brightestlight | March 28 - Happy Birthday

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klaus mikaelson

March 28 - Happy Birthday

She didn't know when his birthday was. He'd never told her, so when she got the email, it just sort of exploded into a flurry of needing to do things. Of needing to put something together, and that's why she did. That's why she messaged him, why she'd booked the holodeck, and why she'd done this. She was outside, waiting.

And, yeah, she was wringing her hands, until she heard him coming closer. Because she was nervous. Because, as he'd told her once, what seemed a lifetime ago, he loved birthdays.

And she, Caroline Forbes, was pretty much the world's biggest stickler for throwing good parties.

"Hey," she said, exhaling in sort of a rush, smiling brightly because she was glad to see him, but that also sort of meant she could stop working on it, she could just hope it all went off well.

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Klaus isn't sure what the dress code is supposed to be, for whatever Caroline has planned for them in the holodeck, so he's wearing his usual sort of clothes. A gray long-sleeved t-shirt, buttons of its V collar undone, and a well-cut pair of dark jeans. He's clearly in a good mood, because he's smiling before he even sees her, but then his smile stretches.

"Hello, love," he answers, a hand in the small of her back, and he presses a kiss to her temple. "What've you got planned for us?"

She smiles when he pulls her close, and she leans up to kiss him hello, her eyes bright. "It's a surprise," she says, and she kisses him one more time, before she murmurs, "Close your eyes?" She doesn't know if he will, but she's still got to ask, because she's worked hard on this.

It's instinct; Klaus makes sure that as far as his weakened senses can tell, they're alone right then. Then he closes his eyes, his hand finding hers so she can easily lead him into the holodeck, after she opens the door.

"Go on, then."

She smiles, everything about her so happy in this moment, and he's got his eyes closed so he can't even see it, but she takes his hand in both of hers as she pulls him with her. She's walking backwards, but her steps are sure even when it goes from the incredibly flat, manufactured floor to cobblestones, and they're in Paris.

They're in Paris, and it's not modern Paris - it's around the 1950s, and they're next to the Seine - the path's about ten feet wide, with a low wall to the left that's got candles - all sorts of candles, along the wall about two feet between each one. They're tall and squat and fat and tapers and votives; they were whatever the holodeck gave her when she asked for a candle, and to her, it was important that she did it herself.

There were other things - they'd get to them later, but right now, when the door closed behind them and melted away, Caroline nodded to herself. "Open your eyes." And she hoped that there wasn't anything the matter with Paris, because there was pretty much one change for this to be right. "Happy Birthday," she said softly, her lips curving up into a smile.

Before he even opens his eyes, Klaus is trying to figure out what sort of simulation they're in. A city, that much is certain, between the smell of it and the discreet traffic in the semi-distance. There's another smell he can't quite place, and there's the unevenness of the ground under his feet, but in the end, who knows. It could be a number of cities.

When he opens his eyes, lips still curved in a half-smile, he sees the river, first, and takes a couple of seconds to place it. The flickering lights to the side draw his gaze, and that had been the faint smell in the air he could not place - hot wax. So many candles, and not two of them the same.

His smile has stretched into something warmer than he usually displays, because of the bundle of warmth in his chest. He didn't even know, until today, when his birthday was exactly. And Caroline's done this for him. He looks back over at her, and pulls her close, and kisses her, long, deep, and soft.

She smiles against his lips, and it's a few seconds before she pulls back even part of the way, her forearms on his shoulders. "There's a lot to do, if you want to do it. Dinner, dancing, the Louvre... we can get lost in a million people if you want." It's pretty much what he'd like to do, but she's got rough plans for whatever he may choose.

"I don't know if you were here, then - I think it's 1952."

"I don't think so, no," Klaus answers after a few seconds' thoughts. Exact years tend to become increasingly difficult to remember, as time goes by. "Let me take you to dinner," he offers, "some place where there is dancing."

If this is an exact replica of Paris at the time, he knows a place or ten. "What do you say?" he asks, hands easily settled on her waist, smile easily settled on his lips.

"Take me to dinner?" She can't not smile, but she shakes her head slightly, even though she'll let him. She leans up to kiss him again, murmuring against his lips. "You know it's your birthday, right? Not mine? Why would you take me to dinner?" She pulled back just enough to look up at him. "Not that I'd say no. It's been... well. Forever, since we've had the chance, so... It's your birthday. You can lead the way."

It's hard for her, to give up the control. She's used to planning everything, every single thing, but here she can't -- and she wants to know more about him. It's been months, and she still wants to know more about him; things like where he'd pick, and what he liked-- this was unexpected, but hardly unwelcome.

"Well, if I take you to dinner, it means I get the pleasure of your company over a lovely meal," Klaus points out, smiling easily as he offers her his arm. "And if I take you to dinner some place where there is dancing, it means I get the pleasure of a few spins on the dance floor with you, too. And it is my birthday," he confirms, because it apparently is, and that absolutely means that he should get these pleasures.

"Will the computer people notice our clothes?" he asks her as they start walking, her hand in the crook of his elbow. They're not exactly dressed for the fifties.

"Of course it's your birthday," she says, and even if she's surprised, she still is going to let him lead this one - because there's a lot of surprises that she wants to give him, and this just makes it so it's unique. So that his birthday is Paris, and she knows that he knows enough places to make it special. "I don't know," she said honestly, walking beside him with her hands holding his arm. "I haven't done a historical thing yet, I just sort of chilled out by the door."

She tipped her head to the side as they walked along the Seine. "How long have you spent in Paris?" She knows he's old - of course he's old, but she can't quite grasp how things must have been. 1700s, sure, that she can get, but when you're talking hundreds and hundreds of years... she doesn't even know what it would look like.

"Too long to keep track of," Klaus answers, "but rarely more than a few months at a time." Paris is great, but only in short bursts of enjoyment. The best way not to have it spoil.

"I was here a few years from now, though," he adds. "Can you swing-dance, love?"

"Swing dance?" She laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I.... Sort of? I don't know if it's authentic," she says with her mouth quirking into a smile. "Not exactly the sort of thing I'd peg you for, a swing dancer. Not quite enough seriousness involved." She's teasing him, trying to take it all in. "This is the first time I've explored this," she says softly. "Paris. I know it's not the same as for real, but-" She said it really softly, her temple just still against his arm. "You said you'd show me the world." And then she clears her throat, and walks beside him a little faster, a little less... Well. Whatever that had been.

"Did they still swing-dance in the fifties?" She honestly doesn't know - she saw Swing Kids, but that was in the 40s, and Caroline's not exactly super up on history.

"Or I wouldn't ask, would I," Klaus points out with a smile that is, in fact, sheer good mood. It's rare enough to see him in one of these. "The fifties were... tedious, in many ways. The rules of society had loosened during the War, but everybody was back in their proper place in the fifties. Swing-dance was for the free spirits of the Western world."

Very much what speakeasies had been in the twenties.

Caroline smiled, leaning her head against his upper arm. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to see if what I know is right. I'll need to get a dress, too." She smiles, and then looks over at him. "How old do you think you are? I mean, even roughly." There's got to be some sort of age, doesn't there? Do you really forget?"

Caroline was pretty sure her birthday, year, and social security number were drilled into her head forevermore, or something close to it.

"It isn't about forgetting, love," Klaus tells her, having them turn into a busier street, hoping to find a clothes shop. "We didn't count years the same way you did. I honestly don't know which year I was born, by this day and age's accounting. I only know we've been alive for something like a thousand years, give or take a few decades."

And once you reach that age, a few decades hardly mattered

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March 28 - Happy Birthday

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