Elena's sitting one leg draped over the other in the board room, staring at the group of people sitting opposite of her. Bored, she sighs and leans back in her chair.

"You blew through your allowance rather quickly," uncle John eyes peer over the report to meet hers.

"Yes, because my expenses add up quickly."

"Would you care to reveal those expenses?" Carol Lockwood asks, tapping her index finger on the table top.

"Apart from the usual, I hosted a benefit for the hungry."

"Surely you can do better than that? The press had a field day, calling your "benefit", she air quotes the word, "a wild party where you and your friends trashed the place resulting in damages totaling over thirty-five thousand dollars."

"Well, I guess it got a little out of hand," Elena rationalizes, her eyes on her perfect manicure.

"At a five-star restaurant? And I suspect that your friends were the hungry who benefitted. Elena, we've been appointed to make sure your money lasts. Which it won't, if we allow you to keep wasting it. Food and clothes - those are necessities. Five hundred dollars on a Burberry scarf? Thirty-five hundred dollars on a hand bag?"

"It was Burberry! I think my parents would want me to be happy, don't you uncle John?"

"Yes, of course."

"How do you expect me to be happy if I'm broke?" she looks at her uncle with puppy dog eyes.

"Happiness shouldn't be dependent on how much you spend."

"Look, the party..."

"I thought you said it was a benefit?" he arches an eyebrow.

"Whatever, it was a mistake. But it's in the past. It was two whole weeks ago. Look, I promise from now on I will do better."

"Oh I know you will..." John adds firmly, staring at Elena till she picks up her Louis Vuitton bag and quickly exits the room, the click of her Louboutin heels soft against the expensive carpet.

The phone buzzes in Elena's pocket. Uncle John again. She knows he means well and that he genuinely cares for her wellbeing however, she's tired of the little favors he always asks for regarding the business. Her father started the company and built it into a multi-million dollar empire. When her father died, John took over the reins as Elena was too young, not that she has any interest in a day to day job anyway.

Every time she gives in to his requests, he draws her in for a lecture or something else that she has no interest in. With the high end shoe store looming ahead, discounts on all that footwear she had denied herself, behaving at the behest of Uncle John, she just can't do it anymore. Sales - the most beautiful word in the English language. She pulls out the phone and sets it to silent. Her uncle isn't ruining this for her.

Sure she knows there is family duty but when she thinks of the soft nubile Italian leather, there's no contest really. Ducking into the store, she spends nearly two hours there, walking out with three boxes costing her nearly two thousand dollars, charged to her credit card of course.

The bills go to Uncle John as he manages her trust fund, it's not like she has to worry about paying for it. When she gets to her car and after putting the shoe boxes in the back seat, she checks her phone, seven missed calls... What now?! she rolls her eyes, slides behind the wheel and drives home to get ready for an evening out.

Elena dresses herself to the nines in a Marchesa dress paired with Stuart Weitzman pumps and heads out to meet some friends at a night club. The music is loud, lights are flashing, she can barely hear herself think, much less hear her phone ring.

"Elena, hi," Caroline approaches dragging Tyler behind her.

"Caroline," Elena stands to give her the obligatory hug.

"So what are we celebrating tonight?" Caroline asks, taking a seat beside her and their other friend Bonnie.

"Do we need a reason to celebrate?" Elena takes a swallow of her bourbon. When she sets the glass down on their table, she notices her phone lighting up.

"Uncle John?"

Elena, there's a benefit to raise money for the Children's Hospital tomorrow evening. I expect you to be there."

"Mm, Children's Hospital?"

"Yes, it's one of our charities..."

"You can count on me, Uncle," she sighs and clicks off the phone. "Ugh, Caroline, I need a break, I'm so bored with life."

"It's not like you don't have the money to do something decidedly not boring," Caroline takes a sip from her lemon drop martini.

"You're right, I need a vacation - just need to decide where I'm going to go. Uncle John will kill me if I don't show up at his little event."

"He'll get over it soon enough," Caroline shrugs her shoulders.

"Caroline, don't encourage her," Bonnie interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

"You've convinced me. Cheers," Elena raises her glass, clinks it with her friends then downs what's left of her bourbon in one long slog.

Elena wakes to a pounding headache and a vomit flavored taste in her mouth. At least the curtains are mostly still closed, she's as adverse to sunlight as Dracula himself after a night of drinking. After catching a glimpse of the clock, she rolls onto her belly and closes her eyes again, letting sleep pull her back under.

Sometime later, the throbbing in her temples is enough to pull her to consciousness. "Ugh," she moans at the layer of dry saliva that's coating her lips and drags herself out of bed and into the bathroom.

Once she brushes her teeth and showers, she finds something to eat then pulls out her phone. Relaxing back on the couch with her legs on the end table, her device in hand, she happens to catch a glimpse of her rose under glass. It was a gift from her mother the Christmas before she died. When she was a little girl, her mom and dad took her to see a performance of 'Beauty and the Beast' on Broadway.

Sighing, she quickly shrugs the melancholy off and clicks Bonnie's icon.

"Elena, hey, I can't talk now, I'm at work."

"When do you get off?"

"It's only 2 o'clock, I don't get off till 5."

"Can't you just leave? I mean, I'm going on a fabulous getaway."

"Yeah, you mentioned that last night."

"Come with me."

"Elena, perhaps you didn't hear me I'm at work. And I can't just drop everything when you have one of your whims."

"Surely they can do without you for a few days?"

"Earth to Elena, are you purposely ignoring me?"

"Bonnie, we'll go some place nice, I'll let you pick."

"No Elena, I have responsibilities. Goodbye," she ends their connection.

"Be that way then," Elena tosses her phone to the side. Sighing, she opens her laptop and looks at a map of the United States. She's been to most states so she chooses one she has yet to visit - Idaho. With a Grinch like smirk on her face, she retrieves her phone and calls the hangar that houses her uncle's plane, and quickly makes arrangements to have it ready so she can leave in two hours.

"Sorry Uncle John," she says when she sees his face appear on her screen. Ignoring it, she gets up, packs her things and leaves quickly before he shows up to drag her to yet another boring charity affair.

While en route, she picks up her phone and calls Bonnie again to give her another chance to come along. "Bonnie, it's me, I'm on my way to the airport. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?"

"Elena, I told you no. I can't just up and leave on the spur of the moment, I have bills to pay."

"I don't want to go alone," Elena tries to guilt her friend.

"It's always all about you isn't it? You're so spoiled."

"You know what? You're making me regret ever inviting you along."

"Inviting me? More like guilt tripping me into coming."

"Whatever! You get to free-load on a dream vacation," Elena retorts, her free hand fisting at her side.

"I'm not one of your groupies or free-loading friends and I'm tired of you holding your money over my head."

"I don't do that."

"Yes, Elena, you do. It was your uncle's idea to help my grams when she was sick and I'll forever be grateful for that. But you... anytime it's to your advantage, you take credit for it."

"You're being ridiculous!" Elena's scoffs.

"No, what's ridiculous is you using that to get me to do whatever you want, like go along on this stupid trip."

"I don't even understand what you're complaining about. I mean you should feel lucky to even have me around," Elena defends herself.

"You are so full of yourself - you actually think the world revolves around you."

"Apparently not the whole world. You know what, you can just go back to your mundane little job because I'm uninviting you," Elena clicks off the phone and flings it towards her purse, not noticing that it bounces off her bag and falls on the floor.

Elena parks her car and then pays one of the airport workers to carry her bags to the Gilbert plane. Once they're stowed on board, she gives the man a nice tip before climbing into the cockpit. She remembers being fascinated with flying since her first passenger flight years ago. She couldn't believe how fast the plane climbed to cruising speed, it was almost like she was in a Star Wars movie with Han making the jump into hyper space with the Millennium Falcon.

She was nervous when she had her first solo flight as a pilot. It seemed so much faster than rides she was used to as a passenger. It took her probably 200 hours before she felt comfortable at the helm.

Elena remembers everything about that day. They started in the early afternoon. It was November and cold. Though she knew the book backwards and forwards, passed the oral and sim rides, and had plenty of experience flying people, she was still on edge. That day, she drove to the airport with her windows down as to not sweat through her crisp white shirt. But once they were in the air, it felt like magic, like nothing could hold her back and now she flies whenever an opportunity presents itself.

Having chosen a small out of the way town so her uncle won't find her right away, Elena lands the company plane at the Spokane airport. He'll have no trouble finding the plane but Wallace, Idaho is so far off the beaten path that she doubts he'll be able to track her down before she's ready to go home.

After renting a car, she begins to drive east into Idaho. It's beautiful country, should make for great skiing. She grips the wheel tighter and with the sun beginning to set, she pulls into the small town of Wallace, pulling into what looks like the finest motel she noticed on her trek through the town. She books a room and rolls her eyes when the proprietor tells her there's no one to carry her bags for her.

It's late by the time she finishes, so she showers, slips into her pajamas and plops down on the bed. Scrolling through the channels, she finds nothing interesting so she sighs heavily and tosses the remote aside and lets her eyes drift closed.

"The ski area is over there," the clerk points, his head on the computer.

"Where's there?" Elena raises her Tiffany sunglasses and glares at the man.

"Lady, just follow the signs, it's not rocket science."

"What's your name? I intend to report you when I leave this... this place," she sneers at him.

"I'm sorry, your grace," he bows then turns around and hands her a local map. "You just follow the road signs and they'll lead you to a few ski areas. Be careful though, it's supposed to snow today."

With huff, she snatches the map out of his hand, leaves the building, jumps in her rental and drives down the scenic highway till she finds what looks like a nice spot to do some cross country skiing.

Finding a remote area, she drives off the road a short distance, parks the vehicle then straps on her skis. There's a lot of trees and pristine mountains close by. It's beautiful, that's one thing she can appreciate.

With poles in each hand, she shuffles her feet and moves over the snow. An hour later, she finds a large downed tree, sits down, lifts her goggles and looks at her surroundings. It's quiet except for the occasional crow or bird sounds and the skittering sound of a rabbit or squirrel. She grimaces at the thought of that and quickly looks around again. Standing up, she decides to go a little farther into the forest towards the mountain's face. Suddenly her ski catches on something and she falls forward, hitting the ground face first.

She screams as loud as she can as she wipes the snow from her face. Then she hears a rumbling sound and looks around. The avalanche comes faster than God on a skateboard. One minute the slopes are pristine and the next they're moving. It would be funny if it weren't so deadly, but there isn't time to laugh anyway. In seconds the powder is around her, kissing coldly.

In another moment the weight of the snow is on her back and her forward momentum is no longer under her control. Elena tumbles over and over, crushed from all sides. Time passes both in slow motion and in a flash, then she's still. The light is gone. The snow could be any color and she wouldn't know the difference. She's colder than she's ever been.

After only a few seconds her brain is in full panic, there are no coordinated movements, just clawing through the snow that threatens to invade her already burning lungs.

Should she try to conserve oxygen?

In and out...

But she can't do that. Black spots are already swimming in front of her eyes. She needs to get out of here fast.

In and out...

Finally, she manages to claw through and takes a huge inhale followed by another and another then she miraculously manages to free herself from her white prison. She searches for her cellphone and wants to hit herself leaving it behind.

She struggles to stand up and hurts all over, she thinks her ankle is broken or badly sprained. She knows she has to try to get help or she'll die. With the sun sinking in the west, she can barely see in the darkness, the light so dim her heart beats all the faster. Moving along, using the trees for support, she hobbles along. The only thing keeping her from breaking down in tears is the thought that they'll freeze on her face.

Adrenaline floods her system, It pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. She thinks her heart will explode and is certain her eyes are wide with fear. Saliva thickens in her throat and with her gut churning, she struggles not to vomit.

Her breaths are ragged and harsh as she takes those first steps. Sweat drenches her skin, her eyes throb and her own screams vibrate in her ears and her heart thumps chaotically against her chest. Fear engulfs her conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside. Fear overwhelms her body, making it drastically exhausted.

Somehow she manages to keep moving. Wandering aimlessly through the woods, she slaps her hand across her chest when she sees lights ahead. With her adrenaline surging, she moves as quickly as she can, finally reaching the log house. "Someone help me... Please!" she pounds on the door. "Hello? I need to use a phone, please just... hello? Can you let me in? I'm lost and hurt..." When no one comes, she turns the knob and lets herself in.

Looking around, Elena doesn't find anyone so she drops down on the couch and raises her bad ankle. Laying her head back, her eyes drift closed from sheer exhaustion.

"I didn't see Elena at the fundraiser," Carol mentions to John as she takes a seat in front of his desk.

"No, she used the plane, flew to Spokane, Washington, I don't know where she went after that..." John turns in his chair and looks out the floor to ceiling windows in his office.

"You do have the authority to cut her off... I read over the trust agreement, you have the option of holding back the money until she turns thirty."

"I don't know if we need to be that drastic, not yet anyway," John sighs.

"That's not what I'm suggesting but you can do what's best for her... Even if she doesn't like it."

"I appreciate your input, Carol," he gets up to see her out of his office.

"Think about what I said, John. I am tired of her surprises that keep coming at the end of each quarter."

"Yes, Carol," he nods to placate her, then sees her out the door.

Damon sets his pole and stringer down when he reaches his cabin. He did a little ice fishing today, but they weren't biting. When he notices there's a light on inside, he gets a little alarmed, he's certain he didn't leave any on when he left the house this morning.

Carefully he steps inside and ever so quietly, he pulls his rifle out of the gun safe then starts looking around, his eyes widen when he finds the culprit - a woman sound asleep on his couch.

"Hey," he pokes her with the butt of his gun. When she doesn't move, he prods her again, "You awake, hello?"

Elena raises an eyelid and upon seeing the gun, skitters back against the couch, grimacing at the pain in her leg. "Get away from me."

"You're in my house," he responds with incredulity.

"I said get away from me."

"What about I live here do you not understand?" he arches an eyebrow.

"Are you dangerous?" she relaxes slightly when he puts the rifle away.

"No, I'm not dangerous but I do protect what's mine," comes over his shoulder.

"My head hurts and so does my ankle."

"You broke into my home."

"I knocked first," she retorts defensively.

"And then you broke in," Damon crosses his arms over his chest.

"The door was unlocked, what did you expect?" Elena scowls at him.

"That doesn't make it an invitation."

"Listen, please. I need some food and something to drink... and some pain killers would be nice."

"I'm not your waiter," he spits out.

"Obviously not. But you'll do in a pinch."

"That's it. Get out... now!"

"I can't, I'm hurt," she protests.

"Well that didn't stop you from getting here."

"I got lost!"

"So not my problem."

"I'm making it your problem. Now get me some food," Elena demands, sticking her tongue out at him.

Damon tightens his lips, and walks off, returning moments later and with a defiant look on his face, hands her a can opener and something else.

"Beans? In a can?"

"Eat up," he quips and leaves to bring some wood in for the fireplace.

After Damon stokes the fire to warm the room up, he looks over his shoulder at Elena. "You're rested, fed, now you can be on your way."

"No, I won't. My ankle hurts, everything does really, even to breathe," she pouts.

"Sadly not enough to keep you from talking though."

"I told you it hurts when I breathe! Call an ambulance!"

"Uh, no," Damon shakes his head.

"Fine. A cab, whatever..."

"There's no phone or internet here."

"Then you'll just have to drive me to the hospital."

"Where's your car? I didn't see one anywhere nearby."

"My rental is somewhere, I don't know. I walked here."

"From where?"

"If I knew that, I would have gone there and not come here. Just get your keys."

"Listen, to me carefully, I don't have a car."

"For Christ sake," she mumbles under her breath. "Look, whatever your name is, I'm rich, alright, so whatever it takes, just get me back to civilization."

"I just told you that I don't have a car."

"Well why not? What kind of moron doesn't have a car?"

"I don't have one because I don't need one."

"Seriously? So you're just isolated up here?"

"I was until you got here," Damon sticks another log on the fire then gets up to go into his room.

"Wait, there's really no phone, car, a snowmobile?"

"Nope," he shakes his head back and forth.

"Then how am I supposed to get back to my motel?"

"There is nothing within thirty miles of here. No bus stops either. The only way back is to walk."

"That doesn't make any sense! How do you live like a Neanderthal?"

"I have someone who brings me supplies once a month."

"Now we're getting somewhere, when does he or she come again?"

"Not for another two weeks. The only way back in the meantime is on foot."

"Fine. Then this will just have to do."

"Oh no, this will not do," he shakes his head.

"You can't expect me to walk anywhere like this."

"Lady, I don't expect anything except for you to leave," he takes a breath to keep himself from exploding.

"Well I'm in no condition to do that so that's out of the question."

"Sure you are. Just stand up, hop over there until you're on the other side of the door," Damon points to it.

"I'm not limping my way back to civilization."

"Now you listen to me, I don't care where you go but you're not staying here."

Elena scoffs at him, "You wouldn't just throw me out in the cold? I'm tired, cold, I need a bath... Which one's my room? And don't you have anything else, I mean like women's clothes?"

As much as Damon doesn't want the company, she's right, he can't just kick her out in the cold. "You want me to take a look at that ankle?"

"Are you a doctor?" she looks at him skeptically.

"I know a thing or two about medicine," he sits down on the couch by her legs so he can examine her ankle.

"What's your name?"

"Damon."

"I'm Elena Gilbert."

Damon runs his fingers over her swollen and bruised ankle. "This is probably going to hurt."

"It does!" she yanks it away from him.

"I can't say definitively that it's not broken without an x ray but I don't think it is. I believe it's just sprained."

"You think?"

"You have to ice it and stay off it for the next few days."

"It hurts," she snaps.

"It's supposed to. Hang on..."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to wrap it, but loose enough you can still have some movement," he returns shortly.

"Easy!" she bares her teeth with her grimace. "I though you just said I was not meant to move it."

"Well you want some give for motion, it's going to hurt but if we make it too tight, it'll hurt more when you walk around on it later." When he finishes with her ankle, he asks, "What's wrong with your side? I've seen you guarding it."

"The snow crashed down on top of me, I slammed into a log."

"Where? Ribs?"

"I don't know, I nearly died."

"Well you said it hurts to breathe. Show me where." Damon looks at the area when she points to where she's having pain. "You've probably some cracked or bruised ribs. There's nothing you can do about, just take it easy and let them heal. You have to take deep breaths even though it hurts, you don't need to get pneumonia too when we don't have any help coming for almost three weeks."

"How do you know that anyway?"

"I just do okay, I told you that I know a little about first aide."

"What's with all this flannel anyway?" she points at his buffalo check shirt. "Is this mountain man chic or something?"

"My clothes are none of your business."

"You should really have some standards," she arches an eyebrow.

"You're welcome," he retorts sarcastically when she doesn't thank him.

Sometime later, he goes into the living room, finding Elena asleep. He throws some more logs on the fire to keep the place warm.

"Do you mind?" Elena snaps, rolls over and pulls the blanket over her head.

"Would you rather freeze?"

"It would do you well to remember that I'm a guest."

"No, you're an intruder, guests are expected."

"I'm not listening, she sticks her tongue out at him then ducks under the covers again.

It takes all of Damon's self control not to toss her out on her backside right now...

"Come in Carol," John says aloud when he sees her standing in the doorway. He drops his eyes back to the album spread out on his desktop.

"What are you doing?"

"You should have met my brother. He was a great guy and quite a bit younger than me."

"Very handsome," Carol smiles at him, looking over his shoulder.

"It's true, Grayson got the good looks in the family," John laughs and turns the page.

"Is that where Elena gets it from?"

"Perhaps, Grayson was fierce in standing up for people. And animals too. I can't count how many strays he brought home. I suppose that's how my parents felt about Miranda when he brought her home. Just another stray, not good enough for him."

"You disagreed?"

"I stayed out of it. In hindsight I should have been supportive. I had little interest in marriage or family of my own. Then they died and I found myself having to watch over a little Elena."

"What was she like... as a child I mean?"

"Precocious, always thinking. She'd smile sweetly to win you over and that was it."

"So not much has changed," Carol smiles down at him.

"I wasn't the best roll model but I doted on her the best I could." John nods at when he feels Carol's hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Elena hobbles to the doorway, opening it up when she notices Damon.

"Um - feeding the birds," he pours some more food in the feeder.

"What are you, fourteen?"

"What do you have against birds and what are you doing out here anyway?"

'What do you mean?" she quirks her brows.

"Well you're obviously not from here..." he spreads his arm over the scenery.

"What was your first clue? And what's with the no phone, no internet, no anything? It's a bit boring don't you think?"

"It's quiet. I like it that way."

"It's too quiet, it's weird," Elena twirls her index finger, silently gesturing she thinks he's cuckoo.

"So where are you from?"

"I'm a city girl and if you didn't live like a caveman out here you would probably recognize me," she says haughtily.

"Let me guess... an actress?"

"I'm rich," she flaunts her jewelry in front of his face.

"Congratulations."

"You still haven't told me anything about yourself."

"That's right," he arches an eyebrow when he passes her but she follows him back inside and watches while he retrieves his rifle.

"Where are you going?"

"I heard an animal a little bit ago, I want to make sure it's not caught in a trap, some people still use those barbaric things," he slips his jacket on and she watches through the window till he's out of sight.

Damon is outside in his workshop where he has an assortment of sculptures carved from downed tree trunks. With a chainsaw as his tool, he cuts away at the wood until the creation comes alive under his craftmanship. A shop in town sells them for a commission, but he's gaining a reputation as a talented artist in the area. Although noisy and he needs to wear expensive earphones for protection, he really enjoys the fruits of his labors. He's made bears, eagles, wolves and all kinds of things.

Besides, when he's out here, he doesn't have to listen to that beast of a woman whine. Shuddering, he fires up his saw and soon the log begins to tell its story.

Elena's bored and as long as she can hear that dreadful chainsaw, she knows Damon's outside so she decides to do a little snooping. Doesn't she have a right to know if she's staying with a serial killer or some kind of a psychopath? she rationalizes what she's about to do.

Looking around in his bookcase, she does find some medical literature but when she thumbs through the pages she doesn't find anything. As if it's been ordained, she happens to notice the corner of what appears to be a trunk, tucked behind a recliner near the fireplace. "Hmmm?"

Wasting no time, she hobbles over there and carefully drops to her knees. Even though she knows where he is, she certainly doesn't want him to catch her digging through his personal belongings. Slowly she lifts the lid and isn't really surprised when the first thing she sees is a diploma from a medical school. So he is a doctor...

As she digs deeper she finds some pictures of him and a woman, one who's wearing a diamond on that finger. Elena immediately wonders what happened, did they marry, did they divorce, did she die?

And then she finds a newspaper clipping of an obituary. A little boy, five years old. She doesn't know Damon's last name so she has no idea if it was his child although his photo doesn't resemble her host or the woman. Why would he have this?"

Suddenly she realizes the chainsaw is silent so she quickly puts everything back in the little trunk and shoves it back in its hiding place. Standing up, she limps over to the couch, sits down and is about to raise her leg when Damon enters.

"Are you done making that awful noise?" Elena rolls her eyes.

"For now yes," he answers then goes to wash up and change clothes.

Once Damon comes back downstairs, he's surprised to see Elena gone. He looks around and then he catches sight of pillar of steam rising from the sliding glass doors leading out into his forest backyard. Sucking in a deep breath, he feels his own burst of steam escape when he sees her lounging in his hot tub.

"What are you doing out here?" he glares at her, his arms akimbo.

"There's nothing else to do, no internet, no fun, no nothing."

"You didn't even ask."

"In case you haven't heard, women don't need a man's permission in this century.

Fuming inside, Damon reaches over and turns off the bubbler. "Get out."

"No," Elena raises her chin in defiance.

"GET. OUT!"

Elena quirks her brows and stands up revealing her naked body to him.

"Really?" Damon shakes his head.

"Well, you're the one insisted that I get out and it's not like you had a woman's swimsuit available," she says coyly, steps out and walks into the house leaving a slack jawed Damon behind.

After taking a walk to cool off, Damon returns to make some supper. Sometime later, he finds her stretched out in front of the fireplace reading one of his books. Rather than get into it with her again, he decides to let it pass.

"Here's your plate," he hands it to her.

"Ewww, what is that?" Elena turns up her nose at him.

"Turkey meatloaf - take it or leave it."

"That is horrible," she quickly swallows it down then shoves the plate back to him. "I don't know how you can eat that." she shudders.

"Did your parents forget to teach you any manners?"

"Yes, because they died."

Damon's silent for a moment. "I'm sorry but we have to set some ground rules. While you're here, you're going to have to follow them. Got it?"

"Oh no, am I in trouble?" she mocks him.

"One; you eat what I prepare or you fend for yourself and two; whining all day won't win you any points so please just try not to be so difficult, okay?"

"I'm not."

"You are the epitome of rudeness and on top of that, you're the most self-centered person I've ever known. You've been here for a grand total of two days and you've done nothing but whine, snip and complain. I don't think a thank-you has ever once crossed your mind."

"What do you expect, I am completely bored..."

"Forgive me your highness," Damon bows dramatically and then makes his escape, slamming his bedroom door shut so hard that she feels the floor vibrate.

After a rather fitful night's sleep, Elena removes her ace bandage and massages her ankle. Although the swelling is down, the bruising is dreadful and she turns up her nose. She bathes then rewraps it before gingerly going downstairs. A little surprised that Damon is nowhere to be seen, she shrugs it off, throws a jacket on then goes outside to look around. The air is frozen lace on her skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on sallow sand. The sky is washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. In some moments she watches her boots over the frozen ground and in others transfixed to the interplay of cloud and sun above. The path sparkles and crunches, like sugar underfoot.

Not seeing Damon anywhere, she goes back inside to find something to do. Her eyes catch a glimpse of light playing off on of his hanging copper pots so she hobbles into the kitchen and starts going through the cupboards, till she finds a recipe book. Thumbing through it, she finds something simple then props the page open by setting a mug on each half of the paper. Then she pulls the ingredients, measuring them out carefully before following the cooking instructions.

"What are you doing?" Damon finally appears, his heavy buffalo check jacket covered in a dusting of snow.

"Where were you?"

"Cutting some wood for the fireplace. Did you miss me princess?" Damon arches an eyebrow.

"No, I really didn't, but I'm going crazy with boredom so I decided to cook something," she picks up a wooden spoon and stirs.

"What are you making?" he brushes the snow off his jacket then hangs it up on the peg attached to the wall next to the door.

"Pancakes."

"Really?" he sits down on one of the stools and leans over the counter. "You aiming to impress?"

"You could be nicer too," Elena snaps, sliding a plate in front of him.

He eyes it carefully then picks up the fork and takes a bite. "Um," Damon grabs some water to swallow it down.

Noticing his reaction, Elena takes a bite herself, her face screws up. "They're horrible," she looks at Damon and sees the big roll of his Adam's apple. "You swallowed that?"

"Unlike you, I didn't want to be rude."

"I followed the recipe... I don't understand why they're so bad."

"Are your sure?"

"I'm not an imbecile, I know how to read a recipe."

"How much baking powder did you use?"

"Just a bit, what was called for," she shows him the container.

"That's baking soda," he points at the yellow container.

"I grabbed..."

"The wrong one," Damon finishes her sentence.

"See this is exactly why I don't cook," she discards the pancakes in the wastebasket, smearing some grease on one of the shirts he let her borrow.

"Never?"

"No, never, and I got it all over your shirt," she sighs, her shoulders slumping.

"It's easy enough to wash," Damon calls over his shoulder as he disappears up the stairs. Moments later he returns with another one, a woman's.

"You entertain female company?"

"No, it's my ex-fiance's. I don't care if her stuff gets dirty."

"The paparazzi may show up at any moment and I would hate for them to see me in your clothes," she sticks out her tongue. "I'm practically famous," Elena brags.

"So you've said."

"How long ago did you break your engagement?"

"Not that it's any of your business but a couple of years ago."

"Who was the one that did the breaking up and is that why you live like a hermit?"

Not liking where this conversation is leading, Damon stands up and moves to stand toe to toe with her. "My personal life is none of your concern," he talks through gritted teeth then with one long stare into her brown eyes, he puts his jacket back on and leaves the house and the next thing she hears is the sound of his chainsaw.

"Hello, Bonnie, this is John Gilbert, do you happen to know where Elena is? She took the company plane, it's in Spokane, Washington and we know she rented a vehicle but then she sort of dropped off the map. She hasn't used her credit cards or even her cellphone, nothing. I'm beginning to get a little anxious."

"No, Mr. Gilbert, she said she needed a vacation, she didn't say it specifically but I got the feeling she wanted to drop off the radar."

"I suppose some hot guy probably caught her attention. Elena's pretty sharp but she does have the occasional lapse in judgment..."

"Well she sure let that Liam guy pull the wool over her eyes. I'm sure she's fine, you would have heard by now if something was wrong."

"If you hear from her, I'd appreciate if you'd keep me in the loop."

"Of course, Mr. Gilbert," she ends the call.

"Where are you Elena?" John says to himself as he stares at the Manhattan skyline.

"Did you make all these?" Elena asks, running her hand over the rough edges of a dragon sculpture that stands as a sentinel at the door of his workshop.

"Yeah," he looks up his desk.

Elena shrugs, "so many little details. It's an interesting hobby."

"It keeps me occupied."

"Well what do you do with them all?" she looks at him curiously.

"I have a guy in town who sells them for me."

"I'm going back inside, do you have any pain killers?"

"I have some, I just need to finish this and then I'll get you something."

Elena nods then hobbles back inside, plopping down on the couch with her ankle raised on a pillow. Hearing the door open, she looks over her shoulder as Damon slips off his coat.

"How bad is it?"

"It still hurts but it's better."

"You mind if I take a look?" he sits down on the coffee table to examine it. "It looks better, not as swollen, pretty bruised though."

"What makes you an expert on sprained ankles?" she scowls at him.

"I know a little bit about medicine okay?"

"Like a doctor?"

Damon expels a breath, "It's really none of your business."

"You certainly don't advertise it, don't want all the neighbors to come around asking for favors?"

"I'm not having this conversation," Damon gets up and walks into the kitchen to get himself something hot to drink.

"Do you practice at all? You're too young to be retired. What sort of a doctor were you?"

"What part of me not talking about this do you not understand?" Having had enough of her constant barrage, he darts up the stairs, disappearing from her field of vision when he goes into his room.

"Carol, what is it that you want?"

"John, I want you to acknowledge that Elena is unfit to receive the bulk of her inheritance till she turns 30."

"This is my niece you're talking about Carol, not some girl whose name is listed on someone's will."

"I realize that but do you really want her to throw it all away?"

"I'm not signing anything until I find out where she is and what she's been doing. Wherever that might be, she isn't throwing money away, she hasn't used her cards at all."

"Fine," Carol huffs, "Mark my words, you'll regret this," she adds then walks out, leaving John angry in her wake.

The longer Damon stays in his room, the madder Elena gets. Sitting up, she decides she's going to get some answers whether he likes it or not. She starts going through kitchen drawers and under magazines, any place that would hide something. Coming up empty handed so far, she sneaks into his office, and starts rummaging through his drawers.

"Yes," she laps her hand over her mouth at being too loud when she finds a met box. Using a paper clip, she picks the lock, sits down in his chair and starts milling through its contents.

"Dr. Damon Salvatore, renowned cardiac surgeon announces retirement from Boston's Brigham and Women's Hospital."

She peruses the article but really can't find a reason for his abrupt departure.

Digging a little deeper, Elena finds an obituary for a young boy, five years old who died having heart surgery. It doesn't take much to put two and two together. She wonders what he did that caused the boy's death. Did he retire rather than lose his license? A 100 questions pop into her head and she has to wonder who Damon Salvatore really is.

With her head deep in his business, she startles, nearly jumping out of her chair when a palm slams down on the desktop. "What the hell are you doing?"

Immediately getting defensive, Elena sneers at him. "I'm trying to learn about the man I've been living with."

"My past is none of your goddamned business," he fumes, furious with her for digging into his life. "Is this what you do, break into people's houses and turn their lives upside down?"

"How dare you, you know what. What I've done is nothing compared to what you've turned upside down. You killed that boy didn't you? That's why you don't work as a doctor anymore. How many other lives have you ruined?"

"You don't know anything!"

"Your whole existence is pathetic," she screams, waving the boy's obituary in his face.

"My past is mine, I'll live with it the rest of my life but you," he wags his finger at her, "you think that the whole world revolves around you. You are the most self centered person I have ever known."

"At least I'm not a killer," she hurries out of the room. Not caring about her ankle and without considering the danger, Elena grabs her coat and leaves Damon's home, putting as much distance between the two of them as she possibly can.

Elena wanders aimlessly through the woods but with darkness setting in, a paralyzing fear spreads through her body like an icy liquid metal. Clenching her fists, she spins around, not knowing which way to turn to get back to Damon. She bites down on her lip till the taste of blood fills her mouth. Slowly her brain picks up her feet in an unbalanced gait, carelessly dropping like lead weights with each harrowing step. Her heart is throbbing as she stumbles in the blanket of snow. The sky is hidden above the canopy of the trees, with only one sound to be heard; the sound of her own pulse throbbing in her ears.

A narrow stream of moonlight illuminates little areas of ground as she starts to scream, hoping that Damon will miraculously hear her terrified timbre of her voice.

With only the waxing moon for light, the blackness is almost complete. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she hears the mournful howling of some creature. Fear bubbles up even stronger and she runs again, hoping it's towards his house.

When she comes upon an outcropping of rocks, she climbs up, hoping she'll see the glow of light in his windows. The evening is cold, her blood is icy and her muscles tense. She has no idea what time it is anymore, each second is an eternity. Stark terror creeps over her like a spider crawling on her bare skin. All she can do is pray that Damon is looking for her before she succumbs to the frigid temperature...

An hour passes and with it now dark outside, Damon knows he has to find Elena and fast. He grabs his rifle because predators come out at night and after dressing appropriately he takes off into the night, flashlight in hand. Finding a set of footprints, he follows them until they disappear when the wind picks up and blows the snow around.

"Elena, Elena," he calls out, his voice silenced by the sound of coyotes howling at the moon. Moving forward, he continues to call her name, looking under brush, pine trees and outcroppings of rock. When the wind gives him a respite he hears something, a whimpering like sound. "Elena, where are you?" he yells as loud as he can.

A faint "Damon" comes from behind him and he hurries, quickly finding her curled in a ball behind a big rock.

"Damon," she croaks, "I'm numb all over."

"I've got you," he sets his rifle aside hands her the flashlight then picks her up, grabs his weapon and carries her through the snow back to his cabin. Once inside, he runs her a hot bath, brings her a pair of flannel pajamas then leaves her alone to warm up.

When she comes downstairs a little while later, wrapped in a blanket, she hobbles over to the couch to sit down beside him.

"Here, take this," Damon hands her a mug of hot chocolate then gets up to pour himself one.

""I'm... I'm really sorry. About everything. I was angry. I shouldn't have..."

"No, you shouldn't have. But I suspect you don't say that very often do you?" he sits back down.

"You're right, I don't ever apologize, I've always done whatever I wanted, no matter the consequences."

"I didn't kill anybody, Elena."

"Then why did you quit practicing medicine?"

"The boy died on my operating table, his heart was just too badly damaged, I couldn't save him. The next time I went into a surgery, I froze - I couldn't make the incision. Fortunately the doctor who was to assist me was capable of doing the operation. I quit after that."

"Don't you miss it?"

"I miss it every day. My brother and his wife think I'm crazy for working with a chainsaw, I could easily have an accident..."

"As long as we're talking, what about your fiancé?"

"She hated this place. Not that I blame her. She was dragged through a lot of rumor and innuendo. People thought the same thing you did and she got tired of the looks. I don't hate her, she tried but in the end, she didn't want to live like the Wilderness Family."

"I'm sorry that I snooped," she takes a long swallow from her mug of hot cocoa. "It's just so strange, a youngish, handsome man like you living alone out here, it's weird, you're a recluse."

"This is how I choose to live and my past isn't quite the juicy story you were looking for, huh?" Damon arches an eyebrow.

"No, I guess not..." she looks away, feeling something strange. Is this what shame feels like?

"Now that you know my story, what's yours?"

"My parents died in a car accident when I was eight."

'That must have been hard."

"My uncle was preoccupied with building the family business, he gave me whatever I wanted."

"Money's no substitute for parents..." Damon realizes that she's probably been spoiled rotten her whole life to make up for her folks dying.

"Yeah, but the money is what they left behind... That sounds really heartless, doesn't it?"

Damon shakes his head, and swallows what's left in his cup.

"Sometimes I wonder what they would think of me, if they were here..." Elena sneezes, and reaches for a Kleenex.

"It's late, I'm tired, you're tired, we'll talk tomorrow," Damon puts their mugs in the kitchen then helps her to her room.

"Goodnight, thank you for saving me," she raises on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.

"Goodnight, Elena," Damon says softly then walks away.

She watches till he's gone then closes her own door and crawls into bed.

"Mr. Gilbert?" his secretary Olivia peeks in the room.

"Yes."

"You have a phone call from Miss Elena's credit card company. Mrs. Lockwood thought you should speak with him."

"Put it through."

Olivia nods and pulls the door closed while John takes the call.

A little while later, Carol Lockwood barges in, "What did they say?"

"You know exactly what they said," he tells her matter-of-factly.

"She's been gone almost two weeks. I tried calling but she isn't returning it."

"Elena's not going to change, John, and I think it's time you take steps to make her fall in line. I had my assistant draw up an agreement."

"You want me to cut her off?"

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"You have a lot of nerve, Carol. Elena is my niece and until I talk to her, I'm not changing anything. Next time you take these matters into your own hands without consulting me, you'll be finding yourself in need of a job. Are we clear?"

"Your niece is an out of control beast, she has little regard for people and no sense of fiscal responsibility. Whether you want to admit it or not, you know if she receives her next stipend, she'll have it gone in a matter of months."

"That's enough, Carol, close the door on your way out," John turns his back to the woman, closing his eyes when the door slams shut.

"Good morning," Elena hands Damon a cup of coffee and slides a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him.

"What's this?" he slides onto one of the stools and picks up his fork.

"It's the least I could do to thank you for saving my life."

"All in a day's work," he laughs and takes a bite of food. "I should tell you that my delivery guy is coming the day after tomorrow. He'll give you a ride back to the city. You're probably more than ready to go home..."

"And you're probably ready for some peace and quiet?" Elena quirks her brows.

Damon pauses and meets her eyes. "Well I just thought you'd like to know that your salvation is close at hand."

"Day after tomorrow?"

He nods, finishes what's left on his plate then gets up to put it in the sink. "I'm going to my workshop, in case you're intent on snooping again, there's nothing else to find..."

Elena's eyes snap to his.

"I'm kidding," he laughs, grabs his coat and leaves the house. Elena watches him walk past the window. Her eyes drift to the dishes in the sink. She's never done dishes before in her life.

"There's a first time for everything, Elena," and so she looks under the sink for some dish soap then runs the water and washes them. It's really not hard, actually she kind of likes the smell of the Ivory soap. When they're clean and drying in the drain board, Elena puts her boots on. The swelling is down enough that she can finally get them on. After slipping into her coat, she goes outside to watch Damon create a masterpiece. She's decided she's going to buy one and take it back home for her uncle.

"It's amazing what you're able to do with a chainsaw but aren't you a little afraid?" Elena asks, as they're eating the chicken noodle soup that she heated up.

"I won't deny I miss medicine, I keep up to date with medical journals and maybe someday I will go back to it."

"If I'm being too nosey, feel free to tell me but who was the child that it effected you so adversely?" Elena braces for his answer, nervously tapping the pad of her index finger against the fork's handle.

"A guy I grew up with, he used to be my best friend, it was his son. He and his wife brought him to me cause of my stellar reputation, he air quotes the word. I can't get into specifics - there are laws about such things but his heart was badly damaged, the anesthesia, with the trauma of the surgery itself, it failed."

"That must have been hard. I shouldn't have called you a killer."

"It's done, we won't mention it again..." Damon pours himself another ladle full of soup.

When they finish, she tells him to go into the living room while she cleans up. He arches an eyebrow, knowing she's always had people to do that for her in every sense of the word but he nods and retreats to the living room to throw a couple more logs on the fire.

A short while later, she approaches with carrying a platter of goodies.

"What's this?"

"You've never seen the ingredients for s'mores, here she sticks a marshmallow on a skewer and hands it to him.

"Okay," he sticks them over the flames.

"You're going to burn them."

"I like burnt marshmallows," Damon lifts his chin in mock defiance.

"Fine," she sticks a piece of chocolate on a cookie then pulls the burnt goo from the skewer, slaps it together and hands it to Damon.

"Belgi galettes?"

"I couldn't find any graham crackers. Is it good?" she asks when he takes a generous sized bite.

"A little messy but yeah, it's good," he licks his fingers.

"I'm sticking to chocolate," Elena pops a piece into her mouth. "Can I ask you something?" she turns to face him. When he nods, she picks up a cookie and takes a nibble. "Why did you let me stay?"

"Well as much as you perfected the art of lighting my fuse, I'm not heartless."

"As impossible as it sounds, and I can't believe this is coming out of my mouth, I've actually felt at home here... All good things come to an end - isn't that how the saying goes?"

"Who are you and what did you do to Elena?" he teases then becomes more serious. "Do you really want to go back to that life?"

"Look, it's all I know, I have too much..."

"Is everything about money with you?"

"No for once it's not. I have people who care about me - my uncle for one. Unlike you I can't just leave them behind and hide away up here. Why don't you just go back to Boston?"

"I have nothing to go back to," Damon drops his eyes to his lap.

"That's not true. You could start over somewhere, you admitted you miss medicine."

"What if I run into the family or someone who remembers?"

"So what? Wouldn't that be better than being isolated up here with nothing but your past just hanging over you."

"I don't expect you to understand because you don't face consequences," Damon's starting to get angry.

"I do too," she protests, getting a little mad herself.

"Really? Or do you just make excuses and throw money at a problem until it disappears?"

'Maybe but it's better than just running away with your tail between your legs and wasting your life instead of giving yourself a chance to actually be happy."

"We're done here, you're going to go back to your socialite crowd and extravagant lifestyle. You have everything you need. You'll forget all about this little bump in your otherwise perfect life."

"I intend to," she snarls at him, picks up the plate and starts to take it into the kitchen.,

"It's late. The delivery guy gets here early so you should get some sleep, I'm going to," Damon goes into his room and shuts the door firmly. Sliding down it, he sighs, there's something about that girl. She's such a dichotomy. One moment, she's tolerable, nice even, the next she lights his fuse... And yet, he'd love nothing more than to ravage every square inch of her beautiful olive skin. Knowing that will never happen, he pushes those thoughts out of his head and gets up to take a cold shower before bed.

Their kisses, loud and unchecked, as lips, tongues and teeth nip, clash and soothe. The suckling pop his mouth makes when he releases one nipple, and then the other, after working each of them into a painfully pleasurable state. She whimpers when he dips a finger below the lace of her panties, and he groans in response when he finds her wet and ready from him.

His hips sink down and hers buck up, finally joining them together, and the both of them gasp at how good it feels. Slow, measured strokes soon give way to the frantic slap of hips and skin, as Damon drives into her, his grunts drowning out everything else, until finally he whispers, "Come for me", in her ear. She hurtles over the edge, crying out his name, and bringing him right along with her.

Damon's eyes snap open and when he finds himself alone, he realizes it was only a dream - a beautiful - vivid and impossible dream. Sighing, he closes his eyes and shifts onto his side, hoping his subconscious will take him back to that same place.

"Elena, Mason's ready to leave," Damon calls aloud from the bottom of the steps. Momentarily she appears, he's struck by her beauty. When she reaches the bottom step, she looks up the man who's somehow wormed his way inside of her. Still they're from two different worlds.

"Did you want me to send these clothes back to you?" her eyes drop to the flannel she's wearing.

"No. Keep them. Elena..."

"Goodbye Damon," she smiles and starts to walk outside but just as she puts a hand on the doorknob, he suddenly grabs her by the elbow, spins her around and pins her against the door, then crashes his lips onto hers. His hands dive into her hair, weaving in through the strands and angling her head so that he can devour her mouth in a searing kiss. After a few intense seconds, he pulls away and leans his forehead against hers, as they both struggle to catch their breath.

"Stay with me," he asks, looking deeply into her shining eyes.

"I can't," she leans up, gives him one more kiss on the corner of his mouth then slips through the door, leaving him and what could be... behind.

"Elena, my God, where have you been, I've been worried sick. One more day and I was going to file a missing person's report."

"I'm sorry, uncle John, I lost my phone somewhere and there was no cell service in the forest so I had no way to contact anyone."

"But you're okay? You said you hurt your ankle?"

"I'm fine, my ankle is as good as new. It was all just a big cluster fu… but I'm home now. I'll come and see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay, thanks for calling."

"Bye," she clicks the phone off and tosses it aside, then plops down on the couch to relax for a little bit and think about him.

The next morning as Elena gets ready to go see her uncle, she sits down in front of her vanity and picks up her 'Beauty and the Beast' mirror, the one her mother bought her so long ago. As she considers herself, she almost doesn't recognize the reflection staring back at her. And then like a spark lighting a flame, she realizes why the image has changed, she's not the same person... and she misses Damon.

The sound of the doorbell snaps her out of her reverie. Setting the mirror down, she throws on her bathrobe, goes to the door and steps aside to let Bonnie in.

"Elena, I'm so glad you're okay," Bonnie gives her a hug. "Your uncle called but I figured you were just off somewhere on an extravagant holiday."

"It was extravagant - not," Elena laughs and sits down opposite her friend on the couch.

"You look different somehow... what happened to you?"

"I met someone and he made me realize that although I have everything that money can buy, I don't have everything I want?" Elena explains cryptically.

"What more could you want?"

"To be happy. I mean, when I got there it drove me crazy. But then it was so peaceful, calm and quiet. I actually really grew to like it."

"The quiet or the someone you met?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Just a wee bit," Bonnie smiles and slides her thumb and index finger together. "So give me the rundown on this someone."

"I was horrible to him and he told me so. And it made me feel ashamed."

"How?"

"I felt disappointed in myself like for the first time, maybe ever, it actually bothered me that I had hurt someone else. I've been pretty terrible to you too..."

"Not terrible... Terrible."

"I held money over your head just like you said. And basically guilted you into doing whatever I wanted you to do."

"I never understood why you felt the need to do that."

"Why? Because I wanted you around. Because... maybe I didn't want to lose the one real friend that I have," Elena admits truthfully.

"And you thought the money thing was the way to do it?"

Elena nods, and looks down at her clenched hands. "It's all I've ever known."

"Elena, your money doesn't mean anything to me. We're friends because I like you - well, most of the time anyway," she winks and Elena smiles. "So this guy really got through to you?"

"He did and actually he asked me to stay but I said I couldn't. He'd probably just prefer to forget about me."

"So he asked you to stay, but... you said no. And now you've changed your mind?"

"Well I only said I didn't want to stay there as in stuck in the wilderness, I didn't mean I didn't want to be with him at all."

"Elena, I have seen you chase loser guys all the time. You really like this one - isn't he worth fighting for?"

"I know what I want, but it's hard forget all the horrible things I've done. I need to make it up to you and also to Uncle John too for the all the times I've disappointed him and ditched obligations. If I can't forgive myself how can I expect anyone else to?"

Bonnie slides over and pulls Elena into a hug. "That's what friends are for, Elena, I forgive you. The people that matter - your uncle - he loves you, he'll tell you there's nothing to forgive and you know that."

Elena closes her eyes to stop the flow of tears and hugs her friend back. This feels nice...

"I'm so happy you agreed to come, Elena," John smiles as she drops a slice of ham onto one plate after another. They're volunteering at the homeless shelter, her uncle's company paid for all the food, blankets and pillows.

"There you go," she smiles at a young boy.

"Thank-you," he says and reaches for a bun then continues in the line.

"He's just a kid," she looks at her uncle.

"Yes..." he smiles at the next person as he scoops some corn on the boy's plate.

"I've never had to give these places a thought before."

"Opens your eyes doesn't it?" John looks at her.

"Yeah," Elena brushes some hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. "I'm glad you asked me to help."

"It's not like this is the first time I asked."

"I know and I'm sorry I was such a brat."

"Elena?"

"It's true but I've actually been thinking, if it's alright with you, I'd like to be a little bit more involved. I don't know how much help I'd be but I'd like to try."

"Of course. Are you happy Elena?" John pulls her aside when the line ends.

"I'm trying to be."

"I only ask because you've been different somehow since you returned from your little adventure."

"Most people would say that's a good thing," she jokes, smiling at the man who's been a father to her.

"Yes. But I still want you to be happy with your life. What happened out there that it had such a profound effect on you?"

"I met someone and he was... "

"He was?"

"Paul Bunyan, complete with flannel shirt and axe. We're world's apart though, he has his and I have mine."

"There's no written law that says people can't change, look at you."

"I know that but it's not like I can pick up the phone and call him. He is in the middle of nowhere."

"Tell me a little bit about him," John takes her aside to have a chair.

"He's a heart surgeon but isn't practicing medicine right now. He lost a child which affected him deeply so now he lives like Grizzly Adams," she laughs, "I remember you liked that TV show. Now he creates magnificent sculptures with a chainsaw of all things... He's a good man, likes the simple things life has to offer, sees beauty in the things he creates. The little boy's death haunts him though."

"Maybe you're just the person to heal him?"

"I'd like to think so but I think that needs to come from within," Elena sticks a tiny bit of ham in her mouth.

"I'll call and have Julian get the plane ready. You should go to him."

"Uncle John...?"

"Go!"

"I'm not even sure he'll want to see me again."

"Well you won't know unless you try." he pulls her into his arms and gives her a hug.

"Thank you," she takes a deep breath, not wanting to cry there at how lucky she is to have him in her life.

Finding Damon's cabin locked and him nowhere to be found, she's about to drive away when Mason, the man who took her to the airport last time pulls into the driveway.

"Hello, Miss Gilbert," he gets out of the car to check the house.

"Hello, I'm looking for Damon."

"He's gone."

"Gone?" Elena's mouth drops.

"He asked me to watch the place while he's gone."

"Gone where?"

"To New York, I think," Mason checks the locks on the doors and windows.

"Why would he go to New York?"

"I don't know. He left yesterday."

"Okay, thank-you," she gets back into her rental car and calls her uncle.

"Elena, how's it going?"

"He's not here. Apparently he's on his way back to New York."

"To find you no doubt."

"I'd like to think so but there are a plethora of reasons for him to be going there."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm on my way back to the airport. I'll call you when I get home."

"Alright Elena. I'll see you later."

John clicks off the phone and resumes his work. A short while later, there's a knock on his door and his secretary pokes her head in.

"Mr. Gilbert, you have a visitor here. He says it's about Elena."

"Send him in," John stands up to meet this man.

"Hello Mr. Gilbert, I'm Damon Salvatore," he offers his hand and shakes the older man's. "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this."

"How do you know Elena?"

"She stayed at my home for a little while. I'm sorry, I don't know if she told you about her trip to Idaho?"

"You're the man she met."

"Is that good or bad?" Damon jokes uncomfortably.

"Relax son, it's good."

"Do you happen to know where I could find her?"

Since it was late when he left Mr. Gilbert's office yesterday, Damon spent the night in a hotel room. He's nervous when he reaches her apartment door with a bouquet of red roses in one hand. After taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he raises his fist and raps on the door. Suddenly the door flies open.

"Damon?" she practically knocks him over when she leaps at him and wraps her legs around his middle.

"I'm as shocked about it as you are," he winks and sets her down and hands her the flowers, "These are for you."

"They're beautiful," she brings them to her nose to inhale their fragrant scent. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You know what's funny?" Before he has a chance to answer, she continues, "I went to find you and you came here," Elena laughs, urging him inside so she can close the door.

"You went to Idaho?"

"I did. Mason said you left," she extends her arm for him to have a seat. She sits down beside him, but keeps a little distance between them. "Listen I'm sorry. I... I wasn't very nice. I've always did things my own way, got everything I wanted and for the first time, you made me see that there's more to life than material things."

"No, Elena, I was being selfish. I asked you to leave everything behind but I wasn't willing to do the same. Maybe it doesn't even matter now?" he sucks in a breath.

"It does," Elena insists.

"You deserve somebody who can give you a future and for me to have a chance to do that, I've got to be willing to let go of the past."

"So... does that mean you want me in that future?"

"Yeah I do but, Elena, it won't be easy. You barreled into my home and turned my life upside down... and you made me realize that hiding from the world isn't really living."

"Well neither is living without the person that you love," Elena takes his hand and intertwines their fingers.

"I'm so glad I found you," he lays his free hand on top of hers.

"Are you sure that you're ready for me?" Elena arches an eyebrow playfully.

"I'm here aren't I?" his smile reaches all the way into his eyes.

And then he kisses her...

This is an old movie I saw - rewritten for Damon and Elena. Much of the dialogue and circumstances have been rewritten but credit to the screenwriters - all rights belong to them - for the story idea. In the movie, the male lead lost his medical license due to performing surgery under the influence of narcotics. There was no avalanche, the movie male painted birdhouses whereas Damon did chainsaw carvings. Those are just a few of the changes I made. I thought it would be fun to turn the idea into a DE story.

We'll see you again in a couple of weeks for the start of our #DEHolidays2019. We have a handful of one-shots we're working on to commemorate the season.

Let us know what you think Have a wonderful rest of your day and a fabulous weekend. Thank you all, you're the best.