Timing Is Everything

(Prompt: "We're both in a bank when it gets robbed and now we're part of a hostage group and while we're stuck here what's your name? Are you single?" AU. Rated T.)

Klaus shifts impatiently, mentally calculating how quickly he can sprint through the airport if he needs to. And it's looking like he'll have no other option. His eyes make another impatient sweep of the bank, first darting between the two tellers who are working before lifting to check the clock above their heads. He then casts his eyes to who he assumes is a third teller though this one doesn't seem to be doing anything productive. Like helping customers.

Klaus supposes his current situation is his own fault. He should have picked up the Euros he'd ordered yesterday but he'd assumed, obviously incorrectly, that if he got to the bank as soon as it opened he could be in and out and on his way without much delay.

But no, that hadn't happened. He'd been waiting for ten minutes already and there was no end in sight. There had been two people waiting in the vestibule for the bank to open and their business did not appear to be at all quick. Klaus half listens with some sympathy to the pretty blonde teller attempt to explain the nuances of online banking to an elderly woman. Her nameplate says Caroline and Klaus can tell her smile is forced though she remains scrupulously polite. Her brunette co-worker, Bonnie, sifts through a mess of tattered cheques that had been dropped in front of her, mostly ignoring the man leaning casually against her counter and attempting to make conversation of the personal variety. Klaus does his best to keep his obvious ire away from them, since they are working, though he amuses himself by sending the odd coldly impatient glare at the other man who remained clicking away at the computer two windows down, avoiding eye contact with Klaus.

He makes a mental note to switch his accounts over to another bank when he returns from his trip. This one quite clearly had no concept of the importance of customer service.

Klaus makes no attempt to supress his sigh of annoyance, letting his foot tap out a staccato rhythm against the polished stone floors. He catches the blonde teller's eye when he glances her way and she offers him an apologetic smile.

Well, at least someone here wasn't completely incompetent.

Klaus hears the door open, several pairs of feet trooping in. He doesn't bother to look behind him, eyes glued to the second hand making a circuit around the clock face. Two more minutes and he'll give up and resign himself to paying the ridiculous fees to make the currency exchange at the airport in Vienna.

He glances at the blonde again only to find her staring behind him, wide eyed and frozen in apprehension. Then he hears a distinctive grinding of metal on metal, a sound he recognizes though it's the sort of thing one generally only heard in movies. Klaus is just beginning to pivot when a gruff voice barks, "Everyone! Put your hands where I can see them! Now!"

He chances a glance over his shoulder, manages to count six men, all armed and dressed in black, faces obscured with ski masks and dark glasses. One of them aims a gun in his direction, nods down to his hands, "Are you hard of hearing? I meant you too. Face the front."

Slowly, Klaus lifts his hands to shoulder level, turning back to see the tellers, and their customers, doing the same, faces etched with varying levels of panic. The old woman looks distinctly unimpressed with one hand held limply at her side while the other one clutches her cane like she'd thinking about swinging it.

The male teller seems to be faring the worst, shaky and beginning to sweat. One of the armed men strides passed Klaus and taps the counter in front of the blonde. "I'm going to need you and your colleagues to come over here. Nice and easy, don't even think about attempting any thrilling heroics. I'd hate to have to ruin your pretty face."

Her eyes narrow at the implied threat but she doesn't flinch away. She turns but is quickly stilled when the man giving the orders slaps his palm down, "Uh uh uh," he admonishes. "Climb the counter. I don't trust you not to do something stupid," he leans towards her lowering his voice in a way that Klaus thinks is supposed to be jovial, "There's always a dumb bitch who tries to run," he says, shaking his head mockingly.

He sees a flash of anger in her eyes. Klaus watches her take a deep breath through her nose and exchange glances with her brunette co-worker who shrugs helplessly. "Yeah, this isn't going to be pretty," she mutters before planting her hands on the counter and boosting herself up. Her knees hit the wood with a smack that sounds painful and she shuffles forward awkwardly. Klaus sees the problem immediately, her slim skirt clings to her thighs, all the way down to her knees, limiting her mobility. She pauses when she's at the front edge, gripping the sides of the teller's windows and considering her options.

The bank robber (because Klaus has connected the dots) huffs impatiently, gesturing for her to hurry up. "Sometime today would be nice," he tells her snidely.

Her eyes spit fire in his direction before she quickly looks away, her lips pressed together to hold in what Klaus assumes is a blistering retort. She leans awkwardly to one side, attempting to swing her legs forward but the space between the partitions is too narrow and she can't manage it. He steps forward without thinking, grasping her hips and pulling. She makes a startled noise and clings to his shoulders and Klaus holds on while she gets her feet under her.

Her shoeless feet, Klaus notes with a hint of amusement, covered only by sheer black nylon.

"Did I say you could move?" the man with the gun snaps.

Klaus turns and regards him calmly. "No, but I do believe your only instruction was to keep my hands visible. Which I did. I simply thought it best to avoid letting the lady crack her head open while she followed your instructions."

Caroline stiffens, the hands that had lingered on his arms tightening. Klaus hears a hoarse laugh, followed by a cough from behind them. The elderly woman, who'd been quietly observing, pipes up, her voice the sort only lifelong smokers can claim, "He's got you there, boy. Nice to see that some young men are still aware of the existence of chivalry."

The man with the gun glares passed them, "Did I ask you, lady?"

"I'm ninety two," the woman tells him disdainfully. "More than old enough to offer my opinions freely, thank you."

He puffs up and steps towards her and Caroline briefly closes her eyes, shifting like she's going to step between them. Klaus grasps at her shirt (he'd honestly bet on the woman and her cane) but another voice, harsh and commanding, breaks over them. "Quit screwing around, Mike. Don't even think about clocking a little old lady. We'll be fucked with every jury in the state once she hobbles up to testify."

Mike (and Klaus isn't precisely an expert but should they really be using names?) whirls, "Jury? Why're you talking about juries? I thought this thing was foolproof."

"Nothing's foolproof," the other man deadpans. "This is crime. Might as well cover all our bases. Speaking of, why don't you do your job? Get the zip ties and get the hostages settled. I just sent the others to the back."

Klaus can't make out Mike's expression with his face covered but from the tense set of his shoulders, the jerky way he yanks off his backpack and begins rummaging, Klaus is going to assume that he's not pleased with the way that rank's been pulled. Klaus eyes him critically, notes the lanky frame and lack of hair around his lips. Mike's young, Klaus would guess.

"Everyone in the center of the floor," he orders gruffly.

Klaus waits for the elderly woman to begin to make her way over, releases Caroline so she can follow and brings up the rear. They're joined by the other bank employees and the customer who'd also had the poor luck to choose today to attempt to sort out his finances. Klaus hadn't paid him much mind before but runs his eyes over him now, notes he appears unruffled, almost bored. He nods at Klaus, "Bad day to get an early start wasn't it, mate?"

Mike kicks at the back of his ankle, "No talking. I want you all to empty your pockets. And your purse, lady. I want phones, all your cash, cards, and any jewellery."

Klaus bites his tongue because this really was like something out of an awful action movie. He digs out his wallet and unclasps his watch, watching out of the corner of his eye as Caroline toys with the necklace she's wearing with a wistful expression. She shakes her head, works the closure open, and drops it on the ground. Mike's eyes rove over her, "Your earrings, too."

"These? They're not worth anything. They cost me thirteen bucks."

"Don't care. They'll look real nice on my girl."

Again, Klaus watches with great interest as Caroline seem to fight with herself, gritting her teeth together and dropping the earrings in Mike's outstretched palm. She smiles sweetly, "Tell her they're from H&M. They come in three different colors."

Mike doesn't seem to register the sarcasm, pockets the jewellery before crouching to collect his other spoils. He raises his voice once more when he's vertical, despite the fact that they're all standing in a clump immediately in front of him. "Sit down, hands and ankles together. I want a nice, tidy row. Think y'all can handle that?"

Klaus was really getting sick of Mike.

He does as he's told however, smart enough to know that a petulant child with a gun likely wasn't the sort to make good life choices. Caroline's skirt gives her trouble again and she ends up half in the other teller's lap. "Sorry, Bon," she mutters, low enough not to be heard. "I really shouldn't have tried to look cute for my last day, huh?"

The woman smiles wanly, "Some last day."

They both quit speaking when Mike nears, a bunch of plastic cord in his hands. He starts at one end, working with brusque efficiency, wrapping a tie around each person's ankles and wrists until they were sitting in a row, legs stretched out in front of them, bound hands resting in their laps. He's only got the elderly woman to contend with and she's still standing. She meets Mike's expectant gaze scornfully, "If I get on that floor I'm never getting up so I'm going to have to decline."

Mike throws his hands out impatiently, "Listen, Grams, do you have a death wish?"

She remains unmoved, "Did I mention that I'm ninety two?"

Klaus sighs, rolls his head to the side to look at them, letting his gaze rest on the woman's cane, "Do you really think she's going to run?"

"Even if she did," Caroline pipes up, "I'm pretty sure you could catch her."

"At least get the poor woman a chair," the man who'd spoken earlier adds. "Honestly, what would your mum say?"

Mike appears to be floundering and the other person from his group is less then helpful. "They've got a point. I know your mom, remember? She'd give you a hell of a slap if she saw you right now."

With a low noise of frustration Mike stalks off, yanks a chair from the small waiting area and drags it over. "Fine," he exclaims. "Sit, make yourself comfortable. Let's have afternoon tea while we're at it."

"It's 9:30 AM," the second bank robber points out calmly.

Mike shoves the chair away, letting out a harsh laugh. "You know what? I can't do this anymore. I'm going to see what's happening with the vault. You watch the hostages."

From their earlier conversation Klaus suspects that the second man could overrule Mike but perhaps he's also sick of the kid. He waves him away with a bored gesture "Just keep out of the way, will you? Try not to get any extremities blown off."

Mike flips him off as he leaves, disappearing down a hallway. Their new captor is evidently far more easy going, jerks his head in the direction of the remaining chairs. "I'll be just over there. I will be watching you. This is almost over, folks. Don't do anything stupid and mess it up for yourselves." He shoots them one last warning glare before retreating, shifting the seats he has a direct eye line and propping his feet up on another.

Klaus' fellow hostages are quiet for a long moment, the only sounds the light rustling of their clothing as they attempt to get more comfortable. The other teller, Bonnie, is the one to break it, "So… this isn't what I thought I'd be doing today."

"Think of it as an opportunity to spend more time in my company, Bonnie dear," the customer she'd been dealing with says. "I saw you checking me out, don't deny it."

The woman bristles, "I was not, Mr. St. John. You're the one who constantly flirts with me."

The man seems unconcerned, "I do, it's true. I do believe you should call me Enzo under the circumstances."

The male bank employee, the one who hadn't managed a peep so far, spoke up, his voice shaky, "Fraternizing with clients is against our code of conduct."

Caroline snorts, "So is fraternizing with your coworkers but that doesn't stop you from going home with Ms. Pierce every time we go out for drinks."

"Caroline," he hisses, red flooding the paleness of his cheeks, "That's not…"

"No one cares, Matt," she says dismissively. "We've all got bigger things to worry about than you screwing your way to a promotion. Like the fact that we're currently hostages."

Klaus raises an eyebrow. He'd detected more than a hint of bitterness in that statement and Caroline had said it was her last day.

"Well," Klaus interjects, rationalizing that keeping things calm is probably prudent. He preferred the man with the gun to remain where he was, even if he seemed to be the most relaxed of criminals. "Now that we've making introductions it's probably my turn. I'm Klaus and I'm currently supposed to be on a flight to Austria. I do hope I can convince the airline to refund my money."

"Doubt it," the bank robber calls from his chair. "What's a little hostage situation to a major corporation's bottom line? Nothing, I'd bet. You're screwed, friend."

Ah, so he was a Robin Hood type. Interesting.

"What's in Austria?" Caroline asks curiously.

Klaus shifts slightly, his leg pressing into hers, "That's what I'm going to find out. I did a quick pass through on a backpacking trip post university and I'm going back to do a more thorough tour. I try to hit a country or two every year."

Caroline grins, "That sounds amazing."

Bonnie knocks her shoulder playfully into Caroline, causing her to sway slightly into Klaus. She leans over to catch his eye, "Do not get her started. She'll talk your ear off and my life is too depressing to hear any more stories of the grand European adventure this one has planned."

"Oh?" Klaus asks, "And when do you set out?"

"Day after tomorrow," Caroline chirps, practically beaming. "After Matt stole my promotion by banging our boss I decided screw this place and threw some resumes out. Got something better lined up that starts in about a month so I figured I'd treat myself to a much needed vacation."

"All by your lonesome?" Klaus questions, forgoing subtlety altogether. "Or is there a boyfriend tagging along?"

Caroline's smile turns sly, head tipping to the side as she studies him contemplatively, "Just me. I was planning on getting friendly with the locals, if you know what I mean."

Bonnie huffs out a laugh, "Everyone knows what you mean, Caroline."

"Nothing wrong with a vacation fling," Caroline insists. "It's the 21st century."

"Best time to do it is when you're young," the elderly woman says. "If I had legs like yours I'd be doing all the flinging I could."

Caroline laughs softly and Klaus can feel it where they're pressed together. "See? Mrs. Haysmith is with me." She elbows him gently, and Klaus glances over in question. "What about you?" she asks.

"What about me?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, "Austria. Are you going alone? I'm assuming no given the way you're looking at my legs but it's possible you're just a creep."

"Mrs. Haysmith pointed them out, love" Klaus tells her, attempting to sound innocent. "You can't blame a man for looking under those circumstances."

She arches an eyebrow, unimpressed, "And earlier when I climbed on the desk?"

"Merely concern for your safety, of course."

She glares though it lacks true rancor, "I'm beginning to lean towards creep since you're so set on dodging the question."

Klaus opens his mouth to reply but he's interrupted by one of their audience. "Yes, mate, do confess. I'm on the edge of my seat wondering if you're going to get slapped or if I should be taking mental notes about this little chat for my toast at your wedding."

"Oh my god, shut up, Enzo," Bonnie hisses.

He's impervious to the admonishment, crowing, "So you do know my name."

Her sigh is exasperated, "Why would you even be at their wedding?"

"Um, due to the lifelong bonds people forge in high stress situations?" he says, tone implying that it should be obvious. "And Gorgeous there has always been nice to me and I bet she'd throw a fantastic party."

"You are all insane," Matt mutters, picking at the starched cuffs of his shirt.

He's mostly ignored. Bonnie and Enzo continue to bicker, edging closer together, and Klaus leans into Caroline so he can speak without being heard. "I was going to Austria alone. To answer your question."

She picks up on the emphasis, just as he'd meant her to. Klaus isn't a big believer in fate, or signs, but he's not one to pass up on a golden opportunity. Caroline's beautiful, strong willed and feisty. He suspects they'd have plenty of fun together. He's eager to get to know her and what better way than exploring unfamiliar places together?

"Was?" she repeats. "Planning on cancelling?"

"No, not exactly. Just thinking a few changes might be in order."

"Oh? What kind of changes?" she sounds curious, eyes bright with intrigue and Klaus is certain this is the best idea he's had in a long time.

He smile, pressing against her more deliberately. He wishes he could touch her, plans to rectify that oversight as soon as he has his hands free. "That, Caroline, depends entirely on you."