Disclaimer:I own nothing. Despite what I may own in my dreams.

A/N:I have no idea where this came from. I have not written fan fiction in a long time and this is my first ever attempt at writing for Vampire Diaries. I will forewarn you that the characterization is probably off for both Damon & Elena but this is what my muse gave me to work with. Enjoy!

I had a moment - just a moment - where I thought about Stefan. I promised Damon that we would let him go and I have - honestly I have. Now when I think of Stefan all I can see if the person that betrayed me; the person that betrayed us. I found a picture of Stefan and I while cleaning out my closet. I thought I had gotten rid of everything; I guess not. The funny thing is that I looked at the picture and I can't remember the last happy memory I have of Stefan. I've come to realize that Stefan has a lot more demons than I ever could have imagined. I would have never guessed that after everything we went through that its Damon here with me instead of him. I would have never guessed that Damon would be the constant in my life - never. He always chooses me - always. It's been difficult to process - the feelings Damon has for me and the ones I have for him - but I have. We have been spending a lot time together. People are asking questions about us. Alaric. Jeremy. Caroline. Bonnie. They all want to know what the deal is with Damon and I. How can I answer that? How do you even begin to define a relationship that has never had a clear definition?

"Elena." It startles me a bit and I jump slightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay Ric. What's up?" I close my journal and place it on my pillow.

"Listen, I probably shouldn't be telling you this but despite the fact that Damon is a dick - he should have someone besides me acknowledge that it's his birthday."

"It's his birthday? How did…"

"We drink. We talk. Important dates like birthdays occasionally come up."

"What do you even get a vampire for their birthday? He has everything he could ever want."

Alaric does not say what we are both thinking. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes. "There is an unopened bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. I tried to give it to him and that went nowhere so try that."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he says before turning to leave my doorway.

I respect Alaric. He did not have to stick around after Jenna died. He has no obligations to fulfill when it comes to Jeremy and me; but he stayed. He looks out for us and it's nice to have someone doing that while they are fully aware of the supernatural around us. In his own way, he just wants better for us. It's probably why he makes no secret about not being on board with anything that involves Damon and I spending more time alone together. He has told Damon on several occasions to take a beat from whatever this thing is going on between him and me. But despite his concerns, he still does things like this; telling me it's his birthday. Damon and I tend to ignore his concerns. Not because we don't care about what Alaric thinks but the truth is we don't care about what anyone thinks about us. We both know what we are doing – well at least I like to hope we do.

I tuck my journal under my mattress – I know cliché but really if anyone wants to read it they won't stop until they find it. I'll just save them the trouble and keep it in a relatively open place. I don't like the idea of people going through my things. I take the few steps from my bed to my dresser to give myself a look over. Immediately I hate everything about myself. My hair is too straight. My clothes are too plain. My make-up isn't right. Ugh. Why do I even care? It's just Damon. He has seen me in worse than jeans and a tee shirt but it's his birthday. Even if there is no party, I find myself wanting to look special for him.

I walk over to my closet hoping that I'll find something I think is special enough to wear. As I move the hangers holding a small variety of dresses, blouses, and jeans, I find myself wishing I had more clothes. Finally, I come across a purple top I forgot I bought. I pull the garment out and examine it closely. This is it. The purple lace over black with a sweetheart neckline but its sleeveless; not a normal choice for February weather but I've already decided that this is it. I place the top on the bed and go back to the closet to pick out the rest of my ensemble. After a few moments I find a pair of dark denim skinny jeans, my black leather jacket, and my black heeled ankle boots.

I lay everything out on the bed and I wonder if maybe this is too much like something Katherine would wear. Of course Katherine would wear this – it's sexy and a little dangerous. I try really hard not to think about Katherine but it's hard not to think about how I compare to her. Damon always tells me that there is no comparison because Katherine is an evil, cowardly bitch and that makes her a hideous person. It doesn't stop me from thinking that I'm too plain of a girl for anyone to fuss over; especially a 168 year old vampire.

Glancing over at the clock, I see that it's already 5:00. On any other day I would already be at the boarding house but considering today has been sort of strange all around I'm not surprised I've lost most of the day. Between cleaning out my closet for the first time in months and then the picture which lead to the journal then Alaric – it all blends time together. And now I know why Damon hasn't called to check up on my yet today – he's trying to avoid me on his birthday. I make it my personal goal to be out of my house by 6:30 – more than enough time to shower and get ready.

An hour later and I'm officially ready to finish getting ready. My hair is dried and straightened, my make-up has been applied and I'm this close to being out the door. I pad across the short distance from the bathroom to my dresser. I pull a bra and panties out of my top drawer and quickly pull them on. It takes a minute before I realize I've chosen black lace. Caroline once told me that a woman only wears black lace undergarments when they are planning on having sex. So not my intention; despite the fact it's been months for me. This is Damon. I panic and open the drawer again. I starting pulling out a matching red set instead but then I remember Damon pulling these out of my drawer when we were going to Chicago. Ugh this is a no win situation. I stick with the black; no one else is going to be seeing my bra and panties anyway. Who cares what Caroline says about black lace and sex – it's only a theory; not a scientific fact. And this is Damon and me – it's not a big deal. We're just friends.

We're just friends. It's my new mantra. I keep repeating it as I get dressed. I'm not trying to convince myself of anything. I know Damon & I are just friends. It's just sometimes we have these moments where… never mind. I can't think about this right now. I pull on the leather jacket, pull my hair out from underneath the collar, and turn to the mirror. I look over my appearance in great detail – it's still too Katherine for me. Quickly I tug off the leather jacket, go the closet, and choose a black blazer instead. I check myself one more time – this is more me; a little sexy but mostly just plain me with the straight hair, subtle make-up, and no leather. I want Damon to recognize me when I walk through the door – not think of Katherine.

"You look nice," a familiar voice comments from the hall.

"Thanks Jer," I reply as he leans his body against the door frame.

"Going to Damon's?" It comes out less as a question and more as an accusation. Jeremy isn't fond of Damon and I spending time together either but he tends to be less judgmental than Alaric. I think that's in large part because I don't judge him for the choices he made with Bonnie and Anna and Vicky. He has no room to judge for my choices. And Damon is my friend. We aren't dating. We're just friends.

"Yes I am," I say grabbing my wristlet and keys from my nightstand. "I don't need permission to go there."

"Not saying you did Elena," he says as he moves aside to let me through. I head down the stairs and he follows. "I'm just wondering why you've been spending so much time with him lately."

"I don't see him that much," I remark as I make my way to the kitchen.

I can hear his footsteps echoing mine as he follows me into the kitchen. "Elena, you are there every day."

"I was there every day before too," I spot the bottle of whiskey on the counter and reach for its neck.

"Yeah, when Stefan was there." And there it was. Blunt. To the point. Out in the open. Here I was thinking Jeremy wasn't going to be judgmental and here he stands before me judging away.

"I'm not having the conversation with you Jer," I secure the bottle in my hand and head for the door. "It's not a good time."

"When is a good time then?" He's still following me. Why tonight of all nights does he decides he wants to have this conversation with me. I'm already on the porch and he keeps talking. "Because I think you're in way over your head with Damon." I stop and turn to him.

"Okay Jeremy, I'm going to say this once and then I want you to drop this." I take a step towards my brother to make sure he hears every word I'm about to say. "Damon and I are friends. I'll even say he's my best friend."

"Elena,"

"No talking." I knew he was going to try to interrupt but I can't do this anymore. I'm running late and really I'm over this. "I'm done having this same conversation with you and Alaric and Bonnie and Caroline. I'm done explaining why I'm hanging out with Damon all the time. I'm done. If you all have a problem with it, that's your problem to deal with not mine. Now I'm late meeting Damon. Are we done here?"

Jeremy just stands there and nods. "I get it," are the only words that escape his mouth as he steps backwards into the house and closes the door. I stand there for a moment feeling liberated; free. There have been so many times I've wanted to tell everyone to back off and stop asking. I feel bad that it had to be Jeremy first but it had to be someone. Even though he says he gets it, he doesn't. No one gets it because if they did they wouldn't keep asking me the same questions over and over again. Shake it off, Elena. I tell myself and I climb into my car. In less than 20 minutes I'll be at the boarding house; my safe place, my sanctuary.

It's my birthday. There is a reason why I want to be alone. I hate my birthday. And who in their right mind would want to celebrate being 168 years old with no end in sight. Well with Klaus still lurking around and Stefan gone; this could very well be the last one I ever have to suffer through.

I've been sitting in the living room since noon just drinking and watching the fire. Thinking about… well everything. Elena. Stefan. Klaus. Hybrids. And even sometimes Katherine. But I digress; nothing has changed in the last couple moments. Well that's not entirely true. Elena has given up on bringing Stefan home and for the most part I have too. Just because I gave up on Stefan doesn't mean I don't want him to come back someday. He's a dick but we are stuck together for an eternity; eventually he'll come back. He'll stop being an insufferable martyr and I'll kick his ass until he stops being such a douche.

I take another hard mouthful of the dark liquid and realize it's time for another bottle. Ric stopped over a couple hours ago to make sure I wasn't drowning in a bottle of whiskey. He was too late. It's not that I don't want to celebrate – it's just that it gets old. I keep getting older but I don't age – it's not something you really want to brag about when you still look 21 – it'll get you some nasty looks; especially from women. As I search the cabinet, I choose a bottle of bourbon. It's usually not advisable to switch between hard liquors but I say bring it on. I don't want to be able to stand.

As I take a taste from the bottle, I hear the ignition of a car turn off and I know who it is. I've come to recognize the sound of her car and on any other day it is a relief to know that she's finally here after not seeing her all day. I should have expected her to show up but does it make me a dick for not wanting to see her today. Probably but hey that's me. Damon Salvatore. Dick is usually my middle name. Or if you ask Bonnie or Caroline – it's my first name.

I can hear the click of her heels against the gravel as I move back to my spot on the couch. No need to pretend I've been doing anything productive today. The footsteps stop and I can hear her breathing on the outside of the door. She sounds nervous. I know creepy, how can I tell that from her breathing pattern? I'm a vampire. And I know Elena better than anyone. She's my friend.

I take another drink and adjust myself on the couch. She'll be in when she's ready though I have no idea what's she is waiting for. She stays here at least three nights a week; the other nights I try to spend at hers. It's what works for us. It has nothing to do with sex – that's not what this is about. We're just friends. It started as a protection routine. Stefan managed to piss off Klaus by stealing his brothers and sisters. Klaus threatened to kill everyone Stefan ever met and from there Elena and I started spending our nights together.

At the moment, it's been pretty much hybrid free in Mystic Falls. Klaus got some sort of lead about where Stefan has been keeping his family and took off after him. He leaves every couple of weeks long enough for us to have some sense of normalcy but in reality, it's only temporary. Klaus has only kept Elena alive because he needs her to build his undead hybrid army. And for some reason he keeps me alive; probably because I'd rather die than see any harm come to Elena. I've learned my lesson about trying to force a choice on her – instead I'm all for going down in a blaze of glory to keep her safe.

I finally hear the door knob turn and I wait for her to find me. I hear heels click along the floor as she moves the door back to its closed position. I don't even look up at her as she stops on the steps leading into the living room. "Come to watch me drown in my sorrows?" I take another drink before she can answer.

"I came to join the party," she comments as her heels move closer to the couch. She stops just short of being within my immediate reach. "I even bought you another bottle." I can hear the liquid move as she shakes the bottle over my head.

"Are you trying to re-gift me? I have enough," I say shaking the half bottle of bourbon back at her. "I've been at this since lunch and have a whole cabinet to get through."

I turn my head to look at the annoyed face she is undoubtedly making at me. My breath gets caught as I take her in. She is gorgeous everyday but tonight – she looks exquisite. My eyes travel from her black heeled ankle boots up her legs in those dark denim jeans to the black blazer she wears. I notice the top underneath is new. Her clothes are hugging her curves in all the right places. Oh Damon, I think to myself, your drunk and this could turn out to be trouble. I finally move my gaze to her face. Her chocolate browns meet with my intense stare and I have no words. We're just friends, I manage to tell myself.

"What? Is there something on my face?" She asks as she starts touching her face with her hands.

I place the bottle of bourbon down on the floor before standing to meet her. I reach my hands up to grab hers, moving them from her face down to rest linked between us. "You look incredible."

She releases the grasp and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah well you look like you've had a lot better days," she jokes as she moves towards the fireplace.

"Yeah well," I rub my left hand through my hair and the other I rest on my hip. I'm not the one who gets tongue tied. I have a lot of great one-liners. But here I am with a perfect opening to say something that's trademark Damon and nothing comes out. I'm choking here. We're just friends, I repeat.

"You okay?" She asks without turning back towards me. She has both hands stretched out to take in the warmth of flames. It's a good thing she's not looking at me right now. I feel like a tool. Shake it off, Salvatore.

Speak. "Cool as a cucumber." She chuckles as I reach down for the bottle of bourbon.

"So," she says turning to me. I take a swig of the bottle as I raise my eyebrows at her; encouraging her to continue. She tucks her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, "I guess a happy…"

"Nope, we aren't doing this." I take another drink and sit down on the couch.

"Damon."

"Elena."

"Okay," she concedes as she sits down on the floor at my feet. "I'll pretend that this isn't a day where we should be having a cake and wearing party hats…"

"Since when was there ever going to be party hats?" I ask as I lean towards her.

"Seriously?" She asks as I take another drink of the bourbon. "If Caroline knew there was a chance she could throw another party here… let's just say you should be glad I was alone when Ric told me."

"Touché. Vampire Barbie does like to throw a party," I agree as a small smirk spreads across her face. I love seeing her smile. "So what now?"

"We drink," she says as she grabs the bottle out of my hands and brings the mouth to her lips. She lifts the bottle up and takes a small sip. Her faces crunches as the liquid moves down her throat; it burns as it moves through her but she doesn't complain. She looks incredible tonight. I don't know what it is but it's like I'm seeing her for the first time again. I'm putting up my best Damon bravado but the reality is she is making me nervous. The idea of us drinking together… on my birthday, while she looks like this… it's a really bad plan. But I digress – I'm a masochist.

"Well you better stick to your own bottle, Champ." I say as I grab the bourbon back out of her grasp. "The bourbon is mine," I state with a smirk on my face.

"Fair enough," she smiles back at me before she reaches behind her to retrieve the bottle of whiskey she brought. She takes the bottle in her lap and twists off the top. She grabs the neck of the bottle and brings the brim to her lips. She takes a hard gulp before setting it down in her lap. "I like the whiskey better anyways."

"To a night we'll never remember," I decide to toast as I raise the bottle of bourbon to her. She takes the bottle of her whiskey and gently touches it to the neck of mine. The back of our hands brush against each other; every fiber of my being is on fire. My eyes meet hers and I know she felt it too.

"And to the moments we'll never forget." We both raise the bottles to our lips and intake a long, hard taste. I'll never say it to Elena but I am terrified of where this will go. We're just friends, I tell myself one more time as we both take another drink from our bottles.

Read & Review!

There is nothing better than getting a review - even if its bad. It helps me grow as a writer & helps progress the story. At the moment the plan is 3 chapters total - we'll see how this is received and go from there.