Hey! So, this is one I've had stuck in a folder for literally a year, four pages away from being done. Recently I opened it up again and realised I should probably finish it up lol. So I slowly wrote and edited and now it's finally finished.

It's not really too big of a deal, just one day in their lives, but I really hope you'll enjoy :)

Post 5x11, no TO BS whatsoever.

The butler answers the door.

She smiles, as brightly as she can.

"Hi, is Klaus here?"

He shakes his head. "Unfortunately not, miss. However, he should return shortly."

"Ok, I'll just come back then."

She turns around and has descended a step when he calls out, a strange tone to his voice.

"What's your name?"

She turns back with a furrowed brow. "Caroline. Caroline Forbes."

A huge grin spreads over his face, making him look ten years younger.

"I knew it. Come in – please!"

Surprised by his enthusiastic change in attitude, Caroline cautiously approaches then passes him into the huge Mikaelson mansion.

She looks around wondrously because somehow it's managed to be both bigger than it looks from the outside and bigger than the one he'd had in Mystic Falls.

"May I get you anything? Tea, coffee, blood?"

She almost jumps. It makes total sense for Klaus to have his staff compelled to think vampirism is no big deal and she herself has done a lot of compulsion to get her way over the years, but it still surprises her a little.

Never mind the fact that he somehow knows she's a vampire.

"Uh… no, no thanks." She hesitates. "How did you know who I was?"

He laughs lightly. "I'd like to say I'm simply that intuitive but really you just matched the description perfectly."

Caroline frowns. "The description? What description?"

"'The most magnificent blonde you've ever seen with a radiant smile the likes of which you'll never see again'," he recites.

She hesitates for a moment, taken aback. "He really said that?"

"That exactly, yes. I remember expressly because it was followed by several threats of bodily harm if anyone forgot and allowed you to slip by."

Her smile widens as she nods in recognition. That sounds like Klaus.

The butler sighs. "I have to leave shortly, but please feel free to make yourself as comfortable as possible. The service shouldn't be much longer."

Caroline nods slowly, feeling equal parts dread and excitement.

She sits on the sofa and thinks.

It's been a long time. The girl he knew back then is the one sitting on his sofa but she's had so many more experiences, seen so many places and had too many loves. She's had more than her fair share of jobs and flings and dangerous experiences.

But there's also the dark side. She's killed more. She's drank from and turned humans; drank copious amounts of alcohol just to see how much she could take before she was well and truly slammed. Sometimes she'd combined the two, getting someone else drunk before slitting her fangs into their carotid.

She'd compelled herself things, usually just enough to get herself set up. Like where she's living now, in a beautiful penthouse furnished well enough to make her smile when she gets home after a day of shenanigans. No two of her days are the same.

It's painful, in a way, to be here. She hasn't seen any of her old friends in years and for good reason. They remind her of the past.

And the Caroline from a decade ago isn't easy to think about. Especially in relation to Klaus. She doesn't like thinking that he hadn't been wrong, all the time. That she'd just needed to live a while longer as a vampire to understand what he'd been trying to tell her back then.

The idea of hearing You should really just have taken my word for it, love was enough to keep her away from him forever, she thought. Well, it was what she thought on days when she could convince herself that she'd be able to stay away from him forever, anyway.

But today was different; there wouldn't be any 'I told you so's.

She feels bad about not attending the service but she'd consciously made the decision not to. She has two reasons, the first being that she'd never known Elijah that well. She'd always heard good things about the eldest Original from Elena but she'd never personally had the pleasure of knowing him.

She wonders at the condition Klaus will be in.

If there was something she was truly good at and immensely proud of, it was knowing Klaus. Not like the way she could tell within two seconds of walking into a store whether it would yield credit card-worthy items wasn't impressive. Not that she wasn't proud of how many consecutive hurkeys she could do. It was just that it was the only talent she had that was both impressive and exclusive. She understood Klaus Mikaelson and she was freaking proud of it.

And the thing was, despite what many thought – something he was more than satisfied with them thinking, she was sure – Klaus loved. A distinct few, but he did love.

And no matter how badly he treated them or how sarcastically he spoke to them, Klaus loved his family. She knew that.

And now he'd lost his older brother.

Mentally she's trying to prepare herself for whatever may walk in through that door – if it even did. Honestly she won't be surprised if she finds out he left the service and went howling at the moon. Murderous is the mood she expects but the one she is least prepared to handle.

She's pondering this when the butler enters again and clears his throat.

"I'll be leaving now. I called to check with the church and they informed me that the service ended not too long ago."

She smiles gratefully. "Thank you."

He nods in acknowledgement and makes to turn around and leave but hesitates, turning back to her.

"Miss Forbes?"

She looks up.

"Thank you for coming. We've been waiting a long time."

Klaus walks in looking tired.

She's stepped into the foyer after having heard him ascend the porch and waits quietly for him to notice her.

Her eyes roam over his form as the lowering sun's rays stream in behind him. She expects to see a creased jacket and an undone tie but his tie is perfectly done; his shirt bleached and starched at this throat.

Channelling Elijah, she thinks.

He stops dead in his tracks when he notices her – which takes a while, a warning sign in itself – and for a few seconds surprise takes over the exhaustion in his eyes.

"Hey," she says, softly.

"Caroline," he says, equally as softly. He smiles. "Ten years."

"You never did guess a decade."

The corners of his eyes wrinkle; he shakes his head. "You always did enjoy proving me wrong."

She tries for a smile too but it falters, and she sighs heavily.

"Klaus, I'm sorry."

He winces and ducks his head, nodding reluctantly.

He looks up again to peruse her. She feels naked before him for a second then remembers that she's wearing a black dress.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to the service – "

She wants to explain that she didn't want to upset Rebekah – that's her second reason – but he waves away her apology.

"I was barely at the service."

She watches him closely; watches him swallow with difficulty and struggle to keep eye contact.

She knows what he means without having to ask because there behind the exhaustion is something else – emptiness.

"Are you here?"

He smirks at her question, but it's a shadow of the one she's always associated with him.

"Just about."

He steps closer and holds out a hand to gesture.

"You look lovely, as always. Are you well?"

More Elijah. His politeness this time.

She shakes her head. "I don't want to talk about me."

Something flashes in his eyes and deep within her she hopes it's You know me too well; don't push – this is too much, it hurts.

"Where's Rebekah?" she asks, looking around.

"Not here – she doesn't want to see my face." He sighs. "She blames me."

She wants to ask what happened, how it all went wrong, but the last thing she wants to do right now is make him re-live it.

He's bent and near broken and she's here to fix it but for the moment she's not sure she knows how. She thinks she might have bitten off a bit more than she can chew.

"I can leave, if you want to be alone."

His jaw clenches. She's used to seeing that before he explodes; a sign of anger. Now she has the sneaky suspicion that he's holding something back. Tears?

"I'd rather you didn't."

She nods and looks around. "Ok… what do you wanna do?"

He shrugs. "Anything to take my mind off it."

Her breath catches at his honesty. She's certain that's not the response anybody else would have received.

Her eyes search him then the house. They land on the television set in the lounge before returning to Klaus.

She steps forward, her hands reaching out. Klaus comes close to flinching when her fingers feather over his tie. She undoes it and pulls it up over his head before undoing his top button. She stills before him and he leans down, laying his forehead on hers.

His breath wafts over her face and she breathes it in; his hypnotic scent.

They spend the longest while just standing there, her hands grasping his tie as his body slowly un-stiffens, relaxing against her.

Eventually she takes a full breath; steps back a little.

"Wanna watch some bad TV?"

She watches him locate the correct remote controls – he takes a while, which is either another sign or it's because he doesn't watch TV that often – and then he drops down on the sofa she's on.

But he's too far and if there were a way for that to work then she would let it be but today there is no space for distance.

So she scoots over until they're practically jammed together but she can't gauge Klaus' reaction because he's hunched over, fiddling with the remotes. Finally he hands her one when the television's flickered to life and she flips channels until she finds one with makeover show re-runs.

With a tiny almost indistinguishable sigh Klaus sits backwards, sliding down to relax into the couch. She's nervous but after a few minutes of debating with herself, Caroline lifts her arm and places it around his shoulders.

Klaus shoots her a look of uncertainty but her eyes are determined enough for him to feel comfortable enough laying his head on her.

She lays her head on his, and together they watch bad TV.

Caroline sets the tray down on the coffee table.

She gives it a once-over to make sure nothing is missing – noting the cutlery, two plates and bottle of wine with glasses – and when satisfied she spins to face a sleeping Klaus. She'd replaced her shoulder with a cushion and the Original Hybrid is all but snoring.

Caroline smiles and leans her knee down on the sofa then bends forward. Again she debates with herself but the irrational side of her somehow wins out and before she knows it her lips are on his.

She feels it the second he begins to wake – his lips start moving against hers before they form into a smirk and his eyes open.

She pulls away to catch him looking at her like the sun is shining from her eyes and she blushes, biting her lip shyly.

"Are you hungry?"

He takes a moment to wake himself up completely, swallowing, before he nods.

"If I get to eat whatever it is that that smell is emanating from."

She turns, allowing her hair to shield her bashful smile and reaches out to the tray to retrieve a plate. She passes it to him and Klaus' eyes widen.

"You made this?"

She rolls her eyes at his implied questioning of her abilities.

"I can cook. I haven't spent the last ten years twiddling my thumbs, you know."

She passes him a fork too before grabbing up her own plate. It's not really a big deal – chicken lasagne and some salad – but Klaus is still looking at her like maybe he's still asleep and this is all a dream.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I was bored and hungry, what else was I supposed to do?"

Klaus rubs a hand over his eyes then through his hair. "I'm sorry for falling asleep. I could have called the cook."

"Don't apologise," she shakes her head. Then she looks at him solidly. "I'm guessing you haven't slept in a while?"

Pointedly Klaus looks at the food she's cooked, wincing. "I was out for a long time, wasn't I?"

"I made the pasta from scratch," she laughs a little, nodding.

Klaus looks lightly ashamed but digs into the food hungrily. They both eat in silence for a few minutes before Klaus takes a long breath.

"Why are you here, Caroline?"

She's taken aback at first – what other reason could there possibly be for her presence?

Then she realises.

"I'm here for you, Klaus. I don't need your help or your blood or your expertise or anything else, I promise. I just wanted to be here for you," she replies honestly.

It's been too long; lies and half-truths are below them.

He stares at her some more before ducking, looking back down at his plate.

"How did you find out?"

"Stefan."

He nods. "You didn't have to come. I'm sure you have more important things happening in your life."

She nods too. "I have a life in which things happen. But today nothing's more important than you."

His head snaps up, and his eyes search hers desperately. She isn't sure whether he's looking for a trick or waiting for a punchline, but eventually neither comes and he frowns.

"Apologies, love, I suppose I'm just not accustomed to having a true ally." He shakes his head disgustedly. "It's all only manipulation and appearances; each out for his own."

"I thought you liked that kind of thing."

He rubs his brow, pained. "I did two days ago."

She wants to tell him again how sorry she is but he doesn't want her pity, she knows that.

"Well I'm not your ally," she says instead, and he frowns again. "I'm your friend."

He smiles a little and she mirrors it – for a minute they just smile at each other and it's enough. For a minute it feels like no time has passed at all; like they're back at the Christmas party and he's taunting her about Dickens.

She wonders how long it has actually been since someone was on his side just because of who he is, not because of what he can grant them – a friend instead of an ally. Rebekah avoids him precisely because of who he is, but the Mikaelson sibling dynamic is one Caroline doesn't plan on ever understanding.

"Good vintage?" she asks eventually, for something to say, gesturing with her head in the direction of the tray.

Klaus spares the wine the quickest of glances, smirking. "All my vintages are good."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, how silly of me."

"Sarcasm isn't becoming on you, love."

She's preparing a scathing reply but he cuts her off.

"This is fantastic, by the way."

She'd given him a huge portion but he's almost finished it and he's even called her love so she guesses the food is helping somehow.

"Thank you."

From the corner of her eye she watches him bring the fork back up to his mouth but it stops halfway as a curious smirk appears on his lips. She turns her head questioningly and his eyes smile at her.

"You kissed me."

Immediately she ducks her head; avoids a blush.

"I figured it was the least… invasive way of waking you."

Klaus chuckles. "Considering there was no tongue, I'm inclined to agree."

She gives him a playful shove. "Shut up and eat your food."

He laughs lightly and she only shakes her head as she reaches for the remote to allow the TV volume again. It's some makeover show involving surgery and they watch as they eat, Caroline becoming invested in the middle-aged redhead who describes the changes she wants made to her body.

"I don't understand, why does she want liposuction?" Klaus suddenly asks from beside her, with a genuinely confused expression.

Caroline opens her mouth to answer but Klaus' fork clangs on his plate as he drops it in frustration.

"Quite frankly I don't understand the concept of this entire inane show!"

Caroline hides a tiny smile. "She thinks she's fat."

"Her body is beautiful; society is ridiculous," Klaus shakes his head disgustedly before resuming eating.

"Wanna watch something else?"

"Please," he says off-handedly, placing what is just about the last of his food into his mouth.

Caroline switches to the Housewives of somewhere or other and digs back into her food as Klaus sets his empty plate down.

They watch for a while as she finishes her food and she bites back a smile when she hears Klaus mutter under his breath about how insane the women are.

She's glad his thoughts are being diverted, even if it is to something that's irritating him.

She puts her plate on the coffee table with a frown. It's not the best lasagne she's ever made and that annoys her. On the one hand she'd been working in a new kitchen so everything had been a little strange but on the other she'd just served it to Klaus, who had probably eaten at the best restaurants in Italy.

Feeling the need to confirm that he'd actually liked it, Caroline picks up the remote and mutes the TV before turning to Klaus pointedly.

"Did you really like it?"

"Yes," he assures her.

She sighs in dissatisfaction, sitting backward and facing him with a pout.

He smiles, knowing it's his duty to make her feel better.

"Caroline, it was truly delicious."

He shoots her a look and it's so telling that she feels her breathing begin to speed up. He leans in and she watches his full pink lips intently as they near her inch by inch.

A second before his mouth touches her she sucks in a breath, but his lips never actually reach hers. At the last second they feather over her cheek then his head ducks into her shoulder.

She lets out the breath quickly, wanting to slap herself for forgetting. Klaus causing her to forget about everything else is nothing new but she's supposed to be here for him, not the other way around.

Immediately she manoeuvres herself into making a shell of her body, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she keeps him rooted to her with a hand in his hair.

"Klaus, I'm here for you," she reminds him softly. "I'm here, just… let it out."

It takes a few seconds but he begins trembling against her, lightly at first then violently. Still she doesn't feel any tears and she ducks her face into his hair.

"I'm here for you," she whispers.

After a few minutes she feels the top of her dress dampen and she swallows.

This is the most vulnerable he's ever let himself be in front of her; probably the most vulnerable he's let himself be at all in a long time.

So she holds him as tightly and as close as possible as he shudders against her, silent as the front of her dress begins to soak.

She never sees any tears.

When he's done Klaus pulls away from her and turns his head, seemingly collecting himself. She takes the time to readjust her dress and her position on the sofa. From the corner of her eye she notices the Kardashians on.

She has no idea how Klaus does it but he's even pretty sexy after crying. Seriously. When he turns back to her his eyes aren't puffy or even red. The only thing different is that he's the slightest shade of pink, looking thoroughly ashamed.

"Well, that was mortifying."

"I once semi-accidentally killed twelve innocent people in front of you. We'll call it even."

He smiles a little, gratefully, but shakes his head.

"Caroline, I never wanted you to see me that – "

"Hey," she grabs up his hand. "Don't."

He looks down at their hands.

"– weak."

She sighs, hating that he feels that way; wishing that there's a way for her to convey that she hadn't seen it as weak at all. That her respect for him had grown, spurred on by feeling him trust her; freely express that he'd loved his brother.

Squeezing his hand, she brings their interlinked hands over onto her lap, forcing him to look at her.

"Klaus, your brother died – the man you've spent a thousand years trusting and loving and who put his life on the line for you multiple times. And you just let yourself mourn him and everything he meant to you." She takes a breath. "I've never seen you stronger."

Desperately his eyes search hers, but she knows precisely what he finds there: unwavering honesty.

Because she isn't lying. She's seen him decapitate with a mortarboard and a smile on his face and though it's a type strength she respects, she still knows him. She knows how much it must have taken to let himself be that vulnerable, even with her. And not only does she respect that strength so much more, but it also draws something out of her heart that she'd spent a very long time trying to forget.

She re-positions her hand in his, weaving her fingers through his, and it draws his gaze for a moment before his eyes flit back up to hers and she realises her heart is pounding for no good reason.

Or maybe… – it's just, she knows that look.

Not even ten years has let her forget the heat of his skin or the way he laid kisses in the hollow of her shoulder to the sound of her whimpers or the weight of his body over hers or – or the look in his eyes the whole way through.

Adoring lust, she'd once nostalgically termed it.

Before she can think or protest, they're kissing, his lips hot and determined against hers. She tries to remind herself of what she'd forgotten earlier but it's no use – her entire body is heating and she can't stop her hand from curling into his hair, or whimpers from escaping when her lips part and his tongue darts inside.

It's been ten years, she's been with a lot of men.

Enough for her to have forgotten how easily her body responds to this one in particular; how no one else ever got her this hot or flushed in a matter of seconds.

She's so terrified by this sudden realisation that she pushes him away, and his eyes flutter open curiously.

Then she's kissing him again because no matter what, she can't stay away. She's here, after all.

He moans as she nips then sucks on his bottom lip and both of them sink backwards into the couch, him half on top of her as the kiss becomes more and more desperate; wantonly re-acquainting.

She doesn't let herself think about where it's heading, if anywhere. Instead she simply lets herself go, lets him touch her and caress her and kiss her till she's breathless and they're both so so high on each other.

When they finally pull away, breathing deeply, she looks into his eyes and he stares back and she feels as if she should say something but has no idea what.

She's surprised when it's him who speaks, caressing the space behind her ear with a thumb.

"Friends, hmm?"

It takes her a moment but then she giggles, her cheeks heating up.

"Ok… the truth is, I don't know what we are," she admits. "All I know is that when I found out, I knew I needed to be here for you, whether you needed me or not – I physically couldn't stay away, Klaus."

He stares straight back at her and she thinks about how in ten years she still hasn't found a single other person who looks at her the way he does. Not only the adoring lust or that one when it seems as if he's just discovered another galaxy behind her eyes, but even the simplest glance – like this one filled with such intense gratitude.

"Thank you."

She doesn't know what to do with him thanking her, she never has, so she moves to kiss him instead but at the last second he holds her back, and it's against her lips, staring into his eyes that he speaks again.

"And, for the record, there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't need you, Caroline."

And before she can process that he's kissing her again, hard, and she moans before slipping her hands beneath his suit jacket and pushing it off his shoulders then going for the buttons on his shirt.

He's smiling as he starts kissing her neck and she's so hot she can barely bear it so the rest of the buttons pop away loudly as she rips the shirt open. He sits back for the quickest of seconds to get it off and she spreads her legs, so that he's between them when he returns to lay kisses on her shoulder and down her chest.

Her hands coast down his chest appreciatively then move to his belt, undoing it as he finds the zipper beneath her arm.

They don't rush but before she knows it her hair is falling back onto her shoulders as her dress floats to the ground and they're both in their underwear, gazes roaming thankfully over each other's bodies.

She has become used to time not meaning the same as it did when she was human, but when it comes to this it actually feels as if it's been longer than ten years, perhaps because she's looked for him in every man who's touched her after he did.

Her bra is gone quickly and her back arches as he takes her breasts into his mouth; his hands crawl up her legs and onto her thighs, pulling her panties down her knees ever so slowly as she bucks into him, aching.

Then they're both bare and she's so soaking ready for him that she wants to tell him that she can't handle waiting a second longer – but he kisses her, and it's slow and beautiful and passionate.

They don't stop kissing as she settles in his lap, hands caressing his perfect stubble.

They're kissing as she takes him in and her eyes shut as her limbs encircle him once again.

She murmurs pleas of 'Don't stop' against his lips; moans his name around his tongue.

They kiss as his hands on her butt aid her ride of reckless abandon and she's breathless, breathless.

They're still kissing, haphazardly, when it rises unrelenting in her – her body begins shaking and her mouth opens wide against his, teeth grazing lips, as her orgasm rips through her. He's not far behind, jerking but pulling her closer as he comes violently, and they're still kissing when they fall back against the sofa together – a mess of hot, trembling, sated limbs, and puffy lips.

Finally she pulls away, stroking her fingers through his hair before sliding from his chest and going to lay behind him. Klaus turns onto his side and she lopes an arm around his shoulders. He weaves his fingers through hers and begins kissing the top of her hand; her knuckles.

She thinks of the exact moment she found out.

Her first instinct: to drop everything and jump on the first flight out of there; get here as soon as physically possible.

But, instead, she'd politely said goodbye to Stefan with her mind whirring.

She thinks of Keith, her boyfriend she'd broken up with just twenty four hours ago. She can't say there'd been any one thing in particular quite wrong with him but, like she'd told her landlady while compelling her, she had to be able to come here unattached so she could stay for as long as she was needed. So she'd packed her things into boxes and covered her furniture with sheets and now here she is, kissing the Original hybrid's back as his own lips work their way onto her wrist.

She gazes at his expression and it looks peaceful; present.

He's here, and she's here for him.

There's no other way it could be.

They'll always come for each other, no matter what.

She thinks: no, we're not friends – not just friends.

Caroline settles comfortably behind him, her free hand stroking his hair as her breathing evens and he moves in closer to her body.

Toddlers & Tiaras comes on.

Thank you for reading; please review if you liked :)