AN: This is set right after 2.17 ended. It's a bit cheesy/fluffy, I know, and it might turn into a multi-fic, possibly. Reviews/feedback always appreciated!

It feels odd to be clinking glasses with Damon, toasting with him and smiling and planning. Well, the planning part wasn't new- even at their worst, they've always managed to work together somehow- but this sense of camaraderie is new. For once they're not really on their guard with each other, not plotting how to one-up or deceive the other. It almost feels, to Stefan, like old times, before Katherine and 1864 and everything. It's enough to make him feel hopeful.

Well, that, and their Secret Weapon and that Elena is moving in with him. Those things are pretty good too- especially the latter. It's almost enough to erase the bad parts of the day- almost, but not quite. He's still not really able to get over that Elena had been "kidnapped" yet again, but the solution to that, as always, is simply hugging her closer at night, wrapping his arms tightly around her body and crushing her against him.

Upstairs he waits for Elena to finish with John, wondering if he should go down there to referee or something. He'd probably just wind up punching John in the face, though, or throwing him out of the house through a window. This is a conversation that Elena needs to have with John on her own, he knows that, but he has to fight not to listen to them, even in his room, even with the door closed. Restlessly he fingers the spines of his journals, wonders how Caroline's doing with the whole Matt problem. She'd left a message on Elena's phone, sounding more despondent and down than Stefan has ever heard her, and Elena had said the same thing.

Arms suddenly wrap around him and he feels Elena pressing her face against his back. "Hey," he whispers and turns around to look at her still tearstained face. "You all right?"

"Not really," she sighed and kissed him, letting her lips linger on his. Then she buried her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his clothes, his body, trying to move as close to him as possible. "Is it a bad thing that I told him to stay? Because I don't like him, I still don't trust him, he's a horrible person, and I still told him to stay. I think I must be insane."

"Or you just try really hard to see the good in everyone," Stefan murmured into her ear, gently massaging her back.

Her voice against his chest sounds muffled, but he can still make out the roughness of her tone, the tears she's trying to fight back. "Am I responsible? Is Isobel dead- really dead- because of me? Because-" Elena broke away from him, her eyes wild and her body shaking, "then I'm the reason why three out of my four parents are dead. Is that some kind of record?"

"Baby," he tries to calm her fluttering hands, still her body. "Baby, you're not-"

"It's a good thing that John does have that ring because he'd definitely be dead otherwise, and then I'd have four dead parents all dead because of me."

"Elena," he hugs her close. "Breathe, love, breathe, it's okay," he coaxes her, whispering to her while she cries, slowly calming in his arms. He grasps some of her hair and rubs her hip all the while reassuring her, telling her that everything was all right even though it's really not.

After a moment she looks up at him. "Sorry. I'm just... frazzled."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he tells her and firmly kisses her.

"I would say I need therapy, but they'd probably lock me in a hospital or something," she tries to laugh. A sad smile is all she can manage. Stefan kisses her forehead, rocks back and forth slightly, letting Elena decide what to do next. Silently, she pulls him to the bathroom, turns the taps on the bath. Lately it's almost become a ritual for them, to unwind in the bath or shower. Well, it's either unwind or sex, usually both.

"What was Damon cackling about?" Elena asks as she steps into the water, wincing first at the heat and then relaxing. "I passed him on the stairs and he looked unbelievably pleased with himself."

"Ah," Stefan raised an eyebrow. "We have a secret weapon."

"Um, yay?"

"No, seriously, this is progress, for once. Since Katherine didn't know Bonnie got her powers back, Isobel doesn't know, so Klaus doesn't know, which makes Bonnie-"

"A secret weapon," Elena smiles, but a look of worry came across her eyes. "I just hope... well, I hope whatever happens she's okay."

"She will be. You will be."

Elena glanced at him, slid completely underneath the water for a moment and quickly reemerged, rubbing the water away from her eyes. "So out of all the things we accomplished today, we now have a secret weapon and I own a house. Great."

"Not just any house."

"Please don't lecture me about architecture again. I don't think I could take it."

"I wasn't lecturing, I was-"

"Pontificating? Elaborating? Trying to put me to sleep-hey!" Elena laughingly protested as Stefan splashed her. Quickly, she set a small wave back at him, then ended up launching herself at him and pressing against him. Water splashed over the side of the tub, pooling on the floor, and they both laughed.

"If this is my house now, can I redecorate?"

"Absolutely."

Elena half suspects he was just saying that because of where her hands were strategically placed. "Even if I wanted to paint...oh, I don't know, the den bright green and hang posters of cats or something all over the place?"

Stefan's finding it kind of hard to concentrate on her words. "Sure, babe, whatever you want."

"We could put in a pool or skating rink. Maybe a dance hall."

By now he's running his hands down her body, placing lingering kisses on her neck. "Sounds good."

Stefan stretched out on the bed, lazily watched Elena pull her hair back into a ponytail. It's late, they should be getting to sleep so they can actually get up at a marginally respectable hour; although, come to think of it, he's not even positively sure what day it is, whether they have school or not, but regardless, Elena needs to sleep. After the stunt pulled by Katherine, he's pretty sure sleep is out of the question for him. Not that he needs it, really.

Yawning, Elena slowly slides underneath the covers, curls her feet around his. "I'm not sure I want to sleep," she murmured, looking up at him.

Silently, he props himself up on one arm, caresses her cheek.

"I- I used to have these dreams about my parents, and the accident. I don't want to have these dreams now," she leaves unspoken, now featuring Flaming Isobel Fleming. Sighing softly, she lay down and pulled Stefan's arm around her, covering her body like a blanket.

"I'll be here all night," he said softly, not sure how to reassure her. "If you do dream, I'll wake you, tell you stories or jokes or sing or just make love to you, I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

A dreamy smile flickered over her face. "I love you."

"I love you," he whispers and, because he hasn't kissed her enough today, kisses her again. She pushed them so she lay on top of him, burying her hands in his hair.

"Would you really sing?" she whispers later, when the sweat's cooling on their bodies and the sheets are pooled somewhere around their feet. He rubs her back, listens to her heartbeat.

"I would, although I'm pretty sure you would get nightmares from it."

"It's the thought that counts."

"That's what I thought."

"Would you dance?" Elena asked, a teasing note in her voice.

"For you? I'd do anything," he replies as he touches her face, listening to her breathing becoming deeper and her voice becoming sleepier.

"Anything...I like the sound of that," she said as she re-nestled herself around his body, her eyes fluttering closed.

Stefan realizes she's fallen asleep, continues to stroke her back, hoping she'll have a peaceful sleep and not be bothered by dreams, ready to comfort her or make her laugh or smile or whatever she needs. He knows she would do the same for him, she's done the same for him- thinking of the night by the river when he tried to kill himself, how she talked to him and caressed him, convinced him to go back to the house. How he spent the rest of the night huddled in her embrace, apologizing over and over and how she managed to get him to sleep, her hands gently massaging him and relaxing him.

He listens to her breathe, and thinks he could easily spend the rest of his life like this.