Seated on the floor beside the coffee table with her legs curled beneath her, a pencil in her hand, and a stack of blank paper she had found in a desk at her elbow, Elena studied the documents of the court hearing and the autopsy report. Damon had given her a list of people who had last seen Katherine before she died.

Damon sat on the sofa beside her, watching her and carefully suppressing his smile at the absurd notion of Elena being able to succeed where the PD department had failed. Clad in navy lace trim camisole and a pair of dark blue jeans, with her long hair gathered at the nape and bound with a rubber band, she looked more like an enchanting high school girl than an attorney, and she bore absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to any detective, real or imaginary. Sunlight streamed in from the windows behind her, gilding her shiny hair with russet, highlighting her glowing skin and vivid colouring. She interrupted his pleasurable contemplation of her profile by turning her almond eyes up to his and saying in a puzzled voice, "I thought it was strange for Elena not to turn up to the Back to School Party. Why would she go to the woods?"

"The Back to School Party is held at the backyard of Mystic Falls High School which is close to the woods," Damon said, reluctantly turning his attention to the business at hand. "Katherine was planning to go to the Bonfire but somehow she went to the woods."

"Why would she do that?"

He shrugged. "Who knows?"

"You found Katherine in the woods early in the morning."

"That's right."

"And you found Gregor Bradley next to her."

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

He hesitated, and then said, "She was covered with blood. It was in her hair, on her clothes, everywhere."

Elena had heard jaded homicide detectives discussing gory murder sites with more emotion. Damon's voice was hollow and monotonous, but his features were stark with pain. "Her eyes were still open."

"What time was that?" she asked huskily.

"When I found her?" She nodded, finding it difficult to speak. "Dawn. Around six-thirty."

"Gregor Bradley was next to her?"

Damon nodded.

"Why was he in the woods?"

"Gregor had no place to stay. He normally wandered in the woods."

Elena opened a file and withdrew a sheaf of papers. "I had read the transcript of Gregor Bradley's hearing, and I can't understand what the rush was."

"What do you mean?"

"Gregor Bradley was arraigned on a charge of first-degree murder and held without bail in the Mystic Falls jail. His competency hearing was held three days later."

"I can't see any problem to that. Maybe Judge Tanner saw no need for a postponement."

"But don't you think it was odd for him to make the ruling so hastily? Why did Gregor Bradley kill Katherine? What was his motive?"

"Gregor was mentally retarded. Who knows what he was thinking at that time?"

"I know that most people in town merely tolerated Gregor. Did Katherine dislike him as well?"

Damon shook his head. "No. In fact Katherine was nice to him. Gregor latched on to her, in a pathetic way. I saw him as a nuisance, the way he followed her around like a devoted little puppy."

"Were you jealous?"

"No! Of course not. Why would I be jealous of a mentally retarded person?" Damon countered dryly.

Elena shrugged, trying hard to suppress a grin. "Who knows? Don't forget you were obsessed with Katherine at that time."

"Don't try to tease me, Counsellor," he said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, fine. Do you think Gregor Bradley liked Katherine?"

"I figure that Gregor mistook her kindness for a deeper emotion."

She read through the papers. "According to the hearing, he followed her into the woods that night and, tried to force his attentions on her." She looked up. "And when she rebuffed him, he couldn't handle the rejection, so he stabbed her twenty times."

"It's not impossible. Gregor probably turned violent because Katherine rejected him."

"I don't believe that. The attending psychiatrist from the mental hospital said that Gregor Bradley was a model patient. He never demonstrated any violent tendencies. He had no apparent sex drive, and in the doctor's expert opinion, he was incapable of committing a crime that could cost Katherine's life."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't think Gregor killed Katherine. He always wandered in the woods. Somehow, he was there at the wrong time."

"Alright. If your assumption is correct, then why did Katherine go to the woods?"

"To meet the man who could take her out of Mystic Falls," Elena said slowly. "And she didn't want to be seen with whoever she met there."

His smooth forehead furrowed into a frown, and she said, "What's wrong?"

"The man Katherine was going to meet could be the man who damaged your brake."

Elena winced at the thought of it. "Do you think he killed Katherine? But why? Who is this man?"

"He is from this town since he knows you are here to investigate Katherine's case."

"Besides the three of you, was Katherine close to other boys? Did she have a boyfriend?"

"I wasn't aware Katherine had a boyfriend officially. But since she was sleeping with Klaus, it was possible she was seeing someone else at the same time."

"You are right," she answered bluntly.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude…"

"I understand, Damon." She reassured him. "You were with Vicki that night. Klaus was in Richmond." She drew a long breath and said quietly, "Stefan."

Damon's eyes widened. "What?"

"Where was Stefan that night?"

"Stefan didn't kill Katherine." He stood up. "He wouldn't kill her."

"Damon, please calm down." She rose from the floor. "I'm not saying Stefan killed Katherine. But you can't ignore the fact he is a suspect."

"What do you mean?"

"Stefan was hurt because Katherine didn't want him. Could she have done or said anything to him to make him hate her so much that he wanted to kill her?"

"It doesn't sound very likely," Damon said. "Stefan would never hurt her."

"Jealousy can make people do crazy things."

"I didn't kill Katherine."

Both Damon and Elena jumped at Stefan's voice. He walked into the living room and stood in front of them. "I didn't kill Katherine."

"Where were you that night?" Elena asked.

"I was at the Bonfire. But after a while, Matt and Tyler suggested to have a drink somewhere else."

'Matt and Tyler?"

"Matt Donovan – Vicki's brother," Damon answered. "Tyler is Richard Lockwood's son. They were in the football team."

"Okay. So where did the three of you go?"

"We went to this bar out of town. I don't remember. It was fifteen years ago," Stefan said. "I was drunk that night. By the time I gained consciousness, I was already in Tyler's house. According to Matt, Tyler's mum came to pick us up because the three of us were too drunk to drive safely."

"Where is this bar? Can you remember the address?" she asked Stefan.

"Hey, Counsellor, you think Stefan is lying about this?" Damon sounded annoyed.

"No. But I have to make sure," she answered. Damon looked at her sharply. "I can't afford to make any mistake. I have to cover every detail."

"I understand," Stefan said. "I can't tell you the exact address but it is about thirty minutes' drive from here. I have heard from Tyler that Klaus loves to hang around in that bar."

x x x

When she stepped inside the bar, Elena was tempted to turn and run, but remembering what had taken her there, she walked boldly to the bar. The music was loud. There was a group of people dancing in the centre of the bar.

Taking her glass of wine with her, she moved to a booth and slid into the bench that would afford her the best view of the room. Sipping self-consciously, she let her gaze move from one face to another, trying to figure out whether Klaus was among them. Klaus and Katherine had been to this bar previously. Maybe she could get some information here.

Then, to her horror, she realized that some of the men took her close scrutiny of them as encouragement. Suddenly, someone propped against the back of the padded bench across the table from her and smiled down as he tilted a long-neck beer bottle to his lips. "Hello, beautiful."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Klaus?"

"Do I know you, dear?" Klaus asked, slurping another draft of beer.

He must have drunk a lot, Elena thought.

"Klaus, I'm Elena."

"Elena?" Klaus leaned closer. "Oh, Elena. I'm sorry. I didn't expect to see you here."

"You come here a lot?"

"I like it here." He tossed the beer down. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?"

"Yeah, dance." He took her glass and laid it on the table then led her through the bundle of dancers to the middle of the floor. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, "Katherine loved to dance."

"Katherine?"

"I used to bring her here. She loved it." He held her suffocatingly close and pressing her into his body. His breath was hot and all Elena could smell were alcohol fumes. "You smell good."

"I think you have too much to drink tonight." She planted her palms on his chest to push him away, applying only a little pressure for fear she might push him over.

'You smell like her. You smell like Katherine," he said huskily. "I miss you, Katherine."

"You are drunk, Klaus…" His next move took her completely by surprise as his mouth crashed down on hers.

Elena struggled to pull away from him. "Let go of me, Klaus." She tore her mouth away from his but Klaus tightened his arms around her. His lips descended to slide along her neck and down to her collar. "Stop, Klaus…."

"I miss you, Katherine. I miss you so much," he whispered against her throat before he captured her mouth again.

Out of a sudden, someone pulled him off Elena and flung him to the floor. Someone screamed. Everyone stopped dancing. Every head in the room had turned.

"You bastard!" Damon growled as he pulled Klaus up from the floor. His teeth clenched and he hissed harshly, "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Damon, stop. He is drunk." Elena clutched his shoulders with desperate hands. "I'm okay. Let him go."

Damon released his grip on Klaus and turned his attention back to Elena. "You sure you are okay?"

She reassured him. "I'm fine."

'Let's get you out of here." He put his arms around her shoulders, turned her smartly around, walked out of the bar and shoehorned her into the front seat of his car before she could say another word.

Elena could sense Damon's anger when they reached his house. His eyes were blazed with fury. The sensuous smile was gone. In their place was a thin, grim slash of a mouth set in a granite-hard chin.

"You are mad, aren't you?" she said as she stepped inside the house.

He slammed the door behind him. "Of course I'm mad. What are you thinking?" he roared. "Going to a bar alone. You could get yourself into trouble."

"I'm fine. Nothing happened."

He took a step closer. "Nothing happened? You wouldn't say that if I didn't turn up."

Elena folded her arms across her chest. "Klaus was drunk. I could handle it myself."

"Handle it yourself? How?" he shot back. "How are you going to handle it yourself? By going to bed with Klaus?"

Rage surged through her. "I'm going to bed."

She brushed past him, hurrying for the stairs. But Damon was faster. Before she reached the stairs, she was hoisted off her feet with one arm and thrown over his shoulder.

"You are not going anywhere, lady," he said smugly as he walked up the stairs towards his bedroom with her draped over him.

"Damon, let go of me!" she screamed and wriggled.

"Stop kicking unless you want me to drop you on the floor," he warned.

She stopped fighting until he reached his bedroom. He lowered her down his body slowly until her face was level with his, her feet touching the ground, his chest firm and warm against her.

And then she was in his arms, clinging wildly, his lips against her throat.

"I was so worried when I didn't see you here this evening," he whispered urgently against her neck. "I knew you must have gone to the bar Stefan mentioned last night. You shouldn't have gone there alone."

"It's okay," she said into his mouth. "Everything is okay."

"Are you sure you are alright?"

"I will be soon."

"Did Klaus hurt you? I ought to kill him…"

She pulled his head down and melted her lips onto his before he could finish the sentence. He groaned and pulled her closer to him. She moaned, moving her hands up in his hair to hold on to him as he lifted her and secured her against his body, their tongues lapping and circling slowly. He took her to the bed, laying her beneath him, her hands placed above her head.

He released her mouth and sat up, leaving her hot, dazed and panting short, sharp breaths.

"Damon…"

"Promise me you will never ignore your own safety."

"I promise you," she whispered.

He stepped back to undress himself and grabbed a condom before he crawled back on the bed. 'I can't lose you, Elena."

"You won't." They spent a few silent moments gazing at each other before his lips fell to hers, instantly catapulting her to Central Damon Cloud Nine – her most favourite place in the universe.

He removed her clothing with practiced skill and maddening leisure, frequently stopping to nibble and caress. Her arms found his shoulders and accepted his weight as he buried his face in her neck and sighs, his raging arousal thumping lightly against her thigh. She shifted her hips so it fell to her opening.

"You make me so crazy mad, lady." He breathed into her neck, lifting himself and slowly driving into her on a stifled moan. Elena whimpered, gripping every muscle around him. "Please don't do that again." He reached down and snaked his arm under her knee, pulling it up to drape her leg over his hip before bracing his upper body on his forearms. Slowly, he withdrew and lazily worked his way in again, his eyes fixed on her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, circling her hands in his hair.

He pulled back, driving forward on a moan. "Elena, everything I do, I do to keep you safe. Please listen to me."

Elena moaned on another deep, delightful plunge. "I will," she confirmed, but she was aware she was raging with pleasure and, he could make her say anything he wanted. She didn't need keeping safe – except, perhaps, from him.

He gazed down at her. "I need you." He looked despondent, throwing her out completely. "I really need you, baby."

She was mindless on pleasure, totally swallowed up by him.

"Why do you need me?" Her voice was broken and husky.

"I just do. Please, don't ever leave me." He plunged forward again, enticing a collective moan.

"Tell me." She groaned, clenching at his shoulders, but ensuring she kept eyes fixed on his.

"Just accept that I need you and kiss me."

Elena looked up at him, torn by her body's need for him and her brain's need for information. He was leisurely working his way in and out of her at the dreamiest pace, gradually encouraging another build-up of pressure to begin. She couldn't control it.

She pulled his face down to her, worshipping his wonderful mouth, as he sinked in and out, rolling his narrow hips each time. The mechanical tense of her body set in as her pleasure peaked and she started to wobble on the edge of release, short sharp breaths escaping as she tried and reigned in her impending climax.

"Not yet, baby," he warned softly, grinding hard on another drive forward.

She clawed her fingers into his shoulders, a wordless signal that she was tipping the edge. He groaned, biting her lip and jerking forward.

"Together," he mumbled against her mouth. She nodded her acceptance as he increased his strokes and carried them both closer to ultimate ecstasy, all the time maintaining his controlled, accurate drives.

"Nearly there, baby," he moaned.

"Damon!"

"Hold on, just hold on," he said calmly, plunging forward again, executing a painfully deep, delicious rotation of his hips, pushing himself forward as far as he could get.

They both cried out.

"Now, Elena" He withdrew, driving forward again, harder.

Elena let it go, feeling him throbbed and jerked inside her as they swallowed each other moans and both rolled over, descending into a calm, unhurried fall into nothing. Her body trembled and her heart was hammering in her chest.

She kissed him adoringly as he relaxed on her, holding her leg over his hip and pushing his body further into her, releasing everything he had, moaning in pure, raw pleasure.

The unwelcome invasion of moisture crept into her eyes, and she fought real hard to prevent them from falling and ruining the moment. He continued to accept her reverent kiss, meeting her slow, sweeping tongue, stroke for stroke. She was trying to tell him something with this kiss. She was desperate for him to recognise it.

She loved Damon!

He pulled back, breaking their kiss and frowned at her. "What's the matter?" he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

"Nothing," she replied too quickly, mentally cursing her wretched hand for shifting on the back of his head. He searched her eyes, and she relented on a sigh. "Nothing."

"What's nothing?" The confusion in his voice was quite clear.

"Nothing means nothing." She felt stupid all of a sudden, wanting to retreat under the covers.

His eyes softened and he swivelled his hips slowly. He kissed her gently, releasing her leg. "Are you okay?"

No, I wasn't! "Fine," she replied, more harshly than she intended. Was the man so thick skinned that he couldn't see a woman in love when she was lying underneath him?

"You are upset."

"No, I'm not." She wriggled a little underneath him.

He narrowed his eyes on her. "Yes, you are. Care to tell me why are you sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," she said oversensitively. But it was obvious that she was.

Damon shook his head on a long tired sigh before he rolled back onto his back. For several long moments he was quiet. "Are you having second thoughts about this?" he finally asked.

She looked at him, surprised. "No."

"Are you sure?"

She flinched. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't think we stand a chance." He cursed beneath his breath. "We had sex and that's it, right?"

She sat bolt upright. Aware that she was nude, she grabbed the sheets and held them to her breasts. "Damn it, Damon, don't you dare imply that having sex is no different than…"

He regarded her with frustration. "No different than what? A game?"

Anger, pain, and outrage slammed through her without warning. She found herself teetering on an invisible emotional cliff that she had not even noticed a few seconds ago.

"This is not a game."

"Then what is it, Elena?" He sounded serious and intent. "Why did you sleep with me? I know I would never come anywhere near to meeting even half the requirements and specifications on your Mr Right's list."

She winced. "You remember that list?"

"Never forget it."

"Good grief, that's crazy. You are pissed because you couldn't make my Mr Right list."

He rolled her onto her back and came on top of her. "Yes, I'm pissed with the fact that I personally couldn't make your Mr Right list." He squeezed his eyes shut and bared his teeth in a grimace of pain before going on. "I know I'm wrong for you. You don't have to feel sorry for me."

There was a short silence. She studied him for a long, brooding moment. "This is not a game. And I certainly didn't sleep with you because I felt sorry for you."

"So what's the reason?"

"I am sleeping with you because, among other things, I am a mature, unattached adult who happens to be physically attracted to you and also because—"

An eagerness that bordered on desperation swept through him. Get a grip, he thought. "And also because—?"

He sensed that she was on the verge of saying something crucial. But in the next heartbeat the intense, important thing disappeared beneath a breezy smile.

"And because you can cook," she said demurely.

So what the hell had he expected her to say? He wondered. "I can cook?"

"Yes. Just like my dad who was a good cook. He always cooked for my mum."

"Huh."

"You know what they say; a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The same applies to women."

He thought about that for a while. "Sounds like a reasonable explanation."

"Hmm, hmm."

He brushed the hair away from her face, looking at her affectionately. "Kiss me."

"You are not pissed now?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

His mouth closed over hers. His mouth moved over hers with supplicant precision until her lips parted to receive his persuasive tongue. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and sensually.

She was breathless when, at last, he lifted his head. "You make me crazy," he whispered hoarsely. "You make me so happy."

"Do I? I thought I made you crazy?"

He looked at her in the eyes. "You make me crazy happy." He kissed her nose. "You also make me crazy mad."

"I prefer you when you are crazy happy, but I don't like you when you are crazy mad."

His lips twitched. "Then stop doing things to make me crazy mad."

Elena gaped at him, but he pressed his lips to hers before she could challenge him on that accusation.

They were panting when he broke the kiss. He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his chest. He stroked her hair and dropped a kiss every now and then. The silence was comfortable and her eyes were getting heavy.

She pulled herself further into him, resting her leg over his thigh. "I should go back to my room," she garbled into his chest.

"No," he replied flatly. "You stay here with me."

"Hmm." Elena dozed off into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of all things crazy.