A/N – I know I know, what is this? So this is the other AU/AH fic I have been working on, so I am not abandoning Breath of Life but I wanted to put this sort of prologue or introduction of the story up so you guys could know what's coming soon. I'm not sure when to start updating it regularly, after Breath of Life is done or alongside it, so I would love to hear your opinions on it!

This fic will have a lot of Klaus/Katherine as frenemies and Klaroline angst in the form of flashbacks! I hope you like it, and if you want me to continue please do let me know.

Thank you to my beta's Candis (muffintine) and Lulu (Luludancing) and of course Lea (cantcomeup from tumblr) for reading this before anyone and telling me what she thinks!

8th September.

He walked in blustering; his shoulders upright and head held high as his hands swung by his sides methodically. He had his hair slicked back perfectly for the office look, yet it somehow managed to maintain its unruly mess. His body language displayed the picture of confidence as his lips quirked up in a half smile that left too much to the imagination.

The armed security guard noticed him because of the loud click clank of his shoes against the marble floor. It had distracted him from his football game and donuts. He got up and stopped the man from entering the jammed elevator. He placed a hand on his chest with a smug smile, as if he just caught the most wanted criminal, and said authoritatively, "You can't go up; you don't have a badge!"

The blonde haired, blue-eyed man he'd stopped sighed overdramatically and said, "I need to see Katherine Pierce in missing pers-..."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I don't need an appointment."

"Look Mr..."

"No, you look," the man snarled, his hand sliding inside his jacket pocket; the guard backed off instantly, his own hand inching for the gun holstered at his hip.

This was a police station after all; caution was mandatory.

His hand tightened on the butt of his gun. The man in front of him only pulled out a wallet like object from his jacket, fidgeting to open it hastily while regularly glaring at the guard. Menacingly, he shoved it into the guard's face, who gulped nervously, stuttering out his next words, "I-I'm sorry sir, we aren't supposed to let anyone up without a badge and..."

"Yes, well, take a long hard look buddy," the man snapped in his face, his thick British accent becoming more evident, "I'm not just anyone, I'm FBI!"

Nodding lamely the guard gulped again and made way for the man to climb into the waiting elevator. Exhaling a sigh of relief at not being threatened with severe consequences, he tried to recollect the man's name on his badge.

It was the strangest name he'd ever read.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

A rookie police officer, who was awfully impressed by his FBI badge, guided him towards a conference room. A sharp, strong female voice hit his ears as he neared the room and quietly leaned against the door frame, observing the discussion ahead of him.

"... 25 years old, lives alone, check the address in the blue... blue not green file, as per last reports she was wearing a ye-..."

A short yellow, frilly sundress, high boots and a denim jacket.

"...Runs a day care center five days a week and..."

"...Occasionally works as a home nanny in the Upper East Side..."

"Rich bastards and their sexy nannies."

A ripple of laughter flowed through the room making Klaus inertly roll his eyes; that is until the woman at the front of the long desk; clearly the leader, dressed in flattering formal pants and a blazer bent over, placing her small palms on the table and righted her team with a truly frightening glower.

"A woman is missing, keep your colorful jokes to yourself or I'll put you back on traffic duty!"

Immediately, all smiling faces descended into frowns, making it clear that the dark skinned, dark haired woman held true to her threats.

"When was she seen last?" the woman demanded at the front of the room. Klaus strained his eyes to read her badge that sat idly on the table, a smile formed on his lips when he managed to read it – Katherine Pierce.

"A bakery near 52nd street, that's what it says in the report," a woman with chocolate skin and frizzy dark black hair promptly answered.

A man sitting on the right of Katherine spoke in a definite made up American accent. "How did we end up with this case now? She was only kidnapped a day ago!"

"I don't know," Katherine lamented. "The captain just shoved it in my face. It was someone else's case but now it's ours, so it's beside the point – now we just do our job and find her!"

"We have her leaving the bakery at 19:47, if we can follow her from the traffic cams..."

"We can see where she went from there," the dark-haired, accented man commented with a nod.

"That's of no use," Klaus interrupted stepping into the office drawing Katherine's attention to him. "You need to find out where she was kidnapped..."

The woman sitting across him scrunched her brows and contradicted him. "How will we do that without seeing where all she went after she left the bakery?"

"She could have gone a thousand inconsequential places..." Klaus began but Katherine haughtily cut him off.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, holding up a hand to the man next to her who was about to say something.

"Niklaus Mikaelson. You may call me Klaus," he said flashing his badge in her face and smirking at the way she frowned while inspecting it, clearly contemplating the meaning of his intrusion.

Straightening her back nervously she quipped, "How may I help you ?"

Klaus grinned at the mock respect in her voice and repeated himself. "Call me Klaus."

"Does she have a car... Elijah?" Klaus asked, ignoring Katherine's glare, and picking up the case file ahead of him as he took a moment to read the man's name on his badge.

"Uhmm, yeah," Elijah sputtered, perplexed as he flicked through the report pages. "She has a blue... something…"

"Hyundai...," the other woman provided, reading from the file.

"Bonnie," she introduced herself with a nod and he responded in like, his eyes stuck on the missing girls face on the big screen. "What does her car have to do with anything?"

"Well she had to get around somehow," Klaus answered, prying his eyes from the girl's photo and settling them on Bonnie. "Is her car at her house?"

Instantly everyone in the room flipped through the files frantically, searching in vain for the answer to his question, all the while Katherine stared at him suspiciously.

Condescendingly Klaus crossed his arms and in his most judgy voice declared, "I had heard such fine things about the NYPD."

"Look Mr. Mikael-...," Katherine rounded on him furiously


"Whatever," she chided, "we got this case about an hour ago and you just interrupted our first briefing, so hold off on the judging for a while."

"And why the hell are you even here?" she added, frustrated when he only smirked harder and shrugged his shoulders.

"The FBI has sent me for to assist you," Klaus informed as he picked up another file from the table. Katherine slammed it back down.

"Well, tell them I don't need any assistance," she sneered at him.

"Well too bad, you've got it," he digressed as he turned back to her dazed team.

"So any idea if her car is at home or she took it with her?"

"Uhm in the report of her house search they don't list the car," Bonnie said. "I'm guessing she took it"

"What are you thinking?" Elijah raised his tailored brow at him.

With a deep breath Klaus launched into his explanation, "Her car has to be somewhere, whoever took her wouldn't be stupid enough to take the car as well."

"Because we would be looking for it," Katherine supplied and Klaus nodded solemnly.

"Search the five mile radius around the bakery, her house, her day care centre and the houses where she babysits for her car."

"Wait a minute," Katherine piped up, but thoroughly ignoring her Klaus ploughed forward.

"And contact all the impound lots to see if they picked up any similar cars with the make and model in the past 48 hours..."

"This is my case," Katherine hissed, irked beyond belief. She pulled on Klaus arm to get him to look at her. "You are not the lead; I'll be giving the orders."

"Katherine...," Klaus began exasperatedly.

"Detective Pierce," she corrected sternly.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes at her and stood tall, walking into her face and growled, "I'm from the FBI, where people are actually trained and talented and I've been degraded to this place. Trust me, no one is more pissed about me being here than me."

Several pair of angry eyes turned on him at this comment, only fueling his superiority complex. Turning his face away from a seething Katherine he glanced up and down at the room and said, "I know you don't want me here; I know you don't like me, but frankly I couldn't care less. I am only here because I've been told this is a high priority case..."

"High priority?" some guy from the end of the room butted in; the same one who had made the crude comment on nannies and rich Upper East siders. "It's just some kidnapped woman," he added disbelievingly.

At this, Klaus lost his nonchalant attitude and narrowed his eyes threateningly to slits, reassuming Katherine position; palms flat on the table, leaning forward slowly with a fire in his eyes as he stared down at the man across the table. "She's just some kidnapped woman to you. To someone else, she might just be his entire life. Disrespect the victim one more time and I'll send you somewhere a lot worse than traffic duty."

Pulling himself to his full height and taking one last look at everyone's nervous faces he declared, "Love me or hate me; I don't give a fuck. I'm not leaving until I find Caroline Forbes."

He sat in his ram shackled hotel room, spread on the tiny chair with contents of several files spread ahead of him on the floor. Running a hand through his messed up hair he sighed for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to make sense of the data before him. Grabbing the whiskey bottle with his free hand and chugging it generously, he re-re-read the letter in his other hand. Finally with a shake of his head, he crumpled it and threw it away, turning his attention back to the report in front of him.

Occasionally his eyes would drift to his cell phone placed on the table, praying that any second now he would see the words 'Katherine Pierce NYPD' flashing on it; that she would call and tell him they found the car, that they could get a move on, take one step forward in the damn case.

Not bloody likely.

He knew very well that they wouldn't find the car so soon, they had a lot of areas to search and it would be well into the morning before they could get any lead to work. But he was restless, which is why he was sitting and drinking rather than sleeping, he had tried but he just couldn't sleep.

He was being haunted, and it wouldn't stop until he finished his task.

Placing his hands on his eyes and rubbing frantically to reduce the burning, he attempted to calm himself but it was of no use as his mind reeled back into another painful memory.

A gush of the cool night breeze swept over his bare chest; roused from his deep sleep, he spread his tired muscles and turned over, adamantly keeping his eyes closed. His hand immediately extended outwards expecting to feel the soft supple skin of his bed partner, but instead it landed on the cold bed-sheet, forcing him to sit up with a jerk.

Rubbing his eyes thoroughly he searched for his missing companion and let out a sigh of relief as he got out of the comfort of the warm bed. He pulled on his boxers and walked towards the small woman crouched down on the floor, her back hunched and facing away from him. Her hair was a perfect example of after-sex hair and she was wearing only his discarded shirt.

"Come back to bed," he softly said, approaching her rocking figure.

She startled when he touched her back lightly, telling him that she had been extremely engrossed in whatever it is that she was doing. She sat on the cold floor with dozens of papers and photos ahead of her, a marker in her hand and a hot cup of coffee next to her.

"What are you doing, love?" Klaus asked in a concerned voice as he rubbed a hand soothingly down her back. He noticed how her hair stood on end at his touch.

"I can't sleep...," she muttered incoherently, picking up a printed piece of paper and bringing it dangerously close to her eye. She squinted her eyes as she tried to read it. "I just... my mind is boggled, I can't stop thinking..."

"I know."

"And I just... kept thinking… had to stop," she stumbled, flicking her eyes all around her little mess on the floor as if trying to memorize all of it in an instant. "I have to... I can't stop thinking – what if we—"

"Love, love," he said firmly, holding her shoulders and trying to get her to look at him. "I know you're worried, I know... I understand. Put it down." He gently eased a paper from her hand and placed it back on the floor using his muscles to turn her around to face him.

"I think I saw i-..."

"Look at me, look at me," he commanded and slowly she turned her baby blue eyes to his and he smiled despite knowing that he was only giving her false hope. "You need sleep, you need to rest."

"No, I can't...," she cried and he put his hands around her waist pulling her into him as she sobbed while spluttering her weak defenses.

"Sshhh," he soothed in her ear, caressing her arm and lightly kissing her cheek. "You remember what I promised you... remember?"

Meekly, she nodded against him, nestling her face against his neck.

"Say it, love."

"I remember."

"I promised you, and I'm going to fulfill it understand?" he pledged and she nodded again, raising her head to look at him properly and give him the best smile she could muster in her frazzled state.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, running a hand down her smooth tear soaked cheek.

"Yes," she whispered without hesitation; he smiled in victory.

"Then come back to bed, Caroline."