Description: A Secret Service Agent and a Forgery Artist cross paths.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to The Vampire Diaries. I only claim the plot and concept.
Author's Note: Hey Guys. I know you're probably wondering why I'm posting this when I haven't updated my other stories. This is simply a treat for Klonnie Week 2021, something I started in hopes to get some fresh content out there since our fandom is dwindling lol. That said I must lead by example and post an unfinished WIP I started. I know it's a tease and who knows what may come of this so here it goes. Two chapters of lost potential lol. You've been warned lol. Just so I'm clear, this is and probably will remain unfinished, who knows.
He wasn't afforded many niceties. In truth, getting a good pencil in this place was a fight but he managed to accrue as many supplies as he could in order to create his works of art. It was a mundane task and honestly, he found it hard to find new things to draw every day but he managed. His fellow cellmate was creative enough to keep him busy.
It was while he was drawing wings on a macabre version of batman that the prison guard came to his cell door. Both men looked up in anticipation. It would either be a fight or bad news and Niklaus could honestly say he didn't know which one he'd prefer.
"You have a visitor, Mikaelson," Matt, the guard announced. Matt was one of the nicer guards. He was an asshole but he didn't go out of his way to be callous like some of the others. Niklaus stood to his feet and stretched. He placed his pencil on the ground visibly and turned around to place his hands behind his back with his thumbs facing up. His cellmate, Lorenzo, did the same, standing in the opposite corner of the tiny cell. Matt, along with another guard, entered the cell. Matt placed the shackles on Niklaus's feet and wrists and led him out while the other guard, Tyler, kept a sharp eye on Lorenzo. Once the cell was cleared, Niklaus was escorted down the cellblock where the other inmates whooped and hollered insults at the guards.
"This visitor," Niklaus began, once they were out of the noisy wing. "Is she hot?" Matt chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't see who it was but you're probably not that lucky, Mikaelson." In truth, Niklaus didn't get many visitors. His family had abandoned him and his sister Rebekah, the only person who used to visit him, ran off and married to his former best friend, Marcel Gerard. He was happy for them in the beginning but that happiness turned sour once he realized that they too, had thrown him to the side.
Niklaus went through a mental list of possible visitors and cooked up different scenarios for each possible reunion as he was led down a drab hallway. All the hallways looked the same here. Very mundane, no art or vitality. Each cinder block served its purpose and nothing more.
"Wait here," Tyler gruffed as he left Matt and Niklaus to open the door up ahead. They were then led to another room where a woman sat, awaiting them. When the buzzer sounded, her head shot up and met his. Instantly, Niklaus began to assess her. Her suit was pristine and so was the ponytail that was swept behind her head meticulously. Her nails were filed down and painted with a slight tinge of bubblegum pink that flirted with the lines of professionalism. Her stare was hard and her eyes were a shade of green he did not expect. Her brown skin was rich and glowed despite the dull navy of her attire. Her shoes were practical and the firearm at her waist was government-issued. Based on her demeanor, her security clearance undoubtedly went through every government which meant whatever brought her here had to have been monumental.
It wasn't until he was placed in front of her that he realized that he recognized her from somewhere. The fact that Tyler didn't immediately chain his feet to the floor let him know that if he were to try anything, she would put him down.
The thought excited him.
"Good morning, Mr. Mikaelson," she greeted. Her voice was much heavier than he expected. Based on her small stature, he'd wrongfully assumed that she'd have a higher pitch. He was glad that wasn't the case. Shrill voices annoyed him.
"Good morning, Mrs…" he waited for a name and a title correction and received both.
"Miss Bennett," she offered. His knowing smile did not perturb her.
"Miss Bennett," he repeated. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She wasted no time cutting to the chase.
"I've been sent here by the Counterfeit Division of the United States Secret Service to procure your cooperation in helping us solve a case we believe to be inspired by one of your earlier crimes." It was then that she pulled a stack of files from seemingly nowhere. Niklaus's eyes traveled from her face to the manila folders stacked before her, bound with several rubber bands. Jutting from the edges were several different colored post-it notes of varying sizes and paper clips that decorated the corners of each page. He watched as her fingers danced along the documents as she freed them of their rubber bondage.
"A copycat," he surmised. Miss Bennett nodded.
"Don't flatter yourself, they're much better than you were, hence why they're still out there and not in here," she insulted, though, he sensed no real malice behind her words.
"And yet, you seek my assistance," he boasted. She said nothing to argue his case.
"Yes," she stated. "And before you ask, your cooperation will grant you a temporary sabbatical from Petersburg Correctional, in which you will be released into my custody and monitored 24 hours a day by myself and an ankle monitor. Should you attempt to escape, you will immediately return here where you will finish the rest of your sentence with time added. However, if your cooperation leads to an arrest, you will be granted an early release as well as a presidential pardon. Any questions pertaining to what I've just explained?"
"Essentially, you want me to share my dirty little secrets while you dangle a pork chop in my face."
"Yes," she answered. Niklaus smiled. She didn't mince words; he respected that.
"What if no arrest is made?"
"Then you finish out the rest of your prison sentence. Four more years and you're completely free." She was smart. Six years had been hell, the thought of living through four more years of this bullshit was daunting. Had she not mentioned how much time he had left, he was prepared to tell her where she could shove her 'generous' offer.
"How long do I have to think about this?"
"This offer expires when I walk out of that door."
"May I see the details of the case you need help with?"
"No. I may only share the case with you if you agree to assist." Niklaus sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers atop the surface. He was tall and a bit gangly. He looked as though he lost weight, but she could tell that he was solid muscle, despite his size. His legs stretched beneath the table and their knees nearly touched when he shifted in his seat. His blue eyes stared into hers, looking for any traces of deceit. He found none.
"May I see the deal?" With a stiff nod, she passed the papers across the table to him and waited until his eyes finished skimming the document. Once finished, their eyes met and Niklaus weighed his limited options.
"Seems legit," he spoke up, his voice a bit gruff. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Before he could talk himself out of it, he gave a curt nod. "Very well then; where do I sign?"
.xXx.
Immediately after Niklaus agreed and signed the contract placed before him, Bonnie began to lay the files out in front of him, as he silently looked them over, she narrated the key components of the case to him.
"A year after you were sentenced, we received an alert from a bank in San Diego saying they received what they thought to be a counterfeit ten-dollar bill. One of our agents was dispatched and they confirmed that the bill was an actual legal tender. To be on the safe side, our agent took a sample of the believed counterfeit and sent it to our lab for further examination. Everything checked out. A few months passed and we received another alert from the same bank. We don't believe in coincidences so we had another agent investigate. They confirmed that the ten-dollar bill was real and took a sample for testing. It passed." When she paused, Niklaus glanced up from the photos. She slid two identical ten-dollar bills in front of him and sat back in her chair. "Can you pinpoint which is fake?"
Niklaus studied both bills with a sharp eye. His brows dipped in frustration after several seconds of combing each detail of the bill. With an agitated sigh, he pushed the bills away from him after several seconds. "Love, if your agency couldn't spot the difference, how on earth would I be able to?" To his surprise, a small smile chiseled its way into her features.
"Oh, ye of little faith. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think you could. Look again," she urged. Niklaus held her gaze for several seconds before reaching out to grab both bills. His eyes roamed each bill meticulously, his fingers brushed over each bill. The moment he spots the differences, his brows raised as realization settled on his face.
"It's this one, he said holding up the imposter." Bonnie raised a brow.
"What gave it away?" She was curious as to how he was able to spot what her men couldn't.
"They did one hell of a job but for one, the dye used in the paper is a few pigments off. There's also the matter of the raised ink they used. The attention to detail is impeccable, however, there are just some things you can't recreate. Your ink is textured while theirs is flattened. Your ink is pressed into the bill while, as good and crafty as they are, theirs is printed." He held the bill up to the light and chuckled. "They even managed to get the security strip in the right spot. Incredible."
"Very good. What we can't figure out is how it was able to pass our tests when, as good as it is, it's still an obvious fake. Once you pay close attention to the details, it's noticeable, however, it has the ability to run through our scanners undetected."
Klaus held the bill up to the light for further examination. "I think the answer to that question, Love, lies within this mock security strip they put in place." When Bonnie said nothing, Klaus's eyes flitted across the table. If he wasn't mistaken, the look he saw was slight awe, or maybe disbelief—he wasn't sure which.
"This is where you come in. We need your help in tracking down the source of this strip. We're beginning to see more and more cases arise with larger bills involved."
"Any leads so far?" Bonnie shifted in her seat at the question and cleared her throat.
"Yes, actually," she answered cautiously. Her slight change in countenance let him know that whatever bomb she was about to drop on him was not going to be very pleasant. Niklaus watched as she thumbed through a different colored file. The dark green stood against the lighter manila-colored ones. As she carefully picked through each sheet, he realized that she was stalling. His head tilted slightly.
"I suggest you get on with it, Love." He goaded.
"Bonnie," she corrected. But Klaus didn't acknowledge it. Once she found the photo. She held it just out of his view as she prefaced it with what he surmised as a disclaimer.
"The only time we've seen counterfeit and forgery of this magnitude was when you were involved. Your work is still marveled by our team to this day, which is why I'm sitting before you now." Flattery, he recognized, but said nothing. "That said, we began to track each of your known associates to see if maybe they picked up the torch since you were put away."
"Go on," he encouraged.
"For the most part, your associates went on to assume regular day jobs, if you want to call it that. All but two, that is." Without delaying any further, she carefully placed the photo before him. Her painted fingernails delicately pushed the high-resolution photo in front of him and without a second glance, he instantly recognized the two figures shown. Bonnie watched carefully as Niklaus's eyes danced around the page. His face remained stony as he stared in silent disbelief. She silently gauged his reaction while waiting for a response. When their eyes finally met, she could see the silent rage on his face.
"Take your documents and get out of here." As he spoke, his face reddened and his voice trembled beneath his rage.
"Mr. Mikaelson, allow me to further explain the terms of your cooperation."
"You don't have to explain shit to me. You tried to trick me into some shitty deal to save my own ass and what? You thought that I'd be desperate enough to agree to something like this? You clearly don't know shit about me, Love. Six years in this shit hole was nothing. I can do four more with my eyes closed."
"Mr. Mikaelson—"
"Guards!" In efforts to drown her out, he began to bang his shackles against the tabletop as he yelled for the guards to retrieve him. As the doors buzzed open, Niklaus stood to his feet and slid away from the table.
"Don't come back here again," he instructed. Bonnie watched silently as her only hope for solving this case began to retreat. As a last-ditch effort, she stood to her feet and called out to him.
"We're not interested in her! We have reason to believe he's the mastermind in this. If you agree to cooperate, I'm willing to grant her full immunity for any involvement." Niklaus stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. As he advanced towards her, both guards, Matt and Tyler, were quick on his heels. Once in front of him, Bonnie realized that, though gangly, the man before her was quite massive in stature. Still, she stood her ground as if they were chest to chest and not forehead to abdomen. She was not easy to intimidate but he did a great job at trying.
"Do you even have the power to make that call," he questioned. Bonnie narrowed her eyes and closed the space between them.
"I can do whatever the hell I want," she challenged with a raised brow. The two of them glared at one another until Niklaus broke her concentration with a small smirk.
"Is that so, Little One?"
"Bonnie," she corrected a second time. He smiled knowing that he'd managed to get under her skin, even if it was just slightly.
"Well, Bonnie Lass. Get that to me notarized in writing and you have yourself a deal." Bonnie scowled as he turned to walk away with both guards flanking him. She rolled her eyes once the door slammed shut and began to collect the scattered papers from the metal table. She picked up the photo and concentrated on it once again, staring at the faces of Rebekah and Marcellus Gerard.