Clara & Klaus - The Untold Story: Keywords

Klaus nodded, accepting Clara's decision. Marcia had often preferred doing things the muggle way as well, as a consequence of her upbringing. Klaus quickly dismissed the thought, forcing himself to focus on the present.

As Clara set about blowing all the candles out, Klaus dropped his empty can into a nearby bin. He blew out the candle nearest to him, but let her do the rest, not moving lest he get in her way. When she finished and offered him another beer, he considered for a moment, tempted.

The beer itself was mediocre at best, but he could use a buzz, and the one can had only done so much. After a moment, he shrugged and grabbed another from the fridge but didn't open it just yet. He followed her to the door and stepped out into the hall.

He waited as Clara did whatever it was she felt she needed to do before they left. He didn't comment. He may not personally buy into lucky charms and karma, but he wouldn't begrudge her whatever made her feel better.

As she explained the walk ahead of them, he shrugged. "Can't be any worse than the walk here," he replied. As an auror, he'd been required to maintain peak physical condition. Though he may be slightly out of shape from the less strenuous past couple of months, he'd never had a problem with walking.

The two of them made their way down all sixteen flights of stairs in relative silence, then exited the building and started off down the street. Klaus let Clara lead the way, since she was more familiar with the area. He popped open the beer as they walked.

Every time they stopped as someone greeted Clara, Klaus stood rather awkwardly off to the side, pretending to be preoccupied with something or other: his now empty can of beer, a thread on his sleeve, a nearby window. He had very little interest in introducing himself to anyone, and Clara seemed to feel the same, so he stayed silent throughout each encounter, of which there were far too many.

Finally, they made it to the bus stop.

Suddenly, Clara halted in her tracks and Klaus pulled up short behind her.

"Wh--Clara?" He asked with some concern as he caught a glimpse of her face, her eyes unfocused and face slack. She swayed, and he caught her instinctively by the shoulders and carefully set her down on the nearby bench.

He knelt down beside her and peered into her glassy eyes, trying to understand what was happening. "Clara?"

Before he could start to panic, her eyes refocused and she seemed to deflate, as if suddenly exhausted. He breathed a sigh of relief, opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by the bus that pulled up to the curb. Casting a worried glance toward the woman who was now shakily rising to her feet, he followed her onto the bus, keeping close in case she needed someone to steady her. Or in case whatever had just happened happened again.

The two of them sat down, claiming a pair of empty seats near the back of the sparsely populated bus. Once they were situated and the bus had started moving, Klaus glanced over at her to make sure she was okay.

"What was that?" He asked, confusion and concern battling for dominance over his expression.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he didn't hide his surprise - not that she would have noticed anyway, with her eyes closed and head leaning back against the seat. While fortune tellers were relatively common, true seers were few and far between, even in their world. Klaus had only met one other in his lifetime.

He gathered from her intense reaction, the way she seemed drained of all energy, that this kind of vision didn't happen often. This was not the kind of vision that her clients received when they dropped by her apartment. This was something she couldn't control.

Whatever she had seen, it meant something.

He wondered what it was, of course, but he hardly knew proper protocol for these things. Was he allowed to ask? Was she allowed to share? Were her visions prophetic or preventable? Bad or good? Did something specific trigger them, or were they random?

Her question made the gears turn in his head as he studied her warily.

"I do," he answered carefully, now even more curious about what she'd seen. He had many scars - some from his earlier days as an auror, but most from only a few months ago. The vast majority of them crisscrossed his arms and torso. She'd seen him, then, in her vision. But what about him? And what had the future told her about his scars?