So I got so caught up in writing that I forgot about updating! But at least I have the next several updates all penned and ready? :)

I'm glad so many of you were so surprised by Rebekah and Damon's plotting - that was my hope. Damon needed to get his butt to Mystic Falls - may as well do it big, right? Thank you so so so so much for reading and reviewing each chapter!

I think you might like this one...

Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.

Damon rubbed his temples as he listened to Roseanne, the office manager of Salvatore Timber, bend his ear about ordering office supplies and a desire to change internet providers. She had been going on for at least fifteen minutes about the dwindling supply of pencils and staples and how unreliable their current internet connection was, especially on rainy days. She had already commandeered thirty minutes to inform him of all the comings and goings of the mill employees, who had been late several days this quarter, who wanted vacation days and just how on earth were they going to figure out the holiday schedule this year? He had determined nails on a chalkboard would be more pleasant than listening to her for a moment longer.

Before being cornered by Roseanne, he had spent an hour with the one and only human resource manager employed by Salvatore Timber. She had shown him document after document that he didn't understand about health insurance and retirement plans and apparently, he needed to hire someone to manage something that had to do with the shipping yard because they were severely shorthanded. She too had a fixation on vacation days and holiday schedules.

"I know you live in New York, but Mr. Salvatore, there has got to be a better way of doing things," Roseanne continued, smacking her desk for emphasis. "I need paperclips for the invoices and then we staple them to the order forms and there are the work orders…"

"You need office supplies, I got it," Damon said, holding a hand up in hopes of silencing her. "Tell you what, fill out an order while I go out and talk to Pete. I'll take it with me and review it tonight and sign off on it tomorrow. Does that work for you?"

"I guess that will have to," Roseanne replied. She was already pulling out a piece of notebook paper where she had been keeping track of her list of demands.

"Good. And for the last time, call me Damon. Mr. Salvatore was my father."

"Fine, Damon," Roseanne said, not bothering to look up as she scribbled down a few more items she had seemingly just remembered the office needed. "It's just that you look so much like your father…"

"I'll be back in a half hour or so," Damon told her, standing quickly to avoid a trip down memory lane about his father who had been well-loved by the mill employees. He excused himself and went in search of Pete. He found the mill manager in his office which was really no more than a converted storage shed.

"Damon!" the man greeted. "Good to see you around here again, son."

"Pete," Damon greeted, shaking his hand. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You're the boss," the man said with a grin and shake of his head. "You're not interrupting a thing. Except me trying to figure out who gets to be off for Thanksgiving and who gets the week after Christmas."

"Surely there's more going on around here than a vacation schedule," Damon commented, more to himself than Pete.

"Oh, there's plenty," Pete confirmed. "But if I want any of that stuff to get done, I've got to take care of these people."

"Well, let's get the people their holidays," Damon said. Pete missed his sarcasm.

"What can I do you for, Damon?" he asked.

"I'm in town for the weekend, figured I'd get some face time around here, sign some invoices, meet some people." Pete nodded and took in Damon's outfit. His jeans were designer, his boots expensive and the jacket he wore was real leather. Pete was willing to bet the t-shirt under the jacket cost more than his whole outfit, from his Salvatore Timber hat to his broken in steel toe boots.

"How about getting those pretty hands of yours dirty?" he asked. Damon glanced at his has hands quickly.

"Okay?" he said, his agreement coming out as a question. Manual labor wasn't something he was familiar with. Pete nodded, managing to hide his smirk. He reached behind him and picked up a hard hat.

"Put this on," he said, passing it to Damon. He put on a hat of his own and then pulled open a desk drawer. He tossed Damon a set of work gloves and tucked his own pair in his jacket pocket. "And these too." Damon looked skeptical, but did as he was told, trying not to grimace at the feel of the scratchy gloves against his hands.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"Got some boards to load," Pete said, already moving for the door. "Come on, boy. You said you wanted to learn about this mill? This is the best way to do it."

Damon shut the front door of the Salvatore Boarding House behind him and leaned against it, his muscles aching. He couldn't recall the last time he'd performed manual labor. Growing up, his father had made him and Stefan help around the house, despite the fact they had landscapers and contractors to take care of the place. It "built character" as Giuseppe had been fond of saying. The only character it had built in Damon was the desire to hire someone else to do the work for him, a desire made even stronger by the fact that his father seemed to have had a knack for putting a rake in his hand in the early morning hours of his worst hangovers.

The sound of someone moving around in the kitchen echoed through the large home.

"Elena?" Damon called out, remembering she was supposed to meet him there. He pushed off the door and rolled his shoulders as he made his way towards the kitchen. He heard footsteps and frowned when Stefan appeared, a packaged honey bun in one hand, a can of soda in the other.

"Afraid not," he said. "Sorry to disappoint."

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked.

"Is it even worth saying I live here?" Stefan retorted. Damon shook his head dismissively.

"You know what? I don't care. I'm guessing Elena's not here yet?"

"Did you see her car out front?" Stefan replied, figuring if Damon had come in through the front door, he would have seen Elena's SUV parked in the drive had she been there.

"Shut up," Damon said, heading towards the kitchen, inspired by the site of Stefan's snack to find one of his own. Stefan took in his brother who was covered in a fine layer of sawdust and sweat, his hair messy and not in the on purpose way he usually wore it.

"What happened to you?" he asked, following Damon into the kitchen.

"I put in some time at the mill," Damon said. He opened cabinets until he found the box of honey buns "Pete decided I needed to get my hands dirty. I thought I'd show up, shake some hands, order some damn pens and call it a day. Except I loaded lumber onto trucks for a solid three hours like I was an hourly employee." Stefan choked back a laugh.

"Pete put you to work?" His eyes danced with amusement as he pictured his brother, dressed in expensive labels and used to lifting nothing heavier than an iPad during his workday, stacking lumber into a truck.

"Obviously," Damon scoffed. He sat down on a bar stool, popping the top on the soda he'd found in the fridge. "Who stocked the kitchen?"

"Elena and Caroline." Damon frowned.

"They did?"

"Apparently Harper James is staying here?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah, he'll be here sometime tomorrow," Damon said. He shook his head. "I hadn't even thought about the fact that he might need food. Which is a pretty large oversight, given that he eats like a horse." Another thought occurred to him. "I guess I should make up a guest room for him."

"Elena and Caroline again," Stefan said. "They were here when I got here from the hospital this morning. I'm not sure how they got in, however."

"I gave Elena a key this morning," Damon said dismissively. He checked the time on the microwave clock, wondering where Elena was.

"A key?" Stefan repeated. "You two really are serious." Damon cut him a look.

"She is my girlfriend," he reminded his brother.

"How's that going?" Stefan inquired.

"Well enough."

"Well enough?"

"Why is it I always feel like I'm on an episode of Dr. Phil when I talk to you about anything other than the weather?"

"I just want things to work out for the two of you," Stefan said. "She's good for you. And believe it or not, you're good for her."

"I'm not good for her," Damon said with a shake of his head. "But she is good for me."

"You're a better man than you think you are," Stefan said, sounding older than his 26 years. "You're the only one who doesn't see it." Damon looked at his brother, trying to figure out how to respond. It was easily the nicest thing Stefan had ever said to him. He had just decided to thank him and move on when the front door open and closed.

"Damon?" Elena called.

"Kitchen!" Damon called back, the note of excitement in his voice hard to miss. Stefan grinned and winked at him, causing Damon to grin ever so slightly. Elena appeared a moment later.

"Hey!" she greeted happily. She spied Stefan. "Oh, hey, Stef," she added.

"Elena," Stefan said with a nod. He leaned on the counter, his arms crossed while eating another honey bun. Elena turned back to Damon with the intentions of greeting him with a kiss until she noticed his appearance.

"What happened to you?" she asked, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"Pete put me to work," he grumbled. "Sorry, babe, but I'm going to have to take a shower before we head to Charlottesville." He could tell by her appearance that Elena was already dressed and ready to leave for their date.

"I'll agree to that," Elena nodded. "I was going to kiss you until I realized you look like a lumber yard."

"Come here," Damon growled, grabbing for Elena. She let out a shriek as she dodged out of the way. Stefan took another bite from his honey bun as he observed the couple. He wasn't used to seeing his older brother like this, playful and carefree, but he liked it.

"You know, we don't have to go to Charlottesville," Elena said. "It's already after six o'clock and you have clearly had a long day. We can go to The Grill or that Italian place, get some dinner, come back here, hang out…"

"I'm taking you on a date," Damon said stubbornly. "You want tapas, we're going to get tapas."

"We really don't…"

"Elena."

The pair stared at each other for a moment before Elena relented. She did want to go to Bang and a date with Damon was exactly what she needed after spending so much time apart.

"Go shower," she told him. "I'll hang out down here with Stefan."

"Or you could join…"

"Damon."

"Fine," Damon said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll go shower. Alone." He balled up his wrapper, tossed it into the trash can, and then crossed the room to Elena. "Feel free to reconsider," he said. He wrapped an arm around Elena who tried to dodge him once more and pulled her to him as he passed, leaning down to kiss her sweetly before letting her go. "I'll be back," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen, smirking as Elena dusted off the sawdust.

"Who was that guy?" Stefan asked when Damon was out of the room.

"That was Damon," Elena answered. She opened the fridge and helped herself to a soda, then took up Damon's stool. Stefan joined her at the island, settling onto a stool across from her.

"That's not the Damon I grew up with," he commented. "I actually kind of like the one that just left."

"I'm just glad he's here," Elena admitted. "I've missed him."

"I'm sure you've at least talked to him more than I have. I finally got him on the phone last week – for about three whole minutes."

"I talk to him a few days a week," Elena said. "He's so busy. I don't think he ever sleeps."

"He's never been much on sleep," Stefan said. "When we were kids, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, we're talking one, two in the morning, and Damon would be wide awake, usually sitting in the library, reading. When we got older, he was usually sneaking in as the sun came up, but even then, he did a pretty decent job of at least leaving the house when he was supposed to to make it look like he went to school."

"I worry about him," Elena confessed.

"He's got something to prove," Stefan replied with a slight shrug. "He's going to keep going at full throttle until he inevitably slams into the metaphorical wall."

"Something to prove?" Elena repeated. "What? That he can keep several irons in the fire at once and not drop a single one?" Stefan nodded.

"Something like that," he confirmed. "He's spent most of his life thinking he's not good enough. Getting the best clients, landing the best deals, making the most money, not letting the mill crash and burn… That's how Damon proves himself – to himself."

"That's ridiculous." It wasn't that she didn't believe Stefan. It was that she couldn't believe Damon didn't see how good of a man he was, what he had accomplished.

"Ridiculous as it is, it's the truth," Stefan said. "Damon has spent most of his life trying to prove something. When we were kids, he wanted to prove he didn't give a damn. Now, it's all about proving our father was wrong about him."

"Maybe I can talk to him," Elena ventured thoughtfully.

"Good luck with that," Stefan said. "Damon talks more than he hears."

"I'm never getting out of this bed," Elena declared as she burrowed down deeper into the silky sheets of Damon's bed.

"Fine by me," Damon declared. He rolled over and wrapped an arm around Elena, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. "We'll just stay right here. Grow old and gray. We'll have three square meals a day delivered, eat the leftovers for a snack. Figuring out the whole bathroom and shower thing will be an issue, but we'll deal with that later. Between recovering from all the sex we'll be able to have since we're going to stay in bed for the rest of our lives." Elena laughed.

"Why is your bed so comfortable?" she asked.

"Because the sheets alone cost more than an average paycheck."

"I'm going to have to get some of these sheets."

"We're never getting out of this bed, remember? No need for that."

It had been nearing eleven o'clock by the time they got home from their date. Both were exhausted, Elena from a day full of last minute festival preparations, Damon from the time he had put in at the mill. They had climbed the stairs, Elena had changed into one of Damon's t-shirts despite the pajamas in the overnight bag she had packed, Damon had stripped down to his boxer briefs, and they had fallen into bed, content to just be together.

"How are those shoulders feeling?" Elena inquired.

"Like I imagine Clayton Kershaw feels after he's pitched six innings," Damon replied.

"Who?"

"Pitcher for the Dodgers," Damon answered. "Son of a bitch signed with Trevor over me."

"Bitter much?"

"Extremely. That kid is only twenty-five years old and has two Cy Young awards."

"Good for him," Elena grumbled sleepily, making Damon laugh as he was sure she had no idea what a Cy Young award was. Then he groaned.

"Rub my shoulders?" he asked. Elena rolled over onto her back, smiling at him. He had been trying to cover up just how sore he was all evening, but she could tell he was growing more uncomfortable as the night went on, especially while driving back to Mystic Falls, his bucket seats unforgiving. He looked so worn down that she couldn't have told him no even if she wanted to.

"Roll over," she directed, sitting up in bed. Damon did as he was instructed and Elena straddled him. He knew it was a sign of how tired he was when he didn't try to take advantage of the fact that a beautiful woman was on top of him. Elena went to work, rubbing his tense muscles. Slowly, he started to relax.

"You are an angel," he mumbled into his pillow. Elena just shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she continued her work. Several minutes later, she laid back down beside him. "Thank you," he said. "That felt amazing."

"You're welcome." Elena leaned over and kissed his cheek. Damon rolled onto his side and draped an arm over her.

"I'm sorry I've been a crap boyfriend," he told her. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry I've been a crap boyfriend," he repeated, voicing the nagging thought he'd had since he'd arrived at her cabin the previous night. "I'm going to do better." Elena propped herself up on her elbow.

"What makes you think you've been a crap boyfriend?" she asked.

"You haven't seen me in weeks," he said. "I've been terrible about making time to call you. You wanted to come see me and I couldn't even make that happen since I was traveling so much."

"Damon, you're being too hard on yourself," Elena told him. She reached out and brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Relationships are hard and ours is even harder since we're doing most of it long distance. I'd say we're doing pretty well, all things considered." Damon shook his head.

"You're too good to me," he said.

"Stop that," Elena ordered. "I want to be with you, despite the miles between us and crazy work schedules and everything that comes along with it. It's okay to accept that and just let yourself be happy." Damon leaned in and kissed her softly.

"You're crazy for choosing me," he told her as he pulled away. "It may well turn out to be the worst decision you've ever made."

"Or it'll be the best one," Elena countered. She kissed him back and then laid back down on the bed, curling into him. "How are those shoulders now?"

"Better," he replied. "Except I'm probably going to need another shoulder rub first thing in the morning. And probably some sex too." Elena laughed.

"Probably?" she asked.

"Probably," Damon confirmed. "If I'm going to go back to the mill tomorrow, I'm going to need to be inspired. You, naked, is inspiring."

"You have to go back tomorrow?" Elena asked casually.

"I'm just going to put in a few hours," he told her. "Since I'm here, I need to put in some time there. I'll be back home before lunch. I wouldn't dare stick you having to meet Harper on your own. He's going to seize every opportunity to tell you all of my secrets. I'll have to keep him in check." Elena chuckled.

"I do plan on interrogating him," she said. "How are things going with the mill anyway? You don't talk about it much."

"Well, it's up and running," Damon said. "I suppose that's all I can ask for. It's making money and so far, I've remembered to sign off on payroll so people are getting paid. For now, I guess that's good enough."

"What happens when the six month mandate is up?" Damon shrugged.

"I haven't thought that far," he admitted. "I've got through March to figure that out. I'll worry about it after the New Year."

"If Pete keeps making you do manual labor, I guess your decision on what to do with it will be easier," Elena quipped. Damon chuckled and pulled her into him, her back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. While he was sore, he couldn't quite deny that it had felt good, working with his hands, with other people all aiming for the same goal. He had actually enjoyed the crew he was working with, found it easier to relate to them than he thought it would be.

"Let's worry about all of that later," he said. "Right now, I want to focus on how good it feels to have you in my arms."

"I'll agree to that," Elena said, wiggling so she was even closer to Damon. He was all too happy to tighten his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck, his scruffy cheek rough against her smooth skin. She sighed contently. That sigh, for whatever reason, gave Damon the courage he'd been trying to work up for a while now. He kissed her cheek softly.

"I love you," he whispered. He heard her sharp intake of breath and prayed he hadn't said something he shouldn't have. She rolled over in his arms so she was facing him. He felt a bit relieved when he saw she was smiling.

"Say it again," she said.

"I love you," Damon repeated. He trailed his fingertips along her jawline as she smiled brightly.

"I love you too," she said, her words coming easily. Damon shook his head.

"You don't have to say it back," he said. "I just wanted you to know."

"Damon," Elena said softly, placing her hand on his cheek. "I love you. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I love you." Damon looked bashful for perhaps the first time in his life.

"I only know that I love you," he said. "That's your misfortune."

"Gone With The Wind," Elena said, recognizing the line.

"Gone With The Wind," Damon confirmed. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, Elena."

"I love you too," Elena replied. "And for what it's worth, you loving me? That's not a misfortune."

They love each other! Aw!

They're sort of back in their little bubble again. Mystic Falls has a way of doing that to them... But the mill...

Next chapter? Harper returns!

Let me know what you think!