I know, I know! I haven't updated in forever! In fact, it's been exactly three months. :P But I've been having a really hard time finding the inspiration. Now, however, I'm so excited about the season 3 premiere that I can't contain myself.

Also, a huge part of the inspiration is the quote "Elena makes Damon human." I think you'll understand after reading. (:

Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries.

Chapter Two

"I will always choose you."

In the two weeks that Miss Elena Gilbert had moved to Mystic Falls, creatures from every species had taken notice of her. There were rumors going around town that she was a siren, a Valkyrie, or a fallen angel. Who were the mythical creatures of the town that they could discount any possibility?

Damon, however, did not...appreciate their attention on the woman he had chosen to conquer. For once in his vampire existence, he did not lust for blood and then sex. With her, he just wanted the woman, wanted to delve into her mind and find out all those secrets he could see hidden behind her eyes. And he had no intention of fulfilling that need of his through compulsion. No, he actually wanted her to offer the information to him.

As he stepped into the light of the morning—something he didn't usually do, despite his magic ring—he heard her moving around her house, no doubt getting ready for the day. He had already become accustomed to her regular schedule. Get up from bed, brush teeth, take shower, get dressed, go downstairs and have breakfast.

Hearing a sniffing sound to his left, he turned his head to see Tyler Lockwood walking past the house, just as he had every morning for a week. It seemed that Damon wasn't the only one to...well, the right word might be stalk the new female in town. Lifting one side of his lips in a warning snarl, the vampire kept his eyes locked on the Lockwood wolf, making it abundantly clear that he was considering the human his personal property. No one was going to trespass.

The werewolf growled in return, moving just a little bit faster. He was no match for the much older vampire, not until the full moon.

He watched the house carefully from the front step, hoping that, to her, it looked as if he were merely enjoying the fresh air. Even though he tried not to care how she felt about his stalking—again, he could find no word more appropriate—he felt a need to...impress her. As if he were a human teenager again, trying to get the attention of a well-to-do young lady!

No longer did he stumble over his words, his thoughts, as he tried to express them. With their emotions turned off, vampires held only an air of confidence, unable to feel embarrassment unless they chose to. There had never been a woman since he was changed into a vampire that had ever given him that clenching pain in his stomach, that flush of blood to his face as he blushed at something he wished he hadn't said.

No, only this human woman was able to make him feel this way. Perhaps she was an angel, sent to torment a monster.

He sat there on his front step for what felt like hours, just staring up at the sky while watching her house from the corner of his eye, thinking of the sudden change in him. Every day it got harder to turn off his emotions, every day she invaded a little more of his mind.

Elena Gilbert was driving him to madness. And she didn't even realize she was doing it.

Just as he was about to go inside, sure that she would be spending most of the day in the house, she came out of her front door, glancing towards his front stoop as if she expected him to be there. She wore a fitted, long-sleeve shirt, meant to protect her from the strange chill in the early September air, though the dark blue material certainly didn't look thick enough for that. Jeans faded from heavy use rather than having been bought that way clung to her hips and thighs and made her legs look as if they went on forever. She left her long, straight hair down today, he noted, just the way he preferred it.

"Mr. Salvatore," she started as she made her way towards him, every step slightly slower than the last, as if she wasn't sure whether she should go any closer to him.

"Damon," he corrected, an instantaneous, lop-sided grin on his face. He stood, wiping dirt from his jeans, perfectly comfortable with just his black V-neck T-shirt on. "We're neighbors, you know," he chided, barely able to contain the entertainment he got from speaking with her in such a way. Though every time she spoke to him—never more than a long enough to be polite conversation—she would talk to him in the most proper way. And he would correct her. Every time.

Elena stopped in her tracks, eying him for a moment as if to find whatever he might be hiding. "Okay, fine. Damon. Have you been watching my house?"

He idly thought about lying, saying that he didn't pay much attention to her house now that someone had finally moved in. Instead, he decided to just...play with some words, allow her to draw her own conclusions. Shrugging, he answered, "I like to spend my mornings on my front step. The fresh air is good for a person's health." Though I don't necessarily have to worry about health problems.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, as if exasperated. "I know you sit out here every morning." She noticed me all these mornings? "What I am talking about is all hand smudges on the windows of the first floor of my house."

He froze in the midst of his ponderings of why she would notice whether he was in front of his house or not. "What do you mean? There are hand prints all over your windows?" Every instinct screamed that something was wrong. The fact that some creature had gotten so close to her house without him noticing—especially considering his now well-known obsession with her—had the hairs on the back of his neck rising, an eerie feeling passing through him. How had he missed someone creeping around her house?

She, too, stopped all movement before murmuring, "You mean it wasn't you?"

He could hear her heart speed up, noticed the almost imperceptible change in breathing. She was terrified. And that pissed him off. Moving around her, he made his way towards her house, turning and holding up a hand to stop her from following.

The second he reached the side of her house, goosebumps covered his arms, the hair there standing on end. A snarl rose on his lips, just low enough that Elena wouldn't hear it. "Who the hell is here?" he demanded, nearly inaudible. But whatever supernatural being was hiding in the shadows would be able to hear him. They always were.

Damon kept his eyes on the hand prints on the window in front of him, pretending to be investigating them.

A laugh sounded behind him, just beyond the first row of trees of the woods. He knew immediately that it was a masculine chuckle, that whoever was in the shadows wasn't from their town.

"Stay away from the woman," he warned darkly, keeping his eyes glued to the window, though his reflection invariably caught on the spot that the laughter had come from. "She's mine."

More chuckles from the shadows before a murmured, "Don't be so sure," crossed the backyard to meet his ears. Then the presence was gone, leaving behind only the feeling of being watched. And the words the intruder had spoken made him furious.

Turning back to Elena, he strode to her, gently taking hold of her upper arm and bringing her towards his house. "Come in and sit down. I'll call the police." Then, once they get here, I'm going out hunting. Nothing threatens her and gets away with it.

He didn't care that they had just met two weeks before. Nor did it matter to him that she wanted nothing to do with him. All he knew was that she was his and he took care of what was his.

"I don't need a babysitter."
"Yes, you do."

After Damon had brought her a cup of tea, he called the police in the other room, keeping his voice down so she couldn't hear him. Once she'd had the herbal tea, her fear had dissipated and she was sleepy all over again. Even when the officer—who was not in a normal police uniform—showed up, she could barely contain her yawns while she answered his questions. She did notice, however, that he threw a suspecting glare at Damon, who leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed throughout the questioning.

Finally, the officer sighed and stood. "Miss Gilbert, I suggest you call someone to stay with you or stay with someone you're close to. If someone's creeping around outside your house, we don't want you to be alone. There will be officers watching your house, but that isn't foolproof. We can also put you in contact with the best security installers that we know of. I'll leave that with my personal number on a card for you."

Damon moved away from the wall then. "I can just give her the numbers, Alaric. Unless she has someone close by to call, I figured she could just stay here for the night." He stood there like some dark, avenging angel, watching over her.

Alaric threw Damon a look, then heaved another sigh. Making his way to the door, he threw over his shoulder, "It would probably be best if you just stayed with her in her house. This place would be"—he gave Damon another glance—"too easy for someone to break into, don't you think?" With that, he left through the front door, waving over his shoulder at Elena's prone form on the overstuffed chair. He mouthed, "Don't forget my number," then he was gone.

Elena looked up at Damon, smiling drowsily and setting her tea cup on the coffee table. Curling deeper into the chair, she yawned and asked, "What did he mean that your house is easier to break into?"

The way that he blinked at her brought to her attention that he hadn't thought she'd been paying attention that much to what had been said. After a brief pause, he replied coolly, "My house is a lot older than yours. It would be easier for them to break something to get in."

Liar, a voice spoke in her ear, nearly making her jump out of her skin. Like many women, she believed in her feminine intuition, but never had it actually spoken to her. Hiding something. Keeping something from you.

She looked him up and down, trying to figure out what he was keeping from her. She didn't like secrets, especially now that she was hoping she could put her trust in him. If someone was watching her house, who better to rely on than her neighbor? But all those secrets of his, everything he wasn't saying...they drove her crazy. She wasn't going to be able to completely trust him unless he gave up something.

Abruptly wide awake, she moved her feet to the floor, clasping her hands together as her forearms rested on her knees. Leaning as close to him as the chair allowed, she said calmly, "Damon, I know you're hiding something from me." She noted that he stiffened at her words. "I don't know what it is, but until you start giving me some real answers—truthful answers—I don't want you anywhere near me, tonight being the exception. If you feel like opening up, I could see us having a great friendship, since you seem to be the type of person that would be open and frank about most things. If you don't, then after tonight, I'll call my brother, arrange for him to come live with me, and possibly never really speak to you again."

She hadn't been sure until after she said it that it would be a threat. Something flared in his eyes, something possessive and...not human. Like a rabid animal stalking towards her, just waiting for the chance to take a bite.

Maybe she wouldn't be able to have a friendship with him either.

Instead of blowing up at her as Elena had expected, that smirk of his came to his mouth. "Elena, I will tell you all you need to know...in due time. For now, let's just focus on keeping you safe from all the things that go bump in the night."

Funny, from what I hear, he's one of those things. Everyone in town likes to speculate about him.

Knowing that she wasn't going to get much more out of him, she rose and held out her hand. "All right, then. I want those answers in the near future, but until then...thank you, Damon Salvatore, for helping me out with this...situation." He shook her hand, but she released his quickly, feeling a tingle go down her spine. Something wasn't...right about him. "Now," she added to cover up her nervousness, "I have to go get some more groceries and probably a couple of movies for tonight. Oh! And I need to get some books from the library. I will see you closer to dinnertime. Don't eat; I'm making food."

As she moved past him, he caught her arm. When she looked from his hand to his face, he ordered, "Give me five minutes. I'm going with you." Then he disappeared into the house, leaving her waiting in the foyer as a harsh chill blew in through a window she hadn't even thought was open.

"So what's it gonna be? A fight to the death?"
"I'm not going to fight you."
"Why? I'd fight me..."

Damon kept a close eye on her all day long, knowing that the town was talking...and Elena herself was more than a little annoyed. Not that he at all really cared about either counts, but it was unnerving for him to be in the presence of a woman that didn't even want to be around him. In fact, she had seemed less than pleased when he'd assured her that he could—and would—drive her around to all her errands, not to mention walking around just beside her in every one of the establishments they'd visited.

But he wasn't about to risk this girl when there was some rogue vampire running around town. One that had a magical something that kept him from burning in the sunlight. No, this wasn't good mojo and he wasn't about to risk her over it.

Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on his brother coming back to town.

The brothers were well-known—throughout Mystic Falls history—because they had made each other vampires. After both had been forced to accept vampire blood into their systems, they'd killed each other, then Stefan had forced Damon to feed. Ergo, they turned each other into vampires. Not many siblings were turned at the same time, or because of a deep hatred between the two. But the Salvatores were anything but ordinary.

The town also knew well of their battles. While Damon drank from human sources, Stefan preferred animal blood, making him weaker. Animal-drinkers were the equivalent of vegetarians in their culture; they had to have more and eat specific things to be as strong as their "carnivorous" counterparts. Unfortunately, the younger Salvatore didn't follow either of those rules and, though Damon only grew in power, Stefan was left to move forward at a snail's pace.

But their brawls had been known to bring dangerous storms and house-shaking forces into the tiny town.

Damon, however, hadn't gotten any warning that Stefan was returning. No, for once, the other man had taken his time either covering his tracks or not making any disturbances. Not even the witches had realized that he was returning to their tiny corner of the world.

That was another thing that the supernatural branch of the citizens were to be afraid of. The witches knew everything that came in and out of the town, whether you were just passing through or planning to stay. They kept magical wards around the town in case others tried to attack. As you passed through the barrier, no matter what you thought to yourself at that moment, they knew exactly why you were coming in or out of the town.

Mental note: Go to witches' council to find out about rogue vampire and what he is doing here.

As they stepped into the last place on their list—the damned library, for Christ's sake—Damon was hit by his brother's aura. He knew it immediately. He had been raised with his brother, had spent the first hundred or so years of his vampire-dom trying to make the other man's life hell. There was no way in hell that he wouldn't recognize that aura.

"Go find your books. Someone I know is here," he said to Elena, already moving away from her to go to his brother. He'd rather she not see their initial confrontation, since that one was always the worst.

Fortunately, she followed his instructions.

"Brother," he announced, stepping into the small sitting area in the north side of the library. Stefan sat there, flipping through numerous books that were longer and thicker than his head, with print so tiny Damon knew it had to hurt even a vampire's eyes.

Stefan barely glanced up at him. There were dark circles under his eyes, either from weeks without sleep or from his drinking habits. Either way, brotherly worry arose within Damon, quickly leashed by his innate ability to hate his only sibling.

Sitting in the armchair directly across from Stefan, Damon relaxed, relaxing his ankle on his opposite knee. "What, may I ask, are you studying that is so much more important than greeting your brother, whom you haven't seen in damn near a decade?" He was sure that that wasn't annoyance in his tone. No, that anger was because his brother hadn't acknowledged someone that would be able to kill him in the mere blink of an eye.

Stefan didn't look up from his readings as he spoke. "There's something that's been following me around the country, maybe even farther than that. I can't put a name to it." Sighing, he slammed the book he'd been speed reading closed, moving on to the next. After a few moments of silence, he added, "I thought it was a vampire, but it doesn't need any blood at all. Then I thought maybe it was a mix of some other species, like werewolf and witch or something, but there's no evidence to point to that."

Damon blinked in surprise. "You mean, there's something stalking you around the world? And it seems like it might be vampire, but you're positive it's not?"

"It doesn't drink blood, Damon!" Stefan shouted, jumping out of his chair and letting the book fall to the floor. He changed his tone once he started speaking again. "I've been studying whatever this is since it started following me nearly a year ago." He sat back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face in exasperation. "This thing might have even followed me back here. It's the first time I've gotten a real meal and some sleep since this whole thing started."

The older Salvatore leaned forward, glancing around to make sure Elena hadn't wandered towards them. Once he'd decided the coast was clear, he murmured, "When did you get back in town? Is there any way to be sure that this...thing didn't follow you?"

Stefan tossed his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I got back into town last night. The only way we'd know if it followed me would be to go to the witches' council. They might even know what it is because all my studying doesn't mean much."

"Uh, hello? Damon, I'm ready to go."

Both Salvatores jumped at the soft feminine voice coming from where Damon himself had walked into the isolated area. Out of beaten-in habit, they both stood, nearly bowing at her entrance.

It was hard not to, Damon noted. She had the air of an aristocrat, but somehow kept herself from seeming like a damsel in distress. But I'm still going to treat her like one until this...thing is taken care of.

He moved towards her, ready to simply lead her out of the library, but Stefan followed after him, smiling at Elena. Damon was immediately on edge, ready to snarl at his younger brother for getting so close to his woman. But he couldn't do much about it, since Elena was still in the dark about what he was until the city council was finished investigating her and testing her.

"I'm sorry for my brother," Stefan murmured, not seductively but as if he were awestruck. Damon could understand the feeling. "I'm Stefan Salvatore." He held out his hand, softly taking hers and shaking it slowly. The other man noticed quite plainly that he seemed reluctant to let go.

"Elena Gilbert," she replied, with a stunning smile on her face.

He hadn't gotten a smile when they'd first met.

"Well," he said, gently putting his hand on the small of Elena's back, "we'd better get going. I will call you later tonight, little brother." With that, Damon led Elena back through the doors, getting them to the car quickly. If that thing was following Stefan, it might have come here, too. He wasn't about to put Elena in that danger.

Not even to protect his brother.

All right, it took way too long for me to update this. Again, I'm soo sorry. Please forgive me!