kc+ "Our suitcases look the same and we accidentally picked up the wrong one at the airport" AU
She taps a heeled foot against the floor of the airport, waiting rather impatiently for her suitcase to be loaded up onto the baggage carousel. It was Christmas, and although she hated the idea of coming back to Mystic Falls and having to see Elena and the insufferable Damon Salvatore, she was looking forward to some downtime with her mom.
Her job as an events planner was hectic, and her clients demanding and over the top. Sometimes she felt like screaming as loud as she could at the top of her lungs and telling them to shut the fuck up, but she knows she gets paid the big bucks to pull off the impossible, so she's going to persevere until she can retire comfortably and buy a place by the ocean.
The baggage carousel starts up with a whirr, and she rubs her hands together in anticipation. She'd forgotten to pack some gloves in her carry on, and she'd forgotten just how chilly winter can get in Virginia.
Her suitcase, a non descript blue samsonite case appears and she pushes through the idiots crowding right next to the carousel, giving it a good yank and pulling it to a clear space.
The suitcase is heavier than what she remembered, but it's happened before. Things get jostled around mid flight, and the weight might be distributed to a certain corner or side of the suitcase.
She shrugs it off, instead making a beeline for the taxi rank, sacrificing her idea of getting gloves in favour of going home.
The taxi driver helps load the suitcase into the trunk of the cab, giving her a strange look as she slides into the backseat.
"Where to Mrs Mikaelson?"
Her head snaps up at that, her eyes narrowing at the driver.
"What did you just call me?" She asks incredulously, because there's a name that she hasn't heard for a few years now.
"The name on your suitcase tag." The driver replies apologetically. "The surname was Mikaelson. I assumed you were sharing a suitcase with your husband."
"Shit." She hisses out between her teeth, wrenching open the back door and waving for the driver to pop the trunk.
She reads over the tag herself, noting that the taxi driver was correct and wasn't fucking around with her just for kicks.
Klaus Mikaelson was her almost. The attraction had both been there for ages, and they'd practically grown up together, her mom good on good terms with Klaus' mom, Esther. They'd almost been in a relationship. They'd almost fallen into bed together.
He was the one that got away. He was her almost.
He's left a number scrawled on the tag next to his name, and she has to clamp down on the nerves as she dials it into her iPhone.
It rings twice before his voice is echoing in her ear, low and melodic. It's the ultimate sense of nostalgia, hearing the familiar tone.
"Caroline Forbes I presume?"
"I have your suitcase." She blurts out, face turning pink when he chuckles.
"Yes and it would see I have yours. I was most surprised when I opened it to find the bright pink socks that I most certainly didn't pack."
"Well I wouldn't judge you even if you had. Are you visiting for Christmas?"
"I am sweetheart. I'm assuming you're here for the same reason?" Klaus' tone is light, casual. She can almost picture him tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder, fingers toying with a glass of bourbon.
"Yeah, spending time with my mom. How about we meet up, trade suitcases? I'll buy you a drink as a way of saying sorry for stealing your luggage."
Klaus laughs again, and she can't help but smile at the sound. As much as she'd tried to leave everything about home behind her, him included, it was good to hear his voice again.
"Perfect. How about you come to the Grill? If you can remember where that is." Klaus says teasingly, even as she rolls her eyes, slamming the trunk and sliding back into the taxi.
She rattles off the address to the driver, bringing the phone up to her ear once more.
"I'll be there soon." She promises. "And Klaus?"
Klaus makes a soft noise as a way of reply, and she pauses before speaking again.
"It'll be really nice to see you."