Author's Note: I know it's been months since I updated this story. I never take this long to update, but I've had a pretty tough semester at school this spring, so Eng. Lit. classes have stolen all my writing time. The good news is there is just a few weeks left and I'll have plenty of time to write should there still be someone out there reading this. :P Enjoy!

Chapter 3

The thin gold chain was a welcoming contrast against the delicate skin of Elena's neck. It beckoned to Stefan, urging him to slide the tip of his finger beneath it and trace the path to where the pendant dangled. Had he less self-control or been a lesser man that would have been exactly what he would have done. Instead, he shifted on the bench seat of the carriage and directed his gaze out the small window.

"I thank you, again," Elena murmured, lacing her fingers together and resting her hands in her lap where she sat across from him. "I hadn't expected such a kind escort back to the estate this morning."

"I'd rather know you were settled before I left town," Stefan replied, swinging his eyes back toward her and taking a moment to revel in her profile.

Everything – the very slope of her nose and curve of her mouth – was identical to Katherine. Yet Elena couldn't be further from the woman who had ruined his and Damon's lives. She was soft-spoken and tender, far too kind for her own good, and completely unaware of the danger she had placed herself in. Unfortunately, Damon had left him no choice.

"As I warned you," Stefan added, swallowing hard when her gaze met his and the corners of her mouth curved upward in a sweet smile, "Damon can be difficult. I thought I would make one last attempt at having you rethink your decision."

He spent most of the night pacing the floors at the Salvatore estate and praying to a God he knew no longer heard him, hopeful that Elena might come to her senses by morning. It didn't help matters that Damon moseyed through the house, vocalizing his speculations for Elena's appearance and alluding to the things he wished to do to her. All it would take was one small mistake, an action or phrase too similar to Katherine's for Damon to attack Elena.

It wasn't as if Stefan didn't understand the temptation. While Katherine had turned his entire being inside out, he still yearned for her and craved the touch of her body against his. Elena would have undoubtedly been a welcomed substitute – perhaps an even better one.

Thank God she drank vervain and was wearing the necklace he'd given her.

"I assure you that I can tend to your brother," Elena laughed, seemingly caught up in the comparison of Damon to Jeremy. If only she knew how different their brothers were. She would welcome Jeremy's drinking and lack of help with her father over the darkness that dwelled inside Damon. "My mother used to say difficult men just need a strong woman to guide them." A tremor ran through her voice, but she cleared her throat and straightened in her seat. "It's no wonder my father took her death so hard."

"Grief does strange things to people."

Her eyes softened as they met his. "You speak from experience," she murmured, looking as though she wanted to question him further.

With a sigh, Stefan shrugged off her sympathy, knowing it was unfair to compare her mother's death to what had happened with Katherine – even if losing her had been like a sudden death. Katherine changed in the blink of an eye, changing everything they knew about her and showing her how ugly a person could be. Losing her caused him to straighten up, but sent Damon into a tailspin he had yet to recover from. Could he really leave Elena alone with his brother for the few weeks he would be gone?

"We're here," Stefan said, never so relieved to see the gates surrounding the Salvatore estate, fencing his father once believed would keep people like him out. Now the iron gates acted as a weak defensive mechanism in his and Damon's minds; it kept them safe from everyone in Mystic Falls, but only because no one knew exactly who the Salvatore brothers were.

Elena twisted in her seat, looking out the window behind her as the gates swayed in the morning breeze. They moved gently at first before surging forward and meeting in the middle, the sound of the clanking iron like chains. She couldn't fight the harsh shiver that ran down her spine. "Forgive me," she whispered, forcing her body to return to its proper, upright ladylike stance. "I have – I have never lived anywhere else except my home. And despite the short distance, Mystic Falls feels as if it's in another country."

"The estate has that effect on me as well," he replied, reaching for the carriage door the second it rolled to a stop. He didn't bother waiting for the driver to open it.

Slipping off the bench and stepping into the morning sun, he glanced at the front of the house for a sign of Damon. The curtain nearest the door rustled, causing a lump to form in his throat. Was he delivering Elena to a terrible fate? Or worse, Damon? Could his brother survive this?

"Don't think I've forgotten our agreement," Elena said, her lips curving into a tender smile as she wrapped her slender fingers around his arm and stepped down from the carriage.

Neither had he. "I will send a doctor to see your father very soon."

"Not that." Her brow arched as she eyed the front of the house. "I want to meet this mysterious brother of yours – the Mr. Salvatore I'll be working for while you're gone."

"I warned you that-"

"And I told you I wanted to meet him," Elena interrupted, releasing her grip on his arm as she tipped her head toward the house. "At least one of you is willing to honor my wish."

Gripping the sides of her dress, she lifted the material up from the ground and started toward the house where Damon stood leaning against one of the wide columns that wrapped the porch. The sun slid over his rumpled clothing and soaked into his skin, his mouth hanging in the most relaxed smile Stefan had seen on his brother in months. He knew that feeling, could still remember what it felt like to feel the sun after being forced to hide from it for so long.

"His ring," Stefan whispered, his stomach turning at the realization that Damon was standing in the sun without a single care in the world.

He had found his ring.

"Don't look so shocked, little brother," Damon called out, pushing away from the column and sauntering down the paved path to meet Elena. He glanced around her small form to wink at Stefan before extending his hand. Obliged to take it, Elena wrapped her hand around his as her knees bent in a polite dip.

The entire scene – Stefan standing near the carriage as the driver unloaded her trunks, Elena rushing forward to greet Damon – was too familiar. They had lived this before and with dire consequences, a fall-out they were still fighting to recover from. Bringing Elena here had been a mistake, but could Stefan have ever gone back to a time where he hadn't known her? Damon was right about one thing; Stefan was curious and had to know how she could look so much like Katherine yet be so different.

"Miss Gilbert," Damon murmured, bringing her hand to his mouth, well aware that she was the forbidden apple. And knowing his brother as well as Stefan did, he knew Damon would find a way to take a bite.


Judging from the overzealous way that Elena was being pulled through the Salvatore home, Stefan had underestimated his brother. Despite his constant warnings that Damon was the type to keep to himself, talk little, and had a disregard for nearly everyone, Elena was finding him to be quite the opposite. In fact, she rather enjoyed his company, a nice surprise considering she had left the house frustrated and humiliated just yesterday.

"The library is my favorite room in the house," Damon murmured, stopping at the end of a row of shelves. "I'm rather fond of getting lost in the dark corners."

"It must be difficult to read in the dark," Stefan commented, his hands braced on either side of him as he leaned back on the railing that wrapped the upper level of the library.

"You of all people should know there are many things I can do in the dark," he replied, his lips curving into a wide smirk as he eased her along. The bookshelves seemed to go on forever, making quite an impressive collection. "What is your poison, Miss Gilbert?"

Damon's brow creased as he stared down at her, the soft blue shade of his eyes appearing to emit sparks when they met hers. It was the kind of gaze she knew she should look away from, but couldn't. He was so different from Stefan – darker, mysterious, every word that left his lips laced with a meaning she didn't understand. Or rather, she wouldn't allow herself to understand. He was the type of a man that ruined a proper woman, and she imagined that was what Stefan had warned her about.

While his clothes were rumpled, his jaw line was strong, his eyes piercing, and he never failed to look her in the face when he spoke to her. Something about that made her feel as if she was the only person in the room. Granted, Stefan was the only other person there, but it made her feel special. Few men cared enough to look so closely at a woman when they were speaking to her.

His voice was also kinder than it had been yesterday. Maybe that came with finally seeing his face and shaking his hand. His touch was gentle and his voice soft; everything about him exuding a kindness that she wouldn't have thought existed after the way Stefan spoke about him.

"Well?" he asked, drawing her from her thoughts as he tapped his fingers along the back of her hand as she held the crook of his arm. His fingertips danced along her skin, causing her to shiver as she looked up at him. For some reason he felt as if everything weighed on her answer.

Nervous, she said the first thing that came to mind, "Tragedy." The air seemed to thicken as Damon and Stefan looked at one another, their faces hardening, sharing words without saying them. She unwound her arm from Damon's and turned so she faced the brothers. "It's a trite answer, I'm afraid, but like most women I enjoy a good tragedy."

"Trust me," Damon said, swinging his gaze back to hers, "nothing about you, Miss Gilbert, is trite."

His eyes sparked again like they had nearly every time he looked at her. Was it meant to be a compliment – or something else? There was something amiss here, something bigger than her, something she wasn't sure she would ever understand.

Something secretive.

Elena didn't like being on the outside. When she was growing up, her father constantly scolded her for wanting to know everything and pestering those around her until she got the information she wanted. She doubted pestering was a good idea here. "Damon – Mr. Salvatore," she stammered, not liking the easy way his name rolled off her tongue, "I appreciate the tour."

Damon responded with another smirk that drifted toward his brother. He seemed to think this was a competition and that showing her around the house and acting as if she were some prized possession on his arm would get under Stefan's skin. A scowl darkened Stefan's mouth. His hands tightened around the railing and for some reason Elena felt responsible.

"And I appreciate your generosity," Elena added, earning a scowl from Damon, as she turned her attention to Stefan, "with your time this morning and with my father."

The air shifted again, turning staler. The brothers eyes flashed to one another, their bodies stiffening as another understanding passed between them. Yet another moment where she stood on the outside. Elena wasn't sure why she felt so uncomfortable and at fault. She had hardly known the Salvatores a day. How could she be the cause of their discomfort?

"If – if you don't mind," Elena stammered, her breath hitching when their eyes swung to her, "I think I'll return to my room and get settled." She held her breath, worried that one would want to escort her.

It had been awkward enough when Damon decided that he must show her the lavish bedroom she would be staying in before anything else. He left Stefan and the carriage driver to struggle with her trunks and led her up the stairs, where he pointed out that his bedroom was right down the hall from hers. It seemed odd that the help should be so close to him, but she didn't question it.

Just like she didn't question how he knew her bed was comfortable or her bed linens the finest.

A less wise woman would have missed his suggestive tone or been unaware of what he may have used her bed for, but Elena wasn't. She had dealt with men in town, most of whom wished to take her to bed and a handful that had intentions of marrying her first and then taking her to bed, to know what Damon meant. A smart woman would have struck him, but she was too surprised by his frankness to do anything. The best outcome was to keep him at arms length. That way he couldn't mistake her kindness for reciprocation or infatuation, which is what most women she knew would have felt.

"And I'll call you later when dinner is ready," Elena added, curtsying at the brothers before turning and starting for the stairs.

"Remember," Damon called after her, "it's just me. My little brother here is leaving on business right now."

Her hand gripped the railing as she hurried down the steps, careful not to trip over her feet. She wanted nothing more than to put distance between her and both brothers until she sorted out what was going on between them.

Siblings were strange that way. They grew up with one another, a camaraderie that only they could understand, which made everyone else feel like an outsider. There was a time when she and Jeremy had been that close, when they could have a conversation with a single look. Was it something more with Stefan and Damon?

"I trust you to behave, Damon." She paused in the middle of the stairs, holding her breath as she waited for Damon's reply. Eavesdropping was quite unladylike, but there was no one to scold her for doing so.

"You should loosen up, Little Brother, and have some fun."

"Not at Elena's expense."

"Elena?" Damon huffed, his tone hardening. "Already close enough for first names?"

"Don't be jealous, Damon. You can't help that you're beneath a lady like Elena."

"Beneath?" His brother chuckled in that suggestive way that she wished she didn't notice. "You make it too easy for me."

"Do not hurt her." The threat that laced Stefan's words made Elena's chest tighten.

It was if they were in a competition.

Two brothers fighting over something – for something that hadn't existed until Elena came back into this house. It was an unnerving realization, one that tempted her to forget her things and leave the house immediately, but she thought first of her father. If Stefan could bring a doctor to visit him and was willing to pay for whatever he needed, Elena had no choice but to stay.

Even if that meant that there was a competition brewing and she may be the prize.