Hey, everyone! I'm finally done with Driver's Ed on Tuesday, and there are only two more weeks of school :) Plus, those last four days are half days because of exams so finally! Summer's approaching quickly. I can't wait.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Review if you can.

Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)

Unpleasantville

So, it had been settled—Claire and Stefan were both staying in Mystic Falls. Elena and Stefan were back together and he wanted to stay with her as long as he could. But, even though this mysterious man who had intentionally stood in front of Elena's car was a major issue as of the moment, Damon was an even bigger threat. He spent his entire night searching the shelves of the Salvatore library, and some of the morning, too. It was in the morning while Claire was getting her stuff from the compelled Rio townsmen she had asked to bring her stuff to the States that Stefan talked to Damon about his secret agenda, to which Damon brushed off like it was nothing, like he always did. Claire didn't have a lot of things, but what she did own, she put them into one of the guest rooms closer to Stefan's side of the house than Damon's just so her best friend wouldn't get suspicious. Besides, Damon and Claire had made their rules clear: until she came to him, he wouldn't pressure. He was quite convinced she'd crack, but she found other ways to preoccupy her time; like planning her outfit for this 1950's dance Stefan and Elena invited her to be the chaperone to.

"Is it possible for a vampire to get fat?" Claire asked, playing around with the clingy fabric of her authentic skin-tight leather pants and constricting red top. It was literally from the fifties—the perks of being a vampire. She kept the few outfits she liked over the decades just in case anything came back into style. Tonight was the night she finally got to use that one pesky hoarder trait of hers. Claire turned around to Stefan, who was buttoning up his grey shirt. "I don't remember having to stop breathing in order to fit into this thing."

Stefan laughed. "I still think you should've gone with the poodle skirt." Claire rolled her eyes. "Or the Pink Ladies jacket you stole from the movie set in the seventies."

"Oh, my God," Claire groaned, pulling her long, pale hair up and away from her face. "I remember the Grease phase. That jacket's probably worth a fortune by now. Too bad vampires don't need money," she chirped and reached down with the hand that wasn't holding her hair up in a perfect bunch so that she could tie it with the red silken hair tie they used back then. The outfit she'd chosen was the one that all of the impure, racy girls wore back in the day—and since she was no saint, she didn't bother buying any of the nice-girl clothes: the calf-length skirts, white shirts, and quarter sleeve open sweaters. She was much more like Rizzo than Sandy back then.

She finished tying her hair up into a ponytail using the silk ribbon when Stefan responded, "Didn't you take the T-Birds jacket that I stole?"

Claire smiled. "Guilty," she sang, which earned a laugh from Stefan. "Oh, come on. It's not like you were going to wear it, anyway, Mr. I'm-too-cool-for-leather-jackets-anymore," she taunted, sitting down on Stefan's bed to relax before she had to slip on her shoes and get going with Stefan to the dance.

"You know, you could've just asked," Stefan mused, a smile twitching on his lips. Claire shrugged as she lay across the edge of his bed, her hand propping her head up and her hair obeying gravity by swaying behind it.

"Yeah, but what fun would that be?" Claire shrugged. "Wait a second! Unless you're angry at me for taking it!" Stefan said nothing. "Wait, are you?"

Stefan laughed and looked up at her, incredulous. "When have I ever been angry at you, Claire?"

Claire twitched her lips. "Err…actually, you were pretty mad at me back then before I left." Stefan frowned at the mention of the memory, and she just rolled off the bed and sighed. "Oh, well. Let bygones be bygones." She bounced up to him and poked his chest, causing Stefan to loosen up. "Come on. Aren't we going to party like it's…nineteen fifty?" she finished, a puzzled look crossing her face at her own statement. "Does that work?"

Stefan was confused, too, and eventually he just shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't."

In no time at all, they were on their way to Elena's, taking their time making their way over to the teenager's house. Stefan showed Claire some of the town that they passed on their on-foot trip to the Gilbert house, sometimes having flash races in between. It was nothing but fun and games until Claire spotted something peculiar outside of a suburban house that Stefan had pointed out as Elena's.

"Stefan…" Claire trailed off, pointing in the direction of the house. "There's something there," she murmured so that the vampire lurking wouldn't hear. It was when Stefan saw the vampire go into the house that he wasted no more time thinking about what would happen, and he was out of sight.

Unlike Claire, Stefan was able to get inside the second they suspected anything from only a block down from Elena's house. Claire had managed to break down the door, but she wasn't able to cross the threshold. In the commotion of it all, Stefan lost the vampire, who went out by way of Elena's back door, leaving nothing but a frightened girl, a worrisome vampire, and a helpless vampire in its wake.

Stefan picked Elena up from the floor and pulled her into his arms, asking her if she was okay over and over again, to which Elena responded the same answer. She was fine, but the three of them knew that she very well couldn't have been if Stefan and Claire hadn't shown up in time.

Claire cleared her throat, gaining Elena and Stefan's attention. "Not to…err…be insensitive or anything, but…" She pressed her hand against the threshold, where an invisible blockade forced her hand back. Stefan and Elena both sighed, but out of a still worried relief, and Elena invited the blonde vampire waiting at her door into the house, and Stefan immediately pulled out his phone and called Damon.

"How'd he get in?" Damon demanded once he was inside Elena's house. Claire was very aware that Damon had already been invited in beforehand, and at this, she was amazed. Big bad vampire and all, it seemed unlikely that Elena would just invite him into her home. Must've been unintentional or something like that.

Elena sat on the couch, next to Stefan, who had his hand placed on her thigh comfortingly. Claire sat on the couch's arm next to Stefan, who was freaking out slowly.

"He was invited in," Elena choked out, still shocked over her near-death experience.

"He posed as a pizza delivery guy last night," Stefan added.

"Clever," said Claire, just as Damon agreed with her in his own way by saying, "Well, he gets points for that."

A silence passed before Damon spoke again, "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, he was too busy trying to kill me," Elena retorted, moving her head at him and giving Damon the equivalent of a death glare.

"And you have no idea who this is?" Stefan asked Damon, an accusing tone in his voice. All earlier light-hearted, laid-back Stefan had been drained and he was now serious as ever. Claire understood though—it was risky being with a human. One wrong move and they're dead and you're alone forever. It sucks to be a vampire sometimes.

Damon shook his head. "No," he said, and Stefan looked at him with a slightly questioning nod. "Don't look at me like that. I told you we had company."

Elena glanced up at Damon quickly. "You think there's more than one?" she asked, alarmed.

Damon stiffened and eventually said, "We don't know."

"This can't just be some uncanny coincidence," Claire refused, shaking her head as she pulled her thumb into her mouth and thought it over. "Whoever this guy is, he obviously has a plan. And there has to be a reason."

Stefan knotted his eyebrows at her. "You think he's after Elena because she looks like Katherine?" he asked.

Claire raised her own eyebrow at him in a disbelieving kind of tone. "Vampires may hunt their prey, Stefan, but they don't go through these types of lengths unless you're one seriously sadistic bastard. I mean, they're not all Damon Salvatore." Damon rolled his eyes, but Claire just bushed past her own joke and rubbed her hands on her thighs in thought. "Anyways, regardless of the reason, he'll have a plan. Now that he's been made, he'll have to finish it."

"Look at you," Damon taunted, sitting down on the other side of the couch by Elena. "Ever the psychologist."

Things went silent after Claire ignored his comment and Stefan spoke again, his voice strained and worried. He spoke his friend's name softly. "Claire." Claire looked down at him to find Stefan staring up at her. "He was invited in."

Claire realized the importance of the statement, and so did Damon, who was nodding to himself. Before Claire could respond to Stefan, Damon was the one that did it for her, "Then we go get him tonight." He shrugged and turned to Elena. "You up for it?"

"What do I have to do?" asked the timid human.

"Let your boyfriend take you to the dance," Damon spoke evenly, never missing a beat. "Claire and I can keep watch and see who shows up."

"It's a bad idea," Stefan warned, but Claire vouched for Damon, who was finally thinking of someone other than himself. It didn't surprise her—Katherine look-alike and all that.

"You said it yourself, Stefan, he was invited in," she explained. Stefan was still weary of the plan, but she continued. "Until we get him, no one in this house is safe." Elena looked up at her, almost searching for a confirmation to Damon's words. "If we don't get him tonight, there's no telling what he'll do."

Elena sighed deeply, but then she nodded and straightened, trying to put on a brave face for the vampires surrounding her. "I'll do it," she said immediately, and Stefan, though still weary, accepted her decision. Elena could see right through him, so she reached forward and grabbed his hand. "With all of you with me, I'll be safe," she assured her boyfriend.

All the vampires in the room made eye contact with each other, and they knew they were all in for one hell of a night.

Claire, Damon, Stefan, and Elena all walked into the energetic high school gymnasium filled with teenagers either drunk or just high on life…or possibly something much stronger. Fifties music blasted from the speakers and a slideshow played up against the projector in the gym, being blinded by students' heads and the eons of streamers and balloons that coated the gymnasium.

Damon sighed heavily, tilting his head to Claire in just the slightest so she knew he was talking to her. "Quick, favorite decade?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. Though he did not look at her, her grey eyes drifted up to him and quickly looked around the crowd of teenagers, scoffing.

"Tell me this won't turn into Twenty Questions."

"Oh, come on! It's just a question. Favorite decade?" Damon spun around on his heel to stop her from moving, swiveling so that he was just in front of her. A few feet away, Elena and Stefan were already at a table, talking with each other.

She pursed her lips at him. "You're going to think this is because of you, but it's not." Damon raised an eyebrow. "The twenties," she concluded, and Damon nodded. "There's nothing that can be more fun than partying in prohibited jazz clubs with an unlimited supply of illegal alcohol."

"And you're positive that's the only reason?" he attempted, but she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Yes, I'm positive." She paused. "And you?"

Damon looked around the gymnasium, his eyes wandering from costumed girl to costumed girl. "What about me?"

"Favorite decade?" she questioned, crossing her arms at him. He glanced down at her, removing his eyes from the crowd. "I'm making this a 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' type of thing, just so you know." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Stefan squeeze Elena's hand and walk over to the punch bowl, probably to get a drink for his girlfriend.

"Mm," Damon agreed, but his eyes involuntarily drifted down the length of her, surveying her costume. It was hard not to stare at the revealing outfit—something that a regular student could potentially get kicked out with if they had worn it the way she did. He kept himself controlled, but on the inside, he was raging. He always was. If he didn't find her attractive, they would've never slept together, so there it was: he found Clarissa King breathtakingly attractive.

Annoying, but attractive.

"The fifties," he responded coyly, glancing up at her. She looked at him in return, puzzled.

"Why?"

"Well, if you were dressed that way the whole decade…" he trailed off, letting her imagine the rest. Though the statement was wildly inappropriate to be making in the same room as Stefan, but their voices were low enough that only they could hear.

"All right, I think that's our cue to stop now." She smiled at him teasingly. "I thought I told you I was done with this mess."

Damon puckered his lips. "And…how many times have you said that over the years?" She frowned at him. "Oh…wait. You've said it at least four times."

Clarissa sighed, frustrated with him. "Now you're just pissing me off." She brushed past him and heard Damon's chuckle.

"After all, that's what I do best."

Claire, tired of being with the elder Salvatore brother that pissed her off for sport, went over to Stefan at the drink table. He was scooping punch into a cup very domestically when Claire came up behind him and sighed heavily. "You know, everyone seems to forget all of the shit that happens in this decade. To them, it's all varsity jackets and poodle skirts."

Stefan turned to her and laughed. "People like to forget the bad history, Claire. Replace it with a better one."

She groaned. "Yeah, but they're so painfully inaccurate when they do that! If only everyone got to live forever; they would all see our way of life."

"Ah," Stefan protested, placing the ladle down in the punch bowl and successfully holding up two punch cups. "See, now that would be a problem. If everyone became like us, we would have no food source left. And animal supply would run out quickly."

Claire frowned. "Rain on my parade, why don't you, Stefan," she mocked, and he smiled before she grabbed the cup of punch in his hand. Stefan sighed.

"That was for Elena…" he trailed off and watched as she downed the liquid like it was a shot. When she crushed the cup in her hand, she shrugged.

"So? I'll pour her another one. It's called effort, Stefan. Effort." Stefan rolled his eyes before glancing around the room, worried. At this, Claire attempted to ease his discomfort as she grabbed another cup and scooped the red liquid into it. "Relax, Stefan. Damon and I can handle this. Tonight's all about your experience as a high school teenager."

Stefan turned back at her with a sigh. "Yeah, I know, I just…" He paused, almost stopping mid-sentence like he'd caught something wrong. Claire continued to scoop the punch into the cup to fill another one she would have for herself. "Wait a second, did I actually hear the words 'Damon and I' come out of your mouth?"

Claire laughed bitterly. "Well, Stefan, if Damon and I are going to live in the same town, we have to be at least tolerable with each other. Besides, it's for the greater good. Protecting a human, teenage Katherine Pierce look-alike. Worth it," she sang, but it was obviously sarcastic.

Stefan eyed her carefully. "You and Damon? Living…in peace?"

At this, Claire scoffed. "Who said anything about peace? I just said we have to learn to be tolerable. That does not mean peace. I'm still contemplating how to stake him in his sleep."

Stefan shook his head in disbelief. "The conflict between you two will never end, will it?"

Claire shrugged. "Nope." With a smile, she brought her own cup to her lips, drank out of it more conservatively this time, and grabbed Elena's in her hand. She extended it out to Stefan. "One cup of punch for your girl all ready to go."

"Actually," Stefan countered, not taking the cup. "Do you mind giving it to her? I need to go talk to Damon."

Claire shrugged once more, and with an expression of his gratitude, Stefan was off in the other direction. Claire scanned the crowd for Elena's position, and she eventually found her with two other girls, who were clinking cups at each other. Making her way through the sea of frisky teenagers, she walked up to Elena and the duo beside her. "They're not shots, but they'll have to do." She smiled widely, handing Elena the red liquid.

"Thanks," Elena said gracefully, accepting the cup. She turned back to Bonnie and Caroline and quickly made the introductions. "Caroline, Bonnie, this is Claire King, Stefan's friend. She's, uh, staying at the Salvatore house." Elena turned to Claire and gestured. "Claire, this is Caroline and Bonnie, my friends."

The two teenagers gave awkward smiles to Claire, as if assessing her for some odd reason. Claire felt uncomfortable under the stare of the two snap-judging teenagers, and she forced a smile. She'd met Caroline before and had seen the judging eyes, but Caroline didn't remember her at all, obviously due to Damon's compulsion.

"Are you a chaperone or a new student?" Bonnie asked, her eyebrows knotting. Claire recognized Bonnie as the possessed Bennett witch who had performed the spell that destroyed Damon's beloved crystal, but she had never personally met Bonnie before.

"Oh, God no, not a student." Claire laughed. "High school days are over. I'm chaperoning."

"Hey," Elena interrupted, looking around. "Where did Stefan go, again?"

"Oh, he went to talk to Damon," Claire said, a certain attitude in her voice. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the two Salvatore brothers. When she spotted them, she pointed Elena in the direction. "There you go."

"Thanks," Elena smiled and went off, leaving Caroline, Bonnie, and Claire all by themselves. Bonnie and Caroline were looking off in Damon's direction with disgust as Stefan separated from his brother.

Bonnie groaned, converting her disgusted look into a tone. "Look at him. He's just so…so…"

"Smug? Cocky? Just smells like a jack-ass?" Claire interrupted, gaining Caroline and Bonnie's attention. They looked at her with widened eyes, as if they'd struck gold. "Yeah, that's Damon Salvatore for you. I mean, come on. Who comes to a decade dance without dressing up? Literally refused to go home and change." She shook her head, almost disappointed.

"Oh, my God," Caroline breathed, glancing at Bonnie. "I think I just found an older, less prettier version of me."

Claire, at first, was pleased with the comment, but then she realized what Caroline had said. "Wait a second…"

"Hi, Bonnie," a voice cooed, and all three girls turned to see Damon approaching them. Claire simply ignored his presence while both Caroline and Bonnie turned to him, feeding him what he needed: attention. "Wanna dance?"

Bonnie was cold and monotone as she scoffed, "I'm outta here."

Damon stepped in front of her, pulling her arm back. "Please give me another chance," he begged. Damon Salvatore, begging? Now this was a sight Claire had always wanted to see, so she turned to him with a confused look and wide grin.

Bonnie, having the ultimate girl-power, scoffed and turned away from him, never caving under his smoldering gaze. She brushed past him and walked off, and at this, Caroline walked forward and spoke to him sharply, "Back off, Damon."

Damon flinched as Caroline walked after Bonnie, leaving him and Claire by the table. Claire didn't try to even conceal her soft, breathless chuckles. "Three cheers for feminists," she taunted, which just earned a sour smile on Damon's face.

Before he could retort, Elena's voice was behind him, "Where did they go?"

Damon turned around to face them and shrugged. "I don't know."

Elena and Stefan were clearly curious and amused at the same time. Stefan obviously overheard the conversation. "What'd you say to 'em?"

Claire snorted. "What didn't he say to them?"

Damon looked back at her with a dark glare, but then back at Stefan with a sweet smile. "I was perfectly polite," he defended himself, and then turned his head to the dolled-up Elena, who was enjoying this. "Elena," he began. She straightened at his address, "Would you like to dance?"

Elena's voice was sweet and innocent, "I would love to." Damon smirked to himself, chuckling in satisfaction. But his happiness was short-lived when Elena turned to Stefan and said, "May I have this dance?"

Stefan didn't say anything but merely propped out his elbow, in which Elena took with a fiery, pleased gaze towards Damon. The raven-haired vampire's smile just turned, and he could hear Claire choking on her drink.

"Wow. That has to be…like, a record or something." She couldn't resist laughing. "I mean, three girls? Wow. By the way, when did you become a pedophile? I went to law school once and I'm pretty sure that an adult dating a minor is illegal."

Damon turned around at her. "Nothing's illegal in our world, sugar." Claire shrugged simply and pulled her drink back to her lips again. "But if you want to go with logistics, you are legal. So why don't you dance with me?" He made himself clear this time, but that didn't change the answer.

"Mm…" Claire hummed to herself. "I'd rather not, though."

"It's just one dance!"

"Why are you so desperate?" Claire asked, now concerned with his intentions. "You can't honestly be so desperate to want to dance with me."

Damon shrugged. "I asked you, didn't I?" She frowned at him.

"Yeah. Last. Which proves that you're desperate. I don't accept scraps, Damon, you should know this by now." She shook her head, but didn't let him get to her on the subject. Dancing with Damon Salvatore wasn't her first choice in hobbies.

Damon scowled at this. "Come on. I'm bored, and I'm not going to go home tonight without dancing. There's nothing to do here," he complained.

Claire straightened. "Uh…have you forgotten that we're supposed to be going all Buffy on this guy who's trying to kill Elena?"

Damon gestured around the room. "Well, look around! I don't see him, do you?"

"No, that's why we have to be on the lookout."

Damon groaned. "God, you're frustrating. And very empowered, too." Claire drained the rest of her punch as Damon's expression changed from annoyed to confused and concerned. "What are you up to?"

She placed her empty cup on the table and sighed, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he countered, his words serving as gateway to the words he really wanted to say. Claire straightened. "You're hiding something. That's why you're so insistent upon staying away from me," he whispered.

Claire scoffed and began to walk away. "Not everyone has bad intentions, Damon, I'm simply insistent upon staying away from you because I've outgrown you." She walked up to his shoulder, just a few seconds away from brushing past him. "It only took me nine decades."

She walked away from him to go to get another drink to look around the gymnasium, but Damon had followed her, clearly not getting the hint. She sighed, frustrated, as he continued, "The problem, Claire, is that I don't believe you."

She turned to him sharply. "You don't have to. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing this for me. Now can you just shut up and help me stake out this place? You've already been distracting enough with this skeptical nonsense." She almost scoffed at the thought of her having alternate intentions when it came to stopping sex with Damon. What did he think she wanted? A relationship? Next joke, please.

Damon kept his eyes locked on her, to which she accidentally caught and was unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze. The speakers above them had shifted the song from a slow one to a loud, upbeat one, and they heard a voice right beside them.

"Hey, I don't recognize you two." Damon and Claire both turned their heads to face a sandy-haired, blue-eyed teacher wearing a varsity jacket with the letter M on it. "How'd you guys get roped into chaperoning?" Both vampires were silent; the nature of this directness was quite concerning. "Alaric Saltzman," the man introduced. "I'm the new…History teacher."

Alaric held out his hand, to which Damon took and shook firmly. "Ah," he mused, "the…cursed faculty position."

"So I've been told." Alaric smiled.

"I'm sorry..." Claire turned to Damon. "The what?"

Damon looked between Alaric and Claire. "I'll…uh, tell you later," he mumbled, and she was left with no choice but to push it to the side as Damon spoke to the teacher again. "Damon. Salvatore," he added.

"Salvatore?" Alaric noted. "As in, uh, Stefan?"

"He's my little brother," Damon almost sung. "I'm his legal guardian, hence the…chaperoning."

"Ah," Alaric agreed, and then his eyes drifted to Claire. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Claire," she responded, almost weary of the direct teacher. "Claire King. I'm Stefan's friend from…err, way back. Hence, the chaperoning," she said, gesturing towards Damon to give credit to her plagiarized words.

"Well, I hear he's very bright," Alaric praised. "Not that I've had a chance to see for myself." He scoffed.

Damon defended his brother quickly, "Well, his attendance record's a little spotty. Family drama," he clarified.

Alaric nodded in understanding. "No parents?"

Damon seemed almost annoyed by this man's presence. "Mm, it's just the two of us now. And, Claire, of course." He jerked his head to the side to indicate her presence.

But Alaric didn't seem as interested in Claire as he was Damon. His eyes would flicker to the blonde-haired vampire at Damon's side, but he said nothing to her and focused on prying into Damon's life. "You, uh…you live here your whole life?"

"On and off," Damon responded. "Travel a bit."

"Really?" Alaric questioned, fishing for answers. "Where? Around the states?"

Damon gave the brown-nosing teacher a sideward, icy glance, and at this, Alaric began to apologize with a scoff. "I'm sorry. I'm nosy, I…I don't mean to pry." He looked between both Claire and Damon. "Look, it was nice meeting you two."

"You too," Damon and Claire said instantaneously, and Alaric wished them a good time at the dance before he walked away, ducking his head. Claire and Damon stood next to each other, watching as the mysterious history teacher disappeared into the crowd.

"You want to talk about bad intentions?" Claire muttered. "Because that teacher gives me some serious skeptical vibes."

At this, surprisingly, Damon agreed, "You and me both."

Damon had abandoned her to dance with some slutty teenage girl who was drooling all over him. Claire was watching from afar as Damon shamelessly groped this girl in the middle of the dance floor, never minding the fact she'd stated earlier. Stefan and Elena, all danced-out, came over to her as she was watching them, and Elena joined in on the observing. She spoke aloud to Stefan, "You really can't take him anywhere, can you?"

"Uh, no," Stefan returned, but his voice was teasing. Claire drained the rest of the fourth cup of punch she'd had to supplement her alcohol craving, and that's when she saw something. There was a man with a hood covering his face and a cap that secluded his eyes. Because of his lack of costume, this person was automatically on her suspicious list.

"Elena," Claire hissed through her teeth as she turned to Elena and the teenager straightened, hearing her distressed tone. Through her teeth, Claire spoke, "Back corner, it is him?"

Because she didn't get a good look at his face, Elena looked for her. Immediately, she gasped, turned back, and nodded.

Stefan straightened at this confirmation and touched Claire's arm lightly. "Get Damon," he demanded and began to fight the crowd to follow the suspicious character. Claire looked over at Elena.

"Stay here," she warned. "Don't move; there could be more. Damon and I will come get you," she promised, and then she was off in the crowd to find Damon still groping that same teenybopper. She didn't waste any time with niceties when she approached the teenage girl, gripped her arm tightly, and spun her out of Damon's grasp.

"Hey!" the girl protested in a shrieking voice. Claire's eyes focused in on the girl's and she began to use her powers of persuasion to get what she needed—Damon alone.

"Leave. Now. Be shameful that you're letting a twenty-four year old man handle your ass like that and never do it again." She gave the girl a light smile and watched as she walked away, in a daze, leaving her and Damon on the dance floor by themselves.

Damon smirked at her. "If you wanted to dance with me, you should've just accepted my offer when it was on the table."

Claire didn't even attempt to toy with him. "Get over yourself, Damon. Look, he's here." It was all she needed to say to earn Damon's attention, and he immediately asked where Elena was. "She's over—"

The second Claire looked into the direction of where she left Elena; she could no longer see the human girl. She blinked once, twice, and a third time, looking around all the while, trying to see if she'd lost her surroundings. But, no, where she pointed at first was where Elena should've been. "Damon, she's gone."

"What?" Damon breathed, looking around, himself for the look-alike. It wasn't long before Stefan joined the searching party, fighting his way against the crowd.

"Where's Elena?" he asked rapidly, empty-handed. Claire turned around at him.

"What happened to the guy you were chasing after?"

Stefan shook his head. "He was compelled to lead me out. Where's Elena?" he repeated.

Damon muttered as he looked around the crowd, "Claire lost her," he said simply, but Stefan and Claire didn't even bother listening to Damon's excuses. "Come on," he urged and was the first one to force his way through the crowd to the exit, trying to pick up any scents and sounds he could possibly hear. It was when Damon, Claire, and Stefan all heard a high-pitched scream coming from the cafeteria that they realized where Elena was.

They fled to help her, and when they heard another shrilled scream, Stefan was the one to move faster than the rest. He went immediately to Elena while Claire and Damon barricaded the doors against escape.

"Hey, dickhead," Damon sung from behind the vampire, holding the wooden stake he had caught in the air as a weapon. He held his hands up in surrender, trying to make peace. "Nobody wants to kill you," he lied. "We just want to talk."

The vampire paid no attention to Damon's efforts, and he flashed over to Stefan, who caught the stake that Damon had thrown at him. Elena flinched when Stefan plunged the wooden stake into the attacking vampire's stomach, delaying him from further attacks. The vampire gasped and moaned in pain, falling to his knees. Damon and Claire both walked around to face the vampire as Stefan proposed, "Now you feel like talking?"

The vampire choked, "Screw you."

Stefan, with an angered face, thrust his fist against the wooden stake so that it resulted in the vampire groaning in further pain. The violence of the situation made the innocent Elena behind him just open her mouth in complete and utter shock.

"Wrong answer," Stefan hissed.

"Your reason," Claire began, crossing her arms as she walked over to Noah. "Give it to us. Now. I'm not as soft as Stefan here."

The vampire kneeling before them just gave a look of annoyance before he said, "It's fun."

Damon smirked at the answer, almost approving of this method of torture. Claire and Stefan shared a look, and when Stefan backed up, Claire took her foot and kicked the stake so that it impaled the vampire further, making him shout in infinite pain. The force of her kick was stronger than Stefan's punch, and it made him hunch over, gasping for air.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" she snapped, putting her foot firmly on the ground. "What do you want with Elena?"

The struggling vampire looked up underneath a layer of sweat, and he answered truthfully this time, "She looks like Katherine."

Claire, Stefan, and Damon all shared a glance, and Damon was the one who questioned this time. "You knew Katherine?"

The vampire beneath them made a sharp sound. "Ooh. You thought you were the only ones." He gave a gasping laugh. "You don't even remember me? Because I remember you." His eyes drifted up to Claire. "Clarissa King."

Claire looked down at him with disgust and just kicked the stake again so he grunted more, leaning forwards on his knees. Damon was the one who spoke next. "Tell me how to get into the tomb," Damon ordered, placing his hands on his knees so he could hover.

Claire looked over at Damon. "That's seriously number one on your priority list right now?"

Damon didn't even pay attention to her, as he hummed to the vampire to prompt him to respond.

"No," said the vampire simply. Stefan was the one, this time, to walk forward, place a firm hand on the vampire's shoulder, and twist the stake in more, coaxing a groan out of the tortured vampire's lips. He gasped out, "The Grimoire."

"Where is it?" Damon pushed.

Again, Stefan pushed in the stake, and again, the vampire gasped out of pain. Elena turned her head, mortified. "Check…the journal," the vampire gasped. "The journal. Use Jonathan's journal. Jonathan Gilbert's."

Damon straightened off of his knees, and Stefan, though reluctant, asked the next question. "Who else is working with you?"

Silence.

"Who else is there?" Damon shouted. When the vampire didn't respond, Claire stepped forward and sighed.

"I would really rather not kick you again but—"

"No," gasped the pleading, near-death vampire. "You're going to have to kill me," he said simply.

Claire bent down to face the vampire in the eyes. "Tell me who you're working with," she ordered, but the vampire shook his head. Her eyes drifted up to Damon's and Stefan's, and she rose from her knees. Stefan was the one who placed a hand on the vampire's shoulder again, ripped the stake out, and then impaled it right this time so that it pierced the vampire's heart.

The vampire gurgled, Stefan twisted the stake, and he gasped to the floor, turning desiccated. Elena's gasps and pants were now audible and frightened behind them, but all of the vampires in the room did not speak.

"W-What do we—how are you going find the others now?" Elena asked frantically, not accepting the sight of death in front of her.

Damon turned his head towards her and shook his head. "He had to die."

"But…" Elena trailed off, and Stefan answered her this time.

"Elena," he spoke softly. "He's been invited in."

That was all it took for Elena to understand, and a silence crashed over the band of vampires and their additional human. It was when a sound appeared outside that they all were weary. Damon and Claire both turned their heads sharply to the sound, and Stefan spoke to them. "Go. I've got this."

Almost immediately, both Claire and Damon went outside. Damon wasted no time with human speed once he saw the odd history teacher roaming the halls. The blonde vampire opened her mouth to protest, but Damon flashed in front of Alaric and he gasped.

Clearing his throat, Alaric spoke softly, "Hey."

"What were you doing?" Damon demanded as Claire walked up to the two of them, standing by the side. His voice was icy cold and suspicious. The compulsion was taking effect.

"Looking for Ms. Hilden," Alaric said in a monotone, his back straight. Damon began his compulsion harder now, searching for answers.

"Why are you in Mystic Falls?"

"Damon, is this really—?"

Alaric, who was forced to answer the question, interrupted Claire. "I got a job as a teacher."

"Do you know what I am?" insisted Damon.

"You're my student's brother."

"Is everything you're telling me the truth?"

"Yes."

"Then forget we had this conversation." He tore his eyes from Alaric's and looked at Claire, who was just intrigued. She felt like something was wrong, but Damon just patted Alaric's shoulder. "Come on, Claire. Let's go."

He and Claire rushed off, not once realizing that the history teacher was clenching vervain in his fist.

"Damon," she rushed out as he violently walked throughout the hallways. "Damon! Stop." She reached out and grabbed his arm tightly, spinning him around to face her. "What was that back there? The tomb? Katherine? I thought you were done with that. Bree said there was no other way."

"Well, obviously, there is," Damon spat at her. She removed her hand from his arm and tensed. "You know, you're just lucky vampires can't compel vampires. Otherwise, I would compel you right now to tell me what you're hiding."

"Why do I have to be hiding something?" Claire snapped, her tone angry and icy. "If anything, you're the one that's hiding something! You're always hiding something!"

"You were the one who wanted this arrangement," Damon snapped, walking forward. "It seems highly unlikely you want to cut ties."

"You're ridiculous," she snapped again, her eyes cold. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill, Damon! Is it so wrong of me to want to stop going behind my best friend's back? Or can you just not accept the fact that I don't find you attractive anymore?"

"Now that's a lie."

Claire scoffed. "I'm not having this conversation with your self-consumed ass. I'll go check on Elena and Stefan." She tried to walk away, but this time, Damon was the one that pulled her back.

"I will find out what you're up to," he warned her, his eyes dead serious. She just stared at him, but then jerked her arm back violently, turned on her heel, and walked away.

"I need to talk to you," Stefan said as he restrained Claire from leaving Elena's porch. He was going to spend the night with Elena just in case, but he needed to talk to his friend first.

"Yeah?" she questioned, turning back to him. Her thoughts were clouded with things she didn't want in there—things involving Damon. How dare he think that she was so wrapped up around him? If she wanted, she could easily pull the plug. She did the first time, and she could do it much faster now. He was just being a sore loser.

"I made a deal with Damon." Oh, great, Claire thought to herself bitterly. "He wants to get Katherine out of the tomb and…I figured, the best way to get Damon to trust me was to help him."

Claire crossed her arms at Stefan and shook his head. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do here, Stefan, but—"

"Just…listen to me for a second," Stefan said, holding up his hands. Claire obeyed him, nodding for him to continue. "Look, I know the last thing you want is Katherine to be out of that tomb and…to be honest, it's the last thing I want, to. That's why I lied." Claire stiffened, realizing. "I'm letting Damon believe that he can trust me, but…I don't want anyone out of that tomb, Claire. Especially not Katherine. She'll kill you the first chance she gets, no matter what I ask of her. And those twenty six other vampires aren't a risk I'm willing to take."

Claire inhaled. "Look at you, Stefan. All devious." But she didn't smile. Stefan nodded at her, but they both knew what they were doing and how risky it was. "I'll help you. Whatever you want, you know I don't want her out of there."

Stefan nodded. "That's…kind of what I needed to talk to you about." Claire raised an eyebrow in prompt. "Damon told me that he's skeptical of your return." Claire scoffed, just shaking her head in sheer amazement at the persistency of Damon Salvatore. "You know I don't believe him. He's just bitter when it comes to you. But, anyways, I need you to help me…and in order to do that; I need you to talk to Damon. I need you to get him to trust you. Bad-mouth him, be nice to him, just do whatever you need to so that you can get any information he won't give me."

Claire was taken back at his proposal. "Stefan, he hates me. He'll probably tell me less than he tells you."

Stefan shook his head. "You were his friend once, Claire," he retorted, his smile twinged in sadness. "You can try it again, can't you? Or…at least, attempt it? Make peace? For me?"

Stefan's expression overtook Claire. He was so hopeful…so naïve. Damon Salvatore would laugh her out the door if she wanted to be friends with him.

Then the thought crossed her mind and she gagged in her mouth. There was something that Damon Salvatore wanted from her that Stefan wasn't aware of. Something that she'd been denying him of for the last few days.

Clearing her throat, Claire mumbled, "I'll handle it." Her promise made Stefan smile, and he let her disappear off into the night, where she later turned up at the Salvatore house. Damon was somewhere off upstairs, and she knew he could hear her come in. She poured herself glass upon glass of bourbon, realizing that she needed to be at least buzzed to go upstairs and do what Stefan was asking her to do…indirectly. Really, Stefan was as oblivious to what she needed to do then the next hopeful vampire, but she knew what it would take to get back in Damon's good graces again.

That's why she rapped three times on the door, and waited for Damon to answer. He saw her in front of him, still dressed in her costume, but he, on the other hand, had stripped his leather jacket and was just about ready to strip the rest of his clothing. "Need something?" he almost barked.

She nodded, her eyes cloudy and desperate. Damon could see straight through them. "Shut up," she growled and barged into the room, backing Damon up so she could slam the door behind her. Damon was clearly amused and pleased with her arrival, and he waited for her. "You were right."

Damon smirked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Just shut up," she pleaded desperately, but Damon wouldn't take it. With an exaggerated groan, she just reached forward and pulled his neck towards hers, and he, without hesitation, flashed forward so that he could show her he understood. Her back hit the door, and they were inches apart. Damon's smirk was evident before he ducked his head, his lips skimming over the skin of her neck and she moaned through the feeling of intoxication regarding the eons of alcohol she'd had. Her hands gripped him closer, almost clawing at his shirt, and she moved them so that they began to slide down the sides of his torso and towards the hem of the plain black t-shirt.

His lips were at her ear when he spoke, "I told you, Claire, I'm irresistible. It was only a matter of time." Damon's fingers traveled to her tied-up hair, and he teasingly pulled one of the ends so that the knot untied itself. She watched his expression as he painstakingly removed the ribbon and it fell to the floor, letting Claire's soft, glowing hair now spill in slight curls over her shoulders.

Claire growled, and she didn't waste another second before kicking her legs, moving them from the door so that they backed up closer to his bed. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, gripped it tightly, and forced it upwards. Damon held his hands up so that the shirt was easily taken off of his body and thrown onto the floor. "If I hear so much as one more 'I told you so' out of your mouth, I'm out of this room that very instant."

"And then you'll be right back at it again," he retorted, laughing against her hands that skimmed down the length of his chest and pushed so that he fell back down on the bed. The mattress shuddered beneath him, but she wasted no more time. With a flip of her hair, she braced herself to gain control. The entire time she spent climbing on top of him, Claire thought of how this could be used. She needed to get him to spill her secrets to her, and this was the way to do it. No matter how much she wanted to stay away from him, there was something always pulling her back. Oddly enough, this time, it was Stefan.

Damon groaned when she bent down, her back arching, and she kissed down his bare chest, her hands getting a feel for his muscles. Her eyes drifted up to see him close his eyes, and she smirked to herself, realizing that she was accomplishing what she wanted.

But there was something she wanted to ask first.

"Worst thing I've ever done to you?" she said suddenly, removing her lips from her skin just as they neared his hipbones. Damon opened his eyes to meet hers, and though her lips were removed, she kept her hands on his chest for support.

"What?" he breathed out, shaking his head against the bed.

She nodded at him, prompting him to answer. "Tell me. What's the worst thing I ever did to you?"

Damon stared at her, confused for a split moment. He propped himself up on his elbows so that he was able to fully stare into her eyes to determine the seriousness. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I've always wondered. I've done a lot of crap to you. I can remember my favorite, but…well, obviously, I don't know yours."

Damon studied her, as if inspecting her for falseness in her attempts. She didn't once breathe wrong, for she was afraid he'd notice if she even took in the sharpest breath. It was a good thing vampires were excellent liars.

"You sure you want to know?" She nodded, and he shifted underneath of her, pulling her with him so that he was sitting straight and she was straddling his hips, one knee on each side. His eyes scanned her body as he responded. "It was summertime, I'd just come back from the war, you were engaged to Christopher Fell, and the week that I came back, you came out into town with him in a…very revealing corset dress that drove me insane." His eyes drifted up to meet hers. She was surprised, to say the least. He thought she would mention something else—burning his record collection on fire or something like that. Instead, it was this? "You tortured me, Claire, and for that…"

His hands went up to her restricting top, and she didn't expect what came next. Damon flipped them over so that her body was pinned against the mattress, and he completely shredded her top so that it was torn in scraps, and he threw it on the floor. An unexpected gasp escaped her mouth, and then she laughed, feeling the effects of the alcohol, Damon's confession, his maneuver, and his pleased expression at the sight of her half-naked in front of him. It was no longer her turn for control when his lips began to attack her body next; and there was no talking—just like always.

Mystic Falls, 1864

Damon and Stefan were walking the streets of the town when Stefan spotted someone in his vision and shouted a name that Damon wasn't very fond of. He immediately jerked his name at Stefan's shout of, "Clarissa!"

Damon watched as Clarissa jerked her head up and looked around, looking for the voice that called out her name. She had changed from the last time he'd seen her—before he was enlisted into the war. He'd been back a few days now, but he hadn't seen her or heard about her since his return. After all, he was too preoccupied with the new tenant in the Salvatore house to notice.

After all, she was the one that had ruined everything between them. And she was the one who decided to befriend his brother and break his father's drinking glass as retaliation for something he didn't do.

Stefan turned to his brother sharply. "Please be kind, brother. She's my friend, and I would like you both to be accepting of each other."

Damon's eyes weren't focused on his brother, because he was now focused on Clarissa. Like he'd noticed, she had changed ever since he'd left. She was…more beautiful, somehow. She'd grown a few inches in height, shrunk a few inches in waist size, and had better taste in corsets—something that he was now beginning to hate. This moment, this exact moment, Damon Salvatore was very…angry with Clarissa for not letting him do what he wanted with her. He was in control on the outside, but on the inside, there was one thing he wanted and one thing he wanted only—her.

"I'll…try, brother," Damon said, his voice strained. Stefan smiled to himself, but it was when Damon saw Clarissa smile at his brother that his heart began to pound violently. Her smile, it was bright and mature…so unlike when he'd left. He was regretting every decision he had ever made.

Until someone came up behind her and clutched her hand in his.

Damon growled to his brother beside him, trying to protect his voice from his emotions, "What is she doing with Christopher Fell?"

Stefan turned to Damon, confused. "You hadn't heard, brother?" he asked, and Damon just looked at his brother for him to continue. "After your falling out, Marianne and Edward had to search for someone else for Clarissa. They chose Thomas and Honoria's son, Christopher Fell, to be her new husband." He turned to Clarissa and Christopher, who were making their way over to them now. Damon felt his heart break in pieces and rage begin to coat his veins. As if it weren't bad enough that she was getting married, but to Christopher Fell? Besides his brother, Christopher Fell was one of Damon's closest friends. To be fair, he didn't know that they kissed; no one knew that. But, it was still a betrayal on so many levels. "They were announced to be married last week. She seems to be really happy with him."

"Good morning, Stefan," Clarissa chirped as she walked over to him with Christopher by her side, giving a polite smile to Stefan.

"Clarissa," Stefan returned, giving her an equally bright smile. Clarissa, hesitant, turned towards Damon and cleared her throat.

"Damon."

Damon's heart broke in a million pieces, and his desire intensified by ten times seeing her up close. She wore her hair down and loose so that it spilled over the tight corset, as if torturing him in a way that he did not care to be tortured with. Beside her, Christopher nodded curtly to Damon. "Mr. Salvatore," he greeted.

"Clarissa," Damon said smoothly, his voice icy. Beside him, Stefan shut his eyes and basked in the pain that came along with his brother's attitude. "Christopher. I've just now learned of your engagement." Damon's eyes moved to Clarissa, who winced in the slightest. "I guess a congratulations is in order."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" There was no doubt in Damon's mind that Christopher was speaking nasty things to him in his own brain. After all, Damon and Clarissa were the ones who were supposed to be married first, but after their falling out, their parents decided that it wouldn't happen. The argument in which their parents walked into had gotten so heated, they had to peel each other off of the other. "Clarissa and I are supposed to be married by spring of next year." He said nothing about Damon's invitation, and Damon suspected that he had none.

"Well, isn't that wonderful," Damon almost spat. Clarissa tensed beside her fiancé, and Damon's eyes roamed over her for a quick second. "My apologies, but if you'll excuse me." Damon turned to his brother. "Stefan, I will meet you at the marketplace."

Stefan, though angry at his brother's false promise to be on his best behavior, nodded and watched as Damon, with one lingering glance to the blonde vision before him, brushed past her and walked away without a single following word.

So, Claire was engaged to Christopher Fell. The actor that portrays him is on my profile, like all of the others. Fair warning, we haven't met Hallie yet and we won't for a while. I'm just planning ahead for the future.

Okay, so that's it for this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed! Tell me what you think in a review!

Love,

BellaSalvatore1918

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