A/N

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New Orleans.

Caroline had just landed after nearly 4 exhausting hours. True to her famous luck, a bout of turbulence had hit the plane, awakening fear and terror among her fellow passengers. How ironic it would have been for her plane to go down the very first time she actually left Mystic Falls or her father's town. Though lost on other people on the flight, the irony amused the blonde who looked as if she'd lost all common sense.

Boy, Stefan Salvatore had really messed up the once beautifully poised Caroline Forbes. Never before had anyone hurt her this deeply. He'd taken away all of her hopes for the future- a family- that's what she'd been dreaming of. A family unlike the dysfunctional one she'd grew up in. Buy maybe it had been for the best. Clearly, she couldn't even manage her life, no way was she fit for that dream. The hospital, lost nights in operation rooms- that was the only place where she felt in control now. So she would go back to that, but not before making Stefan feel an ounce of what she'd experienced.

That precise purpose had guided her here, possessing a name: Klaus Mikaelson. She'd only met him once before, when he'd been passing through her hometown, visiting Stefan. A brief introduction was exchanged between them and Klaus had unexpectedly left, never to return again before further interaction was possible. Curiosity had prompted her to ask Stefan about it, but he'd waved her off, mumbling a few incoherent words and the subject hadn't garnered enough of her interest for her to insist with her fiancée. Elena had shed some more light on the subject using the limited information an evasive Damon had offered.

Apparently, Stefan and Klaus had been best friends years ago when the Salvatore brothers didn't speak with each other. For an unknown reason, they'd had a fallen out and hadn't spoken until Klaus had mysteriously arrived in Mystic Falls. The only other knowledge Elena possessed was that Damon had warned that Klaus was dangerous and to stay away from him.

Now, she had come to find this presumably threatening man and ask him to accompany her to Stefan's wedding. And she had no idea where to start. New Orleans was a big city and finding a certain person without any specific directions was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

First things first though. She was tired, starving and yearning for a hot bath and lunch. Even so, the beauty of the city managed to amaze her. The rumble of people filling out the streets, marching bands, parades at every corner and artists capturing the unique exquisiteness around them. Her hotel, located in the center of the French Quarter, appeared taken out of an alluring travel magazine with its 19th century architecture, interior patio with marble fountains and rows of delicate white lilies and fierce red peonies. Like a fairytale come true.

So this is what the world has to offer, she thought, ordering some lasagna from room service.

So desperate and out of ideas on how to find Klaus was she, that she resorted to asking the bell boy if he knew anyone with that name. Neither did him, nor was any Klaus Mikaelson listed so the hope of finding a phone number vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Merely encountering him seemed hopeless, let alone convincing the big, bad wolf to pretend to be her lover in a believable way.

Forsaking her nap and replacing the bath with a quick shower, Caroline got to work. With two weeks to go, the seconds were precious. That was precisely why not a single shop or restaurant within 15 blocks escaped her relentless enquiries, but it proved to no avail. Nobody had heard of him.

Desolation had replaced her previous excitement at visiting a new, big city. Reality had hit her with full force: unless the fates conspired in her favor, there was no way she would catch sight of him. For God's sake, he might not even live here anymore. After all, it had been over a year since he'd left from Mystic Falls to New Orleans.

What had begun as a dull throbbing behind her eyes had now progressed to a merciless ponding in her temples. Alcohol. She needed alcohol to soothe her ailing head and nerves brought on by the daunting task ahead of her.

Rousseau's.

A small, wooden sign was fluttering in the night wind advertising a much needed bar. At least her wish to drown her sorrows in booze was made true by whatever deity usually laughed at her. Without another thought, she stepped into the establishment; surprise growing at how many people could fit into such a tiny space and headed straight for the bar. A pretty, brunette lifted her big, maroon eyes from the cocktail she was preparing.

"Hey," she smiled brightly. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Taking a seat at one of the uncomfortable, leather stools, she ordered some bourbon. Stefan's betrayal had really done a number on her considering her drink of choice was the same as Damon's. How low the mighty had fallen. "Are you alright?" the polite bartender questioned while setting down a glass filled with amber liquid.

"Not really," she downed the entire content in once gulp, welcoming the burn and signaling for another.

"I haven't seen you around here. I'm Melanie," the other woman refilled her tumbler.

Were she honest, the blonde wasn't in the mood for small talk at the moment, with images of Stefan in bed with Valerie, giggling at the prospect of their future wedding piercing like a knife through her heart, but Melanie was too nice and sweet to simply ignore. "Caroline. I just came into town." On a whim, Caroline continued. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. Would you happen to know a Klaus Mikaelson?"

Once the question was out, she felt stupid for continuing with this madness even after promising herself that she would unwind tonight. Of course, Melanie hadn't heard of him. Nobody appeared to.

"Yes, actually I do."

Caroline nearly spat out her drink. "You do?"

The bartender laughed at Caroline's widened eyes and shocked expression. "Yeah, he's sort of a regular around here," brown orbs scanned the room, focusing on a table at the back, facing the exit. "He's right over there."

Sure enough, the man Melanie was pointing at resembled the person she'd met months ago. Finally, her guardian angel had decided to pull some strings and do his freaking job. For once in her life, she was reaping the sows of luck. Biting her lip, she studied Klaus. He seemed different. Somehow even more reserved than before. Tense, a hardness that hadn't been quite there before. Sure, he had been clearly on edge back then, like he'd been through a lot and that still haunted him, but now, he looked dark, tormented, dangerous. Hesitation was creeping in.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn't a man to be trifled with. Damon's warning was starting to make a whole lot of sense. Perhaps she should just head back home and invent an excuse for not being able to attend the wedding. Everyone would look between the lines and understand the real reason, but who could judge her?

No, unacceptable –losing before the final gong was unacceptable. She would not give up without a fight. It just wasn't in her nature. Losing a battle before you even began was a sign of weakness, lack of belief in your own skin and Caroline was neither weak nor insecure. Two weeks, she would try for two weeks and then head to the ceremony with or without Klaus. All in all, she wasn't the one who should be ashamed when they'd been the one to betray her, right?

Gulping the newly poured drink, Caroline took a deep breath and stood up. "Where are you going?" Melanie screamed after her to cover the music.

"To do probably the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life," squaring her shoulders. "Wish me luck."

The music drowned out Melanie's good luck, but even if the room had been enveloped in silence, Caroline still wouldn't have heard her. She was concentrating on how to approach a man that seemed entirely unapproachable. Hell, she could take off all her clothes and Klaus would surely not even notice, that engrossed was he in the depths of his own mind.

Choosing just to be direct and bite the bullet, Caroline strutted all the way to his table, ignoring the cat-calls she left in her wake. Rude pricks who were unworthy of her attention. "Is this seat taken?" fake confidence exuded from every pore in her body and she prayed her uneasiness wouldn't show on the outside.

Slowly and deliberately, Klaus lifted his eyes from the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table. His alcohol resistance must be way better than hers because he seemed alert, studying her from head to toe, his muscles taut not once showing the effects of heavy drinking.

"Yes," he responded dry. Briefly, recognition showed in his sapphire eyes, but he didn't acknowledge her. With that one word he'd effectively cut her off, but bowing in defeat wasn't done within minutes of stepping out into the ring. Especially not by Caroline Forbes.

"That's strange because no one has sat in it ever since I've stepped foot in this place."

Quirking an eyebrow at her defiance to obey his unspoken order to sod off, Klaus Mikaelson smirked. "I take it you've been watching me," he phrased the words as a question, his heavily accented voice shaking her to the core. It possessed an undertone that sent shivers down her back. "Why?"

"I…" the blunt query rendered her momentarily speechless. Sure, she'd wanted to tell him, but now, face to face with him, she was worried about his reaction. In spite of that, she hadn't flown hundreds of miles to cower away from a challenge. "I had a favor to ask you," the mask of steel indifference hiding her feelings rather unsuccessfully.

"Did you now?"

That made it obvious: he was mocking her unwillingly projected vulnerability.

"Yes, actually I do, Klaus," she summoned the last reserves of strength her body possessed. "We've met before, in Mystic Falls, when you visited Stefan," Caroline didn't miss the way his jaw tightened or how he flinched slightly upon the mentioning of Stefan's name. Apparently, her lying, petty excuse of an ex-fiancée was a crack in Klaus's armor. It was duly noted in case she'd need to use it in the future.

"I'm aware. You were his girlfriend, Candy, or something like that."

It took all of her self-restraint to conceal her clenched fist and control the impulse to punch him in the face for associating her with a hooker's name. Tired, that's what she was: tired of men jeering at her. "It's Caroline Forbes, actually," she got out through gritted teeth. "Please," she bit her tongue and stomped all over her dignity by pleading with this man for anything. "Just hear me out."

"Sorry, like I said, not interested," and he waved her off like she was his servant. How dare he? If she wasn't in need of his assistance, this arrogant bastard would get a piece of her mind. Sadly, she had to continue to play nice, for now.

"It could help you get back at Stefan, in a way, for whatever he did to upset you so greatly." There it went- her best card was on the table. Playing on his hatred for Stefan was the only way he might consider helping her. After all, love and hate ruled over the world, two World Wars having had at their roots one of the two emotions.

Bingo! Her inner exclaimed when he leaned back in his chair, a devilish glint in his eyes. "I'm listening."

So she told him part of her story. Her engagement. Him cheating. The wedding invitation. Klaus listened intently and even showcased some emotion: the corners of his eyes wrinkled at the mention of Valerie and that oh, so beautiful scene in her apartment. Momentarily it made her feel like she was going in the right direction, but that was rapidly stomped on by his shift to indifference. "Sorry to interrupt your tragic love story, but what exactly do you expect me to do, Juliet? Go and beat on your Romeo until he agrees to take you back?"

He was laughing at her. One of the saddest moments of her life and all Klaus Mikaelson could do were call her names and make fun of her. What an awful human being! On the other hand, he was the only man for the job. She had to say it now, or this meeting would go further down the rabbit hole.

"Pretend to be my boyfriend." Her attempt to cut to the chase was cringe worthy, dumb and childish even to her own ears. Like a scorned child who wanted to spite her parents. Jesus, this conversation was getting worse with every second.

"Excuse me?" he slightly raised his voice. "Why in the world would I want to do that?"

She had to salvage it while that was still an option. Not while, if was a better choice for a word in the context of Klaus narrowing his grey eyes at her. His patience was clearly reaching its limit. "It would spite Stefan immensely. Think about it, you are the one person in the world which I've seen him openly dislike- he's too much of a do-gooder otherwise. Were I to turn at his wedding with you of all people as my date, he would most likely have a heart attack. Ruined, his wedding would be ruined." And I wouldn't appear like a pathetic girl who is still holding on to her unrequited love, however true that might be, she bit her tongue to stop from adding.

This had to convince him. No way was this man able to resist taking revenge on Stefan.

"No." Or apparently he was.

One syllable and Caroline's face fell, hope plummeting and cracking into a thousand shards. Even the appeal of fracturing Stefan's dreams hadn't been enough to pull him away from whatever was troubling him. "Why not?" disbelief laced her voice.

"I have no interest whatsoever to see the youngest Salvatore brother," resentment obvious as he spat out the last three words. "My business with him is done, Caroline. Just like yours should be, if you were smart enough to realize it."

Was that advice he was offering her? Or was he insulting her in a very veiled manner? If it was the former, he had a very patronizing way to do it. For once though, his tone was serious, all mockery set aside.

"Please," desperation seeped into her voice and it made her like she was begging. Which, honestly speaking, she kind of was. "Klaus, please reconsider this."

"No. That's my final word. You should go. Leave this town and never look for me again."

Clear authority radiated off him and left no room for further discussion although she yearned to say something more. "I'll go," she agreed. "But I'm staying in town for a few days at The Province Plaza. Find me, if you change your mind."

Caroline knew the odds of that happening were less than zero, but she had to let it out. A miracle might still happen. However, Klaus didn't dignify it with an answer, merely turned his attention back to the expensive whiskey and gulped down half a glass. She had been dismissed, that much was abundantly clear. Just as clear as the fact that Klaus Mikaelson had to polish his social skills and that she would need to come to grips with the idea of facing Stefan, his future wife and friends all alone. How humiliating and excruciatingly painful that would be. Moreover, her thirst to get back at Stefan, even if it was only by fake-dating his enemy, would not be quenched.

In dire need of something to make her forget, the blonde returned to the bar, where Melanie was expecting her.

"How did it go?"

Her chipper and innocent voice annoyed Caroline to no ends, but even she had to admit that none of her anger was due to Melanie and taking it out on her would be a petty thing to do.

"Horribly bad."

At that, Melanie offered the woman a glass filled to the brim with bourbon. "Sorry about that," she planted the entire bottle in front of Caroline. "It's on the house," was all she supplied before tending to another customer. Complying, Caroline got to work, one glass at a time, longing to consign to oblivion Stefan's unfaithfulness and Klaus's ridicule.

The pleasant buzz brought on by the strong spirit was beginning to take her mind off every single wounding thing, so she kept at it, her goal being blissful ignorance. And she was close to achieving it when Melanie took off the quarter-full container from the counter. "That's it! I'm cutting you off."

Outrage filled every bone in her body at Melanie's condescending tone. She had just met the woman. What gave her the right to talk to her like that? "No, you're not," she went to reach for the bottle under the bar.

"Caroline," Melanie sighed. "It's very late. Soon we'll be closing the bar and you should try to sober up before leaving the streets at night, in an unknown city," a glass of water was positioned in front of her.

Reluctantly, the blonde admitted the validity of her new friend's arguments, sipped some of the cold liquid and laid her head on the cold wood. She might be a little tipsy, but not as drunk as Melanie made her out to be. Now that she paid closer attention to her surroundings, she noted that the hum of the crowd had disappeared. Confused, she looked around and realized that only 5 other people had remained in the bar, and to her exasperation, Klaus was one of them. To add fuel to the fire, Melanie didn't look like she was cutting him off anytime.

Within 30 minutes everybody but her and Klaus had closed their tabs and went home. "Why haven't you cut him off yet?" she couldn't hold her curiosity anymore.

The black-haired woman hesitated. "I never do. He's always the last one to leave, always drinking more than one regular, healthy human should and remaining seemingly sober."

"That didn't answer my question, Melanie."

"I…" words were heavily weighed. "I respect him, I guess."

"Respect?" indignation and outrage overwhelmed Caroline Forbes. "What is there to respect in that vile, obnoxious excuse of a man?" The bartender's eyes grew the size of watermelons and the slightly drunk woman knew immediately why. Biting her lip, heat rising to her cheeks, she turned around and, sure enough, a tall silhouette towered over her, not sparing her a look.

"Here," he gave Melanie a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change."

Caroline felt like she should say something, maybe apologize for downright insulting him, but her tongue refused to listen to those commands. All chances of him helping her out were erased from Earth by this occurrence, but keeping her last shred of dignity was just as important to her in this particular hop in life.

"That was rough," Melanie declared after the chime of the door announced Klaus's departure. "I've never heard anyone speak like that to Klaus before. I guess they are all too afraid," she added as an afterthought. "I'm surprised he didn't say anything to that. His temper tends to be quite volatile, especially these days."

"Well, he was rough with me too, believe me, he gave me a taste of that acerbity" the blonde defended her actions even though she knew that she'd overstepped some boundaries with him. Sure, he'd been sarcastic and completely unsympathetic to her pain, but never had he been uncivil with her. Come to think of it, she'd been a real bitch, something which hadn't been in her character since high-school. "I just really needed his help," she tried to justify her behavior. "I can't face them alone, you know?" warmth was welling in her eyes and Melanie was staring at her helplessly, probably wondering what to do with the messed-up drunk girl in the barstool who looked ready to lose it.

Ransacking her pockets for a few crumpled bills, Caroline threw them on the counter. "I should just go," she excused herself. "I'm sorry for the way I acted today. That's not me, I swear," upon standing the alcohol climbed to her head and she had to grab hold of the chrome back of the stool to keep from falling down. "I'll be in town for two more weeks. Maybe I'll come back."

"Two weeks, you said?"

"Yes, why?"

A devilish grin brightened Melanie's face. Combined with the glint in her eyes, it was clear even to a drunk Caroline that this was the face of someone plotting something. "I've been meaning to take a vacation, but couldn't find anyone willing to cover for me. Would you do it?"

The question dumbfounded Caroline. Be a bartender? She had no experience whatsoever in that domain and however temporary the job was, she was clearly not prepared for it. Her incoming decline must have been written all over her face because Melanie reinforced her request with a pair of sad, huge, brown eyes that would make Bambi jealous.

"Please, Caroline. It's only a few days. All you would have to do is serve a few drinks."

She was right. How hard could that be? After all, she was a surgeon for Christ's sake. Another advantage was that it would take her mind off distressing matters without ruining her liver in the process. She could feel herself giving in. "Ok, I'll try, but I can't guarantee customer satisfaction." This was one of those drunken decision one regretted in the morning, she was all aware, but something inside of her screamed to take the job.

"That's great!" Melanie jumped over to hug her. "Thank you! Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver! But there's something you need to know first."

Oh, God, here came the fine print. The one piece of reality that sent her reeling back to Mystic Falls. Maybe other services were included in the job description. Caroline shuddered at the mere thought of that.

"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind because I'm not so sure I believe in that sort of thing, but the locals say that this position is cursed."

To her inebriated mind that sounded even more ridiculous than a sober Caroline would have looked at it. Either way, it was bullshit she didn't believe in. "That doesn't worry me in the slightest, Melanie, "she laughed out loud.

"Caroline, I know how silly this sounds, but it's my moral duty to tell you that my two predecessors have tragically passed away at extremely young ages. One was murdered," the bartender added gloomily and it appeared like she wanted to add something, but changed her mind at the last minute.

As a doctor in the E.R, she'd witnessed hundreds of children and teenagers dying from freak accidents and people who'd suffered unimaginable injuries had somehow pulled through. It led her to believe that we all had our own faith and we were forced to wear it. No job had the power to take lives.

"That doesn't worry me in the slightest. It was all probably a terrible coincidence. Go," she motioned to the door mimicking a bird flying. "Go to Haiti or the Caribbean or Europe and enjoy your vacation. Caroline Forbes will hold down this fort for you."

Unexpectedly, Melanie jumped up in her arms, her happiness so great Caroline could feel it transcend into her own body. "Oh my God, I can't believe it. You're amazing, "she shrieked in her eardrum. "I'll be forever grateful for this." A key was placed inside her palm. "We open at eleven in morning. Cocktail recipes are under the counter if you need them. Thank you once again, Caroline, from the bottom of my heart."

"Don't worry about it. Just promise me you'll have fun."

After that, Caroline waited for Melanie to finish closing up the place, while listening to a never-ending slew of gratitude words. By the time they bid each other farewell, Caroline had learned to appreciate the silence, but a small part of her rejoiced at a small gesture of hers making someone that happy.

"Who knows, maybe you'll even convince Klaus to help you," Melanie winked before finally going home. Reality washed over Caroline. Klaus was a regular at Rousseau's. Every day, they would come face to face and things would be significantly more awkward after her intoxicated rant.

Maybe the job really was cursed after all.

Lamentably for the blonde, Klaus's presence represented the least significant danger of New Orleans and Rousseau's for her safety. Darker individuals loomed close and one wrong move could send them after her. A raven flew right over her head, its croaking sound startling her. The poor bird headed straight into a nearby window, a loud crashing sound followed by a streak of blood trickling down the glass.

Had Caroline believed in omens that would have been a threatening one.

A harbinger of death.