A/N: Second fic for Klaroline AU Week: Average Joes! This is a two-parter, but the second bit will be probably half the size of this monster. And can we just appreciate how perfect it is that The Police have a song that perfectly goes with the plot of this story? Because I think it's great. Listen to the song if you get the chance.

Thank you to everyone who spends their time reading this! I have been writing it for months, and when AU week was announced, I finally got the extra push to finish it. Expect the second part to also be released by the end of the month. (I'm busy, updating isn't really easy at the moment!)

I hope you guys like it, and if you want to review, that would be great, but don't feel pressured to.

I OWN NOTHING!

Alrighty! Enjoy.

"Wet bus stop, she's waiting

His car is warm and dry"

Part One

"But I'm trying so hard, Mr. Tanner. It's just with all of my AP classes, plus cheerleading, plus my job at the animal shelter, all added together with my many extracurriculars, I had almost no time to get this project done." Caroline Forbes, student extraordinaire, finished with her rant, leaned back on her heels and panted.

"Miss Forbes, your project wasn't bad," her government teacher, the aforementioned Mr. Tanner, assured her, moving out from behind his desk. "Mikaelson," he said sternly as Caroline followed him around the desks in the room, "start marking those tests."

"Yes, Sir."

Caroline was distracted momentarily when the T.A. rudely bumped into her on his way to Mr. Tanner's desk, but quickly started up her argument again, "I got a B!" she exclaimed, watching Mr. Tanner swipe down the desks with his handy dandy sanitary wipes. He clearly had some form of OCD, as this was a ritual at the end of every class.

"Plus," Mr. Tanner corrected. "B Plus."

"Ugh!" she squealed, ignoring the T.A.'s disrespectful snicker. "So not the point, Mr. Tanner. I need to get an A in this class, and my last two projects have gotten Bs!"

"Plusses," Tanner said again, much to the girl's annoyance.

"Seriously, Mr. Tanner. I'm trying to be valedictorian. I need to be able to stay in the honours program, and quarterlies are coming out soon! If I get one B on my report card, I'm out of the running and my spot goes to freaking Damon Salvatore. I can't let that happen!"

Mr. Tanner continued polishing the desks very carefully, face moulded in concentration. Caroline was running out of time. She had cheerleading practice in ten minutes and it took a full six to get from the senior wing to the field where they trained. And she was the captain, so practice couldn't start without her.

Finally, Tanner sighed. "What do you want me to do about this, Caroline?"

Instantly cheerful again—she wasn't head cheerleader for no reason—Caroline clapped her hands together excitedly. It was a good day. Tyler Lockwood couldn't keep his gorgeous brown eyes off of her all of AP Math, Damon got dumped by his girlfriend of nearly four years, and Mr. Tanner was bending to her very persuasive will. She could totally be a lawyer.

"Extra credit," she said simply. Dangerously. Fingers tapping at the desk he'd just cleaned. "Make those Bs disappear."

Tanner seemed to think for a moment. He threw the wipes away after going over the one Caroline had touched once more and rubbed a hand over his wrinkled, tired forehead.

"Okay," he acquiesced, causing Caroline's insides to jump with exhilaration. "Help Mr. Mikaelson prepare for his first solo lecture."

Caroline's eyes bugged. That feeling of happiness quickly exited her body. Dread took its place. "What?" she asked. And there must've been an echo, because she heard her question again before her mouth had even closed. Only it was deeper and somehow sounded even more shocked.

"Yes," Mr. Tanner said, looking rather pleased with himself. Caroline hated that smug look of his. "You can meet up after classes every Friday for the next month, sit in the Quad, and work on a lecture together."

"But, Sir"—the T.A. stuttered.

—"Ah, ah." Tanner held up his hand to silence the recent University of Virginia graduate, "Miss Forbes here is the best student I have ever had in my twenty five years of teaching AP Government. I'm not saying she write the lecture for you, nor saying she speak in front of the class with you, but she is a talented organiser and I think she could really help you put your thoughts together."

Caroline couldn't help the way Tanner's praises made her heart sing with pride, but then she remembered why he was saying those things in the first place and her heart abruptly stopped singing, as if the old government teacher had snuffed its song.

"Isn't it illegal or something to put T.A.s and students of the opposite sex together outside of school? Alone?" she asked, half-hoping she was right.

"Caroline," Tanner chided, waring a loose smile, "it's definitely not illegal, plus you'll be on school grounds. This will be good for both of you. Mr. Mikaelson has trouble articulating his thoughts, you have trouble reining yours in."

Both she and the T.A. started saying something at the same time, their sentences jumbling together into one large, whiney noise, but Tanner put his hand up again. That hand must have had magical powers, because the two of them grew silent immediately.

"It's decided. You want an A," he said, looking at Caroline. He turned to the T.A. who had apparently abandoned the recently completed exams on Tanner's desk and was now standing behind her. "You need help with your people skills. No more arguments, my word is final."

In all of her years as a student, Caroline Forbes had gotten her way. She was very good with her words and could make teachers do nearly anything she wanted. It helped, of course, that she practically ran the school. Whenever she didn't like the group she had been paired with, she would simply open her mouth and the teacher would snap their fingers and there would be a change. If she wasn't happy with the book they were reading for English, she could always convince the teacher to move on to something a little more challenging.

And if she got a B, which had happened only four times in her whole high school academic career, she always, always, could get the teacher to give her some extra credit that would turn that horrid B into a shiny, acceptable A.

Mr. Tanner surely hated her.

"Fine," Caroline yielded. She turned to the T.A. who was still busy glaring at Tanner. He took his eyes off of the ancient history teacher and moved his focus to her. "We'll start on Friday. Meet me outside in the Quad at 4:30 p.m. and be sure to bring all of your notes. Don't be late." She nearly poked his chest to make sure her point had been made, but realised touching a T.A. probably was illegal, even if it was meant to be intimidating and not sexual.

The T.A. stood to his full height, which still made him only a few inches taller than her (and she wasn't even wearing heels), and frowned. Clearly he was not used to being bossed around by women. Or maybe it was his dislike of cheerleaders. She hadn't missed his quiet scoff while she had rattled off all of her commitments earlier.

His curly hair flopped into his eyes, forcing him to break their intense eye contact so he could push the rusty things back. When it was haphazardly atop his head he met her eyes once again. "Okay then. Friday. 4:30."

"Good."

Caroline didn't waste another moment. She turned on her heel and got out of the classroom as fast as she could without taking off in a sprint. Hopefully the other cheerleaders would understand her tardiness. Lord knew she would be beating herself up enough without their help.

—

Practice was over. It had started raining midway through, meaning they got extra muddy. Coach Zhu eventually blew her whistle and forced them to go inside thirty minutes before the official end of practice. As always, Caroline was one of the last girls in the locker room (she couldn't help her love of long, scalding hot showers), along with Bonnie Bennett who had to spend a lot of time straightening her hair before she felt she looked good enough to go outside. And back into the rain.

As Caroline worked her fingers through her stringy blond hair, she listened to Bonnie go on and on about how lucky she was.

"I mean, you get to work with Mr. Mikaelson. Alone. For goodness knows how long," the mocha-skinned cheerleader informed her, as if she didn't already know exactly what her punishment for getting two Bs in Tanner's class was. "I'm telling you, Care, every girl in this school would kill you for that opportunity."

Applying conditioner to her already perfectly soft hair, Caroline sighed in annoyance. All the girls at Mystic Falls High (the tiny high school in their tiny town in tiny Virginia) swooned over Tanner's T.A. He was handsome, she supposed. Blue-eyed. Chiselled. Scruffy, but in a clean way. Blond—blech. She only went for the darker-haired kind of man.

But he was English, and that was what really had the girls going crazy. Because to them, England was an exotic land. God, they worshiped him like he had come down from outer space. Maybe he had, for all she knew. He did have somewhat alien-like features. Like that weird, ape forehead. When he scowled he looked like a male gorilla about to attack. She supposed the other girls found that sexy, but she just found it weird.

Caroline, since the beginning of her senior year six months ago, had not gotten along with the T.A. He wasn't mean or anything, but he sure as hell didn't like her. And he wasn't afraid to show it. So, she went ahead and didn't like him back.

He was smart, she had to admit. Just as he probably had to admit to himself that she too was smart. When she got tests back graded by him, there was always an extra big check next to her A Plus. Tanner never did that.

"I don't get why he couldn't have just given me a worksheet to fill out. Or sent me to one of the thousands of Civil War battle grounds in Virginia. What does working with the T.A. give me?" she asked, her annoyance growing. She could complain to the principle about the "assignment," but had a feeling he wouldn't see it as a problem.

Bonnie laughed. "It gives you an opportunity to spend a lot of time with an incredibly attractive guy."

"Gross, Bon. He's not incredibly attractive."

"Blasphemy!" Bonnie called, and Caroline found herself giggling as she washed the conditioner out of her hair. "He really is good looking. I don't know why you can't see it."

Stepping out of the shower, Caroline wrapped a towel around her body and went to her locker. "He's not my type," she argued. Opening her locker, she grabbed her clothes. "Plus, he's old."

"He's twenty-four! How is that old?" Bonnie asked, disbelief surrounding her words. "Aren't we high school seniors supposed to be falling head over heels in love with guys that age? Isn't that when dopey males finally start to mature?"

Caroline shook her head, snapping her bra in place and pulling her The Who shirt over her head. "Maybe, but that doesn't mean I have to fall head over heels for this particular twenty-four-year-old. Besides," she said, dragging her shorts up her legs, "I've got my eye on someone a little younger."

Making her way to the sinks where Bonnie was still straightening her hair with her makeup bag in hand, Caroline went to the other mirror and began her beauty routine.

"That sounds kind of rape-y, Care," Bonnie informed, raising her perfect eyebrow in Caroline's direction.

Caroline, busy lining her eyelids, stared straight ahead at her reflection. "Shut up. I'm talking about Tyler. He's the same age as me."

Bonnie's straightener fell to the ground. "Shit," she breathed, bending to pick it back up.

"You okay?" Caroline checked.

"Totally. I just came to this really wonderful conclusion."

Caroline abandoned her reflection and stared at Bonnie. "What conclusion?"

Shrugging, Bonnie went back to her hair. "Well, you're eighteen."

"I am . . ." Caroline said slowly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Bonnie tapped her foot impatiently. "You're also graduating in two-and-a-half months."

Caroline turned to the side and put on her Don't-Bullshit-Me mask. Bonnie caught her eye and let out a dramatic sigh.

"You could totally have an affair with Mr. Mikaelson for the rest of the term! How hot would that be?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline pushed all of the dirty thoughts and pictures that appeared in her head in response to Bonnie's disgusting suggestion out of her mind. What the hell was that girl talking about?

Have an affair with a T.A.? Not only would that get him fired (she didn't hate him that much), but she would most definitely lose her spot as valedictorian. And probably her scholarship to UVA.

Not to mention, she felt absolutely no sexual attraction to the T.A. whatsoever. And she was pretty sure that went both ways, considering she was his student. Kind of.

"Why would you even propose a thing like that, Bonnie? Jeremy isn't keeping you satisfied, so you have to start creating weird fantasies? Involving other people, of all things?"

Bonnie frowned her adorable frown. "Of course Jere's keeping me satisfied. I'm just thinking, you've got the perfect opportunity to have a sordid affair with an authority figure. He would totally give you A Plusses on all of your assignments if he was sleeping with you. Also, it would be super duper hot."

"You said that already," Caroline commented disapprovingly. "I hate him, Bon. I'm not gonna sleep with him just to get good grades, which I get without any sexual favours anyway. And why the hell would he want to sleep with me? I know it sounds all cool in the books to sleep with your teacher, but in reality it's a really strange, illegal thing to do."

Bonnie unplugged her straightener and tucked her bangs behind her ear. Nobody was quite used to the dramatic bob she'd given herself after coming back from Christmas break, least of all Caroline. She coiled the wire around the base. "Look," she said, sounding oddly sincere, "just think about it. He's only six years older you. He's really good looking, no matter what you say. You're eighteen, graduating in less than three months. And I assure you, it will be the sexiest thing you ever do."

Bonnie finished packing her things and left Caroline to finish her makeup in solitude. Unfortunately, the blond could not find the inspiration to complete her look. Bonnie's words were swimming around in her brain like annoying, big, ugly fish.

The cheerleader shook her head, trying to force the thoughts away. Sleeping with her teacher was the stupidest thing she could think of. Right up there with doing drugs and getting pregnant before she was in a committed relationship, the latter of which could occur should she decide to follow Bonnie's advice.

And Bonnie seemed to miss one of her main arguments: She disliked Tanner's T.A. A lot.

—

"Argh!" Caroline howled, slamming the hood of her car shut. "Why won't you work?"

After finally getting 'round to finishing her makeup, Caroline had come outside into the rain only to find that her car had stopped working. It wasn't new by any means. Caroline's mother was only the town's sheriff, and her father died three years ago with no money to his name. When she had turned sixteen and gotten her license, she wasn't expecting her mom to get her a car. But her mother was always doing the unexpected.

It was a 1996 Honda Civic, white. It had holes in the seats and the A.C. didn't work, but it was her baby.

Caroline smacked the bonnet with a closed fist, tears welling in her eyes. Despite the humidity that had been making its home in Mystic Falls the past couple of weeks, toady's rainstorm seemed to have taken it all away. She was freezing. Soaked to the bones. And she was crying.

Oh, and she had no ride home. Her mother was working, Bonnie was with Jeremy, and she didn't want to call Matt after the fight they had last week about Tyler Lockwood.

Caroline leaned against her door and bowed her head in defeat. Looked like she was walking home.

"Car trouble?"

Whipping her head up so fast she saw stars, Caroline squinted in the rain to see who had spoken. Though she didn't exactly need to squint very much—or at all—considering there was only one English person in the whole of Mystic Falls.

Tanner's T.A. held an umbrella in one hand and his brown leather briefcase in the other. His tie was hanging loose around his neck, and he'd rolled up the sleeves of his blue Oxford shirt.

"No, I just really love the rain," Caroline said sarcastically, crossing her arms in annoyance. Why did he have to be the one to find her? Why couldn't it have been Tyler?

The T.A. smirked, which only managed to piss her off even more. Of course he found joy in her discomfort.

He nodded his head in the direction of the teacher's parking lot. "Need a ride?"

That sounded illegal. "Are you allowed to ask me that?" Caroline asked dryly.

Elizabeth Forbes, Caroline's mother and Mystic Fall's handy dandy sheriff, had always said Caroline was stubborn. Apparently it was a trait handed down from her father—not that her mother was exactly amenable. This factoid caused Caroline's insides to churn, because as much as she wished she was nothing like her alcoholic, dead father, she loved being stubborn. Refusing to give in and be who people wanted her to be was like a drug.

Yes, she was cold. Cold to the point that her teeth had started to chatter. And yes, it was getting late and she had to go home and finish a substantial amount of AP homework. But she would sooner contract pneumonia before getting into a car with Tanner's T.A.

The T.A. looked around the deserted parking lot. Rain hit his umbrella in quick pellets, rolling off of the plastic top to create a wall of water all around him. He looked so dry behind his curtain of rain.

"I'm not sure, actually," he said in response to her question. "But you really look uncomfortable, and I think it would be rude of me not to offer."

Gag.

Were all English people this considerate, even when they clearly disliked someone?

"I think I'm gonna walk," Caroline said, pushing herself off of her car. She reached down and picked up her sopping wet backpack.

Tanner's T.A. took a few steps in her direction. "I'd feel better if I just took you home."

Caroline flung the bag over her shoulder and shot him her most menacing glare. "Do you even know how to drive over here?" she asked stomping away from him. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed he had started following her, his long legs catching up to her quicker than she liked. "Why are you chasing me?"

"I'm not chasing you," T.A. sighed, a slight exasperation in his words. "I'm trying to convince you to let me take you home. So you don't die out here in the rain."

Caroline stopped walking and turned around. "A little water never hurt anybody."

The T.A. didn't respond for a second. Then he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, opening them a moment later. Caroline, against her will, noticed they weren't entirely blue. There were flecks of a few other colours in there too. Greens and a few greys mixed together with the oceanic blue.

"Please let me take you home. We're gonna have to start getting along soon, as Will—sorry, as Mr. Tanner has forced you to help me with my lecture."

The T.A. made a fair point, annoyingly enough. He leaned down as she contemplated his proposal, covering her head with half of his umbrella.

Damn, it felt good to be out of the rain.

"Ugh," she whined, stomping her foot. "Fine. Lead the way."

Caroline allowed T.A. to guide her to his car (a much newer version of the Civic, perhaps even the newest version), ignoring the burning irritation roiling around in her belly. She rarely gave in, but she supposed her hair would thank her for this one.

Like the apparent English gentleman that he was, T.A. held the umbrella over her head as he opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, uttering a disgruntled thank you, and watched him run to the other side of the car. He held the umbrella open as he sat down next to her, shaking it out briefly before closing it and shoving it in the back seat.

T.A. started the car. A blast of cold air hit Caroline square in the face.

"God, what the hell?" Caroline reached out and shut the vent nearest her and turned her neck to glare at the T.A.

"Sorry," he said hissed his teeth, turning some fancy dials until the air turned off. "It was rather hot this morning."

She supposed he thought of her as a brat. Others did. But really, she was just a perfectionist. People often took that to mean she was a snobby bitch, which hampered her attempts to make friends, and further still made it difficult to keep the few friends she managed to snag. Tanner's T.A. obviously wasn't her biggest fan. None of the teachers were, really. Not even Mr. Tanner, who had just a couple of hours ago praised her for being his best student. Ever.

Some days it hurt. Back when Jr. High began, and people started seeing Caroline for the anal retentive that she was, lots of her old friends ditched her. That definitely left a sort of cavern in her soul. After their lame excuses wore her down (we just don't have time for friends anymore, Caroline. we have none of the same classes. you're too smart for us. you're an asshole, why would I still want to be friends with you?) Caroline decided that making friends wasn't a top priority anymore. School was. Cheerleading was. Being the best at everything she tried was.

Since the end of seventh grade, she didn't really care what other people thought. Most of the time. Occasionally she would see her name scribbled on a bathroom stall. Sometimes a rumour would be floating around the school for a few days before another more interesting one got started. Those days were the worst, because she was still just a little girl. Words still affected her.

Crying wasn't her concern. She could deal with crying. It was that emptiness following her after those moments that terrified her the most. That feeling of not just unhappiness, but of hopelessness.

"Are you warm now?" the T.A. checked, examining her from head to toe.

Caroline listened to the gentle whoosh of the heating and nodded her head.

"Excellent. Now, don't be shocked, but I know where you live," he informed her. The T.A. put the car in reverse, his arm flinging over the back of Caroline's seat. He clearly did know how to drive in America.

"Why do you know where I live?" Caroline asked, smoothing her soaking shorts. She refused to look at him.

T.A. didn't answer her very reasonable question until they were out of the school's parking lot. He took his arm away from her seat. "Your mother invited me for tea when I first moved here," he explained.

Caroline rolled her eyes and sat back against the leather seat. Her mother did like to invite young, single guys to their house when they first moved to Mystic Falls. It was almost a tradition. A weird, cringeworthy tradition.

Now that the air conditioning had been turned off, Caroline could hear a soft melody radiating through the car.

Despite her best efforts not to, music always came first and she found herself asking, "Who is this?"

The T.A. looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he turned the car. "The Doors."

Caroline shuffled in her seat, getting comfortable (or, as comfortable as she could get in her state) in order to better experience the music. She absently tapped her foot to the steady beat. "I like them."

"You've never heard of them?"

Shooting T.A. a glare, Caroline straightened herself. "No. Why?"

"You've got a Who shirt on. I thought you might have heard of The Doors as well." He shrugged, lips curling into a half-smile that seemed to show up a lot when she was around him. "Or did you just like the design?"

"I listen to The Who," Caroline insisted, staring down at the blue t-shirt that clung to her stomach. "A lot."

"Hmm." T.A. stroked his stubble. They were nearing her home, but she had a feeling this was the beginning of some sort of argument about music. She readied herself for his next question. "Favourite song?"

Caroline was slightly disappointed. "Favourite song? You're doubting my love of The Who, and you ask me for my favourite song?"

"What should I ask you, then?"

"Well, you're trying to verify if I listen to The Who. I could list any of their most famous songs, or even one of their most obscure songs, and you'd have to take it. Ask me something more interesting," Caroline ordered, an odd giddiness running through her.

"Okay," T.A. conceded, taking no time to come up with his next question. "Keith Moon, rest his soul, was known for his love of alcohol and horse tranquillisers. What was the date that he famously passed out during a performance?"

Oh, that was a good one. Luckily, Caroline really did love The Who. She'd seen that clip (that very fuzzy clip) many times.

"November 20th, 1973. It was the start of the American leg of their Quadrophenia tour. Moon was nervous, so, of course, he ingested a mixture of tranquillisers and brandy," Caroline said proudly, sticking her chin in the air.

T.A. lifted his hands off the wheel for a moment to give her a faint, teasing round of applause. "You know your Who trivia," he commended as he pulled up to her home, and for some reason the compliment turned Caroline's skin pink.

The rain had petered off, she noticed in her efforts to not look at the T.A. Now only a slow drizzle fell from the sky.

Caroline bent down and grabbed her backpack. She gripped the door handle. "Thanks for the ride," she said hesitantly. "I'll definitely have to look up The Doors."

"Anytime, Caroline," T.A. said. Then—"No, I don't mean 'anytime.' I'm sure I'm not supposed to be driving students home. This was definitely a one off."

Caroline nodded, frowning. "Definitely. I'll get Matt to look at my car tomorrow." She opened the door and started getting out. "See you on Friday."

"See you on Friday," T.A. resounded, flashing another one of those half-smiles that she was sure meant he was secretly laughing at her.

Caroline shut the door. She stood on the curb until T.A. drove off, running inside once his car was out of sight. Stripping off her wet clothes (why the hell had he allowed her inside his clean car?), Caroline laid on her bed, naked, and grabbed her laptop, putting "The Doors" in the search bar.

As she listened to "People Are Strange" she admitted to herself that maybe Tanner's T.A. wasn't so bad. But just because he had good taste in music did not mean that she was suddenly going to like him.

Tanner's T.A. was smart. Caroline knew this. Tanner wouldn't let just anybody be his T.A. Still, his knowledge of government surprised her a little. Maybe because he had yet to lecture by himself. Or maybe it was because she refused to see any good in him, aside from his musical preferences.

She found that in a school setting they quickly got back to their old bickering ways. Two hours into the session and it was as if Wednesday's rain fiasco had never happened.

"You've got too much on Ghandi," criticised Caroline, flipping through his notes again. They were sitting in the Quad at a wooden picnic table, books and notepads and pens and pencils strewn on the tabletop.

T.A. scoffed and grabbed his really, really big notebook away from her. A few pieces of paper fell to the ground, but neither bothered to pick them up. "You can't have too much on Ghandi."

Caroline sighed, picking at her nails. It was a freakishly hot day and they'd already been in each other's company for too long. She was about ready to cut his tongue out so he would be forced to stop talking. "You can when you're teaching an American Government class."

"He's vital to the understanding of civil disobedience!"

"I. Know," Caroline stressed, shifting closer to the T.A. and taking back his notebook. "But you go into too much detail about the Indian Independence Movement. You'll confuse people."

T.A. made a strange noise from the back of his throat. Something that sounded like a cross between a groan and a cough.

"I thought you were all supposed to be brilliant. This is an AP class after all."

"No, that's only me. Everyone else is mediocre."

T.A. frowned and jotted down a few notes. "You're very modest. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Caroline let out a weak gasp, hand covering her mouth. "You really think I'm modest? Oh, that's all I ever wanted to be!" she said, swaying from side to side.

"Ha. Ha," T.A. bit, still writing.

"Are you taking out Ghandi?" Caroline asked after a few minutes of hearing nothing but his pen scratching the notebook. She looked over his shoulder and saw him scribbling away.

T.A. shrugged, knocking her out of the way. He made a sour face, which made Caroline smile a little. "Not all of him."

Caroline laughed, to which T.A. responded by dropping his pen and looking straight at her, eyebrows raised as if he had never heard such a sound in his life.

"What?" she asked harshly, correcting her posture. She didn't like the whole intense eye contact thing they had going on.

T.A. blinked a few times and turned back to his book. "Nothing."

Moving away, Caroline studied T.A.'s profile. He had horrid posture, but being hunched over a notebook seemed to suit him. And he wrote very fast, which wouldn't be that amazing on its own, but Caroline could actually comprehend his writing. Sometimes she couldn't even comprehend what she wrote.

"Have you been listening to The Doors?" T.A. asked out of the blue, making Caroline jump out of her study of him.

"Hm?" Caroline shook her head vigorously, pretending a bug had flown into her face. She swooshed her hand around for added effect.

God, I'm pathetic. I was totally checking him out. Damn it, Bonnie!

Slowly, a light red flush crept up Caroline's skin. Starting from her toes and going all the way to her hairline. Mystic Fall's heat index was thankfully very high that day, so she could always blame the sticky spring air on her rosy appearance.

She hated the T.A. Very much. Why was she suddenly checking him out like some brainless moron?

"The Doors," T.A. said again, slower this time. "Have you been listening to them?"

"Oh, right." Caroline shook her head again. "I have, yeah. They're really good."

Caroline watched as the T.A. closed his books and gathered all of his writing utensils, placing them all in his briefcase. Guess that meant the session was over. Which definitely did not disappoint her. Not even a tiny bit.

Perhaps it really was just his musical taste that had her intrigued. The two of them had only ever been around each other in a school setting. Both were extremely set in their opinions about the different forms of government and would often butt heads during class time. They'd had an all-out shouting match the first day of school. Caroline made snap judgements about people, and Mr. T.A. very quickly became her number one enemy on the Mystic Falls High staff.

But maybe he wasn't all that bad.

"Good. I'm glad to have broadened your musical horizon." T.A. stood up, casting a shadow across her. "Well, I think that's all we'll need to do. Thanks for the help," he said carelessly, starting to walk away.

Nope. He was still an ass.

Caroline shot to her feet and ran in front of him, making him stop in his tracks. "What do you mean that's all?"

T.A. gave her a laugh that sounded very much like it pitied her. "I don't really need your help, Miss Forbes. I'm sure Tanner only meant for us to do one session as a punishment to us both. I can finish my lecture on my own."

"Well, listen here, Mr. T.A.," Caroline emphasised, scowling. She rose up on to her tippy-toes. "This is supposed to be my extra credit, for my A. Believe me, I would've been happier if he'd sent me to D.C. to be the freaking president for a day, but that's not what happened. I'm stuck with you for the next three Fridays. Don't test me, T.A. I'm not all that fun to play around with."

Caroline sucked in a much needed breath and fell back on to the soles of her feet. Tanner's T.A. looked fairly stricken, which brought a satisfied smirk to her face. She definitely should have signed up for the debate team freshman year. They could have used her argument skills.

"I have a name," T.A. said after a long, stretched out silence. He was breathing heavily, plainly annoyed with her.

"I do too . . ." Caroline said, confused, her voice trailing. This was not the response she expected.

"Mr. Mikaelson. You'll do well to remember it, Miss Forbes. I may not be your teacher, but I am your superior. I have the power to punish you. Call me T.A. one more time and I'll tell Tanner to drop this extra credit assignment and give you a B," T.A.—no, Mr. Mikaelson—threatened, causing Caroline's jaw to drop in disbelief. "Don't test me, Miss Forbes," he added, using her own words against her.

Caroline backed away a few feet. Her lungs hurt, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. T.A.'s—wait, freaking Mr. Mikealson's—words definitely hit her like a punch to the gut, so she wasn't entirely surprised that she could no longer breathe.

Tears stung her eyes. Hot, angry tears. Nobody had ever talked to her like that. Could he really convince Mr. Tanner to give up on her and hand her a B? If he did, her dreams were essentially dead. Damon would be valedictorian and she'd have to live with that for the rest of her life.

She was being dramatic. She knew that much. But she couldn't help it. Since the beginning of her academic career, all the way back in kindergarten, Caroline knew she wanted to be valedictorian. All of her classes and all of her extracurriculars were chosen with that goal in mind. T—Mr. Mikaelson couldn't take that from her.

Caroline took another step away from Mr. Mikaelson, watching as a softness take over his features.

"I—Caroline . . ." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. That got a little out of hand," he admitted. Caroline stood still, waiting for him to continue. "Mr. Tanner's been excellent to me this year, but I think he doesn't see me as an equal just yet. I think he sees me as his secretary, to be perfectly honest. When he said that you would help me outline my lecture, I couldn't help but feel a little miffed."

"Miffed?" Caroline asked, interrupting his apology.

"Right, you're American," he reminded himself, giving her a small, sheepish sort of smile that melted away the hardness in his face. He looked his age for the first time since she'd met him. "Annoyed. I felt annoyed that he assigned a student to help me. I shouldn't have taken my annoyance out on you, though. That was very unfair."

"No, no, you're right." Caroline scuffed the ground with her sneaker, surprised by her own admission of wrongdoing and not able to look Mikaelson in the eye for fear of extra embarrassment. "I'm used to getting what I want. Plus, I really badly want that A."

Her eyes abandoned the pretty grass and met Mr. Mikaelson's. He opened his mouth as if to say something else—maybe to grovel a little more—but closed it when someone called her name.

"Caroline!"

The girl in question turned her body in the direction of the noise. Tyler Lockwood strolled toward them, waving his hand at her.

Caroline refused to look disappointed that Tyler was there. There was no call for the surge of anger toward the most attractive boy in their class. Besides, without him she would have no ride home. Matt, who was very good at forgiving her and had accepted her apology when she'd phoned him for help, was still working on her car.

"Hi, Tyler. I'll be there in a second," she shouted. "So," she murmured to the T.A.—to Mr. Mikaelson—who had taken to staring at Tyler, "next Friday?"

Mr. Mikaelson nodded absently, moving his focus to her. "Yeah," he said quietly, sending a rush through Caroline. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Who, Tyler?" Caroline asked, surprised the question even came out Mikaelson's mouth. Was he allowed to ask her questions like that? She didn't think so. And was it her, or was there a slight stiffness in his tone?

"Yeah, Mr. Lockwood."

Caroline looked over Mr. Mikaelson's shoulder at the quarterback's I-Could-Be-An-Abercrombie-Model face. She contemplated not giving an answer, but for some reason couldn't help herself from saying, "No, he isn't."

Without waiting to see his reaction, Caroline stepped around Mr. Mikaelson and walked to Tyler. As she grabbed his arm and dragged him away, she could have sworn she felt someone's eyes burning a hole through the back of her shirt.

Tuesday's government class was going to be fun.

—

Tyler drove like Caroline knew he would. Carelessly, dangerously, and with his eyes skating over her every few seconds. When she'd asked him earlier in the day to drive her home, she had been expecting this electrical current to be flowing between them the entire ride. She certainly felt the beginnings of it when he had said yes. But it seemed dead now, which confused the young cheerleader.

It could have been the horrid music playing. Thumping, but in a really bad way. Loud, also in a bad way. And the lyrics were atrocious. They made no sense whatsoever, and Caroline liked to think of herself as an expert on analysing song lyrics.

Then again, it could be the hand firmly secured to her knee that seemed to only be inching its way up her thigh.

Caroline crossed her legs, causing Tyler's hand to drop, and moved closer to the car door. "So, who's this?"

"Who's who?" Tyler asked, swerving to avoid a little boy playing at the side of the road.

"The band."

"Oh, these cool local guys I saw at the Grill a while back," Tyler explained, nodding his head to the thoughtless, incessant beat. "You like 'em?"

Caroline wanted to blurt no, but she was determined to make Tyler like her, so she said, "Sure," in a probably very unconvincing way. Tyler seemed to take it though, and continued bobbing his head and even took to tapping the steering wheel.

Finally, but not before two more of the band's songs came on, making Caroline want to throw caution to the wind and jump out of the moving car, Tyler pulled up to her empty house. Caroline quickly unbuckled and picked up her bag, unsure of how to process the sudden change in how she viewed Tyler. The qualities that once made her knees week—the way he ruffled his hair, his smile—now made her cringe.

She'd been crushing on the quarterback since freshman year. What the hell was wrong with her?

"Where are you going?" Tyler asked when she'd pulled the door handle toward her.

Caroline blinked and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Tyler killed the engine, a very odd expression painting his face—smirk, eyebrows planted at his hairline, head tilted down. Was he trying to look flirtatious? Sexy? Caroline couldn't quite figure it out. Was he in pain? It kind of looked like he was in pain.

"Tyler, are you okay?" she asked, though all she really wanted to do was fly into her house and forget this horrible car ride ever happened.

Tyler's face didn't move, he just creepily nodded his head. Very slowly.

Oh, God, what if he was having a stroke? She didn't know what to do when someone was having a stroke!

Wait, no, she did. They covered it during her most recent CPR certification class. She was supposed to stay completely clam, call 911, and refrain from feeding him anything.

It didn't take Caroline very long to realise Tyler wasn't in dire need of medical attention. In the seconds following his strange facial expression Tyler reached over and grabbed Caroline's face, puckering his lips in a way that told Caroline he hadn't agreed to take her home purely to be helpful.

"Ugh!" Caroline thundered in disgust, pressing her hands flat against Tyler's chest and pushing as hard as she could.

Tyler flew back against his door, his head slamming into the window. He shrieked in pain. "What the fuck?"

"Are you kidding me right now? Seriously, Tyler?" Caroline swiped at her mouth even though there had been no lip-on-lip action. She glared at him, and he glared back at her. "I didn't ask you to drive me home so you could sexually assault me! God, what is wrong with you?"

"I thought you wanted this!" Tyler shouted, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. Satisfaction raced through Caroline at the sight. "You've been flirting with me forever. You touch me whenever I'm near you. I know you like me!"

Tyler's words hit Caroline squarely in the chest. True, she had definitely been crushing hard on the quarterback for a long time now, and yeah, she didn't exactly know why the thought of him kissing her absolutely repulsed her all of a sudden, but he definitely went about this the wrong way.

As soon as she was done verbally tearing him to bits, Caroline had plans to go inside and rip out all of her diary entries that were dedicated to Tyler Lockwood. And to burn the jersey he had given her not too long ago after the Timberwolves won their homecoming game.

"You asshole!" Caroline shrieked. "What the hell makes you think I wanted you to pounce on me? In the fucking car of all places? I'm not that kind of girl, Tyler, and it makes me sick to think that the only reason you took me home was because you hoped you'd get lucky. And, God! Just because I maybe flirted with you does not give you permission to grope me without talking to me about it first! You have a mouth, and it wasn't put on your face for the sole purpose of making out with girls. I'll get someone else to drive me home the next time my car's out of service, thank you very much. You can go die friendless and alone now."

Caroline huffed angrily and opened the car door, escaping as fast as she could before slamming the door shut so hard it made Tyler jump. She caught sight of his confused, irritated expression as he started up the car and zoomed off, nearly hitting a biker who flipped him off, and ran into the house feeling rather smug.

The smug feeling didn't last long. As Caroline sat at her desk to finish her homework for the weekend two days early, as she always did, she realised that something major had shifted in her universe. Tyler Lockwood, despite years of being head over heels for him, had not made her heart flutter, even when they were stuck in the enclosed space that was his very unkept car. He had tried to kiss her, and she had pushed him away. Granted, that wasn't exactly how she imagined kissing Tyler for the first time, but there was no regret storming around inside of her. She was glad she'd shoved him off of her.

Caroline dropped her pencil on her desk and closed her books. Her brain hurt too much to do homework at the moment. Things had changed dramatically from that morning, and not in a good way. In a way she couldn't even begin to comprehend. Her crush for years had become repulsive in the span of a few minutes, she actually had a good time with freaking T.A., and she found herself feeling excited of all things about seeing him again on Tuesday.

Something was not right.

Pushing her chair out from underneath her desk, Caroline got to her feet and silently walked to her full-length, white-bordered mirror, inspecting her reflection closely. While the skin beneath her blue eyes was slightly more purple than usual, nothing seemed to be amiss. Nothing physical, at least. She pulled at her face in frustration and moved to sit on her bed. Leaning to her bedside table, she clicked Play on her iPod dock. The Doors blasted through her room as she lay back and closed her eyes, a toxic mix of unease and exhilaration coursing inside of her.

She had been wrong. Government class was still tough. T.A. (calling him Mr. Mikaelson still felt weird, even when done in her head) basically ignored her the entire hour and a half. Which she was completely fine with. More than fine, if she was being honest with herself. They could have their fun during their after school sessions and go back to biting each other in the neck in school. She kind of liked it, though she had to admit it threw off her groove slightly.

They were on their fourth and final preparation meeting. Next Monday, Mr. Mikaelson would stand in front of their entire class—and the many classes before them—and deliver the best lecture Mystic Falls High School had ever heard. And it was all thanks to her.

She would never say it to his face, but she was rather excited to hear their final draft read out loud in front of the class. Students at Mystic Falls High were not known for their intelligence (football was all the rage, and considering her recent encounter with the star footballer, Caroline could think nothing but gag), but every now and again there would be an attractive—not that Tanner's T.A. was what she would consider "attractive"—who bounced with information and naivety, and everyone would fall over themselves to listen to what they had to say. They would suck up the lessons, burn them into their brains.

Caroline had a feeling Mr. Mikaelson would have no problem getting the entire school to listen to him talk about civil disobedience.

"You're early."

Caroline, who had been lazing on one of the picnic benches while waiting for T.A. to show up, straightened and turned her head, watching as Mr. Mikaelson, dressed in navy blue slacks and a pale grey dress shirt, walked toward her, his messenger bag hanging off of his shoulder.

She smirked as he sat down across from her, noticing his scruffy face and tired eyes. "I just wanted to beat you here. I think I've officially won now."

During their first session, Mr. Mikaelson had commented on her early arrival. Following a few moments of bickering they decided to make it a contest: Who could show up the earliest for their meetings. Today, Caroline had cut class five minutes early in order to beat the smug bastard that was her government teacher's T.A. There was no set prize, just simple satisfaction. And boy was she satisfied.

"Yeah, yeah," T.A. brushed off, smiling slightly at her. "You're the best and yadda, yadda, yadda."

Unbidden, Caroline's heart picked up in speed. "Do I get anything? Or just your praise? Because while I think just your praise is enough, I kinda really want something to commemorate this win."

Caroline was suddenly thankful her mother had placed her in acting lessons after her father passed away. They taught her how to pretend she wasn't nervous when she really was.

Mr. Mikaelson wrote something in his notebook before looking at her, his dopey half-smile dancing like fire across his lips. "I'll give you a raving review to Will—Mr. Tanner. Get you that A you're dying for."

Heat rose to the surface of Caroline's cheeks and chest. His smile seemed to do that to her, annoyingly enough. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're welcome, Caroline. Now, let's get this bad boy finished." T.A. began spouting off bits from his lecture, and Caroline forced herself to actually listen to him rather than focus solely on his voice.

She was so utterly and completely screwed.

—

They were finished. T.A. was busy packing up his things, and Caroline couldn't help but feel . . . sad that it was all over.

The blond shook her head discreetly, her waves smacking her in the face. She couldn't be sad. It wasn't right. He was older than her by six years. He was her teacher's assistant. Being sad they were no longer allowed to spend time with each other outside of class (because they really, really weren't allowed to, it was practically against the law) was silly. She was so used to not prescribing to the typical female hormonally driven emotions, but Mr. Mikaelson seemed to bring out the bimbo in her. More so than even Tyler Lockwood.

Funny how she used to hate Tanner's T.A. and now she couldn't get enough of him. Damn Bonnie and her stupid you should totally have a sordid love affair with our T.A. How crazy would that be! idea.

Feelings like this were frowned upon. And it wasn't as if he even felt the same way.

Though there were the lingering glances she had to take into account, where his blue as blue eyes seemed to glue themselves to her face. And the rare times his leg brushed against hers and sent an army of goosebumps stomping up her skin. And the fact that he laughed at all of her sarcastic, dry jokes when nobody else did.

But, then again, he was English. Wasn't all of their humour dry and sarcastic? That was probably it, she decided. She simply reminded him of his home country.

Although she often caught him smiling at her when he though she wasn't looking, something she only knew because whenever she did catch him smiling at her, all of the hair coating her skin stood on-end.

No, bad Caroline, she chastised internally.

Bad Caroline indeed.

She was being such an idiot.

"Well," T.A. said, startling her. She has to refrain from clutching her chest. T.A. was now standing, bag slung over his shoulder. "This has been an experience."

He held out his hand, obviously wanting her to take it, but she could not bring herself to move. One million thoughts were storming around in her poor head, all of them to do with the almost-teacher standing before her. She didn't want him to go. She didn't want this to be their last one-on-one meeting.

She didn't want to spend the next month and a bit staring at him over a desk and then never see him again.

She wanted him.

"Caroline?"

T.A. was bent slightly forward, hand no longer outstretched. Caroline registered that he looked concerned. His eyebrows were furrowed, causing a crease—a beautiful crease—to form above his nose, and his lips were pursed.

His lips. God, his lips.

Caroline wasn't impulsive. She was anything but, in fact. Everything she did and said were thoroughly thought out and planned beforehand, otherwise she ended up looking like a fool. But standing there with T.A. so close to her—she lost her mind.

Without thinking about the consequences, without even realising there would be consequences, Caroline tilted her head upwards and captured Mr. Mikaelson's lips in a searing kiss. Her arms automatically coiled around his neck, her fingers bunched in his untamed curls.

Sugar. He tasted like sugar. As her lips swayed with his she swore she tasted pure sugar in his mouth.

When Mr. Mikaelson grabbed her waist to pull her closer, Caroline knew she had really won, and this was most definitely her prize. He was kissing her back with a fervour that matched her own, pressing their bellies together in a way that made Caroline the type of dizzy she had only ever read about in books.

Everything felt like it was falling perfectly into place. Like they were built for this, put on earth only to be with each other. She wasn't much one for fate, but kissing T.A. was making her rethink the idea of destiny.

"Wait, Caroline," T.A. mumbled onto her tongue, moving his hands up to her shoulders and pulling away from her.

One look at his dismayed face—swollen lips downturned, eyes glossed over with shame—and Caroline knew she had just made the single biggest mistake of her entire existence.

"Oh, God," she rasped. She placed a hand over her mouth. "I—I'm so sorry."

Tears spilled from their ducts, threatening to overflow. Silently and quickly, Caroline bent to grab her bag, turned on her heel and ran off, skidding to a stop when she reached her car. Once inside, she buried her face in her hands and cried until her eyes were dry.

A/N 2: What did you guys think?

Until next time,

LoveIsATemple