A/N Hi readers! I know I haven't been as active lately. I'm sorry! There's a space near me where kinky folk who have been vaccinated can go and hang out, so my social life is back in full swing. I've even been doing this terrifying thing called dating. This is based on what I am sad to say is a true story from my recent adventures. Unfortunately, I do not have a hot bartender friend waiting in the wings to ask me out, but I'm hopeful I'll eventually do better than Caroline did with Tyler. Let me know what you think!

Let's Ruin the Friendship

"He offered you what?"

Caroline could remember it like it was yesterday… probably because it was. For a woman in her late 20s, her luck with men was tragic bordering on pathetic with a side of yuck. Tyler Lockwood was supposed to be the exception to that sad reality. Not only was he far from Prince Charming, but he would go down in the story of her life as one of the more memorable narcissists. Of course, in a few years, he'd be relegated from Tyler to, "That guy who thought I was fat." He wasn't important enough to remember as a name.

"Workout equipment." Caroline nodded her head as Klaus stared at her from behind the bar slack jawed. They'd met in college and became fast friends. A decade later, her Italian restaurant was across the courtyard from the bar he owned. It had a comfortable feel to it and the atmosphere always set her at ease. Her patrons often waited for their table at his place and he sent the drunker of his customers to hers to get something to eat before returning their keys. Their friendship was good for business. "He thought I might like to start using it if I'm unhappy with how I look. Sit ups are an easy exercise, apparently."

"This from a man who wears mesh shirts." Klaus shook his head as he imagined Tyler choking on polyester. "And you aren't unhappy with how you look." Hand pausing as he wiped out a glass, he added with a frown, "Are you?"

"No!" Realizing her voice was nearing a shriek, she inhaled deeply to calm herself. "And it's not that he doesn't like my body. I could give a fuck about that. It's the way he said it, like it was something I wanted to do. It was so manipulative. He sounded just like…" Looking away, her voice trailed off as she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She was sitting on a stool across from him at the outdoor bar. It was shaded from the southern sun by an awning, but the air was still sticky with humidity and it was always just a bit too hot, but Klaus liked the outdoors and always chose it over the indoor bar.

"Damon?" he offered timidly, immediately regretting it at the way her face fell. She looked like she might be sick.

"You mean he-who-doesn't-deserve-a-name?" Caroline corrected him with disdain. "Yeah, that manipulative asshat. He was always trying to get me to do things by making it seem like it was my idea, but it never was. And the sad thing is that I know that trick. Hell, I invented that trick. But with asshat, I fell for it anyway. Not again. Never again," she added passionately, slamming her fist down on the cherrywood bar, nostrils flaring. "If I start working out, it'll be because I want to for my own reasons, not because someone else wants to change me."

"I don't think you need to change," the bartender commented, a softness to his tone that he reserved just for her.

"You're my friend. You have to say that."

Klaus ignored the way his gut clenched at the dismissive tone in her voice when she referred to him as just a friend. He hated seeing her hurt, but couldn't deny that he was secretly pleased it hadn't worked out with Tyler. He wasn't worthy of a woman like Caroline. No one was. "And what did you have to say? Did you tell him what you thought of his suggestion?"

The entrepreneur looked at him like he was deeply stupid. "Have you ever known me to keep my feelings to myself?" His answer was a smile that cut dimples into his cheeks. She had a fiery temper, and while she'd learned to express herself calmly, she still delivered one hell of a tongue lashing. "Of course I did… via text after I had time to collect my thoughts." He bit back a chuckle; she ignored it as she pulled out her phone and read out loud, "The way you brought up weight loss last night really did not feel good. If you don't like the way I look, I'm strong enough to hear it and I'll appreciate that at least you were honest. If you have concerns about my health and want to talk about it, lead with, 'I have concerns about your health and want to talk about it.' But don't try and manipulate me into making changes you think I should, and don't think I won't know exactly what you're doing. My ego is not so fragile that I can't handle talking about difficult subjects. Friendships are built on trust. If you want to be one of mine, trust that you can be direct with me."

"You sent that?" Klaus asked with raised brows, slightly impressed. She'd come a long way from the girl who cried herself to sleep on his shoulder after breaking it off with Damon after he tried to tell her she wanted to do a gang bang. Damon was lucky to be alive after Klaus was through with him. With a proud smile, she nodded confidently at him. "Very eloquent. Did he respond?"

Caroline's smile faded as she rolled her eyes. "He denied being manipulative and said he offered me the equipment because he thought I'd like it. And then, he went on to say sit ups are an easy exercise. I asked him why he thought I was unhappy with how I look and he dodged the question, talking about how we workout to fortify our bodies or some shit. So, either he was lying, knew he was being manipulative but thought I was dumb enough to buy it, or he's too blind to see that he's basically a jackass. Either way, I'm not dealing with it. Let him go pick someone up at the gym and leave me alone with my sugar."

"Good for you," Klaus praised, pride in his voice. "But did you really think he was just going to admit he was being manipulative?"

"Yes," she replied, although it sounded lame even to her. "I wanted him to say he was sorry and promise never to do it again."

"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart," he continued in a bemused tone, lip curling up in a smirk, "but apologizing for poorly attempted manipulation and a verbal guarantee to refrain in the future hardly qualify as candidates for the badge of trust. Behavior repeats. If he did it once, he'd do it again. You did the right thing calling it off." As he eyed her speculatively, he noted a faint blush in her cheeks. "You did call it off, didn't you?"

"Well..." Smiling sweetly, she let her voice trail off as she batted her eyelashes at him innocently.

"Caroline…"

The blonde looked across the bar guiltily. "Well, I didn't exactly tell him I didn't want to see him again. That would imply he asked, and I think I made it clear he should not do that." Klaus shot her a skeptical look that told her he clearly wasn't buying it. "Don't look at me like that. I already gathered my thoughts and expressed them maturely once. I don't like adulting unless I have to. If he texts, I'll deal with it then… after I consult with five different people about how best to handle it."

Shaking his head, Klaus tsked in disapproval. "He's a pretentious buffoon with the clothing taste of a bag of dirty laundry. He deserves to know the lack of another date isn't due to him not asking but because he's a narcissistic ass with the manners of an untrained sea otter. He should know it isn't his choice; it's yours."

"I know," Caroline replied in a whine. "It's just… This so totally, seriously sucks! Why did he have to go and ruin it in the last two minutes? We had such a great time before that, and there were so many things to like. And I wasn't even thinking we could, like, date date, but he could have been a friend. He checked too many of the 'no' boxes for a relationship."

"Ah, yes, Caroline Forbes and her checklists," Klaus teased, enjoying the way she flushed. "You do realize no one is ever going to live up to your ridiculous expectations, right?"

"My checklist is not ridiculous," she shot back defensively. "It's… ambitious."

"It's designed to keep people away so you never risk actually letting anyone in," the bartender pointed out smartly, switching to another wine glass. "At some point, you're going to have to learn to compromise."

"Hey, I know how to compromise." Klaus snorted; no, she didn't. "But I can't deal with indirect. I'd say yes to a lot of things, but I'm way too old to be playing mind games. I can't compromise on manipulation."

"No, nor should you. That'd be a dealbreaker for anyone." He watched her carefully and considered suggesting areas where she might bend a little, but at her morose expression, he held his tongue. Instead, he picked up a bottle of water and sipped slowly.

"At least it wasn't that I suck at blowjobs."

Klaus choked on his water.

"You okay?" the blonde asked, eyeing him with concern as his face turned red, stubble a few days overgrown in a way that was just unfairly attractive for a best friend.

"Yes, yes, fine," the bartender replied as he coughed a few times, thumping his chest. "Just something caught in my throat. You were saying?"

"Sorry, I don't mean to get graphic on you, but the last guy I went down on was Damon, and that was four years ago." She cringed at the thought, tucking a stray tendril behind her ear. "It's not like I think I'm some sex goddess, but I'm glad it wasn't that."

"I'm sure your skills in the bedroom are more than proficient." Klaus eyed her up and down like he wanted to find out for himself before a smirk took over his lips. "However, should you feel the need to improve upon your performance, I'd be willing to offer myself up as a test subject. Practice makes perfect, you know."

Caroline glared at him, but there was no malice as she shook her head. "You're going to hell."

"I hear the devil wears mesh."

The blonde chuckled for a brief moment before her face once again turned sad. Looking down at the dessert she'd swiped from work before heading over to bemoan another failed relationship, she humphed. "So, I'm a girl who values a good cannoli. There is nothing wrong with that." She dipped the tip of her finger into the decadent cream at the end of her pastry and defiantly licked it off her finger, missing the way Klaus' eyes darkened at the way she wet her lips to chase the last bit of sugar. "And so what if I hate sit ups? That is between me and my abdomen. And my abdomen thinks I'm just fine."

"Actually, your abdomen and I had a little chat earlier. It thinks you need to slow down with the Italian pastries." Caroline's eyes widened momentarily in shock before she saw the mocking curl of his upper lip. "It's worried you might go up a pant size. We're both very concerned."

The blonde grabbed the bar towel from his shoulder and smacked his chest with it, biting back a grin. "Well, both of you can just shut up because I'm perfect, thanks."

"I've often thought so."

Caroline's smile faded at the soft way he was looking at her, like she was the center of the universe and he was simply rotating in her orbit. "Klaus, don't start."

"Why?" he bit back quickly, his eyes pleading with her despite the forced confidence in his tone. "I'm handsome. I'm single. I'm financially stable. I'm funny."

"Funny looking, maybe."

Klaus ignored her as he continued like she hadn't interrupted, "We have similar hobbies and taste in movies and music. I'm smart."

"And with intelligence comes humility, I see."

"Intelligent enough to ask you out. I'm a catch. You could do worse." After a moment, he grimaced. "You have done worse."

The manager rolled her eyes. "I know, but-"

"If you know, then why won't you go out with me?" he pleaded emphatically, shrugging his shoulders. "What have you got to lose?"

"A really good friendship, for one," she explained for the tenth time. At least once a year, he brought up the subject of them becoming more than friends. And at least once a year, she turned him down. "You're one of my closest friends, probably my best friend. I don't want to ruin the friendship by dating. I am terrible at relationships."

"No, you've had relationships with terrible people," he corrected her, noting the way her glass was empty. He picked it up and began refilling it with Sprite before adding grenadine and three cherries. "There's a difference. It's your taste that's questionable, not your intentions."

"My taste is not that bad," Caroline countered, mentally reviewing a list of horrible life choices.

"The man owned a mesh shirt, love."

"Not everyone has your aversion to polyester!" the blonde spat back, mentally cringing at the mental image of Tyler in skin-tight fabric. "And that mesh really set off his eyes." Klaus raised a brow; she huffed and looked away. Narrowing her eyes, she picked up her fresh drink and sucked soda up through the bright red straw. "And, like yours is so much better. Is Camel still phone stalking you with fake numbers?" she teased with a wicked smirk that made his face fall.

"Her name was Camille," Klaus reminded her defensively, shoulders shivering like he'd just remembered something particularly unpleasant. "And I have no idea. I'm paying for the premium service to block VoIP calls on my phone. If she is calling, it's going to spam."

"See?" the blonde pointed out triumphantly. "Your taste is so bad that it's costing you money."

"All the more reason for you to go out with me," the bartender replied without missing a beat, dimples peeking out as he grinned at her. "As my best friend, don't you want to save me from myself."

Caroline laughed out loud at that; it was a bright sound that warmed Klaus from the inside out. "Oh, so you're telling me what I want now?"

"It's what all the cool men are doing these days." He shared a brief chuckle with her before his face turned serious. "Give me one date. That's all I ask."

"Klaus, no!" she chided lamely, swirling her drink with the straw as she felt her defenses start to crumble. He made a good argument, and he was definitely a catch. She really didn't know why she kept refusing him year after year. It got harder every time. "I swore after Stefan that I'd never date anyone from work ever again. Remember how that turned out?"

"I work here." He pointed at the ground for a moment before pointing at her restaurant across the courtyard. "You work there. We share a plaza; that's all. And don't pretend you didn't enjoy it immensely when you got to fire him."

Caroline bit the inside of her cheek at the memory of her ex's indignation when she'd finally managed to convince HR that he was completely incompetent. "Yeah, but it took six weeks to justify it to management, and I still had to see him five days a week in the meantime."

"An issue you no longer face since you own the restaurant," he pointed out. "You have no one to answer to now. We aren't in college anymore, sweetheart."

"College!" The blonde poked him in the chest like she'd just thought about their university days for the first time. "Exactly. We have known each other since I was the nerdy freshman whose date ditched her at the frat party when I wouldn't put out and you were the cool senior who drove me home without even trying to hook up."

"I was 22 and a damn fool." The bartender shook his head.

"You were a friend." Reaching over the bar, she clasped his hand in hers. "And you still are. We've known each other for ten years. Dating would be too weird."

"The best relationships are based on good friendships," he argued, squeezing her hand. "Go out with me one time. Should you find the shift in dynamic too bizarre, I'll never ask again." The minute twitch of her upper lip told him he was getting to her. "Come on. Say yes. You know you want to." He flashed her his most charming dimples, eyes twinkling. "One date?"

Caroline pursed her lips together as she thought about it. He was so earnest; it was hard to resist. She couldn't even remember the last time a man had really pursued her. It felt nice to be so wanted. "Fuck it. Let's ruin the friendship," she finally conceded, pulling back her hand and holding up a single finger. "But to be clear, I am agreeing to one date. And if it doesn't go well, we're going to pretend it never happened and never discuss it again."

"Deal." Klaus' face lit up like he'd just won the lottery. "I'll pick you up at eight."

A/N Yes, the man offered me workout equipment and his go-to was, "If you're unhappy with how you look." That really did happen. And the text Caroline sent Tyler is verbatim what I sent to him the next day. Fortunately, it made for some excellent writing material because what else is a girl supposed to do with her feelings but sublimate them with Klaroline? Let me know what you think! (No concrit, please.)