Notes: I blame Wikipedia for this one. I saw 'Gingerbread Man' in the list of fairytales and my brain went to a weird place. This is the first of two drabbles posted today. Enjoy!

He Looked Good To Eat

(Prompt: Fairy Tale AU + Magical Accidents. The silliest thing I've ever written, sorry. Rated T but there are illusions to some smut things. Title from The Gingerbread Man Poem)

Caroline's slow to wake. She's been enduring soft little taps on her nose and it's irritant she'd been hoping would go away. Unfortunately, the feeling persists. She groans, swatting at whatever's there. Her hand doesn't connect with anything and she's startled to feel fleeting bursts of pressure dancing down her chest.

Why in the world does she smell cookies?

"Psst, Caroline!" a voice hisses. "Wake up! I need your help."

She scrunches her nose up, because now she has more questions. Like, what's Kol in their bedroom? Is he trying to get his neck snapped? Even if he'd brought cookies Klaus will still be pissed. He's gotten a bit territorial about his claimed space since Caroline had moved in. Not that she minds. Rebekah helping herself to things from Caroline's closet, while bitching about how tacky Caroline's wardrobe is, hasn't been endearing.

"Caroline! Rise and shine!" Kol sounds weird. His voice somehow smaller somehow, pitched high.

"Go away," she mumbles. "Sleeping."

"That's a lie," he counters. And then the tapping is back, faster and more insistent. The cookie smell grows stronger and she wonders if Klaus had compelled somebody to make breakfast.

That might be worth getting up for.

She's woken up when he'd left the bed. Klaus had muttered something about having to clean up a small mess in the quarter while it had still been dark out, had told her to go back to sleep. She'd been tired and hadn't objected. Klaus exists on very little sleep, part habit part side effect of being super old. Caroline likes her beauty rest.

She forces her eyes open, only to shut them immediately, the scene in front of her too freaking weird to be real. There's no way a cookie was standing upright in front of her face, little limbs waving wildly. What kind of nutty dream is she having?

Kol huffs impatiently. "No. You need to get up," he insists. "Come on, wakey wakey." The pressure on her chest returns, more insistent. Almost like someone - a very tiny someone - is bouncing on her sternum.

"I must be high," Caroline grumbles, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"I sincerely wish that were the case," Kol says. "At least you're not currently naked, missing several important parts of your anatomy, and in danger of crumbling."

She pushes up on her elbow and Kol lets out a short shout, tumbling feet (if you could call the stumps that he currently sported such a thing) over head and landing at her side. He leaps up, eyebrows pulled down indignantly.

"That was rude," he mutters petulantly. The sniff and the offended toss of his head as his rounded hands pat down his body is what convinces her that he really is in her room and he really is somehow a walking talking baked good. She recognizes the mannerisms. They're classic Kol, something he does often, usually when he's being a dick on purpose and riling Rebekah up.

Those incidents usually end with silverware embedded in Caroline's walls so they're pretty memorable.

Caroline sits up properly, yanking the covers up to her chest. She's not betting on Kol's sentient cookie state making him less pervy.

Never a dull moment in New Orleans.

He's a gingerbread cookie, judging by the spicy smell. She ignores the growling of her stomach and Kol edges away, eyeing her suspiciously.

Please. Like she'd be willing to eat him. Who knows where he'd been?

She flips her hair out of her eyes, "Which witch did you piss off this time?"

He averts his gaze, tiny crumbs breaking off of his foot as he scrapes it against the sheets. She shoots him a warning look – she's not a morning person - and Kol stills, shoulders sagging in defeat. "There was a meeting of all the covens last night…" he begins.

She interrupts him, "Yeah, I don't need to know the little details. Just give me a name." She's owed a couple of favors.

"Well, I met a lovely…"

"Nope. From what I know of your track record I can guess why you ended up like this. Maybe you should be a little more discerning and your sex life wouldn't be so disastrous. Not that I want the particulars. Gross."

Kol quirks a brow, definitely judgemental, his little sprinkle gaze shifting to the nightstand where a set of ribbon ties, a bottle of lube, and a blindfold rest. "Do I detect a hint of judgement, Caroline? A bit uncalled for given how adventuresome you and Niklaus are?"

She refuses to blush. She's a seventy six year old vampire with a very satisfying sex life and that is nothing to be embarrassed of.

"That's my first condition," Caroline counters, leaning over to open the nightstand drawer and sweeping everything she doesn't want Kol leering at into it. "If I fix you, you agree not to make any more comments about the sex I'm having."

"Ever?" Kol says, obviously incredulous. "I'm afraid that's just not possible. You've got a few decades on you. Surely you can imagine how very long that is?"

Ugh, she supposes he has a point. Besides, getting Kol to cut out his innuendos and insinuations is only her first condition. She's got more in mind, some of them doozies. "Fine. Ten years."

"Deal. Pleasure doing business with you. Now, I know the Bennett…"

Caroline laughs, loud and bright, hopping out of bed. Kol had clearly underestimated her. He trails off, eyeing her in confusion. She pats his head, gently with one finger, because she's not a monster. "If you think I'm going to help you undo this, keep it a secret from Klaus and Elijah, and not take pictures for Rebekah to laugh at later, your brain must have seriously shrunk when you were cookiefied."

"But…" Kol attempts a protest but Caroline's already heading to the bathroom.

"No buts. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes. And if you don't stop getting crumbs on my sheets I will dunk you in my morning coffee."

He's muttering as she closes the bathroom doors, some rather unflattering observations about her person, her lack of generosity and her mercantile spirit.

Honestly, she thinks she hears a tinge of admiration.

Still, Caroline's definitely sneaking some video. As an insurance policy. There are a few cameras strategically hidden around the room. She can access them from her phone.

If Kol sticks to his end of the bargain the footage never has to see the light of day. If not? Well, Caroline's certain Rebekah will pay handsomely for proof that Kol had once been four inches tall and smooth everywhere.