#and demands she and Rebecca be added to the text thread

[fangirl-k8ee-ladyknight]

I need a fanfic where everyday after four am training, Jamie sends a “Roy-cast” to the team chat letting them know Roy’s general mood for the day and what he predicts practice is going to look like for the day.

When Roy takes over as gaffer, he stops the private training with Jamie to avoid accusations of favoritism. Within two weeks the team beg him to start back up again because:

1) him and Jamie are sniping at each other again and while it’s not loan season bad, it’s making everyone anxious and clearly the two of them need that time together to get it out of their system everyday, and more importantly,

2) they need the Roy-cast back because it’s fucking with everyone’s breakfast choices and now Will doesn’t know when to have extra towels ready or to make a larger batch of sport drink.

[cupcakemolotov]

Act Like It

CONGRATULATIONS TO @lalainajanes FOR GETTING THE JOB! HERE IS A BIT OF CONGRATULATIONS SMUT FOR YOU. IT IS EVEN AH!

Warnings: Smut. Assassins. Fake Marriage (of a sort). Discussion of torture, murder, stealing, non-con cloning, more murder. Mostly a lot of assassins behaving badly and then, smut.

Caroline’s fingers curled reflexively on the knife she’d slipped beneath her pillow as the front door of her modest apartment quietly closed. A quick glance at the neon clock on the other side of the bed said it was a little past two am. An intruder expecting easy prey was about to have a bad night. It’d been a really rough two days. A little violence might be just what she needed to clear her head. The flickering of the hallway light turning on surprised her, as did the familiar sound of her name being spoken in an accent she hadn’t expected to hear again for years.

Klaus stepped into her line of sight a moment later, wearing what she’d taken to calling his work clothes, the dark shirt and pants form fitting but breathable. Only his gloves and gun were missing, and the state of his curls said he’d showered recently.

She tried not to fidget as his gaze raked down her body. The small curve of his lips in the light as he took in her wild hair and weapon was a kick to her gut, but it was the slight stiffening of his his body as he realized what she was wearing that left her heart pounding.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, shoving her hair out of her face. Relief that he was okay and embarrassment at being caught in his clothes warred in her chest, and she felt her ears burning. But even embarrassed, his presence eased the tight muscles in her neck and the strain behind her eyes. “You’re freaking lucky I recognized you.”

“Now, love, we both know you’d never throw your only weapon.” The soft indulgence in his words left her scowling.

“What on earth gave you the idea that this is my only weapon?”

Klaus laughed softly, leaning against the door jam and she reluctantly found herself relaxing at the sound. He lifted his hands, offering his palms in apology as his expression softened. “I would have avoided waking you if I could but with the last few days being what they were, I found myself impatient. I needed to see you are well.”

She bit her lip, rolling her knife hilt along her palm as unexpected nerves fluttered in her belly. “I thought you’d have been on the first plane back to London by now.”

Klaus’ head tipped in silent acknowledgement of her words, jaw working for a long moment. “I considered it.”

A simple statement, but it left too much between them. There was no chance she’d manage to go back to sleep until he explained what that meant, and she put her knife down with a scowl. “Seriously? That’s it? You considered it?”

His eyes closed briefly and he rubbed his jaw. “Why don’t you come with me into the kitchen. I’ll make coffee. We can talk.”

She ignored the coaxing in his voice and gave the clock one more longing glance, though it was mostly for show. They both knew her curiosity would overrule her need for sleep. Huffing, Caroline reached for the sheath for her knife. “Fine, but this better be good, Mikaelson.”

“I’ll start the pot,” he murmured before disappearing back down the hall. The lights flickered on further in her apartment, followed shortly by the sound of running water. When she didn’t hear the sound of the kettle being used, she blew out a breath.

If Klaus was drinking coffee instead of his gross tea, it was likely to be one hell of a conversation.

Sighing, Caroline pushed herself out of the tangle of bedding and walked to her closet to find a robe. She had no intention of pulling on clothes, much less a bra when she still had some hope of sleeping at some point. Studiously ignoring other half of the closet, she pulled on the terry bath robe and tried to sort her mess of emotions.

She’d received a short text from Klaus a little over thirty six hours earlier, letting her know both he and Rebecca were alive. The relief had been short lived. Worse, he hadn’t replied to her return text, and when he’d been radio silent for more than eight hours, she’d finally destroyed her phone. Silas had critically compromised their communications networks, and it had taken both her and Enzo hours to patch together what they could long enough to get put out a warning before nuking their servers.

The last bit of information she’d seen go through the hastily created safety net had been from Elijah. The ping had been for Europe. The States would be too hot for what was left of their gutted agency, and the order to retreat had been expected. Particularly as the bodies had continued to pile up.

The Feds were not going to appreciate their dead agents anymore than they would like Silas’ murder.

Playing with the plain band on her left hand, Caroline tried not to speculate what Klaus wanted. In the tiny, secret part of her heart she knew what she hoped for but Klaus had never been easy to read. Deciding there was no point in running in tired mental circles, she padded out of the bedroom and squinted at the lights. The kitchen smelled of percolating coffee, and Klaus was rummaging through the cabinets, the long line of him absurdly distracting.

Refusing to stare or do something silly like slide her arms around his waist for a hug, Caroline opened the fridge to dig out the tiny bottle of flavored creamer she’d picked up earlier.  “Who did you kill?”

“Just a couple loose ends,” Klaus said as he pulled down mugs and handed her one. Knowing that could mean anything after the last two days, she made a noncommittal noise and reached for the coffee pot. It paused its stream and she dumped almost a cups worth of coffee her mug before putting it back on to finish.

Ignoring the intensity of Klaus’ gaze, she added her creamer. “The rest of your siblings all accounted for?”

She hadn’t seen a message about Kol. He’d already said Rebekah was with him, so she hadn’t worried about her least favorite Mikaelson. Klaus was a dangerous opponent on his own, but he and Rebekah together tended to leave a trail of carnage behind them. She wondered who had drawn the unfortunate straw of trying to arrest them or if Silas had simply tried to have them assasinated.

“Hmm,” he agreed, exasperation threading through his words. She turned to face him, biting the side of her tongue when his eyes unapologetically took their sweet time lifting from bare length of her legs. Heat lingered in his gaze, dark and potent, but his words were cool. “Kol finally popped up in Germany. Not a scratch on him.”

“Pity,” she muttered hoping she sounded just as unaffected. The kitchen was cool but her skin suddenly felt flushed.

Klaus’ eyes gleamed. “Finn’s dead.”

Caroline wondered at Klaus’ blase tone when speaking of his least favorite brother’s murder when she knew his emotions ran hot. She’d known there had been no love lost between Finn and Klaus, their personalities and opinions had usually been in stark contrast to each other. But Klaus has always been loyal in his own way, and Finn’s death would not have been an easy matter.

“What happened?”

Klaus tipped his head to the side. “He was our traitor.”

“Finn? You’re sure?”

“Quite. Elijah confirmed the kill.”

Shock raced through her. For Elijah to murder his brother, Finn would have to have betrayed the family on a fundamental level. Elijah, she knew, would have been sure before performing the execution.

Leaning against the counter, Caroline let herself really study Klaus’ face. The scruff was familiar, as was the set of his mouth. It looked like he’d actually gotten some sleep, the bastard. The tightness at the corners of his mouth, the small lines at the corners of his eyes were more from anger than grief and so she finally nodded in acceptance.

“Do we know why?”

“Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid. Good old-fashioned revenge. It seems Finn never forgave Esther for Sage’s death.”

Caroline had never met Sage. Seven years younger than Klaus, she had been little more than a child when Sage had died. Her parents had been divorced long before the eldest Mikaelson had married, and Bill had insured her contact to Liz had been sparse.

Not that her mother had fought for visitation.

“But why Silas?” She questioned, pulling her thought away from her painful childhood. “He hated your mother, but Esther has been dead for months.”

Klaus sighed, and lifted to drag through his curls. “Sage was Silas’s niece, through his wife, Amara. He too, did not lightly forgive her death.”

Caroline grimaced. It explained why Finn and Silas had collaborated, if not the how. She wondered when Esther’s ghosts would stop haunting them.

“Finn knew what he was doing.” She finally murmured. “I am sorry it came to that though.”

“I’m not.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Klaus.”

“Better to weed out the traitors now than later, love.” That small smile that curved his lips at her huff did funny things to her insides. His gaze dipped and lingered on her left hand, and he leaned back against the counter, something satisfied flickering in his eyes. “You’re still wearing your ring.”

Her fingers tightened on her mug at the change of subject, and Caroline shrugged. Lied. “Habit.”

It hadn’t been entirely habit that had kept the ring on her finger after she’d slipped into the crowd, a burn phone in her pocket with Enzo’s number temporary number and her knife beneath her jacket. Once inside the safety of this safe house, the pretense of her fake marriage from the last year should have faded away. Instead, she’d found herself missing him, even while knowing that Klaus was likely on his way to rendezvous with the remains of his family and far away from her.

The last two days had shoved a lot of the truths she’d been hiding from herself into her face and it’s left her on emotionally shaky ground. It was why she’d pulled out one of Klaus’ Henleys to sleep in instead any number of pajamas. For all of his many and terrible faults, over the past year, Klaus had become someone grounded her. So she’d decided to give herself one night to lick her emotional wounds, to wish the charade of her marriage had been real.

But Klaus was here.

What did she do with that?

Klaus seemed to consider her lie, unbothered by the growing silence and then his fingers slipped beneath the high collar of his shirt to pull free a simple chain that was mingled among the rest of his collection. On the end of it was the ring she’d given him, and she stared at it in surprise.

“Damon and Stefan are dead,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t pivoted from one topic and back to another, his arms folded comfortably in front of his chest. The gold of the ring glinted in the bright kitchen lights. “Kol was able to confirm they were Silas’ secondary points of contact. I imagine they won’t be the only traitors we find buried in our ranks.”

Her eyes briefly closed. The Salvatore’s hadn’t been people she’d been friendly with, particularly Damon, but Stefan had been kind to her when he didn’t have to be. “Damn.”

He gave a little shrug, clearly unconcerned with their deaths. She wondered if they’d been the loose ends. “I heard you dealt with Silas.”

Caroline glanced at him as she deliberately took another sip of her cooling coffee. There was a strange sort of satisfaction in his gaze as she nodded, a flicker of heat that shouldn’t have given her goosebumps. “Yes.”

Silas had strolled into the remains of her headquarters after the Feds had killed her friends, secure in the knowledge that he’d won. It’d pissed her off and she was used to being underestimated. She’d known that the Feds had brushed her off as a pretty showpiece that Klaus pulled out now and again to prove he wasn’t completely insane. A bit of a pretty distraction, to keep him from going truly off kilter. It hadn’t mattered that she was Liz Forbes’ daughter.

Not to them.

That had been a mistake. While she had grown up outside of the family business, she’d still grown up in terrible violence. And Silas?

He’d stood between her and Enzo. Enzo, who had been her first friend in her new life. Silas had deserved that bullet.

“I don’t know what Silas was promised, but he seemed very comfortable dismantling the security protocols.” Her gaze narrowed, nails tapping against her coffee mug. “It was like he was looking for something.”

“Amara,” Klaus said and she blinked, not understanding. “Either Finn or Feds promised him Amara. Finn, most likely. While the Feds were useful tools, I am not certain Finn would have told them that particular tidbit of our family history.”

“I thought Amara was dead?” Caroline questioned, still confused. “She died in the same accident that killed Qetsiyah, right?”

“My mother was not that merciful,” Klaus said softly. “Amara is at a medical facility in Switzerland, in an induced coma. She was injured horribly, but she survived, though living is perhaps too strong of a word for the past thirty years. Esther seemingly decided that Amara could potentially be worth more alive to her than dead and acted accordingly.”

Caroline shook her head. “That’s…”

“Esther and Silas had quite the volatile history, as you can imagine.” Klaus shrugged. “We’re fairly certain he was behind Esther’s assassination. If he hadn’t attempted to destroy the rest of our family, I’d have let him live in thanks for her death.”

“Did the Salvatore’s know about Amara?”

“Unlikely. My mother hid her secrets well. They did, however, know more about Elena and Katerina than they should have.”

She froze, mug halfway to her mouth and stared at Klaus. “What?”

“Esther was obsessed with immortality,” Klaus said dryly. “Katerina and Elena’s existence owe that obsession for their existence.”

“I knew your mother was crazy,” Caroline spluttered, struggling to comprehend what she was heading. “But human clones? Seriously?”

“A project that will be rendered obsolete in a matter of hours,” he said. “But once Silas was tipped off about Amara’s existence, it was only a matter of time before he made a move. I imagine the Salvatore brothers thought themselves clever in their dealings, when in reality they were just pawns to be moved about.”

Reaching for the coffee pot, Caroline refilled her mug with slightly shaky fingers. “You’re family was so much easier to deal with when I thought you were just killing people for money.”

Klaus made a low noise of amusement. “Liz was not so innocent in these dealings, love.”

No. She wouldn’t have been, and Caroline had thought she’d known what she was getting into when she’d tracked her mother down. Bill had always been tight lipped about the organization he’d left behind, but she did know Qetsiyah’s death had been the catalyst for a lot of things that had gone utterly wrong. Caroline didn’t know how Liz couldn’t have known what her oldest living friend had been up too.

That Liz had let it continue… it said a lot.

Bill hadn’t been wrong, to call Liz a monster. But his fallacy had been to believe that training one monster to kill another had been his best choice. Caroline knew with a bone deep certainty that if she’d followed her father’s plan he would have murdered her at her return.  An attempt to end the line at the root. No mother; no daughter.

She was what both her parents had made her

“There isn’t likely to be much that is salvageable, even on our backup servers. Enzo was extremely thorough in wiping anything the Feds hadn’t,” Caroline said finally, changing the subject. There was no point on dwelling on Esther’s mistakes or digging too deeply into old ghosts that weren’t entirely hers. Not when Liz and Esther were both dead and buried.

“Anything Finn knew about or had access too should be destroyed.”

She nodded her agreement. “There are couple of hidden caches if you want to rebuild.”

“If?” Klaus murmured.

Caroline glanced at him and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I guess it depends on where you plan on going from here. More than half of our people are dead and the rest should be going underground.”

Enzo had wanted to scatter, to disappear into Mexico and then on to South America. Caroline has asked for seventy two hours, unable to fight the niggling hope that maybe…

Just, maybe.

Klaus’ lips curved a little, a hint of a dimple peeking from his cheek. “Liz never understood what she had, did she? I know what I want our options to be, love. But a great deal of it will depend on you.”

Caroline frowned, pulse picking up at the deliberate phrasing of his words. “What does that mean?”

Klaus’s head tipped to the side, gaze holding hers. “I have arranged a private plane to take me to Prague in two days. We need to regroup, assess what’s left, and then go after our enemies in such a way no one will ever contemplate betraying us again.”

It would be bloody, time consuming work. She imagined the rest of his siblings were thrilled.  Sometimes it had felt like the petty squabbling and backbiting between the them would drive her insane, but once all of them locked on the same target, they never failed to remove it.

“You want to rebuild.”

“Not entirely. Silas and the Feds were able to exploit cracks in our organization that should not have existed.” His eyes hardened. “Some things should never have existed.”

Amara, Caroline thought. And all the secrets she kept. “How many do you think we’ll have left once the traitors are dealt with?”

“Outside the family? A dozen, maybe less.”

That number surprised her. “So few?”

Klaus nodded. “Silas culled our numbers too easily, which confirms what Elijah and I already knew. As an organization, we’d grown too bloated on our own egos.”

Caroline frowned at him. Klaus had never offered her so much information so freely. Six months ago, she’d have worried he meant to kill her too. But that’d have been… before. “Why tell me?”

“When I leave, I want you to come with me.”

Caroline caught her lip with her teeth and considered. She’d never been to Europe. She didn’t know it’s cities or its languages. Her father had never truly expected her to live past her late teens, so he had failed to give her the tools to run in that direction. But she was smart, would eventually learn what she needed too. She’d outlived her father, and even more surprisingly, her mother. Still…

“I’m not sure I’d add much value at this point,” she said slowly, carefully. She could kill and did when necessary, but she’d never be comfortable as an assassin. No matter how her father had tried to shape her. Her work with Enzo had been a project her mother had given her to keep her busy, not because she’d been expected to thrive.

But she had. But for this…

A chance to build, even if it was on the blood and ash of their enemies. She wanted the chance so badly her hands would have shaken if she hadn’t held the mug so tightly. It scared her.

“If you’re being selective on who you rebuild with, Enzo might be the better choice.” Although she wasn’t certain her friend would thank her for suggesting him. Or that she was being honest.

“You mistake me,” Klaus said. His eyes glittered in the light, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning. “And while I disagree that you would be anything but an asset, we can argue about that another time. What is important for you to understand right now is that I want you to come with me, Caroline. And I want you to be there as my wife.”

She jolted and nearly dropped her mug. Hot coffee sloshed over her fingers as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Cursing, she set her mug down and reached for a paper towel.

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“We aren’t actually married,” she pointed out in exasperation, trying to ignore the pounding of her pulse and the heat in her cheeks. It was a struggle to calm her racing pulse, the need that left her words shaky. “The wedding was fake.”

Klaus’ head tipped to the side, face set in serious lines she almost didn’t recognize. “I know the official reason for the ceremony was for cover, but is that what your mother said?”

She stared at him, unbalanced and suddenly breathless. Liz Forbes had never fully trusted Caroline. At seventeen and finally free of her father’s terrible machinations, Caroline had known that Liz was just waiting for her to try to slip a knife into her back. It was what Bill Forbes had spent all the years after their divorce training her to do, after all. There had been no love lost between her parents and Bill Forbes had hated his ex-wife. It hadn’t just been Esther who solved romantic disputes with murder, and Steven’s death had apparently ended what had been left of her parent’s partnership. At seven, Caroline cried endlessly for her mom. At seventeen, she faced down that same mother as a cool, disapproving figure who judged more harshly than her father ever had.

But even though she’d only ever found exactly what her father claimed she would in Liz, Caroline had finally found herself. It had taken time and a great deal of work, but while the Mikaelsons had watched her with cold eyes, they’d given her a chance to prove herself. And she absolutely had. She was good at what Enzo had taught her, and she was even better at organizing resources and finding potential breakdowns in backgrounds and covers.

She’d found she loved the work, to boot.

But Caroline would have sworn on a bible from any religion that during the five years that she worked for her mom, Liz Forbes had been trying to push her daughter out. That her mom had abandoned her to Bill because she’d found it too difficult to manage both her career and her family, even knowing that Bill was raising a potential threat. Liz had found her only child’s existence to be a nuisance, and her existence inside the organization had been eclipsed only by her potential threat level if they cut her loose.

Then Liz had announced her intention that Caroline marry to Klaus.

Caroline had not taken it well.

The fact that Klaus has agreed to the sham of marriage in the first place had been difficult to wrap her brain around. No one in the organization would ever willingly leave the kind of paper trail a marriage would generate, and the idea that she would marry Klaus of all people had been ludicrous. That Liz had even made the decision to arrange the marriage had been even more baffling, particularly when she’d told Caroline it was for her own good.

That it was for cover.

Klaus had been a blade wielded by Esther, the monster in the dark that even Elijah had watched with wary eyes. Only Rebekah and Kol had seemed unbothered by the brutal violence that lived so close to surface, younger siblings assured of their older brother’s loyalty as long as they never betrayed him. Klaus hadn’t needed some sort of fake domesticity to hide who and what he was from the people around them.

They already knew and were terrified by him.

Back then, he’d scared her too.

“Liz rarely explained anything,” Caroline said with a shrug as she turned to toss the wet paper towels, refusing to feel the familiar prick of hurt at that truth. “Did she need to explain anything? We aren’t legally married, Klaus. It was a sham ceremony and I imagine the so called marriage license was burned with everything else that could have left a paper trail. So I don’t know why her opinion would matter, much less mine. It’s not like I was given a choice.”

She turned to face him and froze, eyes widening as she took in his expression as he moved closer, his hands boxing her in and braced on either side of her on the countertop. The edge of the counter pressed uncomfortably against her spine, but she couldn’t bring herself to move as he studied her face with an intensity so hot it felt like a touch. It was rare they were this close to each other outside of their bed and her skin ached with awareness.

“What you think matters to me.”

She swallowed harshly at those softly rumbled words. It hadn’t been until her mother had admitted she was dying from cancer, that Liz had bothered to say anything about Caroline's wedding other than her original marching orders.

He’ll protect you, when I cannot anymore.

Caroline had never had a reason to believe those words. Liz Forbes had never done anything that Caroline could view as protecting, had never seen so much as a hint of softness except for that lone sentence as she sat on her deathbed. Her mother had been a lot of things, most of them complicated, but a mother made up such a small percentage of her identity.

And Klaus?

In all the years she had spent in the organization, they had rarely worked together. But every interaction she’d had with him had been filled with exchanged insults and his particular brand of nettling that had never failed to get under her skin. Enzo had warned her about the Mikaelsons when she first started working with him, and yet; even knowing what she’d known, she’d been unable to hold her tongue around Klaus. Not that her had ever let her try, always pushing until her temper snapped.

It’d probably been stupid to let him rile her. But as she’d told her father as he’d bled out at her feet, she would make her own choices going forward, and if those choices led to her death, so be it. Better to die a Queen than a Pawn. So she’d refused to take Klaus’ shit, even if it meant risking a knife in a dark hallway.

But even her stubbornness hadn’t been a match for her mother and it’d made her so angry to be forced into a wedding. But she’d married Klaus anyway. Fake cover, sham wedding or some twisted idea of protection, it hadn’t mattered. None of it had been legal and she’d refused to think of it as binding. At the ceremony she’d been ungracious and visibly angry, the shame of it leaving her hot with embarrassment and rage.

Klaus has been surprisingly polite at their wind, roughly kind, but she’d sworn to herself she’d hate him to her grave. And she’d given it her best effort. Usually, she was fantastic at holding grudges. But as the weeks of forced proximity had turned into months, she’d learned that underneath the prickle and bite, Klaus was surprisingly considerate. Even sweet. A lot cheesy, and he didn’t seem to mind those rare mornings where they’d both been home on a weekend and she’d woken to find she’d sprawled across the heat of him on his side of the bed. She’d found herself liking his brand of rough kindness despite herself.

Maybe even trusting him.

And once she started to trust, it’d been impossible to avoid the other, softer emotions that left her worrying when he was late for a check in. She left his food in the oven so it’d stay warm on nights she expected him. She stopped losing his tea bags in the trash can so he had to drink the instant crap he hated. She’d even gotten him a fancy European kettle for his birthday so he could heat water faster.

In turn, Klaus had made a noticeable efforts too. He stopped needling her at every opportunity, his teasing shifting to something softer, kinder. He was already assassin neat, but his bad habits of leaving towels on the floor or not rinsing his dishes before putting them in the dishwasher disappeared. He made an effort to not wake her the mornings he got up early for a job.

The sex dreams she’d simply dismissed as living with a man so intimately who cleaned up after himself and not having sex. The fact that he preferred to wander around bare chested and gorgeous had not helped her equilibrium. But while it had been impossible to ignore the chemistry between them, Klaus seemed to deliberately avoid touching her unless she touched him first. Early in their marriage, she’d appreciated it. Over the past few weeks as she wrestled with her growing feelings, she’d started to resent it.

But it’d hadn’t been until two days ago, as she put a bullet into Silas’ brain, when she faced the fact that she could really lose Klaus, that she’d realized she loved him. It had jolted through her blood like the shock of a taser. Her life had been on the precipice of another major change, and Caroline had expected him to go to Europe, to forget about her and him. To mold the remains of the organization his mother had built into his image.

Leaving her behind would have been the smart decision. A fake marriage had no place in their new world. Not when they were fighting for survival, cover stories or no. That truth had hurt, and she’d found herself mourning what could have been as she pulled his shirt over her head and climbed into a bed they’d never shared in their safe house.

One day, she’d decided as she’d laid there, when he needed a favor or their work brought them back together, she would try to see if maybe he’d missed her too. It had helped to picture all the ways they could potentially run into each other in the future while knowing it might never happen. Because not once over the past year had she ever considered that Klaus would treat the wedding ceremony as if it was real.

Licking dry lips, her stomach clenched as his gaze dropped to trace her mouth. What did it mean that he had? Her opinion mattered to Klaus. “Why on earth would you have wanted to be married to me?”

Both of his brows arched. “Why would I not?”

“Seriously? We barely knew each other. The entire thing was someone else’s idea.” She poked him in the chest and frowned. “They didn’t give me a choice, why would I assume you had one?”

“The circumstances were not ideal,” Klaus admitted freely, catching her hand. “But I do not regret marrying you.”

“But that doesn’t make sense.”

“I’ve wanted you for years, Caroline.”

“What?”

His full throated laugh did terrible things to her insides, as did his thumb sweeping across the back of her hand. “When you showed up at seventeen, you were so angry and determined. You refused to let Liz continue to ignore your existence, and impressively, you’d survived your father and come out as your own person. And no matter what your mother threw at you, no matter how she refused to see past her own mistakes, you stayed stubbornly loyal. I admired that and I wanted it for myself.”

She stared at him. “But you were such an ass.”

“It was dangerous, to let either Esther or Liz see the truth of my want, love.” His voice lowered, tinged with what might have been regret. “Not until I could assure your safety. That Esther was killed, and Liz had offered me what I already wanted so carelessly, well that played right into my hands.” Klaus’ lips curved. “You were just as mad at me during our wedding as you were the day you met your mother.”

She scoffed and pulled her hand free. “You were lucky I didn’t put poison ivy in my bouquet and hit you with it.”

His smile was wide and full of wicked amusement. “I know.”

Caroline curled her fingers tightly together to keep from reaching for him, every part of her wanting what he was offering. She’d long since accepted the world she lived in, a world she’d chosen for herself. That this man was the worst of them mattered less than the fact that she knew if he picked her, he’d hold to that choice with all that he was and he’d fight for her. He too, was teeth stubbornly loyal. She’d seen that in him this last year, as they lived as strangers in the same bed.

She wanted that sense of belonging. She wanted it so desperately. But still… “You want this to be real?”

Carefully, as if he was afraid to spook her, Klaus tucked a frizzy curl behind her ear. His voice was low, fingertips careful against her jaw. “I do.”

Lifting her chin, Caroline forced herself to meet him with the same kind of rough honestly he was giving her. Klaus was offering her everything she hadn’t quite dared to hope for but she needed to be sure. “Do you know what your asking of me? What I’ll ask of you? The kind of relationship I want is selfish, Klaus. I want someone who will pick me, who will always pick me. I won’t be my mother, to put a business over my own personal needs, no matter what that business is or who it is with.”

Klaus’ eyes glimmered as he lowered his head, words a mere rumble of sound. “And would you offer the same kind of devotion in return, Caroline?”

She swallowed. She would. For this man, she thought she would. “Yes.”

His eyes flared hot, and he pressed closer still, something achingly greedy about the set of his mouth. “Good. Because I would have gut any man you looked at even if you’d decided you wanted out.”

Her jaw dropped as she stared at the utter seriousness of his face. “Klaus…”

“Caroline,” he returned, smile curling slightly higher on one side of his mouth at her expression. “I saw your face every time Aurora tried to flirt with me since I’ve worn your ring. I’m not the only one who who has a possessive side, love. If you're squeamish committing violence against someone for what you consider improper behavior, that’s alright. I’m not.”

Licking her lips, she finally gave into her need to touch him again. Lifting her hand, she skimmed the perfect circle of his wedding ring before pressing her palm against his chest. The beating of his heart was a little quick, and she was relieved she wasn’t the only one affected in such a way. Her heart felt like a rabbits, thudding in her chest. “Most people would freak out about that.”

Klaus’ hand lifted to cover hers. “Will you?”

“No,” Caroline said honestly. The only reason she hadn’t said something every time Aurora had started simpering was because she’d assumed her marriage was fake. What claim has she had a right to defend? “Dad made sure of that.”

His fingers tightened against hers and something cold entered his gaze. “Did he?”

She rolled her eyes. “He is dead, and I killed him. Remember that.”

“Is that a warning?”

It was the hint of mischief in his voice, the glint in his eye that invited her to play, that washed away the last of her reservations. It gave her hope that they could build something sturdy on the blood and stone of their foundation. Holding her carefully straight face, she slipped her free hand behind his neck and ran her nails down the fine hairs at his nape. He shivered against her and she finally smiled at him. “Absolutely. I think you’ll find Esther was a lot more forgiving than I am.”

His hand curved along her hip, dragging her closer to the heat of him. “I don’t want your forgiveness, Caroline. I want all of you. You’re not the only one who wishes to be chosen first and above all things. Pick me, and I will return your loyalty tenfold.”

She started at him in confusion, brows furrowing. “Didn’t you just spent the last few minutes trying to tell me you somehow wrangled us into an actual marriage?”

The hand against hers pressed firmly, his gaze careful. “You said earlier you felt like you did not have a choice in our marriage. If you want out…” Klaus paused, jaw working for a moment before continuing. “If this is something you don’t want, if you’d prefer to start over somewhere else… Elijah has agreed to see to your relocation.”

Her breath caught at that annoyed admittance, the stiffness of his body against hers. Elijah, would see her... she wondered if he didn’t trust himself to let her go. Amusement and exasperation fought with each other as she realized he’d waited to admit to this until after he’d gotten her to tell him what she wanted from him. He’d waited for her to admit to what she’d been willing to commit to.

Bloody, sneaky assassin.

She supposed didn’t matter. She’d already faced these questions and these doubts, and figured out what she wanted. And now he’d told her he wanted her too.

He could make it up to her for the sneaking.

“Do you remember when we were dancing at the extremely pretentious art gallery and drank way to much champagne a few weeks ago?” She asked, smiling at the confusion on his face at the sudden switch topics, watched as he visibly worked through her question.

“I remember.”

The slight roughness to his voice told her exactly what he was remembering. It had been a fantastic dress, and Klaus had always been a terrific dance partner. It had been one of the truly date-like activities they’d done. It had also made it a lot harder to ignore her feelings for him after spending more of the evening watching his mouth and wondering.

“I spent most of the night wishing you’d kiss me.” She shook her head half exasperated with herself. “I hadn’t realized you were waiting on me to make a move.”

“And now?” He asked, eyes dark with the same hunger she felt. “You need to be sure.”

Caroline untangled her hand from his to trace the full curve of his lower lip. “I realized yesterday that I could run, Klaus. That I could get out. Become someone new and different and probably die of boredom in six months, tops. Enzo wanted to be in Mexico City by now but I…”

He didn’t move a muscle, his gaze holding hers and he mostly patiently waited for her to finish her sentence. Toes curling into the cool linoleum, she felt the flush working up her throat.

“Caroline.”

She blew out a breath. “I really wanted you walk through that door.”

“Did you?”

Caroline cracked a smile at the first real hint of arrogance in his voice, the growing gleam behind his eyes. Her smile widened and she sputtered out a laugh as he cupped her hips with both hands and crowded closer, until the heat of him was flush against her from her hips to chest. Until it was clear that she wasn’t the only one affected by the need running under her skin.

“I really did.” She forced herself to hold his gaze so he would know she was serious. “I want to be here, with you. I’m sure.”

“Good.” Klaus’ hand curved along line of her jaw, the arrogance mingling with triumph in his eyes. A hint of that private amusement of his. “Then I should probably admit I didn’t burn the marriage certificate. I have it. It’s quite safe. And I might have been prepared to file it in whatever country you relocated to if necessary.��

“Klaus Mikaelson,” she started, voice rising with outrage and restrained laughter. He didn’t let her finish, his head dipping and mouth brushing lightly across hers. She didn’t given him a chance to pull back, rising up on her toes to deepen the contact, fingers delving through his hair as she had her first real taste of him, need and arousal heady in her veins.

Whatever restraint had kept him from touching her all those months seemed to have disappeared and his hand slid to her ass, hauling her closer still as he tongue found hers. Caroline didn’t mind at all, nails digging in as the finally pulled back for air, her pulse loud in her ears. Sucking in a breath, she tried to calculate how much time they had.

“You said the plane leaves in two days?” That was probably enough time. Maybe. They could make it work, if the plane had a bed.

“Hmm,” he agreed, gaze firmly locked on her mouth. “Yes.”

Unable to help herself now that she could, Caroline leaned back in to nip at his full lower lip, sliding her tongue across the sting with a pleased little hum. “Then take me to bed. I refuse to have sex with you in the kitchen. At least for the first round.”

A shudder wracked Klaus’ frame, and his fingers dug into the curve of her ass. For a long moment he stood there, breathing hard before his hands slid to her thighs and he urged her up. Letting him catch her as she jumped, Caroline hooked her thighs over his hips, shivering as she rubbed firmly against him with that motion. It was a strain not to rock against him, to chase that perfect angle, but she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to make it out of the kitchen if she did.

The hard angle of Klaus’ jaw, the jump of a muscle in his cheek as his lashes fluttered, told her wasn’t much better off. Breathing deeply, she leaned forward and bit lightly at his jaw. “The bed, Klaus.”

His exhale was harsh as he finally started walking. “Like to use your teeth, love?”

She nipped at his throat. She might have fantasized once or twice about leaving a mark somewhere someone like Aurora would be unable to miss. “What if I do?”

The bedroom was dark, the bedding rumpled from her earlier attempt at sleeping. He dragged the covers to the end of the bed before bending over and setting her on it. “Oh, I don’t mind. But fair warning, I do plan on returning the favor.” He encouraged her to loosen her grip and his eyes were dark in the low light. His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb feathering across her cheek. “Parts of you are quite delectable.”

She caught his hand, kissed his palm. “Only parts of me?”

A hint of a roguish smile, and he leaned over, flicking on her bed lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow. “I’ll have formed a much more informed opinion in the morning. To start, I’m going to have to insist that you take off that robe.”

Laughing, she pushed him away. “Yeah? Then how about you take off your shirt.”

“Gladly,” he said easily, reaching behind him to tug the soft fabric over his head. She caught her lip with her teeth at the play of muscles, the smooth expanse of skin she’d been quietly ogling for ages. The tangle of necklaces that rested just above the gold of his ring. When he dropped the shirt to the floor, both brows arched, she sighed and pushed to her feet. It didn’t take long to shuck the robe, but when she reached for the ends of the shirt, he stopped her, fingers curling lightly around her wrist.

“Mine?”

It was hard to feel embarrassed when his voice rumbled with such possession, but her cheeks turned pink anyway. “It’s soft.”

“Such a pretty liar,” he murmured, ignoring her indignant response. Stepping close, he lowered his head and kissed her firmly, pulling back just as her hands smoothed along his skin. “You wanted the bed, Caroline. Back you go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “We both have to many clothes on.”

“Oh, we’ll get to that,” Klaus agreed. “But I quite like the sight of you in my shirt, and I think it will stay for now.”

Heat spread beneath her skin, pooled low in her stomach. “And what do I get if I agree, huh?”

“Onto the bed, Caroline, and I’ll lick between your gorgeous legs until you scream for me, hmm?”

Yeah, she wasn’t going to argue against that. Stil… “I get to be on top next round. I want to touch too.”

His gaze burned. “Agreed.”

Well then. Twisting around, she crawled to the messy pillows and situated herself as comfortably as she could, anticipation fluttering in her stomach. When Klaus joined her on the bed, he’d shucked his socks and shoes, leaving him clad in only the black pants that did wonderful things for his ass. “Comfortable?”

Caroline wiggled back against her pillows. “Very. Come here and kiss me.”

He smiled and obliged, the heat of his mouth coaxing now instead of devouring. She curled her fingers into the necklaces around his neck and kissed until her lungs were tight, body burning with the fever he stroked in her so easily. Klaus wasn’t content with just her mouth, one hand curving over her breast to find her nipple, the other holding his weight as she arched beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Nudging her cheek with his nose, he smiled against her skin. “I believe I have a promise to keep.”

But instead of sliding down her body, he tugged her borrow shirt up slowly. Caroline frowned a little as he bunched the fabric beneath her breasts. He paused as he got a good look at her pale pink boy shorts, a low, thoughtful pleased rumbling in his throat. When his gaze dragged back up her body to her face, she shivered at the expression there.

“So I’ve never had someone hide my boobs during sex before,” she teased in an attempt to keep from dragging him down and demanding he take off his pants.

Klaus snorted and shifted forward to press his lips to the base of her throat, his response just as light. “And while I’m sure your breasts are perfect, Caroline, I don’t want to risk being distracted. I’ll show them proper appreciation later. With as much detail as you’d like.”

Biting her lip to stop her smile, she smoothed her hand down his chest, and paused by his ring dangling between them. Catching the skin warmed metal, she studied it in the light. She was surprised at how possessive such a simple thing could make her, this ring. Above her, Klaus went still, his hands braced on either side of her hips.

“I picked this out you know?” Caroline glanced at him from under her lashes. His kiss swollen, biteable lips and ruffled curls. All hers. “I’d decided if I was going to be married to someone, fake or not, I wasn’t going to be looking at something hideous or ridiculously fussy.”

His tongue dragged across his lips, eyes dark. “How romantic.”

She laughed, and let the ring go, more interested in what he planned than continuing to tease him. Klaus bent and kissed her stomach before tilting his head to briefly run his scruff along his jaw against her skin. She shivered at the sensations, body achingly aware of his, skin tight and hot with anticipation.

“I have another ring for you too,” Klaus murmured as he ran his lips down her abdomen, tongue a slow stroke across her skin. “To go with your band. I kept it, since at first I suspected you were more likely to flush it down the toilet than wear it.”

She moaned at the scrap of his teeth as he moved lower still, thumbs skimming along her thighs, an area she’d long noticed his fascination with. Flushing a ring was definitely something she’d have considered doing. However. “I’d never do that to good jewelry.”

A laughing glance so hotly aroused she shuddered with it. “I’ll remember that.”

The edge of his tongue pressed briefly against her through the damp cotton of her panties, and she stopped caring about anything but the heat of him between her thighs. He settled onto his elbows, fingers skimming lightly along where the fabric had grown wet and slightly translucent.

“Have you thought about this, love?” Klaus asked softly, voice growing rough with arousal. “Because I have.”

She nodded, thighs twitching at each delicate brush of his fingertips. “Yes.”

A thoughtful noise, a little more pressure on his next careful stroke. She squirmed a little, needing more, but still enjoying the tease. For now. Klaus’ mouth quirked at the move and his eyes lowered. “Tell me.”

Caroline stared at him in surprise. “You want to know about my fantasies now?”

Klaus hummed his agreement. “Fantasies, kinks, what you think about when you touch yourself to get off that you might not want to try. All your dirty thoughts. Everything.”

She wasn’t entirely adverse to the idea of sharing, the thought of listening to Klaus do the same was a good one. Particularly if he was willing to do it while they were in fairly compromising positions. Blowing out a slow breath, Caroline finally nodded. “Okay. We can work up to it.”

His gaze flickered to hers, and stayed there as his head lowered. His breath was warm, even through the cotton. “Perhaps some incentive, then.” His tongue followed the delicate patterns his fingers had already brushed against her, and Caroline pressed a hand against the headboard, the other fisting in her pillow. The friction was good but not want she wanted.

“Why am I still wearing underwear?” She managed between clenched teeth, hips rocking against the pressure of his mouth. She choked on his name when he sucked on her clit, and he pulled back with a pleased little hum, tongue running over his lips.

“You’re the one who wanted an equal exchange of clothes,” he pointed out with a shrug, the careful restraint on his face tight behind the arousal. The line of his spine was tense, the cords of his neck standing in relief. “If my pants come off, I’m not sure I’ll resist sliding inside you and this round will be much shorter than I intend to let happen.”

Caroline thought she’d be okay with that just then, but the expression behind his eyes told her he wouldn’t budge. Taking a deep, centering breath, she shook her head. “I’d be willing to be make an exception. This once.”

She tugged on the elastic of her underwear to prove her point. A lascivious curl of Klaus’ lips had her stomach tightening. “How benevolent of you.”

She spluttered, but held her tongue when he reached for the elastic band. Pulling her knees up, she wiggled around to help him remove the offending fabric. But when she went to straighten her legs, he shook his head and smoothed his hands down her thighs. “Stay just like this.”

Pursing her lips, Caroline considered the position and wiggled into a slightly better angle. He urged her thighs a little wider, leaving her open and bare to his gaze. “Okay?”

“Yes,” she said after a moment. “But why…”

Her words died in a gasp as his lowered for a second time, his tongue broad and wet and perfect against her clit. Moaning as he repeated the motion, she groped for his hair with the hand not pressed against the headboard. Klaus didn’t seem to mind, his little noise of pleasure as she tugged at his curls doing wonderful things against her sensitive flesh.

He alternated between broad, slow strokes and careful circles with his tongue until she was sweating, the hard points of her nipples visible beneath the thin fabric of her borrowed shirt. She swore at him when he shifted his mouth to her thigh, biting down lightly before sucking strongly at the sting.

“Klaus!”

His head turned to face her, and he ran his stumble across her skin for good measure. “I promised you screaming, didn’t I?”

She shifted restlessly against the hold of hands, voice a touch breathless. “An orgasm might help with that.”

Klaus made a considering noise, and his exhale was hot against her aching skin. “I see your point of course, but I also find I quite like you like this: flushed pink and thinking only of what I’m giving you with my mouth.”

She groaned, tugging firmly at his hair. “How can you not want to be inside me right now?”

His laugh was ragged and he kissed her neglected thigh. “I assure you, my cock aches, sweetheart. It has for months. All those mornings with these legs and your body pressed against me, all sleep warm? But what is a bit longer when I can have you just like this, wanting me so badly, and your taste on my tongue?” To accentuate his point, Klaus licked up her slit with a slow, lingering slide and she whined in complaint as he barely brushed her clit. Instead, his lips brushed delicately across the aching bud as he spoke. “But perhaps you’d be willing to play with your nipples for me. As incentive.”

Struggling to keep her eyes open as he held her hips still, she stared down at him. “I thought you were going to play with my boobs.”

A hint of a smile. “Think of how much better it will be once I know what you like.”

Swearing at him, Caroline untangled her fingers from his hair and skimmed it up her sweaty skin. Eyes hot with challenge, she pinched her nipple firmly through the shirt, muscles flexing against his hold as she played with her aching breast. Tilting his head, he blew across her clit before nudging her lightly with his nose. “Both hands.”

“So demanding,” she ground out. Not looking away from his gaze, Caroline pushed her shaking fingers underneath the rumpled shirt wanting skin, uncaring as the fabric fell back down her abdomen. Spine arching as she cupped her breasts, she let out a low whine as she rubbed the hard points of her nipples against her palms.

“I’ll make it worth it,” he rasped as he watched her move underneath his shirt. A moment later and he took her clit between his lips and sucked hard. The noise she made was half-wild, thighs straining against his hold. But it was the lash of his tongue, raspy and hot, the had her spine bowing. Her fingers moved heavily against her breasts, desperate for just a little more stimulation, just a touch more friction to tip her over the edge.

But every time she neared that elusive edge, Klaus pulled back just a touch, until her thighs were shaking and she was slick with strain. Her cries had grown hoarse, and Caroline wasn’t quite certain what she was saying anymore, her words incoherent and rising in each pitch at each pass of his tongue.

It was the unexpected thrust of his fingers, thumb firm and rough against her sent her reeling as his teeth pressed into her thigh with a sharp little sting. He kept her there, working her through the aftershocks until she moaned, body too sensitive for the stimulation. Half-dazed and limp, she stared up at the ceiling as he pulled his hand free and slowly kissed a path up her stomach.

“We have neighbors,” she managed finally, the thought occurring to her as she realized just how loud she’d gotten. “They’re going to hate us.”

He made a low noise of amusement and lightly kissed her nipples through his shirt before tugging at the hem. “We won’t be here long enough for it to matter. Let’s get you out of this, hmmm?”

Deciding he was right, Caroline let him help her sit up and peel the shirt away from her flushed skin. One hand immediately went to her breasts, his calloused fingers clever and she gripped his shoulders with clumsy hands. He took that as an offer to caress both breasts and she gasped against his throat.

“You’re still wearing pants.” She dug her nails in a little, just to feel him shudder. “Equal exchange, remember? And I’m naked.”

Klaus slid one hand to the middle of her back back and moved to lick across her collarbones. “I have noticed, love.”

“Klaus, seriously, take your pants off.” She demanded on a gasp as he thumbed her nipple, arching into the caress even as she complained. “I want to come again and I want you inside me when I do.”

He muttered some explicit against her skin and pulled back, steadying her with unsteady hands before he got off the bed. His movements were rough, and he didn’t bother to strip, yanking down his pants and whatever he’d worn beneath in one movement. Caroline bit down hard on her lip at the sight of him as he stood utterly naked before her. He didn’t give her long to oogle, rejoins her and tumbling her back onto the pillows.

Her giggle at his eagerness died when he moved to suck on her breast, tongue a slick glide against her skin, his free hand palming her. Caroline slid her hands along his shoulders, greedily feeling the heat of him that had driven her so crazy when she’d been unable to touch freely. She dug her fingertips in along his spine, the heavy muscle of his back taut beneath her searching fingers.

“Condom?” The word was half growl, and she shook her head on an inhale as his teeth pressed against her nipple, shuddering as he tugged carefully.

“Implant. I’m clean.” Her sexual partners had always been sporadic, both as a necessity and from choice. And then wearing another man’s ring had put a serious cramp on any sexual adventures, and the required monthly checkups kept everyone familiar with their health.

Klaus moved to study her face as he settled a little more firmly between her thighs, lashes fluttering as she rubbed against the thickness of his cock with a pleased sigh. “My last test was two days ago. I haven’t shared my bed with anyone in months.”

It did something funny to her insides knowing that she hadn’t suffered alone. Hooking one thigh over his hip, Caroline arched into the firm line of his body, hands urging him closer. “Good. You can tell me all the ways you thought of me while you touched yourself. Later.”

Klaus surge the few inches between them and caught her mouth with his, the kiss a little messy in all the best ways. She caught his lip between her teeth when he tilted her hips and thrust those first few inches inside her. Their moans mingled as he pressed firmly inside her, and she hopped her shoulders tightly as she adjusted to the feel of him. Klaus pressed his mouth to her throat, kisses a touch frantic as she wound both legs tightly around his hips.

“God,” she rasped. “Move.”

As good as his mouth had been, this was better.

Caroline forgot to care about their neighbors after the first the rough snap of his hips. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that full before, and his cock dragged along all the best places inside her as they moved. Her nails raked his back, the high pitched sound of her cried mingling with his rougher, softer noises as they both greedily chased their peak.

Then Klaus pressed his lips near her ear and and took her at her early word. He rumbled all filthy things he’d thought of while gripping his cock, urged on by how tightly she squeezed him with her thighs. The way she looked, how much better she’d tasted than he’d imagined, all the ways he’d wanted to slid his fingers under the hem of pretty sundresses she’d worn that summer until she’d come all slick and warm over his fingers. Preferably somewhere semi-public. His words left her burning up, so unbearably aroused she thought she would implode.

Caroline could only cling to him, his words and body driving her towards a faster, higher peak than before. She met his thrusts with the push of her body, breasts rubbing against his chest as she managed to say his name, voice hoarse and desperate. He got her there when he slipped a hand between them, and her body bowed at into his at the pinch of his fingers as she sobbed for air. Klaus groaned into her throat, the rhythm of his hips roughing until his body locked against her, his stubble rough against her shoulder as he trembled against her.

A long moment later, and her body finally relaxed against his but it wasn’t until their breathing evened out that Klaus moved to reach for the tissue box on the nightstand. A quick clean up later, and Caroline found herself half-sprawled across his chest, his hands in her hair.

Ideally tracing the tattoo she’d wanted to trace for months, Caroline’s eyes grew heavy as the last two days caught back up with her. Letting out a little sigh, she let her eyes flutter shut.

“Was that a yes to Prague, sweetheart?”

Lips curling, she pressed her palm flat against his heartbeat. It was a pretty damn solid yes. The chance to build something that she could call her own and to do it with Klaus? “If I say yes, can we fool around in the shower before you cook me breakfast?”

His fingers grazed down her nape, and she shivered. “We can have sex in the shower if you’d like.”

“Dangerous,” she mumbled, snuggling a hair closer. What she had in mind would definitely get them dirtier before they cleaned up, but she made a drowsy mental note to look into sex proofing the shower of wherever they ended up. Besides, there were other advantages to the apartment that could be safer, and still scandalously fun. “The kitchen table looked pretty sturdy though.”

His laughter was soft enough it barely shook her, pressed as closely as she was and his hand smoothed her hair. “Nap, love. You’ll need the rest.”

He was right. They’d both need their rest. They’d only have the next forty-eight hours, give or take a few, to themselves and Caroline planned on wringing out every opportunity to enjoy it with him. She’d go with him to Prague, they’d rebuild their lives, and one day, when she let him take her somewhere fancy to dinner or even at home, tired and content and just them, she’d tell him that she loved him.