#KlarosummerBingo

[withyouandthemoon]

Waterly Challenged

Written for @klarosummerbingo​

Prompt: Mermaid. You can also read it on AO3 or FF.net.

Author’s Note: I thought I’d try my hand at a Merman!Klaus. And even though I haven’t been writing for a while, writing Klaus from Klaus’ perspective is always fun. I wanted to get as much ocean vibe there as possible since I’m still cooped up inside and I want OUT. So maybe too many ocean metaphors I know I know. Still, hope you enjoy:)

***

He didn’t remember California being this hot the last time he was here. Klaus’s brows furrowed so tightly under the scorching sun he could feel a headache coming up. He wished he had brought the sunglasses Rebekah gave him the last time she was home. “And what use would I have for those?” He’d asked, veiling his amusement and affection under a layer of criticism as usual. But Rebekah knew him too well to get riled up by a simple comment like that, or to be intimidated for that matter, “for one, it would make you look less like an old grumpy wanker.”

He had to admit to himself: sometimes it was nice to have a sister.

But certainly not right now. Right now he would very much like to drag Rebekah by her meddling little arms and throw her right into a pod of raucous dolphins. Let her get a taste of being annoyed to no end without an out. That was, if he could find her in the foreseeable future.

He should have known that his little sister was up to no good. She’d called out to him three days ago in the special frequency that only their kind could hear, asking to meet him at a beach in Malibu. Even through their own coded words she sounded distressed. So Klaus had cut short the very important errand he was running around the Japanese Sea and crossed almost the entire Pacific Ocean for his thousand-year-old baby sister.

Only to get stood up, scared to the point of committing homicide – or whatever was the correct term for a merman killing a Homo Sapien, and forced running around town for a whiff of her whereabouts. After two days’ worth of restless searching, he was left exhausted in this desert of a place with the infuriating news that Rebekah, his distressed sister, was airily sipping rainbow-colored cocktails in Tahiti, perfectly safe and sated.

And perfectly blocking all of his calls.

The little twit didn’t even have the decency to apologize. Instead, she threw accusations in the form of an all-cap text message.

STOP BLOWING UP MY PHONE NIK! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME FOR GETTING YOU OUT ON LAND BEFORE YOU ROT IN THAT HELL YOU CALL YOUR BIRTHRIGHT.

And then another. At least not all cap this time.

Surprised you remembered the phone though, since YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE WIFI IN THAT DUMP!

Klaus sighed, resisting the urge to throw the phone and hear it crack just to release one thousandth of his frustration. Barring call-blocking, this remains the most convenient way for him to contact any of his siblings in human territory. Also, the sleek black device was yet another gift from Rebekah, and he’d rather hang onto it even though she was not his favorite person at the moment, to put it lightly.

Rebekah had never been subtle about her agenda to lure him into the human world. Granted subtlety had never been her strong suit, but for the past century or so she’d switched lanes from casual hints here and there to downright blatant bombardment. And now apparently it had come to the stage of cheap trickery and scheming. She was one step away from straight-up kidnapping.

As if. Klaus ground his teeth, his mouth dry like sand in the Californian beach. He’d keep her in her tail-swaying mermaid form if he had to, just so she didn’t take that final step.

Not that he hadn’t tried. Klaus thought darkly, skin tight and crisp from the lack of water. A few centuries ago when his older brother Elijah found out he was working with their Shaman trying to find a way to bind all his siblings in their merpeople forms forever, they’d been furious. Rebekah had raved and cried, his younger brother Kol swung and smashed, and Elijah just left without one more word.

They all did eventually. It’d taken him almost a century to find them, and another to get back into their good graces. But by then they’d all established their contented lives in the human world, endeared and bedazzled by the fresh, quirky, fleeting yet booming human ways.

And he was left here alone, in some nameless human neighborhood, hot and thirsty and drained, in a world that he neither cared for nor understood.

He needed to find some water, soon.

In hindsight he’d been too careless – or too distracted by his sister’s wicked tricks to be precise. The first thing they were taught about venturing into the human world was to always keep themselves near water. Well, not the first thing actually. The first thing was not to venture into human territories in the first place, which ironically he had adhered to out of all his siblings for hundreds of years. But in the haste to find Rebekah he’d forgot about the second rule.

Contrary to certain fabricated lore, merpeople wouldn’t die from a lack of water. Instead, they’d slowly “mummify” from dehydration as Rebekah so elegantly put it. Klaus detested directly borrowing human terms, the creators themselves so susceptible to the corruption of mortality that they felt the need to rejuvenate their language at an ungodly rate. And he detested the feeling of dehydration, every inch of his skin feeling foreign and desperate.

Yet fortune had it that he was already too far from the beach but not close enough to any human residential area. He’d been walking for quite a while and all he saw was the forsaken desert with no river nor pond, not even a store where he could purchase some relief with human currency. Klaus squinted in annoyance as he watched a small group of humans gathering in the middle of nowhere, dancing to strange music generated by an even smaller group in the center. He recognized it as some form of a concert.

Pushing down his distain, he examined the crowd in the corner of which he spotted a scrawny creature crouching beside a box, with a poorly made sign that read: ICE WATER. Praise Poseidon.

Klaus exhaled and strode toward the sign. It would probably be bottled with the disgusting taste of chemicals and plastic, but it would have to do for now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one piece of their ridiculous paper currency, not bothering to read what was on it. Rebekah had said that they were all high in face value anyway.

He was just about to hand the piece of paper to the merchant when a female voice interrupted from a few steps away, “hey there! You got any water left?” Klaus paid it no mind as he pushed his money-holding hand an inch forward. He couldn’t wait to be rid of the filthy-smelling piece. But he was interrupted yet again by the fast approach of a human body, the air shifting around him not unlike water currents, only lighter, and warmer, with a sweet scent of flowers. Klaus impatiently looked up at the human that almost bumped into him.

She was beautiful.

Merely seconds later Klaus would regret the prolonged stare. But in those few seconds, he let his eyes roam over her lean form, flushed face, and hair the color of gold.

He was pulled out of his trance when the scrawny merchant drawled, “sorry, only one left.” And regret started to set in as the female reached for her purse with a smiley nod. Under any other circumstances Klaus would gladly let her have the water, but not right now when he barely felt he fit in his own shriveled skin.

“Excuse me, I was here first.” The female didn’t seem to hear him, “excuse me –”

“Huh?” Finally, shiny blue eyes skimmed over to him like gentle waves, and Klaus felt his heart swim for a tiny moment. “I’m sorry, did you want something?”

Klaus gulped, gesturing at the box with the bill that he was still holding, “I was just saying that I was here first.” Inside he was silently fuming since he sounded like an absolute idiot.

“Oh,” she blinked a few times in surprise, then blinded him with a big smile, “well you see, I’ve been here all day and I’m really, really thirsty, what with all the singing and dancing. You know how concerts are. Anyway,” she bit her stuck-out lower lip, batted her long lashes, and slightly swayed the lower half of her body. “Could you just let me have this one? Thanks!”

Klaus may be an idiot, but he could recognize the tricks from a mile away. And amused as he was, he wouldn’t let the little lady have her way. Not this time.

“I’m afraid I can’t agree to that, love.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on her as he shoved the cash into the merchant’s face, “keep the change.” Whatever number was on that piece of paper, it was enough for the merchant to promptly lay the icy-cold bottle into his waiting palm.

Her rosy lips hung open, seemingly unaccustomed to anything uttered from them being so easily rejected, “seriously? It’s just a bottle of water!”

“Sure it is,” his fingers closed around the plastic container, the condensation taking the edge off his severe dehydration. “Then why the indignation?”

She huffed, her golden curls bouncing so lively, “I am not indignant. Just shocked to see that chivalry is indeed dead.”

“It would be if you are always in such a haste to announce its demise,” Klaus chuckled, “I, however, would very much like to prove the contrary. How about dinner with me, tonight?”

“Really? You just robbed my water and now you’re asking me out to dinner? I don’t even know your name!” She threw up her hands before tilting her head to regard him with a stinging amount of contempt, “used to getting your way, huh? Is it the accent? Personally, I don’t get the hype.”

“Actually I could say the same thing about you.”

“What?” Her brows went up and the tiniest crease formed on her forehead. It was adorable.

“You are just as used to ‘getting your way’, aren’t you? You never thought I’d take the water, even if I was here first.” He smirked at her, and the girl had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, her face blushing just enough for Klaus to notice.

But she was not one to ever back down. Klaus could tell.

“I’m not wasting my time arguing with you, water-hogger!” She crossed her arms and jutted out her hip, a delicate statue of beauty and petulance. Klaus couldn’t wait to further rile her up.

“Speaking of water and time-wasting,” he uncapped the bottle and, in a swift move, poured all the content right over his own head. He didn’t hold back the sigh at the sweet relief, his drying skin finally feeling appeased, the moisture soothing away the layer of tension that had built over the past hours. He basked in the cool comfort for a few more seconds before taking notice of the unexpected silence. He’d thought she’d be screaming at him at this point. Anger was a good color on her.

But instead the girl was quiet save for the audible gasp she’d let slip. Klaus palmed away the water from his face, looking at her curiously.

She was not looking at his face though. Her eyes were transfixed on his midriff, jaw hanging open. Klaus followed her line of sight and pleasantly realized how see-through the white T-shirt he threw on this morning could be under the…right circumstances. He looked back at the girl and caught her unconsciously wetting her lips.

“See something you like, love?”

“Huh?”

Klaus didn’t quite hold back the laughter boiling at his throat. The blush on her face grew.

“I mean…how could you! You didn’t even drink it! What is this, some low-budget R-rated movie?” She gestured frantically at him, expressive to the tip of her blonde curls.

For the sake of his own chances, Klaus decided to let that comment slide. “I assure you sweetheart, it was never my intention to offend you. Now how about I acquit myself over dinner and drinks? It’s only fair.”

***

After much persuasion and sweettalking, the girl – Caroline was her name – said yes, ostensibly reluctantly. Klaus saw the little smile she tried to hide when they parted ways though. They’d exchanged phone numbers, and now Klaus was wandering around downtown LA trying to find the restaurant that Caroline exclaimed they simply “must try” via text messages.

He’d driven here alone in a car that his family had left in a local property they owned. Throughout the years they’d accumulated human possessions as such all over the world. Klaus had always thought it unnecessary, but now he had to admit that Kol’s theory of “in times of need” had its merit.

Still he was not overly fond of the human world, which was way too crowded to begin with. Yet these little creatures loved to confine themselves in even smaller spaces like dwellings and automobiles, skyscrapers that cut the streets into narrow trenches. It was ridiculous, as if they were secretly afraid of too much freedom. As least it appeared that way when they kept bumping into Klaus with their sweaty arms and shoulders.

Suffice it to say he was not in the best of moods when he found his destination in a small alley off the beaten path. Yet in a city like this even the unbeaten path never went unnoticed, and sure enough there was a line forming outside the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Klaus inwardly sighed. Humans. Of course they would spend their already fleeting life doing meaningless chores like waiting in lines. It was nearly fascinating how senseless this self-crowned “superior” species could be. Klaus had watched them from beyond the shorelines for centuries, and still he could not quite figure them all out. Whenever he thought he’d finally summed up the ultimate principles of human behavior, something jumped out from the sea of random yet monotonous motions and intrigued him to take a closer look.

Like the fact that Caroline had apparently decided the perfect spot for a romantic dinner was a Japanese ramen joint.

Maybe this wasn’t a romantic dinner for her. The girl did seem like she was still silently fuming when she said her goodbyes. So maybe she was trying to distance herself and pretend this wasn’t a real date. If that was the case, then Klaus would have no problem showing her his very pure intentions.

He was wracking his brains for any rusty memories of human conventions regarding courtship, along with any pieces of Rebekah’s relationship quips or woes that he hadn’t completely filtered out, when he heard the sound of her sweet voice, with just a hint of hesitance, “umm...hey there, Klaus.” His name, even uttered with strangeness, sounded titillating on her tongue.

Klaus took a moment just to appreciate her form. She wore a blue dress that took on a warm hue in the evening sun, her long legs pouring out from the flowy material ending in yellow strappy sandals. She’d painted her toenails, transparent paint with an iridescent sheen, like that of the inside of a seashell. The dress had a low neckline that revealed the little golden shell-shaped pendant nestled between her breasts. Earrings in the same shape dangled around her face. Her hair was down this time, rather than the two braids she wore earlier that day, and one side was pinned back with a star-shaped clip. Starfish, if he had to guess.

Her outfit had a theme. Klaus had to smile at that.

“Okay, you need to stop staring, like right now.” Caroline held out a perfectly manicured finger, same shade as her toenails, “that is way too creepy to be cute.”

“So you think I’m cute?”

“You clearly think it enough for the both of us,” she shrugged. “No need to feed your ego.”

Klaus merely smiled at that, “you look beautiful, Caroline.” He decided that blushing was his second favorite look of hers, right after annoyed and defiant.

“Thanks, you too.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked aside, her long eyelashes fluttering up and down from her profile, as if shining whale flukes rising and then sinking into the evening sea. It was mesmerizing, like a painting, but suddenly that painting swung into life when she looked back, a big smile lighting up her entire face, “well come on then, I’m starving.”

“In case you haven’t noticed...” Klaus gestured at the growing line.

“Don’t worry about that,” she whispered to him, her breath tickling the side of his face, “I know someone here.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow at that, but Caroline just winked at him, “you were right about one thing – I am used to getting my way.”

She led him right to the front of the line and greeted some brunette girl named Vicky. “I met her earlier at the concert, and she just happens to work here. Isn’t it great?” Klaus simply nodded and smiled, his eyes following her every move as she navigated the crowd with confidence and ease. The crowd didn’t seem so ghastly now that it parted for her charms, and their growing proximity was a much-appreciated bonus.

Ten minutes later they were sitting side by side at the wrap-around counter in the center of the room, facing the open kitchen where chefs bustled around. Drinks were at hand, orders were in, and Klaus was more than happy to keep watching Caroline in pleasant silence. Caroline, apparently, didn’t quite think so.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop with the creepy staring thing?”

“I believe you did,” he tilted his head. “However, try as I might you are far too beautiful for me to avert my eyes.”

“Laying it on a little too thick there,” Caroline half-laugh half-scoffed. “Don’t tell me you actually got girls to date you with those lines.”

Actually mermaids in his kingdom had been throwing themselves at him since even before he claimed the throne, but Klaus was not going to tell her that. “Not in so many words, no.” Something in her words registered then, “so this is a date?”

Caroline shrugged, “I said yes, didn’t I?” His expression must have given him away somehow because Caroline laughed, and it was the most melodic sound, “I know, doesn’t sound like a rational decision – trust me I’m still debating over it.” She gave him a pointed look, “and I’m totally not over the water incident, but curiosity trumps grudges I guess.”

Klaus felt his heart flutter. She was curious about him. That was definitely a good sign. But more than anything he wanted to use her lovely curiosity to fulfill his own. “I’ve always found curiosity a great trait in people,” although in others’ cases it always entailed something he could manipulate to his own heart’s desire. “So, what are you most curious about? Other than myself, that is.”

Caroline threw him an unimpressed look, though the corners of her pink glossed lips were lifting upwards, “you just can’t lose that annoyingly smug, over-confident, I-know-better-than-anyone-else attitude, huh?”

“What can I say? It goes with my outfit,” he joked, the playful light-heartedness a fresh feeling in his chest, “and I do.”

“What?”

“Know better than anyone else.” He smirked.

“Seriously, are you like an actor or something? You sound like you’ve been type-casted as the supervillain in a bazillion trash shows.” Her lips wrapped around the straw of her lemon sea salt iced tea, the sight instantly drying up Klaus’s throat.

He coughed and quickly took a sip of his own drink, “and here I thought I was to star in ‘some low-budget R-rated movie’.”

Her eyes fell on his then, the blues deep yet clear, “you know, it’s not very chivalrous of you to repeat everything I said back to me.”

“Believe me, chivalry has nothing to do with this one. I just couldn’t stop replaying our brief encounter over and over again in my head,” he licked his lower lip, looking at her from under his own eyelashes, listening for that catch in her breath.

There it was. Sometimes truth made the greatest lines.

“Now why don’t you tell me all about your curiosities, and give me a bit more material to obsess over?”

***

Their dinner date was quite a success, if Klaus did say so himself. Caroline, it turned out, was a great conversationalist when he wasn’t getting on her nerves. She openly shared her life stories, and Klaus had hung on to her every word. Everything appeared fascinating when she was in the picture, including her smalltown origin, her endeavors at keeping the perfect GPA, her last-minute decision to travel to the West Coast for vacation, and the boy troubles besieging her best friend slash roommate, which Caroline had been regaling him for the past half-hour. It was a long story, Caroline had warned him.

Klaus wasn’t particularly interested in the story, nor its main characters, having seen similar plots repeating itself in the past centuries. A woman vacillating between siblings was hardly news, no matter how excruciating it might have felt to the participants. Though truth be told, it was just one other thing he didn’t understand about humans – his people had far more determination, and far less care for the pesky notion of monogamy when it came to the matter of hearts. And what he couldn’t understand, he generally sneered at.

But Caroline seemed deeply invested in the issue, and Klaus couldn’t fault her for her youth, or her genuine care for the people she considered hers. Not to mention that she looked absolutely stunning when she cared.

They were now walking alongside a quiet beach, having driven here at Klaus’ request. Caroline was gesturing vehemently while she talked a mile a minute, her nimble fingers seemingly toying with the evening breeze. Klaus idly wondered how they would feel on him, but the thought was fleeting as Caroline’s expressions commanded his full attention. She had such an expressive face, all the emotions written on it seamlessly morphing into one another like the colors of the evening sky. He couldn’t afford to miss even a single nuance, filing every detail into his mind in something akin to reverence.

“I’m just saying, she’s the one hanging onto the past so hard it’s pathological. We are halfway through college and she’s still going back and forth between her high school boyfriend, and – oh wait – his brother who’s entirely too old for her!” Caroline threw up her hands, “Damon is a disgusting scum, period. And Stefan, well I love him but he has to deal with his substance abuse problem on his own, and Elena isn’t exactly helping. And now she’s accusing me of trying to ‘get out’? What’s wrong with having a life plan? No offense but she should try it sometimes.”

“What do you mean ‘get out’?”

“Oh my god,” Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes blinking sheepishly, “how long have I been talking? I’m so sorry! It’s just that we just had a huge fight right before I left for LA and we aren’t talking right now, and it’s just so frustrating I –”

“Relax, love,” Klaus touched her bare shoulder, feeling an involuntary shiver going through him. He indulged himself in lingering one more second before removing his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin a phantom glow on the tip of his finger. “You’ve known her your whole life. It’s understandable that the situation weighs on your mind. But I might need some further explanation on the topic.”

“Oh, right,” Caroline laughed, “I have finally decided on a major, and basically my career path for like, the next decade. I want to become a marine biologist one day, which means a PhD at a decent school. Whitmore just can’t cut it. But Elena isn’t exactly happy about that.”

Klaus frowned. His indifference towards this Elena girl was fast growing into annoyance, “and why is that? I’d imagine anyone would be happy for you, let alone one of your closest friends.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Caroline huffed, “but according to Elena, apparently I ‘think myself too good for the small-town life’ and ‘always bite off more than I can chew’. I wonder who’s been feeding her all this garbage talk.”

“Only few are destined for great things, sweetheart, which means they are almost always misunderstood.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “hey, just because you’re the one percent doesn’t mean you need to spew this elitist nonsense, alright?”

Klaus lifted an eyebrow, amused, “and how do you know I’m the ‘one percent’?”

“I may be a biology major, but I can tell brands just fine. Especially expensive ones.”

Klaus chuckled at her haughty look. She was right in a sense, even though most of his limited collection of human attires came from his shopaholic little sister, save for the occasional gifted belts or ties from Elijah.

“Seriously, do you own a million-dollar business or something? You have that all-powerful boss vibe.” Her eyes sparkled with a combination of curiosity and secret excitement, probably generated from the sensitivity of the topic. But as Rebekah used to say, what was gossip if not swirls of intelligence to the educated ears? And he would certainly enjoy indulging her in her little vices. 

“You could say that.” Running the ocean kingdom was not unlike running a human business, he supposed.

“Wow,” Caroline said quietly. “I mean I suspected, but I didn’t think I’d actually be right. Maybe you were just one of the extremely cocky ones, you know?”

“That, my dear,” Klaus smirked, the innuendo clear in his voice, “is also very true.”

“Don’t even start.” Caroline warned him with a pointy finger and glaring eyes, but they turned sparkly in an instant, “so tell me how it feels.”

“Being cocky?”

“No, being a conceited pervert who has the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old boy,” she rolled her eyes at him, the ripples of smile never quite gone from her face.

Klaus shrugged, “to be honest, I don’t know how to answer your question. It’s been long since I contemplated my feelings towards the...business. It’s mine now. What more can I say?”

“What do you mean it’s yours now? Who did you take it from?”

Klaus had to admire her shrewdness, even when it worked against him, “it belonged to my...stepfather’s family for generations.” The word “stepfather” tasted like cutting sand on his tongue. It would forever irk him that he could not erase the putrid name of Mikael from his own existence. Even in death that man haunted his thoughts, his decisions, his narrative. He hated it with everything that he was.

“So he left it for you?” Caroline threw the question back over her shoulder, approaching the ocean beckoning at their side.

Klaus watched as she took off her sandals and stepped into the waters, her giddiness almost palpable. The sun was setting, the tides long since ebbed, and she almost stumbled into the scene with all the enthusiasm of someone who was chasing either, not knowing that she resembled a goddess who could have stopped both. Klaus followed suit without a spare thought, a tantalizing calling in his core, from the ocean or her he couldn’t tell.

He watched as she bent down, her hair cascading while her fingers immersed into the rose gold reflection of herself. For a few moments he forgot the breath that he didn’t need, and just looked in awe at her hovering over the edge of his kingdom. She straightened up then, looking back at him, her eyes questioning. He finally realized that she was still waiting for an answer.

Klaus sighed, shaking his head, his lips twisting into the sarcastic angles that they were so used to, “on the contrary, he made it painfully clear that I wasn’t worthy.” For the first five centuries of his life, with words and whips alike. “So I proved him wrong.”

Even after hundreds of years Mikael’s blood splattering onto his face as Klaus plunged his hand into his chest still tasted fresh. He’d reduced him to nothing, and took all that he had – the kingdom, the title, the crown. And the victory, just as his dying blood, tasted like acid rust. Painful and stale and irremovable – a prison that he willingly subjected himself to for the rest of eternity.

“You don’t sound so happy about that,” her voice broke through his muddled thoughts, but he was too preoccupied to decide whether that hint of kinship he detected was real. “I know it probably meant a lot to you at the time, but if you are not happy with it, have you ever considered leaving?”

Klaus walked to her side and crouched down, sinking his palms into the coolness of his life source. He instantly closed his eyes, the sense of connection overwhelming. What was only salty water to humans was so much more to his kind. He could feel every message, every emotion, every tiniest tremble of nerve, from the wooing songs of a merman in love, to the panicked chemicals of a herring about to meet its end.

He remembered the first time he was allowed to ascend to the surface. With a longer life span, merpeople were usually considered to be mature enough only when they’d lived a century, at which time they would have the freedom to go above and leave the kingdom at will. Klaus had seen his brother Elijah do it, secretly clinging onto the stories and souvenirs of his adventures. But as if sensing his eagerness, Mikael held off his ascendency until he was a hundred and fifty. He’d made the journey by himself that day, swimming as fast as he could towards the blurred visage of the sun.

His heart nearly stopped when he burst out of the water. A century and a half he’d been used to the thick consistency of water, the heaviness, the pressure. Now in the barely existent embrace of air, he felt unbearably light. For the longest moment he was frozen in space, lost and bewildered without the anchor of his destined burden. A thousand feelings warring in his chest, he was thrilled yet terrified, exalted but melancholy, all bravado, all resentment, all nostalgia. He ended up lurking around the reefs spying on the humans on shore, closer than he’d ever got, but feeling farther still. 

How could he ever explain to her that he didn’t know how to live like that?

So finally he whispered gruffly, like the coward that he was, “it’s complicated.”

He snuck a peek at her, expecting a modicum of sympathy, but she only snorted, “‘it’s complicated’, give me a break! It’s all I’ve been hearing this past week. Hell, this past year. Let me tell you, Klaus, nothing is that complicated.”

He bristled at her quick judgment, standing up and towering over her in one stride, “and how would you know? Just because you’ve had an easy sheltered life -”

“Hey, stop right there!” Again with the finger. Klaus had half a heart to bite it off at this point, not having been interrupted by anyone outside of his siblings for decades. He was about to fire back a venomous reply when he felt her hand on his arm, the unexpected touch soothing him instantly.

“Look, I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings, I’m sorry okay?” Caroline smiled sheepishly, then putting on a stern look, “but I refuse to be lashed out at.”

Klaus exhaled deeply, “it was not my intention, love. However, you need to understand that sometimes life presents us with impossible circumstances. Its natural cruelty is unmatched even by the sharpest minds.”

“Which is why everyone should just listen to me!” Caroline exclaimed, giving the sand a small kick in her frustration, and already a laugh was tickling at his throat despite himself.

“And pray tell why that is?”

“Because I have the best answers!” She swirled around, her soft scent surging around him, “for everyone! Elena, Stefan, Damon the Douchebag, even you.” She clasped her hands together, her eyes determined and sure, “Elena should dump both of the Salvatores and focus on herself for a while. Stefan can transfer to another university, up north, or maybe Europe. Somewhere with long winters and a lot of comfort food, no party schools. And Damon can just fuck off.”

Now he did laugh, unable to stay annoyed at her, “and what of me?”

“Well, I know it’s not my place yet, but I think you could use a break from that family business of yours. Not saying you should just up and quit, but go take a vacation or something.”

“Yet?” He teased her with a straight face, although his own amusement was hard to contain.

She blushed furiously down to her clavicles, the color set off by the blue of her dress, and one pink bra strap that had slipped out from the neckline. She had so many colors on her, down to the little trinkets that she used to adorn her impeccable form. It was strikingly different from Rebekah, who was at her heart still a creature of the sea and preferred pearls to any other jewellery like a true mermaid. Caroline, however, reminded him of a painting that he found in a sinking ship little over a century ago. The moment he had his eyes on it he knew he had to see it for real. Not in the perpetual cold blue hues of the ocean, but in the blinding sunlight where colors reside. And he did.

He saw all the swirling colors in broad daylight. So straightforward and honest and raw that it physically hurt him, yet he couldn’t avert his eyes.

“I never asked you why you wanted to be a marine biologist.”

Caroline’s eyes widened, no doubt surprised both at being spared from her slip, and at his memory of her words, “I’ve always loved the ocean. When I was young I used to watch The Little Mermaid all the time, it was my favorite movie back then. According to my mom, my first dream job was actually a mermaid. I guess a marine biologist is as close as I can get.”

“You’d make a perfect mermaid, sweetheart.”

“Yeah yeah, I know I would,” she obviously didn’t believe him, nodding along with a pointed look before bursting into melodic laughter. “But I have my heart set on marine biology for now.”

“I’m sure you’d excel at that, too.” Spoken no less sincerely than his last remark. He could see it in her eyes, the passions and ambitions burning bright. He knew a fighter when he saw one.

Caroline nodded emphatically, “I really want to. And as I’m sure you already know, whatever I want, I find a way to get it.”

“Simple as that, huh?”

“Exactly. Work, study, fame, love, peace, world domination...You can have it all, as long as you want it bad enough.”

Klaus reached for her hand then. It was soft and warm and trembling slightly, but she finally let it settle in his. Light as a feather, a piece of reassurance nestled in his palm, for what he didn’t know. Her eyes looked up to meet his, and Klaus felt a tide in his soul.

“Well sweetheart, I might just take your sage words for it.”

It seemed like he was going on a vacation after all.

[lalainajanes]

For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.

Masks Off

When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.

And exhausted.

She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.

It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.

The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.

She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.

Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.

She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.

She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.

She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.

There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but  Caroline knows he must be working on something big.

Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.

The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.

It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.

She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.

She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.

She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?

Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.

She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.

As does another person.

Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.

She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.

There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.

When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.

She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”

It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.

But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.

The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”

Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.

Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”

She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”

Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.

Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.

“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.

The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.

Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.

Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.

She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.

Well, crap.

If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.

Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”

“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”

She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.

She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.

Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.

* * * * *

Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.

She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.

Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.

She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.

Which is not ideal.

Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”

Damn it.

Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.

She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.

Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.

“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”

The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”

Caroline can admit that’s fair.

“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”

No one even cracks a smile.

“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”

No response.

Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”

Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”

Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.

The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.

“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”

Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”

She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.

Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”

Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”

Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.

It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.

Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.

A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.

Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.

He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”

He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”

He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.

“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”

She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”

His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”

His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.

He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.

Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”

The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.

* * * * *

Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.

She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.

The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”

Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.

She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.

There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.

The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.

And promptly drops her wine class.

The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.

Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.

She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.

Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”

She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.

Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.

* * * * *

Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.

Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.

Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.

But she’s getting ahead of herself.

Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.

She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”

Which answers one of her most pressing questions.

Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”

Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”

He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”

She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.

Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.

She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”

Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.

Caroline refuses to find it endearing.

At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.

[supremeuppityone]

The Plus One

This was written for @klarosummerbingo​. A political scandal and a hastily cancelled wedding — this summer intern had been very busy.

Prompt: Summer intern

Warning: Angst. Angst. Angst.

           The satin-finished wedding invitations were stamped with rose gold, beautifully highlighting the hummingbird that had been a symbol of their relationship. The fire consumed them in record time, but Caroline assumed that the bottle of Italian brandy she’d hurled into the stone pit had helped. Under normal circumstances, watching hundreds of dollars’ worth of painstakingly designed work go up in flames would’ve made the sensible woman scream her lungs out. But she was done screaming. Besides, she left any pretense of “normal” behind her last week when the summer intern announced she was pregnant.  

           Caroline hadn’t paid much attention to the fresh-faced college sophomore, but Hayley had made her presence known as soon as she began interning that summer for Elijah’s reelection campaign. At first, she’d inexplicably set her sights on the happily married senator, whose wife was not only extraordinarily beautiful, but also a vengeful force of nature. Katherine knew how to cut a bitch to ribbons despite her fancy East Coast finishing school upbringing, and the campaign staff often would flee in terror the moment she walked into the room.

           When Hayley had shifted her focus to Klaus, he hadn’t seemed to notice at first. So steeped in Elijah’s mercurial policy changes and position statements, he easily dismissed the summer intern’s pouty flirtations as enthusiasm for her work. It was a laughable statement considering Hayley’s ‘work’ seemed to consist of moving the same outdated campaign banners from one low shelf to another, ensuring her stupid wolf tattoo was on display as often as possible.

           Caroline had been irritated by Hayley’s cutting remarks about how she was a ‘guy’s girl’ and that men always preferred that to a ‘girly girl’. The comments obviously were designed to provoke her, and Caroline could admit that she’d spent far too much time debating the best way to respond to such insulting and outdated notions. Finally, she’d realized much of her frustration stemmed from misplaced jealousy, and was a waste of time. She’d left behind that insecure girl she’d been long ago. Her faith in Klaus was unshakable.

           The jingle of the antique copper bell at the patio door startled Caroline, and she warily turned around, already smelling the bite of Klaus’ cologne. She used to love placing sweet kisses along his neck, savoring the cedar and spice scent. “You have no reason to be here,” she warned him in a clipped tone, “Katherine’s assistant already picked up your stuff.”

           “Yes, Stefan made sure to convey my sister-in-law’s displeasure by emptying the boxes along the highway.”

           It was the hint of a smirk that made her explode. “Do you think this is funny?!” She slammed down the empty stationary box embossed with the wedding date in gold filigree. The wedding that had been cancelled quietly. “You betrayed me! You swore there was nothing going on with Hayley, but now you tell me she’s having your baby!” She shook her head, not bothering to disguise her bitterness. “At least I found out who you are before I ruined my life.”

           Klaus reared back as though she’d struck him. “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You still know me. I love you and we can still—”

           “We can still what? Get married? I could never be with someone who respects me so little!”

           Jaw clenched, Klaus pleaded, “Please, sweetheart, don’t do this to us. In this matter, I had no choice. Family above all.”

           What the hell was she supposed to do with that? Caroline scoffed, fists clenched as she rose to her feet. “You broke us and your excuse is to vomit up the Mikaelson family motto?! Seriously?!” Pointing toward the door, she commanded, “Get the fuck out.”

           As he bowed his curly head and sorrowfully trudged away, she added venomously, “It’s Elijah I really feel for — it’s unbelievably selfish to put his senate campaign at risk like this. But he’s a good man and hopefully his constituents will remember that.”

           “Of course. Elijah — ever the noble brother,” Klaus muttered derisively as he all but fled from her sight.

                                _____________________________

           The heavy oak door slammed open, rattling the display case holding Elijah’s prized campaign buttons from the infamous former president St. John’s administration. Klaus furiously stormed into Elijah’s office, enraged to see his brother continued to calmly type on his laptop.

           “Is it done then,” the senator asked loftily, barely flicking his gaze over the top of his screen.

           A curious mix of outrage and shame mingled on Klaus’ face as he gnashed his teeth. “Yes. Caroline believes the child is mine. Based on your wife’s petty actions, it appears that she believes it as well.” He acidly added, “Congratulations, brother — the woman I love will never forgive me, but your political career is saved.”

           Elijah’s stone-face visage didn’t mask the nervous twitch of his jaw as he wordlessly nodded.

           Unable to bear standing in the same room with the brother he once idolized, Klaus paused at the threshold to bitterly say, “Family above all.”

[morningstargirl666]

Backpacking In Europe

Written for @klarosummerbingo from the prompt ‘backpacking in Europe’ - sorry if it’s a bit late. 

Summary: Wherein there is no actual backpacking in Europe, and Kol's friendship with Caroline may prove useful to Klaus after all.

“KLAUS! KLAAAAAUUUUUS!”

The front door shuddered with the force of each bang, each urgent knock so loud it probably could be heard ten doors down. Cursing, Klaus stumbled out of the bathroom and hurried towards the door, hand drying his wet hair with a towel as he went.

“KLAUS! KLA-”

“ALRIGHT! Bloody hell, will you shut-” Klaus yanked the door open, ready to deliver a few choice words, only to freeze at the sight of the woman before him. Standing on the doorstep, hand poised to knock, blonde tresses elegantly falling down across her shoulders, was-

“Caroline.” Klaus breathed.

She narrowed her eyes, sending him a sharp glare. “Did you not hear me the first time?” Caroline’s free hand landed on her hip, giving her quite the irritated demeanour. Her other arm was occupied, carrying a large white box with eggshell blue tissue paper peeking out the lid.

“Of course I heard you, Caroline.” Klaus rolled his eyes, leaning on the door jamb, gathering back his senses from the momentary surprise. Wasn’t she supposed to be out with Kol? “I’m pretty sure the whole of Mystic Falls heard you.”

“Then why didn’t you answer?”

“Because I was in a shower.” He gestured to himself, to the clearly fresh clothes, the towel hanging around his neck, wet hair curling as it dried. “Though if you’d prefer me to answer the door in nothing but a towel next time I will.”

She blushed, hiding it with a scoff. Klaus smirked, catching it anyway. Caroline glared at him, pushing past him into his apartment. “Look, it doesn't matter. Are you free right now?”

“I haven’t got any plans.” Klaus said cautiously, closing the door behind her with a frown. He turned around, sending her a suspicious glance as she walked towards the living room. “Why?”

“YOUR BROTHER IS AN ASS!” She called over her shoulder.

Right. One of those nights, then.

Read & Review on AO3

[labime]

Klarosummer Bingo Event → Italian Villa → Masquerade Ball.

[withyouandthemoon]

Scream with Your Eyes (and I Shall Hear You)

Written for @klarosummerbingo​ . The prompt is “Babysitting Adventure”, but I guess whatever I wrote into this counts as babies too, sort of ;)

You can also read it on AO3 or FF.net.

Author’s Note: Fairy tale The Wild Swans AU. Some violence with Caroline in a dungeon and some flashback smut, so proceed at your own peril. Also the Silas backstory is different here - he’s just a warlock, and the cure is for him to break his immortality curse. Nothing more.

***

When he bites her she sees the branches of her life.

There used to be so many possibilities, tiny shoots and leaves that even she can’t keep track of, can’t even begin to dream in detail.

But the moment his poisonous fangs are buried into her pulsing artery, they disappear into a void, leaving only two paths tracing into her imminent future.

Life, or Death.

He’s almost tender in such an act of violence, his hand cradling the back of her head, lips soft and scorching pressing down on her skin like a lover’s kiss. The fangs of a hybrid, sharp and willful, dive into her flesh with the familiarity of thousands of kills, and hovers. In that moment Caroline can feel no pain, no fear, just him inside her, his venom dripping into her rushing blood, the faint thrums of his heartbeat, echoing in the bones, under her own skin.

She can’t help but be reminded of those fangs, only hours ago, scraping over the tip of her breasts, just short of breaking the surface. They were eager then, fumbling, barely controlled, an impatient huff of a promise to wreak havoc on her body only through teasing and goading. But now cutting into her deep they are an illusion of intimacy, calculated, cold.

Caroline doesn’t find it in herself to suppress her untimely moan.

She watches with hooded eyes as Klaus withdraw from her neck, his lips still only inches from hers, tinted with her own blood. She can almost see herself reflected in his slightly dazed eyes, but in one blink he sharpens, throwing her back into the hard wall of the dungeon cell with little care. He smiles as she struggles to sit up, wiping away the blood on his lips with a thumb, then licking it with the idleness of a true connoisseur. She knows he tastes weakness and vulnerability – feeds on them as only nightmares would.

“Now sweetheart, I can be very generous when I want to. So I’ll share my secret with you, even when you’re holding onto yours.”

It won’t change anything, though she doesn’t tell him that. It’ll only make him argumentative. Call it bad taste, but she’d rather see him smug and vindictive. It brings just a hint of comedic relief to her bleak situation.

He’s towering over her, exacting his dominance, his voice smooth as silk, “there is a cure to the bite of a werewolf.” He’s looking at her expectantly, smiling like he can barely contain his giddiness.

Caroline rolls her eyes, “let me guess, you’ll give me this alleged cure if and only if I tell you all you want to know.”

“Smart. I quite enjoy that about you.” His silky voice turns to a stream of ice, “but not as much as I’ll enjoy your stupidity.” He knows she’s turning him down.

“Look, Klaus, can I be honest with you?”

“Your honesty may worth less than you think.”

Caroline takes that as a yes, “you bit me. Good for you. But right now, out of the both of us, you are the only one with a choice. If there really is a cure like you just said, then you can choose to save me, or let me die. Either way, my answer stays the same.”

He squints his eyes at her, seemingly intrigued, “and were I to choose the latter, you would be silently welcoming your fateful end? Just like that?”

“Like I told you, my choice was made a long time ago. It has nothing to do with you.”

Klaus huffed, “why do I not believe you?”

“That’s a question you really should be asking yourself.”

A smirk creeps back to his face, “wait until the hallucinations set in, love. You’ll be asking your own mind a lot more questions than I do mine.”

He doesn’t wait for her reply.

***

 Caroline has heard of the infamous werewolf bites. It was one of the first things she learned when she became a vampire.

“Stay away from the sun, any wooden objects, and werewolves. Have fun.” Damon has said to her with all the sarcasm he could muster out of his petty mind. Caroline is very sure that he regrets turning her every moment when he’s not obsessing over Elena, or terrorizing everyone in their village. He only ever saved a human Caroline who suffered a lethal fall from horseback because of her best friend Elena.

Funny how that’s the only reason she’s trying to save him right now.

But not just him. It’s Elena, and Bonnie, and Stefan. The only people she has left in the world.

Although people is a questionable word now that they are stuck in their duckling forms. Caroline laughs humorlessly. She thinks of the fluffy little creatures she compelled a maid of the castle named April to take care of. Their constant little chirps that have more than once given her away when she was trying to stay hidden during her long long journey to this side of the continent. Their warm bodies nestled in the basket that she carried with her for the past year, not a moment apart.

Sometimes she wonders if they recognize her at all. Or if they are just blissfully oblivious, thinking their duck thoughts. Caroline doesn’t know which one is better – which one she expects. She doesn’t go down that road very often, since she has little time for her own thoughts these days, even though other than the four balls of feather that’s all she’s left with. Her, alone with her thoughts, and the fragile hope that hangs in a myth.

vervain.

Caroline would admit it was a brilliant joke on Silas’s part, if she isn’t the one bearing the consequences.

The herb has long since disappeared from the Mystic Land, the name of which most people have never caught a whiff of. Caroline only learned of it when she was first turned. Stimulated by her heightened senses and the fresh memory of death, she was combing through every book she could find, determined to get to the bottom of each and every means to endanger a vampire. She stumbled upon the name vervain in one of the old grimoires that were past down generation to generation in Bonnie’s family, the herb said to be able to physically hurt and weaken a vampire.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stefan tried to calm her down at the time, “no one has seen it for hundreds of years. All the better for us, right?”

She nodded and smiled at his words, feeling relieved. Stefan was the one who taught her how to be a vampire. How to use her senses, how to hunt, how to control the cravings, how to stay sane.

But he certainly didn’t teach her what to do when all of her friends were cursed into the bodies of ducklings by one of the most powerful warlocks in the history of Mystic Land.

Caroline laughs again, this time louder, more hysterical. Maybe the wolf venom is already attacking on her frazzled nerves. She reaches into the secret pocket sewn into her shift, and feels the burn on her fingers. At least all hope isn’t lost. She was very meticulous in her instructions when she compelled April. In the case of her own death, April will try to locate her body and get the vervain to her duckling friends. She doubts Klaus will be bothered with body clean-up.

She’s always been a great planner. It has got her this far. Her friends can put that on her tombstone when they are returned to their former selves. When, not if. Caroline refuses to think about the possibility that her imminent death may not mean anything.

Especially when her short life is going to mount to nothing.

 ***

 Caroline startles awake from the accusing eyes of her father and the crying ones of her mother. The sudden movement brings another fresh bout of pain through her body. Every inch of her feels on fire, her throat dry and parched. She realizes that she’s been reliving the moments when she was first turned, of her parents shunning the monster that was no longer their daughter, the last time she saw them before they moved away without even a note. Moments she’s buried deep into the corners of her mind, in the dark places that she never touches, never speaks of, however they plague her nightmares.

“I see the hallucinations have started.”

She hears Klaus above her, his voice full of complacent amusement. She doesn’t dignify it with an answer.

“How young and innocent,” Klaus hums, “still seeing your human parents in the illusions of your mind. Pity if you have to end the journey here.”

She scoffs even though it hurts her even more, “last I remembered I did not commit suicide.”

“Didn’t you though?” His voice wraps around her senses like the finest silk, somehow cooling down her scorching insides, “infiltrating my ball, seducing me, breaking into the secret vervain garden that my family has kept hidden for centuries, and then not revealing your intentions when very politely asked. I’d say those are quite suicidal attempts.”

Caroline wills herself to look at him, using the last of her strength to keep her head up, her voice now raspy and lined with erratic pants, “twist this all you want, but you are the one who sentenced me to death. I have answered you with honesty.”

“Is that what you call it? Honesty? When you deliberately withheld the truth?”

She huffed, her frustration growing as the pain in her body does, “I can’t tell you right now! That is the truth!”

Klaus bends down then, his face so close to hers she can see the speckles of gold in his blue irises, dangerous, enticing, “right now? What are you waiting for, little vampire? For whoever’s behind your little act of betrayal to rise against me and my family? Will you tell me the truth then?”

His voice is barely a whisper now, almost intimate, but it sends a shiver down Caroline’s spine even when she’s burning from the venom. He’s too close to her secret, too close to her, and the predatory glint in his eyes tells her that he knows. He knows exactly what effect he has on her, if her screams of ecstasy echoing in his chambers just hours before weren’t enough proof.

He tilts his head and lands his lips on her jaw line, the touch feather-light, and Caroline whimpers when he sucks the spot just below her earlobe. She feels weak all over, her head dizzy, and he’s lighting yet another fire in her that has nothing to do with the lethal bite.

“Get off of me,” Caroline grates out, hating the hint of desire in her own voice, “why are you so paranoid anyway? You can’t die. Does it really matter what I plan or not plan?”

His lips leave her, a sense of hollow in their wake, but she should know that he will not leave her alone. Their encounter may have been short – and will probably be kept short at the rate everything is going down – but Caroline can feel how much Klaus revels in exacting control over others. His hands are on her sides, seemingly just to hold her up, but the thumbs circling at the bottom of her breasts is stirring something inside her, and when she involuntarily trembles she only feels them more keenly on her skin.

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t live for a thousand years without learning the dangers of even the most insipid betrayal. Better nip them in the buds.” He gives her a slight pinch almost playfully to stress his point, making Caroline’s already overwhelmed body jerk before falling pathetically back into his clutch.

“Why do you keep using that word?” She glares at him, “I let you take me to your bed. I didn’t swear my allegiance.”

The circles under her breasts are back, slowly making their way down her sides, little flames of fire scorching her ribcage, and each bone they touch stands out in her senses, tender like a sigh.

“Don’t try to play it down, sweetheart. It was a whole lot more than my bed that I took you to.” He licks his lower lip, his eyes hooded for a second, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones that she, for whatever reason, still yearns to kiss, “I particularly liked that chaise in our gallery. Mahogany, very well crafted. The line of that armrest was simply divine.” His fingers roam to the back of her thigh, caressing her through the thin fabric of her shift where that armrest has dug into, “you remember the wood, don’t you?”

“Wherever you took me to, it didn’t mean anything,” she bites out, knowing that it isn’t completely true. She was not supposed to get close to him at all. Her plan was to sneak into the Original family’s castle as a singer for the ball, wait until everyone retired to their chambers, find the vervain, and get out. Klaus was an unexpected distraction, and against her better judgment she threw herself into the distraction with abandon. She remembers his whispers at the crook of her neck while he cages her between his warm chest and the cold marble of the bannisters just outside of his ball room, “you have a beautiful voice, Caroline. But even your silence would be stunning enough. I would’ve picked you out of that sea of dancing imbeciles, and you would still be mine.”

He thought that he picked her, that he was the one who first noticed her, the lowly little vampire singer. Foolish man. It was her who noticed him, the only other person in that grand ball room who needed to be there, but was dreaming not to be.

She was not seducing him. She just couldn’t resist those few moments of escape, for herself, and maybe for him.

But she’ll never tell him now. Not when he is pinning her down with such hatred in his eyes, his face contorted from the rage that he no longer wants to contain.

“I am the King of vampires! Sworn or not, your allegiance should be to me and my family since the moment you were created.” A cold smirk twists on his lips, “but you are right. It didn’t mean anything. You are nothing but a stupid little whore who doesn’t know any better. But let me remind you, sweetheart. One will never betray again when one is dead.”

As he storms out of the dungeon, Caroline briefly wonders if he’s reminding her or himself before she succumbs once again to the never-ending rounds of hallucinations.

 ***

 “Look at you lot,” Silas shakes his head, the sinister smile plastered on his face sending shivers down her spine. She’s paralyzed against the tree he has thrown her into, unable to move even the tip of her finger, when her mind is running wild in thousands of questions and scenarios which she’s sure Silas can see as vividly as if they were his own.

“A baby vampire who shouldn’t have been one in the first place,” Silas idly plays with a strand of Elena’s long hair, snorting at her defiant eyes before sauntering to Damon and Stefan, who are also frozen in place, in their shock and fear, “a rascal who thinks too much of himself, and a lovesick fool. A little Bennett witch,” his eyes are taunting towards Bonnie, “though she clearly doesn’t deserve the Bennett name. Fraternizing with vampires, going after what is mine. What would your ancestors think, little Bonnie?”

Caroline sees the hurt flashing through Bonnie’s face, and her mouth runs before she can even realize what is happening, “probably that she’s loyal and fearless, and will make way better a witch than you, old creep.”

Silas turns to her and her bones chill, “and then there’s you. What are you even doing here?” She can feel the cold sharpness of his magic ruffling through her psyche by now, having been tortured for months by his mind control powers, being kept on edge day and night not knowing what was real and what was just a cruelly-crafted trick. But still it hurts when he throws what he finds in her own mind back at her.

“That one wants an out of vampirism,” Silas points to Elena, “those two want her. Little Bonnie here is just too weak a witch not to be manipulated by vampires. What about you, huh? The cure’s clearly not for you. You can’t fight, you don’t know a single thing about magic, you can’t strategize. Why are you even included in this group of miscreants?”

Suddenly there he is again, her father’s face with Silas’s sadistic features, crushing down on her heart with but a frown, “is it because you need to forcefully babysit your friends to feel a sliver of self-worth? Because you foolishly mistake childish codependency for loyalty? Or because you have no meaning or cause to your pathetic life, that you have to cling onto someone else’s?”

She wants to tell him to shut up. To yell at him that none of those things are true. That he’s a vicious vindictive snake and he’ll never find peace in his after life even if he’s got his cure of immortality back from them months ago.

Yet she can’t. Her mind seems paralyzed just like her body, and all of a sudden she just feels tired. So tired, not only from these past months of hell but all of it. She’s bone-weary like an old person who has seen wars upon wars, and she doesn’t have the strength to utter a word.

“You shouldn’t have crossed me. Messing with an ancient being whose power you can’t even fathom...” A leaf falls on his shoulder. Annoyance flares in Silas’s eyes for a second, and then the leaf is crushed into dust with an invisible force. “It’s been fun, little sitting ducks. But now I’m bored. I’m going to rid you of your oh-so-detested immortality since that’s all you lot have wanted.”

“No you won’t.” Bonnie’s voice brings her out of the haze, and she snaps her eyes as much as she can to see the young witch with an almost triumphant smile on her face.

“Oh?” Silas smirks, “why not?”

“Because you owe the Bennett line. Thousands of years ago it was my ancestor who made that cure for you when you were cursed into your fate, living forever without peace. And in exchange you promised her you would never take the life of a future Bennett or anyone that they deem fit. You will not break your blood oath.”

Slowly Silas turns to fully face Bonnie, “I didn’t expect that you can still surprise me. How did you find out about that one?”

“I have my means.”

A long silence unsettles her for an eternity before Silas’s emotionless voice breaks it, “you’re right. An oath is an oath. But Bonnie Bennett, you should always remember that there are worth fates than death.”

With a wave of his hand she sees it all happen in a blink. Her friends that she has known all her life, the only people remotely near family that she has in this world, exist no longer. In their place are clueless little ducklings, feathers wet, eyes empty.

“See there little Caroline? I find something you can cling onto, forever. Better act fast though, before there’s no return.” There’s a sick smile in Silas’s voice, like turning her life upside-down is just a joke that he would cast aside in mere seconds, “but then again, maybe that’s what you wanted all along?”

 ***

 She’s shaken out of her hallucination this time, the bones in her arms almost fractured under Klaus’s grip. She coughs uncontrollably from the sudden movement, more blood splattering onto her already blood-soaked shift. The pain in her body is excruciating now. Every breath hurt, and every living moment just a long-winded ordeal.

“How did you know Silas?” His eyes are frantic and calculating, but she doesn’t care. She’s going to die anyway.

“You see, that’s a part of the story that I said I can’t tell you.”

“You think you can get away with this? That I wouldn’t make your last moments in the land of the living even more unbearable than it already is? Think again, little girl.”

Caroline snorts at that, even though it only brings on another coughing fit. He can try. She doubts he can top Silas. Caroline is probably more well versed in torture than any other person on this land now. She learned through the best and worst ways that there are – through her own blood, tears, screams, and nightmares.

Suddenly she’s angry, the fury burning even hotter than her body temperature, “you know what? I think exactly that. The only thing that you have done so far is coming down here every time I’m finished with a round of these bullshit hallucinations, knowing fully well that you will get nothing from me. Why are you really here Klaus? To taunt me, or to check up on me?”

Klaus bites his teeth so hard his jaw locks into the most elegant line that she’s ever seen, but it doesn’t appease her. Not right now, when all the pent-up frustration she has with her fucking life and her fucking situation is blowing up like a raging storm.

“Tread very carefully with your words, love.”

“And why would I do that, when I’m apparently going to die, and you’re being the stupidest jerk there ever is?”

“That’s enough!”

“No!” She takes a second to catch her breath, her body so weak she can’t even scream at him properly. And miraculously, Klaus let her. His eyes hard as steel, but his eyelashes tremble in the tiniest motion when he sees her wince from the pain. “I’m the one who’s suffering from your bite, so if anyone’s going to say it’s enough it’s me. Admit it Klaus, you don’t want to hurt me, but your stupid pride wouldn’t let you stop doing that.”

Klaus balls his hands into fists, “oh I will hurt you however I want, sweetheart, for plotting against my family, against me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you this before you get it through your thick paranoid skull that I’m not plotting against any one of you!”

“Yet once and again, you withhold the truth.”

“For reasons that don’t concern you!”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“Yes!”

The word is out of her mouth before she hears the weight in it. She’s asking him to trust her, no strings attached, and based on what? A few shared looks while she was singing at his birthday celebration? The acts of passion in a hedonistic night where supernatural creatures find one way or another to feel alive in the confines of this ancient castle? The barely intelligible whispers and lingering touches, searching eyes and answering kisses, while he was inside of her? How can any of that be even remotely enough, for someone as jaded and guarded as him?

But she finds hope digging out from unknown parts of her heart, painfully.

She expects scorn or distain, but she doesn’t expect him to pounce on her, one hand pushing her into the cold hard wall, the other clutching onto her thigh where her shift has ridden dangerously high. She can feel the hint of wolf nail biting into her, breaking skin and flesh.

“You dare ask for my trust,” the hand starts creeping inside the hem of her shift, sharp nails slicing all the way up to the end of her thigh and Caroline finally starts to panic. But just as he grazes the edge of where he has devoured her in the middle of the night, the fingers turn to grab onto the secret pocket that she sewed to her shift, “when you have your secret stash hidden right here?”

Her breath hitches. So he knew.

When he caught her in the wee hours of the morning in his family’s vervain garden, covered in blisters and burns, her hands still sizzling, she had already got enough vervain stuffed in her pocket. She thought she’d escaped his prying eyes since he never brought it up during her imprisonment. Until now.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” He presses the vervain-filled pocket deep into her thigh and Caroline hisses from the pain. But Klaus doesn’t even seem to notice, his fingers digging so hard into the cloth she’s afraid he’ll break it, “you stink of it. I’ve been waiting to see when you’ll confess – if not your sob story behind all this trickery, then at least what you have wrongfully taken. A betting game with myself, if you will.”

Caroline looks into his eyes, and sees the acrid bitterness eating him inside. For the first time since she’s been thrown into the dark dungeon she feels saddened. How pointless, to always be betting against yourself. However much he wins, he loses all the same. His face is distorted with a myriad of expressions ebbing and flowing, ones that Caroline isn’t sure even he himself can interpret. He seems cornered, lost, fatal. It reminds Caroline of the moment he finds her in the vervain field, his hair tousled and shirt lose, revealing a him that only few has really seen.

“Klaus...” She tries to reach out to him with her bloodied fingers but he bristles.

“Tell me this, love. Did you keep your little stash to fund whatever curse you and yours have been concocting, or to prevent me from compelling you?”

Caroline freezes. The coven she sought out to solve Silas’s riddle didn’t tell her that. They tormented her, sent her jumping hurdle over hurdle like their lap dog, yet they failed to mention that the Originals had the ability to compel other vampires. And now she’s again paralyzed in place, with Klaus’s hand just one slight tug from ridding her of a sane mind. Something that she’s sworn she will never subject herself to ever again.

“Klaus...”

“Is that fear I smell on you, love? Much better than the bloody vervain, I’ll have to say.” He rises then, his hands withdrawing from her so devoid of thoughts or emotions, as if she’s already lifeless, meaningless. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take it from you. It’s too easy, and I happen to enjoy a challenge. But make no mistake, Caroline – no matter what you say or don’t say, this ends in only one way. You, buried six feet under, with what you stole from me.”

 ***

 Caroline leans her forehead to the cold glass, her eyes half-closed, the sea of candlelight beneath her too bright to handle in her post-orgasm daze. Her body is still shivering uncontrollably from the last high that he pushed her onto, her boneless hands having nowhere to grab but to wind up in his surprisingly soft curls in between her barely standing legs. In her peripheral vision she can see Klaus smirking so smugly while licking his lips, the hint of wetness on his chin shining.

“Count, sweetheart.”

“Two,” she breathes out, her brain straining to remember what he’s referring to. When the band started to play this particularly intricate piece he whispered in her neck, “nice number, a long one. Let’s see how many times I can pleasure you before it ends, hmm?” She didn’t expect him to be so literal.

 “Good girl,” he gives her oversensitive bud another lick. Caroline’s body jerks, one hand flying up to clamp on her own mouth trying to contain the moan, the other floundering to reach for any edge she can hold onto.

“Careful there, love,” Klaus steadies her around the waist, caressing her so sensually another moan almost leaks out of her tight fingers, “wouldn’t want any one of them to find out.”

They are currently in the recess of a giant stained-glass window overlooking the entire ballroom, above all the people dancing and chandeliers burning way after midnight. Klaus led her here through one of the secret passages built into their castle hundreds of years ago. She doesn’t know how many girls from how many balls he has taken to this exact spot, but she doesn’t really care either. Her mind is blissfully detached, just like her body, away from the rest of the world. But somehow she feels the most in tune with herself in months, or maybe years, focusing on nothing other than not letting out too loud a scream, and not falling from her precarious position half standing half leaning against the round surface.

“Let them look,” she bites back a whimper when Klaus’s nimble fingers tease her entrance.

“Tough little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckles and the sound goes straight to her center, clamping onto the void his tongue has left, “saying things like that, when you are blushing down to your breasts from the shame. Such a pretty color.”

A finger thrusts into her. Caroline lets out a strangled groan, her hips chasing after his movements out of their own will.

“But maybe you truly don’t care. Maybe you’d like for them to watch,” his finger slides in and out of her so smoothly she can hear the sound of her own wetness, “hundreds of eyes looking up at you, while you have your legs wide open, breasts out, panting and moaning like the wanton little vixen that you are. Would you like that, sweetheart? For them to strain their necks and worship you, all those eyes of greed and jealousy examining every inch of you on display, just barely out of their reach?”

He adds another finger, and then another, until she feels so full, so stretched out, the only thing she can sense is his presence in her. The softness of the fingertips, hardness of the knuckles, pressing, grazing, rubbing, pinching. Consuming her. She bites on her lips so hard but still moans and whimpers are pried out of her, only just covered by the music.

She can still taste him in the back of her throat.

“You make the most delicious little noises. No wonder you’re a singer. Always responding so beautifully to the music...but not as much as you respond to me.” he pumps in and out of her, building her up, and he knows exactly how to unravel her into an incoherent mess, always moving against the rhythm of the melody, hitting all the right spots at all the wrong times. It drives her crazy.

“I’ve wanted you like this ever since I saw you on that stage. You were the most magnificent thing, love,” he presses down on that sweet spot inside her and Caroline keens, “just standing there singing your song like nothing else existed, while my brother murdered the band one by one. You don’t know how much I wanted to tear your corset open right there and see if you could still keep on singing, for me.”

Caroline’s upper body jolts up when he suddenly swallows her clit between his full lips.

And he doesn’t relent. Soon Caroline is panting so hard she can see stars behind her eyelids, her whole body shaking from the waves upon waves of pleasure. She’s so close, and she knows Klaus can feel it. With a wicked smirk he leans up to palm one of her breasts, while his lips and teeth latch on to the other.

“Oh you look divine, love,” he says while rolling his tongue around her nipple, “remember to count three.”

“Shut up and get me there,” she grinds out, but the last word is cut short when he pinches her nipple and her clit at the same time.

“Happy to oblige, my lady.”

He starts pumping her so fast it almost burns. But oh does it burn good. Caroline can barely take it with his assaults on multiple fronts. She’s drowning in all the sensations building higher and higher still, her body writhing and head thrashing uncontrollably, a string of “yes” and “there” and “don’t stop” flowing out of her in a blur. In the complete frenzy one of her legs slides off the edge of the recess, dangling above all the dancers below them, but she doesn’t have one bit of strength to lift it, too overwhelmed by her release just hanging over the precipice.

“That’s it sweetheart, give it to me,” he kisses her hard and rough, his lips molding into hers so perfectly swallowing all her whimpers and barely-contained screams.

She’s tightly wound like a bow string, her toes trying in vain to balance the slipper on her dangling feet. It can’t fall. But she needs to fall. Free and hard into the sweet abyss that’s looking right at her. So close. She feels conflicted and desperate, all thoughts and feelings warring inside her making her sob into his shoulder that she’s been clinging to in a death grip.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he coos at her, brushing the tears at the corner of her eye, his eyes suddenly tender and telling, “let go.”

So she does. She comes so violently her body nearly snaps. Waves of never-ending pleasure crash into her, breaking her all over only to put her back together again. She doesn’t know how much time has passed, shivering in her haze. until she realizes that Klaus has hitched her once dangling leg onto his elbow, hand holding her blue slipper safe in its place. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of her foot as he lays a sweet kiss at her ankle.

“And that’s three.”

 ***

 She’s been drifting in and out of hallucinations, whose border with reality is blurring by the second. It’s been...how long? A few hours? A few days? The pain is clawing at the seams of her bones, the fire of venom still burning her insides, but the hallucinations she’s getting are more mellow now, more memories than nightmares. Even good memories, soothing. Freeing.

She guesses that’s a sign that she’s knocking on death’s door.

“Why are you still trying to trick me?” Klaus asks her, leaning on the door of her cell, his arms crossed in front of his chest in a semblance of boredom. But his eyes are boring into hers, the blue so dark now, almost black, with sparkles of gold. He looks beautiful, but against all odds, scared.

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is too weak, that even he with the superior hearing has to come closer. Or maybe he just wants to be near her even when hatred is burning both of their insides, albeit in different ways.

“This. Moaning my name, pretending to hallucinate about me. If this is all you’ve got, then I’m sorely disappointed love.”

“I’m not tricking you.”

“Stop. With. The lies.” He bites every word with a vengeance, like they physically hurt him, “you can put on a show like the cheapest hooker in a brothel and it still won’t save you.”

“I’m not expecting you to.” She knew from the start that she wouldn’t be spared. Why would he? She carried a secret to his home, gave him a night of pleasure, and then she stole from his family. That’s all this is to him. A trifling nuisance that he must have seen countless times in his years. It’s nothing new. And he’s not going to act any differently.

Relentless. Heartless. Evil. That was what the coven told her about him. Right after they finally revealed to her that to save her foolhardy friends she had to bathe them in freshly harvested vervain, which could only be found in one of the most dangerous places on the entire Mystic Land.

“And you can’t tell another soul about this,” the head of the coven told her then, gloating amusement in her eyes at the tragic fate of a vampire. “Or your friends will forever stay in the form of ducklings. Remember, vampire – not a word.”

Day and night the secret’s been eating piece and piece at her life, her thoughts, her sense of self, until she is only a shell of a person. Sometimes she would hold duck Bonnie up in her palms – she’s the only duckling that has shown a modicum of affection to her. The little ball of fluff, her only connection to the world. Warm and fuzzy and biting in her hands, so unbearably fragile and ignorant. Once in a while the thought of giving up slithers into her mind, giving her one moment of illusion that she might be free. Afterwards she always beats herself up inside, shame and guilt of her selfishness crushing her.

Maybe, just maybe, she should thank Klaus. She’s finally at the end of her journey, and for once the outcome is out of her hands.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he’s coaxing, “it’s not too late yet. Tell me the truth, and I promise you’ll live.”

She huffs a laugh at that, “we both know that’s never going to happen.”

“Then you’ll die.”

“Yes, another young vampire with a shorter life span than a human. It happens.”

“You seem oddly calm about all this.”

She ignores the question in his words, “if I had known I’d die in a dungeon, I would have taken some more time walking in the sun. It’s so dark down here, I don’t even know what time of the day it is.”

“It’s dusk. The sun was just about to set when I came down here.”

She’s surprised that he willingly offered that piece of information, but she doesn’t let it show, “that sounds beautiful.”

“And you can still see it. A thousand sunsets, and more. As long as you tell me.” There’s earnestness mixed with urgency in his voice. Something Caroline can’t quite understand, but doesn’t have it in her to dwell on.

“Stop trying so hard, Klaus. I have already told you,” she tiredly draws in a shaky breath. “I have made my choice. You just have to make yours.”

He kneels down beside her then, holding her up carefully, looking into her eyes. She looks back with all the honesty in her soul. She has nothing to hide now. So she gives him all of it. The weariness, the fear, sleepless nights and restless days, the loneliness carved into her bones; Her hopes, her dreams, everything that she knows she’ll never have in life. All of it. She doesn’t avert her eyes until his flutter shut, a whisper echoing in the darkness that traps her. 

“I can’t.”

 ***

 She’s floating in a void of darkness, without any sense of her existence. The pain’s gone, so are the imageries swirling in her mind. Nothing is there, maybe not even her.

Is this what death feels like?

But then she tastes it. Warm and pungent and bitter, as if life itself on the tip of her tongue. She clings to it, nails and fangs.

Long moments pass as she sucks and swallows on instinct, barely recognizing the hand caressing her hair, let alone the tremors of it.

When she releases his wrist with the gnarled wound, she asks quietly, without turning to him, “what changed your mind?”

She hears and feels Klaus sighing into her hair, “I don’t know.”

She simply nods, still a little disoriented. Now that she’s not dying, she has so much to see to. Sooner or later she needs to confess to Klaus, which might turn into a long discussion or even several fights about the foreseeable future, and before that she has to go take care of her duckling friends. But for now she’s satisfied with staying in his arms for a while longer, away from the missions and puzzles that life keeps throwing at her. She burrows herself into her temporary escape a little deeper, glad that Klaus seems no more eager to let her go, his arms circling her tight and close.

She looks up at him with a smile that hasn’t appeared on her face for much too long, suddenly giddy and hopeful, “now how about that sunset?”

He sighs again, this time with a hint of a smile that almost matches her own, “I’ll admit – you have very persuasive eyes, sweetheart.”

[bellemorte180]

Prompt: Picnic for @klarosummerbingo

The summer breeze passed over them lightly, creating a pleasant break from the warm sun. The pages of their leather bound books turned slightly, causing Caroline to lose her place within the words. She was laying down upon the long blanket that she had spread out in the middle of the field, petals from the purple and pink flowers fell over her with gentle caresses. She could feel the hem of her long white flutter around her ankles.

“My brother loves you, you know.” Rebekah’s voice said from beside her, pulling Caroline from her pleasant dozings. Caroline turned to look at her friend, a young woman who Caroline had played with as a child, chasing one another through the same field they now picniced in. Rebekah was in a long, soft blush dress with bare shoulders hidden behind her golden locks and a flower crown in her hair. She reached down and picked up the glass of wine, bringing it to her lips, sipping at the sweet and cold drink before reaching for a piece of cheese.

“As I love him.”

“Mother thinks he is going to make an offer for you.” Rebekah said with a coy smile on her lips, doing her best to appear smug at the concept. It was no secret that Rebekah had always wanted a sister, despite the fact that she did not get on well with the other girls in the village outside of Caroline. All of the Peirce sisters set her on edge, especially Elena. “Won’t planning a wedding be exciting!?”

“You honestly think he’ll ask?” Caroline asked hesitantly, sitting up on the blanket and staring at Rebekah. It was true that her and Klaus had been dancing around each other since they were children but they were still so young. Caroline was barely eighteen and Klaus had just celebrated his twentieth birthday. Young marriage was not uncommon in their village, a simple life filled with berry picking and plucking eggs from the chicken coops. If she was honest, when she curled up in bed at night, she imagined what a life with Klaus would be like. She imagined small children running in a stone cottage. A garden in the back and a barn filled with all sorts of animals.

“I’m certain of it. He walked down the dirt path to speak with grandmother. You know she only likes visitors on holidays and special occasions. He asked for that pearl ring and that would count as a special occasion.” Rebekah said as she reached into the basket and pulled out a piece of the crusty bread they had brought along. Summer picnics were one of Caroline’s favorite activities when she was not busy with chores or house cleaning and when Rebekah suggested a picnic that afternoon, Caroline could not say no.

That and Ayana always packed them the best lunch.

“Has he told you about any plans? When is he going to ask? Do you think he will ask before autumn?” Caroline fired off her questions at a rapid speed, nearly knocking over the bowl of grapes that were resting beside her as she shifted to look at Rebekah more. “It is the beginning of summer now and if I am to plan a wedding I would hope to have it before the weather grows cold!”

“You’re going to say yes.” Rebekah exclaimed with a loud giggle. Her excitement was clearly written on her face and in her bright blue eyes. “We’re going to be sisters!” She clapped her hands and reached for her, bringing her into a tight hug and refusing to let go. “I don't know what he is planning. At all. Mother just has a suspicion but Klaus has seemed a bit nervous and on edge.”

“He shouldn’t be.” Caroline whispered, a soft smile coming over her lips and a bundle of nerves growing in her stomach. The thought of marrying Klaus was not a new one but she did not think that he had any plans to ask her. She was not Elena who had marriage offers by the time she was seventeen, she was just Caroline.

All she had was Klaus.

She wanted it no other way.

“Maybe you won’t have to wait long. Look.” Rebekah pointed over Caroline’s shoulder, causing her to turn around. Klaus was walking through the field, his fingers brushing over the tops of the flowers.

Unable to help herself, Caroline pulled herself from the blanket and rushed towards him, her bare feet running along the dirt ground. Klaus’s face lit up, a dimpled smile growing on his lips. Caroline launched herself into his arms, Klaus catching her easily. Her laughter rang all the way down towards the small picnic and Rebekah smiled gently at the sight. The love that passed between Klaus and Caroline was potent, like the flowers that swayed in the summer breeze. Klaus spun her around and then sat her back down onto the ground but continued to hold her in his arms.

His head bent towards hers, touching their lips together in a soft kiss. Their kisses were always gentle with a hint of passion that was always threatening to topple over. She was innocent, wanting to avoid a scandal that would quickly travel through their village. Knowing that Klaus wanted her, not just intimately but as his wife was enough for Caroline to consider tossing the virtue she had been taught to hold so dearly away.

“You seem happy.” Klaus whispered to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She could feel his smile on her skin and Caroline just breathed in the scent of him. He pulled her close and Caroline buried her face in his chest, silently willing him to ask her the question she was now dying to hear. “What is it that has you smiling so widely?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You. The future. Everything.” There was a spark behind his blue eyes, almost though he wanted to press her for the meaning behind her words. Yet, Caroline just stood on her tip toes and kissed him again, silencing him. While she wanted him to ask, she also wanted to see what he would have planned for such a proposal. So, for now, Caroline was willing to wait, something she was not known for, and allow Klaus that moment. “Come. Join us. Ayana packed strawberries and I know you love those.”

Caroline gripped his hand, pulling him through the field and towards their blanket that was spread out on the ground. Klaus sat down first and Caroline happily positioned herself on his lap, his arms going around her to hold her close. Rebekah beamed at them, appearing as though she was about to burst with happiness.

Caroline could only hope that Klaus did not wait too long, because she could not wait to call him husband.

Review at A03

[supremeuppityone]

This was written for @klarosummerbingo  and is the sequel to Chapter 148 in A Beautiful Symmetry. King Niklaus is quite bold with his intentions toward Lady Caroline. However, not everyone agrees with his latest decision...

Warning: Some Klaroline sexytimes. And a bit of violence and angst.

Prompt: “One swallow does not make a summer, neither does one fine day; similarly, one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.” ― Aristotle

           Must she always make such a spectacle? A curtsey was quite wobbly when barefoot upon the roughly-hewn landing, and Caroline clumsily grabbed the newel post to keep from falling. From the chuckles hastily covered by coughs in the foyer below, it was obvious that the king and his retinue noticed her artless attempt at a proper greeting. “Your Majesty,” she mumbled, cheeks pinked in the afternoon light. She caught his openly wanton gaze, reminding her that such royal titles had become part of their lusty games.

           She spied his brother Finn, the high-handed Lord Chancellor, stone-faced despite Klaus’ obviously jovial mood. Klaus often grumbled at his brother’s fussy ways, but begrudgingly admitted that Finn presided admirably over the Privy Council, ensuring the various aspects of the kingdom ran smoothly. After a pointed look from Klaus, Finn heaved a great sigh and directed the rest of the guards to various points outside of the manor.

           With a theatrical flourish, Finn announced, “We’ll leave you to your...amusements. Have a pleasant afternoon, your Majesty.”

           “I dare say our amusements will be quite pleasant,” Klaus smirked, not giving his brother a backward glance as he raced up the stairs to twirl Caroline in his arms.

Please read and review the rest here.

[klarolinefallbingo]

Klaroline Bingo!

Klaroline Fall Bingo

Welcome to Klaroline Fall Bingo, 2020! Bingo entails requesting a board containing five rows and five columns of autumn themed prompts. You can post just five or all twenty-five. You can even request a second board if you want!

Request a board anytime between now and the end of the event! 

All prompts can be a rating of your choosing. Please tag and label appropriately.

Each square contains a prompt to theme your creation. All Klaroline creations are welcome, including drabbles, gifsets, aesthetics, fic recs, graphics, manips, moodboards, videos and anything else you can imagine!

Additional content to existing work IS accepted, cuz why not?!

If a square has a quote, please use it within the item you create for that square.

You can request a bingo card from this blog or my main blog, @Eliliyah.  Just send an ask or a message.

You can start requesting a card whenever you like.

Posting begins October 15th and runs until November 15th.

Be sure to follow this blog so you won’t miss out everyone’s creations!

Traditional bingo rules apply - five squares in a row, including diagonally, wins a bingo.

Within the first few tags, please tag your creations as #klarolinefallbingo

Feel free to forward us any posts so we can reblog your contributions individually!

Once you’ve completed a full bingo card, you can request another one.

Fantastic Prizes: Once you earn a bingo, you will be showered with once-in-a-lifetime gifts such as eternal bragging rights and virtual high fives. We would offer to draw you a lovely portrait of your accomplishments, but we have no talent with things that don’t go click-click. Please accept our humble apologies and heartfelt praises.  

Special thanks to @supremeuppityone ​ for allowing me to blatantly steal her design from @klarosummerbingo ​!

[hope4love]

I figured pick the hardest squares and go from there ... Had no idea what to do with the medicine wheel. This is what I came up with :)

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Waterfall || Taw'um Alruwh

@klarosummerbingo​

Warnings: some violence and mentions of Damon’s abuse of Caroline. Nothing graphic.

Caroline fluffed her curls, getting them to sit just right as she stared into the water’s reflection. Some would consider it impractical to trek all the way out to the Falls to fix her hair, but...

The young blonde bit her lip. But there was something about what she saw when she looked into the water. She saw herself, of course - and maybe it was just some odd light refraction illusion - but she always thought what she saw appeared a little more confident. As if the version of her in the water was just a bit stronger and wiser.

Whatever, so it was a little silly, but it wasn’t like she was hurting anybody. It was just the town legends getting to her, that you could see your true self in the Falls.

The chime of her cellphone pulled her out of her thoughts. 7:25 its clock announced cheerfully, and she knew she should get going. Caroline gave her hair one last pat and winked at her reflection. 

“Wish me luck with the other brother, kay?”

She whirled around, heading back toward school, a slight bounce in her step.

Caroline Salvatore had a nice ring to it, didn’t it?

---

Her chest screamed in agony, and she couldn’t process if it felt like it was burning or freezing. If it was being crushed or split open.

Her breaths were ragged and wet, the taste of copper on her tongue. Was she dying?

I don’t want to die!

She whimpered, the words only sounding in her head, her lips twitching uselessly.

The roar of the falls was in her ears and still the formation of the rocks funneled his voice to her.

How could she have ever thought she wanted that-that monster.

He was laughing at her. As if her death was amusing. Crowing about how she took care of his cleanup for him. Why it wouldn’t even be an animal attack. Just another sad teen suicide.

Her tears were burning against her face that was rapidly going numb and cold.

I don’t want to die...

---

Caroline had lived a very long time. Centuries upon centuries. Long past anyone she had come to care for, human or supernatural. They all left her in the end, either taken from her while she was elsewhere, by foolish enemies that would pay for their crime thrice over, or by their own will, wishing to take their final rest.

She didn’t begrudge them that, though it made her existence rather lonely. Loves had come and gone. Friends and partners and companions. So, selfishly she took the most comfort in herself. Catching glimpses of the other lives she could have led.

Never though, had one cried out so strongly that she could hear them. 

The voice was young, so young, and dying. Dying while having barely lived at all.

Caroline frowned, unthinkingly reaching out to the dying girl, and to her surprise, she fell through the water.

---

“Hello, Caroline.”

She blinked rapidly, unsure how she had gone from dying to...whatever this was. There was nothing but blackness and one other figure. And she forgave herself for her no doubt idiotic expression considering said other figure was herself!

The other her smiled, looking a bit amused. And Caroline bristled at the apparent condescension. She opened her mouth, about to snap something rude, but they read her irritation and their expression became a bit apologetic before smoothing into solemnity.

They spoke hurriedly before she could.

“I wish I could better explain things to you, Caroline, but you don’t have much time. Your body is still dying and once it does you’ll lose this opportunity to choose.”

“Choose? Choose, what?” Caroline’s brow furrowed, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Is this like Harry Potter?”

They looked momentarily confused before recognition sparked. “I suppose that is somewhat accurate, yes. Unfortunately you cannot return. You are human with no magic of your own, I am sorry to say that you’ll just pass out again and die. Truly, this time.”

Caroline frowned, the hope she hadn’t even realized was blossoming crushed in her chest. She crossed her arms, glaring at them. “Then, what? You’ll go?” She meant it sarcastically, but at the slight shift in the other her’s face, she shrieked. “What, is this body snatchers?!”

“No, our bodies will swap places. Mine is not human and will survive the process, while yours will be destroyed.” She spoke quicker, cutting off Caroline’s indignant questions about what the point would be then. “Your soul however is strong enough. It will be able to pass through.”

She was still confused and frustrated. “But you just said that your body will be going to where I am.”

“There are infinite versions of you Caroline and infinite worlds for them to inhabit, as is the case for everyone. Your soul will find its best match.”

Appalled, Caroline retorted, “I’m not going to steal someone’s life!”

The other her stepped closer, expression soft and a bit proud. “It won’t be theft. Two souls can’t occupy one body, wherever you end up, that version of you will have already passed on. Now, I understand this must be a lot for you to process and it’s a momentous decision, but you’re almost out of time.”

As if her words were a signal, the blackness surrounding them seemed to crack and shudder.

Panicking, Caroline began to ramble, words tripping over themselves. “Okay, okay, so like second chances. You go to me. I go to like some coma patient version of me or something. And no one gets hurt? They’re already dead. I’m basically almost dead. And-and you’re whatever you are?”

“Yes,” they nodded.

Caroline ran shaking hands through her hair and took a deep breath.

I don’t want to die.

---

The ancient woman kept her eyes closed through the journey, though she felt her arrival. Water and rock and blood suddenly assaulted her senses where there had been unnerving nothingness before.

With the last connection she had with that odd nexus of worlds she sensed that the other her had also arrived safely. She even got the impression that good things awaited her.

Good luck.

Even as part of her was wishing the other version of her well, the rest of her was processing the events that had occurred in this world. Perhaps, it was a bit duplicitous of her to not have warned the young girl that she would get a semblance of her memories, but she didn’t want to be clueless. And there had been no time to offer the necessary reassurances. 

Standing up, Caroline squeezed the water out of her hair, absently noting she would also need a change of clothes. Above her, the cackles of some obnoxious young vampire cut off.

He flashed down, severely invading her personal space as he stared wide-eyed at her.

“That’s impossible!” He spat. “You were dead.”

Caroline’s lip quirked. “For centuries now,” she drawled.

He spluttered. “But I compelled you! You were just some useless, weak little girl!”

Her amusement quickly faded, events the girl herself hadn’t known had happened flashing through her mind.

Expression dark, her arm shot up to crush his throat.

She had no tolerance for rapists.

He dangled in her grip, weakly clawing at her arm as he choked. She contemplated tormenting him, the type of suffering she could bring down on his head.

But then she thought of the girl he had assaulted and chased to her death. The happiness that girl now had an opportunity to have. Recalled ancient memories of her own beast of a husband. The being she had become after her friend defied nature to help her. And she decided she and the girl both deserved better than to dwell on this cretin.

“Feel fortunate,” she told him. “You’re not worth my time to torture.”

With no fanfare she plunged her other hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. She didn’t bother to watch the light fade from his eyes, simply chucked both his corpse and heart into the woods like the trash he was. 

Let the animals have a feast.

---

Caroline twirled her pen, wondering for the millionth time how the other Salvatore could tolerate going to school. She had to be here because the whole town knew who Caroline Forbes was. Mass compulsion wasn’t worth it when she was choosing to stay.

After all, there was an unusually high occurrence of supernatural drama here and she wanted a front row seat. At least that part was interesting. Plus, she considered it a bit of a homage to the other version of herself that she carried out some of the gril’s dreams. And winning Miss Mystic Falls was actually somewhat amusing.

Not to mention the worried murmurs she had overheard from the rest of her “friends”. Originals? Doppelgangers? Curses? This supernatural world sure had some fascinating things.

And with some fantastic acting (if she did say so herself) she passed herself off as an accidental turning in the aftermath of what Damon had done. (Oh my god! He-What did he do to me? What’s happening to me?! Please, don’t kill me!) 

It certainly won sympathy points from Elena and her disdain for Damon got Stefan to be, at least publicly, quiet about his concern for his vanished brother. It also helped that no body was found.

Caroline smirked, amused by her own thoughts. Those animals sure ate well that night. 

Still, despite supposedly being a new supernatural now, the others mostly kept her on the outer edges of their drama. Perhaps as some misguided attempt at protection. But while it made information gathering a little harder, overall it made her life more convenient. The less time she had to spend acting like a teen aged girl the better, really.

Her eyes shot up as Alaric walked into the room, pen now still and firmly gripped in her hand. Her instincts were blaring that something was off.

She watched with curious eyes as the man asked what they were learning, flipping through one of his notebooks. Odd. Alaric leaned toward the disorganized side, but he rarely forgot his lesson plans.

One of the girls in the front row, Dana she believed, reminded him that they’ve been covering the 60′s as the silence stretched.

“Right. The 60′s,” he repeated, still not sounding particularly prepared.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him spend a long moment staring at Elena, an abnormal interest in his eyes. It didn’t seem to be lecherous, and Alaric hadn’t sent that type of warning bell ringing, but if she was wrong...

Her grip tightened, near cracking the plastic shell of her pen.

“The, uh,” he coughed as he turned to write on the board. “The sixties.”

Her eyebrow rose as she watched the man literally write ‘The 60′s’ on the board. That was useless.

“-wish there was something good I could say about the sixties, but...” He turned around, continuing to fail at teaching. “Actually, they kind of sucked. Except for the Beatles, of course. They made it bearable. Uh, what else was there? The Cuban missile thing, the uh...we walked on the moon. There was Watergate.”

Elena apparently took pity on the man.

“Watergate was the seventies, Ric. I-I mean, Mr. Saltzman.” She hurriedly corrected as several people stared.

“Right. It all kind of mushes together up here, the sixties, seventies. Thank you, Elena.“

And though Caroline continued to observe the man, he didn’t do anything else suspicious save lecture with little coherence. Continuing to mention random things that occurred in the sixties. Seeming to just list them as they came to mind.

At the end of class, she waved the others on when they glanced questioningly at her, mouthing that she had a question as she gestured toward Alaric.

Leaning back against one of the front desks, she watched as the man shuffled some more papers around. Managing to read some of the print, she was pretty sure he was just trying to get rid of her.

Too bad. 

Clearing her throat, she called, “Mr. Saltzman?”

He looked up, a quickly smothered flash of irritation on his face.

“Yes, what is it?”

She cocked her head, wondering how she was going to play this. She was around 98% positive now that this was an impostor. Possession, illusion, shapeshifting, something to that effect. And if it were any of those things, even if he had an informant, he couldn’t know much about her. Being on the outskirts was once more to her benefit.

Well, I was just complaining about boredom...

She rushed forward, slamming the man against the chalkboard, her forearm pinned across his throat. There was shock and barely hidden rage in his expression.

Her eyes dilated, noting with rising interest that she couldn’t compel him.

“What are your intentions with Elena? Are you some kind of pervert?”

---

Whatever Klaus had been expecting from the blonde baby vampire it hadn’t been this.

Although her audacity was rather infuriating she hardly knew who he was, and her reasoning was arguably admirable. He did value loyalty after all.

So, deciding to go along with it, he reminded her he was on vervain. Then, made up some nonsense answer about being particularly concerned about Elena, name dropping himself as a reason.

Her eyes were still narrowed and suspicious, but she backed off after a moment, letting him fall from her grasp. His landing was awkward with a little stumble in order to maintain his ruse.

She smiled at him, a surprising and delightful amount of malice in her expression. “Of course, Alaric. Rest assured though, if I discover you lied to me and you have nefarious reasons for watching Elena...Well, let’s simply say I will delight in feeding you your internal organs. For decades, if I have to.”

With a little parting wave, as if she hadn’t just delivered a gruesome (by human standards anyway) threat, she turned and strutted from the room.

Klaus leaned back against the chalkboard, staring after her, a little intrigued despite his better judgement.

Perhaps, he should start looking into backup vampires? He might actually regret killing that one.

---

Making her way down the hallway, Caroline processed what she had sensed when she tried to compel definitely-not-Alaric.

Vampire and wolf.

A hybrid.

Her eyes flashed gold as a smirk curled on her lips.

Fascinating.

---

Author’s Note: Title is “Twin Spirits” aka “Soulmate” in Arabic the closet I could get to Egyptian which has one of the oldest stories involving the concept. Ancient Greece does as well, but I’m trying not to repeat the languages used in the titles. (Viaggio and Cuore Malato don’t count since they were technically the same story). 

Considering how this one turned out, I’m quite pleased that “Twin Spirits” really fits though: both soulmates and parallel selves. Also, if you’re curious, I imagine the formerly dying Caroline went to some All Human AU where she’ll get her happily ever after with that version of Klaus ;) I’m a sap, what can I say?

[labime]

Klarosummer Bingo Event → Hiking in Peru.

[thetourguidebarbie]

Watermelon - @klarosummerbingo

“It looks like they’re really letting in the riff-raff these days,” Rebekah drawled, peering over her sunglasses at a pretty blonde he’d never seen before who seemed to be charming the bartender between licks of a watermelon-shaped popsicle, her cutoffs emphasizing her long, tanned legs. He hadn’t been back at the country club since he’d started uni overseas, too focused on the lacrosse team and the possibility of never having to come back to Mystic Falls again. 

Honestly, he didn’t mind riff-raff. Enthusiastic gold diggers weren’t the worst thing in the world when he wasn’t going to be back. 

The blonde seemed to sense them watching, and turned to face them, shooting Rebekah a smirk before her eyes landed on him, her eyebrows raising. She gave the popsicle what could only have been a deliberately provocative lick, one that made him take an embarrassingly sharp breath, and Rebekah whirled around to look at him, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare. She’s the enemy.”

“The enemy?” Klaus asked, refusing to tear his eyes away from the blonde’s tanned legs. “Whatever for?”

“She’s the other finalist in the tennis tournament. Getting cozy with her would be betrayal, Nik,” she hissed.

“Perhaps it’ll make her go easy on you. After all, you don’t seem confident you can win on your own merits. If riff-raff can best you perhaps you don’t deserve that tennis scholarship, no matter how mediocre the institution.”

“USC is a good school, Nik.”

“Yes, and I’m proud of you. Mother didn’t even have to bribe anyone. Well, as far as you know, I suppose."

Watching his sister bristle had to be one of his favorite things.

He had a feeling having the pretty blonde in his bed would be even more satisfying.

[klarosummerbingo]

Klarosummer Bingo Event

Hey Klaroliners!!! We’re hosting a Klarosummer Bingo Event for the month of July!

Some of you already have requested your bingo cards to get started and we can’t wait to see what you have planned!

For those of you who haven’t reached out yet, the bingo cards will feature prompts with summertime themes.

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If a prompt has a quote, please use that quote within the item you create for that prompt.

One prompt per creation (i.e., please don’t combine several prompts into one drabble, aesthetic, etc.)

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Traditional bingo rules apply (five squares in a row or five squares diagonally earns a bingo.)

Within the first few tags, please tag your creations as #klarosummerbingo and tag us within your post @klarosummerbingo​. You also can send us a link to your post so we can reblog. (Please let us know if we missed your post — we want to celebrate everyone’s work!!!)  

Please post your creations anytime between July 1st and July 31st, 2021.

Once you’ve completed a full bingo card, you can request another one.

[withyouandthemoon]

Finally done with my first prompt of Klarosummerbingo. Slow and sloppy, yes, but I'm totally patting myself on the back.

[lalainajanes]

This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

 Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow,  and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.