A/N This was supposed to be different, but the chap dictated things. And I promise, the next chap is the much-awaited, uh, you know.


Damon wakes the next morning, from the restless motion of Elena's hands.

Her nimble, soft fingers are dancing across the planes of his face, tracing his skin with loving tenderness. It's the most cared for that he's felt since his mother died, and he has no idea how he'll adequately communicate that feeling.

Apart from his mother, no one has ever loved him this way, loved him as if the very universe began and ended with wherever he happened to be. It makes him feel cherished, almost unbelievably so.

(It makes him feel needed and important in a way he never thought he would be again.)

Once her fingers find their way to his lips, Damon's hand arrests any further motion. He pulls Elena toward him, her body now resting on top of his. Foreheads almost touching, he racks his brain for what he should say.

(He settles, eventually, for the same words he once found in a book of Pablo Neruda's poetry. The words are painfully lacking, he knows as much, but they will have to do.)

Damon cradles his beloved's face, and the words pour forth. "And when you appear, all the rivers sound in my body. Bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world."

Elena's breath hitches at that, though she has no need for oxygen. The tears spring to her eyes of their own accord, and she's helpless against the onslaught. She can't speak, only look at him as she cries, the salty liquid dripping onto his skin.

Damon's words continue, holding her captive - enslaved even, to love.

"Everything was empty, dead, mute, fallen abandoned, and decayed. Inconceivably alien, it all belonged to someone else - to no one, till your beauty and your poverty filled the autumn plentiful with gifts."

The tears never stop, even though he has already gone silent. Unmoving, Damon is content to hold Elena, to press her against his body, and maybe even die to the world, with her smell all around him. He's happy to soak it all in, to revel in the fact that Elena will always be his. Nothing will change that now, he's sure of it.


When the two of them eventually walk down to the main level of the boarding house, Elena and Damon are clean and fresh from their shared shower. Contrary to expectation, Damon was actually pretty PG, just as he was when he dried her after their time in the tub. Elena thought he would have jumped her then, but he ended up tucking her into bed. It was a new day now, and Damon was still frustratingly gentlemanly.

(Well, gentlemanly for the most part, not counting eight stolen kisses and a few nips on the neck when they were showering. Still, it's a far cry from the flirty Salvatore she's come to know and love.)

"What's up with you today?"

He looks at her, amused. "What do you mean, kitten?"

Elena thinks of what she'll say first. "Why were you so PG last night? I kissed you in the tub. I thought we would-"

His eyes twinkle. "Thought we would what?"

"Nothing." Elena tries to remain neutral, to tamp down on her embarrassment. "Let's just move on to why you were so romantic this morning. Who are you and what have you done with Damon?"

The dark-haired vampire laughs, kissing Elena's hair as he pulls her close for yet another embrace. "Let's just say I want to spoil you for a little while. You know, be a good boyfriend and all."

Boyfriend. It's the most normal word ever. Elena smiles at that, patting Damon's cheek. He seems to like her little action, judging from the contented rumble of his chest. Her heart rejoices in the knowledge that only she can draw such contentment from him, and his wide smile makes her want to cry again.

She changes the subject lest the tears start flowing. "What are we doing today?"

A multitude of options run through Damon's head. They could go out and enjoy the sunshine, or stay in and eat breakfast together. They could also head to the Grill - meet up with the rest of the gang. Damon remembers that no one else knows he's back in town, apart from Elena, Elijah and Stefan.

Another option filters into his mind. This one is infinitely more meaningful. "Do you want to visit Alaric?"

He says it as if Alaric has never been gone, as if the hunter-teacher always been in town, just a little out of sight. Both their hearts clench with sentiment, but for different reasons, each equally as significant as the other one.

For Damon, it's because of friendship.

(He still orders two of everything he drinks, and saves a seat at every bar he's ever been in.)

For Elena, it's family.

(Alaric is the closest to a second father that she's ever had, the man she most likens to her Dad, Grayson.)

"So, are we gonna visit my old buddy?"

Damon's words break Elena out of her momentary stupor. She nods and follows him out.


The two of them settle on the bench near Alaric's headstone, and the first thing Elena notices is the bottle of bourbon settled on top. It's the same bottle that she's always seen when she visits his grave, and she thinks that the source is sitting right beside her. Curious, she looks at Damon. He answers her unspoken question.

"Yes, I'm the one who left that there." His voice is heavy, but calm. "The maintenance staff always clears it though, so I bring him a new bottle each time I visit."

Elena doesn't know quite what to say to that. It's a new revelation for her, in many ways. It means that Damon has been in town, just that she never caught him. (She hates that fact.)

More importantly though, this is a side of Damon she's never fully seen, the side of him that bonded to Alaric. She never really understood the bond between Ric and her vampire. It makes her happy though, to know that two of the most important men in her life more or less managed to be friends.

(Perhaps it was even brotherhood more so than simple friendship.)

She laughs when she remembers how Alaric called Damon when they were hiking in search of Stefan.

"You two ganged up on me back then." At Damon's wondering look, she explains, "You know, the one where we were searching for Stefan, and Ric called you? God, I hated it when you showed up."

He chuckles. "He was right to call me. It was a full moon, Elena. You could have been killed."

Elena exhales a heavy breath, understanding his protectiveness. "It's okay. I get the reasons for your cooperation."

It's Damon's turn to ask her, "Who are you and what have you done with Elena?"

"It's been five years," she says. "When you were gone, I was always with Stefan and Elijah. You know how your brother is, but Elijah was pretty stern. He taught me to see from a lot of new angles, and to understand why we all did certain things. He's been helpful, especially when I was still trying to cope. You have no idea how broken I was during those first few weeks. I wouldn't come out of the house. Stefan thought I'd starve and dessicate."

The admission shatters Damon's heart, and he pulls her close to him, wrapping an arm around her. Kissing her hair, he whispers, "That's over now, Elena. I'm here. I always will be."

"I know that," she says, leaning into him for a second, and then turning to face Alaric's headstone. "Can you believe it, Ric? I ended up with Damon of all people."

Damon talks too. "In my defense, I'm not all bad, ain't that right, buddy?"

Their words are cathartic, and even though they can hear no replies, it's alright. For some reason, they can feel Alaric near them, so the two don't feel stupid at all, talking to someone essentially invisible. Everything grows silent, and Damon kneels down onto the ground.

He sweeps away some dirt on Ric's headstone. Elena does the same, settling beside him. He reaches instinctively for her hand as he speaks.

"You remember the last time we talked, Ric?" he says, recalling that moment when he spoke about Japanese lanterns and them not being Japanese. "All that's different now. And guess what, man?"

Elena waits for Damon's next words.

He takes a breath. His voice is unbelieving, full of wonder. It's as if he is ready to let go of almost two centuries of pain. Almost two centuries of heartbreak. Damon looks down at his friend's grave.

"This time, I got the girl."

His sentence is Elena's undoing. Right in front of Ric, she cries with happiness and hugs Damon as tight as she can. When her tears eventually stop, the two keep on talking to the headstone in front of them, sharing stories until the late morning turns into late afternoon.

Throughout that time, the two never see him, but Alaric is right there, smiling and listening.


When Stefan arrives at the boarding house later that evening, he's surprised that the smell of his home hasn't changed yet. There's none of the telltale arousal in the air, and he wonders where his brother summoned the control to not sleep with Elena. He'd expected that which was why he left, but it seemed the two hadn't gotten to fooling around. He's thankful of course, but now he thinks he'll have to stay at a motel again.

(Elijah did offer too, but he thinks it's just too awkward.)

Elena smiles at him in welcome. "Damon's in the kitchen. He says you wanted dinner."

"I did. We agreed on it."

That sentence makes Elena's smile go even wider. Somehow, this is the relationship she's always wanted the brothers to have - a relationship of acceptance, friendship, peace, and of course, love. Unbeknownst to her, Stefan is thinking something similar.

He sees this as a new chapter for him and his brother, a new beginning which he hopes will culminate in a return to the relationship they had as humans. Back when they were young, everybody always commented that him and Damon were the best of friends, as well as being brothers.

Stefan sees no reason why they can't be like that again.


By the time they walk through the kitchen archway, Stefan observes the difference between Elena's treatment of him and his brother. She had been cordial and friendly to him, of course, but to Damon, she was adoring and tender. He doesn't think she was ever that overt when they were in a relationship.

Silent and seated in one of the chairs, he watches as Elena's hand strokes his brother's cheek, that same hand quickly brought to Damon's lips for a gentle kiss. It's not surprising to him. He's always known his brother to be extremely loving, a trait that grew hidden as his brother hardened over the years.

(Now, Stefan is seeing it come back in full force, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't pleased.)

When Damon raises the spatula to Elena's lips for a taste of the sauce, Stefan finally looks away, focusing on some other point in the vicinity. His eyes land on the coffee maker on one of the counter tops. He doesn't need to see any more. He can already feel how much the two love each other.

It's unmissable. Practically oozing off the pair. As saddening as that is for him, he actually looks forward to dinner with his brother and Elena.


A/N Somehow, this chapter wrote itself and took me in a different direction that I thought. Next chap's the dinner and the actual lemons. Haha. Review!