A/N Another potential missing scene, this time from when Stefan was locked in the cellar. There was so much potential with Damon and Elena and nothing happened so I wanted to fill in the blanks. Enjoy.

Over-rated

So Stefan was in the dungeon…basement…prison…slowly coming down from his blood high and going through standard withdrawal. Damon rolled his eyes. Idiot younger brothers. Meanwhile said younger brother's girlfriend was spending an unhealthy amount of time at the house, meaning that Damon was, heaven forbid, getting to know her. Always dangerous, especially when…but he stopped that thought.

"What do you want to do?" Elena sighed and dropped into her chair, glass of water in her hand, fire reflecting in her face. Damon rolled his head languidly to the right, cutting her a sideways glance.

"You mean you're not having fun," his voice dripped in sarcasm as he glanced back down at the glass of whisky in his hand, "just brooding…" He downed the glass and shot her a look.

Elena sighed and clasped her knees. "I mean…like…" she floundered and recovered. "What do you do?"

Damon smirked and Elena wished she hadn't asked.

"I'm not sure you want to be part of what I get up to."

There was a clear moment of silence and he could almost hear her rummaging in the far reaches of her brain for something…anything…

"Chess!" she announced, like it was the Holy Grail, "let's play chess."

"I never learnt," Damon muttered dismissively and shut his eyes, leaning back against the sofa. Elena gave him a half incredulous, half disgusted, look.

"You've had centuries and you never learnt chess?"

Damon shrugged. "I'm good at poker;" he grinned devilishly, "have to be if you want to play the strip version."

Elena diplomatically ignored this comment and moved the conversation on.

"Have you ever gone to College? What did you do there?"

"Oh I loved College." He opened ice blue eyes and smirked. "No real commitments, lots of cults and clubs just begging for a vampire member, with a little bit of compulsion to forget I'm a real one." He enjoyed the look of mingled fascination on Elena's face and watched it turn back to distaste as he added his last bit with a raise of his eyebrows, "and plenty of freshman girls just throwing themselves at me. So much choice of a menu."

Elena looked suddenly unconvinced. "You're just trying to scare me. I'm not your entertainment for this evening Damon."

He grinned and then looked faux innocent. "You said we should do something together."

Their eyes locked, hers frustrated, his amused, before she pressed her lips tightly together and broke contact.

"Fine," she threw herself back in her chair and crossed her arms. "We'll just sit here and 'brood' then." She stared off into the fire.

Damon continued to gaze at her for a long while, just looking…forever just to look. It had started with simple fascination but he was beginning to see her slowly, like opening his eyes, and it terrified him. He never should have pulled her from the car, taken her to Georgia, started to trust her. He certainly never should have danced with her. That had been the latest in a long line of mistakes and all he wanted was to do it again. He rolled his eyes with a resigned huff.

Elena sat with her chin in her hand stubbornly, but being stubborn was beginning to get really old.

"Look Damon," she turned to look at him but he was gone. "Damon?"

"Here Elena."

She moved out of the chair and peered into the back of the darkened room.

"What are you doing?" she asked almost nervously.

"Wait there!" the voice demanded. "Don't move."

A hiss of air passed her and she froze as crashes and bangs accompanied it and then the noise stopped.

Elena found herself staring across an empty stretch of floor at Damon standing waiting. Candles lit up the space cleared, all sitting on the furniture Damon had moved against the walls. The candlelight reflected off his hair and made the cool blue eyes dance. He was giving her a very serious, even look and her stomach did a small flip.

"What are you doing?" she repeated, ignoring the attraction that clamoured.

He smiled then, slow like silk, and bowed. Music struck up from somewhere and she jumped.

Damon straightened and smirked. "Elena, would you do me the honour of this dance?"

"You want to dance?" she said in bewilderment.

The vampire gave her an incredulous look.

"Yes…did the music give it away or was it my request just now?"

Elena continued to stare at him a moment longer.

"Stefan doesn't like to dance."

Damon rolled his eyes and stepped nearer. "No," he drew out, taking her hand very deliberately and drawing her closer, "but you do." Elena found her hand clasped in Damon's own, her other on his shoulder as he held her waist. "And I am not Stefan."

Elena found herself being led gracefully across the floor and she smiled, glancing down at her clothes. "I feel like I should be in a ball gown or something."

"You look beautiful Elena."

Her head shot up sharply, searching Damon's face for irony but he was earnest, completely serious, and looking at her like…she'd never seen before.

By the car accident she had seen concern, after the attack gratitude, at times admiration, and during the dance…he had looked at her like he'd just made some new revelation, or discovered a rare butterfly. He handled her now, as then, with a touch so gentle it seemed ridiculous that he had, and could, snap necks. That was a sobering thought.

They were close, very close, dancing to the old music like something out a black and white film, and she was suddenly overly aware of every place that they touched. His hand soft in her own, his shoulder strong under her fingers and the warmth seeping through the top at her waist. His eyes were captivating and she felt her own locking onto them as he led her across the floor. The way he was looking at her, she couldn't place it, but her heart sped up in response.

"I like this dance better," she managed to force out weakly, but it came out more of a whisper, "the near-touch is a bit over-rated."

Damon spun with her and smirked. The smirk reassured her.

"Never underestimate the near touch," he uttered in a confidential tone, moving his face closer to hers. He paused, stopped dancing and released her. "It can be…" he raised his eyebrows, dropped them and smirked, "…powerful." He stepped forward.

Bewildered Elena took a step back to maintain distance and her back hit the wall. She glanced at it in surprise and back to find Damon's face centimetres from her own. Elena froze in shock.

"Damon…" she breathed warningly.

The vampire smirked.

"Tantalising," he purred, emphasising the word, "isn't it?"

Elena realised that he wasn't actually touching her, that a very small barrier of air separated them and he had an arm planted on either side. Nearly touching. Her breath left her in a huff as she relaxed.

"Really Damon? Just to prove a point?"

The vampire rolled his eyes.

"Really Elena?" he mimicked and leaned a little bit closer. "Obviously. Points are made to be proven."

She gazed levelly into the sharp blue eyes and gave him an unimpressed look.

"Has it been made yet?"

Damon sighed in mock exasperation.

"Give it a minute. I hear patience is a virtue."

Elena sighed and relaxed back against the wall.

"Tell me when it's been a minute."

Damon smiled and then let it fade as he fixed her with his serious gaze, almost like he was trying to compel her. Elena levelled her own faintly amused one back.

Silence fell. Her mind wandered. It absorbed his features, committed them to memory; examined the curve of his jaw, the individual wisps of hair dripping into the blue pools that shone like liquid. Dipped lower to his lips, wondered what they would feel like. Stopping that thought. Back to the eyes. They smouldered. Her heart started to pound…dropped to his lips.

"So," he whispered softly, "what are you thinking?"

He had been proving a point that was all. Just proving a point about the effectiveness of the near-touch…but at his question she tore her eyes back to his own and his insides lurched.

Her gaze was heated and flicked to his lips before being dragged rebelliously back to his eyes. Damon was captivated, completely disarmed and at her mercy. She wanted to kiss him. The revelation made his head swim.

"Damon," it came out more like a croak, "I should…" she took a shuddering breath, "…check on Stefan and go to bed."

If he kissed her she wouldn't resist, he could see it in her face, but…

He closed the gap till it was minute and his breath ghosted her lips.

"Point made?" he forced a smirk.

She half-glared. "Yes."

In a fluid motion he was away from her and pouring more whiskey.

"So what you're saying is I'm right?" he called over his shoulder.

Elena shook her head at her own stupidity for thinking the vampire liked her just now. What a jerk.

"Good night Damon," she replied firmly and left the room.

The black-haired vampire stopped what he was doing and gazed after her, turning the last few minutes over in his head.

"I'm the idiot," he muttered and downed the full glass.