N: Hey there amazing people of FanFic, I return today before us, with an update for this story you used to like. I hope you are still interested by it, because I still have a couple of chapters left.
Thank you Varelie(2serendipity) for her amazing beta work.
The little things that matter
There was a 'click' sound and the door opened, Damon smirked proudly: it had taken him less than 15 seconds this time. A new personal record for picking a lock. After closing the door behind him with as little noise as possible, Damon stopped in the middle of the large room. He gave himself a few seconds to take everything in, look for anything unusual, anything that might look out of place. It was a beautiful room. Large and very well decorated. It reminded Damon of his father's office. Growing up, he and Stefan used to sneak into his office just because they weren't allowed to. He remembered it as being dark, mysterious and smelling faintly like cigars. Unlike his father's office though, this one was very bright, with enormous windows and a few sun-flowers placed randomly around the room.
He decided to start his 'snooping around' with the huge desk. He advanced towards it and looked over the papers that were carefully arranged on the desk without touching anything. There was today's paper, some bills for electricity and water, and a few blank papers, but nothing unusual. Just when he decided there was nothing worth reading on the desk, he noticed a cut from last week's paper. He pulled out his pen from his chest pocket and carefully pushed the blank pages away so he'd be able to read the article. It was about an arson that had killed two people. Damon didn't think much of it until he saw the name 'Rebekah Mikaelson' as one of the victims. He knew Rebekah. He'd worked with her a few times. Hell, he'd even slept with her on occasion. One thing was for sure, she was one hell of an agent. Had Elena Gilbert somehow managed to kill a CIA agent and make it look like arson? But something was off. Something was missing. He wouldn't expect anyone else to notice, but he'd noticed that Mrs. Elena Gilbert had her own signature: flowers. Every time one of her victims popped up, there were flowers or some sort of plants nearby. He remembered that the guy at the hotel had had a fresh bouquet of flowers in the room. The two guys that were killed in their offices had a new plant, the woman found suffocated in her own bed had a white rose lying next to her on the pillow. Arson didn't seem to be her style, but you never knew of course. He would have to conduct his own investigation on the arson thing.
Taking a seat, he opened the first drawer on his right, but all he found there were a few markers, pens and pencils. Moving on to the second one, he found four agendas but there was nothing written on them but numbers from one to four. In the last one there was just a big pile of A4 blank papers. There were two more drawers on his left and Damon held his breath as he opened the first one. The disappointment continued as he found – what looked like a million – wires and cables. And in the last one, there were a few thick books: two on different kinds of spiders, one on insects and another four books on plants. Nothing unusual for a person that owned a flower shop.
Disappointed, Damon left the room and moved back to the same place Elena had left him just ten minutes before. Another ten minutes passed before Elena and Jeremy both came down the stairs.
They decided to prepare some snacks in Elena's well stocked kitchen and go to the park.
***Target: Love***
"So, how long have you two known each other?" Jeremy asked. He was occupying himself with a huge muffin, without looking at Elena or Damon as he asked the question.
"A few months…"
"A few days…"
They both answered at the same time. Jeremy put the muffin back in its box and looked at his sister. "Why are you always lying to me?" he asked and Elena held her breath. "You lied to me when you sent me back to Isobel. You didn't actually leave with the foundation."
"It was a last minute decision not to go," Elena tried to defend herself.
"Why didn't you call? Why didn't you ask me to come back here? If you don't want me here, just say so!"
"It's not that, Jeremy," she looked at Damon from the corner of her eye. There was no definite expression on his face and Elena didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Do you hate me that much?" Jeremy asked and Elena let out a deep breath. She'd been wondering what her brother was doing here, but now she knew: he'd come to confront her for sending him to their aunt, and for choosing to keep him away from her. Of course he didn't know the danger he would be in if he chose to stay. He didn't know that sending her brother away was the best thing Elena Gilbert had ever done.
"Jer, now is not the time," she murmured. "I promise I will answer your questions some other time."
"And when would that be?"
"Tonight. We'll have dinner, just the two of us. I'll cook," she smiled sweetly, hoping that would be enough to stop her brother from asking questions Elena was in no way ready to answer. What would she tell him? The truth? No, that was not an option. First of all, he would hate her more than he already did, and second of all, he would be in danger evenmore than he already was.
"Come on, pouty, I'll buy you an ice-cream. Give the kid a minute to cool off," Damon said softly. Elena looked up and saw Damon's hand in front of her, waiting. She took a few seconds to decide and finally placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up and guide her towards the gelato-boutique.
"Thank you," Elena murmured into Damon's ear.
"I get it; I have a younger brother too. They can be very…complicated."
"He is not complicated; he just wants answers I can't give," She let out a soft moan as she realized she had let slip much more than she'd intended to. Not under any circumstances could she allow herself to feel too comfortable around anyone. Comfort led to trust, trust led to love, and love led to dependence. Elena Gilbert could live without pretty much anything, but not without her freedom, her independence: that was everything to her. To be able to do whatever she wanted when she wanted.
"Yeah, I got that…"
"Hi, how can I help you?" the girl had to ask twice before Damon paid any attention to her. He was too busy staring at the woman in front of him. He could feel her walls going up again after they had been down for just a few seconds. He could not help but wonder what had happened to her to make her so defensive.
***Target: Love***
"Why so spaced out, brother?" Alaric asked and Damon let out a deep sigh before finally detaching his gaze from the untouched glass of bourbon to look at his friend across the small table.
"I think little Gilbert might know something and I am trying to think of a way to interrogate him without actually interrogating him, if you know what I mean," Damon finally said and Alaric raised an eyebrow at Damon.
"Really? They don't seem that close," he commented, but Damon was sure that if Alaric would have seen them and heard the younger sibling's sarcastic remarks, he would have come to the same conclusion.
"They are not, but if there is someone Elena cares about, it's her brother. I think she pushes him away to protect him."
"If he is pushed away, why would you think he knows something?"
"Just a hunch I have."
"You and your hunches," Alaric rolled his eyes and proceeded to finish the rest of his bourbon. He placed the empty glass on the table along with a 20 dollar bill and got up. "Better find a way to talk to the kid then, because I may not like to admit this, but those damn instincts of yours are never wrong," he said, then he put on his coat and left.
Damon decided to get another drink and stay for a while. Drinking at his favourite bar had always helped him think. Alaric was right about one thing. Damon's intuition had never failed him. He doubted it would start now, but that didn't mean he had to like what it made him do sometimes.
N: Here you go a little chapter in between. I have another one like that coming (a DE one) before we go back to action. Please don't forget to review.
