Notes: I've been struggling to focus on any of my multi chapters these last two days and when this prompt came across my dash I couldn't resist! Mostly silly with a teeny dash of angst.

Klaus Mikaelson: Dog Whisperer

(CRACK. Based on the prompt (via auideas on Tumblr): "You should hear what your dogs say about you while they're at the dog park. Do you really cry while watching cartoons?" Rated T.

The sixty-four years that have passed, since Caroline woke up with an ache in her gums and a hunger unlike any she'd dealt with, have honed her senses well. There are six people in the vicinity and four dogs, including hers. It's the only dog park in the small town, and the humans all milling about are regulars. They know she likes to be left alone.

When another presence enters the park Caroline feels it, even though the entrance is fifty or so feet away.

It only takes another few seconds and her senses register something off about the newcomer. It's not a human, she knows that for sure. Doesn't quite feel like a vampire, either. She steers clear of werewolves, for obvious reasons. Two bite wounds are more than enough for this lifetime, but she doesn't think that's who's approaching her right now.

She tenses, ready to fight if necessary, and glances over her shoulder.

And then she tenses even further, because it's Klaus and he's headed directly for her.

Her first instinct? To scoop up her dog (despite how odd it might have looked to the humans scattered around, a slender blonde hefting a 70lb Gerberian Shepsky with ease) and run.

Her brain tells her that's stupid a stupid plan. And pointless too, Klaus being so much faster than she is. But it's been a long time since she's seen anyone who knew who Caroline Forbes used to be. Not since Bonnie died and Elena woke up. And The Salvatore's took their miracle cures, dooming that love triangle to an eventual, human, death. She gets emails, occasionally. But watching her other best friends grow old and die has little appeal.

Klaus grins at her, rounds the bench she's seated on and settles himself next to her. He plucks the tablet she'd been reading from her hands, scans it for a moment before he arches a brow at her suggestively.

His timing is impeccable, of course. She'd just gotten to the smutty part. The rakish Duke deflowering the bluestocking spinster. With unrealistic multiple orgasms and everything.

She snatches it from him, scowling, and Klaus lets her, leaning back and stretching his legs out, "Not a work I'm familiar with," Klaus muses, "but I suppose I see the allure."

Before Caroline can gather herself enough to formulate a comeback they're interrupted by a large ball of fur and muscle bounding over and squeezing herself into the space between their legs. The dog circles and sits down, leaning against Caroline.

Surprisingly, Millie doesn't growl or bark at Klaus, her usual reaction to strangers. She's a mite protective of Caroline, has been ever since Caroline fished her out of a dumpster, two years ago, even when she was too small and clumsy to do much damage.

The dog cocks her head to one side, and Klaus offers her his hand. Millie leans forward to sniff at him, and Caroline prays that the puppy school lessons have stuck, and Millie's well and truly out of her crotch sniffing stage.

Because that would have been embarrassing.

After a moment Millie allows Klaus to pet her, and when he rubs behind her ears her tail thumps on the ground in bliss. Weren't dogs supposed to be good judges of character? She loved Millie but perhaps her dog was defective somehow.

"Interesting," Klaus notes.

Unable to help herself Caroline asks, "What's interesting?"

"For one, I'd never pegged you for a dog person, your attraction to those with wolf blood aside."

Caroline rolls her eyes, a habit she'd never been able to drop. She thinks about arguing the point, because the smug way Klaus had side-eyed her made it pretty obvious that he was including himself in that group of werewolves.

But the hours they'd spent together, touching and tasting, sometimes playful, occasionally a little rough, and always intense, would have made any denial Caroline attempted a big fat lie. Besides, shouldn't she be passed feeling like she had to deny something like that? There was no one left to judge the tangle of feelings Klaus used to inspire. So she offers a casual shrug, "People change."

"Mmm. And you have. You used to be happy, Caroline. You loved life enough to ask me to save you, even though you didn't trust me at all. What happened?"

Caroline bristles, his words hitting far too close to her weak spots, "Excuse me? I'm perfectly happy, thank you very much. Don't think you can come here and assume you still know me, Klaus."

Millie lets out a whine, turns away from Klaus and lays her head on Caroline's lap.

Klaus glances from the dog to Caroline's face, and says just about the last thing she ever would have expected "Do you really cry, watching cartoons?"

Caroline gasps, "How do you… are you spying on me?" it comes out high pitched, almost a shriek, and several heads turn in their direction.

"Not at all, love. If only you could hear what your dog says about you to the other dogs at the dog park."

Caroline can feel her mouth opening and closing, but no sounds come out as she tries to process what Klaus just says. Because it sounds like he's saying he can talk to her dog. That's not a thing, right? She'd know if that was something werewolves could do. Tyler had been the freaking love of her life, once upon a time. That's information he would have shared.

"Sure, Dr. Doolittle," Caroline says scornfully, "My dog told you my life's a mess. I'll still be checking for hidden cameras when I get home."

"Your dog's quite chatty, actually. Perhaps there's some truth to the idea that canines take on some of their owners traits. She thinks you need a bigger car. And is not a fan of your new perfume. I'm inclined to agree. A few too many floral notes."

Caroline can't help the look of betrayal she shoots Millie, who stares back innocently, nosing her hand in a demand for it to continue stroking her fur. But that's crazy, right?

"Oh, ha ha. Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Klaus? And how you knew I would be?"

"It's entirely coincidental, that I found out you were living here. The vampire, who runs the café you go to occasionally? A friend of Elijah's."

"Ugh, of course." Didn't it just figure that the one vampire in town was chummy with an Original? Caroline hadn't really interacted with the woman, mostly avoiding the café even though it serves coffee far superior to anything else around. But, every once in a while, Caroline gets a craving for the toffee cheesecake the cafe makes, that just won't be denied.

"Yes, Agathe is one of my brother's favorites. They exchange letters semi-annually. The last one mentioned a blonde vampire named Caroline had moved town, suffering from a case of ennui. She's a mother hen type, always has been."

"That's not a very specific description," Caroline replies, still finding the story suspicious.

"No. But Rebekah's a terrible snoop, you see. Read the letter, wrote to Agathe for more details. I believe the little sneak might have even sent a photo to confirm your identity. Relayed the information in her own sweet time, of course."

"And so you came to check on me?" Caroline makes no attempt to hide the incredulousness she feels.

"Something like that," Klaus hesitates for a moment, and when he speaks again it's almost tentative, "I once told you that there's a whole world out there, remember?"

"I've seen it."

Klaus chuckles, "Oh, I very much doubt that love. Nearly eleven hundred years now, and I still manage to find new things occasionally. You've been wallowing, for quite a while, I think."

Caroline doesn't bother to deny it. And there's no point in explaining. She's hiding, and she knows it.

A silence falls between them, and Caroline finds herself sneaking peeks at Klaus, who seems perfectly content to just sit on a park bench with her. But she's never been good with quiet contemplation and she has so many questions. Most pressingly, and the easiest to tackle, "So, wait. You can actually talk to dogs?"

Caroline watches a smile curve Klaus' lips, "It's a well-kept secret, but yes. Usually. The little ones, the really overbred ones, are difficult to understand. Some are quite stupid, too."

Caroline considers that, still not entirely sure he's serious, "To be fair, I've met some really stupid people."

"As have I, sweetheart."

"You really don't like my perfume?" Caroline asks as she drops her head, hoping to catch a whiff. She'd thought it was nice when she'd bought it last week.

"I don't. But then I'm biased. Surely you recall my fondness for your natural scent, Caroline?"

She blushes, damn him. The memories suddenly vivid. The decades, or her recent celibacy, must have weakened her defenses because that low, suggestive tone did things to her.

Klaus watches her knowingly, and she half expects him to touch her. Half suspects that she'd let him. But Klaus stands, shoves his hands in his pockets, "May I buy you lunch, love? I know for a fact that Agathe has some specialties that she doesn't whip up for just anyone."

Caroline only hesitates for a moment. It's easier, than she ever though it would be, Klaus' company. He doesn't feel like home, nothing does anymore. But he reminds her of who she once was. Of what it was like to be brave and resilient. And she doesn't have to lie to him, like she does with so many people these days. With a sigh she stands up, brushing off her clothes. Millie sits patiently while Caroline clips on her leash, "Sure. But only if you tell my dog to keep her mouth shut. It's not fair if she's spilling all my secrets."