klaroline+ "we're undercover and pretending to be engaged/we started off on the wrong foot, but we've come a long way" AU
"What's your ETA?" Klaus' voice blares suddenly in her earpiece and she has to fight every instinct not to jump or show any sign of alarm as she sashays through the hotel foyer.
As a little girl growing up, she never thought she'd end up working in the field for the CIA. Spies and James Bond and blowing stuff up had never interested her, even when she was a teenager and trying to impress the boys.
It was her affinity for languages that had pulled her into the field. She had an eerie ability to pick up languages, and she was now had native fluency in six, and she was aiming for Arabic to be her 7th. She wasn't sure why it was so easy for her to grasp. Call it a super power.
"Two minutes. Cool your jets sweetheart." She replies subtly, ducking her head so that her hair fell in a curtain around her face. Her dress slips like silk over her curls, a gorgeous jade green piece that Klaus had given her after their last successful mission together.
As always, a stunning diamond winks at her from her forth finger on her left hand. Klaus for all of his other faults, actually did have excellent taste.
Her first mission as a field agent had been a joint one with MI6. She'd been introduced to one of their best, Niklaus Mikaelson. Klaus as he'd introduced himself quite rudely might she add, was a seasoned agent that had been working intelligence since he was 18 years old, first as an analyst and then out in the field.
She'd been in complete and total awe of him, until she discovered just how rude he was. They'd had to fake it as a newly engaged couple, and they weren't fooling anybody. In fact the mission went completely haywire, and it wasn't until she'd saved his arrogant ass (and his life), that he even began to show some small measure of respect towards him.
The rest as they say, is history.
She pauses on the threshold of the outdoor restaurant, but it's more for effect than anything else. Physically, her body is banging and she's way more than just a pretty face, but the men that she walks past slowly, sensually, don't have to know that, do they?
Klaus is sitting by the pool, spread out on a deck chair with a phone in his hand, looking every inch like the bored, rich, British assassin that he was. He sits up when she approaches, and then stands, giving her an almost predatory once over that makes her shiver.
They'd given into their attraction to each other, plenty of times. It came with the territory of working in a high risk job. She'd lost count of the times that they'd fucked each other into the mattress after a particularly stressful assignment, and given the sunny locale and the fact that they were right near one of the most gorgeous stretches of beaches in the world, she didn't doubt that it wouldn't happen again tonight.
Klaus pulls her into his body, pressing an urgent kiss to her lips.
"Gorgeous." He breathes out, fingering the fabric of her dress.
She lets herself run her hands over his chest, indulging him for a moment with a quick smile.
"It was a present from someone with exceptionally good taste." Caroline replies with a wink.
"Hmm." Klaus hums, broad hand splayed over her back, marking her like a brand. "And I can't wait to take it off you later when we're done here."
That was Klaus, blunt, and to the point. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment before she's gazing at him clearly.
"Where's the mark and what would you like me to do?"
"Opposite the pool, black shirt, gold chain around the neck?" Klaus murmurs into the skin of her neck as she rolls her head to the side casually. "Record his conversation for me would you?"
She spots the guy right away, he's a little hard to miss.
"Give me something challenging next time." She says with a laugh, unzipping her dress at the back and shrugging out of it in one, graceful movement.
The bikini she's wearing (white and gold), is tasteful and just this side of daring with the french cut bottoms.
Klaus' jaw practically drops when she pushes her sunglasses up her nose, turning away from him and making her way around to the opposite side of the pool.
She settles into the deck chair with a lazy sigh, subtly flicking on the high tech, waterproof recorder nestled in one of the straps of her top. She unfolds a magazine that someone else had left behind and lets technology do the work for her.
And if she purposefully ignores Klaus' heated gaze if only to get him a little more frustrated and worked up, then that's her prerogative.