Final Author's Note: It's done! Woot! Thank you to all of you who stuck with me through this story. I hope you like the ending. I've had a request for more Klaus and Elena. I have to admit that they are not the couple I typically ship, but I had a lot of fun writing this one. After I finish my Delena story, I might post a Kol/Caroline, but if you have prompts or ideas for anything you want to see with Elena/Klaus or anything else really, I'm open to ideas. Send me a PM. Thanks again for reading!

Epilogue: 8 Months Later

Klaus picks up Elena's feet and sits in the spot they had previously been resting. Placing them back on his lap, he messages them with one hand as he leans back on the couch and props his own feet on the coffee table. He's glaring at his phone, but despite his seemingly sour demeanor, he's actually perfectly content.

"Hmm. That feels good," Elena groans and Klaus offers her a saucy smile.

"Anything for my love."

Elena inclines her head at Klaus's phone. "Whatcha concentrating on so hard?"

Klaus huffs in mock anger. "I swear the kid cheats, Elena."

"Playing Words with Friends against Henry again?"

"Getting him his own mobile was a mistake. I should have a word with his father."

"Too bad you don't speak to his father," Elena smiles teasingly.

"Yea, too bad," Klaus returns her playful smile and holds her eyes a moment. Even eight months pregnant, she is still beautiful. Maybe even more so with her glowing features and radiant smile. Klaus can hardly believe she is his.

He breaks the intense stare, squeezing her foot gently. "How's the writing going?"

She shrugs. "Just revising the first chapter." She looks down at her work for a moment before saying, "Actually, I could use your help."

He turns, intrigued. "I am your servant. Command me."

She snorts. "Oh, stop."

He tickles her foot, and she nearly kicks him in the face as a result.

She gasps an apology, and he waves her away. It had been his own fault after all.

"Now, seriously, Love. How can I be of service?"

Elena settles back in against the cushions and returns her eyes to her laptop. "I'm trying to describe my character's dress, and 'dark red' just doesn't sound poetic enough. Maybe 'maroon' would work? I need your artist expertise here."

Klaus puts his hand to his chin, a modern-day reenactment of The Thinker. "Crimson. Mahogany. Scarlet," he rolls off.

At each suggestion, Elena's eyebrows lift in delight.

"Currant is a personal favorite."

"Ooo. I like that. I don't think I've heard of that one."

Klaus rises to his knees on the couch, moving her feet gently to the side so he can scoot closer to her.

"I appreciate you making me feel helpful when a simple Google search would have done the job," he jokes as Elena nimbly moves her laptop aside so he can give her a proper kiss.

"It's purely selfish. I just like to hear you talk," she says between kisses. "It's the accent."

"Right. I knew that was the only reason you agreed to marry me." Even as he says this, a well of happiness opens up inside Klaus. He finds her hand and lifts it to the light, admiring the sparkling diamond perched there.

"I love you, you know," she says, more serious now, her own eyes never leaving his face.

"I love you, too."

"I know," she smiles before pushing him back to his end of the couch. "Now, for more important matters."

"More important than kissing you."

She reddens slightly, but ignores the comment. "We need to pick the godfather for this baby."

Klaus sighs and laments, "Do we have to? Here I was thinking you were about to tell me you would actually agree to the shotgun wedding."

"Klaus, we've talked about this. I am not walking down the aisle with my stomach as big as a house. Besides, Rebekah is liable to kill me if we get married within months of her own wedding. She's already feeling upstaged enough by the baby and the proposal. Making her the godmother is barely appeasing her. You're lucky she's speaking to you."

"Are we though? Lucky, I mean. I think it would be quite pleasant not to hear from Rebekah for a while."

Elena shoves him with her foot. "You don't mean that."

"I suppose not," he admits.

"So, anyway," Elena continues pointedly, "I think it would make sense to make Marcel the godfather."

Klaus blanches. "Ugh. Why? Do we have to?"

"Well, if anything happened to us, the kids are going to go to Rebekah and Marcel anyway…"

"'Kids' plural?" Klaus asks, voice thinning. "As in more than one? Is there something you need to tell me, Elena?"

At first, Klaus hadn't been sure what to make of Elena's pregnancy. They'd only been an official couple a few weeks when Elena had discovered her mother-to-be status. He had known, unequivocally, that he loved Elena and wanted to be with her forever, but he had not been sure that he would be a good father. He hadn't exactly had the best example.

Elena had been the one to point out that it was because of this that he would be a great dad. She said, "You will know what not to do. You will know better than anyone what a child actually needs from lack of receiving those things yourself. Besides, you're a great brother, and I've seen you with Henry. I can tell you'll be the best dad."

Now that he's gotten used to the idea, he finds he's more than a little excited. But more than one? Perhaps that is overdoing it.

Elena snickers at him. "I was talking about potential future children. Remember the will we made?"

He nods, relieved. "Just making sure."

"I guess we can choose Kol," Elena says, returning to their former conversation.

Klaus snorts in derision. "Hard pass, Love. He will have given our daughter alcohol poisoning at least once by her twelfth birthday, and he would think of it as his duty to do so by the title bestowed upon him."

"Well, we're running out of options. You don't like Finn, and Lord knows we can't choose Elijah." She considers, then raises her eyes and says simply, "Enzo?"

Klaus just looks at her askance but doesn't offer a comment. They both know it's a ludicrous idea.

"What about your family? Jeremy? He's the obvious choice, no?"

"You are aware what a godfather's duties are?"

"He's your brother, Elena. He'd be offended if we didn't choose him."

"Since when do you care about offending people?"

He makes a face of assent, amused at how well she knows him.

"We need better friends and family," she says forlornly, and he chuckles as he begins to rub her feet once more. As Elena contemplates quietly, he can't help his hand from wondering. They begin to travel up her calf, under her knee to the sensitive skin there, stopping just short of her inner thigh.

Elena squirms and eyes him coolly. Her sex drive has been heightened lately, and he's been happily reaping the benefits.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she accuses.

"What am I doing," Klaus answers, coyly.

"You're trying to distract me from talking about this anymore."

"On the contrary. I just thought I could give you some incentive to hurry and make a decision. Then we can move on to other things."

"Fine, we can pick Jeremy," Elena agrees, quickly.

But Klaus is already moving, pulling down her panties and yoga pants and discarding them on the floor. She giggles and lifts up until she's straddling him. She leans down and kisses him as he cards his fingers through her long, silky hair. He loves her hair.

This is his life, and he's happy. Unbelievably so. And he cannot wait to see what else is in store for him with this beautiful woman by his side.

She's kissing him down his neck when a light bulb goes off in his brain.

"Quixotry!"

Elena lifts her head and eyes him quizzically. "What?"

Klaus lifts Elena up to standing before reaching for his phone that had fallen to the floor sometime previously.

"It's a romantic idea or action," he says, as he rises to standing and begins tapping furiously on his phone.

"Are you seriously thinking about scrabble right now?"

"Well, to be fair, it was you that made me think of the word."

"Oh, I'll make you think of some words," Elena says, cautiously dropping to her knees. Once there, she reaches for Klaus's belt buckle, her eyes never leaving his.

"You little minx," Klaus says, discarding his phone back on the couch cushion, scrabble game all but forgotten.

Fin