A few weeks passed without incident.
Rebekah and Katherine returned the unneeded dresses to their original owners, Elena paid for the one she wanted, and then Caroline took it with her to keep it safe, in case Stefan saw it accidentally.
As they reached the beginning of May, Elena arrived home to find Damon alone, surrounded by several power tools.
"Oh God … What are you doing?"
"I'm going to sound-proof the house." Damon answered distractedly. "I'm getting fed up of listening to you and Stefan going at it."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "Me and Stefan? What about you and Katherine? You don't even have the decency to restrict it to the bedroom."
Damon snorted. "Oh, you're saying you and Stefan have never fooled around down here."
"Not while you're in the house!" Elena protested, too used to inappropriate conversations by now to even think of blushing. "I walked in on you three times last week alone!"
"Then you should have knocked." Damon pointed out.
Elena ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "It was the kitchen, Damon! I shouldn't have to knock!"
"Where's Stefan?" Damon asked, changing the subject.
Elena sighed. "He stayed behind at school to finish something. We do still need to graduate, you know."
Damon rolled his eyes. "Debatable. But good, Katherine's out, and I need to talk to you."
Elena gave him a look of mock-surprise. "Damon, are you up to something?"
"When am I not?" Damon smirked. "Seriously, though, Elena, we need to talk."
All humour dropped from Elena's expression and she leaned against the couch. "Go on."
Damon sighed. "Look, I know Katherine apologised to Stefan last November, but … Well, I don't think they've talked since."
"They have." Elena disagreed. "He asked her to distract me, so he could propose, remember?"
"Okay, so they've had small civil exchanges." Damon amended, rolling his eyes. "It's hardly a conversation, Elena. He still hasn't forgiven her, and he won't until they've talked. But Katherine won't take that step – she'll wait for him to."
"Okay …" Elena said slowly. "And?"
"And the longer it takes for that to happen, the more likely he is to snap." Damon finished.
"Ah." Elena muttered understandingly.
"Not that it bothers me whether he snaps," Damon added, "but if things get physical, no one's gonna be happy …"
"Damon …"
"… and if it happens too close to the wedding, they'll never recover from it in time …"
"Damon!" Elena repeated, cutting him off. "I agree with you in principle."
"In principle?" Damon questioned.
"You're planning something." Elena said flatly. "Your motive is sound; it's your method that concerns me. Spill."
"How about we go to Atlanta?" Damon asked.
Elena snorted. "Yeah, because a change of scenery will have Stefan rushing for a heart-to-heart."
"No." Damon set the drill down. "We'll go to Atlanta. They will stay here, and without us around to distract them, they'll have no choice but to talk."
"And when are we doing this?" Elena asked.
"Well, as soon as possible." Damon answered.
"I'm getting married in two months, Damon!" Elena protested. "Graduating in six weeks! I don't have time to go to Georgia!"
Damon gave her a charming smile. "All the more reason to go. Step out of your life for five minutes."
Elena shook her head. "Forget it, Damon. I'm not going to Georgia."
Georgia was inevitable, Elena decided two days later.
As Stefan had said early in their relationship, "What Damon wants, Damon usually gets", and she had long since learned to pick her battles.
Her grades were good enough that she could take a week or two out of school (amazing, really, given everything that had happened over the last two years), and, as for the wedding, there was nothing she couldn't do on the road.
She had just assumed that Damon would wait for her to realise that.
Instead, she had woken up in the front seat of the Camaro, the scenery speeding past her. Unlike the last time this had happened, she didn't spend any time being surprised or scared.
"Pull over, Damon."
"Good morning." Damon greeted cheerfully.
"That's not what I said." Elena growled. "Pull. Over."
With an exaggerated groan, Damon did as she asked, pulling to a stop at the side of the road. "I'm getting an annoying sense of déjà vu. Apparently you're still more fun when you're asleep."
"Don't start." Elena muttered, getting out of the car.
Damon was in front of her in a second. "Don't go running back now."
Elena glared at him. "You didn't have to kidnap me – I would have come willingly."
"In a few weeks, when it'd be too late." Damon finished. "Look, by my calculation, it'll take at least a week for Stefan to get desperate enough to confront her, and we're not going home until he does. We leave now, and we'll be back in Mystic Falls before the 23rd."
Elena had been trying not to think about the upcoming anniversary and, as such, had almost forgotten that it was approaching.
Damon's voice softened. "I figure you'll want to be with Stefan and Jeremy."
Elena sighed, silently conceding his point. "You could at least have warned me." She muttered, pulling her phone from her pocket. "I'm calling him."
Damon sighed, but didn't protest, and she didn't bother walking away from him, knowing that he would eavesdrop anyway.
"Elena? Where are you?"
"On the way to Georgia apparently." Elena answered, rolling her eyes. "Damon's got it into his head that you and Katherine need to talk, and you can't do that with us around."
"So basically, you and Damon have run away together so your fiancé and his girlfriend, who happen to be each other's exes can have an emotional heart-to-heart."
Elena giggled, relieved at the lack of anger in his voice. "Pretty much. Don't worry – I've got a plan."
"A plan?" Stefan asked dubiously.
"Trust me, Stefan." Elena smirked. "We'll be back before you know it. He'll break before you do."
"Whatever you're planning, Lena," Damon said warningly, "it's not going to work."
"My money's on you, love." Stefan told her. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Out of interest, how are you going to break him?"
Elena's smirk grew as she looked at Damon, who was smart enough to look a little worried. "Two words. Wedding cake."
"Seriously?"
Elena rolled her eyes at Damon's outburst. She was amazed he'd held it in until they were in private really. "I know. Six hotels and only one room. At least there are enough beds this time." She muttered, remembering the trip to Denver that had the two of them and Jeremy trying to split two beds between three.
"That's not what I meant, Elena, and you know it." Damon growled. "What was all that about?"
"Damon, I have a wedding to plan, and we need a cake." Elena told him. "Deal with it. If I'm not in Mystic Falls, I have to look around Georgia."
"But five bakeries?" Damon questioned. "Five?"
"Well, before I decide what I want the cake to look like, I need to know what kind of cake I want." Elena pointed out reasonably.
"Sponge, fruit, chocolate." Damon listed. "You have three options, what is so hard about that?!"
"Everywhere makes it differently." Elena said, rooting through her bag. "So we go, we sample, we figure out which one I like best, and that's the bakery that makes the cake."
Damon sighed. "Are you going to drag me to every bakery in Georgia?"
"Well, I wasn't going to." Elena admitted. "Did you pack this bag for me?"
"Yes." Damon responded. "Why?"
Elena zipped it shut. "Because my underwear's in there."
"Well, obviously." Damon said, rolling his eyes.
"I warned you I'd make you pay if you went through my underwear drawer again." Elena reminded him darkly. "So, yes, I am going to drag you to every bakery in Georgia!"
"You're a vampire, Elena!" Damon hissed. "You don't need to eat!"
"The guests do." Elena said. "And you're the one that ordered room service." She added, when there was a knock at the door.
"Why do you need the perfect cake anyway?" Damon asked, opening the door. "It's not the cake you're marrying."
"It's my wedding, Damon!" Elena argued. "I want the perfect cake."
"Lovers' spat?" The maid asked cheerfully, wheeling the cart into the room.
"No, he's my future brother-in-law." Elena said, without looking at her. "He's just being a dick."
"Crap." The woman muttered under her breath. "Do you mind if I get rid of this band-aid in your trash? The manager will kill me if it comes off in the hall."
"Go ahead." Damon said absently. "Elena, you sampled, like, five hundred cakes today, how is there not one you like?"
"There were ones that I liked!" Elena said sweetly. "They just weren't the one that I like." She would have laughed at the disgruntled expression on Damon's face, but the smell of blood had suddenly hit her.
She glanced at the maid, who was dropping her band-aid in the trash can. The cut on her arm wasn't bad, wasn't even producing a lot of blood, but the smell was overwhelming, and Elena felt herself begin to react.
"Damon …"
Any irritation had faded from Damon's face, and he stepped towards the maid, who was watching her face change in frozen horror.
"There is nothing strange about us." He told her flatly. "You took off your band-aid, threw it away, and left. That's it. Now leave."
She nodded blankly and left the room. Damon shut the door and locked it, before pulling a blood bag from his case and giving it to Elena. "Here. Drink."
Tearing the bag open, Elena gulped it down, feeling it spread through her veins, warming her from the inside out.
"Did you feed today?" Damon asked lowly, when she'd finished.
"When you did." Elena reminded him, tossing the bag to one side. "You know that." She was still on edge, her gums aching in a way they hadn't since she first turned.
Her fangs were still extended, her cheeks burning, and her gaze fixed on the door, on the lingering scent of blood.
She could catch up with that woman, easily. Visions of teeth ripping through flesh flashed through her mind, and the demon inside her almost purred with approval.
"Elena," Damon said slowly. "Are you alright?"
Elena's eyes darted from the door to him and back again. "What's happening to me?"
"I don't know, Lena." Damon said, approaching her cautiously. "Tell me what you're thinking."
Elena swallowed hard, blood creeping into her eyes. "I'm still so hungry … I want to feed on her, Damon … I want …"
"No, you don't." Damon seized her shoulder as she made to leave the room. "You don't."
"Let me go, Damon." Elena growled.
Damon shook his head. "No, Elena, you don't want this. I don't want this."
Humanity flickered in Elena's eyes for a second. "The sire bond, Damon." She whispered. "Keep me here. Please!"
"Elena, it would make me very happy if you stayed here." Damon told her, his voice slow and steady. "I want you to stay here and regain control."
But it didn't seem to be working.
With another snarl, Elena broke free from his grip and blurred towards the door. Damon reached it before she did, slamming her against the wood, his hand gripping her throat.
"Enough!"
When she continued to fight him, he allowed the blood to seep into his own eyes, the veins in his face popping.
"Stop. I am older, Elena, the kill is mine."
For a second, there was a tense stand-off, but slowly the demon within Elena bowed to her elder with a grumble, retreating back inside her.
Her face began to relax, and she crumpled as the first sob racked her body. Quickly looping an arm around her, Damon led her over to one of the beds so she could sit down.
"What happened?!"
"I don't know, Lena." Damon murmured, stroking her hair. "I don't know. Do you want me to take you home?"
Elena shook her head. "Not now, not like this. It's bad enough thinking I could attack a stranger, but what if that had been Jeremy? Or Matt? Why am I suddenly losing control again?"
Damon shook his head, his mind racing. "The sire bond didn't work." He murmured. "It must have broken."
"When?" Elena asked, beginning to calm down. "I didn't feel it."
"Well, you wouldn't." Damon conceded. "We've been managing it too well. But … What if it broke, because you're mad at me?"
"I'm not that mad at you." Elena muttered, wiping her eyes.
"You're mad enough to go against what I want." Damon pointed out, handing her a tissue. "Even if it is about something as dumb as cake."
"Cake is not dumb!" Elena protested. "I happen to like cake."
Damon sighed, not letting her change the subject. "Elena, I think this my fault. I may not have said it out loud, made a conscious decision not to, actually, but I wanted you to have control, and subconsciously you knew that. I think the sire bond may have influenced your control somewhat."
"So what now?" Elena asked nervously. "I lose it? Go on a killing spree?"
"Elena, I'm hurt." Damon frowned. "Do you really think I'd let you do that? Maybe we should go back …"
"No!" Elena repeated. "Damon, I can't risk it! Besides, this is the one shot we have of getting those two talking again, and you're right – it does need to happen before things get even more awkward."
"Alright." Damon agreed. "But I'm calling Stefan." He received no argument, and released her in favour of stepping into the bathroom for some privacy, dialling Stefan's number as he did so.
"Hello?"
"I have good news and bad news." Damon told his brother by way of greeting.
"Why do I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this?"
Damon grimaced. "The sire bond's broken."
Stefan waited for a few moments, before asking, "Is that the good news or the bad news?"
"Both. Seems that the sire bond was at least partially responsible for Elena's oh-so-immaculate control. The maid had a cut and Elena nearly tore her apart. Had to physically hold her back."
"Crap. What …?"
"Here's what's gonna happen." Damon interrupted. "Elena and I are going to stay where we are. She doesn't want to go back to Mystic Falls in this state in case she eats someone she cares about, which I think we can agree would be marginally worse for her than a complete stranger."
"Maybe I should come out and help."
Damon snorted. "You help someone control human blood? Talk about the blind leading the blind. Look, you handle stuff in Mystic Falls, try and make some kind of peace before the wedding, and let me look after Elena. I sired her, Stefan, even if it was unwittingly. She's my responsibility."
"And she won't feel as bad if something goes wrong around you." Stefan finished. "I know. Last thing she needs is to be worrying about how it's going to affect me."
"Exactly." Damon agreed. "So get to it. With any luck, this'll distract her from torturing me with cake."
Stefan chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't count on it, brother. Not for one second."
