A/N- Hi! Thanks so much for the reviews on this, I was glad to see people were interested in it :)

I'm in the process of starting the next chapter of How to Save a Life; I estimate it has 2-3 chapters left including a prologue. Its my summer (though you wouldn't know it cuz its freezing) so I have a bit more spare time on my hands so hopefully I'll be able to get down to some writing.

Thanks to my beta and much love as always! xxx

Elena smoothed down the fabric of her tight grey pencil skirt across her knees, as she regarded the man in front her who was perusing her resume closely. He had a handsome face and a haircut that suggested that he had a wife or girlfriend at home who liked her man to look well groomed. A thin layer of stubble was scattered across his chin and jaw, giving him a youthful look that had Elena struggling to place his age. Every now and again his brow would crinkle as he would frown at something he read. To his left was the letter of recommendation that would have been requested from her previous employer. She somewhat regretted her haughty exit from Elijah's office as soon as she saw his letterhead sitting on Mr Saltzman's desk.

However, he had said little about Elijah's words; in fact he had said little about anything. He had simply read her resume, which she had presumed he would have already have done, and made quiet noises of displeasure to go along with his frowning.

Finally, after sitting in nervous silence for fifteen minutes he placed the various pieces of paper to one side and linked the fingers of each hand together, placing them in front of them.

"Now then," he said, sighing as if this whole thing was a huge waste of his time, which it probably was. "Elijah Mikaelson seems to highly recommend you, he even goes as far to say that he wishes you'd never left, which is funny considering word on the grapevine is that he bumped you in favour of that witch, Katherine Pierce." he scoffed. Although what he said should have sounded upsetting to Elena, the way in which he said it was blunt but warm at the same time and she found herself relaxing and even rolling her eyes slightly.

"However," he said, immediately causing her to tense up again, "no matter how wronged you were by Elijah, it doesn't change the fact that you have little to no experience of being an executive producer. You don't have an MBA, you went to community college, and you're so young that if I hired you my entire staff would probably think I was sleeping with you."

Elena coughed loudly in shock and paled. "Mr Saltzman, with all due-"

"Please, call me Alaric." he interrupted her, raising a hand.

"A-Alaric, with all due respect, sir, regardless of what it says on my resume I have spent the last three months working as an executive producer. I-I work hard, I'm dedicated, motivated...I don't really have a social life so you wouldn't have to worry about that getting in the way and I swear..." He raised his hand again as she began to ramble and she shook a piece of her that fallen in front of her face out of her eyes, frantically combing it away.

"That's a charming speech, Miss Gilbert, but it doesn't change anything. I've had forty applicants for this job and you're the only one who didn't go to Columbia or Yale or any other Ivy League. You're also the youngest and the only one without official experience of being an executive producer. Your resume is impressive, Miss Gilbert, but you're just not there yet." She nodded solemnly, once again smoothing her skirt out and pushing herself to her feet.

"I understand." she said, raising her hand to shake his, "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Saltzman. Have a nice day." She turned around to walk from his office, closing her eyes as tears began to prick behind them.

"Miss Gilbert!" he shouted, making her turn around. He ran an exasperated hand across his forehead and sighed heavily. "Why do you want to work here anyway?" he asked, his voice full of confusion.

"I...Mystic Falls is my home." she said, shrugging as she didn't have any other answer.

"Forgive me for prying, but I recognized your name when I saw it...I covered your story in my first year here. Why would you want to stay here? Surely there's nothing for you. A bright girl like you could get an assistant producer job on any number of shows in New York or anywhere for that matter." His eyes were filled with kindness and she once again blinked away tears.

"Like I said," she replied, "it's home." She smiled softly and turned again to leave.

"Elena!" His voice called her back once again. "When could you start?" he asked, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"What?" she asked incredulously, "But you said..."

"I know what I said, but you're also the only person to come in here today who I haven't wanted to punch in the face and that's worth a lot more to me than some ivy league education."

She grinned in response and accepted his offer to take the seat opposite him as he pulled a contract out of his top drawer.

The pay wasn't much better than her previous job and she knew that the hours would be longer and the stress levels higher, but somehow Elena felt that she had made it. She was an actual executive producer to a very real breakfast show.

She let herself back into her flat to find Caroline sprawled out on the couch under the duvets, a mug of tea clutched in her hands and the latest reality TV travesty on the screen.

The blonde immediately spun around, sloshing tea all over herself and yelping, although this did nothing to wipe the grin off her face as she regarded her friend.

"How did it go?" she squealed.

"I...uh...I got the job!" answered Elena, still struggling to process the events of the morning. "I got the job!" she cried more enthusiastically, dropping her handbag to the floor and throwing her hands into the air as Caroline rushed over to her and enveloped her into a crushing hug.

"I am so proud of you!" shouted Caroline, grabbing Elena's hands and twirling the pair around in the middle of their apartment, "It was the suit," she said determinedly, coming to a halt, "it was definitely the suit."

Elena laughed and shook her head. "I think the suit may have helped...a little."

They both dissolved into giggles and Caroline tugged her over towards the sofa, muting the television and demanding to know every little detail of what had been said.

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss you her- oh

I'm right over here why can't you see me?

Elena swayed her hips to the music and tossed her long hair back and forth, grinning across to Caroline who was mirroring her moves. The girls were crammed in on all sides by other sweaty dancers but remained largely oblivious to the male attention they were receiving, both too drunk to care or notice.

I'm giving it my all but I'm not the girl you're taking home

I keep dancing on my own

She sang along to the words loudly, her, largely out of tune, voice drowned out by the loud thudding of the music. They were back in the bar they had visited the other night, sans Caroline's band of merry men.

"'Lena, we absolutely have to go celebrate!" squealed her roommate, still in her pyjamas looking the least ready for a night out as she could possibly be.

"I don't know, Caroline, I'm pretty tired I was just thinking of turning in."
"Oh, no, no, no," protested Caroline. "I lost my wing-woman for three whole months while you worked your ass off for that moron, Elijah, we are celebrating and that is final. Now go get ready." She shoved Elena off the couch and she landed roughly on the floor with a yelp.

"Ouch! Care!" she exclaimed, rubbing her behind and rolling her eyes at her friend's attempt at looking apologetic.

"Ok," she groaned, pushing herself to her feet, trying not to tear the fabric of her skin tight pencil skirt. "I will come out, but on one condition." She held up her index finger and regarded Caroline carefully.

"Anything for you, darling." cooed her friend dramatically.

"We are leaving Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club band at home. I don't wanna get groped for an entire evening, thank you very much!"

"Not by anyone you don't want to anyway...maybe by sexy news guy." Caroline said under her breath, smiling wickedly and wriggling her eyebrows. "Ok." She sighed as if it was a huge imposition to her. "I suppose we can do without them. That guitarist is just so cute though I just wanna-"

"I don't wanna hear about the things you wanna do to him, Caroline!" laughed Elena.

Caroline giggled and sprung from the couch, suddenly a picture of energy.

"Get ready, missy." She slapped Elena's behind and skipped out of the room.

Elena brushed back a sweaty strand off her hair out of her face and took a heaving breath. The crush of people suddenly came to her attention and her drunken buzz slipped away to be replaced with an impending feeling of claustrophobia. She grabbed Caroline's arm to draw her attention from where she was dancing with some work friends.
"I'm gunna go get a water!" she yelled into her friend's ear and Caroline nodded, too drunk to notice Elena's growing distress.

She shoved her way through the crowd with her head down and elbowed her way to the front of the bar queue, earning several reproachful stares.

"Elena who works on the news." purred a voice next to her and she whirled around, her vision taking a second to catch up with her legs.

"Oh...hi." she answered slowly, feeling drunk under the watchful eyes of Damon Salvatore. He was once again looking impeccable. Her vocal chords constricted, and she struggled to even swallow as he smirked at her obvious struggle.

"Drinking again?" he asked, "I'm no saint myself, but I hardly think this is the way to live out your unemployment. It's a slippery slope, trust me." His eyes were filled with mirth and she found herself giggling and lowering her head as a blush spread across her cheeks.

"Actually, I just got a job." she said, a wide grin plastering itself onto her face.

"Oh, really?" She was struck again by the fact that she sounded genuinely interested. He placed a hand on her arm to stop her from answering as he leaned towards the bar. "What are you having?" he asked, glancing down at her and she realized the question was directed at her.

"Oh...erm...just a water, thanks." He laughed loudly, a single barking sound that reverberated through her limbs.
"Don't take my advice so seriously, Elena." His eyes sparkled mischievously and he raised his eyebrows at ? What'll it be?"

She paused, silent panic beginning to claw at her. She didn't come to cool places like this. She didn't drink trendy drinks, she didn't know how to act cool, coy and aloof whilst ordering a drink; and right now she just wanted a glass of water.

"A beer." she ground out nervously. He smirked knowingly, as if he was in on some private joke she wasn't aware of.

"Two beers, please." He glanced sideways at her, his lips curving upwards. "And a water for the lady." He threw her a wink and she gulped nervously. "So tell me about this job Elena who works on the news." he said playfully.

She took a lengthy sip of water, happy for the cool refreshment.

"It's at Rise and Shine, on channel 5." She looked at him knowingly, waiting for a reaction. The one she got was not what she expected. He snorted loudly and shook his head in disappointment.

"Wow, you must have been desperate to work for that shipwreck." She blinked at him in confusion.

"Don't you work for channel 5?" It was the first time that she had actually implied that she knew fully well who he was.

"Correction, I workedfor channel 5, past tense. We went our separate ways a long time ago. Good riddance and all that."

"Did they say that or did you?" she asked as a knee jerk reaction and he widened his eyes, betraying his composure before he smirked again.

"Very clever." He shook his finger at her and downed the last of his drink, collecting the new bottle of beer he had ordered straight away. "It was mutual parting of ways, you could say." She nodded and a not altogether awkward silence stretched between them. "So, what God awful post have you filled at Rise and Shine?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Executive producer." she answered, struggling to contain the smug smirk she could feel beating its way onto her face.

"Well, well, Elena who works on the news, for someone so shy you certainly do seem to be an ambitious little thing." He tipped his bottle in her direction and dipped his head. She blushed and smiled nervously.

"I'm not really all that shy it's just that you're..."

"I'm what?" The amused glint had returned to his eyes and she fought off the urge to just down her beer and run before she made a fool of herself.
"You're...kind of a big deal. I've watched you for years." she murmured at the exact moment there was a dip in the volume of music so he could hear every word.

He laughed and threw his head back.

"Now you're just making me feel old, Elena."

She blushed and took a heavy swig of her beer, glancing across the packed crowd and noticing the flurry of blonde hair making its way towards her. She groaned into her bottle.

"I'm sorry." she said, offering him an apologetic smile.

He frowned. "What for?"

"Elena! Oh wow...déjà vu." Caroline blinked and shook her head slightly whilst Elena gave Damon a knowing look. He smiled widely and she found herself becoming mesmerized by the expression and the way his brilliant cerulean eyes lit up. "You need to stop ditching me for news guy over here, OK? Oh my God!" she squealed, clutching onto Elena's suddenly with a vice grip.

"What, Caroline?" asked Elena, her eyes widening.

"Now you work on Rise and Shine you have to introduce me to that yummy sports correspondent, what's his name again?"

"Tyler Lockwood," answered Damon, taking a sip from his bottle and raising his eyebrows.

"Thanks, news guy." she grinned, patting his shoulder patronizingly.

"Da-mon," he enunciated slowly.

"Yeah, whatever," Caroline raised a hand and brushed him off. "Can we go dance now please?" She turned to Elena, tugging on her hand and dragging her away from him. She once again dragged her into the centre of the busy dance floor, however, the number of people seemed to have diminished slightly and she found herself feeling more comfortable with a bit more room.

"You know," shouted Caroline, leaning forwards to speak into her ear, "you should be careful around guys like that." Elena rolled her eyes at her friend, cocking her head to the side. "I'm serious, he's got that whole 'I'm gunna corrupt you' look about him."

"Is that even a look?"

"Trust me, honey, it's a look." Elena shook her head in exasperation, she appreciated Caroline's concern but she was a big girl and she could look after herself.

They danced the rest of the night away before calling it a night, Elena had become neurotic about spending all day Sunday preparing herself for her first day Monday.

Elena stared at the readily pressed white shirt that she had hung from her wardrobe the night before. Caroline had convinced her that it was 'well cut', but all she saw now when she looked at it was the odd pleating down the centre that would surely make people stare at her chest. Which is not what she wanted on her first day.

However, she trusted her best friend's fashion taste better than her own, and so she slipped the flimsy, over-priced piece of material over her head and headed out the door.

Damon yawned widely and stretched his arms above his head. Years had passed since his days as a serious, consistent news reporter, however, he still woke up at the crack of dawn every day with the aching need to find out the stories that were breaking around the world.

His own current news story involved a girl lying next to him whose name he could not recall, and the stale taste of whiskey in his mouth.

He surveyed the layout of his large, open plan loft space. Maybe he should get a maid, or a housekeeper? A housekeeper definitely sounded less kinky, but the idea of a maid was more thrilling. Maybe he'd hire both and waste some more of his savings that way.

He spied his jeans from the night before slung across a leather armchair on the other side of the room with a lacy thong peaking out of the back pocket.

Raising the sheets and peering surreptitiously beneath them he concluded that it did not belong to the leggy blonde sleeping next to him.
The investigative reporter in him began to delve into the recesses of his mind where, surely, the memory of the last few nights would be hidden.

However, all he could conjure was that girl's face. Elena who works on the news. Elena who was, surprisingly, in charge of the news. It was an amusing thought certainly; a girl so young and innocent running the production of that horrific show. He considered giving his old pal Alaric Saltzman a call and asking him what he was thinking throwing a girl like that into the lions den. At best he estimated that she'd last for a couple of months, tops.

He would be lying if he said he couldn't see the reasons that Alaric had hired her for. She was strikingly attractive; her eyes contained that doe-eyed look that made her look permanently startled. And she thought he was a big deal, he couldn't stop the swell of pride in his chest at the thought of her words.
No one had thought he was a big deal for a long time. He was a washed up, practically alcoholic, womanising lay about. Every month he received his contractually obliged pay packet and within days it had been spent on the rent for his outrageous loft and the rest on expensive scotch.

The anonymous girl next to him groaned and stretched, arching her back in a way that made him raise his eyebrows.

"What time is it?" she croaked.

He muted the television; Mason Lockwood was boring people with his own personal take on the financial crisis again. As if that entitled prick had any idea of what a crisis of finances was like.

"About half past 5," he answered. He smirked as she groaned noisily and raised her scathing eyes to look up at him.

"In the morning!"

He suppressed a shudder as her face came into view. A clearly cosmetically altered nose set above plumped lips into a small face. He glanced down at his once white pillows to see the remains of the makeup she had clearly caked on smeared across the cover.

"Yep, just about time for you to go."

"What!" she snapped, all pretences of the cool and sexy girl from the night before forgotten, "you're kicking me out, at 5am?"

''Fraid so. I'm an incredibly busy man, you see." She threw back the sheets aggressively and searched for her dress. Pulling it angrily over her head she snorted.

"Bullshit. You're a washed up waste of space, running around flashing your name and your cash in bars like it means anything to anyone anymore."

He laughed and sat up with his head against the headboard. "Well you've hit the nail on the head there, but what does that say about you, sweetheart?"

"It says I'm a good person for taking a chance on you because I thought you were a nice guy - where the fuck are my shoes!" she screeched.

"Try the kitchen sink. And a nice guy! Please. Those weren't the words you were screaming last night." She retrieved her shoes from the sink, where they had been thrown in haste the night before, pulling the slightly soggy pair onto her feet with disgust.

"You're an asshole." she spat venomously.

"Sure thing, honey. I think they have a club you can join." He smirked to himself as the resounding slam of his front door answered him. Now what to do with the rest of his day?

His eyes re-focussed on the two morning anchors on the screen in front of him. Glancing at the large, modern clock mounted on his wall he smiled. A nice visit to his friend Alaric sounded like a good idea.

Elena breathed a sigh of relief as she spied the coffee machine from across the room. Her relief was short lived however as Alaric took hold of her elbow and steered her down another long corridor into what looked like a prop room, come cafeteria, come dumping ground.

"So, this is probably where you would find anything you'd ever need for anything. If it's not on this floor, we don't have it. And if we don't have it, don't ask for it, because we can't afford it."

Elena had heard these words many times that morning. There didn't seem to be much they could afford. Along the far wall was an array of breakfast food, dried up looking pastries, and tubs of cereal. A few members of the crew were gathered around it and Alaric led her towards them.

"Everyone," he called, drawing their attention to him, "this is Elena Gilbert, she's going to be the new executive producer."

If she had been expecting pomp and circumstance, she had been gravely overestimating the enthusiasm of the entire team. A couple of people made a grunted greeting but most of them barely looked up from their bowl of bran flakes.

"I'll take you to meet the anchors now; they should be back in their dressing rooms."

"Do they not rehearse after the show finishes?" she asked, scurrying behind him and glancing wistfully at the table of food and coffee. Alaric answered with a short laugh that she had already found out was a universal answer, encompassing, but not limited to: 'hell no', 'absolutely not', 'in your dreams', and 'are you serious?'

He stopped outside a plain white door, that looked to be in desperate need of a lick of paint, and knocked gently with a single knuckle.

"Now the trick is to be in and out in less than three minutes. Any longer than that and she'll have time to get a good look at you and well...you don't want that."

"What? Why not!"

"Just trust me on this one. Three minutes." He swung the door open without a word and shoved her over the threshold. "I'll be back to take you to meet Lockwood, just..." He paused and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "Don't go see him without me."

Elena stumbled into the dimly lit room and poked her head around the door. A dark skinned woman was gazing at herself in a dressing table mirror, surrounded by large light bulbs that were mostly broken. She dabbed at her cheeks with her fingers and pulled the skin back, sighing woefully.

"Erm, hi...Miss Bennett?" The woman spun and Elena realised that she probably wasn't as old as she looked from her profile and by her mimicked face lift. She estimated that there was probably a few years between them, however, where Elena had always looked fresh and innocent, Bonnie Bennett possessed a permanent look of disdain that aged her beyond her years.

"Look-" She pressed a weary hand to her temple, shielding her eyes, and lowered her head, shaking it from side to side. "I have told Alaric a hundred times, I don't have time to dish out advice to college work experience people. I don't have any advice for you, kid, other than to maybe use that whole innocent thing you've got going and sleep your way to the top." She turned back to her mirror and began inspecting the skin of her forehead.

"Erm...actually my name's, Elena Gilbert. I'm your new EP, I was just coming to introduce myself." She glanced up to the clock on the wall. Two minutes.

"Ohhh, well this is interesting." The woman spun in her seat again, like some kind of Bond villain. "Christ, they really do get younger and younger. No prizes for guessing why Alaric hired you, I guess Lockwood will be happy..." She appeared to be speaking to herself.

"Excuse me?" asked Elena meekly.

"Do you know how many EP's I've had in the four years that I've worked here?" she asked tiresomely.

"Erm..."

"Twelve. That means you'll be here for three months, at the most. So don't bother telling me your name, sweetheart, because I won't remember it when the next little young thing is prancing in here all full of youthful energy."

Elena took this as her cue to leave and backed out the room, too nervous to turn her back, as if she had just been received by the Queen of England.

She pulled the door closed and leaned her forehead against it. Taking a step backwards she collided with a large figure and almost fell over backwards. Strong hands grasped her by the hips accompanied by a deep chuckle.

"Steady on there." She turned around and came face to face with Mason Lockwood. Short, tightly curling dark hair and a tan that suggested he didn't spend much time in Mystic Falls accompanied his gleaming white grin, his sharp teeth reminding her of a wolf.

"Hi!" she chirped, Alaric's warning at the back of her mind. "My name is Elena Gilbert, I'm your new EP." She stuck her hand out in front of her and he took it, pulling her towards him and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Its great to meet you, Elena. Please," he said beckoning with his large hands, one outstretched and the other placed on her lower back, "come into my office."

She followed him into his dressing room and found the walls to be adorned with crude, nude portraits. Her eyes flitted from one to the other before she settled her gaze on the floor, a blush spreading out across her cheeks. What had Alaric said again? Oh yeah...maybe he'd had a point.

"So, Elena...tell me about yourself."

Mason had settled himself onto a long, brown leather sofa that, after a quick glance at the walls, she realised had been used in most of his portraits.

"I uh...well there's not much to tell really."

"How old are you?" he asked, crossing his legs and leaning back with his hands joined behind his head. "You're over 21, right?" A quiver of nerves hid behind his voice.

"Um...yeah, I'm 25." He smirked dangerously and looked around the room with pride.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" She swallowed the gag that his words provoked and stretched her lips in a way that she hoped looked like a smile. "I do them very tastefully, no touching...not unless you want to."

"Oh, I could never..."

"You'd look great with a sepia filter."

"Erm...no thanks." She found herself once again backing out of the room until she spied Alaric heading over towards her.

"I thought I told you not to go in there without me. Shit, did he ask you to pose for him?"

"Erm...maybe, yeah..." Alaric groaned and shook his head.

"Rule number one: do not spend one on one time with Mason Lockwood. He's a lecherous pig and he always gets what he wants."

Elena shuddered.

"Why is he even here then?" she pressed.

Alaric shrugged and began walking again in his brisk gait that Elena struggled to keep up with. "We can't really afford anyone else right now."
They headed back up to his office as he recounted the general admin. "Your day starts at 4:15, we go live at 5am and everything after that is pretty much organised chaos so...best of luck."

"4:15? Isn't that a little late?" Alaric threw her a look, raising his tired eyebrows over the purplish hue of his well defined bags. "Its just that, if you want to get in a morning meeting then shouldn't everyone be ready an hour before...latest?"

He shrugged again. Its your show now, Elena. But good luck getting any of these prima donnas here before 4." They reached his office and a peppy looking brunette stepped out from behind a desk.

"Mr Saltzman, there's a man here to see you, he said it was urgent. He's waiting in your office."

Elena glanced across at him, "Do you want me to...?"

"No, its fine," he huffed, "its probably just one of the network execs. They can smell fresh meat." He flashed her a wink and opened the door, ushering her into the room first before closing the door behind them.

Damon rose to his feet, smoothing out his black jeans as he stood. He grinned at Alaric, letting his eyes slide across to Elena momentarily.

"Well look what the wind blew in!" exclaimed Alaric, dragging him into a manly hug. "Nice of you to honor us with your presence."

Damon laughed and pulled away from his friend, clapping him on the back.

"Well, you know, I thought I'd drop by and make sure you're keeping the place in order." He turned to look across at Elena who had her hands shoved into the pockets of her low slung, wide-leg grey flannel pants and was kicking at a piece of floor with her eyes downcast. His eyes flitted briefly down the ruffled detail across her chest before he was distracted by Alaric.

"So, what can I do for you, Damon?"

"Well, word on the rumor mill was that you'd hired a new EP, so I came to see what all the fuss was about." Elena looked up and met his smiling blue eyes. He decided to drop all pretenses of not knowing her, if only just to see Alaric's bewildered face. He could already see that his friend was far too protective of this girl.

"How's it going, Elena?" he asked smoothly.

"Not too badly, thanks." She answered shyly, tucking a stray piece of hair back into her ponytail.

"Do you two know each other?" Alaric glanced between the pair, feeling fatherly concern for Elena immediately.

"We've met a couple of times." she explained. Damon smirked as she focused on a spot somewhere above his head, fixing her eyes on it and avoiding his eyes at all costs. Why was she so embarrassed? Maybe because on her first day of work Damon Salvatore, the notorious womaniser, had appeared in front of her boss appearing to be well acquainted with her.

Nervous that Alaric would get the wrong idea about what kind of person she was she sought for a reason to excuse herself.

"I just have to use the bathroom." she garbled. Crap! Why did I say that?She thought, screeching furiously at herself as she turned scarlet and slipped from the room.

"So..." Damon placed his hands into his pockets and grinned mischievously at his friend.

"No." Alaric answered shortly, racing his hand to Damon. "Do not even think about it." Damon's grin widened, "I'm serious, Damon; hands off. I categorically forbid you to go after that girl."

Damon snorted and shook his head wearily, "You realize what you just did right? You just waved the red rag my friend, now I have to do it."

"You are not a teenager, Damon. " snapped Alaric, eyeing his friend warily. He needed to tread carefully here because, contrary to his words, Damon was emotionally about as mature as a teenager, and stupidly telling him not to do something meant that it was as good as done. "She's a nice girl, she has a lot of bright ideas for the show and I think she could genuinely do well here, Christ knows we need it..."

"Ric," Damon stepped forward and placed his hands on Alaric's shoulders, "don't stress it man. I'll be a good boy," He felt his friend relax beneath his hands. "But..." The tension immediately returned. "...as soon as she shows any inclination towards me...she's fair game."

Elena shook her head in disgust. Fair game! What was she, a pheasant?She was not game, or a game to be played. Appalled that she had actually considered for a second that the asshole was anything more than a spoiled man whore she realised that Caroline would get to give her the world's biggest 'I told you so.' He would be far from corrupting her, however, she was certain about that.

She straightened herself from where she had been stood, leaning towards the entrance to Alaric's office, around the corner from his large glass doors. She tightened her ponytail and brushed her hands over the front of her blouse before breezing back into the room.

Please, please, please review...please?

xxx