I do not own TVD or TO or The Backup Plan.

The polish was chipped, tiny chunks broken off revealing the non-colour underneath the bright red.

I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this… How embarrassing… Her toes curled down in an attempt to hide from sight.

What's wrong with me? She glared at her feet. If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure.

And a wax.

She shut her eyes tightly as a flush crept up her neck.

I'm pathetic.

Her eyes swivelled around to her other foot. The polish was worse off than on the first, every toe containing several small chips that looked huge to her.

Fuck, she cringed, that one's even worse, and when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone; I'm a fat toed animal.

"Sorry," she released a deep sigh, "I didn't get a pedicure."

"What?" Dr. Maxfield looked up.

She blinked against the bright light of his headlamp and swallowed.

"My toes… sorry."

"I'm not looking at your toes," he chuckled.

Definitely should have gotten that wax, she blushed when he lowered his head between her knees once more.

"Right," her cheeks flamed with her humiliation.

She managed to will away the colour by the time he stood and pulled off his gloves.

"All done."

"That's it?" She propped herself up on her elbows.

Worry flashed in her large brown eyes.

"Well not quite," he smiled, "I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go."

She bit her lip and watched as he set a small timer. For the past three years, ever since turning thirty, the sound of seconds ticking down had made her heart pound wildly. She leaned back on the exam table when he pushed a button to elevate her legs higher and stared at the timer.

"This is the first time I've heard that sound without freaking out," she murmured.

"Good," his voice startled her, "just relax."

"I can't," a line appeared between her brows, "I'm totally freaking out."

He sighed before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. This was a common occurrence in his exam room, so he knew just what to say to calm her down.

"Everything's going to be fine," he smiled, "I have a feeling that you and…" he picked up the empty syringe, "… number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together."

She returned his smile slowly thinking that he might just be right and exhaled when he left her alone.

Four Weeks Ago

"CRM-101404? Are you high?"

She took a sip from her glass of wine and tilted her head waiting for her friend to finish making his point. Josh was many things, and after several years of friendship he was much more direct than he used to be.

"It says here he has red hair and freckles," he opened the file and pointed to the lines in question.

"And glasses," she added calmly.

He gave her a look that said she was completely out of her mind. It was a look she had been on the receiving end of many times in the last few weeks.

"Why are you picking him?"

"Because," she sighed, "he's honest."

"He's ugly," Josh snorted.

"I don't know," Caroline shrugged. "If it just gets it's hair colour from him then she might be alright."

"You know that's not how genetics work," he scoffed.

"Do you think they're all telling the truth?" She rolled her eyes at her friends' antics and pointed to a stack of files on her coffee table, each one held a different donor. "If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup?"

Josh leaned forward and met her eyes.

"You ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles?"

"No," she heaved an exasperated sigh, "and I won't have to."

"What about your kid?" He countered. "No one's going to want to fuck your kid…" his eyes widened when he realized what he said. "That came out wrong."

"Yeah…" she drew out the word and leaned back on the couch, "… it's a good think you're not going to be the father."

Eight Weeks Ago

"What?" Beer sprayed across the table as he spewed the liquid. A small amount splashed over her shirt. It took him a few seconds to catch his breath and stop hacking. "I can't be the father!"

"Come on, Josh," she pleaded. "It's not like we have to have sex."

He swore, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I didn't even think about that. Can we just back up, please? Hit Rewind," he made a desperate motion with his fingers, "rewind, rewind…"

"You're one of my best friends," she took a deep breath and tried again. There were very few good people in her life and he was the only guy. "Don't you want to help me out?"

"Well, yeah, but…" he shook his head. "This is too much. I'll walk your dog, and tell you when you look fat, and I'll always be honest about your eyebrows…"

"Please Josh," she pouted, more than a little drunk on the tequila shots, "it's just a few sperm, hardly a big deal. You waste millions of them every night."

Josh groaned, placing his elbows on the table to lean closer to her.

"You know I run at the slightest sign of intimacy." He pointed to his eyes. "Do you see these bags under my eyes? Hmm…" he waited for her nod, "… Aiden slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I had to fake a seizure."

She closed her eyes and sighed while shaking her head.

"Just forget it," she dropped her head into her hands, "forget the whole thing."

Twelve Weeks Ago

"It's just a phase," Bonnie sipped her coffee. Bags highlighted her dark eyes. "You don't want kids."

"Easy for you to say," she sighed, "you've got four."

"Yeah," Bonnie crossed her arms, "and it's awful." She was overtired, and overworked.

Three children ran through the kitchen yelling and screaming as they passed by their mom and her friend; the kids were followed by a sobbing toddler.

"They've ruined my life," Bonnie sighed.

"Come on…"

"Have you seen my vagina?" Bonnie cocked an eyebrow.

She shook her head surprised by the sudden shift in conversation.

"Do you want to?"

She shook her head again.

"I might have a thing for women at times," she smiled tightly, "but I refuse to cross that line with friends. Plus your husband would kill me…" she leaned forward to whisper in a horrified tone. "They'd never find my body."

"So not what I meant," Bonnie snickered. She motioned down in the general direction of her legs. "I would do that for you: show you. Just to prove to you that you don't want kids, I will show you my vagina."

"I don't want to see your vagina," she shook her head and sighed, "I want a baby… my own baby."

Bonnie leaned over the table and rested her chin in her hands.

"Are you lonely?" She frowned. "You haven't met the right guy…"

"This is so not about a guy," she groaned. "I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want one at this point. They're nothing but trouble, and in my experience cheating bastards."

Bonnie smirked. She could still remember sneaking out in the middle of the night to help her friend burn her ex's favorite leather jacket on his front lawn and spray paint a few choice expletives on that car he was so proud of.

"I've dated a bunch of guys in the last five years," she sighed, "and not one of them was even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait around, Bon?"

"You never know," Bonnie shrugged, "he could be right around the corner."

"Then he's very late," she scoffed, "and I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away?"

She laughed softly before shaking her head and turning serious.

"I want a baby, Bon, and time is running out." She sighed. "Every time I close my eyes I hear that damn clock. I really need it to stop."

"You're only thirty three," Bonnie leaned back.

"I had a test last time I went to the gynecologist," she crossed her arms. "I might be thirty three, but my ovaries are pushing forty."

Her eyes popped open and focused on the timer after the loud ding. She smiled softly.

Moisture gathered in her eyes. She swiped away the happy tears and looked to her legs held high above her head.

"How the fuck am I supposed to get down from this?"

It was most definitely irrational, she recognized that when she passed Dr. Maxfield who chuckled and told her she didn't have to walk like that.

"Right," she straightened up and took normal steps into the waiting room. When he was gone she pressed her thighs back together.

She touched her flat stomach when she stepped into the brightly lit room and saw two pregnant women on either side. Smiling she wondered if she was finally a part of the exclusive baby club that she had longed to join for the past decade.

"Hi," she smiled at the woman in the elevator.

"Hi," the woman returned.

She smiled at the baby in her arms for a long moment.

"You're starting to freak me out a bit," the young mother cleared her throat.

"Sorry," she cast her eyes down. After a moment she snuck another look at the adorable baby.

"Stop that," the woman took a step back.

She grinned brightly when she stepped from the building and spun in the rain that was making several umbrellas turn inside out. The water quickly saturated her hair and clothes but she didn't care.

To the passing New Yorkers with newspapers over their heads she looked completely deranged, but she didn't care.

She twirled happily for a few seconds before realizing that she had spread her legs too far apart. Snapping them back together she grinned at a woman pushing a baby stroller and said hello.

She looked up and down the street for a cab that was nowhere to be found. Resolving herself to a subway ride surrounded by strangers she took tiny steps around the corner.

For a second she froze before running towards the parked car a dozen feet away. It was some sort of miraculous sign, it had to be. How often could you happen upon a cab in New York City.

"Taxi!" She moved as fast as she could with her thighs pressed together and slid into the backseat of the cab. Sighing in relief she sagged against the seat.

"Hallelujah!"

She straightened when the opposite door opened and a man slid inside. Her eyes raked over him quickly. The rain had plastered his dark hair to his forehead and his white t-shirt to his sculpted chest, the dark jeans were even darker where the water had touched them.

"Excuse me," she cleared her throat. Part of her was still not used to the rudeness that followed everyone around in her chosen town. "This is my cab."

"You own it?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"No," she rolled her eyes, "but I'm about to rent it."

"If we're going to get technical," he smirked, you kind of stole it."

"I don't think so," she shook her head.

"If you see someone about to get in a cab," he waved his hand to the street and the subsequent downpour, "you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours."

"I didn't see you," she scoffed.

"I saw you see me," his eyes flickered over her wet dress and back up when he realized it was not a pattern on the fabric, but a dark blue bra underneath.

She sighed and turned to the driver. He completely ignored her question of who had seen him first and turned to his paper. Personally he didn't care how long they argued about it because the meter was running.

"Maybe you're not from around here," the cab thief went on.

She resisted her urge to shudder at the accent in his voice; she'd always been a sucker for accents.

"But you see there is a code." He smirked when she met his eyes. "It's kind of like a war, and even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we…"

"Forget it," she huffed, "I'll get out." She reached for the handle before turning back to fix him with a glare. "It's not because you're right, because you are not, but I am in a terrific mood and you are ruining it."

"No," he reached for his own door, "I'll get out."

She crossed her arms when she stood in the pouring rain and stared at him on the other side of the taxi.

"Now what?"

"I don't know," he cocked an eyebrow and mirrored her stance, "you tell me."

She jumped back when the cab took off down the street.

"Where the hell is he going?" She waved her hands towards the car and resisted the urge display her middle finger. "Come back!"

She sighed after a beat of silence and fixed him with a glare.

"That was stupid," her eyes met his across the distance separating them, where the cab had once stood. "Why'd you get out, you, stupid head?"

"You said you were in a great mood and that I was ruining it. I felt bad." He shrugged one shoulder before narrowing his eyes. "Did you just call me a stupid head?"

She spun on her heel and stormed off taking tiny steps towards the subway.

She swiped her metro card when he did and took her place on the subway platform along with every other New Yorker who couldn't get a cab. Because of the crowd she had to stand incredibly close to him, so when the rain drops dripped from above it hit them both.

"Oh man…" she sighed.

"How's your great mood now?" He cocked an eyebrow.

She struggled to read her paper in the crowd, but she was very much aware of the man behind her. The strong muscles in his back were pressed firmly against hers in the packed subway car.

"How about now?" He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Please stop talking to me," she stared at her paper.

She took tight steps up the stairs a few feet away from him.

"So," he ventured, "why are you in such a good mood anyway?" He watched her from the corner of his eye. There was something about this woman in her white dress, with her large eyes. He found he wanted to know her.

She paused at the top of the stairs and felt the air rush from her lungs. The rain had stopped leaving a layer of wet over the world making it magical. She felt like anything could happen in the next few minutes; at the very least it restored some of her cheer.

"Not that it's any of your business," she turned back around to look at him, "but… good things are happening to me."

His lips lifted in a small smile. There was a beautiful light shining in her eyes and glowing beneath her skin. It was a sentiment that was almost never heard in New York; she was an optimist, and he hadn't met an optimist in a long time.

"That's nice," he nodded. "I hope it continues."

"Thanks," she tilted her head, staring into his eyes. She cleared her throat a few seconds later and stepped back. "Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal anymore cabs."

"You do the same," he nodded.

He might have stolen a glance at her over his shoulder after turning away.

Let me know what you think. Technically I haven't named either main character, but it's definitely Elena. The way I've written it though her love interest could be either Elijah or Kol at this point.

Any guesses to whose jacket she burned?