Ocean’s Eleven/Ocean’s Eight AU. Right after his release from prison, Klaus violates his parole by travelling to California to meet his partner-in-crime and friend Marcel Gerard to propose a heist. He hasn’t thought of anything else during his pleasant stay behind the bars, so now his plan is perfectly flawless: it consists of simultaneously robbing the three big casinos owned by the heir of an old money family, Tyler Lockwood - dragging his name and whole patrimony through the mud. The reason? Klaus’ ex wife, Caroline, is now Tyler’s pretty trophy girlfriend – and this definitely calls for retribution.
What Klaus doesn’t know, though, is that Caroline herself has been working on a plan to take revenge on Tyler for the past five years. She has resources of her own, and it hadn’t been difficult to find out who exactly was to blame for her ex husband’s jail sentence. And, despite their past shortcomings, Caroline is nothing if not loyal - and what better way to vent her frustration about her failed marriage and unresolved feelings, than to destroy the very man who dared infiltrate their relationship?
She can only hope that Klaus won’t misunderstand her part in all of this…
*-*-*-*-*
Marcel found him studying the blueprints of the Bellagio, a full glass of liquor forgotten to keep the sheet from rolling back. Furious, he crossed the room and slammed his hands over the paper with such force that the ice cubes inside the glass clinked against it.
“Tell me this is not about her, or I am walking. I am walking off this job right now.”
Klaus didn’t even bother to raise his head. “Who?”
Marcel narrowed his eyes. “Caroline. Tyler Lockwood. Tell me this is not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your wife.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Tell me.”
Klaus sighed. “It’s not about that.” His best mate snorted, stepping back from the table, and Klaus finally looked up at him. “It’s not entirely about that. Marcel, do you remember what we said back when we first got into this business. We said we were gonna play the game…”
Marcel stole his glass and downed it in one sip. “Like we had nothing to lose.”
Klaus nodded seriously, a muscle darting in his jaw, and his voice felt like gravel when he spoke next. “Well, I lost something… I lost someone. That’s why I’m here.”
Something passed between the two of them, the need for words irrelevant as they always somehow knew what the other was thinking before such thoughts were even fully formed yet. Marcel must have understood the gravity of the situation as well as the honesty of his partner, because he capitulated with a groan and an half-uttered curse.
When he finally sat and dragged the blueprints towards him, Klaus relaxed and smirked a bit. “So, how did she look?”
This time, it was Marcel who didn’t raise his head. “She looked good.”
KLAROSUMMER BINGO PROMPT: I Really Want to Kiss You
AN: Canon compliant to a point. There was never a Hollow, but Hope did still attend the Salvatore School because Hayley and Klaus thought it would be good for her to be with other children like her (or as like her as they could be).
For my bingo card prompt: I really want to kiss you.
Warning: SMUT, 18+ Only Please
Many would have called it a guilty pleasure, for a time she had labeled it as such, but to utilize such a phrase now implied that there was something to be guilty about and that was most assuredly not the case.
There were still moments when she labeled it a guilty pleasure, but it was never accompanied by the hot flush of her first admittance when Elena had accidentally knocked a well-worn paperback from her pillowcase during a sleepover.
She and Bonnie had giggled and blushed with her while asking timid questions about the cover and contents.
That was nearly twenty years ago.
Such novels had long since ceased to inspire feelings of guilt.
The one she was currently reading had been a gift from Elena; the brunette had slipped it into her hand a few hours before the plane departed, knowing how hard she still found it to adjust in alternate time zones.
After ten years of non-stop travel she should have figured it out, but the first few world-wide trips had established a routine that she followed to the letter, checking off each as she did them.
Board the plane and enjoy the inflight movie (read as: allow inflight movie to minimally distract from impending landing and jiggle her foot until he held her leg steady)
Disembark the plane.
Check into the hotel (or more often than not some insanely luxurious villa he had in his vast holdings)
Eat dinner.
Sleep. (read as: bury nose in a romance novel until she was too tired to keep her eyes open and then sleep)
Wake up.
Enjoy their latest location.
Visit the witch contact and receive bad news, or some other name that they would proceed to chase down.
The last two were interchangeable. Sometimes they located the witch first and then enjoyed the area while waiting for the next flight.
She knew he would have loved to have spent more time in some places – he had once promised to show her the world. She doubted this was what he had in mind, but he never complained.
He knew she had a limited amount of time to locate a solution, and that if their situation were reversed he would have torn the world apart in his quest to save Hope.
He showed her the world by leading her to each of his witch contacts, and when none of them panned out he took her to theirs, and theirs… and theirs.
The kids thought they spent their time recruiting for the school, but they weren’t.
A very small part of her envied his ability to quickly adjust and sleep during hours meant for sleep. He never had to sit up while his body and mind wound down.
Her eyes flitted across the page, faster as the action picked up. Each word describing the heroine’s naughty deeds fueled a heat in her blood. Normally her books left her with only a faint feeling of dissatisfaction that could be put off until the morning, but this one was too good.
She didn’t know if she wanted to thank Elena, or smack her for giving her the book that led to her current state.
She supposed she could have just put the book down when things started getting spicy, but she had been hooked with the first sentence.
And how could she not finish the chapter where they were on the damn widow’s walk of her best friend’s house?
She had to know if they were going to get caught, and if it led to certain thoughts about a certain hybrid on a certain balcony overlooking the empty public courtyard so be it.
Except those thoughts, and the novel were leaving her hot and bothered in a way that couldn’t wait, and in a way she definitely didn’t want to take care of herself.
She peeked over the top of her book to the bed, dragging her eyes over his sculpted torso.
“Klaus,” she whispered, “are you asleep?”
When she received no response she silently unfolded her legs and stood from the armchair, depositing her book on the bedside table as she approached.
Her head tilted to the side, listening to the steady sound of his resting heart; she considered for a moment and then yanked his Henley over her head, dropping the material on the floor.
A beam of moonlight broke through the clouds and her eyes caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror, clad in black lace. She considered removing the undergarments as well, but the image of him slowly pulling the thong over her legs with his teeth or ripping the scant underwear to shreds in haste stilled her hands.
“Klaus,” she whispered, leaning down.
“Hmm,” he shifted, rolling from his side to his back; the sheet slipped, revealing the ‘v’ at his hips.
Her eyes flickered over him, and she had to resist the urge to bury her fingers in his sleep tussled hair. Instead she dragged her nail lightly up his abdomen while carefully kneeling on the bed to straddle his waist.
He stirred as her hand came to rest on his cheek, but was still asleep when her lips pressed to his.
At first his response was slow, drunk on sleep as he was. Then she lowered her hips, rolling down, and swiped her tongue over the seam of his lips.
His hands circled around her body, fingers tracing her spine.
She nipped at his bottom lip and he came awake, flipping them over and pinning her to the bed while deepening the kiss.
She drew in a ragged breath when he pulled back and rested his forehead on hers.
“What was that for?” His eyes met hers.
“I really wanted to kiss you,” she shrugged; a coy smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
He lifted up on his elbows, cocking an eyebrow. “You woke me up like that,” his eyes flickered over her face, “because you wanted a kiss.”
“Mmhmm,” she nodded.
He balanced on one elbow, and dragged his hand slowly over her thigh, listening as her heart jumped.
“You woke me up,” he inhaled slowly, eyes flashing gold, “smelling like you do because you wanted a kiss?”
She nodded and ran her tongue over her teeth.
His fingers reached her panties and nudged the material to the side, dipping into her body.
“Soaking wet,” he crooked his fingers, “and you wanted a kiss?”
She moaned, tipping her head back and shimmying in an attempt to get more of him inside of her.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he withdrew his fingers and dragged them over her lip, “is a kiss the only thing you want from me?”
“Well…” she sucked his wet fingers into her mouth, using her tongue to clean them before releasing with a pop. “Now that you mention it…”
She planted her hand on his chest, pushing him over onto his back and straddling his waist again. Her fingers skimmed his chest on a downward path to where she could feel him straining against his boxers.
“There may be one other thing…” she slipped her hand into his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his length, pumping slowly.
Her thumb swiped over the head of his cock, spreading pre-cum; he closed his eyes and hissed.
His fingers unhooked her bra, dragging the straps down to free one arm, but the lace caught at her right wrist. He caught a nipple between his teeth, causing her to groan and thrust her chest into his face.
“You,” he pressed kisses around her breast and up to her neck, “woke me in the middle of the night to make love.”
“We can do that,” Caroline sighed, “but first,” she let go of him and lifted his chin with her fingertips, “I want to fuck.”
“Really?” He chuckled.
“Yes,” she tossed her bra across the room. “My book got me all hot and bothered.”
“I take it that means you’re in no mood to be teased?” His eyes sparkled.
“Obviously not,” she scoffed.
“What if I really want to ‘kiss’ you?” He flipped her onto her back and dragged the tip of his nose down her stomach.
“So long as you don’t tease,” she rolled her eyes, “and you’re going the wrong way for a kiss.”
“Am I?” He glanced up, meeting her lidded eyes.
That was the only warning she got before he ripped her thong and bent to ‘kiss’ her, making her arch as he sucked hard on her clit.
She buried her fingers in his hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp. He was good - there was no denying that - but after devouring half of the novel in one sitting her blood pumped fire through her veins, urging her to her peak much faster than normal. It approached fast until she could all but taste it on her tongue. A few more seconds of acute attention and she would fall over the edge; a few more seconds.
He pulled back.
She panted, descending from that glorious edge fast and more frustrated than when they began. She had to blink a few times before the room came into focus and she was able to comprehend the remorseless twinkle in his eye.
“I said I didn’t want to be teased,” her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“I never agreed to that, love,” he chuckled, dipping his head to kiss her hip. He nipped the flushed skin with blunt teeth.
“Klaus,” she drew out his name, hating the pathetic whimper overtaking her voice. She was supposed to sound commanding, but damn it, he did things to her body that turned her into a quivering mess.
“Yes,” he hummed. He planted a heavy hand on her hip and made his way up her stomach, taking time to kiss around her breast before catching a pert nipple between his teeth.
Caroline moaned, spreading her legs wider to accommodate his body. Her hips rose until she came into contact with him and then moved in search of friction.
A growl rumbled through his chest, but he made no move to stop her, and as he moved to her other breast he rocked with her, rubbing hard against her clit and through her folds until the fabric separating them was covered in her arousal.
He nipped at her throat, licking the spot and pressing a line of kisses up her neck.
“That,” his hot breath fanned across the shell of her ear, “must have been a very good book.”
She lifted her leg, grazing his side with her thigh.
“I didn’t finish,” she hooked the band of his underwear with her toes and dragged down. “The beginning and middle were excellent though.”
“Obviously,” he pressed her hips into the bed with one hand and kissed her.
She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, nipping. He responded by exploring her mouth with his tongue.
Her toes made it to his calve before she had to stop because her leg refused to extend any further.
He kicked off the material. A shapely thigh hooked over his waist, flipping him onto his back.
“A little eager?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“I said I didn’t want to be teased,” she tilted her head. Her left hand splayed over his chest while her right snaked between them, lining him up with her entrance.
She sank down, clenching around him as she did.
He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist as she began to move and establish a rhythm. He could tell she was becoming lost in the motion after a few moments and took advantage of her distraction and shifted.
Her spine the mattress and she gasped, folding her legs around his waist. He lifted one leg higher, further opening her to his thrusts. He could feel the way her thighs quivered. Her fingers snaked between them. He moved her hand to the bed and brought his fingers to the apex of her thighs, pressing his thumb against her clit; he stroked in time with his thrusts, smirking when the rise of her hips faltered.
Caroline moaned, fisting the sheets. White overtook her vision and she clenched around his length, fluttering wildly. She heard him murmuring something against her throat, but in the midst of her release she missed the words.
The meaning was clear though when he switched to long slow strokes.
She caught the back of his neck, urging him up so she could kiss him.
He pulled away an inch, breathing against her mouth.
“Better?”
“Mmhmm,” she nodded. Her leg slipped back to the bed when he moved his arm. Her fingers explored his back.
Slowly, she altered their positions until she was on top. Then she lowered her head and nipped at his throat, working her way up until she bit his earlobe.
There were times when they spoke words ranging from sweet nothings to downright sinful words that made her shudder and moan, but as they moved together then and there they lapsed into silence broken only by moans and joined breath.
When they finished and she rolled to his side she smiled as he pulled her close with an arm around her waist. Twenty years ago she never would have labeled Klaus as someone who liked to cuddle, but nine times out of ten he was the one to gather her in after sex, or even just in the middle of the night.
“I definitely needed that,” she laid her head on his chest.
“Glad I could be of assistance,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. He listened to her heart slow and let his fingers dance over her hip, drawing abstract patterns into her skin.
She lifted her head a few inches, glancing at the hands on the clock.
“Caroline,” he caught her cheek with a finger, turning her to face him.
She swallowed, lowering her eyes to his tattoo. Her fingers traced the edges of the feather. She could feel his steady gaze silently urging her to speak.
“Thirteen,” she reached the top of his tattoo and traced the opposite side. Just thinking about the sheer number made her stomach clench around a ball of ice. “Thirteen witches in three months.”
“Somebody somewhere has an answer,” he kissed the line between her eyebrows.
“What if they don’t?” Her mind fluttered with anxiety. “What if nobody knows anything?” Her fingers curled around his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as her emotions spiralled. “What if I’m wasting what time I have with them hunting for a solution that doesn’t exist?”
“What if you’re not?” He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. “There’s always a loophole. Your life is steeped in evidence of that very fact.”
“What if this is the one thing without a loophole?”
“What if you stopped asking ‘what if’?” He teased. “Evidence suggests that it’s a curse, and every curse can be broken; all we need to do is figure out how.”
“With less than six years…”
“What happened to the woman who refused to take no for an answer?” He combed her hair behind her ear. “What happened to the woman who proves everyone who doubts her wrong?”
“It’s three am,” she nodded to the clock, “she’s tired.”
“Well then,” he kissed her cheek, “get some sleep sweetheart. I’m sure your optimism will return in the morning.”
Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.
Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.
It's an affair for the ages.
Written for Day 5 of Klarolin week- Smut.
Thank you, @klaroline-events!
She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew it was wrong, but she honestly didn’t care. She was a married woman and the man she was straddling in the back of his limo as it drifted down New York’s busy streets was most certainly not her husband. Granted, the life they all lived, what could be considered right anymore?
“Are you sure these windows are tinted?” Caroline hissed out, pushed down upon his clothed erection. It wasn’t the first time it happened. Her affair with New York’s most notorious mob boss began months ago. It started out as a power play for him and a way for her to try and feel something; anything. Neither one of them could have imagined that it would have become more than just sex for them. “Klaus?”
Niklaus Mikaelson, the most feared man in the entire city; one who ran not only drugs, weapons, and woman but had more blood on his hands than anyone else, was in love with her. It was an intoxicating feeling.
“I would never let us be seen, Sweetheart. Not yet at least.” Caroline smirked at him and kissed him hard; her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Her hips rotated again, searching for some friction in order to relieve that pent-up tension she was feeling. It had been far too long since he had been able to touch her. It wasn’t easy for Caroline to sneak away in order to meet her lover, especially when she and her husband are well known in the city; that and in the last few months Stefan had been having her followed.
The marriage between Stefan and Caroline Salvatore was an arranged affair. They both came from very old families who wanted nothing more than an alliance. So, the corrupt Chief of Police married her only daughter to the brother of an even more corrupt "businessman". It did not take Caroline long to realize that her husband was dull, horrid in bed and was in love with his brother’s wife, Elena. Stefan looked at Caroline as nothing more than a possession and barely spoke to her.
Klaus’s finger tips traced up Caroline’s spine while her black backless dress bunched at her waist. His fingers sent shivers all over her body. When he went to lace his fingers through her impeccable up-do, Caroline stopped him.
“Not the hair. I can’t go home looking freshly fucked, now can I?” Caroline replied, nipping playfully at Klaus’s lips. “We still have to let Stefan think that I am his faithful and dutiful wife, don’t we?”
“I can have you widowed by morning, love. Just was the word.” Klaus replied, his hand slipping under her dress. His fingers graced her clit, her panties had been long forgotten on the limo’s floor. Caroline hissed out his name again. He added a slight pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves just as his lips graced her throat. His tongue peeked out and licked her pulse point. “He would be dead and I could easily make you mine.”
“But your plans?” Caroline whimpered. Klaus slipped a finger inside of her and pumped lightly. Then he added a second finger before curling him, his nails scraping the side of her walls. His thumb touched her clitoris and began drawing circled on it while his fingers slowly fucked her.
“Fuck my plans.” Klaus hissed, his fingers pushed in roughly, causing Caroline to cry out. “I don’t like that he gets to touch you. I don’t like that he gets to fuck you when you’re mine. I want his head on a stick and my plans already changed once.”
It was true. When Klaus and Caroline started sleeping together, he was using her to get intel on the Salvatore family. He originally planned on revealing his affair with Caroline to Stefan in due time after getting everything he needed in order to take down Damon Salvatore. Caroline knew this and in truth she didn’t care. She hated her marriage and screwing over Stefan and Damon was enough for her; even if it meant getting herself killed.
However, when Klaus started falling for Caroline, he shifted his plans. He did not want to risk Stefan getting enraged that his wife was fucking his brother’s rival and killing her; they didn’t call Stefan the Ripper for nothing. So, they changed course.
“He hasn’t.” Caroline whimpered out, grinding down on Klaus’s fingers. He looked at her in question, a smirk playing upon his lips. “Stefan and I haven’t had sex in months, not since I caught him in bed with Elena.”
“Really?” Klaus hissed. He removed his fingers from her and Caroline cursed at him. He just grinned at her, bringing one finger to his lips and licked it clean before doing the same to the other. “You wouldn’t just be saying that so I will go easy on you, now would you?”
“No.” Caroline weaved her fingers through Klaus’s hair, gripped and pulled his head back. She looked down at him, peering into those pearly blue eyes she adored. He kissed him slowly, tasting her juices on his lips. “He said that he was glad I knew and that he didn’t have to pretend with me. He made his opinion very clear. Stay the pretty little wife on his arm while he fucked Damon’s behind closed doors. In return I get to keep my head upon my shoulders.”
“He threatened you.” That was unforgivable to Klaus. “The increase of bodyguards?”
“Just to ensure I don’t spend too much alone time with Damon. Can’t have his brother learning his dirty little secret.” Caroline tossed him a sinful smile and Klaus bucked his hips upward, rubbing roughly against her core. “Pity Enzo is employed by someone other than Stefan.”
“Good man Enzo.” Lorenzo St. John, Caroline’s personal bodyguard and double agent. Klaus hired him to infiltrate the Salvatore business. When he was assigned to guard Caroline, even better. The problem was that Enzo was only one of Caroline’s guards that was Klaus’s man; the rest where loyal to the Salvatore brothers. “And what are you and Enzo up to tonight?”
“Dress shopping.” Klaus chucked at that.
“Such a pretty dress.” His one hand running over the dress, touching her erect nipples through the silk. “It would be a shame if it got ruined.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Caroline ran her hands down Klaus’s chest, slowly inching down farther and farther. When she reached the top of his pants, she bit her lip as though asking for permission to continue. Klaus nodded his head and Caroline unbuttoned his pants, allowing his member to spring free. She palmed him, causing him to hiss at the contact. She gripped his penis and stroked him, picking up the pace as she went. Klaus grabbed her wrist, stalling her movements.
“I want to be inside you.” His tone was rough and harsh, causing Caroline’s arousal to seep down the inside of her legs. She lifted up on her knees ever so slightly, giving Klaus enough room to align himself with her entrance. Slowly, Caroline lowered herself down on top of him; seething him into her heat completely. “Fuck Caroline.”
“That’s the general idea.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and began raising herself up and down on top of him. The feel of him, sliding in and out of her was a feeling she missed the last few weeks. Ever since Caroline had concrete proof of Stefan’s affair, it was harder for her and Klaus to meet; Stefan’s paranoia driving him to do drastic things to protect his secret. But, the feel of Klaus fucking her was worth the wait. “God, I love you.”
“And I you.” Klaus’s hand reached down between her legs to touch her clit again. Caroline cried out his name, loudly. She began to ride him faster and faster, chasing that relief. His name slipping from his lips like a prayer. The sound of the honking horns of New York’s traffic fell away and she could care less if Klaus’s driver knew exactly what they were doing in the back of the limo. All that mattered was finding that release. “Klaus!”
Klaus felt her walls clench around him, sending him spiraling. His release came hard; spilling himself inside her. Caroline let out a long breath and rested her forehead against his. Slowly, once their hearts stopped beating rapidly, Caroline moved off of him and into the seat next to them. Klaus tucked himself away into his trousers while Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse to clean the inside of her thighs. She shifted in order to drape her legs over his lap and Klaus immediately began drawing small circles on her skin; sharing smiled between them as he did.
Soon enough the limo pulled to the side of the curb and the driver knocked on the window separating them from the front of the car.
“I suppose that this is my stop.”
“You’ll be safe?”
“Don’t worry.” Caroline leaned over and kissed him gently. “Damon is in a board meeting tonight” which was code for murdering someone “while Stefan and Elena are probably at the house fucking each other while I’m out spending Stefan’s money. By the time they realize I’m home, I’ll be in my bubble bath, drinking a nice glass of Pinot Grigio. Bags and bags of my shopping spree littering my room.”
“Thinking of me I hope, while you’re all naked and wet.” Klaus’s eyes traveled over the length of her and Caroline just giggled. She leaned up and kissed him, before grabbing her purse on the floor. Klaus grabbed her wrist before she could open the door. “Soon Caroline.”
In the end, things came to a close far more quickly than either of them expected. Within the next three months, Caroline would discover she was pregnant with Klaus’s child. Knowing that she would not be able to pawn the child off as Stefan’s, not that she would want to, Klaus had to act quickly. Photos of Stefan and Elena in an intimate position surfaced, causing Damon to go off the rails. He murdered both his brother and his wife, brutally. By the time Damon spared his sister in law a thought, she had already left and was in Klaus’s protection-handing over all of the secrets Damon worked hard to keep buried.
On his TV show, Klaus Mikaelson rescues failing restaurants. In all his experience, he’s never encountered a hidden gem quite like Caroline Forbes.
.
Klaus had seen a lot of failing restaurants in his day. It was absurd to him that he'd built a career on revamping these places for a television show, especially when he missed running his own kitchen. But he'd found a niche and some small celebrity, and he did enjoy the opportunity to grind the egos of bad owners under his heel.
Damon Salvatore, however, was proving to be in a category all his own.
"I shouldn't have to explain why it's necessary to order fresh produce when what you already have spoils," he bit out, pinching the bridge of his nose. The prat just stood there, his arms crossed in defiance as he tried to explain about the costs he'd been cutting. Stefan, the brother who actually had to cook the food, at least managed to look remorseful. "If these are the choices you're making, you deserve to go out of business."
When the brothers started to argue their case, Klaus stormed out of their office. He didn't care what they had to say; nothing excused sacrificing the quality of their product, especially at the expense of their customers' health.
It was unfortunate, too, because Giuseppe's Italian Eatery had some of the best desserts ever seen on the show. The place was a local haunt with comfort food and a homey presentation. The patisserie, though, was technically perfect and beautifully plated. While he might have been concerned to have such a disconnect between the dinner and dessert menus, Klaus pored through the numbers his own staff had compiled in their pre-show research. If anything, their pastry chef was a draw in and of herself.
In Klaus's particular opinion, Caroline Forbes was far too good to be working for the Salvatores.
Too annoyed to put up with the brothers for another moment, he made his way to the kitchen. As he expected, it was mostly empty but for the woman leaning heavily on a rolling pin as she flattened out a disk of dough. "I thought everyone went home to clean up for dinner service."
Caroline glanced up before focusing once more on her task. "Everyone else doesn't have to worry about laminating puff pastry for the dessert special tonight," she explained. "If I don't get enough layers folded into it, the apple tarts won't flake right."
"Can't have that," he teased. When she bit back a smile, his own spread wide on his face. He sobered at the attention she paid to the evenness of her dough, however. "You're a more dedicated employee than Damon Salvatore deserves, that's for sure."
She opened her mouth to answer - in kind, he assumed - but she seemed to think better of it. Pressing her lips together, she finally met his gaze with a stony frown. "Look, your critiques were fair," she said, likely referring to the dressing down he gave both brothers for the quality of the dining experience they were trying to sell. "More than fair, even, since Damon is the absolute worst and refuses to take any of my suggestions for actual efficiency. But Stefan is a friend, and he's a good cook when he doesn't let Damon handle the grocery list."
Klaus shrugged, leaning back against the opposite counter as she stared him down. "Maybe so, but Stefan doesn't appear willing to part ways. How long do you think this place lasts if they won't take my advice?"
Sighing, Caroline took to folding her dough in careful layers before wrapping it back up. "This is one of two restaurants in the area," she said. "I think it'll last, it'll just be miserable for everyone if things don't change."
"You wouldn't have to stay," he pointed out. "I could connect you with chefs all over the country, several of whom would take your skills in a heartbeat. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make sure you get there."
Her eyes were wide and shining, like she couldn't believe he was real. "Why do you care?"
He crossed his arms and regarded her carefully. "You're good, and you deserve better than Giuseppe's. Where did you train? And don't feed me some Southern drawl, granny's kitchen sob story. You've been taught, and taught well."
"Grandma Forbes absolutely passed down a recipe or two," Caroline retorted. "I also went to school in New York for a bit."
That made him frown. "Most patisserie schools have a high placement rate for those who finish."
She let out a shaky breath, which only made him frown more. "I didn't finish," she answered simply. "I was needed at home, so here I am. Stefan was nice enough to let me wreak havoc on his menu, the one fight with Damon he won."
"A well-picked battle," Klaus nodded, gently sidestepping the personal details she alluded to. "Damon doesn't strike me as the type to be reasonable in any scenario."
"He gives me hell whenever I demand the good chocolate, but I always get it." With a wicked grin, Caroline turned to place her dough in the refrigerator. "I bug the crap out of him because he knows he can't fire me. Some people only come here for dessert, and that's all me. It drives him nuts, which is a fringe benefit, really."
Chuckling, Klaus couldn't resist a fond smile at her petty tone. "You could always start your own place, rid yourself of the Salvatores altogether."
But she hesitated again, all humor drained from her face. "No, it's too big an investment. I take some specialty orders on the side, Stefan lets me use the kitchen here during off hours, since I usually clean it better than his crew. This is fine for now."
"You won't leave because home needs you, but you won't establish yourself on your own terms? I'm confused, love." His first impression of her had come with blazing glares and biting remarks. She wasn't a woman who scared easily, even when faced with a seasoned professional and his biased camera crew.
Her smile was a weak, rueful thing. "I don't know if you know this," she said, her voice dripping with irony, "but restaurants are an expensive business. Bakeries, too. A lot of them fail, some so badly that a TV show comes in and tries to save them from themselves."
"I've heard something to that effect," he noted drily.
"I don't make a lot," she admitted, "but I'm comfortable, and that's enough for me. For my mom."
Understanding washed over him like cold water, and all Klaus could offer was a sad nod. "Home needs you," he repeated, far more kindly than he did before. "You're still too talented for Giuseppe's."
Caroline laughed, looking far more comfortable than he felt at the realization he was going to have to leave her to this small town life. "It's this or the Grille, which is better suited to loaded brownies and ice cream sundaes. I do make pies for them, though."
"Of course you do." While he thought she could do so much more, he had no doubt Caroline Forbes exhausted every opportunity available to her in Mystic Falls. "If you change your mind," he said, privately hoping she would do so quickly, "feel free to give me a call."
She accepted the card he offered, but not without some skepticism. "Do you do this at all the restaurants you help? Pick the pretty girl and try to talk her into following you across the country?"
"You're very pretty," he agreed with a grin. "You're also an excellent pastry chef. I assure you, I usually leave my producer's card for the people I meet while filming. That's my private line for people I actually want to call. And," he plucked it from her hands to write on the back before returning it. "That's my personal cell, if you'd care to have it."
Slipping her tongue between her lips, Caroline shook her head. But he was relieved that her mouth pulled up into an easy smile. "Smooth. I see why they gave you a TV show."
He smirked. "I'm here for the weekend, flying out on Monday. Perhaps I could tempt you for breakfast before I go?"
"You'll have to be smoother than that," she replied. He really did mean just breakfast, but he liked that her mind considered him for more. Still, he was relieved that she pocketed his card all the same. "Let's see how the weekend goes first."
Nodding, Klaus promised himself he'd do his best to make Giuseppe's a better place for her to thrive. All else aside, Caroline deserved at least that.
There really was no two ways about it, Klaus Mikaelson was a diva.
A prima donna, even.
There was an urban legend in the theatre industry that once, while rehearsing his role as Beast in Beauty and the Beast, Klaus opted to sit his dressing room, rather than ‘save’ his leading lady from the wolf attack at the beginning of act two.
“I was just throwing the moron to the wolves,” Klaus allegedly said smugly, to the rightly irate director.
Yep, he was biggest drama queen in the theatre industry.
All who worked with him agreed Klaus was actually a soprano in a baritone’s body. Though they would never say it to his face. Nope, to his face, all were perfectly lovely.
Because, no matter how many three-year-old-esque tantrums he threw, or crazy demands he slung at a company, or assistants he fired, Klaus Mikaelson was still the best.
Contemptuous he may have been until the very last second, but once he was under the spotlight, he was magic.
No note, nor line was missed. His honey voice caressed every ear like a lover. His impeccable acting could bring to life every character from King Herod to Jean Valjean.
So naturally, when casting for a reinvigorated West End production of Phantom of the Opera, whom else was to set to play the titular character?
Rehearsals certainly weren’t easy for the crew.
The nature of the show meant already two divas needed to be cast for the roles of Christine and Carlotta. How were they to cope with a third.
But they had managed to make it to opening day without too many scuffles until –
“What the bloody hell do you mean Bonnie’s in the hospital!?” Klaus roared. “Who is going to do my make up?”
“Have some compassion, Niklaus!” Elijah, Klaus’ brother – who also happened to be his manager, (and what was more pertinent, the only one who could make any sense of a tantrumming Klaus) – sighed. “She is in the hospital, after a car accident!”
“We are opening in three and a half bloody hours, Elijah! I refuse to have my Phantom butchered by some blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out, playing face paint, just because Bonnie decided to have an accident!”
“Oh be reasonable,” Elijah snapped, though made the mental note to tell Ms Bennett just how indignant Klaus was about working with anyone else. Surely that was some vote of confidence? “She was hit by a car!”
Klaus glowered, but didn’t return fire. Even Klaus, diva or not, knew car accidents were bad.
“There are two options,” Elijah said, after both men had a moment to calm themselves. “You can have your makeup done by the associate head of make up. This will require you to leave your dressing room, and join some of the other cast members.”
“I don’t mingle with the peasants, Elijah,” Klaus pouted, petulantly. “They chatter and natter about inane things, and I cannot focus on what is important. Which is the work!”
“Fine! The second option is you trust Bonnie’s substitute. A Ms Caroline Forbes, currently the head of artistry on Broadway’s Phantom of the Opera.”
Klaus rolled his eyes intensely. He hated Broadway. He hated working on Broadway. And with people who worked on Broadway. And just people in general, but that was beside the point.
“Brother, my feelings about Broadway aside, I’m not sure if you’ve seen a globe recently. But this is London. Not New York City.”
It was Elijah’s turn to roll his eyes – honestly maybe it was time to quit, and live as far away from Klaus as possible.
“I’m well aware of the geography, Niklaus,” Elijah groaned, rather uncharacteristically. “Ms Forbes, an old friend of Ms Bennett, is currently visiting London. Had tickets for tonight’s show, in fact, so is very well placed to aid us tonight.”
“Fine,” Klaus grumbled, after a moment of contemplation – though there wasn’t much to contemplate, no make up was so bad that he would endure the blather of other cast members. “This Broadway woman will have to do. But I refuse to be pleasant to her.”
“I would expect nothing more of you, Niklaus.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door of Klaus’ dressing room.
“Ahh, that will be her.”
“You did not just approve her to come backstage before consulting me brother!” Klaus growled.
“Well,” Elijah said, buttoning his suit jacket as he stood up, an air of finality in his tone. “As you so eloquently put it, brother you’re ‘opening in three and a half bloody hours’, there really isn’t any time for your arguments.”
Elijah strode away from the sulking Klaus, and greeted the woman on the other side of the door.
“Ms Forbes,” he said politely. “Please come in, and thank you so much for this, the company is indebted to you.”
“Please, call me Caroline,” Klaus heard a bright, cheery voice say, though she was still blocked from his sightline. “Anything for Bonnie!”
“And how is she after the accident?”
“Shaken,” the woman said, her bubbly voice suddenly laced with worry. “Her injuries are mostly superficial, but her arm will be in plaster for the next few weeks.”
“I see,” Elijah said, before they both came round the corner, and Klaus was able to get a good look her for the first time. “This is Niklaus.”
“Hi!” she said, smiling a smile so bright, he should have been wearing sunglasses. “Caroline.”
She held out her hand for him to shake, but Klaus just looked spitefully at it, before looking away.
Klaus couldn’t believe his misfortune. She was a blonde bimbo.
“Right,” Caroline said, a little disheartened, as she withdrew her hand.
“Anyway, Miss Forbes, I’m terribly sorry, but I have to dash. The world does not cease for Niklaus, although he’d like to believe it would. I’ll catch up with you both later.”
The two of them chuckled together, much to Klaus’ chagrin, and then Elijah left, the same way Caroline had just arrived.
“So,” Caroline said, sitting herself daintily beside him. “You and Bonnie have been working on some pretty cool techniques for your look.”
Klaus said nothing, just stared pointedly at her.
“She took me through her plans for tonight, anything you –”
“We actually open very soon, and I would very much appreciate it if you just got on with it,” Klaus snipped. “Though try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”
“There’s no need to be rude,” she said, as she raised her eyebrows coolly. “I was just going to ask, if there’s anything you wanted to tell me before you get started. Latex allergy, warm ups that need doing, that kind of thing.”
“No, nothing to share,” he muttered. “And as if I would need to do warm ups.”
“Okay!” Caroline said brightly, trying to ignore his cockiness. “Then let’s get –”
“I do warm up, but not near the help,” Klaus interrupted. “If you want a free show then go back to Broadway.”
“Yep, I get the picture. I’m just going to –”
“Urgh, the quality of Broadway is nothing on the talent of those of us on West End.”
“Mmhmm, I understand, Broadway is the worst. But please –“
“In fact, I swear Broadway casting directors just goes to Times Square and nab any old riff-raff street performer to make up their ensembles. It’s lunacy _”
“Uh huh, I get it, Broadway suck, but Klaus I really –“
“I’m literally the best in the country. I have won multiple tony awards, even a grammy award. I have more original cast recordings under my belt than –”
In years to come, Caroline would swear herself black and blue that it was an accident. That it was a mere, yet mildly severe, slip of the hand brought about by loss of concentration because of Klaus’ continual ramblings.
And she would never live it down. But she would also be revered by many because she actually managed to make Klaus Mikaelson shut the hell up for once in his life.
For, at that exact moment, Caroline’s deft hands wiped fast drying liquid latex over Klaus’ mouth, and Klaus, who was completely stunned by the movement, did not move quickly enough before the latex dried.
Sealing it completely shut.
“Oh my god, Klaus, I’m so sorry!” Caroline said, with all the correct emotions. She certainly sounded convincingly mortified, until she followed up the with a quirked eyebrow and the comment, “though, try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”
And, to Caroline’s amazement, Klaus stopped squirming, stopped trying to form words when his amplifier was completely blocked, and Caroline was finally able to get to work.
“What a happy little accident,” Caroline said, jovially, now a little more at ease that he wasn’t being so obnoxious. “Might just snap a little picture, I’m sure Elijah would appreciate it.”
Klaus narrowed both his eyes at her.
“Oh? Don’t like that idea?”
Klaus just remained stock still, the menacing look still etched on his face.
“But you are so cute when you’re not talking!” Caroline joked, before quickly realising what she said, and going a lovely shade of magenta.
Somehow, Klaus managed to smirk, even without full use of his mouth.
“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Caroline said, with all the bravado of someone trying to dig themselves out of a hole. “You know you’re cute, why deny it?”
Klaus just shrugged, and dismissively inspected his nails.
“Fine, let’s get on with it,” Caroline said. “And if you’re a good sport, I’ll dissolve the latex before it’s time to sing!”
xxx
“All done!” Caroline beamed, happily inspecting her work.
It was a little under two hours since Caroline began Klaus’ transformation, and a little under twenty minutes since she freed him from his gag.
In the past twenty minutes, even though he had the option of railroading her for having the audacity to seal his damn mouth shut, Klaus found himself, funnily enough, keeping his damn mouth shut.
Experiencing Caroline as she worked was rather mesmerising.
She certainly wasn’t anywhere near just a blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out as he feared. She was very talented, extremely precise, and had an almost unparalleled eye for detail.
But further than that, at any given moment, her face was liable twist and change, letting him know exactly what was going on. It was rather endearing.
She filled the silence in with bits of chatter, about the different steps she was up to in his transformation, about her life, and just about many inane things really.
And, though Klaus despised the inane, coming from Caroline it felt natural and a little bit lovely.
“You do look fantastic,” Caroline said, proudly, spinning him around in his chair so he could more closely inspect her work. “Definitely like a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”
“Then you nailed the brief love,” Klaus quipped. “I don’t recognise myself.”
“Well, I would be worried if you did!” Caroline giggled, squeezing his shoulder briefly. “Then you would have to admit to me that you’re a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”
“I’d never admit it, love,” he said nonchalantly. “Though, I have to say sincerely, your work is impeccable. Bonnie’s work is excellent, but you’ve provided just an extra spritz of something else.”
“Not bad for a Broadway babe, huh?” Caroline winked, nudging him with her hip.
“Not bad at all.”
In that moment of eye contact that so often follows a tease, Caroline was stolen by the glint in Klaus’ eye.
“So umm,” she said, looking away. “Where to next for you, Mr Phantom, sir?”
“Warm up, last minute director notes, back here for a costume and touch ups.”
“I’ll stay here until you’re ready for your touch ups.”
“I look forward to it.”
And with a wink, Klaus was off.
xxx
A few hours later, Caroline was back in front of Klaus’ face, tenderly wiping away the residual make up.
The show had gone off seamlessly. And honestly, Klaus was so completely on cloud nine by how it all went, he was actually being pleasant to those around him.
And now he was with Caroline again, and that was a joy in and of itself. Though he’d never ever admit it to anyone.
Klaus couldn’t help noting how soft and delicate Caroline’s fingers, and the stroked along his skin at different places.
“Nearly done,” Caroline murmured, concentrating on removing a particularly stubborn strip of latex. “Nearly done.”
“Not a problem, love,” Klaus said, absently. “This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in months.”
“Opening night behind you,” she replied. “That’s got to be a relief.”
“Mmm.”
He shut his eyes, and felt himself get mildly lost in the sensations, until –
“Klaus,” she said, softly.
“Mmm?”
“We’re finished.”
“Oh.”
“Umm,” Caroline said, searching for something to say. “I guess I’m done for the night, unless…”
“Unless?” Klaus prompted.
“Well, I’m really hungry, but I don’t know where is any good around here…”
“Are you asking me out?” Klaus smirked.
“What! No?” Caroline blustered. “I mean, I am asking you to go out, but not out. Not like on a date out.”
“Glad to hear you’re so indignant at the idea of a date with me,” Klaus teased in mock offence.
“I’m not indignant! Dating you would be fun, I think! But this wasn’t a date! I’m just hungry, and I thought you would be too!”
“Dating me would be fun would it?”
“Oh shut up. I’m leaving.”
Caroline grabbed her coat and huffily stalked from the room.
“But you’re hungry, and don’t know where to eat,” Klaus grinned, hurriedly gathering his own things so he could follow her out.
“I can google it, I just thought company might be nice,” she snipped. “Glad you arrested me of my illusions so promptly.”
“You wound me, love!” he laughed, catching her hand in his, and stroking a thumb along it gently – apparently her skin was as soft under his hands, as it was on his face. “Come on, let me take you to my favourite post show hang out. You’ll love it.”
Caroline stopped walking, and narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Not a chance, love,” Klaus quipped.
Caroline couldn’t help the wry smile stretch across her lips.
“Fine.”
And so it was, the two went to that post show hang out that night. And the night after that. And the one after that. Until Caroline had to leave, back to her home, back to Broadway.
And, in a mystery never fully explained, Klaus put aside his distaste for the iconic New York creative hub, and somehow ended living in New York, reprising his role as the Phantom on Broadway, only a few short months later. Before going on to perform many more incredible shows there.
It was a mystery.
Unless you were familiar with Caroline Forbes.
Then it wasn’t much of a mystery after all.
xxx
This prompt came from ~somewhere~ literal years ago! “You’re the one person who can do my elaborate stage makeup so every night you spend half an hour in close proximity to my face and I am distressed”. I started writing this in 2015, and it finally was in a state that was nice and shareable. Hope you enjoyed! Happy AU week klaroliners!
