A/N: Oh my goodness! You guys rock all my socks off! (Now I have to go buy new socks, totally acceptable arrangement!)

All my love to my fabulous beta, Trogdor19, may she find some sleep one day soon. *hugs*

Chapter 15: Faces I See

"Rascal," Elena says excitedly, fully turned in the passenger seat to look into the back where her new best friend is panting eagerly at her attention, and I squeeze her hand before letting her go so I can downshift to pull into the driveway. "What's on the top of the house?"

He barks and she coos at him, reaching back to rub his cheeks and behind his ears and he's totally soaking it up.

"That's right! The roof!" she tells him proudly, and I snort.

We've spent the last few hours at the dog park, throwing his purple Frisbee in an effort to distract him. Because apparently Rascal has deemed me a threat to Elena's person and has been getting super overprotective every time I kiss or touch her. Crazy fucking dog. But basically we've just been running around and laughing and reveling in the sunset and having a total and complete blast.

When my dog isn't knocking me around, trying to get me away from my…from Elena.

"Who do you love best? Me or Damon?" she asks him as I turn off the car, and he damn near jumps into her lap.

"Hey!" I call out and nudge him into backseat with my elbow, his paws bunching up the towel I put down for him in an effort to save my upholstery. Although, it doesn't help when Rascal refuses to stay in the back where he's supposed to. "Traitor!"

"See?" she beams at me. "He totally loves me best!"

I grin and shake my head. "You two are ridiculous."

"You're just jealous," she says haughtily, then turns around to rub and pet Rascal some more. "Isn't he?" she says all babyish. "Isn't he just so jealous?" He barks at her and I roll my eyes. "I know! I know he is, but that's okay. We won't tell him, will we? No…"

Rascal tries to clamber up into her lap again and she giggles adorably, and it only encourages him more.

"Alright, knock it off," I tell him and scratch under his chin before gently pushing him off of her. "If you get past first base before I do, you're in deep shit."

"Damon!" Elena gasps and I look at her.

"What? It's the truth."

"You're just…" she says in that gorgeous hates-that-she-loves-it, reprimand-face she does.

"Just what?" I smirk and unbuckle my seatbelt.

I lean over to kiss her, Elena not even bothering to act nervous or coy about it anymore, and I'm a breath away from my goal when my damn dog starts growling at me.

We both turn to look at him from where's he watching us closely, his body preparing to leap into the front seat, and then he licks me in the face.

"Jesus! That's disgusting!"

"Guess he does love you more," she winks at me and I narrow my eyes at her.

"Hilarious," I deadpan, wiping off my face. "Alright, I'm just dropping him off inside and then we're heading out. You're not coming," I tease, and she bats her eyelashes at me in a level ten pout.

"Please?" she says and I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head at her. "I haven't seen her in forever since you kidnapped me last weekend and it'll only be a few minutes."

"No," I say seriously for probably the fifth time now. "We are not hanging out with my mother."

"Damon," she whines and I groan, dropping my forehead to the steering wheel.

"Five minutes, Gilbert," I concede, because she's just so damn cute and I'm totally fucked because yep, I'm addicted to her smile. "Five minutes and then we're leaving."

"No promises," she whispers and then she's hopping out of the car, far beyond my scrabbling reach.

She grins proudly as she stands with the door open, not at all concerned with me scowling at her, and as soon as she whistles Rascal immediately barrels past me to jump out of the car. She snickers and shuts the door, practically skipping away.

"Mm-hmm," I nod when I reach them by the front door, Elena tilting her head at me innocently.

"What? I had no idea he would do that…"

"Sure you didn't," I tell her, and then start peppering a whole bunch of kisses all over her cheek and neck while she giggles and squirms.

"You're covered in dog slobber!" she laughs as Rascal starts barking like crazy, and I pull back from her.

"You love it," I tell her then open the door.

"Crazy," she mutters as I poke my head in, and I don't see my mom. I let Rascal run through the door and then I turn around.

"She's not here, let's go…"

"Baby, is that you?" my mom calls from the kitchen and I sigh in defeat, Elena grinning happily and lightly pushing me backwards through the door and into the house.

"Don't you ever leave?" I call back as I close the door, and Elena shoves my shoulder.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" she calls back. "And you have good timing because I need you to come open this jar..."

I grab Elena by the hips, spinning us around so her back is pressed against the door and she gasps in shock. "Damon!" she breathes with a wide smile, and slowly I peel one corner of her white cardigan off of her shoulder.

Delicately, I kiss the skin it was hiding before my lips trail over every inch of space that separates her shoulder from her neck, and when I nudge my hips harder against hers and nip behind her ear, her back arches under a hushed moan.

"It's completely stuck!" my mom whines and Elena jumps. "God, who makes these things?"

"Are you going to go help her?" Elena whispers and I shake my head no, then continue my exploration to the underside of her jaw. Her hands cradle my cheeks and tilt my face up so I'm forced to look at her eyes, and I pout dramatically. "Are you even going to tell her I'm here?"

"Why? Then she'll never let us leave…" I whisper back playfully.

And troublemaker that she is, Elena tugs my mouth to hers and kisses me hungrily, and I'm fully on board with this plan when I realize she's walking us backwards. Hopefully towards a bedroom.

I stumble down the slight step that drops the foyer into the living room and she laughs softly, scurrying away to go stand on the other side of the couch because I lost my grip on her when I also apparently forgot the layout of the house I lived in for the majority of my life.

"Cheater," I hiss as I take a menacing step forward, and she darts further away, holding up a warning finger with a beautifully bright smile as she straightens her cardigan.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Mom says and I arch an eyebrow at Elena. "I need your help because this jar is not going to be the reason why I meet an early gra— Elena!" my mom suddenly squeals and both Elena and I turn to see her standing at the entryway between the kitchen and the living room, looking like I just brought her that really disturbing wish of a miniature version of Martha Stewart that she gets to keep in her apron.

Woman is cracked.

"Hi Anita," Elena beams and immediately rushes over to hug her, both of them squeezing the other tight and we are never getting out of here.

"Oh my goodness!" my mom gushes, pulling back to grip Elena by the shoulders even with the jar of mustard still in her hand. "You look beautiful, honey! It is so good to see you!"

"Thank you," Elena tells her graciously. "I'm so sorry I missed you last week, but someone," she says pointedly and glances at me, "changed my plans at the last minute."

"Oh, sweetheart, it's fine. I know you probably have better things to do with your time than to gossip with an old bird like me," my mom coos at her and I loudly clear my throat, crossing my arms as I lean against the back of the couch. "Hello Damon," my mom says flatly without even bothering to look at me, and I scoff.

"What did I do?"

She hugs her arms around Elena's shoulders, both of them looking over at me with their temples pressed together, and Elena seems happier than I've ever seen her while she's sober and my mom is glaring at me and this is ludicrous.

"You didn't tell me you were dating Elena," my mom scolds and I roll my eyes.

"How was I supposed to know you guys were besties?"

"That's beside the point," she tells me and I push off from the couch, walking over to where they're still joined at the hip. I snag the mustard jar out of my mom's hand and twist the lid off easily, then smirk and carry it into the kitchen. "Didn't I tell you he was handsome?" I hear her whisper to Elena and I shake my head.

"You weren't kidding," Elena laughs and I stand a little taller. Okay, maybe this isn't that bad.

"Wait 'til you see his baby pictures, kid was a born looker…"

"Fuck no!" I yell out and both of them simultaneously screech my name in a reproach.

God, it's like they've been practicing or something.

"No time for pictures, we're leaving," I say and go to stand behind Elena, unsuccessfully trying to pry her loose from my mom while they laugh and cling to each other, refusing to let go. Rascal starts barking and growling at me, and I throw my hands up in exasperation.

"Sweetheart, are you hungry?" my mom asks Elena, leading her into the living room. "I was just about to eat dinner…"

"That sounds wonderful, Anita, thank you," Elena tells her and after I have a silent, spastic freak-out-gesture-fest that neither of them see, I go to follow them, openly glaring when they sit down on the couch. Side by side.

"Stop making that face, you're always hungry and it's not like I'm not going to feed you too," my mom says and turns back to her favorite person ever. "So, honey, how have you been? I'm so excited you're here! But please don't tell me he's been letting that dog jump all over you…"

"He can hear you," I say and collapse into the oversized chair next to the couch.

"He's been very nice," Elena tells her and I smile sarcastically at my mom.

"What do you think you're doing? Go check on dinner," my mom snaps at me and Elena bites her lip to hide her laugh.

I drop my head back with a groan and then haul myself up, tossing a throw pillow at Elena. "You remember this," I tell her pointedly and she blushes. "Come on, Rascal, there's way too much estrogen in this room anyways."

I start to head into the kitchen with my dog following dutifully behind me, Mom calling out, "Don't feed that animal anything but dog food. Do you hear me, Damon?"

"Yeah yeah yeah," I mumble and wash my hands, and my face from where he licked me earlier.

I glance around and she's got a bowl of chips out because the woman is a snacker if I've ever met one, but what the fuck was the mustard for? Whatever. I pop a chip in my mouth and then toss one to Rascal.

"Damon!"

God, how does she do that? She can't even see me…

"What?" I mumble while chewing, listening to them already chattering away about stuff I can't make out and probably don't want to know, and I check the oven. I blow out a breath when I see she's got a pot roast in there which smells awesome, but yeah, that's a problem.

I look at Rascal and he licks his lips.

"What are we gonna do about that, huh?" I ask him and he tilts his head at me. "Yeah, you're no help. Go distract Elena from whatever Mom is saying, and I'll give you a treat," I tell him and flare my eyes, and he bounds off to the living room; Elena bursting out in giggles two seconds later as my mom yells at him to get down.

Dog is a fucking badass.

I finish setting the table and peek at Mom and Elena still in the living room, happily talking and laughing and both almost finished with their glasses of wine I took them earlier. I'm not sure how I got wrangled into making them dinner, but if I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it right.

I go back and finish carving the pot roast, serving what will be mine and my mom's plates before setting them aside and taking the rolls I made from scratch out of the oven. They're perfectly fluffy and golden brown, and they're going to melt in Elena's mouth like cotton candy. Then it's a few finishing touches on Elena's salad: a masterpiece of spinach tossed in my kickass raspberry vinaigrette then topped with a diced pear, a sprinkling of toasted walnuts and bleu cheese crumbles. Fuck you, Emeril.

I carry everything over to the table, and we're looking mighty fine.

"What have you been doing in there, baby?" my mom asks from the living room and I cross my arms, leaning against the table.

"You told me to check on dinner, so I did, and took care of all the crap that you forgot. Senile that you are."

"And what did I forget?" she asks haughtily and I roll my eyes, Elena giving me an amused smile as she takes her last sip of wine.

"Bread, Mom."

"Oh no, what would we ever do without bread?" she says sarcastically, then turns to whisper at Elena. "He makes the best rolls, Elena. Has he cooked for you?"

"No," she says while grinning at me. "But I'm promised a recipe or two."

"We'll see about that," I tell her and push off the table to grab the bottle of wine from the kitchen.

"Elena, do you like pot roast?" I hear my mom ask and I chuckle quietly as Elena delicately clears her throat.

"Everything smells wonderful, Anita," she says in that perfected dodge she uses at work, and I barely contain my snort.

"We gonna eat or what?" I call out and take the wine to the table, finding both of them getting up from the couch.

"Thank you, baby, the table looks lovely," my mom smiles when she walks past me to head to the sink.

"Pot roast," Elena mouths worriedly once my mom can't see, and I walk into the living and take Elena's glass, running a hand down her arm.

"Took care of it," I tell her quietly and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she whispers, then bites her lip with an adorable nose wrinkle that I'm quickly becoming a total sucker for. "I need to wash my hands…"

"Bathroom's at the end of the hall," I smile and nod, letting her go.

And I'm not sure why, though maybe it's because I've been subconsciously waiting for this since the moment we pulled into the driveway, but I watch her carefully as she makes her way down the hall. She doesn't seem to notice the pictures that line the wall at first, but then something seems to catch her eye and she does a double take, stopping completely.

I set down her empty wine glass on the coffee table and she's so focused on staring at the photo she's standing in front of, she doesn't even register it when I stop behind her.

"I'm on the left," I tell her quietly and she jumps a little, then leans back against me.

"You have a brother," she breathes and I watch her profile, waiting for her to recall that siblings were a not-so-sunny skeleton in my closet. Although it's possible she was too drunk to remember all of the conversation we had in my car after the night we spent at the lake. "A twin, Damon."

"Mm-hmm."

She peeks over her shoulder to smile at me. "You could be someone else entirely, for all I know," she teases. "I mean, look at you guys! Talk about identical…"

I clear my throat. "Yeah, Mom's the only one that ever got us straight."

"Exactly, so how do I know you're you and not…"

"Devon," I supply and she shakes her head.

"You think you know a person," she says playfully, then returns to looking at the picture of me and Devon.

We're standing side by side with our arms crossed, him smiling in a black t-shirt while I'm scowling in a white one, and it was the last picture we ever took together, just a few weeks before it happened.

"I bet you two had all the girls at school falling for you," she says happily, and I swallow. "Does he still live in Austin?"

I wrap my arms around her and drop my lips to her shoulder, knowing this one is going to hit her hard. She can barely stomach the deaths of strangers when we're at work, and she always, always cries. It's one thing to hear the names, but to see his face right in front of her…to be in his home, his mother a few feet away.

I'll be lucky if she doesn't spend the rest of the night in tears.

"I need to tell you something," I whisper and she turns in my arms, her hands settled on my chest. And when she sees my expression, her peaceful countenance falls.

"What's wrong?" she asks quietly, her head tilted worriedly, and when I take a deep breath, her eyes widen.

"I need you to try to stay calm," I say quietly and nod my head towards where my mother is rustling around in the kitchen doing God knows what.

Elena's eyes dart to the kitchen and then back at me. "No, Damon…" she pleads softly, her breathing picking up and hands shaking as they fist into my shirt.

"About nine years ago," I tell her as gently as I can, and her eyes are already sparkling with unshed tears. I pull her a little closer and she tucks her face into my neck, her whole body lightly trembling as she grips me tighter. "Devon died."

"What happened?" she whispers and I soothingly rub her back, laying my cheek to her hair.

"He had an asthma attack," I say and clear my throat. "And it got out of control before we could do anything to stop it."

"Oh God, Damon…" she whimpers and I massage my fingers into her hair, something moving in my peripheral vision.

I barely turn my head and see my mom standing at the entrance to the living room, an arm crossed over her chest and her other hand covering her mouth. I offer her a soft smile and mouth, "It's okay," and she nods, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Elena sniffles. "Do you…"

"No," I tell her quietly. "I've always been fine, no problems breathing or with anything else. Perfectly healthy."

She blows out a relieved breath and I pull back slightly to wipe her tears away, smiling at her comfortingly.

"Now," I drawl, "we need to go eat before Rascal jumps on the table and devours everything in sight."

She tries to smile through her tears, then blows out another shaky breath and I tilt my head.

"We can leave," I say softly. "Just say the word."

"No," she tells me and shakes her head. "I just…"

"I know," I nod. "But we're okay. I'm fine and Mom's fine and you being here is going to make her whole year. I think she loves you more than me," I tease and Elena huffs a small laugh. "Go wash up," I tell her quickly. "I'm starving."

"Are you always hungry?" she asks, and I nod emphatically. She rolls her eyes and stretches up to give me one light kiss before turning and heading down the hallway, softly shutting the bathroom door behind her.

I scrub a hand over my face. Now onto the next one.

I head into the kitchen to find my mom standing at the sink, her hands braced on the counter and her head hung low.

"Mom," I say tentatively and she straightens with a light sniffle.

"What is it, baby?"

I go to stand next to her, and she looks away to wipe at her eyes. "Haven't gotten my hug today," I lie, and she whips around to squeeze my middle, laying her head on my chest.

"She didn't know, did she?" Mom asks unsteadily and I shake my head.

"No, but she's fine." I hear Elena's footsteps enter the kitchen behind me and pause, and I wave her over.

Elena's bottom lip is quivering when she comes to stand next to us, and very carefully, she runs a hand down my mother's back as she works her other arm around my waist. My mom's head lifts and I see a single tear running down her cheek before she lets go of me with one arm, encircling Elena as they lay their heads on each other's shoulders, but also against me.

No one says anything as we stand there in the kitchen with both of them slightly shaking and intermittently sniffling, one of my hands combing through blond hair and the other through brown, all of us wrapped around each other and Rascal just watching, looking more concerned than a dog should be able to.

If he starts crying too…I don't know what I'm going to do.

I squeeze them both lightly. "So fucking hungry," I whine and they both pull away to glare at me.

"Good luck, Elena," my mom says and tucks Elena's hair behind her ear. "Boy's been eating me out of house and home since forever."

"Doesn't surprise me a bit," Elena smiles then loops her arm though my mom's, both of them walking towards the table.

I swallow and run a hand through my hair, going to join them and sitting across from Elena.

"This looks amazing," she smiles at me and I shake my head with a light laugh.

"Damon," my mom says all disappointed and I glance at her. "Elena can have some pot roast; I can make more and I thought you knew how to share."

I scoff and grab a roll, tearing off a chunk. And while I'm still looking at my mom, I throw the bite-sized piece of bread at Elena who immediately jumps and softly giggles. "There, I shared."

I smile mockingly and my mom rolls her eyes, Elena covering her face with her hands to hide her quiet laugh.

"Elena, would you like some pot roast?" my mom asks and Elena pulls her hands away to set them in her lap like the well-mannered little girl she is, blushing spectacularly.

"She doesn't eat meat, Mom."

"Damon!" Elena hisses all embarrassed, and I flare my eyes at her.

"What? You don't."

"Oh my goodness, Elena, I'm so sorry!"

"For fuck's sake," I mumble, but my mom doesn't even stop to scold me.

"I would've made something else if I would have known…"

"Anita, it's fine," Elena soothes at her and I roll my eyes while spearing a carrot. I hold it down to a waiting Rascal, who eats it immediately.

"Damon!" my mom reproaches while Elena laughs, and I glance up.

"What?"

"Don't give that dog my food!"

"It's my food," I tell her and set the fork down, getting the spare I grabbed purposefully for that reason and then take a bite.

And I can tell they're both just sitting there and staring at me for planning to share my dinner with my dog, and I ignore them.

No use wasting a damn fine pot roast.

"Leslie riding his bicycle in a thong and heels again?" I ask flatly, pulling into the parking spot in front of Elena's apartment.

"Hmm…" she responds automatically, not even bothering to look away from the window she's been staring out of for the last twenty minutes.

We haven't said a word since we left my mom's. The rest of dinner was fine, I guess, Elena smiling and laughing when appropriate, but there's something burning up the space in her mind and God knows the shit going through my mine isn't Leslie, the homeless whackjob who likes to ride around the city in nothing more than a drag getup, but I'd almost rather be thinking about that.

Probably because I'm fully into an anxiety attack from my mom pulling me aside right before we left, telling me, "I'm so happy for you, Damon. Elena is exactly the kind of girl I'd always hoped you'd marry."

Yeah, talk about going from zero to total fucking meltdown with a quick motherly whisper when Elena wasn't close enough to hear.

At least, I hope she wasn't.

But maybe she was.

Anyways, after my mother conveniently switched my settings from calm and content to Get The Fuck Outta Here, into the car we went: seatbelts buckled and my engine rumbling in the air that's hanging between us and I'm twitching like crazy and I keep tugging at my collar but it's already unbuttoned and Elena has no concept that anything exists other than a tempered pane of glass between her and the street signs that were whizzing by since my foot was stomped on the gas pedal.

It's just that word. Marriage.

I mean, I haven't even slept with Elena. She could be a complete burnout, missionary all the way and only with the lights off and while still wearing her protective cardigans, and I can't live like that. I need to fuck dirty and hard and long and in every way imaginable, and often.

And it's not just about the sex we're not having, because there's so much shit about me and her that will never work. She's completely uptight and I'm unapologetically blunt, she has baby-soft feelings and I have a total lack of knowing what the hell to do when presented with them other than to make a joke and change the subject. There's also the fact that I still want to go to bars and have fun because yeah, I'm young, and she spends her time acting like she's eighty years old and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with her in my car after having dinner with my Mom, telling her about my brother and introducing her to my goddamn dog.

That's my fucking dog. Mine.

I glance in the rearview mirror and the guy staring back at me cocks an eyebrow, because he and I both know I don't play whipped and committed and all the shit that this is starting to become.

I am not this guy.

No matter how much I may like her.

I'm parked but I leave the ignition running, and I clear my throat. She glances at me and seems to register where we are, and I arch an eyebrow.

"Sorry, just have a lot on my mind," she tells me softly and I nod slowly because yeah, no shit. "Do you want to come up? We can talk for a bit…"

Talk? No. I don't want to talk. I have absolutely no interest in answering a thousand questions about how my brother died and what that was like for me and how soon we're going to see my mother again or when exactly Elena would like me to cut off my balls so she can carry them in her purse next to her bottle of hand sanitizer. What I want is for Elena to get out of my car so I can go back to my "bachelor" apartment and get changed, then head straight to a bar where I can flirt my way between a new set of legs and have whoever ride me until the sun rises.

Which is exactly what I should be doing on a Saturday night.

"I'm gonna head home, Elena," I tell her and her brow furrows, and this is exactly why I don't do this shit.

I don't need disappointment.

I need no expectations, except for when it comes to my skills in getting them off.

"Okay," she nods, and I force a smile.

"See you later," I say quickly in a blatant cue for her to get the fuck away from me, because for some reason my dick hasn't caught up yet and it still wants to get under that dress, despite my brain screaming that the only thing under there is quicksand.

She tilts her head at me, and I lock my muscles down.

Don't go there, Elena. I swear to God, because I'll give it to you straight and you're not gonna like what I'm going to tell you.

"Goodnight," she says and my eyes widen, a little surprised at her acceptance of me basically kicking her out, and then she's shutting the passenger door and I'm pulling onto the street before she probably made it up the first three stairs and I don't care.

Because I'm free.

I finally get home and nearly run to my shower, washing off the scent of blackberry and vanilla that's still clinging to me. I brush my teeth and rinse my mouth, and it's spearmint everything. No peppermint anywhere nearby and thank Christ for that. Next is splashing on the cologne that's a surefire magnet for blond and tipsy and kinky as all hell, and I don't even look at my shaving cream because the poor piece of crap was reduced to an art product for drawing butterflies on my bathroom mirror. I grab the can and throw it away, then kick the laundry basket that's housing my black Metallica t-shirt along with the hoodie and pants that no one wore last night and most of this morning before no one took her shower, and I head to my closet.

I tug on my best jeans and ignore the empty place where my UT hoodie and pajama pants should be, but aren't because she wore them home.

They don't exist. They never existed.

My heart is pounding and my gaze is focused on the navy blue button down that slays thongs like it's the Excalibur, and I'm reaching for the hanger when I hear it.

I pinch my eyes closed and shake my head. That didn't just happen. It's not happening.

It happens again.

I slam my closet door closed and head to the front door without bothering to put on a shirt because it's going to turn her away that much faster if she's uncomfortable, and just because I'm a dick, I undo the button on my jeans and let the fact that I'm not wearing boxers be known. That should get her running back to the land of Matlock and orthopedic shoes faster than anything.

I open the door and Elena stomps past me, barging inside like she owns the place. Talk about entitled. Not to mention prissy and stuck up and clingy and a whole bunch of reasons why I need to get her out of here so I can go get laid by a chick who actually understands the meaning of the words "fuck me."

I shut the door and turn around, leaning against it with a thumb hooked into my pocket so it pulls my zipper down just a tiny bit more and exposes my naked hip, and she looks pissed.

"Come on in," I say sarcastically and she narrows her eyes at me, then holds up the folded piece of paper I left on her nightstand when I picked her up for our pussy-ass date.

"What the hell is this?" she snaps at me, and I lift my chin.

Here we go.

A/N: WHOOO! Someone's freaking out. (It was bound to happen lol) I've been having such a blast reading all your reviews, keep 'em coming! Especially the double hitters, when you come back with an OH! AND I FORGOT TO ASK ABOUT... Totally makes my day! Happy Thursday to you all, and I'll see you next chapter when things get a little...life changing ;) (I know, I'm so mean!)

-Goldnox