Chapter Seventeen: On Your Marx, Get Wet, Go

Elena Gilbert

"I need to pee."

Having showered and redonned yesterday's clothes, Elena emerged from the bathroom rolling her eyes at the sound of Damon's voice. "Oh, great, you're awake," she observed dryly. He was still tied to the bed, looking unreasonably relaxed after a night of captivity. She swapped a small bundle of cotton into her opposite hand, out of Damon's line of sight, as she strolled over to the dining table. "I've called Stefan and he'll be here soon. You can hold it until then." She opened her bag and quickly stuffed the small bundle inside.

"Are those your panties?"

Elena closed her bag with a speed that she hoped would erase what he saw. Did the guy have superhuman eyesight, as well as a superhuman ability to not shut up? "That's none of your business," she responded calmly, mentally clutching at the serenity the warm shower had provided her – and Damon was destroying every time he spoke.

"At least the crotch of your pants is getting better treatment than I am," he grumbled begrudgingly. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, like he was searching for the next topic to annoy her with. It wasn't necessary. He already had one. "How'd you enjoy sleeping on top of me?"

"It was a tedious means of escape," Elena sighed wearily, checking around to ensure all her belongings were packed in her bag. "I couldn't wait for it to be over."

"Really? Because I recall briefly waking up earlier this morning to a completely different experience." His tone was becoming increasingly boastful. His expression annoyingly so. "I'd stupidly fallen asleep and you were slowly shuffling up my body. Just as I was about to swing my legs over to trap you again, you wrapped your arms around me and nuzzled into my neck. Got all nice and cosy."

"I... did... not!" Elena seethed at the accusation. An accusation she vaguely – and horrifyingly – recalled having a lot of truth to it.

"Oh, you nuzzled goooood," he confirmed tauntingly.

Crossing her arms sulkily, she tried not to let the sudden recollection show. Holy hell, she had nuzzled him! She remembered how he'd felt incredibly warm, and his smell had been so raw and manly, and... urgh, she felt betrayed by her own semi-unconsciousness. She cleared her throat. "Well, obviously I wasn't fully awake. Maybe I was just trying to get comfortable. It's not easy sleeping on a rock hard..." Finding no way to turn that ending into the insult he deserved, her lips clamped shut.

After a few seconds of waiting patiently, Damon smirked, "You going to finish that sentence?"

"No."

"Don't be shy," he teased. "What was it? Chest? Stomach? Or a little further south?"

Elena narrowed her eyes, scowling at him. "You're an ass."

The front door opened and Stefan stepped into the room, closely followed by Caroline. "I assume you're talking about my brother," he remarked. Pulled out from work at Elena's news, he was dressed in tailored pants and a dark shirt. He swept his hands together... partly to rid them of the dirt he'd accumulated from checking out Elena's flat tire on the way over... and partly to charge himself up for the exasperating brotherly business ahead. Elena turned to him in relief, but his sight quickly rested on Damon, eyebrows lowered questioningly. "My brother... who is... tied to the bed...?"

"It's a long story, little bro." Damon's wide smile hid his nerves. He tugged on his wrist restraints. "You mind cutting me loose so I can fill you in?"

Stefan didn't return the smile. "Elena's already told me enough, Damon."

Caroline tilted her head curiously at Damon. "This is your seafood stalker?" Her tone was pleasantly surprised. She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "I mean, he's pretty cute." After Stefan shot her a judgmental look, she gushed defensively, "For Elena, not me. After all, she's the one who writes about falling for these toxic weirdos with no respect for boundaries."

"Thank you!" Damon yelled appreciatively from across the room. "That's exactly the point I was trying to make!" He yanked on his restraints, as though the unexpected validation would somehow free him. "Since I've proven my point and changed Elena's opinion of toxic men, can't you all consider it to be a good deed?"

"A good deed?" Stefan turned back to Damon, his voice slowly rising in volume. "You think stealing Elena's spare key from my apartment and breaking into hers was 'a good deed'?"

"Maybe it wasn't the best deed," he admitted sheepishly. When Stefan's expression remained serious, Damon looked down at his brother's tightened fists and added nervously, "Are you going to hit me?"

Noticing the direction of Damon's eyes, Stefan purposely relaxed his hands. "No, Damon, I'm not," he replied, strolling to the foot of the bed, "because you're stupid, not dangerous, and even though what you did was unforgivable, you exposed a bigger threat to Elena than you could ever be." He swung his head back towards Elena. "Which reminds me, Bonnie and Enzo are currently heading to your apartment now to dismantle the hidden cameras."

Letting out a breath, Damon asked hopefully, "So you're going to untie me?"

Stefan's sight locked back on his brother. "Not yet." He leaned over the bed, clamping his hands around each of Damon's ankles, keeping them secure. "What's that saying, Damon? 'No good deed goes unpunished'?" He called back over his shoulder, "Caroline?"

Beaming from ear to ear now that her part of the plan was in motion, Caroline pulled out a couple of black marker pens from her purse, handing one to Elena. "You remember these?"

Elena rotated the thick pen around in her hand, studying it. She recalled Caroline using one to scrawl the letters F and U on Klaus's hand after an afternoon of his relentless pestering. She'd meant to write more before he pulled away, but phonetically, "Eff You" had gotten the message across just fine. Elena's eyebrows raised. "Are these the permanent markers from work that don't wash off for, like, two or three days?"

Caroline's grin widened. "Yep," she confirmed with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Elena returned the smile before they wordlessly moved into position, each taking a place on opposite sides of the bed, looming over Damon, who now had both his arms and legs immobilized. He released a nervous chuckle, trying – and failing – to mask his unease. Imploring them to reveal their diabolical scheme, his head swiveled back and forth between the both of them, hoping for an answer.

Elena ignored his pleas. "Hmm, where should we start?" she mused, tapping the lid of the pen against her chin.

With the kind of promptness that suggested Caroline had already mentally planned each step of this punishment on the ride over, she began to unfasten Damon's shirt. "I think he needs a clear message written on a large canvas," she offered. "Something he can read whenever he looks in the mirror... which, from the look of him, he does a lot."

Damon's lips quirked, flattered. "Thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment!" the two women screeched in unison.

Watching Caroline's fingers pluck open each of the buttons, Damon quavered, "You know, I'm starting to get severely anxious whenever a woman takes off my shirt."

Stretching out his neck, inspecting the marks on Damon's chest, Stefan turned towards Elena. "Are those bruises?" His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Did you do that to my brother?"

Elena's face scrunched in an awkward facial shrug. "Yeah..."

Stefan then nodded in approval. "Nice."

Caroline bit the marker cap off with her teeth and let it fall from her mouth. Leaning over Damon's chest, she began to write, narrating each word. "I... am... a... huge... dick." She then straightened her back, observing her work proudly.

Elena smiled and joined in, pulling off the lid and adding a line beneath Caroline's. "With... a... tiny... dick."

Damon wasn't as amused as they were about the ordeal, but he seemed to find Elena's choice of words interesting. Sweeping his eyes in a dramatic arch towards Elena, he tutted, "Oh, come on, Elena... we both know that's not true."

Stefan's eyes widened. He blinked slowly. "What exactly does he mean by that?"

Glaring down at Damon's grinning expression, Elena replied tightly, "Nothing." She mentioned nothing of her late-night introduction to Mr Happy – an introduction that Damon was now smugly aware was still on the forefront of her mind. Grabbing him roughly by the chin, she aimed the marker at his head.

"Not the face! Not the face!" he yelped, attempting to shake himself free. His struggles only motivated Caroline into holding him still, clutching either side of his skull as Elena pressed the inky tip against his forehead.

"You want to act like a devil?" Elena retaliated. "Then you can damn well look like one." She finished one curved triangle, and then the other, placing the cap back on the pen as she straightened to admire her artwork.

Damon finally shook free of Caroline's loosened grip. "You drew horns on my head?" he groused.

Elena beamed in satisfaction. "Yep."

He looked disappointed as well as irritated. "Well, that's not going to go down well at the classy restaurant I had in mind for our next date."

"A date? Seriously?" Caroline burst, blinking in shock at Damon's words. "Is this guy delusional?"

Stefan sighed apologetically, dropping his head. "All his life."

"I'm thinking we should add a thick mustache," Elena pondered, "to cover up that annoying smirk of his."

"Listen, you've had your fun, enough is enough," Damon protested. He looked between his two tormentors, but their eyes were lost in their imaginations.

"Maybe some spectacles too," Caroline suggested, "since he clearly can't see that you're not interested in him."

Realizing the two women were going to continue to ignore him, Damon's head swung forward, his eyes landing on his brother. "Stefan, you need to end this." It should have been a plea, considering the position he was in, but it sounded more like a very desperate demand. He fumed through his teeth, enunciating each word. "I was an idiot, okay? I admit that. And I'm going to make it up to Elena by making sure her real stalker doesn't hurt her, but I'm not going to look very intimidating to anyone if I'm doodled up to look like Groucho frigging Marx!"

Stefan paused briefly to consider Damon's point. Then he reluctantly released his ankles.

"We're not finished," Caroline protested.

Stefan sighed, running a hand through his light brown hair. "Yeah, you are," he decided. He walked around towards the head of the bed to untie his brother. "Like it or not, if Damon's committed to finding out more about this Elijah guy and getting him off of Elena's back, then we need all the help we can get." He dug his fingers into the knots, jerking at the bandages to gradually loosen them. "Look, my brother's an idiot..." – tug – "...highly reckless..." – tug – "...possibly insane..." – tug – "...definitely a huge jackass..." – tug – "...but he's not a threat to Elena."

Damon looked warmly up at his brother. "You say the nicest things."

"That's not a compliment, Damon," Stefan grunted, finally releasing the bandages and unwrapping them from around his brother's wrists, "you don't get a gold star for not being a total liability."

The moment Damon was free, he jumped out of bed, shook his limbs to loosen them up, nudged past Stefan and Caroline, and rushed quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. It wasn't the reaction either of them was expecting. Continuing his complaints or rants should have been more his style.

"He's been needing to pee for a while," Elena sighed in explanation.

"Ok-ay, well, here's what's going to happen next," Stefan segued, "I've got a replacement tire for your car... I'm going to change it... you're going to go home and find your old SIM card... and Caroline and I will do some more digging on Elijah." He pointed a finger firmly at Elena. "Don't give Damon a lift home, the asshole can walk back."

Damon, eavesdropping, called out from behind the bathroom door. "What was that?!"

Stefan stormed over to the bathroom, standing outside. "I said you can walk back!" he snapped.

"Whatever," came Damon's muffled grunt. "Damn it, this ink isn't coming off!"

Stefan closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing the walk back was longer. Preferably a day or two.

"Just leave my phone – I'll order a cab!" Damon yelled.

"Oh, you'll order a cab?" Stefan echoed, amusement lacing his voice. Well, that wasn't happening. He glanced over at Elena, whispering. "Where's his phone?"

Elena went to the dining table, where Damon's phone sat beside her keys. She picked it up and walked over to Stefan, placing it in his waiting hand.

"Okay, Damon," Stefan shouted through the door, "you can order a cab... as soon as you've fished your phone out from the lake." Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and marched purposefully out of the lodge.

The bathroom door swung open forcefully. Damon stepped out of the bathroom, his piercing blue eyes meeting with Elena's, scanning her face for any sign that his brother was bluffing. "He's not serious?"

"Oh, I think he is," she replied, biting her lip to suppress a smirk.

With a growl of frustration, Damon stormed past them. Behind him, they ran to the doorway, watching in entertainment as he charged down the fishing pier, where his brother now stood at the end, framed by the glittering lake. His footsteps thudded against the worn wooden planks. "Stefan, you are not putting my phone in the lake!"

Stefan turned at the sound of his approach, his expression calm as he held out his hand, offering back his phone. "You're right, Damon, I'm not putting it in the lake," he agreed smoothly, his green eyes awash with trickery as Damon took back the device. "I'm putting you in the lake." Then, extending his arms, he shoved his brother forcefully in the chest.

Damon tumbled off the pier and into the water with a loud splash, sending ripples across the surface. Though it was barely five feet deep, his feet slipped against the slick rocks below, and he fell backward with a second splash, disappearing entirely beneath the cloudy water.

Glancing over the pier's edge, Stefan waited for his brother to resurface, sputtering and cursing, his dark wet hair plastered to his forehead. "Good luck convincing any cab to accept you in that state."

From the doorway, laughter rang out from where Elena and Caroline stood, watching Damon's glare follow his younger brother as he turned to walk away.

Smirking, Stefan casually shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled back toward the fishing lodge. "Ready to go?"