CHAPTER 1

As golden morning light shone through her window, Elena pulled her hair back from her face, twisting it neatly into a ponytail in one swift motion. She walked across the room, and peered into the mirror, studying her own reflection. She was far from displeased; how could she be when she looked the way she did? She turned heads. That was probably the simplest way of phrasing it. As she wiped away a stray flake of mascara from underneath her chocolate-brown eye, a handsome face with piercing eyes and gleaming hair appeared next to her own reflection. Elena held back a scream, whirled around, and witnessed her hand fly to her throat in a gesture of surprise and protection. She could feel her blood pounding, and when she recognized the man, she scolded herself for being so silly and getting so worked up over nothing.

The figure, who was leaning casually on the wall next to her bed, shrugged away from it, smirking. "Well someone's jumpy," he said cheerfully. He leaped onto her bed, stretching out, and crossed his arms behind his head to support himself.

"Damon, what are you doing here?" Elena crossed her arms and shot him a reproachful look.

"Well if you must know, Elena," he began, putting a slight emphasis on her name, "I came to have a little chat. But I must say your reaction was much more entertaining." He shot her a broad smile, indicating his amusement at her sudden realization of his presence.

She rolled her eyes, and stated, "Well excuse me for being caught off-guard by a menace of a vampire who does not know how to knock. Or come through an actual door. Now what did you need to talk about." She said the last as a statement, really not caring whether or not they discussed what he came to her home to talk about. She was annoyed now, and would rather he just leave.

"Now Elena, if you aren't careful you might just hurt my feelings!" He sat up so that one leg was draping off the bed, the other resting on her comforter, and took in her expression. He had wanted to start things off on a more carefree note, instead of just coming in and telling her what he wished he didn't have to. It seemed to have backfired; she was annoyed, and it took all of his years as a master of his emotions not to openly grin at her. He knew it would just make her even angrier, and the reason for his visit really was vital.

As she waited with raised eyebrows, he took a moment to think through exactly how he wanted to phrase this. He swung his legs off of the bed, stood up, and walked over to Elena so that they were standing more or less face-to-face. He studied her eyes, making sure it was safe to continue.

"Elena…" As he began, he uncrossed her arms gently and took one of her hands into both of his own. Instead of frustrated or annoyed, Elena looked more concerned. Damon was never this caring or serious unless something was legitimately wrong. And if Damon thought it was serious, it probably meant disaster to any normal being. As she came to this conclusion, her doe-like eyes boring into Damon's infinite ones, he continued. "Bonnie is in trouble. She disappeared in the middle of the night, and the only person to have heard from her was Caroline. She received a text that said, "911" and when she tried to call Bonnie, her phone went straight to voicemail. Little Brother thinks she's in some serious shit. I need you to pack a couple of bags; we're going to go find her."

Elena felt her legs going numb, and knowing that she was on the verge of collapsing, moved clumsily across the room and sat on the edge of her bed. Damon stayed where he was, subtly, yet anxiously, watching her. "What are we going to do?" Her voice had hollowness to it, but also an almost indignant air. She wondered why the hell he cared what happened to Bonnie, considering Damon and Bonnie never bothered to hide their blatant dislike of each other, and Damon knew it.

"Stefan is going to stay here, and keep an eye out for her or anything that could lead to her safe return. He's got some contacts, and will be of more use here, to 'direct the investigation' if you will. You and I are going to go to Salem, where most of the witches seem to be congregated right now. She might be there, or they might know where she is or how to find her." He was a blur as he crossed the room, sat on the bed next to her, and looked at her carefully. "Elena. The sooner we get started, the better."

She looked at him carefully, and said, "Alright, I'll start getting ready. But why, Damon. Why are you helping her?" Her eyes took in every movement of the muscles in his face, trying to discern each emotion as it flickered with inhuman speed across his jaw.

The most noticeable emotion was surprise. "Because she's your best friend, Elena. Why would I not help you find her?" He seemed genuinely interested in her answer, and saw her shift uncomfortably.

Elena tucked a stray strand of glossy brown hair behind her ear, and glanced down, almost as if to study her interlaced fingers. "This doesn't have to do…with what Isobel said…does it?" She peeked up at him cautiously, as if afraid of the answer.

If there were any time that Damon's complete suppression of his humanity and emotion came in handy, it was here and now. He wiped his face clean, turned his eyes cold, looked her square in the face, and said, "Now what would make you think that?"

The complete lack of anything that could even resemble emotion on his face alerted Elena to the fact that she had crossed the unspoken line, the one they had drawn to keep things normal, if not to keep them simpler. The little fact of Damon's love for Elena, delivered to her quite unceremoniously from Isobel, still left her confused and uncomfortable. She was embarrassed at having brought it up, and instead of answering his question, stood up and grabbed a couple of travel bags out of her closet. "I should be ready in…" She had turned around to find her window open, the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze. "Of course," she murmured to herself, "don't stick around to hear how long I'll take. Just show up whenever suits you, it isn't like I take about five minutes to pack or anything." Elena sighed, and started shoving clothes into her bags haphazardly, not bothering to consider how wrinkled they might become. Getting to Bonnie was the only thing that mattered right now.