Notes: It's been far too long! I've been struggling with a wicked case of writer's block, so all of my fics have been sorely neglected. But this week is Klaroweek on Tumblr so I promised some updates to do my part. I felt kind of rusty but hopefully it turned out okay. This chapter is for ckhybrid and a few lovely Anons who popped into my inbox and reminded me that they liked this fic.

Part Four: Opening Salvo

Caroline pays very little attention to her surroundings on the walk back to her hotel. She plasters on her very best bitch face (making cheerleaders cry since 2009!) and walks determinedly. Her bag is secure across her body so she doesn't need to worry about spilling its contents across the pavement today. She still can't decide if that little mishap was fortunate or not. Had it not been for that minion acting like a squirrelly weirdo she might not have caught on to her tail this time. Perhaps living in blissful ignorance of Klaus' proximity would have been for the best.

If Klaus is to be believed he'd had no intention of revealing himself to her this time around. She could have just gone about her business, kept up with her routine, and he would have kept his distance. Creepy, stalkeresque behavior? Definitely.

But pretty much exactly what she expected of him. Klaus hadn't shown much respect for things like boundaries and societal conventions. To be fair those things had probably changed many, many times while he'd been alive. Still, he'd gifted her with that diamond bracelet immediately following their first conversation. Diamonds were something you worked up to, that was just common sense. Caroline had always been kind of afraid to do any sleuthing about the bracelets value but given his comments about its origin she suspected it had been worth more than her car. And she'd thrown it in his face like it was a mall trinket. Most guys started with flowers, but Klaus really wasn't most guys.

Her 'don't fuck with me' aura successfully clears a path, which is a good thing, for the other pedestrians. If anyone gets in her way she's not going to be the one hitting the pavement.

Caroline's mind is back in the apartment she'd just left, on the man who'd slammed her into a wall, but was careful enough to protect her head from the impact. He's annoyingly contradictory like that. He respects her strength and he'll push her buttons but ever since that one time, in Elena's living room, when he'd failed at watching her die, he's been unable to make himself break her.

Thinking back over their conversation she recognizes the restraint he'd been practicing. Somewhere over the course of their relationship she'd come to know Klaus, in ways that she's certain he doesn't allow very many people. Without her normally rigid views on morality she could admit that Klaus hadn't been entirely wrong when he'd told her that they were the same. It had freaked Caroline out at the time. She tried so hard to prove to her parents that she could still be good after becoming something they hated. To be compared to him, knowing only some of the things that he'd done, seeing how people feared him? He was everything a bad vampire was and he relished in it. Caroline had hated being compared to him. She hadn't wanted to be feared, she'd just wanted to be normal.

Caroline should have known better.

Since becoming a vampire she's done things she's not proud of. It had started with that man at the carnival, but the list had grown steadily. Always things that she could rationalize away, of course.

Killing those witches so Bonnie could live.

Snapping Luke Parker's neck.

She'd killed Luke without a thought but had justified it to herself since it had been for her friends. The greater good, in her mind. And hey, it's not like Luke stayed dead, right? But deep down she hadn't much cared if Luke came back, so long as the people she loved did.

A few years as a vampire and she could casually murder an acquaintance under the right circumstances. What would she be capable of, if she lived a thousand years? When most everyone she knew was long gone, and she'd watched countless humans live and die, would right and wrong still mean the same things? What had Klaus been like, just a few years into his life as a vampire? Hell, he and his siblings had been the first of their kind. Caroline had the luxury of someone to explain vampirism to her, had had Stefan and his century and a half of experience going over the ins and outs, even if his ways weren't exactly conventional. Maybe killing and manipulating had at first been about survival for Klaus, his and his family's, and then became a habit. Caroline found she could easily understand that, more than most people, anyway.

It had been a long time since she'd first taken Klaus' blood in her childhood bedroom. She'd done it even though, at the time, she'd been sure it had strings attached. But he'd never demanded payment. Caroline had thrown herself into plenty of dangerous situations since then but one fact still remained. She didn't want to die.

Although, Caroline guessed, she'd not been practicing a whole lot of survival skills, back at Elijah's apartment. Or in Las Vegas, for that matter. The list of people who were willing to speak to Klaus as she just had was likely pretty short. The list of people who'd do so and walk away with their hearts still inside their thoracic cavity? Even shorter. She'd heard rumblings of a protégé of sorts in New Orleans, and there were his siblings, of course. Caroline supposed their might be a few other people who he'd developed a fondness for in his long life. But the vast majority of people would have been dead for even thinking to throw a cellphone at his head.

And she'd only grown bolder. She'd taunted him, poked at his weak spots cruelly and deliberately, and he'd managed not to lash out in the ways that she'd half expected him to. She'd learned a few things, by living dangerously, which had been her intention. Klaus claimed that he'd known her whereabouts for the whole six weeks since she'd left him in that hotel room. That was concerning and she needed to know if it was true and just how he'd done it.

But the million dollar question was: did she want Klaus around? Caroline wasn't sure. He'd be a distraction from her boredom that was true. But would it be worth it? They had a few issues to iron out.

For example, the whole 'protect her' thing? Nope, not her style. Human Caroline had needed protection from the supernatural infestation that came to Mystic Falls. No one protected her from Damon until it had been too late. No one was around to protect her from Katherine, though in some weird twist of fate, Katherine had given her the means to protect herself. Throwing Damon around had been far less than he'd deserved but it had felt damn fucking good. Caroline as a vampire was more than capable of looking out for herself, and she liked it that way.

And yeah, Klaus said he was less concerned with physical threats and more with lessening the train wreck of grief and guilt that she was going to be when she flipped the switch back on. But relying on other people for your emotional needs was nothing but a crapshoot. People left you. People decided other people were more important than you. People realized that you were too much work and you weren't worth the effort they were putting in.

She didn't want him shadowing her with some stupid idea in his head that it was his duty to save her from herself. Flipping the switch had been her choice and she'd live with the consequences. She'd told Elena off for making things about her, in the process managing to finally, finally voice thoughts that Caroline had been pushing down for years. She'd bitten her tongue every time Elena Gilbert's safety or happiness had required someone else to make a grand sacrifice, because Elena was her friend, and isn't that what friends did? Not anymore. Not everything was about Elena, and Caroline refused to allow anyone else to make her choices about them, especially not Klaus.

Caroline was going to make it clear that uncharacteristic savior complexes were so not welcome in her vicinity and if Klaus persisted with his they were going to have problems. If he wanted to get the fuck over that, and have a little fun, (preferably the sweaty, naked, bloody kind) well then maybe he could hang around. Maybe.

But she needed to keep her options open. If Klaus wouldn't play by her rules, and Caroline needed to run again, she'd have to switch things up, and that would be easier with more intel.

She'd spend some time with him, see what he would let slip. He was trying to play games with her, that was obvious enough. But Klaus didn't play games he didn't want to win so she was 99% certain he had a plan and she was 100% certain that the culmination of said plan would be getting her to turn her humanity switch back on.

He'd use more finesse than anyone back home would. If she was in Mystic Falls Damon would probably fall back on his good old 'let's torture the switch back on!' idea. Caroline snorted with amusement. As if that would work on her. Been there, done that, got the 'Torture Survivor' t-shirt. Klaus was smart, and he was cunning and he saw through her alarmingly easily. If he really wanted her to turn it back on he'd find a way. She just had to be prepared to shake him off if he came too close. And to do that, she had to find out why she hadn't been able to lose him after Las Vegas.

So she'd go out with him tonight, play along, observe. See how far she could push him and what it would take to make him push back.

Klaus walked into the lobby of Caroline's hotel at 7:50. He's sure she cares rather less about punctuality in her current state but that doesn't mean he should be discourteous. And truth be told he's rather eager to cross swords with her once again. He's might not be in love with this version of Caroline, might miss her genuine emotional responses, but he has to admit he finds this version of her fascinating. She has no interest in dissembling and he values the little peeks into what she truly thinks about the world, about herself, and about him.

He walks confidently through the lobby towards the elevators, and no one bothers him.

He's fully aware of her room number, of course. Caroline's staying on the sixth floor, at the end of the hall, and he knocks three times on her door. A maid answers. Klaus notes the single drop of blood on her collar. She nods at him and leaves, and Klaus lets himself in.

Caroline's in a robe, if you can even call it that. It's short and black and edged in lace. She's at the mirror over the dresser, seemingly putting the finishing touches on her makeup, her hair arranged on top of her head, "You're early," she notes with no real rancor.

"A gentleman does not keep a lady waiting," Klaus tells her, keeping his tone light. He angles an armchair towards her and sinks into it, propping an ankle on the opposite knee, content, as ever, to wait her out.

"You interrupted my snack."

"I apologize."

But Caroline's moods are mercurial and she waves the apology away, "Eh. She didn't taste that good anyway. I'll find someone later. You're claiming to be a gentleman, now?"

"When it suits me."

She makes a skeptical noise and goes back to her task, painting her lips with gloss.

Klaus drums his fingers idly on the arm of the chair, he glances about the room, feigning interest in everything but the only interesting thing in it, who's robe keeps creeping higher up her thighs as she bends toward the mirror.

Caroline keeps looking his way though, so the tactic, as basic as it is, seems to be working.

She puts the gloss down, and uses her pinky to smudge her eye makeup a bit before she nods, seemingly satisfied with her appearance.

She turns to face him, "And why does it suit you?"

Klaus raises a brow, "Being a gentleman?"

She rolls her eyes, "Nice play at senility, old timer. Yes, being a gentleman. I've made it pretty clear that the only thing I'm all that interested in at the moment is your body, Klaus. Your fingers, your tongue, your cock. I'm not super picky. Why not fuck me and hope that I'll be weak and pliant after you've made me come? That you can spin some pretty words about life and genuine beauty and hummingbirds and what I'm missing out on and boom! Switch on."

Klaus can't help a soft laugh, "Anyone who thinks you're pliant after orgasm has never had the pleasure of making you come. It makes you demanding. I seem to remember a lot of 'mores' and 'agains' and 'please don't stops.'"

Caroline merely shrugs. She's seems unaffected by the reminder of how she'd begged for him. Klaus only wishes that he could say the same. And it's only centuries of practice in appearing unmoved that stops him from shifting restlessly. He shoves the memories away. Now is not the time.

"I suppose you have a point," Caroline concedes. She turns to grab a garment bag that's hung near the door, "I seem to remember being pretty relaxed at the end though. We even snuggled for a bit. Is that the problem? Is Klaus Mikaelson a secret cuddler?"

"I suppose I don't quite know the answer to that. I've not had much practice, you see. It was pleasant enough, with you. "

This time when she rolls her eyes it's so reminiscent of that time at his family's ball, when he'd offered to show her the world. Back then he'd just been newly intrigued by her, a brand new vampire with steel in her spine and venom on her tongue. Had he known then, what he knows now, known how deeply she'd crawl under his skin, he'd either have run, far and fast, or killed her. But it's far too late for that. She's there, inside of him, and he can't rip her out without hurting himself. And Klaus is self-preserving above nearly all other things.

"Though," he muses, watching her carefully, "I can't imagine any activity that would be unpleasant with you naked and replete and covered in my scent."

Her nose wrinkles, "Ew. Is that a wolf thing? I am no one's territory, buddy."

He laughs again, "Not just a wolf thing. Do you remember Las Vegas, Caroline? You marked me with your arousal, rubbed it into my skin. You didn't even think about it. It's the monster you hide beneath your pretty smile. You have the instinct to take what you want and let everyone else knows it belongs to you."

She looks at him, seemingly doubtful. Klaus is once again reminded of how much she has to learn about her nature, would have learned already had her instructors not been so criminally incompetent, "And you're alright with that?"

Klaus gives her a slow smile, but doesn't answer the question. The answer, after all, is something they've both been aware of since her high school graduation. When she was ready to be his, he will welcome her, whether it is in decades or centuries or three quarters of a millennium.

God he plays dirty. She's not the least bit surprised, of course. He was definitely a win by any means type. Another thing they had in common. The little tendrils of amazement she feels, taking in the tender expression on his face? Those she's surprised about. She ruthlessly stamps them down before they can take root. She cannot make this that easy for him. She refuses.

It's not fair for him to look at her like that, not fair at all. It was a heady thing for a girl who'd always wanted to be picked first, to be looked at like you were just about the only thing in the universe worth having.

Caroline takes a deep, centering, breath and Klaus' smile turns into a smirk, "Are you feeling alright, love? You looked a bit sentimental for a moment," he sounds concerned but she detects a faint tinge of pride.

It annoys her, something she's far more equipped to deal with. She tosses him a bright, sarcastic smile, "Peachy keen," she answers. And then she unties the belt on the robe and lets it drop.

She recognizes that she's miscalculated a second too late, when his eyes never stray from her face. Klaus had only ever been distracted by push up bras and short skirts because he'd allowed himself to be. He'd proven that from the beginning, when he'd stated that he wanted to talk about her. Still, she keeps her head held high. Backtracking now will just make him think he's winning. So Caroline saunters over to the closet, swinging her hips more than necessary, because at this point she's committed.

She bends to pick up the shoes she's going to wear, grits her teeth at the amused noise he makes behind her.

"As much as I appreciate the view I'm not going to be swayed by it, Caroline. I know you're accustomed to boys who slaver over a little flash of your skin but I am no boy."

Caroline takes her time digging through the drawer she's filled with underwear both outrageously expensive and more revealing than concealing. Selecting a pair that matches her shoes, she turns to face him and steps into them. "Can you blame a girl for trying? Besides, you seemed to like my skin just fine that day in the woods."

"I think 'like' is too paltry a word, actually. I've often dreamt about your skin, in the intervening months. The taste of it, the way it gave under my teeth, and how you moaned so nicely when I found all the places you most like to be stroked."

He says it all so very casually, like it shouldn't be news to her. Like it doesn't send a stab of lust directly to her core.

Caroline grits her teeth and unzips the bag holding the dress she's planning on wearing tonight. Her body is betraying her, heating and dampening in helpless arousal at his only mildly dirty words, and the vivid memories they'd brought back. This hadn't been the plan at all. She's supposed to be the one doing the pushing. He's supposed to be the one with the tells. She needs to regroup.

She'd picked the dress with Klaus' tastes in mind. He might not be a boy drooling over her assets but he was definitely a boob man. She's always wondered, the low cut shirts she'd worn as Klaus bait had drawn his eyes and her suspicions had been confirmed by the attention he'd paid her breasts over the course of their one afternoon in the woods. The dress plunges far too low in the front to make a bra possible, and if she was at all concerned with modesty she'd have used several inches of double sided tape to make sure she didn't accidentally flash someone.

She turns away to put it on, glances over her shoulder when she's done and asks, "Zip me up?"

He unfolds himself from the chair to acquiesce to her request.

And she knows that she's made another mistake.

Objectively speaking, Klaus is not all that physically intimidating. He's not much taller than she is, leanly muscled rather than body builder huge. It would be easy enough to dismiss him as not a threat, if you weren't observant. If you were, you'd be wary once you saw the way he moves. There's confidence in the way he holds himself, an easy litheness that lets you know that he's not someone that you want to mess with, that he's more powerful than he appears.

There's a hint of the predator in his gaze right now, and Caroline's wants to turn her head away. But she will not be intimidated, she will not show weakness, so she meets his eyes as he approaches.

He steps up behind her, rests his forehead on her temple and murmurs, "I'm quite certain I've won this battle, love."

"I'm not so certain it's over yet," Caroline argues, turning her head away from him stubbornly.

This time when she chuckles she can feel it against the nape of her neck, and it's so much worse than just hearing the low husk of it from across the room.

"Isn't it though?" His hands are suddenly on her hips, and gliding up her sides. They pause for a minute at the cutouts just below her ribs, he glides his fingertips over her bare skin for a moment. She fights not to shiver at the sensation. But then his mouth is laying an open mouthed kiss on her neck and that fight is lost as she shudders.

Her head drops forward without her permission, wanting more of his lips on her, and she can feel him smile, "Shut up," she mutters.

"I don't believe I said anything, just now."

But he steps back a bit, so she can no longer feel the heat of him all along her body. He traces a fingertip down her spine where her dress gapes open, and then does the zipper up excruciatingly slowly, still quite literally breathing down her neck. She's about to step away, put some distance between them, but he grabs her hips and yanks her back into him. He spins them to face the mirror, and she lets out a gasp at the unexpected speed, though he immediately puts some distance between their bodies while still keeping her in place with his hands.

"You forget that we've played this game before. You, the little blonde distraction. Me, the smitten big bad who needed to be swayed from one dastardly deed or another. But it's not quite the same, is it? No one's making you do this. You don't need to save the poor little doppelganger. You're doing this for you."

"Um, duh. I was pretty clear about the fact that I want to fuck you."

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart. We both know that you're nothing of the sort." Klaus gives her earlobe a quick bite, runs his teeth along the hollow just behind it and then soothes the delicious sting with his tongue, Caroline's knees are shaking, and dangerously close to giving out. Damn him for being so fucking good at this, and for remembering all of her trigger spots.

He sets his chin on her shoulder, waits for her to meet his eyes in the mirror, "You're interest in sex is noted, and expected in your current state, but that's not all that you're after, is it?"

Caroline shrugs roughly, jostling his head from its resting place, "Maybe. Maybe not. Does it make a difference?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Klaus mimics, "But I've beaten you at your own little game, haven't I? If I slid my hand into that little scrap of blue lace you seem to think are knickers what would I find? Are you wet for me, Caroline? If I played with your swollen little clit, how long would it take for you to come for me?"

And yeah, there go her knees. He's got her, hands still clasped on her hips, easily keeping her upright, but she grips the edge of the dresser for extra support.

He makes a satisfied sound that really does nothing to cool her arousal because she distinctly remembers him making a similar noise, muffled and against her throat, the first time he'd slid inside of her.

Caroline fights to breathe normally, knows that he can hear her racing heart, "I don't think it's very gentlemanly of you to wind me up like this if you have no intention of following through, you know."

Klaus laughs again and his amusement at her expense is so not appreciated and might very well earn him a knee to the balls before the evening was out, "Ah but I did say I was only gentlemanly when it suited me, did I not? Revenge is sweet, love."

Her head snaps up, "Revenge?"

"Now whose memory is faulty? Las Vegas, surely that rings a bell? The bed and the ropes. How you left me there, alone and how did you phrase it? Oh yes. Wound up."

"Excuse you, I was more than willing to take care of that for you. You were the one that refused. Revenge not necessary."

"That's one way to look at it. However the entire situation might have been avoided had you not drugged me in the first place. Revenge warranted, I think."

"Oh please, I could have left you there until your strength came back. Would have been way worse."

"Yes," Klaus replies dryly, "how generous of you. Tell me, do you think you could stand an hour like this? If I stood here, and told you all the things I want to do to you. How I'd fulfill the fantasies you so sweetly confessed to me last time and any others you deign to tell me. How about if I were to tell you some of my own? The tame ones. The filthy ones. Would you let me tie you down, Caroline? To spread your legs wide and bare all of you to me. I'd use my mouth on you, keep you on the quivering edge until you begged me to let you fall over and the lightest brush of my tongue on your clit would do it. Could you stand it? With no hope of relief."

She can't help the whimper that she lets out, "I'm betting you got off in the end though, didn't you? Might be worth it."

"I did. I drained the maid you kindly sent me, and then I thought of you with my hand wrapped around my cock. I scraped up what was left of your arousal on my stomach and I sucked it off my fingers. I came with your name on my lips."

"See? We can totally do that. I'll even let you watch again."

"Maybe another time, love," Klaus releases her hips abruptly, but hovers for a moment to make sure she's stable, before he goes to collect her shoes, "Now, put these on. We're going to be late for our reservation."

Caroline glares at him, "Seriously?"

He seems completely unperturbed by her trying to kill him with the power of her mind. He's lucky he's holding her shoes otherwise he'd be getting stabbed with a stiletto right about now. It's a testament to how frustrated Caroline is that she's even considering it. She really loves that pair. "What reservation?" she asks, her voice slightly strained, "We're going to an art gallery."

"Fashionably late is a serious thing to artist types, Caroline. Trust me. We'll go to dinner first."

"That sounds suspiciously date-y."

"Not a date. Just dinner. Friends have dinner, do they not?" he asks, far too innocently.

"Ugh, fine. But you're not paying, alright? I'll compel the waiter myself."

"If you'd like," Klaus says agreeably.

She brushes past him, taking her shoes from his hands, and goes into the bathroom, "Give me a minute."

He merely nods, locks his hands behind his back, and watches her knowingly as she closes the door between them.

Caroline sets he shoes on the counter, looks at herself in the mirror. She's flushed and her eyes are bright. When she lifts her hands to smooth her hair they tremble slightly. She'd never admit it, but she had lost that battle. She's almost painfully turned on and she gives serious thought to touching herself, taking the edge off. It won't take very long at all to get off, but Klaus would hear her and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's won.

Instead, she closes her eyes and counts to ten, tries to marshal some of the control she's known for. It's far more difficult than it should be and she bites her lip to stop the string of curses that wants to erupt.

It's going to be a long night.