For Klaroline Infinity + AU/AH - Day 1 - All my offerings will be NOLA themed (for obvious reasons) I hope you enjoy this!

A talented artist desperate for inspiration finds it in a beautiful blonde but realises there is more to her than he ever expected.

"There is a house in New Orleans...and it's been the ruin of many a poor boy and god I know I'm one."

March 4, 1993

French Quarter, New Orleans: Royal Street

The night was surprisingly warm this time of year as Klaus weaved his way through the busy streets of the French Quarter. He'd been holed up in his studio all day and needed to clear his head. His exhibition was opening in a few days and he'd been working hurriedly to finalise his artwork in time. Unfortunately he was still missing his final showcase piece, his inspiration well and truly spent.

Klaus wearily took in his surroundings. Hoardes of people crowded the sidewalks, the aroma of creole food lingered in the air and the sound of jazz wafted from the many, small bars dotted along the street. The atmosphere was always so lively no matter the time of day and one of the reasons he had made it his home after leaving London five years earlier. Klaus had heard the stories of their vibrant arts scene and was eager to contribute.

It hadn't taken long for the owner at the local Gallery on Jackson Square to single out his talent and commission some paintings which were hung in pride of place only to gain the attention of wealthy New Orleans' residents who too wanted their own Klaus Mikaelson original. Now here he was showing his latest work. The exhibition had been much hyped with a number of buyers heading into town specially for the occasion. Klaus only hoped he could complete his final offering in time and live up to all the building expectation.

He heard a melodic giggle and looked over to its source, his breath hitching in his throat. She was beautiful. Her blonde waves were flowing across her back, her blue eyes were shining excitedly as she spoke with one of the street vendors. Suddenly Klaus realised he needed to know this woman, his feet moving on autopilot towards her.

Dressed in a fitted, white sundress and pearl accessories, she looked absolutely luminous in the dimly lit street. She wasn't the type you usually came across in New Orleans given its reputation and the fact she seemed so innocent as she graciously took the beignets in his outstretched hands was telling. With one last glance she walked away purposefully towards the direction of the Mississippi. Klaus couldn't help himself, instinctively following her lithe figure as those hips swayed in time with the slight breeze. Maybe he'd finally found his muse.

"Are you following me or something?" She enquired, turning around suddenly and surprising Klaus, the remaining beignets in her hand falling onto the pavement in the process. He didn't mean to come across so strange but she'd hypnotised him unwittingly and he wasn't quite sure how to react at first. He wasn't one to be stuck for words either but this blonde certainly had the power to do it. "The least you could do is answer given you've been following me for three blocks now."

"Actually, it was only two," he shared.

"You're really going to argue with me given I just caught you stalking me?" She asked, hands on her hips questioningly. She looked beautiful in the moonlight but Klaus figured that was just her default setting.

"What can I say, I'm a stickler for details."

"You may be a stickler for details but you just ruined my beignets," she shot back, gesturing to the pastry and white, icing sugar spread on the street. "I don't take too kindly to people depriving me of sweets."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, I tend to get quite angry without a sugar fix," she huffed. Klaus couldn't miss just how adorable she looked pretending to be outraged but secretly amused. "You better have a good explanation for allowing these to be wasted."

"Well," he stumbled briefly, trying to block out just how beautiful she looked staring him down. "I'm an artist and it looks like I found my muse."

"Seriously? Do you say that to all the girls?" She snorted. "And does it actually work?"

"If there were other girls then maybe, but you're my first," he replied confidently. "I assure you that I take the discovery of my muse very seriously."

"I have to admit that's one line I've never heard and I've been the recipient of many in my time."

"I have only the most pure of intentions, miss. If you'd be willing to pose for me then I could make you see that."

"If I'm naked right?" She scoffed, her blue eyes rolling as she said it. "I've known plenty of men just like you."

"Well, I'm not most men," he reiterated. Klaus loved women, infact he'd bedded many but she was so very different and Klaus knew she wasn't like anyone he'd ever met before. "My motives are purely professional."

"Well, as admirable as that sounds, how about you take my likeness from afar as I walk away and seek out another beignet," she quipped. Before he could reply and offer to replace her baked goods, she'd walked away into the night, those hips wiggling hypnotisingly as she did. Klaus rushed back to his studio hoping that he could paint her from such a fleeting memory.

Chartres Street

Klaus placed the finishing touches on his latest painting, perusing it critically. Dressed in white, she had her back to him. Her blonde waves were hanging down her back as she sauntered through the French Quarter and retreated towards the Mississippi. Although those facial features and expressions were burned into his memory, Klaus wished to retain some anonymity. Plus, call him greedy but Klaus kind of wanted her blue eyes and pink lips to himself, even if he was never going to see her again.

"Is it safe to come inside or are you still being a moody sod?" Kol whined by way of a greeting. It had been two days and Klaus had barely moved from his canvas, desperate to do her image justice. At the end of the day he figured that was more important than showering, eating or sleeping.

"Oh come on you know I only save my grouchiness just for you, little brother," he joked, turning around and finally tearing his eyes away from his muse.

"Someone's in a good mood."

"What gave it away?"

"You attempted a little joke, Niklaus," he shot back, taking a seat on a nearby chair. "Although I'm starting to regret my decision about coming inside now," Kol muttered, holding his fingers to his nose. "When was the last time you had a shower or changed your clothing for that matter?"

"Um.."

"The fact you need to think about that speaks volumes," he groaned. "I hope you're planning on showering before tomorrow night's opening?"

"Yes, Rebekah," Klaus growled, thinking he sounded much more like their bossy, younger sister.

"I can't believe you've summonsed the witch to New Orleans for this exhibition opening. What did I ever do to you, Niklaus?"

"She invited herself in true Rebekah fashion," Klaus offered.

"If only she wasn't still in London like Elijah, why did she have to move so close and shatter our solace?"

"No doubt to keep an eye on us from New York City, Kol. So, what do you think?" He asked turning his easel slightly so Kol could see his latest work from the perfect viewing angle.

"Wow," he whistled appreciatively. "Looks like someone found some inspiration. Who's the mystery broad?"

"Just someone I saw walking around the quarter," he replied dismissively, trying to ignore his brother's terminology. This woman was anything but a broad. She was a beautiful, witty and confident woman. Not that he wished to discuss his mystery muse with Kol given his big mouth in these parts. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"I manage a bar, Niklaus, my hours aren't always consistent." Kol had moved over from London a year earlier. Klaus would pretend that he was heavily inconvenienced by it but secretly liked having his brother for company, even if he was completely wayward and immature at times. Currently he was managing the Black Cat Room on Bourbon Street which was owned by Klaus' good friends Marcel Gerard and Enzo St John.

"Marcel tells me you've been quite conscientious at work. It wouldn't have anything to do with the new lead singer by chance?"

"For someone who lives in his studio all the time, I'm surprised you even know the jazz bar has a new act playing."

"I hear things. Sounds like someone's avoiding the question."

"Oh like you and your mystery muse?" He accused. "Bonnie Bennett might be beautiful and alluring but I can assure you I am being quite professional when it comes to her."

"Wow, you must really like her if you're acting professional," Klaus chuckled. If Kol was anything it certainly wasn't professional, there was more to this Bonnie than he was admitting.

"I think you need some sleep as well as a shower," he growled in response. "So, does this mean now all the long hours of painting are finally over we can go out for a little fun, big brother?"

"I'm plenty fun," he argued.

"If that's the case then I'd really like you to define fun," he snorted. "Apparently there is much fun to be had at the House of the Rising Sun."

"The what?"

"That's right you've been living in your cave for the past few months and would have no idea about the latest attraction to hit the French Quarter," he quipped. "It's the newest place to lose yourself."

"Lose yourself?"

"With the finest woman of your choice."

"A brothel?" Klaus scoffed. "This isn't the first time an illegal establishment has tried to penetrate the French Quarter and it won't be the last. The New Orleans police will have it shut down in weeks."

"It's not a brothel," Kol replied.

"Well, what's so new about it then?"

"It's a burlesque club but also offers escorts."

"So, someone comes in and sees a show and then chooses a scantily clad woman of his choice to accompany him falsely to an event to make him look good," he muttered. "Sounds like such fun. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to take that shower you insisted upon."

Jefferson Square

Klaus always considered himself a confident person but standing in the art gallery before the opening he had to admit he was worried. Worried that no one would come and that nobody would buy his work. The work he'd spent months on, if not years. What if they didn't like his art? It was something that plagued him, always had especially since his domineering and at times abusive father had told him he was no good.

He didn't have to wait too long though as people began to filter inside, slowly at first but after Rebekah had sauntered in the throng of people just seemed to build. At some point the space didn't seem big enough to house everyone. His works were bought at a rapid pace the only problem being his showcase piece. He'd been given more offers on that than anything else but Klaus couldn't bring himself to sell it, especially given it was his only reminder of her.

Kol and Rebekah reprimanded him about being so stupid given the impressive offers he'd received so far but he couldn't let her go. If he never saw her again Klaus figured it was all he had to remind him of their impromptu meeting.

"Um, excuse me?" A melodic voice enquired. "How much is this painting?"

"It's not for sale," he said without looking around straight away, used to all the questions by now.

"But I'd really like to buy it," she persisted, making him look around eventually. It was her. His muse. She looked even more beautiful if that was possible in a light blue dress that brought out those eyes. "I can offer you ten thousand dollars." Klaus knew that was by far the best offer he'd had all night and probably forever, the fact she could pay so much was another thing, who exactly was she?

"While I appreciate that I can't sell this piece, miss."

"And why not?"

"It's of personal value to me," he admitted. "I'm not sure I can part with it to be honest." She looked at him curiously for the moment like she was trying to work out why he was being so stubborn.

"I thought this was an art show to buy your work?" She reiterated. "Given we both know who your subject is, I don't understand the issue."

"I'm just not sure I can let you go," he offered, holding her gaze for much longer than usual. "You are my muse after all."

"So, doesn't that mean I deserve this painting then? I've offered you a very generous price, I don't understand why you wouldn't take it?"

"Maybe we should discuss my reasonings later then?" She was silent for a moment her eyes downcast. Klaus wasn't sure what to make of it to be honest. All he wanted to do was take her to his favourite restaurant and talk with her about everything.

"I'll be busy then," she replied, her voice colder than previously. She was gone again before Klaus could reply. He immediately felt bad like he'd crossed a boundary but had no idea why. She may of been his muse but she was bloody confusing.

"I can't believe you had the Madame herself offering you all that money and still you declined," Kol uttered, standing by his side.

"The Madame?"

"She runs the House of the Rising Sun, her name is Caroline Forbes. You didn't know obviously."

"Well, that would explain the enticing offer," he murmured. When he'd come across her in the Quarter a few days ago, Klaus had considered her sweet and pure but now he was realising she was something completely different. Klaus should have wrote her off immediately but after three days of insomnia he decided it was time he paid her a visit.

St Louis Street

Klaus walked into the famed house taking in his surroundings. Most people would define a brothel a certain way and this was most definitely something different with it's high ceilings and large windows attracting the maximum amount of light this time of day. He walked towards the front desk ominously, completely foreign to these kinds of situations.

"Hello."

"Well hello there, sugar," the brunette purred. "How can we help you today?" Klaus was momentarily silenced before the woman in question he was searching for appeared from nowhere. Klaus was beginning to believe that she couldn't look bad if she tried given the black dress she wore that highlighted her creamy skin.

"I know how much you love an English accent Katherine but this one is otherwise occupied," Caroline said dismissively. "What are you doing in my place of business?"

"I felt like we left things on a bad note," Klaus shared. "I have a tendency to be a little antisocial. When you showed up at the exhibition, I was surprised but even more so when you made me an offer. You have to understand it's become something I'm attached to and it's difficult to let go but I'm willing to give it to you."

"Oh, I see you want me to offer more now you know what I am," she surmised, tapping her finger on the desk. "Fine what do you want? $15,000?"

"I don't think you understand," he answered. "It's yours."

"Mine? Let me guess you want something else from me?"

"No, but I did bring you some beignets after the other night's mishap. It's the least I could do."

"So, not only are you going to just give me your brilliant piece of work, I get beignets too?"

"Of course. Look, I admit I was feeling a little possessive but it was only because I thought my painting was the only memory I'd ever have of you. Luckily you turned up on my door and made me realise that maybe I had a second chance." Klaus could tell she was trying not to smile but that he'd gotten through to her at the same time.

"I don't take charity, never have, so we're going to have to look into this deal," she insisted.

"Whatever you say, ma'am."