AN: Prompt for this one was that Klaus and Caroline both worked in the wedding industry and both were in demand. The two start working together, get talking, and take bets on how long each couple would last.
This is a disaster!" She bites out, throwing her hands up in frustration. "It's three days before the biggest wedding of possibly my career and the photographer just gets sick with pneumonia and pulls out? Who even does that?"
Stefan smiles at her mildly as he goes back to arranging the flowers into bunches that will decorate the ends of the pews. He's the best of the best, and more than willing to put up with her particular brand of crazy when she gets going.
"The guy has pneumonia Caroline. It's not like he's just calling in sick for the hell of it."
She sighs, slumping down into one of the wicker chairs scattered around the Salvatore floristry.
"I know." She replies, massaging her temples, trying to get rid of the tension headache that likes to spring up at moments like these.
"I know a guy." Stefan volunteers cautiously. "He's not done many weddings, but he's fantastic at portraits. Should I arrange a meeting?"
She rolls her head to the side to look at Stefan.
"Honestly, at this point in time I'll take anything."
"That's the spirit. You'll like Nik, I promise. I'll give him a call and see if he's available. Perhaps it would be best if you went down to his studio to meet him in person. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to take you through his portfolio."
"Make it happen." She replies curtly as Stefan raises a single eyebrow. "Please?"
"She's hammering furiously on the heavy wooden door that Stefan had directed her to the very next morning.
There's a crash from the other side of the door and the sound of swearing, and she takes a giant step back as the door swings open suddenly, a very sleep rumpled yet gorgeous man blinking back at her in surprise.
"Caroline Forbes?" He voices uncertainly as she tries not to stare at his bare chest. It's an impressive sight, sue her.
"Yes. I realise it's a little early in the morning…"
"It's 6:30am." He cuts over her a little incredulously. "I thought you were coming in mid morning."
"Something came up. Do you mind?" She replies, watching him as he steps back from the doorway, sweatpants hanging from his hips as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly.
"Not at all. Let me get some coffee brewing and I'll take you through whatever you want to see." He calls over his shoulder, trusting her to close the door behind them.
The loft space that Niklaus Mikaelson lives in is impressive, all open plan, brick walls, and floor to ceiling windows to let in the natural light. It's about twice the size of her apartment.
Wire loops across the space, and she has to duck to avoid all of the photographs weighing down the line. Klaus bends down to pick up a shirt from the back of the lounge, pulling it quickly over his head and moving into the kitchen.
"These are really impressive." She compliments him, fingering one of the many photos, taking note of the naturally lit landscape.
"Just a small sample of what I do." He promises with a tired smile in her direction. She immediately feels bad for interrupting his sleep.
She accepts the mug of coffee he hands to her, following him to a corner of the loft that holds a sleek Mac computer. Klaus sips at his coffee as he waits for the computer to hum to life, clicking through the many folders he has on the desktop until he's found what he wanted to show her.
"I haven't done many weddings I'm afraid." He begins, echoing Stefan's words from earlier. "But the ones I've done gave me some great feedback."
He rolls his desk chair to the side, letting her bend down and click through the images herself.
She can tell right away that he carefully considers every image he takes. There's a lot of things at play here; the lighting, the contrast of colours, the energy and mood of the bridal party.
Every shot is gorgeous, and the way he manages to convey happiness and joy through the lens of his camera is a rare talent to have. She's never seen anything like it.
She takes the time to sip at her own coffee, relishing the bitter taste and the fact that she hadn't had a chance to pick up her own regular order on the way here.
"How come you don't do weddings very often?" She asks curiously, because he has a rare talent and if she'd known that he was around she would've been knocking down his door a lot sooner than this morning.
Klaus shrugs, draining his mug and setting it to the side.
"It's a hard market to break into."
She holds out a hand for him. He reaches out and shakes it once, a curious smile on his face.
"Consider it broken. I'll see you tomorrow, 8:30 at this address." She hands him a slip of paper.
"Until then sweetheart."
"Well that went a lot better than I thought it would." Klaus murmurs the next evening as they watch the happy couple sway back and forth on the dancefloor to their chosen first song.
She leans against the wall, head lolling towards him.
"You're an absolute godsend Mikaelson. Really. Thankyou. I owe you one."
"The pleasure was all mine. I had fun today." He answers with a quick smile as he snaps a photo of the couple.
So had she, she suddenly realises. She's usually pretty calm on wedding days, as a planner she sort of has to be. It's her job after all. But having Klaus there had made things different this time.
He had an infectious sort of enthusiasm when he dealt with the bride and her friends, and it bubbled over, her mood lifting just by being in the same room as him.
She hadn't felt like that for a long time. Considering the divorce rate, she'd become sort of jaded about the whole wedding thing. Did she enjoy it? Yes she did. She'd always had a knack for planning and pulling together events. Did she believe in the whole marriage thing? Not really.
"How long do you think they'll last?" She asks of him as the groom twirls the bride around and around.
Klaus cocks his head to the side, looking at her curiously, like it's the last thing he was expecting to hear out of her mouth. He glances back at the couple, weighing his answer in his mind.
"Six months, give or take a couple of weeks. The bride didn't seem particularly thrilled this morning. Your guess?"
"I give it eight and a half months. I agree with you, but I think she'll try and make the effort to stay in the marriage."
Klaus slings his camera around his neck, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Is this something you usually do?" He asks mildly, no judgement in his tone.
"Only on special occasions. You should get a little closer, it's a great angle to shoot from."
She watches as he drifts away, making a mental note to keep track of him and what he's doing.
She needs him on her payroll.
"Fancy seeing you here love." An accented voice echoes from behind her as she turns suddenly on her heel.
"Oh thank god you're here." She breathes, grabbing him by the hand and towing him into the church behind her. "It's been an absolute nightmare to deal with."
He chuckles as they walk down the aisle together, joining the rest of the wedding party at the front of the church.
"Elena, this is Klaus MIkaelson, your wedding photographer. Klaus, this is Elena Gilbert, our lovely bride to be."
Of course, she's lying through her teeth, Elena had been an absolute nightmare to deal with. Changing flower arrangements at the last moment, calling her at all hours of the night, she'd had to refrain from telling the girl to chill the fuck out and let her handle things.
There's bridezillas, and then there's Elena fucking Gilbert.
"A pleasure." Klaus smiles toothily, fingering the strap of his camera.
Damon Salvatore steps forward, holding out his hand for Klaus to shake.
"Nice meeting you man. Thanks for doing this. We appreciate it's outside of your normal duties."
Technically it was, but Elena had wanted Klaus there to run through everything with them, to ensure that he wouldn't be in the way when he was taking photographs inside the church.
Much later, when Elena finally releases them all, Klaus falls into step beside her, elbow knocing against hers.
"You're unflappable love. I don't know how you do it."
She sighs, running a hand through her hair as she pulls the heavy doors of the church shut behind them.
"To be honest, it's the pay check that gets me through it."
Klaus acknowledges this with a tilt of the head.
"All the same, I need some hard liquor after that. Care to join me?"
They end up in a seedy dive bar two streets over, and Klaus lines up a row of shots on the table between them.
It's a good night, they swap horror stories and funny anecdotes over a game of pool, the conversation easy and flowing.
It's when the clock strikes midnight that she comes to her sense, poking a finger at Klaus' broad chest and telling him that they both have to be up early tomorrow.
He agrees with a laugh, slinging an arm over her shoulder and sharing a taxi with her to make sure she gets home okay.
He walks her to her door and presses a gentle kiss to her cheek, and she resists the urge to curl her hand into his shirt and tug him into her apartment with her.
As much as she wants to, she is 100% not going to go there.
She'd been watching him all day. It had been extremely hard not to, he cut such a striking figure in the slate grey suit, hair swept artfully over his forehead. If it hadn't been for his camera and the satchel slung over his shoulder, he would've blended right in with the rest of the society guests.
It's another big wedding, no expenses spared. She'd had Stefan on board again, and her eyes had widened when she'd been given the million dollar budget.
As if sensing her gaze Klaus turns, lips quirking into a smile. He manoeuvres his way through the crowd, snatching two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.
She accepts the alcohol gratefully.
"Another success on your hands it would seem sweetheart." He murmurs as he sips at his own glass.
"No thanks to you, the best photographer in town." She replies playfully, elbowing him with a smile.
"No no. This is all you. Dance with me?" He asks lightly, draining his glass and holding out one hand for her.
She takes it, and he deposits his gear on a seat, a guest promising to keep an eye on it for them. Who would want to take it anyway?
She lets Klaus pull her into his arms, one hand settling on her waist as they sway along to the soft Ed Sheeran song.
"Can I ask you a question?" Klaus asks quietly, steering them around an older couple staring adoringly into each other's eyes.
"Sure. I suppose we've reached that part of the night after all."
"Why do you do all of this?" Klaus asks, waving his hand to encompass their surroundings. "If you hate it so much? You seem so jaded about everything."
She stops dancing, and he lets her step away.
"Sorry." She shakes her head, backing away further from him. "It's not something I want to talk about.
She runs and he lets her.
"His name was Tyler." She begins speaking before he's even fully closed the door to one of the many drawing rooms scattered around the mansion.
Klaus doesn't say anything in reply, simply leans against the wooden door and waits for her to continue.
She presses one hand up against the window, other hand clenched into a fist by her side.
"We were engaged to be married, and everything seemed to be going okay for once. His parents loved me, my parents actually approved, and I was so caught up with planning my own wedding."
She takes a deep breath, finally turning to face Klaus, who still hadn't moved from his spot against the door.
"And then I found out that the girl he'd been screwing was pregnant with his child. His parents were so furious, but knew that our wedding would have to be called off so that he could do right by her and marry her. And just like that, with a snap of the fingers I was single again."
"Sweetheart." Klaus begins, taking a few steps towards her. She holds up a hand to silence him.
"I don't want your pity." She takes a deep breath and continues. "I've always like event planning. And if I couldn't get my dream wedding, at least I can give someone else theirs. I guess I just don't believe in love anymore."
"That's a shame. Because I believe in you." Klaus replies, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.
It's soft and sweet and slow and lazy, the way their lips move against each other, and soon she's pushing him down onto the nearest lounge, straddling his lap and kissing him once more.
His hands burn along her waist like a brand, and she tugs at his tie insistently as he breaks their kiss.
"Come home with me tonight." He breathes into her skin as he nips gently at the column of her throat.
"Hmm I don't know." She replies with a laugh, walking her fingers along his shoulder. "What are you offering?"
His hand settles at the small of her back, the other settling on her thigh.
"I can promise a warm bed and someone to share it with, and breakfast and coffee in the morning."
"Anything else?" She asks coyly, grinding her hips down into his.
He leans forward, whispering something filthy into her ear. She leans back, staring at him, taking in his mischievous smile.
"You've got yourself a deal."