The body of Rev. Bill Larson clings to a window of the UpStairs Lounge, a New Orleans gay bar set on fire killing 32 people on the last day of Pride Weekend. Burial services for the dead were denied by most churches, and families refused to claim victims’ bodies out of shame. 1973
Feeling kind of a little lost writing long fics lately so welcome to my “Karoline is Definitely Endgame” future mini scenarios. All will vary in time and theme. Hope you like them!
This came to me from that adorable Joseph Morgan interview about the TVD finale (check it out if you haven’t).
Carousel Bar: New Orleans - seven weeks later…
“Did you want to make it any harder to find you?” Her familiar voice rang out around the bar, causing onlookers to stare at them curiously. No one dared abuse the Original Hybrid and the King of New Orleans, especially in public.
He finished the last sip of his neat whiskey and pushed the empty glass downwards towards the barman. Closing his eyes briefly, Klaus gathered his thoughts. He’d figured she might come into town one day but didn’t think it would be so soon, not to mention so confrontational and public.
Apparently making a generous donation to a worthy cause made you public enemy number one. Forget witches and other supernatural creatures, Caroline Forbes was another kind of beast.
He turned around finally, his eyes perusing those blonde waves and expressive, blue eyes he’d committed to memory. His gaze flickered downwards, trying to ignore just how beautiful she looked so casually attired in jeans and a fitted, white shirt.
Funnily enough public embarrassment was usually a punishable offence but Klaus wasn’t going to complain in this case. He’d been waiting for her to walk back into his life for a while now, even if she was pissed. He had to admit that flustered state just made her look more beautiful.
“Given your resourceful and tenacious attributes, I’m surprised you had difficulty, love,” he murmured, resisting the urge to lick his lips . She sent him a particularly dirty glance before placing her hands firmly on those shapely hips.
“I was distracted,” she huffed. Klaus could tell by her expression that it was indeed true. “That’s what happens when people send unexpected gifts in the mail.”
“And here I thought gifts were usually welcome.”
“Care to step outside?” Klaus shrugged by way of response. Whilst he was happy she was there he figured this conversation was best conducted away from prying eyes, given his reputation.
“I have something for you,” she scowled once they arrived in the neighbouring alley, throwing the cheque in his direction.
“Do you always act so childishly when people give you things? Remind me not to get you any birthday presents in the future.”
“I can’t be bought,” Caroline argued. “This is too extravagant and I won’t accept it.”
“This isn’t about buying anyone, especially you,” he shot back, trying to hand the cheque back in the process.
“You gave me money, three million dollars in fact,” she hissed. “I’m not Roxanne you know.”
“Roxanne?” Klaus asked temporarily confused.
“And here I thought the 1000 year-old Hybrid would understand,” Caroline muttered. “You don’t have to put on the red light?” Klaus knew exactly where she was going now but couldn’t help teasing her, she was just too adorably feisty when she was frustrated. “You don’t have to sell your body to the night?”
“I’ve always loved The Police,” he answered, the glimmer of recognition now crossing his face for her benefit. “Don’t tell me, you don’t have to wear that dress tonight?”
“I can’t believe you’re teasing me right now, Mikaelson.”
“It’s easier to joke about things when it’s obvious you’re trying to assert that I consider you some kind of prostitute, Caroline.”
“What was I supposed to think?” She squeaked.
“That I was investing money into a very noble cause,” he insisted. “If I knew it was going to cause such a fuss I would have written the cheque out to Alaric instead.”
“So, you’re not trying to…”
“No,” he replied simply, unable to keep a straight face, a very telling smile tugging at the edges of those crimson lips. “But between you and I, that expression is telling me you’re a little disappointed.”
“Glad to see that ego is still well and truly intact.”
“Well, who would I be without that, love?” He asked, noticing that she was momentarily lost for words. She really was cute in this dumbfounded state and it was taking all of his willpower not to push her against the wall and rub his lips against her and that was only the beginning of what he wanted to do to her. But Klaus had no intention of stepping over that line. His donation was meant in goodwill and he wanted her to know that.
“I’m not taking it,” she asserted.
“Well, that’s entirely up to you but I suggest you think about the children before you make that decision.”
“Way to throw the kids back in my face,” she mumbled.
“Just consider it,” he reiterated.
“And when I do, you’ll take it back?”
“Yes, but you’re going to have to return it in person,” he instructed, trying not to smile. Her torn expression was telling Klaus that she was confused. He just hoped she’d keep it so as to benefit her school and students.
“Fine,” she huffed. “When I come back to return this cheque, I fully expect some beignets on my arrival.”
“Consider it done. You know however long it takes and all.” He couldn’t miss the telling smile she gave as he uttered those four words they both knew so well.
Turns out the next time Caroline came to New Orleans three months later, it was to live for good and she didn’t need beignets because she could get them anytime she wanted.
Klaus, however, made it his mission to make her favourite sweets available at all times and couldn’t help but sing Roxanne just for her benefit. Surprisingly enough she wasn’t keen on it being the first dance at their wedding though.