A/N: Late update this week, sorry. To say I've been distracted by stuff in R/L would be a giant understatement. That included digging up spoilers about the upcoming finale. I'm too excited for words. I'd like to say thank you to Daisy for sending me all the spoilers she finds. You rock!

This chapter didn't go exactly as I planned, but then that seems to happen pretty regularly with this story. I am hoping to have the next chapter up sooner. I've edited this as much as I can, but my eyelids are heavy, and I can only hope I'm not missing too much.

Chapter 18

Caroline called on Sunday morning to find out if Elena would be attending Aunt Lydia's family birthday get together. Caroline's excitement when Elena gave her the answer echoed her own. She still had a long way to go with Damon, but he was opening up to her. Last night she'd laid herself bare before him, and had been rewarded with reassurance and tenderness that made her melt just remembering.

"Are you still listening to me, Elena? Or are you thinking about what Damon did to you in bed last night?" Caroline asked her.

Fantasizing about one fantastic new boyfriend: check. Tuning out on Caroline debating whether to wear green or blue: also check.

"I'm here, Care. Go with the green. You love that dress."

"You're right. Okay, well I'm going to go and start on my hair." Caroline gave a light squeal. "I hope Mrs Salvatore likes me."

Elena assured her friend everything would go well, before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. Elena had just been excited that Damon asked her to go, but after speaking to Caroline, she too was beginning to feel nervous. What if Mrs Salvatore didn't like her? Mothers could be extremely fussy about the women their sons brought home. She took a deep breath in and exhaled. Everything would be fine.

Damon had left her to go shower half way through her conversation with Caroline. She walked into the bathroom now to find out if he'd fallen down the plughole.

"What are you doing in there?" she asked him.

"I told you to join me."

"I was on the phone. Caroline had a color emergency."

"Color emergency?"

She thought she heard him mutter something about women, and Elena pulled back the shower curtain to find him with shaving cream on his face, and a shaver in hand. "How can you shave without a mirror?"

"Easy. Just watch."

She stood and watched him finish shaving, fascinated by the way he did it all by feel. When he was done, he turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped one of her hot pink towels around his hips. Her bad boy wearing nothing but a hot pink towel was more than a little amusing, and she couldn't keep the grin off her face as she brushed her teeth.

"Something has amused you," Damon said to her.

She bent over to spit out the toothpaste, and rinse her mouth out. When she stood up, he was right behind her. He swept her hair to one side, so he could kiss her neck.

"No. Not at all," Elena said, unable to stop looking at his buff body in hot pink.

"What is so funny?" he asked, when he felt her slight frame trembling with the laughter she was trying to hold in.

"Pink really suits you," she told him, doing her best to keep a straight face. "You should wear it more often."

"You know what else I should wear more often?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "Please don't say me."

"I wouldn't dream of it, but since you said it..."

His hands moved to her hips, slipping under her singlet, and tracing patterns over her belly. She shivered as he put his lips back on her neck, and sucked gently.

"Damon," she said, breathlessly. "You can't give me a hickey before I meet your family."

"Why not?"

Damon had been trying his hardest not to think about his aunt's birthday since he woke up, and now Elena was giving him the best possible type of distraction. He kissed a trail from her neck to her shoulder, sliding the strap of her tank top down; wanting, needing to indulge in her. He nipped at her with his teeth softly, feeling the tremor that ran through her, before cupping her buttocks and gently squeezing her behind. He didn't want to think about whether this would be the last Sunday morning they would spend together, or what she would say to him later. Right now he just wanted to remind her how much he wanted her. She was the most amazing, caring, and beautiful woman, inside and out.

Elena could feel him hardening underneath the towel, his erection nudging her bottom. She moved her hips from side to side, teasing him, feeling him grow harder still. She sucked in a breath as his hands slipped under her top again, one of his hands moving to fondle her breasts, the other delved into her shorts, and into her underwear, seeking out her hot, wet center. Her arms stretched out and grabbed onto the counter in front of her.

"Look at us, Elena."

At some point she'd closed her eyes. Now she opened them and found him watching her in the mirror. The highly erotic vision was one so captivating she couldn't look away from it. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath coming out in short quick breaths. Her eyes had darkened and looked closer to black than to brown, and rich color had flooded her cheeks. Coming face to face with her own desire in the past would have made her feel shy, or embarrassed, but now she felt confident and sensual – and adored. The man and the woman in the mirror were clearly in love, and in lust, enjoying each other.

Damon's hair was slicked back, still damp from his shower, and she could smell the shaving cream he'd used; it was something male and spicy, and inordinately sexy. His eyes were wide, and dark, and she could both feel and see how much he was enjoying touching her. Elena thought they looked like an advertisement for sex. His touch, which had been soft and exploratory at first, became firmer and more insistent between her legs. She turned around ever so slightly, so she could kiss him. It was awkward, but as his lips collided roughly with hers, his fingers took her to the brink. She cried out against his mouth as wave after wave of sensation stole through her.

Damon's erection twitched against her ass, begging for attention. She pulled on the towel he was wearing and it fell off quickly; her hand wrapping around his length. His head went back and she stroked him gently. She never took her eyes off him in the mirror as her hand worked up and down his length. Moisture pearled at the tip of his shaft and she thumbed the head softly.

"Bend over," he told her.

"Damon, the bedroom is just down the hall," she told him breathlessly.

"I don't feel like waiting."

His words made the simmering heat in her tummy erupt into burning need. He pushed down her shorts and panties, and when they fell in a pool at her feet, she moved her feet out of them. She gripped the counter, leaning over slightly, and felt the hard length of him between her thighs. His hands were holding her hips tightly now and she leaned forward even further, trying to put him in the direct vicinity of where she wanted him. She felt the tip of his cock at her entrance, pushing lightly against her wet and swollen folds.

He waited for her eyes to find his in the mirror. Her mouth formed a perfect O, which was followed by the noise "oh", as he started to inch himself inside of her. His controlled entry was enough to drive her out of her mind. She needed more of him, but with her hands gripping the counter, and his hands tightly holding her hips, she had no control over his pace or depth.

"Don't tease," she told him.

"You enjoy it so much more when I do."

"Deeper. Harder. Now."

She leaned over further still, so that her forearms were now resting on the cool counter, and she angled herself for the best possible penetration. She was rewarded by him thrusting his hips forward, filling her completely; her slick walls tightening around him. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his as he started to withdraw. His jaw was locked, his eyes were cloudy; seeing, yet not really seeing, as he slammed back into her body. She was a voyeur to her own pleasure; to their pleasure. His groans grew louder and louder as he pumped into her over and over again.

"I can't hold on," he told her.

He thrust into her one final time, exploding inside of her; the spasm triggering her own release. His hips didn't stop moving until she'd milked every last drop from him.

After both of them were properly dressed, and ready, they headed to the shops to pick up a birthday present for his aunt.

"What does she like?" Elena asked him.

"Mom said she likes gardening."

Damon had called his mother earlier, while Elena was in the shower, to tell her he would be there today, and that he was bringing a friend. Referring to Elena as a friend had been for Elena's benefit. It had been his attempt to reduce the comments and history that would be dumped upon her this afternoon. His mother, however, had seen right through it, and her excitement that he was bringing a woman home only made him all the more nervous. Of course he'd tried to warn her not to mention anything about grandchildren, but he doubted that had done any good.

"Okay, how about these?" Elena asked him, pointing at some weird spiky looking green thing.

It was all very domestic, he thought, spending a Sunday morning picking out flowers. They settled upon a rare plant which sprouted purple and red flowers at odd times of the year. He couldn't remember its Latin name or its other name, but Elena seemed to know both of them. He had a vision of her pottering in the garden after retirement; her own grandchildren running around the yard. It was a hard picture to swallow, because he'd never be the man to share that with her. He tried to ignore the part of him that asked; what was he doing with her if they had no future? The future was the future, he told himself, and this was the present. Right now, at this moment in time, he couldn't walk away from her.

Damon had been so quiet on the way to his mother's house that Elena wondered if he was regretting his decision to take her. He pulled up to the curb outside his mother's house, turned off the ignition, and looked at her. She waited for him to speak, but when he said nothing, she began to worry that something was wrong. Did he think bringing her here was a mistake? Did he want to take her home?

She touched his arm softly. "Damon?"

He rubbed his hand over his eyes a couple of times and looked at her again. "Before we go in there, I need to tell you something. My family, they're not what you'd expect."

Damon wasn't sure exactly what he should say about his family; about what was left of his family. His mother would welcome her with open arms, but the rest of them would not.

Elena smiled at him reassuringly. "Let me guess; they're different, they're strange, they're like no-one else's."

"Well yes, but-"

"Damon, everyone thinks their family is different."

Did he warn her about the nest of poisonous women she was about to walk into? If she spent much longer with him, she'd most likely end up joining them.

"What you see in there," he nodded towards the red brick home, "it will most likely change your opinion about me, and about what you want for us. I want you to know, that if that happens, I understand."

Elena wanted to laugh. What could possibly change her mind about how much she loved him, and what she wanted? However, his expression was intense and serious. Elena realized that any doubts and hesitation she'd picked up from him, about her meeting his family, weren't because of what his family might think about her, but about what she might think of them. He thought she couldn't meet his family without turning away from what they had.

How could he love her so much, but believe she'd run the other way as soon as she learned anything about him? She knew he had a past. He'd never tried to hide that fact from her, and she knew there were things in his past he wasn't proud of.

"Whatever is behind that door, Damon, won't change how I feel about you."

"I hope it won't," he said to her, giving her a smile that never reached his eyes. He pulled her closer so he could kiss her.

Elena sighed. He still believed he wasn't relationship material. Just because he'd entered into a relationship with her didn't change any of the thoughts and feelings he'd had about himself for some time. In his mind he had tried to warn her, but she would still walk away when she discovered the 'truth.' The fact that he was willing to allow her to make that choice showed what type of man he was. The only way she could change what he thought was to get in there and help him face his demons head on.

"Shall we?" she asked him.

"Let's go," he said to her, taking the keys out of the ignition.

Elena grabbed the flower pot they'd bought for his aunt, and they made their way to the front door of the house. Damon knocked twice before opening it.

"Mom," he called.

"Damon!"

An attractive woman in her mid to late fifties bustled down the darkish hall towards them. Elena guessed she was Mrs Salvatore. She was carrying a little weight, but Elena thought she must have been stunning in her youth. Her hair was dark, but streaked with grey in places. Her smile was warm and inviting, and her eyes were dark brown and soft. Elena liked her straight away. The apron she was wearing, and the smudge of flour on her cheek, said she was cooking up some sort of storm.

She hugged her son before turning to her. "You must be Elena."

"Hello," Elena returned, wishing she'd brought something to contribute, even though Damon had told her not to.

Elena barely had time to blink, before she too was being embraced warmly. The scent of nutmeg and cinnamon reminded her of how long it had been since she had eaten anything.

"For years, my boys never bring anyone home, now today both of them bring someone. My prayers have been answered," she said.

"Ma," Damon said.

Elena shot a sideways glance at Damon, who was shaking his head, and looking less amused and more uncomfortable. Was this what he was worried about? An overenthusiastic mother? Surely not.

"Don't you make that face, Damon Salvatore. It's taken thirty years for you to bring someone home." She turned to Elena. "Come, come. I'll introduce you to the rest of the family," she told her.

Elena found herself being walked down a hall, and into the kitchen, where a bunch of women were sitting. The smile she'd been wearing slipped a little, as they all stared at her. Their eyes were filled with something that Elena couldn't put a name to, and if that wasn't disconcerting enough, Caroline was already there, and she looked more than a little uncomfortable. In fact the look on her face clearly said 'get me out of here, now.'

Elena was so busy being overwhelmed by the sea of unwelcoming faces that she had actually forgotten Damon was there. She felt his hand on the small of her back now. There was a murmur from the corner of the room and Elena noticed the woman who made the noise was the oldest woman in the room. Her face was severely lined, and her mouth was tilted downwards. The woman stood up, albeit stiffly, and leaned heavily on her cane, walking over to the two of them.

She pointed her cane at Damon. "I thought you had learned your lesson."

"Mama," Damon's mother cried.

"I won't be silenced," Damon's grandmother said loudly. "For too long, I stand and watch every man in this family ruin lives. No more."

"This is my house," Damon's mother returned. "This woman is a guest in my home, and I will not have you talk to my son that way in front of his lady."

The old woman huffed. "You of all people should be taking this innocent girl aside and talking some sense into her, and Carole too."

"Caroline," Elena heard Caroline say behind her.

"That's enough," Damon's mother said.

"It's not enough. It was never enough. I tried to warn you about Giuseppe. You wouldn't listen. Now look at you. You lose your house, you job, your-"

"That's enough, I said. I won't ask you again."

The old woman harrumphed and leaned on her stick, looking from Elena to Caroline. "Run. Run as fast as possible, before you end up like the rest of us here."

She hobbled out of the room, leaving Elena there is stunned silence. Then Damon's mother turned to her. "I apologize. She means well, but she's lived a difficult life, and she sees the worst in people and situations."

"By people, she means men," Damon informed Elena.

Elena had a billion different questions running through her head, but she could ask them later. She took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, and the look of surprise on his face reminded her he really did expect her to turn tail and run like his grandmother had suggested she should do.

"She means well, Damon. Stefan is outside, go say hello to your brother. What can I get you to drink, Elena?" his mother asked.

Damon wasn't overly impressed by the dismissal. Being introduced to the Salvatores was like baptism by fire. Elena would quickly learn everything she needed to know about the family, and everything she needed to know about him. When she mouthed to him to 'go', he was somewhat reassured by the fact that she didn't mind being left alone. He could stay and argue with him mother, but he would lose.

Caroline, he noticed, looked like she wanted to break for the door. Stefan hadn't prepared her for what she would be walking into. He gave Elena a kiss on the cheek, and went to search for Stefan. The women inside, and men outside, was the way family gatherings had been for a long time now. It wouldn't be long till Elena twigged there were no men about.

"Damon, Damon!" Joey screamed happily, as Damon walked down the back steps and into the backyard.

A dark haired boy flung his arms around Damon's waist and held on for dear life, making Damon feel guilty. While staying clear of the family was a form of self preservation, his absence meant he couldn't shield the boy from the hatred Damon knew was inside the house behind him. Fortunately, Stefan was around most of the time, but Joey Salvatore needed as many male figures around as possible. The eight year old was still young and impressionable.

"You came?" Stefan said, clearly surprised.

"You were right. Elena deserves to know the truth."

Damon expected some smug, condescending reply, but instead Stefan looked more concerned. "How did Caroline seem?"

"Like she was about to break for the exit at any minute."

"I didn't want to leave her with them, but you know what Mom's like."

"She told Elena her prayers had been answered," Damon told Stefan.

Stefan shook his head and chuckled softly. "She's been waiting for this day for a long time."

"Pity she's still not going to get what she wants."

"We're playing soccer," Joey told Damon enthusiastically, cutting off further conversation.

"Soccer. Really?"

"Are you going to play too?"

"Okay, but prepare to lose."

"You can't beat me. I'm the world champion at this game, aren't I Stefan?"

"It's true," Stefan said. "Joey's the best."

"I don't believe it. Show me what you've got."

Inside Elena was being introduced to the rest of the family, a glass of wine in hand, the plant for his aunt in the other. Mrs Salvatore had told Elena to call her Anita. Now she was just attempting to memorize the rest of the names.

"The woman, who has left us to sit in the other room, is Caterina Salvatore, Damon's grandmother. This is Damon's Aunt Lydia."

Lydia's hair was in a tight bun, making the woman's face look pinched. Lydia smiled tightly. "Nice to meet you."

Her facial expression left little to no doubt in Elena's mind that she actually meant the exact opposite. Elena smiled anyway, and handed her the plant she's picked out earlier. She didn't know how long Damon would be outside. He had in fact not said hello to any of his family.

"For your birthday," Elena told her.

Lydia raised an eyebrow as she took the plant. "Thank you. You have good taste when it comes to flowers, anyway."

Elena didn't miss the look that passed between Damon's mom and his aunt.

"These are Damon's cousins Gabbie, and Bianca."

"Hello," they said stiffly.

"And this is Laura. Laura was married to Damon's cousin."

Elena found herself being offered a seat next to Caroline. "Is there anything I can help with?" Elena asked Anita.

"You sit and talk to your friend. She needs the company."

"Thank god you're here," Caroline whispered to her. "Stefan went outside as soon as I arrived."

"What's he doing out there?" Elena asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "But ever since I arrived I've heard one comment after another about how terrible men are."

It was then that Elena looked around the room and realized that there were no men in the room, and as far as she knew, in the house. While she'd been aware she was in a room full of women, she hadn't quite made the connection that the men were actually absent. Where were they?

She sat for a while and chatted to Caroline. She wouldn't have minded talking to the other women, but their expressions were closed and unhappy. Damon and Stefan were still nowhere to be seen, and Elena was getting the impression that she wouldn't see either of them until it was time to leave, or else everyone had gone. She stood and stretched, and without thinking, grabbed a tea towel with the intention of drying some of the dishes Anita was washing. Elena expected her to protest, but instead his mother smiled softly, before turning back to look at Caroline.

"Your friend looks unhappy,"

"Caroline is fine. She did wonder what is keeping Stefan though."

Anita nodded to the window in front of them. Elena followed her gaze and realized she could see Stefan, Damon and a young boy, around seven or eight years of age, playing in the backyard. Damon was wrestling with the boy on the ground, both of them laughing, and Elena could feel her heart expanding. She couldn't ever say she'd seen Damon look so carefree. The two of them got up off the ground and Damon pretended to take chase as the boy kicked a soccer ball along the ground, and between two outside chairs.

"I try and keep the boys out of the house," Anita told her.

"Why?"

"Both of them, though more so Damon, tend to take on the things said here. The women in this room have all been…devastated in some way by a Salvatore male."

Elena paused for a moment. "Every one of them?" she questioned.

Anita nodded. "My boys are different, but the others don't see it."

"They stay outside at every family event?"

"There's a lot of anger and hurt here. I thought keeping them away from it, and trying to limit it while they were around would make a difference. Now I'm not so sure. Stefan pretends it doesn't exist, while Damon has taken all of it on board. Such opposite extremes, and like with all extremes, unhealthy."

They fell into companionable silence, Anita continuing to wash up, and Elena drying each dish and stacking it on the side; both of them staring out the window at the two men in question. Elena had even more questions now, and Anita seemed open and friendly, but Elena didn't know how much she could ask Damon's mother without stepping over the line. It was, after all, the first time she'd met the woman.

When they'd finished washing the dishes, Anita was drawn into a conversation with one of Damon's cousins, and Elena found herself following a path of photographs. There were pictures of Stefan and Damon throughout the entire house. She'd actually taken one step into the living room, enticed by a larger photo of the Salvatore brothers, and missed seeing Damon's grandmother sitting there. Unable to turn away now, she walked over to study the photo she'd seen.

"That's my boy," Damon's grandmother told Elena, walking up behind her. She pointed to the man with his arms around smaller versions of Damon and Stefan. "Giuseppe Salvatore."

Elena couldn't get over the striking resemblance between Damon's father and Damon. They had the same dark hair, the same blue eyes, the same everything.

"Their looks aren't the only thing they share," Caterina told her, as if the older woman could read her mind. "Anita is in denial, that boy will bring you nothing but pain."

"You can't know that," Elena told her. No wonder Damon didn't believe he was relationship material.

"My two sons were both heart-breakers. I tried to warn Anita and Lydia, but like fools in love, neither of them would listen. Anita told me at the time that I didn't know my own son. But I knew only too well. Giuseppe and Geovanni's father, Alessandro, was a typical Salvatore man, and his mother tried to warn me. I should have listened when she said to me, 'Salvatore men are philanderers; they lie, they drink, and they have more charm than they know what to do with."

Elena shook her head, ready to jump to Damon's defense, but Damon's grandmother cut her off before she could.

"I can see you don't believe me, Child. You're stubborn, just like I was, and like Anita and Lydia too. We all ended up alone and heartbroken, without two pennies to rub together. Has my grandson told you about Lucy?"

Caterina took one look at her face, and nodded solemnly. "I didn't think so."

"If he hasn't already, he will," Anita said, walking in to the room. "Elena will leave us, please?"

Elena walked out of the room quickly. Anita's face had been fierce. She walked back to the kitchen just in time to see Damon walk through the back door, his hands on the shoulders of the boy. Elena smiled at them, and tried not to think about what Damon's grandmother had told her. Now she understood exactly what Damon had been trying to warn her about earlier. Elena walked over to them.

"Elena this is Joey, my cousin's son."

The boy with dark hair looked down at his feet, and Elena dropped down to his level.

"Hi Joey. I saw you playing soccer. You were pretty good."

His face lit up, and he looked at her. "You're pretty."

With this announcement the boy's cheeks turned pink.

"Thank you," she said to him, and the boy smiled.

Damon was smirking widely when she looked up at him. "Go give your mommy her flower," Damon told Joey.

"Are you ready to go?" Damon asked her, once Joey had run off.

She was more than ready to leave. She glanced over quickly to where she'd left Caroline. Her friend was smiling again now that Stefan had also come back inside, and Elena knew she would be fine.

"I'm ready," she told him.

"I just want to say goodbye to Mom."

"She's in the sitting room with your grandmother. I don't know how long they will be."

"You were in there with them?" he asked her.

"I was looking at a photo," she told him.

When he'd come inside he'd looked relaxed and happy. Now the tension was back in his frame and his face. "Come on, we're leaving," he said to her.

"Okay, let me just say goodbye to everyone."

Once they were done in the kitchen, they walked to the sitting room, where sliding doors had been closed. They could hear some kind of argument taking place inside. Damon opened the doors and popped his head into the room, halting their conversation.

"Mom, we're going."

Anita walked them to the door and followed them outside, before giving Elena a hug. "It was so nice to meet you, and I'll see you next time."

Elena wasn't sure if it was a demand or a question.

Damon didn't tell him mother that Elena probably would not come back. He was expecting some kind of lecture from her, about being away for so long, and visiting more often, but she surprised him entirely.

"I love you," she said to him, after he hugged her. She patted his face. "I'm very proud of you, every day. Never forget that."

"Thanks Mom," he mumbled, feeling hugely embarrassed by his mother's words.

He opened the car door for Elena, and watched her slide inside, before closing the door and heading around to his side of the car. He glanced Elena once they'd pulled away from the curb. She looked deep in thought.

"What did my grandmother say?" he asked her.

She looked at him. "She has a low opinion of the males in your family."

Damon nodded. "Did she bring up Lucy?"

"Only the name."

"Glad you came?" he asked her.

"Yes. I wanted to meet your family, and it doesn't matter what any of them say-"

"It does matter, Elena. You haven't heard anything yet."

"Then it's time to tell me, don't you think?"

"I do. But first we're making a stop."

Within ten minutes, they were at his place. He parked the car, and told her to wait outside the garage. A minute later he zoomed out on his motorbike. He took one of the two helmets he had with him, and handed her one. Elena looked at her watch. It was four pm on a Sunday afternoon and he wanted to go for a ride.

"I have some things I need to tell you; about my father, about Lucy, and about me; but I want to do it somewhere else. Will you come for a ride with me?"

Damon looked more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him look before, and Elena thought this was it. He was really going to tell her everything. She didn't hesitate.

"Of course."

"Get on."

Elena put the helmet that he'd given her on, and straddled the bike. "Where are we going?"

Her question was somewhat muffled, but he heard her anyway.

"You'll see."

She wrapped her arms around him. It was the first time she'd ever been on a motorbike and she was a little nervous as he took off down the driveway. As they reached the road, Elena had the thought that he'd spent the last however long in her world, and now she was finally going to see his world. She held on tightly, and told herself she was ready for anything he could show her.

A/N: It was my full intention to get to Lucy this chapter, but when I saw the length of this chapter and worked out what I still had to cover, I decided it would be better to cover it next chapter. An 8-10,000 word chapter is a bit beyond me at the moment. Apologies for that. Next chapter we're going to get a LOT of information.

Thanks for all your reviews, comments, PMs. They mean the world, and keep me going even when R/L is distracting. Thanks for reading and please review.