" He walked out of the kitchen, then a few moments later the front door slammed shut.

"I think you will find, Caroline, that your rational approach does not work when dealing with my brother," Elijah advised. Her brows knitted in frustration. "You're using this," he tapped on his temple, "whereas Niklaus has always been ruled by this," then tapped on his left chest, where the heart was.

Caroline waited on the front porch, rocking on the chair that Kol had pulled outside when the night grew dark. When the chill set in the air and she refused to go back inside, Rebekah tossed her a blanket and Freya thrust a cup of her ginger tea in Caroline's hands. His clothes were folded neatly at the top of the steps, so Caroline knew that she was in the right place to wait.

When the large black wolf prowled towards her, Caroline held her breath. His golden eyes watched her. Before her eyes, the wolf morphed back into his vampire form. Under the moonlight his skin glowed an ethereal gold. He walked towards the steps naked, then pulled the clothes over his body.

"I didn't know you ever ran in your wolf form," she told him from her place in the rocking chair. He did not go up the steps yet, keeping his distance by staying on the grass.

"I don't," he replied curly. "I can harness the power of my wolf without turning. This was an aberration. I just needed to expend some frustration."

"Your wolf is beautiful," she said wistfully. He merely grunted in response. "I'm sorry. You tell me you want to give me my choice back, but you walk away from me when you don't like what you hear."

"I despise it when you use your voice to lie, because you're too conditioned to speak for others instead of yourself." He raked his fingers through his hair, a sign of his displeasure. "I want you to have a voice so you can lobby for yourself for a change. I don't know how else to convince you."

Was she so irreparable?

"I hated it when you walked away," she confessed. "I thought out of everyone else who already left, you'll be the last to want to walk away."

And then his eyes whipped towards her. His shoulders fell. Klaus climbed up the steps, barefoot still, not having bothered to put his shoes back on. He stopped in front of the rocking chair, then pulled her up to her feet. "I didn't want to fight or to snap in front of the family. And I didn't want to lose my temper in front of you. I walk away to run the same way you take those calming breaths to control yourself." His hand cupped her cheek, and she immediately turned to that warmth. "I will never walk away to abandon you. I would have hoped you know that by now, but I also know you've been unfortunate with lesser men who tend to leave you when things become challenging."

Lesser men.

Even in the most intimate reunion, Klaus could not help but claim superiority. "Now can we use our words?"

He pushed her hair back. "This business of the family occupying the compound and your getting tucked away out here—it's not going to work for me."

She stifled a grin. "Your streaking naked across the yard to run your irritation away made that abundantly clear to me."

"Do you really want to be hidden away? If you wanted that you would have stayed where you were in Mystic Falls and asked your friends to help you hide. But you came to me, because you know I will do everything in my power to give you the world." He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.

"I gave you my pros and cons, and you know those bullets were amazingly accurate." He smirked, and she was happy that she lightened the mood without sticking her foot up her ass again. "What should we do?"

"First of all, your pros and cons list was inadequate." Her mouth fell open at the disrespect to her tried and tested decision-making method. "Think it through. The pros list had everything to do with what everyone else wanted, but not one of yours." His warm hands wrapped around her upper arms, causing a hum of satisfaction low in her throat. "Until you learn to lobby for yourself, you are going to have to deal with me. No one puts my girl last under my watch. Not even you." His hands rested on her hips, then pulled her flush against him. "What do you want?"

Emboldened by their proximity, Caroline said, "I want to collect on all the things you offered me—show me around your favorite city, let me taste the food, listen to the music and enjoy the art." She placed a hand on his chest. "But that's just not where we are now."

He took her hand then raised it to his lips. "I know exactly where we are, love." If only she had the same confidence that he always did. "I will deal with Marcel. Until the plantation is rebuilt, the Abattoir will be your home. My city is yours."

tbc