N: A bit late, but better late than never I always thought. The last holiday fic for this year's A2A exchange on livejournal, hosted by the amazing Sar, who was kind enough to wait after me.

I have been writing this literally in the last 3 hours so no time for proofreading, I am sorry for any mistakes you might find and take fully responsibility for them. A bit more M-rated than the previous ones, fever makes me horny, lol.

Red and white

After she lit the candles, Elena took a step back to admire her handy work. The table looked absolutely perfect. In red and white, the colors of Christmas, and with the beautiful chandelier in the middle, it was just as she wanted. Three different sets of glasses were placed on each end of the table. The small ones were for Damon's favorite bourbon – it took her a while to find it in stores. The bigger ones were for the red wine – the sales man swore under compulsion that it was the best for beef-stake. And the long, slim ones were for the champagne that Damon was supposed to bring since, according to him, America did not have proper champagne.

The knifes and the spoons were in a red napkin, tight up with a silver band. On the right, the spoon and the entrée knife as well as the steak knife. On the left she put, the big fork and the small one and on top, the desert fork and tea spoon. She poured some water in the vase and put in one single sun-flower, placing it in the middle on the table besides the silver chandelier.

She decided to stick with the only types of food she could cook. She prepared stuffed eggs – with mushrooms and mayo and stuffed tomatoes – with eggplant salad – as entrees, followed by vegetable soup with crispy bread. As main plate she thought that there is no way to go wrong with beef steak with mushed potatoes and salad. With a little luck, she'd be able to cook Damon steak the way he wanted.

Elena let out a giggle at the fact that she was stressing out about a little dinner. It's been a long time since she felt so nervous. She couldn't find her place. Her hair seemed to get a personality of its own and refused to follow her instructions. Not to mention the fact that she changed her outfit five times in the past two hours.

Returning to her room, Elena opened her closet and stared at her wardrobe for a while. There was nothing in there that she actually wanted to wear for dinner with Damon. If Caroline and she would've been on speaking terms, she would've definitely considered snooping through her dresses. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted her sweet sixteen dress. It was a white, strapless dress. To spice it up a bit she cut one of her red, see-through scarfs and sewed it to the middle, telling it fall. She cut a little 'V' to show more of her breasts since she covered her legs. Instead of the complicated loop, she decided to put her hair up in a ponytail and curl just a few stripes of hair. As makeup, she went for smoky eyes, but in a more subtle way, in shades of white and silver; just a touch of peach in her cheeks and pale pink for her lips.

When she heard the door-bell, she jumped from the chair. "Calm down silly, it's just Damon," she mumbled to herself, but that didn't help.

Without using her vampire speed, she descended the stairs, took a deep breath and opened the door. The simple sight of him formed nodes in her throat, making it impossible to breath. If she didn't know any better, she might have confused her symptoms with a panic attack. Black on gray, simple, but perfect for him. His midnight hair was arranged in no particular way, looking kind of messy, in contrast with the perfection of his clothes. With a soft smirk on his lips, he was watching Elena with those mesmerizing eyes that she'd been unable to forget since the first time she saw them. In his hand was resting one single, perfect, white rose.

"Mary Christmas, Elena."

"Mary Christmas, Damon."

"It matches your dress," he whispered, handing her the flower.

"Tha…thank you," Elena answered shyly, taking the rose from him. "I'll put it in some water." She immediately disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Damon alone, still in the door-way. He made his way inside, closing the door behind him. A few questions were playing in his head. Was he really doing it? Dating at his age seemed, silly. But the smile on her face somehow made it all worth it. He knew how to attract, how to seduce, how to charm, how to satisfy, but did he still know how to court a woman?

"In here," he heard her yell from the kitchen and followed the sound of her voice. In the middle of the room, there was a, round table, looking like one of those perfectly arranged tables in movies. Every little detail on the table was in its place. She must've spent quite some time putting everything in order.

"You did all this for me?" he asked without actually meaning to. She raised her shoulders and smiled brightly. It's been a while since anyone did something for him. People just wouldn't jump to do nice things for Damon Salvatore and he was okay with that, but he couldn't help feeling all warm inside now that the woman he loved would take time to do that for him. "No pickles I suppose?" he joked as they both remembered their trip to Georgia.

"Actually, I have some in the fridge. Jeremy likes them."

"Good, cause I love pickles."

***DE***

Just as Elena was finishing with the first course, the phone started ringing. She placed the red napkin on the table and rushed to the phone.

"Matt?" Damon heard her ask a few seconds after she picked up the phone. "No, my house. He's with me, why?" Matt was talking too soft and Damon could only pick up words, but enough to understand Elena's answers. What he made out just before Elena hung up, was that something happened and Matt was ok, but it had to do with Stefan.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked as Elena made her way back into the kitchen.

"It's Stefan," she answered in a soft voice. "Jeremy told him about you and me. He went looking for you at the cabin a few hours ago. Matt and Caroline are trying to find him." there came a moment of complete silence. Damon stood up slowly, but remained beside the table.

"You want to go look for him?" Damon asked between his teeth.

"Don't you?"

"No," he answered immediately. "He's not exactly seventeen, Elena. He's been seventeen for over a hundred years; it's been a while since he needed a babysitter."

"You know what he's capable of, Damon!"

"I do, and if you think you can stop him if he's already there, you are delusional." They were no longer talking but yelling at each other.

"He is still your brother…"

"And what do you want me to say to him, Elena? If by some miracle we find him, what could I possibly say to him to make it better? I'm sorry I got the girl this time? I am not sorry, and he knows that. God, Elena by some miracle you actually picked me, you…you want to be with me and I'll be damned if I ever regret this. Now, if you regret this, you can go tell him that and take him back."

"I…" Elena could not find her words. Yes, she worried about Stefan, she still loved Stefan, not the type of love she had for Damon, but still.

"For Christ's sake, Elena; don't play this game! If you're having second thoughts, then by all means, please just go after him."

"No! It's Christmas night and I've been looking forward to spend it with you for days. I spent hours changing my clothes, because nothing I own seemed good enough for you. I did my hair ten times, because there is nothing you haven't seen before. And my make-up; I wanted to go a bit over the top, but then I would've looked like her. The thing is, Damon, I have always seen your brother more or less as a seventeen years old, but you…you're this 163 years old vampire that's seen all, done it all. You don't always agree with me," she laughed "Who am I kidding? You never agree with me and you argue with me and you're pushing me, making me see things differently." Elena covered her face in her hands. "I'm bubbling now," she mumbled.

"You're a fool," Damon said and Elena gave him a sharp stare. "Do you think I care what you wear or the way you do your hair? You're perfect when you wake up in the morning and you're perfect now. As for not agreeing with you, I'll never agree with your suicide missions. Yes, I push you because you need to be pushed you're a child Elena, and someone needs to tap your fingers if your wrong."

"Well, I'm not wearing any underwear now, is that wrong? Are you going to tap my fingers?" she asked, beating her lashes seductively. In two steps Damon was in front of her. He took another step and she backed away, he followed until her lower back hit the sink. Damon placed his arms on each side of her body.

"No, that's not wrong," he said. "But it's very dangerous," he whispered in her ear. "Especially if I'm around," he went on, blowing in her ear, sending chills down her spine. He placed a soft kiss just underneath her chin, brushing her cheek with his, forcing her head aside. After nibbling at her earlobe until muffed moans started coming out of Elena's mouth, he went lower, breathing, licking and softly biting the sensitive skin of her throat. "You want to drive me crazy?"

"Uh…?"

"That's why you put no underwear on and you cut your dress, not enough to be tasteless, but enough to let me get a pick…you want to drive me crazy."

"Yes, yes, I do, because I like the way you're touching me right now," Elena said in an aroused voice as Damon's hands were sliding over the outline of her breasts, through the material of her dress. She just wished she was already necked, to feel his touch on her skin. It was burning and itching, craving him; her whole body was ready for him.

Damon used his vampire speed to turn them around, this time, pushing Elena's back against the edge of the table. He grabbed the steak knife and Elena's eyes opened wide. "How much do you like this dress?" he asked.

"I'll get another one," she answered guessing his intentions.

"Good," he said placing the knife on her right leg, just a few inches underneath the dress. Elena could feel the blade, cold against her skin. Truth was she loved the dangerous feeling of that sharp blade so close to hurt her. Damon turned the knife a little in his hand and pushed it up, making a few inches cut. He threw the knife on the table and ripped her dress all the way to her hip. "Much better," he murmured. He used his left hand to push everything further on the table to make space. He grabbed Elena and placed her on the table making one of the glasses fall, but neither of them noticed.

Elena placed her left foot against Damon's chest, playfully keeping him at distance, pressing her heels into his skin. Damon took advantage to caress her thighs. Up and down, barely touching her with his fingertips until her leg started to tremble. As soon as his hands left her skin, his mouth took their place. Small, wet kisses underneath her kneecap…he could feel him get closer, but it was impossible for her to do anything about it. "Lay dawn," he murmured and she let her body fall on the straight surface. Soon Damon's slippery tongue was on her hips, her joints, her pubic bone: "Damon!" she yelled in pure bliss once his tongue finally flicked over her labia. Eight figures, rhombus figures and every other mathematical and geometrical figure, his tongue knew no limits. At first he was using just the tip of his tongue, his touches were soft and slow, but son, he was using his whole tongue, pushing it in, eating her up. Elena thought she might liquefy right there on the table in the middle of the kitchen.

"Push the dress over your breasts, you've covered them enough," Damon asked, this time, his voice grave and vibrating. Elena hesitated only for a second before rising her hands and doing as told, realising her full breasts out of the tight dress. "That's my girl."

Damon pulled her leg, bringing her ass on the edge. He bent over and started kissing each breasts, stopping for a few minutes on each of them to tease her nipples. Elena heard the buckle of his belt and bit her lip in anticipation. He pulled back a few inches to let his pants and boxers fall at his feet. He immediately stepped out of them and resumed his position between her legs. She could feel the tip of his erection pocking her skin, not in the right place yet. "Your hair," he said softly. "Let it down for me, please," he went on and Elena found it impossible to resist those bright blue eyes. She pulled out the elastic band, letting her hair fall in waves over her bare shoulders. Damon lost no time; he buried his hand in her brown silk pulling her into a deep kiss. Half way into the kiss, he started pushing himself inside of her.

Elena bit Damon's lip, because the sensation of having him inside was too much to hold in. She smelled the blood before she had a chance to taste it. In a split second, she pulled back just in time to see the two puncture wounds on his bottom lip. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"What are you sorry for, love? That's a good sign, means I'm doing a good job."

"You are…Damon…" Damon could tell she wanted to ask for something and she was being shy about it. "Could you…uhh…would you –"

"You want me to bite you?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

He smiled softly before lowering himself, burying his face in her neck. Elena let her head fall backwards, to allow him access. When his fangs finally pierced her skin, Elena's hands grabbed the edge of the table. His pace was going up as he was drinking her down. He retrieved his fangs only after they both reached oblivion. Damon helped Elena off the table as she was doing her best to cover herself up. She turned around letting out a fake sigh at what once was the perfect Christmas table. "Well you ruined my Christmas table Damon!"* she finally said.

"Me? You are the only that actually ripped off a piece of it," Damon said raising his hands into the air.

"Think you can get me in bed this time?" she asked.

"I'll do my best," he answered with a smirk; that sort of smirk that gave her butterflies.

N: That's all folks, don't forget to review, pretty please!

*_ phrase belongs to the author of the prompt.