A/N Wow. I ran a poll to see which smut drabble or series deserved a reprise. This won! The response to the first arranged marriage drabble was amazing. Thank you so much to everybody who read, reviewed and voted. Without further ado, I bring the second installment of the green card marriage series.
Try to Ignore That It Means More Than That
"It may seem to you that I'm acting confused when you're close to me. If I tend to look dazed – I've read it someplace – I've got cause to be. It's physical, only logical. You must try to ignore that it means more than that. What's love got to do with it?" Tina Turner
Klaus sighed as he watched his wife swirl around the dance floor with his older brother, Elijah. They were in the middle of a traditional waltz and had temporarily swapped partners. Unfortunately for the millionaire artist, that meant he was stuck dancing with his brother's on-again off-again paramour, Katherine Pierce. The sassy brunette had introduced him to his future ex-wife. Caroline had agreed to marry him long enough for his citizenship to become permanent in exchange for a million dollars.
In retrospect, the beautiful blonde thought she'd sold herself short. A million wasn't enough to put up with Klaus Mikaelson for five years. Hell, a billion wasn't enough to put with how she seriously did not feel about her husband. She did not like him. He was arrogant and bossy and inconveniently sexy in his white tuxedo, rough stubble covering his charming dimples that she definitely had not fixated on when he'd watched her face as he fucked her in the shower. The dimples she couldn't tear her eyes away from as he swung her back into his arms.
"You look ravishing in that dress," Klaus complimented her in his smooth British accent as she twirled beneath his muscular shoulder. "I can't wait to tear it off," he whispered in her ear as his hand caressed her stomach on the next spin.
"That's not going to happen," she snapped back between gritted teeth, her angry tone barely audible.
"Of course it will." His dry chuckle was infuriating, but his sinful promise made her lower belly clench all the same. Damn him. "All I have to do is get you angry and you'll tear my clothes off the minute we're alone. What better way to get your knickers in a twist that making you blush in front of all these people?"
"I hate you," came her venomous response, but he only laughed as the dance finished. She hated even more that it was completely true.
"No, you don't." He shook his head, amused, as they walked over to the bar. "Hello, love," he greeted the blonde bartended with big boobs and no brain. Caroline bristled at the way his dimples emerged beneath his scruff. Those were her dimples, damnit. How dare her husband flirt with that slut right in front of her. Not that she cared. Like, at all. Seriously. "I'll have a double scotch. Macallan, if you have it."
"For you, I do," she replied with a flirty wink. She swayed her hips as she bent down to get a bottle of the expensive liquor. "Can I get your girlfriend anything?" the woman, Cami according to her cheap plastic nametag, asked without a glance in the better blonde's direction as she handed Klaus his drink.
"She'll have a Chateau Margaux," Klaus answered for her, eyes locked on Cami's before very obviously dropping to the poorly cut V-neck of her bargain-bin black blouse.
Caroline shoved him aside with her hip. "Actually, I'll have a Stoli Elit," she practically growled as she forcefully pulled her husband's arms around her waist. Klaus used to opportunity to grind his quickly growing erection against the clue hiffon of her gown. "And I'm his wife." The bleach blonde held up her hands in mock surrender and quickly poured their drinks before moving on to a handsome black man straight out of GQ. Mrs. Mikaelson knocked back her vodka before slamming the crystal shot glass down on the bar. She glared at the smug smirk on Klaus' face, daring him to say anything.
"Jealous?" Of course he had to say it. He was so damn infuriating!
She roughly stole his drink right out of his hand and took a sip. "Just keeping up appearances. Agent Sorcière just walked in."
Klaus' topaz eyes darted to the entrance of the grand ballroom and sure enough, Genevieve was standing there talking to his mother. "How the bloody hell did that witch get invited?" He stared at the woman in charge of his immigration case with disdain as he grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter.
"Oh, I don't know. How about you ask your new bartender friend?" she asked with her best Miss Mystic smile as the two women approached. "Agent, it's so lovely to see you again; and so unexpected," she greeted politely, offering her a well-manicured hand.
"Mrs. Mikaelson," Genevieve replied formally, barely touching Caroline's outstretched palm before turning to Klaus. "And hello to you, too, Mr. Mikaelson."
Caroline's death glare made his cock twitch in his tuxedo pants. He slowly took the agent's hand and gently caressed her skin with his raspberry lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "Please, call me Klaus." His wife's hand curled into a fist as she fought back the urge to break her now empty glass over the redheaded woman's face. "Would you care to dance?"
"I'd love to," she answered before Caroline could interject. Klaus smirked at her over his shoulder as Genevieve enthusiastically dragged him to the dance floor. The blonde's face burned as her pulse raced, eyes narrowing as her husband swirled the woman in charge of their fate around the ballroom.
The elder Mikaelson snapped her fingers, beckoning the nearest waiter. "Joshua, get my daughter-in-law an espresso at once, and make it a double."
"Esther," Caroline greeted with a curt nod. She and the matriarch co-existed for the purpose of keeping Klaus in the country, but Esther was a frigid old wasp and Caroline had yet to thaw her wings.
"Caroline." Her tone was formal and her smile was plastic. Esther was a formidable in-law on the best of days, and today was clearly not the best if the judgement in the older woman's eyes was any indication. The fashionable gay man returned with a porcelain demitasse, quickly passing it off to the newlywed in his haste to scurry off lest he be stung. "Drink this. You need to sober up."
Caroline frowned at the taste of the bitter liquid. She preferred lattes, thanks. "I am not drunk," she bit back, slurring her words as the liquor made the room spin. Nope, not drinking away her non-existent feelings at all.
"Lies suit you no more than acting, darling," Esther chided, patting her arm patronizingly as the younger woman glared at her husband swirling the agent around while the redhead laughed at what definitely not a funny joke. "First that bimbo at the bar and now this trollop. Exactly how many women is my son sleeping with?"
The younger Mrs. Mikaelson spit out her espresso, droplets decorating the front of her gown. "Excuse me?!"
"Come now, dear. Save the happily married routine for the government. We all know you married my son for his money." She held up a perfectly manicured hand to halt Caroline's denial. "Which I am fine with since he's clearly still the same playboy he always was. It's a good act, jealousy; I'll give you that. For a while there, you almost had me fooled. But don't try too hard or no one will believe it. You're worth more as a socialite than an actress." She smiled at her son as he made his way back to them, the temperature in the room dropping with his mood.
"Mother," he greeted her coldly, stepping between her and his wife.
"Niklaus, do try and keep it in your pants while ICE is here," she scolded her middle child. "A deportation scandal is more than my poor old heart can take. You know how fragile I am," she reminded him condescendingly. Esther had written into her will that Klaus' inheritance peaked at the hour of her death. His eldest brother, Dr. Finn Mikaelson, renowned physician, swore to the entire family that any type of stress could be the end of their matriarch. "And finish your espresso," she added to Caroline before her plastic smile reemerged as she sauntered off to the nearest photographer.
"She's terrifying."
"She's boring," Klaus replied, scoffing at his wife's disdain. "You, sweetheart, are far, far, more entertaining." He was too close, smelled too good, looked too... annoying. "Care to dance?"
Now it was Caroline's turn to scoff, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff. "Who, me? Why dance with me? I'm only your wife. Don't you have a bartender to woo?" She turned her back and made her way to the nearest bar, this one staffed by a young man with well-coiffed hair who didn't even look old enough to be drinking alcohol, let alone serving it. "Hello, Stefan," she greeted, leaning forward to give him more than an ample view of her creamy breasts. "Can you get me a Chateau Margaux, pretty, pretty please?" Her voice was saccharine as she batted her eyelashes at the man as he scurried to get her wine, dodging daggers from Klaus as he protectively placed an arm around her bare shoulders.
"No wine. She'll have coffee; add a shot and make it black."
Mrs. Mikaelson spun around and ducked out from beneath her husband's unfairly muscular forearm. "What is it with you and your family hating cream?" she demanded with an indignant huff, oblivious to the bartender's terrified indecision as he tried to determine which spouse posed the greater threat. "Your mother was pouring black death down my throat, too. I am not drunk, ok? Forgive me for trying to have a little fun. It's not like you've been holding back with some of your favorite vices."
"Oh, you mean the women?" he asked, voice soft and somehow colder than before as he leaned in close enough to brush his stubbled against her ear. "Is that more or less repugnant than the way you were flashing that poor bartender?"
"Who, babyface over here? As if," she snorted, ripping a latte out of Stefan's hand, hot droplets decorating the front of her husband's white lapels. "I'm not the one with a reputation so filthy even his own mother thinks he's getting it on with half the room!"
"Easy, love. You're making a scene," he gritted out between clenched teeth as he hooked her arm in his elbow and led her to the giant staircase. "I've no interest in those other women. I was just having a bit of fun with you."
"Well, I don't think it's very funny the way you flaunt that our marriage is a damn joke when one of those sluts is the woman who can lock us up!" she screeched once they reached the upstairs hallway.
Klaus spun her around and pressed her back up against the wall, one palm on either side of her perfectly styled blonde curls. He leaned in, his lips just barely brushing hers. "And the bartender? Do you think I found that amusing? Seeing my wife practically giving the help a lap dance?"
The older man never found out if she thought it was amusing because he stole her breath with a searing kiss. She was just pissed enough to return it with equal fervor. Before she knew it, her legs were hiked up around his waist and his cock was grinding against her barely-there lacy boy shorts that she seriously did not wear to drive him crazy as she bent down to put them on that morning.
He didn't care too much about the panties, apparently, because he ripped them off with a sharp tug. He swallowed her gasp with his tongue as they stumbled backwards into someone's office. The walls were tinted glass and overlooked the ball room. They could see the hundreds of socialites down below, but they were unseen to the oblivious drunken masses. She was too intoxicated to notice, having spilled her latte all over the plush carpet, but Klaus was well aware. He eagerly began getting her naked as his cock throbbed in his tux.
"Not the dress. Not the dress," Caroline panted quickly in between sharp kisses and tugs of his short curls. He groaned against her mouth but slowed his pace in removing her sparkly blue ball gown. Her breasts were barely covered in a cream-colored strapless bra that soon landed across the office. His lips trailed down to her perky nipples, latching around one as he sucked hard, teasing her rosy bud with his tongue and teeth. When the elegant fabric pooled at her feet, her panties were the last to go. He'd been dying to tear them off since she'd put them on and that's exactly what he did, shredding them in the process.
Klaus effortlessly scooped her up and lay her down on the desk, quickly sweeping away half the contents. She reached for his belt buckle, but he was too fast for her, easily pinning her arms over her head. "Stay still," he commanded as he pulled up her knees, her feet flat on the glass desk. She let him part her legs and eagerly nodded her head as he trailed kisses down her bare flesh. "You look so pretty spread out for me, wife. Your pussy looks delicious, so wet already. Keep your eyes on me while I taste you."
"Not now, Klaus," she snapped back. It was bad enough they were about to fuck on some executive's desk in the middle of her very first event. The last thing she wanted to do was think about who was eating her out.
A mischievous smirk heightened his dimples as he pushed one finger inside her dripping core. "Would you rather I stop?"
"Well, no, but-"
"But nothing," he interjected, slowly moving in and out as he toyed with her nipples. "Eyes on me," he repeated firmly, adding a second finger as an incentive. She reluctantly looked down just in time to catch his smile before his tongue circled her clit. She'd never watched his mouth on her like that before. It was a rush. He was so handsome and he was on his knees for her. Not Cami. Not Genevieve. Her. She propped herself up on her elbows and spread her thighs further, her hips gyrating as he worked his fingers in and out of her pussy.
Klaus moaned around her sensitive little bud when he caught her staring, mouth on her most sensitive part, fiery topaz eyes locked on her sapphires. He inserted a third finger, stretching her for his cock. She felt herself growing closer and fought back the urge to grind against his face. He chuckled at her struggle and rewarded her with a nibble on her clit that had her gasping his name. He swirled his tongue around, hooked his fingers inside of her and she was gone. She came hard all over his stubble, crying out her pleasure amidst the blaring music from the speakers just beyond the glass walls overlooking the ball.
The older Mikaelson barely gave her time to come down from her high before pulling her to her feet. He kissed her passionately on the mouth, his tongue dominating hers as he let her taste herself on his lips. She licked her arousal from his stubble slowly and seductively, rubbing his erection through his trousers. "We'll get to that later, but first..." Without warning, he spun her around and bent her over the desk. He looked down at her bare skin, taking in the sight of her clad in nothing but her Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals with four-inch stiletto heels. He leaned over her, caressing the flesh of her ass as he whispered in her ear, "Flirting with the bartender wasn't very wifey of you, Mrs. Mikaelson. You should say you're sorry."
Caroline narrowed her eyes and turned her head away from him on the desk, refusing to speak. "That's no way to behave, Mrs. Mikaelson," he teased, rubbing his hand over her cheeks, taunting her. Her pussy clenched around air at what was to come. "I mean, this is what you want, yes? This morning, you requested that I just do stuff to you; isn't that right?"
She nodded her head but didn't answer, burying her face in the glass desk as she covertly rubbed her thighs together. "None of that," he chided, nudging her feet apart with the toe of his dress shoes. We do things my way... unless of course you have any suggestions?" He smirked when she didn't. "You let me know when you feel like talking, sweetheart." She hmphed and he rewarded her with the first slap. "You have such a lovely little ass, Caroline. So many fun uses for it. I can spank it." Slap. Slap. "I can dig my nails into it." He demonstrated by dragging his nails down her already pink cheeks, stopping when he grazed her pussy. "But you know what I like doing the most?" His tone was conversational but her face was on fire as she bent over the desk and let him have his way with her. And loved it.
Klaus stopped spanking her long enough to press one finger past her anus, the other hand slapping her again. "I like fucking it." Her pussy clenched around nothing and she tried to sneak a hand between her body and the desk, but he caught her wrist effortlessly before it snaked beneath her belly. "You're not a very good listener, love," he teased. He quickly pulled off his bowtie and used it to bind her wrists behind her back.
"What would be more effective that my hand, hmm?" he mused as he picked up random objects from the desk. "Pencil? Too small. Stapler? Too big. Gilded pen? Maybe, but that's not quite right. Oh, a notebook. That could work. No. This. This is perfect." He chuckled at her wide eyes when he showed her a metal ruler. "Feel like talking yet? No? You're sure? Alright, if you insist." He traced the ruler down her ass, reveling in the way her body trembled in anticipation. His eyes lit up when they fell on a small candy dish full of soft dinner mints.
The husband leaned down to raise an eyebrow at his wife, holding the freshly unwrapped mint just below her nose, smirking when her eyes turned into saucers. "Is the answer still no?" She gulped before turning her head to the side. He quickly grabbed hold of her messy bun and turned her to face him. "But you do want this, yes?"
Caroline rolled her eyes. They were the only part of her that could move. "Do you ever stop talking?"
Klaus chuckled at his contracted wife. "I'll stop when you start."
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Yes, Klaus, I want you to keep doing stuff, ok? Are you happy now?" she conceded with a snarl. He held her head firmly pinned as he pressed the mint against her clit with a dimpled smile. "Klaus," she breathed. He was only circling one tiny part of her, but it felt like her entire body was on fire.
"Do let me know when you'd like me to do more." She narrowed her eyes at it before slamming them shut when he pressed harder. He released her head when she moaned aloud, resuming his standing position. He pulled the ruler from his back pocket and smacked her hard on the ass, making her jump. When the mint began to fall apart, he pushed it deep inside her pussy and set to work on her cheeks. He started slowly and built her up until she was shaking with need. He could tell she was close to her breaking point and needed to come badly. "I'll make it easy for you. Just ask me nicely and I'll fuck you."
"I'm not doing that," she replied with a gasp when he slapped her upper thigh just below the curve of her ass.
"Have it your way, then." He pushed one finger in her ass, teasing her. "But I think we both know you want it. You want me to fuck you here and then you want my cock in your tight pussy. Then, you'll go back to the party and play the dutiful wife. Well, sweetheart, just once, I want you to be my dutiful wife. Say please. Ask me to fuck you and I promise you I will stop at nothing until you come on my cock. I'll even be nice and take you from behind so you don't have to look at me."
Caroline moaned when he hit her again, harder this time. The mint juice in her pussy dripped down, splashing lightly against her clit. It sent frozen shockwaves through her body and made her cry out. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound of her moans and the sight of the bright red stripes decorating her cheeks and thighs. He was growing rather desperate himself. He slapped her five more times on each cheek before tossing the ruler haphazardly over his shoulder and knocking over a plant.
Klaus added a second finger to her ass and pressed two into her pussy, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Say please, Caroline. Three words and you can come. Come on love. Don't you want to be a good girl for me?" She really did. She liked earning his praise, liked knowing she was doing a good job at whatever weird sex game they were playing that she didn't understand but knew she loved.
"Oh, fuck it. Fine," she conceded, moaning when his fingers sped up. "Please fuck me."
"With pleasure, wife," he replied, emphasizing her proper title as he quickly pulled his hard shaft from his trousers. He replaced the fingers in her ass with his cock while speeding up the two in her pussy. He reached below her to rub her clit up and down as he eased his impressive length inside of her. The burning cold combined with all the friction was enough to send her immediately toppling over the edge. He hadn't expected her to finish that quickly, had wanted to pound into her first, but she wasn't ready, and he would never hurt her. With great restraint, he stilled his cock in her ass as he played with her pussy until she finally came back down, panting and heaving. With some effort, he managed to hook his foot around the wheel of the giant leather office chair.
The married man maneuvered them into a seated position, Caroline's hands still bound between them. He kissed the back of her neck as he moved her up ass and down on his cock. His tone was mischievous as he said, "As promised, you don't have to look at me while I fuck you." He wheeled them right up to the glass and she finally saw that they could see everyone dancing down below. "You can look at them instead."
"Fuck," she breathed, pussy clenching as her eyes again grew round. How had she missed that glass wall? She'd been too distracted by ignoring her husband to notice the view. "Can they...?"
"They can't see us, but we can see them," he quickly reassured her. "Do you think they know how easily you spread your legs for me when we're alone? How much you love pleasing your husband? Or, do you think those in the know think we aren't even sleeping together? Tell me: what do you think they would say if they knew how often you pick fights with me just so I'll fuck you?"
She turned her head to look at him in shock. He chuckled at her startled expression. "Of course, I know that you do it as an excuse to get me into bed. Why do you think I ordered an entire case of red toothpaste?" Her face flamed, but she still eagerly met him thrust for thrust, easily leaning back against his firm chest. His hands moved up her body to play with her breasts, molding and shaping them as he teased her nipples. She let out a satisfied little moan when he twisted one while pinching the other with his nails. "You needn't go to all that trouble, Caroline. If you want to fuck, all you have to do is ask. Our marriage would be far happier if you would just admit you don't actually hate me."
"Our marriage is a business arrangement," she replied simply, barely suppressing a groan when his nails trailed down her body.
Klaus felt something in his chest tighten at how cold she sounded even as he hammered into her. For once, he didn't know what to say. Instead, he rubbed her clit up and down and nibbled her neck, dodging her mouth when she moved to kiss him. Her lips parted as she gasped out his name when another orgasm overtook her. He pinched her little bud to prolong her high, holding her around the belly as she shuddered. As soon as she came back down, he pushed her to her feet and quickly bent her over the desk. He pulled his cock out of her ass and thrust into her pussy, making her cry out.
Whatever romantic notions he'd felt for his wife flew out the window as he slammed into her from behind. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of her fleshy walls clamping down on him. He fucked her in silence, the only sound that of his balls slapping against her pussy as he approached the edge. He leaned down and played with her clit until she was panting. He changed angles to hit her in just the right spot to make her fall apart. He knew all her spots, inside and out. She just didn't know any of his – and clearly had no desire to learn. Their orgasms crashed together in a wave of euphoria as they rutted against each other until both were completely spent.
Klaus' chest was yet to stop heaving when he pulled the knot on his bowtie to free her wrists. He quickly retied it around his neck as she searched for her clothes. She glared at him when she found her ruined panties, but as usual, said nothing. She pulled her shimmery gown back on and turned, hair held above her neck. She waited expectantly for him to zip her up, but when she eventually looked over her shoulder to see what he was waiting for, he was gone.
Caroline zipped her own dress back up and stomped out of the office, uncharacteristically leaving it in a state of disarray. She found the nearest bathroom and cleaned herself up as best she could. She groaned at the sight of herself in the mirror. Mascara was streaked all down her face and her hair was a mess. All her makeup and bobby pins were in her designer purse downstairs. With a sigh, she resigned herself to waiting for the next woman to come along.
Of course that woman just had to be Katherine Pierce, the very same woman who'd set her up with Klaus in the first place. Kat smirked as she took in the sight of her best friend disheveled and flushed from great hate sex. "So, I see the marriage is going better than I expected."
"Shut up and go get my purse," Caroline replied bluntly.
"You don't want me to call your husband to get it for you?" she teased with a playful smile.
"I wish you wouldn't call him that."
"Wish I wouldn't call him that or wish that wasn't what he was?" Kat's smile was knowing as the blonde predictably didn't reply. She scoffed and shook her head at her idiot friend but did turn back around. Before she left, she tossed over her shoulder, "You know, it's not a crime to love what you cannot explain."
Caroline was waiting longer than she cared to be left alone with her thoughts. How had a simple business transaction gotten so complicated? Klaus knew their marriage was about two things: her money and his citizenship. So, why had he gone quiet after she'd reminded him of something he already knew? Her husband loved the sound of his own voice almost as much as she loved how he threw her around like a rag doll. And he'd been going somewhere with the whole, "Look at them," thing; that she knew. But one sentence from her had shut him up. She couldn't figure it out.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her reverie. She opened it and was surprised to find Klaus on the other side. "Katerina said you asked for me," he greeted her as he handed over her Prada.
"She was supposed to bring me my purse," she replied a little too quickly. At his steely expression, she added, "But since you're here, I guess you can come in."
"Oh, how generous of you." His tone was cold but he closed the door behind him all the same.
"What's got your bowtie in a twist?" she asked with a frown as she fixed her makeup.
"I've no idea what you're talking about, sweetheart. Care to elaborate?"
Caroline groaned in frustration as she fought with the few remaining hair pins holding up her frazzled sex hair. "You know what I'm talking about. One minute, things are fine. We're doing, you know, whatever it is that we do, and the next you're running out the door."
"You mean like you usually do?" he pointed out.
"That's different."
"How so?" He was goading her with his innocent words and icy tone and she knew it.
"No," she said firmly, closing the clasp on her bag as she spun around to face him. "Would you just stop it with the mind games? Ok, like, I've had enough. Seriously. I don't like the way you're acting right now."
"The way I'm acting?!" His voice was nearly a shout as he got in her face. "How about the way you act every time I try to talk about us?"
"What us?" she demanded, hands on hips as she glared at him. "There is no us, Klaus. There's the next four and a half years and-"
"And what? And then you take your money and just go on your merry way?"
"That's what we agreed to!"
"Then what of what we just did in there?" He moved closer when she clamped her mouth shut, refusing to answer. "And in the shower this morning? And yesterday afternoon? And the night before?"
"It is what it is, babe, and I don't want to talk about it in the bathroom at my first damn gala."
"You don't want to talk about it at all!" His voice was loud enough that his wife was sure anyone outside would be able to hear it, but he obviously didn't care.
Caroline pressed her palms together just below her lips and inhaled a deep breath to steady herself. Lowering her voice, she suggested, "Let's just go back downstairs and-"
"Play the happy couple, hmm? Is that what you want, sweetheart?" He was dangerously close to her face now. Her eyes darted to the door and she debated what he would do if she tried to make a break for it. "To get through the next few years pretending that you feel nothing for me?"
"I'm not doing this here," she insisted, moving passed him.
Klaus quickly followed her down the steps, ripping away a glass of champagne when she took one from the nearest tray. "You've had more than enough to drink tonight, love. We aren't finished." He quickly drained the glass and set it down on a nearby table. "Answer my question. What is this to you?" He gestured between the two of them, crowding her airspace as he waited with bated breath for her to respond, praying she would, dreading what her answer would be.
"Look, we can talk about this later, ok?" she pleaded, eyeing the redhead in her peripheral vision making her way over to them, a gesture lost on her angry husband.
"No, we will talk about this now," he growled in a low tone.
All of a sudden, Caroline's face lit up and she laughed out loud. Klaus was so taken aback that he didn't realize they had company. Before he could comment, she placed a soothing hand on his forearm and jerked her hand enough to get him to turn. "He hates these things," she said sweetly to the agent. "Now, honey, we have only a couple of more hours and then we'll go home and watch a movie, ok?" Her tone was as plastic as her mother-in-law's as the matriarch sauntered up behind them.
"Niklaus, behave yourself," she warned, oblivious to the real issue but well aware of her middle child's generally sour temperament. "What's the problem, Caroline?" Genevieve watched the trio with a shrewd eye, waiting to see what excuse the wife would give.
The blonde waived her hand dismissively. "Oh, you know how much Nik hates these things. He's just bored." She made a face at him, daring him to challenge her.
"Nik hates a lot of things," he spat, his tongue dripping with sarcasm at the familial nickname she never used.
"And what kind of things are those?" the agent interjected as her gaze flicked between the married couple.
Finally, Klaus turned to face her, straightening his shoulders. "Nothing that concerns the federal government, I assure you."
"Don't be rude," Caroline snipped. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse him. We had a fight this morning about-"
"But it's all been worked out. Surely, we can find something more interesting for the agent to discuss than petty marriage squabbles," Esther cut in with a warning glance at her son.
"Actually, I'd like to hear it," Genevieve said, smiling triumphantly at the fake couple as she ran her thumb along the gold badge pinned to the end of her mismatched scarf.
"Yes, sweetheart, about what?" Klaus commented dryly, raising a brow at his wife.
"Well," she continued awkwardly, "it was about, uh, um..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of something.
"Yes?" prodded the federal employee.
"Vacation homes," she finally finished with a confident nod and very fake smile. "You see, Klaus wants to buy a house somewhere in the Caribbean."
"But Caroline would prefer something north," he added icily, glaring at her pointedly with anger behind his topaz eyes. "Somewhere frigid and frozen, devoid of plant life. Likes the cold, this one."
Caroline released a nervous giggle and again waved her hand. "It's just a little lover's quarrel. I'm sure we'll work it out. Like, married couples don't always agree, right? No, like, sometimes he's wants to go on and on about something pointless while I'd rather just, you know, find something better to do, right?" she expounded nervously. "Like, we're very happy. Yep. Happily married. We have a really nice life. We're here at the very first gala I planned all by myself. Well, Esther helped. She's, like, a really good mother-in-law. Yep. We're very happy."
"Listen, Barbie girl, why don't you do yourself a favor and stop talking," the redhead scoffed, rolling her eyes as she held up a hand to halt the endless rambling. "The only thing faker than your marriage is that bartender's boobs. I don't buy your whole 'perfect couple' story. You married a guy two days after you met because you were as drunk as you are now and he was a good fuck," she said bluntly, shocking Caroline into stunned silence as she pulled a dangling bobby pin from Klaus' lapel. He felt his ears flatten as a low growl emitted from the back of his throat. Her smile was evil when she turned her vitriol on him. "And you married her because you needed to stay in the country. And let me guess." She turned back to the blonde. "He neglected to mention that your quickie wedding came with a five-year prison sentence. Admit it. You had no idea what kind of hell was in store for you when you drunkenly said, 'I do.'"
When they were in bed, the wife said nothing. When they were out of it, she said everything; but, for once, the youngest Mrs. Mikaelson had nothing to say. When Klaus protectively placed his palm flat against her lower back, she didn't shy away. Another first.
"That's what I thought." Caroline wanted to smack the arrogant smile right off her face, but instead she leaned back into her husband's hand, silently drawing from him the strength not to murder. "Now here's the part where I do us all a favor. I'm going to tell you the truth, which is something you both suck at." She scoffed at them, shaking her head. "This relationship is doomed. You can spend the next five years fighting and fucking and pray that you neither kill each other nor stupidly decide to stay married; or, you can wise up. Klaus here can go back to England voluntarily and you can go back to NYU with a big fat settlement. I'm sure Mommy Dearest can smooth it over with the press."
"I'm not going anywhere," Klaus snarled. "Caroline is my wife and I'm in love with her. The only person leaving here is you, Agent Sorcière. You have about five seconds to get the hell out of our gala before I have security escort you to the nearest dumpster."
"And while you're there, try to find a scarf that actually matches that dress," the blonde added with a triumphant smirk as she pulled her husband's arm around her belly, squeezing his hand.
Genevieve flared her nostrils, eyes narrowing as she puffed out her plastic chest. "Fine," she conceded, exhaling loudly through her nose, "be that way. You had your chance. May the next five years bring you nothing but suffering." She turned on her outdated Louboutin's and marched towards the door, but not before tossing over her shoulder, "And to make sure you are, I'll be seeing you every month until your citizenship is finalized. Enjoy your gala." With an evil cackle, she disappeared out the door.
Caroline turned to her husband and gulped, both sharing the same thought for the first time in their marriage.
We're fucked.
A/N Well? What did you think? I know most people don't like to comment on smut, but please take a second to tell me if you liked it and want a third installment. Pretty please with smut on top. :)