Chapter 2: The Great Ring Swap

DAMON

I take a sip of Scotch and enjoy the smoky flavor sliding over my tongue, the perfect accompaniment to the peaceful silence of the boarding house. Today is the first day of quiet since the contractors finished and it is fan-fucking-tastic. Raising my glass with a smirk, I toast the first night of soundproof glory that I plan on truly, thoroughly enjoying.

The front door slams.

"Damon! Damon freaking Salvatore, you have some serious explaining to do!" A freight train of pissed off barrels into the living room, blonde curls streaming out behind her as she blurs to within punching distance. I raise an eyebrow and don't budge.

"Yes, my darling?"

Predictably, she hits me in the stomach and it takes all of my considerable back and ab muscles to stay steady and not buckle because man, my future sister-in-law packs a hell of a punch.

"What do you need, snookums?" I coo at her.

"Your heart, in the garbage disposal, you thieving little–" Caroline breaks off with an inarticulate growl and shoves her ring at me.

"There was a maker's mark inside my band. A tiny little designer stamp. And do you know what?"

"What, love muffin?"

I caught Stefan calling her his little unicorn last week, and it took me about three days to stop laughing. This joke isn't going to lose its savor for a long time.

"It's not there anymore, Damon," she hisses. "And do you know why?"

"The gold paint wore off? I told Stefan to go K-mart instead of the Dollar Store, but you know how he is about taking my advice."

She pushes the ring at me like she intends to implant it in my nostril, which she very well might. "Because this isn't my ring. Where is my ring?"

I shrug, taking it out of my pocket and flipping it to her.

"You don't have much of an eye for gemstones, do you? Took you three days. And you know what they say, Blondie. You shouldn't flash your valuables around if you want to keep them." I stroll over and add another log to the fire. "Oh, and I want mine back. Stefan might as well save a few bucks on his second wife. I'll save the cubic zirconium for her."

Caroline turns red, then slightly purple, and then takes a deep breath. She examines the ring closely, and then puts it on her finger and stuffs the fake one in her purse with a pointed glare in my direction. "You're going to regret this."

I believe her. She's a devious, terrible woman, but she's great for entertainment. I feel a twinge of dark satisfaction. Serves her right for making Elena cry.

"I don't know. I thought you'd take it as a victory." I set down my drink and saunter toward the door. "After all, it is the only time in my immortal existence I've watched the Home Shopping Network."

She stops me with a hand on my arm. I give it a puzzled look, because it doesn't appear to be trying to re-configure my bone structure.

"Damon, you know she'll say yes. All you have to do is ask her," Caroline says in a low, kind voice.

I press my lips together and glance away.

"I'm serious, Damon. There's no reason for you to be nervous. She adores you and she wants to be with you forever."

I don't answer, opening the door but then pausing again, my fingers tight on the doorknob.

"I'll help you pick out a ring," she coaxes. "Come on, you don't want your brother to beat you to the altar, do you? We could have a double wedding…"

This is not the first time she's mentioned a double wedding. Knowing Caroline, she'd design some kind of incestuous monogram for all four of us and skywrite the sucker for the ceremony.

"I–" I shake my head once, moving away from her.

Caroline chases after me and plants herself directly in my path. "Come on, Damon. I know we play around, but you know I care about you and I know how you get. She. Loves. You," she says, poking me in the chest with each word. "Am I going to have to get her to freaking ask you, or what?"

I clear my throat and swallow. "There's just one thing, that I can't…" my voice is strained and I pause.

She leans closer. "What? You can tell me, I swear to God I won't even tell Stefan. You know I always keep your secrets when it's important."

For a second, I almost feel a little guilty and then I remember Elena crying in the bathtub.

"I'm just worried about how I'll look in a tux," I confide in her, my eyes wide and vulnerable.

I'm poised on the balls of my feet before I deliver the punch line but she nearly catches me, taking a chunk out of my shirt as I escape with every bit of speed I can squeeze out of 170 years. I'm grinning as I run, even as I hear her screeching my name.

Once I'm safely hidden in the woods, I slow to a walk and start to whistle, reaching in my pocket to run a finger over the diamond ring still hidden there. On the second cubic zirconium, I had them inscribe a maker's mark. I doubt she figures it out by the wedding. If she's nice to me, I'll give it to her for their tenth anniversary.