A/N: So, this is a two-shot Klaroline story I've been writing for the past week or so. The second part is done, so expect that tomorrow morning. Early, as I'm leaving for a week as soon as I get the last part updated.
This is rated M, but only the second part has any smut in it.
In case it confuses you, the woman who plays Esther in both shows is Alice Evans, hence the last name in this, and the actor who portrays Mikael is Sebastian Roché, hence his first name in this. Two people have said it, and that's enough for me: Klaus's surname is spelled Michaelson on purpose. Don't worry, I know it's "actually" Mikaelson.
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. (Titles for Part One and Part Two come from the Green Day songs "Homecoming" and "Give Me Novacaine" respectively.)
Enjoy!
Part One: Nobody Likes You, Everyone Left You
A long, long time ago when Caroline was a little girl with bigs hopes and dreams, when the world was still fresh and open and good and she had no idea that things rarely turned out the way you wanted them to, she wanted to grow up and be a teacher.
Like the control freak she was, she made her parents buy her every authentic teacher play toy she could find. Every single one, whether it be a proper white board/chalk board combo with real, good quality dry erase markers in funky colours and chalk that didn't crumble upon first contact with the board, or a fun book of curriculum she wasn't entirely sure was meant for young children of 6.
Caroline played endlessly with her teacher toolset, dressing up her stuffed animals in uniforms and sitting them in front of her, making them listen to her go on and on about things she was sure teachers talked about. Like ice cream and the swimming pool and Saturday morning cartoons. Sometimes she even got her mother and father in on it, making them put on fancy clothes and come to her "classroom," which was really just the cleared out shed her parents never used.
Her obsession with teaching carried on throughout her own education. In elementary school she got in trouble a few times for standing in front of the class and pretending to teach them when the actual teacher was out of the room. When she graduated into junior high and boys became much more interesting than they previously had been, Caroline calmed her neurotic ways and strayed from her teaching dreams, choosing to focus more on guys like Stefan Salvatore.
But when high school rolled around, and she discovered she had a voice that was all her own and that people should have been listening to what she had to say, Caroline picked right back up where she left off. She would argue with the teachers, making her point by raising her voice until the teacher sent her to the principle's office.
It felt good to have people listening to her. So when applying to universities came around and Caroline got accepted to all of them, she decided to go to William and Mary and double major in education and childhood development. There, she flourished. Nobody could send her to the principle anymore. She was heard. And it was hard not to get addicted to that.
Boys were once again put on the back burner except for the occasional fling, and those never ended very well, and they stopped once she hit her second year. Caroline Forbes was focused on getting her degree. Which she did, one year early.
Feeling slightly empty with just a bachelor's degree, Caroline applied to grad school in Washington DC, and to absolutely no one's surprise she got accepted. For the next two years she worked hard to get her master's, even overseeing a class for one year as a T.A. She was almost there. She had almost accomplished her dream.
But then her father died, and Caroline's mother suddenly needed someone to take care of her.
Caroline dropped out of school, one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. She moved back home to Mystic Falls, Virginia, back into her old house which now seemed to be so much colder without the warm light of her dad.
Desperate for work, she tried to get teaching positions near her home. She tried so hard. She was fluent in Spanish and thought she could teach at an ESL school, but nobody would take her. She was too young, or not experienced enough. She was too sad.
Seven months after her dad passed away, Caroline's mother, Elizabeth, mentioned there was a job opening up in Richmond. It wasn't a teaching job, in fact it was nothing more than a glorified receptionist position, but it was something. And Caroline needed something. They weren't poor, but her father had never been rich, and they were finding it difficult to budget on the small amount of money he left them in his will.
The job, Caroline found out later, was at a publishing company. One of the best in the United States. This suited Caroline, for she was rarely ever caught without a book. Reading was her indulgence. Forget chocolates or the Internet or television. She read all books, never discriminating against a genre or an author. Never caring about the target audience, whether it was teens or five-year-olds.
Being a receptionist—an administrative assistant—was not in her plan. The job had never even been on her radar. But for her mother she went into the interview with her head held high, pretending as if being someone who picked up phones was all she had ever wanted to be.
They bought it. The next week she got a call saying she had the job. By the next she was out shopping for pencil skirts and modest blouses. Hair ties and bobby pins for her blond hair so she could look professional while also giving herself a massive headache. And the week after that she was being shown around Original Publishers' headquarters.
She worked on the twentieth floor of a twenty floor building. Surrounding her were the offices of the people in charge. The people with power. She was essentially only responsible for making sure people stayed off of the floor unless they were meant to be there, and grabbing lunch for the assistants and occasionally using the copier, but she pretended she had more to do than that when her mother asked.
Caroline's desk was right outside the elevators. Those silver doors with the company's name splattered across it in red and black lettering opened and whoever happened to be inside were treated to the sight of Caroline working hard. Directly in front of her were all of the offices belonging to the top dogs of the company, and right at the end was the biggest one of them all: the office inhabited by Klaus Michaelson, CEO.
Klaus Michaelson was the son of the extremely famous English author Esther Evans, who was best known for her self-help books, and the famous businessman Sebastian Michaelson, best known for starting Original Publishers.
Yes, the big boss man was the sole child of the owner of the company. This meant many things, but most people working at headquarters focused primarily on how his heritage effected his manners. Putting it simply, he was not an easy man to get along with. Even the board he answered to had their issues with him.
He was stubborn, cold, and manipulative. Could charm the pants off any woman in the room just to get what he wanted. Made you feel special, then tore you down. He expected everyone to bow down to him, to see him as their king. And the worst thing? He didn't even like books, a fact he openly shared when he made it clear the only reason he had taken the job in the first place was because his father would disinherit him if he didn't.
It didn't mean much in the end, his horrific attitude toward everyone in the headquarters building. He was amazing at his job. Caroline heard that he got this way due to his father's excessive berating. Most of the women she had met in the office since her first day thought that was sad, but they were still terrified of him. Even if they wanted to sleep with him.
Caroline knew the CEO of any company had a lot riding on their shoulders. They were responsible for almost everything that happened inside the company, and most didn't know what the hell they were doing. Hence why so many companies crumbled. On a certain level, it was understandable why Klaus Michaelson was so difficult, so mean, but mostly he just came across as a rich jackass with an overly enthusiastic sex drive.
Everybody within Original Publishers knew of their CEO's love for the female body. His office, according to those who had been inside of it, was covered in fancy busts of nude women. The walls were coated in paintings depicting naked women half-covering themselves with sheets.
Bonnie, his personal secretary and Caroline's best friend, told her collecting works like that were a hobby, not a weird obsession with naked chicks. According to Bonnie he had attended art school before his parents forced him to go to a university that actually had a business school. And then they forced him into the program.
Caroline's first encounter with the infamous Klaus Michaelson was not an experience she willingly thought about. It had been her first day without her trainer, Jenna, and she was already somewhat lost. Apparently picking up phones was a lot harder than it looked.
She had been working hard all day making sure everyone got what they needed and were happy. Jenna had told her not to be intimidated by the people she catered to. They were all extremely smart and very focused, which could make them come off as assholes. If something didn't go their way they would not hesitate to raise their voice. Caroline, like most other people, grew slightly more terrified of screwing up after hearing that.
Three hours into the morning, a call came through asking to speak to Klaus Michaelson. Caroline had dutifully checked to see if he had sent any notes regarding his availability (unlike the other higher ups, Klaus Michaelson never went out of his way to tell her personally), and whether certain calls were meant to go straight through to him, or through to Bonnie. Seeing he was busy all day with arduous meetings, Caroline had politely told the man on the phone that Mr. Michaelson was not available for a call at the moment, but could he please leave a message so she could make sure Mr. Michaelson got back to him as soon as possible.
This turned out to be a bad decision. The man on the phone was evidently some big agent in the process of trying to get some big author's book published. It made sense to her now that when asked for a message he responded by asking her to tell Mr. Michaelson that he would be sorry for not taking the call.
Caroline knew nothing of the seriousness of the matter until the man in question was finished with his meetings. She had tacked to Bonnie's desk the message the man had left, not thinking any more of it. Until, of course, Klaus Michaelson stormed out of his office, dark blond curls bouncing, and headed straight in her direction.
Something she found out after the ordeal was the moment Klaus stepped out of his office, it was protocol to pretend you didn't exist. You kept your eyes down and looked busy. You did not, under any circumstances, draw attention to yourself. Because he was constantly in a bad mood, and he was constantly out for blood.
Being who she was, and that was always cheerful, even when she wasn't really feeling it, Caroline smiled at the clearly upset and fuming Mr. Michaelson, ready to ask if he needed anything. She had opened her mouth, the words already starting to fall, when he interrupted her. Loudly. In front of everybody on the twentieth floor.
It was the first time she'd ever seen the man outside of his see-through office. He was slightly taller than her 5 ft. 7 in. self, but seemed to be able to make himself appear much, much larger. He reminded her of a puffer fish, expanding in strange places when threatened in order to scare off potential predators.
"Bloody fucking hell. That was a FUCKING IMPORTANT CALL! Why was I not notified?" he shouted, baring his shiny white teeth. She wondered how much it cost to get that shade of pearl.
Caroline cleared her throat, her nerves running haywire. This was not in the employee handbook. It should have been. Chapter 511, How To Deal With Your Asshole Of A Boss When He Is Yelling At You So You Don't End Up Crying In Front of All Of Your Coworkers.
"Mr. Michaelson," she began meekly, trying her best to look him directly in his sea foam blue eyes. They were hard as rock. Cruel. He could kill her with that stare if he had half a mind to do such a thing. "You wrote in your email to me this morning that you should not, under any circumstances, be disturbed as you had extremely important meetings all day."
Klaus Michaelson slammed his open hands on her the top of her desk, a loud slapping sound resonating throughout the entire office which had grown quiet the second the boss had exited his office. "I should fire you," he growled.
Caroline gasped, fear clouding her vision. He couldn't fire her. Not yet.
Klaus closed his eyes for a brief moment, looking to be in deep thought. When he opened them, they had lost none of their hardness, but he seemed somehow calmer. "But I really don't want to deal with the paper work. It was hard enough replacing Jenna," he said through his clenched teeth, which she was sure were about ready to crack. Pointing a finger at her, Klaus leaned in close enough that she could see a faint scar on the bridge of his nose. "Screw up one more time, Miss Forbes," he warned, and the way he said her name, last name or not, sent tremor after tremor down her spine until her whole body tingled, "and I will throw you onto the streets without thinking twice. Always forward my calls to my personal secretary."
At that, the scary CEO pushed himself off of her desk and walked briskly back into his office, banging his door shut behind him.
The shouting was minimal, the encounter fleeting, but Caroline Forbes made up her mind to never, ever, ever make any mistakes ever again.
Everyone in the office slunk back to their desks after the door to Klaus's office shut, except for one person. A girl around her age, maybe slightly older, came up to her with a small smile on her cute face. She had tan skin and blazing green eyes and she seemed to radiate kindness.
"Are you okay?" she asked, resting her hip against Caroline's desk.
Caroline moved to run her hands through her hair, but stopped herself when she remembered it was tied up in a tight bun. She nodded. "I think so," she sighed, looking up at the woman. She was dressed similarly to Caroline, except her pencil skirt was a dark pink whereas Caroline's was a pale blue. Their white blouses were matching, though, Caroline noticed. "That was really scary. I definitely thought I was out of a job after only a day."
The woman laughed airily. "His bark is bigger than his bite. I've been working for him since he became the CEO of this place, and trust me when I say all that anger is just his very thoroughly constructed wall."
"And I can only imagine nobody will ever be able to knock it down."
"Maybe not, but I haven't given up on him yet. He's scary, I'll admit, but you'll get used to that."
"Great," Caroline said sarcastically. "That makes me feel better."
The woman stepped in front of Caroline and flashed her another warm smile. "I'm Bonnie, by the way," she said, holding out her hand. Caroline quickly took it. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise, Bonnie. Caroline Forbes."
"I know," Bonnie whispered. "I'm the one who convinced Klaus to hire you."
Bonnie didn't let Caroline reply before she started walking back to her desk.
It wasn't such a bad day, she realised when she got home later that evening. She may have gotten on the bad side of her boss, but she met the woman who would turn out to be her best friend.
And it was the day she decided she needed therapy, but that wasn't important.
Klaus Michaelson had been in a foul mood all day. Well, he was in a foul mood every day, but this was apparently one of his Extra Foul Moods. Everyone at the office knew it, and everyone was doing their best to stay out of his way. Something about a deal with an author falling through. A rarity, but when it happened it was common knowledge that you steered clear of the boss man.
Caroline was sitting at her desk, sorting through some paperwork, readying herself to go home, when the door to Klaus's office swung open. She braced herself for a crash, but remembered they had door stoppers put in after one particularly bad day when Klaus managed to open his door so harshly it put a hole through the wall. All she heard was the door bouncing off of the rubber stopper.
She knew he was walking down the wide hallway in her direction. His shiny designer shoes clacked against the floor, growing louder and louder and louder. Most everybody else had already left, including Bonnie who was gearing up to have a baby and had special privileges which allowed her to go home early.
Caroline didn't have to stay until everyone else left the office, but after three years of working at the front desk on the twentieth floor she knew it was expected of her. After the first few times she left before Klaus, he had sent her a rather aggressive email asking—okay, it was more like demanding—her to stick around and go home when he did. This request—or order, whichever way you wanted to look at it—became more and more relevant the earlier Bonnie went home. Without his personal secretary screening all of his calls and emails, he wordlessly put Caroline in charge of all of that. She did the work willingly, if only to stay on his good side, but she had gone to bed early all of her life, and staying up past nine thirty never did her any favours.
Because they typically left the office at the same time, sharing elevator rides and heading to the garage with him walking creepily behind her as if he were her guardian angel, Caroline didn't find it odd that he was heading her way. Klaus's office was see-through, she always knew when he was readying himself to leave for the night. He had this ritual where he filed all of his paperwork and organised his desk right before he walked out. She had already texted her mother to say she was on her way home.
But she should have known something was off. Especially when she considered how bad of a day he had apparently been having.
Snapping her messenger bag shut, Caroline stood just as Klaus reached her desk. They normally didn't spoke during their walks together (most of their conversations were over the phone and were always work-related), so she was rather surprised when he opened his mouth as soon as their eyes met.
She didn't stay surprised for long. Anger flickered behind his skin, his normally pale cheeks were reddened with fury. His eyebrows looked as though they were trying to glue themselves together, and the skin above his nose was wrinkled and strained. He yelled at her only three or four times a year, but the first time it had happened had been such a horrific experience that Klaus's I'm-About-To-Yell-At-You face had been burned into her mind.
Caroline braced herself for impact.
"Miss Forbes, are you aware of what happened today?" he asked in his booming, British accent.
Knowing protocol, Caroline nodded her head gently. Her gut was urging her to shout back, but she refrained.
"And are you aware that Mrs. Parker left before the events of this afternoon?"
Yes, she knew Bonnie had gone home before Klaus got the call about the author. She had been the one to send the guy's agent straight through to Klaus while he was in a meeting.
"Then you know that I did not get my coffee after my four o'clock meeting," he said, his brows moving closer and closer together. If he wasn't careful they were going to get stuck like that.
"Yes, sir," she yielded, not actually having any clue what he was talking about. Bonnie had said nothing about doing the jobs of the lazy intern, Damon, they had floating around their floor. He had gone home three hours ago. One hour before he was meant to.
"And do you KNOW that I CANNOT FUCKING FUNCTION without my five o'clock coffee?" he roared. "And do you know that IF I HAD BEEN GIVEN MY DRINK WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO, WE WOULD NOT HAVE FUCKING LOST THIS FUCKING AUTHOR?"
Great, he was swearing now. That never ended well.
Caroline quickly gathered that Mr. Klaus Michaelson, CEO, sir was trying to blame her for the deal falling through, and was doing her best not to have a panic attack in front of him. She was a strong woman, but when people yelled at her for things she hadn't done, she felt like a squished bug. All of her the air fell from her lungs. She became two-dimensional.
"I SHOULD HAVE FIRED YOU AGES AGO. YOU'RE INCOMPETENT, YOU'RE RUDE, AND YOU ACT LIKE YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE. I AM SICK OF YOUR LAZY WORKMANSHIP!"
And with that, he turned and stormed off. He didn't even bother taking the elevator. He headed right for the door to the stairs, leaving Caroline standing awkwardly at her desk, holding desperately to the tears trying to leak out of her eyes. The two other workers still at the office had grown silent during the shouting, but now that Klaus had left were busying themselves with paperwork.
Caroline carefully picked up her messenger bag, smoothed her skirt, and wiped beneath her eyes with her thumbs, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself before she got on the road.
.1.
By the time she got home and headed for her bedroom, Caroline was mad. Beyond mad—she was livid. Never in all her years had she been so royally pissed off. Her mother was asleep, so she couldn't rant to her, and Bonnie was pregnant and didn't need any extra stress.
How dare he blame her for something that was clearly not her fault? She knew he did it often, put the blame on completely innocent people. It was just something he did. Because he was the boss and you couldn't argue with him. People who did often found themselves without jobs by the end of the day.
Caroline thought about calling her therapist, Dr. Saltzman, but though he was kind enough, she'd never called him at such a late hour. Instead of phoning him, Caroline recalled something he had told her to do whenever she was particularly angry at someone and didn't want the anger to make her do something stupid.
Sitting on her bed, Caroline grabbed her laptop and opened her personal email, clicking on the Compose Message icon at the top of the window, and started writing.
Dear Mr. Michaelson,
You are, simply put, an asshole. A jackass. A fuckboy who doesn't understand that the whole fucking world doesn't revolve around him. I clearly had nothing to do with you losing that deal with the author. It wasn't at all fair of you to shout at me. I get that I was the only one there you could even slightly blame for the problem, but maybe your lack of your social skills was what made the author turn you down. Did you think about that? No, probably not, because you have this strange idea that everybody should bow down to you simply because your daddy owns the company.
I have worked for you for three years. The only fucking reason I haven't quit is because every time I try to get a job in the field I want, they fucking turn me down. You may have only yelled at me a small number of times in those three years, but you are such an asshole that it makes up for all the days you don't utter a single word to me.
You expect people to do what you want without even telling them! You expect them to understand what it means when you blink three times in succession, and then get fucking pissed when they don't fucking get it! I wish I could quit, but unfortunately you pay me too well for that to be something I would consider doing.
So, you suck. You can go die now. Thank you very much for being the absolute worst boss in existence.
Sincerely,
Caroline Forbes
Out of force of habit, Caroline dragged the mouse over the Send button, but quickly took her hand off of her laptop's trackpad when she realised what she was doing.
"That was close," she whispered to herself, pushing the laptop off her knees.
Something jumped on the bed, startling the blond girl. Looking at the end of her bed, Caroline saw her Diamond Eye cat, Snowball, kneading the covers. Caroline clicked her tongue, and Snowball bounded over to her.
"Good kitty," she murmured, scratching Snowball's chin to the sound of soft purrs.
Caroline felt better. The therapeutic Angry Email, as Dr. Saltzman called it, and her cat managed to quell the fire charring her insides.
She had gotten Snowball after work one day after finding the white kitten limping at the side of the road. When Caroline took her to the vet they found no chip and she had yet to be spayed, meaning she was most likely a stray. With the thumbs up from her mother, Caroline brought the kitten home that night.
Snowball was a sweet cat. The vet put her at roughly three months when Caroline brought her in, and that had been two and a half years ago. She was still very much a kitten, but she was very friendly and was good at not tearing up Caroline's things.
Snowball grew tired of Caroline's attention and started walking around her, rubbing her fur over Caroline's body, a sign she wanted food.
"You hungry, girl?" Caroline asked as Snowball weaved behind her back.
Snowball stepped out from behind Caroline just as she was getting up to feed her, causing Snowball to skittishly jump to the left. The cat landed right on the laptop. Caroline started laughing, but quickly stopped when a loud ping echoed around the room.
A/N: What do you think? Feel free to tell me. Unless it's rude, then I'd rather you say nothing.
Fun Fact: Snowball is the name Margaret Gilbert gives the white kitten she finds (who's really Katerina von Swartzchild) in The Vampire Diaries books. Thought it was fitting.
Until tomorrow,
LoveIsATemple