A/N: Ugh! Rewrote this chapter late at night because Elena was way too much of a bitch. Even I started to hate her a little bit. And I got distracted by season 2 of TVD on DVD that I was marathoning with my baby sister. My 21 year old brother wandered in and started making fun of it, so I wound up trying to justify the drama ("But, see, it actually is life-and-death here! THEY COULD ACTUALLY DIE!") until he started poking fun at the Stefan and Elena scenes, and then I just couldn't. There really is no justification for that level of obsession and co-dependance, I swear. And I realize that I'm going off on a tangent, but I just want to reiterate that I like Stefan, and I like Elena, but the second they talk to and/or about each other, it's like they shut down entirely and are working solely on a lower brain function that serves only to remind them to cry and profess their love. Like, seriously children, that's enough now. There are other words in the English language aside from, "I love you" and "Keep you safe".

On a more story-related note, reporter-Elena is wicked old school. Just sayin'. A lot of random stuff happens in this chapter, mostly because I, like you, really want Elena to just suck it up and fall in love with Damon already. This should be the only chapter that's quite this sporadic; they should be a little more consistent from here on in, but it was necessary for character development.

Shameless self-promotion: Twitter - SweetWillowTree

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries.

The sun shone softly into his bedroom as Damon slowly woke from his deep sleep. He kept his eyes closed as his arm tightened around the warm body pressed against him. The breathing of the sleeping woman, mixed with the hazy patterns of light on the ceiling when he did open his eyes, created a relaxing atmosphere, and he smiled.

Carefully, he rolled onto his side, pressing his lips to the olive-skinned shoulder that had been, until a moment ago, against his own. He was rewarded with a low sigh as the woman stirred.

"Good morning, Elena," he murmured into her skin.

"Mmm... 'Morning." She rolled over and kissed him lightly. "My favourite way to wake up."

He smiled against her lips and slid his tongue into her mouth.

"I love you," he heard her say, even though her mouth was clearly otherwise occupied.

"I love you too," he answered somehow.

He rolled back, pulling her on top of him. But when she pulled away for a breath, he frowned. Her eyes were lined in dark makeup, and her face was twisted into a manipulative expression.

"Katherine?" he breathed.

"That's me, lover," she answered, stroking his face affectionately. "I hear you're trying to replace me."

He tried to sit up. "How did you -?" But she shoved him back down.

"Sh..." she cooed.

And then, as though in slow motion, she pulled back an arm, and thrust her hand into his chest. He gasped, and then screamed as he felt her fingers wrap around his heart.

"You won't be needing this," she grunted as she pulled the organ from its living cage, "It's always gonna be mine anyways."

Damon sat up with a yell, sweating and breathing heavily. His fingers scrambled to his chest, feeling for a hole that wasn't there. He blinked rapidly in the morning sunlight, simultaneously trying to repel the images from his dream, and hold onto them. It had been months since he had last dreamt of Katherine, and it brought up a whole host of negative thoughts and emotions.

"Christ," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs out of bed. "She just about ruined your damn life, idiot. Stop thinking about her!"

He shuffled across the room, scratching an itch on his hip just under the waistband of his boxers. Once he'd gotten to the hallway en route to the kitchen for breakfast, he stopped as the memory of big brown eyes flashed through his mind. Elena. She was already jittery enough at the thought of being in the same damn house as him; showing up half-naked would probably just set her off in the wrong direction.

And that, he thought wryly, turning to fetch a t-shirt, is the first time that my being in any way naked as ever threatened to scare a woman.

Rose and Elena were having breakfast alone, chatting amiably as the younger woman question the elder about her job teaching primary school. Caroline and Andie had both had to leave for work, and Jessica was still in her room.

"That's terrible!" Elena exclaimed, covering her mouth so as not to spray the remains of her orange juice on the table. "What did you do?"

"I walked over to my desk," Rose described, pushing her eggs around her plate absentmindedly, "Pulled out a stack of corrections that I had to do, slammed them on his desk, and told him that if he's so bored with listening to me, then he might as well make himself useful. And if he corrected any of the answers wrong, a point would be taken off his own grade."

"Harsh," the younger giggled, taking another sip of her juice.

Rose continued to recount horror stories when she realized that she quite liked Elena. The newcomer was smart and quick-witted, and also very kind when Damon was nowhere nearby.

And as if on cue, the man himself stalked into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee machine before searching the cupboards for an appropriately sugary and unhealthy box labelled 'cereal', although Rose was entirely certain that that label was a lie. Marshmallows are not breakfast food.

"Good morning, Damon," she said deliberately, hoping to shake him out of whatever mood he was in.

He usually was a morning person, and so she could not imagine why this morning, the first morning that Elena was here, and thus one of the best times for him to make a good impression, he should be intolerable. Not that Rose was quite ready to jump in with Caroline's plotting to get the two together, but she did think that it would be quite nice if her oldest friend could actually find real love.

He turned with his box of whatever he was passing off as breakfast and took two steps to sit down at the table.

"Good morning, Rose," he answered antagonistically. Then he looked over at Elena. "Morning," he mumbled quietly.

Good Lord, I am not staying here to watch this, Rose thought, glancing over at the clock.

"Oh, well, it's nearly 8 o'clock, I really need to head out."

Damon's scowl dissolved into a panicked expression as his eyes hopped from Elena to Rose. Amusingly enough, the younger woman's expression was identical.

"But, you don't have to be there for another half hour!" the man blurted.

"I have a student teacher coming in. Prep work, you know." She stood up and deposited her dishes in the sink, turned and made her way back over to Damon. She grabbed his hair lightly and tugged his head back to meet her eyes. "It is entirely too early for you to be this miserable. Cheer up, or go back to bed."

And with that, she kissed him on the forehead, waved to Elena and walked out.

She didn't go very far, to be honest. In reality, a substitute teacher was taking her class as Rose herself was being sent to some seminars downtown. Thus, she didn't have to be anywhere for over an hour. So she propped herself just outside of the kitchen door, and listened.

And listened. And listened.

Oh, come on Damon.

"So how did you sleep?" she heard her boyfriend say.

Success!

"Very well, thank you," Elena answered stiffly.

"Well that's good." It was silent again for a while. "What time do you work?"

Rose heard the scrape of a fork. "I have a meeting at ten."

"Well that's... Good... Again..."

Are you fucking shitting me?

The teacher pushed herself away from the wall, and slid through the door of the kitchen again.

"Damon," she said loudly, and both of the others visibly loosened up at her voice, "I forgot that I have a box to bring with me. Could you help me bring it from my room to the elevator?"

"Seriously?" he whined.

"Ye-es," she mocked him.

He huffed out a disgruntled breath, but followed her out of the room regardless.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rose exclaimed in hushed tones once they'd reached a safe distance from the kitchen.

"What are you talking about? Where the hell is this box?" He was looking around, confused and oh-so-adorable with his mussed morning hair.

"There is no box," Rose explained slowly. "I needed to talk to you. Since when do you get all nervous around women?"

The penny dropped, and Damon suddenly frowned. "I'm not nervous. She just hates me."

"She doesn't hate you, love; she just doesn't know you. And," she continued, a small smile on her lips, "Maybe you shouldn't have shown up to breakfast with your little chicken legs on display." She pinched him for good measure.

"I," he began, clearly affronted, "Do not have chicken legs!"

"Just a little bit."

Damon's jaw dropped, and Rose turned him around and began marching him back towards the kitchen.

"Now, go back in there, and say something," she ordered.

A sudden jolt of panic shot through her when he was out of sight, and she made her way to the elevator.

Please, oh please, don't talk about the weather!

"It's getting pretty warm. Good to know that summer is on it's way," Damon attempted, although Elena simply nodded back.

She wasn't really trying to be rude, but she wasn't particularly a morning person, and although she'd slept like a rock, she'd also been haunted by terrifying nightmares about her little brother, Jeremy, Elijah, and Klaus. Damon's obvious and forced attempts to make conversation just required more energy out of her than she was able to give at the moment.

She took a deep breath, and finally gave in.

"So what's your schedule like? Do you work 9 to 5, or from here, or...?"

He glowed. Actually glowed now that she was speaking to him.

"It changes," he said flippantly, leaning back in his chair. "I don't have anything solid until lunch, and I'm booked until late tonight. But," he pushed himself forward again, folding his arms on the table, "If you wanted to spend some time getting to know each other tomorrow night?"

"Um..." She really didn't want to. She had enough on her plate without having to fend of Damon's very flattering, but still very unwanted, advances. "I think I'm busy tomorrow night, so -"

"Oh!" He frowned a little. "What do you have planned? Maybe I could join you, or we could -"

Elena shook her head and stood up, grabbing her glass and making for the sink.

"I don't think so. But thanks anyway."

When she turned back, she realized that Damon had followed her, and they now stood toe-to-toe, her back pressed against the counter.

"Are you really sticking to this?" His eyes flashed, and her stomach tightened. She wasn't sure if it was nerves or... something else, but it had her attempting to back away from him further. She couldn't. "You've moved into the damn house! Are you really just not going to talk to me?"

"I told you how I felt when I accepted your offer," she answered in a deceptively strong voice. "What did you expect? Are you going to force me to spend time with you? Are there rules for that?"

His jaw dropped, and he took a few steps away.

"Seriously?" he all but breathed, offended. "You think that I -?" He growled wordlessly, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Hey, if you're looking for someone who gives orders, talk to Rose, or Andie. Because half the time, I'm pretty sure I'm just their bitch. Caroline doesn't listen to a word I say unless we're in bed; Jessica's the only one who listens to me, and even that's limited."

His angered confession shocked Elena, almost to a point of speechlessness. But not quite.

"Oh!" She stepped towards him, enjoying the fact that now, he was the one backing away. "So you're finding it difficult to control your four girlfriends? Well that's just too damned bad!" She moved past him, towards the door to the kitchen. "God, you're disgusting! I'm going to work. Have a nice day!"

A few days later, Elena arrived at work to a staff meeting, where she would be receiving her next assigned story. She hoped it would be a long one. Over the past few weeks, she'd had to work on a different project every day, and it wasn't nearly as satisfying as something that required all of her attention.

"How's the new living situation?" Isobel whispered in a faux-friendly tone, as the younger woman seated herself at the boardroom table.

Elena's eyes widened momentarily. She hadn't told anyone about where she was living, aside from changing the address in her personnel file.

"How did you -?"

Her question was cut off when the editor entered, and the room quietened.

Once the regular pleasantries were disposed of, John looked around the room at the reporters, and his eyes landed on Elena.

"Gilbert, you're up first. The Ricardo case is up for appeal, and we would like for you to cover it. Dig into the original proceedings, talk to the lawyers for the defence -"

"Got it," Elena interrupted. She knew how to do her job.

She also knew who the lawyer was for the defence.

"Here. I brought you a sandwich."

Damon looked up from the computer and smiled widely as his eyes met Elena's. This was the first time they'd been alone in a room since their argument in the kitchen her first morning in his home.

"Thank you. And it's really nice to -"

She took a seat, her face set in a very professional and serious expression.

"I'm here for work, and I don't think either of us has a lot of time to waste chatting, right?"

He nodded solemnly, pulling the paper-wrapped sandwich toward himself as brown-eyed beauty across from him pulled out a tape recorder and notebook.

"Alright," she clicked the recorder on, "Now, what – Crap."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

To his surprise, she actually laughed lightly.

"Oh, nothing. I just -" She met his eyes, and seemed to be weighing her options. "I keep a journal using this," she held up the recorder in one hand, while the other dug around in her purse, "And I forgot to change the tape this morning. I just remembered now."

"Anything juicy?" he asked after swallowing his first bite.

"You wish," she mumbled back, focused on her purse as she searched for a new tape. "Ah ha!" she declared, her hand held victoriously in the air, new tape in her palm. She put it in the device, and clicked it on.

"Alright, Mr. Salvatore..." He snickered, and she shot him a silencing look. "Why have you and the client decided to appeal the original decision?"

"Some new evidence came to light that we feel could have reasonably affected the verdict in the original case."

He noticed that, as she recorded the goings-on, she also took notes, biting her lip adorably in the process.

"And what kind of evidence?"

The rest of the interview continued in much the same way; Damon observing every little thing that his new girlfriend-of-sorts was doing, as she worked hard to get all of the information that she needed.

It became a sort-of routine as the days passed, and Elena began to stray from her line of questioning to focus on something else, although Damon was much less pleased than he thought he would be. This was because her new interest, when their interviews were finished, was his office. Yes, his office.

It was a large office, and quite typical, he thought. There was a painting on the wall, an abstract work entitled, 'Hidden Spaces', above a brown leather loveseat and coffee table, opposite a large bookshelf. His desk was in front of the window, with a number of brown leather armchairs on the other side for guests.

"Why do you keep these books here?" Elena asked one day. "They aren't typically used for reference in legal cases, are they?"

He shut the drawer to the filing cabinet that he was flipping through to look at her. She was pointing at some fictional books that he had on the shelf, alongside his copies of legal texts, philosophical treatises, and the like.

"Inspiration," he answered, walking over to pluck 'The Lorax' from the shelf. "'Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not,'" he quoted.

"Well that's... interesting." She was blushing as she said it, and turned back to the shelf quickly.

Damon almost cheered.

As the weeks progressed since Elena's arrival, Caroline went out of her way to (very obviously) attempt to soften the reporter on the subject of Damon. She tried to lure them into the same rooms, and 'accidentally' lock them in together, stole cell phones and wreaked havoc, and, the most irritating, she talked Elena's ear off about how wonderful Damon was.

"Okay, Caroline, enough!" Elena exclaimed, as the blonde followed, chattering, to her bedroom door. "I get it; he's great. But I just can't right now, okay?"

The other woman opened her mouth to answer, but there was a soft thud from Jessica's bedroom, followed by a scuttling sound, and then silence again. Elena stared at the closed door with concern.

"Oh, ignore that," Caroline told her. "I'm serious, she does weird stuff in there sometimes. Damon's really the only one who ventures in when she's making noise."

"Why?"

"I'm pretty sure it's his psych background. He told me about her once... She has, like, anxiety and aga-something. I'm not too -"

"Agoraphobia?" Elena supplied.

"Yeah! That! Crowds, and spaces, and stuff. But she's way better since I've gotten here. She has doctors who come in every few days to talk to her, and Damon's, like, really good about getting her out of her room and outside. She won't even walk down the street with me!"

"Interesting..." the brunette murmured, looking back at the door one last time.

She had the opportunity a few days later to observe what Caroline had described. Elena was working from home that day, researching and using Damon's extensive legal library within the penthouse for her next article, when she dropped a heavy book. It slammed to the floor in the office, and she heard a series of thumps from Jessica's room, followed by footsteps, and the sound of the door opening.

Curious, Elena made her way down the hall until she could see through the crack between the door and the frame.

Damon was opening the bedroom window before he turned around and crouched next to the empty bed.

"Jessica?" he said softly. "Jess? It was a book that fell; nothing happened."

There was a muffled answer, and then Damon stood up and backed away. A few seconds later, Jessica appeared from under the bed, taking her boyfriend's outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her up. Her wide eyes took in the open window, and the gap in the door (although she didn't see Elena peeking through) and visibly relaxed.

Damon leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead and she smiled at him, a little.

"How do you feel?" he asked her.

"Good," she answered quietly. "Safe." His lips quirked up, and Jessica reached a hand up to stroke the side of his face. "Thank you."

He only smiled wider, and then they moved to lay down together on the bed, Damon's arms wrapped around her as she flipped through channels on a television that Elena couldn't see.

Speaking of Elena, she found herself enthralled with the image before her, the tenderness with which Damon pressed kisses into Jessica's hair, and the joy with which Jessica spoke, quietly, about what was happening on her show.

It took a few minutes for Elena to shake her head, and remember that she wasn't supposed to like Damon at all.

As work progressed on Damon's case, he was around the house less and less. Elena got to know the other women much better, and, as luck would have it, she was the only one available to accompany Andie to the airport when the day came for her to leave for Los Angeles.

"You really didn't have to do this," the older woman said to the younger as their car pulled up in front of their building.

"It's my pleasure," Elena responded, a genuine smile gracing her features.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, glancing out the window, Elena still familiarizing herself with the neighbourhood, while Andie reflected nostalgically on her time spent in the city.

"So," Elena began, "You're Alaric's sister, right?" The other woman nodded. "The last names...?"

"Starr sounds better than Saltzman on TV."

Elena nodded, and they were quiet again until Andie spoke.

"Fair warning: Caroline's made it her life mission to get you and Damon together, for real."

The journalist laughed, nodding. "Yeah, I caught on after the second time she 'accidentally' locked us both in the pantry. She really isn't all that great with the subterfuge."

"No kidding. But she's very sweet, and kind of has a point."

A sigh escaped the younger woman's lips. "And that would be?"

Andie met Elena's stare dead on. "That Damon is completely swept away by you. And he really is worth it, if you can work through the baggage."

"I'm getting that from all sides, thanks. But if he's so worth it, why are you leaving?"

There was no bitterness in the broadcaster's voice when she answered. "We were never meant to be that way. We hooked up a bit in college together, and it just sort of extended after his marriage ended. But that's all it's meant to be, and we're both fine with that."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Elena asked, frowning. "You don't feel like you wasted any time?"

"Not at all. My career is my top priority, so I would never have been able to manage a 'real' relationship anyways. This was all that I needed; the right thing at the right time."

Elena nodded, and looked back out the window, absorbing what Andie had said, and trying desperately to hold onto her original, and rapidly fading, disdain for Damon.

That same night, the women were surprised when Damon came home in time for dinner. His brow was furrowed, his eyes tired, and he didn't say much, if anything, during the meal. Rose followed him up to his room after they'd finished eating, having seen this behaviour before.

"You hit a wall with the case?" He nodded from his spot on the edge of his bed, and she reached down to take his hand. "Why don't we go see a movie later? I just have a few lesson plans to finish, and then I'm all yours? It'll take your mind off of things, and you can come back to it fresh later."

"Yeah... Yeah, that sounds good. I'm just gonna take a nap if you wanted to order tickets online. Whatever you want to see."

He kicked off his shoes and flopped back, so Rose leaned over, kissed him lightly on the lips and turned off the lights on her way out.

She went to her own room, and, after ordering tickets for Thor (not her type of film, but she figured that Damon would find it suitably distracting), she pulled her binder out of her bag, and began writing out notes on what she would be teaching her class for the next few weeks. She had just gotten to the last five when Caroline sauntered in, sipping her can of diet cola.

"What are you doing?" the blonde asked.

"Finishing up some work, and then going to wake up Damon. We're going to see a movie," Rose answered, not even bothering to look up.

"Tonight?" Caroline asked, but the tone of her voice made the teacher's head snap up.

"Yes, tonight. Why? What are you -?"

She didn't finish her sentence, because at that exact moment, Caroline's drink tipped, spilling the sugar-filled substance all over Rose's lesson plans. The latter's jaw dropped.

"Oops," Caroline squeaked.

"You! I can't – What are you playing at? This will take me hours to rewrite!"

The actress grinned with satisfaction before responding. "Well, that means that you're busy, and I have early rehearsal, so I guess Elena will have to go with Damon to the movies, huh?"

Rose was speechless, overwhelmed with feelings of frustration that she would have to redo her work, and something akin to pride at Caroline's sneakiness.

There was a knock at the door, and Damon poked his head in.

"Hey," he croaked, having just woken up. "Are you ready to go?"

Rose's mouth moved soundlessly until Caroline answered for her.

"There's gonna have to be a change of plans..."

"I would have killed her."

Damon shook his head a little, tearing his eyes away from the snack bar menu to focus on the tiny brunette next to him.

"Who now?" he asked, chuckling a little.

"Caroline. And I would have made it look like a freak accident. Or maybe I just would have done something weird to her hair... She seems like the type that would be more afraid of that than death."

Damon nodded. "She has been a little off lately..."

He was hit with a pointed look as they took a step forward in line. "A little off? This whole mission of hers is getting dangerous! What if she spilled soda all over your computer, huh?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think she would have – Wait! What mission?"

Elena gave him a disbelieving look. "Really? You haven't noticed? The pantry incidents; the tricks with the cell phones; and that time with the bathroom that I'm still really embarrassed about."

She turned back to the snack bar, busying herself with examining their choice of candy, but she couldn't hide the blush spreading over her cheeks at the memory. He himself hadn't been too embarrassed when Caroline had apparently led Elena into his room, insisting that they needed to get something out of his closet, and walking right into his bathroom, 'by accident'. While he was showering. In his completely transparent, glass-enclosed shower.

As a matter of fact, he had found it extremely funny.

And now, he sort of wanted to take Caroline in his arms and hug her for her many (clumsy) attempts.

They ordered their treats ("Wait, you're getting butter on your popcorn? I thought you were on a diet or something!"), and found their seats, Elena sipping her soda happily, and Damon hesitant to say anything, lest he undo any of the progress that he'd already made.

They had been sitting together for a few minutes, watching the pre-show, when Damon leaned over, and whispered: "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, confused.

"Coming out. It's nice. We should do it more often."

She watched him for a few seconds before her face softened, and she smiled a little.

"Yeah, maybe we should."

A/N: The Lorax is my favourite book ever. I have it memorized. Word. For. Word.