Notes: Another one from my tumblr prompts. Thanks to those who've reviewed! I always appreciate hearing from y'all and it makes me want to write more.
Floating In a Most Peculiar Way
Prompt: KC + "I'm stuck in the Mars colony, and you came to rescue me. Oops, I just kissed you, but it's totally because I'm grateful, not because I love you and thought I'd never see you again… Ha… Ha… Maybe a little." AU. Title from "Space Oddity" by David Bowie. Rated T.)
Her cell is bare, made of a plain grey stone that she can't identify. If she had to guess she'd say she's underground, some place naturally formed and then retrofitted into a prison. It's chilly and musty smelling but clean enough. The small room holds nothing but a cot and toilet. A tray of food sits just inside the door.
Caroline's stomach growls, hungry enough that even the unappetizing lump of lab grown protein she'd been given seems like a mouth-watering meal. She can hear nothing from beyond the thick metal door she's locked behind, has no idea what time it is. She doesn't even know what planet she's on or who abducted her.
She's seriously regretting leaving Othea.
If only she'd never found the picture.
She'd been making breakfast just before she'd found it, had been delighted to find the tiny, cramped kitchen in Klaus' rented quarters well stocked. He'd had real fruit, actual bacon. She'd rummaged through his kitchen to orient herself, then gone searching for something to tie back her hair.
A faded photograph, creased and seemingly forgotten in a drawer, had obliterated her good mood.
The Klaus in the picture had been younger, clean shaven and dressed in finery that was a far cry from the heavy boots and body armor she was used to seeing him in. She'd recognized two other faces. Front and center, sneering and superior, had been Mikael, the wealthiest and most ruthless merchant in the galaxy. He'd had his arm around Finn, his son and favorite minion.
Mikael had killed her father, had her mother tossed into a prison Caroline's never been granted permission to visit. Her step-dad and his daughter had been to a harsh belt of mining planets. She's been on her own before she'd reached adulthood. Mikael had ruined her life and Caroline had spent the last twelve years working to return the favor.
Seeing Klaus with him, in what looked very much like a family photo, had left her chest tight and her eyes stinging.
She'd told herself it was anger. At Klaus, for being so persistent, for teasing and taunting and for seeming like he cared.
She'd written him off the first time he'd walked into the bar she worked at. Bounty hunters were always, in Caroline's experience, unbearably cocky. She smiled and flirted with them, for the tips and in hopes she could glean information or an opportunity from their drunken loose lips.
Klaus had turned out to be different. Or at least that's what Caroline had thought.
He'd been a little more polished, well spoken, distractingly handsome. He'd kept coming back. Until bantering with him between customers was one of her favorite things and she'd started to let him know her, to let personal details slip into their conversations, something she did with very few people. He'd brought her gifts – pretty things, practical ones. A bracelet of pale blue stones, a tiny laser cutter that was just as powerful as something ten times larger. She'd tried to refuse them, of course, but he'd somehow always manage to slip them onto her person. She'd find them days later, in the bottom of her bag or tucked into a pocket when she went to wash her clothes.
He'd made a point to let her know when he'd be off planet. She'd worried when he didn't turn up after a job.
When he'd strolled in to the bar, three days after she'd been expecting him, with a black eye and a bit of a limp, she'd leaned across the bar and yanked his mouth to hers before he'd managed a greeting.
She'd closed up early that night.
They hadn't slept much but she'd woken up with a smile, half buried under Klaus' lean frame, pleasantly sore and sated.
Her contentment hadn't even lasted the hour.
Hesitations led to injuries, sometimes death in Caroline's more clandestine line of work and so she'd acted as soon as she's processed the image she's found. She'd slipped back into Klaus' room and retrieved her boots and pants. Had been out the door and sending Kat an SOS before he'd even stirred.
Had her haste made her sloppy? Had her bruised feelings caused her to missed a tail and the signs of danger? Caroline had thought she was better than that.
She tosses another disgusted look at the lumpy grey substance that's supposed to be food, deeply regretting that she hadn't taken breakfast to go as her stomach's angry growls intensify.
Even if she'd wanted to eat it she can't risk being drugged into docility.
The list of people who'd kidnap her, or pay to have her kidnapped, is shorter than it used be. Several of her enemies are dead (or worse) but she's still got more than her fair share.
She needs to keep a clear head if she's going to save herself.
Caroline paces, learns the parameters of the cell. She has no weapons, no means of calling for help. She's been snatched from a transport ship, and no one will know she's missing until she fails to turn up at Katherine's. She hadn't been due to arrive until next week.
The odds aren't in her favor but that's never stopped her from eking out a win before.
She feels the ground move before she hears the rumbling.
The floor shakes, seems to roll, and Caroline's tossed into a wall as muffled crashes rock her cell. Whoever's holding her is under attack, a vicious one, she'd guess, and it's steadily moving closer.
She'd retrieves the cutlery she'd been provided with. The set's made of flimsy metal but, alone underground in enemy territory, while things are exploding, she'll take any weapon she can lay her hands on. She tucks herself into a corner, and fervently hopes she won't be forgotten.
She'd heard her guards muttering while she'd come up from sleep. They'd been paid handsomely - two warships, and weapons enough to outfit half a dozen more - to transport Caroline across the galaxy. Surely her captor would not allow her to die alone and waste such a hefty investment.
The lights in her cell flicker, then go out, and her cell is rocked again. The explosions feel like they're just outside the walls that trap her, their impact more extreme. The stone against her back vibrates hard enough to jar her. Caroline clenches her teeth against a shout when she's showered with debris.
She lurches across her cell, planning on squeezing herself under the meagre protection of her cot, when everything goes still. She pauses, squints in a futile attempt to see in the pitch blackness of her cell. She changes course, darts as quickly as she can towards the door and yanks at it.
Somehow, it's still solidly sitting in its frame.
"Come on!" Caroline yells, putting all her weight into jiggling the handle. When it won't budge she rests her ear to it, straining to make out any sounds on the other side.
Nothing. No footsteps or any sign of a captor coming to check on her. She resists the urge to kick the door – she's woken up stripped of her boots, jacket, and anything useful that might have been in her pockets – and instead runs her fingers over it, searching for an edge.
Hopefully, the blunt knife they gave her is up to the task of taking apart the hinges.
Her fingers ache, having become slick with sweat and blood from the nails she's ripped in her efforts. She's ignoring the crumbling of the ceiling, refusing to look when she hears bigger and bigger chunks fall behind her.
Caroline flat out refuses to die alone in a cell, the victim of a cave in. She's got too much left to do. Starting with ruining whoever had decided kidnapping her was a good idea.
The scrape of metal startles her and she straightens, backs away from the door warily. The turning of the lock is loud and she changes her grip on the knife, preparing to fight.
She cries out and has to turn away when it opens, the bright blue light her visitor carries hurts her eyes after hours in the dark.
She hears cursing, then the light is lowered and a pair of hands, familiar though she'd only had one night to get acquainted with them, briskly run over her, checking for injury. Klaus seems satisfied that she's whole, sinking a hand into her hair and covering her mouth with his.
It's a possessive storm of a kiss. He angles her head with a tug of her hair, groans roughly at the first hot glide of his tongue. He's frantic, sucking her lower lip harshly and tasting her deeply. Caroline doesn't even think about discouraging him. She'd been thinking she'd never see him again and, with her fate looking dire, she'd acknowledged that she wanted to. She parts her lips and presses up onto her toes, just as eager, plastering her body to his and relishing the need between them.
He's warm and solid, his stubble scraping against her skin. The sting convinces her he's real and not just a comforting figment of her imagination.
A loud, exaggerated cough startles Caroline and she shoves Klaus away. She wipes at her mouth, reality a harsh intruder. "What are you doing here?" she snarls.
He blinks, like he's confused by her harshness. And maybe that's reasonable considering she'd just had his tongue in her mouth.
"Rescuing you," he offers, like it's a question.
"I find that hard to believe." Caroline shoves passed him, stops short when she spies two more men in the doorway. One's wearing the same uniform as the guards who'd snatched her, the other isn't, has a gun pressed to the guard's head, but there's something familiar about him.
He bows at the waist, "Kol Mikaelson, at your service. Rescuing damsels is not my specialty but if they're all as tasty as you, darling, I might have to reconsider my line of work."
"Shut it, Kol," Klaus snaps. He grabs Caroline's hand, sets a pack into it. Positions his body between her and Kol, who she suspects is his brother. "Your things. Get your boots on, we're going to have to climb our way out."
She takes it, because she's not an idiot, and backs away. "Tell me why I should trust Mikael's sons."
Klaus' eyes narrow, "How do you know Mikael?"
She laughs, high pitched and derisive, at the ridiculousness of that question. So much of her energy, far too many of her waking hours, has been devoted to plotting Mikael's downfall. "I've never met him but I've been planning on killing him since I was about 15."
She expects Klaus to be angry, or maybe incredulous, to accuse her of being insane. Instead he smiles grimly, "Me too."
His answer throws her, "What?"
She hears a grunt, then a clatter, looks over Klaus' shoulder to see that Kol's standing alone now, the guard crumpled at his feet. "Nonsense, Nik," he drawls. "Your patricidal tendencies started years earlier."
"It's not patricide. He's not my father."
"Lucky you."
It's Caroline's turn to be confused. She's got at least a half a dozen questions on the tip of her tongue. Klaus shakes his head, reaches for her again. He cups the back of her neck, presses his forehead to hers. "Later. I'll tell you anything you want. But we have to go now. The building's heavily damaged."
Caroline knows he's right, "Okay." She drops to one knee and digs into the bag Klaus had given her. "You've got a way off planet?"
"Transportation and a safe house. They'll be looking for us."
"God I hope the walls are thick," Kol mutters. "I need my beauty sleep and I don't want to hear you too rolling around and moaning all night."
The withering glare Caroline shoots him is probably lost in the darkness. Klaus sighs from above her, the huff of air conveying a wealth of aggravation.
It kind of makes her want to mess with him.
"Who says I'm sharing a room with him?" she asks, fingers flying over her laces. "I ditched him before breakfast a couple days ago."
She hears a laugh, a thump that sounds suspiciously like a fist hitting a stomach, and then a wheeze. "I'm a bit puzzled about that, love. I thought I was quite hospitable."
"I found a picture." That, she now realizes, is where she recognizes Kol from. He's been in it too, tie askew and clearly inebriated. "A family picture."
"You couldn't have asked me about it?"
Maybe she should apologize for snooping but, since she hadn't actually meant to invade his privacy, Caroline's not going to. She strives to seem casual because she'd rather he not know how much it had hurt to leave him. "When a girl finds out the guy she'd spent the night with is closely connected to pure evil gut instinct takes over. I figured it was safer to run."
"How could you possibly think I'd hurt you?"
"There's a lot I don't know about you, isn't there?"
Klaus turns before she can get a good look at his face, stalks towards the door, the set of his shoulders stiff. It doesn't take a genius to work out that he's pissed.
She stands slowly, just in time to catch the light stick Kol tosses her way. "Just so you know, no one hates Mikael more than Nik." He's friendly enough and when she glances his way she finds he's watching her with a great deal of interest.
"Mikael killed my father."
"Another thing you and Nik have in common."
Kol leaves while she's still trying to process that and Caroline scrambles to follow, shouldering her bag and carefully picking her way over the debris that litters the floor. Klaus is just outside the door. He jerks his head to the left, "This way. Be careful."
Kol goes first and then Klaus waits for Caroline to follow. He stays close as they work their way down the corridor. She stumbles once and his hands are there, saving her from going down. He doesn't touch her otherwise and Caroline finds she's a little disappointed.
Kol's last remark has quadrupled the questions she has.
Maybe it's only practical to share a room.