Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries, which is a good thing, cause otherwise something like this coulda happened. Title of the story comes from a line in the song "Break Me, Shake Me" by Savage Garden, which I don't own either.

A/N: I was overwhelmed by the response I got on my oneshot, so I felt extra inspired to write this week. So many of you liked the Alaric!Klaus/Caroline scenes, which was so good to hear since those were my favorite scenes. I never intended to write anymore of those, but several of you asked me to write more variations on that, so I got inspired and I went with it. And then...this happened. It's *much* shorter, a good bit naughty, and almost stretching a little towards the realms of non-con, so be prepared.

It's nothing like my oneshot, nowhere near as sweet and beautiful, so I hope this doesn't disgrace it!

you abused me in a way that I've never known

In all honestly, Klaus had only intended to interrogate her for a while. Gather intel, so to speak, on the obstacles between himself and his doppelganger; obstacles being the rag-tag group of incompetents that were incessantly flocking to her, surrounding her, guarding her from him (as if they could stop him). Because however incompetent they might be, Klaus is still a professional; he has a reputation to uphold, after all, and he can't be seen allowing any of them to defy him. So, incompetent or not, he needs to be ready for them.

He is always two steps ahead. Centuries of existence, and no one has managed to pull one over on him. Not since he was human. Not since his birthright was stolen from him. (He refuses to think of Katarina's betrayal; he'll give that whore what she deserves, all in good time).

Klaus observes the friends that seem to hover around his doppelganger the most, himself under the guise as their trusted friend, teacher, vampire hunter. Alaric Saltzman. It amuses Klaus that the man considers himself a vampire hunter, and yet the majority of his friends are vampires themselves. Nevertheless, his body suites Klaus' purpose. He makes a mental list of likely subjects.

Stefan and Damon are, of course, not possible. Damon is too much of a wild card, and he's saving the Ripper for later purposes. The witch is out too; he can't risk giving himself away to the one obstacle that he really needs to be rid of.

There's the Gilbert boy; he could certainly provide a wealth of insight on the group. His doppelganger's brother is almost the lucky winner, when he spots her among the cluster friends.

Caroline, they say her name is. Caroline. Alaric Saltzman's lips slowly spread in an entirely Klaus-like smile.

Sweet little Caroline.

Information was all he needed, but he found that he simply couldn't resist taking so much more than that from sweet little Caroline.

Caroline shakes herself from a haze. She feels as though she's been asleep, but something tells her that isn't right, there's another answer right under her nose. Only she can't see it; there's a fog clouding her mind, and Caroline frowns, blinking her eyes rapidly and shaking her head again, as if to clear the spreading mist.

Awareness suddenly strikes her, and her eyes focus on Alaric looming over her. Caroline starts. Oh. He's so close – he's –

What's happening?

She can't remember what they'd been talking about. Was it important?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Saltzman, what were you saying?" Caroline asks politely, trying to take a step back. She realizes then that he's holding her wrists. Why?

"Caroline, sweetheart, there's no need for formality. I feel as if we know each other quite well now, don't you?" Alaric pauses to smirk. "Well, at least I know you."

Caroline glances uneasily towards the window; it's dark outside, almost pitch black. That's when she realizes she's in Alaric's classroom. What is she still doing here, so late?

Alaric is still speaking. "And please, call me Klaus," he purrs.

If there was any fog left drifting through her mind at that moment, it's gone now. Everything around her sharpens; the grimy walls with their tacky paraphernalia; desks formed into haphazard, misaligned rows; a shoe scuff on the floor just beside her; Alaric's face. Because it is Alaric's face…and yet somehow he's –

"What?" Caroline deadpans, her voice somehow completely emotionless, as if the reality of what's going on hasn't quite caught up to her yet. When she tries to step back again this time he lets her, but only because he follows her, fingers still clasped around her wrists in a deadly vice.

"I think you heard me, sweetheart. I took out a loan with your Mr. Saltzman."

Caroline is shaking her head again, still backing up, refusing to believe this. She can't believe this, it's just not possible. Klaus still follows her.

"It's been quite a lucrative trade, I think. Thanks to you."

She freezes, her veins turning to ice (she doesn't want to go back any further anyway; she can sense Alaric's desk looming up behind her, and she will not allow this man to corner her against it). Oh God, what does he mean? What can he possibly mean by that?

Caroline tries to think back, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she grasps through the tendrils of fog, tries to wrench back a memory, a word, a thought, anything. But she can't. She can't! A frisson of anxiety runs through her when she remembers that Originals can compel vampires. She'd never thought much about it, never took vervain (too painful, too hard, she barely forced herself to choke it down once and swore she couldn't do it again). If Alaric – if this person – is who he says he is then…Oh God.

He's compelled her. And she can't remember. What did she say?

Alaric – No, Klaus – is giving her an amused look, as if he can guess at the panic that is blaring through her. And then quite suddenly he's forcing her backwards, rapidly, until she collides with the desk behind them. Caroline hits it so hard the whole thing is thrown back a foot. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

One of Alaric's (Klaus damn it, it's Klaus) legs wedge between hers, roughly, as he presses her to the desk. Caroline gasps at the sensation, releasing her lip; she can feel the little drop of blood that wells over the swollen flesh and rolls down her chin.

"I think," Klaus says, his eyes mesmerized by the tantalizing trail of blood, "that Alaric deserves something in return for all the assistance he's provided me with the use of this body." One of his hands releases her wrist, sinking into the hair at the nape of her neck. His fingers curl through several strands, grasping them firmly, tilting her head back. His face is closer to hers, dark eyes still drawn to her blood. "The least I could do is give him some good memories. What do you think, sweetheart?"

And without waiting for a response, his tongue slowly slides up her chin, savoring the taste of blood with a purr that makes her stomach clench. Caroline shifts against his thigh (Ohhh), and gasps as he presses it closer, her lips falling open. Alaric – er, Klaus – promptly delves his tongue between them, bending her neck back uncomfortably as he dominates her mouth, the taste of blood sweet to her senses even if it is her own. He rumbles against her mouth in a satisfied way.

Caroline uses her free hand to slap him across the face, breaking their kiss. She's breathing heavily, but only in anger. How dare he do this? She struggles against him as a malevolent look starts to gleam in his eyes. His fingers tighten in her hair, jerking her closer. His eyes probe deeply into hers, and she knows right before he says it exactly what he's going to do.

"Don't fight me."

She sags against him, closing her eyes. How could he do this? Is he really so evil? Why did he have to choose her, damn it! Caroline whimpers as he mouths her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Turn around." Klaus whispers. Caroline shudders. "Please, don't –"

His fingers tighten in her hair and then his eyes are upon hers again, stealing her will with compulsion. "Turn around." Klaus commands. Caroline has no choice but to obey. She turns, bracing her arms against the desk as he steps closer behind her, his hands at her hips. His feet step between hers, nudging them apart, spreading her legs wider. His hands lift her skirt over her hips, and she quivers at the feeling of his denim jeans against her backside.

A hand slowly dips inside of her panties, to where her flesh has become heated and wet. Caroline clenches her fingers around the desk as he laughs softly against her ear. "Someone's been enjoying this more than they let on. I wonder, having you been harboring a crush on your teacher, sweet Caroline?" Now she's clenching her teeth as well, to fight down the moan that threatens to rise as his fingers brush against her aching center. When he slides one expert finger inside of her, hooking it subtly, one of her hands slip against the desk and she falls back against him heavily, sighing. Klaus makes a pleased sound as her bottom rubs against him. She can feel that he's – oh God, oh no, this is bad – this is – oh!

A second finger has been added, stretching her, teasing her, and she can't help the way she bucks her hips forward slightly. Her head rests against his shoulder, and she turns it to the side, burrowing her face against his throat, panting heavily. She can smell Alaric's aftershave there, where her nose is pressed, and another throb of desire races through her.

She knows this is Klaus using her, this is Klaus that is touching her so intimately, but for a moment all she can comprehend is that it's Alaric's thumb that presses against her pelvic bone, just above her aching flesh, rubbing firm circles and moving lower to rotate against her most sensitive area. It is Alaric's fingers inside of her, teasing her, spreading pleasure all through her like an explosion of fire. It's Alaric that is hard against her backside, and Alaric's chest rumbles against her back as she moans and grinds down harder on his hand, getting closer and closer and –

It rushes through her, a sweet release, all tingles and flames of heat, and only one name comes to mind that she can't help but cry out in pleasure: "Alaric!"

Alaric chuckles darkly, using his grip in her hair to press her forward until her chest is laid across the desk. His feet spread her legs wider, and she hears the sound of a zipper against denim. Her body throbs painfully at the sound, and she stretches her arms to grab the other side of the desk as he angles her hips.

"That's not very nice, sweetheart. Alaric isn't here right now. Only Klaus." And then he's thrusting inside of her from behind, roughly, animalistic. The denim scrapes across her flesh, and then abates as he pulls back before rubbing against her again as he drives into her, hard. The desk jerks forward another few inches.

He thrusts into her relentlessly, punishingly, standing between her spread legs and she can imagine the smirk on his face. One of his hands reaches around her front to stroke the throbbing flesh above where they join, and she's moaning ecstatically Oh Alaric, yes, Alaric, Alaric –

"Harder, Alaric," Caroline breathes, desperately because she's so close, she can feel it building inside of her again, and it's almost painful how good it feels as he growls and jerks her hips back, so hard it should hurt her. But as she feels is pleasure and it's spiraling up, up, oh so close –

"So help me, Caroline, if you call me Alaric one more time," He threatens, in a voice that sends chills up her spine. As he pulls back, he flips her to face him, one of his hands pressed against her throat to keep her lying back against the desk. Caroline wraps her legs around his waist, raising her hips, matching his thrusts. And it's Alaric that is hovering over top of her, his eyes gleaming at her, his chest panting as pleasure overtakes him as well. But she knows it isn't really, and she takes his threat seriously. As the peak hits her once again, rocketing through her body in an explosion of wildfire, the name she sighs is his:

"Klaus – oh –"

It's Alaric's eyes that sink shut at her sigh, but as he follows her over the edge, the pleasure of release belongs entirely to Klaus.

Klaus doesn't compel her to forget. He only compels her to keep it secret.

Caroline scoffs while she showers, rubbing her skin raw as she washes Alaric's scent off of her body. He needn't have bothered. She wouldn't breathe a word of this to anybody even if she could.

She doesn't think she'll ever be able to look at Alaric the same.

When Klaus is once again safely ensconced in his own body, he compels the memories away from Alaric before he lets him go. He decides those are his memories, and his memories alone. He will not allow anyone other than himself to keep them. Himself and Caroline. Sweet Caroline.

It's a slap in the face for Caroline, when Stefan and Klaus return to Mystic Falls. And the slaps just keep adding up. Turning her boyfriend into a hybrid? Slap. Her boyfriend being sired to the Original hybrid? Slap. Saving her life from the fatal bite her boyfriend gave her (which Klaus had ordered him to do)? Infinity slaps.

It's torture, all of it. Seeing him around town; having him come to her rescue; stupid balls and stupid bracelets and stupid romantic drawings. All the while remembering, in the back of her mind, what he did to her.

He's a good actor. He turns on the charming dimples and says all the right words. But underneath all of that, she can see it in his eyes. He wants her. He wants her to kneel at his feet and call him master and let him do all of the things he did to her before, only this time he would do them over and over again. He's a complete psycho, but after all they do say psycho's can be quite charismatic.

She rejects him, again and again, ignoring his threats but all the while knowing that one day…there would be hell to pay.

After a night spent sobbing pitifully in her bed, feeling her heart rip itself apart so violently that she knew it could never be whole again, Caroline is ready to believe anything that could give her the slightest hope. So when Tyler turns up the next morning at her front door, she doesn't question it. She doesn't ask, 'How are you alive?' or 'What happened to you last night?' or 'Does this mean Klaus is still alive, too?' or any of the other things she should be asking. Caroline feels only the joy that bounds through her as she sees him, alive and smiling at her, and her heart has somehow miraculously healed.

The tears well in her eyes and then she's throwing herself into his arms, kissing all over his face, laughing as he hugs her tightly. "You're alive," Caroline breathes, pressing her lips to his softly, lovingly. "Tyler," she whispers.

Tyler growls, and then his kiss is brutal.

Caroline doesn't question.

When his fingers thread through her hair as a smirk plays across his lips, she doesn't question it. As he grips it harder to jerk her head back, allowing him to lick a pathway up her throat, she only moans.

When he thrusts inside of her, his lips at her breast, hot and warm and whispering, "Sweet Caroline," she doesn't question it. She thinks she has never been so happy in her life.

It's later, as she's lying across his chest and feeling the first rumbles of a dark chuckle vibrate against her cheek, that a chill rolls up her spine.

"Perhaps one day we'll do this when I'm in my own body, love." He says, lightly, and everything freezes.



No, no, no. Oh, God, no! They didn't – she didn't – was it really – oh hell no, not again!

"Goddammit, Klaus!" Caroline screeches.

~ Fin ~

A/N: So, what'd you think? Too much?