Note to everyone, yes I have already posted this then deleted it (twice) but decided I want my Klaroline legacy to be recorded on fan fiction, even if I don't end up finishing it! Let's hope it will give me the motivation to update : )

Lessons in Diplomacy

Prologue: Déjà Vu

3100 Massachusetts Avenue NW, Washington DC

Caroline pulled her coat around her chest attempting to ward off the chill, Washington DC was a bitch during winter and no matter how many layers she wore it didn't make a difference.

She wasn't going to lie; the stately house hidden behind the foreboding gates ahead was extremely intimidating. Located in the well-known Embassy Row neighbourhood, Caroline had to admit she'd stared wistfully at the British Ambassador's residence on more than a few occasions.

This time, unlike the others, she was actually venturing inside. Her gloved hands grabbed onto the bars, taking in the impressive sight before finding the intercom nearby and pressing it firmly, trying to contain her nerves.

Caroline wasn't quite sure why she was so anxious, she was a fully qualified nanny that came highly recommended from her elite DC agency and the Ambassador would be lucky to have her as his babysitter. It was only for one night after all. His normal sitter had come down with the flu and the embassy had called requesting a replacement for Saturday night.

When her agent Jenna had called yesterday to ask if she could meet with the Ambassador, Caroline had jumped at the opportunity, not only because of his high profile position but the fact he expected an interview for only one night's work which demonstrated a deep affection for his child.

"Miss Forbes?" She was broken from her trance, faced with a burly, uniformed guard on the other side of the gate.

"Yes, that's me," she squeaked, wondering why she was so overwhelmed by the situation. It wasn't like she hadn't been in an embassy before, surely the residence would be more comfortable if anything. The gate opened slowly, and she followed dutifully behind the guard, desperate to get out of the cold so she could defrost. As she neared the house, she could make out the lights illuminated in selected windows, wondering just what was happening inside.

The front door opened and before Caroline knew it she was ushered inside by an older looking lady who took her coat and pointed her towards a large lounge room with plush couches and an inviting open fire. She looked around the high ceilings and the impressive artwork dotted across the walls thinking she could get used to this place. As much as she loved the shoebox she shared with her best friend Katherine, Caroline would love to curl up on one of the couches in front of the fire with her favourite book.

"Ah hem," she heard someone clear their voice behind her. She swivelled around, plastering on her most impressive smile, but faltering when she was faced with him. His lips were deliciously crimson, his eyes a deep blue and his dark, blonde hair curled teasingly over his ears, not to mention the white henley that was fitted snugly across his toned chest. She tried desperately to avert her eyes, hoping this was a dream and the gorgeous man in front of her was just another staff member. She hoped so anyway as a wave of déjà vu overcame her.

"Miss Forbes?" He asked, peering at her curiously, his distinct, English accent not lost on Caroline. She could only manage a nod by way of response because her mouth was decidedly dry and the dread began to fill her stomach. "So, should we begin the interview?"

"Aren't we waiting on someone?" She asked, hoping that they were, this guy couldn't be the Ambassador, he just couldn't be because otherwise it would be really embarrassing.

"Oh she's already in bed, I assumed being a babysitter you might have known that," he replied, somewhat tersely. Of course she knew that and had to fight the urge not to roll her eyes in his direction. "I really should have introduced myself, I'm Klaus Mikaelson." He stepped forward and took her hand, his aftershave filling her nose as his touch caused heat to spread through her body unpredictably.

"Ambassador," she murmured.

"You can call me Klaus," he offered and Caroline was madly hoping he wouldn't remember the last time they briefly crossed paths, especially if he was entrusting his child with her for an evening.

"I'm Caroline," she replied, weakly.

"You look familiar, do we know each other?" He asked, regarding her seriously.

"I don't think so," she answered, finally extracting her hand but feeling a little disappointed by the loss of warmth it created. He gestured towards one of the generous couches and she took a seat gingerly trying to gather her thoughts.

"Your agency speaks very highly of you, I have all your qualifications, including first aid training and multiple references from your previous clients," he reeled off, examining the file he had produced and perched on his lap.

"So, is there anything else you need to know?"

"I don't know, is there anything I should know?" He asked, his eyes shooting up from the file to meet hers and causing her to freeze briefly. Damn, why did she have to go and say that? Caroline blamed it on her nerves on seeing him again.

"Well, I don't like peas," she offered, shrugging her shoulders.

"Something you and my fussy daughter have in common then," he agreed. "Don't even think about sharing that little titbit with her, I wouldn't want her thinking that it was okay not to eat her vegetables."

"I'll keep my opinions to myself on that matter."

"Actually, I do have a question," he said. "What books would you read to her?"

"Well, I only have one night so that's a pretty big question given all the great options," she grinned. "Charlotte's Web, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and possibly The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. If I had some more time, why not throw in the the Little Prince too?"

"You like Antoine de Saint-Exupery?"

"Why, don't you?" She countered.

"I think you know my answer to that, I just wasn't expecting that choice I suppose," he murmured, closing the folder and placing it on the floor.

"Can I ask you a question?" She asked bravely. He hadn't seemed to recognise her so she might as well go for it.

"Of course."

"You brought me here for an interview but all you've asked me is about books." He fidgeted slightly, pushing up the sleeves on his white henley exposing his creamy skin. She swallowed hard trying to focus on the interview and not on him.

"Literacy is important to me but at the same time so is taste, Miss Forbes," he uttered. "Darcy is exactly the same, even at only eight years old. I think she'd approve."

"Well, that's good to hear." It was at that point his eyes met hers and she couldn't look away. Not because he was familiar but because he was flashing those disarming dimples in her direction. Damn him. The silence lingered in the air, it was only the interruption from one of his staff that broke the concentration.

"We have London on the line for you, Sir," he announced. She lowered her gaze, trying to contain the feelings his searing look had evoked.

"I need to go," he apologised. "I'll get back to your agent with an answer tomorrow."

"Of course, thank you," she rambled, picking up her bag and making a quick exit, even though it was difficult because her legs were shaking. "I'll leave you to your business."

As she retreated towards the door hurriedly, he called out. "Now I know why you're familiar." She chose not to turn hoping whatever flash of familiarity he had would be forgotten as quickly as it appeared."

"The Foie Gras."

"Excuse me?" She asked, wondering if he'd sneezed.

"The French Embassy. You dropped the entree onto my lap from memory." She closed her eyes briefly, before realising she had to turn around to face the music. Caroline figured if she knew he was the British Ambassador of course she wouldn't have done it to him.

"That was a mistake, I swear."

"Oh really?"

"The plate was slippery and it just fell out of my hand," she faltered.

"Tell that to the French who paid the cheque."

"It was only one meal."

"One meal of beef with not just foie gras but also black truffles, do you know how rare and expensive those delicacies are?"

"Well, now I do," she muttered. "You know if you were trying to make me feel bad, you've done a stellar job of it, Mikaelson," she huffed, her growing anger forgetting his formal title in the process. "They already fired me that night, I don't need a reminder."

"But you're a nanny."

"A nanny that needs to make a living, even if it involves bad waitressing," she sighed. "I'll have you know, I haven't waitressed since."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it, you know less dry cleaning required and all that," he chuckled, just as his assistant reappeared to remind him of that important call. She gave him an unimpressed look before stalking towards the door, slightly upset that she'd never get the chance to introduce one little girl to the Little Prince. Her arrogant father far from her mind, even if those dimples had left a little annoying reminder.