Hello darlings! Long time no write, I know, I know, I'm horrendous. I have just been busy busy busy and writing stuff like this takes a really long time! But I finally have this up, so do enjoy. This chapter is basically Delena feels so I hope you like it - I did ;)

Oh and quick favour to ask - please review. I know this may be irritating and you hear it all the time if you read fanfics regularly but if you do write them, you'll understand the complete amount of work that goes into these and only getting a few reviews makes me sad in the face. So do let me know what you think, even if you don't even have an account. You can leave guest reviews and I will love you forever.

Oh and finally, I should probably mention that I stole the name of the Liberation Militia from a book called Noughts (?) and Crosses by Malorie Blackman. Sorry Malorie Blackman!

The drive to Damon's was quiet. After the extremely emotional reunion of the Forbes, Stefan had insisted that I take the lift back with them in their fancy car that I imagined would have cost a lot more than my house. To be honest, it didn't take much persuasion – I was a bit scared of what someone might do to me if I stayed in the Pail on my own. I would have to work out how I was going to continue living there actually.

Caroline sniffled from the front seat, her eyes rimmed with red. She kept shooting me watery smiles which I dutifully returned. To my not so extreme surprise, the Forbes had welcomed her back with completely open arms. They were a little more cautious about Stefan but that was to be expected – they had never met him before and then he had nearly killed a man right in front of their eyes. But whatever.

We pulled smoothly into the Salvatore driveway, and I suddenly noticed how pretty and well kept it was – the drive was lined with perfectly spherical topiary bushes and flowers were planted in between each little tree. I would have to try to explore this place a little better at some stage.

We stopped outside the huge house and I saw that Damon was leaning against the front door, waiting for us and my heart thudded erratically before I could stop myself. He was wearing a simple black t shirt that clung to his muscles and dark jeans, and his raven black hair was slightly damp from his shower (at least I was guessing) and his blue eyes were piercing into me and he just looked so...no stop it Elena. I couldn't start letting myself find him attractive because then who knows what he could make me do?

"Alaric Salztman?" He asked as he stood back to let us into the house. I shook my head dismissively as I followed Caroline towards the kitchen.
"He's nobody." I called over my shoulder as I entered the light, airy room.

"He's a threat." Stefan corrected, coming close after me. I rolled my eyes. Alaric? A threat? To me, sure, but to Damon Salvatore? Hardly.

Caroline handed me a glass of water and I took a grateful sip. I was exhausted, and it wasn't even 9 o clock. I could tell it was going to be a long day.

"What's this Liberation Militia, by the way?" Stefan asked casually and Caroline and I glanced at each other.
"It's...it's nothing." I lied, taking a gulp of water. Damon snorted and I glanced up to see him looking at me like I was crazy. I realised that I was going to have to be careful about this – one wrong sentence and my entire family could end up in jail.
"If it's nothing, why are nearly all members of the Pail a part of it?"
I said nothing and Damon made an exasperated noise at the back of his throat before closing the gap between us so he was only a few inches from me.
"Let me just remind you that I'm the one in charge." He purred dangerously, his cool minty breath tickling my cheeks, his piercing eyes burning into mine. He was basically pressing me against the wall and I had nowhere to look but straight at him.

"Let me just remind you that I'm the one with information." I hissed back, meeting his gaze defiantly. Caroline laughed gleefully in the distance, but I didn't look over at her; this was a battle now – who would look away first. I knew better than to try and push him away – this would just piss him off or amuse him and I didn't really want either of those.

After a few moments, Stefan sighed and cleared his throat. "If this staring match is going to continue, I think Caroline and I will be going. We'll be back later." There were muttered complaints from Caroline but she dutifully followed Stefan from the room, leaving only the two of us.

I suddenly became aware of how sensitive my skin was – every brush of his hand against me sent a tingle down my spine. Dammit Elena.

"You've got fire in you Ms. Gilbert." He murmured, and I swore that my heart stopped for a minute. "All of these years, you've been keeping it down but I can see it in your eyes. Well let me just warn you, sweetheart. People like me? We love fire. But there are a lot of people who don't, people who condemn it in fact. So I'd be careful if I were you – you don't want to get yourself in trouble." He turned away abruptly, moving to the fridge and leaving me extremely confused.

"Is fruit salad ok for breakfast?" He asked over his shoulder like nothing was wrong, and when I didn't reply, he turned around to see me looking at him like he was crazy.

"Did you just threaten me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Threaten you? Ms. Gilbert, I told you that I liked your spirit."

"Well what's that supposed to mean?" I demanded huffily and he chuckled, sliding a bowl of fruit towards me.

"It means I like you, Ms. Gilbert. Now shush and eat your breakfast."

I nibbled on the last cube of apple, trying to ignore the way he was examining me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked eventually, finally meeting his piercing gaze.

"You're just extremely interesting Ms. Gilbert, and I'm using my incredible ability to work out who a person is, on you."

I snorted, trying to hide my discomfort. I didn't like people trying to work out who I was – I much preferred to be known as the girl with the slightly cool air, who wasn't in any way vulnerable or capable of being hurt. I needed people to see me in the way I painted myself to be – it let me trick myself into thinking it too. As soon as I let someone see the real, soft, easily hurt, scared Elena, I wouldn't be able to trick myself anymore.

"Well, do let me know when you're finished. I'm sure whatever you discover will be intriguing." I said as breezily as I could, slipping out of the chair to put my bowl into the sink. Just as the porcelain touched the stainless steel of the sink, he spoke to my back.

"You're not at all the person who you claim to be."

I turned around slowly, my heart thumping in my chest. "Who am I then?" I challenged, meeting his gaze full on. "I'm sure this will be interesting."

He got up out of his chair, never breaking eye contact. "You're a worried young woman who's a lot nicer than you let on." He said softly as he slowly closed the distance between us. "You're caring, and kind and generous and you love fiercely, with all of your heart. And I was right before – you do have fire in you. It burns slowly, meaning you're passionate. But you push it down, repress it, because you're scared that someone will see the real you. And the most important one of all – you're lonely Ms. Gilbert."

I was gripping the side of the counter so tightly that my knuckles were white. "Is that so?" I asked stiffly. "Well, Mr. Salvatore, I'm sorry to disappoint but that's not me at all. I'm not some...passionate ooey gooey person. I'm just..." I trailed off, unsure of how to finish that, because really, there was no right ending.

Damon's blue eyes were piercing into mine. "Why won't you let people see the real you?" He murmured and I wanted to both slap him and hug him.

"This is the real me." I protested shakily and he shook his head.

"This is not you Elena. This cold, calculated person who never lets anyone in? It's a mask."

He was messing with my head, I was sure of it. This was one of his little mind games, designed to make me break down and tell him everything. Who was he to act like he knew who I was? I had barely known him three days for crying out loud!

"Damon, I'm not doing this now." I turned away from him, beginning to angrily scrub the bowl clean.

"Well you're going to have to realise sometime, Ms. Gilbert that not everyone is against you."

"I don't think that everyone is against me. I don't even know what you're talking about!" I hissed through gritted teeth.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Elena. You don't trust anyone!"

I spun around to glare at him. "I don't trust crazy vampires who've put my father in jail and are trying to find out everything about me!"

"Princess, don't kid yourself. You don't trust me because I'm a vampire, because that's what your precious father taught you. Your precious father who's brainwashed you."

I was going to slap him. I seriously was. "You know nothing about me Damon!" I cried, my voice rising hysterically. "And I'm not your princess and all I want is to get this over with and go home but you won't stop trying to get me to tell you everything! What the hell do you want me from me? Do you want me to tell you that I hated my father because he was never home and always out at one of those damn rebel meetings? Do you want me to tell you that our family hasn't had enough money for as long as I can remember, and it's no thanks to my mother who just sits at home waiting for him? Do you want me to tell you what it's like to have a brother who puts his rebellion before his family? Do you want me to tell you how sick and angry I felt when I found out he had agreed to just give me away to you like I was nothing, as long as he saved his own ass? So yes, Damon, I have built up a wall, and yes, it's very rare that I've let people past it because I've learned that it's easier not to and after years of being let down over and over, it's just better to not have to –"

His lips. Why were they pressed against mine? This wasn't right. I had been yelling at him goddammit, why was he...kissing...me...?

My thoughts grew hazy as I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back. His lips were soft and cool and tasted like sugar and spice and there were butterflies dancing around my stomach and I was pretty sure there were fireworks somewhere. His hands were twisted in my hair, pulling me closer to him. Somewhere at the back of my mind I knew that this was wrong, but I couldn't force myself to pull away, no matter how hard I tried. Damon was far too...passionate to drag myself away from him. Passionate. The word he had used to describe me when he was...using his little mind tricks. Oh God, what had I let him do?

I pulled away from him, gasping for air a little. "Are you crazy?" I demanded, trying to ignore how lovely and tingly my lips felt. His eyes had darkened and I could see his teeth were slightly sharper. God, he looked good. No, no, no he didn't Elena.

"There you go." He purred, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped behind my ear. "You can let your walls down."

I spluttered indignantly. "You can't just go around kissing people!" I protested, trying not to let his hypnotising eyes distract me.

He chuckled and brushed my hair with the lightest of touches. "I can and I will darling. Besides, don't act like you didn't enjoy it."

"I didn't...of course I didn't enjoy –"

He cut me off by brushing his lips against my cheek – even this caused me to shiver.

"Lying is never an attractive trait Ms. Gilbert." He murmured in my ear and I had to step away from him, feeling my cheeks turning red. He stood back with a smug smirk, and I wanted to thump him. Instead, I gritted my teeth and snapped "What do you want me to do for the rest of the day then?"

He contemplated this. "Well, at some stage I'll obviously drink from you." I cringed at this idea, remembering the...events of the last time. He ignored me and continued. "But apart from that, there's not really all that much...can you read?"

He added the last part completely seriously, seemingly contemplating something and I flushed with embarrassment. What did he think us humans in the Pail were, uneducated idiots?

"Of course I can read!" I hissed coldly and he held up his hands defensively.

"Ok, ok, calm down princess, just a question. Do you read often?"

This did cause me to fault. I adored reading but books were so damn expensive and that meant only one thing in the Pail – you weren't getting any. Books, that is.

"Books...books cost money." I said emotionlessly by way of explanation and he didn't press any further, nor did he make fun of me like I'd expected. Instead there was a kind of glimmer in his eye and he smiled smugly.

"Come on then. Follow me."

I trudged up the third flight of stairs after him, wondering where on earth we could be going. I had a sneaking suspicion that this was just some trick or something. But finally we stopped going up stairs and he led me down a bright little corridor, stopping outside a white wooden door.

"This is my office." He explained, holding the door open for me. I stepped inside gingerly and could only stare. It was like the president's office or something. It was a circular room, the entire back section of it made of glass and showing the immaculate gardens. There was a massive wooden desk in the middle of the room, along with a leather chair that looked bigger than my bed. The floor was a plush blue carpet and the curtains velvet that looked so soft, I wanted to cuddle them. I looked around, wondering why we were here, other than for him to brag. That was when I noticed a big bookcase at the side of the room, just before where the glass began. It was lined with thick, leather bound books that sure, looked impressive, but didn't look like easy reading. I turned to raise an eyebrow at him and he gestured to the case.

"Go on."

I walked slowly to the case, pretending to look at the old books. Eventually I gave and turned back to him, prepared to question him or something but he spoke again.

"Pull out that red book." He instructed as he walked over to the desk. I glanced at him again, before turning back to the bookcase, preparing to search for the red cover, but it was right in front of me. I lightly touched the spine of the book, surprised at how...solid it felt. Almost like metal or something.

"Just take out the book Ms. Gilbert."

So I pulled, fully intending for the book to slide out into my hands. But no. It tilted to a 45 degree angle and stopped and then suddenly the bookcase began to move forward. I stood back, watching in utter amazement as the whole thing pushed out and then to the side, revealing...was that a room? A hidden room?

God, Damon Salvatore lived in luxury.

This time, I didn't wait for Damon's instructions. I just stepped into it, in awe. It was about the size of our kitchen at home – the floor was a light pine, and a bay window at the back allowed light to flood in. There was a single couch that looked like you would sink into it and the walls. My eyes swept along the multiple bookcases, stuffed to the brim with paperbacks and hardbacks and god only knows what other backs. There was literally no wall space free; it was all totally covered.

"Are all of these yours?" I asked softly, turning around to look at him. He smiled as he followed me into the room, running his fingertips over the spines of the books proudly. There were all kinds, everything from Dickens to Shakespeare to modern stuff. It must have taken years and years to gather all of these.

"I've had a long time to make this collection." He chuckled, as though reading my mind and I blushed at my stupidity. Obviously Damon had been alive for many lifetimes –God only knew how many. I contemplated asking him but he would get far too much enjoyment out of that. So I kept my mouth shut, instead scanning through all of the titles hungrily. What I'd give to get my hands on some of them.

"You're welcome to read any of them that you'd like." I heard him say from behind me and I spun around to grin at him, unable to hide my delight.

"Are you sure?" I beamed and he rolled his eyes but smiled.

"There's hardly anything else for you to do in this place. You go on and begin to flick through them anyway – I'll be in my office."

I didn't hang around – I immediately began scavenging through the books, feeling a little overwhelmed. He snorted and I heard him step back into his office quietly but I barely noticed – I had far more important things right now. It was then that I stopped and wondered if I had just made a massive mistake. I had promised myself that I wouldn't talk to him last...had that really only been last night? I looked guiltily at the space that led into his office. I had literally no willpower. But I mean...they were just books, right? Nothing that could make people think I was on their side. Just books. That was at least what I assured myself as I examined the cover of a tattered, well loved book at the edge of one of the bookcases. The Purple Haven. I flicked through it. It didn't seem like anything remarkable to be honest, but for some reason...it was pulling me in. Well, it wouldn't hurt to try it, right?

"Elena?"

I looked up at Damon wide eyed from the squishy couch. He was looking down on me with a raised eyebrow. I glanced down at the book, the world I had just been absorbed in, been a part of. I was practically three quarters of the way through it and I was pretty sure I wouldn't be the same after it.

"I've been calling you for the past five minutes."

I blinked at him confusedly, still halfway in the book. "Sorry, sorry." I mumbled, standing up and unwillingly going to put the book back.

But he stopped me, lightly grabbing my arm. That got my full attention. A sharp tingle ran through me when our skin came in contact.

"What book are you reading?" He asked curiously and I hesitantly handed him the simple paperback, feeling defensive of my new baby.

A weird expression crossed his face. He didn't really look at the book either – he just kind of looked at me.

"Where did you find this?" He asked and I nodded to the now empty corner of the bookshelf.

"Have you read it?" I mumbled and he laughed, almost sounding...freaked out?

"I...yes, I've read it. What do you think so far?"

I shrugged, not wanting to actually tell him for fear he'd make fun of me. His face dropped just the tiniest bit – the change was nearly unnoticeable but I didn't want to comment on it, mainly because I didn't really understand why. He would just deny it anyway – Damon Salvatore didn't do disappointment.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted any lunch." He murmured, changing the subject.

I made a face before realising what he meant. I was lunch. He noticed my eyes get just a little wider and he sighed.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Now come on, you need to eat something. You can't go fainting like you did the last time."

I glared at him and he rolled his eyes, turning out of the room, obviously hinting that I follow him so I obediently trotted after him down the huge stairs, trying to ignore the churning feeling in my stomach.

I took more notice of the size of the house as we went down the many flights of stairs. I had known it was big before, but as I examined it, I realised it was huge. The long hallways flooded with natural light went on for as far as I could see.

"Why on Earth do you need such a massive house?" I asked in amazement as yet another long corridor came into view.

He shrugged, glancing back at me. "Why not?" was his drawled answer and I rolled my eyes.

We were around the second floor when he spoke again.

"I thought you might be hungry so I made you quiche."

I rolled my eyes. What in God's name was a quiche? It sounded like a medieval torture instrument. I was about to mock it out loud when we arrived at the bottom stair and a gorgeous smell wafted towards me. It smelled delicious, pastry...and something else? Damon grinned smugly and held the kitchen door open for me.

"Eggs, bacon, tomato and some secret ingredients encased in the original Salvatore recipe for pastry." He told me as I walked past, somehow managing to make food sound seductive.

"You know, the fact that you made this when there are people without food in the Pail is a little horrendous." I informed him as I slid onto one of the chairs on the island in the centre of the kitchen. I didn't say it to make him feel bad – it was just a fact. But Damon stiffened, glancing at me over his shoulder as he took the quiche from the oven.

"Did your family have enough food?"

Now I stiffened, a little caught out by the personal question. "Usually. More so in the last few years." I answered carefully, playing with my thumbs and not really looking up. "I mean sometimes we wouldn't have too much. Dad used to have friends over and they would...take it."

He did that 'pretending not to be curious but completely is' thing and turned around to look at me fully. "Friends?" He asked lightly and I gave him a pointed look. He persisted however and eventually I gave in.

"Members of the Liberation Militia, Damon."

"Why would they take food?"

I hesitated again and Damon sighed.

"Elena, I'm not going to tell all of this to the government. I was just interested, that's all."

He turned back around, to add seasoning to the quiche or whatever, I don't know. He wasn't pressing me – he was giving me a choice. But suddenly, I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell someone who wouldn't judge me (probably, considering that the Militia was in place to bring down his kind) for not being proudof my father and instead just being angry at him. Plus, Damon didn't even work in the government. What harm could he do?

"That's the price. Of being in the Militia."

Damon turned around to face me, looking interested. "It's like a way of payment." I explained, suddenly unable to stop the words from coming. "But we don't have money – nobody does. Plus even if we did have it, what could we do with it? The Pail isn't exactly full of shops or investment opportunities. Food is something everyone wants and needs. So that's how you prove that you're loyal to the Militia. The leaders come and take most of your food, even if you have a family, even if that means you'll starve. It shows that...it shows that you're putting the rebellion before your own flesh and blood."

Damon looked a little horrified – I couldn't blame him.

"So you mean to tell me that it's a sick...initiation?" He said slowly, putting down a slice of a delicious looking pie – quiche? – in front of me.

"Kind of. The rebels don't take kindly to anyone who may be disloyal and spill secrets. It's like a preventive measure I guess."

His knuckles were clenched so tight that they were turning white. "You ok?" I asked slowly, and he nodded quickly, his voice tight.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, of course. You...you eat up. I just...I have a phone call to make."

I shot straight up without thinking. "You can't tell anyone!" I screeched, and he froze. "You can't tell anyone what I just told you, you can't!" I continued desperately, now wondering what massive mistake I had just made. "They'll kill me, do you understand? I shouldn't have told you, oh God, I shouldn't have told you –"

I was cut off when he appeared inches in front of me. "I won't tell a soul, ok?" He murmured, brushing hair out of my face. "I said you could trust me and I meant it."

I would have calmed down but now my heart was thumping even faster due to the fact that his lips were just a little bit away from mine. I mean heck, I could lean in just a little and we would be kissing again...no.

I turned away quickly. "Thank you." I said quietly and he shrugged.

"It's not a problem princess. Now eat your food, I'm getting hungry."

I winced at this little comment but obediently sat down and had my fork all ready to dive into the thick, warm pastry when Stefan crashed into the kitchen, looking grim. Damon immediately stood up straighter, staring at him. Stefan looked from me to him to me again.

"It's the Pail." He said softly and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Damon tense even more. "There's been a rebellion."

Gah I hope you enjoyed this. And remember the favour that I so lovingly asked of y'all - Review? :)

Bye my darlings,

x