Author's note: These one-shots were written for Klaroline AU Week 2019. Day One: Mythological Creatures and Day Two: Crossovers and Fusions. I hope you enjoy them and please let me know if any strike your fancy and you'd like to see more!


Day One: Mythological Creatures

Shrieky Clean

The familiar sizzle and hiss of the solvent normally would perk Caroline right up, but as she watched the toxic fumes rise from the wide, greasy stain where viscera had spilled on the concrete, her bad mood only got worse. Only a clueless hybrid asshat would think this was an appropriate form of flirting. When she arrived at the crime scene, she couldn't help but wonder if Klaus' volatile temper was the cause of the carnage, and when she saw the disgusting room, she knew for sure. He'd arranged the victim's intestines into the shape of a heart.

Caroline ran the foremost supernatural crime scene cleanup service in New Orleans, and had enjoyed a symbiotic (and lucrative) relationship with Marcel for decades. However, in the aftermath of the power struggle with the Originals, Marcel was a pariah and Klaus had declared himself king. While she'd assumed her business would be affected by the hostile takeover, she never would've predicted this.


One month ago

The high-pitched, bordering-on-terrified voice of a young vampire named Josh roused her fifteen minutes into her first decent nap after a grueling 12-hour shift. "The hybrid king requests your agency to sanitize Rousseau's on Esplanade Avenue."

"I'm booked until next Tuesday. Rougarou got loose and shredded through most of the residents in a two-block radius bordering Jackson Square."

"Klaus expects you there within the hour."

She let out a bark of laughter, not bothering to keep a civil tongue when she was this sleep-deprived. "And I expect Klaus to pull his head out of his ass and have some of his spineless minions do it instead. If this bullshit hybrid king can't properly delegate menial tasks, I suspect his reign will last about as long as a werewolf in a silver mine." With an irritated huff, she disconnected the call and quickly blocked the number, tossing her phone back on the nightstand as she settled more comfortably against her pillows.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when her doorbell woke her, refusing to glance at the clock as she irritably started shuffling toward the door. She fuzzily recalled her monthly delivery of hypothalami was set to arrive today, and suddenly there was a skip in her step as she eagerly opened her door. If her delivery had been late, all that was left in her fridge was ingredients for a pineal gland smoothie. She'd rather chow down on frontal lobes. Ick. She just didn't get fad diets.

Her excited grin turned into a grimace as she realized there was a hybrid asshat holding her delivery. "Mail theft carries a mandatory fine and a potential prison sentence of up to five years," she flatly told him, snatching the box from his hands. That he let her take from him. Stupid Original strength.

"You're Caroline Forbes," he asked, his gaze sliding up and down in a manner that she absolutely did not find appealing. Of course, if she did, it easily could be explained as misplaced hunger pains. Her kind weren't known for subtlety once hunger set in.

"Yes," she answered defensively. She refused to be embarrassed by her Pinky and the Brain pajamas and glared at him, daring him to say something when he was dressed like a figure skater who desperately wanted to be a biker but didn't have the street cred. Although, he was wearing the hell out of those skinny jeans.

"The Caroline Forbes whose company performs supernatural cleanup services; the one that Marcel won't stop blathering on about and insisted your continued employment be a cornerstone of our negotiations?"

Caroline was taken aback; Marcel hadn't mentioned what he'd done for her business before he'd retired to the old Algiers neighborhood to avoid further political fallout. She'd foolishly assumed that word-of-mouth had kept her business afloat since the regime change. She owed him a beer. Or possibly a bar.

Klaus seemed to take her silence as agreement, his eyebrow raised as he sputtered, "But the Caroline Forbes I'm speaking of is a zombie." Cocking his head, he frowned slightly, adding, "You can't possibly be a zombie, sweetheart."

"Seriously?!" She shrieked, "So, zombies are just decaying corpses who are mindless eating machines, right? Well, hybrid asshat, you and your ignorant prejudices can get the hell off my porch, and if you think for a minute I'd ever work for you, you've lost your goddamn mind!"

She stormed back into her house, slamming the box on the kitchen counter, and whirled around in shock when she realized Klaus had followed her. His gray eyes darkened, tone turning menacing as he told her, "I can count on one hand the number of times someone was foolish enough to raise their voice to me. I suggest you don't do it again, love."

As a scary supernatural creature, it had been ages since Caroline had been afraid, and she'd be damned if she'd let Klaus make her afraid in her own home. Organized to a fault, she knew the location of every item she owned. Especially her industrial-strength cleaning products. Typically, she used less-abrasive solvents for sanitation and disinfection of supernatural crime scenes — blood, brain matter and other tissues were surprisingly easy to remove when she used her specially formulated products.

However, sometimes crime scenes presented unique cleanup challenges and required halogenated solvents that were so toxic it was fortunate she no longer used her lungs for breathing because even with her biohazard suit, it felt like her bones were on fire. It was that spray bottle she reached for, inwardly hoping the nozzle wasn't clogged as she rapidly pulled the trigger and liberally sprayed down the furious Original until his skin began to blister and boil off of his face. Hissing and emitting guttural noises, he flashed out of her home, leaving her shaken but feeling immensely pleased that she'd managed to surprise the overconfident hybrid king.


After that, she'd enlisted the help of a friendly bokor to set up the right protection spells around her house, and thoroughly researched her jobs to ensure they weren't connected to any of Klaus' kills, but she knew sooner or later she'd have to face him.

And that's when life got weird. It started with little things at first — a client who tipped a little too generously, extra bookings that finally allowed her to hire more employees — and then flowers started appearing at the crime scenes. They were stunningly beautiful, rare Himalayan blue poppies that perfectly matched her eyes, presented in exquisitely cut crystal vases that were lovingly displayed so that she'd notice them the minute she crossed a threshold.

After that, rumors spread throughout the Quarter about how the hybrid king was wooing Caroline, the perky little zombie who helped their community keep their supernatural secrets from the humans. Apparently, he was enamored with the fearless blonde who'd been the first adversary in centuries to leave her mark. Literally — neighborhood gossips swore he had a wavy line near his temple where the brunt of her cleaning solvent had landed.

Caroline did her best to ignore these things, having no inclination to cater to the psychotic whims of the hybrid king. However, she couldn't deny that it was the first time someone had tried to woo her in such a unique manner. Plus, he apparently had started stalking her food deliveries and learned her snacking preferences and now she received triple shipments of hypothalami that were several grades above the cuts she used to order. The way to a zombie's heart was definitely through her stomach.

She was still glaring at the heart-shaped intestine stain when Klaus entered the warehouse. "If this is your A-game, I'm going to assume you normally just let your dimples do all the work," she told him with an angry huff, checking to ensure her trusty spray bottle of halogenated solvent was within reach just in case.

He chuckled lightly, absently running a finger across a thin scar at his temple. The scar she gave him. "You caught my fancy the moment your lovely, grumpy face greeted me on your doorstep. No one has left their mark upon me before." His expression turned almost shy as he confessed, "I'm a bit out of practice when it comes to courting practices, sweetheart, but I believe this is the moment when I ask you to dinner."

"You displayed your victim's viscera as a heart for me to find," she said, rolling her eyes at the hopeful hybrid. How was this her life?

He looked at her from under his lashes, his dimples on display as he offered, "I could spell out your name if you prefer."

"Fine, we can go to dinner. But I'm bringing my spray bottle."


Day two: Crossovers and Fusions. This story is a fusion with Revenge.

Best Served Bold

She patted the brawny, beautiful horseflesh, cooing gently as the magnificent Criollo neighed softly in reply. "You chose the perfect polo pony. Strong body with a broad chest and endurance to spare — I'm guessing around 15 hands?"

"Impressive, love. First art, then sailing, and now horses — is there anything you don't know," Klaus teased, favoring her with a dimpled smirk that definitely left Caroline a bit more flushed than she'd like.

The passwords and key codes to Mikaelson Global's internal systems. Her smile almost was genuine as she took in his lightly tousled curls and the enticing way his polo jersey stretched across his muscular chest, thinking that any girl would appreciate the sexy specimen before her. Unfortunately, Caroline wasn't any girl. Hell, she wasn't even Caroline.

Before she went underground, she'd been Lexi Forbes, only child of Bill Forbes, a gifted computer programmer at Mikaelson Global. She and her father had lived in a beach cottage in the Hamptons, just down the bluffs from the Mikaelsons' stately mansion. It had been a simple, wonderful life — what she could remember of it. She'd been eight when the police came for her father, dragging him from their home and out of her life forever.

The world knew her father as a terrorist who bombed a transatlantic flight. But she knew who the real terrorists were. Every move she'd made since coming back here was to prove her father's innocence and bring down Mikael and Esther for their crimes.

Her first step had been to carefully orchestrate several chance meetings with their newly single son. It had been laughably easy to catch his eye, already aware of his secret desire to leave the family business and become an artist. Her own background in art history had paved the way for flirtatious conversations that she knew had a bit more depth than his typical socialite flatterer could attempt. Smug? Of course. But she was on a mission, and refused to fail her father.

"Well, I haven't guessed where you're taking me tonight," she coyly replied, straightening his collar and shivering a bit as she took in the seductive fire in his gray eyes. He's getting to you. What are you going to do about it?

Klaus leaned forward, placing the softest of kisses to her lips before pulling back to lightly tap her nose. "I know you aren't a fan of surprises, sweetheart, but indulge me, just this once."

"Fine," she pouted with a small grin, unable to stop herself from watching the sensual lines of his snug riding breeches as he mounted his horse.


The match was underway by the time she'd made her way to the billowing white silk of the VIP tents. Mikael and Esther were holding court as usual, with desperate sycophants frequently stopping by to fawn over them. She took advantage of Mikael stepping away to take a phone call, keeping him in her line of sight as she engaged Marcel Gerard in teasing banter. An eager young senator, Gerard was said to be above reproach. Give him time, she thought derisively, her sources keeping her apprised of how Mikael and his cronies had been sniffing around Gerard's campaign offices.

Caroline subtly wrapped up their conversation just as Mikael strolled by, skillfully moving into his path and flashing him her warmest smile. "I was hoping I'd run into you, Mr. Mikaelson."

"A desire that I'm all too happy to indulge, sweet Caroline," he purred, not bothering to hide his lecherous stare.

Must resist the urge to puncture his throat with my diamond statement ring. "Klaus and I were discussing my portfolio and he suggested that I consider coming onboard with your advisor. I know he's quite exclusive, but would you be willing to part with his contact information?" Disgusting old man, I'm seeing your son, remember? She pointedly glanced across the field where Klaus rode past them, making sure to let her gaze linger appreciatively.

"Anything for the woman who's brought about such a positive change in my wayward son's behavior," Mikael heartily told her, unexpectedly pulling her in for a hug that was awkwardly clingy. She ignored her gag reflex that wanted to kick in at the smell of his overdone cedar and orange cologne and deftly slipped the bug inside his phone case. Now she would be privy to every communication he received, not to mention his every movement. Finally, her face broke into something that felt like genuine happiness. One step closer.

"You certainly seem adept at capturing the attention of Mikaelson men," Esther's cunning voice sliced the air just as Caroline stepped out of Mikael's embrace.

There was no denying that the matriarch was a stunning woman, whose stylish clothing accented an enviable figure. But it was the hardness in her blue eyes that kept her from being truly beautiful. There was no vulnerability or humanity to be had in her demeanor, and people wisely chose to flatter and scamper off lest they find themselves going to battle with a formidable, vicious harpy.

But Caroline had been to hell and back and refused to cower before this heartless shrew. "Your family has been quite accommodating. It's lovely to feel so wanted."

"Yes, for now. What a pity that Niklaus' interest only can be held for so long. That pesky artistic temperament..." Esther trailed off with faux sympathy.

Caroline was indescribably pleased when Klaus suddenly paused mid-play to give her a friendly wave, one that she returned all too gladly while his mother fumed beside her. She thought of all the plans she had for Klaus and then turned to Esther, her smile nothing but sweetness and light as she vindictively asked, "Want to bet?"