'O Christmas Tree! 'O Christmas Tree!
alternative universe; oneshot; klaroline
When Carol Lockwood called her up one week before the winter holiday season offering her a job, Caroline gladly accepted. After all, how hard could it be to deliver Christmas trees to rich, lazy patrons? The first few days went over well enough. She was a bit sore, but the extra pocket money was definitely worth it. Which leads her to today, a bright, crisp winter morning at Mystic Trees.
Tyler beams up at her as she walks into the office. A charming womanizer, that one. But she will not be fooled. No, she will not. "Caroline," he calls in greeting, smile warm and evil. Very, very evil.
"Good morning Tyler," she greets amicably. "How is today looking?"
"Better now that you've shown your beautiful face," he replies, quick as ever.
Caroline rolls her eyes. "Ha ha," she says, plopping down in the seat opposite of his desk. "I meant the deliveries, you idiot."
He grins. "Just two for you. On to the Donovan house and the other to the Mikaelson Manor."
She quirks a brow at that. "The Mikaelson Manor? You mean the Mikaelsons'? The strangely reclusive family that home schools their children and we hardly ever see in town? Those Mikaelsons?"
It is Tyler's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, Caroline, those Mikaelsons."
"Perfect," she chimes, getting to her feet. This will do quite nicely. Who knew she could do some reconnaissance whilst getting paid? She is so going to win biggest gossip news among the girls this year at their pre-Christmas dinner. Success!
The girl's had spotted one of the four Mikaelson boys in town just three weeks prior. Elijah, she recalls absently. Tall, broad shoulders and a chiseled face that would put Adonis to shame. He was also incredibly polite—too much so for Caroline's taste. The man seemed to have a rod permanently shoved up his ass. Though, she had seen the way Elena practically drooled over him.
Since then, there had been no further sightings. It figured they would mail order their freaking Christmas tree. Caroline wonders idly if they order their groceries online as well. She snorts at that.
Tyler sighs. "Are you going to stand there all day, Princess? Or are you actually going to work the hours my mom is paying you?" He lifts his brows purposefully.
"Right, right," she mumbles, flipping her hair and bouncing out of the office, truck keys in hand. She has both trees loaded in no time, thanks to Jeremy (the kid has put on some muscle over the past few months, hot damn!) and she heads out. She drops off the Donovan tree without much problem. Matt makes moon eyes at her, but they are so over, it isn't even funny. What did he expect? He was still hung up over Elena when they dated. She rolls her eyes and starts up the truck, immediately heading towards the outskirts of town.
The Mikaelson manor is out on the fringes of town, tucked insides the surrounding forest. As she pulls up to it, Caroline gapes at the beauty of it. It is pristine, white and the landscaping is down right gorgeous. Whoever the Mikaelsons' are, they obviously come from wealth. She cannot keep the grin off her face as she slides out of the truck and unhooks the tailgate. The tree drops down with a woosh and she winces. This tree is bigger than the Donovan tree. She doubts she can carry it by herself. Perhaps one of the notorious handsome Mikaelson boys would help her? Scheme in mind, she waltz up to the door and knocks.
Silence greets her.
Caroline moves to knock again just as the door is pulled open. She barely has a moment to catch her breath; the man standing before her is … hot. So damn hot. Forget what she said about Elijah putting Adonis to shame—the Greek god standing before her cannot be a real, living, breathing human being. She blinks, and blinks, and blinks again before rubbing her eyes, just to be sure.
The man is leering at her, sea green eyes intense. "Can I help you?" he grumbles, and oh god, is that a British accent? Jack-fucking-pot.
Caroline snaps back to reality with enough force it gives her mental whiplash. "Tree," she says stupidly. "I brought your tree."
He blinks at her and then a slow smirk tugs upwards on his lips. "Oh," he purrs, "our tree." The way his eyes wrack up and down her body sends chills up her spine.
"Yes, but, it's heavy," she begins, fighting off the red tinges of her cheeks. She is Caroline Forbes, damn it! She doesn't get flushed in front of boys. Even super-hot, model worthy boys. "I am in need of your assistance to carry it in."
He quirks a brow at her, looking entirely too amused. "Isn't that your job, love?" he counters, smoldering cadence making her all hot and bothered. Control yourself, she thinks angrily.
"It is," she confirms, irritated. "But your family ordered the biggest tree we have and we're short staffed, so I need your help," she snaps. "So are you going to stand there smoldering or are you going to help me?"
"Smoldering?" he repeats, grinning as he saunters past her. She glances at him as he walks past and takes in the way his black long sleeved shirt hugs his torso too tight. Jesus, those abs. The things she'd do to those toned muscles while they rolled around in—
"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?" smoldering-hot-boy asks, turning to face her as he stands next to the open tailgate.
She does blush this time. "No," she lies, stomping over in a huff.
"Mm," he murmurs.
She glares and jumps up inside the bed of the truck. She grabs the tree roughly. "On three," she bites out. "One … two … three." She hoists the tree up the same time as he does. She walks forward and then jumps down, almost slipping as she does so.
"Easy there, love," infuriatingly attractive British guy calls from the opposite end.
"Just mind your end," she snaps.
His chuckle is her only reply. They get the tree inside of the house and set up without much problem. She scowls at him as he continues to smirk at her. "Well," she says awkwardly. And gees, she really is better at this normally. "You've got your tree so I'll just see myself out then."
"I'll walk you," he says, tone serious as he grabs her by the upper arm and all but drags her to the foyer. He doesn't let go immediately. She gulps. "Niklaus," he says suddenly, voice deep and impossibly sexy.
"What?" she replies, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.
"My name," he replies, kissable lips quirking upwards. "This is where you would tell me yours, love."
"Niklaus?" she says, barley holding back a giggle. "Really?"
"My family is old fashioned," he supplies. "Most people call me Klaus. As should you."
She smirks. "Well, Klaus," she purrs, "a lady never reveals her name too early. But I'll give you a hint. My last name is Forbes." And with that, she's stalking off, hair bouncing behind her.
Klaus is suddenly in front of her. And—woah, he moves fast. "Caroline," he says her name like it's a sin. "Miss Mystic Falls."
She blinks, startled. "Oh, uh, yeah?"
He leans down, breath hot on her ear. "See you around," he calls.
She watches him go, face aflame.
She has some digging to do.