Chapter One: Beware the Muffin Man
Joy is an emotion ineptly felt. There is little that can be done to sustain it and yet so much to jeopardize its luster. As time trudges forward joy dissipates and those who are lucky end their days with contentment, while others are left to suffer in a meaningless ring of numbness. To avoid the inevitability of detachment, artificial bonds are formed and value is placed on arbitrary things in order to instill some sense of self-importance.
Through the drudges of life, so many seek to find a meaning. To see where the division between dark and light lies. Is there a cap to sin? To sorrow? To pain? Or is instead the world a never ending array of crippling lies filtered through pretty mouths with good intentions. All seek meaning, but none truly find it. Those who claim they have throw themselves into it. Blaming some larger power they jeopardize their friends, family, and well-being all in the name of their greater calling. Such was the case with Elizabeth Forbes.
She was a woman of great moral compass. There were no gray areas in her life, only the good and the bad. Elizabeth Forbes found her calling at the age of seven. Attending her father's funeral, she was not overcome with the constricting grief the world was expecting to descend upon her. Instead the young girl–with a good heart and simple mindset–looked at the mourners in attendance. Never had she seen so many people and Elizabeth doubted she ever would come across so many again.
As her father's service continued, Elizabeth listened to the stories of a man who was more than a dad. He wasn't just someone who checked the closet for monsters or stayed home when she was sick. Elizabeth's father was more. He was a hero. His stories of bravery would outlive him, as would the people who he served to protect. No one rose to praise Elizabeth's father on the bedtime stories he told or the tea parties he willingly attended. To the world he was not a father, but rather something of legend–the same kind of hero as shown on T.V.
That day changed the story of Elizabeth's life. She modeled her existence after the pristine image of her idealized father–a man whose death she remembered more than his life. She graduated with top marks from the police academy and establish a career where she helped as many as she possibly could. When the time came, Elizabeth married the first man who asked and soon thereafter had a child–completing her image of the perfect family. This allusion would not last.
One thing Elizabeth did not understand was that her father never put work first. While the world may have seen him as the young man who fought to protect his community, he saw himself as nothing more than the daddy to a precious little girl. She'd loved him for this reason–a love her own daughter would never be able to extend towards her.
Instead of being a dedicated parent, Elizabeth Forbes was a workaholic. She chased down what she thought was her heritage, but in turn sacrificed a healthy relationship with her child. To the townspeople she was the same hero her father was, but to her baby girl, Caroline, she was nothing more than an acquaintance.
Unsurprisingly, Elizabeth's marriage fell apart quickly. Her husband, William, left before Caroline could read. From that point on, though Liz did the best she could, Caroline was left virtually parentless. Unlike her mother, Caroline didn't have the luxury of bedtime stories and tea parties, instead she was raised by the families of Mystic Falls who watched her while her mother pulled double shifts and all-nighters.
In the end Sheriff Forbes died the same way her father did. In the line of duty–protecting someone who was unable to protect themselves. At her funeral the same stories of bravery and heroism that had once been used to describe her father, now immortalized her–the hero of Mystic Falls. People told Caroline that she was blessed, for not all had an angle as a mother. Anyone looking from the outside may have thought Elizabeth Forbes left behind the perfect legacy–one filled with honor and valiance. But to Caroline her mother left behind nothing but insecurities and self-doubt.
She was seventeen when her mother died. Caroline completed her high school education and moved on to college, where she pursued–but never completed–a degree in psychology. Those who knew her described Caroline as someone with great light, but this was only because her joy stood so stark against the sorrow embedded in her heart.
Eventually Caroline fell into the same vicious cycle as many. Those who were abused often become the abusers. In her case she turned in a psych major for a badge. Turns out she too was meant to wear blue.
She excels in the field. Works well with the victims. Caroline Forbes is the perfect mix of compassion and ruthlessness. Everyone who works with her says she was meant to bear the shield–and she agrees. Like her mother and grandfather before her, she sacrifices her time and puts her all into work; however, she would not be making the same mistakes as her predecessors.
Caroline knew her mother idolized her father. Liz's whole life was spent trying to reach an unattainable objective and, because of this line of work, she wasn't a wife and she wasn't a mother. Caroline grew up in a makeshift foster system, bouncing from family to family, becoming independent before most learned the alphabet. She wouldn't allow herself to put anyone in the same situation. She'd do her job, but she wouldn't bring any child or man into it. Not that she was having much luck in that aspect of her life.
She'd had relationships. A high school school sweetheart that lasted well into college, as well as a boyfriend while in the academy. Both were static moments in her life. They weren't great loves and–after an incident while on the job a few months back–Caroline was convinced love was not in the cards for her.
Not that she was bothered by this fact. She loved her job. Working up the ranks kept her on her toes. Going from a traffic cop to detective in record time for her precinct, Caroline solved many of the major cases that her small town had to offer. Vandalism was cut nearly in half and many said she would be the youngest Sheriff the town had ever seen. She disagreed–a small town life wasn't enough for her.
For a few years she bounced around between precincts, spending time in major cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, before discovering her true calling: undercover work. She was a natural–played the perfect distraction every time. It provided a new thrill that she fed off like a junkie. So much so that some would argue she became reckless–trusted the wrong people.
That's how she ended up where she is today. New York Police Department's narcotics division. It provided a constant workload and it was just the distraction she needed after months in recovery.
New York was Caroline's chance to start anew. Stale coffee, endless paperwork, and a grumpy captain whose name she couldn't ever seem to remember encompassed Caroline's personal heaven–an escape from the Hell that had at one point been her life.
There was little to be said about narcotics, the cases were, for the most part, routine–especially for someone new to the area. A kid dealing drugs, a junkie overdosing, it was all in a day's work.
"Not exactly the glamour you expected, Goldilocks?" her partner asked while Caroline finished some last minute paperwork–burning the midnight oil.
"Maybe, but it's exactly what I needed," she replies, not making eye contact.
She liked Enzo well enough. He was a decent cop, knew the area, and didn't push her for information she wasn't willing to give. He was a tad too flirtatious for her tastes, which put her on edge until she realized he was like that with all women.
"What I don't get, and stop me if I'm overstepping, is why any cop in their right mind would leave homicide for a bunch of crack-whores and deadbeats."
Caroline rolls her eyes, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her. All the cops in this precinct wanted the same thing–to get out. The long hours and non-interest of the public made the thankless job of being a police officer all the more bleak. She too had once gunned for a space in the homicide division at one time, she'd wanted to have her name in the headlines as the detective who solved a high profile case, but then reality sunk in. Families destroyed, horrendous crime scenes, and people gone forever–most of whom did not deserve the fate bestowed on them by their fellow man. That was the reality of homicide. It was better here, in narcotics. Things were black and white. People made choices and those choices sometimes cost them their lives, but at least it made sense.
"You've obviously never worked a homicide case," is all she says.
Enzo huffs, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk as he looks her over, "doesn't matter. I've seen enough addicts to last a lifetime. Work this job for more than a couple weeks and I'm sure you'll regret this decision and go running back to whatever place you came from."
Finishing her report, Caroline closed her computer, "we'll see about that. See you tomorrow, Enzo."
Walking out of the building, Caroline checked her work phone, ensuring that the ringer was all the way up. She'd found out the hard way what can happen by one missed call and she wasn't the type of person to make the same mistake twice.
It took two months for New York to feel like home; it took three for the subways not to cause her skin to crawl. Caroline was quickly growing used to The Big Apple, when one day in early September her perfect world in the NYPD was turned on its head–not that she knew this at the time.
It was a rare day when Caroline actually wanted some time away from work. She was in central park, reading a trashy novel she'd picked up at the second hand bookstore in her neighborhood when it–or rather he–happened.
"Hello, love," his melodic voice practically purred as he took the seat next to her on the bench.
She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his obvious ploy. This man clearly knows he's attractive, he knows that most women would probably find his accent alluring, but she's been there–done that. Blond curly hair and dimples wouldn't be enough to sway her from her precious moment of free time.
The best tactic, she'd concluded, was to ignore the unwanted source of attention.
"Come now, the least you can do is give me your name," the British man who she was not attracted to whispered.
When met with silence, he simply moved closer.
His behavior was unprecedented and she was about to reach for her pepper spray when he spoke again, "I need a favor."
Signing, Caroline marked her place, "and what can I possible do for you?" Her tone is exaggerated and harsh.
"She speaks!" he exclaims.
Rolling her eyes, she was about to go back to her book when he elaborated, "My brother is looking for me and I need you to talk with me–make me look a little less inconspicuous,"
It was then that she truly sized him over. He was wearing a dark Henley, under a darker sweatshirt that was slightly too warm for the early September weather. The hood was up and his face was flushed, like he'd been running.
"Fine, what do you want to talk about?" she indulges.
"You. Your hopes, your dreams, everything you want in life," he answers without missing a beat.
She scoffs, "where did you get that from, the back of a fortune cookie?"
"In my defense it's worked wonders in the past," he smiles, not ashamed of admitting his blatant pickup line.
She nods, "I'm sure, but just for the record I'm too smart to be seduced by you."
"Come on love, take a chance. What do you have to lose?"
Sending him a look which clearly said she wasn't falling for his tricks, she gave him an honest answer to his original questions, "I want to help people. I want to be the best at what I do and I won't let anything stand in the way of doing what's right. That's all I need."
He nods, looking her over, "that may be all you need, but is that truly all you want, love?"
Caroline stills, growing uncomfortable with the route this conversation with a complete stranger was taking, "my work is enough for me."
He stretches his arms across the back of the bench, "I think you're worth more than a 9-5 job."
The sincerity in his voice unnerves her.
"Well, I guess that's because you don't know me very well." She stiffens, feels her walls coming up.
"Perhaps," he agrees, but the way he's looking at her makes her feel like he's dissecting her. She can't shake feeling exposed under his gaze.
Before she can respond something in the distance catches his attention and he swiftly says his goodbyes and disappears into the crowd emerging in central park.
Still stunned by his previous audacity, Caroline was only brought out of her stupor when her work phone buzzed.
Enzo: 10:29 AM
Gomez bailed, need you to fill in.
Caroline: 10:30 AM
Day off. Find someone else.
Enzo: 10:30 AM
Can't perp has a thing for blondes.
Carline: 10:31 AM
Then bleach your hair.
Enzo: 10:35 AM
Decided it wouldn't be a good look. Please? I'll owe you one.
Caroline: 10:37 AM
Tempting, but no.
Enzo: 10:38
Did I mention perp has a thing for jailbait?
Great, she thinks to herself, now I'll look like the asshole trying to get out of work at the risk of letting a pervert run loose.
Caroline: 10:42 AM
Fine, just know I hate you.
Enzo: 10:42 AM
Love you too, Gorgeous. Pick you up at 8, dress inappropriately.
Enzo: 10: 42 AM
*appropriately ;)
Rolling her eyes Caroline resigns to the fact that her novel will have to wait and instead looks over the case file Enzo had emailed her.
The perp was a dark haired male with pale skin. According to his rap sheet he liked heroin and sleeping with underage girls. Some of the case notes said that it looked like he might have loose ties to the Salvatores–local drug pushers in New York. Caroline, or anyone else from her unit, had yet to find anything concrete on the Salvatores. They, unfortunately, were good at what they did. Outside of those well versed in the drug world, they were just another elite family who threw lavish parties with their closest friends–only their closest friends consisted of drug dealers, human traffickers, hit-men, and mobsters who would put Al Capone to shame.
Looking at the case statement, Caroline saw that Enzo hadn't entirely lied. The perp, Kai Parker, did seem to have a thing for blondes...and brunettes...and redheads...and basically anything with a pulse, which she supposed she qualified as.
With her day thoroughly spoiled, Caroline set out to sulk at home until Enzo picked her up for the usual short term undercover narcotics work. She'd pretend to be a loose girl in search of a good time, Kai would do something stupid, and maybe–if they were lucky–Caroline would get home before the Sopranos marathon ended.
Of course Enzo was late, so they didn't make it out until a quarter to nine.
She was dressed in a tight royal blue dress that reached her mid thigh, it left absolutely nothing to the imagination, but in her experience playing coy rarely got her what she wanted.
Enzo drove her to a club called The Hummingbird owned by a local rich playboy. Low lighting, extensive alcohol selection, and several exits make it the perfect devil's den for someone looking to deal or obtain drugs. Needless to say this was not Caroline and Enzo's first time spending an evening in this illicit establishment.
Leaving their first names at the door, the two partners parted their separate ways once in the building. Caroline sat at a booth with a clear view of the entrance so she could catch Parker when he walked in and Enzo kept his distance, wanting to only step in if absolutely necessary.
Sipping her martini, Caroline felt time grow still. The hours dragged on and even though they knew Kai would make an appearance, having to wait for him to do so was excruciating.
She was halfway through her third drink when a familiar stranger plopped down next to her.
"Nice to see you again, sweetheart," the Brit from early today said.
"Go away," she ordered. This man had a unique talent to ruin everything. First her perfect morning and now her assignment. If she didn't need to keep a low profile she might have said some rather unsavory things.
"Really? After all we've been through how can you push me away?" he jokes.
"Easily," she said standing up, "if you'll excuse me," she turned to walk away but the man grabs her wrist, halting her movement.
"At least tell me your name," he implores.
"Amanda," she lies and he laughs.
"I know that's not true, Caroline."
She freezes, all of her training coming into play–she doesn't like others having the upper hand. Caroline relaxes a little when he lets out a jovial laugh at her expression, "I own this place, love, getting your name wasn't all that difficult."
"That's cheating," she accuses, but he just laughs at her.
"A cheater and a liar, what a pair we make."
As someone who makes a career out of pretending to be someone she's not, Caroline doesn't like not having control over the story.
"My name is Klaus," he extends his hand and she takes it.
"Can I go back to my evening now?" she asks, eager to get rid of him–her eyes darting every now and again to the door.
Klaus waves his arm towards her table, "you puzzle me, Caroline, but I'll figure you out yet," He flashes her a dimpled smile then goes to solve a commotion at the bar.
A half an hour later Kai walks through the door and Caroline has never been happier to see a convicted felon in her life. He walks through the club, buys a bottle of scotch, then sits in a dark corner of the room.
Hiking up her dress and cursing herself for letting Enzo guilt her into this, Caroline makes her way over to her target.
"Is this seat taken?" she asks, playing up how drunk she is.
Kai doesn't hesitante, "yes, but my lap is always free."
And just like that Caroline had him hook line and sinker. They ordered a few drinks, flirted a little, his hands started drifting, but other than that it was nothing Caroline couldn't handle, that was until the rule of threes kicked in.
Klaus practically tore her arm out of the socket pulling her off of Kai.
"I told you that you weren't allowed here anymore," he growls, shielding Caroline from Parker with his body.
"And I told you that if your sister didn't like it she would have asked me to stop." Kai says, winking at Caroline.
'It's not up for debate, you either leave now or I'll call security." Klaus threatens.
Grumbling, Kai drunkenly stands, "fine, come on gorgeous, I've got a king-size with your name in it. I mean on it." He hiccups in his drunken state.
Inwardly Caroline is thinking two things, one that his man couldn't hold his liquor at all–especially for someone who took more narcotics than five average junkies put together–and two that Klaus was going to completely screw this up.
She was right on both counts.
"She's not going anywhere with you," he says.
Kai laughs, "if she wanted you she wouldn't have been all over me while you ogled her from across the room."
That's when Klaus's fist somehow inserted itself into Kai's face. From there it all went downhill. The two break chairs, bottles, and probably limbs as they let out whatever repressed anger they have towards one another. Enzo and Caroline sneak out before either Klaus or Kai realize they've left. The partners agree that the captain wouldn't hear a word of this.
Slightly hungover, Caroline walks into work the next morning ready to put last night's debacle behind her. She hadn't caused the scuffle, nor had she participated in it, so she figures if she kept her head low it would be like the assignment at The Hummingbird had never happened.
While her logic was sound, unfortunately Caroline forgot to take into account her rotten luck. Not even five minutes into the work day her captain–Alaric Saltzman–called her into his office.
Ready to plead her case and ask for a second chance she was surprised to see that they weren't the only two in the room. A woman with long curly brown hair and an older man who bore a striking resemblance to the Pillsbury Dough Boy stood on either side of the captain's desk.
"Officer Forbes, please take a seat." Pillsbury said.
Confused and only slightly afraid, she does as she's told. No one spoke for a long while, allowing the room to marinate in a unique kind of awkwardness.
The brunette was glaring at her even though Caroline was certain she'd never seen the woman before in her life, Alaric looked annoyed, and Pillsbury kept licking his lips like he was distracted by the taste of his own saliva.
"If this is about last night, sir, I promise it won't happen again," Caroline vowed.
The brunette rolled her eyes and made a rather rude noise that Caroline chose to ignore.
"Last night is why we're here," Pillsbury says, "I'm agent Miller and this is my associate agent Pierce. We're with the FBI."
Caroline repressed the urge to roll her eyes. It must have been the small town cop in her, but she couldn't stand feds. They went where they weren't needed and avoided where they were.
"Parker is a class D felon. Why is the FBI Interested?" Caroline asks.
This time the bitchy brunette speaks up, "if we wanted Parker we would have gotten him already."
Caroline can hear the insult in her voice, but since her boss is in the room she chooses to be civil.
"Then why are you here?" she swears getting information from these two is harder than from some of the criminals she has integrated.
"For the past year and a half we've been tailing the Mikaelsons. Do you know who they are Ms. Forbes?"
"No, sir." Caroline says focusing her attention on Pillsbury–agent Miller.
"Their family has a near monopoly on illegal activity in most of New York, Chicago, and New Orleans. Not to mention ties with drug trafficking in Vancouver and Rio. Agent Pierce's sister has retired from the field and with her we lost our biggest lead. The Mikaelsons aren't trusting of strangers, losing Tatia put our investigation back almost to square one."
Wishing they would just get to the point Caroline says, "I'm sorry, but I don't see how I can help you."
Pillsbury hands her a file.
"We need you to go undercover," he says.
Opening the manila folder, Caroline's heart stops. Staring back at her are the same pair of blue eyes she'd seen twice yesterday.
And just like that she knows she's totally screwed.
Author's Note:
I've been wanting to write this story for over a year. Let me know what you guys think, I'm excited for you all to see how this tale unfolds.
-ShakespearianNerd