Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 kcvalentinesbingo

Prompt: Blood-covered roses

"The entire compound is on lockdown. Jackson Square is a smoking crater from the witches' retaliation. The rogue bayou wolves swore a blood vengeance on me and mine AND thanks to their alliance with the witches, are now impervious to staking," Klaus seethed at Tyler, his hybrid lieutenant. "And yet, despite these dangers, you and the rest of my idiot hybrids foolishly chose to take Caroline on a leisurely stroll down the block to purchase sugar?!"

"It was dark brown sugar," Tyler mumbled, digging the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. "Caroline swears it's the key ingredient to her praline bread pudding. And we all really like it..." he trailed off awkwardly.

Caroline's penchant for baking treats for her hybrid security somehow made the rounds in certain supernatural circles — to the point that there was fierce infighting among his hybrid army for the privilege of being assigned to her protective detail. Klaus finally had to establish an elaborate lottery system to keep the petty arguments to a minimum. "Not at the expense of Caroline's bloody safety!" The stabbing pain in his fist made him realize he'd been clutching the roses for his love too tightly, an overlooked thorn causing his blood to stain the roses. Blood-covered roses — the gift may appeal to her even more now — over the centuries, she'd become quite the bloodthirsty little minx.

"Klaus! Let Tyler back in the house; I need a second opinion on this bourbon sauce!"

Bollocks. Was she using his Bruichladdich rare cask series? He hastily followed Tyler into the kitchen, dropping an affectionate kiss on Caroline's blonde curls as she spooned a portion of the sauce into a dipping bowl.

Caroline emitted an endearing little squeal as she lovingly cradled the bouquet of now-blood-covered roses. She gave him a sunny smile that always did funny things to his chest, lightly smacking away his hand when he tried to grab one of the enormous maple-bacon cinnamon rolls. "Nope. Those are for Hayley." She slid the plate over to Klaus' least-favorite hybrid, who simpered and cooed as she artlessly snatched one. "It's for all of the extra effort she's been putting into keeping me safe lately," Caroline added with a gentle smile.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't comment, enjoying the easy, graceful way Caroline flitted about the kitchen. She was happy in their home. The one they made together.

"Nu-uh, Tyler. I meant it when I said those are for Hayley," Caroline chided, catching his lieutenant reaching for one of the cinnamon rolls.

"These are delicious, Caroline," Hayley commented as she took a sloppy bite of the gooey dessert. "Some of your best work yet."

Caroline and Klaus' pleased grins mirrored each other as they watched Hayley take another bite. When she suddenly choked, eyes watering, Caroline's tone grew mocking as she asked, "What's the matter? Too much cayenne?"

Tyler stood up in concern, ready to help his fellow hybrid until Klaus gave him a small headshake, the sire bond firmly in place as he understood there was something more going on. Hayley clutched at her throat, collapsing to the floor as she began to gray and desiccate.

Caroline stood over her body, still holding Klaus' hand as she coldly said, "Or, perhaps it's the vervain and wolfsbane I added after I found out you've betrayed us by working with the witches?"

Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 kcvalentinesbingo


Prompt: "I serve Baimei Shen, thanks."

She was going to kill Katherine. Ever since Katherine had quit a week ago, Caroline had been expected to cover all of her shifts. Her back and feet were killing her and if that dimpled asshat sent back his shrimp scampi one more time, it was ending up on top of those curls that were way too perfectly tousled to be natural. "Sorry love, but true shrimp scampi must have fresh capellini. Surely you want it to be authentic?"

"You're eating at Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. The only thing authentic here is the eventual heart disease and diabetes," she flatly told him, refusing to find his teasing smirk charming. Why would someone like him even eat here? From the accent and the expensive clothes, it was obvious he was far too pretentious to eat at this tourist trap. And certainly not every day this week.

She stormed off to the kitchen, not bothering to tell the staff to remake his order yet again. What kind of stupid name was Klaus anyway? It was probably short for something even more pretentious-sounding followed by some Roman numerals. Letting out a groan, she went out the back to pout in the tiny rock garden that had a nice view of the Gulf. It was the only reason why she endured the drunk tourists and often meager tips. If only her other job paid better. But she couldn't think about that right now. Especially since Katherine had given her so many new things to think about.

The Florida sun warmed the rock she sat on, and she did her best not to inhale the smell of stale fried food that signaled the kitchen staff hadn't cleaned out the grease traps for the fifth day in a row. She scooped up a handful of polished white gravel and crushed shells, tossing them into the waves.

"From the lack of bustling activity, may I assume my entree has been indefinitely delayed, sweetheart?"

Caroline immediately stiffened at his voice. Despite the same friendly, flirty tone he'd shown her the whole week, there was an underlying threat that hadn't been there before. But she wasn't afraid. Katherine had prepared her. "The kitchen staff is putting as much effort into your meal as you'll spend eating it," she told him sweetly.

He suddenly flashed to the rock where she sat, his display of the supernatural startling her despite Katherine's impressive show and tell before she left. His tone was low and dangerous as he asked, "Do you think me a fool? That I wouldn't recognize a devoted follower of The Travelers?"

"I serve Baimei Shen, thanks."

Only the slightest twitch of his eyebrow showed his surprise. "The god of prostitution?"

Caroline hated this part. Either pity or revulsion or blatant lust would appear in his expression, and he'd make assumptions about who she was. As though anyone could ever really know her. Maybe that's why she and Katherine had gotten along so well — everyone already had made up their minds about who they were.

"Quite the bloodthirsty faith you have," Klaus observed. "Tell me, do you perform the sacrifices or do you leave that to your pimp?"

Her gaze was fierce as she replied icily, "I sacrificed my pimp." Along with his protection. Growing tired of this nonsense, she told him, "Let's cut through the bullshit, you judgmental asshat. Katherine started working here about a month ago and took off last week. She said she stole something from you and you'd be along to threaten me."

When he crouched to meet her at eye-level, she could've sworn she saw a glimmer of respect in his gaze. "Impressive. What else did Katherine tell you, sweetheart?"

"Just enough about you and your fucked-up world domination schemes to know I don't want any part of it." She pulled out her phone and started a text message, telling him, "I'm supposed to tell her once you dropped the human charade."

"Excellent. Kindly tell Katherine to bring me Silas' tombstone and I will limit her torture and eventual death to mere years rather than centuries."

Caroline wrinkled her nose as she typed out the message to Katherine. "Didn't think grave robbing was one of Katherine's kinks."

He stood up with a chuckle. "It's fortunate you don't know where the tombstone is. I'd hate to mar all of the lovely memories we've shared this week with...unpleasantness." With a final brush of his lips across her knuckles, he turned to leave, the flirtatious tone returning as he added, "And perhaps you could suggest to your chef to try adding a crisp chardonnay to the butter sauce for my lunch tomorrow."

Asshat. She did her best to ignore how fantastic his ass looked as he walked away. She did not have time for his particular brand of crazy. With a sigh, she returned to the kitchen, purposely brushing past a chipped rock with several deep cracks. Katherine was right — putting Silas' tombstone in the rock garden was the perfect hiding place.