Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries.

Chapter 2: Feeling is First

She could sense their presence behind her. They'd been following her since she'd made that wrong turn onto an abandoned street leading her into what looked like a seedy part of the neighborhood. It's not like she'd purposefully meant for this to happen. She had just left the fifth art gallery she'd visited that day and was surprised to see that the sky had turned dark with night as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. The last of her visits had taken longer than she had anticipated.

She had chosen today to walk the city on foot. Since Katherine had work everyday and Caroline didn't want to use that as an excuse to stay cooped up in the apartment, she'd taken the liberty of exploring Chicago on her own during the past few days. She'd already mastered the basics of the metro system in the days prior, and today she'd reasoned that the only way to truly experience a city's soul was on foot. She had already visited the main tourist attractions earlier in the week and today she had wanted to make her rounds to some of the famous local art galleries. The excursion had hit a slight snag when her only means of communication had failed her. She'd foolishly forgotten to charge her phone last night and it had barely lasted her through the second gallery visit sometime in the late morning.

When she'd walked out of that last gallery, nestled in a quieter part of the city, she noticed only a few stragglers on the street, their brisk paces indicating their desire to finally make it home in this late hour. The street was relatively calm, owing to not only the time but also to the fact of it being a weeknight in an already quiet part of town. Caroline was aware enough of her surroundings to know she was only a few blocks from the apartment and she was almost sure of the way to get home. That is, of course, until she accidentally turned left onto the wrong street and unintentionally invited the tail presence of two night stalkers.

Caroline's heart rate spiked. She made an abrupt stop, dropping to the ground and pretending to tie the shoelaces on her white Chucks. She turned her head ever so slightly to see that the men had paused, too, one of them pretending to throw something in the trash bin and the other feigning a conversation with him. They were purposely standing away from the streetlamp and she couldn't properly make out their figures. Yes, they most definitely were following her.

For a quick second, she contemplated running. She could book it across the street and escape them. No, she thought, there was no way she could outrun them, and by the time they caught up to her she'd be even further deep into this shady neighborhood where no one could hear her screams or, worse, no one would care. Katherine had informed her she'd be out late because of a work dinner she was obliged to attend, so she wouldn't be noticing Caroline's absence for quite some time if Caroline never made it back home. Shit, Caroline inwardly cursed.

Damned if she ran and damned if she stood still any longer, Caroline stood back up, the hairs on her body standing distinctly on end. She squared her shoulders and couldn't help that her hands automatically balled up into fists. She could feel a rush of blood to her face, most likely a result of her fear. She continued walking, though her pace was slightly faster this time. The footsteps behind her picked up a little faster this time, too.

Caroline mentally sifted through a list of all the self-defense moves her mother had made her learn—one of the byproducts of being the sheriff's daughter—until, out of what seemed like nowhere, she spotted her means of survival. He had just turned onto the street and was walking nearly a half a block ahead of her, the darkness once again leaving her unable to make out his figure other than that he was presumably a man and he was carrying a shoulder bag. She saw her chance and she took it.

"Baby! Baby, there you are!" she exclaimed loudly. "I've been waiting forever for you!" she said, waving ahead to the stranger who had now slowed to a stop and turned to observe the commotion behind him. She skipped the few paces ahead to catch up with him. "Darling, I've been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour. I thought we were supposed to meet up at Café Soleil?" she continued loudly, making sure her stalkers could hear, and mentally cringing at the stupid name she just invented. She sidled up to his left, slinking her arm around his waist.

As she leaned in, pretending to kiss his cheek, she whispered softly into his ear, "Play along." Caroline pulled back and signalled to him the reason for this charade by subtly gesturing in the direction of her stalkers with a small tilt of her head. He shifted his gaze discreetly to see the two men walking towards them. His previous look of confusion morphed into one of understanding when he realized her desire to escape the men's potential harm. In a gesture of protectiveness, he wrapped his own arm around her waist. She still couldn't make out his features very well because of the darkness, but his bright blue eyes stood out distinctly—those same eyes that had at once shifted from reflecting his confusion at being manhandled by a strange woman on the street had turned into understanding and now into unconcealed amusement.

Caroline held her breath and at least a half a dozen thoughts ran through her head. Could she have just potentially fled the danger of her two stalkers only to run into the arms of another psycho? Could she outrun all three of them? Were they all working together? How far would her screams carry if they decided to attack her? Shit, shit, shit. How on earth did she get herself into this mess!? She'd been here less than a week and already she was in trouble. Why are you such an idiot, Caroline, she mentally berated herself.

She was pulled out of her internal meltdown as she sensed the presence of the two men come closer to them. The stranger pulled her closer to him, most likely acting on his newfound duty to protect the blonde. They both released the breaths they had been holding as soon as the men passed them by and turned on the nearest corner, leaving them alone on the street.

"Oh, thank God," Caroline sighed, stepping back from the stranger, relieved at the sight of her stalkers turning the corner and disappearing into the night. "God, I'm so sorry, sir," she exclaimed, turning her gaze back on him. He was staring at her intently, the look of amusement that had been gracing his features yet to disappear. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late and it was just so dark and my phone died and all of a sudden I heard them behind me and I panicked and I was sure they would kill me because of course it's the blondes in the horror movies that always die first but then I saw you and I did the first thing I could think of," she rambled nervously, internally cringing yet again for revealing too much to this strange man. She took a deep breath and another small step back. "Really, sir, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for playing along. I appreciate it," she said, a little more composed, now.

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said as he grinned at the delightful girl, his melodious British accent juxtaposing with the roughness of their surroundings. "But, love, do you not think it a tad unwise for a pretty little thing like you to be wandering these unsavory streets of Chicago at such a late hour?"

Caroline observed him for a moment. They had moved a little closer to the light glowing from the streetlamp and she could now make out his features more clearly. He was attractive, that much was obvious, but he was more striking than he was handsome in the traditional sense. He had curly, light brown hair that was peppered with blonde wisps and loosely gelled. He had a closely trimmed beard that outlined his plump lips and, oh, what lips they were. She was taken aback by those lips now forming into a wolfish grin and her gaze immediately snapped back up to his eyes.

"Oh God, you're a serial killer aren't you?" she said shaking her head with slight horror, as if the realization had just dawned on her. There was no way someone as stunning as him could be normal.

He threw his head back and laughed a deep guttural laugh, thoroughly surprised at the statement that had just escaped the girl's lips. She narrowed her eyes at him with unconcealed distrust.

"Stop laughing," Caroline said, slightly offended but more embarrassed than anything. "I don't see what's so funny."

"You practically manhandle me in the middle of an open space, and at a rather indecent time, might I add, and I'm the serial killer in this scenario?" he laughed with mock indignation.

"I'm glad you find such amusement in my distress," she huffed.

"Sorry, love," he continued chuckling, "it's just that I find you hilarious, that's all. It's not everyday one goes from being the hero rescuing the girl from certain death to being accused of murder all in the span of five minutes. Maybe it's you I should be weary of," he pointed his finger at her. "How do I know this isn't just an elaborate ploy to seduce a handsome fellow like myself and then steal all of his money?"

Caroline balked at his suggestion. "To seduce a handsome fellow like yourself?" she mocked at him disbelievingly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Besides, you turning the accusations on me isn't going to make me forget that you never answered my question. You see, you keep talking but I haven't heard a denial yet." Caroline raised her eyebrows in a challenge to him.

"I can assure you that I am most definitely not a serial killer," he said attempting and failing to keep a straight face.

"Yea, I'm sure that's what all the serial killers say before they go in for the kill," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Scout's honor," he promised, holding up his fingers to indicate his sincerity.

"You were never a Boy Scout," she said rolling her eyes. "First of all, even if I hadn't known that you're doing that all wrong," she said, gesturing with her index finger to his incorrect hand sign, "I would know better than to believe that they let shady characters like you into the program." The offense she'd taken to his earlier accusation obviously hadn't worn off yet.

"You wound me, sweetheart," he smirked, placing a hand over his heart. "That truly hurt."

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. She couldn't figure out why this man inspired in her such annoyance. "Anyway, I should be going. Goodbye," she said coldly. She turned away from him and made a move to walk away.

His arm shot out to grab her arm. "Wait! I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to offend. And anyway, you can't walk the rest of the way home by yourself. You just barely escaped a near-death experience and, besides, you said so yourself that you're lost."

"I think I can manage from here," she said curtly, shrugging her arm away from his grip.

"I'm sure you can, love, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you wander back into the cold, dangerous night all by yourself?" he replied with that same wolfish grin. Caroline noticed just then how adorable his dimples were. She immediately rid herself of the ridiculous thought.

"The kind of gentleman who realizes that just because a girl may have utilized his presence on the street to her advantage earlier, it does not, in any way shape or form, mean that she requires or wants from him any further assistance." Her eyes were narrowed and her stance was tall, her gaze boring through the stranger's with all of the confidence and fire characteristic of Caroline Forbes. She mentally praised herself for getting all of that out without stumbling over her words.

Just then, a taxi cab rounded the corner. Where was a stupid cab when I needed one before, thought Caroline bitterly. She hastened closer to the street and waved her hand to flag down the taxi.

"Wait!" the stranger exclaimed. "Are you going to at least tell me your name?" The taxi pulled up in front of them.

Caroline stepped forward and pulled open the door. Turning slightly around, she said to him, "Just call me," she pondered, "just call me 'The Girl who Walks Alone." She flashed him a coy smile that came freely now that she was heading closer to safety. "Goodnight, sir. Thank you, again." With one last look at his expression, she descended into the cab, closing the door shut behind her.

As the cab pulled away, the man stood staring after it in silent wonder. This girl—this crazy, delightful girl—had shown him at least five different faces in the short while in which he'd made her acquaintance. And while under normal circumstances he would stay as far the hell away from any girl who even remotely hinted at having the crazy eyes, he was almost sure this girl was different. She was bright, and strong, and wonderfully hilarious without even meaning to be so. He felt compelled to know her more, and he lamented the lost opportunity. Shaking his head with a smile, his eyes lit up in a way they hadn't for quite some time, he turned on his heel and resumed his previously interrupted journey. He had an inkling that 'The Girl who Walks Alone' wouldn't escape his thoughts for a long while.

"No, Dave," Katherine breathed lethally into her cell phone. She was pacing the street in front of the restaurant in her tall, black pumps. She knew she was late to dinner but there was no way she could go in until she got this mess sorted. "We had a deal, we shook on it, and now you're reneging. If I didn't know any better, I'd say—." She was cut off by the voice on the other end. She stayed quiet as he continued to talk.

"Yea, well," she replied to the voice, "you'd better make damn sure of that or else both our asses are on the line. Get it done, Dave," she barked before ending the call. Glancing down at the time on her phone, she cursed. She was late to dinner and her boss was definitely going to kill her. Katherine shoved her phone into her purse and adjusted her skirt, walking as quickly as she could through the restaurant's entrance.

"There you are!" her boss, Marcel Gerard, addressed her as she approached the table. The guests all stood to greet her. "I just finished telling everyone that you probably just got caught up with a client," he continued. She knew him well enough by now to know he was subtly hinting at her to agree, for any other reason for her tardiness would simply be unacceptable.

"Business never stops, I'm afraid," she responded diplomatically, shrugging her shoulders and giving a small smile. She looked around at the guests who were still standing. It was a small gathering, only three other people besides herself and Marcel, two of which were close business contacts of his. Although they were technically his clients, he had formed a close relationship with the two and regularly kept in contact. The third guest was a man she had never seen before now. He was a handsome man who looked to be in his early thirties and was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that only someone with with considerable means or, at least a desire to impress, could afford. Marcel must be trying to land him as a client, she thought.

"Katherine, you remember Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Devereaux," Marcel gestured to the two familiar faces.

"Of course. It's very nice to see you again, Mr. Thompson. Mrs. Devereaux," she said shaking each of their hands.

Marcel gestured to the third guest. "And this gentleman here is Mr. Elijah Mikaelson of—"

"Mikaelson Corp.," Katherine jumped in, recognition dawning on her features. Elijah and his brother bought prime real estate and flipped them into the most desirable and high-end restaurants and hotels. They had only just begun to expand into ventures outside of hospitality and the brothers' fast success and relentless practices made them a formidable force in their line of business. Elijah was well-known to be the one who managed the business aspect of the company. "Katherine Gilbert. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, her eyes locking with his as they shook hands in greeting.

"Likewise," he said, his brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Elijah and his brother and I go way back, and when I discovered that Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Devereux knew Elijah, I thought dinner was the perfect idea for us all to get together," Marcel said by way of explanation. Katherine nodded and smiled.

"Katherine is one of our best," Marcel continued, boasting to the guests before motioning to them all to take a seat. He looked to Elijah, the only one at the table who didn't know her already. "She's only been with the firm for a few years now but she's already giving everyone a run for their money. Pun intended," he winked. Everyone chuckled.

It was true. Only two years after graduating college, Katherine had begun working with Marcel and the firm as a business agent representing a wide variety of companies in Chicago. She'd taken great strides to prove herself worthy in this male-dominated business, and it didn't take long before her coworkers noticed how many of the largest companies signing with the firm were all her doing.

"Thank you, Marcel," Katherine said with a gracious smile. She might not have much patience for these silly little social calls, but she sure as hell could pretend.

She slid into the empty seat next to him and across from Elijah. Marcel had launched into a topic of conversation and the attention was on him. Katherine inwardly rolled her eyes. Marcel was clearly laying on the charm thickly, and it was no secret that it was all in an attempt to reel Elijah into his grasp. Elijah, though, didn't seem like the type to be so easily won. She diverted her gaze from Marcel to look at Elijah's face and was startled to discover him staring straight at her. His eyes bore through her, and she had the distinct feeling that he was trying his hardest to figure her out with just one look at her face. She turned her eyes away from him and tuned into the conversation.

Katherine attempted to engage in conversation with Marcel and the guests. Thankfully, Marcel did enough of the talking that it was only necessary for her to make small comments here and there or form whatever facial expression appropriate for the particular topic of conversation. It hadn't taken very long into the dinner for Katherine to lose interest in what Marcel was saying. Whatever it was, she'd heard it all before and, even if she hadn't already, then heaven knew she'd hear it all again at another one of these social gatherings. Marcel was never really one for original material.

Every now and then her gaze would flit back to look at Elijah, and every one of those times he'd be looking away from her. Considering how intently he had stared at her at the start of dinner, it wasn't a stretch to conclude that he was avoiding looking at her now on purpose. He was sitting right across from her for heaven's sake. Shouldn't their gazes have met at least once more by now?

She turned to look at Elijah again. His head was slightly turned in the direction of Marcel and Mrs. Devereaux who were engaged in a lighthearted debate. He was wearing a polite smile, though Katherine could tell the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. So she was right in her first assessment, she mused. He really was unimpressed by Marcel's charm. She smiled smugly at the thought. Finally someone could see past Marcel's bleach white teeth and bullshit smile.

Katherine was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Mr. Thompson's voice thanking Marcel for dinner. Marcel bowed slightly and smiled widely. "It was a most lovely evening," he responded. "Thank you to each of you for the wonderful company. I hope it won't be long before we can do this again." Everyone stood and made their way to the restaurant's entrance. Katherine walked alongside Mrs. Devereux, chatting idly about her company's success in the last quarter and her desire to move forward with an expansion.

As they made their way out of the restaurant and onto the busy sidewalk, Katherine bid her farewells to Mrs. Devereux and Mr. Thompson. She turned to say her goodbyes to Marcel and Elijah and found them talking off to the side. One look at Elijah's face and she could tell he was cornered. Marcel was nothing if not relentless.

Not wanting to intrude on their conversation and not wanting to be impolite for not saying goodbye either, she finally decided to walk forward. She came up to Marcel, who had his back turned to her, and touched her hand to his arm. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to wish you both a good night. It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Mikaelson," she said, turning to Elijah. Both men returned her farewell, though Elijah had a conflicted look on his face that she couldn't decipher. With one last nod, Katherine turned around and began to walk in the direction of her apartment.

It was a nice night and the streets around her were busy. This part of town was known to have some of the best restaurants and one could always expect a crowd on any day of the week. That was why she felt comfortable enough to walk home tonight instead of taking a cab. It wasn't a short walk, but she figured that winter was creeping up and it would be a long while before she could enjoy less than freezing temperatures. As for her heels, she had packed a pair of flats in her large tote beforehand just in case.

Her mind wandered to the thought of Caroline and she decided to call and check up on her. She was stopped at the corner of the street waiting for the walk signal to turn.

"Ms. Gilbert."

She was reaching into her purse for her phone when she heard a voice from her left call her name. Her head had been turned in the opposite direction, and she was too distracted by the task of digging for her phone to realize that he had come to stand by her side.

"Mr. Mikaelson," she acknowledged in surprise. It seemed he was waiting at the crosswalk as well. They were still on the same block as the restaurant, which means he must have cut his conversation short with Marcel not long after she left them.

When he didn't say anything further, she turned her head forward again, her mission to find her phone long forgotten. If he wasn't willing to be the one to initiate conversation, then she certainly wasn't going to make it easy for him by being the one to start it. Cars were still zooming past on the street parallel to them and a small crowd had gathered waiting to cross the street.

He spoke again. "It's a rather busy night for a weeknight, wouldn't you say?" Katherine raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Was this his attempt at starting a conversation with her or was he only concerned about the silence between them coming off as disrespectful?

She stayed silent for a few moments. Her hesitance caused him to turn and look at her, thinking that she might not have heard his question. She kept staring straight ahead of her.

"Yes, it is," she eventually replied in an even tone, at first intending to leave it only at that before adding as an afterthought, "It's usually always busy because of all the restaurants." If he was only interested in filling the silence out of courtesy, he would leave it at that. If he was truly interested in having a conversation with her, he'd pick up on the last comment and move forward with it. She was almost sure it was the former, which is why she was surprised to hear him speak up yet again.

"I don't usually come around here often, I'm afraid. It seems that there is a considerable part of Chicago I have yet to discover." It was the inflection of his voice in that last statement that Katherine picked up on the subtle hints of a foreign accent. He hadn't spoken very much until now for her to have picked up on it sooner.

"That's quite a shame considering how close it is to your office," she said, her composure never leaving her.

"You know where my office is?" he asked surprised.

She smirked, turning to look him boldly in the eyes. "I make it my business to know, Mr. Mikaelson." Katherine wore her confidence like a second skin and let it radiate off of her. Just then, the signal turned and the crowd around them lurched forward. She made no move to wait for him as she walked forward to cross the street.

He didn't miss a beat as he walked alongside her on the crosswalk. "Interesting," he said, still keeping the pace. "Then perhaps you will be accompanying Mr. Gerard to our lunch meeting around the corner from my building next week?" His statement sounded more like a hopeful request than a question.

They had reached the other side of the street and both of them turned to face each other. "So then you've already decided to take on Marcel as your agent?" Katherine asked, not even pretending to hide the fact that she'd already guessed the reason for the gathering they'd all just attended.

"No, I haven't," he replied with a faint glimmer in his eye. "I've scheduled a lunch meeting with him so I can let him down gently."

Katherine couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth. Marcel was her boss, and his success meant her success. But there was something so hilarious about this well-bred man standing in front of her sticking it to Marcel in the politest of ways possible. The sight of her laughing made the corners of Elijah's mouth turn up in a small grin.

"So let me get this straight. You just reveal to me your decision to turn down representation by my firm by my boss, and you want me to attend the meeting where you stick it to him?" she asked, still amused.

"Yes," he said, the corners of his mouth still turned upwards.

She let out another chuckle. "May I ask why, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Why I'm turning him down or why I want you there?"

"Both."

"Well," he answered. "For reasons he already knows, I am not quite ready to turn over the representation of my firm into a stranger's hands. I've been acting as my own registered agent since we started the company five years ago and it's worked out just fine. I don't see why I should switch now."

"You forget that someone like Marcel could negotiate far better deals for your sales and acquisitions than you could yourself," she said.

"Debatable," he replied. "And as for your second question, well," he paused, "I really would just like an opportunity to see you again." She felt a fluttering in her stomach. A slight hint of color rose to his face and she smiled at his embarrassment. His discomfort at his own boldness was a satisfying change from the cocky and self-assured men that usually came onto her. She derived a small pleasure from seeing someone as successful as him uncomfortable with the opposite sex.

"Is that so?" she said, softer this time. His eyes looked up into hers again. Her long lashes fanned out above her dark eyes, making it impossible for him to look away. "Well, we'll just see if I can make it then." Elijah nodded and the discomforted look left his eyes.

"Good. I'll see you there, then." Katherine glanced down at his lips and immediately looked back up to meet his eyes.

"Maybe," she reminded him with a smirk. She never made any promises.

"Of course. Goodnight then, Ms. Gilbert." His cheekbones were highlighted by his small smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Mikaelson," she sing-songed with a small smile of her own before they both turned away and walked in their respective directions. What had begun as an uneventful night had turned out to be a rather interesting one.

Caroline quickly climbed all five flights of stairs and let herself into the dark apartment. Katherine must not be home yet, she thought. The adrenaline from earlier events was still pumping through her veins and she couldn't help the amount of thoughts buzzing through her head. She turned on the hallway light and made her way to her bedroom, shedding her jacket as she went. The racing of her heart had slowed down sometime after she'd gotten into the cab but it was still beating faster than usual. It wasn't as if this had been her first real brush with danger, it just the first time she had come this close to something actually happening. She didn't even want to think of what would have happened had the stranger not been there.

Her mind drifted to the man who'd saved her. She was intrigued by him before he'd even opened his mouth, but it had all gone downhill as soon he'd laid her with that smug attitude of his. It was humiliating enough that the situation she'd found herself took the award for the most clichéd damsel-in-distress scenario, but then he had to make fun of her about it, too. She was frustrated even thinking about it, but she couldn't help that there was just something about him that piqued her interest. He hadn't even given it a second thought before he'd wrapped her in his embrace and shielded her from the men following her. For some reason, she had no doubt that he wouldn't have hesitated to jump to her defense had the situation called for it. The thought gave her a small thrill, though the fact that she found his physical protection appealing was so predictable. What did it matter, anyway? No one would ever know about it and she'd never see the strange man again.

AN: Alas the couples meet! This took me longer to write than I expected, but I finally finished it. I wanted their encounters to be realistic, or as realistic as you can make a fanfiction story about Vampire Diaries characters ;) I think I'm pretty satisfied with the way it came out, though. Hopefully all future scenes will be more realistic than cliché. Anyway, love it? Hate it? Drop a review, pretty please!