She's been in Chicago two weeks.

Stepping out into the chilly fall morning, coffee cup in hand, she nearly slips on the top step because she's paying too much attention to shoving keys into her purse and not where she's going. The cup goes flying out of hand, as she grabs wildly for the banister, keeping herself upright by sheer determination.

"Careful there," a voice calls from below. "That last one is a doozy."

For a moment she's mortified that someone was there to bare witness to her klutziness, cheeks instantly going red, but she brushes the hair from her eyes and puts on a self depreciating grin.

"I would say careful is my middle name," she offers. "But somehow I don't think you'd believe me."

"Well, I would have to ask for identification just to be sure," he gives back. "Not that I'm calling you a liar."

She takes a good look at him, broad shoulders covered by a combination of hoodie and leather jacket, jawline sharp enough to cut paper with eyes hidden behind big black sunglasses. Her eyebrows lift upward involuntarily, and she inwardly cringes not wanting to be so obvious, but hello.

Her mouth opens to say something, what exactly her brain doesn't follow through on, but it snaps back shut when he offers up her errant coffee cup.

"You did not catch that," she mutters in disbelief.

He grins and she wishes he didn't, because damn.

"Quick reflexes," he replies. "You could say that's my middle name."

She takes the cup.

"Then I'm going to need to see some ID. Not that I'm calling you a liar."

The grin becomes a smile, and god, she really needs to stop staring.

"So you're the new tenant in 4F?" He asks.

If she didn't know any better, it appears he's pretty keen on keeping the conversation going.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only when you know everyone else in the building."

Well then, she thinks. Not so green looking to the big city after all. She checks her phone for the time, and yeah cute guy or not, if she doesn't leave in the next minute she's going to be late.

"I'm sorry," she starts, shoving the phone back into her coat. "But I've really go to-"

"Of course," he concedes, stepping to the side to let her pass. "Have a good day, Careful."

"Caroline," she corrects over her shoulder once she hits the sidewalk.

"Caroline," he repeats.

Her cheeks go red again at the way he says her name. Like it won't be the last.

/\

It's three days before they cross paths again.

In the lobby this time, she in full control of her motor functions, he sitting on the bench next to the mailboxes she assumed no one ever used. There's a newspaper in his hand, and that's what honestly catches her eye, because really who reads newspapers anymore?

"Morning Caroline," he calls, eyes focused on the print in front of him, an instant smile at her lips with the familiarity he puts into her name.

"Morning Stefan," she returns, a small laugh escaping her when the paper folds quickly in his hand, surprise that she'd acquired his name when he himself hadn't given it.

Stefan Salvatore, small town transplant same as she, but from a military family that moved around a lot. He's a gemini and his favorite color is blue. Not that she Googled him, and got all the information within five minutes of sitting down at her work desk. No sir, nothing of the kind.

"Are you a detective?" he asks playfully, one brow arched up.

"No, but my mom's a cop," is her reply. "Guess it might have rubbed off a little."

His face stays neutral at the reveal, which leads her to believe that little fact is not new to him.

"That and working as a production assistant for a local news broadcast," he tosses back. "An inquisitive nature coupled with all that information available at your fingertips. Tell me Miss Forbes, should I be afraid?"

Their eyes meet in a lighthearted standoff.

"Absolutely."

He laughs and sets the paper on the bench next to him.

"So you asked around about me?" She asks after a beat.

"Looks like an inquisitive nature is something we have in common," he answers. "That and coffee."

Her head tilts curiously. "Coffee?"

"There's a great place a few blocks from here," he says, rising to his feet. "If you'd care to join me?"

He heads for the door all Joe Cool, acting like he's not concerned whether or not she follows, so she lets him get all the way down the steps and only moves to join when he looks back worried that his little play had failed.

/\

She's drunk.

Bonnie and Elena had asked her to go for drinks after the production meeting and she, still being new to town and always up for a good time, had accepted without a moments hesitation. Problem is their favorite watering hole also happens to be a karaoke bar, and Caroline had lost count of how many drinks she'd consumed, because everyone kept buying after performing 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' to rousing applause.

Now Bonnie and Elena have both disappeared, and she has no idea where she is, or what the bar is called. His number /is the only one in her phone with a local area code, the alcohol in her blood somehow not diminishing that cognitive capability, and to her surprise he picks up on the second ring.

"Help," she says instead of hello.

"Caroline?"

"I'm kind of," she starts, pausing to let her hard fall back against the wall. "Kind of lost and-"

"Had too much to drink," he fills in.

"Well of course I have," she defends. "But that doesn't make me any less lost."

He's quiet too long for her liking.

"Hello?" She calls. "Hello? This stupid pho-"

"Use your phone to check in," he offers.

"Use it to what?"

"Use your phone," he repeats. "To check in at the bar."

"Check in at the-oh."

She pulls it from her ear, fiddles with the apps until finally finding the right one.

"Okay," she says. "Done."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

She lets out a breath.

"My hero."

/\

His face is one of confusion, when the door opens, and she instantly pushes the plate of muffins toward him. Two days after his bar rescue, two days of ignoring his texts and avoiding all contact in the building, she finally feels like she can look him in the eye again.

"I didn't say thank you," she offers, still pushing the plate. "For what you did. I mean, we barely even know each other, and I just call you out of the blue like that. But you came through, and I-"

"Do you always talk this much when you're grateful?" He interrupts.

She gapes at him, mildly stung.

"Don't worry," he assures. "It's adorable."

Nice save, she thinks. Remembering waking up that next morning, a glass of water and couple of aspirin waiting for her on the nightstand, a note from him telling her to feel better. Really, it's like he's from some other time where being a gentleman was something males were actually concerned with.

He steps aside, the wordless invite all she needs to cross the threshold. He takes the plate from her and sets it on the nearest table, offering to get some napkins so they can both enjoy the baked goods. She takes a seat on his sofa, some relic the color of pea soup, and looks around the apartment. Slightly smaller than her unit, everything has a kind of odd faded quality to it, like nothing here has been updated since the building was completed.

There are books everywhere, and it takes her a minute to realize he doesn't even have a TV, no iPod dock either just a small record player that must be fifty years old. She'd think him a hipster if he didn't dress so well.

He returns a few minutes later with a steaming cup of coffee for her, and a muffin perched on a napkin as promised.

"Totally into the vintage thing, huh?" She asks, blowing into the mug.

Stefan has already bitten into his muffin, unable to answer her poke, chewing quickly and miming he's going to.

"You could say that," comes out coyly.

"Seriously," she teases. "Do you own anything in here from this decade?"

Stefan takes a sip of coffee.

"My microwave, I think." He answers. "But it could be from the 90's, I'm not really sure."

She laughs.

"You're an odd duck, Stefan."

He grins.

"I've been called worse."

/\

When the head of security at the station asks her out, she pauses a little too long for the interaction to be comfortable. Not that he isn't attractive, all blue eyes and toned arms, but she's kinda sorta got something going on with her neighbor? Maybe?

She doesn't know what to say, because she and Stefan are not dating. They haven't even kissed. God she'd wanted to, sharing coffee and embarrassment muffins in his apartment, but somehow the moment never presented itself.

Matt starts to scratch the back of his head, instinct already telling him she's not interested, but when she opens her mouth to let him down easy, he's already smiling.

"Don't worry about it," he says with a little chuckle. "Just thought I'd give it a shot."

She watches him walk away, hugging the clipboard in hand to her chest, wondering if she should have said yes.

Bonnie teases her about over lunch, pointedly waving a skewered carrot in her direction.

"Can't believe you said no," she tosses out, before pulling the fork into her mouth.

Caroline sighs, absently stabbing at her own salad, splitting all the croutons she's most likely not going to eat in half.

"It wasn't a no exactly," she defends. "I just kind of froze. I mean, we've never really said much to each other besides 'good morning' since I started, you know?"

Bonnie laughs.

"I don't know how your people go about getting to know someone in Mystic Creek. But where I come from, going on a date is a perfectly acceptable way to do that."

"Falls," Caroline corrects. "Mystic Falls."

"Right, well. How do you date in Mystic Falls?"

Caroline blushes, looking away, mumbling under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Someone asks," Caroline repeats, turning back to her friend. "And you say yes."

"Same for Salem," Bonnie replies with a nod. "You still didn't say yes."

"I didn't say anything actually," Caroline defends.

"Is it because of neighbor guy?" she asks.

Caroline looks away again. Bonnie smiles.

"Plot thickens," she needles. "He was hot."

"You only saw his back."

"It was a hot back."

That makes Caroline laugh, and a second later Bonnie follows.

/\

Of course he has a girlfriend.

In a leather jacket similar to the one she first saw him in, long luxurious hair that has probably never been victim to a split end, and a perfect smile that reveals pearly white teeth worthy of toothpaste commercials. They're laughing about something, insecurity stabbing away internally, that it's about her.

What a sucker she is. A fool.

She and Stefan's continual flirtation, nothing but a source of amusement with the one he truly wants. Caroline is frozen on the corner from where she spots them, they're too wrapped up in each other to even notice her crazy wide eyed stare, and she can't help but scowl when the blonde bimbo loops her arm through his.

She doesn't move until they are long from view, then tears up the stairs and straight into her apartment.

A few hours later, there's a knock on the door, and she seriously considers not answering it because she can hear them laughing on the other side. What kind of sadist must he be? To not only have someone on the side the entire short time they've known each other, but he actually has the gall to bring her around for a meet and greet?

After another flurry of knocks, Caroline yanks open the door, ready to lay into Stefan but is met with a pair of playful hazel eyes.

"You!" the girl shouts, far louder than she must intend, because she instantly recoils. "Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean t/o just yell in your face there. But yes, you. Caroline right? I've heard so much about you and I just couldn't wait until Captain Anti-social back here worked up the courage."

Stefan catches her eye, shoulders shrugged and sheepish, this clearly not his idea but also is in no position to stop it.

"I'm Lexi," the blonde inserts, sticking out her hand for Caroline to shake. "His sister."

"Sister?" Caroline echoes.

"Well not really," Lexi admits, swinging back to give Stefan a good natured sock on the arm. "But practically, if you know what I mean."

Caroline is so confused.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Best friends, forever. Literally. And no, before you think otherwise, there was never a thing." She emphasizes with a back and forth motion of her hand. "Here. Friends. Hell, family."

Caroline looks to Stefan again, who once more shrugs helplessly.

"Be a lamb and invite us in?" Lexi asks. "I'd hate to be so rude as to just barge on through."

Caroline blinks.

"Oh, of course. Of course, come in."

Lexi brushes past Caroline, pausing to whisper in her ear, "now I see what all the fuss is about." Then makes herself comfortable on the couch.

"Forgive her," Stefan asks, stepping inside. "She's kind of a-"

"Force of nature!" Lexi shouts from behind.

"Yeah, that."

Stefan goes to sit next to her on the couch, while Caroline's mind rushes for the proper etiquette in regards to unplanned company, but comes up empty. She just finds herself sitting on the chair opposite the two of them.

"So tell me Caroline," Lexi begins, a wicked gleam in her eye. "What are your feelings toward Bon Jovi?"

/\

It's nearly three in the morning when Caroline approaches the stoop, another long night of production meetings where nothing but bad ideas seem to be generated, the sight of Stefan sitting on the steps somewhat surprising considering the time let alone the temperature.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," she teases.

His easy smile makes her return it, as she moves to take the spot next to him, thinking how oddly comfortable they're becoming the more they get to know each other.

"Seriously," she goes on. "What are you doing up so late?"

He gives her shoulder a little bump.

"I'm a vampire."

"Ha, ha," she laments with a roll of her eyes.

"It's a secret," he continues. "Don't tell anyone."

She bumps him back.

"I'm just going to assume that's code for I can't sleep," she says, instantly going warm at how their arms brush up against each other. "Hardly surprising with all the coffee that you drink."

He chuckles at that, and they stay silent for a moment, just enjoying one another's company.

"Want to know a real secret?" He asks.

"It better be juicy," she warns. "Give me the hot gossip, not another comic book confession."

"It is."

"Oh," her eyebrows shoot upward. "Do tell."

"I kind of," he starts, looking back at the door. "Own the building."

For a second she's not sure she heard him right. He owns the building? Like owns it lock, stock, and barrel? He can't be that much older than her, even if she'd just assumed they were the same age it never occurred to ask, but owning apartment buildings on the north side of Chicago doesn't seem like something people in their age bracket just do.

"This building?" She repeats, her free arm waving emphatically behind them.

He nods.

"But you're not the one I signed a lease with."

Stefan laughs.

"You do realize this conversation started with my stating it was a secret, right?"

That free hand moves to cover her face. "Yeah, duh."

He laughs again as his hand falls to her leg, both suddenly hushed by the action.

"Here I thought you were going to confess to some hidden crush on me," fumbles out of her mouth.

"Caroline," he says in all seriousness. "That's hardly a secret, isn't it?"

When he kisses her she realizes no, it couldn't possibly be, but his lips taste like they're made of a thousand more.