Author's note: This was written for Klaroline AU Season 2021 - Week Five: April 14-20 – Enemies to Lovers. Spies on opposite sides always had one mission, and nothing should ever compromise an operation. But Klaus always had a weakness for a woman who wore murder in her eyes.


"...a spy is always a spy, night and day, in bed, at table, as he walks abroad..."
― Honore de Balzac


It wasn't the first time Caroline had held a blade to Klaus' neck, but with his legs dangling precariously through the hole in the lighthouse floor, he assumed this would be the last. It comforted him to know that a swift death by her hand would be far more merciful than the agonizing one that awaited him hundreds of feet below.

Suddenly, she grabbed his arm, pulling him to safety. He slowly rose to his feet, eyeing her warily as he waited for her to lash out once more. Instead, she unexpectedly handed him her blade, her tone desperate and fearful as she said, "I need your help."

It was the only time he could recall being at a loss for words. His agency training had fine-tuned him to be prepared for every possible situation, to always have a carefully crafted response that allowed him to effortlessly complete every mission objective. The deadly blonde before him was an intriguing creature, and the few times their paths had crossed were burned in his mind.

Especially the time she didn't take the shot.

Elijah was supposed to be the wheelman, but his "expertly" forged passport got flagged in Recife, and it somehow led to Klaus staring down the barrel of Caroline's gleaming Sig. He should've been delivering the hostages to the Anchor rebel camp, but instead he fumbled his exit strategy — bloody mangroves with stinking, deep black mud— and now he was a hostage crouched on the dirty floor of a stilt house.

"The last time I saw you, it was through the scope of my MK 15. You were delicately sipping champagne from a gilt-edged crystal flute. I told myself the next time we met, I'd share a glass with the ravishing woman who wore murder in her eyes."

Purposely ignoring his silly flirtations, Caroline grinned, "Quite the price these cabinet members will fetch."

When he grumbled in irritation at the reminder of his failed mission, she slyly confessed, "You know, Markos doubled the bounty to anyone who could bring him an Originals agent." Playfully nudging one of his dimples with the gun barrel, she added, "Just a piece would do. Maybe I'll take one of these."

Sweat ran down his face as Klaus fought to keep his face impassive. He couldn't think of anything worse than dying at the hands of an Augustine mercenary. They were nothing more than cold, insidious creatures pledging their loyalty to sordid coin.

But Caroline was...Caroline. Beneath the shark-like indifference, Klaus had seen glimpses of something surprising. She scrunched her nose adorably. Mercenaries shouldn't be adorable. Not to mention the fleeting hints of sadness in her eyes. Mercenaries shouldn't feel...anything.

He cursed himself for wanting to know her.

Looking her square in the eye, he defiantly said, "Then you should take both dimples and have a matching set."

A bit of warmth flashed in her blue eyes, and there was a slight tremor to her hand as she studied him silently. In one fluid movement, she'd ripped off her earpiece and shattered it beneath the heavy sole of her combat boot. "Keep them. You wear them well," she said with a small smile, astonishing him by leaping headfirst out of the splintered open window frame to catch a suspension rope attached to a disturbingly quiet, sleek helicopter that suddenly hovered overhead. No doubt it was piloted by Augustine's daredevil assassin, Enzo. His legendary exploits were nearly as violent as Caroline's.

Rousing from his dumbfounded stupor, Klaus ran to the window calling out hopefully, "Perhaps next time, we can have that champagne?"

Klaus dumbly blinked at the blade Caroline unexpectedly surrendered, trying to figure out her angle. "You're an all-consuming shadow, a deadly whisper in the ear of the underground. Nothing and no one makes a move without your hand. You're the best Augustine has to offer. And you need my help?"

Caroline stiffened at his incredulous tone. "You don't know. The things...I...I'm done." She shook her head, blonde strands falling from her intricate plait. She glanced out the crumbling plaster window, where the beautiful teal waters of Mogadishu's Old Harbor were silent. The abandoned lighthouse presided over a dead city; the trade drying up ages ago in the midst of frenzied corruption, jihads and piracy.

Her hollow gaze betrayed haunted memories. "Augustine demands total devotion. If I had a soul, it was theirs long ago. There's no good or evil in their philosophy — only a code. And I always kept to it." Fists clenched at her sides, Caroline muttered, "But now Augustine is going after people who aren't a part of this; who don't know that...look, it's not right, and I can't do this anymore. Not like this."

"Be very clear what you're asking, love," Klaus cautioned in a deadly whisper, pulse racing as he could taste his enemy's surrender.

She took a breath, body still tense with muscles coiled in anticipation of an attack. "I have no one left. I once counted Enzo a friend, but Augustine is his family and his loyalty would never waver. In exchange for asylum with the Originals, I'll tell you everything I know about Augustine." A nervous energy came over her, and Caroline pulled a silver chain from where it had been hidden in her loose button up, revealing a small oval locket.

She made no move to open it, and he found himself aching for her to share just a sliver of her past with him. Neither knew who started it, but suddenly they were sharing a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and punishing regret. The dilapidated lighthouse stank of sea rot and human waste, but in that moment, all Klaus tasted was victory.

Caroline pulled away, blue eyes anxious as she asked hopefully, "So, can I trust you?"


His footsteps were heavy on the spiral staircase. Klaus kicked aside bits of rubble in his path, seemingly unconcerned with how the structure was one swift kick away from collapsing. Caroline's knife was still in his grasp, the blade slick with her blood. If he was surprised by Enzo's sudden appearance at the foot of the stairs, he gave no indication.

"Here to kill me then," Klaus asked with a smirk. "I'm in the mood for a proper tussle, mate."

Enzo stiffened, fingertips brushing his holster, but without any heat in his movement. "Caroline is my mission," he said firmly. "Markos said she's become a liability."

Klaus leveled him with a dead stare, a hint of dark amusement coloring his tone as he revealed, "Looks like I beat you to it." He lightly tossed Caroline's locket at Enzo's feet, the bloody blonde strands still tangled in the silver links. With a careless shrug, he added, "You know, she's always been a feisty bit, even at the end when I dropped her in the ocean. I love it when Mother Nature plays janitor."


The marina was a haven for drug lords and thieves, safely tucked away hundreds of miles away where it was understood that no questions were allowed as long as enough cash greased the local commissioner. The yacht was moored in the deepest slip, magnificent sails fluttering in the light ocean breeze. There was a skip in Klaus' step and a playful whistle upon his lips as he boarded, quickly uncoiling the ropes from the dock.

The tall captain's chair swiveled around, revealing a smug Caroline who handed him a glass of champagne. "Took you long enough," she teased, clinking the rims of their flutes.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. My timing is impeccable as always," Klaus replied, nodding toward her bandaged arm with a wink.

He wondered if she was armed.

Klaus realized he didn't care — he enjoyed a ravishing woman who wore murder in her eyes.