Student Engagement
Author's note: This was written for Klarosummer Bingo. Canon-ish AU in which Klaus pretends to be Alaric to spy on the dimwitted Mystic Falls gang. But he didn't count on a clever blonde distraction...
Prompt: Sexy summer secret
The Bastille in the early 18th century had been a fetid pit of fear, where one waded in ankle-deep human waste while listening to the prisoners' piteous wails. Klaus once had the misfortune of hiding from Mikael in the vermin-infested, subterranean cells of the Bastille. And it still didn't prepare him for the nightmarish scenario of teaching high school history. Maddox had handily cast the spell so that he could embody a trusted member of the doppelganger's circle. Unfortunately, this meant Klaus was trapped temporarily within mediocre flesh.
He hadn't given much thought to the tedious existence of Alaric Saltzman, but now that he was faced with the mundane details, he lamented his missing fangs to the point that he started grinding his borrowed teeth to soothe his beast. It should've been a simple exchange with the principal's head servant, but instead it spiraled hopelessly out of control. Apparently, in addition to meager pay and enduring psychological abuse on par with the Stanford Prison Experiment, teachers were expected to toil away in a gymnasium hanging tasteless dance decorations. The peasants had revolted for far less in 1381.
Klaus barely restrained himself from leaping over the desk to throttle this petty minion of public school administration. Once he was able to reclaim his true form, Klaus vowed to feed Mildred her liver. For now, he would satisfy his bloodlust by smashing those ridiculous ceramic frogs on his lunchbreak.
He marched into his classroom with a scowl as he tugged self-consciously on his wrinkled jacket. Was it some dreadful polyblend? Canvas? How did humans live like this? Ignoring the vacant expressions of Alaric's students, he lazily slid his gaze across the room to find his doppelganger.
And then he saw her. She sat next to his doppelganger, commanding the room with little more than a raised brow and a bladed smile. Caroline, Caroline. His minions' surveillance photos hadn't prepared him for her radiance. Her smile became a bit strained, and Klaus realized he'd been staring a bit longer than appropriate and quickly turned to the messy desk. What did educators do with these squawking creatures all day?
"Your attendance book is on the podium, Ric...I mean Mr. Saltzman," the doppelganger said, her familiarity with this borrowed shell making him sneer.
Shrugging, he casually replied, "I'm here; the rest of you seem to be here — such meaningless tasks are a waste of time — given your purpose here is to further your education."
The little blonde vampire eagerly leaned forward, notebook and pen in hand in such an endearing manner. The things he could teach her. Bollocks. Focus. Squinting with Alaric's poor eyesight, he spied haphazard scrawling on coffee-splotched pages and saw that he'd intended to lecture on the '60s to tie in with the Decade Dance. What an insufferable decade. He began writing on the whiteboard, consciously reminding himself not to use his typical artistic script with the swoops and flourishes he'd used for centuries.
"The 1960s...let's see, there was Watergate, of course, the Paris Peace Accords, the Bicentennial..."
"Those events happened in the 1970s, Mr. Saltzman," Caroline interrupted in an apologetic tone, studying the whiteboard thoughtfully. She angled her head, as though critically examining the list from several angles. He could appreciate such attention to detail. Such a pity the intriguing blonde had chosen to side with the Mystic Falls gang. But the vampire was young; there was plenty of time for her to learn that choosing sentimentality over substance was a fool's decision.
Klaus flashed her a smirk, and was pleased to see a delicate pink began to color her cheeks. "Thank you, Caroline. I suppose when you get to be my age, the centur...um, decades all mush together."
She raised a eyebrow at that, but instead bowed her head to her notebook, seemingly biting back a smile that Klaus was quite curious to explore further. However, the squeaky nattering of the class made him realize he'd been caught staring at Caroline yet again. Bloody hell.
Clearing his throat, he said, "I wish there was something good I could say about the sixties, but...actually, they kind of sucked. There was the Bay of Pigs, the Cuban missile thing, escalation of the Vietnam War, assassination after assassination after assassination..." He paused, sifting through the decades of the 20th century and trying to pinpoint something relatively benign about the '60s. "But also there were the Beatles. They made the decade bearable." He found himself wondering if Caroline enjoyed the Beatles...
"With all the political turmoil and social unrest of that decade, it's surprising that pop culture thrived with so much optimistic messaging," Caroline unexpectedly volunteered.
Clever little vampire. Klaus found himself responding to her enthusiasm, and ridiculously wished that he'd come to class more prepared. "Right. Yes, the...pop culture...like uh...well, Gilligan's Island was a sitcom with a clever premise." He ducked his head bashfully, feeling an inexplicable urge to share a piece of himself with Caroline. "I was quite partial to the episode in which Gilligan performed a musical version of Hamlet."
Caroline's blue eyes widened, and her enthusiastic squeal was delightful. "Oh, my god! Ginger's Marilyn Monroe impression was everything!" They grinned at each other, and Klaus was hard-pressed to recall that he was impersonating a bland, middle-aged educator and needed to muddle through some semblance of a lecture.
Like scalping a foe with a spoon, the minutes dragged by, and Klaus white-knuckled it all the way through, breathing a sigh of relief when the bell finally rang. As the students filed past his desk, he inwardly grumbled, irritated that the entire purpose of this nonsense was to spy on his doppelganger and he'd barely paid her more than a cursory glance. Caroline was a bothersome distraction. And she smelled like vanilla sunshine.
"Um, Mr. Saltzman, do you have a second," she asked, pursing her lips into a tiny pout as she explained, "I need your advice on the best reference material I should use for my research paper."
Her lips were quite pink. He blinked, casting about in his mind for a plausible reason to explain why he didn't know the topic of Caroline's assignment. "Yes, well, research is key of course, and the selection of the best resources is an important decision..."
Rolling her eyes, she helpful told him, "It's on legislation that sparked the resurgence of the women's liberation movement, remember?" She'd angled her body slightly, her simple sundress sliding down just enough to allow him a peek at her creamy flesh.
It had to be an accident. Caroline would never flirt with this bumbling dullard with the bizarre Elvis pompadour. He tapped the corner of the desk, feeling an unfamiliar pang as she regarded him expectantly. Was he nervous? Quick, say something intelligent. "Well, there's no shortage of women's rights activists that you can consult. I'd recommend looking into prolific writers of the time such as Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem."
Nodding in approval, her tone carried a note of surprise as she commented, "Wow, I had no idea you knew so much about the feminist movement." Wincing slightly, she hurriedly added, "I mean, not to be rude or anything, but it's like I'm seeing this whole other side to you." Blue eyes twinkling, she lightly ran her finger along the scratched surface of his desk, almost grazing his hand. Her fingers twitched as though she was considering touching him. She coquettishly batted her eyelashes as she said, "I bet you've even read The Feminine Mystique. Maybe you'd like to tell me about it sometime? It can be our sexy summer secret."
Bloody fucking hell. Already he'd reached the limits of his scant knowledge of the '60s. He recalled how the hippies tasted delicious because the drug use was more casual and didn't taint the system as much, whereas the '70s saw more habitual usage, which made the humans taste decidedly astringent and chalky. Probably best to keep that tidbit to himself.
Klaus observed her quietly, absolutely reeling from her behavior. It was abundantly clear now — Caroline was flirting with Alaric. He couldn't decide whether to be repulsed or impressed. The idea that Alaric may have been shagging this ethereal beauty the entire time was baffling, to say the least. After all, Alaric was a middle-aged alcoholic who dressed like the vagrant the other vagrants banished from the underpass.
He shifted awkwardly in his chair, thoughts racing as he tried to compose a noncommittal response to keep up the pretense that he was Alaric. Especially considering he fully intended to chat up Caroline once he was in his far superior form. She clearly had a penchant for older men...
At his prolonged silence, Caroline threw back her head, blonde curls dancing about her shoulders as she addressed him in her normal voice. "On second thought, maybe you could help me study for my English Lit exam instead? Weren't you around during the English Renaissance...Klaus?"
As she strutted determinedly out of his classroom, Klaus couldn't decide whether this unexpected wrinkle improved his chances with Caroline.
The Plus One
Author's note: This was written for Klarosummer Bingo. A political scandal and a hastily cancelled wedding — this summer intern had been very busy.
Warning: Angst. Angst. Angst.
Prompt: Summer intern
The satin-finished wedding invitations were stamped with rose gold, beautifully highlighting the hummingbird that had been a symbol of their relationship. The fire consumed them in record time, but Caroline assumed that the bottle of Italian brandy she'd hurled into the stone pit had helped. Under normal circumstances, watching hundreds of dollars' worth of painstakingly designed work go up in flames would've made the sensible woman scream her lungs out. But she was done screaming. Besides, she left any pretense of "normal" behind her last week when the summer intern announced she was pregnant.
Caroline hadn't paid much attention to the fresh-faced college sophomore, but Hayley had made her presence known as soon as she began interning that summer for Elijah's reelection campaign. At first, she'd inexplicably set her sights on the happily married senator, whose wife was not only extraordinarily beautiful, but also a vengeful force of nature. Katherine knew how to cut a bitch to ribbons despite her fancy East Coast finishing school upbringing, and the campaign staff often would flee in terror the moment she walked into the room.
When Hayley had shifted her focus to Klaus, he hadn't seemed to notice at first. So steeped in Elijah's mercurial policy changes and position statements, he easily dismissed the summer intern's pouty flirtations as enthusiasm for her work. It was a laughable statement considering Hayley's 'work' seemed to consist of moving the same outdated campaign banners from one low shelf to another, ensuring her stupid wolf tattoo was on display as often as possible.
Caroline had been irritated by Hayley's cutting remarks about how she was a 'guy's girl' and that men always preferred that to a 'girly girl'. The comments obviously were designed to provoke her, and Caroline could admit that she'd spent far too much time debating the best way to respond to such insulting and outdated notions. Finally, she'd realized much of her frustration stemmed from misplaced jealousy, and was a waste of time. She'd left behind that insecure girl she'd been long ago. Her faith in Klaus was unshakable.
The jingle of the antique copper bell at the patio door startled Caroline, and she warily turned around, already smelling the bite of Klaus' cologne. She used to love placing sweet kisses along his neck, savoring the cedar and spice scent. "You have no reason to be here," she warned him in a clipped tone, "Katherine's assistant already picked up your stuff."
"Yes, Stefan made sure to convey my sister-in-law's displeasure by emptying the boxes along the highway."
It was the hint of a smirk that made her explode. "Do you think this is funny?!" She slammed down the empty stationary box embossed with the wedding date in gold filigree. The wedding that had been cancelled quietly. "You betrayed me! You swore there was nothing going on with Hayley, but now you tell me she's having your baby!" She shook her head, not bothering to disguise her bitterness. "At least I found out who you are before I ruined my life."
Klaus reared back as though she'd struck him. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You still know me. I love you and we can still—"
"We can still what? Get married? I could never be with someone who respects me so little!"
Jaw clenched, Klaus pleaded, "Please, sweetheart, don't do this to us. In this matter, I had no choice. Family above all."
What the hell was she supposed to do with that? Caroline scoffed, fists clenched as she rose to her feet. "You broke us and your excuse is to vomit up the Mikaelson family motto?! Seriously?!" Pointing toward the door, she commanded, "Get the fuck out."
As he bowed his curly head and sorrowfully trudged away, she added venomously, "It's Elijah I really feel for — it's unbelievably selfish to put his senate campaign at risk like this. But he's a good man and hopefully his constituents will remember that."
"Of course. Elijah — ever the noble brother," Klaus muttered derisively as he all but fled from her sight.
The heavy oak door slammed open, rattling the display case holding Elijah's prized campaign buttons from the infamous former president St. John's administration. Klaus furiously stormed into Elijah's office, enraged to see his brother continued to calmly type on his laptop.
"Is it done then," the senator asked loftily, barely flicking his gaze over the top of his screen.
A curious mix of outrage and shame mingled on Klaus' face as he gnashed his teeth. "Yes. Caroline believes the child is mine. Based on your wife's petty actions, it appears that she believes it as well." He acidly added, "Congratulations, brother — the woman I love will never forgive me, but your political career is saved."
Elijah's stone-face visage didn't mask the nervous twitch of his jaw as he wordlessly nodded.
Unable to bear standing in the same room with the brother he once idolized, Klaus paused at the threshold to bitterly say, "Family above all."