Elena is with Damon now. It's Damon who's kissing and touching and fucking her, but Stefan reckons he can still get under her skin. He knows her, knows what's important to her, knows who's important to her.

Elena comes over that night, running into him as he's on his way out. She turns pale as he gazes at her and she looks away, guilt-stricken.

"Going hunting?" she asks, forcing a smile onto her lips.

"Yeah." Stefan resists the urge to reach out to touch her cheek, but he can still feel the silkiness of her skin against his knuckles. "Making the woods unsafe for Thumper and Bambi."

Elena's face lights up at his apparent joke-maybe this isn't so bad for him after all, her expression says-and his lips curl into the semblance of a smile. She's satisfied, and he feels a sharp shard of rage splintering in his heart. She knew him better than anyone; why can't she see when he's dissembling?

Once outside, he runs into the woods, but then veers off the trail, heading to the road instead. There, he snags a passing motorcyclist and feeds, drinking his fill before carrying the man's body back to his crashed bike and making it look like an accident.

Game on.

-o-O-o-

Jenna opens the door and just grins, stepping aside to let Stefan in. He's over almost every night now, whenever Elena and Jeremy are out. He's become such a rock to her, ever since he lost Elena to Damon, ever since she lost Rick to Isobel, his not-dead wife and now his sire. She doesn't know how she ever would have gotten through it all without Stefan's friendship.

He holds out a bottle of tequila and she snorts.

"I suppose that answers the question of what you'd like to drink."

His gaze automatically falls to her neck and she swallows hard, turning pink under his stare. Fear pricks at her insides, but she pushes it away. What is she thinking? This is Stefan.

"Tequila is perfect."

His eyes return to her face and he smiles as she grabs his arm with a laugh and pulls him into the living room.

-o-O-o-

Later, as she's getting ready for bed, Jenna stands before the mirror, her eyes skittering over the wounds on her stomach and breasts, some old, scabbed over and scarred, some fresh, blood just starting to congeal on the toothmarks. She's not sure why, but she feels anxious as she pulls on her nightgown.

She thinks of her good friend Stefan one last time before she drifts off to sleep and she smiles.