Notes: Just fluff in this one! A small Celeb AU.
Lookin' Sharp
(Prompt: this one came from a convo with Angelikah about Polyvore alternatives. I found a really bad, insanely expensive, dress and then this drabble happened. In which Caroline is a stylist trying to talk Klaus' fake-girlfriend into less hideous options. Rated K+)
She's exhausted.
The consultation Caroline's just walked out of had been a battle, one she'd had to smile through. She's had to offer gentle suggestions, attempt subtle nudges, even though everything in her had been dying to scream, 'Are you freaking blind?!"
Such bluntness would have tanked her business so Caroline had managed to refrain. Barely.
She's dealt with difficult people before and had eagerly tackled this latest job despite warnings not to. She'd never been one to back down from a challenge. She'd thought she was up for anything but then she's never met a woman (a woman in her twenties, no less) who thought a shapeless shiny mint green caftan was a good look for a Golden Globes after party.
Until today.
Dragging her feet through the parking garage Caroline has to admit that she really should have listened to Kat. Kat had warned her that socialites were the worst people to style, that having more money than sense was a super common thing. Caroline had brushed off the words at the time, figuring that her client's reputation – sweet, agreeable, super committed to using her dad's money to help ex-cons – would mean she'd be an easy paycheck.
It burns that she'd been so very wrong.
Still, she's not beaten just yet. Caroline's mentally listing jewelers who like her, hoping she can find a necklace spectacular enough to distract from the chosen dress' awfulness. She's thinking diamonds the size of golf balls might do the trick.
"It's a lost cause, you know."
Caroline's heart lurches as the words ring out, her body tensing. She whirls, dropping the armful of garment bags she'd been lugging out to her car. She hadn't recognized the voice – she's never heard Klaus Mikaelson say so many words at once. At least not in real life.
He's a few paces behind her, hands up and a contrite expression on his distractingly handsome face. "Apologies," he murmurs.
She relaxes, but not completely. She's pretty sure Klaus isn't going to stuff her into a trunk and drive her to a murder cabin but he's still a very big deal for a girl trying to make a name for herself in Hollywood. He's hot and arrogant but with buckets of talent to back it up. He's a tabloid fave and could easily ruin her though she can't think of why he'd want to.
Caroline presses a hand over her chest, takes a deep breath. "You scared me. Do they teach you how to walk like a sneaky ghost when you sign up to play a superhero or something?"
He smiles and she's glad he hadn't taken offense, "I wasn't making an effort to be silent. Perhaps you were just preoccupied?"
That's possible. She hadn't thought Klaus had been paying attention to the consultation but maybe she'd been too busy biting her tongue to notice. A client who flat out refused to listen to sense, who appeared to see something vastly different than Caroline did when she looked in a mirror, is proving to be really freaking frustrating.
She couldn't exactly tell said client's boyfriend that, could she?
She pastes on a sunny smile, "Well, award's season's just about to go into full swing. I have a lot on my plate. I'm sure you're very busy too."
Caroline hopes it's a subtle enough hint. She's curious about why he's followed her out, hadn't been lying about having an extensive to do list. She's positive she hadn't forgotten anything, that the four trips between condo and parking garage haven't been in vain. She can't exactly go making demands though, not from a guy whose next movie is projected to have a 100 million dollar opening weekend.
"Not for a few weeks yet," Klaus says, crouching to gather her scattered things. Caroline hurriedly follows, brushing off the pebbles and dust from the bags he hands her. "I'm just supposed to smile for the cameras and look pretty. Make people forget about the… incident in Las Vegas."
She chances a glance at him, unsure of how to react to that statement. She'd never have thought he'd make such a direct reference. His face isn't particularly animated. She sees no embarrassment, maybe just a hint of exasperation.
Caroline knows there's no way she'd be able to be blasé if photos of her naked body had been splashed all over the internet. Then again, she'd never play strip poker with total strangers.
It hadn't quite been a full frontal shot - Klaus had been lucky, and a champagne bottle had been optimally positioned on an end table - saving the pics from being fully NC-17. Had circumstances been different they might not have even caused a stir. Klaus Mikaelson's resume had a couple of racy film and TV appearances from before he'd left England on it, not that Caroline had googled him.
Okay, fine. She hadn't googled him recently. And she definitely hasn't watched the compilation vid of all his sex scenes on YouTube since she'd met him in person.
Unfortunately for Klaus (and really unfortunately for his publicists) the timing of the photos of his drunken debauchery leaking couldn't have come at a worse time.
He'd been voicing a character in an animated feature when they'd come out, a gruff but loveable lone wolf who learned about the power of friendship. That, plus a superhero blockbuster on deck, meant he had to appeal to the broadest audience possible.
The pictures were the opposite of wholesome, damage control was necessary. Caroline takes Hollywood gossip seriously, considers it part of her job to be well informed. She starts each day with coffee and a scroll through all the pertinent websites. She knows he's been volunteering with soup kitchens, had adopted a rescue dog. Had read all about it when he'd gone public with a relationship, one with a textbook good girl, a couple weeks ago. They've been papped holding hands and getting fro-yo and generally being snuggly.
In public, at least. In private, from what Caroline's observed, their relationship isn't the warmest. Klaus has usually been in the background at their meetings, glued to his phone and making noncommittal grunts when asked for an opinion.
Caroline's not sure how to address the Vegas incident without putting her foot in her mouth so she decides to go back to his original statement. She straightens, folding the stack of dresses over her arm, "What did you mean about a lost cause?"
He's edged closer when he stands. She keeps her eyes trained on his face, not on the way the fine weave of his shirt clings to his shoulders. "Just that your work's not going to end up on any best dressed lists. You've tried to steer her towards flattering and age appropriate but she's remarkably convinced her perspective is the right one. It's not just clothes, if it's any consolation. It's everything."
Wow. It certainly seems like there's trouble in paradise. Caroline does her best to be diplomatic, "Personal style is a funny thing, I guess."
He grins, head tipping to the side, "That's an impressive non-answer. My publicist couldn't have crafted it better and I pay her exorbitant sums of money."
Caroline can't help but take that as a compliment. "It's a gossipy industry. Badmouthing clients is going to lead to fewer opportunities not more."
His eyes sharpen, "Ah, speaking of opportunities, I'd wondered if you might do me a favor."
A favor? That seems suspicious. "What kind?"
He laughs softly, "Nothing nefarious, love. I'd merely like a ride."
"A ride?" she repeats, eyes shifting over to the black SUV she knows belongs to Klaus.
"In your backseat. Covered in a few of the bags you brought with you. Passed the paparazzi that are staked out on this block. They need to think I've spent the night, you see. And I'd really rather not."
This conversation just got weirder and weirder. "Did you… I mean, it's not any of my business if you guys are fighting but maybe talking it out would be better than fleeing?"
He looks at her as if she's said something crazy. "We don't talk. Well, no more than necessary."
"Sounds like a healthy relationship," Caroline quips. Her eyes widen and her teeth snap shut in horror. Had she seriously just said that? She's so freaking fired.
Klaus surprises her though. He laughs again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the concrete walls around them. She's confused, and frozen, unwilling to say anything that might make things worse. When he calms he shifts closer, relieving her of some of the bags. He's quieter when he speaks, like he's sharing a secret. "We're not in a relationship. Not really. It's a contract. A mutually beneficial agreement. I raise her profile, she makes me look like a fine upstanding citizen. Everybody wins."
Huh. While Caroline knows those kinds of arrangements happen, at least intellectually, she'd never expected to be a party to one. "That sounds…"
"Awkward?" Klaus supplies, "tedious? I can assure you it's both. We'll have an amicable breakup in April, pledge to stay friends. I'll be done with press and can disappear for a bit."
A thought occurs to Caroline, one that she doesn't like. "Wait, did you fake adopt a dog too? Because that's not cool." She'd seen snaps of him walking the dog, some kind of Labrador mutt, and it's really freaking cute.
"No, Munch was legally and truly adopted. He's likely being given too many treats by my assistant as we speak.
Caroline nods sharply, satisfied, and fishes out her keys so she can pop the trunk of her car. "Good. If you were a faking a dog adoption I'd have to assume you're a garbage person and I would not let you in my backseat."
"Big fan of dogs, are you?"
"In theory, yes. Not in practice just yet. Not until I can afford a yard."
She begins loading up, carefully arranging things to maximize the space. She feels Klaus watching her carefully but she focuses on her task. Now that she knows he's single the little devil on her shoulder is urging her to flirt. Whispering that the worst thing that would happen is that he wouldn't reciprocate.
And if he did? Well, Caroline wouldn't mind seeing him naked again, this time in person. Would be seriously onboard with touching him while he was naked.
"Perhaps you'd like to meet him? You could come in for a bit once you've dropped me off?" he asks.
Caroline rears back, nearly hitting her head on the open trunk.
Klaus makes a soft noise, concerned, and his palm brushes over the back of her head, lowering to settle on her shoulder. "Careful. No need to injure yourself. I'd much rather we have dinner than take a trip to the emergency room."
Maybe she had hit her head. "Dinner?" she parrots. "Like, together?"
He inclines his head, a smile curling his lips. His thumb strokes her neck, an absent gesture that's unfairly distracting. "You, me, the dog begging for crumbs. We're working on it but his manners aren't the best. If that goes well I hope you'll agree to do it again sometime."
Clearly, Caroline hadn't needed to talk herself out of flirting. Klaus didn't share her qualms. Unless this was another step in his image rehab. She shifts back until he's no longer touching her, crossing her arms. "Is this another contract kind of thing? Dating someone who's not super rich so you seem down to earth?"
Klaus' denial is immediate, "No, nothing like that. I've just spent an awful lot of time studying your face, wondering at the comments you've been holding back. You're remarkably easy to read when you're frustrated."
Whoops. Caroline makes a note to work on that. Her clients are a self-absorbed group but it's possibly someone will notice her internal screaming at some point and she can't have that. At least not until she's more established. "I suppose I could eat," Caroline says slowly.
Klaus expression warms, his pleasure evident in the way he rocks back on his heels. "Lovely. Just let me program my address into your phone."
Caroline hands it over willingly, doesn't shy away from the brush of his fingers against hers, letting her body rest against his more than necessary as she returns to packing up.
Half-assing things isn't in her nature. If Caroline's going to flirt (and oh boy is she ever) she's going to do it right.