Caroline walked into the Tower's administrative office like she owned the place. The low, slanted-roof building stood in the shadow of the Tower's graceful lines and was home to the day-to-day activities that kept the city running. She marched into the supply office and passed her hand under the summoning ward, hearing an old fashioned bell-tinkle sound in the recesses of the office in response. A disgruntled murmur a human wouldn't hear followed, the creak of a chair's springs next, and a man in his early forties came up to the counter, his eyes widening slightly at Caroline's appearance. Red lips, tweed suit and auburn power chignon. He swallowed thickly.

"Hi Jim, I'm Alana from VSM." She waited expectantly.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"The auditor's office? I was told the supplier codes would be here so that we can finish our review up before the gala." Caroline gave a tight smile, speaking sotto voice, "Not that anyone asked us mind you. I'd rather be sitting home reading the latest Childs novel."

Jim's face brightened. "It's amazing! I'm reading it n-" he stopped himself before admitting he was screwing off on the job, and Caroline leaned in closer, speaking conspiratorally.

"Well don't let me stop you." She leaned back to look at the clipboard she'd had tucked beneath an arm and then back at him. "Is it the same code as last week? We were supposed to audit then but Marcel postponed it?"

"Uh..no, they're changed every week. Always." His smile dropped a little.
Shit. She knew that. Now he was suspicious. She gave a self-deprecating laugh, shaking her head.

"Of course, I was just hoping so that I wouldn't have to keep bothering you. I'll just take them now then. Oh! Can you give me any spoilers? Please tell me Finn's in this book," she steered the conversation back. Keep the mark off guard, distracted.

His smile lifted back on his face. It was a sweet smile, and Caroline pushed down the guilt she always felt around the nice marks. He bent down, rummaging with some papers below the counter, his voice muffled as he spoke. "He just showed up! God what a great villain. You know I heard he was only supposed to be in one book but fan reaction turned him become a series regular." His head lifted and he handed a stamped card over, magic limning the edges with a dull blue glow. "Here you go, Alana, was it?" He looked almost hopeful, and Caroline reached across the counter, letting her hand touch his as she grabbed the card.

"Pleasure speaking to you Jim. Maybe I'll stop by when I've finished the novel, we can compare notes?" She turned at his pleased assent and strode out the door, her mind already on the afternoon's job.

Klaus looked annoyingly attractive in a maintenance worker's uniform, which was especially irritating when on her it was truly the most unflattering sack-like thing ever. She pushed the door of the warehouse open with a bit too much force, and the security guard looked up at the clang. She showed the pass and her ID, painting her as one Clemence Day from Fourberie Drain Services (apparently Josh couldn't resist) and the guard waved them by as Klaus flashed his own identification. The actual drain cleaners were currently tied up in a back room in The Abattoir, their blood draining so that they could be compelled. Klaus had grudgingly agreed that killing anyone could potentially raise an alarm before they were ready to act, so compulsion was key.

The warehouse echoed with the sucking sound of the pumps as they pushed water through screens of vervain, circulating it several times until the leaves lost their color. Caroline and Klaus walked towards the main console, their shadows long in the low gleam of the emergency lights. Making vervain water took days, according to Caroline's research, and there was always just a skeleton security guard crew here on day two - there was nothing for workers to do once the screens were in place, which made it perfect for their mission.

Still, Caroline searched the room with a note of unease, marking the doors and exits, catching Klaus doing the same. He pulled out a glass tube, dumping its contents in the first vat, hearing the dull hiss as the potion spread through the vervain molecules, rendering them inert. Caroline reached the console, plugging the device Josh had given her into the port. It gave four short clicks and the console screen fired up. It needed a few minutes to load the virus that would render testing useless. It would be all well and good if they tampered with the water and someone figured it out before delivering the supply to the Tower. Marcel had been smart to ensure that all his employees were dosed each day as part of their shift, it kept the risk under his control. They were merely taking advantage of it.

Caroline looked up, watching Klaus head to the next vat, ease and grace in his movements. He moved like the predator he was, she thought idly. A wheezing thud echoed from behind her, one of the pumps turning back on to recirculate, but the unfamiliar sound made her jump. She glanced back down at the console, the progress bar showing the load was a third of the way through, ugh. Another sound echoed from behind her, different, and she tensed, moreso when Klaus' voice whispered lowly at her ear. She'd thought he was still at the tanks, his approach unnervingly soundless.

"Come with me, now."

She followed without question as he eased them behind the slatted door closest to the console. It was a supply closet, a small one. Klaus' arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her close, his voice barely audible.

"Veilwraith. I can't believe Marcel has one. Quite the security detail. Do not move, and as it gets closer try to stop your breathing. It senses vibration, changes in the air."

Caroline tensed further and Klaus tightened his grip, her body flush against his as the monster approached. She'd heard of them of course, but they were the bogeymen of Mystic Falls, lies told to keep your kids in line. She'd never imagined they were real, wizards that had fought their way back through the veil they'd created and paid the price with their bodies. She remembered the book she'd always snuck down from her dad's bookcase so she could scare herself and her friends at slumber parties. It looked exactly as pictured and she felt bile rise in her throat.

It was at the console now, its head twisting, rotating loosely on its neck. The face barely hinted at human origins, skin pulled taut over the faint imprints of where a nose and mouth used to be, smooth, leathery skin stretched over the ears. Its skin glistened in the low emergency lights. The hands were stretched out as if tasting the air and Caroline willed her breath to stop, her heartbeat to slow. Klaus was solid granite behind her, unyielding, and she took comfort from it and from his warmth that seeped in through the paralyzing fear. Because if the pictures were right, then the stories had to be too.

The veilwraith moved erratically, sometimes gliding as graceful as a vampire, sometimes skittering ahead, and Caroline kept her body tense to not react to its shifts. As her heartbeat slowed her awareness increased, her already superhuman senses on hyperalert. The predator as prey. The creature paused, hands twisting in the air, not ten feet from the supply closet door. A moment. Two. The agony of the wait was almost unbearable, she felt her muscles crying for movement like a staring match about to break. She clung to the feeling of every line of her pressed against Klaus, a lifeline as the veilwraith passed, its feet thwacking wetly on the metal floor, and she couldn't help the small puff of air she let out as it walked further on, out of their sight.

The faintest of whispers at her ear again, and she fought a shiver. "A door just slid open." A pause. "Shut." Klaus' fingers splayed against her belly, contracted, before he let her go. She pushed back against him, not willing to leave the comfort, and his hand dusted her side almost tentatively.

"It must be a set patrol. Probably the only way they can keep it from terrorizing the staff. We need to leave now, I have no intention of squaring up against a veilwraith, nor revealing the game with its death."

The confidence in his tone, now a rough rasp of a whisper against her ear, gave her the courage to push away, her breath coming in heaves that she quieted slowly, her body shaking.

They slid out of the closet, quickly finishing the sabotage, Josh's virus securely loaded in the testing protocol. Once they were outside having given the security guard a shaky goodbye nod - did he even know? - Caroline spoke, her voice shaking.

"I never want to see anything like that again."

"You don't have to, love. Marcel can't keep it around the gala, it wouldn't be able to stand the noise and would be uncontrollable. Not sure how he's keeping it under leash here, truth be told."

"Thank you." The words slipped out, and she blamed her admission on the shock and declined to elaborate despite Klaus' quizzical glance. She hoped he'd think her thanks were merely a response to his words. She turned away, briskly walking to the fake company van Josh had gleefully stenciled the logo on. Something had shifted, back there in the closet with her heart in her throat and his presence a comfort, but she sure as hell didn't want him to know about it.

The drive to the junkyard where they'd planned to trash the vehicle was filled with a silence of the weighted kind. Caroline looked anywhere but at Klaus, trying to sort out her thoughts and his white-knuckled grip on the wheel the only thing betraying his reaction. A few times, she caught him out of the corner of her eye opening his mouth to break the pall of silence, but each time he stopped. They crossed the wards of the junkyard's perimeter and Caroline itched with the need to get out of the van.

His voice stopped her before she got one leg out.

"What Marcel has - " Klaus cleared his throat and Caroline marveled at his awkwardness. He was nervous, and the idea that the commanding presence that was Klaus Mikaelson could be nervous talking to her bubbled up inside her, a gift. He started again, changing tack."My mother made us into what we are to protect us, but also as an attempt to stop the wizard's reign." He stared unwaveringly through the windshield, his hand draped across the wheel, the low-dipping sun lancing an arc of light across his knuckles. "By the time the wizards realized our power, realized the threat we would be, it was mostly too late for them."

"Mostly?"

He glanced at her but his gaze wasn't the focused stare she'd gotten used to from him. "Kol - one of my brothers," he elaborated, "was the first to find Silas' journals." He paused, and his eyes came back to the present, locking on her own, and she shifted in her seat but kept his stare.

He nodded slowly, his eyes closing for a few seconds, lashes thick against his cheek. She saw the decision in his eyes when he opened them.

"What Marcel has is the cure for vampirism, developed by Silas to remove our powers. With it, Marcel can render me as helpless as a human." He cleared his throat again. "So what I'm saying, love, is that-"

"-this heist is as important for you as it is for me," she finished, her words soft, letting her words gather before she spoke again. "Moreso, to be honest. I can't believe I'm saying thank you twice in one day to the 'hybrid king'," she curled her hands in quotes, "which by the way is the lamest name ever and you need like some villainous PR firm to help you with your image, maybe a logo, but…thanks. It helps. To know," she finished with a wave of her hand, at a strange loss for words. It wasn't really about the trust he'd shown, but all the same it was a bit of his past, something important to him, and to ignore that wasn't something she could manage.

The sun winked out on the horizon as if to seal the conversation, and both of them broke from the daze of those who've lost track of time. Klaus picked up his phone and dialed a number, lowly issuing orders in a venomous tone, and Caroline headed home with thoughts of wizards and original vampires, of the notion that someone could seep into your life one moment at a time.

The problem, Caroline had realized early on, was going to be telling her mom. She'd already tried to convince herself that lying and saying she'd won the lottery was not going to cut it. She spent her days lying to marks, she couldn't lie to the people she cared about. Having already blatantly fibbed to her mom once about her job was enough, and frankly that was making this whole admission thing worse.

She straightened the silverware for the fifth time and got up and stirred the pasta. If she was going to admit some things, buttering her mom up with spaghetti carbonara first would ease the blow, right? The front door shut closed, Caroline so distracted by her anxiety she hadn't even heard her mom's entrance.

"Care? What smells so delicious?" Mrs. Forbes rounded the corner, giving Caroline an absentminded peck on the cheek before she lifted the lid on the pot bubbling on the stove. She turned back with a shrewd look. "Caroline Forbes. The only time you cook for me is when you want something. What's this about?"

"I'm offended mom, can't a daughter cook her mom a nice dinner without suspicion?"

"Not if she's you." Liz laughed at her daughter's affronted expression. "You show me love in other ways, Caroline. You're a wonderful daughter," she appeased, patting Caroline on the shoulder. "Now what do you want?"

Caroline twisted her fingers together nervously. "Well, it's not what I want, but more like," she grimaced, "what I did?"

Liz sat down heavily at the kitchen table, her injured leg sticking straight out. She'd claimed the pain wasn't as bad when she did that, but Caroline could still see it behind her eyes. The thought strengthened her.

"Mom, I've found a way to pay for the spellsurgery."

"What? How?" Liz's expression darkened. "Don't tell me you cashed in the bond Grandma Forbes left you. But that wouldn't be enough anyway..." Liz set her empty fork down and leveled her gaze at her daughter, waiting for an answer.

"So, you know…" Caroline stopped, unable to continue. God this sucked. She got up, taking the pasta off the burner and piling a hefty amount on her mom's plate.

"Caroline. You're freaking me out now."

Caroline gave a weak laugh. "I'm not so sure if what I have to say will make that better or worse." She drew in a deep breath, breathed out in a shaky exhale. "OK. Look, the truth is mom, I'm...I'm not a vervain water salesperson. I'm a grifter. Like dad." She hid her head in her hands, peeked through her fingers when the silence drew out. Her mom was staring at her with an expression that confused her. She closed her fingers.

"Mom? This is getting a bit awkward. If you're thinking of killing me now, just remember that I cooked you delicious pasta and I always clean my room." She lowered her hands and looked pleadingly at her mom.

"I'm a cop, Caroline. Did you really think I didn't know? I'm almost insulted."

"Seriously? Why didn't you just tell me then?"

"It's not like I support it Caroline." Liz twirled some pasta around her fork, frowning, the lines set around her mouth exaggerated by the expression. "God damn it, I yelled and pleaded with Bill every time he took you out to 'teach you the tricks of the trade'. I hate it, I hate that you have to do it because the council is too busy stuffing its pockets, I hate that I can't do what I want and ground you for a thousand years." She set her fork down, letting out her breath in an exasperated huff. "But that still doesn't answer the question. I know what kind of small-change games Bill played, and they'd never earn enough for spellsurgery. What's going on?"

After that outburst, Caroline wasn't exactly feeling great about revealing the next part. "You know, maybe we can talk about this next week? Or when you're under the knife?" She held up her hands in questioned offering, brows raised.

"I didn't raise my daughter to avoid facing things head on, now did I?"

Caroline's smile was bright as the door swung open. "Hi! I'm Cassie from ArrangeYourLife!" she chirped, grabbing the man's hand and pumping it in a firm handshake. "You must be Tom! So happy to meet you! I'm excited to help you start on your closet wellness journey!" Tom recovered from the onslaught quickly, hiding a sneer of disdain behind well-schooled features. Caroline hid her own disgust. This guy was pure upper-crust douche, but he was the key to getting into Marcel's vault.

Tom held the door open and ushered them in with a genteel half-bow. "A pleasure. Your services came quite highly recommended. And this is?"

"Benjamin Rook. Cassie's assistant." Caroline marveled at the subservience in his tone. He was certainly letting her take the lead on this, and something about it was strangely thrilling.

"Benjamin helps me with the labor and has a real eye for color," Caroline exclaimed, clutching at Klaus' arm. "Don't know what I'd do without him!"

Tom rubbed at the space between his brows and Caroline gave an inward cheer and resolved to keep up the bright cheery attitude. It clearly was distracting Mr. Avery, and a distracted mark is an easy mark.

"So! Let's get that closet cleaned! I have all your speccies from the webform and our emails."

Tom sniffed. "Speccies? Oh, specifications." The disgust dripped from his words and Caroline wasn't sure if she was going to make it out of this house without laughing. Klaus coughed behind her. "Yes, you were quite...thorough, so I'll just...let you get to it. The closet is in the master bedroom." He led them upstairs, ushering them into a bedroom dominated by dark furniture and heavy drapes.

"I'll just leave you to it. I'll be in my office just down the hall." He reached out and put a hand on Klaus' arm, stilling the hybrid's movement. "Be careful with the Ausers, will you? They cost more than you make in a year."

Klaus broke at that, twisting the man's grip in his hand and pulling him towards the office as he spoke. "I ate the scion of the Auser family when he flubbed the cuff on one of my handmade suits and this insolent middle manager has the audac-"

"SHHhhh," Caroline hushed, "I don't need to hear about your pompous dietary habits right now, we need information!" She wound the ropes tight around their captive, securing him to the office chair. She bent down, putting herself at eye level with a somehow still disdainful Tom, her pupils dilating as she uttered her compulsion. "You'll answer all of our questions truthfully."

"I'm on verva-" Tom's face twisted, shock appearing just before the film of compulsion slid across his features. "I'll answer all of your questions truthfully."

Klaus and Caroline looked at each other with satisfied grins.

"What is the code to Marcel's safe?"
"What's the security like?"
"What protects the vault?"

They assaulted Tom with questions, and he answered, though Caroline could tell he was trying to fight the compulsion and her estimation of him rose. They'd needed someone who was mid-way up the totem pole, someone with security clearance and an understanding of the inner workings, but someone whose presence wouldn't be too missed in case things went awry.
Tom had been - was - perfect. Especially when he was not only confirming their existing intel, but adding to it. And then, the coup de grace, as Caroline held up her phone to get a good recording.

"Say the vault passcode."

An angry glare, sweat dripping down Tom's temples. "D-davina." Klaus' brows shot up at this, and Caroline made a mental note to ask later. For now, they had what they needed. She knelt down, face close to Tom, to utter the final instructions. She'd argued with Klaus about this part, insisted compulsion was better than death. She'd won, she thought smugly, and her distraction cost her, Tom snapping his ropes and lunging at her, biting into her flesh with blunt human teeth.

She shoved him back with vampiric strength, plaster raining down from the impact as he slammed against the wall. Klaus stared at her almost accusingly, and what was up with that, before kneeling down and murmuring lowly to Tom, putting his own compulsion. She touched her hand to her neck, surprised by the wet slick of blood. Her fangs descended at the scent, her thoughts swirling and trying to puzzle out the scene. What did Tom think he could accomplish? She couldn't think through the dull thud of her neck, tender to the touch- oh.

"But he was unregistered!" she exclaimed.

Klaus response was angry and she reeled from the violence of it. "And you relied on a supernatural census instead of your senses?" He was in her space now, lifting aside her hair and staring at the wound. "No matter the hours of study, you have to rely on your instincts. How could you be so -" Caroline could tell he was struggling with the next word and bristled in anticipation, ready for a fight. "-careless."

She was shocked by his vehemence into an apology she didn't quite feel. "I - I'm sorry. I didn't know. Is he - "

"Yes, he's fully compelled into submission now. Which should have happened the first time."

She rankled at that. "Maybe you should have considered your offer more carefully if I'm so incompetent." Her pulse throbbed in her neck, a reminder. "Oh god, what do I do? What do I tell my mom?" She looked up, her eyes shining with panic and regret. "Will you still help her? Please, Klaus?"

His face softened and he touched her cheek, a quick ghost of a caress that sent an unbidden thrill down her spine despite the werewolf poison. "Do you know what I am, Caroline?"

"An insufferable jerk?" Klaus smiled despite the lack of heat in her response. Or maybe because of it.

"Try again, love. I'm a hybrid. A werewolf and a vampire. And -" he paused, his fangs snicking down - and up - from inside his mouth, "my blood is the cure to werewolf poison."

Caroline wasn't sure if this was a dream or not, but it seemed awfully convenient.

Klaus laughed, apparently she'd said that out loud. "I suppose so, love. Here, drink." He turned her, sliding his arms around her and holding up his dripping wrist, the blood welling dark against his pale skin. The scent was heady, though Caroline blamed it on her swiftly-building delirium. When her lips latched around the wound his arm tightened around her, her body flush against his chest, and a small puff of his breath hit her ear, as if he'd exhaled in surprise. She pulled deep, her fangs dropping to keep the wound open, the blood filling her mouth slick on her teeth, sliding across her tongue.

Tom's apartment receded in her vision, as if allowing her a private moment. It was just her and the pleasure of the blood hissing in her veins, coursing down her throat, and the rumble of Klaus' chest as he murmured something incoherent into her hair. A thought grew in her mind, something she wasn't sure she wanted to explore, but the soft touch of his hands in her hair made it impossible to ignore. He'd been so angry with her, for getting bitten, but why? Investment in the plan?

She was starting to think it was more, and beyond that, that she hoped it was.