a/n: sorry, this one's a little short... But hey, we're starting to get somewhere :)

THREE

The sound of snapping fingers made Damon jolt back into reality. He did a double-take at Caroline who was standing next to him with a worried expression on her face. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied running a hand through his hair.

She studied him for a moment before moving to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "What's up? You've been out of it all day."

"It's nothing."

She shook her head. "It's not nothing. If it were, you wouldn't be completely zoned out like that. Talk to me Damon."

The fact that she was genuinely worried about him made him feel a little guilty. "I promise, it's not that big of a deal, I just have a lot on my mind with Andie's proposal."

"Uh-huh, and my father decided he wasn't gay this morning," she returned in a voice filled with sarcasm.

Damon sighed and shook his head, unable to hold back a sly grin. "Care, just drop it. I'm not going to tell you what it is."

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "I'll drop it, but not forever."

"Deal. What can I do for you?"

Caroline shrugged slightly. "Nothing, really, I just wanted to get away from the morons out there that you call employees."

Damon grinned and got out of his chair. "Well, if it's an escape that you want, allow me to grant you that wish."

"What are you doing?" she asked rising to her feet as well.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off and you can sit in here to get away from morons you wanted me to hire."

She smirked back at him as she slid into his chair behind the desk. "If you need anything, let me know."

"And if you need anything, please, don't call me today," he returned and with that he was out the door.

The moment Damon slid behind the wheel of his car he knew what he would be spending the rest of his day doing. He was going to City Hall to try and find any and all information he could on the haunted house and the ghost inside. He could tell that it was going to be an obsession of his that wouldn't go away until he had all of the answers. As he got to the public records room, the boy behind the counter let him in without even checking for identification. That was the plus about living in a small town and owning the biggest media enterprise there.

"Is there anything I can help you look for Mr. Salvatore?" the boy asked as he hovered in the doorway.

Damon shook his head. "No thanks, but if I do, I'll let you know."

The boy nodded and then returned to the desk leaving Damon free reign of all records new and old. His eyes scanned the hundreds of file cabinets, boxes, and file folders neatly categorized around the room. It was then that he realized he had no idea where to start. He didn't know what the house was called or who its residents were. The only thing that he was sure of was that the insides of the house were nineteenth century. With that, he went to one of the computers and typed "1800" into the search box. Given all the blood in the house, he was sure something would stick out.

After countless hours of going through each decade, he finally found something. There was one single report from the year 1864 about one of the few houses just outside the immediate town of Mystic Falls. However, the report was very sparse, giving him barely any new information. The few lines listed read, Resident found dead, woman still missing. Suspect was caught. It was followed by an illegible police report. Damon read it twice before printing it out. He then continued to search articles for the rest of that year and the one afterwards. Unfortunately, it was the only mention of the house. Knowing it was strange, Damon looked at his watch and blinked. If he was going to continue searching for answers it was going to have to be another day considering this one was almost over. He shut down the computer and grabbed the paper off the printer before leaving for the night.

Damon pulled up in front of the haunted house wishing that he had found another name to refer it to. He simply sat in the car staring it for the longest time. He closed his eyes for a second and shivered as he felt her touch on his shoulder again. The sound of her voice rang in his ears. After taking a deep breath, he got out of the car and headed inside. He pushed the door open gently and after it closed he looked around, not ready to move. Instead, he tried his best to feel with all his senses.

"H-hello?" he called out softly, the sound of his voice in the heavy silence making him grimace. He hated the fact that he was so uneasy, but if it wasn't a trick of his mind, then there really was a ghost in this abandoned house. A ghost that he could hear and feel. "Hello?" he called out again, taking a step towards the kitchen.

"Hello."

The voice drifted over to him and he whirled around to see her hovering near the stairs. He swallowed thickly and tried to offer her a small smile, but all he could do was stare. He cleared his throat and raised his hands in attempt to show her that he meant no harm. "Hi," he said again, not sure what else there was to say.

"You can hear me?" she asked, her head tilted to the side while surprise filled her dark transparent eyes. He nodded slowly, still unsure of what to say. He had come here with the intention of talking to her, but to actually be talking to a ghost made the ability to speak disappear. "No one has ever heard me before," she added with a sad tone when she realized he wasn't going to say anything.

Damon swallowed over the lump of fear gathering in his throat and forced himself to say something. "What's your name?" he asked, gazing at her in awe. It was surreal to see her, the image wavering like a fine mist. The fact that she was real had him floored. He studied her for a moment and saw her shake her head after getting a bewildered look on her face. "My name is Damon Salvatore," he prompted.

She gave a slight nod. "I don't know my name," she returned in a voice filled with torment and disappointment.

"Do you remember anything about your past?" he asked, getting more curious.

She shook her head again and cast her eyes down at the ground. "I remember feeling panicked and fearful right before someone told me to close my eyes and that when I opened them again, everything would be alright. When I did open them again, there were people in my house that I didn't know. I asked them what they were doing here, but everyone ignored me. I shouted at them; demanded that they leave, but not one person heard me. I went to touch someone's shoulder, but I went right through them." Her eyes connected with Damon's again and he was almost certain there were tears beginning to form.

"How long ago was that?"

The girl shut her eyes and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Time means nothing to me anymore. There have been many people since then, but each one is the same. No one hears me or feels me. No one until you."

Damon wet his lips and nodded. "There has to be a reason for that," she said and watched as she nodded in agreement. "If it's alright with you, I would like to come back every chance I can and help you remember what happened to you." He knew on some level that the reason she could finally be heard was that they had a connection for whatever reason and that connection would be helpful in allowing her to cross over.

She offered a slight smile. "I would be eternally grateful."

"It would be my pleasure," Damon returned. They continued to stare at each other in silence, neither one sure of what to say next. He cleared his throat after a long moment of silence and shifted his feet awkwardly. "It must have been lonely for you all these years. I could stay and talk as long as you'd like."

She nodded. "I fade into the sunlight and reappear upon its disappearance."

"I don't mind staying up that long." He could tell from the look on her face that she was delighted in the fact that he was willing to stay and talk. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything," she said. "Everything."

Damon nodded and thought of some of the things that had happened in the years since he thought her death occurred. He knew he was in for a long night by the way he was hanging on his every word, but for whatever reason, it wasn't bothering him the in the least. It was the thought of leaving her in the morning that was making him sad. Whatever their connection was, it was deep and it made it more imperative for him to find out what it was and fast.