Summary: Caroline, Bonnie, Stefan, and Damon take part in a Valentine's Day tradition and end up having, surprise surprise, a bit of a mix-up.

North End, Boston

Valentine's Day, 2018

"Modern."

"Mike's."

"Modern."

"Mike's."

"You're such a tourist."

"I live here!"

Damon clucked his tongue at Caroline's indignant retort, walking through the snowy North End with a wry look. "That just makes it worse."

"Actually, it just makes you wrong."

"How does that make me—"

"Oh my God, who cares?" Bonnie groaned, petite frame wrapped around Damon's back like a baby lemur. He'd warned her about busting out her new heels in the snow and she'd snapped back about hardly ever getting a chance to dress up, so naturally, here she was, five minutes into the walk to Bova's Bakery, arms wrapped around his neck and knees hooked over his arms. "A canoli's a canoli, it doesn't matter which bakery you get it from."

"How have they not kicked you out of this neighborhood?" Stefan said with a snort, arm draped around a windswept Caroline, and Bonnie gave a gusty sigh, totally buzzed after not having had a night out in months.

"Because I'm adorable."

Damon's nose scrunched. "Eh."

"Excuse you," she scoffed, lifting a hand to try and cover his mouth. "I'm the cutest thing on earth."

He winced as it blindly dragged over his face. "You're alright."

"I'm obnoxiously cute."

"Obnoxious, maybe."

"Like, I'm not allowed into pet stores because I make the puppies jealous."

"Kittens are cuter."

"I'll fight you."

He felt a sharp bite on his earlobe and he nipped back at her finger. "Good."

"Are we that weird?" Caroline asked, head angling up against Stefan's shoulder to look at him, and his brow furrowed in thought.

"Maybe," he mused. "I mean, I did wake up to you spreading slime on my face this morni—"

She slipped into an exasperated laugh. "I already told you, it wasn't slime!"

"…no explanation, no warning…"

"It was an avocado mask."

"Just 'Happy Valentine's Day, I'm going to suffocate you with guacamole'."

"I needed to see it on someone to know how to advertise it," she insisted, eyes bright in the midnight streetlights of Little Italy, and he shook his head.

"Felt violated."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep."

"And when I washed it off you in the shower afterwards, did you feel violated then, too?"

"Completely." He eased her forward so he could wrap both arms around her and pull her back against him, dropping his lips to her ear. "Let's go home and do it again."

Her skin warmed as he began nuzzling her neck, handsier than usual from all the wine. "Cupcakes first."

"What's a cupcake?"

The heat of his mouth in the cold air spread goosebumps over her skin. "Stefan."

"Who's Stefan?" he murmured, seamlessly slipping into kissing her neck, and for a few seconds, she actually considered ditching this whole Valentine's Day tradition and heading straight to the apartment. That is, until a sudden exclamation snapped her out of it.

"HA—see?"

Bonnie was pointing at them with a vindicated look.

"You two are just as PDA as we are."

Stefan barked out a laugh. "Negative."

"Not even close," Caroline scoffed, and Bonnie threw her hands up with a baffled look.

"Are we the ones making out in the middle of the street?"

"Right this second, no, but five minutes ago?"

"Psh—we weren't even in the street five minutes ago."

"Yeah, 'cause we were crossing through a cemetery."

Bonnie opened her mouth to argue for a stubborn second before closing it. And then she glanced down at Damon. And then she stifled a laugh. "Maybe we shouldn't be making out in cemeteries."

Damon shrugged. "Then you shouldn't have worn that dress."

"As if a cemetery is your worst offense," Caroline said, lacing her fingers with Stefan's as he tightened his arms around her waist, and Damon tipped his head back to look at Bonnie.

"Remember that time we went to Easter mass?"

Bonnie's eyes widened with amusement. "That was bad."

"That was great."

She burst out laughing. "That was so bad, why did we think that was a good idea?"

"You're the weirdo who wanted to go."

"It was Easter!" she said, throwing a hand up. "I wanted to pretend to be normal and do something wholesome."

Damon snorted. "Whoops." He glanced at a wary Caroline and Stefan and offered a helpful smile. "We ended up finding one of the confessionals and—" his face cracked into a grin as Bonnie's hand flattened over his mouth again, pulling his head back to glare down at him playfully.

"Don't make me murder you on Valentine's Day."

"It'd make a hell of a story, though," he said through her fingers, and she slid them up to brush his hair back.

"Probably make the front page."

"With looks like ours? Totally."

"I have the keys to Kai's weapon cabinet."

His eyes glittered. "The one with the javelins?"

"All the better to impale you with, my dear."

"Would you be wearing this dress?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Then I'm in."

She smiled as she played with his hair. "Sucker."

Stefan grimaced as she began nipping at Damon's nose. "They're going back to his place tonight, right?"

Caroline snorted. "Definitely—I made sure we got the apartment this year."

"Good."

"Why?" she asked, angling a slinky gaze up at him. "Got anything particular in mind?" At his innocent lack of response, her brows dove downward—wait a second. She knew that face. That wasn't the 'aw yeah sexy timez ahead' face, that was the Disney face. "Stefan."

"Mm?"

"Please tell me I'm not going to walk into another candlelit explosion of rose petals."

His lips twitched.

"Stefan."

"What?"

"That took four hours to clean up last time."

He gave a deadpan shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She whirled around in his arms to face him, expression indignant. "Stefan, I swear to God—"

"Don't worry about it," he said, walking her back toward the entrance of Bova's, hands loose around her waist, and her lips flickered with exasperation: anytime they agreed to keep something low-key he always went all out anyway.

"You're the worst," she muttered, trying but failing to keep the endearment out of her voice, and his mouth curled.

"I haven't even done anything."

"Yet."

His shoulders eased into a troll-y shrug. "Guess you'll just have to wait it out."

"Please just tell me there's no glitter—"

"Oh, look, we're here."

She pressed her lips together in a stubborn look, stare equal parts frustrated and moony-eyed, and he cupped her face and dropped a swift, warm kiss onto her lips. "There's no glitter."

"Liar."

"There might be some glitter."

"I hate you."

"Let's get some cupcakes."

The quality of Bova's pastries had been a topic of spirited debate amongst the four of them for years, but the one thing they could all agree on was how good the red velvet cupcakes were. It was the only 24-hour bakery in Boston, and it happened to be a two-minute walk from Bonnie and Caroline's apartment, so the gaggle of them ended up there often—including, it would turn out, the first Valentine's Day after the blizzard to end all blizzards.

Somehow, without any communication or planning, both couples had wandered into Bova's after their dates for late night red velvet cupcakes, and after spending an hour crammed into the tiny bakery, laughing and bickering and in general being a headache, they'd vowed to make it a Valentine's Day tradition as long as they were in Boston.

Two years later and they were still going strong.

"Oooo, look at the pizza," Bonnie cooed as Damon carried her in, lifting an arm to make grabby hands at the savory foods display, and he snorted.

"That looks like someone threw up on a crust."

"You look like someone threw up on a crust," she countered, miffed, through she promptly inhaled sharply. "Rice balls!" He lapsed into a laugh as her hand dug into his shoulder, other hand pointing back the counter. "We're totally getting rice balls."

"No, we're not."

"Damon."

"Two red velvet cupcakes," he told the cashier as they approached the counter, and Bonnie stubbornly straightened against him.

"And a rice ball," she added.

"No."

"Yes!"

He shot an exasperated look over his shoulder. "No."

"Why not!?"

"Because every time we come here you go nuts and get a bunch of radioactive looking food, and then an hour later you whine about feeling sick and call me an enabler."

"I meaaaan, that might be true, but…" she shrugged, face slowly tugging into an elfin, syrupy smile, the kind that was obnoxiously aware of its own cuteness, "it's Valentine's Day…" she slid her arms back around his shoulders, "and you love me..." she dropped her chin on his shoulder, nose scrunching, "…and I love rice balls."

He merely stared at her for a second, this beautiful, lion-hearted, ridiculous girl who had no idea how blinding she was, how much she lit up even the darkest corners of him, before turning back to the cashier and waving a defeated hand. "And a rice ball."

"Two rice balls."

He threw his head back with a groan. "Bon."

"What about confetti?" Caroline asked from a few feet away, brow furrowed and arms draped around Stefan's neck. "I'm not cleaning up confetti."

"Caroline, I promise that any mess that may or may not be in your apartment will be cleaned up by me and only me."

"So there is a mess."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it."

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Mess is a subjective word."

"How is 'mess' subjective?"

"Well, I'd argue love is a mess," he ventured, brushing his knuckles along her cheek, "and there's a lot of love waiting for you in your apartment."

She merely stared up at him for a beat, expression visibly pained, and his lips twitched. "How am I in love with you?" He burst out laughing. "No, seriously. How?"

"No idea."

"The cheese is like suffocating."

"Extra sharp, double pasteurized."

"God, I can't even look at you after that line," she said, holding up a hand to block his face, and he caught it and brought it up to his lips to kiss like a prince. "Stoooooop!"

"I'm sorry, I just…" he shook his head slightly, "keep getting lost in your eyes."

"Oh, my God," she groaned, whirling out of his grip with a miserable laugh.

"Come back," he moaned dramatically. "I hate to see you go but love to watch you walk away…"

"I'm nauseous," she said, covering her ears with her hands, and he grabbed the bag of cupcakes from the cashier with a smile and eased a hand against her back.

"Just wait till you see your apartment."

"If you filled my room with heart balloons again, I'm feeding you to Kai."

"You guys ready?" he called out to Damon and Bonnie, and the latter held up a peppy thumbs up.

"Ready Freddy."

"Alright, well hey—successful Valentine's Day tradition," he concluded, and Damon lifted a hand in a sarcastic fist pump. "We're going to take these back to the apartment, but text us if you're still up for brunch tomorrow and we can meet up somewhere."

Damon frowned. "You mean your apartment, right?"

Stefan's brows lifted. "What?" He glanced down at Caroline. "No, I mean Caroline's."

Damon looked at Bonnie. "I thought we had your apartment."

"No, I told you we were staying at your place."

"Nooo, you didn't."

"Yeeees, I did."

"No, because I called you today and specifically asked if your apartment was free tonight and you said yes."

Bonnie's eyes squinted. "Was this during my lunch break?"

"Yeah."

She chewed her lip vaguely. "There's a chance I wasn't paying attention." Both Stefan and Damon shot her indignant looks and she threw a hand up. "Listen, they brought a real life Sorting Hat into Pediatric Oncology today, I was distracted."

"Bonnie," Damon groaned, and Caroline waved an impatient hand.

"Look, what's the big deal? Just take a cab to your place, what's the difference?"

"The difference is that I didn't spend two hours decking my place out," Damon said, and Bonnie's brows shot up, her whole face lighting with surprise.

"You decorated the apartment?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise," Damon drawled, and Bonnie lapsed into a bright laugh.

"Stop it, that's so cute."

"I thought you decorated our apartment," Caroline said, and Stefan's puzzled gaze swung down to hers.

"I did."

"How did you both decorate the apartment?"

"My little mush ball," Bonnie cooed, ignoring the confusion and grabbing Damon by the jaw to wiggle it, and he rolled his eyes.

"Damon, when did you decorate it?"

"Earlier today."

"Remember when I first figured out you were a giant ball of mush?" Bonnie asked, nuzzling her nose against Damon's cheek, and his lips twitched. "You played The Notebook song and tried to pretend you'd never seen it—"

He sighed. "I wasn't pretending—"

"—and you were all 'love is a fantasy, booooo, hiss'."

"Love is a fantasy," he countered, glancing over his shoulder to meet her glittering gaze, and after a second, he chucked a light knuckle under her chin, "but so are you, kid."

"Anyway," Caroline said, waving a hand to clear the saccharine quality out of the air, "how did you both decorate the apartment without noticing it'd already been decorated?"

Damon shrugged. "Maybe I just didn't see Stefan's stuff."

Stefan's brow furrowed. "Pretty hard to miss, dude."

"So it is a mess," Caroline said, and Stefan gave her an earnest look.

"You complete me."

"Stop!"

"I probably just left before you got there," Damon surmised. "My stuff's all in Bonnie's room, you wouldn't have seen it."

Stefan sighed. "That's probably it."

"Okay, regardless of the hows and wheres and blah blah blah," Bonnie said, waving a drunk hand around, "it's late, it's Valentine's Day, our apartment has two rooms, we all have illicit things we want to start doing—"

"Continue doing," Damon corrected, and Bonnie stifled a laugh, struggling to press a finger over his lips.

"Shhhh."

"So let's just split it," Caroline finished, glancing up at a visibly unenthusiastic Stefan. "We both stay at our place."

"Fine by me," Bonnie said, planting playful kisses along Damon's jawline, and he shrugged.

Stefan merely held Caroline's stare for a long, unhappy beat, clearly recalling the disaster that was last year, before sighing in resignation.

"We're going to need some ground rules."

And thus, the brief walk home was spent ironing out the do's and don'ts of not scarring each other for life, including but not limited to:

No leaving the room naked.

Whipped cream doesn't count as clothing.

Common spaces are PDA-free zones.

No loud, elaborate reenactments of any kind.

Bathroom doors have locks for a reason.

No one's allowed to open anything sent over by Kai.

No foghorns.

"And no loudspeakers, either," Caroline demanded as they reached the door to 2B, fumbling briefly with the keys, and Bonnie shot Damon a resigned look.

"This feels targeted."

"Discriminatory."

"Sex rules are a hate crime!"

"Jesus," Stefan said, wincing at the sudden yell, and he shot an exasperated look at Damon. "How much did she have to drink?"

"Literally two glasses of champagne," he said with a smirk, glancing down at her. "Residency's made her such a lightweight."

"Hey," she said, thrusting a finger in his face, "I'm not a lightweight."

"Such a lightweight."

"I can drink you under the table, buddy."

"With milkshakes, sure."

"You're being rude."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Common spaces are PDA-free zones," Caroline reiterated just as Damon pulled Bonnie into him, swinging the door open with a sigh, and her gaze promptly caught on the state of the living room before her.

She blinked.

And then she pressed her lips together.

And then she choked on a laugh.

"I fucking hate you."

She felt a pair of hands slip around her waist, chuckle warm against her temple, and she merely shook her head, laughter shaking her shoulders.

It was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever seen in her life. Streamers. Hearts. Flowers. Banners. Chocolates. Blow-up cupids. Cardboard cut-outs. A friggin' fountain—it was like every cheesy Valentine's Day trope on the planet had blown up in her living room. Even Ms. Cuddles, who'd come slinking out of a fort of heart-shaped pillows with a sleepy meow, had a rose attached to her collar.

"Do you love it?"

"We're breaking up."

"There's a bunch of glitter bombs in the bathroom."

"You're dead to me."

"Oh, hold on." He slipped past her to tug on a ribbon hanging from the ceiling, and a cascade of balloons began floating down to the floor. He shot her a lopsided grin and she dropped her head in her hands.

"I'm so mad I know you."

Meanwhile, Bonnie and Damon noticed exactly none of this, as the latter had the former up against a wall. After a few seconds, he hoisted her up and blindly carried her into the apartment, oblivious to the streamers and the balloons bouncing off them, and by the time he swung her bedroom door shut behind them, she was already halfway out of her dress.

In fact, it wasn't until a full hour later that she even noticed the paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. They were fluttering a few feet above her, dangling from long, silver ribbons, and despite her slowly spreading smile, her brow furrowed. They were lovely and elegant, which was very Damon, but they were also conventional and understated, which was very not Damon.

Which meant she was missing something.

She lifted her head up from his shoulder to look at him, dropping her chin against his chest, and his shadowed blue gaze was already on hers. "Grab one."

Her brows gathered. "What?"

He nodded his head above them, lifting a hand to tuck a curl behind her ear. "One of the hearts."

"Like from the ceiling?"

"Mmm-hmm."

She eyed him playfully for a second before pushing herself up and getting onto her knees, blankets slipping off her naked frame. She reached for the nearest heart and untied it from the ribbon, and her brows lifted as she caught the scrawl of words on the back. Oh, God, was this poetry? She shot him a baffled look and he shrugged.

"Dear Bonnie," she read with a grin as she sat back onto her knees, squinting in the moonlight, "Thank you for being my favoritest doctor. You always make me feel better and read me Cronickles of Narnia when I'm sad…" she trailed off as she realized this was a card from one of her patients. For a second, she'd thought it was Damon being kinky, but she recognized the handwriting and the anecdote. It was Seth.

She read the rest slowly, silently, her smile softening at the misspelled or made-up words, and upon finishing, she lifted a surprised, slightly dazed gaze to Damon.

He was staring at the card with a soft look. "I know the past few weeks have been tough for you, Bon." His stare lifted to meet hers, the names of the flurry of patients she'd lost hanging between them, and she bit her lip, trying to push back the dumb, instinctive lump that wanted to form in her throat. "And I know you don't want to make a big deal out of it, and that it's kind of the nature of the game with Pediatric Oncology, and I know that you just wanted to go nuts and have a fun, escapist Valentine's Day, but I just…" he shook his head, "I know you, kid. And I know how much this is affecting you, and I know you have a tendency to doubt yourself when things go south."

She dropped her stare, lips flickering as she fiddled with the edge of the card—of course he knew. He always knew.

"So, in light of that," he said, reaching up to pluck another heart from the ceiling, "even though Valentine's Day's supposed to be about falling in love or some bullshit," her lips twitched at his dumb old saying, "I figured that you already knew how much I love you, so…" he eased back down onto the bed and held the heart out to her, stare warm, frank, "might as well remind you how much everyone else does."

She glanced down at the card. She already knew from the loopy handwriting it was from Kate. Kate, who she had matching beanies with. Kate, who could quote every Star Wars movie by heart. Kate, who might not make it to eleven but had her whole birthday party planned out anyway.

She glanced up and held his gaze for a long beat, and maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was that she loved him so stupidly, senselessly much, or maybe it was the fact that there were at least a hundred cards hanging from her room, but she felt her eyes starting to warm with tears. "Did you seriously go to Boston Children's to get cards from all of my patients?"

His lips curled at the emotion in her voice. "Just a few. And their parents. And some nurses. And some co-workers." She started shaking her head, heart ballooning in her chest. "A pharmaceutical rep. A few receptionists. There's even a X-ray technician somewhere in there, but not going to lie, he seemed a little too excited to write you a love letter, and while I can relate, I'm not thrilled about—"

She cut him off with a bright, overwhelmed kiss, hands slipping up to cup his cheeks and pull him into her, and he smiled against her lips, hand coasting up her back to thread through her hair.

Stefan, on the other hand, was not having quite as much success drawing the sappy side out of Caroline.

His back hit the door to her room with a sharp thud. "This is what's going to happen," Caroline muttered between kisses, hastily undoing the fly of his pants, "you're going to spend the next hour making me completely forget about the travesty in my living room," she yanked his shirt free and began working on the buttons, "and maybe, if I'm feeling especially forgiving afterwards, I'll consider returning the favor."

"Deal."

He picked her up and carried her into her room, mouth hot on hers, and when they hit the bed, she frowned at the hard surface jutting into her back. She reached behind her for the offending object and made to toss it aside, but right before she did, her gaze caught on the blue leather.

Her brow furrowed—it was a book. A book that looked a lot like her old writing journal, except way newer and with gold-plated lettering on the cover.

She pushed Stefan back a bit and sat up, bringing it up to read the cover. "What the hell is—"

Her voice petered off as her stare slipped over the title, words suspending in the air.

The Girl Who Filled the World With Light
Caroline Forbes

compiled by the boy who loves her

She merely stared at it, silent, the air thrumming around her.

"I spent a long time trying to figure out what I wanted to write to you in your valentine this year," he said after a moment, voice quiet, still a little thick from earlier, "because you know no matter how much you protest, I'm always going to write you one."

Her heart was fluttering a bit in her chest, blood buzzing with kindling emotion.

"And after about sixteen failed attempts at being soulful, I realized it's because a lot of my favorite words have already been written." He reached forward and slipped a hand over her face, thumb tracing over the slope of her cheekbone. "By you. In your poems, and your letters, and your ranting texts about public transportation."

She slowly lifted her gaze up to his, raw, a bit vulnerable. "The green line's evil."

"Page fifteen," he said with a hint of a smile, nodding at the book. "Ode to the Green Line."

"You didn't put that in."

"I did."

Her lips flickered despite themselves. "That isn't even a real poem."

"I love it," he said, shrugging lightly as he continued to thumb her cheek. "I love all of them—the angry ones, the happy ones, the sad ones, the weird ones…"

She lapsed into a slight laugh—she had some weird stuff in there.

"I love all of them because I love all of you, and I just…" he trailed off, shaking his head, "figured this was the best way to show you that. Celebrating your words, your thoughts, all the scattered, weird, lovely parts of you. Putting them in one place. Binding them in leather."

She felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest, filling with warmth. His eyes were bright and earnest on hers, lips curled the slightest bit, thick brows caught in their constant balancing act between serious and ironic.

"So happy Valentine's Day," he concluded after a beat, tucking her hair behind her ear, "to the girl who fills my world with light. Even though she wants to kill me concerningly often."

She merely stared at him, blood buzzing in her veins, affection suffusing her in alarming amounts. And then she slowly began shaking her head.

"What?"

"I'm so angry at you right now."

His brows ticked up. "Why?"

"You have the friggin' nerve," she murmured, "to follow up that disaster of a living room with the most perfect gift ever?"

His face slowly broke into a smile.

"You think I can't see right through that strategy?"

He began pulling her toward him. "I think you should just admit you like the living room."

"I," she planted a swift kiss on his lips, hands slipping around his neck, "am going to light it on fire."

"You love it."

"False," she said, climbing onto his lap, "but I love you."

"Mmm."

"So much."

He smiled against her lips.

"And I love the book."

His hands slipped into her hair.

"So, so much."

She kissed him happily, headily, book still in her hand, and he slowly lowered her back onto the mattress.

All in all, it was a successful Valentine's Day in Apartment 2B. Caroline did, of course, end up getting up at the crack of dawn to clean up the living room, much to a sleeping Stefan's chagrin, and Bonnie did, of course, end up eating the rice balls and whining about feeling sick all morning, much to a sleeping Damon's.

They also managed to break pretty much every rule they set with the exception of using a foghorn, but hey.

There was always next year.

A/N: Siiiigh - I tried really hard to have chapter fifteen of the main story done by Valentine's Day (I think I posted chapter eight last year on Valentine's Day so it would've been fun symmetry), but since I still have a bit to go re: writing, I figured this fluffy one-shot could make up a bit for it. FWIW, this was meant to be like a thousand words and now it's over 4K, so yay, there's little more for you guys to read, but in any case, hope y'all like this detour into saptown ;) It's a little cracky but I think that makes it more fun.