Some drabbles as I play with ideas for a new long fic! FB appreciated xx

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Caroline waited at the counter, watched absently as the barista swirled cream on the top of her iced mocha, before handing it to her, giving her a cheeky wink. She sighed in response, and glanced in the mirror at her reflection above the counter. So, turns out office chic can be sexy, she though grimly as she picked up a straw and turned to go, suddenly more aware of how tight and short her fitted grey dress was, paired with nude heels and a cranberry blazer. She pulled her shades out the handle of her leather shoulder bag and pushed the heavy glass door before her.

The downtown coffee house sat on a sunny corner of the financial district, which practically smelt of money, hunger greed and desperation, she thought, fighting down her natural distaste for it. People on a mission, driven by some great force… and she was about to join them.

As she left the crowed place, she caught the eye of a couple sitting in the window, one with their finger tapping their watch the other lost in the view of the street. She too glanced down at her watch, and felt a moment of apprehension. This was it, all the preparation, the waiting, the training, now was the moment it all came into play. She took a deep breath, and stepped out into the dazzling sunshine.

The weather was warm already, and the day was young as she turned about getting her bearings. She looked up at a towering glass skyscraper above her, and felt her bravado turn to dust. Mikaleson Enterprises, and the interview many would kill for, the opportunity of a lifetime. She steadied herself and started to walk toward the building, slightly detouring toward the curb, prolonging the inevitable really, as she rehearsed her opening lines.

They say the big moments, the monumental ones, the life changing ones, the ones that will influence the direction of your life forever, can just pass in a blink of an eye, gone before you realised it, to the point where you never can quite recall them clearly. And yet, for Caroline Forbes, this moment, the one that would be the turning point of her life, and come to define her, all those years later, seemed to happen slowly, her very blood and heartbeat slowing down, the man talking on his phone across the square and shooing a pigeon with his foot. The girl in the windbreaker, jogging right past her, a lonely flash of neon in the crowd of suits, a car pulling up to the curb, it's engine idling, the ring tone of a person passing close by, ring, ring, ring.

For those excruciating seconds, it was all heightened, the smells, the sounds, she felt as though she could see 360 degrees, and then, just like that, time slammed back into place, the world around moved in hyper motion, like a video clip catching up again, and her body was slamming into someone else's.

Before she could register what was happening, she felt the heavy coldness of ice creeping down her legs, as she stumbled upright, her feet unsure in the heels, her bag throwing her off balance, she tottered for an unthinkable moment, and then, went down, hard on her right knee.

"Fuck" she swore viciously as she felt the full impact of the pain spread up her leg, letting the remnants of her crushed plastic cup roll onto the floor, she brought her hands to her knee and shifted sideways, trying to take the pressure off her knee, without flashing the few onlookers her spectacular fall had attracted.

"Can't you watch where you're going" an accent voice came from before her, and she felt her cheeks warm realising that whoever had knocked her over had stayed to hover unfeelingly over her and witness her humiliation.

"Sir, I will help, please, just go inside."

She heard presumably the driver of the man insisting and she felt anger spike through her. A stupid rich idiot, probably on his phone, walking around bloated with self-confidence and arrogance to the point where they don't even notice mere mortals trying to go about their day, and get to the interview of their lives. The interview. She felt something horribly like tears beat behind her eyelids as she surveyed the damage to her tights, ripped and bloody, and her skirt, dripping with iced coffee. She glared at the expensive dress shoes planted before her, figuring they must cost more than her monthly rent, and glared up through her askew sunglasses.

"Excuse me… I didn't quite hear that apology… I guess I just need it translated from pompous asshole" she said and turned her attention back to her current predicament, lowering her palms to the floor, and starting the laborious process of trying to lever herself up, suddenly super uncomfortable at the thought of this guy watching. As her palm made contact with the pavement, she gasped as it stung, and she turned it over to see it was grazed and bleeding down one side with a large cut, presumably made by her damned coffee cup.

"Allow me" the voice said, and she was about to sneer another response when she felt herself being lifted up, hands under her arms from behind, as Mr fancy dress shoes stood motionless. She let out a laugh at that.

"Is something funny?" The voice asked casually as she tried putting weight on her sore knee and winced.

"Yeah, something's funny, you rich guys really do have someone to help you everything don't you? Even to offer help or be gentlemanly… what's next? Are you going to get your lacky to apologise to me too?" she bit out, as she finally turned to face her reluctant helper and catalyst to her demise.

"I wasn't aware the victim had to apologise" that same dry voice continued, it's British accent stronger now, somehow that she saw the face it went with. Dirty blonde curls, blue eyes, and a full mouth, his smirk was insult to injury. Caroline reprimanded herself for registering the strong cut of his jaw, or even noticing how attractive the damn asshole was, though she felt her face flushing as she surveyed him.

"What victim? You bumped into me… wasted my breakfast, ruined my dress…"

"I am hardly unscathed" he said, his smirk deepening as she looked him over, immaculate three piece suit without a mark, grey and pristine, blue shirt with cufflinks, even his pocket square was untouched.

"You look perfectly fine to me" she said, her eyes narrowing as his eyebrow raised.

"From vitriol to compliments –"

"It wasn't a compliment!" She exclaimed, flustered as he pulled his silk handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.

"Sir… really, please go inside, I will make sure this, er – young lady recovers" the driver was still hovering and Caroline felt her patience snap at his judgemental tone.

"Look, just leave me alone please, if you're not apologising, and you don't have a time machine, then… just go away." She said coldly, ignoring the hand offering the vividly coloured square of silk in the air.

"You're bleeding"

"Yeah, well… that's my problem, isn't it" she said as she bent and retrieved her bag from the floor, sighing as the man bent at the same time, faster than she could even register and picked up a piece of paper, about to blow away. He looked at it a moment.

"You have an interview at Mikaelson Entreprises" he sounded surprised, damn him, as though she was too ditzy to have an interview at a Fortune 500 company.

"That's really none of your business. Thanks for ruining my day" she said curtly as stuffed the interview details into her bag and slipped it onto her shoulder.

She started to limp away, without another word, heading for the sanctuary of a fountain with a wide lip, somewhere to sit and lick her wounds, leaving the man standing in the street. What a start to the day, mowed down by a hot stranger, with an even hotter accent, and completely ruining every chance she had of getting her job, before she'd even set foot in the door. She sank down on the cold stone gratefully, wincing at the cold on her bare legs. Who would choose to wear these clothes everyday? She asked herself, before reminding herself that she would have to if she got the job, then a mental face palm that of course she wouldn't, once she showed up looking like a car accident victim. Maybe that's what she should say, she thought, pulling the clinging material of her tights off the gash in her knee, gritting her teeth as the blood stuck. Glancing up, she noticed that the sexy suit jerk and his little helper were both gone, and she felt a little relieved, though, in retrospect a little embarrassed. Then she told herself to put it firmly out her mind, and concentrate on the present.

Right now, well, in 10 minutes, she had the interview she had waited 3 long months for, and she wasn't about to let a little mishap get in the way. She stood up, pasting a smile one to cover the pain her knee was giving her, already swelling and puffy through the rip in her tights. She walked toward the glass building, noting the other people entering in their impeccable suits, the women sleek and polished, and told herself not to care. There was more to business than appearances, and she had plenty substance to back her up. She limped in. The revolving door opened into a large, airy space, it was bright, and soft piano played somewhere overhead. There was a water feature in the middle of the large space, a wall of glass lifts, and extremely large art installations dotted around the place. She spotted what looked like the reception, with a security guard standing close by and made her way as gracefully as possible over to it.

"Good morning, I am Caroline Forbes, here for an interview with Miss Pierce" she said, giving the receptionist a smile, and ignoring her slightly critical look. The woman looked down at some sort of tablet, before looking up and motioning to the security guard behind her.

"Ah, yes. Miss Forbes. I'm afraid Miss Pierce is not available this morning, something has come up at short notice. You will meet Mr Mikaelson instead." The woman said calmly, and Caroline tried not to let her panic show on her face.

"Mr Mikaelson, as in… the Mr Mikaelson?" she asked. The woman frowned at her, before motioning the guard forward.

"You will meet Niklaus Mikealson, our deputy manager, Vince will escort you" she said, before dismissing her with a look.

"Is there a bathroom I could visit on the way?" she asked desperately, as the guard began to show her the way to the wall of lifts.

"I'm afraid he is waiting for you…" the receptionist said in a tone that brooked no disagreement and Caroline nodded, her need to be agreeable fighting with her desire to take of her stained and ripped tights, and clean her front a little. She did her best not to limp as she followed the guard who reminded her of Lurch into the lift, and watched as he passed a card over the eye before pressing a hidden button. He saw her raise an eyebrow at this, yet offered no explanation as the lift zoomed up. Caroline felt her nerves spring into life as she took in the lush surroundings that greeted her when she stepped out the lift. A long hall, beautifully decorated in light shades, and a wall of glass showed her stunning city views, as she followed along after her guide. As the reached a large door at the end, the guard turned to her and asked to see inside her bag. She silently handed it over, and watched him go through it.

"What, no metal detector?" she joked as he handed it back.

"No need, the lift does a full body scan" he deadpanned back, before opening the door and gesturing her forward. Not sure if he had been joking or not she started forward, her feet entering the plush carpet of the room, and she heard the door click shut behind her.

Her heart was beating wildly as she looked around, quickly realised she was alone, and felt her blood pressure lower a notch.

The wall of glass continued, though in here, the other walls were dominated by paintings. Beautiful paintings, of people mostly, though their expressions seemed sad to her, lonely, as they stared out mournfully at the city. She turned her attention back to the room the hand carved furniture, wooden ,and polished to a high shine, the leather sofa and luxurious looking pillows and throws on it, and the technology. State of the art computers and tv screens lined the far end, clustered around a desk, while the other end was shelved from the high ceiling to floor with books. The room was completely silent apart from the quiet tick of a grandfather clock.

Her tights! The thought came to her suddenly, and she realised that this might be the only chance she had, glancing around, she still didn't see any sign of someone joining her, and so, seizing the opportunity, dropped her bag and slid off her shoes. She tried to inch down the tights without pulling up her skirt, but it wasn't going to work. Determined to get them off, she bit her lip, primed her fingers to be speedy, and quickly pulled the dress of her skirt up to her waist. With it bunched up there, it was easy to grip her tights, and start to pull the off. She pulled them down to just above her knees, and returned to her skirt, sliding it back and forth until it wiggled back down over her bottom.

A throat cleared. She felt the blood rush to her face, as her hair hung over it in a curtain, bent as she was, hands back on her tights. She felt then she had two choices. Acknowledge whoever was there immediately and have to explain while standing there with her tights half off, or pretend she hadn't heard, and finish, before facing the music with some dignity. She ripped the rest of her tights off, stuffed them in her bag and to ignore the stinging that was coming from the cut on her knee. She straightened up slowly, aware of being watched, pushed her hair back from her forehead, and turned, her smile dying on her lips as she registered who was standing before her.

He looked exactly as cool and as unruffled as he had outside, and more annoyingly, had the same satisfied smirk in place as he looked her up and down.

"You!" she cried, and clapped her hand over her mouth as she did, forcing her words back into her mouth as she did. Mr Mikaelson, deputy manager to Mikaelson Enterprises, and obviously a Mikaelson by birth. Well, he certainly had the arrogance for it, she thought numbly as the urge to cry suddenly come over her. Crashing disappointment swooped down. Her interview, the job… gone… because she had been rude to a stranger and let her stress and frustration out. She really had no one to blame but herself.

"Meeting again so soon… aren't I the lucky one" he said with a chuckle, coming around his huge desk, his smile far too amused for her liking. She swallowed down her retort, and schooled her expression into a professionally bland smile.

"I'm sorry… I didn't realise – who you were" she said

"Would you have acted differently?" he asked curiously, head titled a little to the side.

"Probably not" she admitted ruefully "I just wouldn't have bothered to come all the way up here for the interview. Thanks for the opportunity, such as it was" she said, picking her bag up again, and turning to leave. She walked across the soft carpet, humiliation beating at her, his gaze hot on the side of her face.

"Miss Forbes, aren't you forgetting something?" he called as she made it to the door, her hand grasping the cold metal handle.

"My dignity?" she joked lamely as she looked back, bracing herself for a hurtful comment.

"Your shoes" he said, a proper smile appearing at her answer. She felt herself rolling her eyes at her own scatiness, and started back. As she approached him, she could still feel those blue eyes one her, inquisitive, not miss anything. Probably wondering what the crazy girl would do next, she thought sourly. She slipped her feet back into the tortuous heels and finally brought herself to meet his eyes. She smiled shortly.

"Well. I believe this interview has already lasted about 10 minutes too long for both of us… so I will just get out of your hair –"

"Do you always presume to know that other people are thinking?" he asked abruptly, leaving her staring at him, her flippant words dissipating into air. He walked slowly toward her, his hand reaching into his pocket again, and emerging with the same slip of silk she had rudely pushed away earlier.

"Would you like to freshen up? I have a bathroom, just off the office" he said, indicating a hidden door to the right of the desk, probably where he popped out from before. She nodded numbly, her fingers curling into the pocket square he had pressed into her hand. She turned from his intent gaze and turned, trying hard not to limp, made it through to the bath room.

Inside was cool, sandstone and chrome luxury, as she closed the door and turned the key in the lock. She lent back against the frame and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them, she almost screamed when she saw herself in the mirror. Blonde hair in disarray, though it was the least of her problems. She had managed to smudge her eyeliner in one eye, no doubt a stray droplet of iced mocha, leaving a black cobweb spanning over her right cheek. Her skirt was a patchwork of wet splodges, some brown in colour, and then of course, her legs. She turned the hot water on, and ran her grazed palms under it, hissing as it stung the scrapped skin there, and washed tiny dots of gravel out. She then wet a tissue, and started to wipe her knee. Catching the watery lines of blood that had streaked down her leg, she left the area to air dry and turned her attention to her face. Pulling a makeup wipe from her bag, she wiped off the black eye, and then, realising that she hadn't brought the eyeliner pen with her, had to match her other eye by removing the makeup. She looked bare and like a child as she stared in the mirror after. Not a great look, she grimaced as she pulled out a little travel brush and gave her hair a few quick pulls, before letting it settle back into it's natural loose waves.

Aware of the time she was taking, and worried about making it more awkward by lingering she slipped off her jacket, which was a looking a little worse for wear around the elbows, thankns again to the fall, and threaded it through the handles of her bag. Her fitted grey dress had capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, was tight at the waist and flowed into a pencil skirt. It was her best dress, her most professional, but now, without her make-up on, bare feet and her hair falling about her shoulders, she felt like a little girl playing in her mothers clothes.

Resigned, she turned toward the door, schooled her face into an impassively polite expression, and opened it. She wouldn't be rattled by this guy again. She had made a fool of herself, there was nothing she could do to change it, might as well just get out of there asap.

She cautiously stepped out, and looked around, eyes instantly locking with the man himself as he stood, leaning on the edge of his desk, arms and ankles crossed, his eyes instantly running over her, starting from her bare feet, right up her body, over her face and arms, before meeting her eyes.

Do not blush again, she told herself sternly, just because he is the hottest guy you've met in a while, with the most mischievous grin she'd ever seen, that was no reason not to treat him just like any wide boy who eyed her up on the street. She fixed him with a narrow look, before turning and heading toward her shoes, the implements of her escape.

As she reached them, she found that a plastic cup of Starbucks coffee had been placed on the table. She turned and looked at him in surprise, her mouth curving in a repressed smile.

"Belated I know, as is the apology… but it is better late than never… I apologise for not looking where I was going this morning" he said, coming toward her.

"My directions guy called in sick" he said, and she couldn't help it, she laughed. After the tension of preparing for the interview, and then the shock of the fall, it felt good. She glanced up at him, and saw his own full mouth was stretched in a smile. He looked at her appraisingly again, and she felt a heating of her cheeks for a moment that had nothing to do with embarrassment. She shared his gaze a long moment, before clearing her throat and looking away, toward the view.

"I like your smile" he said, and his tone, he seemed almost surprised. There was nothing seductive about it, just as though he was making an observation.

"Well… I like your apology…" she said, and was rewarded by his laugh, the tension between them disappating.

"Especially as it comes with gifts… you didn't have to go to the trouble" she said, indicating the frozen drink, so cold she could see the ice on the side.

"Not to worry… it wasn't much trouble at all… not for me at least" he said, and she rolled her eyes, wondering which poor soul he had sent out to replace her drink.

"Anyway, I would never recommend interviewing on an empty stomach" he said, and she looked sharply back at him.

"Interview?"

"You came here for one, did you not?" he said, walking around his desk and picking up a piece of paper.

"Events manager?" he said askingly, looking up at her as she hovered beside the couch.

"Well… yes, I was… but… given this morning, and Miss Pierce not seeing me… I thought-"

"You don't have to see Miss Pierce"

"But she is the director of the department-" she started, and then bit off the words, as amusement entered his gaze once more.

"And I am the director of the company… I meet everyone that is hired here, my word is final, so unless you would like to go through a 5 stage interview process… I suggest we just have one stage, right here, right now" he said, sitting down calmly in an imposing leather chair, and gesturing to the chair opposite.

Caroline walked cautiously forward, and pulled the chair back, before sitting down, trying to calm her nerves, which had suddenly sprung up, as well as the hope which was flourishing in her belly.

"I just thought… you know, after this morning, there wouldn't be much point" she said quietly.

"I thought we had covered your lack of telepathic skills… had we not?" he said pointedly, and she nodded slowly, biting her lip.

"Well then, do you have your CV, I unfortunately do not have Katherine's copy," he was saying as she pulled one out her bag and handed it to him. He smiled in response.

"I'm glad to see you were prepared" he remarked, looking through her resume. She sat awkwardly, feeling as though she should say something.

"Well, my mom used to say always expect incompetence" she said, and was pinned by an intense blue look, for a long moment thinking she'd managed to offend him this time, until this mouth turned up in a smirk and his attention fell back on her CV. She took the chance to look at the technology equipment behind him. It was impressive, and highly technical, and she couldn't actually imagine what he might need it for.

"So, Caroline, tell me, what experience do you have in organising high profile events, with a lot of celebrities, and other influential figures attending, the kind where publicity and security must be handled carefully?" he asked, and she felt relief flow there her. She started to speak, and she found her voice growing more confident as she spoke about work. This was comfortable ground and she knew where she was here.

The interview went on, and was indistinguishable from others. He asked insightful, probing questions, and she answered expertly, her preparation coming into effect. They spoke for an hour, before he put down his pen that he had been making idle notes with and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Alas, Miss Forbes, my next appointment beckons. We must conclude." He said, and stood up. Caroline, taking his cue, shot to her feet, her nerve jumping again now that the professional conversation was over. She walked back to the sofa and gathered her things, slipping on her jacket, putting her sunglasses on top of her head. They walked together over to the door, which had opened as if by magic, a minion already standing ready to escort her out.

She turned as she reach the threshold.

"Thank you, for seeing me… for giving the chance to interview after… everything" she said, finding him standing much closer than she had anticipated. He smiled slowly in response.

"In that case, I ought to thank you too, for giving me the most entertaining morning in quite a while" She avoiding pointing out that her falling and hurting herself should hardly be described as amusing for him, but held herself back.

"Oh! Here, I didn't want to spoil it" she suddenly remembered, pulling the silk pocket square out her pocket and offering it back to him. His warm hand closed over hers, and she almost jumped at the contact. The moment lasted a tick longer than it should, and her eyes shot to his in askance. His fingers were slightly calloused, and that touch felt surprisingly intimate. He looked at her, something in his eyes she couldn't quite fathom, a touch of amusement perhaps a touch of attraction, but more, a long of longing, as though she were something in a shop that he wished to buy. And then, just as that realisation came to her, it was over, his hand was withdrawing and he was stepping back, the loss of contact leaving her strangely cold.

"Keep it, as a momento. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Forbes, be careful on your way out" he said, and just like that, she was dismissed. She turned to go, glancing back only once, catching sight of him, standing in front of his glass wall, staring at the city, his face so impassive it was hard to imagine the man who had smiled and laughed with her only a short time before.

On her way out, she took in the rich furnishings, and fancy security, she was intrigued by the lift procedures, though questions to her guide revealed nothing. She looked around the lobby, noted the many cameras, wondered if Klaus watched them in his tower, before leaving. She was n't sure what he had thought, if any of it had worked… if it had all been enough. Now, well, there was nothing she could do now, but wait.

Caroline climbed the stairs of her apartments, and wearily unlocked the door. Even though it was only after lunch she was exhausted, as thought she had run a marathon, or, at the very least, a spinning class.

She stepped into her flat, and kicked off her uncomfortable shoes. Dropping her bag on the table, she started the process of relocking her door, turning the various different pieces of hardware, sliding the bolts and chains. She took safety very seriously, and it had stood her well so far.

She wandered into the living room, opening some windows as she went, and slipping off her jacket. It was hot as hell out, and these clothes were not exactly breathable. She wiggled out her dress without fully unzipping it, the woes of living alone, and grabbed a bottle of coconut water from the fridge. She felt dehydrated. Scooping up her hair, she clipped it on top of her head, and saw the light of the answering machine flashing by the tv.

"Good afternoon, Miss Forbes, this is Katherine Pierce, I am very sorry I missed you today, and wanted to thank you for coming in." the message started and Caroline stood frozen, her hand tight on the cold bottle, gripping it hard. All this work, all this training, and now she would find out if any of it was worth it.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I have had a call from Mr Mikaelson, and he was very impressed with your experience and CV, and I'm happy to let you know that we would like to offer you the position" the message continued, but Caroline didn't hear anything more. The relief was so intense, it almost made her head swim as she went through to her dressing room and pulled on yoga pants and a vest, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she went. Running with a knee injury wasn't the best, but there was no changing that now, it had been agreed months ago. She grabbed her ipod, and slipped her feet into her trainers. Before she stepped out her apartment, she sent a quick text message, and then left her phone inside.

10 minutes later she was stretching beside a bench in the park, easing her knee, very, very gently. After a while a man sat down, he opened a paper in front of his face, shielding it from view.

"Well?" he asked quietly and she jogged in place, and then made a show of stretching her neck.

"I'm in" she replied, her face giving nothing away as she watched people jogging past them, couples walking and kids playing on the swings. The young man nodded, a slight smile tugged his lips before he spoke again.

"Well, Detective Forbes, I don't know if this is how I would spend a sabbatical… but… I'm not going to try and stop you again. Just be careful… there's more on the line than your job if you get caught"

She said nothing in reply, this words sinking through her like stones.

"Be safe" he said softly, his eyes meeting hers for a moment as he stood, folded his paper, the picture nonchalance and started to wander away, newspaper tucked under his arm, pace casual, and within a moment, was gone, blended into the people strolling the paths.