Author's note: This was written for kiaraalexisklay who asked for some KC fluff. I originally posted it on tumblr, but then got inspired and added more to it to post on here. Enjoy!


"First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you."
― F. Scott Fitzgerald


Her mouth felt like she ate cat litter and washed it down with gasoline. Caroline blearily raised her head off of an unfamiliar tile floor, squinting at the harsh rays of sunlight cheerfully filtering into what seemed to be a bathroom the size of her gallery. A buzzing noise rattled around in her hungover brain like a chainsaw and she managed to pull her phone out of her purse without the room spinning, so she considered it a victory.

A series of texts from Kat came through, each more vulgar than the last — which was really saying something considering it was Kat. But what actually caught her attention was Kat's question in all caps followed by a series of emojis that seemed nonsensical but nonetheless struck her as weirdly erotic: "DID YOU EVER FIND YOUR PANTS?" She glanced down, realizing she seemed to be wearing a fluffy white towel with a man's wrinkled dress shirt tied around her waist. What in the holy fuck?

Suddenly, an amused, accented voice broke her concentration as he teased, "Ah, my kidnapper awakens."

Caroline shrieked, her phone clattering to the gleaming floor. "Who the hell are you? Where am I?"

"Easy love," he said with a dimpled smirk, handing her a tall to-go cup from her favorite local cafe. "You were quite particular about your coffee order before you passed out last night. Orange spice latte with a hint of hazelnut." He watched her inhale the delicious aroma, his tone teasing as though enjoying a private joke as he added, "Your friend Bonnie made it herself."

She'd told him about Bonnie's cafe? She caught the edge of Bonnie's familiar sloped handwriting on the side of her cup and turned it slightly to read, "Sir Dimples McHotness —nicely done, Care!" Blue eyes widened as she realized there's no way he missed her friend's note.

"Um," she began, taking a quick sip of her coffee to buy herself some time to think. She had no idea who the hot British guy was, but clearly he happened at some point between the copious wine tasting at her gallery opening and Kat's insistence she join her and Bonnie for Sex on the Beach Saturday at the rooftop tiki bar downtown.

Seemingly taking pity on her bewildered, hungover state, he said gently, "You impressed me by your capacity to plan even in your hazy state last night. You should check your photos and texts."

Raising an eyebrow, she quickly swiped to see numerous photos of Klaus and another attractive stranger with a mischievous smile posing in various photos with her and her friends. It also appeared that she'd texted a driver's license to Kat and Bonnie. "You're Klaus Mikaelson," she awkwardly began, quickly closing out of her texts when she saw she'd sent some rather raunchy details about what she intended to do to him once she got him home.

"So, I'm Caroline..." she trailed off, feeling her face redden in embarrassment as some of last night's details returned to her. She'd sprinkled his bare chest with salt in the shape of her initials and then licked it off. And she was pretty sure he'd done tequila shots out of her bra.

Squinting again as another memory came to her that was far too ridiculous to be real, she said weakly, "Did you mention something about a kidnapping?"

Klaus held out his hand to help steady her as she rose to her feet, his smile teasing but also curiously gentle. "Yes. That. You may have attempted to kidnap me last night."

"I...what?"

"It wasn't a big deal; I believe you held a tampon under my chin and demanded that we return to my place. I was a bit smashed, but also quite flattered." At her look of horror, his dimples deepened into what seemed to be a signature smirk as he said, "Perhaps I could answer your questions over a proper breakfast, sweetheart? And if you're willing, we could discuss some of those rather intriguing plans you whispered in my ear during last night's cab ride."

Caroline nodded, blushing as she tugged at the towel-and wrinkled dress shirt she was wearing. "Um, do you happen to know where my clothes are?"

He ducked his head almost shyly, running his fingers through dirty blonde curls as he vaguely pointed down the hall where she could hear a dryer going. "Well, your shirt suffered a slight mishap somewhere between the tequila shots and our third attempt to make a snack, so I put it in with the rest of my wash."

Fuck. That was her super-delicate, very expensive draped-silk halter that currently was tumbling in his dryer. Something must have shown on her face before she could hide it, because Klaus quickly said, "Was that ok? I'm afraid I don't have much experience with laundry."

"It's ok." She gestured weakly toward the stuffing that spilled out of a throw pillow on his couch, spying one of her stilettos wedged between the velvet cushions. "Pretty sure I did more damage to your stuff." She was charmed by the way he helped her to one of the raised chairs in the kitchen, surprised to see an impressive array of bagels, muffins and doughnuts on his table along with a bowl full of berries and a platter of bacon.

Klaus seemed embarrassed as he mumbled, "I wasn't sure what you'd want, so I asked Bonnie to give me one of everything you'd ever ordered from her cafe."

"Seriously? That's um, wow. I bet you do this for all the girls who climb in your lap and rip your belt off with their teeth." Her cheeks reddened as bits and pieces of last night came back to her, but she secretly was pleased that she recalled the way Klaus' jaw had flopped open at the sight of her successfully removing his belt using her mouth alone. Her college self would've been so proud — she'd never managed to pull off that maneuver before and once caused an accidental black eye for her date and a chipped tooth for her.

"I must admit that was a first for me." He studied her from beneath his lashes, his tone flirty as he added, "And I hope it won't be the last — if you're interested."

She enjoyed the hopeful look on his face, a pleasant warmth spreading to her belly as she realized she hadn't scared him off. "I'm definitely interested — but for another time when we aren't coming off of an epic hangover and I can remember where I left my pants."

His gray eyes sparkled with mischief as he topped off his orange juice. "I actually might know a bit about that. Do you recall singing 'American Pie' with your friends last night?"

She frowned, sifting through her fuzzy memories. "That's weird — when did they turn that tiki bar into a karaoke bar?"

"They didn't."

Well, fuck. Caroline sifted through her fuzzy memories and what she learned from Kat's jumbled texts. "Bonnie spilled her drink on me because she decided the chorus needed an interpretative dance sequence. When I was in the bathroom trying to clean off my pants, there was a crying drunk girl who convinced me that the best way to clean my pants was to take them off."

Klaus burst out laughing. "That line actually worked?"

"I'll have you know there's an unbroken bond of sisterhood among drunk girls in a bathroom," Caroline huffed indignantly. "We share each other's little hurts and triumphs and in those blissful few moments we stand together in front of some water-splattered mirror under horrendous florescent lights, we know we're the same."

He raised an eyebrow, voice amused as he replied, "It's not quite the same in the men's loo. At least, not the ones I frequent."

She grimaced a bit as she recalled the way the poor girl wiped off thick clumps of mascara running down her chin and then accidentally smeared her hand all over the charmeuse copped pants Caroline had bought with her first gallery commission. "Her name was Dava or Dina, I think, and her ex had showed up at the bar and was hanging all over some girl."

She shrugged, adding, "I've dated fuckboys before, so I sympathized. We bitched and whined and I reassured her that there were quality guys out there and not to give up." She squinted a bit as her head pounded in her skull. "That's the last time I think I saw my pants." She really should be done with this college-style fuckery. At the very least, hangovers seem to pack a bigger punch once you've graduated.

"And this is where I should apologize," Klaus began uncomfortably.

"For what?"

"My brother," Klaus said with a sigh of aggravation. "It seems the girl you met once dated Kol and inadvertently saw some of the photos on your phone that you took of Bonnie and Kol. She snatched away your pants and raced out into the bar waving them wildly in the air." He added sheepishly, "We were quite taken aback; I've seen enraged women brandish all manner of objects at my dimwitted brother, but never pants. Had I known they were yours, love, I certainly wouldn't have allowed her to abscond with them when she made her dramatic exit."

Caroline burst into laughter at the ridiculous image he invoked with his words, recalling how she'd given up looking for her pants and had strut out of there wearing only her silk halter, the hem swinging a breezy few inches higher than she would've preferred. At least her legs looked amazing and Klaus' smoldering gaze perused them repeatedly throughout the rest of the night. "I think you more than made up for it," she quipped, tugging at the towel and his shirt she still wore.

When her phone impatiently buzzed, she groaned, telling him regretfully, "Unfortunately my incompetent assistant has scheduled me to meet with a new client this morning. And his manager who's this stuffed suit with a weird biblical name." She started to get up, noticing that Klaus had an odd look on his face.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, he asked, "You're the owner of the Expressions Gallery?" At her slow nod of understanding, he smirked. "Then it seems our meeting started earlier than we anticipated."