Snooping Isn't Polite
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter two. I hope you enjoy. Also, I'm pretending that Edgar Allan Poe was one of Damon's many pen names. I don't own Edgar Allan Poe or any of his works. And yes, I know Edgar Allan Poe lived and died before Damon even became a vampire. But this is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! Either deal or go away. The Poe thing is necessary for plot. If you can't handle pretending that in the universe this fic takes place in Edgar Allen Poe is born after Damon becomes a vampire, then leave now. If you don't mind me rewriting history for the sake of the plot, read on.


Chapter 2
Progress

Some time in the evening, Damon wakes up, going from sleeping to wide awake without the in-between stages of various levels of grogginess most people suffer from. It dates back to his human days as a soldier in the civil war and after he became a vampire, he made sure to never lose that combat readiness. As soon as he opens his eyes and sees the sleeping body next to him, he immediately thinks Katherine had come to play more mind games with him. But then he sees the human and humane traits that distinctly separate Katherine from Elena and relaxes.

That's when he remembers coming back from the long drive he had taken to clear his mind only to find Elena's car in the driveway. He knew that she knew damn well that his brother was spending the weekend hunting, so he was curious about her motives for coming over. He realized with regret the only reason she'd seek his company and decided to get it over with. He had thought she'd be waiting for him in the foyer but was surprised to track her unique scent to his room. And, lo and behold, there she was, reading his journal. He could tell instantly that she had already read the most important parts so he decided that he might as well let her finish delving into his private thoughts. But he couldn't resist scaring her by letting her know he's there.

He had intended to stay awake when he lay down next to her, let her purge whatever was in her pretty head, then shoo her on her way so he could try yet again to drink away his problems, though not to the extent that had led to the unfortunate snapping of her brother's neck. But apparently he was more tired than he realized and, like always, her mere presence made him relax, thus making sleep inevitable.

He slowly props himself up to look down at the girl sleeping in his bed. On the many occasions he had fantasized having Elena sleeping in his bed, not once did those fantasies involve either of them wearing clothes. 'But it's still progress,' he thinks. He reaches over her sleeping body to grab his journal off the nightstand and the fountain pen laying next to it, careful not to wake her. He props himself up with his pillows – except for the one Elena's sleeping on – and makes himself comfortable before he begins to add onto the last entry.

Well, what do you know? I get back from the drive, come home, and find Elena in my bed waiting for me. Admittedly, she was wearing clothes and reading this journal. But she's no longer avoiding me like the plague, so it's progress. I am actually embarrassed to admit that I fell asleep while letting her finish reading this journal, considering she had already read so much. When I woke up, I discovered that she had fallen asleep as well, curled against me. Definitely progress. Does this mean that she is at least considering forgiving me for snapping her brother's neck? God, I hope so. This whole avoidance thing is getting annoying. Not to mention depressing.

Well, I've always been completely honest with her, almost brutally honest. Besides, she knows me better than anyone in this world. Even my own brother doesn't know me half as well as she does. Not to mention that I dig out her journal when she's away from her room and read it to learn more about her. I sometimes leave her a little note, which she gets royally pissed about. So I decided it was fair for her to get a peak at my thoughts. I invade her privacy often enough. But since she's shown this sudden penchant for snooping, I better burn the journal I had when I was human. Don't know why I haven't done so before now, considering it contains memories best left forgotten.

What's in those pages are not for anyone to read. If I could burn the memories from my brain, I'd do so in an instant. But this is all besides the point. Coming home to find Elena in my bed, even if she was clothed and reading my journal, was like a dream come true. But she's not mine. Not yet anyways. When she decides to finally face facts and embrace her true self again, I'll be right there waiting with open arms. Her true self is too full of fire for Stefan to even hope to hold onto.

God, I hope this is progress we're making here and I'm not going to get the cold shoulder again. I'd rather she ram a stake through my heart than go through all that again. But now she understands why I snapped like that. Maybe we can move on from this with a little better understanding of one another. I hope that we can at least salvage our friendship. She's pretty much my only friend. Her friends don't like me, no matter that I'm the one who's actually protecting them and not Stefan, whom they seem to adore. Does it matter that his diet makes him too weak to be effective protection? No. That leaves me to do the hard work and him to get the adoration. It's been this way since the day Mother died giving birth to him.

Sometimes I get so damned jealous of Stefan that I literally see red. If I didn't have such a strong will, I'd have killed him long ago, no problem. But I can't do that. He's my little brother and I can't just kill him, no matter how irritating he gets.

Damon pauses in his writing, glancing down at Elena as she snuggles closer to him. "Damon," she breathes in her sleep. Damon's lips curl into a soft smile as he gazes at her with more tenderness than he would ever allow anyone to see. Then he returns to his journal.

Elena even dreams of me, and I don't have to place those dreams there. How can she not see we're so perfect for each other? I've said it before and I'll go on saying it: Elena is my humanity. And I bring out her inner fire. Why is she fighting so hard against the perfection we could be together? When I first saw her, I wanted to make her my Queen of Darkness. Now I just want to make her my queen. She's too human to allow darkness to overtake her and to humane to let me dwell in the shadows. I want her for who she is, for the humanity she brings out in me, for the overwhelming love I feel for her.

When a human becomes a vampire, everything is enhanced to the extreme, that is a fact. Every aspect of their personality, every emotion they feel, every one of the five senses. Vampirism makes you the perfected form of who you are and who you could be. You can no longer deny the parts of you that you don't want anyone to find out about. That's why Stefan doesn't want Elena to become a vampire. He's terrified that when she's been perfected in death, she won't be the girl he watched over the summer and fell in love with over the school year. I wish I could make him see how illogical that is. If he truly loves her, he should want to be with her forever. If he's scared that he won't love her perfected form, then he doesn't love her now, not truly.

Vampirism doesn't change who you are. It just makes you an extreme version of who you are. I consider vampires to be the perfected form of the humans they once were and could have become. Sure, we have this nifty switch to flip our emotions on and off, but that doesn't mean the switch doesn't get flipped back on when we want it off. Hell, look at me! I had my switch firmly in the "off" position but Elena busted her ass flipping it right back on twice and the second time she broke it so that it was stuck in the "on" position. Not very kind of her if she wasn't going to let herself face my humanity.

Now I'm stuck on the vampire version of an emotional rollercoaster with no way to get off the damn thing. But, hey, I was asking for this when I didn't make tracks right after finding out Katherine wasn't in the tomb. Elena draws me in, makes me want to be the good guy, and then turns her head away when I do bring my good side out. But she gets mad as hell when my bad side shows up in retaliation. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. That's the way it is. That's the way it's been since the day Stefan was born and it doesn't look like the Fates are going to deal me a new hand of cards anytime soon. So, for now, I'm screwed. But if the Fates don't start giving me a better hand soon, I'll damn well swipe the deck and pick out the cards for a Royal Flush in hearts. I won't settle for this lot in life much longer. And look at me, talking like this is all a poker game. In a way, it is a poker game. The stakes being who gets the girl in the end. And I'll be damned if I lose. Literally and figuratively.

Damon lifts the pen away from the page and shuts the journal. He gently leans over to put the pen and journal back on the nightstand. He checks the clock, noting that it's just after nine pm. He decides it's time to wake Elena before he gets too tempted to let her spend the night in his bed. He knows giving in to that temptation will not be a smart move at this point in trying to earn her friendship back. He gently shakes Elena's shoulder.

"Elena, time to wake up," he says. She grumbles in her sleep and buries her face his side. He chuckles. "C'mon, wake up, Sleeping Beauty. As big as the temptation to let you spend the night here is, I know damn well that you'll be pissed as hell that I let you spend it in my bed. Now get up."

"G' 'way," she grumbles, swatting her hand in his general direction.

"Ah, ah, ah. This is my bed, Miss Gilbert. I'm not going to vacate it just so you can continue to sleep," he tells her, catching her hand. "You know, St. Stefan will get all the wrong thoughts about what's going on if he showed up right now." Nothing. Damon raises an eyebrow at the lack of response that taunt had drawn, when he was so sure that it would wake her up. "You know, I didn't want to do this," he says, maneuvering himself into prime tickling position. "Okay, maybe I did. But, still, you asked for it."

He proceeds to lightly trail his fingers down Elena's ribcage through her shirt. He knows her every tickling spot and what needs to be done at each for most effect. Elena squirms, squeezing her eyes shut. "Stop," she groans sleepily.

"Are you going to wake up and tell me what brought you here today?" he asks, pausing.

"Not now," she mutters.

"Not good enough," Damon says decisively, trailing his fingers lightly up and down Elena's ribcage.

Elena continues to squirm, trying to get away from the tickling. When Damon's hands leave her sides, she thinks maybe he gave up. But when he slides her shoes off, she remembers that this is Damon. Damon doesn't give up, ever. Then the tickling begins in earnest. Elena is trying to catch her breath around her laughter. "Okay! I give! I'm awake!" she cries out amid chuckles.

Damon promptly reclines on the bed next to her with a Cheshire grin. "Are you going to tell me what you came over for or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?" he asks.

"I came to get answers," Elena gasps, her sides heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

"Oh?" Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elena swats him in annoyance. "Your journal gave me the answers I wanted but now I have more questions," she says breathlessly.

"By all means, ask away," Damon says, motioning for her to continue. "You got a look inside my head and want to know more. I assure you, not everyone is lucky enough to find me so accommodating," he says with just enough acid to remind her that she's dealing with a vampire when she is around Damon, not just the human he resembles. With Damon, it was always best to remember that he actually accepts his vampire side much more easily than he accepts his humanity.

Elena sighs, raking a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Damon. Reading your journal like that was wrong of me," she says sincerely.

Damon nods. "Since it's you," he says finally, his tone considerably lighter, "I'll answer any question you have. Just don't go telling anyone."

"Damon, you know you can trust me," Elena says earnestly. Damon raises an eyebrow. She sighs, remembering all that's gone on between them these past few weeks. Of course he won't just trust her after all that. She's not sure why she still trusts him as much as she does. "I won't tell anyone what you confide in me," she vows.

Damon relaxes marginally. "So, you come here for questions, read my journal and got your answers, but also got more questions," he says. "Ask away."

"Were you really going to kill yourself if Jeremy hadn't been wearing the ring?" she asks softly.

Damon's silent for a while, thinking about how best to answer that. "I've always given you the truth, Elena," he says finally. "If Jeremy hadn't been wearing the ring, I'd probably have found the highest point in town and taken my ring off right there as the sun rose. I was that torn up about losing control like that."

Elena closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath. "I'm glad Jeremy was wearing his ring for more reasons than one now," she whispers.

"I knew you'd be torn up if I died. You've done your damnedest to keep me alive, even when you didn't even like me. You risked your life to save mine. But I also knew that if Jeremy hadn't been wearing that ring, you would never have been able to forgive me. And not being able to at least be your friend is the one thing that's scarier than death." Damon watches Elena silently for a moment. "On that note, I have a question for you," he says.

Elena frowns. "I thought I was the one asking questions," she says in confusion.

"I only let you continue reading that journal because I've read yours so many times. I'm not going to let you continue delving into my mind unless I get to do a little digging into yours," he retorts.

Elena searches his eyes and finds that he's completely serious about this. "Fair's fair," she sighs. "What's your question?"

"Had Jeremy not been wearing that ring and I subsequently met sunrise without my ring, whose death would have hurt more?" he asks. He watches Elena's eyes widen, begging him not to press the subject. "I've been completely honest with you, Elena. More so than I've been with anyone in my life. I think I deserve a little honesty in return," he says firmly, not backing down.

Elena sighs and closes her eyes. "Jeremy's my little brother. Watching him die like that was like losing my parents all over again and then some," she says, then hesitates.

"I'm sensing a 'but'," Damon prods.

Elena grits her teeth because Damon won't let well enough alone. She realizes yet again that he has never lied to her before. He may have withheld information from her but he never flat-out lied to her face. It's about time she give him the same in return. "But I would have recovered from his death, eventually," she concedes.

"And if I died?" Damon presses, determined to get her to admit that she feels something for him, even if she doesn't come right out and confess undying love.

"If you died, I wouldn't want to recover from it," she fesses up. "Not that I ever would."

"What does that mean?" Damon asks.

"I answered your question, Damon," she says. "My turn. Where did you go today?"

"I'm pretty sure that you finished reading what I had wrote this morning," he points out. She narrows her eyes at him. "I literally just went for a drive, Elena. That was it. I drove until the Camaro was nearly out of gas. Then I filled up and came back. I needed to get away, as much so as I could given the tendency you have for finding trouble without even trying. I had a lot of thoughts I needed to sort through and I happen to do that best when driving." He takes a moment to think about his next question. "Why were you snooping in my journal? Given the way you get so pissed when you find my messages in yours, I'd have thought you held yourself above that."

Elena blushes. "I was overcome with curiosity about what you would have written in it. And I decided that since you read mine on a regular basis, it was only fair that I take a peek," she admits. "But then I just couldn't stop."

Damon rolls his eyes. "You should see some of Stefan's journals. He could publish them as actual novels. Of course, they'd be in the adult graphic horror genre, but still."

"Like yours are any better," Elena shoots back.

Damon reaches over Elena's body, his chest pressing against hers a little longer than she felt comfortable. He picks up the journal from the nightstand. "Elena, this is the first journal I've kept since I was human," he tells her seriously. "I haven't felt the need to keep one until the night you put your trust in me by taking off your necklace and saying I could compel the truth from you. Stefan's the journal keeper. Me? I did some writing over the years, but nothing this personal."

"You write?" Elena asks, surprised.

"I'm counting that as a question," he says and she smacks him. "Ow! Seriously, what part of 'enhanced senses' do you not understand?" he says, rubbing his arm. "Anyways, to answer your question, I've got a few works published under various pen names." He raises an eyebrow. "Edgar Allen Poe is one of my more famous guises."

"You're Poe?" Elena asks, unable to stop the pleased grin from spreading across her face.

"And Stefan never fails to remind me of it every damn time he sees a raven. That's one of my few poems that he actually likes. He's the one who insisted I publish it," Damon admits. "He's got one of the books of poetry I published under Poe stashed somewhere in his room, that damned poem tagged."

"So Lenore was Katherine?" Elena asks softly.

"Actually, no," Damon confesses. "Lenore was the girl I envisioned myself spending eternity with. She wasn't real, but she held all the qualities I wanted in a soulmate." Damon's quiet for several moments and Elena realizes that he's about to make her uncomfortable. "You, Elena, hold every damn quality I imagined in Lenore and many that I couldn't even dream of ever finding in someone walking this planet." He meets her eyes. "You just asked three questions, Elena. So I get three questions." Elena sighs. "What made you decide to end the silent treatment you were giving me long enough to come confront me with the questions you had?" he asks.

"Jeremy," Elena sighs. Damon raises an eyebrow and she scowls at him for not giving her a second question. "Jeremy confronted me this morning about holding a grudge against you for snapping his neck. He said that if he could forgive you for killing him, then I couldn't reasonably hold a grudge against you. He pointed out that it was his neck that was snapped, not mine. It was his life that could have been ended that night, not mine. I told him every reason I had and he used logic to cut them to ribbons. Eventually, he convinced me to at least confront you about what happened that night. He pointed out that something had to have driven you to such extremes. He pointed out the only thing that could get to you so badly that would cause you to get drunk and come to me was if Katherine had done something. He said that he had been sorely tempted to stake you for killing him but the realization that Katherine was behind your actions changed his mind. That's when I gave up. He was making too much sense and I couldn't think of anything to refute it."

Damon looks away when Elena tries to search his eyes. "So, now that you know who was behind the situation and what had caused things to get so out-of-control, what are you going to do about it?" Damon asks.

"Well there's what I want to do and what I'm stuck doing," she admits. "What I want to do is track her down and make her pay for every lick of pain she put you through. But I know that's not feasible. I'm human, she's a centuries old vampire that could kill me as soon as look at me. So what I'm stuck doing is mopping up her mess and busting my ass to make sure you don't lose control like that again."

"I notice that you didn't stick Stefan in there when you said you wanted to make her pay for the pain she put me through," Damon replies.

"That's not a question," Elena growls.

"Just stating a fact, Elena," he retorts with a grin.

"You still have to ask your third question," Elena gripes.

"Working on figuring out what I want to ask," Damon replies. Elena's stomach growls and Damon's smirk grows. "C'mon, I'll cook you something," he says, hopping the bed.

"You have food here?" Elena asks, startled. She gets off the bed and follows him out of the room.

"Ah, ah, ah. That's a question," Damon teases as they make their way downstairs.

"Damon!" Elena snaps.

"Elena," he replies with a grin as he leads her into the kitchen. "Have a seat at the island," he says, heading for the fridge. He opens the doors and contemplates his options before settling on a Mexican-style stir-fry. He grabs his ingredients and closes the fridge door. He sets them out on the counter before picking out a frying pan from the selection hanging over the stove. "I decided to make my next question simple: what do you want with your stir-fry?" he asks. He pulls a long knife out of the knife block and begins slicing the vegetables.

"Stir-fry? I thought you were Italian!" Elena exclaims.

"I am. But it gets a little boring cooking just Italian dishes when I'm in the mood to cook," he replies. "I figured if my eternal hobby is going to be cooking, then I might as well learn all the styles and recipes I could get my hands on. Now, answer the question, Elena."

"Surprise me," Elena challenges.

"Oh-ho, be prepared to be surprised, Miss Gilbert," he says, giving her a cocky grin. Elena watches in fascination as Damon proceeds to cook her a fabulous dinner. Damon makes a Greek salad to go along with the stir-fry. "Desert will be a surprise," he says, winking at her. "But I know you'll love it."

"Greece and Mexico in one meal? I'm already surprised," Elena admits.

"When it works well together, there's no harm having dishes from different backgrounds in one meal," Damon says, placing the salad on the counter. He then returns to the stir-fry, which is simmering. He carefully tosses it a few more times before pouring it onto a waiting plate. He turns the stove off and carries the plate to the counter. He sets the stir-fry next to the salad then fetches a couple of plates, a couple of forks, and a couple of glasses. He sets a place for each of them.

He grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge and fills Elena's glass with it. He returns the pitcher to the fridge and grabs a blood bag, tossing it in the microwave. Once it's warmed up, he rips the valve off and pours the blood in his glass. He disposes of the empty bag and then proceeds to dish out a serving of salad and stir-fry for each of them. Finally he takes his seat. "Bon appetite," he says, smirking at Elena.

Elena watches as he takes a sip of his blood before she turns to her food. She finds it strange that she's not at all disgusted at sharing a meal with him while he's drinking blood from his glass as opposed to the sweet tea he gave her. She scoops up a mouthful of stir-fry and moans in delight at the taste, all thoughts about eating a meal with a vampire replaced by the sheer joy at the flavors in her mouth. "This is really good," Elena says after she's swallowed her mouthful. She takes a sip of her tea.

"Glad to know my skills in the kitchen have pleased you," he says, ice blue eyes twinkling with merriment.

"A writer and a cook. Consider me impressed, Damon," Elena chuckles.

Suddenly, a buzz comes from Damon's back pocket, signaling he just got a text. Damon sighs but digs out his phone. He glances at the screen and frowns. He sets his fork down and replies to the text. After a few more back and forth texts, Damon puts his phone back in his pocket. "You're going to get a call from your boyfriend right about… now," he says.

Right on cue, Elena's phone lets out the ringtone she set for Stefan. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, raising a questioning eyebrow at Damon. He just motions for her to answer it before taking a sip of his blood. Elena frowns and answers the phone. "Stefan? Is everything okay?" she asks.

"Elena, I'm so sorry about this, but something came up with a business I have in England that I need to take care of personally," Stefan says apologetically.

"You have a company in England?" Elena asks, surprised.

"Yes," Stefan says without elaborating. "Anyways, as much as I hate to, I've asked Damon to keep an eye on things while I'm gone. I'm already on my way to the airport. I'll call when I can and I'll be back as soon as possible. I love you."

"I love you, too," Elena says softly, though it's become more of an automatic response than one with any actual feeling. But the dial tone was already sounding before she got even the first syllable out. She sighs and hangs up. "You were texting Stefan?" she asks Damon, putting her phone back in her pocket.

"He texted me, told me in explicit detail what he would do to me if I let anything happen to you or this town while he was gone, told me what's up in England, and then said he's going to call and tell you himself," Damon says, sipping at his blood.

"I didn't know he had a business in England," Elena says, frowning.

"Every vampire winds up owning at least one big name corporation in this world by the end of their third decade. I have several," Damon says with a shrug. "It's how we expand our wealth. Even for vampires, money is a powerful bargaining chip. There are just some situations where you can't use compulsion for something. That's where money comes in. Stefan has a printing company in England and another one here in America. He published a number of my books and poems. The company in England has an annoying tendency to run into problems if he doesn't put in an appearance at least once a year. It's been three years since he was last over there, so it was a little overdue."

"You keep track of his whereabouts?" Elena asks before taking a bite of her salad.

"He's my little brother. As much as he makes me want to kill him at times, I still need to look out for him. I keep tabs on his exact whereabouts so that if trouble stirs up in his location, I can get there in time to bail his ass out of it," he says. "He knows damn well that if he doesn't check in with me before disappearing from a location, I'll hunt his ass down and beat him up for making me worry. That's why he checked in with me first before letting you know that he's going to be gone a lot longer than this weekend. He knows that if he had checked in with you first, I wouldn't have been very happy when he got back." Elena nods in understanding. They eat in silence for a bit. "So, I'm going to make those two questions you asked freebies since they were about my brother. Which means it's still your turn to ask a question," Damon says as they finish up their meal. He busies himself with finding containers for the leftovers and transferring them over.

"Actually, one of them involved you as well," Elena corrects. "So it's your turn again."

Damon smirks. "I was wondering if you were going to point that out," he admits, putting the leftovers in the fridge and pulling out a bowl with a dish that Elena does not recognize. Damon catches her curious look and rolls his eyes. "Something tells me you've never had tiramisu before," he chuckles, carrying the dish over to the counter.

Elena frowns. "Isn't that a lovers' dish?" she asks as he gently sets the bowl down. He quickly grabs two bowls and two spoons for them, setting one of each in front of Elena and the others in front of his own seat. Then he vamps around, putting the rest of the dishes in the sink to wash later.

"That's a question. But I'll answer it. Tiramisu can be a lovers' dish, yes. But it's also a classic Italian desert. This is my mother's special recipe. I'm the only one walking this Earth who knows it now. You better be damned grateful that I'm willing to share it with you. Last time Stefan tried to steal a taste, I broke his wrist. My mother taught me how to make it while she was pregnant with Stefan. I was the last one to share this dish with her before she died giving birth to my brother. I've never let anyone else have a taste of it until now, not even Stefan," Damon says. He serves each of them a generous helping before returning the bowl to the fridge. Elena pokes the confection in her bowl, wondering about the red streaks going through it. "Relax, Elena. I didn't put blood in it. Mother would never forgive me for such disgraceful manners. If you're wondering about the red, it's homemade strawberry syrup. Mother's favorite food was strawberries and she added the flavor wherever she could when cooking. She's the one who gave me a passion for cooking that lasts to this day. Her secret dream was to be a world famous chef, but that particular career path was reserved strictly for men in those days for all that cooking was women's work in the home. She made do with what she could get away with. And Father let her get away with a whole lot more than most men let their wives get away with in those days. He was never the same after she died."

Elena scoops up a spoonful of tiramisu and puts it on her mouth. Her eyes widen in wonder at the richness of dish. "This is really good," she compliments once she clears her mouth. Then she eats a second spoonful.

"My mother would be ecstatic to know she has another fan of one of her recipes." Damon says, his thoughts elsewhere as he eats his bowl of tiramisu. It's only when they're cleaning up the dishes together that Damon pulls himself back together. "Anyways, I get two questions since I let you get away with a second one," he reminds Elena. He takes the dish she's passing him and rinses it before putting it in the dish rack "My first question is what is with that teddy of yours? Don't get me wrong, I think it's cute, but I've been meaning to ask about it."

"My Mother took me to a Build-A-Bear Workshop shortly after I turned five," Elena says, continuing to wash the dirty dishes and pass the cleaned ones to Damon. "She told me that a teddy bear is a little girl's guardian angel and it was about time I got one for myself, considering all the mischief I got into even then. I saw all these kids making these really elaborate teddy bears and it frightened me. I wanted mine to be simple and huggable. I knew that the first teddy bear I ever got had to be special, too. As I carefully picked out the fur, the stuffing, and everything that goes into making a teddy bear, Mom explained further about the story of the teddy bear. She told me that while the teddy bear was the little girl's guardian angel, he also stood watch over her through the years and caught her tears when she was sad. He was her best friend, knowing everything that ever happened to the girl, even what she didn't want to put in her journal." She smiles slightly as she passes the last dish, a cup, to Damon. "Mom also said that when the right man walks into the girl's life, the teddy bear wouldn't let the girl let him walk away again. When the lady who put my teddy bear together asked me what I would call him, I decided to simply call him Teddy. The lady stitched Teddy's name in fine print just inside his left ear and my name just inside his right. She said that way if Teddy ever got lost, he would find his way back to me again."

"Fascinating," Damon says, carefully rinsing the cup before stacking it next to the rest of the clean dishes.

"Stefan doesn't like Teddy," Elena admits sadly. "And I don't think Teddy likes him very much either."

"Well, I like Teddy," Damon says candidly. "I wouldn't hold onto him when I'm in your room if I didn't."

Elena hides a smile. "I think Teddy much prefers you over anyone else I know," she says, her eyes twinkling. "You don't ignore him like everyone else who enters my room."

They make their way back upstairs to his room, neither of them even thinking of continuing their conversation in the foyer. "You should check in with Jenna," he remarks as he sets to building a roaring fire in his fireplace while she sits on his bed, watching him.

"I'll call Jeremy. He'd be able to keep her calm over the fact that I'm spending unsupervised time in your company," Elena says, pulling out her cell phone. "She's still not letting go of the porch scene she still thinks I was a part of."

Damon rolls his eyes as he grabs the matchbox off the mantle. "I could easily make it so that she doesn't remember that scene ever happened," he remarks, pulling out a match. "Wish someone could do the same for me." He lights the match and tosses it onto the carefully arranged firewood. He makes sure the fire takes to the logs before making his way over to sit next to her.

"As tempting as that offer is, I'd rather not have any more compulsions placed on my family," Elena sighs, searching through her list of contacts for her brother's name. Upon finding it, she hits send and puts the phone to her ear.

It takes two rings for Jeremy to answer. "Hey, Lena. Did you take my advice?" he greets.

"I did. Listen, I'm at the boarding house hanging out with Damon. Considering the time, I'm probably going to spend the night," she says.

"And where will you be spending the night?" Damon teases.

Elena smacks him before going back to her conversation with her brother. "So could you tell Jenna as gently as possible that my friendship with Damon is on the mend and I'm going to be hanging out with him tonight and won't be back until sometime tomorrow?" she asks.

"You're actually in luck, because Jenna is going to be spending the night at Rick's," Jeremy says smugly. "She said she might be up to leaving us home alone for the whole weekend but we better not screw this up or she will never let us out of her sight again except for school."

Elena smiles. "Well, then, I just have to make it home before she does and she won't know the difference," she says. "Okay, thanks for filling me in, Jer."

"Tell Damon I said hey."

With that, the dial tone lets Elena know that her brother had hung up. "Well, when did you get an invitation to spend the night?" Damon asks, scooting up in the bed to prop himself up against the headboard with his arms behind his head.

"I don't hear anyone saying I can't stay the night," Elena retorts, repositioning herself so that she's laying on her stomach next to him with her head propped in her hands. "And you just asked two questions when you only had one more. So I get two."

"Dammit," Damon curses.

Elena chuckles. "My first question is what all genres did you write?" Elena asks.

Damon rolls his eyes. "Mostly adult books of various genres. Nothing for the faint of heart, I assure you," he says. "Though I did write a few adult romances." Elena chokes back a laugh. He glares at her. "Just a few. They were more along the lines of dark romance with a more sinister plotline than the average romantic would enjoy."

Elena just shakes her head at the thought of Damon Salvatore writing any form of romance novel. "My second question is more of a request," Elena says when she gets herself together.

"Okay, then, make your request," Damon says.

"I want you to tell me about Poe. I want to know how you came up with him and that style of writing," Elena says.

"Poe, huh? You better get a little more comfortable for this one," Damon replies.

Elena sighs but maneuvers so that she's laying on her side facing him, her head propped in her hand. "Okay, you can begin," she says.


Sarah: and the explanation of Damon and Poe will take place next chapter. I hope you enjoyed. Please review and tell me if I kept Damon true to form. I'll get to work on the third chapter now.