AN: So I really shouldn't be starting another story when my last one has been sitting in limbo for months, but this has been bugging me since the end of the second season and I figured it was bout time it got out. If I get no response on this then maybe I won't feel the need to continue, but we'll see.

So basically I got tired of watching Damon get the raw end of the deal over and over, so this is how I remedy that in my own head. It starts right in the middle of the conversation Damon and Elena have when they first meet. Reviews are more than welcome, thanks!


Prologue

"That's not true, you want what everyone wants."

"What? Mysterious stranger who has all the answers." Elena asked with a hint of snark. She couldn't believe she was actually standing out here in the dark talking about her love life with a man she just met.

"Well, let's just say I've been around a long time, I've learned a few things." He said squinting at her.

"So, Damon, tell me, what is it that I want?"

Stepping into her personal space he tilts his head down to her and replies in all sincerity, "You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure, and even a little danger." She's captivated by him, by the truth of his words, it takes a second for her to pull herself together enough to continue the banter.

"So what do you want?" But before he can answer they're distracted by the sound of jogging footsteps not far from where they stand. As they look toward the sound a girl around Elena's age emerges from around the bend in the road.

"Elena, there you are, Matt said you took off this way. I'm about to head out, did you want a ride?" She asks coming to a stop next to Elena. Intrigued, though slightly annoyed at the interruption, Damon gives her a slow once over from head to toe and back again. Gray canvas boots, tops folded down, black matchstick jeans, white see-through lace shirt over a plain white camisole, and a cropped black leather jacket, her hair twisted up into a messy bun held together with two polished sticks. By the look of her, she was someone he could have a little fun with before he drained her. But when his eyes finally travel back to her face he realizes that, though she was speaking to Elena, her coal-rimmed, honey brown eyes were watching him. And something in them seemed to speak of kindred spirits - if Damon were to believe in nonsense like that. "Sorry," she said after a moment, looking between Damon and Elena, "am I interrupting something?"

"No," Elena was all smiles and quick to reassure her, "we were just talking. And, no, I don't need a ride, Mom and Dad are on -" a car horn had her stopping short and turning to look behind her. "Thats them now. I should go." she said apologetically turning back to the others.

"To answer your question," Damon said, stopping Elena before she could fully turn away and regaining her attention. "I want you to get everything you're looking for, but right now I want you to forget this happened. Can't have people knowing I'm in town yet. Good night, Elena." The car horn sounded again and, dazedly, Elena turned and walked away.

Once she was safely out of ear shot Damon turned back to the other girl still standing there, fully expecting her to be confused and quite possibly frightened. But to his surprise, he found her smirking at him.

"You can put the crazy eyes away now, that won't work on me." She said shaking her head slightly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." He feigned bewilderment. The look he received in response was anything but believing. "But let's say I did know what you meant, why, exactly would my charms not work on you?"

"Well, I could tell you its because I know better than to let a pretty face fool me, but we both know you're more than that." She said, tilting her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest and popping a hip out. He gave her a low chuckle in response.

"That is very true."

"But," she sighed, "the truth is I've got vervain on me." That caught his attention, and had him straightening up from the slouch he had adopted to feign casualty.

"Hypothetically speaking," he grounded out, "if I had any interest in such herbs, I would tell you that it is impossible for you to have any at this moment. Vervain hasn't grown here in over a hundred years." But now that she had mentioned it, he could just barely make out the scent of it on her. It was excruciatingly faint, but it was there, and it was enough to inhibit his compulsion.

"I should probably introduce myself. I'm Charlotte. Charlotte Giblert-Forbes," She was doing her best to keep her excitement in check, but she couldn't believe she was actually face to face with him. "but everyone calls me Charlie. And, if I'm not mistaken, you're Damon Salvatore." Surprise flittered across his features for a split second before he regained control, but it was long enough to for Charlie to notice.

"You look a little young to be on the Founder's Council. Vervain or no vervain, I could still kill you where you stand." To be fair, the only reason he hadn't killed her the moment Elena walked away was because something in her eyes had struck him as familiar. The fact that she inexplicably seemed to know not only what, but who he was just bought her another few minutes to live.

"Oh, I'm not on the council, they have no idea I know the real history of this place. But, Gilbert-Forbes," she said, pointing a finger at herself, "I have access to an unbelievable number of journals from two founding families and plus a few heirlooms I inherited, including the vervain."

"Again, I'm not killing you because...?" His patience was wearing thin. He had come out here to feed, how had he gotten drug into this inane conversation with the poster child for the Mystic Falls Incest Association?

"Because I'm not like the rest of this closed minded little town, and whatever your reasons for coming back here, I can help." He was taken aback at her offer, that much was obvious, Gilberts were notorious vampire haters after all. But Charlie was counting it as a win that she was still standing in front of him, instead of dead on the side of the road.

Damon took a slow step toward her, but before he could respond they were interrupted by shouts coming from beyond the trees where the party was still taking place. "Charlie!" a whiney female voice floated to them. "Charlotte Forbes, if you left me here I'm telling Mom!"

"Insufferable," Charlie muttered hanging her head. When she looked up again he was in her personal space and smirking at her. "Listen, I can explain everything; why I know who you are, how I can be of use, why you shouldn't kill me and get on with your life. But do you mind if we do it somewhere else, I really need to get out of here before she drunkenly stumbles her way out here and finds me."

"Sister?" he asked with what seemed genuine curiosity.

"Obnoxious cousin," she grumbled, and then under breath, "who can find her own way home." She closed her eyes for a second and Damon could literally see her shake off her annoyance. "There's a bar not far from here, a run down place on the outskirts of town, full of people no one would miss. If you follow me there I'll explain everything and then you can decide whether I get to live or not."

"Fair enough." She was attractive enough, he could use her for information and a little entertainment then dispose of her later.