I have the best readers. Thank you people, for writing such supportive and encouraging reviews. Here's an extra-long chapter. xoxoxoxoxo

Elena woke the next morning a bit more clear-headed, but certainly no closer to answering any of her questions.

Having never been one to hide her head in the sand to avoid uncomfortable truths, as she showered and brushed her teeth she gave herself a stern talking-to.

"Okay, so it's obvious that you've developed feelings for Damon. It's not advisable, clearly, but it's totally understandable, given the circumstances."

Even just admitting that truth to herself made her feel as though a huge weight had been lifted from her chest. What did it mean to her, though?

"Nothing," she insisted firmly. "In the end, it can mean nothing. Because Stefan is going to come home, and betraying him like that would be completely inexcusable. It would make you no different than Katherine."

Stefan deserved better from her than that. And having Stefan around again would make it much easier for her to remember all of the wonderful things about their relationship that were worth saving.

Not to worry, her cruel brain reminded her, because not only will Stefan be here, but Damon will be gone and you won't have to put up with the temptation anymore. The next time you see him you could be an old woman, if you ever do see him again.

She was suddenly overcome with the same sense of panic that had prompted her outburst in the study the night before. The thought of never seeing Damon again, never talking to him...

...never knowing what might have been...

Elena shook her head. This line of thinking was going to drive her out of her mind.

"It is time," she said, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and speaking aloud to keep her fickle thoughts from wandering, "to stop living in stupid teenaged fantasies, enslaved to your hormones, and start acting like a decent person. Damon is not for you. You are not for Damon. The sooner you accept this, the sooner he will, and the sooner everything will go back to normal. If Damon wants to go away for a while, that is his business, and you are not going to throw a tantrum about it like some sort of petulant five-year-old. He has gone above and beyond the call of duty for you, and you do not need to pay him back by being an ungrateful, greedy child. End. Of. Story."

It was time to forget this infatuation with her own unlikely Lancelot before she broke Stefan's heart and ruined her reputation over it. It was reasonable, sensible, and the right thing to do. She sounded confident enough as she said the words... and as she walked back out into the bedroom and dressed herself for school, she almost believed them.

A little while later, dressed for school and in dire need of a cup of coffee Elena stood at the threshold of the bedroom and hesitated. What on earth was she going to say to him when she saw him? The way they'd parted the night before...

Oh well, nothing to be done for it, she thought. I can't stay in here forever. Swallowing her nerves she held her head high and walked downstairs, only to find her bravery unnecessary. Damon was nowhere to be found.

She did find that the coffee had been brewed on an automatic timer so it was piping hot and filled the kitchen with a warm, homey smell. There was also a large white box on the kitchen table. The obvious peace offering made her smile, and she went to fill up her favorite mug, which was waiting for her next to the coffee pot. When she picked it up she found a piece of paper tucked beneath it, folded, with her name written on it in elegantly old-fashioned cursive. As she read the contents of the incredibly brief note she marveled over Damon's ability to pack so much subtext into a few seemingly innocuous phrases.

I think I'm onto something- might be gone for a few days.
I probably won't have cell or internet access. You'll have to manage without my dulcet voice for a bit.

In the past few weeks she'd been learning Damon-speak, growing to understand how hard it was for him to express his real emotions and how he used his mocking sense of humor to guard himself against pain and rejection, and so she knew that what he actually meant was, "You're probably not going to hear from me for a bit, try not to worry."

Don't stress out about my abrupt departure, I didn't want to disturb your beauty rest.

That meant, "I'm not running off because of last night, but I wasn't ready to face you yet, either."

Ric is coming to bring you to school since your car is at home.
If you stop going to school I will KNOW. If you skip your prom, I will KNOW.
Don't forget the deal.

It was signed simply, D.S. Her stomach flipped in excitement and anxiety. His idea from last night must have panned out, and for him to have left immediately made her think the lead must be hot. She didn't know whether to be more annoyed at him for leaving without explaining further, concerned for his safety in an unknown place without his phone or a computer, or pissed that he'd already stuck Alaric on her tail to ensure she kept up her end of their deal. Nice to know he hadn't lost the power to irritate her.

Curious despite herself, Elena went to the table with her coffee and started to investigate the large white box that had apparently been left for her. Written on the lid, again in Damon's hand, was simply the phrase, No Excuses. She had no idea what that meant in Damon-speak. Rather, she had no idea until she looked inside.

She gasped in shock as she opened it. There, wrapped in tissue paper, she found an absolutely stunning vintage evening gown in champagne colored satin that looked like it should have belonged to Elizabeth Taylor, or Ingrid Bergman, or some other movie star from the days of black-and-white. Elena was completely certain she'd never laid her hands on an article of clothing so beautiful, or so expensive. He couldn't possibly expect her to wear this to a high school dance, could he?

Of course he does, her brain assured her, he knows you haven't bought yourself a dress, so he did it himself. And you can bet he'll be damned pouty if you don't wear it, take stupid prom pictures in it, and like it.

There was more. Underneath the soft ripples of fabric she found a pair of elegant and tasteful t-strap heels as well as a pair of white, opera length, kid gloves. She smiled at the sweetly anachronistic gesture, realizing that the last time Damon went to a dance it was probably called a ball, and that it was probably long enough ago that a woman would never consider attending without gloves.

The most unbelievable thing in the box, though, was the black jewelry case she found tucked in the bottom corner. The box was labled "Victoria Salvatore," so Elena figured it was probably something that had been in the family for a few generations. As she opened it her mouth fell open in complete shock. Glittering against the velvet cushion like a Faberge egg was a heavy, ornate choker made entirely of what appeared to be rubies. She stared at it wide-eyed for a few moments, unable to process that Damon expected her to wear this, as though it was common for teenaged girls to own necklaces that belonged in museums, behind glass, or on the neck of some queen in a fairy tale.

This is how he sees you, she thought, suddenly conflicted all over again, and this is what he thinks you're worth. How on Earth are you going to just let him walk out of your life?

The honk of a car horn startled her out of her reverie, signaling to her that Alaric was outside to drive her to school, so she hastily closed the box, grabbed her book bag, dumped her coffee in a travel mug and headed out the door. Lost in her thoughts, she must have been even quieter than usual on the drive to school, because as Alaric pulled into his space in the faculty parking lot he turned to her and said very frankly, "So, I'm sorry to say it's concerned not-quite-parent time. Wanna tell me what's up? You look lost, Elena."

She shrugged. She didn't want to burden Alaric with her emotional drivel.

"It's kind of girl stuff."

"I've known a few girls in my life."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Try me. We have a few minutes."

Taking him at his word Elena decided to go with the truth. She told him how amazing Damon had been to her since Stefan's disappearance, how he was in love with her, how she was hopelessly confused about what to do about it. She left out the more scandalous details like how her burning desire to fuck Damon was making her crazy, but she did explain a bit of how torn and ambivalent she felt about how to deal with him as well as her distress over his impending travel plans.

Ric listened patiently to her until she had gotten it all off of her chest, waiting until she finished to respond.

"Sometimes I forget you're just barely eighteen," he said a little sadly.

"Sorry," she blushed. "I figured you wouldn't really want to deal with all this. But I can't talk to Bonnie because she barely even tolerates Damon now, when he's behaving like a saint, and I can't really talk to Caroline because she can't keep her mouth shut under the best of circumstances... I know it's stupid."

Alaric shook his head, "No. Not stupid. You're just young, Elena, and you're in a very unique and unprecedented sort of situation. This would be hard for someone with decades of relationship experience to navigate. You're allowed to not know what you want."

"Not if I hurt Stefan and Damon because of it."

"They're big boys, Elena. If they're going to choose to be in love with an eighteen year old they have to know what they're getting into. They both forget when they're busy being hard on you that they have one and a half centuries of dealing with their feelings under their belts already."

"They suck at it."

"Your words, not mine." He grinned.

"Well... what would you do?" she asked him.

He looked at her for a long moment, searching her eyes for something. Finally he spoke.

"I... am not a parent. I am definitely not your parent, and I am probably not a fantastic role model. But you're stuck in the middle of this situation and you spend your whole life having to act like an adult, so I'll be damned if I'm going to treat you like a child. What I would say to one of my closest friends in this situation is: I can't decide this for you, I can only encourage you to make the most well-thought-out choices you possibly can. They're both fundamentally good people, I think... and it's obvious to anyone with eyes that they're both absolutely crazy about you. But they both have issues, Elena, that seriously complicate their lives, and you need to consider that. Most of all, though, you need to think about what is best for you, and what you need to be happy."

"Doing the right thing isn't always what makes you happy," she countered.

"No, but being in love shouldn't make you miserable."

"Since when?"

"Touchee." They smiled at each other then, and he turned off the ignition. She gathered her books and climbed out, and he followed her, locking the car behind them. As they walked he looked thoughtful, wistful, and just before they went inside he hesitated.

"What?" Elena said.

"Just... while you're busy stressing about right and wrong, remember that inaction is a choice, Elena. And know that often it is much easier to live with the things we've done than the things we never did. That's something I have a lot of experience with."

With that he left her and went into his classroom to prepare for first period, leaving Elena on the steps of the school with a lot on her mind.

The days had passed slowly and tediously in Damon's absence, and with no news of him Elena grew increasingly anxious, despite his warning that he wouldn't be able to call for a little while.

Why on Earth had she ever wanted to be normal? Normal sucked. Normal was powerless, helpless, ignorant. She wanted to work some crazy vampire mojo, or witch spell or something, anything to make her feel like she could help at all. Her frustration and worry for both Salvatore brothers threatened to consume her until on the sixth day after he left when she finally got her wish.

Bonnie had met with Lucy's coven, had cast some crazy spells over the empty vial from Damon's bedroom that had held Klaus' blood. That day she wrangled Elena, Tyler, Caroline and Jeremy into Alaric's classroom during the lunch hour and, locking the door and putting a magical ward on it to protect against intrusion, they formed a circle around Elena, the werewolf, the witch, the vampire, and the human all taking hands to cast the final incantation which would give Elena the power of compulsion over the most powerful dark creature in the world. The lights flickered and the air moved around her as Bonnie spoke and her friends chanted their well-rehearsed Latin refrain, and she supposed it must have worked, but when all was said and done she didn't feel any different, didn't feel any more useful or powerful.

What good are crazy powers right now, anyway? she thought petulantly, I still can't do anything to help Damon find Stefan. I still feel like I'm in the dark about the things that matter. I'm still worried sick about the safety of two of the most important people in my life... I still miss Stefan. And Damon.

That is what she had been thinking for the past twenty four hours. Now she sat, as elegant as a queen in her satin gown, on a folding chair, with her gloved hands in her lap, at the prom she couldn't wait to leave.

Matt, who had tried his best to be a good date for the disconsolate Elena, was finally off dancing with a tiny, elfin red head with a heart-shaped face and tousled curls. She was so sweet, so blessedly ignorant of anything that went bump in the night... The way she turned her huge green eyes on Matt in adoration was what he deserved. She was happy for him, especially because she no longer felt like she was ruining his night.

A glance over the dance floor found Bonnie and Jeremy laughing, drinking punch that was very likely spiked, and Caroline arm-in-arm with Tyler greeting the newly crowned prom queen, looking like the quintessential high-class couple from Mystic Falls. Mrs. Lockwood would be proud... until she found out her son and his arm candy were both the types of monsters she'd devoted her life to destroying. The two played their part well; for all Tyler's attempts to come off like an uncouth frat boy most of the time, his years of good breeting and being in the public eye had left their mark and he carried himself with the same quiet confidence his father had displayed. Caroline fit perfectly on his arm, floating like a princess in a sheath of midnight blue silk with her blond hair cascading loose over her shoulders and down her back.

With a pang Elena realized she didn't even know the prom queen's name. A year ago she would have been practically a shoe-in for the crown. Now, here she was, at the dance only under duress, and her ever-faithful Matt had been forced to abandon her for a girl more capable of having fun. What had happened to her? Death. Loss. Grief. Vampires. Everything. Pretending to be normal would never be anything more than pretending, she thought sadly. Elena the cheerleader is gone forever.

Lost in thought, she didn't even hear his approach.

"Hey now," he said behind her, and her ears drank up the sound of his voice like water on the parched desert sand, "nobody puts Baby in a corner."

As she spun in her chair to face him she was glad to be sitting, because the sight of him made her knees turn to jelly. She couldn't have prevented the smile from breaking out over her face even if she'd wanted to. Clad in a black Armani suit and a blood-red button down with French cuffs he looked good enough to eat. And he was home. He was alive. He was all in one piece.

"You're okay," she said, her voice breathy with relief. It soon became tinted with irritation, though.

"Six days!" She scolded, "You could have called! Texted! Something." She reached out a gloved hand to smack him in the chest. He caught the offending limb in his own hand and used it to guide her to her feet.

"I was a little busy," he replied in an amused tone that indicated he was pleasantly surprised she'd been worried about him, "and trying to keep you under the vampire radar. Not as easy as you might think."

Still holding her hand, he took a step back and took a long moment to look her over from head to toe, eyeing his artistic creation with appreciation.

"Almost perfect," he said, "but it looks like you forgot something."

From his breast pocket he produced the velvet jewelry box full of rubies. Elena started shaking her head.

"Damon, those are priceless. I left them home on purpose. They've been in your family for a long time, obviously, and this is just a stupid school dance! If something happened to them..."

"They were made to be worn," he interrupted in a firm voice, "And you are going to wear them."

Something in his tone made her protests die in her throat and she stood perfectly still as he draped the heavy collar of rubies around her throat. She shivered as he fastened it; the jewels were cold against her skin. He stepped back, and she looked up into his face, which was uncharacteristically unguarded.

"Your throat looks amazing in red," he whispered as a flicker of darkness crossed his features. Elena went weak, blushed, and opted not to respond. Then his expression changed, turning wistful and perhaps a little sad.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head.

He shook his head, the open sincerity in his eyes disappearing all of a sudden, replaced by his trademark arrogant, "I know something you don't know" smirk.

"What?" she asked again, more insistently.

With an infuriating grin he took her hand (which she'd forgotten he was still holding) and walked her ceremoniously towards the dance floor, as though it was 1864 and she was a well-bred lady being escorted to a fancy ball. He bowed an invitation and stood still, awaiting her reply. Elena refused to be distracted.

"I will dance with you, but only after you tell me what you're so smug about!"

He rolled his eyes and leaned close to her ear. His proximity made her heart flutter, but the words he whispered almost floored her.

"I found him."

She met his eyes in elation and shock.

"Stefan?" she asked in a whisper. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Jimmy Hoffa, actually," he replied glibly, "I've heard people were asking around about him."

She narrowed her eyes at his mocking.

"Why are we here, then? We shouldn't be at this stupid party if we could be-"

He silenced her with a finger against her lips, and even through her excitement that skin-on-skin contact sent a wave of desire rolling over her. She had to suppress the urge to take that arrogant finger between her teeth and close her lips suggestively around it, just to see Damon's smug expression falter.

"We have plane tickets out of D.C. tomorrow afternoon, and hotel reservations in Hattiesburg tomorrow night, already booked. We are going to get him, but we are going with a plan, full stomachs, and a good night's sleep. Tomorrow we will rescue Stefan, but tonight I need to rest and eat, even if you think you don't. It's been... a trying week. Besides, I believe you promised me a dance."

"You bought me a plane ticket?" she said, still absorbing his words.

"Of course," he said ruefully. "I've given up hope that you'd actually stay home and take care of yourself. Besides, though I hate to admit it, the witch is right. You are our best chance. You need your bags packed by noon tomorrow, ok, Princess?"

Overflowing with gratitude and some alien feeling she supposed was called "hope," she couldn't speak to respond, and instead flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.

He stiffened in surprise, but only for a moment, then his strong arms came up to rest around her waist, pulling her towards him in an embrace that was simultaneously totally chaste, yet brimming with all the unspoken passion between them. After holding her close for about twice as long as was probably socially prudent Damon stepped back, clearing his throat and blinking a few times. Elena took his cue and stepped back herself, smoothing her dress and trying to calm her emotions. This time when he offered her his hand she took it and let him whisk her out onto the dance floor.

Damon's cool, arrogant demeanor and supernatural grace made him the ideal dance partner, and he somehow managed to turn the grating pop song pounding through the stereo into a steamy salsa, twirling and spinning Elena as he moved his body teasingly close to hers, never quite touching it, with skill that spoke of decades of practice and experience. After a few minutes Elena caught his energy and threw herself into the dane, moving her hips to the music and enjoying the feeling of floating that only comes when dancing with an unparalleled partner. She laughed as she realized they were attracting attention. The gyrating and grinding of the rest of her classmates slowed and eventually stopped almost entirely as they watched Damon and Elena move.

After a few minutes Tyler and Caroline joined them, Tyler once again betraying his bad-ass image by knowing exactly how to guide her around the dance floor. Once they had broken the ice a few more confident couples started to trickle out of the woodwork and for a few brief moment the Mystic Falls High School prom was filled with actual dancing and not just the glorified humping that seemed to pass for it these days. Elena felt legitimately happy for the first time all night. This was not a stupid school event. This was a memory worth having.

Elena laughed, free and uninhibited, just from the joy of the moment, and when she lifted her face to meet Damon's eyes she saw him smiling down at her. This was not a conniving smile, a sneaky smile, a sarcastic smile, an angry smile, or a manipulative smile. Damon Salvatore was actually happy, and the fact shone on his perfect face. His pale cheeks were almost rosy from exertion and his hair was tousled from the movements. The sight of his sparkling blue eyes took her breath away as the song came to a close. This boyish carefree face, surely, was what Katherine must have seen in him all those years ago... She held his gaze and tried to commit every detail the sight permanently to her memory.

He grinned at her playfully and dipped her dramatically as the song came to a close, holding her low until the last chord had faded and then picking her up to set her on her feet as if she weighed no more than a child. She grinned back at him, exhilarated, feeling like a princess in her stunning gown and her jewels, on the arm of a dashing gentleman as he walked her back to the edge of the dance floor. Soon they found themselves standing next to an abandoned table littered with handbags and uncomfortable satin shoes, and Elena leaned into the strong frame of his arms; it had been so long since she'd felt so genuinely happy she was reluctant to have him let her go and end this perfect moment.

"Thank you," she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder and inhaling the scent of him. She could feel his delighted chuckle against her own chest.

"What for?" he asked her, and she savored the simple, earnest tone of his voice. She raised her head to meet his eyes.

"For buying me this dress. For making me come here against my will. For showing up and making it not suck. For finding Stefan. For not arguing about letting me come with you to save him. For being an amazing dancer. You know, basically for everything."

He leaned towards her slightly and asked, "What about for being overbearing and heavy handed, for starting fights with your friends, and always deciding what's best for you without asking?"

"Just part of your unique charm," she insisted. "You drive me insane, but I do realize you're just trying to take care of me."

"For tormenting you, for almost killing Jeremy, for being completely unwilling to give up human blood... for trying to turn you into a vampire last month?" His voice was flippant but the words were deadly serious.

She leaned up to whisper her response in his ear, savoring his closeness.

"I already told you. I like you just fine the way you are. All of you, not just the pretty parts."

As she finished speaking she let her lips graze his rough cheek and he turned and leaned into the contact like a cat might have rubbed against her. She froze as a wave of lust washed over her, her lips frozen just centimeters away from his. He too had gone deadly still, so that she could barely feel his breath on her face.

What are you doing? she asked herself, and in that split second she knew beyond all doubt that her choice was already made... because in that moment, the thought of pulling away was like a physical pain in her gut, and she could not make herself do it. Right and wrong didn't matter. Her reputation didn't matter. For a minute even Stefan didn't matter. Everything that mattered to her in the universe was standing right in front of her, and there was no way in hell she was going to let it slip through her fingers.

Tomorrow, she resolved, tomorrow we will go find Stefan. Tomorrow the universe will be "normal" again, whatever that means. Tomorrow I will be a good girlfriend, a good sister, and a good high-school student. Tonight...

"I missed you..." she confessed in a whisper, to herself as much as to him, and her lips were so close they brushed his skin as she spoke, "so... much." She rubbed her own cheek against his then, and smiled because he remained as motionless as a marble statue.

"Elena..." he hissed, tightening his hands on her hips.

"Damon," she replied, her voice steady and sure. She reached up to brush his tousled hair out of his face. He turned his head to meet her eyes, his own uncomprehending and brimming with lust, fangs threatening to emerge. She did not look away. He leaned towards her then, lips parting, as though drawn by some magnetic force against his will. Her heart started pounding in anticipation and her whole body was humming with desire. And then-

"Damon!" Alaric's voice was too-cheerful as he walked up and clapped the vampire on the shoulder with an open palm.

Elena felt completely disoriented, quickly looking away and trying to regain her composure. Damon growled low in his throat, meeting Alaric's eyes with menace and saying, "Not now, Ric. Not. Now."

Alaric looked wary, but his gaze didn't falter.

"Exactly, Damon," he said in a low voice filled with warning. "Not now. Or rather, not here. You know, here? At a school dance? Where you're supposed to be a chaperone? For all of these high school students? Like Elena?"

Damon finally stood down from Alaric, registering what the other man was saying. He did not look happy about it, though.

Oh god, Elena thought, what the hell are we doing?

"Thanks, Ric," she stammered. "I forgot..."

He made a dismissive gesture. "You have a lot on your mind. I think it might be a really good idea if you two went home and talked about some of it. Maybe now-ish, from the look of things."

She blushed, mortified that he could see through her intentions so clearly. Damon looked at her with raised eyebrows, inquiring.

"Yeah," she agreed with Alaric, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Damon, will you please take me home?"

"Home to where?" Once again, his subtext was clear to her. He was giving her the chance to run away.

"Home to the boarding house. With you." She hoped that was the answer he wanted.

He gave her a hard, searching look. She stood her ground. Whatever can of worms she'd just opened, she was planning to deal with it tonight. It might be the only chance she ever had. After a moment Damon conceded.

"Let's go, then."

She told Alaric good-bye with as little awkwardness as she could muster, and they left the school at once. As Damon escorted her to his car with a hand on the small of her back, her heart continued to pound in her throat. What on Earth was she getting herself into? There was still time to undo this, she knew. She could go to bed and let him drink his scotch and when they woke she knew they'd never speak of that moment on the dance floor again, just like that ridiculous strip tease and all the other moments they never, ever mentioned.

"It is much easier to live with the things we've done than the things we never did."

"Damon, wait," Elena said, putting her hand over his as he went to unlock her car door.

"Wh-" he started to speak but was immediately silenced as she took his face between her hands and kissed him.