Chapter Text
Caroline would like the record to show that she had argued very ardently against spring break in New Orleans.
It was muggy, she had pointed out. And they would be missing Mardi Gras and all the various parades and really what even was the point of visiting New Orleans if you missed Mardi Gras?
Hurricanes, Trinity had merely responded. Lots and lots of hurricanes.
At her best friend’s pointed statement, Caroline had huffed—and continued to argue.
Spring break in Miami would be way better, she had suggested, growing increasingly desperate as she was met with amused, unconvinced stares from all of her college friends. Or Cabo, didn’t they all want to get a stamp on their passports? Even California would be fun, and it would be nice and easy and semi-affordable and they could all totally rent a big SUV or camper or something for the trip and make a whole event out of the ride.
The group of friends had refused to budge. Hurricanes, it seemed, were a valid counterargument to all points raised.
Of course, Caroline could not—would not—tell them the real reason that she dreaded the idea of going to New Orleans.
I’m standing in one of my favorite places in the world, surrounded by food, music, art, culture, and all I can think about is how much I want to show it to you. Maybe one day you’ll let me.
Nope. Not thinking about that. Certainly not sharing it with the class.
When she had first met them, Caroline had given all of her UW friends a heavily redacted version of what her youth in Mystic Falls had been like without going into any actual detail.
(Seriously guys, you don’t want to know all the crazy supernatural stuff that goes on in that town, we had this whole vampire hunting council which was a big problem except not really because they were always failing to find vampires and my parents were involved with it and there were some really old vampires and honestly that town just attracts all sorts of crazy.)
Even having left Mystic Falls behind her when she left for college for the second time (they had to get Bonnie back from the prison world and by then Caroline was just so done with the state of Virginia that couldn’t even imagine returning to Whitmore College), she refused to tell anyone the truth of Mystic Falls and risk giving Elena’s doppelgänger status away. They may not be best friends any more, but Caroline still loved her dearly. And it was Elena, danger magnet—who knew what new enemy would crawl out of the woodworks and find some use for her uber rare Petrova blood if Caroline mentioned her, vampire now or no?
Of course, without mentioning Elena, there was no mentioning the Originals, nor really any of the substantial supernatural drama that Caroline had found herself entangled in during the years after she had been turned. And honestly, during her time at UW, Caroline had really been enjoying the lack of supernatural drama. She enjoyed drama drama. College drama. She did her best to stay out of the supernatural drama now, for the most part.
And yes, okay, sure, maybe she sometimes she fed into supernatural drama drama of her own and listened to a certain saved voicemail when she got drunk. Only occasionally. And, okay, maybe she sometimes exchanged texts with a certain British hybrid. Not just when she was drunk. But it was nice, having someone to update on mundane things about her life. He had always been avidly interested in the random details no one else liked to listen to her prattle on about. And she knew he enjoyed it, getting her updates and having someone to talk to about his own woes. Or text to. Whatever.
At least they weren’t calling. Or Facetiming. Did he even know how to Facetime? Ugh, she wasn’t thinking about him. Whatever.
Either way, that supernatural drama at least didn’t blur over into the rest of her personal life.
But yeah, even though they were all supernatural beings, Caroline had never really gone into detail about her past with her friends. Every time she got a weird look for knowing some random thing about life as a vampire that a baby vamp like her really should not know (apparently it was not common knowledge that prison worlds existed), Caroline would just flush and mumble something about Mystic Falls. Her friends would often seem baffled but thankfully tended to be forgiving of her evasions about her past for the most part. It usually helped that Trinity, another vampire with at least four decades on all of them, was always there to glare them into submission.
Caroline had met the entire gang during her first month at UW, when she had been on the receiving end of one of Micah’s witchy migraines, knocked out, and then tied to a chair with ropes that even she, a baby vampire, would have had very little difficulty ripping her way out of.
At first, the small gang of supernaturals had been weary of Caroline and Naia, a triggered werewolf, who had also enrolled that year. They had all warmed quickly, however, and though Caroline had been annoyed by the harsh welcome, she had soon been glad to have made friends with other supernaturals. It got frustrating to steal your own blood bags, she had quickly learned, and Trinity already had an in at the hospital.
Three years later, the members of their supernatural posse now included vampires Trinity (22 when turned around 55 years ago), Peter (32 when turned around 20 years ago), and Caroline; Micah as their group’s only witch; and Naia, Leo, and Walker as their werewolves.
This year, Trinity and Micah were both graduating—and, to Caroline’s eternal frustration, they were both keen on visiting New Orleans for spring break. Because of course, under Mikaelson rule, the city had suddenly come to be touted as some never-before-seen utopia for all supernatural creatures to come and live their lives (or unlives) to the fullest. Apparently, there was even some sort of governing body in which the witches, werewolves, vampires, and humans all got a say.
Caroline scoffed at the idea of Kla—of he-who-shall-not-be-thought-of creating any sort of governing body that wasn’t just himself as judge, juror, and executioner. He was so full of shit. And she could see right through it, yes she certainly could.
She glared around the bar they were in. It was cute, she could admit it was cute. Very New Orleans-y. And yes, okay, it was cool that there seemed to be humans and supernaturals alike interacting with nary a care in the world.
But she was irritated. Because she was in New Orleans. And she hadn’t meant to come to New Orleans, ever.
Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century, you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer.
Okay fine. Maybe she had meant to come in a century. Possibly three. But certainly not this soon. And nope, actually she was not admitting that maybe to herself because she had resolutely decided to table all thoughts of proclamations and however long it takes for at least three more lifetimes.
Even if she and he-who-shall-not-be-thought-of sometimes texted. And she liked to listen to the voicemail.
She took another tentative glance around the room as she sipped her daiquiri. Rousseau’s was one of the more famous supernatural bars in the city and she felt on edge being in such a public place. She could so easily imagine it, him strolling casually in the front door, here for a glass of whatever weird, rich guy bourbon he, Damon, and all the other pretentious douchebag vampires liked to drown themselves in.
They were only here for one drink, she reminded herself. Just to meet with the Marcel guy (privately, she assumed he was the Marcellus that he-who-shall-not-be-thought-of sometimes mentioned) and prove to him that they were in the Quarter for the week but meant no harm. Just here on a strangely timed spring break because for some reason the end of March was apparently when spring began. Great.
At least they were meeting with Marcel and not the Big Bad Original Hybrid himself. Talk about a disaster. It was ridiculous, this whole announcing their presence in the Quarter thing—like it was the 1800s and they were being presented at a ball.
“Oh, come on Care, is it really that bad?”
At Trinity’s words, Caroline glanced up and despite herself, a smile twitched its way across her cheeks. Her friend looked utterly ridiculous, with a silly cap perched atop her braids and a long green hand-grenade in hand. And that was nothing to say of the funky, unnecessarily ostentatious green and purple shirt she had donned for their trip out into the city. She loved that about her friend, that even when they went out for a night on the town, she could still be unabashed and utterly goofy with it. A good contrast to Caroline’s own neurotic tendencies.
“No,” Caroline admitted on an exhale. “It’s not. I just still think that somewhere a bit more tropical would have been fun,” she grumbled.
Trinity sent her an eye roll. “Uh huh. And by tropical do we mean the beautifully trashy hotel rooms of wherever people spring break in Newport Beach?”
Caroline giggled, taking another sip of her drink. It was really yummy. “Okay fine,” she relented. “This place is cool. But,” she held up a finger, “you still owe me that drink that you promised. For being a totally awesome best friend and agreeing to spring break in New Orleans even though I totally argued against it.”
“Deal,” Trinity agreed instantly. She cast a surreptitious glance back towards the bar area. There was a pretty blonde behind the counter, fixing up a Bourbon for the man who had just sat down. He was very handsome, with a wide grin and smiling eyes. Eyes that turned her way as though sensing her gaze upon him. She leaned back towards Caroline, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Let’s get that drink now. I think Marcel, the vamp we’re supposed to meet, is here.”
Caroline’s eyes followed hers to where Marcel sat, now staring straight at them. The rest of the group—caught up in a heated debate regarding the ethics of slipping a human loved one daily vampire blood doses just in case of a tragic accident—didn’t seem to notice. A shiver went down her spine as she met his deep, chocolate-brown eyes.
They were lovely, she realized. He seemed lovely. In a strange way, he looked like the nicest looking vampire she had ever met. Not in a good looks kind of way (though he was certainly good looking), but in a genuine, you would meet him and immediately think he seemed like a nice person kind of way.
Weird. This was he-who-shall-not-be-thought-of’s kind of son?
“Yeah,” Caroline replied with a nervous giggle. She downed her drink. “Let’s go say hi, I guess.”
The pair of vampires approached the bar cautiously, pausing next to the man they had arranged to meet with. Because apparently in these sorts of vampire-laden big cities it was customary to introduce oneself to the de facto ruler of the territory.
Caroline set her empty glass on the bar top, smiling brightly at the barkeep. Just because she was irritated to be in New Orleans didn’t mean she had to be rude.
“Could I get another one?” she asked.
“You can put it on my tab, Cami,” Marcel offered from behind her. Caroline shifted to find the full force of his smile upon her. She was unsurprised by the edge of flirtation to the grin, given what she had heard of his affinity for blondes from their mutual acquaintance.
She returned the smile with one of her own, her eyes roaming his form again. He really was good looking. Too bad hooking up with him might quite possibly be the most disastrous idea to ever exist.
He's your first love. I intend to be your last. However long it takes
“Thanks,” she said cheerfully, banishing him from her thoughts. “From what Trinity’s told me, I’m guessing you’re Marcel?”
The vampire gave a short nod, the gesture belying a certain arrogance that Caroline attributed to his age. Or perhaps his Mikaelson upbringing, a small voice in her head snipped.
“At your service,” he said, his voice low and courteous. She was startled as he suddenly took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. His eyes burned as they stared into hers, his smile too bright.
Um, seriously? He was so not old enough to get away with a hand kiss, even in vampire years. Way too smarmy-charming for his own good. Besides, wasn’t he supposed to be with Rebekah anyway? Because Klaus was just bitching about that (and seriously could that hybrid bitch about things) like only a month ago over some stupid Valentine’s Day drama. And who even know that centuries old vampires actually celebrated Valentine’s Day? Not Caroline, that was for sure.
Oh. Shit.
She had thought his name. Her gaze slid quickly to the door, as though merely thinking it might summon his presence. It was ridiculous. It’s not like he was freaking Voldemort or something.
“Caroline,” she blurted when Trinity nudged her after too long a moment. She blushed, stammering, “I mean, my name is Caroline. And this is Trinity. And we’re here on spring break, as I’m sure you know. Totally not here for any power grabs or politic-y supernatural things. Just completely normal run-of-the-mill, average New Orleans college spring break trip.”
She broke off, frowning at her friend as Trinity snorted affectionately at her rambling. Next to her, Marcel gave a throaty chuckle. “Yes, well, I always like to check in with newcomers, let them know the ground rules even if they’re only here for a few days,” he informed them. “The rules are mostly for us vampires, but we all have to do our part to avoid exposing the supernatural world to the humans. Visiting witches can practice magic and werewolves are allowed in the city, but they’re not allowed to provoke the vampires. As for the vampires, no killing or siring if you can help it, and keep the feeding to the tourists, not the locals.”
At the latter half of the instructions, Caroline’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. It certainly did not seem like a rule that Klaus (ugh, she had thought his name once and he had not appeared like Voldemort so what harm was thinking it again now going to do?) would instate. Maybe there was some merit to the rumor of a weird vampire-witch-werewolf-human council after all.
Probably not though. It was so not his style.
Marcel chuckled at the look of surprise on the younger vamp’s face. Mayah, the contact that had directed Trinity to him, had informed him that they both attended school in Washington, an area of the country with a relatively low-vampire and high-werewolf population. There was certainly no similar vampire governing structure that ran Seattle, so he could imagine that the rules protecting the human population here were something of a surprise.
He watched as a wide smile bloomed across the pretty blonde one’s face, her blue eyes lighting up. She seemed pleased by the rule—unsurprising, given how young he could sense she was. Still a baby vamp, less than a decade under her belt if he wasn’t mistaken. There was a lot more humanity in her eyes than he was used to seeing in those of the vampires of this town.
She turned the grin towards Cami as the bartender returned with her drink, thanking her softly.
“I’m not sure how much you all know about how we run things here in New Orleans,” Marcel continued, deciding to play into the blonde’s apparent affinity for humane eating a bit more, “but there are some humans who know about the existence of the supernatural and represent the interests of their group. Cami here is actually the head of the human faction.”
Cami gave a short smile, nodding somewhat uncomfortably towards the two vampires. “Nice to meet you,” she offered, placing a towel she had been cleaning with down on the bar. “Welcome to New Orleans.”
“Thanks,” Trinity chirped. “Hey sorry to ask after you just made Care’s drink, but could I get a mojito?”
“Sure, coming right up,” Cami said, somewhat relieved to be given an out from engaging in the conversation. She lingered nearby, though, still within hearing range even for a human. She had been privy to Marcel’s welcome-to-the-city greeting/warning many times before, but she always liked to remain nearby, just in case. It paid to know if there was a chance someone new to the city might be a problem for the humans down the road.
As the barkeep returned to fixing Trinity her drink, Caroline cast her gaze again over Marcel’s form.
“So, you rule the city, huh?” she asked casually. She still somewhat doubted that Klaus was really so willing to share power. Completely not his MO.
At the once over, Marcel’s grin seemed to brighten further and he leaned forward in his seat. “Yes. Well, co-rule. It’s a new development, but for the best, I believe,” he told her smoothly. Caroline resisted the urge to scoff. If he was really raised a Mikaelson, she doubted he was so willing to share power that easily. “I would be happy to show you around,” he continued flirtatiously after a moment, his smile easing at the corners. Marcel paused a long second before adding, “All of you.”
Caroline’s eyes widened at the offer, and she exchanged a look with Trinity. Approval shone in her friend’s eyes, though Caroline herself was much less convinced. (Um, hello, Rebekah?? And that wasn’t even mentioning the shitshow that would ensue if Klaus found out.) To hide her anxiety at the thought, she glanced back towards the booth where most of their friends were still seated and chatting. “Uh, sure maybe.”
Caroline frowned slightly, though, as when she looked back towards her friends, she realized the bar had slowly begun to empty, despite the fact that it was still early evening.
Weird, she thought. Definitely not what I imagined a popular New Orleans bar to look like on a Friday night. She paused. Not that I’ve spent much time imagining what New Orleans bars look like, of course.
She turned back to ask Cami if the bar was perhaps closing early or for dinner or something, when Marcel spoke again.
“Great! Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m sure you’re all really here from UW on spring break, but it is a little strange to see so many supernaturals interacting in one group with ease. Not to mention three unknown daywalkers in my city. We just like to be careful here,” he began.
Caroline tensed. The statement, paired with the now deserted bar, did not bode well.
Trinity frowned. “Do you need to see our Student IDs or something?” she asked flatly, arching an eyebrow. “I thought Mayah vouched for me. And for them.”
“Oh, she did,” Marcel assured her with his too wide, too charming grin. “But my partner is, well, not the most trusting of sorts. And with the new truce and all, I prefer full disclosure, to keep him happy.”
Caroline froze. Oh no. Oh shit.
“Your partner?” Trinity asked, her brows flicking up. “You mean…” she trailed off, the dramatic pause more telling than saying his name would be. Caroline almost rolled her eyes because God he would enjoy the dramatics of it all way too much.
Marcel winced good naturedly, his eyes flicking to the side as Cami returned with Trinity’s mojito. “Yes,” he confirmed solemnly. “My co-ruler, Klaus Mikaelson.”
Damnit.
“Klaus is on his way here?” Caroline breathed, her posture stiffening. She didn’t even care that her tone had come out as entirely too frantic—though as Marcel’s eyes narrowed slowly and his head tilted to the side, she realized that perhaps she should have. “Like, right now?”
She looked on with poorly veiled panic as Marcel and Cami exchanged a glance, Cami’s face softening even as Marcel’s hardened. From the corner of her eye, she saw Trinity throw her a confused glance, evidently bewildered by her sudden alarm. Because she didn’t know. Because Caroline had never told her any of it. Because Mystic Falls was its own hell in a handbasket and Caroline refused to even broach the topic of it with a hundred-foot pole.
“You know him?” Marcel asked in surprise, staring at her quizzically. “Klaus?”
Caroline shifted uncomfortably. Because no way was she about to start explaining her relationship with the Big Bad in a random supernatural bar in New Orleans of all places.
“We’ve met,” she admitted evasively.
Trinity gave a strangled noise of surprise from next to her and Caroline scrunched her nose in a wince, knowing she would be paying for keeping this little nugget of information to herself.
But again. Mystic Falls. Hell in a handbasket. Hundred-foot pole.
She turned back to Marcel, a pleading look in her doe eyes. “I promise, I’m really not here as an enemy. So, if you could please just call him and tell him that we’re all checked out and there's really nothing to worry about that would be amazing.” She flashed him her best Miss Mystic smile, extra bright in the way she knew tended to have men bending over backwards to fulfill her wishes.
Marcel, of course, was not so easily persuaded. If anything, his eyes narrowed further, a calculating gleam shining in the earlier smiling depths. “I’m sorry Caroline, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“If you leave now, he won’t chase you,” a voice from behind the bar suddenly spoke up. Caroline glanced towards Cami, surprised by the concern that shone on the human’s face. “You can make it out of New Orleans without him catching you.”
Caroline blinked at the other blonde for a moment, a bit taken aback by the claim and the confidence with which it was spoken. She doubted even Klaus would make so certain a claim about his own intentions. Unless he was in the middle of a temper tantrum and about to do something really stupid for the sake of pridefully following through on an even stupider threat.
Stupid Original Hybrid man-child. Original Hybrid man-child who was on his way to Rousseau’s. Where she currently was. In New Orleans.
Ugh. She was so freaking screwed.
“No,” Caroline finally managed, shaking her head. “I mean it. We really aren’t enemies. More like…” she paused because really, she didn’t know what she and Klaus were.
Not enemies (anymore). Not allies or friends (because no matter if he flashed those dimples at her and asked to be friends that was definitely not what they were). Not just acquaintances (because God, what a paltry word to describe their relationship).
“Well, I mean it’s Klaus,” she finally sighed, giving up as the silence stretched on too long between the four of them. “But I’m not here as his enemy. Just spring break.”
“Wait, Care,” Trinity cut in, pale green eyes wide as she stared at her best friend. “You’re not joking? You actually know Klaus? Like The Klaus?”
Caroline huffed at her friend’s words, if only to keep from cringing at the slight accusation in them. “Ugh, please do not call him that. That is just so feeding into his alpha male bullshit.”
“Oh, come now love. You of all people should know, I am the alpha male.”
Caroline’s breath caught.
In another instance, she might have scoffed at the words, the callback to one of their innumerable arguments. (Because really, did he memorize every word that they had ever exchanged? Unfortunately, though, Caroline supposed she was no better.)
In this instance, however, her entire world seemed to freeze as Klaus’s words filtered in, the accented voice like a caress as she registered his presence. She fought to keep her eyes from shuttering closed at the realization that he was mere feet away, to keep her ears from honing in on his too familiar heartbeat.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she hesitantly shifted to face him.
Klaus stood silhouetted against the doorway, neon lights filtering in from outside bars casting him in a strange multicolor whirlpool. Her breath stuttered (ugh, come on, vampires didn’t even need to breath) as she took in the familiar lines of his face, the longer, untamed golden curls, the brilliant, dimpled smile on his lips as he stared at her as though she were a miracle. Always looking at her as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real.
She had forgotten, until that moment, what it was, what if felt like, to be looked at like that by him. With adoration and awe and so much sheer feeling. So earnest. Back in Mystic Falls, that was always one of the hardest parts—pretending as though those moments where she was made to feel like the most important person in the world weren’t exhilarating. Even by him. Especially by him.
Behind her, Caroline could feel the eyes of all her friends pinned to her back, the only patrons left in the deserted New Orleans bar. She could feel Marcel’s calculation and Cami’s concern. But she only had eyes for the hybrid in front of her.
She was unsurprised when he vamped forward, coming to stand right before her, only a breath separating the pair of them. She could feel her friends startle, Marcel, only a few short paces away, tense and shift closer. In the background, she thought she could maybe hear Cami say something, a plea perhaps for Klaus not to hurt her. She barely registered the noise.
Instead, Caroline stared back into Klaus’s cornflower blue eyes, not even bothering to mask the surprise and uncertainty in her gaze. He would see through any veneer she put up anyways. He had always been able to tell when she was holding back.
“Caroline," he murmured as if in disbelief, his gaze dipping. And then, though she might refute the claim later, it was no surprise when he closed the distance and his lips were on hers.
Klaus’s lips were always so surprisingly soft. So soft and gentle and just as she had before on that fateful day in the woods, Caroline found herself getting swept up in the kiss despite herself. And for a moment, too long a moment, Caroline found herself returning the kiss. She felt herself press into him, felt herself tilt her head just slightly to kiss him a little bit deeper, her lips moving against Klaus’s as though it were reflexive, natural.
Except it wasn’t. Because this was Klaus. And she still had a few more centuries before she could really—
Nope, still not considering that line of thinking.
With a gasp, Caroline broke away from the Hybrid, pushing him roughly back.
“Seriously??” she demanded, waving her arms frantically. “Are you freaking kidding me? You can’t just go around kissing people without their permission, Klaus.”
He smirked at her deviously. Still, he relented a step. “Come now love, I was just giving you a proper greeting.” He gave an unconcerned flick of his fingers. “You are stunning as ever, Caroline,” he added after a moment, blue eyes blazing with intensity as he cast an appreciative look at the silver dress and its sweetheart neckline.
She glared at him, furious. “Yeah, well maybe that was a greeting back in the twelfth century when men got away with being gross, but this is not the twelfth century,” she seethed. “I know you’re like a gazillion years old and all but that is so not cool.”
Even though she totally saw it coming and did nothing to stop it. And definitely enjoyed it way too much.
His eyes twinkled in an unfair, not at all adorable way as he smiled earnestly back at her. “Apologies, love,” he said cheekily. “I was merely happy to see you.”
Here. In New Orleans. With me.
The words hung between the two of them, unspoken. Caroline fidgeted nervously as a beat of silence passed. She was suddenly aware of the others watching them, and she fought not to glance to the side where Trinity sat. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of others by any means, but she also didn’t feel comfortable leaving her friends’ side. She so did not want to leave them alone if Rebekah or any of the other Originals were running around.
“Klaus,” she began hesitantly, “I’m… I’m not here for you.”
Caroline looked down at the drink her hands, braced herself for his retaliatory comments, for the harshness of his anger at her rejection. Because it was another rejection—even if she did maybe enjoy texting him and she was perhaps a little bit more susceptible to his charms than she had allowed herself to be back in the good old self-righteous Mystic Falls days.
“Yes, well, I quite figured that from the fact that you didn’t inform me of your arrival.”
Caroline blinked at his cool response. There was a hint of the bitterness she expected—but none of the anger. In fact, it felt almost teasing and Caroline glanced at him in surprise.
He flashed her a smirk, so full of mischief and so much the Klaus that she could never quite allow herself to admit she liked. “This is the spring break vacation, then, the one you did not deign to fill me in on? I must say it is much less tropical than I would have imagined for you. And you have entirely missed Mardi Gras. Uncharacteristically poor planning on your part, sweetheart,” he tutted.
Caroline’s gaze snapped to his challengingly at the goading remark, and she glared at him as she crossed her arms. “Well, I can’t exactly control our pre-set school calendar. And I certainly didn’t choose New Orleans for spring break,” she snapped. She gave him a sickly-sweet smile even as her eyes continued to flash. “But naturally, somehow, after ten centuries of bloodshed and conquest and single-minded domination, you all of a sudden decided to mature and pull your head out of your own ass to create some stupid vampire-witch-werewolf-human utopia right when we were trying to plan our spring break trip. And now all of sudden everyone wants to visit New Orleans, and it’s Trinity and Micah’s last spring break and I can’t just convince everyone not to visit New Orleans because my—you are now some stupid pseudo co-ruler. Which I totally do not understand and do not trust by the way because no way would you agree to co-rule anything.”
Caroline was breathing heavily as she finished her rant, ending it with a furious glare at Klaus. Rousseau’s was deathly silent, the occupants standing stock-still as though all the air had been sucked from the room. Unbeknownst to Caroline, her friends had risen to their feet behind her, poised as though ready to jump to her defense at a moment’s notice. At the bar, Cami and Marcel exchanged a wide-eyed glance.
They all waited with bated breath for the hybrid’s response. His temper was infamous and his bite deadly, after all.
Klaus’s lips curved into a satisfied grin. “If it earns me your wrath, love, perhaps I shall endeavor to be mature more than once in a millennium.”
Caroline threw her hands up in the air, a noise of exasperation ripped from her. The others startled behind her, not quite sure what to make of their friend in such a heated exchange with the Original Hybrid.
After a moment, Caroline calmed herself, taking a deep breath. When she turned back to Klaus, she flashed him her best Miss Mystic smile. He preened under the attention. “Okay. Well. Klaus. As you can see, neither I, nor my friends, are here to harm you. So, you can leave now.”
She smiled prettily at him. Behind her, she was pretty sure she could hear Micah choke on a laugh. She was reminded, once again, that her friends were bearing witness to all of this and God this was so freaking embarrassing. Maybe she should just leave and have this discussion somewhere else. Surely her friends could handle Marcel, right? Or Rebekah if she turned up?
Klaus chuckled darkly at her words, taking a daring step forward. She shivered as he entered her space but didn’t move back when he wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist and tugged her in the direction of the bar.
Ugh. She had forgotten how freaking stubborn he was when it came to her rejections of him. If it wasn’t so irritating it might have been sweet.
“May I buy you a drink? Champagne perhaps?” he asked teasingly.
Caroline rolled her eyes. “Still not our thing. And no,” she answered, tugging her hand from his grasp and gearing up for another tangent. “No drinks. And no drawings. And no jewelry. In fact, no nothing of any kind. Because I am here with my friends. On spring break. Which means hurricanes, and jazz clubs, and yes, maybe a drunken hook up with a stranger at said jazz club after said hurricane, but it definitely does not mean champagne, and it definitely does not mean you.”
Klaus faltered. His smile began to slip from his lips at the words, a coldness seeping into his gaze. And as his face fell, Caroline suddenly felt sick. Because she realized that where before the argument back and forth had been somewhat good natured, this time her words were harsh and she had unwittingly slipped back into acting like Mystic Falls Caroline again. And while in some ways she was still that girl, she no longer saw the world in black and white, so jaded and blindly convinced that there was a definitive right and a wrong.
And, well, even if Klaus had done so much wrong in the past, here she had been in the wrong. Because offering her champagne and goading her with quips about calendars and spring break planning had been nothing but his attempts at being charming. He hadn’t even paused to question whether this might be some new underhanded scheme, a reversion to her little blonde distraction role. It was perhaps as much trust as Klaus was ever comfortable extending to another person.
Her gaze dropped. “Sorry,” she murmured, eyes downcast. She brought a hand up to scrub across her face. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just—it was a lot for me to come here. And I was worried about seeing you and then you were here and I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression because, well…”
She trailed off. The silence spoke for itself. She stared at the ground, a crinkle forming between her brows as her face burned.
“Caroline.” The word was a command, a plea to look up and meet his gaze. Slowly she did so, and her breath caught at the look. It was tender and bitter and so unexpectedly soft. How was Klaus Mikaelson even able to look at someone like that? At her like that? “Do you remember what I said to you the first night we met?”
There's a whole world out there waiting for you, great cities and art and music, genuine beauty, and you can have all of it.
She smiled weakly. “Something about birthdays?” she tried, her tone joking. “You love birthdays.”
His lips twitched back up into a small grin, the grooves in his cheeks deepening as he gave her a real smile. “I do not expect yet, that you are done exploring it on your own.” He allowed a significant beat to pass. Caroline blinked rapidly at his words, something easing in her chest.
However long it takes.
She softened, smiling. “Fine,” she relented with a huff. “One glass of champagne. But,” she held up a finger to him in warning, “it is still not our thing.”
Klaus preened. “Brilliant,” he announced, turning back to Cami. “A bottle of champagne and two glasses, if you please love.”
For the first time since she and Klaus had begun their argument, Caroline allowed herself to glance back towards her friends. She cringed at the bewildered looks on their faces, the accusation that shone in their eyes.
“Um. What the hell, Care,” Naia finally broke the silence of the assembled group. The others seemed to echo the sentiment, staring at her in befuddlement. Even Cami hadn’t moved despite Klaus’s request, still peering at the pair of them with wide eyes.
Caroline frowned as she cut a glance toward the bartender. Wide eyes… and a bit of hurt? What was that about?
She followed the blonde’s jealous gaze to where Klaus was still staring at Caroline tenderly.
…
Oh.
Wow.
So not her problem.
Because while Caroline could have been jealous and maybe she usually would be, she had a promise of however long it takes waiting for her. And honestly, ever since she accepted the existence of them, Klaus’s feelings for her had never really been something she questioned.
She was the one he was looking at, after all.
Instead, Caroline cringed slightly at Naia’s words, throwing a glare at Klaus’s unrepentant, smirking form. He lifted his brows as though challenging her to say something.
“I met him back when I lived in Mystic Falls?” she tried, hoping that she would be able to use her hellmouth of a town as an excuse to sweep this under the rug as well.
From her side, Trinity snorted. Good enough for her perhaps, and oh how she loved her for it. Her easy-going best friend who balanced out Caroline’s neurosis so well. But Naia didn’t look ready to let this go, taking another step forward as though she were about to wedge herself between Klaus and Caroline.
“Are you two,” she paused as though searching for the right word, “dating?” she finally settled on, grimacing as though the word were painful to get out.
“No!”
“I would hardly call it something so juvenile as dating, love.”
Caroline and Klaus responded at the same time. He smirked again at the glare she sent him and really, she needed to smack that smirk off his face because it was seriously starting to annoy the crap out of her.
Stupid smug sexy Original Hybrid.
Caroline cleared her throat, ready for the conversation to move on. Because seriously, this was still the worst place in the world for her and Klaus to be discussing the nature of their relationship.
She smiled gratefully as Cami brought forth the bottle of champagne, thankful to have something else to focus on. Quickly, she downed the rest of her daiquiri before shooting Trinity and Naia pointed glares that told them to please stop staring at her and Klaus like they were some sort of circus act. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief as Trinity turned towards Marcel and Naia at last shifted to engage the rest of their friends in a conversation.
It was no doubt still about her, Caroline thought grudgingly, but at least they were no longer listening in to what really should be a private interchange.
“Easy love,” Klaus murmured from her side. At the sidelong glance she shot him, his blue eyes danced with mischief. “I’m under strict orders. No drinks. And I would much prefer for you to be staying away from any drunk hookups with strangers in my city, so let’s not get carried away.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I can have as many drinks as I want. Just none from you apart from the champagne. Marcel bought me this one.”
Klaus’s eyes narrowed as they shifted to his protégé. “Did he now?” he asked, his tone light though a darkness had begun to creep into his eyes.
Caroline gave a disgusted noise as she set aside her second empty daiquiri glass of the night. “Ugh, stop with the cavemen tendencies,” she complained. “This is so why werewolves get a bad rep,” she announced over her shoulder in the direction of the werewolf trio.
Klaus’s brows flitted up. “I believe you mean hybrids, sweetheart,” he corrected as he moved to open the champagne bottle and pour each of them a glass.
Caroline scrunched up her nose even as she accepted it. “I forgot how weird you are about that difference.”
“Well, when one lives with their wolf locked away for a millennium, it is a rather momentous occasion to regain that aspect of their identity.”
“God, your mom was such a bitch.”
The words were so completely unexpected that Klaus barked a loud laugh. Caroline gave a soft giggle.
“I’ll toast to that, love. And to the opportunity to finally show you around my city.” The words were casual, though Caroline could hear a hint of a question in them. “Welcome to New Orleans, Caroline,” he added, voice softening.
Food, music, art, culture.
Maybe one day you’ll let me.
She sipped her champagne, humming noncommittally. “I’ve actually already had someone offer themselves up as my tour guide,” she informed him placidly, resisting the urge to smirk. It was maybe a bit underhanded, but honestly the payback was totally worth it. She had practically begged Marcel to call Klaus off and he had brushed her off without a thought.
Klaus stiffened, darkness creeping into his gaze once again as he clearly sensed the underlying implication and turned to glare at Marcel. Caroline allowed it for a moment before she gave a short laugh that drew his attention back to her.
“Okay, there are way too many caveman jokes I can make about your age right now, so I won’t even try. Marcel was just being nice. Oh, and by the way, the paranoia? Totally your son,” she teased, grinning as she rolled her eyes. “Besides aren’t he and Rebekah still a thing? In a weird, Game of Thrones, I don’t really want to think about it, Oedipal complex kind of way?”
Klaus chuckled lowly at the latter portion of her statement, taking a short sip of his champagne. “At the moment, I believe they are on what you would call a break.”
Caroline’s grin dropped and stared at him, baffled. “Are you making a Friends reference?”
“If that is the insipid show that Hayley insists on playing at night when the rest of the house is attempting to sleep, then yes.”
At the explanation, she snorted. “Oh wow. It must be so strange living with someone who actually understands how 21st century technology works.”
The hybrid sent her an exasperated look. “I believe I understand technology just fine, sweetheart, seeing as I was there when it was being developed.”
Caroline gave a noncommittal hum as she took another sip of the champagne. She sighed happily at the flavor, because seriously, if nothing else Klaus totally knew his alcohol.
“How is Hope doing?” she asked him softly, lowering her voice as she tentatively broached the topic of his young daughter.
It had taken a little while for Klaus and Caroline to be able to text about Hope without it being awkward. Caroline hadn’t been upset with Klaus when she found out, necessarily. As he had reassured her, he and Hayley only hooked up because she and Tyler were back together and they were both rip-roaringly drunk and wallowing in self-pity. Besides, it wasn't exactly as though Caroline had been much of a saint these past few years in college. Still, it was uncomfortable, the topic of his miracle child with the werewolf (hybrid now) who had snapped her neck and tried to steal her boyfriend.
At the question, though, Klaus’s smile was sweet and beautiful and Caroline couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. “She is beautiful. And already a wonderful artist. Would you like to meet her while you are here?”
Caroline’s eyes widened at the offer and she gaped at him, startled. She supposed it wasn’t exactly surprising that he wanted her to meet Hope—Klaus was many things, but subtle about his desire for her presence in his life was not one of them—and he had alluded before to the fact that he hoped they would meet eventually in the texts that they sometimes exchanged.
Still, she couldn’t help herself as she stammered out, “I—are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to overstep.”
“I would gladly introduce the two of you right now,” he informed her. “I must warn you, however, that she is of the age that anytime she meets a woman as lovely as yourself wearing a dress, she is prone to mistake you for a princess.”
At the compliment, Caroline smiled bashfully and closed her eyes with a soft laugh. He was ridiculous, the things he said were always so ridiculous.
Klaus’s gaze was intent upon her when her eyes fluttered back open. For a moment, Caroline hesitated because seriously, this was so not how she had planned the night going. Even when she had known Klaus was on his way, she had been resolved to ignore him until he left her alone.
But, well, they texted now. And she liked to listen to his voicemail when she felt lonely. And okay, she would maybe be more open to calling and talking on the phone after this visit. Or Facetiming him. And now that she was here, even though it most definitely was not to see him, perhaps she could indulge him just a bit, indulge herself too. Because she definitely was not going to be visiting New Orleans for at least two centuries after this trip and well, she did want to meet Hope.
Caroline cut a glance toward her friends. She still felt a little weird about leaving them behind at the bar, what with the Originals and whatever enemies they always seemed to attract lurking about. Klaus seemed to sense her unease, because of course he did, freakishly attuned to the thoughts she always tried to keep hidden as he was.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “Marcel will keep an eye on your friends and appraise us of any dangers.” He finished the last of his champagne, before setting it down and standing. He held out an arm to her with a dimpled grin, charming and boyish and so very Caroline's Klaus. She wondered if her friends back in Mystic Falls would even recognize the man before her. “Let us go and meet my daughter, Caroline.”
Caroline stared at his proffered arm for a long moment. And then slowly she stood, and she took it.
It was not forever. Not yet. But it was a step in that direction. And though the doubts still nagged at Caroline, though she was not yet ready for forever, at least today she was ready to meet his daughter—and perhaps ready, even if only to herself, to acknowledge the truth that was however long it takes.