Here is Chapter Four!

Caroline stared moodily at the glowing elevator buttons. It was half past one, she'd been forced to cancel her lunch meeting and send Katherine instead. If she'd known she'd be touring a venue for three hours she'd have worn different shoes. Dreaming of the flats in her desk drawer as well as her stash of peanut m&m's, she adjusted her bag with determination and marched past reception.

"Ma'am?"

Caroline paused, shifting her weight as best she could to stay off her toes. "Yes?"

"Your two o'clock is early and Katherine suggested he go in."

She blinked stupidly. "My two o'clock?"

April, their generally unflappable receptionist, blushed. "Yes ma'am."

Praying for patience she didn't have, she headed for her office. Teeth set, she glared at Katherine's closed door as she caught the scent of food. Promising herself something amazing for dinner, she opened her door with a smile plastered on and froze.

Klaus was standing at her window, hands shoved into a pair of suit pants that fit him beautifully, the stark white of his dress shirt showcasing the lingering tan from summer months; sleeves rolled to nearly his elbows. He'd apparently forgone a tie and his suit jacket was tossed over a chair. Klaus in a tux was devastating, this man in a tailored suit just rumpled made her want to do dirty things.

She shut the door as he turned, and the cutting remark died on her tongue as she looked at the wall that had once housed the monstrosity he'd purchased and hung on her wall as a lure. Instead, a beautiful landscape that blended into the aesthetics of her office graced her wall. The coloring and brush strokes reminded her of the art she'd covertly admired at Klaus' mansion and later, his penthouse.

"You look tired."

Her eyes jumped back to Klaus, and he tilted his head in consideration. For a single second, she nearly let herself be made uncomfortable by his presence and pushed it aside.

"Some of us have day jobs," Caroline responded pertly, walking to her desk to deposit her briefcase. "Why are you here?"

"You said you'd be in touch," Klaus said with a shrug. "I decided five days was long enough. I brought an apology."

"Is that what this is?" She let her lips purse, tried not to shift her weight as her feet throbbed. She leaned her hip against her desk to take her weight and eyed him. "Do you want a thank you?"

His lashes lowered, heat and mischief making her nerves buzz. His gaze lingered on her lips for three deliberate heartbeats before he met her eyes. "Well, that depends, love. If we argue, will you let me make it up to you like last time?"

Her stomach jumped and she kept her expression even with a great deal of willpower. She would not think of that kiss. She would not.

Caroline glanced back at the painting, let her gaze linger in the hopes the blush crawling up her throat would fade. After a moment, she risked a glance in his direction, and sidestepped his comment. "What did you do with the other painting?"

"It's been donated to a nice museum," Klaus said, amusement in his gaze. For a moment, they stared at each other. She broke her gaze to glance back at the canvas, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

"Do you like it?" Klaus murmured, coming to stand next to her. "You seemed to enjoy similar work when you were in my home."

She glanced at him, caught her breath at the heat in his gaze. "Did you bug it?"

His lips curved, but Klaus didn't break their gaze. "I was tempted, but as always, I'd rather you come to me. How long are you going to keep avoiding me, Caroline?"

Caroline compressed her lips and she glanced away. "My staff are going to get the wrong idea if you keep this up."

"Let me take you on an actual date, and they'd get the right idea." Klaus countered, eyes narrowed.

"I agreed to a single date," she replied, straightening to eye him. "I think I met that obligation over dinner at your place."

"That wasn't a date," Klaus returned just as easily, stepping into her personal space. She held her ground, heels putting her nearly at eye level with him, the height difference negligible like this. "There was wine, and food, but you were there because I baited you into it. Because we have a mutual concern and we needed to talk. A date, Caroline, would be you and me, intimacy."

She froze as he leaned in, eyes intent. "Klaus…"

"Do I tempt you at all, Caroline?" He reached up and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. "Because when I look at you, I see possibilities. I want to explore that, us. But it means nothing if you aren't interested as well."

She breathed in shakily and pulled away, ignoring the way his gaze darkened. "It's not that easy."

A quirk of his lips, and he turned on his heel, pausing only to grasp his jacket. "Of course it is, love. Either you want to see where this goes or you do not. I'm not a man to endlessly throw myself onto a pyre. If this is something you want, let me know."

She opened her mouth, started to call him back and bit her lip instead. The door to her office closed, and she ran her hand over her face with a sigh. Sitting, she toed off her heels and opened her drawer to find her flats. She froze as she took in the new, ridiculously colored slippers, running one fingertip over the fuzzy softness.

She nearly stood and ran after him, but her eye caught an envelope tucked next to her phone. Her name was there in precise, block print and she opened it carefully. A ticket to the ballet this weekend fell out, along with a note.

'Give me a chance.'

Caroline dropped her head into her hands and quietly cursed.

Caroline slipped her heels back on with a grimace and ignored the narrow eyed way Klaus tracked her movements. As much as she absolutely hated to admit it, the wine and food had gone a long way to easing her headache. Klaus had been an unexpectedly easy going dinner companion, only shifting into the more serious topics once she'd slowed down.

It was a courtesy she hadn't expected.

"Let me call my car around."

"No," she replied as she turned to face him. She lifted her phone and wiggled it. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own cab, thank you."

"Must you be so difficult?"

"Yup." She opened the door, tilted her head. "Thank you for dinner, but if you bait and switch me again, you'll regret it."

Amusement colored Klaus' gaze. "Of course, love."

She eyed him for a moment, before walking out. She didn't expect him to follow her, matching her strides until she reached for the down button for the elevator. She turned with a sigh, lips parting to ask what he wanted now when he bent his head and his lips brushed hers.

She felt the impact of it down to her toes.

"Rise and shine, gorgeous!"

Caroline rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. "Go away."

Enzo laughed at her from the other side of the door and obnoxiously knocked. "Good morning, Caroline. Did you sleep well? Did you sleep?"

Caroline groaned, cracking open one eye to glare at him, dawn just peeking through her curtains. "Enzo, why are you being mean?"

"Mean? This is hardly mean, gorgeous. Mean would be calling to tell Kat you've been pacing the last two nights, and that you're not even getting your usual miniscule amounts of sleep. She'd break the espresso machine and take your stash of instant."

"Oh God, why are you even bringing that up?" Caroline demanded as she sat up and glared at him. She didn't do well with caffeine deprivation and Katherine meant serious business when she cut Caroline off. "We agreed to never bring that up again."

"Uh huh. Here's the deal. I've got coffee and that breakfast casserole you like in the oven. Our options this morning are you tell me what's going on over food or I call Kat."

"Its Saturday and still dark outside," she whined.

"And I have shift in two hours, so it's now or never," Enzo informed her with a smile. "Me or Kat, sweetcheeks."

"I hate you."

"You've got ten minutes till food is done," Enzo said as he shut the door. "Coffee, Caroline."

True to his word, as she staggered into the kitchen wearing sweats and an oversized sweater, glaring at him, Enzo sat a plate in front of her. He was silent as they ate and Caroline was grateful for the reprieve. She usually liked mornings, preferring to get an early start to the day even after her late night hobbies. But this was not one of those mornings, a near sleepless week leaving her irritable.

"Kat told me you've been getting visits from a certain billionaire. And presents. Lots of presents." Enzo said finally, arching one brow. "Flowers, art - fuzzy slippers."

Caroline slouched in her chair. "There weren't that many presents."

"Uh huh," he let the words drawl, not bothering to hide his disbelief. "I know that you've been stressed with what's going on with your second, less legal job, but what's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's complicated," Caroline muttered.

Enzo tapped the table and she looked at him. His smile was wry, amusement clear on his face. "Finding out your best friend is a mutant with a militia past, that's complicated. Emotions, they're just annoying, but a lot simpler than you think."

Caroline fiddled with her fork. "I don't know, Enzo, I'm a mess. I've got trust issues, commitment issues, paranoia…"

"Don't I know it. I was on the receiving end of that unfortunate pepper spray incident," Enzo reminded. "And I'm still here. If he can't handle that, he doesn't deserve you. How much does he know? Have you mentioned your built in camo?"

She hesitated. It wasn't her place to tell Enzo or Kat about Klaus' nighttime hobby but… "He knows I'm a mutant. But I haven't… He gave me tickets to the ballet. I didn't go."

Enzo winced, leaned back. "Did you tell him why?"

She studied the table cloth carefully. Shook her head no. Enzo made a disbelieving noise.

"Look, gorgeous, I'm not going to tell you how you should feel about Klaus Mikaelson of all people, particularly when we both know our illustrious Mayor is up to his eyeballs in crime. Step-dad or no, that's going to be a touch tricky. But it's obvious you feel something, or this wouldn't bother you. You've been pacing at all hours, overworking and skipping past, it doesn't mean you can't be happy now."

She glanced up at him. "What, you think Klaus can make me happy?"

"You know how I feel about depending on other people for happiness. Leads to nothing but trouble," Enzo pulled a face. "And whether or not Klaus is someone who's worth the effort and risk of a relationship, that's up to you. But Caroline, you can't expect him to be okay with staying in the dark about things. Not if he's serious about you… is he serious?"

"I should've told him about my hang up with the ballet," she admitted, dodging his last question. "But I just… what if he decides I'm not worth it?"

"Smarter men have done stupider things," Enzo said with a rueful shrug. He glanced at the clock and stood, depositing his plate among the dishes in the sink. "No matter what happens, Kat and I, we're here for you. But gorgeous, life is about risks. Some of them are unfortunately emotional."

Caroline fixed herself a second cup of coffee, and stared at the tile floor. She hated it when Enzo was right. Hated it more, when she'd fucked up. Rubbing her face, she sighed.

Klaus scared her.

Not the vigilante, but Klaus. The man who cooked barefoot and went toe to toe with her, and wouldn't let her hide. She'd have been able to brush off that attraction, keep everything as strictly business if he hadn't kissed her.

Her fingers lifted to her lips, pressed lightly. God, he hadn't made any pretenses about wanting her with that kiss. Whatever lies she'd tried to tell herself about their physical attraction they'd burned to ash with the first brush of his mouth. And she'd run.

She owed Klaus an apology; possibly an explanation. Which meant she was going to have to face him on his territory. Again.

Dammit.

Caroline fidgeted in the elevator. Studying her appearance didn't help, as she'd decided to go casual for this. She was regretting that decision, not because she felt the need to impress him, but because her sneakers gave Klaus a height advantage she wasn't used to.

She was terrified of letting him through her walls, but she was willing to try.

If she hadn't screwed it up.

Smoothing down her thin sweater, Caroline rang the doorbell and chewed on her lower lip. The doorman had assured her that Klaus was home, offering her a knowing smile. She ignored that, because she couldn't think about what it meant that he was still in town instead of retreating to his manor. She wasn't silly enough to think it had to do with her, but she hadn't seen anything to suggest vigilante movements either.

The door finally opened and she froze at the sight of Klaus. He was wearing those damn jeans, but this Henley was faded, splattered with paint. The same shades of golds that were on his knuckles and streaked across one cheekbone.

"You paint?"

The words were blurted between them, and she nearly flinched at the sound of her own voice. His irritation and surprise flickered into something like confusion before Klaus' face smoothed out. When he spoke, his voice showed none of his surprise, just a polite coolness.

"Caroline. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She probably deserved the clipped tones, so she let them go. Instead she held up the ticket she'd brought with her. His gaze flickered over, eyes dark when he returned to her face. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Klaus pressed his shoulder against the door jamb, stared at her with hard eyes. "I'd have thought your avoidance was enough of a discussion."

"My dad liked ballet," she told him bluntly. "He enrolled me in classes almost as soon as I could walk. Thought it'd teach me discipline, and keep me from being a klutz."

Confusion crinkled his forehead. "I don't follow. What does this have to do with me?"

Caroline swallowed, stomach muscles tightening to steady her. "When I was fifteen I killed him."

His eyes went flat, jaw tensing. She tried not to let her chin wobble, and breathed deeply to find her center and shrugged one shoulder. "I haven't really managed to dance or watch a show since, and I…"

Her words died as he straightened. The sudden intensity of his eyes, the sharpness of his cheekbones had her words trailing off. "Christ, Caroline. What happened?"

"He tried to kill me," she whispered. "So I killed him first."

Klaus closed his eyes and then stepped to the side. "I think we're going to need some privacy for this discussion, sweetheart. And whiskey."

Hesitantly, she stepped inside. During the day, the apartment was filled with sunshine and just as oddly inviting. It smelled like him, and had the faintest hint of the paint he wore on his skin. She toed off her shoes and watched as Klaus walked to the bar, pouring an amber liquid into two tumblers. He motioned her into the area with the couches.

"What happened?"

She accepted the whiskey and took a tentative sip. It burned, but it was bracing. Licking her lips, she glanced out the windows. She'd decided on her way over, that she owed him answers. She wasn't certain that she was capable of giving Klaus what he wanted emotionally, but she could give him her truths.

Klaus was right, that secrets wouldn't help them now. She'd could've kept most of it to herself, but Enzo had been right too, as much as it galled her. She did feel something for Klaus and avoiding it hadn't done her any good. It was time to try a different approach.

"My dad was part of the anti-mutant movements," Caroline told the skyline. She'd only ever told Enzo and Kat this story, and she'd been very drunk. "My mutation manifested early, well before puberty; I think we were playing hide and seek. Dad kept it from my mom. It took about a year, but he finagled a divorce and sole custody."

"How?"

She shook her head, tried not to think about the careful neutrality of his tone. "Mom didn't know. I don't either. What I do know is that he'd decided that my particular mutation was useful. I make a perfect assassin."

"Caroline," Klaus bit her name out, as his tumbler hit the table.

She couldn't manage to look at him. "I grew up in militia camps. He kept what I was very quiet, made sure I didn't talk about it. I had tutors and rarely interacted with other children, and it wasn't until I was a little older that I understood what was going on. I found out about the mutants. Saw what they were doing to their bodies and.."

Her voice cracked, and she took another hasty sip.

"Caroline."

Klaus' voice was low and rough, and she finally glanced at him. There was no pity, but anger stained his cheekbones red. His gaze burned against her skin, but there was no condemnation. She tightened her grip on her glass.

"Ballet?"

"Sometimes I get flashbacks."

His jaw tightened. "The art warehouse?"

She startled, not realizing she'd made such an impression that night. "Bill - my dad - used to use art to hide their dealings. Sometimes bodies. I haven't linked Bill to Mikael yet, but.."

His eyes studied her. "You think there's a connection."

"Yes."

His eyes slid shut, and she watched him reign himself in. Klaus ran his hands through his hair and he took a deep breath. Took half a step closer to her before catching himself. "Mikael has had ties to the anti-mutant groups in the past. He had Kol tested, numerous times, to see if his love of computers was a gift."

Caroline blinked at him, licking her lips. "Gift?"

Klaus' eyes were serious as he held hers. "Gift. Kol is outrageously normal, if you consider his brain to be normal; would having an affinity for computers to be a mutation have made that brilliance less? Mikael distanced himself from some of his more flamboyant cronies when he ran for mayor. Your experiences sound more like a black market."

"I haven't been able to find enough pieces to track it," Caroline admitted. She set her glass down and sighed, glancing back out the windows. "I know they are still out there, hunting. But I can't find them."

"Why push me out?"

She glanced at him warily and his lips quirked.

"Regardless of my pursuit of you, Caroline, it's hardly a secret between us that I want to take Mikael down. Why not leverage that?"

"Because I won't use you in that way," she said firmly. "God knows that discussing my past isn't something I enjoy, and I think it's pretty clear how far I go to avoid it. But using people because I'm a coward?"

He took three steps, planted his hands on either side of her and glared down at her. "Coward? The girl who tackled and cuffed me to a drain pipe, the woman who brushed off being shot, and who hunts through heavily defended labs and warehouses despite men being very willing to kill her?"

Caroline chewed on her lip, glanced away before flicking her gaze back to his. His eyes were dark with things she couldn't read, gaze intent. Swallowing, she shrugged. "That was just me, though; I was the only one at risk. And I am a coward, emotionally. I'm sorry, that I hurt you."

His fingers pushed a wisp of hair away from her cheek. "I survived."

"So," she said hesitantly, tongue snaking nervously across her lips. It was hard, not to fidget, when his gaze never wavered. "Do you… maybe want to grab lunch? There's a diner…"

Those careful fingertips moved to cup her jaw, and something hot turned his gaze vibrant. For a moment, he just looked at her, before the edges of his lips curling, just hinting at his dimples. "Just to be clear, Caroline, you're asking me out. On a date."

"Yes," she affirmed, letting her gaze narrow slightly in challenge. "Of course, this is dependent on your preference for fries vs onion rings."

"Is that so?"

"Yup," she said loftily, even as her eyes watched him warily. "Yes or no?"

"Give me a few minutes to clean up, sweetheart, and we'll go wherever you want." Klaus stepped back, hands sliding to his pockets, head tilting as he studied her. "I'm not going to be so easily pushed aside after this, Caroline."

"You call the last few weeks easy?"

He smiled and turned, sauntering in the direction of the bedrooms. "As long as you understand."

Caroline hoped she understood. Because this might blow up in her face, but if this last week had taught her anything it was that she missed him. For the first time in her life, she had a chance with someone who she didn't have to shield from her past.

If she could just stay out of her own way.

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