MYSTIC FALLS 12 JULY 2016

"I have nothing to do with Stefan's death," Ivy shrieked. "I swear it. We are just drinking buddies, that's all, honest."

Damon winced and glanced uneasily at the wall that divided Ivy's apartment from the one next door. The ex-factory had been constructed as cheap housing and it was obvious that no one had worried much about sound insulation.

Ivy's small studio apartment was crammed. There were several oversized cushions and a single chair. The bed was unmade. A half-full bag of potato chips was propped against the computer. Magazines were scattered across the desk. The closet door was open. Damon could see several pairs of shoes and boots tumbled on the floor. A red leather jacket hung over the back of a chair.

Ivy had looked startled to find them in the hall outside her apartment, but she had allowed them inside without protest. She had been drinking a can of cola and had tentatively offered her visitors some. The idea of drinking pop at that hour of the morning sent a shudder through Damon, but he had declined politely. Each to his or her own source of caffeine, he thought.

Damon had explained in a very firm voice that they needed to speak with her about an important matter.

Her initial nervousness had turned to outright alarm when Damon had confronted her with the death of Stefan. Panic had set in immediately.

Damon knew he had been right. Ivy wasn't what anyone would call a hardened criminal.

"I realize you didn't have anything to do with Stefan's death." Damon sat in the chair at the desk. "But I want to know your relationship with Stefan."

"Stefan was a regular customer of the Wild Fire Bar," Ivy said. "I know him for more than a year."

"Did Stefan go to the bar alone?" Elena asked.

"Sometimes but most of the time he would come to the bar with Luke," Ivy answered.

"What do you know about Luke?" Damon asked.

"Not much, except that he and Stefan seemed to be buddies," Ivy said. "Look, I'm a bar tender. Stefan was a regular customer of mine. We drank and had fun together. That's all."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "That's all? Did you know about Luke's gambling?"

Ivy twisted restlessly on her chair. "I don't know."

"You know about Luke's gambling, don't you?" Damon asked. "You had seen him gambled with other customers in the bar, hadn't you?"

Ivy froze, a terrified rabbit confronting a predator. Being the bad cop wasn't as much fun as the television shows made it appear, Damon thought.

But her reaction told him that he had hit the nail on the head. He had to keep going forward or risk giving her time to recover and think up a story.

"Gloria told me a lot of the customers at the bar gamble," he said. "Poker games. Luke likes Poker games."

"Well…most of our customers play Poker in the bar. Luke and Stefan aren't exceptional but Luke seems to be big fans of Poker. He gambles big money."

"Did you sleep with Luke?" Damon asked.

Ivy blinked. "What?"

"Did you sleep with Luke?" Damon repeated.

"Of course not!" Ivy almost shouted.

"But you slept with Stefan," Elena said. "Am I right?"

Ivy stilled. "It's my business, not yours right?"

Elena exhaled slowly. "My guess is correct then. You slept with Stefan."

Ivy swallowed. "I won't deny I find Stefan attractive. Stefan told me he liked me. It was convenient and uncomplicated between us."

Damon frowned. "Convenient and uncomplicated?"

Ivy nodded. "We knew what the other was able to give and demanded nothing more. As far as Stefan was concerned. Passion was based on need, not desire, and sure as hell not on love. And it worked for me too. No strings attached."

Elena felt disgusted. She stood up, turned around to walk to the window.

"Did Stefan mention anything about drugs?" Damon asked.

"Drugs?" Ivy looked horrified. "Why would Stefan mention about drugs?"

"Come across someone called Marko?" Damon asked. "Did Stefan or Luke mention this name?"

Ivy shook her head. "I don't know anyone called Marko. Did this Marko guy have anything to do with Stefan's death? Drugs were involved? Oh, my God! It didn't strike me that Stefan was a drug dealer."

"It is better for you not to know the details, Ivy," Damon said coldly. His voice must have been a little rougher than he had intended. Ivy flinched visibly.

"Did Stefan give you money?" Damon asked after a brief moment.

Ivy stared at him, obviously surprised by his question. "I'm not a prostitute."

"Well, I mean did he buy you gifts? I mean expensive gifts," Damon explained.

"I'm not Stefan's fiancée," Ivy said sullenly. "I was only a friend."

Elena faced Ivy. "Did Stefan talk about his fiancée?"

"Well, he did mention her a few times. Said she is smart and beautiful." Ivy paused briefly. "But she is not like most women."

Elena's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think she can give what Stefan wants in bed," Ivy said. "Otherwise why a man would be sleeping around if he has a beautiful fiancée?"

Placing her hands on her hips, Elena demanded, "What makes you think she can't give what Stefan wants in bed?"

Ivy shrugged. "It's female intuition. I know Stefan thinks she is not—not very responsive."

Damon bit back a grin and gravely said, "Not responsive? That bad?"

Elena glared at him but Damon paid no attention to her. "Go on, Ivy" he insisted, there was an odd light in his eyes. "What else did Stefan think about his fiancée?'

"Stefan wasn't a clumsy, oversexed college boy, and he probably didn't mind so very much that his fiancée is not very responsive, but other men who had slept with her probably think she is awkward and inept," Ivy said.

"Well, thank you so much for the information, Ivy." Elena hurried to open the door. She had to get out of here. "We better get going, Damon."

Damon followed Elena to the door. "Ivy," he said casually, "I will suggest you don't tell anyone about meeting us."

Ivy frowned. "Why?"

"The police are still investigating this case." He moved out into the hall and turned to smile at her. "This meeting is strictly confidential. Understand?"

Ivy swallowed. "I won't say anything. I promise."

Back in the car, Damon glanced at Elena. He said in a low voice, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Elena could see in the mirror that her eyes were too bright and that there was one spot of colour burning on each cheek. She smoothed her hair and turned away.

"Sorry about that," Damon said eventually.

"Oh, shut up."

The let-down was far worse than the anger or the tears. It bordered on outright depression, Elena thought. She retreated to her bedroom as soon as she was inside the house. Damon did not try to stop her.

Half an hour later, sat on the edge of her bed, she tried to sort out her mangled emotions and jumbled thoughts. She gazed at Stefan's photo on her bedside table. She couldn't believe Stefan would think she was awkward and inept. Was she that bad?

After Damon had left she hadn't been sleeping around. Other women had enjoyed it but she didn't. She couldn't. Because deep down inside, the memory of what it was like to be in bed with Damon haunted her.

She only started dating Stefan when they were in medical school. They had been together for almost a year before she slept with him. Stefan was kind and patient with her. But obviously it was a lie.

"Are you sure you are okay?"

Elena jumped at Damon's voice. He was standing at the foot of her bed. "Shouldn't you knock before you enter someone's room?" she said defiantly.

"Now, Elena, don't be like that," Damon put in. "Ivy doesn't know who you are, she just thinks…"

"She just thinks I'm awkward, inept and not responsive in bed."

"Come on, you know it's not true."

"Don't pretend you are not enjoying this," she flung back. "You can't wait to laugh out loud."

"God, you are making this so hard!" he cried. "I don't give a damn what Ivy or Stefan think about you in bed."

She blinked. "Really?"

He reached out and touched her cheek. "I have got news for you, darling. You know why none of my relationships worked in the past ten years? Because I couldn't erase the memories of you. I will never forget the first time we slept together."

Damon saw the warm flush on her smooth cheeks— evidence that his words had affected her. "I couldn't get enough of you because being in bed with you made me crazy with wanting."

"Damon…" Despite her best effort to hold them back, tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"Hey," he said in alarm. With the tears blurring her vision, she didn't see him move, but suddenly he was beside her on the bed, putting his arm around her and pulling her close so her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder. "Being with you drives me nuts. Not being with you also drives me nuts." He was rubbing her back, the motion comforting.

Elena let herself be held for a moment, closing her eyes as she savoured his closeness, the heat of his body, the man-smell of his skin.

Because she wanted to stay where she was just a little too much, she sat up out of his embrace and briskly rubbed her cheeks dry. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to cry on your shoulder-literally."

He smiled briefly. "You can use my shoulder anytime."

"I think I have overreacted," she said. "We should focus on finding out where Stefan had kept the money."

He watched her intently. "Right. And you don't want to discuss about us."

She swallowed. "Us?"

"Yes. Us." He spread his fingers. "You and me. The future." Our future, he thought.

She swallowed again. "I need time, Damon."

After a brief moment he nodded. "How long?"

"A little while."

He drew a breath. "Okay. I will do whatever you want me to do, Elena."

He stood up and walked to the door.

"Damon," she called out as his hand reached the doorknob.

He turned to look at her.

She bit her lip, hating to have him leave, but knowing he shouldn't stay. "Thank you for everything. I won't know what to do if you aren't here."

His phone rang before he could respond. "That will be Alaric." He left the room and shut the door behind him.

Elena flopped onto her back and closed her eyes. She sighed as she thought of the tender things he had said to her, and she could almost hear his deep voice saying them again…

Being with you drives me nuts. Not being with you also drives me nuts.

Us. You and me. The future.

I will do whatever you want me to do.

x x x

MYSTIC FALLS 8 MAY 2006

Dear Diary,

I'm sorry it's been so long, and I can't really explain why I haven't written-except that there are so many things I feel frightened to talk about, even to you.

First, the most terrible thing happened. Stefan got into a fight with Kai and Trevor because of me. We ended up in the police station. I felt bad, really bad. Then I let Stefan kissed me. I'm such a horrible person, aren't I? I kissed Damon and now I let Stefan kissed me.

Uncle Zach said Damon would come back to Mystic Falls on the weekend but there were no signs of him.

I don't know what Damon is doing these days. He hasn't texted me or called me. It seems like Damon has forgotten about me. Maybe I'm not an important person to him.

At school I wear a mask of calm and control, but on the inside- well, every day it just gets worse. It's frustrating. I want to know what's going on. If he doesn't care anymore, at least he should tell me directly.

Elena was in deep in her thoughts, which was why she didn't associate the knocking on her door with reality. A voice finally roused her.

"Open the door."

She dropped her pen and hurried downstairs. She checked the clock on the ceiling in the living room. It was almost eight p.m. Jeremy was in the school camp and Aunt Jenna had gone to her crotchet class after dinner. Who would be knocking on her door at this hour?

"Elena, dammit! Open the door!"

The door was vibrating with each fall of his fist. "Damon?" she croaked.

"If you don't open the door in ten seconds…"

"What do you want?"

"I will kick open the door and let myself in."

Scrambling to the door, she unlocked it and swung it open.

For the first time in his life, Damon looked truly bedraggled.

For the first time in his life, Damon looked completely drunk and disorderly.

And, for the first time in his life, Damon did not look happy to see her.

Damon was drunk, and he knew it. Okay…he sort of knew it, but was trying like hell to convince himself that he wasn't. Maybe standing at the front door of Elena Gilbert's house and taking some shots from the bottle of bourbon he had bought in Richmond hadn't been such a good idea. At the moment, he was alternating between being "king of the world" and "emperor of the dumbasses."

"Damon…have you been drinking?" Elena asked, astonished.

Bingo. Give the woman a prize.

"I have had a few," Damon answered. He'd had more than a few. Several? A lot? Yeah…he thought one of those would be more accurate.

Still, seeing her in front of him, looking as beautiful as she always did, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a blue lace hoodie, nearly killed him. Maybe the alcohol hadn't helped ease the pain at all, because his chest was aching just from looking at her. She looked…concerned and anxious, and when he saw her brown eyes flash with fear, he nearly lost it. Was she afraid of him, or the whole confrontation thing?

"Why did you drink so much?" she mumbled, standing back to let him in. "You should never drink and drive."

Nope. He usually didn't. In fact, he'd never actually been drunk, which may be the reason he was having such a hard time deciding whether or not he truly was intoxicated. "Didn't drive while I was drinking—except on your driveway just now."

He was sauntering into the living room, trying hard not to fall on his ass, when he heard a stifled laugh.

"You are completely plastered, Damon," Elena informed him, her eyes concerned, but her lips smiling slightly. "How much did you drink?"

"Don't know," he answered honestly. Because really, he didn't remember how many swigs he had taken from the bottle. He had wanted enough to make him numb, enough to keep him from reacting to Elena. The thing was, he didn't think there was enough alcohol in the world to accomplish that.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned carefully.

"I heard my brother got in a fight because of you," Damon grumbled. "How romantic!"

"It wasn't romantic. Stefan was just trying to protect me," she told him calmly.

"He was trying to protect you," he muttered, highly offended that Elena thought of highly of Stefan. "And you fell for him straightaway. How lovely!"

She folded her arms across her chest. "You came to my house drunk. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

He reached out and closed his fingers tightly around her scalp, then roughly tilted her head up and back. He was shaking with rage.

"I ought to break your neck."

He didn't. He kissed her - hard.

His lips crushed hers, bruised them against her teeth. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth with no semblance of tenderness. It was an angry kiss, spawned by angry passion.

She jerked away from him, hauling backward. "No, Damon!"

Then she slapped him across the face.

That got his attention. He pulled away, clearly surprised at her violent response. He released her and his hand went to his jaw. "Obviously you don't want to kiss me anymore, do you?"

"You were nowhere to be found in the last few weeks," she hissed. "You think you can just waltz back into my life and throw me into your bed like nothing has happened?"

The look in his eyes grew intense again. "If I could throw you into my bed this moment and know you would stay there? I would in a heartbeat, Elena."

"No," she cried furiously. "You can't do this to me!"

He raked a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Do what? I wanted to kiss my girl and what did I end up with? A slap on my face. But obviously you enjoyed it when Stefan kissed you."

Elena stilled. "You know about the kiss?"

"Yes," he laughed, the sound hysterical. "I know about the kiss."

"Damon, that wasn't…"

"Tell me the truth, Elena. Do you want Stefan?" He reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her down with him to the leather sofa, her body beneath his. "Why did you kiss him?"

She struggled beneath him, twisting and turning to free her arms from the bulk of his body on top of hers. "You are drunk, Damon."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are." Finally she managed to squirm out from under him, getting to her feet and leaving him laid out on the couch on his stomach.

"Please don't go," he said softly. "Elena, stay with me."

She snorted. "Fat chance. Now, let's go and we will get you upstairs, okay? Otherwise I'm not sure how to explain this to Aunt Jenna."

He leaned on her heavily as they made their way—slowly—toward her bedroom upstairs. Eventually, though, she got him up to her room.

"Almost there," she encouraged.

"Almost to kissing?"

She stifled a laugh at the tipsy hope in his voice. "Almost."

They wobbled their way across her room to her bed, and he collapsed into it, flopping onto his back with a groan. Elena pulled back just in time before he dragged her down with him.

"I'm lonely," he grumbled, patting the place beside him on the bed.

Oh no. Hell no. She wasn't going to get into that bed.

"I need you," he said huskily. "Come here next to me. I miss you."

There was every reason to ignore him, but she couldn't. The temptation was too great to disregard. Kicking off her sneakers, she climbed up onto the bed and snuggled beside him. "I miss you, too," she admitted, knowing he would probably never remember any of this in the morning. But the words left her lips involuntarily, needing to tell him at this moment.

His warm, protective arms snaked around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, giving herself this time, to enjoy the exhilaration she felt when she was with Damon Their relationship had never been comfortable, or mildly contented. For her, it had always been a heart-thumping roller coaster that never ended. She hadn't given Damon her heart; he had stolen it, the stubborn organ leaping from her chest and into his the moment they had met.

Crazy love.

The tension in Damon's arms relaxed, but he never let go of her, even after he was asleep. Elena relaxed into him and sighed, trying to absorb every bit of him into her soul, trying to keep every sensation locked in her memory.

She wasn't sure how long Damon would be around before he disappeared again.

Something jolted Damon out of his slumber, causing him to sit up in bed, before quickly dropping his head back on the pillows. Damn. His gut lurched and he swallowed, trying to make his head stop throbbing. It was like a sledgehammer was beating against his skull.

Blinking as he opened his eyes, a hand came into focus. It took him a moment to identify the hand belonged to a woman next to him. Elena was next to him, sleeping soundly.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he muttered softly, rubbing his face in her hair.

She blinked. "Damon?"

"Right here, sweetheart."

Then it struck her that she was entwined in Damon's arms and they were sleeping together in her bed. She sat bolt upright.

"You are awake," she said.

"Yes, I'm." He glanced at his watch. "It's almost seven a.m. I'd better be going."

He was leaving. Couldn't wait to be on his way. Outrage and pain knifed through her. Well? What had she expected? This was Damon Salvatore, after all. He wasn't exactly famous for hanging around. It wasn't as if she hadn't known exactly what she was getting into when she went into his arms earlier.

But it still hurt far more than it should. He was probably having fun with you. It meant nothing to him, she thought.

He got out of the bed and walked toward the door. "I will text you after school."

"That would be nice," she mumbled.

He paused, one hand on the doorknob. "Is there a problem here?"

"You are just going to walk out here, aren't you?" she asked evenly.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"Yes, there is a problem." She got out of her bed, strode forward, and came to a halt directly in front of him. She jabbed a forefinger against his chest. "You are the problem. I have enough of this stupid game of yours."

"What game?" he sounded irritated. "This is not a game."

She opened the door. "You can't come into my life any time you feel like you want to have some fun and then walk out again when you have enough," she said crossly. "I'm not a toy."

"Elena, you know this is not true," he said. "I have never treated you as a toy."

"Is that so?" she asked in icy accents.

"No," he said grimly. "But just so we are clear on this subject, I would like to point out that this isn't a game between us."

"Then why didn't you call me?" Her chin came up. "You basically ignored me for the past few weeks."

"I have a job, Elena. Come on, don't act like a child."

She stared at him. "I act like a child?" She was furious. "You ignored me for a few weeks and now you say I'm acting like a child."

"Why don't we talk later? You need to get ready for school."

"You are right. I'm going to be late for school." She was so pissed that she pushed him out of her room and slammed the door shut on his face.

Damon was too dumbfounded to speak for a moment. Nice going, Damon, you really screwed that up, didn't you?