Author's note: Thanks for your reviews! Here's some more drabbles I created for the Klaroween Bingo Event. Thank you for letting me know which ones you'd like to see expanded further!
Prompt: "Just one bite."
The imported sitatunga blood wouldn't set properly in the royal icing Caroline was trying to pipe along the sides of the cake sample slices. Grumbling to herself, she realized she should have known better — marsh buck blood tended to be thinner than standard domestic deer blood. As owner of Monster Cravings, her bakery catered to the unique palettes of New Orleans' supernatural population.
Freya and Keelin's hand fasting was in less than a month and Caroline had been asked to create their wedding cake. She had an appointment with the women this morning for a tasting, and as the bell jingled cheerfully over the door, and she called out, "You guys are right on time! I'm having a bit of trouble with one of the ingredients Keelin requested, but I think she'll fall in love with the hazelnut praline-rabbit blood filling."
"Your creativity seems to know no bounds, sweetheart," came a familiar accented voice.
She poked her head out of the kitchen and rolled her eyes when she saw Klaus leaning against her counter. The Hybrid King of New Orleans was a ridiculously attractive pain in her ass, who insisted on her creating all of the desserts for his various social events, but always wanted to argue with her over every single detail. He claimed to be a perfectionist, but Caroline knew he was really just a control freak. "Klaus, when your sister signed a contract with me, I included a paragraph that expressly forbid you from interfering. It was a Klaus clause," she swore, blue eyes glittering dangerously.
With a knowing smirk, he held up his hands in surrender. "Freya and Keelin had an unfortunate scheduling conflict with the priestess or the venue coordinator or some such nonsense and they asked me to stop by instead."
Raising a disbelieving eyebrow as she studied his fake innocent expression, she crossed her arms defensively in front of her B+ plasma and buttercream-smeared apron. "Fine. But we have a hard stop at noon — prominent members of the Carrolton troll clan are arriving for a tasting. And they are serious about their toasted coconut and caramelized thyroid glands."
"Understood, love," he nodded in agreement, "from the aroma, it smells like you're experimenting with venison blood and frosting?" He sniffed the air in appreciation, pushing up the sleeves of his henley to rest his powerful forearms on her counter.
Surprised, she answered, "Good nose, Klaus, even for a hybrid. Color me impressed." She slid the first slice toward him, explaining, "This is a sitatunga blood-laced royal icing cream cake. Keelin requested it as her wolf ancestors used to hunt the sitatunga in their homeland."
When his beautiful lips wrapped around that first decadent bite, Caroline did her best not to react. As a vampire, getting involved with a hybrid was a bad idea, but getting involved with the Hybrid King of New Orleans was an easily avoidable catastrophe. He would complicate her life in ways she couldn't begin to imagine. No thank you.
Closing his eyes and letting out a small, seductive moan, he told her, "This is exquisite, sweetheart."
As his tongue snaked out to delicately swipe at the corners of his mouth, Caroline watched in fascination, wondering if a little complication in her life would be so bad...
Prompt: Speed dating. In costumes.
The Creature from the Black Lagoon impatiently tapped her curved claws against the small table where she waited for the cheesy 'Find Your Boo' speed dating event to begin. It really wasn't her scene, but she decided it was time to stop pining over a certain dimpled asshat and put herself out there again. She'd begun working at Mikaelson Industries a year ago as a mid-level architect, and despite her laser-like focus on her career, she still managed to develop an inconvenient crush on one of the vice presidents.
Klaus Mikaelson was an arrogant bastard with a penchant for intimidating subordinates whenever he felt they weren't devoting their entire being into a project. He also was devilishly handsome with a sexy confidence that Caroline found appealing and irritating in equal measure. Her department was managed by a different vice president, so she only knew Klaus superficially. However, circumstances kept pushing them together — first there was the time he needed someone to review a construction schedule, then he asked her to accompany him on that site visit, and a myriad of other tasks that somehow all seemed to involve her expertise.
Slowly she'd gotten to know him, had learned his little tells that others seemed oblivious to — like how his left dimple deepened more than his right if he was amused but trying to mask it behind his usual scary face. Or, how his brow furrows slightly when he's fighting down a wave of disappointment — like the time his brother, Elijah, forgot his birthday. She'd recognized the signs that she was starting to fall for Klaus, and did her best to actively ignore this inconvenient crush, but last month, she finally couldn't take it anymore and did something about it.
The light was still on in Klaus' office despite it being after seven on a Friday night. Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly on the doorframe, her heart fluttering in her chest when Klaus greeted her with a warm smile. "Hello, love. You're here late."
"So are you," she replied, gesturing to his loosened tie and messy curls as she stepped further into his office. "Looks like your Friday was as rough as mine."
Groaning good naturedly, he gestured toward her and replied, "Not all of us can look as stunning as you." As though realizing what he said, his gray eyes widened, and he awkwardly coughed, suddenly finding the smoky glass top of his desk immensely interesting.
Emboldened by his words, Caroline seized the moment with, "I always think you look great too. In fact, I was hoping you'd be interested in having dinner tonight. Like a date. With me."
His stunned silence was deafening in his office, and Caroline could feel her face flaming in embarrassment when she realized she must have really read the signals wrong. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, she knew that whatever he said, no matter how polite, it would still really hurt. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I don't think that's a very good idea."
Despite the genuine apology she heard in his voice, she could feel her heart sink in disappointment. Doing her best to smile, she kept her tone light as she nodded, "Of course. I understand. I apologize for being so unprofessional." Backing out of his office with what little dignity she could muster, she mumbled, "I'll let you get back to your work, then."
After a month of wallowing (and actively avoiding Klaus), Caroline decided enough was enough and she joined her friends for this 1930s horror movie-themed speed dating event. At the sound of Bela Lugosi's iconic line, "I bid you welcome," the game started, with an attractive, cocky jock-type sitting across from her in a hastily thrown together Wolf Man costume. It was the type her teenage self would squeal over, but as he droned on about himself without letting her get a word in edgewise, the allotted ten minutes seemed to stretch on for eternity.
Finally, their date was over, but then she had to endure a bizarre brother duo dressed as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde who insisted they were a 'package deal'. They seemed way more into each other than her, but at least they didn't obsessively try to find the outline of her nipples in between the rows of scales on her costume like the Wolf Man kept doing.
By this point, her smile had drifted into something more automatic and probably painful-looking, but when Karloff's version of the Mummy sat down, she instantly perked up. "Are you a fan of Karloff's work? When I was a kid, The Mummy was my favorite!"
The man laughed, his voice a charming mix of playfulness with a hint of seduction. Noting that sexy accent, she realized she clearly had a type. "I was more a fan of his Frankenstein monster, but my mate called dibs, so I decided to be a gentleman about it. Actually, I preferred his work in 60s and 70s horror — Cauldron of Blood, Isle of the Snake People," he trailed off, seeming to realize he hadn't introduced himself yet. "I'm Enzo. And who might you be, gorgeous?"
Shaking his hand, she answered, "I'm Caroline. Actually, they show old horror movies every Saturday at midnight in the old theater downtown. Have you been?"
"I only recently moved to town," he said, leaning a bit closer as he suggested, "perhaps you'd be interested in showing me around, gorgeous?"
Feeling the first stirrings of excitement, Caroline started to answer when a familiar voice cut her off. "She's busy, mate. In fact, consider her unavailable for the foreseeable future." She looked up to see Klaus glaring at Enzo, his jaw twitching.
"Seriously?! What the hell, Klaus," she hissed, just as Lugosi's voice alerted them to move onto the next date. Enzo got up reluctantly, impishly sweeping in to brush his lips across her cheek, telling her, "Once you get this sorted, feel free to give me a call, gorgeous."
Did Klaus just growl? What the hell is wrong with him? Caroline watched in disbelief as he glared at the next unfortunate suitor standing awkwardly by Caroline's table until he finally shuffled away. "I'd prefer to whisk you off to somewhere considerably more private to discuss things, but I suspected you'd have some objections, love," he explained.
"How considerate," she said icily. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"
Klaus let out a sigh, clearly uncomfortable at her scrutiny. "I've been trying to work up the nerve to speak with you ever since that night, but I couldn't find the words and you ducked out of rooms any time you saw me, so I assumed you wouldn't be willing to listen." Frowning, he continued, "But then I overheard you telling Rebekah about attending her speed dating event, and I knew I'd run out of time."
"Out of time for what," she asked, perplexed by his manner. Was he nervous? She'd never seen him nervous.
"To ask you out," Klaus blurted, loud enough to turn heads at several tables nearby.
Prompt: Ghost Stories
Warning: Some angst with this one.
The handcuffs were starting to chafe. Caroline huffed in annoyance, glaring at the one-way mirror where she was sure she was being watched by the ungrateful detective. Only a couple of hours ago, she'd been wandering throughout the open-air galleries of St. Calude's Corridor, losing herself in the work of incredibly talented local artists, when the terrified young boy had approached her.
He looked to be around seven or eight, his tearful eyes widening as he stood in front of her. "Please help me," he said in a small, broken voice, "No one wants to help me." His tears made her heart ache, but she had to remind herself not to do something foolish, like wrap him up in a hug like she wished that she could. Because he was dead.
As one of the most sought-after spiritualists in New Orleans, Caroline was familiar with ghosts asking her for help, but it was rare that one so young understood enough about the afterlife to recognize her gifts. Taking a calming breath, she quietly told him, "I will help you. My name's Caroline. What's your name?"
"Henrik," he answered, his mouth trembling as he tried to get his emotions under control.
"Okay, Henrik, do you know what you need from me," she gently asked, heart pounding as she recognized telltale signs that the boy likely had been an abused child during his short lifetime. She'd already made up her mind that once Henrik's spirit was at rest, she planned to get revenge on whatever coldhearted bastard had hurt him.
Sniffling, the boy said, "I need to tell my brother, Nik, something. It's important."
Nodding in understanding, she replied, "Okay, I can help you deliver your message. Do you know where I can find Nik?"
Henrik eagerly pointed to a curly-haired man nearby, who was surrounded by a vibrant display of oil paintings she'd been admiring earlier. "That's him. I've been trying to talk to him for so long and he just won't listen," he said, stomping his sneakers in frustration.
"But I can talk to him, Henrik, and I promise I'll make him listen," Caroline swore to him, steeling herself for the next phase. As part of her process, she had to absorb a bit of the spirit's energy, not only to keep them on this plane while she spoke with their loved one, but also so that they could communicate crucial details that would help smooth over the skepticism she tended to receive. As she completed her task, she watched Nik, secretly pleased that he was part of the small artist community here — a creative soul tended to be more open to the ethereal and less likely to be stubborn about things they knew nothing about.
She wasn't sure what to make of the small blush that stained her cheeks as she saw the way his gray eyes lit up with interest when she approached him. "Nik," she said hesitantly, "I have a message for you."
The attractive, somewhat cocky expression on his handsome face evaporated as he said, "It's Klaus, actually. Only family calls me Nik."
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Yeah, I know. The message is from your brother."
"You know Elijah," he asked curiously, flicking his gaze at her with a bit more interest as he said with a wry grin, "You appear to be a bit more laidback and creative than what I'm used to seeing dangling upon my uptight brother's arm, sweetheart."
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she glanced down at her loose floral sundress topped off with a worn denim vest, and defensively answered, "This is my favorite outfit and I look really cute in it and I can assure you I don't dangle!" She could tell from the way his eyes lit up in amusement, he likely was gearing up for some teasing banter that she normally couldn't resist, but she glanced over at Henrik's bittersweet smile, and remembered why she was there.
She held up her hand to stop whatever Klaus was getting ready to say, and told him in a serious tone. "I don't know your brother, Elijah. Actually, I know Henrik. He approached me just now and needs me to deliver his message."
"My little brother has been dead for years," Klaus growled, his handsome face suddenly closed off and suspicious. "Whatever you're after, you won't find here. New Orleans is full of disgusting charlatans like you."
What happened next was a confusing mix of indignant shouting as Caroline defended her profession, and then furious bellows when she told Klaus several secrets from his childhood offered as 'proof' of her gifts. And that was when the handcuffs came out. Because apparently, brooding artist was just a hobby for Klaus. His day job was New Orleans police detective...
Which led her to this moment, where Klaus had shoved her in an interrogation room, had accused her of stalking his family, and had stormed off to no doubt run an extensive background check on her. She inwardly cringed as she wondered what he'd think about that time she was arrested for dancing naked among the jazz statues in Louis Armstrong Park. In her defense, she never backed down from a dare, and also, jazz musician spirits were hard to resist when they begged her to dance to their music.
Klaus suddenly returned, his voice mocking as he commented, "You've quite the colorful past, Caroline. Public nudity, grave robbing, disturbing the peace — in all your brushes with the law, it didn't occur to you what poor judgement it shows to try to con a police officer?"
Rattling her handcuffs in frustration, Caroline groaned, "That charge was total bullshit! That bokor wouldn't leave me alone until I broke into his crypt to find his talisman and give it to his daughter. Voodoo shamans are insistent fuckers — especially after they're dead," she confessed.
Klaus snorted in derision. "Despite the utter nonsense of your so-called profession, you mark an impressive list of influential clients from local celebrities to politicians."
He had no idea, Caroline smirked inwardly. Since word had gotten around about her, she'd advised three different Oscar winners and a foreign prince. She didn't have to prove she was real — it was already known. She could feel Henrik's presence in the room, the inevitable chill a spirit brought was something she'd never full get used to, but she was angry enough at his stubborn asshat of a brother that it kept her warm.
"Look, I get that you refuse to believe in things you can't see, but I've given you details about your family life that no one else could have known. Surely that should allow you to open your mind to alternative possibilities," she entreated, trying to keep her tone even and matter-of-fact. "Henrik told me how all of you were terrified of your abusive father, Mikael. How you'd hide him in the treehouse you built at the edge of the woods whenever your father's temper would get so bad that you all feared for your lives."
"Bloody useless considering I failed to keep him safe," Klaus muttered, a faraway look in his eye. Shaking himself, he glared at her once more. "This proves nothing. You're a fake, Caroline. Admit that you're only doing this to sabotage Elijah's mayoral campaign. This is just the type of dirty, underhanded tactics the Lockwoods would stoop to!"
Caroline sighed loudly, throwing her blonde head back as she stared hopelessly at the stained tile ceiling. They were getting nowhere. "Henrik wants me to give you a message and I'm not going away until you listen to what your brother has to say, damn it."
"Well, then, what's the bloody message," he asked in exasperation, running his fingers tiredly through his dirty blonde curls.
She bit her lip, looking down at her handcuffs as though they might have the answer. "I'm not exactly sure," she confessed in a small voice. "He's been a little vague on the exact details of the message so far. Just that it's important you listen to him." She shivered suddenly as she felt Henrik's presence a bit more strongly than before. "There's a feeling I get off of him that's more unsettled than many of the spirits I deal with. He's clearly a frightened child with a horrific past, but there's something else. Whatever's going on, it's incredibly dark and the poor kid is still afraid even after all of these years."
Caroline hated how her words seemed to cause Klaus more pain. Clearly the loss of his little brother, despite the passage of time, still weighed heavily on him. She told him softly, "Maybe his message is more about helping you find peace? He knows you feel guilty for being away from home the night he was killed. I'm sure he knows that it wasn't your fault. Mikael was a truly evil soul and if he wasn't already dead, I would be happy to call in a few favors on Henrik's behalf."
He started to say something, but was interrupted when a dark-headed man opened the door. His suit was impeccably tailored, and Caroline immediately felt the need to straighten her posture and stop chewing gum in his no-nonsense presence. "Niklaus," the man said impatiently, "we do not need to encourage such ridiculous drivel. Release this riffraff back to the streets where she belongs."
Frowning, Klaus addressed the man with an impatient wave of his hand. "Elijah, this is my precinct and I will conduct this investigation as I see fit."
Henrik's spirit suddenly flooded her mind, his terror making her heart race as she processed what he was trying to tell her. When she finally was coherent enough to speak, she leveled her icy gaze to Elijah and said, "All this time, I assumed it was Mikael. But it was you, wasn't it, Elijah?"
