Chapter Eleven

Rebecca was at the Grill with Caroline. Instead of going to the boardinghouse for Elena, she had called Stefan who had said Katherine had left already. Rebecca would've known that had she waited, because Katherine was at the Grill too.

When Caroline went to the bathroom Rebecca saw Katherine follow her. Rebecca decided to eavesdrop so she stood outside the bathroom door and listened.

"Care to share how you couldn't follow through with one simple task?" Katherine asked.

"I – I tried, okay? But I couldn't exactly kidnap my best friend."

"Occupy her. That's all I asked."

"I told her that her relationship was doomed and, ya know, all that mortality stuff, and I think, I – I really think that I got to her."

"I hope so. Because, let's not forget, I already killed you once. I can easily do it again."

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame, waiting for Katherine to open the door. When the brunette did, Rebecca smiled almost pleasantly.

"Hello, Katherine," she said before pushing the older vampire back into the bathroom. "Aren't you looking healthy?"

Katherine looked more annoyed than afraid. "You show up everywhere. You're like a bad penny."

"Hm. Why're you here? And don't give me that 'I missed Stefan' crap. You wouldn't be here if you didn't have a reason. You had the last 145 years to find Stefan. Why this particular point in time?"

"Hm . . . Isn't someone smart? Of course I have a reason, which I will not be sharing with you."

"Figured you wouldn't." Rebecca looked at Caroline and then back at Katherine. "This is the third time I've spared your life, Kitty Kat. You owe me. So if you hurt anyone I love, don't expect it to happen a fourth time."

The truth was that Katherine was still living only because they were in a public place. If Rebecca had caught her outside or somewhere secluded, Katherine would no longer be breathing air.

"Come on, Care."

Caroline walked away and Rebecca followed her, keeping herself between Katherine and Caroline. They took a seat at a table and, right after, Elena and Stefan walked in.

"Elena?" Caroline called.

"Hey." The brunette turned to her. Rebecca could tell Elena was still a little angry at the blonds' earlier antics. Elena had every right to be. Rebecca used to get furious whenever Elena would talk about Damon's and her relationship, but if only Elena knew what was going on . . .

Stefan patted Elena's shoulder and gestured to a table. He would wait for her while Elena talked to Caroline.

"Oh, I am so sorry about earlier today. I don't – I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay, Caroline. Everything that you were saying was right. It's just hard for me to hear, ya know?"

"So you're not mad at me?" Caroline asked, surprised.

"You were just being a good friend . . . in your own way."

"Yeah, my own head case, horrible way."

Elena smiled softly and turned toward the table Stefan was sitting at.

"Elena, I really am sorry."

Elena nodded and went to the table. Rebecca watched the brunette sit down and then focused on what Elena and Stefan were saying.

"I'm starving," she heard Stefan say.

"Well, spending a day with your jealous ex will do that do you," Elena responded, looking down at a menu.

"Look, I know you're upset, okay. But we have to take her seriously. Today was all about the lengths she will go to."

"If she was going to hurt me, she would've. I was standing right in front of her."

"Elena, you caught her off-guard. It doesn't mean that you're safe."

"I'm not afraid of her," Elena said firmly.

"Well, you should be."

"Look, if Katherine had her way, we'd be breaking up right now," Elena said.

"And if today taught me anything, it's that Katherine's used to getting her way."

"You're not actually saying that we should do what she says . . ."

Rebecca looked at Caroline, who was also eavesdropping. Rebecca was taking notes. If Katherine was doing this to Elena and Stefan, then maybe she would do the same to her and Damon.

"Listen, she's sadistic, okay?" Stefan said. "She threatened you. She threatened everyone."

"Yeah, no, I get it, okay? She's dangerous. But everyday that we're together is dangerous. Why are you giving her so much power over our relationship?"

"Because it's the reality of our situation."

"Well, reality sucks. This is what she wants. She wants us to fight. She wants to get between us."

"She already has, Elena."

Rebecca watched as Elena took that in, stood up, and walked away. Was that it, then? Were Elena and Stefan really breaking up? Because of Katherine? They couldn't do what Katherine wanted. The spoiled brat needed to learn that she couldn't always get what she wanted.

Rebecca stood up, getting ready to go to Stefan and give him what for, when someone stepped in front of her. Usually Damon did that, but this time it wasn't Damon; it was Mason. She could tell right away because of that very distinct smell Mason gave off. Now that Rebecca knew that Mason was a werewolf, she knew what he smelled like. It was a distinctly canine smell.

"Mason," she said, voice catching because he'd frightened her. "What're you doing here?"

"Getting a drink," Mason said. "Come have one with me."

The way Mason was talking, Rebecca knew it was serious. And . . . was he bleeding?

Rebecca looked at Caroline and raised a brow in question. She wanted to know if the girl was going to be okay.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Rebecca followed Mason to the bar where Mason ordered a beer. She had to compel the bartender to pour her a shot of tequila and give her a bottle of beer. She downed the shot instantly and enjoyed the burn in her throat as the liquid went down.

"Why're you bleeding?" she asked. His T-shirt was covered by a button-up shirt, but she could still smell the blood coming from him. "What happened?"

"Your boyfriend happened," Mason said. "He stabbed me. Right outside, actually."

"Damon," she muttered. "I'm sorry. He's angry because of what happened in the woods last night."

"I know." Mason touched Rebecca lightly on the arm. "I'm sorry for that, by the way."

Rebecca smiled softly. "I know that. You used to let me ride on your back while you pretended to be a pony. Of course you wouldn't mean to hurt me. Damon is just . . . protective. Plus . . . one bite from you would've killed me. Damon can't stand the thought of me being hurt."

"You don't seem angry at me," Mason said.

"I'm not," Rebecca said simply. "You didn't mean to do it."

Suddenly another person occupied a stool beside Rebecca and a hand covered the hand that was holding her beer. Damon had appeared.

"What's going on?" Damon asked. "Why're you with him?"

"Just having a drink," Rebecca told him. "Why?"

"With him?" Damon expressed emphatically. "You know what he is, what he did to you!"

"And I don't care!" Rebecca said firmly but quietly. "He never meant to hurt me. He couldn't help it. He apologized just now."

"Oh, well, that just makes it all okay, doesn't it?" Damon snapped. He looked at Mason once and then back at Rebecca. He grabbed her by the elbow. "Come on, we're going."

"What?" Rebecca stood firm. "No, I just sat down."

"You can drink at home," Damon said. "Promise, now, come on!"

"Damon, no! Stop acting like a Neanderthal and let me go." Rebecca had thought Damon had gotten over his caveman tendencies a few months back, but here he was acting all jealous again. "I'll be fine."

Damon set his jaw and stood up. "Whatever, but if he hurts you, don't saw I didn't warn you."

Rebecca watched Damon walk away and bit her lip. He was angry with her – he was worried, too, about her safety.

"Is he always so . . . charming?" Mason asked.

Rebecca smiled. "He's just worried. He's usually not so bad. He's always territorial, though."

"Hm."

Rebecca ordered another shot and downed that as quickly as she had the first. She felt Damon watching her and turned toward him, just to look. He was watching her with a very intense expression on his face. He really didn't like that she was having a drink with Mason.

"So how long have you and Damon been together?" Mason asked.

"About seven months," she answered.

Rebecca took a sip of her beer and a little came out of her mouth when she noticed red stains on his button-up shirt. She sputtered a little and Mason picked up a napkin and cleaned her chin.

"What? You okay?"

"Blood," she whispered. "Shirt."

Mason looked down and frowned. "Crap."

"Are you still hurt?" Rebecca asked concerned. "How deep did Damon stab you?"

"No, I healed. I just didn't change clothes."

"Oh."

Mason grabbed her hand briefly and grinned. "You're still as sweet as I remember, Becca."

She grinned back and felt herself blush. "Thanks, but I can be a handful when I wanna be."

"I bet," the werewolf said.

When Rebecca went to search for Damon she saw that he was no longer there. It was only when Mason began playing with her hair that Rebecca realized that maybe the werewolf had wanted Damon gone.

Outside the Grill, Damon began walking home but, this being Mystic Falls, he didn't make it home without first running into a problem.

Katherine.

"Bad day?" she asked.

"Bad century," Damon countered. "Heard you were on the loose."

"What's the matter? Jealous I spent the day with Stefan?"

"I don't do jealous. Not with you. Not anymore."

"Then why so pouty?"

Damon began walking away and Katherine followed him.

"Tried to kill a werewolf and failed. Now I feel like I'm not living up to my best self."

"Well, werewolves aren't easy prey," Katherine admitted.

"What d'you know about werewolves?"

"Why don't you ask your brother? Or Rebecca? She's getting awfully friendly with one right now. Maybe you're not enough to satisfy her in quite the way she needs. Maybe she needs a little animal in her man."

Damon growled in his throat but held himself in because he couldn't attack Katherine in public. She had hit a nerve. He'd been watching Rebecca flirting with Mason. Maybe she'd been doing it unintentionally, but she had been doing it, nonetheless.

Instead of answering Katherine, he just turned around.

"Don't try to be the hero, Damon. You'll end up dead."

"Been there, done that. At least this time it'll be worth it."

Damon walked into the boardinghouse fuming angry. Rebecca had been flirting with that Mason guy as if Damon hadn't existed. As if the months that they'd been together hadn't mattered to her at all. And she'd been doing it on purpose. Damon knew that she'd been doing it to get back at him for trying to make her leave with him, for, in her words, acting like a Neanderthal.

Damon wasn't too worried. Being faithful was engrained in Rebecca's personality, but that didn't make it hurt any less, and it didn't make it any less distracting. He hadn't been able to focus on anything after seeing her and Mason together.

Rebecca had driven him into a jealous rage, something Damon thought he'd gotten out of. Apparently not, though, because right then it didn't matter what Mason was . . . Damon wanted the man dead.

Damon growled with frustration. He knew part of his anger was due to his conversation with Katherine. What if what she'd said was true? What if Rebecca was losing interest? What if he was becoming boring to her? Maybe she needed more excitement; maybe he was becoming too predictable.

Damon heard the front door open and close so he turned around. Rebecca was there, but she wasn't looking at him; maybe she was pretending he wasn't there.

Rebecca put her keys on the table by the door and then she went upstairs. Damon glared at her back and cursed himself for wanting to follow her, but he did follow her. He realized she was going into their room. She almost closed the door in his face. Slowly, he reached for the door knob; he knew they were either going to fight or make up – or both.

Rebecca's heart stopped when Damon came into the room. She knew they were about to come to blows. She'd seen how angry he had become at the Grill, and how hurt. That was why she'd been looking for him when she'd figured out what Mason had been up to. He'd wanted to rile Damon up. Maybe Mason had a death wish or maybe he was just trying to pay Damon back for stabbing him. Either way, it had put a rift between her and Damon.

Once Rebecca had figured out that Mason had intentionally been flirting with her, she'd left the Grill, had run back to Elena's to get her car, and now she was back at the boardinghouse. She couldn't believe she'd defended Mason, that she'd chosen to have a drink with him over leaving with Damon. She'd acted selfishly and spitefully and . . . so Katherine-like. She'd known Damon had been worried about her hanging with Mason because of the werewolf thing and she'd chosen to do so only because of how Damon had commanded she leave.

"Hello, Damon," she said softly, taking in the hard, cold set of his face. She wanted to apologize, promise she would never do that again, but his eyes were gazing at her coldly. The usual warmth he considered her with was gone, and it was her own fault. She knew Damon probably wouldn't accept an apology now, not when the wound was so fresh.

She saw a muscle tick along Damon's jaw, a further reminder that he was . . . irrational. Then the slamming of the door made her flinch when she heard it; she was surprised that the wood didn't crack.

"Damon . . ."

He wouldn't hurt her, would he? She'd made him angry before and had never attempted to harm her, but, then again, she'd never intentionally hurt him before, either. Then she saw his eyes drop to the bed. Then he looked back at her.

It had been a while since they'd made love – because of a hundred little things, almost none of which had been their own faults – and his insinuation was clear. He thought having sex would cure the problem. Not realistic, but he was a man, so he probably thought sex would solve every one of their issues.

Neither of them moved and neither of them spoke. Rebecca wasn't sure she wanted to be with Damon when he was angry at her. She'd been with him when he'd been angry, yes, but never when he'd been angry with her; it had been an outlet for him. She didn't want to risk having all of the good memories of them together erased because of one night. But she felt she owed him something for doing what she'd done. So . . . she lifted shaky hands to the hem of her shirt and began pulling it up. They both heard it when the material hit the wood. Damon was just staring at her, eyes still cold with his arms crossed over his chest. Maybe this hadn't been what he'd wanted, after all, and she was just making a fool of herself. She just felt that he was appraising her.

"Damon, I-" She wanted to tell him he was making her extremely uncomfortable, but he cut her off.

"Shut up," he said firmly. "And take your pants off."

"What?" Rebecca asked, affronted. He hadn't really just ordered her to get naked, had he?

"You heard me. We both know you're only doing this to make up for flirting with what's-his-name, so . . . take your pants off."

How dare he treat her this way, like he only wanted her body, like she hadn't been there for him countless times since she'd met him? But she would play for now. She wanted to see how far he would take whatever this was.

When she was bare in front of him she could see he was struggling with the mask of indifference he was trying to hold firmly in place.

"We can't play if you're not undressed too," she said softly.

A hint of softness filled Damon's eyes and she relaxed a bit even though it left his gaze almost immediately. She knew, though, that Damon wasn't so angry that he would lose control; he wouldn't hurt her accidentally.

"Come undress me then," he said, still sounding authoritative.

Rebecca realized that this had now become a game – or it could be if she played along. She would be the submissive, she guessed. Damon was her master. Maybe this was what he needed after watching her with Mason.

Master or not, she wouldn't let Damon spank her; she was a little old for such punishments. She walked forward and, with slightly shaking hands, began unbuttoning his shirt. On the last button, Damon grabbed her hands.

It was hot having her play to his every whim, but he wasn't going to make her do this if she didn't want to. He would never force anything sexual on her; he would never hurt her that way. He was well aware of the fact that some girls were not into the whole sex-slave fantasy. Some found it degrading and he didn't want her feeling that way towards him in regards to, well, anything.

"Becca, stop." Damon took a deep breath. "Look in my eyes and tell me you're okay with this." He would not do anything to make her hate him, not like this. He had seen the apprehension on her face and body, and he didn't like that she'd been scared of him, even if it had been for only a second.

"That depends," Rebecca said. "Is this real? Or are we just playing a game?"

Damon scoffed a little. "Both." Damon knew this was her first time doing anything like this so he said, "Tell me to stop and I will."

"Then yes," she said, looking at him. "I'm okay with this."

"Mm . . . We needed that," Rebecca said.

"Mm-hm," Damon agreed whole-heartedly.

"Damon?"

He found her hand and laced their fingers together, naturally, like they'd never been fighting to begin with.

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to be such a . . . bitch. I just don't know what to do with myself when we're fighting. I don't like it."

"Well, then let's not fight," he said simply. "Not ever again."

The last part was a tease, but Rebecca agreed that they should try not to let things get like this for them. When Damon was worried, Rebecca should take that into account. When Rebecca was having fun with a guy, he should remember she would never stray far from Damon's side. She would never do anything to jeopardize their relationship.

"Damon?"

"Hm?" His voice was sleepy and almost incoherent.

"I love you."

Damon squeezed her hand and said, "I love you too."

Then he lazily flopped down beside her, pulled her halfway on top of him, and closed his eyes.

"Damon?" she said again.

"Hm?"

She giggled when she got the same eloquent response.

"Can we play this game again? Only without us being mad at each other first."

Damon's eyes opened then and he smirked. "You submitting to my sexual fantasies? We're definitely playing that game again."

Tyler Lockwood had been waiting for Mason to get back from the barbecue for a while now. He wanted to talk to his uncle. He wanted to know a few things. For starters . . . how did one become a werewolf? Mason had said something about a curse, but that Tyler wouldn't trigger it himself. How was Mason so sure about that?

When his uncle finally got home Tyler said, "How was that barbecue?"

"Not great. You still mad?"

"You still keepin' secrets?"

"Yup."

"Then I'm still mad."

Mason nodded and turned to go upstairs. Tyler, who had been sitting on the couch, stood up. "Hey. I was thinkin', you know, about that stone you're lookin' for. I might know a couple places it could be."

Mason turned to him and glared. "Do you think this is a joke?" Mason came into the living room. "If you know where it is, then tell me."

"Tell me how the curse is triggered."

"No. If I tell you, you won't be able to think about anything else. I don't want that for you."

"I think I can handle it," Tyler said.

"Yeah, you think you can handle it, touch guy?" Mason shook his head. "You have no idea."

"You want your stupid rock or not?"

"Tell me where it is!" Mason exclaimed, grabbing Tyler by the collar of his shirt and shoving him against the wall.

"Tell me what triggers the curse!"

"You have to kill somebody! Human blood," Mason snapped. "You take another person's life away from them, then the curse is yours forever. Can you handle that?"

Tyler just looked at his uncle. Mason had killed someone? Why? And how had that triggered the curse? He'd ended up with even more questions. Why wouldn't Mason just explain to him what was going on?

Tyler realized he needed to hold on to the moonstone just a little longer. It made for a great bargaining chip.

After leaving the Grill Elena went straight home. After her fight with Stefan she had wanted to be alone. Actually, she'd wanted to be with Stefan, but they couldn't leave together. Elena had noticed Caroline paying close attention to their conversation. Something was up with her.

But even though she hadn't left with Stefan, she knew he'd be waiting for her in her bedroom – and so he was.

"You okay?" he asked.

Elena shook her head and then went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I hated that fight."

"I know. Me too," Stefan said, bringing up a hand to play with her hair. "It felt too real."

Elena drew away a little and kissed Stefan before saying, "Did you see Caroline? We were right. Katherine got to her; she was hanging onto every single word."

"Then it won't be long before Katherine gets a play-by-play."

"I wish I was wrong, but I know Caroline too well. It was so obvious that something was up today."

"You're not wrong," Stefan said. "It's pure Katherine. She's always finding someone to do her dirty work."

"I'm pretty sure Rebecca was listening to us fight too. Should I tell her that it wasn't real?"

Stefan shook his head. "The only way Katherine is going to believe it is if everyone believes it. It's the best way to make her think she's getting what she wants."

Elena looked down at the floor and said. "All this . . . just to get you back."

"That's not why she's here, okay?" Stefan cupped her cheek with one hand and played with her hair with his other. "No matter what she says, I know her. Katherine doesn't care about anybody but herself. She never has. She's incapable of love; she's here for another reason."

Elena hoped so, because she really didn't want to be in competition for Stefan's affection for the rest of her life. Especially not with a vampire that was Stefan's ex.