Title: The Meeting in the Met, The Mikaelsons Take New York (1/?)
Characters: Klaus, Blair
Summary: Klaus & Blair meet in the Met. Part of an drabbles series following The Originals' move to the UES
Timeline: Non-canon timeline
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that the CW owns
"You've been following me," she says as she stares at the folio in front of them. "Why?"
Klaus remains silent, pretending to focus on Krishna in the folio, not bothering to acknowledge her presence.
"Did Chuck send you?" she asks, venom and disgust in her voice. "You must be new, the usuals are much more discreet."
He turns towards her. "I was not hired by Chuck," he replies with obvious distaste.
"Then why have you been following me?" she repeats.
The corner of his mouth turns up at the steely determination in her voice, but he doesn't reply.
"You haven't been following me? Then what about Starbucks? Bergdorf's?" Blair quips. "What about Mood? I doubt you were there to make yourself a shirt."
He looks down at the girl before him, her brown eyes are focused on him and her red lips are set in a straight line. For a moment he considers compelling her and making her forget about him, but determination in her eyes reminds him of another girl from another town. Dangerous, but she could be fun, and she's already proven herself to be loyal. "I find you interesting, sweetheart."
"Interesting?" Blair raises an eyebrow at him. "Please tell me that doesn't usually work." Klaus just smirks at her, revealing his dimples and Blair finds her temper flaring, "Who are you?"
"My name is Klaus," he replies smoothly. "And let me assure you that any prior interaction between us was merely a coincidence..." he trails off as he waits for her to introduce herself.
She's unsure whether to tell him her name. He has been following her, no matter what he says. She's been followed enough in her life to know not to ignore the feeling in her gut. But he is rather attractive, with his dimples, accent, and perfectly-coordinated devil-may-care attitude...and then she has the perfect idea.
"Blair," she acquiesces. "My mother, Eleanor Waldorf-Rose, is hosting a dinner party tomorrow night at the Plaza to benefit the New York Food Bank. Since you haven't been stalking me I don't expect you to know that I don't have a date."
"I'll pick you up at seven."
"Eight. No one shows up before then," Blair retorts. She gives him a small half-smile, turns and moves on to the next gallery room of the Met.
Klaus turns back to the folio, allowing her to believe she's won.