Sorry for the long delay, I don't know what happened. I just couldn't find the right words for this. But now here it is. And I think I've tortured you long enough. The D/E fun is about to begin, finally. It's still pretty tame for now, I'm still undecided whether or not I should up the rating to M later on. Let me know what you want, okay? Kidding, it's not that I don't know it already… you want hot sexy smut. But the question is: will I be able to pull it off? I don't want this story to go down in mediocrity once the smut starts. I guess we'll see.

Oh, and I couldn't help myself: Apart from the obvious spoilery hint (Does the title not automatically connect to a certain picture in your head?), well, apart from that I hid a small spoiler for one of the upcoming episodes. A tiny detail some people felt the need to discuss on LJ and it made me laugh. So, see if you can find it, okay? And I'm not referring to Elena on the couch with a History book.


Lessons In History

Elena was in the bathroom, right in the middle of her bedtime-routine, when she heard a soft knock on the door. It was followed by barely audible footsteps on the carpet and the soft click of the door. Elena quickly bent down to spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

When she came up again Damon had materialized no two inches behind her.

Elena proudly noted that she didn't flinch.

"Ready for bed already?" Damon's light blue eyes traveled down her body, lingering on some parts longer than others, and Elena took a step aside and self-consciously held a towel to her front.

After all, she was dressed only in her short gray sleeping pants and a plain sky-blue cotton bra, nothing sexy or even remotely seductive about it.

Not that she wanted to look seductive for Damon! No, absolutely not!

Elena felt a blush creeping up her face and she saw Damon's smirk widen, as if he'd somehow read her thoughts. Involuntarily her hand clasped around the vervain-necklace and, to get a grip, she took another step back and glared at him.

"Damon, do you mind?" She made a small gesture with the towel to indicate that he should go the way he'd come in but Damon merely raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, not at all, please go on!"

"Get out!"

Damon easily caught the towel she'd thrown at him in one hand and didn't move. Elena crossed her arms over her chest and fired another glare his way. Damon's eyes darkened in response, fixed on something that was definitely too low on her body to be Elena's face.

She quickly looked down. Oops! With her arms pressed firmly to her chest like this her boobs nearly spilled out of the small bra. No wonder Damon couldn't tear his eyes away!

Elena's arms fell aside and she spun around on her heels, frantically searching for the blue tank top she knew she'd brought inside with her.

"Looking for this?"

Damon had somehow replaced the towel in his hand with her shirt and now held it out to her. But he didn't throw it and so, in order to take it from his hands, Elena had to move far closer to Damon than she'd liked right now.

His presence was making her feel very uncomfortable and she didn't like it one bit. Damon on the other hand seemed to enjoy it just a bit too much. Elena grabbed the tank top from his hands and quickly pulled it over her head.

"Is there something you need?" Elena pointed towards the shelf next to her where some of Damon's toiletries stood. He'd collected most of his things already but apparently not all.

"Need?" Damon's voice was rough. "Now there's a question."

Elena let out a sigh. "What do you want, Damon?"

"Depends on what you're offering!" The leer in his face was unmistakable and it was enough for Elena. She stomped her foot in frustration.

"Stop putting things into my mouth, Damon! God, why does everything you say have to be laced with some sexual innuendo? I told you before, I'm not interested!"

Damon stared at her intently for about two seconds before his whole posture suddenly relaxed. He took a step back and cocked his head to the side. "We'll see about that, but…" he held up a hand to stop Elena from firing back. "You're right, I didn't come here to… or, well, I did actually. I came to put things into your mouth."

Elena's eyes went round as saucers and Damon nearly choked with laughter. "Not that kind of thing!" He shook his head and added: "I was talking food! But if…"

"Food?"

"Yeah, you didn't have dinner, so I brought you some." Damon shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he turned back to the door and threw over his shoulder: "Come on, before it cools off again."

Elena warily followed the vampire into the bedroom. He hadn't really brought dinner with him, had he?

Well, he had.

A small table had been pulled over to the window so that the windowsill would serve as a seat. There'd even been put a cushion onto the window seat. And the table was filled with a plateful of the deliciously smelling chicken soufflé Elena had missed earlier. A small bowl of salad was placed next to it, complete with two glasses of whine and a bottle of water.

"But," Elena stuttered and threw Damon a surprised look, "when, how… I mean…"

Damon flashed her his boyishly sexy smirk. "Vampire speed, remember? It's good for many things."

"Yeah, so it seems," Elena smiled, suddenly feeling a lot more peaceful towards Damon. Her stomach had been growling earlier and the prospect of enjoying dinner without having to go through the trouble of going downstairs into the empty kitchen and heating up something… it softened her earlier irritation with Damon in the matter of seconds.

"Come on, sit down," Damon motioned for her to follow him to the makeshift dining table. Elena followed silently, too stunned to speak.

"You know," Elena spoke around a mouthful of salad some time later. "I feel slightly underdressed again! Now even more than before."

She'd put a black sweater over her tank top and a soft woolen blanket covered her bare legs as she sat on the window seat, feet tucked under her in a comfortable lotus position. Damon was lounging beside her, stretched out completely. He'd taken off his shoes and socks and his bare feet were now crossed at the ankles. He was resting his head on his crossed arms a few inches from Elena's knee and was looking at her upside-down. Elena thought that his smile looked less malicious like this. But not for long because suddenly his grin widened.

"Underdressed? Is that some kind of backwards way of telling me I look hot? I know!"

"No, I just meant…" Elena weakly pointed first down her body and then to him still wearing his suit.

"To pay me a compliment, it's okay," he shrugged in his typical arrogant way. "I'm used to it."

Something like "I bet you are," jumped to the tip of her tongue but Elena quickly swallowed it down along with the food. It would only boost his confidence and she wasn't sure she could handle that. And besides, Damon was kind of right after all.

"Well, okay," she shrugged instead. "I have to admit, you do look good in a suit." And before Damon could reply anything Elena added with a glint in her eyes: "Especially relaxed like this. You look… normal, you know? Nothing like the self-serving psychopath I know you really are."

"Ouch," Damon put a hand to his non-existent heart. "You wound me, Elena."

"No, I didn't," Elena watched Damon abandon his relaxed position. He quickly sat up and looked at her. "I'm sure nothing I'd ever say could really hurt you. Everything seems to just, I don't know, bounce off, doing no harm at all."

Damon stared at her, his gaze intense and thoughtful, before he reached for his glass of whine without commenting. He saw Elena shrug and take a sip of whine herself and he knew, deep down inside, that she was wrong.

She had no idea but Elena was perhaps the only person in the world, the only human, with the power to truly hurt him. But she didn't know that, or at least she didn't believe it yet, and Damon had every intention of keeping it that way.

Elena watched Damon's face for a while. There was something in his eyes… if it had been anyone else she would have called it… caution. But Damon and caution… Elena knew that these two didn't go together, at all.

Damon was perhaps many things; smug, sarcastic, devilish being the first attributes that came to her mind. But cautious wasn't anywhere near being a possibility. It just wouldn't fit in her head.

The silence that had fallen over them felt surprisingly comfortable and it was only broken by the soft noise of Elena's fork scraping over the plate from time to time and her chewing. While she was busily shoveling the food Damon simply watched her and drank his whine.

"Ooof, I think I've had enough," Elena sighed after a while and put the empty plate onto the table.

She closed her eyes and leaned backwards to let her head rest against the cool window. Her stomach felt happily full again and she was secretly glad for the lack of restricting clothes around her middle. If she'd worn jeans she knew she'd have to open the first button by now. The sleeping shorts she was wearing under the blanket thankfully had an elastic waistband.

"That was really great, Damon."

Damon only send her a pleased-with-himself smile but didn't respond.

"Were did you learn how to cook anyway?" Elena threw a curious look towards him. "Since, you know, you don't eat."

Damon seemed to contemplate the question for a second, maybe pondering how much of himself he should reveal to her, but then he shrugged.

"Italy."

"Italy?" Elena raised an eyebrow and waited for him to go on.

Damon turned his head and looked out of the window into the night. "A couple of decades ago. I think it was in the early 1920'th, a few years after World War I. Anyway," he looked back to Elena again. "I stayed in Florence for a while and, there was this guy, Alessandro. He owned a restaurant and I spent a lot of time there, so he started teaching me."

"Why?" Meeting Damon's questioning gaze Elena quickly went on: "I mean, I take it he was human, right? Why did you spend so much time with him? Enough for him to show you how to cook? You don't seem to be interacting much with humans, at least not in the long run. I always thought you put up with us stupid humans only to… you know."

Damon let out a low chuckle. "You mean to feed?"

"Yeah, that or, you know, for sex." Elena had trouble fighting a blush. She didn't know why, she wasn't a prude and usually she didn't have a problem talking about sex. But, talking about sex with Damon… that felt weird somehow. Especially when he kept sending her these intense looks. Like he was doing now.

"I didn't have sex with him if that's what you're fishing for," Damon smirked. "Sorry to disappoint, Elena, but this isn't one of those stories. Of course, I could tell you about the times I…"

"What? Eww, no," Elena's face scrunched up. "Thanks. I don't think I wanna know, ever."

"No? Not up your street?" Damon's eyes shone with glee. "Two hot guys getting it on… or, in my case, one extremely hot vampire and one good-looking enough guy."

"Stop it! Or you'll damage me for life!" Elena cried and playfully slapped Damon on the arm. "I don't think I'll ever get rid of the picture you just put into my head, Damon!"

"Am I naked in it? Then it can't be that bad."

"Tell me more about the time you spent with this guy Alessandro," Elena tried to change the subject. Damon seemed to be in an unusual nice mood tonight, he seemed more open for some reason, and Elena had long since wanted to learn more about his past.

Not about the evil things he'd obviously done, she didn't care to hear about how many people he'd killed in his long life. But, she was interested in how he'd spend the many years, the places he'd been to, the things he'd seen… Elena thought that she'd probably learn more about history from him than she'd ever find in a textbook. And if Damon was willing to share…

"So, he owned a restaurant in Florence," she tried to coax more from Damon by sending him an encouraging smile. "Aaaand…? How did you two meet?"

"Technically I met his daughter first," Damon smirked and Elena rolled her eyes in response. She should have known, of course.

"She was this sweet little girl, barely fifteen, and of course she fell madly in love with me the minute she met my irresistible self."

"Of course," Elena injected mockingly.

Damon raised an eyebrow as if daring her to prove otherwise. Then he went on: "I think her name was… Margarita, yep, that's it. She had eyes like almonds and beautiful long red locks. Her skin was like the finest porcelain, white and creamy, and her scent was like…"

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'apricots' or 'yellow plums' or anything like that I'm out of here, you know?" Elena stated dryly.

"What?" Damon stared at her in utter confusion.

"The Plum Girl? From The Perfume?" Elena shook her head in mock-disgust. "You just sounded like that creep Grenouille who murdered countless red-haired girls for their scent."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's a book, Damon!" Elena let out an exasperated sigh. "We read it in class a while ago. It's about this guy in France, 18th century I think, and he murders all this girls because he wants to possess their scent. The book's full of descriptions of this apricot-scent and all that. I don't remember the details but," she stopped and sent Damon a knowing smile. "I remember the guy was eaten in the end. By humans."

"You read that kind of stuff in class?" Damon frowned disapprovingly. "No wonder kids these days all go crazy. What happened to the good old classics? Blake, Byron, Chandler, Shakespeare? Ever heard of any of them?"

"Have you?" Elena shot back.

"Didn't I just point that out by throwing their names at you? I've had my share of literature, believe me. Although instead of spending the years hiding in a dark corner, brooding over books and sprouting stupid poetry like my boring brother," Damon flashed her a smirk, "I was out there, enjoying life!"

"Yeah, I can definitely see you enjoying life," Elena stated more to herself. Damon of course heard it. "Yep, I especially enjoy taking the life of others."

Elena noticed that Damon's voice suddenly lacked the mocking, playful tone in which he normally spoke. Especially when talking about killing people. Usually he'd make fun of everything but now Damon's voice sounded somber, even remorseful maybe. But that couldn't be, could it? Damon Salvatore didn't know the meaning of remorse, let alone feel any. He'd said so himself, once, standing over Vicky's dead body.

Elena silently eyed him for a long time, trying to figure out what was going on behind those cerulean eyes that normally sparkled with mirth. Finally she whispered: "Is that what you did to that girl in Florence as well? And her father Alessandro? Take their lives?"

Damon's head spun around and he shot her a closed-off glare. "What do you think?"

"I think there's more to it than that."

Damon lowered his gaze and stared at his hands instead. She was right, as always. How could it be that she knew how to read him so well?

A small hand suddenly covered his and gave it a comforting squeeze. Damon stared at it in shock. Then his eyes slowly met hers, brown pools full of gentle understanding.

"Tell me," Elena whispered in that low voice that Damon had rarely heard directed at him. She'd always reserved it for his brother. He gulped and looked down at their joint hands again.

"You wanna know how I killed them both?" His voice was rough and he had to clear his throat. "And his wife as well? After they'd treated me like family for six months because they thought I'd marry the girl? Is that what you wanna know?"

"No," Elena released Damon's hand he felt the loss immediately. "Not how. I wanna know why. I wanna try to understand."

"What's there to understand?" Damon tried to get his voice back under control. He went for flashing Elena a malicious smirk, complete with black eyes and a hint of fangs, but he knew it came out wrong. Strained. "I screwed with the girl, fed on her too of course, played the perfect son-in-law for six months, got bored, so I started screwing the mother as well. Alessandro found out, wasn't too pleased, so I killed them all. End of story."

Elena stared into the dark orbs, took in the hint of black veins surrounding them, the flash of sharp teeth between slightly parted lips… and wondered about the amount of hurt behind the mask.

Those people had to truly have meant something to Damon if he only managed to talk about them while hiding behind his vampire cover.

Without feeling a ounce of fear Elena placed a hand onto Damon's cheek. "If only it were that easy, huh?"

Damon's cheek burned. His fangs retreated and his eyes changed back to their usual blue color, shock and bewilderment clearly visible for once. He couldn't believe it. How could she not be appalled? Disgusted? She wasn't even afraid!

This wasn't right! Elena's touch nearly made him lower all his barriers for her, it almost made him want to...

Elena felt a sudden gust of wind and then Damon was gone from the seat beside her. She looked up in shock.

"Wait!" she cried out, desperate to stop him from bolting. Her eyes flew to the other end of the room where Damon suddenly stood, one hand on the open door, staring back at her as if he wasn't sure what had made him stop in his flight. But whatever it had been, he didn't seem to like it one bit. He looked angry.

Elena closed her eyes briefly. The moment was gone, she knew that nothing she'd say would make him come back. The defensive walls were back up again. She lowered her head in regret.

"Thank you for the dinner," Elena stated softly, sure he'd hear.

When she looked to the door again Damon was gone. "Goodnight, Damon."

Elena thought she'd heard the faintest reply.

"Goodnight."

TBC

See? I'm not always leaving you with evil cliffhangers. Hope you liked the bit about Damon's past that I made up. Let me know.