AN: To the commenter that said something about a congressman, I give you a cookie! I was shocked to see we were on the same page. :D I hope to pull some of the things that seem a little out there in together by next chapter. This is getting heady, and I've found myself wanting to write four different chapters at once! So much to happen! Stay tuned!

"Okay, Damon. Peonies-" Elena held up a single flower on a stem. "or chrysanthemums." She held up another, only this one was red. Damon furrowed his brow, glancing between the two on the screen.

"Babe, what's the difference?" Elena rolled her eyes, letting out a slightly irritated huff.

"They're totally different, Damon. The peony has wide, ruffled petals and the other has skinnier ones." Damon shook his head, really lost in this conversation.
"Look, Lena. Whatever you pick will be fine. I thought this was supposed to be a little thing."

"It is! I just want it to be nice." Her lips turned up into a smile as she fingered the supposed frilly edges of the white blossom in her hand, almost bubbly with it. This was her spare-time investment while he was gone. Not every time that he got a chance to call her, but close, she wanted an opinion on something for their tiny ceremony. Last time, it was whether they should have chicken or roast and if rice made it too heavy a meal. Crazy shit. Women evidently lived for this kind of stuff.

"I like the white one." He cracked a smile at her, and she grinned back like some little flattered schoolgirl.

"Good choice, handsome." She carefully dropped both flowers into a vase behind her on a table, and he could instantly tell she wasn't at home.

"At Bonnie's still?"

"I'm babysitting Marie while Jeremy and Bonnie have a day to themselves," she spurted rather snootily. "But I may or may not." She knocked out her uppity voice and lowered her tone, feeling a little guilty for snapping. "Either way, I'm fine. Really." A voice somewhere behind him, and he checked his watch.

"Look, babe. I'll try to do this again soon. Alright? I've got to go."

"I love you."

"You too, Gorgeous."

The screen blanked as he winked at her. As Elena closed the computer, she felt a little better. These regular video chats gave her a little something to look forward to during the weeks. Almost too much sometimes. But she liked having some kind of contact with him now. Before, it was once a month or so. Now it was once a week, sometimes every two. Probably because he was stationary. But she was grateful, nonetheless. She started gathering up the splay of overrun from her binder, trying to find some kind of organization for it, but in the end settled for just shutting it. As she stood, a business card weathered from scribblings and being held and handled landed lazily on the carpet, face up to expose the number to the congressman's office. Of course, it wasn't a direct line. Elena had dialed it what seemed like every day for a month to the point that she had it memorized. Yet, after so much diligence, she hadn't yet made contact with him. The first few days she was told to contact someone else- a Army recruiter, someone associated with the army- and learn about the deployment system. Her favorite, recommended last week, was to find an "army wives" club of some sort for moral support. At that point, she had to hang up to keep from strangling the secretary through the phone. She didn't need support. She needed help- from the government. Yes, she knew that was like pulling teeth, but she couldn't yank Damon from the army and expect to get away with it. If she could just get him on the phone for five minutes, that would be all she needed.

As soon as she stuffed the laptop under the edge of the couch, she heard keys landing on the countertop and a voice call her name. She sat up, taking Marie's empty bottle with her as she started for the kitchen.

"Hey, you two. Back already?" Bonnie smiled at Elena as Jeremy unloaded bags in heaps off his arms.

"Yeah, thank god. Any longer and I'd be filing bankruptcy," he chuckled as bags of baby clothes landed on the floor. Bonnie rolled her eyes, picking up another that had groceries in it.

"/Puh-lease/. Don't act like you didn't have some involvement in this. The Children's Place stuff is not all my fault," she jabbed back matter-of-factly as she pulled tequila from one of the highest cabinets. She grinned over at Elena, lowering her voice. "He found her six outfits. Precious." And Elena wasn't quite sure if she meant the clothes or him. She laughed.

"So on the way home, I called Matt and Rebekah and they're coming for celebratory drinks. She's officially in town now and we're going to help her feel welcome. Not to mention she's gotten a position at the hospital."

"She's a nurse?" Bonnie guffawed almost.

"Uh, no. Better. Pediatrics. I about croaked when I found out." Elena's eyes bugged.

"You didn't know? She was at that brunch!"

"Well she said she worked at a hospital. I just /assumed/ it was as a nurse."

"Boy, did you assume wrong," Elena snorted.

"Either /way/," Bonnie snipped, "She's coming over and tomorrow Jeremy's going to help Matt move her in. Aren't you, baby?" Jeremy sort of glared at the back of Bonnie's head as she started mixing margaritas in a bowl a few feet away, a constant grin slathered on her face.

"You're lucky I love you. The game's on, you know." Elena bit her lip in effort to not laugh, earning herself a stink eye, too.

"Awe, Jere. It'll be okay. There's always DVR."
"Not the same," he muttered and dropped a bag of cheese defeatedly into the drawer of the fridge.

A few hours later, Matt and Rebekah finally arrived. Elena had just finished sweeping off the patio, silently wondering how it would look set for the wedding on occasion. It was latticed, vines of flowers crawling up the trellises and hanging so lazily from their stems. Tiny lights wove around poles and gave off a warm glow, the perfect setting for a warm summer night like this. In the middle of an array of chairs was a fire pit, and flames were slowly growing as it grew hotter. Elena sat just as Bonnie brought out a pitcher and five salted glasses, which Rebekah lit up for.

"God, I haven't had a margarita in ages," she gushed, purely excited for such a simple drink. "At least a real one. Most are out of a bottle—not even worth the hangover really."

"I'm a little bit of a cook, so I like to dabble in a little of all of it. No shortcutting for me." Bonnie began pouring, and when she came to Elena's glass, from a different pitcher. Elena huffed a little, feeling left out.

"Sorry." She waved a hand at her.

"It's okay. Give me nine months. I'll be needing one to stay sane." She laughed at the thought, knowing it could very well be true.

"You're pregnant?" Rebekah chimed, "Congratulations! How far along?" Elena tried to add it up in her head, but she really was lost.

"Two months? I'm not exactly sure." She sipped on her drink before continuing.

"Your first?" Elena tensed a little, but shook her head. Beside her Bonnie was watching, almost as if she wondered what she might do. Quickly she veered the subject.

"Bonnie tells me you're a pediatrician."

"Yes!" Rebekah lit up. Blonde curls bouncing with her excited nod. "I am, and I'm so excited to be working in a smaller hospital. And in such a lovely town. Mystic Falls is…is charming the right word?"

"Well, you could say that," Jeremy laughed. "Come back when you've lived here all your life."

"I think the best part of it is that I'll be closer to my family. I have a brother, Kol, who lives a few miles from here, but he's deployed at the moment." Elena blinked.

"Kol Mikaelson?"

"Uh huh. Oh, I'm sorry. You know me as Gerard. That's my—well, we won't get into that. But my maiden name is Mikaelson. I'm divorced. But you know my brother?" Elena's jaw about dropped in surprise.

"Damon left out on the same platoon as he did about a month ago. They're friends." Rebekah coughed.

"Bless you. I'm sorry. He isn't the best one to have." On that Elena could agree, but she wouldn't tell it to her face.

"He's better than he was but—won't delve into that, but he has gotten better. He calls me now. Occasionally." She gave a smile, then took a long swig of her drink.

"Small world," Elena nodded, sneaking a peek at the clock on her phone. 445. She set the glass on the table and rose.

"Excuse me. I need to make a phone call." Elena escaped back into the house, finding the number in her phone for what seemed like the thousandth time. It rang and rang, and finally the same woman answered that had every time before.

"Congressman's office. How may I help you?" she chirped.

"Hello, I'm the one who called about—" But the woman cut her off, that bright tone now replaced with one of irritation.

"Look, Miss, I'm recommending you to seek some sort of help. I understand that the deployment of a spouse is stressful, but there's simply nothing that the congressman can do."

"Just let me talk to him. Please. That's all I'm asking of you."

"He's a very busy man," she protested almost degradingly, and it struck on Elena's nerves.

"Okay, I understand that. Really I do. And I understand he was on vacation before. He's running a district. But I need his help. Is that so hard to get?"

"Ma'am, I know you're upset, but I've told you numerous times there's not anything that can be done. I'm going to ask that you /please/ don't call again." The line clicked and went dead. What a slap in the face.

"God damn it!" She hissed. The phone clattered against the wooden table as she dropped it. She wanted to throw things. Break a window. Something. She buried her face in her hands, trying to keep it together. What the hell now? She was banned? Her eyes burned, hormones wanting to make her just ugly cry for hours. But she wasn't about to.

"Is..everything okay in here?" Elena turned, seeing Rebekah in the doorway from the living room. She held an empty pitcher in one hand and had obviously heard at least three quarters of the whole thing.

"Fine," Elena unintentionally snapped, taking a regrounding breath.

"Anything I can do? You sound…stressed out."

"It's really complicated. Can't get help from people—it's like a /literal/ act of Congress." Rebekah furrowed a blonde brow as she found the second pitcher in the freezer, leaving the first in the bare sink.

"Wait. Are you really trying to /contact Congress?/ What kind of issue do you have that needs that?"

"My fiancé. He was deployed, but he shouldn't have been—it's just /complicated/." Rebekah cocked her head, and Elena realized that her statement could make her come off as crazy.

"He has amnesia."

"And they took him into war?"

"As stupid as it sounds, yes," Elena muttered.

"He shouldn't be out there." She was appalled. As she should be.

"I know. I just worry a lot, and he'll probably be fine." Her own attempt at consoling herself, but it failed miserably. Rebekah glanced down to the pale mixture in the canister, and stirred it for a moment. Elena could hear a giggle from Marie in the next room.
"I might can help you with that, Elena," she said cautiously, as if she were afraid of her. "I might or might not have a string." Elena gaped at her. /In Congress?/
"How?"

"Well, the congressman. He's my brother."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Elijah. /Mikaelson?/ Not exactly a common name." /Oh./ She was dumbfounded on either the fact that she was so blind to that or the fact that she was willing to talk to him for her. Perhaps both. Actually, very much both.

"I—"

"Give me until Monday. I'll try to have you in his office. He's very generous, and our father was in the military. I'm sure he'd be willing to listen." She smiled, as if to show this was a friendly gesture. But really Elena felt like she owed her her life. Because even if he said no, at least she'd felt like she had tried if he heard what she had to say.

"Oh my God. /Thank you./ Thank you, thank you. I've been at this for a month."

"Well, it didn't help that two of those he spent in Turks with his whatever-she-is. But I'll get your number from Matt and let you know. Okay?" She picked the glass pitcher up and smiled at her and simply walked back out to the patio. Elena rose and followed, feeling a little better that this somewhat stranger had just turned into her saving grace.