A/N: Thank you guys so much for the warm welcome! I'm really glad to see you guys like it so far.

It was remarkably relaxing, walking with a serial killer who currently possessed or at least acknowledged no remorse. Even the knowledge that he was coming along just to better taunt his brother and make creepy eyes at her not twin didn't rain on Cynthia's parade. Damon was one of her favorite characters, even when he was being overly obvious with his grand evil plans. Bad boys were easy on the eyes and easy to love. That, and he was a darkly romantic figure. So dedicated to one woman for over a century, kept wound so tight that the only other person he let as close into his heart was another doppelganger.

Although, Cynthia was fairly sure there had been other potential love interests. A Nymphadora Tonks look a like and a star reporter. Their faces had blurred somewhat from her memory, hazy much like a host of other characters – people – that she knew might cross paths with her here.

"Sooo, aside from not killing me tonight and that you like dessert, I know terribly little about you. I'm a horrible fangirl."

Damon took her clinging to his arm and speaking so flirtatiously in stride. Little wonder, with his looks, he had to expect it on some level. Maybe not quite to the level she was laying it on, but the man had no reason to suspect just how trusting Cynthia was of him. What seemed like good fortune to Damon was intentionally calculated. Admittedly, to be the most fun and most guilt free for her, but calculated all the same.

He lowered his voice, ice blue eyes piercing and warming Cynthia's in an overly confident and well practiced manner."You forgot the devilishly sexy part."

"Oh, Damon. You're so witty and attractive!" She gasped, pressing her free hand to her chest as she stared right back up to him. "How have I survived this long without you?"

And it was quite the look up. Nina, er, Elena might have been shorter than her brother Jeremy, but Elena was at least average height. Cynthia was, in a (compound) word, fun-sized.

"One of life's true mysteries. I ask myself that question often. How do you people get around in your small little lives?"

Cynthia almost stuck her tongue out at him again. It was a close call. Her desire to answer overrode her first impulse.

"With sugar and chocolate. Obvious."

She pulled her hand out from his arm and danced away laughing. As much as Cynthia couldn't stop looking back and grinning at the bemused vampire, this Damon the playing the gentleman was positively gruesome. When Stefan had been stiltedly polite earlier, she had first thought he distrusted her. But perhaps a better way of putting it was that Stefan didn't acknowledge Cynthia as necessarily worth his limited time and energy. The boy was so focused on the face and being of the one he was 'destined' to love or some such.

Evil vampire brother was different. Damon indulged her, because he could, and because he was getting something from their interaction. He no doubt thought he was using her like a tool or a toy. Worse still was that, in a way, Damon truly was. Cynthia was tacitly giving him permission to keep stalking and torturing her not family. She should probably feel bad about it all. It was another reason to try and take Caroline's place as his first walking blood bag in Mystic Falls. A form of penance, given she had no intentions of making something that was inevitable more difficult than necessary, or not capitalizing on them when she could.

Just because this was all only in her head didn't mean it wasn't real.

And it also didn't make it any less awesome. Change all the things! Have all the dream sugar! Hey, if Damon fed from her, then drinking water and having snacks would only be her duty to herself.

The dreamer skipped up the last few yards to the Gilbert house. It had risen like a white knight along the street of unfamiliar houses. Cynthia almost worried that she was approaching the wrong one, since all she really remembered of the house was that it was sided with chipped painted wood and had a not insignificant covered front porch. Damon had been slowing his pace though, and the building in front of her lit the street for several feet. As she paused in the grassy yard, swatting at mosquitos that she definitely didn't recall haunting the lucky actors on camera, Cynthia noted the upstairs lights blazing, and no window screens to even pretend at protection and all.

Shrugging it off, she resumed skipping up the last few steps. Her arms swung to her sides, somewhere between dangling at loose ends and lifted into pretend wings. As soon as the balls of her feet made contact with the wooden porch, Cynthia's earnest, childlike demeanor dampened ever so slightly. She curtseyed low, grinning playfully up to his face.

"Thank you for so graciously escorting me home, Mr. Salvatore. May I impose upon your time to invite you inside for refreshments? Or has our time together drawn to a sad close after all?"

Earnest brown eyes met his cool blue, relishing in the macabre undertones of their byplay. To her delight, Damon continued to play along with her.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Gilbert. I would be happy to join you." After a few beats of Cynthia remaining in her curtsey, he added with a chuckle, "You may rise."

Cynthia wondered if the evil vampire brother thought she was insane. If so, she was quite okay with that assessment. If she was reading his expression correctly, Damon didn't consider her possible insanity to be a problem. Just strange.

She smiled brightly at him regardless, still viciously amused.

"Brilliant!"

The front door was locked, leaving Cynthia feeeling suddenly betrayed. Small towns were marketed as being trusting! She shouldn't have to break into her own home! Grumbling about attracting moths and advertising you were home made no sense if you were just gonna keep people who didn't have their house keys locked out, Cynthia searched above the door, under the mat, and under every potted plant and rock she could lift before finally finding a taped spare key.

She puffed a few strands of hair out of her eyes – at least for a second – then chanced a look at Damon. He was laughing at her and not even bothering to pretend otherwise.

"Forget something?" His voice and mannerisms were cloyingly sweet and Cynthia grumbled even more.

Ugh. He was having too much fun at her expense. So instead of responding immediately, she shrugged eloquently and unlocked the door. Hand still on the handle, she stared deep into the door's heart, as if waiting for it to reveal secrets to her.

"I forget plenty of things," Cynthia told Damon solemnly. "Why, if we hang out enough, you might even see me lose my head. That'd be just like me. I'm that bad." She finally turned the door handle. "It runs in the family. At least, I think it does."

Strictly speaking, Elena and Jeremy didn't have a track record of forgetting anything in the same way she knew she tended to do. Heck, her biological family didn't either. But Elena? Her so called twin? She had to be a planner, to be so socially involved and so detailed journaling her life eveery day.

But she did have the saving grace of the fact the Gilberts had would be compelled frequently enough. At least once had already happened in Elena's case, if memory served Cynthia well this time around.

Plus, who didn't love Finding Nemo? Wait.. It had come out, right?

Yeah, definitely. Lovely. Crisis averted.

Realizing that she was being inspected like a thousand piece puzzle, so heavily did his gaze rest on her shoulders, Cynthia cleared her throat and finally stepped inside the house. The petite brunette turned back to face her guest, and smirked right back to him.

"Please," she used the same overly sweet voice he had, "come inside regardless."

The magic involved had better consider her enough of a resident to issue an invitation. Her dream self had a room here, after all. If that didn't count, it was just cheating to make things more difficult for her, and Cynthia wouldn't stand for it.

Knowing what she did, it was easy to see the triumph glimmering in her guest's eyes as Damon crossed the threshold.

"Gladly." Charmer. "You have a lovely home."

Cynthia reached over and tapped the side of his nose boldly, a crooked grin stretching across her face. "It will be even more lovely if we can fill it with the smell of cookies. Come on, let's see what we've got to work with."

Much to her surprise, Damon continued to be pleasant and patient, even now that he had gotten his way and been invited inside. She had fully expected him to make a move of some sort, not this quiet observation and semi occasional bantering comment present now. Was he re-evaluating his plans to include her existence? Or was he simply too amused to rush things? Damon did seem to try and convince people to do what he wanted without relying exclusively on compulsion. But even still, he seemed so indulgent right now.

It kind of creeped her out, enough to get goosebumps. Damon didn't do much in the way of compassion for those who did not look like a Petrova doppelganger from her memory. Or his brother, but that was pretty shaky and she qualified for that one even less. When he was considerate, there was usually a reason, wasn't there? Damon could certainly be sweet, but only when he wanted to be.

Why did he want to now?

Especially seeing as he was still in an 'I am a monster and proud of it' mindset.

Trying to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth, Cynthia skipped towards the kitchen, finding it in record time. (Thank you, conveniently placed staircase for serving as a brilliant landmark from which to navigate.) Once there, she found herself opening nearly every drawer and cabinet for mixing bowls and spoons. The girl was fairly sure Damon had used the time she was preoccupied to figure out whose room was whose, because his presence had definitely flickered there for a bit. It hadn't been noticeable enough to be certain. Given that Cynthia knew just how fast he could move, however, she found any minute change in her peripheral vision to be suspect.

He returned – assuming her theory was right – and Cynthia once again had most of Damon's attention. She felt briefly victorious once she had all of the measuring cups and the like she thought she would need. Sadly, that victory would be short lived and bittersweet. Cynthia had gone searching for and through the pantry and hit a dead end. Clearly, the man noticed it.

"Do you even have cookie mix?"

Cynthia spun at the teasing reproach and pouted.

"Well, we have flour and baking powder and all. I could probably make a cookie. But I can't find any chocolate chips. What kind of family doesn't keep chocolate chips on hand? This is a disgrace! We'll have to settle for sugar or peanut butter cookies."

If anyone asked, she was not whining. She did, however, throw her hands up in the air in the universal sign for 'I wash my hands of this. I give up.'

The look Damon gave her would have been degrading if Cynthia had actually lived here her whole life and not been unceremoniously dropped into the story with no resources. As it was, she snickered as he slowly drawled, "Well, you are a midget. Maybe it's kept out of your reach to stave off these cravings of yours."

Further conversation – and the possibility of him uttering any dull platitudes – was interrupted. Once again, Cynthia found herself under a heavy gaze, but no longer the calculating appraisal Damon had. Another woman with jealousy inducing dirty blonde hair that shone almost copper in the kitchen lights had entered the room as Cynthia had been drawing a breath to reply. Unlike Vicki or Matt, Jenna's shock at seeing Cynthia was not calm or placid. Silence hovered for barely a moment before the woman her mental age – which should so count – burst angrily.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Cynthia? Do you think it's funny to just up and vanish without a word to anyone? You didn't even take your phone with you! Just left, as you please. No one had any idea where you were or how long you had been gone."

Cynthia shuffled towards Damon, clasping and unclasping several fingers. The bloody bastard was no doubt enjoying this. No wonder he had been so patient.

"I've called your brother and sister to help look for you." Oh, Jenna wasn't done. "And you just... what, waltz back home and stare at me like I'm the one acting irrationally! Cynthia, we talked just last night after my conference with Tanner."

Had they? Oh dear, she hadn't listened. It would really help if she had a clue what was going on right now. Fireworks were nice and all, but not when they were being shot at you.

"I'm home now," Cynthia pointed out, really not seeing the problem. Maybe explanations would help soothe Jenna's ruffled feathers. "And I brought home my new BFF. We're gonna have cookies to celebrate me not dying yet. Want some?"

Said proclaimed BFF took this as his cue to finally introduce himself to the currently no longer screaming lady.

"Damon Salvatore. It's a pleasure to meet you. I was just telling Cynthia how beautiful your home is."

"Jenna?"

A soft, concerned voice broke the moment with a single word, accompanied by the squeaking sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Have you had any luck? She still isn't answering my texts or calls. Stefan came with me to help look. He mentioned seeing her earlier."

Two sets of footsteps approached the kitchen as Elena was speaking, moving faster at the strangled sound Jenna made in response.

"I hope that's alright with you, Jenna?" It was Stefan's turn to be and sound considerate. "We thought she might..." His words tapered very sharply into tense anxiety when the two lovebirds reached full view of the others.

"Thank you, Stefan," Jenna's voice was still a bit strangled, but warm all the same in appreciation. "But, as you can see, Cynthia is apparently totally fine and has deigned us with her presence once more. She even brought a friend and wants to bake."

Hiding behind Damon's back didn't work nearly as well when he was engaging in a battle of wills with his younger brother. Stefan looked remarkably like a carved statue, if you ignored the part where his impassiveness held deep wells of fury and distrust. Regardless, Damon wasn't much protection. He was too busy gloating. Jenna broke out a bottle of wine, which honestly made Cynthia feel guilty. How was she supposed to know that they would react like this? So worried and anxious and abnormal?

Elena had flown right up to Cynthia, leaning slightly to firmly grasp the smaller girl's chin as she peered into her eyes. Cynthia suddenly had a great deal of sympathy for Stoner!Jeremy.

"What on earth were you thinking, Cynthia?" So like her aunt. "You terrified us when we realized you weren't in your room."

Jerking out of the doppelganger's hold, the petite brunette glared up at her not twin.

"I didn't realize I was under house arrest. I... the house was empty, and I wanted to see the comet." That ended far more plaintive than Cynthia had intended.

"You did?" Elena looked surprised, and Cynthia was almost insulted. She was getting really sick of all the shocked looks. Failure at immersion, 1000%.

Jenna eyed the brothers having their staredown first, and then the twins.

"Why didn't you just tell us that?"

Elena nodded in agreement. "You've been shutting us out for months, not saying a word, barely leaving your room. We hardly ever even see evidence that you eat. Then suddenly, you're going to town alone and bringing back a complete stranger - sorry, Damon - as company?"

"When did you meet Damon?" Stefan asked, his voice taut. He didn't even bother to make the question sound innocent.

"Gonna have to cut you off there, baby bro," Damon held up a finger, requesting a moment to speak without actually waiting for that request to be granted. "I'll have you know that Cynthia and I are BFFs now. Don't be so greedy, Stef. You can't have both of them."

"Yeah, sorry, Stef. I met Damon first, and I'm peachy keen. I mean, I'm flattered, but thanks no thanks."

Elena was not as amused as Cynthia and Damon were. "That isn't what he meant or why he was interested and you know it," Stefan's future or current girlfriend interjected. Jenna, meanwhile was working steadily through a glass of wine. It was possibly her second. She must have texted Jeremy since Cynthia was sure she would have heard a phone call. Probably.

"Look. I'm sorry that I freaked you guys out, okay? I woke up to an empty house, and when I looked outside... I just... I felt drawn to go look too. It just felt right."

She took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry if I hurt you by shutting you out before. I just needed time and space to grieve and process." She would also like chips. Chocolate ones preferably. Shh, serious mode.

"Anyway, now that we've completely made our guests uncomfortable..." Actually, Stefan was trying to convince Damon to leave. At some point, Cynthia had started gripping the man's hand though, and Damon was milking it. "Maybe Damon and I should just go, and um, hang out upstairs?"

Before she contributed too much to former party girl Jenna killing her liver even more.

Seizing on Cynthia's thoughts, and no doubt wanting to rub things in Stefan's face, Damon squeezed her hand positively conciliatorily. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Actually, Damon and I were just about to go home."

Three guesses who, and the first two don't count. Anyway, Cynthia was not putting up with it. She'd gone through a lot of effort and embarrassment to get Damon to choose her as his blood bag, thank you very much. She was the pilot of this dream, whether it wanted her to be or not.

"Oh please, it isn't like he has a curfew, right? I mean... I don't know how your uncle is with y'all, but I'm sure he doesn't issue a bedtime to someone out of high school."

She was pretty sure Zach wasn't suicidal enough to try and issue such unilateral demands of Damon, anyway.

"I really am sorry J- Aunt Jenna. Elena, you can totally grill me after school tomorrow if it makes you feel better. But for now, we are gonna hang out," Cynthia said decisively, jerking her thumb to indicate the evil vampire brother. "Sleep tight."

The spoilsports could put the now irrelevant baking supplies up now that they had completely killed the mood.

Plus, they had a better chance of putting things in the correct places.

Cynthia tugged on Damon's hand, hiding her smile at the cocky wink he shot both Elena and Stefan as he willingly followed her up the stairs.

"You want me to join you in your bedroom?" He cried dramatically, more for Stefan's ears than anyone else's she was sure. "But Cynthia, we're moving so fast! It's like I just met you."

This time, she did stick her tongue out at him again. "Get in here, already."

"Pushy, pushy." Damon waggled his eyebrows at her. "I like it."

All Cynthia could muster was a groan before flopping down on the – her – bed. Unnecessary complications were tedious.

"Mnn, yes I'm sure." She stared up at the ceiling as Damon lounged next to her. "Is this the part where we do each other's hair and trade gossip? I'm a bit rusty on sleepover etiquette. And fan girl etiquette, actually. Pretty sure offering sweets and having to renege, however temporarily, is not of the good though."

There were raised voices outside. Elena and Stefan were arguing about something, she supposed. What else was new.

Damon had moved closer, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair as he purred. "Yes, you really did rather promise me dessert. I'm going to have to collect some other way."

The vampire pressed sinfully light kisses to her neck as Cynthia's mind raced. On the one hand, she could make an excuse to get changed into something with a lower cut, less likely to be blood stained. On the other, well, she was proficient enough at getting blood stains out of clothing. Usually not shirts or pillow covers, but Cynthia was sure that the principle remained the same.

So after a few tense moments, her muscles relaxed in acceptance. She didn't want to fight Damon and put him in a bad mood. Cynthia did lean up slightly, tapping Damon's nose again as he smirked at her. She then started tugging off the gorgeous lace gloves she was already so fond of.

"I suppose it's only fair," Cynthia agreed equably. She didn't move to kiss him in return though. Sex was not on the list of things one does for friends, even if they were serial killers likely to kill you in a fit of pique. Leastways, it wasn't on her list.

The easy pleasure and mischief in Damon's eyes was intoxicating. He was very obviously enjoying himself and their wordplay just as much as Cynthia was, although he no doubt still thought her ignorant of it. Perhaps she would tell him tomorrow. It rather depended on how long this dream lasted.

Feather light kisses continued, brushing across her cheek, lips, and collarbone as Damon's hands played just under her t shirt. It was criminal, and she felt like a horrible person for enjoying it for even a second. She had a boyfriend she was very in love with, thank you very much. She shouldn't be dreaming about other men. And this definitely shouldn't be as exciting as it was.

"I knew you would agree."

Cocky son of a batch of cookies.

Cynthia reflexively grabbed at one of Damon's wrists. Either in retaliation or from simple boredom, she did so just as Damon decided play time was over. The veins under his eyes swelled and darkened with the rush of blood. His expression was pure evil and mischief as he held her gaze for just a fraction of a second before his fangs tore into the flesh and muscle of her neck. Cynthia wasn't proud of the keening cry of pain that she barely muffled to prevent anyone from breaking into her sanctum at such an inopportune time.

It hurt far more than Cynthia had imagined. Not really from design, but more from the apparent knots of muscles her body must have had from whatever kept her holed up for so long. Breaking past skin was one thing, through muscle an entirely different beast. She registered the hungry, almost gloating sounds Damon was making, but closed her eyes against the world as he continued to feed. Cynthia would deal with everything else when it was over.

For now, she lay back against the pillow and gingerly moved the arm on the opposite side of what he had chosen to feed on. Damon allowed her the movement, probably because she was moving far too slowly to ever be perceived as a threat, and she rested her hand on his shoulder. Then Cynthia closed her eyes, because at the rate Damon was feeding, unconsciousness would be taking over any...

Moment.

Adrenaline spiked through her as Cynthia shot out of bed. She felt first for her neck, tentatively edging over the scabbed over wound.

"Guess that answers the question of 'Am I dreaming?'" The girl mumbled as she pushed out of the covers. A quick turn of her head revealed Damon to be lying shirtless next to her, apparently asleep. Moving slowly, Cynthia walked on the balls of her feet to stay as soundless as she could. There was no need to wake a vampire up early. She, for one, did not want to find out he was grumpy in the mornings. The girl grabbed her gloves first, then agonized over her rubbish selection of clothing choices for a while, glancing back to ascertain if Damon was awake every now and then.

She eventually settled on an orchid colored knee length skirt paired with a lavender blouse with a neckline decorated with knotted flowers. Pairing it with calf high black boots and a sheer black scarf, Cynthia decided that she at least didn't look like her only clothing was from the junior's section at Kohls and Walmart. Also on the plus side, she clearly wasn't expected to know anything about fashion. Which was good, because Elena and her friends were far better than Cynthia ever would be. She could, however, pick clothes she would feel confident wearing.

Really, that was half the battle. And half was good enough for her.

Seeing as Damon was still playing Sleeping Beauty, Cynthia edged cautiously towards her door. If her closet had been big enough, she might have changed inside, but regardless she desperately needed a shower.

"Good morning."

Ah, Damon had apparently decided her turning the doorknob was a step too far with things so unresolved between them. Well, and fair enough. He had chowed down on her the night before. Some people might be resentful of that.

"Mornin'" Cynthia greed, just as equably as she had the night before. "You're not still hungry, are you? Because I'm pretty sure I'm suppose to have sugar before another donation. And I'd kill for a shower right now."

Her unfairly attractive BFF – he was not getting out of that as long as she was here – gave her an honest to goodness grin.

"I'm going to have to make it a mission to faze you, aren't I?" He asked happily. "You're fun. I like it. You just bounce back."

"I'm a Weeble," Cynthia deadpanned. "You've discovered my secret. If we weren't BFFs, I'd have to kill you, future brother in law or not."

"Mmn," he was still smiling, even as he grabbed her wrist and zipped them both back to the bed. Her poor clothes flopped all over the floor. "Speaking of secrets, do I need to be worried about you?"

The potential threat of mind control or death provided a cold dose of clarity. If Cynthia was ever going to tell Damon the truth, it had to be now. Because if this dream lasted longer and he realized she'd always known Katherine wasn't in the tomb or anything else? She might end up just as dead as Jeremy had and Caroline almost did.

Only more so, because Cynthia had no pretty ring to bring her back or vampire hero to save her right now.

She stared up into his eyes and slowly shook her head.

"Actually... Damon, I knew what you were before I ever invited you to have dinner or to come inside."

Wait, on second thought, why tell him. It would sound crazy, and he'd think she was mocking him. Even if dying did wake her up, there was no guarantee. Just like there really was no guarantee this was a dream like she hypothesized. He might believe her; he might not. And she really wasn't sure how to weigh the possible outcomes to determine which was best in her favor.

Speaking quickly before he could compel her, Cynthia added, "Do I need to worry about you telling everyone I'm a Weeble?"

Or exposing her in some other horrible fashion.

Damon's frown made Cynthia sure he wanted to call her a liar. Except, if he thought about it, she hadn't been the most subtle about inviting him in or to eat. She had wanted him to choose her. Banked on the fact he would want an easy invite inside more than he might enjoy twisted mind games with his original target of Caroline Forbes.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see." Damon's eyes were going to drill right through her. Trying to figure out her game, no doubt. She liked vampires and didn't like being party to potential rape. That was all. Cynthia wasn't sure he and Caroline actually had sex, but then the show was PG 13 enough to be aired on the CW. Who knew what went on off screen. "You will be telling me how you know."

Cynthia nodded reluctantly. "Shower first?" She looked up to him hopefully as she wriggled right back out of the bed he'd previously pinned her to.

"I'll get you breakfast," Damon said darkly, his eyes resting on her. "Don't think I won't know if you try to leave. And I'll be taking this as well." He waggled a flip phone that Cynthia assumed must be 'hers'. "So no getting any ideas. I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it, because it will not be pretty."

The now teenager saluted him with a bright smile. "Thanks, you're a real pal."

She really needed to figure out what story she was going to tell him. The truth? That she read the Gilbert journals? That would be tricky, given she had no clue where any of them were other than potentially the attic and inside walls. Well done, dead parental figures. Well done. That she had dreams of the future? Unhelpful, given she wouldn't be having any 'new' ones.

No, she was just going to have to tell him the truth. Have him taste her blood, guarantee she wasn't on vervain, and then compel her. It might give her the heebie jeebies, but it really had the best chance of working. Cynthia would just have to ask him to heal her afterwards.

Well, no point in worrying now! She was still alive, and there was quite a day ahead of her.

"Okay!" She chirped. "And then if you're still hungry, you're welcome to drive me to school. Or pick me up for lunch or after. Fielder's choice."

Cynthia scooped up her clothes and winked at the, once again, befuddled vampire. "Oh, and fair warning, if your brother asks, I'm telling him I felt compelled to wear this scarf today."

She walked away whistling as Damon laughed. He would probably have questions or demands later. Or he'd compelled her and just didn't let her remember. Either way, all was well and it was the start of a new day in Mystic Falls.

A new day involving having to go back to high school. She should never have agreed to this. High school hadn't been the most pleasant the first time around. Going back to be the focal point of drama and live in the shadow of the Queen Bee and Queens of Popularity? Cynthia physically cringed.

Yeah, Cynthia was definitely telling Damon the truth. She needed someone in her court to keep from going on insane.