Bet Me; Chapter 2; An Attempt at Civility.
A/N: Day 3 of 7. This chapter is the shortest chapter I've written for an AU/AH story. It was also the first chapter I'd written, that I didn't want to upload, LMAO. *Sigh*. Even now there's a twinge of dread in me. Hope you're enjoying the 7 days of Bet Me :)
Chapter 2: An Attempt at Civility
"We should talk," he said to her.
Elena didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to look at him, and she certainly didn't want to work with him. No doubt he wanted to apologize for prom night, or sweep it all under the rug, and she didn't want to hear it either way. She caught him peering through the back window of her car. Too late she realized what he'd seen; her back seat full of Chicago Sun papers.
"Are those…?"
"Don't ask," she snapped, and headed towards the doors of the office.
She was not going to tell him she stalked his work so she could find fault with it; a pitiful and pathetic obsession which might give him the wrong idea. She would have to find a new filing system for the backlog of papers on her back seat, like maybe the wastepaper basket, or her fireplace. She scanned her ID and thought very seriously about trying to keep Damon from coming up with her. No doubt Jensen wouldn't approve.
"We're very grateful, understand?"
Grateful her ass. He followed her up the stairs and into the office, where the lights were already on, the air conditioning was going, and fresh coffee was waiting. She said a silent thanks to Marta and Herb, the cleaners, and headed straight for the coffee pot. Her hands needed something to do, so they didn't find themselves wrapped around his throat.
"The Men's Room is that way," she told him. "I have no idea where you'll be sitting, so you'll have to ask Jensen when he comes in about ten minutes, and the kitchen is this way."
She parked her stuff at her desk on the way to the kitchen, including her jacket. She was aware of him behind her every step of the way.
"Mugs are in the cupboard to your right. Sugar, is on the bench. Milk is in the fridge."
"I know you're probably still mad at me, and with good reason," he said to her. "But I'm hoping you can put our past behind us, and be professional while we have to work together."
She took the coffee pot and poured coffee into the two mugs he'd put on the bench, but not before she seriously contemplated dumping the entire contents all over his head. Be professional, he'd said. She would be nothing but the consummate professional. She'd worked long and hard on this story, and Jensen would take her off the story the moment he suspected she couldn't cope with it - or with her new co-worker.
"You won't see anything but professionalism from me," she told him.
Damon could feel her anger underneath the surface, could see the tension in her rigid posture, and could hear the control in her voice. He'd learned over the years how to read people well, and right now she was making it clear as day she still hated his guts. Well, maybe that was fair, but as long as she could deal with it. He had a story to write.
"How long have you been working on this story?" he asked her
"Months," she said tersely. "You?"
"Since Friday," he admitted.
Elena bit her tongue. Just like that, he'd decided he wanted this story, and nothing had held him back. She, on the other hand, would still be trying to convince Jensen to let her write it if it wasn't for Damon wanting to snoop around. They were meant to be sharing research, but she would be the one with more to share. He would hardly have anything to offer her if he'd only just started looking at Von Gruber.
She walked back to her desk, and booted up her laptop. Damon followed her, and took a seat at the empty desk directly behind her. He put his laptop and his coffee down.
"Can I look at what you have so far?" he asked her.
She checked her immediate response, which was to say no. Instead she unlocked one of her drawers, pulled out a bulky manila folder, and handed it to him. His look of surprise at her research did little to make her feel better. He took it from her, turned around so his back was to her, and started flipping through it. Months - it had taken her months to compile all that, and she was handing it over to him so he could go back and write something for the Chicago Sun.
Damon was more than a little impressed at how thorough Elena had been, as well as how methodically and logically she worked. Considering how attached she was to some of her stories, he had expected things to be all over the place, but the interviews she'd taken, and the notes and clippings were all perfectly ordered. He didn't have the same depth to his research - yet.
"Do you have anything?" she asked him.
He could tell by the tone of her voice that she expected him to have little. He handed her the drive he'd backed up all his data onto. He may have only started on Friday, but the weekend held a lot of hours, even for someone who had been flying yesterday.
Elena searched through his information, and told herself she wasn't impressed by how much information he'd acquired within three days. There were at least two areas where he had more information than she did, and she hadn't even realized she had a gap.
"So?" he asked her.
"You've managed to achieve a lot in three days," she said stiffly.
Damon smirked as she handed it back to him. She was impressed, even if she wouldn't acknowledge it. It would be good to work with his old rival again. It would keep him on his toes. She'd kept up with his work too, judging by the stack of papers in her backseat. He didn't know why it pleased him so much that she'd kept tabs on him, but it did.
"You had a lot of information on the Lockwoods," he said to her. "In fact you interviewed them twice. Why?"
"I was planning the spring festival parade with Mrs Lockwood. When she came back from Von Gruber's retreat she was different."
"Different how?"
"She had forgotten things from the previous week's meeting. She kept blinking a lot, and when we played a sample of classical music she started dancing."
"Dancing to music? Now that's crazy."
Elena glared at him. "When the music stopped, she didn't even remember she'd been dancing, and she was alarmed to find that she was in the middle of town, planning a parade. She thought she was at home with Mr Lockwood."
"What was the song?"
Elena flicked through her folder. "Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21."
"Have you played that song for any of the other clients of Von Gruber you've interviewed?"
"Yes, and none of them had the same reaction Mrs Lockwood had."
Damon nodded. "Do you think Von Gruber uses different music for every couple?"
"I don't know."
"Have you tested out what happens when Mr Lockwood hears that music?"
Elena nodded. "He didn't have the same reaction. Actually, he didn't have any reaction."
"Did you play the music when he was in the same room as Mrs Lockwood, or when he was alone?"
"When he was alone. Why? Do you think he might have had a different reaction if they were together?"
"Maybe. I think it's worth finding out for sure. We should go there today."
She shook her head. "Jensen told me I was finished interviewing the Lockwoods."
"Then leave it to me," Damon told her confidently.
"Fine," Elena said to him, thinking Jensen would say no, anyway. It would be better if Damon heard it from the boss.
She got stuck into the article she was writing on the lack of funding for the fire department, and when Jensen came in, Damon went straight into his office. When he reappeared, Jensen walked out of the office with him, patting him on the back like he was his long lost son, and telling him how fantastic it was that he'd be writing for the Tribune for a few weeks. Damon seemed to be lapping it up.
Once the back slapping and mutual admiration had died down, Damon took the same seat he had before, so they were back to back when they were sitting down. She'd originally taken her desk because it was in a quiet corner of the office, and she didn't have to share space with someone. Now it looked like he'd settled into the corner with her, and she wasn't remotely happy about it.
"Elena," he said to her.
She turned around to look at him.
"All the bookings have been made for the retreat," he told her. "We'll be Mr and Mrs Reynolds, from Ohio, for the week," he told her, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, and Jensen said that it’s fine to go out to the Lockwood's this afternoon. He's going to give them a call first, but he was more than happy for us to talk to them again."
"Of course he is," Elena muttered, turning back to her computer.
"Do you have something to add?" Damon asked silkily.
"Not at all."
Thankfully Damon got straight down to work on whatever it was he'd been assigned to, and didn't talk to her again, which was good. She liked things quiet. At ten o'clock Jensen began to introduce Damon to the rest of the staff, and Melody Murphy stopped in front of Elena's desk with her coffee.
"Do you have dibs on the new guy?" she asked. "He's like really hot."
"No I don't have dibs," Elena told her colleague.
Melody was nice enough, apart from the fact that she wrote the gossip column and could sniff out any kind of romantic scandal a mile away. Seriously, the girl had a knack. Damon returned to his seat, and Melody's eyes strayed to him before she looked back at Elena.
"I saw you and Stefan through the window at the Marionette hotel on Saturday. You two looked cozy. I heard on the grapevine that he's thinking of moving back here permanently. Care to comment?"
Elena knew Melody had brought the topic up to make it perfectly clear Elena was in a relationship and therefore not available. She didn't realize, however, that Damon and Stefan were cousins who hadn't spoken in years and didn't particularly like each other. She didn't want to talk about one in front of the other. She doubted Stefan would want Damon knowing his business.
"Not right now," she said to Melody.
"Don't stop on my account," she heard from behind her.
Damon tried to block out the conversation happening behind him. It was obvious Elena didn't want to discuss her relationship with Stefan in front of him. Stefan must be serious about her to consider moving back home. He remembered Stefan and Elena had been friends in high school, but he they lacked compatibility, Damon thought suddenly. Not that it was any of his business. He tried to concentrate on his work, but the younger girl seemed intent on getting his attention.
"Hi, I'm Melody," she said to him.
"I remember. We were introduced what, like five minutes ago."
The twenty-three year old's face flushed bright pink, and she walked away quickly without saying another word.
"What?" he asked Elena.
"You didn't have to be rude."
"I don't tolerate stupidity, and Jensen literally just introduced us five minutes ago. A conversation that went along the lines of, ‘Damon, this is Melody; Melody this is Damon.’ Then we both said hi."
"I know you get a kick out humiliating a girl, but try and be nice to my colleagues. They're good people."
"And there it is," Damon said to her. This is exactly what Damon had wanted to avoid.
She turned back to her computer. "There what is?"
"Is this what you call nothing but professionalism? Because I have to say, I expected more from you Gilbert."
His attitude set Elena's teeth on edge, and she knew she couldn't respond and keep it civil.
"I think we should have it out, Gilbert," he said to her, "you and me. Tonight. Why don't you go ahead and get it out of your system? Yell at me a little. Hell, I'll even let you hit me."
"I have nothing to say to you," she told him.
"Judging from your comment, I doubt that. Come on, don't you want to tell me what an asshole I am?"
Yes she did, more than anything, but Elena knew if she started telling him what she thought, he would work out that she had had some kind of stupid crush on him in high school, and that his opinion of her had cut her to the quick. She didn't need him feeling sorry for her, and she certainly didn't need him being amused by the feelings she'd had for him either.
"I can't do this right now," she muttered.
It was moments like this she would go for a smoker's break if she smoked. Taking the bottled water off her desk, and her apple, she did something she never did; she took a morning tea break. Elena walked down to her car, and sat inside the vehicle. She flipped through her music, looking for something that suited her bad mood.
Elena listened to the song she had put on, twice, and then went back to the office, ready to try civility with Damon once again. She'd slipped before. She would have to be more careful. Jensen couldn't have any reason to give the story to Andie. Elena had worked too long and too hard on it.
Damon tapped his pen against his desk with agitation. Women in general could be over-emotional, illogical, and irrational, and that was when he hadn’t screwed them over. He'd known this was going to be difficult, but this was only day one, and she was already walking off. How were they supposed to get through this? And what about when they were away for a whole week together, pretending to be married? Von Gruber had to buy their charade or Damon would lose his chance to get the edge on the therapist.
He could try and talk Elena into quitting this story, but after seeing how much work she'd put into it, he knew she would never agree. He'd happily work with her if she could put prom night behind them, but it seemed she couldn't. He'd offered her the choice of venting and getting things off her chest, but she had made it clear she'd rather hold onto it. That left him with few options.
Jensen was practically bending over backwards to make him happy. If Damon told the boss that Elena wouldn't co-operate she'd be taken off the story. Could he do that to her? He already knew the answer to that. The story always came first. There was no room for the personal in journalism. If she was the journalist he thought she probably was, she would understand that. Damon needed someone he could work with, and at this moment he didn't think that person was Elena Gilbert.
He was just heading towards Jensen's office when she came back inside. Their eyes locked briefly, but he kept moving.
"What can I do for you Salvatore?" Jensen asked him, once Damon was seated in front of him.
"It's Elena Gilbert, Sir. I can't work with her."
Jensen looked a little put out by his comment, and Damon hoped he hadn't read the man wrong. He'd thought he'd had this guy eating out of the palm of his hand.
"Gilbert is our best female journalist."
Damon held his breath.
"But Andie Star is a close second. She hasn't had the months researching the story that Gilbert has had, but she's a quick study. I can ask her to step in if you'd prefer?"
"Thank you, Sir. I don't want to cause trouble, but Gilbert has made it clear she can't work with me under the circumstances."
"Under the circumstances?"
Damon sat back and tried for mildly embarrassed. "Gilbert and I went on a date once. It didn't end well."
Elena would probably have a conniption hearing him describe prom night that way, but she wasn't here, and he had to tell her boss something. Jensen gave him a sly dog smile. Sometimes there were perks to being a man, Damon thought. Women used their breasts to get a story sometimes. He was just using his gender to change something that wasn't working.
"Say no more," Jensen waved him out. "I'll talk to Star. Send in Gilbert, would you."
Damon hesitated for a split second, almost changing his mind, before walking out and finding Elena at her desk.
"Boss wants to see you," he told her.
She looked alarmed for a moment before she stood up and smoothed down her skirt; a nervous habit of hers he recognized from high school. She was already on her way to Jensen's office, when he called out to her.
"Elena!"
She turned around.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he said to her.
She looked confused momentarily. He didn't apologize much, but he hoped it sounded sincere, because he meant it. No doubt she'd be out for blood later, but he needed to do his job, and it was obvious she couldn't work with him. As realization dawned on her, he looked away. This wasn't personal, it was professional, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd receive a knife in the back at work.
It was a shame they wouldn't be able to play out their old rivalry, but he hoped Andie Star had the same level of commitment to her work that Elena did. He grabbed the manila folder from Elena's desk and started looking through the information again. After all, it wasn't like she was going to need it anymore. He packed up his laptop, and moved to another empty desk. She'd probably want her space back when she came out. He hoped for her sake that she could put this behind her and start working on her next story.
A/N: The response to this chapter on FF was like nothing I had/have ever seen before. If you're re-reading, and commenting, I'd love to hear if you hate Damon as much this time round as last time, LOL. Love to you all.