AN: This story came to me as I sobbed along to Anne Hathaway's beautiful rendition of "I Dreamed A Dream". I have so much hope for Vincent and Catherine, and I wish them happiness. This is what, as I imagine, would have happened if Catherine wasn't randomly ran into Pathetic Bitch Queen at the end of 1x09.

As a young girl, Catherine dreamed of magic, of princesses in castles, and princes to sweep her off of her feet. She was so hopeful for her future, talking about saving people's lives and being loved. She dreamed of an equally hopeful man, with a warm and open heart with which he would love her. "My little princess," her mother would murmur soothingly to her as she tucked a yawning Catherine in for the night.

As time went on, her kind zeal had woven itself deeper into her heart, and she grew into a loving and accepting young woman. Catherine was strong, possessed by the conviction that she would usher a new era of peace onto the world. She studied hard, applying her tenacity to keep her on track. Pre-law at Princeton was quite an undertaking, but she weathered through the homework and the courses and worked to pay for law studies.

Her dreams shattered the night her mother died. All her hopes crashed down around her like broken glass. Her strength, her future, both were illusions, fallacies instilled upon her mind by her foolish heart. Catherine Chandler changed irrevocably that night. She was no longer her mother's princess, no longer in the mood to save the world. But she was not broken.

The walls she put up had held there for ten years, somewhat cracked in certain places to allow people to squeeze halfway in. Heather. Her father. Tess. Evan. Her walls held to keep people out, but they also locked her in, sealing her inside a tomb made of her own devices. As much as she may try to be free, the young, hopeful Catherine beat upon the locked doors and begged to be let go.

She never expected someone like Vincent to roll around. He was dark, mysterious, and possibly dangerous. His enigmatic persona was impossibly magnetic; even if she wanted to stay away from him, she would never hold out for long. He was… indescribable.

What kind of future would I be able to have with him? Catherine berated herself for the eightieth time, sitting in the front seat of Heather's car, her palms tinged with sweat. We'd never be able to go out together. I can't even introduce him to my goddamn family properly. Her mind was telling her to let Vincent go off into the moonlight and never be seen again, but her heart longed to race after him.

She looked back to the house and spotted Evan in the window nearest. He was smiling amiably to whomever he was conversing with, his handsome face glowing in the soft light. Why can't I want him? He's sweet, cute, and…safe. She realized then that safe was not what she wanted. What, more accurately, who, she wanted was out there running in a tux with a broken heart. She wanted Vincent.

With no more thoughts, judgments, or hesitations, she put the car into drive and sped after him. Her heart pounded at the thought of seeing him, telling him how she felt. Is it love? Nay, not love, not yet. Twas more profound, yet less existential than love; more like a bond, similar to a string of golden thread. She could almost feel that she was getting closer to him, the cold interior of the car warming, her throat constricting.

If she could go back and time and look at what she wished for in a prince as a child, she wouldn't have picked any of her ex-boyfriends, nor Evan, or any other suitor. She would've wanted their first kiss to be like one in the end of cheesy movies, and their days to be filled with endless wonder. A young Catherine would've wished for someone as strong as she, someone willing to prove their love. Someone to rescue her from dastardly villains if the situation arose.

A lone figure darted across the road from the woods in the east in the field in the west. Catherine slammed hard on the brakes, nearly skidding off of the narrow highway. She grabbed her jacket and jumped out of the car to race after Vincent.

"Vincent!" she called after him as he sprinted, "Vincent, wait!" The figure stopped in its tracks, allowing her to lob off her heels and jog to him. The gel in his hair had already worn off, locks of his hair falling haphazardly in his face. His tie was in his pocket and the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt were undone. Walking sex.

"What, Catherine?" Vincent asked, his ragged voice cracking in defeat. "Come to wound me another time? Come to see me evolve into a monster, is that what you're doing?" Catherine recoiled.

"Do you really think that low of me?" She demanded softly, understanding now that she had hurt him earlier. I'm such a yuttz.

"I don't know what to think," he murmured, his head hanging, his breaths puffing into clouds in the frigid night air. "You asked me to come to the wedding, and then you go through every other freaking alternative, even inviting JT for fuck's sake, before I enter into the realm of possibility." All day, I've been looking for excuses for me not to get close to you, she thought earnestly.

Vincent's forlorn look and hard truths only exacerbated the guilt-ridden state of her conscience. "Then, I got to the wedding and we danced." He met her gaze. "And I was happy."

"We both were, Vincent."

"Were we? Because right after you're snapped back to reality, you realized that your fairytale Vincent and I are two separate people. That lab guy lets you know that that freak you took to the party is just that. A freak. You said it yourself: You wish I was just a normal guy."

Catherine interrupted his self-deprecating rant. "I don't want normal, Vincent. I don't want to be a housewife and iron your clothes every morning. I thought I wanted that, but now all I can see is you."

Vincent's eyes softened. "Catherine, don't misunderstand me, I want you so badly sometimes it chokes me. But I can't even entertain the possibility of living a life with you."

She shrunk back, stung, before Vincent realized what he said. "I didn't mean it like that. I just know that I'll never be able to promise you anything."

Catherine grabbed one of his hands to hold between her delicate fingers. "You don't need to make promises you can't keep."

"That's just it: I want to give you the stars and all the love underneath them. It breaks my heart when I know I can't give you anything." His forlorn, listless expression drove a dagger into Catherine's gut.

One of her hands moved to cradle the back of his head and stroked his shaggy hair. "I don't want the stars, Vincent. I don't need mansions or diamonds to make me happy. I want you." She stood on her tip toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

His breathing grew ragged in the cold air after she pulled back. It wasn't a particularly passionate kiss, owing to the fact that it was one sided kiss. But the way their hearts raced against each other, pounding like solid drumbeats in their ribcages, the way fireworks exploded behind their eyes like some cheesy romantic comedy, it was uncanny.

"Fireworks," Catherine murmured.

"Sorry?"

"N-nothing," she paused. "Do you wanna-?"

"Oh god yes," he said, leaning in and kissing her like she never had been kissed before. He sucked the oxygen from her limbs which began to feel as if they were the only things to keep her tethered on earth. He cradled her face with surprisingly gentle hands, so cautious, so heartbreakingly tentative.

It may not have been love quite yet, but it was perfect just then.

And all lived happily ever after.

AN: I know I may get a little comma happy, so sorry about that. Hope Vincent's ex doesn't stop something similar to this from happening. Thanks for reading! xoxoxox