Notes: I reblogged a list of adorable post breakup AUs the other day and some fic has resulted! This is a AH AU in which KC have an awkward run in.
Of All The Gin Joints
(Prompt: kc + we bumped into each other in the street and you were grinning like a cocky asshole the whole time so i stalked off only to realize i'm wearing your shirt. Title from Casablanca. Rated T.)
She's in the candy aisle, trying to decide if her uterus wants Peanut Butter Cups or Kit Kats this month, when she hears her name. Caroline closes her eyes, immediately recognizing the voice.
If ever there were a time for some kind of latent mutant power of invisibility to manifest now would be it.
She's out of luck and Klaus is, as usual, persistent. She feels him draw closer, and she swings her basket in his direction just in case he decided to do his distracting leaning thing. It's always been harder to think when he's in her bubble. She keeps her eyes tightly shut, in denial about the conversation she's about to have, until he stops right next to her. "Caroline? It's good to see you. You look…"
Ugh, she looks terrible and they both know it. It's 11 PM on a Friday and she's dressed solely for comfort, her face bare of makeup. Her hair is still piled up in the sloppy knot she'd tossed it into when she'd decided to try to ease her aches and cramps with a bubble bath. Her eyes pop open, just to glare at him, "Don't even think about lying to me, Klaus. Flattery will get you nowhere."
His lips twitch and he smartly smothers his smile before it can grow, "I was going to say tired."
"Rude," she mutters, turning her attention back to her snack selection. She studies the wall o' chocolate in front of her like it contains the answers to the universe's important questions, hoping Klaus will get the hint and mosey his well-formed butt back out of her orbit.
This store is way closer to her apartment than his. Totally her turf.
He clears his throat and she relishes the hint of his discomfort, "I received your package."
After their breakup, once she'd spent a solid weekend on wallowing, Caroline had attacked her tidy apartment until it freaking sparkled and she'd had to crack a window to let the aggressive lemon and pine needle eau de chemical dissipate. She'd scrubbed Klaus out of her space, tossed everything he'd given her or left behind in a box and had it mailed over to him.
Told herself that out of sight out of mind was the best play as she'd gone through her Instagram and deleted him from it too.
The pictures are still on her phone, tucked away in their own folder. But that's her little secret.
Kat had offered to play messenger but Caroline had figured Klaus' belongings would end up in a dumpster somewhere if left in her care. Possibly even on fire. She hadn't cared overly much about his stuff but it had been important to her that Klaus get her message, that he know she's going to be just fine. "That's nice," she says, taking care to seem absent and chilly. "Should I be expecting one of my own? I left a pair of earrings on your bedside table. They were a gift from my dad so I'd like those back. I can write down my address if you've forgotten it."
His next exhale is harsh and she glances down, sees his hands flexing at his sides, "I remember your address just fine, love."
His aggravation? So delicious. "If you say so. My phone number seemed kind of tricky for you at the end so you can't blame a girl for wondering."
She suppresses a wince at the obvious bitterness of the words. So much for playing the ice queen. The dig barely makes sense – no one remembers phone numbers anymore, thanks to the magic of cell phone technology – but she can't quite help it. Caroline would like to think she's more pissed off than hurt about the way Klaus had withdrawn but were that the case she'd be closer to being over him than she really is.
"I know the earrings are important to you. I made sure to stow them safely."
She turns towards him, her ratty tennis shoes squeaking loudly on the linoleum, his words mystifying me. "You barely listened to a word I said that night."
His expression grows frustrated, his gaze dropping for a moment. When he looks at her again there's a new determination to him. "I listened, Caroline. Always."
She can't help but be skeptical, doesn't try to hide it from him. The last night she'd spent at his apartment they'd ordered take out, had eaten on his couch, a movie Caroline can't recall playing on his television. He'd seemed preoccupied, hadn't offered much when she'd asked him questions about how his week had gone. She'd found herself talking, trying to fill the silences between them. Quiet moments with Klaus had been rare, sure (they'd only been seeing each other for two months and had plenty to talk about), but they'd never felt uncomfortable before that night.
She'd figured he was maybe just dealing with some work stress, maybe something was going down with his siblings (most of whom seemed legitimately crazy). She'd slipped out early the next morning, left him a quick note saying she'd call him later.
When she had, it had gone to voicemail. He hadn't tried again until Monday. When he'd called her office then she'd made up a meeting to avoid talking to him for longer than a minute.
Kind of petty? Yes. She hadn't been proud of it but resisting the urge to give him a taste of his own medicine had been impossible.
From there things had snowballed. In the worst possible ways. He'd been distant, she'd refused to chase him. She'd done all the work in relationships before and a huge part of Klaus' appeal had been how sure he'd seemed about wanting her. How unafraid he'd been to let her know of his interest.
She should have known it wouldn't last.
Caroline shakes herself, forces her eyes away him and his too compelling face. She reaches out and grabs a fistful of chocolate bars blindly, tossing them in her basket. "Whatever, Klaus. You're allowed to change your mind. No hard feelings."
Such a lie but Caroline needs to get away from Klaus before she starts being too honest.
"Just send me my stuff, okay? You can even C.O.D. it if you want."
She turns to go but Klaus lurches after her. He doesn't reach out to physically still her but something in his voice, an urgency, has her steps halting. "Wait. Just give me a minute. Please."
Her brows creep up in surprise, "A please? Wow. And I didn't even have to…" Caroline presses her lips together, cutting off the so not appropriate joke she'd been about to let fly.
Klaus knows exactly what she'd been about to say and he closes the distance between them. His voice lowers, "You shouldn't sound so surprised, love. You are the only woman who's ever made me beg."
Caroline refuses to think about that night. Any of their nights. She wraps her free arm across her stomach, gripping her opposite elbow and drawing herself up, spine straight and proud. She takes a quick glance around but their aisle remains deserted. Even so, she lowers her voice, "Don't deflect. We both know the sex stuff wasn't the problem."
"No, I was the problem. I'll admit that freely."
Caroline almost drops her basket, shocked at the admission. "Are you drunk?" she hisses. She's been trying not to look at him too long or too hard but she does so now, checking for any unsteadiness of redness in his eyes.
No way does she trust herself to get close enough to sniff test.
"Perfectly sober," Klaus declares. "A good thing. I hadn't expected to run into you this evening but I've been working on what I want to say to you. Would hate to waste the opportunity."
"Whoa, there's no opportunity here," Caroline counters, rocking back a step. "I'm going to pay for my stuff and I'll be on my merry way. Like I never saw you."
"Just give me ten minutes," Klaus says, coaxing. "We can go to the café you like around the corner." He taps the edge of her basket, jostling her purchases – tampons, chocolate, Cool Ranch Doritos and a couple packs of razorblades (because Kat's determined that Caroline's going to get under someone else ASAP and she hasn't shaved her legs since her weekend wallow) – knowingly. "Something tells me you could use a slice of their chocolate crepe cake right about now.
Damn it, that does sound good.
"You're playing dirty."
Klaus isn't fazed by the accusation, not that Caroline would expect him to be. He's even less apologetic about his ruthless streak than she is about hers. He watches her intently, "I miss you, Caroline."
She sucks in a breath but doesn't have time to formulate a reply.
"And you miss me too," Klaus continues, so very sure of himself.
That pushes her from shocked to pissed. "Excuse me? Presumptuous much? I am…"
He cuts her off again, "You are wearing my shirt. Funny, that, given how promptly you returned my other belongings."
Caroline had gone still as soon as the words had spilled from Klaus, resists the urge to look down and give him the satisfaction of double checking. She'd plucked his shirt out of the box just before she'd sealed it. Has been wearing it to bed and around the house regularly ever since. It's well worn, and freakishly comfy, the cotton worn thin and soft.
Maybe she misses him, a little, but he's not supposed to know that.
"I'd offer to give it back right now but I'm not walking back to my place in just a sports bra. I'll wash it and get it to you next week."
He shakes his head, "I don't want it back. And I note no denial about missing me."
She sighs, feels herself deflate, "I really don't want to do this. I liked you, you know that. I'm trying to get over it and as much as I'd love to stuff myself with crepes on your dime it's only going to set me back. So I'm going to…" she tips her head toward the exit, offers him one last wan smile.
"Don't get over me."
"Klaus…"
He shoves his hands in his pockets, more words rushing from him, a hint of desperation thickening his accent. "I'm quite certain getting over you will be nearly impossible. And I don't want to try."
"That doesn't make any sense. All you had to do was try. I felt like you lost interest. That's not a crime but you should have just told me. Maybe we could have been friends."
"I don't want to be your friend."
"Well, ouch." She hates that it stings.
"Not because you're not a fantastic person, sweetheart. I want to be more than your friend."
"Could have fooled me," Caroline mutters. Still, she doesn't make any effort to leave. Call it curiosity, or maybe she's a glutton for punishment, but she really wants to hear what Klaus has to say.
"I realized that I'm in love with you. That night, when we were bickering over what to order for dinner. I was just… so happy doing something so trivial with you. And I started thinking that the odds that I'd ruin things were high and I thought I'd spare us both the inevitable pain."
Caroline cannot believe they're having this conversation under fluorescent lights, surrounded by terribly fattening foods. He seems earnest, looks more nervous than she's ever seen him. He's also tense, like he's poised to spring, either to run away or to stop her from fleeing. Her own emotions are a jumble. She's pissed off, kind of relieved. Trying not to let herself get too hopeful. At least not until she's pumped him for more information. "Wow. That's…" she trails off, trying to find the right words. "Really stupid."
He laughs, the sound loud in the store's late night hush. There's surprise under the mirth. Hope too, if she's not mistaken. "I suppose I deserve that."
"Yeah, you really do."
Klaus reaches out, wraps his fingers around her basket's handle and Caroline lets him take it from her. He looks cautiously pleased, gestures for her to walk ahead of him. "Is this a yes to the café?" he ventures.
She shoots him a smirk, reaches up to pull her hair out of its messy bun. He watches raptly as the curls settle about her shoulders and oh, how she's missed that look.
However, Caroline has no intention of making things too easy on him. She needs a lot more explaining, a little more groveling. "What can I say?" she says, even and breezy. "Sometimes a girl needs cake."