Author's note: This was created for the Klaroline Fall Bingo Event.

Prompt: "You are the treat, sweetheart."


It wasn't the worst heartbreak story Caroline had heard. But it definitely was the worst this season. The angry murder swans were an interesting plot twist though. She wiped down the bar, eyeing the clock before she announced, "Last call, everybody!"

She turned to the adorable drunk resting his head on the wet rings the bottles and glasses had left behind. Klaus had spent the evening raking his fingers through his dirty blonde curls, double-fisting shots and Ward Eights when he wasn't berating his ex-fiancé. "So, your ex, this...um...something that sounded like 'tater tot', walked down the aisle, stood at the altar with you in front of a church stuffed full of your friends and family, and announced that she's been banging your brother for months and wants to marry him instead."

He squinted up at her, as though slowing piecing together her words. Letting out an unexpectedly boisterous guffaw, he said, "It was Tatia, actually. But tater tot is considerably more appropriate — often greasy, grows disappointingly cold, and an unpleasant aftertaste." Fishing around in one pocket, he flashed her a devilish smirk that she would've found charming if it wasn't for the bit of drool as he slurred his words, "Elijah's welcome to her, but he'll have to make it official without our grandmother's ring." He triumphantly slammed a beautiful antique ring on her bar, the neon lights making the diamonds and pearls twinkle.

Caroline let out a small gasp as she studied the delicate floral pattern the gemstones made. For some reason, she felt ridiculously pleased that Tatia didn't get her grubby cheater's hands on such a lovely piece of jewelry. "I know I shouldn't ask, but morbid curiosity is winning right now. Did your other brother release the angry murder swans as a distraction just so you could steal back the ring?"

"A happy accident, love. Kol thrives on chaos and he nipped out to the reception area to let them out of the paddock just to see what would happen. I took advantage of the riot that ensued once the swans started attacking the outlandish lace train of Tatia's dress and swiped the ring." His smile was more of a grimace, but at least he chuckled as he said, "I escaped before I saw the worst of it, but I've been told that by the time the swans were under control, Tatia was wearing shredded bits of overpriced lace and feathers, and both she and Elijah were smeared in droppings."

Giggling, Caroline squeezed another half-lemon into the shaker, adding the grenadine and topping it off with orange juice before pouring it over what was left of the rye whisky in Klaus' glass. She tossed in a few cherries and winked as she told him, "My treat."

He threw her what should've been a smoldering look, but instead his gray eyes seemed to cross slightly as he slurred, "You are the treat, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to his clumsy flirting. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, she couldn't help the way her pulse quickened. If he had this kind of effect on her now, what was he like sober? Nope, she sternly reminded herself; he's on the gut-wrenching rebound to end all rebounds and you stopped doing one-night stands after Mr. Hair Gel seemed waaaay more into his brother and you snuck out the bathroom window once it got too squicky.

She kept busy closing out a few more tabs, feeling the need to steamroll past the awkward silence as she cheerfully said, "So, you just hopped on a plane and decided to go on your honeymoon anyway. That's a level of petty I can support. Mystic Shores is a tiny resort town, but you should find plenty to keep yourself busy. There's the lighthouse, natural rock bridges, seabird sanctuary..." she trailed off when she saw how his eyes had glazed over. "Plus, lots of white sand beaches you can day drink on while watching the dolphins."

"I knew I picked this place for a reason." Klaus gulped down the rest of his drink, grimacing as he told her, "Remind me to teach you how to make a proper Ward Eight, love. It's positively criminal the rubbish rye you're peddling."

She grabbed his empty glass, putting it in the tub under the bar. Snorting, she replied, "Yeah, yeah, just add it to the rest of your complaints about my drinks. Not that it stopped you from slamming them back as fast as I poured them."

Klaus smirked, rising unsteadily to his feet. "A bartender should understand proper citrus techniques. Zesting citrus in advance may save time, but it dries out the fragrance and flavor you'd otherwise infuse into your drinks."

Normally, having her bartending skills drunkenly criticized would have Caroline covertly charging an 'asshat tax' when she closed out the tab, but there was something about Klaus that made her more amused than angry. She'd stealthily admired his cheekbones most of the evening, and when he occasionally stretched, the muscle definition was undeniable. He wore his classic good looks with casual indifference, but a curious melancholy hung over him despite his snarky wit. There was more than just heartbreak below his surface, and she was curious to know more. Nope. Don't get involved. It's not your job to fix broken people.

As he continued to hopelessly fumble with his wallet, she gently pressed her palm to his forearm and said, "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

It was the first genuine smile he'd given all night, and he lurched forward, placing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. "You radiate light and beauty. I should've known you were are an angel, Caroline." He stumbled out of the bar before she could speak, cheeks flushed at the way his accented voice lovingly caressed her name.

Caroline busied herself closing up the bar, barely resisting the urge to glance out the front to see if Klaus had managed to operate his ride app correctly. Not your problem. She waved off a few of the locals who invited her to the dunes to watch the sea turtle nests. They'd be hatching soon, but a bubble bath and some bad reality TV sounded much more appealing at the moment.

Lost in her thoughts, she nearly stumbled over Klaus as she took the trash to the dumpster. With a gasp, she knelt beside him, realizing he was snoring loudly and his pockets were turned inside out.

Damn it, Enzo.

"Come on, Klaus, wake up," she hissed, lightly smacking his cheek.

With a groan of protest, Klaus managed to sit up against the dirty brick wall, mumbling, "Bloody wanker came at me, but I gave him a right show with this," he cursed, triumphantly waving around a fist.

She helped him up, muttering under her breath, "Nice work. Although it looks like he still snagged your wallet and ring." At his crestfallen expression, she hurriedly reassured him, "But don't worry! I'll give Enzo a call and we'll fix it, I promise."


When she heard the loud thump followed by an impressive string of cursing, Caroline knew Klaus finally was awake. It was the first time she'd let a drunk stay on her couch who wasn't a local, but he was far too out of it to be a threat last night. Plus, her bartending over the years had given her an almost infallible bullshit meter. Klaus wasn't dangerous. Just dangerously sexy. She rolled her eyes at that thought.

She'd given Enzo an earful last night for not keeping a closer watch on his crew. When he dropped off Klaus' stuff, he gave Caroline a saucy little wink and teased, "My apologies, gorgeous. I didn't know my mates rolled your tourist fluff."

"Seriously?! It's not like that — he's just going through a rough time with his fiancé leaving him at the altar for his brother, and he doesn't deserve getting his stuff stolen."

Enzo whistled, a rare look of sympathy flashing in his dark eyes. "Bollocks. No wonder he went after Jeremy like a man possessed. Gave him one hell of a shiner too — it's my new wallpaper on my phone."

Klaus stumbled into her kitchen, looking just as adorably rumpled as he did last night. Curse her weakness for complete disasters. He squinted at the sunlight pouring in from her open windows, and winced at the cheerful whirring and hissing of her espresso machine. "Caroline?"

She blushed to the roots of her hair, ridiculously pleased that he remembered her name. "Good morning, Klaus." She slid the cup and saucer toward him. "It's a double shot — I figured you could use it."

He blinked, taking a sip as he said gratefully, "Thank you, sweetheart."

"You're welcome. Um, so you probably don't remember much from last night, but after I found you passed out in the alley, you kept muttering you were staying at a bed and breakfast. Which isn't helpful when there's one on almost every corner in this town. So, I let you crash here instead."

Klaus gave her a small smile, rubbing his forehead as he muttered, "It's a sad commentary on my life that I've been in the presence of friends and family this past week and the most kindness I've been shown has been from a stranger."

"We're not strangers," Caroline protested with a gentle smile. "We're just friends who haven't finished bonding." As she refilled his cup, she winked, "And when it's my turn, I'm counting on you to have a very generous pour when I get left at the altar."

He suddenly froze, rapidly patting at his pockets, and she quickly said, "Hey, no, it's okay! I got your stuff back." She reached into the drawer between them, pulling out his wallet and carefully setting his grandmother's ring on top of it. "See? I told you I'd fix it."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he pocketed his belongings, telling her, "You're amazing, love. An angel, just as I suspected." His gaze suddenly turned shrewd as he studied her, "You know the thief."

"Yes. I have a friend who runs a crew that robs tourists that look like they can afford it." At his frown, Caroline felt the absurd need to make Klaus understand. "Work here is seasonal at best for a lot of us, and Enzo kind of redistributes wealth when he can." She held her breath, waiting for his judgement. He had swans at his almost-wedding, for fuck's sake. His type was definitely Enzo's favorite target.

Klaus let out an unexpected chuckle, telling her, "We should hope your friend never meets Kol. When we were in school, he set up an underground sports betting pool with the faculty and most of the staff." Shaking his curly head in bemusement, he added, "Kol had teachers giving him passing grades just to pay off their gambling debts."

She burst out laughing, wiping away tears as she imagined the crazy shenanigans Enzo and Kol would get into. That's not going to happen. Klaus is on vacation, remember? His ruined honeymoon. Her smile was overly bright as she started pulling containers from the refrigerator, explaining, "My friend Matt runs the cafe down the road. I wasn't sure what your go-to hangover food was, so I got you mine — butter biscuits and spicy sausage gravy, vanilla custard French toast, and orange juice."

"You've spoiled me, sweetheart. I don't know that I'll ever be able to repay all the kindness you've shown me."

She did her best not to blush at the intensity of his gaze as he helped her set the table. They ate in companionable silence, listening to the small town slowly come to life on the street below. She waited until Old Man Gilbert's noisy pontoon boat left the docks for the morning dolphin tour, and once the street was back to a manageable hum, she tentatively said, "Listen, I don't know what you're planning to do when you get back home, or if you've even allowed yourself to think that far ahead, but I wanted to offer you some advice."

When he raised an intrigued eyebrow, but didn't comment, she blurted out, "Go crazy. This is one of those moments where you can change whatever boring, expected path you'd planned out. Invite a little chaos into your life — do something wild and unexpected."

The sudden press of Klaus' lips to hers was just as thrilling as she'd imagined. He had her up against the cabinets with a resounding thud that seemed to fuel their frenzied kisses. The feel of his stubble against her neck was spicy-sweet pain that made her groan. Emboldened by her reaction, he dipped his head lower, running his tongue along her collarbone as he palmed her breast.

Caroline reached between them, rubbing the outline of his erection with a satisfied hum. It had been far too long since someone made her skin sing. He wanted her. And yesterday he wanted someone else. That thought alone jerked her out of their pleasurable haze. Placing a palm on his chest, she gently pushed him back, her words a bit jumbled as she panted, "That was...I mean...but we shouldn't..."

Klaus' cheeks were flushed as he smirked, "You advised me to do something wild and unexpected, sweetheart."

She snorted, "Seriously? That was totally expected." Her tone grew serious as she told him, "Klaus, you're going through something huge right now and I'm not looking to be someone's detour on the way back to their life."

"You aren't a detour — you're a destination," he replied. "But you're probably right — I've had a bloody awful time of it. I need to get myself sorted."

The determination on his face gave her hope; Klaus would be ok.


Four months later, Caroline was loading up the pushcart with kegs for that evening's tasting room event when Enzo strolled into the supply room, wearing his serious brows. She hadn't seen those since she'd dropped Klaus off at the airport and then sulked on Enzo's couch for days. He'd argued that she was being stubborn and should go track Klaus down. But she didn't want to get in the middle of his left-at-the-altar-for-his-brother drama. She refused to be someone's second choice.

"For fuck's sake, what is it," she asked in exasperation, wiping the sweat at her temples with the bottom of her old t-shirt.

Frowning, he jerked his head toward the street, telling her, "Looks like some competition has moved in, gorgeous." At her skeptical expression, he pulled her outside, pointing to a sign that proclaimed 'A Little Chaos' was opening soon. It looked like a bar. Right across the street from her bar. Frowning, she quickly made her way over, blinking in disbelief as she came face-to-face with a familiar devilish smirk.

"Caroline! I was just on my way to see you," Klaus greeted her, that knowing smile making her blush despite her anger.

"You're opening a bar. Across from my bar," she said flatly, eyeing the exquisite, hand-lettered gold leaf sign that probably cost more than her rent. "A hipster bar," she added, wrinkling her nose.

He chuckled as he lightly corrected her, "A speakeasy. I'll be able to show this town how to make a proper Ward Eight." With an impish wink, he reminded her, "Someone told me to invite a little chaos into my life. I decided to take her advice."