Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Seasons are changing, you're cold and you're feeling alone
The lights aren't bright anymore, and the spirit's just gone
Stories by magic and carols don't make any sense
Got no one to share it with, so you put up a fence

"Anything good on Tinder?"

Caroline nearly chokes on her coffee, her phone fumbling out of her hand and falling screen-first on the carpeted floor.

"Aurora!" she stutters, nursing a stinging lip from the too-hot beverage as she bends over to pick up her phone. She accidentally swiped right on a total loser and got a match, but other than that, intact. "Hi," she says in a slightly shaky tune, locking her screen and putting it away. "Good morning, Aurora."

Among the many issues with Aurora De Martel, her complete disregard for her employees' right to privacy is probably the one that grates on Caroline's nerves the most.

The second is that silly accent she thinks no one can tell isn't real. The woman walks through life as though she was born and raised in a Victorian townhouse in Mayfair when, in fact, she's from Gering, Nebraska. Two years in London during college and she actually keeps a straight face when she tells the story of how she caught the accent.

If she didn't run one of the most successful up and coming event planning companies in New York, Caroline wouldn't put up with either of those things. But alas...

One day, she tells herself whenever Aurora sneaks up on her while she's on her phone during a break and starts teasing her about her (failed) tinder dates, making her feel pathetic for even having a profile. That's a tad sad, no? Having to resort to apps to find a date. Poor thing.

One day…

Her boss greets her with an overly sweet smile that is too cynical to be sincere. "Slow morning?"

“Actually, I was waiting for you to arrive.” Caroline puts down her coffee and picks up three binders from her desk. “I have all the files you asked for.”

Aurora hums in acknowledgment, her eyebrows pinching just slightly at the center. "What are these again?"

Caroline had four total hours of sleep between two nights because Aurora dumped this very urgent work on her lap, and now she doesn't even remember what it's about anymore.

Deep breaths, Caroline. Deep breaths.

"Red binder is for the museum fundraiser. Green binder is for the charity auction for the children's hospital. And the white binder is for Mystic Falls' Christmas Festival."

"Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten about that one," Aurora says, handing the white binder back to her. "You can keep it; I won't need it."

"What?" Caroline blinks. "We're not doing the festival anymore? I spent such a long time -"

"Don't fret, darling, it'll give you wrinkles," Aurora says with a dismissive wave, turning on her heels and starting for the door. It’s her way to signal she’s done giving you attention and now it’s your turn to chase her. “We are not doing the festival anymore. You are.”

"Wait. What?" Caroline rushes to catch up. "What do you mean, I'm doing the festival?"

"I simply do not have the time to take over some small-town festivities. The auction and the fundraiser are taking up all of my attention, and Lucien is up to his ears as my right-hand man. So this is yours, then. You've done a lot of work on it already, clearly, you should be fine. You know where Mystic Rivers is, right?"

"It's Mystic Falls, and yea -"

"Didn't you have a sister there?"

"A friend. We went to college together, she's assistant to the mayor now."

"Oh. Well. Some are less fortunate, I suppose."

Caroline frowns, deciding to not even ask what she means by that. "Aurora, please -" she holds her boss' arm, stopping her before she reaches the elevator so they can at least face each other while they talk. While a small-town festival might be no big deal to Aurora De Martel, Caroline wants it to be acknowledged that she is having a mini heart attack. "Are you sure you want to leave this entirely in my hands? It's four days' worth of festivities, lots of activities planned -"

"Are you telling me you can't do it?"

"No! I mean, yes. I mean - I can do it," Caroline fumbles. "It's just... I've been here for five years, and you have never put me in charge of anything. I've never gone solo."

"Then I guess this is your big break. Besides, you're selling yourself short. I'm sure you can take care of a handful of volunteers, some pine trees and a moose or two," Aurora chuckles. Caroline gives her an awkward grin that’s one scrunched up nose away from a grimace. She chooses not to break it to Aurora there are no moose in Virginia. "I know you think I don't see my employees, but I have watched you closely, Caroline. You have one of the most invaluable skills to thrive in this business."

She stops, taken aback by what sounds a lot like a compliment. "Really?"

"Of course. You're good at getting people to do things they don't want to. Like this conversation right now, which I definitely do not want to be having," Aurora offers, punctuating her line with a sly little smile.

Caroline can't tell whether she's being serious or if this is her version of a joke. "Uhm… Thank you, I guess," she replies. "So... I’m going to Mystic Falls? I think?"

“Wonderful!” Aurora immediately swirls away to hit the elevator button. "I have a meeting now to prep for the auction. Do make sure to leave all the relevant information at hand in case I need anything. Or better yet, find Lucien. He’ll be my contact point while you're in Magic Falls."

Of course. So predictable... Ship her off to do a small job with little to no resources or assistance while Lucien gets to sparkle at the big events by her side. Like anyone needed any more proof that they're banging.

"Don't worry about it," she says. "I'll have everything in order and Mystic Falls will be a success."

"I sure hope so," Aurora offers as she steps onto the elevator, flipping her shiny red hair over her shoulder. "Anything you do there will reflect on me. Your job depends on it."

The woman waves at her, wishing her a nice trip to South Dakota as the elevator door closes.

"Merry Christmas, bitch," Caroline mutters under her breath, stomping back to her room to call Elena and let her know they'll be having an unplanned college reunion. She better get started on the margaritas.

"I need to get in touch with Marcellus about the bonuses," Klaus tells his assistant as he puts on his leather gloves, getting ready for the biting wind waiting for him outside. The weather in New York at this time of the year makes him feel right back in England.

"On it," Joshua replies, head down as he types away on his phone.

"And then we have to schedule a board meeting first thing Monday morning. Have to put the contract up for ratification."

Josh whips his face up. "Uh... What contract?"

Klaus gives him a stern look. "Mikaelson Manor." Josh' eyes widen in terror when it doesn't ring any bells. "The sale."

"I... Oh, God..." He starts going through his phone, shaky fingers swiping up and down as he searches for any messages he might have missed, no doubt fearing Klaus might throw him from the roof of the Mikaelson Tower for the crime of being clueless. "I'm so sorry, sir, I don't see anything - I must have missed it, I don't know what -"

"Joshua," Klaus speaks around a weary sigh. "Breathe, will you? You look like I'm about to have a lawsuit on my hands. I have no use for you if you're dead."

"It's my first week, Mr. Mikaelson," Josh wheezes out.

"Yes," Klaus says impatiently. "It shows."

The least Klaus expects from his PAs is that they always stay on top of everything. His time is far too precious for him to offer detailed explanations or spell out his needs. It's the most fundamental part of their jobs to make his extremely complicated, busy life easier. However... It's unlikely that Joshua, who started on the job two weeks ago, would have heard anything on the matter of the manor. It had been on the market for quite some time, and a proposal reached his personal email through a third party just the night before. He had some free time on his schedule - about 24 hours, give or take - and decided to settle this once and for all, so he can finally be free of that damned house. It's a weight on his back he can frankly do without.

As much as he wishes his assistants could read his thoughts from time to time so he wouldn't even have to waste valuable seconds and calories speaking to them, Alexa is not yet that advanced that it can anticipate his decisions and eliminate his need for human interaction. He should text that tosser Bezos about that.

"I just really, really need this job."

"Don't beg, that's awfully unbecoming," Klaus grumbles, stepping out of the elevator onto the roof, wrapping his scarf around his neck as he stalks off to the helicopter already waiting for him.

Joshua is very green and a little too desperate for Klaus' taste, but as far as assistants go, he's not the worst. Not yet, anyway. Klaus goes through them faster than he goes through button shirts. Each worse than the last. His last one didn't even stick long enough for him to remember her name. She broke down and started crying in the middle of a board meeting when he asked her a question she didn't know the answer for. Klaus merely stared at her until she ran out of the room. He never saw her again. HR sent him several messages about work-place etiquette and caring for his employees' mental health, but how was any of that his fault, he fails to see. His assistants are paid handsomely; the least they can do is their bloody jobs.

He is secretly hoping Josh will fare out better than that girl. Not that that is particularly hard; she left the bar in hell. It'll be impossible to find a replacement PA so close to the Holidays.

"I will let this one slip," he says magnamously, "but if you don't get my brother on the line in the next five minutes, I will fire you."

"Which brother?"

"The only one who's of any use to me. Elijah, of course."

"May I ask -"

"Keep up, will you, Joshua? We're closing the sale of the Mikaelson Manor tomorrow. I want Elijah to be aware of it."

"Yes, of course. On it."

"And let him know we'll be arriving around noon."

"Uh... We will be arriving?"

Klaus motions towards the helicopter. "Clearly."

"I'm coming with you?"

"No, I'll have an elf take care of business for me while I'm in Mystic Falls," he deadpans. "What the bloody hell do you think you were hired for?"

Josh's cheeks burn pink. "I didn't know -"

"Now you do. Let Elijah know," he repeats, climbing on the helicopter. "We'll be at the airport in ten minutes. The jet is waiting."

Elijah checks his phone. Three messages since he left the office, but nothing urgent. He can spare another half hour or so before he needs to get back. Small town though Mystic Falls might be, there's plenty of work piled up on his desk, more than a fair share of unhappy townsfolk seeking an audience and not enough time in his inconveniently short days to handle it all.

Elena informed him that her friend was almost there and he thought it was a good moment to stretch his legs and give the event planner who'll be in charge of their Christmas festival a tour of the town square, where the event will be held. It was his assistant's idea to hire a company to do a more professional work instead of using the local committees. He can't deny she made an important point when she noted that leaving the funds and the executive decisions in the hands of local amateurs would mean more work for the mayor's office - meaning, him. Not only they'd have to overlook everything, they'd need to stay on top of all the expenses, not to mention act as middle-men on the unending disagreements that were bound to arise, as these things seem to go. With a hired company, all they had to do was sign one budget check and then get ready for a lawsuit if they do anything wrong.

When Elena came up with the name of De Martel Elite Events, Elijah did a full online sweep and liked what he saw. It’s a relatively new enterprise, but with solid references, a reliable list of clients and an impressive portfolio. Besides, Elena's inside contact managed to get them a generous discount, saying they were looking to expand their operations to different states and cities outside of New York. Everything seemed perfect.

Except Elijah was under the impression he had hired Aurora De Martel to spearhead the efforts, not some twenty-something junior employee.

"Tell me again about this friend of yours," he says to his assistant.

"Caroline is fantastic," Elena repeats for what is likely the millionth time. She's been hyping up her friend's capabilities to try and quench Elijah's concerns ever since they got the memo saying she would be the person in charge, not Miss De Martel, who is otherwise engaged with previously agreed contracts. If there is one thing Elijah does not appreciate in the least is being dismissed. Not a lot of people have the nerve to do that to a Mikaelson. "She's the most tenacious and accomplished person I have ever met. A little intense, maybe, but her attention to details definitely makes up for it. She also has fantastic taste. You saw her plans for the festival. She did it all by herself."

"Yes, outstanding. But organizing an event and making sure it happens without glitches are not the same as brainstorming ideas."

"Caroline did so well as the main planner for Kappa Kappa Gamma, people were hiring her to run bigger events at national level before she even graduated. She gets things done."

"I'm sure your sorority was lovely, Elena, but we do not have any room for mistakes. The festival is scheduled to happen over several days, with a number of different activities which require precise logistics and time management. Are you certain she can take on all of it?"

“Absolutely. Easy peasy.”

"And you are certain you want to vouch this strongly for her? Even at the expense of your own credibility?"

Elijah expects Elena to choke on her answer and back track, exposing the cracks in her confidence. Instead, Elena sticks up her chin, giving him a reproachful look. "I'd trust Caroline with my life. So trust her like you would trust me."

Elijah can't help but smile. Whether at her aplomb or her loyalty to her friend, he can't tell.

"Elena!"

They both turn to see a young woman rushing towards them, beaming like sunshine. His first impression of Miss Forbes is that she is… Very blonde, which seems fitting. Beautiful, bubbly and probably not someone Elijah would entrust with this job, given the option. Maybe he shouldn't trust Elena so much, after all.

"It's so good to see you," Elena greets her friend with a tight hug.

"You, too! It seems like yesterday that I last saw you. You haven't changed a thing!" As they pull away, Caroline Forbes gapes as her eyes fall on the town square behind them. "Oh my God, is this the place you mentioned?"

"Yeah, its -"

"Elena, this is so good! Actually, more than good, it's perfect!" She starts walking towards the center of the square, gesticulating effusively as she talks. "I can see everything already. We'll get a really big tree and set it up right next to that gazebo, where we can have the choir and Santa's chair. And then the Winter Village can be on this side, and we can have the food stands over there -" She stops talking when she turns back to Elena and instead finds him.

"Please, do go on," he says affably. "I'm rather enjoying it."

"I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry." Her lips twist into an embarrassed frown. "You're -"

"Elijah Mikaelson, also known as the mayor of this lovely town, yes. Hello, Miss Forbes. Welcome to Mystic Falls."

"Of course, I know who you are. I’m sorry, Mr. Mikaelson, I got a little carried away."

"No need to apologize. Miss Gilbert did tell me you could be intense."

"Intense," she scoffs, exchanging a glance with her friend. "That's one word for it, sure. Again, I'm very sorry, Mr. Mikael -"

"Please. Mr. Mikaelson was my father. Call me Elijah."

"Elijah," she repeats with a smile, putting her hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," he replies, shaking her hand. "So. I see you've got everything planned."

"I sent all of the plans for approval last week," she says with an edge of concern. "Did you not -"

"Yes, I saw it. There's a point or two I would like to further discuss, but overall, it all seemed rather sound. Were the ideas all yours?"

"I did have help from the rest of the staff, but I was the senior person overseeing the project, so I did adapt and approve everything myself. Why? Something not to your liking?"

He slants a quick glance at Elena, who's arching her eyebrows at him in a See? way. "Not at all. I was just curious. It's quite impressive, actually. You barely set foot here and already you have a full vision of how everything will work."

"Full disclosure, I'm a little smothering. FYI," she says with a shrug. "But this is just the cutest location I've ever had for an event. This whole town looks like something out of a Hallmark movie. My inspiration juices are just flowing. The photos Elena sent did not do it justice."

"I told you you'd love it," Elena says. "And here I have the full list of volunteers you asked for."

Caroline takes the folder from Elena, quickly inspecting the list. "Oh, my. That's a lot more volunteers than I was expecting. This is amazing."

"That's one of the things I was hoping to further discuss with you, Miss Forbes," Elijah says. "If you walk around for a bit, you'll see that the whole town has been taken with excitement for the festival. With recession and subsequent budget cuts, there hasn't been anything like this in many years. I faced a lot of resistance from the town council in order to get approval for the festival. I'm personally of the belief that anything that's good for morale is worth the investment, and it gives a lot of small businesses plenty of opportunities. I had to rally some important donors in order to make it happen, and they'll be looking into the end results. So you can understand why this is of utmost importance to me, especially since this is my first year in office. I want to leave a good impression."

"Absolutely," Caroline replies with a solemn nod. "Do not worry about a thing, Mr. - Elijah. I got your back. This will be a festival for the ages."

"I'm counting on it. And I'm here to help you with whatever you need. Anything I can do to make your life easier, let me know."

"Thank you!"

Caroline's smile is bright and infectious, reaching every corner of her face. Elijah usually absconds from people like that. In his family, they are born with a naturally low tolerance for optimistic behavior. Elena is as much as he can take. Caroline Forbes is... On another level entirely. For some reason, however, he finds her hard to deny.

"Should we get some coffee before we head to the office to discuss the final details?" Elena offers, clapping her hands together once. "Not to be a buzz-kill, but I'm freezing my ass out here."

"I could definitely use a coffee. Or three," Caroline agrees. "Lead the way."

It's like a real Christmas miracle.

As soon as Caroline stepped out of the car, all of the mounting anxiety that had been eating her up went poof, and in its wake came a rush of inspiration. Out with the biting nerves, in with the creative genius that got her that coveted job at De Martel Elite Events as a newly graduate with little real-life experience besides a small agency in Jersey.

One look at that adorable town square and Caroline had the whole vision for the event come to her like an epiphany. It’s exactly like those small towns from holiday movies, with its cute shop fronts and well-manicured front lawns. Even the snow dusting the trees and the rooftops is perfect. After six years living in New York, Caroline learned how to scrunch up her nose at snow, always thinking of the mud that invariably follows, the ruined shoes and the accidents waiting to happen. Now, she’s crossing her fingers for the forecast to be right about northern Virginia's prospect for a very white Christmas. Atmosphere is everything.

She makes small talk to Elena and Elijah while they wait in line in front of a food truck close to the town hall to get their coffees, but her mind is on overdrive, going through all the details and already thinking of some new suggestions to make. The place is slightly bigger than she'd anticipated, and she hadn't had good visuals of the clock tower looming over the square yet. She needs to ask Elijah if he has any plans to decorate the clock, and if not, to make a compelling argument as to why he should look into it because it will be absolutely -

"Hi, excuse me. Sorry, sorry, excuse me -"

Caroline's thoughts are interrupted by a man shouldering his way past them to get to the front of the line.

"Someone's in a hurry," Elena mutters under her breath.

"So are we," Caroline replies, taking a step forward and poking the man on the shoulder. "Hi, maybe you missed it, but there's a line here."

"I'm so sorry, but this is for my boss," the man replies curtly, not even granting her a look.

"Who's your boss, the Queen of England?” Caroline snaps. “Trust me when I say we're not waiting in line in the freezing cold because we enjoy feeling like popsicles. We all have places to be."

"Ma'am..." the man starts, turning to her with such a pleading look about him Caroline feels almost sorry. "I don't want to be doing this, I hate being the dick who cuts through the line, ok? But this is my second week on the job, and my boss - who may very well be a lost English royal, actually - is cranky on a good day. This is not a good day."

"English royal, you say?" Elijah asks, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Caroline takes in the man - smart suit that is not expensive but tries very hard to be, too much hair product, the slight twitch of someone who's been injecting caffeine to survive and a horror in his eyes that can only come from working for self-important, arrogant Wall Street jerks. A PA, she concludes.

Caroline knows the type well. New York is crawling with them, cutting through lines as though their next breaths depend on it, weeping in subway cars as they go back home at the end of the day.

And where there's a desperate PA...

She turns around, and sure enough. Parked just a few feet away down the street is a shiny black sedan.

"Is that your boss in the big town car?"

The man's eyes go big. "No, that's not - please, don't -"

"I just want to have a word."

"Perhaps you shouldn't -" Elijah starts, but she waves him off.

"It's ok, I'll be right back."

"I'm so fired," the man whines as she saunters towards the car.

Caroline flips her hair back, plastering her best pageant smile on - sweet and practiced and full of condescension - before knocking on the tinted window.

Eyebrows arched in mild curiosity framing piercing blue-grey eyes, a chiseled jawline and rosy fat lips. All the looks of someone who was born into money and power and a stupidly blessed genetic pool. It throws her for a split second, but Caroline recovers fast. Those are all the marks of a class A douchebag.

"Hi," she starts. "Quick question. Did you just tell your employee over there that his job depends on him cutting through that line to get you a cup of coffee?"

The man blinks away, to a point behind her, then back. "Probably," he replies, disinterested. "Though I believe the expression I used was post haste."

Caroline lets out an indignant breath. Maybe if Aurora hadn't given her a very similar talk just before she left for the most important job of her life, she would let this go. It's none of her business, after all. But with her boss' not-so-veiled threat still ringing vividly in her mind, it's all Caroline can do not to physically assault the man.

She draws in a breath, stuffing out her chest as righteousness rises inside her like a tidal wave. "You know, terrorizing your employee is not the way to keep him on his toes. In fact, studies show that a stressed-out worker is more likely to act impulsively and make poorly thought decisions that will lead to mistakes. So, trust me when I say that is not the way to go."

The man's lips draw into a slow smile. "Studies?" he parrots, sarcasm bleeding through his accent.

"Yes. It's a scientific fact. But I can also speak from experience, as someone who has heard those exact same words."

"And how's that worked out for you?"

"Badly."

"Forgive me, love, but you don't seem like someone who's floundering."

"I'm very self-assured," she states with a little smile.

"I can see that.” He flashes her a pair of insolent dimples that honestly make her want to hit him with the binder in her hand. "It was a joke."

"What?"

"Young Joshua there is having a rather hard time adapting to his new role and he seems to be under the impression that I'm some kind of boogie man."

"And you're enjoying it?" she asks in a tone that makes the full extent of her reproach clear.

"Of course he is," Elijah says as he walks up to the car. "That has been his aspiration since he was a little boy. Where others would want to be astronauts and deep-sea divers, he wanted to leave a mark by becoming someone's worst nightmare. Finally found your heart's calling, Niklaus?"

Niklaus lets out a hearty laugh, thoroughly entertained by Elijah's incredibly specific and caustic comment. "What can I say? I do love a good scare."

Caroline's gaze goes from one man to the other, blinking slowly. "You two know each other?"

"Unfortunately well, I would say. Miss Forbes, this is my little brother, Niklaus. Niklaus, this is Caroline Forbes. She's in charge of our Christmas festival this year."

Caroline's jaw drops as a luminous smile breaks onto the man's face, the sheer horror of the situation registering like gold on her expression.

Niklaus just happens to be Klaus Mikaelson, the youngest CEO ahead of one of the top 20 richest conglomerates in the country, the Mikaelson Business Group. There's hardly a person who hasn’t heard about that family. They're something like the Kardashians of the business world, a bunch of trust fund kids being eccentric with the pitless well of their inheritances.

Caroline's first instinct upon finding out she'd be working with Elijah Mikaelson, former CEO turned small town politician, was to obviously google the hell out of his life, but Elena was very particular that Caroline should avoid mentioning the connections. She didn't go into details, though - which only left Caroline itching for the juicy bits she will make sure to squeeze out of Elena once this job is done.

So in order to avoid any possible slips, she chose to redact any previous knowledge she had on the Mikaelsons and avoid adding to it. In hindsight, that was a big mistake. Maybe if she had done her research, she would've realized who she was talking to before she came down raining daggers on her boss' VIP brother.

"I'll take a hunch here and say the pleasure is all mine," Klaus says, entirely too pleased with how mortified she must obviously look.

To her immense luck, the hopeless PA comes rushing back with two extra large cups of coffee, rendering her response unnecessary.

"I've got your coffee, sir!" he announces with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Also, just want to clarify I have nothing to do with this lady here, she's insane."

"Hey! I was trying to defend you."

"That's no way to treat someone showing major concerns for the well-being of complete strangers, Joshua," Klaus says. She can't tell whether he's being sarcastic or genuinely scolding his employee, but Joshua's eyes widen in terror all the same. "Did you know studies show stress leads to mistakes?"

Joshua's face scrunches up into a confused frown. "I... what?"

"Just get in the car before my coffee gets cold," Klaus orders, and his PA is instantly on the move. "This has been lovely, but I have some actual business to see to. Need to speak to you," he tells his brother.

"Yes, I got your insufferably curt email. It's already on my schedule."

"Good." Klaus then turns his attention back to her, smiling affably. "Miss Forbes," he nods, and then rolls the window back up as the car drives away.

As soon as he turns around the corner, she feels a violent heat creeping up her neck as embarrassment hits her with full force. "Oh my God!" she exclaims, flailing. "I am so sorry! I had no idea -"

Elijah puts a palm out. "Please, do not apologize."

"I did not mean to insult -"

"You should," he cuts her off gently, the hints of a wicked little smile dancing on the edge of his mouth. For the first time, Caroline can see some resemblance there, though it's faint. "Niklaus is a pest. Watching you berate him has been the highlight of my week. If I hadn't hired you yet, I would definitely do it now. Fantastic work."

As Elena arrives with their coffees, Elijah leads the way back to the town hall. Caroline lags behind.

"Did I just screw up?" she whispers to her friend over the hem of her coffee, trying to take comfort from the fact Elena still remembers her usual order by heart: double shot cappuccino with sugar and lots of cream.

"Not at all. They have a weird love-hate relationship."

"That was Klaus Mikaelson," she lets out a sigh that is half disbelief and half despondency. It's the kind of story she can't even say will be a funny anecdote for her to share at dinner parties one day, because no one will believe it. "I just scolded Klaus freaking Mikaelson. To his face."

"It was glorious!" Elena laughs. Caroline slants her a glare. "Oh, stop it, Caroline. He's a prick."

"And a billionaire. And the head of the Mikaelson Business Group. And the mayor's brother."

"You're Elijah's favorite person right now."

"Elena, I don't think you get how serious this is. It's my first big job coordinating an event all on my own at De Martel's. I have to make this work because I will be fired if anything goes even slightly wrong. If there's a single line in the local newspaper criticizing the festival, my boss will have my ass out in the street in 2 seconds. And if Elijah sends an e-mail to file a complaint on how I spoke to his brother -"

"Caroline," Elena stops walking, putting a hand on her shoulder and motioning for her to breathe in and out. "Relax, ok? I know this is a big deal for you and I will do whatever I can to make sure everything goes as smooth as butter. Elijah is gonna be in DC in a few years, and I would really like to make sure he'll keep me on his staff when he gets there. So I am saying this from the bottom of my heart: if you tell Klaus Mikaelson to burn in hell and catch an STD, Elijah will make a statue in your honor and have it installed right in front of the Mikaelson Tower in Manhattan like the fearless little girl in Wall Street. So don't worry about it. You're more than cool, you just got yourself extra kudos." Elena drops her hand. "Are you good or should I get Elijah to tell you that himself?"

Caroline cocks her head, giving Elena a look. She doesn't feel exactly reassured, but she's sufficiently convinced Aurora won't be hearing about this. "That was the weirdest pep talk I’ve ever gotten. But I think I'm good."

"Great!" She links her arm through Caroline’s as the two of them continue their way to the town hall. "Let's discuss your thoughts for the clock tower, then."

"Decided to fulfill your Grinch dreams and show up to steal Christmas at last, brother?"

Klaus' mouth curls into a sardonic little smile, but he doesn't lift his eyes from his laptop, barely pauses on his typing. "Uncomfortable chair, the smell of dust and your appalling excuse for a sense of humor. Home sweet home," he quips. "Careful, Elijah. Becoming mayor of this village is making you pedestrian. Perhaps it's time you go back to New York, breathe some fresh big city air into your lungs before you get permanent brain damage."

"Strenuous doses of stress and humiliating one's employees. 'Tis the dream."

"I wasn't humiliating anyone. It was a joke."

"Ah, yes. The famous Klaus Mikaelson sense of humor: blunt as a rock to the head and only amusing to himself," Elijah says around a sarcastic sigh as he enters the study at last, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the desk where Klaus has been perched doing work since he arrived at the manor. "It's not like you have a history of firing your PAs on whims or anything."

Klaus shoots a glare towards his brother. "Speaking of employees... You should have a word with yours about how utterly stupid it is to be openly hostile towards your biggest donors. It's bad for politics and for your silly little festival."

"Miss Forbes is not my employee, she was simply hired through a company to do a temporary job. However, I must say I am tempted to offer her a permanent contract with a handsome pay out of my own pocket after today."

“Rewarding bad behavior as always, I see.”

"Well, I did grow up with you."

Klaus finally stops typing, directing his full attention towards Elijah. His brother's self-satisfied smile grates on Klaus' volatile temper.

"I didn't come here to waste time," he says drily, retrieving a folder from his briefcase and sliding it over to Elijah. "Here."

Elijah's humor melts off his face as he reads over the papers inside the folder. "So you're determined to sell."

"The board is determined to sell."

"The board will do whatever you tell them to do."

"The board can also remove me from office if I don't do as I'm told."

"Let's not pretend it's not the other way around, Niklaus. You have every single one of those suits wrapped around your little finger. You call the shots, they say amen."

Klaus leans back on his chair, propping his hands on the desk and twining his fingers together. Ever since he announced his intention - masqueraded as a board decision - to sell Mikaelson Manor, Elijah has been subtly making his displeasure known. Klaus even suspects he might have personally acted to dissuade some possible buyers, who mysteriously lost interest after paying a visit to the place for inspections. Now that the sale is imminent, Elijah no longer bothers to mask his disappointment.

There's just something about being at the raw end of Elijah's bitter judgement that deeply unsettles Klaus. It's always been like this, ever since they were children. The two of them are not cut out of the same fabric, couldn't be more different if they tried. And yet the mere thought of not living up to Elijah's impossibly high standards gets Klaus’ nerves in disarray.

He made sure to shield himself against it, though, poised to face his brother's resistance.

"This house has been empty for years, Elijah. It costs money just to keep it and it serves no purpose whatsoever," he argues.

"There are millions of things -"

"Yes, we've been through all of your stunning ideas," he cuts him off curtly. "None of which have pleased the board's appetite for profit."

"Stop putting this on the board, Niklaus. The profit you'll make from selling this estate means nothing in the company's annual revenue and is a grain of salt in your personal earnings. No one will even notice it, just as no one notices the money used to keep it."

"You know, I expected Rebekah and even Kol to offer this kind of opposition, but you? I didn’t peg you for a sentimental fool, Elijah."

"This is our family's home, Niklaus. We grew up here. Don't you think it's only natural to have some attachment? You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything."

"No, I don't," he asserts firmly. "I'm a practical man, Elijah, and there's nothing practical in sentimentality. When you stepped away from the company and gave up your seat on the board, you also gave up any rights to argue against our unanimous decisions."

"I'm not speaking as a board member; I'm speaking as your brother."

"And as your brother, I am allowing you to see a confidential contract and know of the details before the sale goes through, a courtesy I would not bestow upon anyone else. Now, will you be a problem?"

Elijah is quiet for a moment, his expression betraying absolutely nothing. His impassiveness makes Elijah both impossible to beat at poker and terribly unnerving. Klaus prides himself in having an acute sense of awareness, capable of reading a room and unearthing intentions like few, but his talents have never worked on Elijah. He feels exposed under his brother's gaze, incapable of knowing what's going through his mind while rendered defenseless before his scrutiny.

Elijah knows him too well, and Klaus detests to feel found out.

"No," his brother finally concedes, shoulders dropping with a tired breath as he closes the folder and slips it back to Klaus. "I was merely... You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter."

"Good," Klaus says simply, ready to end this conversation before it gets even thornier.

"Are you leaving tonight?" Elijah asks.

"I'll be staying for another day or two to see this through and make sure we take stock of any valuables and possible assets still here. We'll have everything transferred elsewhere, sorted, auctioned, donated, whatever. If there's anything you'd like to keep, this is your chance to make good use of your sentimental disposition. Do let me know and I'll see that it is spared."

Elijah parts his mouth like he's ready to protest. The house is still entirely furnished, many of their parents' belongings exactly where they've been since Esther moved permanently back there after Mikael's death. Klaus doubts anyone but the housekeepers have touched the master bedroom.

He sent emails to his wayward younger siblings to let them know in case there was anything they'd like to keep. Rebekah says she'll have a list sent through her staff, while Kol is, apparently, out of reach. Unbeknownst to the family, he took part in some reality show in Italy, and, as per the contract he signed, won't be able to speak to anyone until he either wins or gets voted out. There were so many layers of atrocity to that information Klaus chose not to engage.

Now Elijah will get the same chance to pick and choose what he'd like to keep. If he wants the entire set, he can have it. Klaus won’t be taking anything himself; if it was up to him, he’d just set fire to it all. It's enough he'll be spending time here at all.

He's entirely aware of how preposterous it must sound to Elijah, the thought of having their personal items scrutinized and given away like that, without a second thought, but he knows exactly where Klaus' feelings lie better than anyone else.

Perhaps realizing it's a lost battle, Elijah stands to his feet, dropping his objection. "Very well. I will let you know."

In spite of their obvious disagreements, before he exits the room, Klaus calls him back. "Yes?" Elijah says as he stops by the doorway.

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" he asks almost sheepishly. It has been a while since the two of them spent any time together. There is something to be said about the fact that his favorite sibling is also the only one with an actual life and responsibilities. Rebekah and Kol are always waltzing in and out of Klaus' office - unannounced and, oftentimes, unwelcome too - but Elijah rarely ever sets foot in New York these days. Maybe that's precisely why Klaus likes him. The rifts in their relationship wane away by how scarce he makes himself. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or some other silliness.

There's no reason why they shouldn't drop their current set of disagreements for at least a couple of hours. Not that he would ever say it out loud - he is a Mikaelson after all, if not in blood, then at least in name, parental abandonment and passive-aggressive upbringing - but he does so miss his older brother.

“Actually, I have plans tonight.”

“Something you can’t cancel for your own brother?” Elijah gives him an apologetic look, but does not answer. Klaus' mouth instantly tips into a smirk. “Do tell.”

"It’s not what you’re thinking. Purely business, Niklaus. I agreed to have dinner with Miss Forbes. There are some plans for the festival we need to discuss."

"Over dinner," he repeats suggestively.

“What else is there to do in Mystic Falls?”

“I suppose it doesn't hurt that she's a sight for sore eyes.”

Elijah grins. “I’m surprised you noticed that over the vehement scolding you got from her.”

Klaus shakes his head, abstaining from comment. "Send my regards to Miss Forbes."

“Thank you, but I think I will skip the unpleasantries. I will see you tomorrow, brother. Try not to eat any locals.”

"Can't promise anything."

"What the hell happened here?" It's all the words Caroline can form when she lays eyes on what had been the most picturesque and charming town square just the night before. Now, she feels as though she just stepped into a disaster movie set.

When Elena called her that morning to say she had some bad news, she thought budget cuts or volunteer application withdrawal, supplier issues, all things she’s used to dealing with. Bad, yes, but manageable. Our whole location has been swallowed into the center of the earth is definitely a new one. Elena's tone was not appropriate to the level of urgency here.

"Some water pipes running under the square burst last night," Elena explains. "Caused a lot of destruction."

"I can see that," Caroline says, still shocked. "What happened to the gazebo?"

"Currently in the middle of that giant hole over there."

Caroline's shoulders drop with a dejected sigh. She loved that gazebo, had a whole view for it. Now it's gone. Just like her job will be when she calls Aurora to tell her what happened.

"Miss Forbes," Elijah greets her as he walks up to them. If she was the mayor right now, she'd be bawling her eyes out. Elijah, on the other hand, looks no more shaken than he was during dinner the night before, when the waiter messed up his order. "I see you've already been filled in on our current calamity."

"How long until it's fixed?"

"The repair team is working on it, but the prospects are not good. The whole system in this area is old and under risk of new ruptures, so it'll have to be replaced. The town square will be off limits for at least two weeks."

"But we don't have two weeks," she protests, and then, in a small, weak voice, adds the question she dreads the most, "Does that mean the festival is cancelled?"

"Absolutely not!" Elena replies, rummaging through her bag for a folded piece of paper. "I tried to channel my inner Caroline and have already compiled a list of available spaces with all the pre-requisite infrastructure to accommodate the festival."

Caroline's relief is short-lived. As soon as she sees on Elena's options, her heart drops all over again. "The parking lot behind Bowling Palace? The field close to Chester's taco store? A pasture?"

"It's really beautiful out there, with a very rustic feeling," Elena says. "But we'd have to figure out what to do with the cows."

"This is a disaster." Caroline pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers, a headache for the ages already brewing in the back of her skull. "We can't have a Christmas festival at a parking lot. Or a freaking pasture. No offense to the cows, but that's just not right. It's a winter holiday festival, not a Halloween one. There has to be a certain atmosphere. If we do it in a place like that, we're practically burying it. Nobody's gonna head out that far from the city center in the dead of winter on Christmas Eve, and a parking lot will never have the level of ambiance we're looking for. People are just gonna take one look at it and head back home. There has to be a better place." She takes another look at the list. Each item is worse than the last. And then something pops into her mind. "I drove by a really big estate just a few blocks away on my way here. Big white house, beautiful front lawn?" Elena purses her lips like she's holding back on something, exchanging a mysterious look with Elijah. Caroline frowns. "What?"

"That would be Mikaelson Manor," Elena offers.

"Mikaelson? As in -"

"Indeed," Elijah confirms. "But it's about to be torn down."

"What? Why?"

"That is a very long story. And before you argue, Miss Forbes, though the place bears my family's name, it does not belong to me."

The fiery objection she was about to launch slips back down her throat. "Well... When is it going to be torn down?"

"After the first of the year."

"They're turning it into a commercial center," Elena adds with a bite of criticism.

"Ok, first, that is a crime," Caroline says. "And second, if it's happening only after Christmas, maybe we can convince them to let us use it for the festival? It's just for a few days."

Elijah looks away from her, hands stuffed in his overcoat's pockets. "I'm afraid that will be impossible, Miss Forbes."

"Why?"

"Let's just say the owners are hard to negotiate with."

"That's because they've never had to negotiate with me," Caroline says as renewed confidence spurts into her veins. If it's only a matter of talking someone into agreeing to something, then that's her area of expertise. Aurora might speak about her talents in a derogatory way, but she is good at getting people to do what she wants. "No offense, Mr. Mikaelson, but I'm kinda hard to say no to. And it doesn't hurt to try, right? What's the worst that can happen?"

"That is..." Elijah starts with a deep sigh. "A very good question, indeed. Though I'm not entirely sure I want to find out the answer."

"Well, leave it to me, then. Should we go knocking, see who's there?" Caroline gives him a sunny smile, swirling away as she starts towards the manor with renewed hopes for a positive outcome. It's not the same as holding the festival at the town square, but the brief look she took at that estate was enough to send her mind swirling with ideas. A different vibe from what she’d originally planned, maybe, but nothing she can't work with.

It'll be perfect.

Elijah peers at the beaming smile on Miss Forbes' face like someone who watches a train moving towards an unsuspecting person on the tracks.

"Elena..." he says in an admonishing tone, lagging behind to speak with his assistant while Caroline, high on renewed faith, stalks off to knock on the door. She's about to get all of that youthful excitement mercilessly snuffed out and she has no idea. "Are you really going to let your friend walk up to the front door without a single warning?"

"It can't hurt to try," Elena replies with a shrug.

"That is an entirely false assumption. You've met my brother. It can hurt a significant amount, in fact."

"And you've met Caroline," she counters. "If anybody can bend a thick-headed Mikaelson, that's her. She was not joking when she said she's hard to say no to."

“Niklaus nibbles on well-meaning and kind-hearted people for breakfast.”

"You, sir, are making a mistake."

Elijah arches an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

"It's rookie mistake number one. You look at Caroline, you see the pageant smiles, you see the blonde hair, you think you're dealing with a puppy and immediately downplay how threatening she can be. And that's when she gets you. Caroline is probably the most aggressive person I know, and I say that as a compliment. The second someone tells her no, she sets out to prove them wrong. And she usually does, with flying colors. Don't underestimate her."

"I'm not -"

Elena doesn't even let him finish, just turns away and joins her friend, who's peeking through the windows before walking up to the front door. Elijah lets out a defeated breath.

Well, he tried.

Half hoping it will be one of the house employees or even that antsy PA to answer the door, he takes a few steps closer. To his surprise, it's Niklaus himself.

He sees the moment that radiant smile all but melts off of Miss Forbes' face. "Shit," she curses.

Klaus' eyes narrow suspiciously, moving from her, to Elena and finally landing on Elijah. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

"Hello, Niklaus," he greets, taking a step forward between Caroline and Elena. "I hope you are having a very good morning." He places a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze as well as a pointed look in warning. "Shall we go inside? We have much to discuss."

"I can't believe my first real chance at a big event is blown because of some stupid old pipes," Caroline grumbles, disheartened as she and Elena walk back to her hotel.

She could've gotten there already about half an hour and ten incoherent grunts ago, but Elena has been gracious enough not to point out they're walking in circles or that it's starting to get uncomfortably cold as night falls, allowing her to vent instead. Caroline dreads returning to the hotel. As soon as she does, she'll have to make a very unpleasant phone call to inform Aurora of these most recent developments. She's certain her boss won't even care, and that's probably the part that bothers Caroline the most. She had a real chance to prove her worth and shock some recognition out of Aurora, maybe even put her name forward for a promotion she should’ve honestly gotten years ago. Instead, nothing will change. If anything, it’ll get worse. Aurora will surely find a way to pin this on her.

"I'm sorry, Care," Elena says sympathetically. "I wish there was more that we could do."

"You could've warned me about who owns the manor," she bites out, casting Elena a censoring look. "What the hell, Elena? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you'd have a better shot if you didn't know," Elena counters. "You were always so good at improvising."

"Not against a stubborn billionaire I yelled at. He barely even looked at me. Did you see the way he shut me down? This festival is a liability to my sale contract, there's nothing I can do," she croaks in a poor imitation of his voice that gets a chuckle out of Elena. "And then he just kicked us out. His own brother, too! What a douchebag. What's up with that accent, anyway? Elijah doesn't have one."

"Klaus went to boarding school in England from when he was a child and stayed there all through college," Elena explains. "Their parents were both Brits, and Elijah was actually born there, but they came here when he was little. Klaus was the only one who spent more time abroad than he did here."

"I bet it's fake," Caroline says. "Just like Aurora. I can smell a snobbish douchebag from miles off. They just wanna make themselves stand out. Ugh, I can't believe this!" She throws her head back as a brand-new wave of indignation washes over her, restarting the cycle. From anger, to denial, to eventual disheartenment. Rinse, repeat.

"The pasture is still free," Elena offers tentatively, and then instantly puts her hands up in surrender at the piercing glare she gets from Caroline.

She'd rather have this festival at an iHop than to take it to a pasture in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of cows roaming around.

And then it hits her. Caroline stops walking as though struck by lightning. "No," she states firmly, closing her hands into fists. Elena turns back to her with a questioning frown. “What am I doing, Elena? I’ve been walking around like an idiot when I should’ve been doing something.”

“Doing what?”

“I can't let my big break go to waste like this. This can't be everything. I have been at De Martel Elite Events for five years. It's not just my job that depends on this, it's my own sense of self.”

"Ok, slow down."

“I will not slow down," she stabs her finger in the air, determination flaring up anew as an idea begins to take shape. "This is a test, and if I go down without a fight, then maybe I shouldn't be promoted, after all. Maybe Lucien freaking Castle really is better than me - and I refuse to let that be true.”

"Uhm..." Elena blinks slowly. "Ok?"

“I'm not going to let some asshole with no respect for the hardworking, tax-paying citizens of this town destroy my shot.”

"Right," Elena drawls. "You have my vote. But what exactly do you plan to do? We can't set up camp on his front lawn."

"We won't have to," Caroline says with a little devious smile. "I don't suppose you could get the contact of the company purchasing the estate?"

The sound of an old Christmas melody tugs at something deep and frail within Klaus' chest.

The manor had been eerily quiet thus far, his own booming voice as he spoke on the phone or barked orders at Joshua the only sounds breaking the stillness. It made it easier to forget where he was and shove away the discomfort this house always stirs in him.

The Mikaelson Manor was the apple of Mikael and Esther's eyes. No Park Avenue penthouse or Italian Villa ever came close to how much they adored that colorless piece of land in the middle of Virginia. Klaus could never understand the appeal, and resented it all the more for it. All his siblings seemed to share a love for the place, as though they could open any closet or drawer in the house and find their fondest memories all carefully folded there. For him, it was something else entirely.

That house brought nothing but heartache to Klaus. He remembers running around its lawns and playing on the swing that used to be on a tree right outside the back porch. He thinks he must have been happy then. Or perhaps too naive to know any different. But everything changed when Mikael found out the truth about his parentage. Klaus was shipped off to England like an unwanted package, and each time he came back, no matter how brief his stay was, he was reminded of just how much he didn't belong.

And yet, listening to the slightly distorted sound of an old record player, he is transported to winters past, when he would come home for the holidays. Esther was always fond of the date, spent long hours plotting her decorations and even longer getting everything to match her visions. Every year, she set out to outdo herself, like a personal challenge. It turned the estate into a seasonal tourist attraction. Everyone would come out to see the Mikaelson Manor on Christmas. All day, every day, there would be strangers roaming the property outside, taking photographs. Inside, the air would be dominated by Esther's Christmas records and thick with the smell of freshly baked pepperkakers and julekakes, Scandinavian recipes that had been in her family for generations.

Klaus' memories of being the foolish boy who relished those things and longed to be a part of that family are frayed and dusty. Might as well have belonged to someone else. Still, the sound of old familiar tunes seems to light up that unattended corner of his mind, bringing forth recollections he hadn't thought about in years.

He follows the sound through the house, going all the way to the living room, half-expecting it to be one of the housekeepers giving in to a moment of nostalgia before they have to leave. Instead, he's surprised by Elijah, having tea by the fireplace, eyes closed, legs crossed, one foot moving in time to the music that scratches from Esther's old record player.

"Christmas carols, Elijah?" he comments mildly as he enters the room. "Is this a cry for help? Should I call Rebekah so she can stage one of her dramatic interventions?"

Elijah's smile is so soft it looks almost out of place on his normally stoic face. "I'm just doing as I was told. Diving into the deep wells of cheap sentimentalism within me."

"I didn't think you'd be so literal. What's next? A reindeer sweater?"

"If you ever find me in a Christmas-themed sweater, you have my full permission to have me admitted to a mental institution." Klaus laughs. Elijah's attachment to his custom-tailored suits and cashmere-only sweaters is pathological. It prompted Kol to fill the void of his goalless existence by making it his life's mission to find the ugliest, most tasteless pieces of clothing ever created by designer brands just to send it to Elijah every year on his birthday.

Elijah never wears any of it - or keeps them, for that matter - but Kol seems to find his little practical joke totally worth his money and investment. Sometimes, he'll even show up wearing the clothes himself to family gatherings, on the odd occasion they happen nowadays. His commitment to shocking Elijah's delicate fashion sensibilities is probably the biggest commitment of their little brother's life.

"It will be strange not having this house here anymore," Elijah says after a beat, eyes finally flying open.

Klaus sighs, turning away to pour himself a drink from the cart. The one thing Klaus inherited from Mikael - or perhaps more accurately, because of him - was his taste for bourbon. The man has been dead for years, but the housekeepers never fail to keep a few good bottles around. It always comes in handy whenever Klaus his home. No matter how short his stay is, this place is guaranteed to leave him rattled.

“We did have some good moments here, didn't we? Especially around the holidays. Mother always did love this time of the year.”

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't here most of the time." His reply comes off bittered than he'd intended.

"Is this why you're so keen on selling it?"

"I'm so keen on selling it because it's a money drain."

"I don't blame you for not harboring any warm feelings for this house," his brother says in a placating tone. "I do know we've had some lovely moments here, even you, but I understand. You've every right to resent it and everything it stands for. But you can still allow it to serve one last good purpose."

Klaus rolls his eyes, drinking from his glass. "Your intentions in sending Miss Forbes to butter me up were commendable, Elijah, if a little naive. You might have mistaken me for Kol if you thought I'd capitulate at the sight of a pretty face. Not that I need to justify not wanting this place to become the site of a holiday pilgrimage, but what I told the two of you was the truth. I can't risk having the property damaged in any capacity, and inviting the entire town over to the premises is the last thing the buyers want. It was hard enough to find any interested parties willing to pay the asked price for a piece of land in Nowhereville, Virginia. I cannot jeopardize it."

"I didn't send her."

"What?"

"Miss Forbes. I didn't send her. In fact, I tried to dissuade her. She insisted. Can't hurt to try, were her words." He grins. "If only she knew."

"That one seems like a piece of work," Klaus mumbles under his breath, shaking his head. "Where did you even find her?"

"She's an old college friend of Elena's, my assistant, and now works for a quite respected event management company in New York."

Klaus' lips tug into a wolfish grin. "Elena," he says slowly, rolling the syllables on his tongue with mock appreciation. "Couldn't help but notice she shares a remarkable resemblance to your ex. They wouldn't happen to be related, would they?"

"I won't even dignify that with an answer, Niklaus," Elijah says, busying himself with his tea once more.

Klaus chuckles. Elijah's on-and-off romance with a Bulgarian aspiring model named Katerina Petrova was as turbulent as it was brief. The woman had a temper to rival Klaus'. Rebekah nearly murdered her on more than one occasion. To this day, her name causes their sister's face to crumple up with nausea. For all his faults and failures, one thing Klaus has never caused his family is grief over a paramour. The fact he has never brought a single one of his girlfriends home to meet the family probably helped some. He went through a mouthy redheads phase in his youth he now sorely regrets. Kol would’ve had a field day with them.

"Mr. Mikaelson," Joshua calls with urgency as he storms into the room. "Uh - Klaus, Mr. Klaus Mikaelson," he amends when he notices Elijah there.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Joshua?"

"Have you checked your phone?"

"Not in the last ten minutes," Klaus replies, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"We just got an email from the company buying Mikaelson Manor. I think you wanna check that."

"Oh, for goodness' sake. What did you do?" he curses, shooting a glare at Elijah as he opens his inbox.

"Nothing. I’ve been here the whole time."

"It appears they've received a vociferous complaint about their plans to tear down the manor and would like us to show the townsfolk some goodwill until the sale goes through. They are afraid their public image might be tainted, damaging any future business prospects," Klaus reads with a snap.

Elijah laughs. Actually throws his head back, shoulders shaking, laughs.

"You think this is funny?"

"It's hilarious," his brother replies, attempting to rein himself in. "I like her more and more."

As though on cue, the doorbell rings, cutting what would be a vociferous rant on Klaus' part. Josh makes a move to leave and get the door, but Klaus puts a hand out to stop him. "Oh, no. Leave that to me."

"Niklaus," Elijah sobers up in a second, jumping from his seat to follow him.

Klaus simply ignores him, stalking towards the door with purposeful steps, ready to lash out viciously at the one no doubt responsible for that undesirable twist in his plans.

"Miss Forbes," Klaus bites out her name, taking in her slightly disheveled hair and the way her cheeks are flushed from the cold.

"Before you kick me out again," she blurts out, putting one gloved hand up to stop him. Klaus arches his eyebrows at her, stunned at the sheer audacity. No one's ever shushed him with a hand before. People usually know better than to even try. "Can you just come with me for a moment? Please?"

She doesn't wait to be denied, simply turns around and walks away. Klaus grunts, nostrils flaring as he lets out an annoyed breath. Still, he follows.

"Ok, so I want you to picture this whole space fully decorated," she starts when he joins her on the porch, gesticulating widely towards the front lawn. "This is where the Christmas tree will be, right in front of the house. We got a big tree, and we'll have as many decorations and ornaments as it can possibly hold. It'll look beautiful, but tasteful, and I have plans to do something very personalized."

"Miss Forbes -"

“Then here, to this side, is where we'll have the food stands, with enough space for seats and all,” she continues, ignoring him as she paces across the porch. “On the other side here, we will build the stage for Santa's workshop, where we will have an actor greeting the children and getting their Christmas letters and wishes. I don't know if you've heard, but we're working closely with a local charity to have gifts ready for underprivileged and orphaned kids.”

"Lovely," he deadpans. "However -"

“And then right here -” she rushes away, leaving Klaus to curse under his breath again. Still, he drags after her when she goes down the front steps. When she swirls around to face him again with her arms wide open, Klaus is momentarily taken aback. Her smile is so bright it seems to light up the whole drab and darkened space around her. Some of the mounting annoyance in his chest is knocked off in favor of a rush of something warmer he can't quite name. “Here, with the Mikaelson Manor in the background, all lit up and fully decorated for the holidays, is where Santa will hand out gifts on Christmas Eve and where the children will have the special reading of a Night Before Christmas. It also has the perfect framing for photos, I tested. I know it might be a little hard to picture everything, but I assure you it'll be incredible.”

Klaus sighs, feeling as some of that fierce indignation lifts off of him, melting not unlike fresh snow under sunshine. "You certainly do make it sound so," he grumbles.

"I am really good at what I do -"

"You mean badgering people into giving you what you want?"

She snaps her mouth shut, a guilty expression on her face that is entirely too endearing for anyone's good. "I know we started off on the wrong foot," she says. "But you shouldn't let your feelings towards me impact an entire town. I will just go home once this is over, but the people of Mystic Falls will remember it forever. This could be someone's magical Christmas memory from when they were children. I am really good at what I do, Mr. Mikaelson, but with the square off-limits, there's no other place in town that will come even close to the kind of atmosphere this estate can offer. I'm sure we can sign liability contracts and maybe even have insurance in case there are damages to the property, but in my experience, the chances of that happening are really small." She puts her palms together. "So, can we please hold the Christmas festival here?"

Klaus huffs out grumpily. “Whatever. Yes.”

"I don't understand how you can possibly live with yourself ruining Christmas for -" She stops in the middle of her clearly practiced complaint, blinking slowly at him. "Wait, did you say yes?"

"Regretfully, yes. But finish what you were about to say and I might rethink it."

She gapes in disbelief. "We can have the festival here?"

"I don't fancy repeating myself like a broken record, Miss Forbes."

She lets out a gaspy laugh, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I had a whole speech planned!"

"And I'm certain it would be incredibly persuasive, just as your vociferous complaint to the company buying the manor," he teases, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I prefer strongly worded," she counters with a shrug, totally unrepentant.

“Has anyone ever told you you're quite the inconvenience?”

"Several times. I take it as a compliment."

Klaus shakes his head, trying to school his expression into sternness. "I have one condition."

"Name it."

"My name is attached to my company, which means it is part of a brand. I will not have it associated with a project I haven’t personally overseen and that could potentially be connected to the Mikaelson Business Group."

"That sounds reasonable."

"So you can understand how I'd appreciate it if you kept my name entirely out of it. Anything that happens here is a combined effort by the mayor's office, with the new owners' compliance. Not me. Do we have an understanding?"

Her lips break into a big smile. It's even more striking from up close. "Deal," she says, putting a hand out to him.

Klaus gives her a firm shake. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a rather surly email to reply."

"Sorry about that."

"Somehow, I don't think you are." He grins. "Good night, Miss Forbes."

"Good night, Mr. Mikaelson. And thank you!"

When he opens the front door, he finds Elijah standing right there, waiting for him with a smug and amused expression that makes Klaus want to throw something at him. He tilts his head, ready to shoot out a snarky comment, but Klaus shuts him up with a dark look.

"Not a word," he hisses, walking past him and disappearing up the stairs.

As he pours himself a cup of coffee, Klaus recalls one of several conversations he had with Elijah when his brother announced his intention to step down as CEO of the Mikaelson Business Group. Klaus was the first person he came to with the news, before he'd even spoken to the board or their mother. He wanted to let him know he'd be appointing him as his successor. Klaus thought he was having a stroke.

It took a few meetings before he was convinced Elijah was of sound mind and not being blackmailed by anyone. He considered every possible scenario, even the most farfetched ones, like that Elijah had somehow gotten involved with the organized crime and had to flee the country. He used his contacts to make sure Elijah's finances were good, that nothing abnormal was happening, or he hadn't found himself a Yoko Ono type who was making him leave the evil corporate life for a more wholesome existence at a holistic farm or some nonsense like that. Every day he hears about a different Wall Street shark finding Jesus in a green smoothie and leaving everything behind to repent for their sins. Klaus would've honestly killed himself if his brother had turned into a bloody hippie.

Elijah was groomed from the day he was born to replace Mikael as the head of the family. While he was nothing like their vicious father, he was just as cunning as a businessman. His acumen was unparalleled. In many ways, he was even better than Mikael. Their father hadn't been dead for two whole years before Elijah decided he’d had enough of it. His choice for Klaus was not only controversial, it was the start of a riot among directors. Everyone knew Mikael loathed his middle son, though the reasons were mysterious to most of them. He was a cruel man, but he was also proud. Admitting his wife had cheated on him was a stain he could not tolerate.

Mikael was no doubt dying a second death down in hell upon the news that the bastard he’d been forced to father was going to take up his seat.

Klaus perfected spiting his father to an art. Rather than being like Rebekah, who is fickle and self-indulgent, or like Kol, who is probably clinically insane, Klaus decided to become the best corporate lawyer anyone had ever seen. He was a wild beast. People shivered when he walked into a room. He lacked Elijah's flair for diplomacy, but more than compensated for it with aggressive persuasion. Mikael hated himself for how essential to the company Klaus became and how brilliantly competent he was. It brought him unimaginable satisfaction, seeing Mikael's face as he was forced to sit through rounds of applause to his greatest shame whenever he got an impossible deal done, negotiating every term to suit their needs.

But as fun as the idea of pissing all over Mikael's beloved legacy was, appointing him as CEO felt a bit too much. Klaus didn't expect to ever have to fulfill that role. He wasn't even sure he was fit for the job. It demanded a lot more tact and poise than he ever possessed. It was a position that was tailored for Elijah, just like his suits. When he took over, after Mikael's health made it impossible for him to keep going, Elijah made Klaus a VP, his closest advisor and a right-hand man, which already felt like a stretch to many. But CEO? That took everyone by surprise, including him.

"What will it take for you to believe I'm serious, Niklaus? Should I have mugs and t-shirts made to announce I want to step down?" Elijah asked with that annoyingly casual tone of his, like it was just a normal conversation and not a defining moment in their lives neither of them would ever be able to come back from.

"I don't understand," Klaus replied, pacing around the lavish office he has now occupied for five years. "Why would you do that? Why would anyone? It makes no sense!"

"Coffee is bad for your health," Elijah said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Too much caffeine is terrible for you. Do you have any idea how much coffee I have just to get through the day? And the more you drink, the more your tolerance builds up, which means you have to drink even more for it to have any real effect. It's like a drug. I've been living on caffeine for the last twenty years. I don't want this for myself. I want a life that will allow me to be completely satisfied with no more than two cups of coffee a day, purely for pleasure."

Klaus was in shock. "You're giving up on the job you've been trained to occupy from the day you were born because... It makes you drink too much coffee?"

"Precisely," Elijah confirmed with a poker smile. "Among other things, of course."

Five years later and a few extra billions in the company's net worth thanks to his administration, Klaus finds himself thinking about that conversation as he pours his fourth coffee serving before 9 in the morning. He's been in and out of Zoom calls with three different time zones and any inkling of good mood he might've possessed has already been obliterated.

Klaus regrets nothing. He turned out to be exceedingly good at this job and he's perfectly happy with it, but sometimes...

Sometimes he thinks he understands Elijah better than he ever thought he would.

He looks out the window and grunts into his mug when he spots an army of little elves swarming his front lawn. He'd forgotten this was supposed to start today. Not only will he have to resign himself to staying in Mystic Falls for much longer than any reasonable person ever should, he'll also have to live with this Santapalooza right outside his door.

What in hell's name is he doing with his life?

He notices the way the people flock over to the side of the house, and he doesn't even really have to look to know what - or who - he'll find there. At the helm of the ship, with an iPad in hand, is Miss Forbes, handing out tasks to workers and volunteers.

Klaus barely feels the way his lips curl into an amused little smile. That woman could have a glorious career at Wall Street with how comfortable she is a leading role - and how easily she gets people to obey her every order. Persuasion is not an easy skill to develop. You can make yourself respected, but commanding authority is an entirely different thing. Miss Forbes is a natural. Klaus would know; he was the unmovable object her unstoppable force managed to budge.

He told himself he would be steering clear of whatever that mess was, warned Elijah to pretend he wasn't even there. Suddenly, however, without thinking, Klaus puts down his mug and steps out of the house, walking around the porch to where Miss Forbes overlooks her volunteers.

"You've quite an army of Santa's little helpers with you today," he remarks with ease, hating himself inwardly for how absolutely lame that line sounds.

His self-recrimination quickly vanishes when Caroline turns to him with a sunshine smile. "It takes a village," she says. And then, squinting at him, she adds, "Especially when we're two days behind schedule because of lawyers delaying the paperwork."

"The contractual scrutiny required to safeguard the operation in a situation like this is quite exhausting," he replies drily, repeating the technical jargon he heard from his legal team when he called them to speed up the process after Miss Forbes knocked on his door the day before.

"That, or you were trying to get me to back off. Clearly, you don't know me."

"I think I've got a good enough inkling by now."

She chuckles. "Well, I am not complaining. We're able to use the estate, I am happy."

"Why do I sense a but coming?"

"However... It does mean we had to campaign for more volunteers and it'll take some extra hours from the crew to get everything set up. The budget went up, your brother is not happy."

He opens a big smile. “Well, my day just got substantially better.”

Caroline laughs. “As an only child, I really don’t understand the vibes there.”

“Everything is a competition when you’re one of four,” he explains. “Anyway, I'm sure you'll make it work.”

She scoffs. "I wish I had your confidence. I've never spearheaded an operation like this before. Not on my own, anyway."

"I thought you said you were good at your job?"

"I am!" She defends herself. "I've just... Never been ahead of things. More of a behind the scenes kind of person. This queen bee thing is sorta new."

"I couldn't tell. You look right in your element, bossing people around, handing out assignments lists, holding on to that iPad for dear life," he flashes her a cheeky grin.

"Don't mock me, ok? I am very thorough and my organizational system is renowned."

"I believe you 100%."

She cocks her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "Should I be flattered you were spying on me while I was working?"

Klaus looks away from her, feeling all kinds of embarrassed for being caught and not sure how to react. "Well... I will leave you to do your job, Miss Forbes. Let me know if there's anything else you require from me."

"I could use some help," she blurts out when he turns away. Klaus stops, looks back at her with a questioning frown. She shrugs. "If you're offering."

He cocks her an eyebrow, nodding towards the small crowd occupying the front yard. "Don't you have enough help?"

"There's a lot to be done here, and not nearly enough time to wrap everything up, thanks to -"

"Yes, yes," he cuts her off with an eye roll. "I'm evil, we've been through it."

"I kinda need to pick up some supplies and do some last minute shopping for decorations for the tree and the manor. I was waiting for Elena, but I think she got caught up at the town hall, so it might take a bit," she pauses, pursing her lips. "And I don't have a car."

"I'm certain my brother could arrange for that to be taken care of."

"Your brother is the mayor," she argues. "I can't just go knocking on his door with a Christmas decoration issue and hope he'll drop all his work to go driving me around."

"I'd wager that would probably be the most thrilling thing that's happened to him all month," Klaus offers.

She gives him a look. "I think he's got enough on his plate."

"You do know who I am, right?"

She huffs out a little laugh, like she thinks he's being arrogant. Which, in all honesty, he is. It doesn't mean he's also not busy.

"You were kinda rude the other day," she points out.

"I was rude? Was it not you who knocked on my window to harangue me about how I allegedly treat my employees?"

"That was not haranguing, I was merely offering some sound advice. Plus, I was very polite about it. Mostly."

"Like you were polite in your choleric email threatening my business partners?"

"Excuse you! I did not threaten anyone. I just pointed out how bad for business it is for a company to establish themselves in a new town in such an aggressive way. And frankly, the mere fact I, an event planner, had to point that out to them is outrageous. They should've been able to realize it on their own."

"Well, your outrage, Miss Forbes, could've jeopardized a deal I have been cooking up for months."

"Would it really be the end of the world not to have this incredible property torn down?"

Yes, Klaus thinks, but lets the word fall back down his throat with a sigh. It's not worth it. He's done being made to feel like some villain for making an objective business decision. He doesn't have to justify himself to her, or anyone else, for that matter.

"Where exactly do you need to go, Miss Forbes?" he asks instead.

"You probably know the area better than me, but I did see some great Christmas shops downtown, around the square?"

Klaus checks his smartwatch. There are already notifications demanding his attention, but nothing he can't postpone for another hour or so. His next Zoom call isn't until after lunch. He should probably go back inside, make sure he has everything sorted for the meeting, and yet...

The expectant look on Miss Forbes' face does something to him. He feels a knot inside his chest drawing tight. He casts a look towards the house, imagining how his day will be spent entirely behind the closed doors of the study room, between calls and emails to people he either loathes or merely tolerates, like every other day, or... He could be adventurous and take this strangely compelling event planner to go Christmas shopping for no plausible reason whatsoever.

"Fine," he concedes. "Have it your way, Miss Forbes."

She gives him a smile like she can barely believe her poor excuse for an argument worked. He can hardly believe it himself.

"It's Caroline," she says. Klaus looks at her in question. "If we're going to be friendly, then we should drop the formalities. My name is Caroline."

"Caroline," he repeats with a half-grin. "It suits you."

"Thank you. Uhm...?" she prods.

"Klaus. You can call me Klaus."

"Not Niklaus?"

"Oh, God, no. Elijah is the only one who uses my full name. It feels like I'm getting scolded."

"I like Klaus," she says. "It's Christmas-appropriate."

"Original. Never heard that one before," he deadpans as he turns away to go fetch his coat and tell Joshua he'll be stepping out for a moment.

There must be something about the air in this city that makes people lose their minds. It happened to Elijah, and if he doesn't watch himself, he'll succumb to the same madness as well.

"Ok! I think all we need now is more light and we're done," Caroline announces, checking the items on her list as they exit the store. She holds the door for Klaus, whose hands and arms are all occupied with bags, boxes and packages.

The sight makes her itch to snap a photo. Nobody would ever believe her if she told them that billionaire, playboy and Time Magazine Top 100 Most Influential People in the World Klaus Mikaelson served as her personal porter. It's surreal.

She has no idea what came upon her to even ask him to help. He was clearly only trying to be polite. And yet Caroline was like a woman possessed, barely aware as the words went shooting out of her mouth with very little coordination from her frontal cortex. It could've easily been the greatest embarrassment of her life. Instead, here he is, carrying her bags and offering his high standard opinions on her choices on Christmas decorations for a tree he didn't even want to begin with.

Why he would ever say yes to that is just beyond her, but Caroline is trying very hard not to think about it. She has too much work to do to be considering the foolish and completely inappropriate scenarios her mind keeps conjuring.

He's just being polite. Or feeling bad for being a dick and turning down their request to stage the festival at the estate. That's all it is. Nothing more.

"You just bought that entire store," he retorts with some bewilderment as they make their way back to where he parked the car. "How many more stores do you plan on emptying?"

"They were low on Christmas lights stocks," she counters.

"Are you aiming to blind the entire town?"

"Ha-ha. In case you haven't noticed, your house is huge."

"Somehow it slipped my attention."

Caroline shoots him a look. "It's gonna take a lot more fairy lights than that to get that place properly decorated. I don't do anything half-assed. And I want it to be truly magical."

Klaus grins. "We might have some boxes in the attic. I could send Joshua to fetch it."

"So you're saying you weren't always the Grinch? What's your villain origin story? A reindeer stole your candy bar?"

"My mother's the one who embraced the holiday spirit," Klaus supplies with a dimpled grin. "I don't believe anybody's touched any of that stuff since she passed away."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Caroline says quietly.

"Don't be. It was a long time ago."

"Is that why the house has been empty?"

The question catches him by surprise. There's a brief pause, during which Klaus seems to ponder over whether or not to reply, or how much to disclose about it. "Elijah used to live there with our mother. He moved back here when he left the company, but when he got entangled with small town politics, his advisors told him it wasn't a good look to live at the most lavish estate in town. It had a bad appeal with the younger generations, made him seem unattainable and disconnected from the ordinary person's everyday struggles." Klaus speaks with a measure of scorn, suggesting he finds it all a bit ridiculous. Elijah's advisors were probably totally right, Caroline thinks, but she understands why Klaus would be skeptical. It's not like moving to a smaller, less flashy house makes Elijah any poorer or more connected to anybody's real life issues. But such is the way of politics. Not that different from event planning, actually. All about appearances. "When our mother passed away, the house was incorporated into the company's assets," he continues. "So it doesn't belong to the family anymore."

"But the company is your family's."

"We're the major stockholders, but we still have many other investors to please, not to mention a board of directors that's a pain in my ass. It certainly doesn't feel like it's mine."

"Are they pressuring you to sell?"

"It's common sense."

"Maybe you should invite them over, throw a big Christmas bash at the manor. Who knows, a miracle might happen," she offers light-heartedly. "They could get enraptured by the holiday spirit."

Klaus scoffs. "I very much doubt it."

"How about you?"

Klaus lifts the boxes in his hands once. "This is the most holiday spirit I've had in twenty years."

She laughs. “I can’t tell if you’re flattering or accusing me.”

"I suppose it is a compliment, if you squint."

"I will take it," she gives him a proud smile. "So how long are you staying?"

"The original idea was to be here for no more than a couple of days, just long enough to overlook the inspection, figure out what to do with all the personal belongings and whatnot. But it appears my departure has been postponed."

Caroline shrugs. "I'd say sorry for that, but... I'd be lying."

“Don't I know that?” He fixes her with a harsh look, but the curve of his lips gives him away. "Can you do me a favor and get the keys in my pocket, love?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course." With a little awkward smile, Caroline approaches him, stuffing her hand in the inside of his overcoat to get the car keys. Klaus' gaze burns on her as she does it, his mouth teetering on the edge of a cheeky little grin that is way too charming for anyone's good. She's suddenly over-aware of just how close they are. The air around her seems to simmer to the point she's claustrophobic in her heavy winter wools. Caroline faces away from him, ignoring the flutter at the pit of her stomach. She can't tell if she's blushing, but she'll just assume that she is. "Here it is."

She rushes to escape his personal space, unlocking the car and opening the trunk for him to put all the bags and boxes. "So," she continues, trying to deflect from the awkwardness or the way her heart is in overdrive. "You'll be staying for Christmas, then. Elijah must be thrilled."

"Elijah is likely counting the days for me to get out of his hair. And no. I leave the day before."

"Do you have plans?" she asks, instantly regretting the edge of eagerness in her own voice.

"I work on Christmas."

"Can't the CEO give himself a day off?"

"My father would roll over in his grave if he ever heard anyone say that."

"The great Mikael Mikaelson."

"Nothing great about him, I assure you," he says cryptically. "You did your research on the family?"

"I might have read a few articles."

Klaus smirks. "Did you, now? Stalking the whole clan or anyone in particular?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, pressing the button to close the trunk once he’s done settling everything inside. "I had to know who I was dealing with, ok? A little Google stalking could come in handy. And FYI, I didn't just google your name. I also researched Elijah. I was... Curious."

"About what, exactly? Why he never smiles for photos? He does have teeth, if that's you're wondering. Terrible breath, though."

Caroline chuckles. "It's just the whole story there, you know. The mayor of Mystic Falls being a billionaire who stepped down from the family's empire to pursue a career in small town politics."

"Don't be fooled, love. Elijah is more ambitious than he lets on. I'm sure he has his eyes set on DC at some point in the future. He's an idealist, my brother, in spite of the family he was born into. He sees something broken, he wants to fix it. And he's always been formidable at diplomacy, so I suppose politics was the natural path to follow. He just needed an image detox to undo any strong ties to our business so he wouldn't be perceived as having ulterior financial interests."

"The overachiever in me thinks it's crazy that someone would make it to the top of the world and willingly give it all up. But the romantic in me thinks it's very noble."

"Yes, my ever gallant and noble brother. Isn't he a darling?" Klaus says flatly. "I'm sure my profiles weren't as flattering as Elijah's."

"They weren't so bad. Business shark. Youngest CEO in the top 20 companies in the country. Basically raised in England. Explains the accent."

Klaus flashes her a dimpled smile. "I hear it's charming."

"Is that how you got to date two Victoria's Secret angels?"

"Not at the same time." Caroline laughs. "But you know, now you have me at a terrible disadvantage."

"Oh? How so?

"I'm afraid there weren't nearly as many details about you online. Your Instagram account is practically a portfolio. No trips to Cabo, weekend getaways, late night partying with the girls?"

Caroline gapes, trying to disguise the way her heart skips a beat. "Was Klaus Mikaelson stalking me?"

"I had to know who I was dealing with, didn't I?"

"Smart," she says, pointing a finger at him. "But I'm not nearly as interesting as you."

"I beg to differ, love. You're quite the conundrum."

Caroline shifts nervously on her feet, biting on her lower lip. "Well... There are some embarrassing videos floating around, if you know where to look."

"Say no more." He fishes out his phone from his coat. "I'm texting Joshua to have him do a thorough sweep around the internet. Maybe he can have our cyber security team looking into it."

"Stop it!" Caroline slaps his arm playfully. "A girl is allowed to keep some mystery, ok? Besides, I can tell you whatever you want to know. It's not like I have anything to hide. I will bore you to death, but it's the least I can do, since you offered to accompany me today."

"Offer is a bit of a stretch."

"I was being gracious."

"Yes, well," he says, walking around the car towards the driver's seat. "Cue me in on as much information as you see fit as we pick up the rest of your lights. And don't hold back on any gory details. Those are by far the tastiest."

"You do realize you sound like a psycho, right?"

Klaus' mouth tugs into a wicked smirk. "I'm a Mikaelson, sweetheart. It runs in the family."

It's nearly two in the morning by the time Klaus decides he's done with work for the day. He shuts down his computer with a tired sigh, rolling his head around and feeling every knot on his back muscles tightening painfully. There's something about being in Mystic Falls that makes him feel twice as exhausted as he would after a long day at his office in New York. It's probably the house, he thinks, sucking all his energy out of him.

He gets up to pour himself a shot of bourbon just to unwind before he heads to bed, already listing everything he'll have to take care of come morning, and stops when he hears the sound of music. At first, he thinks it's Elijah again, sneaking into the manor to listen to those old records like a ghoul. But then he realizes it's not coming from inside the house.

Curious, Klaus pads over to the window, pulling the curtains open. The working bees that have set up camp in his front yard for days now have all left for the night, but someone is still out there, hanging decorations on the tree. And singing. Quite well, in fact.

Why doesn’t it surprise him that on top of being incredibly persuasive and a looker, Caroline Forbes can also sing?

He stays there for a while, hidden behind his curtains, just listening to her voice as it filters into his home. Her sweet melody is not familiar to him, but it has an odd soothing effect. Better than alcohol, he'd say.

In spite of all the weariness from a long day of stressful decisions, cooped up inside that house, instead of going to bed as he’d planned, Klaus shrugs on a jacket and goes outside. He'd say it's out of character for him, but he's been acting like this for days now. At some point, he just stopped ruminating on his poor decisions in favor of embracing a different approach. What happens in Mystic Falls, stays in Mystic Falls, and once this is all over he’ll never have to think about it again. Will just pretend he was possessed the entire time he spent here.

"It appears I'm not the only workaholic around here," he says easily, smiling when she startles. "Sorry for scaring you, love.”

"Klaus," she says, casting a look at the house behind him. “I didn't realize there was anyone still up. Did I wake you?”

"As if I ever sleep," he shrugs. “It’s a bit late to be hanging Christmas ornaments, no?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

“How are you not freezing?”

"I'm used to it. Christmas time is always a busy one. I feel like freezing my ass off finishing up details of outdoors events at this time of the year has become a part of my own holiday tradition. You’d be surprised by how popular throwing parties at Christmas tree farms has become."

"Should I have a word with my brother about running his people ragged? Someone once told me something about how mistreating employees leads to all kinds of disasters."

Caroline gives him a sideways look. "It's not your brother." She takes a step back to inspect her work before deciding where to hang a hand-painted ornament. She collected tons of those during their little errands run. "The volunteers have been doing amazing work, but we have to let them go home for the night. The festival starts in less than 48 hours and there's still so much to do." She gives him a little half-smile. "And I'm also a bit of a control freak."

Klaus chuckles. "You don't say."

"I can't help it, it's just stronger than me. But I can go if I'm disturbing your peace."

"Not at all," he replies, approaching the tree. She's done about half of it so far, but she chose a rather big tree. It could take hours to hang all of the ornaments and get the fairy lights and garlands in place. "Are you planning on finishing all this by yourself tonight?"

"Not really. I'm an optimist, but I'm not that bold. It's just... I'm nervous. And when I'm nervous, I need to find something to channel my energy into, and going through a to-do list kinda helps me relax."

"Checking out to-do lists as a stress management mechanism," he mocks. "That seems healthy."

Caroline scoffs derisively, turning to him with one hand on her hip. "What do you do for stress?"

"Bourbon," he replies without missing a beat. "Or terrorizing some young and green employees."

"That's very in character."

Klaus pauses, eyes flickering away from her, down. "I also paint," he admits quietly.

Caroline frowns, visibly taken aback. "Really?"

"You seem surprised."

"No, it's just... You don't seem like the artistic type."

"Art is democratic like that. It's open to anyone. Even corporate sharks can bask in it. My studio is my sanctuary. Though I must admit it has been rather neglected for a while now. I haven't had much time for more than a few sketches here and there."

"Well, you should definitely add that to your to-do list. Make time for painting."

"I haven't had much inspiration lately. Who would've guessed that contracts and board meetings are hardly muses.”

"Look around! This is all pretty inspiring, isn't it?" She opens both her arms, gesticulating towards the front yard, but Klaus' eyes remain firmly on her and the a thousand-watts smile that brightens up her whole face. It flashes through him like the sun, stirring up a riot in his core. It's like staring into the heart of a flame; he simply cannot look away.

"Yes," he agrees lowly. "Yes, it is."

For one beat, two beats, three beats too many, they stay in silence, an indecipherable energy passing between them. There’s a pull tugging at his chest, startling a part of his heart that had been long dead back into life, drawing him into the gravitational force that is Caroline Forbes.

But then she clears her throat, lowering her face and cutting eye contact, rendering the moment over.

Relief and disappointment seize him in equal measure.

"I should, uh... Get back to work," she says awkwardly, fussing through the ornaments box.

"Do you need help?" he asks on a whim.

Caroline stops. "Are you really offering or are you gonna act like you've been coerced?"

His dimples deepen with humor. "As long as this stays between us."

"Don't want anybody knowing Klaus Mikaelson has a heart stashed somewhere, got it," she nods. "Your secret is safe with me, sir."

"Since we have an understanding..." he rubs his hands together, suddenly regretting not putting on a warmer coat and grabbing a pair of gloves, but not at all interested in going back inside. "Tell me where you need me."

"So, everything's ok for tomorrow night, right?" Caroline asks Elena, the two of them chatting over cappuccinos Caroline grabbed on her way to the town hall.

Things have been so hectic they have barely had any time to catch up. A cup of coffee here and there is the best they can manage.

"Yup," Elena nods. "All's in order."

"Is the news out that the lighting of the Christmas tree will happen at the Mikaelson Manor and not at the town square?"

"We had it put in the newspaper all through last week, as well as local radio and TV stations news announcements, plus social media and some posters."

Caroline finally relaxes into her seat. "Good. So if anyone shows up at the wrong place, it's their own fault."

The two exchange a little laugh, but just as they're ready to finally jump into some conversation topic that has nothing to do with work, they're interrupted by the mayor.

"Good morning, ladies," Elijah greets them with an easy smile, shrugging out of his overcoat and hanging it by the door.

"Hi, Elijah," Elena says. Caroline grins to herself at Elena’s eagerness, not missing the way her friend seems to perk up at the arrival of her boss. Honestly, she doesn't judge. If she worked for a man who looks as good in a suit as Elijah does, she would probably smile like an idiot, too. Just having something that pretty to stare at could brighten anyone's day. Instead, she’s stuck with a boss who, while beautiful, doesn’t really do anything for her and is a total bitch. So unfair.

Elijah checks his phone. "I'm just waiting for my -"

“Enough with the chit-chat, Elijah. I have -” Klaus snaps his mouth shut as he storms into the room and finds Caroline and Elena there.

"My wonderfully sunny brother," Elijah finishes. "We have a meeting to discuss the manor situation."

"Good morning, Klaus," Caroline says before she can stop herself.

"Caroline," he replies, mouth ticking slightly upward.

"Shall we?" Elijah ushers his brother into his office, shutting the door behind them.

There's a brief moment of quietness, the two women sipping calmly from their coffees, until Caroline decides to address the elephant in the room. "So..." she starts. "Elijah is hot for a mayor."

Elena practically chokes on her drink. "Excuse me?"

"I always wondered why you'd end up in Mystic Falls, but I can totally see it now."

"Caroline," Elena chides. "I'm a professional, ok?"

"Of course you are. But you also have a pair of eyes on you. And so do I. And I see the way he looks at you." Caroline hides an innocent smile behind her cup. "And those little smiles you give him," she adds.

"Stop, ok?" Elena faces away from Caroline to hide the way her cheeks are suddenly pinker. But then she chews on her lower lip, turning back with a secretive air about her. "Do you really think he looks at me in a way?"

Caroline laughs. "I knew it! You are so transparent, Elena Gilbert!"

Elena snorts. "You're one to talk."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You and Klaus, sneaking around together? Everyone's noticed."

"Sneaking around!" Caroline parrots with exaggerated indignation, then glances at the closed door when she realizes she might have been a bit too loud. "Sneaking around," she repeats in a whisper. "No one was sneaking around. He was merely helping with the festival."

"Right, because Klaus is such a ray of sunshine who can't wait to offer a helping hand."

"Maybe he felt bad for how he was a dick to us at the beginning."

"Caroline, I have worked for Elijah for two years now and in those two years, Klaus has been nothing but an unrelenting, unrepentant pain in the ass. The man doesn't even drive his own car, but all of a sudden, you ask, and he becomes your personal uber, going on a tour around town to pick up Christmas decorations and then helping you hang them on the tree - yeah, don't give me that look, you two were seen. He's basically the Grinch. You have the guy wrapped around your little finger."

Caroline sits up straight, putting her cup down on Elena's desk. "First of all, I don't have him wrapped around my finger, ok? I only established a friendly conviviality because keeping him satisfied is the best way to make sure everything will run smoothly during the festival. He still owns the property, he could have us shipped out of there in a second if he changes his mind. And second, nothing happened, ok? Klaus and I are complete opposites. Not even opposites, we're like different species."

"I agree with that," Elena says. "But he's still a very hot species, even if a completely annoying one."

Caroline huffs out a laugh, shaking her head to dispel that annoying flutter in her stomach again. It seems to come back whenever Klaus is mentioned. She feels like a schoolgirl again. "Just drop it, ok? There is nothing going on."

"Just like there's nothing going between me and Elijah."

"Well, good. Glad we have that settled."

"Me, too."

The two of them stare at each other for two seconds before they both burst into laughter.

Loud chattering, children screeching, music playing, strange banging noises he doesn't even want to understand.

It's useless to try and get any work done with the noise outside his windows. Instead, Klaus resigns himself to a glass of bourbon and peeking from behind the curtains like a creep. This town is truly starting to get to him.

He should probably find a book to read, or maybe go out for dinner somewhere. The town is gonna be empty, after all, since it seems everyone has decided to flock over to his front lawn to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree. But curiosity gets the best of him. Elijah is out there, looking prim and proud, smiling like he means it. Klaus had never really had a chance to see his brother in his politician suit, not in public, anyway. It's a joke, but he sells it rather convincingly. If only those people knew how aloof their handsome mayor really is...

Elijah's political persona is not the only thing capturing Klaus' attention, though he's failed to spot the second one so far. The lawn has been momentarily cast in shadow right before they reveal their Christmas decorations on the house and the tree, so it's hard to see anyone besides his brother, standing on the small stage set up front.

He recalls how Caroline mentioned that this was her first endeavor leading a solo project, and that before this she was always more of a behind the scenes kind of character. It's hard to imagine her being anywhere but at the helm of the ship. Suddenly, he fears she might have slipped behind the curtains once more. It almost makes him want to go outside and usher her to the stage himself, make sure she gets the recognition she deserves.

She did a marvelous job in an inhibited time frame. Klaus holds no appreciation for the holiday spirit and whatnot, but even he can see how this is truly astounding. While most event planners would usually choose to go with lavish, mall-like decorations that feel cold and artificial, Caroline decided to go with something much more personal. She harvested local ornaments, handmade by small shop owners and artisans. Many of them reference Mystic Falls. The very manner she chose to display them on the tree was like she was trying to tell a story. And she did the same to the entire place, decorating it in a way that feels homely and welcoming, reminding Klaus of a time too far away to be anything more than a hazy memory, back when he still felt like a part of his family. When this house meant something other than abandonment to him.

He almost hates her for it.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Mystic Falls," Elijah begins, his voice booming over the chattering until everyone quiets down to pay attention. "Thank you very much for coming out tonight. I want to thank all of our volunteers for their tremendous efforts." There's a raucous round of applause. "And also my assistant, Elena Gilbert, who coordinated the entire operation." He points out Miss Gilbert, who takes a step forward and makes a small bow as the people around her clap effusively.

"I would like to extend our town's most heartfelt gratefulness to Miss Caroline Forbes." Klaus pauses with his glass halfway to his lips, eyes searching for her as another ripple of cheer passes through the crowd. "This would not have been possible without you, Miss Forbes. Thank you."

Klaus finally sees her as she takes a step forward, coming out of a darkened corner and lifting her hand in appreciation. Even with all the lights out, she seems resplendent, beaming with pride and what appears to be pure joy, if Klaus has ever seen it.

She is absolutely beautiful.

"Alright. Without further ado..."

Elijah starts the countdown from ten, everyone joining him. At one, he presses a button, and there's an explosion of blinding light in his front yard. Klaus has to turn away. Caroline wasn't joking around when it came to the lights. Even the window he'd been hiding behind has been lit up. The crowd roars in excitement. It must be quite the sight.

He turns away from the window, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the new clarity in the room, where there was only a faint honey glow from the fireplace. His eyes land on something he had missed before. His eyebrows pinch lightly as he moves towards the tiny Christmas tree on the side table. He left explicit orders that the interior was not to be decorated.

Klaus grunts, thinking this was one of the housekeepers trying to sidestep his wishes, or maybe Elijah thinking he was being funny, when he notices a little card underneath it.

A tiny Merry Christmas!, smiley face. Signed, Caroline.

The grumpiness bleeds out of Klaus as if by magic, a glimmer of a grin on his lips.

He knows he shouldn't go outside, not with the amount of people there, including journalists and photographers covering the event, but he suddenly cannot help it. He puts on his coat and steps out onto the patio, making sure to keep a good enough distance from the kerfuffle. He sees Elijah speaking into a reporter's recorder as Elena organizes the line of people waiting to talk to him. Not far, Caroline is shaking hands with grateful townies. One of them Klaus recognizes as an old lady who sold them ornaments a few days before.

In-between speaking to strangers, he catches her eyes. Her smile manages to grow even brighter, if that's possible. Klaus feels a ripple of warmth spread across his chest as she excuses herself, cutting through the throngs towards him.

"A-ha! So you couldn't resist it, after all!" she says, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, taking a look at the finished front yard from above the porch for the first time. She sighs. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Quite impressive," he agrees. "You did a splendid job."

She pokes him with her elbow. "Give yourself a pat on the back, buddy. I couldn't have done it without you driving me around to pick up supplies. I probably wouldn't even have finished the tree last night if you hadn't been here." She turns to face him, her smile dimming into something softer, more intimate. "Thank you. For your collaboration and for putting up with me. You had no reason to take time out of your busy schedule just to indulge me. I know I can be a lot sometimes, and I've been a nerve wreck these past few days, so… I really appreciate it."

"I think you're amazing," he says without thinking. And then, realizing what he did, he backtracks. "I mean... You did amazing."

"We make a good team when we're not bickering, don't we?"

"Well, I don't know. I think we make a good team when we're bickering as well."

She laughs, removing her glove before putting her hand out to him. Klaus smiles, giving her a firm handshake that probably lasts for longer than necessary, relishing in the feel of her warm fingers closing gently around his own, trying not to think about how it sends sparks shooting up his arm.

"Writing down your wish list to Santa?"

Klaus lets out an annoyed sigh, not even awarding his brother a look. He has a deadline on this contract and way too many items to check and ratify.

"Considering a career as a comedian next, Elijah? I'll have you know you're not very good," he deadpans, grunting as he scrapes an entire paragraph. What kind of idiots are they paying to write these?

"I suppose if you can be someone's personal driver, nothing is impossible."

"Dear Santa, please take my big brother with you to the North Pole, preferably tied to the underside of your sleigh, and do not return him until at least next Christmas."

Elijah huffs out a laugh. "Normally I would say there's not a chance on earth your wish would be heard, what with your lifetime commitment to always making number one on Santa's naughtiest list, but I guess this might help plead your case."

He puts a newspaper down on the desk, spins it around and slides it over to Klaus. He puts down his marker, ready to spit fire at Elijah for wasting his time with some nonsense, when he sees his own face looking back at him on the cover of the Daily Mystic Falls. And not just his. Caroline's as well.

Even though Klaus tried to stay as far away from the spotlight as possible, his venturing into the front yard during the tree lighting ceremony was not an auspicious decision at all. A photographer captured the exact moment when the two of them were shaking hands on the porch. And then some miserable journalist sharing Elijah's appalling sense of humor added the headline: Santa Klaus saves Christmas.

Klaus pushes the newspaper away with a scornful huff. Brilliant. Just what he needed. In spite of all his success, the board of directors seems incapable of forgetting Klaus was never meant to hold more than a senior level position at the company, holding on to Mikael's resentful and vile opinions of his lesser son. They never miss a chance to criticize his work. Already there are endless complaints about how the Mikaelson Foundation finances too many projects in Mystic Falls. If this makes it back to New York, he'll never hear the end of it.

"Don't blame her," Elijah says.

“I blame myself. I should've been more careful.”

"I know this will sound totally absurd to you, Niklaus, but sometimes, there really is nothing wrong with letting people know you're not pure corporate evil."

"I didn't do any of that for myself or my reputation. I did it to please the buyers."

"Are you entirely certain it's the buyers you were aiming to please?"

Klaus picks his marker back up. "If you can't tell, Elijah, I'm too busy keeping you on Forbes's richest list to talk."

"That's not really the Forbes I was thinking of." Klaus makes a sound at the back of his throat, suddenly in desperate need of a shot of bourbon.

"This is why I don't come here often," he tells Elijah pointedly.

"Stop acting like I'm giving you grief, Niklaus. You huffing and puffing does absolutely nothing here. You forget I know you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Let me spell it out to you. Miss Forbes is quite remarkable, Niklaus. And what she's done here in order to get this festival up and running is the least impressive thing I've seen from her. Whatever concerns about your reputation or the board of directors you might have, there are more important things."

"Is that rhetorical or do you expect me to offer commentary?"

His brother lets out a long wounded sigh, as though he is being difficult. In all truth, he probably is. Deflection is his weapon of choice. But that is not to say Elijah doesn't deserve it.

"Dear Santa..." he begins, inspecting the newspaper. "For this Christmas, I wish you would get my little brother's unbelievably thick head out of his ass. Before it's too late." He puts the newspaper back down. "I'll leave this here for you. It's not every day you get someone smiling at you like that and meaning it. Perhaps you should have it framed."

TBC