Notes: I've been furiously writing things for klarolineauweek (happening on Tumblr) and I decided to pop this one in! I'm maybe stretching the theme a bit (AU: All Human – Celebs) but Klaus is kind of famous in this one, right? Please enjoy, and thanks to everyone who's still reading!

JANUARY – SUNDAY

Klaus:

"Can I get you another one?"

Klaus startles at the voice, the twitch of his hand causing his beer bottle to topple to the table with a clunk. He hadn't heard the waitress approach, lost in his own thoughts, and the odd bout of nerves he'd been experiencing.

She reaches past him, and collects the bottle with a sympathetic smile, setting it on her tray, "Let me guess. First date? Maybe someone you met online? I wouldn't worry about it. You're hot enough that she's not going to immediately take off. Sometimes a poor guy will wait here for hours."

Klaus clears his throat, shaking his head, "No, actually. Not a date. Just meeting a friend for dinner."

It's absurd that he's nervous, Klaus knows, about seeing Caroline. It's not even been that long, but he feels like something has shifted, between them. He'd caught himself being more open, than he usually likes to be, in the texts they'd exchanged, the distance between them making it easier.

He might have felt a tiny flutter of joy when Caroline had first asked him to dinner. He'd read the text more than once, sure he was misinterpreting it. His mind had begun to whirl with plans, thinking that she was giving him the go ahead, that she'd thought about it, and was ready to test out something more than just friends. So he'd sent back a joke, to test the waters. Only to have his burgeoning hopes, those plans he'd been outlining, quashed when Caroline had quickly reaffirmed that her invitation was for a strictly friends-only outing.

And Klaus was fine with that, truly. He liked spending time with Caroline, and he'd meant it, when he said that he had no ulterior motive. But that didn't mean that he didn't harbor some ideas about more, and that they didn't occasionally get the better of him.

The waitress casts a skeptical eye towards the napkin Klaus has been methodically shredding, as he watched the door for Caroline, before sweeping the detritus onto her tray. She's just about to say something more, probably something nosy, Klaus thinks, when the bell above the door sounds, cold air sweeping into the room. They both look up, and Caroline walks in, shaking snow out of her hair. She catches sight of him immediately, and shoots him a smile, that Klaus doesn't even consider not returning, before she begins weaving through tables, making her way towards him.

The waitress lets out a quiet snort, casting him another disbelieving look, "Pro tip, buddy, if you want people to buy that she's just your friend maybe try not to beam like such a goober that when she smiles at you. It makes the whole thing less convincing, when you practically glow in the dark like that."

Klaus shoots her a withering look and she holds up a hand as she backs away, "Yeah, yeah, none of my business. I'll let your, ahem, friend, get settled, and I'll be back to take your order. Maybe consider some wine? It's more romantic."

She walks away, without another word, or any more helpful hints, probably fearing for her tip. Klaus stands, as Caroline comes up to the table. She reaches out to hug him, and Klaus finds that he doesn't quite know what to do. He's not much of a hugger, and he doesn't know where to put his hands. Eventually he settles them on the middle of her back, tentatively returning the pressure she's exerting.

When Caroline pulls back, it's with an affectionate eye roll, "Yeah, we'll work on that," she says decisively, pushing him away as she strips her coat off.

"Work on what?" Klaus asks.

"The hugging, duh. I give you a C+ and that's only because I'm generous. And I've been through this with your sister. I'd work on Kol next, but I don't trust him not to grope my ass, as a tactic to get out of it, just yet. First lesson, try not to act like I have a communicable disease, and you're the hardest core germaphobe in existence, okay?"

Klaus laughs, sitting down again, once she's gotten settled, "How many lessons are there? Will I be tested?"

"You'll have to wait and see. And maybe," she answers him, tone teasing. She drums her fingertips on the table, her expression brightening, "So, tell me all about Hollywood! Did you see anyone famous? Make out with any supermodels? Gimme all the dirt!" She's leaning forward, gesturing animatedly, curls bouncing around her shoulders. Klaus hates to disappoint her, but his trip had been decidedly lacking in glamour.

"I'm afraid I've nothing much of interest to divulge, love. I mostly sat across the table from a series of writers. Several of whom seemed to think that telling me I'm a genius would make up for their blatant misunderstanding of my characters. I thought the terrible spec scripts would prepare me. I was wrong."

"Poor baby," Caroline replies, plucking her menu from the middle of the table, obviously unsympathetic to his plight. "An all-expenses paid trip to Los Angeles, staying in a fancy hotel, and you actually had to do work? How awful for you."

Well, when she put it like that, it might seem like he was whining a bit. "I did enjoy the lack of snow, it's true."

"See? Tiny silver lining!" she claps, mockingly for a moment, "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Am I really so gloomy?" Klaus asks curiously.

"I didn't say gloomy." Caroline props her elbow on the table, putting her chin in her hand and studying him, "Maybe just a little bit of a pessimist."

"I prefer to think of myself as a realist, thank you. But, if you'd really like to know about the fun side of L.A, I'm sure Marcel has a story or two. He indulged in the nightlife, more than I did."

Mostly because Klaus had been glued to his phone, something he'd weathered Marcel's good-natured mockery for, but he wasn't about to tell Caroline that.

Caroline just shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips, "I will do that, thank you. I feel like Marcel would have amazing stories. What's good here, anyway? I'm assuming the pizza, since you picked it. But I am kind of liking the look of the fried zucchini. Want to split it?"

"That depends. Do you actually want to split it, or are you like Rebekah, and you just don't want to admit that you want an appetizer, and proceed to give my dirty looks, every time I eat some of it?"

She throws her head back and laughs, "Yeah, I hate that too. But I actually want to split it. I'm kind of over that whole pretending I don't eat in front of men thing. I missed out on a lot of good food, back when I thought you could only order salads on dates. Stupid Cosmo."

Klaus feels his eyebrows creep up, and Caroline pauses, as she registers what she'd just said. The restaurant isn't particularly well lit, but he thinks she might be blushing, just the faintest amount, "You know what I mean," she hurries to say. "And do not make fun of me, Klaus. I've been getting enough of it from Kol, as it is."

"Oh?" Klaus prompts, interested, "And what has my delightful brother been harassing you about now?"

"The usual. How you secretly want to get into my pants. And how I'm in deep, deep, denial about how I want into yours. Wait, are you telling me that I'm the only one getting shit here? How is that fair?"

She crosses her arms, looking decidedly put out, and slumping back into the booth.

Klaus attempts to reassure her, "Perhaps it's just because I've more experience with Kol's nonsense, love. The more you react, the harder he pushes. I've just learned not to give him the satisfaction. For example, for some reason he's been texting me pictures of women's knickers for the past twenty four hours. I'm ignoring them, in hopes that he'll eventually get bored of me waiting to ask him what he's on about."

Her eyes close, and she grimaces, the light flush on her skin deepening, obvious even in the dimness. Her expression hardens slightly when her eyes open, and Klaus wonders if he should warn Kol to tread carefully, once he and Caroline part ways for the evening, "Let me take a wild guess. The panties he's texting you, purple and lacy?"

Klaus blinks, surprised, because that was one hell of an accurate guess. "Yes, actually. Do you know something I don't?"

"Um, I know you're going to be down a sibling, when I get home. Because I'm going to beat Kol to death with his stupid spiralizer."

Klaus bites his lip, trying not to laugh at her vehemence, or the creative method of murder she's chosen, "Not that I don't understand the urge, because believe me, I've had it. But what am I missing?"

"I'm wearing something purple and lacy," she exclaims, just managing to keep her voice low enough not to attract any stares.

It's a struggle, not to think more on that. The things Kol's been sending him would likely contrast nicely, with Caroline's fair skin, and an attractive woman in scraps of delicate fabric is always a pleasant image. But she's agitated, so it's not the time. "I'm a bit lost, sweetheart."

"Ugh," she throws her hands up. "You're stupid brother couldn't keep his grubby paws out of my shopping bags. He's convinced I bought sex underwear. For you. I can't believe he told you about it!"

"Technically, Caroline, he didn't," Klaus points out, though he sort of can't believe that Kol hadn't. Just sending the pictures had been rather restrained.

"No, because he didn't need to," she mutters, words clipped and irritation seeping from her, "Because he knows my stupid brain just shoots out stupid things out of my stupid mouth whenever I get within six feet of you. That fuc…"

"Caroline," Klaus cuts her off, gently, before she can really build up steam. "It's fine. I quite like it, actually. That you're comfortable enough with me to not think overly much about what you say. I found myself doing the same, while I was away."

Caroline stares at him, her lips slightly parted, for several long moments, gradually relaxing. "Oh. Well then, I guess I won't kill Kol."

She says it like she's honestly disappointed and Klaus laughs again, leaning forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Do feel free to torture him, if you'd like. He usually deserves it."