Author's note: It never occurred to Klaus that a human would find a link between murders that span more than a century. But then he meets a feisty cold case investigator who might be too smart for her own good. And if she happens to mistake him as a coworker, well, there's no harm in playing along...
"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles
A tape measure had no business looking that formidable. Or oddly appealing. And yet, the longer Klaus watched Caroline Forbes carefully recording measurements from the torn chunks of flesh scattered about the floor, the more intrigued he became. A millennium among the humans had taught the hybrid caution — to practice discretion if leaving behind corpses — and he maintained a watchful eye to avoid unnecessary exposure. Inviting Stefan Salvatore along on his search for werewolves in his emotionless, 'ripper' state had been impulsive. And possibly a grave error in judgement, if this cold case investigator was as clever as her reputation claimed.
As his traveling companion reverted to his previous ripper ways, Klaus had left behind a pet hybrid to ensure the supernatural aspects of the murders remained hidden. If Tyler's reports were accurate, Caroline had built an impressive reputation as a cold case investigator, solving decades-old crimes with little more to guide her than a few bloody fingerprints and intuition. While this information alone wasn't cause for alarm, he'd learned that among her impressive achievements was a well-received master's thesis on the 1912 Ripper of Monterey. Considering Stefan was the Ripper of Monterey, and now the authorities had purposely enlisted Caroline's expertise with the latest string of murders, Klaus wanted to ensure that she reached the proper conclusion that a copycat killer was to blame, rather than a melodramatic vampire with amusing blood addiction issues.
"Well? What are you waiting for," Caroline's voice startled him from his thoughts, and much to his chagrin, he realized she'd caught him staring at her a bit longer than polite.
Straightening, Klaus flashed her a disarming smile. "Pardon, sweetheart?"
Her tape measure loudly snapped shut in irritation. "The samples?!"
His questioning brow seemed to further aggravate her. Blue eyes flashing, she snarled, "Seriously?! You're supposed to be transporting forensic samples — you're the new dispatch driver, right?"
What a curious little firebrand. He couldn't recall the last time anyone, much less a mortal, had spoken to him with such disregard. A slow, curling smile touched his lips as he nodded politely. "Of course, love. Please, call me Klaus."
"Caroline," she replied stiffly, jerking her chin toward several plastic cases nearby as she added, "Do I need to remind you about basic protocols like crime scene integrity and chain of custody like your useless predecessor?"
She must be referring to his pet hybrid. Now what could Tyler have done to incur her wrath? Tyler dutifully had obeyed his sire, providing regular reports regarding his interactions with the investigator and any progress she'd made that might expose the supernatural community. But clearly he'd left out a few pertinent details. "Actually, I'm quite well-versed in procedures, love. However, if you're going to treat me to a proper lecture, you might also wish to delight me with a thorough review of the dangers of forensic contamination during transport."
The rosy blush that came to her cheeks was immensely satisfying, and he fully intended to commit that image to his sketchpad when he had a moment. What a lovely muse she'd make. She sighed, carefully maneuvering around the blood pools and mangled corpses to stand before him. "That was completely uncalled for. I apologize, Klaus. I'm sure you're quite capable, and just because Tyler had no idea how to fill out a basic Chain of Custody form despite my repeated attempts to explain it to him doesn't mean you have that problem."
She rolled her eyes, wryly adding, "Of course, if he'd spent less time creepily staring down my shirt during those lessons, he might've come away with a clearer understanding of basic form completion."
Klaus felt a flare of anger at that, the idea of his dimwitted hybrid behaving improperly toward her making his fangs itch to tear into something and leave it bloody. Caroline was far too clever to fall for such crude tactics. She deserved to be courted properly. Startled by that unexpected thought, he said, "I certainly hope he was reprimanded for his improper behavior. If not, it would be my pleasure to handle the matter if you prefer."
Caroline seemed surprised by his reaction, but shrugged it off. "I appreciate the gesture, but I can take care of myself. Besides, I don't want to pull focus from my research — especially with these latest findings."
He delighted in the way her blue eyes lit up with excitement, her beautiful smile utterly charming. Using his enhanced vision, he spied complex notations on her laptop across the room, and asked, "I noticed you were taking quite a few measurements of the victims' wounds. Is that related to your research?"
The way she bit her lip made his wolf restless, and he found himself most interested in soothing it with his tongue. As she grabbed his hand to eagerly pull him toward her data, he marveled at how the warmth from her touch somehow felt like home. Needing a distraction, he gestured toward the complex equations, surprised that most of it was unfamiliar. Say something intelligent. "That's a derivation of the formula for pressure?"
"That's right," she nodded excitedly. It was bloody ridiculous the way her beaming smile warmed him from the inside out, and he fought to keep his own grin from looking as foolish as he felt. He watched as she scrolled through several data sheets, finally stopping at a detailed graph to explain, "I modified the equation to assess the pressure of puncture wounds and measure the exact force the killer uses when he rips apart his victims. By measuring the units of pressure associated with each corpse's wounds, I've figured out the killer's signature force of pressure. This can get us one step closer to identification!" She whispered conspiratorially, "I've even found similar patterns with the famous Ripper of Monterey — looks like we have a copycat."
Eyes widening at her revelation, he tried to determine the best response that wouldn't arouse her suspicion. Perhaps focus on her methodology? While he'd accumulated a fundamental understanding of higher mathematics over the centuries, what Caroline had created was beyond him. What an impressive little human. "Pascal would be proud," he told her, "when he wasn't inventing the formula for pressure, he spent his time creating terminology for geometric principles."
Under her curious gaze, he found himself blathering on like a green lad attending his first harvest dance. "He was a bit of a hermit, what with his father being an unrepentant drunkard and his mother plagued with headaches that modern medicine would diagnose as severe migraines, but unfortunately the quack physicians of the time proclaimed she was plagued by demons."
She arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing as she remarked, "You sound as though you were there. Do you know what happened to Pascal and his mother?"
"I...um read that a dashing stranger introduced Pascal to Kepler and other like-minded philosophers who helped them secure passage before the local priests decided her 'demons' were an affront to their god."
Caroline snapped on a pair of gloves, opening a set of empty specimen jars that she placed near one of the headless bodies. As she used an eyedropper to painstakingly collect blood samples, she chuckled, "You know, if forensics doesn't work out, maybe you should write a book. You have a gift for storytelling, Klaus." Tossing back her blonde hair impatiently, she gestured toward the remaining jars, adding, "These samples aren't going to collect themselves, though. If you're going to stand there, you might as well be useful...unless you're squeamish?"
Klaus let out a bark of laughter, amused by her unwitting cheekiness. "No, sweetheart. While I've been accused of many things over the years, squeamishness has never been one of them." He tried to ignore the funny tweak his heart gave at her earlier praise. A gift for storytelling. Oh, the stories he wished he could tell her, he thought wistfully. While it seemed she was warming up to Klaus, the dispatch driver, he assumed that Klaus, the immortal hybrid mass murderer would put a damper on the mood.
As he dutifully gathered the blood smear samples, the utter nonsense of the situation was not lost on him as he pretended to be this bumbling human for the sake of...what, exactly? Appearances? Monitoring the little blonde spitfire who was too clever for her own good? He could foolishly tell himself he lingered at the crime scene to protect the supernatural from discovery, but a wry voice in his ear kept whispering that his current actions were completely unnecessary — all it would take is some carefully worded compulsion and exerting a tighter leash on his ripper to keep the supernatural world's secrets.
He watched her with a fond smile on his face as she carefully labeled each jar and input more data into her laptop, her nose wrinkled adorably as she seemed deep in thought. "Did you always have such passion? For forensic sciences, I mean," he blurted out unexpectedly, cringing at how absurd he sounded. She must think him quite daft.
Caroline looked up in surprise, seemingly assessing the gory crime scene before she shrugged, "I know this is the part where I'm supposed to regale you with some tragic hero revenge fantasy where I've lost a loved one to a horrific crime which put me on the path to catching murderers, but honestly, it's about the puzzles for me."
"Puzzles?"
Her brow wrinkled as she hastily explained, "Don't get me wrong — I feel for the victims and the pain they went through and of course I want to find whoever's responsible, but also, I really enjoy the challenge of putting together random events and evidence to fit a theory until all of the pieces of the puzzle are in place and we catch the murderer."
"You're a perfectionist. I do so admire a meticulous creature," Klaus murmured, earning a faint blush upon her cheeks once more.
She shuffled her feet awkwardly, opening and closing her mouth as though rethinking her words. It was the first time he'd seen her appear as anything other than confident, and he was curious to learn what had her looking so uncomfortable. "So, this is going to be a pretty late night for me, but when you stop back by for the next set of evidence to transport, maybe we could go grab some coffee?"
Such a simple question shouldn't have earned this type of a response from him, but Klaus found himself unable to stop grinning like a lunatic. Caroline had asked him out. While he understood that modern courting rituals placed less importance on a coffee date, it did carry the weighty implication that if all went well, a dinner date could follow. Perhaps many dates.
"It would be my pleasure, Caroline," he answered, purposely deepening his accent as he rolled her name across his tongue, pleased to see the way her blue eyes darkened a bit, a hint of anticipation lingering in the air.
Wanting to keep up the charade, Klaus carried out the stack of evidence containers, casually compelling one of the officers outside to take them to the proper station for cataloging. Initially, he'd intended to catch up with Stefan in the next town once he'd assessed Caroline's competence and potential threat to exposing the supernatural community, but now his plans had changed. An emotionless ripper would think nothing of him delaying his stay, but he'd now need to determine exactly what layers of compulsion he'd need to give Stefan. Not only would Stefan need to be more discreet with his appetites, he'd also need to keep him far away from Caroline. His Caroline.
After checking in with his hybrids, he returned to the crime scene, carrying two cups of coffee from a local shop that was a favorite of his. There was an eagerness to his step as he anticipated the way her lips would twitch into a teasing smile at his gesture, and he was so caught up in his daydream of their flirtatious banter that he didn't notice the distinct lack of police officers patrolling the perimeter until after he heard Stefan's voice inside the house.
"Your reputation precedes you, Detective Forbes. You should be flattered — I normally don't bother with cleanup," Stefan silkily told her, the predator in his dark eyes coming out to play.
Caroline's tone was suspicious as she stood before him, seemingly not the least bit intimidated as she said, "Mostly I'm confused — who the hell are you and what makes you think you can stomp all over my crime scene?!"
"Because it's my crime scene, and I believe you've been tracking my crimes for some time now. Even longer than you'd ever believe." Stefan smoothly answered, taking a menacing step toward her.
As Klaus watched the scene unfold, his hands clenched into fists, shredding the coffee cups he'd been holding. He hadn't anticipated Stefan taking an interest in Caroline, and while he was certain she was quite capable in dangerous situations, she'd never encountered the supernatural element before. Stefan was there to kill her.
He flashed inside, just as Caroline drew her sidearm on the ripper, proclaiming, "I was close to catching you. My data already told me you were of average height and build." Scoffing slightly, she added contemptuously, "And I do mean average. I don't know what you thought you'd accomplish by coming here tonight, but it's over."
Stefan glanced over at Klaus as he mockingly raised his hands in the air, pretending to cower in fear. "So authoritative, Detective Forbes. I certainly hope you'll use excessive force on me. You see, I crave a bit of brutality in my police."
Klaus edged closer to Caroline, realizing that Stefan was moments away from attacking her. He was in a quandary — while he intended to keep her safe by any means necessary, he also preferred to continue his charade of human dispatch driver. Because he liked the way Caroline looked at him. Like he wasn't a monster. The idea of compelling away her memories of anything supernatural she might witness was distasteful to him.
"It's going to be ok, Klaus," she told him in a calm voice, "just stay where you are."
His heart gave that odd tweak again at the combative stance Caroline took, angling her body to shield him. It had been centuries since someone had attempted to protect him. But it was Caroline who needed protecting — she just didn't realize it. Unfortunately, before he reached a decision on how to handle the situation, a snarling Stefan advanced on Caroline. He couldn't help but admire her quick reflexes as she shot him in the leg, just below the knee. The flash of relief on her face was short-lived — no doubt, she'd expected the bullet to wound Stefan enough to make him reconsider attacking her. But she didn't know that Stefan wasn't human.
Stefan leapt at her, his teeth a touch too sharp to be completely human. Klaus felt his claws lengthening, and just as he moved to tear open Stefan's throat, Caroline expertly shot the ripper in the forehead. As he collapsed with a satisfying thud, Caroline quickly pulled Klaus away, running her hands along his chest and arms as though checking him for injuries. He had the presence of mind to retract his monster, claws shrinking back into human nails. He slowly exhaled, allowed himself to curl into the warmth of her touch, his wolf purring as it sensed her concern.
"I'm alright, sweetheart, thanks to you," he told her, gently reaching out to tuck a wayward blonde strand behind her ear. She surprised him with the way her arms suddenly enveloped him into a hug, her body shaking slightly.
Giving him a final squeeze, she straightened, her voice a bit hoarse as she told him, "I had to. He was going to hurt us. He wasn't going to stop."
He readily agreed. "You're right about that. Creatures like that don't change. You did what you must."
Favoring him with a small smile, Caroline stepped outside to wait for the dispatch unit she'd called.
Klaus studied Stefan dispassionately, knowing the bullet in his skull eventually would push its way out, and then the ripper would visit all manner of horrific torture upon Caroline for trying to stop him.
He knelt on the blood-stained floor beside Stefan, casually snapping off a jagged piece from a baseboard. As he positioned the splintered end over the ripper's heart, he smirked.
Caroline had protected him; the least he could do was return the favor.
