Apologies that this took so long to get out!

Klaus had known he would find Caroline at the warehouse. Her over-bright smile at Elena after her utter disapproval regarding the artists who'd been brought in were signals an idiot wouldn't miss. He had to give her credit, his little spy, she did her best to distract him.

"I do worry about her," Elena murmured, doe-eyed, fingers gripping his arm tightly. "She's one of those people who always seem to take their work home with them."

"I'm not privy to Ms. Forbes personal life," Klaus deflected, studying the art they passed as best he was able. He felt he was missing something, and it clawed at his gut.

Elena cast a quick glance from beneath her lashes, but Klaus kept his face bland. He hadn't been aware that Caroline and Elena were friends, but the amusing physical resemblance between Mrs. Salvatore and Katerina Petrova might have played a part? He made a note to ask Kol what gossip he'd picked up from Lockwood.

Still, he didn't like that curious, expectant look behind Elena's eyes. Who he chose to associate with was always fodder for gossip, but this poor attempt to read him wasn't amusing.

Elena sighed when it was clear he was done speaking. "I think Tyler could be so good for her, but Caroline is stubborn. But all good things come to those who wait! And Tyler seems determined."

Klaus dimpled. "I wouldn't know. I'm not much for waiting."

"Yes, I'd heard that." Elena smiled brightly, seemingly satisfied with his answer and pulled him along, switching to chattering about the more popular artists on display.

He'd given Caroline two days. Then he quietly staked out the art warehouse, using Kol to keep watch through the limited cameras. His brother had complained, and there was nothing more irritating than a bored Kol. The past three nights had been filled with endless complaints and innuendos.

"I cannot believe we're just standing around, waiting for the possibility of your mutant beauty to show up. What if you miss her? Your track record is terrible."

Klaus had little doubt that Caroline could slip past even the best defenses. Which was why her little espionage run through the laboratory shouldn't have surprised him, but her near capture did. That she'd clearly been ambushed was a problem he'd spent hours sitting in front of an easel considering and he'd yet to come to a satisfactory conclusion. Not everyone had a Kol hunting through computer systems, and Caroline was very good at staying in the shadows.

Which just added a few more questions to the list he was compiling.

"I'm assuming your silence is because you're still hiding by the big skylight instead of doing anything useful. If you get caught, see if she'll take you back to her place for that roommate to look at you, because I'm on a stitch-boycott."

Klaus opened his mouth to make a biting comment and paused. He'd assumed based on her previous movements and tendency towards heights that she'd take to the roofs. He glanced towards the office, senses humming. He'd heard nothing, Kol hadn't seen anything... yet...

"Check the computers."

"What?"

"Do it."

"Okay, fine, but she's not there. You've got eyes watching the place - me, and... what the hell?"

Klaus dropped the twenty feet to the ground and tucked into a roll. The warehouse was utterly silent, and he moved on careful feet towards where he knew the office was located. For a top secret smuggling operation or whatever was going on here, there was a distinct lack of security.

"She's looking at manifests. That's it." Kol's voice was terse, irritation clear in each word. "How the hell did she get by me?"

"I want copies of anything she clicks on."

"Why don't you just ask for it? I thought all the ladies threw their panties at your dimples. Surely it isn't that difficult for you to get a few manifests from a pretty, mutant, spy person?"

"If it's too difficult..."

Kol scoffed. "That stopped working when I was thirteen!"

Klaus grinned to himself and eased the door open. Vivid blue eyes glanced up and rolled in his direction. "Hello, sweetheart."

"I don't have time for you."

Brows arching, even though he knew she couldn't see it from underneath his hood, he went to make a glib comment and stopped himself. The skin around her eyes was tight, and sweat bright against her skin. "You're pale."

"You're ridiculous."

He waited until she'd finished typing, watching her tuck the USB drive into a hidden pocket. With Kol following her footprints - or simply downloading everything - he could concentrate on Caroline. He waited until she tried to step around him before he used his body to cut off her exit, fingers curling around her wrist, automatically checking the flutter of her pulse.

Her eyes were blue, but the colors were off - streaks of near purple turned her gaze nearly bruised. "What happened?"

Her eyes narrowed, temper brightening the shade into something more familiar. "Let go."

"Now, sweetheart, that's hardly the way to talk to someone who's simply concerned," Klaus chided. He let his gaze go hard, held her eyes. "Your pulse is too quick, your skin is clammy and your eyes are the wrong color. What happened?"

She hissed between her teeth, the noise loud in the room, but she suddenly froze and he followed her into a crouch. "'Did you hear that?"

Klaus canted his head. "Anything on the cameras?"

Caroline glanced at him. Confusion was clear in her gaze but he tilted his head; let her glimpse the earpiece usually hidden in his hood and her eyes cleared. He wondered what she thought of Kol.

"Oh? Did you remember I was here? I'm delighted," Kol growled. "You've got a couple of guards doing their rounds... although usually guards don't pack that much firepower. I'm not showing any alarms triggered. Did your girlfriend hit something?"

"Two guards," Klaus murmured. "My exit is out."

She nodded, and pulled off her gloves. Reaching out, she curled her hand between his own glove and the edge of his shirt. He set his teeth, trying not to comment on the clammy feel of her hand. "Stay close and do not step out of the shadows."

This time he was better prepared for the crawl of whatever she did to wash over his skin. The sensation was different, a little less like static electricity and more of a faint hum of sensation. Klaus wondered how much had to do with her control. He intended to ask.

But he kept his mouth shut until they'd slipped out a side door he'd decided was too risky; the sight lines were obscured, but he'd have managed the shot. He couldn't help the quirk of his lips and how she'd surprised him again. When her hand released him he caught her fingers tightly between his.

"Talk to me."

She spun, and while he was relieved to see the fight back in her eyes, he ground his teeth at the walls there. "Look, just because we have similar night hobbies, it doesn't mean we are on the same side!"

"I think that depends on what you mean by side," Klaus replied. "Morality means something quite different to us, but I believe we want to accomplish similar goals."

Her head tilted, and he cursed her disguise for hiding the press of her lips, the angle of her chin. "I'm not working with you."

"Pity," Klaus drawled, letting his tone bite. "Pushing me away won't solve this."

"There is nothing to solve," she ground out. "You have your vendetta and I have mine. Leave it."

He bared his teeth in a proxy of a smile, stepped into her space. "I distinctly remember asking you something similar not a week ago and you very firmly rebuffed those attempts. Change your mind?"

"See, that's the thing Klaus," Caroline murmured, eyes glittering in the dull light. "I'm not following you, demanding answers. My secrets are mine. Should I decide to tell them to anyone, it'll be to someone I trust."

"You haven't told those friends of yours - don't bother denying it sweetheart, your eyes don't speak of a shared past but of burdens carried alone." Klaus tilted his head to better hold her gaze. "We both know more than the other is comfortable with, sweetheart."

"Some burdens are meant to be carried alone," Caroline said stubbornly.

He caught her hand, pressed against the bare skin of her palm. "That's where you're wrong."

"Don't play the romantic for information." Her voice was filled with exasperation and an unexpected sharpness. "It's beneath you."

"I play at very little in life, love. I don't need to." Klaus let his tone soften, stepped away just enough to give her space she seemed to desperately need. She was clearly rattled, her body language and eyes contradicting. "Sweetheart, let me help."

"No."

Klaus smiled at the surly tone of her voice. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Her eyes narrowed, a few threads of gold brightening the determination of her gaze as she turned and walked away. He watched her until the shadows swallowed her. Klaus wondered how she'd react if she knew that her refusals hadn't put him off, the guarded way she boarded her secrets enticing him to pry. Something had happened, and it infuriated him that she refused to let him in.

"Well, that went well. I think the only way she could've been clearer was if she'd tried to shove something sharp and pointy into your jugular. Do you want me to keep digging?"

"No," Klaus murmured. Regardless of what Ms. Caroline Forbes wished to believe, Klaus knew down to his bones that this was just the beginning. "Whatever her secrets, she's buried them. Let it lie for now."

He had every intention of learning all her secrets, what left those bruises in her fascinating eyes. Klaus was certain both of them would bleed before this was done. But so be it.

He still had a few cards left to play.

Caroline had a raging headache.

The week had become her personal ragnarok, between the fiasco with Klaus at the warehouse and then the nightmares that continued to plague her. She cursed her subconscious, the memories she buried that had been so brutally yanked to the surface. Just thinking about the scent - sawdust, dust and the faintest touch of metallic - left her shaky.

She'd never admit it, but Klaus showing up to growl at her had grounded her better than anything since her mom died. The challenge of him - mental, emotional, and physical - was somehow bracing. She might've even considered being nicer the next time they ran into each other, except for the flowers.

Her eye twitched just thinking about it.

Colorful, tasteful arrangements that were bright pops of color and sunshine had been showing up like clockwork for the past week. Katerina had been amused, but that look behind her best friend's gaze had shifted to full on predatory. And his notes. Oh no, they weren't the generic 'have a nice day' or 'I was thinking about you, please think of me.' Those she could have blown off and tossed as easily as the actual flowers.

Drat the man, he was sending her sketches.

Colorful, little bursts of story. Her swallow tattoo. Hilarious stick figure duels. She'd tucked them away in her desk, and tried not to wonder at a man who was so at odds with what she believed, creating such little works of art. For a moment, she let herself daydream. But dreaming only left her with bloodied palms when they shattered between her tightly clenched fingers.

Klaus knew what she was and saw some of her secrets; the anti-mutant stance had merely quieted until the next election. Caroline couldn't imagine he'd risk a penny of his empire if the tide turned again. There was an agenda with him that she just couldn't see yet; there was always an agenda. Even if there was an inexplicable spark between them - she admitted it, okay? - that didn't nearly explain this... nonsense. Klaus Mikaelson, the playboy making a move she could rationalize; the rumor mill was quick to paint him as a lover of women. But Klaus the vigilante watched her with eyes she couldn't read, that annoying smugness and curling smirk digging into her psyche. Surely she wasn't the first woman who wanted to light him on fire?

Pushing into the lobby of reception, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her day had been filled with hellish meetings and client hand holding, and all she wanted was her tub and a glass of wine. Maybe she'd get lucky and had Enzo cooked before disappearing. She considered that while she dreamed of the comfy flats tucked into her desk.

"You look terrible. Are you sleeping?" Kat asked as she strolled out, clearly leaving for the day. She was juggling her laptop and purse, hair twisted into a messy bun. "Does Enzo know you're trying out for an extra in that God-awful show of his? Dead Walking? Walking Dead? Doesn't matter. Go home."

Caroline rolled her eyes and winced at the clock. Half-past six, no wonder she was hungry. Lunch had been a meeting and she'd barely gotten through half her salad. "I'm going, I'm going. I just need to glance real quick at my emails and then I'm out."

"Uh huh," Kat drawled. A sly, curious look stopped Caroline in her tracks.

"What?"

"No flowers today."

"Thank God."

Instead of heading to the elevator, Kat turned and followed her back through the glass doors. "So, I'm curious."

"The last time you were curious about what you erroneously thought was my love-life, I found that wide-receiver tied naked to my bed," Caroline said waspishly. "We're lucky he didn't press charges."

"Regardless of your prudish alarm," Kat replied with a touch of disdain in her voice. "There was no way he was pressing charges after he got an eyeful of your tits. However, that's in the past. Today, that evil doppelganger of mine brought in something from your billionaire admirer."

"Elena was here?"

"Caroline - you don't just go around calling out to Lucifer, you refer to him by other means. I don't want Satan in my office, much less one baring hideous gifts. I will not be held responsible for assaulting someone trying to steal my face - I've said this. She simpers, it's God-awful."

"I don't have a billionaire admirer. He's just being an ass, because I annoyed him," Caroline dismissed as she opened her door. The rest of her rebuttal died on her lips as she took in the painting that had been hung on her wall.

"Then what is that?"

Caroline stared at the hideous painting she'd complained about to Klaus, in silent disbelief. Not only had he purchased it, but Elena Salvatore had hung it on her wall. Temper ignited in her chest and her exhaustion fell away. With a growl, she headed straight back to the elevator.

"Care?"

"It's a declaration of war," Caroline snarled as she hit the down button several times. "I'm going to make him eat it."

"Hate sex would be good for you," Kat mused as they stepped into the elevator. "Maybe you'd sleep."

"I'm going to murder him, Kat; there will be no sex, angry or otherwise."

"Care, your combat evolution doesn't include offensive capabilities. Be sure to unbutton that top a little. He'll never notice you reaching for his neck if he can see your boobs."

Caroline scowled at her. "Did you just refer to one of Enzo's video games?"

"If I'm going to suffer through those idiotic things, I'm going to make everyone suffer with me. Remember, tits out."

By the time she made it back through downtown traffic to the ridiculous high-rise apartment of his she'd shifted from irate to fuming. She supposed he could be at the estate outside of town, but he was pushing her buttons on purpose. He'd stay close. The sooner he took that God-awful painting out of her office, the better. She braced herself for fighting with the doorman but frowned when she was waved through after providing her I.D.

"Mr. Mikaelson said if you showed up to send you through."

Caroline gave the doorman a flat stare. "When was this?"

"A few weeks ago, ma'am."

Caroline chewed on that all the way to the penthouse and decided that was the least of her issues. Her feet hurt, her head hurt and exhaustion was creeping along her spine. Compressing her lips, she smashed the doorbell with an impatient huff.

She wasn't expecting the sensory overload of the Klaus who opened the door. Curls damp, he brought with him the scent of something delicious, the worn Henley and jeans somehow managing to give an air of comfortable when previously he'd only inspired the urge to strangle him.

He was barefoot.

"Caroline," Klaus drawled, lips curled into a dimpled smile that made her stomach jump. "I take it you didn't like the painting after all?"

"You're an ass," Caroline said bluntly, glaring into his perfectly handsome face. "Stop it."

Klaus leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, continued to grin as if he had all the time in the world. "Stop what?"

She jabbed a finger at him. "I'm not apologizing for anything I said at the warehouse. So whatever campaign you're on to embarrass me, cut it out. I have a business to run and I don't need my employees riled up with ridiculous, and untrue gossip because you've got a burr up your ass."

His gaze heated, darkening as he slid his eyes down her rumpled suit, lingering on the heels which put her nearly at a height advantage with him barefoot. When his eyes returned to hers, they were hot with something that made her breath catch. "Well now, that'd depend on the gossip. As much as I love this foreplay of ours, I need to make sure dinner isn't burning. Shoes off and shut the door behind you."

She snarled as he walked away. Caroline gave herself to the count of ten - goddamn those jeans - before sliding out of her heels and slamming the door shut behind her. Dropping her shoes, she stomped after him and paused, biting her lip to wiggle her aching toes against the unexpected plushness of the carpet. She heard him banging around in the kitchen she couldn't quite see, and looked across the layout, curiosity almost pushing aside her anger.

"How do you feel about Italian?"

Her stomach rumbled and she took a deep, centering breath and followed him around the corner. "I'm not eating. Seriously Klaus, this is getting ridiculous."

The kitchen was lovely.

Enzo would be so jealous.

Klaus in the kitchen, with his Henley rolled to his elbows, and clearly comfortable in his work space was mouth watering. There was a bottle of something breathing on the counter, and whatever he was cooking smelled unbelievably amused glance he graced her with as her eyes jumped along the open layout, the casualness to this space was full of affection.

"Wine?"

"What?" Her gaze snapped back to him.

"Would you like a glass of wine, sweetheart?" He reached for a dish towel and wiped his hands, studying her intently. "You have a headache."

Caroline rolled her eyes, looking to the ceiling patience. "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am," Klaus said as he poured a glass. "You hate the painting. You don't believe I'm inciting gossip for any purpose but to annoy you and you're insisting on leaving before dinner. How am I doing so far?"

She studied him, lips pursed. He seemed more amused and determined than irritated, but she didn't trust that smile. That smile promised things that Kat would approve of and that was probably a terrible idea. "8.7."

His smile widened. "On what scale?"

"Does it matter?" Caroline ran her fingers through her bangs with a frustrated sigh. "What are you doing, Klaus?"

He reached behind him and clicked off the burners. "Sweetheart, if I was any other man, and you were standing in his kitchen while he cooked you dinner, what would you assume?"

She blinked at him. "This isn't a date."

He offered her the wine with a devil may care smile that nearly curled her toes. "Yet."

"Klaus..."

"You have questions," he cajoled, eyes wicked. "I owe you a couple of secrets. You might as well take me up on dinner love, as the kind of discussion you want needs privacy and we know you're not ready for that flavor of pillow talk."

"Do you hear yourself?"

"A blind monk would be tempted by you, Caroline." The raw tone to his voice startled her, and she took the wine as a liquid defense if nothing else. It'd ruin the carpet, but she'd do it. "We've started out a little badly, and I'd hardly call our exchange of information equal. I'm offering to fix that."

She sipped the red, tried not to sigh in pleasure. Tilting her head, she tapped her glass. "That's easy enough to do without bringing a date into this."

"But false, as my interest isn't purely professional."

Caroline tapped her foot, debating. He let her, shifting his focus back to the food he was preparing. She could walk out. Leave him and his delicious smelling food that would probably taste like cardboard; go home to much cheaper bottle of wine and a hot bath.

She'd meant every word at the warehouse. They weren't on the same side. Klaus was ruthless, she'd caught a few glimpses of the hunter that lived under his skin, had watched him execute dirty cops without a flicker of a lash.

But she'd spent hours reading through files and trying to connect paper trails. Between the labs and the warehouse, she knew she had the information she needed. She just couldn't see it. The problem was somehow avoiding her past.

Maybe the key to that was this date nonsense. She couldn't deny there was... something there. Caroline just doubted it was more than Klaus curiosity and the obvious physical attraction. Taking another sip of her wine, she mulled on that. She could eat here, gather information and let Klaus come to the conclusion that there was little more than possibility of sex between them.

Sex they wouldn't be having.

"Fine," Caroline said abruptly. Klaus' head snapped around, blue eyes intent. She held up one finger and stared him down. "You get one date."

His gaze narrowed, the sudden predatory look behind his eyes challenging her in return. "I'm not going to be satisfied with one."

"That's not my problem," Carine said coolly. "You've spent the last week harassing me with flowers and then you sent me that God-awful painting. It's been a long enough week without your dramatics, I don't have a reason to agree to a second date, much less a third. You want more of my time? Make it worth my while."

Klaus smile was sin bracketed by dimples and Caroline knew he was human. She'd run her power along his bones and sinew, had felt herself echo through the long lines of him as she camouflaged them both. But as he canted his head, eyes nearly black with the iron of his challenge, her stomach fluttered with an unexpected and heady mix of arousal and adrenaline.

"Are you sure that's what you want, sweetheart? Because once we start down this path, I'm not backing down."

Caroline took another slow mouthful, ran the wine over her tongue before she shrugged. "We haven't started anything, Klaus. I'm agreeing to a beneficial exchange of information; you're the one requiring this to be framed as a date."

Klaus arched a brow. "I'm not one to hide behind business arrangements when I see something I want, Caroline."

She shrugged. "I'm not hiding. I'm perfectly content to continue as I have, you've hardly made anything else worth my time."

A glittering look that she felt to her bones made her a liar, but she held her composure by a thread. Klaus broke eye contact to reach for plates. "Come make a plate, Caroline. Dinner's ready. You're going to need it."

She set down her wine glance and accepted the china with a shrug. "So you say."

Klaus ran his tongue along his lower lip, smirk firmly in place. "Food first, Caroline; afterwards you can challenge me with your eyes and tongue. I might not always live up to your expectations, but I'll make it worth it."

She ignored the innuendo and hoped she knew what she'd gotten into. Because Klaus was stubborn, and so was she. The odds that this ended in a raging disaster were astronomical.

But as she settled into the intimate little nook he'd directed her too, she caught herself watching him move. Admiring the strength of his forearms and the surprising grace of his hands. She blamed the wine; the deliberately casual environment he'd crafted in his overpriced apartment.

"Bon appetit, love."

Caroline smiled, and met his hunting gaze.

Challenge accepted.

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