AN: Thanks to my beta, you're getting to read this a whole five days earlier than originally planned.

So the sequel is here! Thanks to everybody who encouraged me to continue the story I started in Self-Inflicted Wounds. I'm really excited about this one. I wouldn't say that SIW is required reading to follow this sequel, but I think you'll enjoy it more if you do because I'm building on the world I created.

I'm going to tell you upfront that Down A Crooked Path won't be the sprawling ensemble piece that SIW became. All of the players will be back in significant ways, but DACP is Delena focused. And it's actually going to stay that way. LOL

My post script on SIW's epilogue scared some readers enough for one of them to request that I let Damon and Elena be happy for a few chapters before everything goes to shit. Welp, here you go. This is probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. ;p

I seriously can't wait to hear what you think, so please leave a reply. It'll make my day!

It wasn't until she was hurtling through the air, falling towards the rocks below, that he knew he was going to be too late.

Chapter One – Kiss the Past Goodbye

Elena Gilbert watched the mile markers count down the remaining distance to Mystic Falls as they flew by along the side of the highway. Knowing the long road trip was almost over and buzzing with anticipation, she couldn't wrap her brain around the notion that she'd be home in less than an hour.

A home she hadn't been back to in almost two years.

She'd left Mystic Falls for Atlanta the fall after her senior year and, for one reason or another, had never made it back. Whether it was flying or driving, the trip had always seemed too cumbersome for an average weekend, especially considering how quickly she'd filled her life with classes and work. Freshman year, Ric and Jeremy had visited her for Christmas and she'd spent spring break with Caroline and Bonnie in Cozumel. The summer between freshman and sophomore year, she'd taken an internship with an independent publishing house that had dominated her time, making vacations impossible. Sophomore year had been much like the year before, except it had been her turn to visit Jeremy at college for the holidays and spring break had been spent in Costa Rica. Immediately after finals, she'd picked up her internship where she'd left off.

It hadn't been until the middle of July, when she'd come to the bittersweet realization that two years had passed. Her parents were gone and her friends scattered – there was no longer anything tying her to her hometown. Caroline's invitation to a Labor Day reunion party at the Lockwood estate had come at the perfect time and Elena had immediately accepted.

Convincing Damon to join her, however, had been a lot harder than she'd expected.

A bright green sign appeared on the edge of the horizon, growing larger until it breezed by the passenger window. Elena drew a deep breath, stretching her arm across the back of the seat to run her fingers through Damon's hair. Studying his profile, she smiled. "Only sixteen more miles."

"I'm giddy with anticipation," he deadpanned, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead. The first time she'd mentioned the reunion, she'd been prepared for an initial refusal, but Damon had surprised her with how staunchly he'd opposed the idea. Mystic Falls hadn't been his home for over one hundred and fifty years, he'd argued, and it would take more than two years for him to start feeling homesick.

Eventually, she'd changed his mind, but they'd had more than one impressive fight over the subject. In the end, she'd had to pull out the big guns, simply asking him to go as a favor to her.

"Ric is going to be happy to see you," she said, grateful to see the smirk that curved his lips.

"Uh huh," he said, raising a brow as he kept his eyes on the road.

"And I know Jeremy's missed you," she added as he reached up and took her hand.

"We're fifteen miles away, Elena," he pointed out, offering her a glance as he laced his fingers with hers. "You can quit sucking up."

Elena grinned as she slid across the bench seat of the Camaro to lean her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're with me," she said, craning her neck to catch his gaze. Those intense blue eyes were still able to make her breathless, even after three years. "Thank you."

Damon looked at her for a long moment, a wry grin playing on his lips. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the road and brought her hand to his lips to brush a kiss against the soft skin. Keeping their hands linked, he said. "You knew I'd give in."

"I did not," she protested. "With all the whining you did, I thought I was going to have to go by myself."

Damon scoffed. "Like I'd let you go back to Mystic Falls alone."

"Let me?" she repeated, bristling slightly as she lifted her head to glare at him. "You wouldn't let me go on my own? What were you going to do, lock me in our bedroom?"

He shrugged, the grin turning rakish as he wiggled his brows lasciviously. "I was thinking I'd tie you to the bed, but that works, too."

"You're such an ass," she accused, settling against him so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing her blush. Beneath the sarcasm, she knew he was serious and she could only fault him up to a point. In the two years that they'd lived together, he'd been there every time she'd woken up screaming from nightmares filled with the horrors that she'd endured in her hometown. She shivered slightly, hoping Damon would attribute it to the open car window rather than any sign of apprehension on her part. No matter what had happened, Mystic Falls was still her home. Shoving the dark thoughts aside, she said. "Caroline says it's stayed quiet these past two years. I don't think one weekend is going to kill me."

"You barely got out of that town alive," he reminded her, squeezing her hand as the top of the Mystic Falls water tower became a tiny speck on the horizon. "I don't know why you're so excited to go back."

Elena turned abruptly into the driveway, the tires of the SUV screeching on the asphalt as she came to a halt. Leaping out of the vehicle, she raced toward the Salvatore house and threw open the front door causing it to crash into the woodwork as it bounced off of the opposite wall. Her brown eyes crackled with anger as she slammed it shut and strode into the living room, yelling for her boyfriend.

"Damon!"

He wasn't in there, but his car was outside, so she knew he was home. On any other day she would have made a cursory effort to try to find him somewhere within the vast house before taking advantage of his super-sensitive hearing and calling for him to come to her. Today, however, she was too pissed off to bother.

"Damon!" Elena cried again after all of five seconds had passed. Tossing her keys onto the coffee table, she yanked the single sheet of thick paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. "I know you're here," she added, staring at the black and white words that had pushed her over the edge.

Dear Ms. Gilbert, we are pleased to inform you that your application to Emory University has been accepted…

She scowled at the rest, curling her fingers into a fist around the official acceptance letter. Shaking her head, she blinked away angry tears as indignation propelled her from one side of the room to the other. The letter had been waiting for her after school, innocently mixed in with bills and junk mail. Emory was her first choice college and the acceptance letter had been more than a dream come true –it had been a miracle of epic proportions.

How could he do this? she wondered, struggling to keep a grip on her emotions. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Crying was weak and she needed to be angry – she needed to yell and scream and make sure her boyfriend of nearly a year knew – in no uncertain terms – that when she asked him not to do something, she meant it. "Damon, I swear to god, if you don't get your ass down here, I'll-."

She stopped and opened her eyes as some sixth sense alerted her to his presence. Turning slowly, she found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as a bemused expression played over his features. Forgetting her anger for a split second, she marveled over the fact that this ridiculously perfect specimen of the male species was actually hers. How does he manage to make black look so damn good?

No. No! He was not going to be able to weasel his way out of this one with charm and smooth words.

Damon used her silence as an invitation, taking a few steps toward her and raising a brow. "Go on," he said, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. "I'd love to know what you-."

"You bastard," she hissed, bristling at his arrogance. Striding up to him, she poked a shaking finger at his chest and demanded. "How could you?"

The humor drained from his expression as he momentarily lowered his gaze to his chest before sliding back up to her face. "How could I what?"

"I asked you not to," she said, ignoring his question in her haste to get out all of the angry words she'd been rehearsing on the way over. "I asked you and you swore you wouldn't, Damon. You swore."

"Swore I wouldn't what?" he asked, a hint of frustration bleeding into his tone as he reached for her in concern. "Elena, what the hell are you talking about?"

Jerking out of his grasp, she slapped the folded, crumpled sheet of paper against his chest. "Read that," she ordered, bracing her hands on her hips. "Even though you already know what it says."

He opened the letter, shooting her more than one wary, apprehensive look before scanning the short, but direct contents. She watched him closely, wondering how he'd play it when he realized the game was over. Would he feign innocence? Immediately confess? Would he be mad that she didn't fall all over herself to thank him for his help? She clenched her jaw so tight her teeth ground together.

"You got in," he said a moment later, breaking a piece of her heart as he looked at her with obvious pride and some bewilderment. So, he's going for innocence, she thought as her shoulders sagged. Great. Damon moved toward her. "Congratulations, Elena, that's amazing."

She backed away, blinking furiously against the mutinous tears brought on by his sincerity, ignoring his well-wishing because it wasn't deserved. She'd worked hard her senior year to make up for the abysmal grades she'd turned in as a junior, but she'd barely managed to pull her GPA out of the gutter, let alone to a level that would allow her to compete with the type of student applying to Emory. She never would have sent in the application if Damon hadn't snuck an illicit peak at her essay and threatened to put it in the mail himself if she didn't have the balls to go through with it. Swayed more by his belief in her, than by the threat, she'd sent it in the next day.

How could he be so sincere when compulsion was behind that letter? The compulsion that he'd promised he wouldn't use.

"That's right," she said, fighting the disappointment and hurt that was threatening the strength of her anger. She wondered when he'd decided to sneak down to Emory and compel the admissions staff. Dully, she echoed his words. "I got in."

"Okay, I don't get it," Damon said, shaking his head as he held the letter aloft. He approached her cautiously, like a hunter nearing wounded prey, and stopped a few feet away from her. "You've been going on and on about this school for months, what's with the tears? I thought you'd be happy."

"I would have been happy," she replied, blinking him back into focus as her traitorous emotions spiraled further out of her control. "I would have been overjoyed if I believed for one second that I deserved it."

"You do deserve it, Elena," he insisted. "After all the shit you've been through, you deserve it more than anyone."

"Is that why you did it?" she asked, balking at the implied charity. "Because I deserved some reward for surviving the vampires and the werewolves and the Originals? Is that why you refused to do what I asked and let me get into college on my own. Without your help."

"My help? I didn't help. I didn't do anything, you wouldn't even let me read your…" he trailed off, something in her expression forcing the pieces into place as his entire demeanor changed. Immediately, he straightened his spine and lifted his chin. "Oh. I see. You think I…what? Compelled someone on the admission's staff to overlook the fact that you failed half your classes your junior year?"

"I know you did," she insisted, trying not to react to the way he'd so cruelly spelled out her shortcomings. She hadn't expected to emerge from this fight unscathed.

"Oh, you know, huh?" he sneered, refolding the acceptance letter and smoothing out the rumpled edges. "How?"

"Because Emory was a fantasy," she explained, bizarrely grateful to him for lashing out. It made it easier for her to respond in kind. "With my grades, the only way I could have gotten in is if I had help."

"So, naturally, you assumed that I did something," he scoffed, shaking his head as he held the letter toward her and let it fall to the floor when she wasn't fast enough to take it. Turning away from her, he made his way towards the bar. "Even though you explicitly asked me not to."

"What else am I supposed to think?" she cried, snatching the letter from the floor and gesturing with it like a weapon. "You said it yourself. I failed."

"Okay, fine," he said as he poured himself a drink. "Let's say I compelled someone to get you into Emory – even though I promised I wouldn't. When did I do it?"

"What?"

"When did this happen, Elena?" he asked, enunciating each word as he kept her trapped in his indignant gaze.

She blinked as a tendril of doubt crept into her mind. Shoving it aside, she lifted a shoulder. "I sent the application in three months ago, you had plenty of time-."

"To take a road trip to Georgia? Really?" he replied, raising a mocking brow. "In the past three months, when have we been apart long enough for me to go down to Atlanta, find the right admissions officer, compel them to get you in and make it back without you noticing? That's at least a three day trip."

The tendril became a twinge as she tried to recall a time when they'd been apart for more than a day and realized she couldn't. "You-you're fast," she said, wincing at how ridiculous that sounded.

Damon stared at her for a long, measured moment. "That's your answer? I'm fast?" he repeated derisively before shaking his head. "You can believe what you want, Elena, but this was all you. I didn't compel anyone."

"Then…you must have…bribed someone," she suggested weakly as the twinge became an insistent tug on her conscious.

He snorted, holding her gaze as he took a sip of his bourbon. "I thought we were past this."

"Past what?"

He set his mouth in a grim line of disappointment, leveling the words at her as he left the room. "Past you assuming the worst of me."

"Damon, that's not…" she protested, but there was no point. He was gone, the sound of his unnaturally soft footsteps fading quickly. After a moment of helpless indecision, she sank to the couch cushions, gingerly placing the acceptance letter on the coffee table as if it might explode and do further damage. In the silence, the tug shoved its way to the forefront of her mind to war with her convictions. A sour feeling rose up from her stomach to burn the back of her throat.

Am I wrong?

Her assumptions hadn't been unfounded. Damon did what he thought was best, regardless of anyone else. That was his style, his M.O. He'd warned her of that at different times and in different ways throughout the course of their relationship – even before they officially got together.

"I didn't compel anyone."

Denial, however, wasn't his style, and his echoed in her head, fueling her confusion and doubt. He always owned his actions, consequences be damned. Swallowing, she dropped her gaze to the folded letter as if it might hold the answer.

"When in the past three months have we been apart long enough…"

"We haven't," she whispered, bracing her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her hands. She still couldn't accept that she'd gotten into Emory on her own, but it wasn't physically possible for Damon to have done what she'd accused him of. His denial rang truer than her conviction and she groaned as she realized she believed him. There were some lines that he wouldn't cross, and going against her wishes after looking her in the eye and promising her he wouldn't was one of them. Deep down, past all of her self-doubt, she'd known all along. Shit. "I got in."

Dear Ms. Gilbert, we are pleased to inform you that your application to Emory University has been accepted…

The black type on ivory paper accused her even as it congratulated her. Elena tried to muster up some joy and excitement, but all she felt was overwhelmingly stupid. God, I'm such an idiot.

Rising hastily from the couch, she ran from the room. "Damon!" she called, checking each room as she worked her way through the first floor. One after another, the empty rooms added to her growing disgust with herself. Was he even still here? She hadn't heard footsteps on the stairs or a car starting in the driveway, but he could move so quietly and she wouldn't have blamed him for leaving her to stew with her own knee-jerk reactions.

She opened the door to the library and found him sitting at the huge antique desk, poring over some papers. He didn't so much as lift his gaze as she entered, leaving Elena to watch him for a moment from the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat as she resisted the urge to run to him and immediately launch into a plea for forgiveness. He wouldn't appreciate the hysterics and she wanted to maintain what little dignity she had left.

It wasn't much.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. "Damon, I'm sorry." He glanced at her, but didn't respond, prompting an immediate need to fill the silence. Making her way slowly toward the desk, she attempted to explain herself. "I don't know why I thought you'd break your promise. I just…I really didn't think I could get into Emory on my own. I still can't believe it, but…I dobelieve you and we are past it. I am so sor-."

"Elena," he interrupted, looking up as she snapped her mouth shut. His expression was unreadable as he stared at her for a long moment. The instinct to launch into another lengthy ramble was so strong, she had to bite her lip to fight it. Finally, he shrugged. "Apology accepted."

She blinked. Apology accepted? That's not how their fights worked. There was yelling and broken barware and slammed doors as one of them stormed away to cool off. "Thank…you?" she replied slowly as he returned his attention to the sheaf of papers. She'd expected relief upon receiving his forgiveness, but it hovered just out of reach. Tentatively, she skirted around the edge of the desk to his side and leaned against it, facing him. She knew it would be better to give him space, but she simply couldn't tear herself away. Curling her fingers around the lip of the desk, she asked. "What are you, um…looking at?"

Setting the papers on the blotter beside her hip, he leaned back in the huge leather chair and looked at her. "See for yourself."

Warily, she reached for the first page of the pile, her gaze darting between the desk and his stoic features. She scanned the first page, making it halfway through the technical jargon before she realized what she was reading. "Damon, this is..." She grabbed the rest of the stack, flipping through each one until she was convinced that they were all similar. She stared at him with wide, wondering eyes. "These are scholarship applications."

"Yes, they are," he agreed with a brief nod.

Hopelessly confused, she asked. "Why are you looking at scholarship applications?"

"Did you win the lottery and not tell me?" he asked before apparently taking pity on her for her complete bewilderment. "You have to pay for college somehow and I figured - and based on that fight we just had I know I'm right - that you're not going to let me help. So, I did some research. You should have no problems getting most of these and you're a perfect candidate for financial aid."

Elena's cheeks burned as tears filled her eyes and this time, she didn't stop them from spilling down her cheeks. "Damon…," she began, searching for words that never came. She'd just accused him of breaking a promise to her - something he'd never done before - and rather than making her work for his forgiveness, he was acting like nothing had happened. Swallowing hard, she returned the applications to the desk and blinked at the tears clouding her vision. "I don't-I don't know what to say. I'm so sor-."

"Stop. No more apologies," he cautioned, rising from the chair and cradling her face between his palms. Wiping away the tracks of her tears, he said. "Not that I don't love it when you admit that you're wrong, but…you had a point."

"I did?"

"Compelling an admissions officer? Totally something I'd do," he admitted with a smirk before raising a brow and adding. "If I hadn't promised you I wouldn't. I know how to pick my battles. I'm not going to break my word over something I knew you could do without me."

Elena flushed again as she tried to bow her head and hide behind a curtain of hair, but Damon wasn't interested. Capturing her mouth, he kissed her slowly - the proper hello that she'd denied them both by her accusations. She melted into him, kissing him back with more passion than usual as her body strove to drive home her gratitude and how deeply she loved him. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck when they came apart.

I don't deserve you, she thought as she brushed her lips over his skin. Sometimes, I really, really don't deserve you.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked, far too content in his arms to move.

"Well, you got into Emory," he said, his lips brushing her ear. Hearing him say it made the reality of the acceptance letter sink in. She lifted her head, a wide grin curving her lips. His eyes flashed mischievously as he brushed her hair out of her face and asked. "How do you want to celebrate?"

Later that night, Elena wrapped an arm around Damon's neck and slipped between his body and the front door. Buzzed from too many tequila shots, she stood on her toes and pressed a heated kiss to his lips. His arm came easily around her waist as he kissed her back, pressing her against the wooden door while he fumbled for his keys.

"Elena," he cautioned between kisses that tasted like the whiskey he'd been drinking. "I'm never going to get the door open if you keep distracting me."

"You mean there's something the big, bad vampire can't do?" she teased, arching her body against him from hip to chest. "I am shocked."

Even in the dark, she could see his eyes widen at the challenge. A split-second later, the sound of splintering wood and wrenching metal filled the night and the door swung open behind her. If he hadn't had such a tight grip on her, she would have fallen right across the threshold.

"Did you just break the door?" she demanded with a laugh.

"It's my door," he shot back, closing it with his free hand and twisting the knob so that it stayed closed. Capturing her mouth for another long, scorching kiss, she was slightly dizzy when he added. "Besides, it's your fault. You dared me."

Elena gasped and playfully slapped his shoulder. "I would never do something like that."

"Right," he said dryly before she claimed his lips again. They made their way across the darkened foyer toward the stairs in an unhurried journey to his bedroom. To his bed, she grinned into their kiss, her hands gripping the edges of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor without pausing in their progress.

Earlier in the evening, Elena had sent out a mass text to her friends to meet her at the Grille for an impromptu celebration and miraculously, they'd all been able to attend. Ric had pretended not to notice when Damon compelled the bartender to give her, Bonnie, Jeremy, Tyler and Caroline whatever they asked for and they'd all toasted Elena's acceptance to Emory until the bar had closed. Even though it had been nearly a year since they'd defeated Klaus, an evening of normalcy was nearly as intoxicating as the alcohol they'd consumed.

It had been a perfect night and there was still more to come.

Slipping her hands between their bodies, Elena worked on the buttons of Damon's shirt. She'd exposed half of his perfectly chiseled chest before he decided her own leather jacket had to go. Feeling the combined heat of sexual tension, alcohol and too many layers of clothing, she helped him remove it. The jacket hit the bottom stair with a soft plop and before she could resume undressing him, he had the hem of her shirt in his hands and was tugging it over her head.

The cold, unyielding wood of the newel post dug into her back as they stumbled into it at the base of the stairs. Content for the moment to explore each other there, she let her head fall back as he blazed a trail of kisses down the column of her throat. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he dragged his teeth over her throbbing pulse. His hands seemed to be everywhere, molding her body to his, but failing to get her close enough. She needed more.

Making quick work of the remaining buttons, Elena stripped his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Tossing it aside, she used the first step for leverage and launched herself into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist brought the intimacy she craved as the hard length of his arousal pressed against her throbbing center.

Damon muttered a curse before chuckling. "How do you expect me to get you upstairs when you pull shit like that?"

"You're a man of many talents," she replied, nipping at his bottom lip. He responded by kissing her again, his hands sliding down her bare back to cup her bottom.

She really needed to get rid of her pants.

Despite protests to the contrary, Damon didn't seem to be in a hurry to get her up the long flight of stairs. He took his time tasting her, slowing things down so that the heat between them smoldered rather than blazed. Elena couldn't get enough. Being with him was always an adventure, always intense, but she loved it best when they came together like this - relaxed and unhurried.

"I'm going to miss this," he murmured, the rough caress of his voice dragging her out of her sexual reverie. "I'm going to miss you."

Instantly, her eyes flew open as the fire within her diminished by half. Touching his cheek, she frowned. "What do you mean miss me?"

"When you're off having the 'full college experience,'" he replied, using the phrase she'd uttered a thousand times in the past six months. Knowing how lucky she was to have a real shot at being a normal co-ed, she'd gone after the dream with gusto.

Somehow, it had never connected that Damon might not be there.

"I wouldn't want to cramp your style," he continued, lazily kissing her jaw and forcing her further out of her blissfully buzzed state as she tried to focus. Frowning, she threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on even as her stomach twisted at the idea of leaving him behind. Damon was more than just her boyfriend, he was a part of her. Their connection was so deep it scared her at times. She'd always thought, always assumed that wherever she went, he'd be there.

The idea that she might have been wrong made her nauseous.

Oblivious to her distress, he continued talking. "Who brings their high school boyfriend to college? I know you wouldn't want me there, tagging along after you and keeping you from discovering yourself…preventing you from breaking free from the trappings of your home town."

Elena's frown deepened as his words sunk in. Breaking free from the trappings of your home town? Discovering yourself? Who the hell even talked like that? He sounded like some lame self-help book the school guidance counselor would peddle.

Realization dawned as she erupted into a fit of giggles. "You are so full of shit."

"Excuse me?" he asked, lifting his head from the crook of her neck and meeting her gaze with eyes far too wide and innocent to be believed.

"You had me for a second, but I know you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him as she traced his lips with the tip of her finger. "You can barely handle it when I drive myself to school without a chaperone. You really expect me to believe you'd let me move to Atlanta on my own? I'll bet you have a place picked out already," she added, immediately sure of the idea. Lifting a brow, she challenged him. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He held her gaze for a long moment, maintaining a look of wounded innocence so convincing that she almost doubted her convictions. She knew him well, but he was constantly surprising her. Maybe she'd overestimated her own intuitiveness on this one. Before she could find the words to backtrack, his lips curved into his familiar smug grin as his eyes sparked in the low light. "You're wrong," he said, obviously enjoying her shocked expression. After a moment, he shrugged and added. "I picked out three. I thought I'd let you decide which one you'd like best."

Elena let out a squeal of triumph before he could finish his sentence, kissing him in victory. "I knew it," she declared, tightening her legs around his waist as he began carrying her up the stairs. "I knew you'd find a place for us."

"It doesn't have to be for us," he said, explaining before she could interpret that as a sign he didn't want to come. "You're right, there's no fucking way I'm letting you that far out of my sight just so you can experience the wonders of frat parties and sleeping through your classes like a normal human being. However, there's no reason why you can't do the dorm thing and stay at my place when you feel like it."

Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned towards his room as the shadows grew deeper and hid his face from her. Months ago, she might have seen the wisdom in his idea of two separate living spaces. She was only eighteen, after all, and as much as she loved him and planned on being with him forever, there was something very permanent about living under the same roof. She'd have no escape, no place to run and catch her breath when they fought or things just got so intense she'd need space to remember where he ended and she began.

Was she really ready to live with Damon Salvatore?

Carrying her over the threshold into his bedroom, he nudged the door shut with his foot out of habit even though nobody else lived in the house anymore. In silence, he brought her to the bed, laying her on her back against the comforter and immediately joining her because she had no intention of letting him go. In a bid for more time to think, she kissed him, sighing into his mouth at the slow, languid pace.

"You know," she murmured as his touch burned a trail down the side of her body and across her stomach. She felt his nimble fingers at the button of her jeans and helped him ease them over her hips. "I've always liked the idea of having a roommate."

"Yeah?" he replied noncommittally, fully intent on the task of getting her naked.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, kicking her jeans off of the edge of the bed before placing a hand on his cheek and making him look at her. "But communal bathrooms? Total deal breaker. I don't want to fight thirty other girls for the shower every morning."

He watched her carefully, a knowing gleam in his eye. "That does sound rough."

"I think I could handle sharing with one person," she acknowledged, pretending to think about it while her grin grew wider. "Someone who wouldn't hog all the hot water."

"How about somebody who'd share?" he suggested, reaching behind her to deftly unhook her bra.

Elena pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat as she helped him get the scrap of fabric out of their way. "I like the way you think, Salvatore."

As they passed the sign on the edge of town welcoming them to Mystic Falls, Elena sat up and looked eagerly out the window. The town hadn't changed much during the eighteen years she'd lived there, but she studied the scenery with rapt attention nonetheless, searching for signs of the passage of time. Relief and disappointment coursed through her as Damon drove through the town square.

"Everything looks the same," she murmured, not knowing what she'd expected.

"It's only been two years," he reminded her, turning off of Main Street and onto the residential street that would take them to her childhood home. At Elena and Jeremy's insistence, Ric continued to live there and they'd decided to stay there rather than opening up the Salvatore house. "If you want to see change, try staying away for a few decades."

"When was the last time you came through town?" Elena asked as she settled back into the passenger seat and clasped her hands to keep from fidgeting. "Before the last time, I mean."

"The 50s," he replied.

"You were gone for sixty years?"

Damon smirked as he pulled into the driveway in front of the house Elena had grown up in. "I told you, Mystic Falls is not my favorite place. It takes me a long time to get nostalgic for the good old days."

He said it casually enough, but there was a slight edge coloring his words and she decided to let the subject drop in the hopes of avoiding a fight. It didn't matter if he was as excited as she was to be back, what mattered was that he was there and - at least for the moment - no longer complaining.

A Jeep was parked in the driveway next to Ric's familiar vehicle, leaving her to assume that Jeremy had beaten them there. She grinned, buzzing with eager excitement over the prospect of seeing her family in a matter of minutes. The second Damon parked the Camaro and switched off the engine, she leapt out of the passenger seat. Racing to the trunk, she bounced on her toes impatiently as she waited for him.

"Hurry up, Damon," she chided, too excited to care that she sounded like a little kid on Christmas morning. The lid of the trunk popped open and a second later he was there, staying her hands before they could reach inside and grab her suitcase.

"I got it," he assured her. "Go inside before you explode or something."

"You're the best," Elena beamed, taking his face in her hands and peppering his mouth and cheeks with kisses. "I love you."

"You better," he grumbled, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. She turned at the sound of the front door opening and Ric appeared on the porch. She returned his wave and was just about to rush inside when Damon closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"What-oh!" she exclaimed as he claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss that had her blushing by the time he pulled away. Blinking, she brought a hand to her lips and struggled for words. "Wh-what was that for?"

"Because I love you, too," he replied, smoothing the hair off of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His smile became a smirk as he glanced over her shoulder toward the house and waved at his friend. "And because I haven't seen Ric squirm like that since Christmas."

"Aw, see?" she grinned as her cheeks grew even redder. Laughing, she gave his hand a squeeze as she backed away. "I knew you'd have fun on this trip."