Chapter Twelve: Anticipating

You know that feeling, when everything seems so out of control you just know what you have to do? Almost like autopilot, where you just let go and your body takes care of the rest. Well, that's how I was feeling, and I'll admit, I wasn't feeling that bad about it.

I knew in my heart that I wouldn't regret this before the first sock was even shed. I wanted to be set free, and this man, this complicated, dangerous, was helping me to do just that. And I wasn't scared. I couldn't feel anything. And so I grabbed on tight to his muscled shoulders and allowed him to carry me back to his room.

Panting.

"That was..."

Heat beating.

"...Great."

We collapsed together in a tangled heap, our bodies intertwined like they were always meant to be.

There was nothing awkward about it. We were peaceful together, happy.

I wanted to stay that way forever. My confusion was gone. My fear was a thing of the past.

What would I do now? How could I just go back? People were bound to have gotten the news from John.

John. My agent. Was he worried about me? He should be. He's more to me than my agent. He's my family. We're both Gilberts. Distantly related of course, but kin nonetheless.

What would happen when I went back? How would I keep the tears from falling when they asked me what had happened? How would I explain that I had been taken by a vampire pretending to be enamored with me to catch another vampire really enamored with me?

What if I break, and I cannot perform anymore.

No one will want me then. Not even Jenna.

But, at least I have this moment. This one, single moment where I snuggle into Damon's chest and let me worries drift away.

Swivel chairs. Alaric Saltzman never really got the concept, really. I mean, isn't a chair supposed to offer support and stability? Twisting and turning all around is hardly that. And besides, they are so easy to tip over...

"Alaric! What on God's earth are you doing? Get up!"

It had been like this all day, back and forth between them. This was the fourth morning that their superstar had been missing. They knew the odds. 72 hours without the victim found and they were as good as gone. Well, three days had certainly passed. Tips had been pouring in. None of them were legit, though.

None of them had led them to Elena Gilbert. One women had thought that she had seen Elena at a convienece store in Alaska. Dead end there. The women had turned out to be a petitioner trying to raise awareness for some stupid group cause down there. She had thought that if she could get some light shed on the town via the newspapers that more people would come to support.

The other big lead they had had turned out to be much of the same thing. Some guy was higher than a horse when he called the FBI to turn himself in for killing Elena and "chopping her body into itty bitty pieces."

People were real crazy these days.

Anyways, they had been working this morning on organizing a brand new search party for their MIA pop singer. It was going to be huge. They had already been talking with The Center For Missing and Exploited Children and they had agreed to join forces to fund a nation wide tour called "Bring Her Home." The tour would consist of a mix between professional paid searchers and volunteer searchers in several busses that would check out leads about Elena, search for clues about her dissapearance, and ultimately find the damn girl.

John only had so much patience about this matter, but it helped that they were able to promote Elena ten fold during her absence. Maybe he should stage kidnappings for any future clients who were having a tough time breaking in to the industry. Well, he doubted that would work as well. Part of the reason that people had been so worried about Elena was because she was.. well.. her.

Elena Gilbert was incredibly kind and good natured for such a star. She had a positive attitude and adored her fans. Because of that, they adored her right back, and were very apparently worried about her.

Back on topic, after the "Bring Her Home" tour bus "located" Elena, the group would continue to search for other missing children. Well, a smaller version of the group, that is, a much smaller version. They wouldn't be getting nearly as many volunteers for regular folks, and The Center didn't want to pay for the startling number of professional searchers that they were at the moment.

Yes. Everyone was focused on getting Elena home safe and sound. Except of course, the person who took her.

"Damon? Where'd you go?" Elena called out into the dimly lit hallway of his penthouse. It was approximately.. "who knows" AM, and she had just woken up from a hard nights work with Damon, if you catch the drift.

He called back to her almost immediately.

"I'm here! Just making some breakfast."

Elena hurried to the kitchen when she began to smell the cinnamon and sugar in the air.

She was feeling intense Deja Vu, but tried her best not to think about her other experiences here. Blocking out the broken furniture in the distance, she sat down at the bar and happily excepted a plate from him.

This time, there was smoked salmon from before, which she had absolutely loved but had been too mad to admit. Along with it there was french toast, fruit and some yummy looking yogurt. Perfectly balanced health, just like she liked it.

A sleepy person's dream.

Damon flashed her a million dollar smile as he wiped his hands on a dishcloth and joined her with his own plate.

"So.. how'd you sleep?" It was obviously a joke. The two of them didn't get any sleep the night before. They had rounds two, three, four and eight.

Elena smiled back amicably.

"Was I supposed to fall asleep before or after you..." He cut her off.

"Hey! It wasn't my fault you don't like wipped cream."

Elena hit his arm affectionately.

"I like wipped cream just fine, thank you! I just don't like it all over my..."

They laughed together in utter harmony and continued like that for the next twenty minutes or so before they threw their dishes in the sink lazily and went to the living room to watch some TV.

At the back of her mind, though, Elena couldn't help but think about Stefan. She was still shaken from this whole ordeal, and she wasn't convincing anyone of the opposite. It was very obvious what she was really feeling, but she kept pushing it down. She didn't want to think about later or before or anything but the present. She was happy now. And it was deranged and horrible that she could feel this way with someone that she'd gotten to know through very questionable terms, but she pushed all of those thoughts back down, too.

No one can make someone else feel something they don't want to. But was it really possible for Elena to have such strong feelings all of a sudden? Or was something else more sinister happening to her mind?