Klaroline AU Week Day 6: Canon-ish

Three million dollars. Three million dollars?!

Gingerly stepping through the detritus of human limbs and broken glasses, Caroline didn't bother to hide her disgust at the seedy bar or the lone hybrid she found lurking in it. "Seriously?" she cried as she slid in congealed blood. "Ugh, these are new shoes."

"Put it on my tab, love." Klaus raised his scotch in drunken acknowledgement. "Rebekah complained about giving away her shoe budget to you, it's almost poetic for you to get a pair from the deal."

Caroline scoffed as she cleared his table, plopping down a thick portfolio instead. "About that, if you insist on making ludicrous donations to make up for not visiting your daughter at school, then you better believe I will track you down for investor meetings," she said in clipped tones.

He snorted derisively, only for her to snatch the drink right from his hand. "Careful," he warned, gold glinting in his eyes.

"Oh, bite me." Twice he had bitten her, and yet she survived long enough to run his child's school; her sass was practically bulletproof. Sitting, Caroline opened her portfolio, topped with a recent photo of Hope holding a handmade poster. "Her history project was on the birth of New Orleans, go figure. She misses you, but Hope is a strong kid, if a little stubborn."

Klaus's lips pulled at that, though she could tell he was trying to hide his reaction. "I thought this was supposed to be about my investment."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline decided it would be better just to move things along. Rebekah mentioned the world tour tantrum he was on, but apparently she had underestimated how self-pity manifested after a thousand years. "Before I get into why three million dollars is an excessive donation that in no way buys you special favors or weird requests down the line," she clearly pointed out, softening only at his surprisingly attentive expression, "but thank you. We've had three new students contact us, with more coming every week."

"I know," Klaus smirked, leaning back into his chair. Perfectly at ease among the destruction of his bender, somehow he managed to act superior in his super annoying way.

Caroline frowned disapprovingly. "What did you do?"

He picked through the papers she had in the folder, office invoices and teacher profiles. "One needs a hobby when forcibly removed from home and family," he answered, his voice lacking in real sentiment.

Throwing her hand out in a wide gesture, Caroline pinned him with a glare. "Rampant murder is not a hobby."

"Agree to disagree, love," he shrugged, "but I don't take kindly to threats against my brother." He didn't bother to elaborate, and Caroline didn't really want the details. "Regardless, I meant that in my travels, I occasionally come across a gifted student in need of guidance."

"You're sending them to me?"

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "You did open a school for gifted children."

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, unsure how to respond. On one hand, their accounts were pretty flush to handle the sudden influx of students; on the other… "Stop interfering!" Caroline finally burst out, leaving Klaus to a stony silence.

"Look, this is what I wanted to talk to you about," she sighed.

"What's that?"

Though he seemed genuinely curious underneath a hard edge, Klaus's mood swings could strike like whiplash. Caroline needed to tread carefully. "I want you to be involved with the school, with Hope and her education," she prefaced. "But there has to be a line, Klaus. I can't keep accepting large amounts of money if it also means you going behind my back with schemes that affect the school."

It had been on mind ever since she first got his letter; Mikaelson gifts came with strings. She knew that well as a veteran of throwing diamond bracelets at his feet. "I am grateful for your donation. I just need to make sure we have the proper boundaries in place."

Klaus tilted his head, his eyes roving her form. "Rules are meant to be broken, sweetheart."

"Don't be a jerk." Caroline would likely have a headache from rolling her eyes so much. Extenuating circumstances aside, she had no intention of fraternizing with a parent. "You can have a seat on the board and regular investor meetings, but I will make you regret trying to tell me how to run daily operations."

Shrugging, Klaus lifted a hidden bottle of scotch to his lips. "Agreed. Hayley can have my vote while she resides in Mystic Falls," he capitulated. "As for these meetings, I suppose I can make sure they're in better venues."

Caroline's voice fell to a deadpan, "You think?"

He smirked, looking more content. "Three months seems like a reasonable interval."

"Six."

"Four, final offer."

"Done," she sighed. Seeing him three times a year wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, not if it meant keeping him in touch with Hope's progress.

Nodding, Klaus offered her the bottle, which she happily accepted. "Rome is lovely in April," he said idly.

Rome. Paris. Tokyo.

She shrugged off the old memory, taking a large gulp of scotch instead. Her eyes darted around the room and the carnage that was starting to smell. "You're okay, right?" she asked, a deep worry finally finding its words. "This massacre was about your brother, you haven't lost your mind in a constantly drunken rage."

"Moderation has never been my strong suit."

Snorting, Caroline handed back the bottle. "Rebekah says you get like this every once in a while, figured it would be worse being separated from Hope."

He sighed, looking down. "It's better than I expected," he admitted, "though I suspect that's in large part to you. It helps knowing she's in good hands."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she joked, bumping her shoulder against his. "Hope really is doing great, Klaus. Just, keep in touch. Don't go off the deep end without calling first. Deal?"

"I think that depends on your definition of the deep end." The hand in his lap had wandered to her knee, the warmth of the contact settling them both. "One thing I can promise, though, is that I would never put Hope or the school in danger."

Scoffing again, Caroline elbowed him. "I know that. Not only would I nag you within an inch of your life, but even bajillion-year-old hybrids have standards. But do keep your mitts off my administrative decisions."

Klaus chuckled, "Yes, sweetheart."