Hello hello!

Edit 1/20/17: I posted this story a while back (March 28, 2014 to be exact, YIKES WHERE DID THE TIME GO), but I was reading through it today and decided that it needed a little bit of a sprucing (aka I needed to edit it all the way up to Jesus). The idea behind this story is rather amusing, but feel free to skip it if you so desire. It's a free country...I think. Trump's recent ascension to presidency doesn't exactly give me a lot of confidence in that respect. BUT ANYWAY.

[My story: So I'm in Fiction Writing II, and my professor has made it clear many times throughout the semester that she absolutely detests fanfiction, and doesn't consider it an art form. I understand her view, and I respect her right to dislike fanfiction, but the fact that she doesn't consider it an expression of art is just bullshit. Anyway, I got my most recent assignment the other day, and i just happened to watch a Steroline video right before I started writing.

Can you guess where my inspiration came from?

I decided, I'm going to write a fucking fanfiction, change the names, and turn it in. If I get a good grade - and I really feel like I fulfilled the assignment requirements, and that it's a good piece if I may say so myself - I can smile to myself because HA. YOU JUST READ MY FANFICTION FOR AN ACADEMIC PROJECT. SUCK IT.

So this fanfic was born from a combination of my professor's assignment, a fantastic variety of Steroline videos, and my determination to have my teacher read/grade a piece of fanfiction in disguise. If 50 Shades of Grey can do it, then so can I...]

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You Know Me

a Vampire Diaries fanfic

by Sapphire Raindrop

Stefan leans back in his chair, cracking his neck with a slow twist of his head and rolling his tense shoulders. Usually he isn't on desk duty, but the assistant that usually handles the paperwork for St. Uley Hospital's patients called in sick that day, so Stefan—one of the newest employees—had been volunteered to fill in.

As he sets his pen down on the desk, Stefan takes a moment to thank God that his usual job has him up and on his feet. Walking to and from examination rooms, up and down stairs, the works. It's taxing at times, but at least he's going places. Sitting at a desk and staring at a computer screen for hours at a time is a special form of torture. Stefan's time in medical school had taught him that much. His experience had taught him a lot of things, not all of them related to medicine.

Stefan grimaces as he remembers. Looking back on the event, he wishes he had had the common sense to end his relationship with Elena the moment he sensed that things weren't right. It would've saved him a lot of grief and his liver a lot of damage. Thankfully, that unfortunate period was safely buried in the past. To the best of Stefan's knowledge, Elena is currently living with Damon, and it shows how far Stefan's come that he wishes them nothing but the best whenever their relationship comes to mind.

After completing his four years of medical school, Stefan was determined to find a hospital in which he'd be an active member, not wanting to settle for a receptionist job. He struck gold when he found St. Uley. It was everything he wanted in a residency job—a smaller hospital, a ten-minute walk from his apartment and located in one of the nicer areas of New York City. Stefan's medical school already had him living in the city, and so it was a no-brainer. Stefan started at Uley a year ago, and has never once regretted his decision.

At twenty-six years old, Stefan is very happy with where he is in life. He's living comfortably, has a few close friends, and loves his job. Yeah, life is pretty damn good.

Stefan smiles at one of his coworkers as he walks by, and is about to get started on the next batch of paperwork – prescription request forms for a series of older patients – when a familiar voice calls out his name.

He looks up, and sees his best friend Caroline strutting down the hall toward him, her immaculately curled blonde hair loose around her shoulders. He says strut because that's the only way to describe it—she walks like someone who is well aware of who she is, and chooses to flaunt it rather than try to deny or cover up. She's wearing a bright blue sundress and weathered high-heel boots in lieu of her usual work attire.

Stefan's known Caroline since his second year of medical school and so he knows her reason for pursuing a career as a homicide detective. But to those who didn't know her, homicide investigation is the last career they would pair with Caroline.

Looking at her now, Stefan can't blame them. Caroline's always been good at putting on a good face.

Three years ago…

Stefan was on his way to being ridiculously drunk. He knew that much, though the reason for his getting so drunk refused to leave his brain no matter how much he drank.

The solution? Drink more, obviously.

He had a free weekend for the first time in a long time—as a second year medical school student usually he had a huge lab analysis due, along with a shit-ton of textbook readings—and it was as if fate had prepared him for a weekend of wallowing in his own misery. Stefan had gotten all of his work done so that he could visit Elena for the weekend. She had been complaining about his never having time to see her, and so he was hoping to surprise her by showing up at her apartment.

"Bastard," Stefan slurred to no one in particular, slugging back another shot. The alcohol burned at his throat, but he welcomed the sensation. His throat had burned earlier that day, too, but that was probably the burn of vomit.

Seeing his girlfriend of five years—the girlfriend he had been planning to propose to the moment he finished medical school— having sex with his supposed best friend Damon wasn't exactly the most pleasant of sights. Stefan hadn't even stayed to hear their explanations, he had chucked the flowers he bought on the way to her apartment and fled to the nearest bar.

Stefan had left his phone in his jacket pocket, turned off, because he didn't want to have to deal with their texts and calls. They could go fuck themselves into a coma, for all he cared. He didn't need Elena, or a "best friend" like Damon. He had alcohol and a full wallet. That was all that he needed.

"So, you finally found out, huh?" a feminine voice asked, and Stefan relaxed when he realized that it wasn't Elena's. The room was a bit hazy as Stefan turned in his seat, but he was still sober enough to focus on the woman that had spoken.

The blonde woman was around his age and very pretty, but Stefan was into brunettes. Elena was a brunette, her hair long and straight with a rebellious strip of red running through it. He had always thought it made her already sexy hair even sexier—Elena had a wild streak and he loved that about her.

"Cat got your tongue, Stefan?" the blonde asked, sitting beside him without invitation. Her face was a bit flushed, and he spotted a glass of amber liquid in her hand. How did she know his name?

"Who are you?" Stefan demanded, stumbling a bit over the words. Alcohol always made his tongue like lead, but eh, it was a distraction from the hurt he felt. Fucking women, too busy fucking best friends to give a damn. He needed another drink. Stefan signaled the bartender to get him another shot.

"Some medical school student you are. I'm Caroline, remember? Elena's roommate from the last year of undergrad? We've met at least three times…"

"Oh," Stefan mumbled into his next shot glass, not finding it in him to be sorry. The alcohol burned the smidge of guilt away, and he smacked his lips. They were numb; perfect, that meant he was good and drunk.

Caroline sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, I told her to break it off with you months ago–"

That last two words hit Stefan like a ton of bricks, and he slammed the shot glass down on the bar table.

"Months ago? She's been fucking my best friend for months?"

Caroline swirled the contents of her glass around a bit, her brows scrunching together sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I should've…she really loves you, y'know. Just not like that anymore."

"Bullshit," Stefan growled, throwing back another shot.

The thought of sweet, beautiful (cheating) Elena kissing Stefan goodbye after a date, only to go have sex with Damon immediately after made him want to puke all over again. And then go and find his former best friend so he could beat the absolute shit out of him.

"Hey, don't say that, she really does. I know her better than you do, which is kinda sad seeing as you've known her way longer than I have."

"You done? Kind of busy trying to drink away my feelings," Stefan snapped.

Caroline glared at him, and he noticed how blue her eyes were. Too bright, too clear, not dark and mysterious like Elena's were.

"You're not the only one hurting, asshole. Why do you think I'm here?" she asked.

"To give relationship advice to people who've just been cheated on?"

Caroline groaned. "You were so much nicer when I met you before."

"Yeah, before I found out my girlfriend was hooking up with my best friend for months behind my back. Sorry that I'm not all sunshine and flowers."

"And you think I am?"

Stefan turned to raise an eyebrow at her. At least, he was pretty sure he was raising his eyebrow—he couldn't really feel his face.

"If the shoe fits…" He trailed off, waving an unsteady hand at her.

Caroline wore a short, tight red dress with an open back and plunging neckline. Her makeup was nearly flawless, only a bit smudged around the eyes. Her red lips gleamed in the golden lights of the bar, an almost-smile lingering at the corners. She was the picture of a woman who had men lining up around the block just to get her number.

It made Stefan curl his lip automatically, because she looked like one of those girls who flirted with anyone so long as she got a free drink. He had encountered too many of those in his undergraduate years, he was past the point where that was appealing.

Caroline fumed. "Can't a girl be cheerful, wear make up and like dressing up sexy without being labeled a ditzy airhead? Gah, you're just like everyone else!" Caroline snapped. She downed her drink before continuing:

"For your information, I'm here because my boyfriend dumped me for a—and I quote—'hotter' girl who happens to be an Italian model. I'm here because just like you, the supposed love of my life decided that I wasn't worth it anymore. So take your judgmental assumptions and go fuck yourself. I tried to help you, tried to be nice, but nope! I'm done! Have fun drinking alone."

Caroline grabbed her purse and made to leave, and Stefan was content to let her…at least, he thought he was. His hand reached out to grab her arm, almost without his permission.

"I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm not usually an asshole, I'm just…can you sit back down? I'll buy you a drink," he said, managing to say it without slurring too much.

Caroline stared down at him for a moment, and then huffed. But she sat down again and that made Stefan feel slightly better.

"Look, I get it, you're hurt about Elena. But take it from someone who's been dumped more times than I care to admit…lashing out doesn't help. It only makes it worse," Caroline said softly.

Stefan blinked, and looked over at her. For all that she was polished and sported a sexy pout, Caroline's expression was distant, sad. It might have been the alcohol talking, but she looked like…a secret. Not like she was hiding something, but that Stefan was seeing something that she wasn't used to showing. Like the Caroline he was looking at now was the secret.

Caroline caught him staring and in an instant the wariness was back; the vulnerability was gone. Stefan blinked, perplexed at himself. She wasn't his type and yet he had been staring at her like that. Definitely drunk-Stefan's fault.

"Anyway, what I meant earlier is that Elena really cares about you. I'm not saying I think her cheating is right, because it isn't. No one deserves that. But she still wants the best for you. She just…she moved on."

"We were together, how could she move on?" Stefan spat, and Caroline raised her eyebrows at him. "Sorry," he apologized, sitting back in his seat.

"Stefan, I'm gonna be real with you here. You weren't there for her. She's out of college, living in a part of the city she doesn't especially like, working a job that she hates—"

She hated her job? But she always said…no, she never talked about her job much. She always wanted to talk about my classes, my workload, Stefan mused, sobering slightly at the realization.

"—all to live close to you. It was fine when you were both in undergrad, but now? I don't know exactly what she's thinking—she doesn't like to talk much about the your guys' relationship problems, which says something about how much she still respects you—but I can guess. If I were in her position, I would've dumped you a while ago," Caroline bluntly admitted.

"Comforting," Stefan muttered, her words sinking in even through the haze of alcohol. Why hadn't Elena told him any of this? They were so close; surely she would tell him if she wasn't happy?

Did Stefan really know her as well as he thought he did?

"Here's my guess," Caroline offered, waiting until the bartender had re-filled her glass before continuing. "Things didn't sour because you stopped loving her, or that you stopped showing it. It wasn't because of you, but because of the fact that she didn't have a life of her own. It finally got to the point where she was willing to do anything just to break out of that rut. That's the problem with college relationships; they're fun and lighthearted because there're no real responsibilities beyond part-time work and homework. But then the real world hits, and we realize that dating is more than just being surface-compatible. You have to really think about what you need long-term and determine if the person you're with can give it to you."

"Are you always this philosophical with strangers?"

"Shut up, do you want my help or not?" Caroline asked bossily, and Stefan rolled his eyes, but waved his hand for her to continue. With a flip of her straightened hair, she did so.

"In college, it's easy. You're on the same campus; you have the same endgame—graduation. But after? You left to medical school, and she followed you instead of making her own way. You didn't see it because she was good at hiding it. But let's face it, you weren't looking all that hard. People need to have their own lives, Stefan. Damon was a dick for not telling you, but he also cared about her enough to call her out on it."

Stefan didn't know how to respond. His drink sat untouched on the bar because his mind was struggling to come to terms with all that he had heard. He suddenly wished that he hadn't downed as much alcohol as he had; everything was dim and wavering.

Caroline raised her glass in a silent salute before taking a large gulp. Her face contorted into a grimace that immediately dispelled every bit of allure she had probably spent hours crafting before going out that night.

"Gah, I hate whiskey. Gets me drunk, sure, but taste-wise? Yech!" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. Stefan watched the shiny blonde strands settle back down perfectly over her shoulders and scoffed.

"What?" Caroline demanded, defensively squaring her shoulders.

"It's just…you go off on this wise, philosophical rant about love and how relationships work, but then you make that face and complain about whiskey," Stefan explained. "It's very confusing."

"Well, maybe you need to be less judgmental, you ass," Caroline suggested, but there was no venom behind the insult. Stefan gave her that one, and the two of them sipped at their drinks for a while. Stefan finally finished his and glanced at his watch, the numbers swimming slightly. It was two in the morning.

Caroline glanced at her cellphone and then at Stefan.

"Hey, do you want to make a cake?"

"What?" Stefan asked, even though he had heard her perfectly well. He just had to make sure she had said what he thought she said.

"What, are you deaf as well as all judgey? I said cake; do you want to make one?"

"Um—"

"C'mon, it'll be great. It's the best kind, yellow cake with chocolate frosting. I have all the stuff at my place, we can go there, drink some good tasting alcohol, and pig out on cake. You in?"

Stefan blinked, and Caroline must have read into that somehow because she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, we're both hurting over our exes, I'm not gonna jump you or anything. It'll just be cake and booze, maybe a movie if we're bored."

Stefan thought about it. He did have a free weekend, and he wasn't about to admit it, but yellow cake with chocolate frosting was his favorite kind of dessert. Caroline was giving him puppy dog eyes, which had never worked with Elena and wasn't working now.

"Stop that."

"Is it working?" Caroline asked, her straight white teeth showing when she grinned.

"No, so stop it."

"Fine. But you'll come?"

Stefan nodded, and Caroline squealed with delight. It was such a girl thing to do that Stefan instinctively rolled his eyes. Caroline ignored him and grabbed his arm, pulling him with her to the register so they could settle their tabs.

Then, they headed off into the night to call a cab, because after careful consideration they decided that neither of them was sober enough to drive.

Caroline beams at Stefan, leaning her elbows against the counter and peering down at him. "I've been looking for you for at least half an hour, jerkface…and all along you've been playing receptionist? You hate desk work."

"I know, but Renee called in sick today, so I had to fill in. What's with the outfit?" Stefan asks, pointedly looking her up and down and pretending that he doesn't get a kick out of the way her entire body bristles in response.

"When will you ever get over the fact that as a strong, independent woman, I—"

"—have a right to wear whatever the hell you want," Stefan finishes, laughing at her indignant expression.

"Well, it's true!"

Stefan grins. "I probably should've started with this, but is today your day off or something? Because those aren't your work clothes."

"Yeah, we just finished that Orlotzi case, so Chief gave us a few days off. Plus I banged up my ankle a bit, so I would've asked for a break if he hadn't," Caroline explains, shrugging. Stefan wisely decides not to question the safety of her injured ankle by her wearing heels—after three years, he knows better than to judge her choice of footwear.

Stefan leans back in his chair. "Well, my shift gets off in five minutes, so…"

"So you're going to stop being a goody goody for two seconds and skip out early with your best friend in the world…who will also be treating you to dinner this fine evening," Caroline whispers behind her hand, eyes bright and mischievous.

Stefan raises an eyebrow at her, smirking when she tries to mimic him. He never really thinks much of his ability to raise a single eyebrow until he's with her; her inability to do it drives her crazy with envy.

"Ugh, you suck. I might just leave you here to suffer a night alone," Caroline haughtily declares, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But maybe I was planning on picking you up for dinner? Maybe you meeting me here at work just ruined my genius plan…" Stefan offers.

Caroline stares at him, not amused in the slightest. "Very funny, Stefan. Have I ever told you that you should consider stand-up? Because you totally should."

Stefan glances at the computer's clock. "And my five minutes are up. Now we can go."

He gets to his feet, collecting his things and quickly joining Caroline out in front of the desk. She beams at him, her blue eyes shining in the late afternoon light. She really is beautiful, Stefan muses. He's always known this, but in that moment, as they walk out into the sunshine...he really feels it.

"So, where are we going?" Stefan asks as they exit the hospital. It's summer in the city, so it stays warm even as the sun goes down. Caroline glances at her phone and flicks her finger across the screen a few times, presumably looking for directions.

"Um, I was thinking we could go to that new sushi place down the block from your place? I've heard it's pretty good."

"But you don't like sushi."

Caroline crinkles her nose. "I really don't. But you do, and this is supposed to be a dinner for you, so…yeah."

"Or...we could go to Benny's, and grab a huge pizza with all the toppings," Stefan says thoughtfully, pretending to weigh the two options.

Caroline laughs—a loud, genuine laugh—and butts her shoulder against his.

"I was trying to be nice!"

"And I'm trying to avoid spending an hour watching you push the sushi around your plate and pretend to like the taste of seaweed."

"I do not push the sushi around!" Caroline protests, pushing at his arm with both hands. She's strong for someone so slender but Stefan brushes it off, snickering at her scowl.

"Whatever you say."

Caroline wants to argue, Stefan can see it in her eyes, but she finally closes her mouth and continues walking toward where she's parked.

"Fine, we'll get pizza. But on one condition."

Stefan looks down at her, waiting for her to continue.

"We have to stop at my place to get fixings for cake. I bought the stuff the other day and I've been itching to make one."

"Sounds good," Stefan agrees, and Caroline nods firmly as if she's won some sort of battle. Stefan shakes his head in amusement and looks down at her once more.

"I do hope you mean yellow cake with chocolate frosting, because I don't think I can eat strawberry cake, not after last time," Stefan casually states, a not-so-subtle reminder of the cake fiasco of just two months ago.

Caroline snorts. "You are such a drama queen, it wasn't that bad."

"Says the person who can't take a sip of whiskey without making a face."

"As for the type of cake," Caroline continues, pretending to not hear Stefan's jibe. "Of course I mean yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Your lack of faith is disturbing."

"And you're such a nerd."

"You know it!" Caroline declares in a singsong voice, and walks away from him to go the driver's side of her silver Camry.

Stefan watches Caroline open the driver-side door. He thinks back to their their first weekend hanging out at her apartment, making cake, watching movies and talking about past relationships. He thinks of the all the weekends and weekdays after that, the bickering, the serious conversations and the silly ones. It's been three years since that night at the bar.

He rather likes blonde hair, now.

"Yeah, I know you," Stefan says under his breath, and smiles.