A/N: Thank you guys for the reviews. Looks like writing short stuff is easier for me nowadays.

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#2

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"What are you doing?" She frowns when Klaus' hand lands on her lower back and the other hijacks Caroline's left one.

He just smirks at her confused expression. "I could ask you the same question."

They waltz around the room, out of sync, her steps always a second behind him. Like all Mikaelson children, Klaus spent much of his childhood and also the last eight years of his life in England, because nobody can stand being a politician's son all the time. So he probably entertained the Queen cavorting around the ballrooms with a teacup in his hand and his pinky lifted. Oh, and wearing a wig. Caroline holds back a giggle.

Klaus stretches his arm and turns her around like she's but a doll. "If you're here, it means my mother invited you. If she invited you, she must've had a good reason. Now be so kind and enlighten me—why?"

She stares at him like he's the only one in the entire room who did not get the joke.

"I'm here to cover the campaign. Obviously."

He literally trips over his own feet.

(It's the moment when the orchestra finally picks up the tempo, so it looks like an avant-garde move. Some people are just lucky.)

"Obviously," he scoffs, "I don't know what you're talking about. If you leak false info to the press—"

Caroline shakes her head at him. "You don't have to treat me like an enemy." She gives him a conspiratorial, just-between-us-spies look. "I'm privy to your mother's plan."

The music fades, and so does Klaus' arrogant smirk. If Caroline knew him better, she would know it's better to run now. Run for your life, because Klaus Mikaelson just received some bad news.

His body gets so tense she can feel him losing the rhythm.

Suddenly it's Caroline who's being a ballroom dancer not thinking much about it. It's her who glides over the floor and gracefully swirls around exposing her delicate neck. In case you 're wondering, she did have training. Just long, long time ago.

"My mother's plan. Of course." He mutters.

She nods and leans forward. "I'm actually a part of it," she whispers.

That's it. He's done. He freezes in his place angrily clenching his fists. A short "Excuse me" is all he can muster before he turns on his heel and leaves her in the corner of the ballroom while the orchestra gets back to its slow, funeral-like tune.

Caroline pouts, crossing her arms. "Great." Not that she enjoys his company, but being a wallflower at rich people's parties is a new thing to her. She used to write about the top bananas, but she has never socialized with them before. For Caroline Forbes watching without interacting is simply boring.

But soon she learns there ain't no party like a Mikaelson party. She hardly manages to get another drink when the main door bursts open and a well-known face appears baring his teeth in a million-dollar smile. Loved by the masses—mostly because he's charming. Respected by his opponents because he's a tough negotiator. Hated by his opponents because he's clever. Hated by the masses because he's never even tried to be discrete about the biggest of his flaws.

Ladies and gentleman, the former president of the United States of America, Mikael Mikaelson.

(With his plus one, Hayley Marshall, a model and a— Okay, let's stick with a model for now.)

Caroline watches Esther Mikaelson out of the corner of her eye. The Secretary of State holds her head high, her chin's up, but her eyes say what only a betrayed woman could understand.

"I sooo get you, believe me." Caroline sighs to herself.

Meanwhile, Klaus joins Esther at the top of the stairs. "We need to talk." He says through the gritted teeth.

His mother stares blankly at the crowd for a while before turning to Klaus with her classic number five smile that covers whatever feelings she might be experiencing now. It's been there for ages, that smile. Her children know it all too well. "I totally agree. But not now."

"Why not?"

"Because your father has arrived with his—" Esther takes a sharp breath, but then instantly regains her regal composure. "With Miss Marshall."

While everyone's looking at the former President, Caroline's gaze is fixed at a President's son.

The cocky, supercilious Klaus Mikaelson is looking seriously pissed off right now.