Notes: The penultimate 'January' chapter! And we're finally getting somewhere. Thanks so much to everyone who's reading!

JANUARY – TUESDAY

CAROLINE:

Her computer dings, and Caroline glances up at the message bubble that's popped up, almost thankful for the interruption. Not that she'd been doing anything pressing. She'd had a meeting with a potentially big client this morning (and she'd totally nailed it, obviously) but without anything pressing to focus on her mind keeps wandering back to The Klaus Situation.

And the fact that she needs to do something about it.

But, as luck would have it, the message isn't going to help her think about things other than a certain dimpled distraction.

Megan Crewe (Assistant Planner):

Your nonboyfriend is incoming! Have I mentioned I hate winter? All the layers...

Caroline's just finished reading it, marveling at Megan's ability to stay subtle on office communiques (because writing out that winter clothes were a hindrance to her perving would be frowned upon, should anyone happen to intercept it) when two more follow in quick succession.

Megan Crewe (Assistant Planner):

You're totally fixing your hair right now, aren't you?

Megan Crewe (Assistant Planner):

Tell me again why YOU'RE NOT DATING THIS MAN?!

Caroline abruptly drops her hand, from where it had been tucking a stray piece of hair back into her half updo, glancing around her office.

Which is silly. Megan's nuts, but the fun, harmless kind. Not the secret surveillance kind. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe she should check the corners, just in case?

No. That was crazy. Caroline will just have to blame the paranoia on the sleepless night she'd just had. She'd spent it tossing and turning, obsessively considering the point Megan's last message had raised.

A knock at the door shakes her from that train of thought, and Caroline sits up straight, brushing a hand over her front (just in case a stray sesame seed from her everything bagel had gone astray, not because she was nervous) before calling, "Come in!"

Klaus opens the door, looking pink cheeked and windblown (and Caroline has no idea what Megan's talking about – because the cut of his charcoal pea coat totally worked for her). He smiles when he sees her, but hesitates in the entryway, "Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's fine," Caroline assures him. "Come in. I was just trying to decide if I wanted to go out for lunch or grab something from one of the vending machines downstairs. What brings you by?"

"That's good timing. Lunch is why I'm here. Rebekah sent me an email last night, informing me that you're obviously missing her terribly, and that it's my duty to sub in for her today for your usual lunch, so you don't waste away pining for her company. I expect she'd had a few too many cocktails."

"Did she now?" Caroline asks, suspicion gnawing at her brain. Kol had been on his best (for him) behavior last night, hadn't made even a hint an innuendo about her and Klaus. Caroline expected his restraint to last three days, tops, but the break had been nice, especially since she hadn't exactly needed the reminders.

She wouldn't put it past Kol to have nudge Rebekah into doing his bidding (until he felt like he was safe from Caroline's wrath) and dropping some hints of her own. And it was entirely possible that they'd plotted something together, putting aside their differences to shove Caroline into the direction they were rooting for.

Or maybe Caroline was just seeing conspiracies everywhere today.

"Great!" Caroline says, tidying up her desk quickly. She really hadn't wanted to forage for prepackaged snacks but it was cold outside, and she'd been hesitant to venture out. Klaus stopping by, offering her company, improved the idea's appeal immensely.

This will be the third meal she's shared with him in as many days, a fact Caroline files away, adding it to an ever growing pile, to contemplate later.

"Give me just a minute. Although, I have to say, I'm not sure how I feel about you showing up here to take me for a pity lunch because Bekah guilted you into it."

Klaus lets out an amused scoff, "While Rebekah's guilt trips are world class, second only to our mother's, you have to know I didn't take much convincing."

Caroline does know that. And she knows he doesn't mean to make her feel guilty, by saying it, but a little bit pools uncomfortably in her stomach anyway.

"Seeing you," Klaus continues, "without having to battle my brother or your friend, for your attention, is neither a chore nor a hardship."

It always takes her aback, when he says things like that. So simply, like he's not even trying to be sweet or complimentary (and, in all honesty, she can't imagine Klaus would take 'sweet' as a descriptor very kindly). And it's not one she'd apply often, but every once in a while, he manages to say something ridiculously perfect. And Caroline's left a warm and giddy mess, on the inside, with no idea how to reply.

So she doesn't.

Caroline ducks down to wiggle her boots back on (they were cute, but not exactly comfy, and since you couldn't see her feet, when she was sitting at her desk, what was the point in suffering pinched toes?).

Klaus' watching her, when she emerges, a faintly amused smirk on his lips. "Should I have taken my shoes off upon entering?" he wonders.

"I met with a new client this morning," she tells him defensively. "It's not my fault that heels are considered more professional then flats, okay? Not all of us are lucky enough to be able to work in our underwear, if we want to."

Klaus' smirk widens, "Are we chatting about my underwear today? How new and different. What would you like to know?"

Caroline feels a blush coming on, but she willfully ignores it, "No. No we are not."

"We can, if you'd like." Klaus' tone dips suggestively, his eyes blinking at her innocently. "Even the playing field, after Kol's little bout of oversharing. I don't mind."

Getting up, and turning from him, hoping her face isn't too pink, Caroline busies herself with collecting her coat and bag, looping both over her arm, "Not necessary. I got all the pertinent info when Kol did his panty raid last month, remember? What was it… Oh, right. Paul Smith, dark colors."

"I'm surprised you remember that," Klaus replies, when she turns back around. He's standing, hands shoved in his pockets. He doesn't look surprised. Caroline would call the expression on his face smug, maybe even pleased. "I can't help but wonder why it stuck in your brain."

She puts her scarf on with way more concentration then the act warrants, not about to confess that she remembers the specifics because they've enriched the fantasies she has about Klaus (near nightly, at this point) greatly. She's watched him peel them off his hips, stroked along the waistband with fingertips and her tongue, inside her mind, an embarrassing number of times.

She avoids his eyes carefully. It's irrational, but she feels like he'll know, if she looks at him right now.

And what would happen after, if he did in fact possess freaky mind reading abilities, is so not a casual Tuesday lunch conversation. That's a conversation that requires wine. Maybe even vodka.

And it's looming. Caroline can feel it.

"Beats me," Caroline says breezily, walking to the door. "Besides, even if Kol hadn't advertised your preferences I totally would have been able to guess. Maybe not the specific brand, but the rest of it."

Klaus grins, "Do tell, love. What have you gleaned from me that would allow you to accurately peg my preferences in underwear? I'm most curious."

"First, you almost always wear jeans. Not the painted on kind, but snug enough to make me think that boxers would be out," Caroline leans against her door, ticking points off on her fingers. "Number two, you hardly wear colors, and when you do they're always dark. Makes me doubt that you'd pick neon or pastel to wear underneath. And lastly, your clothes are simple, but not cheap, you put more thought into them then most people would think. It stands to reason your underwear would be the same, right?"

Klaus looks thoughtful, and he's moved closer to her, closer than he usually does. He reaches out, slowly, giving her time to move away, but Caroline holds her ground. She reminds herself to breathe normally, when he gently pushes that same wayward curl she'd been struggling with earlier, behind her ear. "Someone's been paying attention," he murmurs, tracing a finger along the shell of her ear, watching her contemplatively, letting them slide down the skin along the side of her neck, before he lets his arm drop.

Caroline bites down on the inside of her lip, when he does it, forcing herself not to close her eyes and lean into the caress. They were in her office, with her very nosy co-workers just outside. Now was not the time to be exploring the way his touch made her feel.

"I think we both know I've been paying attention, Klaus," Caroline tells him quietly. She waits a beat, for him to digest the confession, for a tiny, pleased smile to begin to curl the corner of his mouth, before she continues, pushing away the intimacy of the moment.

Because the timing wasn't great, and she wanted to be sure, before she made the leap. It wouldn't be fair of her, after everything, to be wishy-washy about what she wanted. Because she was positive, that once Klaus was given the green light, he would happily make the most of it. And that resistance would be nearly impossible.

And she'd very nearly decided that she no longer had any reason to.

In the meantime, was it a crime to mess with him, just a little? Flirting wasn't exactly new, for them. And he was usually the one starting it. It was well within her rights to take the initiative.

Plus it was fun.

"And," she says, aiming for casualness, "it's not rocket science. Guy's don't have a fraction of the options women do. Sometimes a girl likes sheer and lacy, but sometimes she needs the cleavage that only a push up bra can give, you know?"

It's a tease. Meant to entice, and Caroline relishes the intrigued expression that crosses Klaus' face. She's completely certain that she's not alone in her less than pure thoughts, but she can't resist fanning the flames.

Because she knows herself, and she's going to think about this moment later. She's going to stare up at her ceiling, and think about Klaus. About his proximity, and how he smelled, what the stubble on his jaw would have felt like if he's leaned in, and followed his fingers on his skin with his lips.

Caroline refuses to be the only one not sleeping.