Written for the Klaroline Vacation Gift Exchange 2018 for Realynn8.
For those who may not know Daredevil, you don't need to watch the show to read this. Just know that he's a blind lawyer by day and beats up criminals using his super senses by night :P
The blank screen greets Caroline Forbes cheerfully. Words have never been as hard. Come on. The cursor blinks at her, frantic. Dogs are cute, I can write about cute dogs. She types a sentence, pauses, fiddles with the font size, and promptly slams her laptop shut. Caroline knows a lost cause when she sees one.
"Forbes! Where's my dog shelter story?" asks Alaric as she's shrugging on her coat.
"In your inbox, first thing tomorrow." Caroline isn't too worried about the self-appointed deadline. She knows that when she gets down to it, she'll be able to bang out a piece about the new dog shelter and its fluffy residents in time.
Her editor regards the expression on her face and asks, "What's the matter? Not a fan of dogs?"
"No, nothing like that. Just that I would prefer writing about the biker gang rather than actual dogs," she grins sheepishly.
"The Dogs of Hell haven't done anything newsworthy in months. And even if they did, it would be none of your concern because the Bulletin has dedicated crime reporters." He sends her a stern look over his glasses. "Something which I've told you a hundred times, Forbes."
"I know, I know." She sighs. "Had to try, at least."
"There's that hope and optimism I need in the Human Interest sections."
"Pointless Fluff, you mean."
"Call it whatever you wish, I want to see that piece before my morning coffee."
"Yes, boss." She shoots him a mock salute and makes her way out of the office. It's been two years since she's moved to the city and she's nowhere as close to becoming a crime reporter as when she'd first started her job at the New York Bulletin. The rational part of Caroline knows that she shouldn't expect the crime beat this soon in her career, but behind that part is a young girl who'd dreamed of being an investigative journalist ever since she watched All the President's Men. That girl refuses to wait any longer.
A more-than-passing interest in crime had led to a more-than-casual interest in the Daredevil. She'd first come across him on a blog post, accompanied by a grainy photograph of a man in a mask. The blogger claimed he'd seen the man beating up a would-be mugger in an alleyway. There were a couple of more incidents, of the man wearing a devil's mask (as a particularly high definition picture revealed) stopping petty thieves and small-time criminals. Initially, Caroline had dismissed it as a passing fad. Costumed freaks were a dime a dozen these days, all vying to be the next superhero. But there was something different about this vigilante. As the months passed, two things became clear. One, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen steadfastly remained a street-level operative. Two, he definitely had powers. Not only was he an expert fighter, eyewitnesses swore he could see in the dark and dodge bullets with ease.
For all her fascination with the Daredevil, Caroline couldn't help thinking that his efficiency in cleaning up the streets was affecting her job. Criminals were afraid of this dangerous costumed vigilante and with crime rates going down, Caroline was worried she might never get promoted if there was nothing left to report. Lexi had told her that she was overreacting; journalists would be around as long as human beings valued truth. But Lexi had her own radio show; she wouldn't understand the kind of mind-numbing and mediocre writing that lay in Caroline's future if things didn't go according to plan.
Oh, shit. Caroline's supposed to meet Lexi for a drink after work. She pauses mid-stride, takes quick stock of her bearings and changes her direction, towards Greta's.
The bar is still the same. Dim lights, grubby pool tables, undrinkable water, stale peanuts and Greta herself, who never has a kind word for anyone. Caroline enters and immediately feels at home.
Lexi texts that she's running late. Caroline decides to get herself a drink in the meantime. At the bar, it takes longer than usual to get Greta's attention.
"She's pissed-off tonight, well, when is she not? But this guy stuck a knife into his friend over a girl earlier today. Poor Greta had to clean up the blood."
The speaker is a man in a suit, dark hair slicked back, a friendly smile on his long face.
"Stefan Salvatore."
"Caroline Forbes," she says, shaking his hand. "So how long have you been standing here, Stefan?"
"Mm, long enough for me to reconsider ever finding this place."
"Hey, that drink with the eel isn't bad. Plus I feel like this is one of the few places left in New York that is really New York, you know?"
"Hah, you sound just like Klaus."
"Klaus?"
"Klaus. Best friend and partner-in-crime," says Stefan, pointing towards a man with dark blond hair sitting a few tables away. He's wearing dark round glasses. "Salvatore and Mikaelson, lawyers for hire."
Caroline thumps the bar in excitement. "You're Salvatore and Mikaelson!"
He is taken aback. "You know us?"
"Of course. I followed the Silas case closely. Stellar work."
Stefan bows. "Why, thank you. If only our fame had translated into paying clients." They finally attract Greta's attention and order their drinks; Stefan, two beers, and Caroline, whiskey on the rocks.
"Hey, if you're waiting for someone, you can sit with us for a bit."
"Well-"
"Come on, Klaus won't believe we have a fan."
Caroline smiles. "Sure, why not."
They wend their way through the tables to where Klaus is seated. He's leaning back on his chair, arms splayed, head tilted towards the right. A white cane rests next to him.
"Klaus, this is Caroline Forbes," says Stefan, drawing up a chair for her. "Caroline, this is Klaus Mikaelson."
"Hello, Caroline," greets Klaus, smiling. He has dimples, which strikes her as incongruous.
She sticks out her hand to shake before remembering that he can't see her. Flustered, she drops into her seat. Stefan politely pretends not to notice.
"So, what do you do, Caroline?"
"I'm a reporter. With the New York Bulletin."
"What are you working on currently?" asks Klaus.
"Society pieces, nothing but fluff." She waves a hand. "I want to report crime, but I feel like Daredevil is gonna put me out of my job," she jokes.
"You think he's that good?" asks Stefan with a side-eyed glance at his friend.
"Well, sure. He single-handedly brought down that Irish gang."
Klaus leans forward, intent. "Don't you think it's wrong he's taking the law into his own hands?"
"You feel that way because you're a lawyer. But sometimes the law fails. Sometimes the bad guys get away." She shrugs. "I've spoken to the people he's saved from muggers and rapists. They're not complaining."
"You've been tracking him?" He looks surprised.
"Not actively. I mean, I'm nowhere close to finding out who he is."
"I'm sure you're very close," says Klaus. "You don't seem like the type who gives up easy." His lips curve slowly upwards and holy hell. Is he flirting with her? Caroline blushes.
Luckily, she's saved from replying by the arrival of Lexi. The frowning blonde stands at the entrance, scanning the bar from end to end. Caroline puts up her hand to get her attention and turns to the lawyers. "Hey, my friend's here. Thanks for giving me company."
They nod back at her, Stefan wishing her luck for the fluff pieces.
On her way to Lexi, she catches snippets of their conversation.
"I just don't know how you do it, Klaus. You somehow always pick the beautiful ones."
"What do you mean? You were the one who invited her."
"And you were the one who started hitting on her."
Caroline bites her lip, grinning. Maybe Alaric would her let interview Salvatore & Mikaelson: Legal Heroes…
"Thank god," says Lexi. "I thought you'd left already." They hug. Caroline senses eyes on them; with their blonde hair and similar builds, they could almost be sisters.
Caroline settles on a booth a few tables down from the lawyers while Lexi gets them fresh drinks. They make idle chitchat about their work and personal lives (non-existent in Caroline's case). It's only after the second round that Caroline tells her about the news that's been occupying her mind.
"So you know that pharmacy on 59th Street I'm looking into?"
"The one that's a front for drug smuggling?"
"Yes, but now they're turning to human trafficking. And I know this, because…" She lowered her voice. "I may have a lead on the guy supplying them with weapons."
Lexi raises her brows. "That's good, Care. When are you going to the cops?"
"Soon." Caroline sips her drink. "I just need more proof."
"You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?"
Caroline grins and pats her purse. "I'll be fine."
Shaking her head fondly, Lexi excuses herself to the bathroom. Despite what the grimy table tops might have conveyed, Greta actually keeps the washrooms spuriously clean. As Lexi's heels click away on the wooden floor, Caroline tunes out the hubbub of the boisterous, tattooed crowd. She shifts her angle so that the lawyers come in her view. Stefan scrolls through his phone, a small smile on his face. Klaus is utterly still, except for his fingers which are idly toying with the label on his beer bottle. His eyes, hidden behind red-tinted glasses, are directed unnervingly at her.
.
.
Lexi would be pissed if she could see her now, waiting all by herself at an abandoned construction project in the middle of the night. But it's not like Caroline had promised her or anything. It's imperative Caroline get proof of the activities of the trafficking ring, so she can finish writing an investigative piece that hopefully Alaric deems publishable. It's taken weeks of work to track down Kai, the arms guy, and get him to talk to her. So as soon as Lexi had left, Caroline had chugged down water and jumped into a cab.
Caroline taps her foot impatiently. The Hudson laps noisily at the concrete shores of the building site. It's certainly an eerie meeting point, but she hadn't exactly expected him to choose Starbucks at noon.
Twin headlights pierce through the gloom. Caroline tenses, her hand creeping towards her purse. A navy blue car that has seen better days, slowly trundles into the lot. A pale face sticks out the driver's window. "I'm surprised you're here, blondie." Kai.
Caroline relaxes. "Well, you asked me to." She walks towards the car.
"Didn't think you'd actually turn up." The sharp click of the door shutting echoes in the night. Kai saunters towards the back of the car, hands in his pockets. Bracing his hands on the trunk, he blatantly looks her up and down and says, "Lookin' fine tonight, darling."
Ugh. She smiles through clenched teeth.
Kai pops open the lid with a flourish. Caroline peers inside. The trunk is filled with guns—pistols, rifles, automatics. All unlicensed, all illegal.
"Which one catches your fancy? This one, perhaps?" He holds up a small, pearl-handled pistol. "A pretty gun for a pretty lady." It is indeed appealing to look at—it shines under the orange sodium light—but also quite useless for actual defence.
Caroline points to the Glock 17. "What about that one?"
"Not a bad choice."
She weighs a couple other models in her hand, pretending to mull over her purchase, while making idle chitchat with Kai.
"It's so hard to choose, you keep so many of them," she says, scratching her head ruefully. "You must be supplying larger groups too, right?"
Kai narrows his eyes. "It's only been individuals like you, who don't want to do all the paperwork."
"Really?" she says casually, inspecting the barrel of a revolver. "I mean, I thought you were in the big leagues."
He bristles at that. "Of course I'm in the big leagues," he huffs. "Just got a huge order."
Her ears perk up. "Ooh, is it the Mafia? I loved Al Pacino in that movie."
Kai rolls his eyes in disgust. "It's not the Mafia, obviously," he says, as if to an idiot child. "It's all Eastern European now. Ukrainians."
Bingo. The drug smugglers were Ukrainians. "They're so intimidating, what do they even need guns for?"
He opens his mouth. Stops. Stares at her beadily. "Why are you so interested?"
Caroline gulps. Perhaps she's been laying on the dumb blonde shtick too thickly. "No reason. It's just that you live such an exciting life. I'll take this one."
Kai doesn't move to take the gun from her. "Who are you, a cop?"
"Of course not. Do I look like a cop?" Genuine outrage shades her statement.
"Then why are you asking so many questions about the Ukrainians?" Quick as a flash, a knife appears in his hand, its silver blade gleaming wickedly. Fuck. Caroline immediately points the gun already in her hand. "Stay back."
Kai walks towards her, unconcerned. "You know, I can take you to them. You'll be able to see first-hand what they're up to."
"Stay back," she repeats, voice firm.
He laughs nastily. "You really think I drive around with loaded guns in my trunk?"
Sure enough, when Caroline squeezes the trigger, there's only an empty click.
"Good thing I have this then." The Llama .380 appears in her hand, now trained unerringly at Kai. He falters for a moment at the sight of the trusty weapon she'd pulled out from her purse.
"Do you even know how to use that, blondie?" he scoffs.
Caroline smirks. "You want to try me?"
In reply, he hurls the knife at her.
She fires, but the spinning blade had distracted her. Kai ducks behind his car. She twists, and just about manages to dodge the blade. His aim was true. The knife clatters to the ground.
Caroline curses. Then the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. For Kai is now slowly rising, clutching a sawed off shotgun and grinning. "Now this one, lovely, this one is loaded. Do you want to find out?"
She never does. For at that exact moment, a dark figure drops down from above, straight on top of Kai. The arms supplier screams, the shotgun forcefully wrenched away from him.
Caroline hurries towards the sound. Kai escapes from the grasp of the unknown assailant and legs it. The figure pursues him into the shadows on impossibly silent feet. Kai pivots sharply, another knife in his hand, and slashes. The figure dodges with ease. Caroline watches, open-mouthed, as Kai's stabs and punches land on nothing but air. It's like the dark figure knows where the blows are coming from. Finally, he catches Kai's arm and twists and twists, forcing him to drop the blade. A kick and an elbow to the head, and Kai slumps to the ground, unconscious.
Her saviour straightens up. He's wearing smooth armour of a red so deep it looks black. The top half of his face is hidden with a mask with tiny, crimson horns. Daredevil.
Caroline gasps.
"Are you okay?" His voice is deep, carefully modulated. His gloved fingers lightly trace her arm where Kai's blade had grazed it. The feel of cool leather on bare skin makes her shiver.
"Just a scratch." Now that the shock has worn off, Caroline finds she is quite irritated. "I had it, you know," she says, jamming her gun back in her purse.
"You did. But a little extra help never hurts."
"I didn't know Daredevil was so sardonic."
"You do now, Miss…?"
He did get her out of a life-threatening situation. He deserves her name. "Call me Caroline."
"Caroline." The corners of his lips turn up. There's something familiar about the way he says her name…
He catches her staring critically at the angles of his face, the stubble, his mouth, and turns away hastily. "What were you doing here?"
"I'm a reporter. I was doing my job."
Daredevil picks up an unconscious Kai and heaves him onto his shoulder. "Well, next time I suggest you call the cops."
Caroline grits her teeth. "I can't trust the cops, okay! They're all in the Ukrainians' pockets."
"Not all. I'm gift-wrapping this one and giving him to the one of the good cops I know." He inclines his head. "Goodbye."
"Wait!"
Daredevil pauses.
"I want to make a bargain."
The vigilante drops Kai unceremoniously to the ground and turns his full attention to her. "You want to make a deal with the devil?" He smirks.
"Funny. Listen, we can help each other. Let me tell you everything I know about the Ukrainians. You take them down, deliver them to the police. I get the scoop and get to impress my boss. Sounds good?" She stares up at him with beseeching eyes.
Daredevil exhales in exasperation. Then, to her surprise, he agrees. "It's a deal."
"Great." She scrabbles in her purse for a pen. He stops her.
"No need. I'll find you."
"Creepy. But okay."
He lifts up Kai again like a sack of potatoes. "Until then, Caroline," he says with a grin that sends heat coiling in her gut.
She watches him disappear into the darkness with a faint smile. She has an article to write.
Let me know what you thought! I'd love your reviews and comments.