Queen of Hearts

Happy Birthday howeverlongs! I am sorry this is late, Paula. Hopefully you like it. Thank you so much for all of the pretty graphics that you give us!

The smoke in the bar was cloying. Caroline wrinkled her nose as she moved through the crowd, the happy tune played on the piano nearly overpowering the murmur of the crowd. For all that there were smiles, too many people kept glancing at the door for Caroline to be comfortable.

She could guess what was causing the disturbance tonight. Glancing cautiously through her lashes at the table in the back, she swiped her tongue across her lips as she gave herself a brief glance to admire the man who sat with such elegant casualness. Klaus Mikaelson.

Smart, terribly handsome with dimples she'd seen crease his cheeks just before he'd threatened someone's life, Klaus Mikaelson had the devil's own luck and his ruthlessness. Caroline had seen enemies dismiss him, partly due to his foreign accent and partly because of his looks, and she'd heard of how they'd been fished from the lake. But it wasn't fear that had her skirting the crowd to avoid him.

Klaus wasn't just ruthless when it came to business. Adjusting her tray, shirt swishing around her knees, she sighed mentally as Gloria caught her eye. She'd done a full circle, dropped of drinks and dodged the occasional hand, and Klaus had been waiting for almost ten minutes.

He wouldn't wait much longer.

Walking to the bar, she accepted the bottle and glasses, and braced herself mentally for the conversation that was coming. Tonight was her first night working since her birthday. Klaus had left her alone when she wasn't at the bar, but his expression when she'd scurried away from him with kiss wet lips and mussed hair, had promised that time was coming to an end.

She wouldn't be a coward and hide from him.

He glanced up as her heels hit the stairs, smile slow and wicked. She was relieved that he wasn't alone, but the pale face of Stefan Salvatore told her whatever their discussion, it wasn't going well. For him. She'd heard there had been a falling out, Rebekah Mikaelson seen in the company of a different dark haired guy.

"Bourbon?" She drawled as she set down the tumblers. It was an unnecessary question, as Klaus drank little else. In the years since she'd known him, she'd never seen him stray from his usual, although the quality of what they could offer varied.

"Caroline, sweetheart," Klaus murmured, the rough slid of his voice washing across her skin like a touch. He offered her the butt he held between his fingers. "How's the mood tonight?"

"Tense," she said lightly, accepting his offer, taking a slow drag. Her lipstick lingered as she handed it back. Klaus didn't seem to care, pressing it between his lips with dark eyes. "Should a girl be nervous?"

"You? No." Klaus said lightly after an exhale of smoke. He ground out the stub with such a smile. "Others perhaps aren't so lucky."

Caroline didn't look at Stefan. Nodding her head, she picked up her tray, and Klaus caught her wrist. Once, she'd have shaken off his touch with a flinch, but that had been years ago. Now her pulse picked up, goosebumps spreading across her skin as his thumb stroked softly.

"You owe me a conversation."

Eyes narrowed, she tugged lightly. Klaus released her, and only then did she glance at the accusing glare Stefan was watching her with. "You look like you've got business."

"So I do."

She walked away, and this time he didn't stop her.

Last night, there had been a raid. From the rumors she'd overheard, the coppers had hit Lockwood's outfit in an attempt to crack down on the distribution of alcohol. Several of those bulls were enjoying the rotgut at the bar even now.

Many were taking it as proof of Klaus Mikaelson's growing domination in Chicago. He seemed to always be two steps ahead of his enemies, but it wasn't his growing empire of weapons and alcohol that made him dangerous. That he managed to convey all on his own.

Slipping back to the counter, Caroline collected the next round of drinks. For all that tonight was fraught with a wire of tension, it was busy. She and the other skirts that Gloria employed were constantly moving. As the alcohol flowed so did the tips. And now that Klaus had made his little statement, fewer hands attempted to wonder.

Most nights, his little statements of claim pissed her off. For two years they'd gone back and forth, Klaus a stubborn presence in her life. She couldn't even to pinpoint when her defenses had weakened.

Feet aching, skin flushed from exertion and the way Klaus had watched her all night, she dropped her tray off and tilted her chin towards the storage room most of the girls took their breaks. Gloria gave her a brief nod, and Caroline slipped downstairs to take a breather. She needed to cool down, but more importantly, she needed to think.

The stone walls were as familiar to her as the wooden floors of Gloria's. Tonight it smelled a little like smoke, and Caroline winced as she thought of the talking too someone would get. A misplaced spark, and a fire would be disastrous. Some girls were still silly enough to risk it once Gloria banned taking their breaks outside.

Going outside meant running a risk of being seen by cops or some uptight parishioner, or worse, being mistaken as a prostitute. Caroline had been on the streets at sixteen, and knew what some woman had to do to survive. But for all that those parishioners claimed to be part of God's work, they could be violent if they thought they were being denied.

She settled onto the single stool that had been left downstairs for their use, and sighed. Closing her eyes as she wiggles her aching toes, she smoothed down the sequins and of her skirt, taking a moment to check the pinned curls of her updo. She should never have given herself that taste.

She'd known Klaus was dangerous when she'd met him. Caroline had lived in danger her entire life, her drunkard father and his associates had rarely concerned themselves with William Forbes' daughter. She'd grown up in the shadow of the mob, and she'd never managed to walk away from it entirely.

But her father had been a type of danger she could run from. Klaus was more more insidious. He was physically stronger, but it was how he affected her emotional that worried her.

At sixteen, she'd scraped and hidden away just enough pocket money to escape her father. Hungry and desperate for work, Caroline would never forget that Gloria had taken a chance on her when she'd walked in and begged for work. She'd spent six months organizing stock, until Gloria had deemed that she'd put enough meat on her bones to work the floor.

It was how she'd met Klaus.

And she wasn't sure how to handle the kind of emotions he wanted from her. He'd made it clear he wasn't interested in just something pretty on his arm. In fact, once she had hit eighteen, she'd never seen him with a gal at the bar, although there were many rumors of the dames who shared his bed.

Sighing heavily, she let her mind wander to that first meeting as the sweat on her skin slowly cooled. Her first job for Gloria had entailed coming in just before dusk to do a stock check and reorganize anything that had been misplaced the previous night.

Caroline had liked the work, had taken to Gloria's system readily enough. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she'd waited just twenty minutes longer to go upstairs, if Klaus would have shown interest in her.

She'd been so skinny then, under fed and wary. But Caroline had taken pride in her work, and had put effort into organizing bottles correctly and quickly. She'd been distracted by a loud bang one night just as she'd finished up, had hesitated only for a moment before carefully walking up the stairs.

She hadn't been expecting the sight in front of her when she'd cracked the door open.

"Caroline," Gloria said harshly as Caroline stared at the man slumped over the bar. It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing was his brains, leaking into the wooden bar. "I told you to stay downstairs."

Caroline very carefully didn't look at either Gloria or the man she only just see a shadow of in her peripheral vision. There was blood splattered near her feet and it took effort to hold her gorge. Taking a deep breath, her voice still trembled when she spoke. "Until I'd finished. You told me to stay until I'd finished."

The unexpected huskiness of male laugh lifted the small hairs on the back of her neck. "Another one of your strays, Gloria?"

"A child."

There was a hiss of a match, and then the smell of tobacco. Caroline looked away from the cooling body, hands pressed flat to her thighs to keep them from trembling. A low, accented voice murmured into the silence. "Leave us."

Gloria hesitated at her side, before heading down into the storage room. For a brief, frantic second she thought about joining her, but that a dead end. She wouldn't die in the dark. Caroline closed her eyes for a brief moment, before she finally turned to face the man who'd apparently murdered so casually.

She was startled by how young he appeared, the rough scruff on his cheeks doing little to hide the youth of him. But his eyes were hard, and she'd seen the like before. The particular brand of coldness that spoke of killing intent.

He took another drag of the cigaret, and watched her for several long moments. "You're timing is quite unfortunate, sweetheart. Another few minutes, and I'd have been gone."

Caroline held her tongue, not sensing a question. A hint of a smile played over his lips, and he nodded to the body. "You're first?"

"No." She had spent just enough time on the streets to see death, but she was also William Forbes daughter. She'd watched men die since she was a child, knew the way eyes looked as life faded. Her father preferred to strangle his victims, it was the gore she was unfamiliar with.

A glint, behind the blue of his eyes, a flash of curiosity as he took in her clothes, the waif thin frame. "Then you understand something must be done."

Caroline lifted her chin. "Will you kill me then?"

A thoughtful glance, before he ground out his cigaret. "That depends love. The scales are currently unbalanced, as it were. I'm sure you'll make a all kinds of promises, should I ask it of you. Keeping them, now there is a trick."

Her heart was a jackhammer in her ears, but her tone managed not to shake as she spoke. "And what do you want from me then?"

He stood, surprisingly lean, for all that he felt so much bigger. She'd have thought he was taller. This was a man many men would underestimate, and she knew many of them would die. Walking over, he pushed the body off the bar, so that it collapsed with a thud of muscle and bone. She tried not to think of it. The slap of limp his hands as they hit the floor.

"A price," he said serenely. "I don't trust, love, you understand? A skirt without price is either a liar or a fraud. So tell me, what will you ask for to keep your silence?"

Caroline bit her lip, as he continued to watch her with unblinking eyes. "Why? Killing me would be easier."

"Gloria and I have a bit of bargain," he said carelessly. "I make an attempt not to kill her workers and she doesn't complain about the occasional spot of murder. I haven't heard her swearing, as she redoes your work, so you must be somewhat competent. You'll find, sweetheart, that working for Gloria means working for me."

She swallowed hard, as she realized the tightrope she stood on. Caroline had known that Gloria had to have mob ties, to serve guests during the prohibition. There were too many vices here, to have been independent. Perhaps this man would let her go and she could run, but where would she go? Her mother's family in Virginia had lost contact with her years earlier and she refused to crawl home.

So she'd given him a price.

Exactly five dollars more than the going rate for information on the street. She'd watched the amusement grow on his face, the glitter of approval as he'd started to peel away bills from the roll in his hand. She'd protested when he'd laid down more than she'd offered, and his dimples had startled her.

"It's not a bribe, Caroline, if it's such a small number. Consider it a favor. You'll owe me, and you'll keep that pretty mouth of yours shut. It'd be a shame, to fish you from the river."

Caroline hadn't taken a full breath until a Klaus had and left. She could still remember the way she'd trembled in the silent bar, the disbelief that he'd let her live. That night, she'd jumped at every shadow, and had woken up shaking from nightmares she couldn't remember. But she'd gone back the next day, and the next. And every time Klaus had appeared, she'd been tense and wary.

But that had been years ago.

"Hiding from me, sweetheart?"

Caroline's gaze snapped up as she hastily stood. Klaus had lost his coat, the slicked back curls glinting in the faint light. Her mouth ran dry as his gaze lowered to her lips, and she struggled against the blush that heated her cheeks. He saw it, if the wicked tilt of his lips meant anything.

"What are you doing down here?" She demanded, scowl darkening her face. "Gloria has rules."

He laughed lowly. "It's hardly my first trip to her cellars, Caroline. And you'll find the place has emptied in the last half hour."

She swore, moving several steps towards the narrow stairs. Klaus didn't budge. "I need to head back upstairs."

"You've got the rest of the night off," Klaus said. "Since you refuse to come back to my place, this is the best we can do for privacy, for now."

Her lips parted in surprise, and she licked dry lips as he watched her. "I'd have thought Stefan would be of more interest."

"Stefan still has a use or two, although that usefulness will last him a shorter duration than he knows," Klaus dismissed. "Rippers are easy enough to come by, when you know where to look. And I prefer mine with fewer conflicted morals."

She winced, walked away from him with quick, pacing footsteps. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Should I not?" His footsteps followed her, and she glared over her shoulder. "You did kiss me."

Caroline curled her fingers into her palms. He'd tasted of whiskey and tobacco, and while she'd had her share of dalliances over the years, nothing had felt so good. She'd thought of it constantly, fantasized about how things might have progressed had they not been interrupted.

Klaus must have read some of it on her face, because his lips curved. Caroline shivered, because she knew how that satisfied smile tasted against her mouth. He stepped closer, hand lifting to trace the curve of her mouth.

Caroline almost wished that each brush of callouses against her lip left her trembling from fear, and not a slow growing arousal. For two years, she'd avoided this heat in his gaze and the proprietary way he watched her. She'd pretended not to notice the way he snarled at anyone who showed her too much attention, and that he attempted to make up for it by tipping well.

Gloria had given her only one warning, when Caroline had turned eighteen.

"Klaus Mikaelson is as charming as the devil, Caroline. Be sure he doesn't swallow you whole."

As his fingers slid down her chin to trace the line of her throat, tongue wetting his lips, her thighs clenched tightly together. Sucking in a breath, she caught his hand. "Klaus."

"Caroline."

She dug into lightly with her nails, and his gaze returned to hers. "You're not an easy man to be with."

"You want me." The assurance in his voice was irritating. Her mouth opened, closed, and he smiled with lazy intensity. "Tell me, if I slipped my fingers beneath your skirts, Caroline, how wet would I find you?"

She was blushing then, words sputtering off her lips. "That's not important."

Klaus laughed softly, his free hand running down her side, following the curves hidden by the fit of her dress. "I find it of great import. How often do you think of me, these nights I spend devouring you with my eyes? Do you walk among the crowds and entertain your patrons, hot and slick for me?"

Caroline determinedly ignored the way she couldn't quite stop herself from swaying into him at his words. His eyes roamed her face greedily, taking in the flush of her skin and the dark of her eyes. When she spoke, her words were firm and husky.

"If I agree to this, to you, you wouldn't let me go."

"Are you sure that's what you'd want?" He asked. She released his hand and stepped back, the stone wall behind her cool against her spine. Klaus followed her, the heat of of him hard against her front as he traced delicate patterns against her collarbones.

"You know what I am. You know what I'm capable of. And you haven't run. You've had the opportunity. The leverage. But for four years you've held my secrets."

She licked her lips, swallowed as he watched the motion. "Perhaps I was afraid. Your men are often enough beneath my window."

"Fear doesn't turn a woman's cheeks hot with arousal, Caroline. And while I don't mind a bite of it in my bed, true terror has not sat on your face when you looked at me for years." He bent his head, kissed the bare patch of skin beneath her collarbone slowly. Licked it, with one hot stroke of his tongue. She gasped, jolting against him, and he hummed lowly.

"That didn't sound like fear."

"Klaus."

It was supposed to be a husky reprimand, but it came out low and breathy. His smile burned her skin, but he lifted his head. "As for my men, I protect what's mine, love."

She rolled her eyes. "But I haven't been yours."

His hand lifted to cup her jaw. "No? After this last year, the ordeal with your father, is that what you're truly believe?"

She tucked her lip between her teeth. Perhaps that had been her first true falter, in her denial. The day she'd seen William Forbes in the crowd, and panicked. The smart move would have been to run, to race home to gather would she could, and leave the state. Thanks to Klaus and his generous tipping, she had a decent stash.

Instead, she'd swiped another bottle of whiskey, and strode straight for the back booth, heart pounding. Klaus had taken one look at her face and scattered those who sat with him. She'd slipped across from him while he lit a cigarette and offered it to her with steady fingers.

He'd asked her what was wrong. Even knowing that what confiding in him could mean, she'd explained in terse sentences between unsteady drags of tobacco. He'd waited until she'd finished, and merely promised to take care of it. Her fingers had trembled so badly as she'd watched him, that he'd offered her the dish to put out the butt. For a long moment she'd struggled with what to say, in the end and simply thanked him and left.

As far as she knew, they'd never found William. His body wasn't one of the many dumped in pieces, and she didn't know if anyone would look for him. But whatever Klaus had done, he'd done it without asking for anything in return.

"It's not that simple."

"I disagree," Klaus said. "Do you remember the first time you saw me?"

"Standing over a body."

His dimples cut deep, and his thumb brushed her cheek. "Such a defiant little street waif, with such wary eyes. You were an amusing distraction after that; uncertain if you should bite back or retreat. Then on your eighteenth birthday, you sang."

"I like singing."

"I know," he said easily. "One day, you'll give me a private show, naked in my bed while I try to distract you with my mouth."

Her breath hitched.

"Your voice," he continued. "Goes straight to my cock. But it's stopped being about merely having you for years. I want you, but I want all of you."

"I like my independence," Caroline said lowly. "Having my own money."

"My men would be highly disappointed if they could no longer take turns sitting at the bar," Klaus said with a shrug. "Although I doubt they'll miss the time spent beneath your window in winter. You'll come home with me. Each night. And I'll find it within me to not murder every man who looks at you and thinks of sex."

Her lips parted to complain about his high handed demand, but they never made it past her lips. Klaus dipped his head, mouth open and demanding against hers, and she drowned in the taste of him. Her fingers tangled carelessly into his perfect hair, tongue drinking in the whiskey and smoke of him. He pressed her against the wall, hand fisting in her skirt to lift it higher, so he could press into the cradle of her legs. She whined as he pulled his mouth away, lips flushed and wet.

"Tell me you want this."

His fingers snuck along her thigh, brushing perilously close to the wet heat that would give her away. She sucked in a breath, chest heaving. She slid one hand out of his hair, trailed it along the short scruff of his beard. "I want this."

A curve of his mouth, satisfied and triumphant. "Good."

Caroline's mouth dropped open when his knuckles parted her folds, sliding along the slickest part of her. Her fingers fumbled in his hair, hand pressing against his neck as she tried to breath. Another slow caress, and then one finger slipped slowly inside her. Her breasts strained against their bindings, and his gaze lowered, something hungry in his gaze.

"How I wish this was my bed, where I could unwrap you."

She shuddered, clenching down as he added a second finger. Nails digging into his skin, her hips rolled against his hand. "I haven't. Agreed, to go home with you."

"Not yet," he rumbled, thumb sliding up to circle her clit. She jerked against him, struggling to hold his gaze as he devastated her senses. "I'm willing to persuade you."

She was panting, sweat damp at her temples and her spine. Klaus' gaze was unblinking as he watched her chase her orgasm, lips parted as she stiffened against him, body shaking through her high. Her spine melted against the wall, and he slipped his fingers free of her, only to bring them to his mouth.

Her fingers dropped to his belt, scrabbling for a moment as she tried to unhook it. His hand lowered to help with his fastenings, and he moved her away when she tried to touch him.

"Klaus."

"If you want to touch me, you'll do it in our bed," he said firmly as he reached down and hooked one of her thighs over his forearm. Her lashes fluttered as his cock teased her swollen clit.

"Mean," she rasped, as he made no further move to slid inside her.

"I love your legs," he said, fingers running damply along her thigh. "I want them around my waist. Over my shoulders."

Her eyes widened, and he pressed into her smoothly, the stretch of his cock inside her perfect. Their mingled moans were loud, and she clamped down as he pulled out to repeat the thrust. The angle was amazing, the feel of him better, and her head dug into the wall behind her as she writhed.

"So lovely," he growled as his fingers snuck between them. His fingers were shaky as they circled her clit and then pinched down, and she jolted, her orgasm a rush in her veins. A few rough thrusts and he joined her, body tense against hers.

She stared up at home as they slowly came down, nails digging into his scalp as he pulled free. Her thighs were slick with their combined release, and she watched with greedy eyes as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Klaus brushed his lips across hers and then he lowered her leg, and smoothed her skirts. "Come home with me."

"For tonight."

His smile was wicked. "Shall we argue tomorrow then? I'm game, love, but can you stay so circumspect if my mouth is on your pussy?"

Caroline glared. "Are you trying to get me fired?"

"Of course not," he drawled, kissing her palm. "But I'm not adverse to playing dirty."

"I'll think about it."