Hi everyone :)

This is my first ever fanfiction, so I would really appreciate it if you could read and review to let me know what you think and suggestions are definitely appreciated!

I really hope that you enjoy reading this chapter, and if all goes well I hope to update soon

PS I am from England, so sorry if my spellings include too many 'U's or if I use any words or phrases that wouldn't typically be said by an American character ;)

xox

This fic has also been posted on ao3 under the same username

"Hey, Amy? It's 11 o'clock so I'm gonna take off- I promised Caroline and Elena I'd be at the Gilbert's house an hour ago so I'm most likely in a world of trouble- any chance you can lock up?"

The redhead looked up from the table she was cleaning, smiling "Yeah, Matt, that's fine! I'm surprised we're open this late anyway- everyone usually clears off before ten." She shrugged, "but whatever, I'll just close up once these two guys have gone" she turned to fix her emerald eyes towards the other end of the bar where the men were sitting. She'd picked up their names from the whispers of other patrons- Damon Salvatore and Alaric Saltzman- the latter she knew to be the history teacher at the high school, but Damon? He was a mystery.

"Thanks, Amy- you're a lifesaver!" Matt called to her, shoving his jacket over his shoulders and half-running out of The Grill.

"Don't speak too soon- you've yet to face the wrath of Caroline Forbes!" she jokingly called after him. Matt turned back towards her with a final grin, before disappearing into the night. Amy returned the smile as she went back to her task of scrubbing the red wine stain off the oak table before it absorbed and permanently marred the polished surface.

She heard the scrape of a bar stool across the floor and flicked her eyes up to see Alaric getting up from his seat, his empty glass on the bar, patting the shoulder of his companion as a parting gesture before walking towards the exit. He nodded goodbye to Amy, and she smiled briefly in return as he left through the same door as Matt had just minutes before.

Amy stood back to admire her handiwork on the table. It was better than before but it seemed as though the the surface would be left with blood-red stain after all. Hating the untidy appearance of having empty glasses left on the bar (it was a borderline OCD obsession of her's), Amy waltzed over towards the bar, dumping her ruined cloth in the bin on the way past and ducked underneath the lift-up panel of the bar, rather than bothering to pick it up. Damon was still sitting there, his glass still full from when she poured his last bourbon over half an hour ago. Amy quickly stuck Alaric's glass in the washer and turned her attention to the last customer of the evening.

"Are you going to drink that, or can I?" she asked, smiling at him.

Damon lifted his gaze from the glass to meet her eyes, "Threatening to take away a man's alcohol could get you in serious trouble, young lady" he challenged her, a hint of menace in his glare.

"Ooh, you sound so serious." she quipped back, mockingly. "Guess just have to pour one for myself." She grabbed a glass from a nearby shelf and poured what was at least a triple measure of whiskey into it, leaving the bottle next to her glass.

Damon looked from her glass and met Amy's eyes once again, "are you sure you're allowed to drink whilst on the job?" he questioned her.

"What's the point of working behind a bar if you can't sneak at least a drink or two in?" she replied, with a twinkle in her eye, "with the kind of colourful customers I get the pleasure of serving each day, alcohol is basically the only thing that keeps me sane. Besides, it's just you and me in here buddy, so who's going to tell my boss why we seem to keep running out of bourbon when apparently it's just you and Ric who drink the stuff?"

He smirked at the girl standing across the bar from him. They'd exchanged some meaningless small talk in the past when she'd taken his order but she seemed to have a decent sense of humour which surprised him.

"You know who Ric is?" he asked her, curious.

"Not particularly. Just his name, his drink order, he's dating Jenna Sommers, he teaches history at the high school, and he's your best friend", Amy shrugged, "working at the only restaurant in town means I tend to pick up bits and pieces about people over time."

"Fair enough", he considered, taking a sip of his drink. "I take it by your Queen-like accent that you've not always lived in Mystic Falls, though. What was your name again? Amy?"

"Uh, no, I'm not a Mystic Falls native although I hear one of my great-great-grandparents lived somewhere vaguely near this area a couple of hundred years ago. I was born in Cornwall originally, on the south coast of England, before moving out from home as a teenager to live in London with a bunch of my mates during uni. I needed a break from city living, so I did some adventuring. I've toured practically the whole globe in the last couple of years, but lemme tell you, travelling gets expensive- hence why I've stayed put in Mystic Falls for the last couple of weeks. A girl has to eat somehow, so I got myself a regular income here, plus doing a few odd jobs in the local area so I can get back to my globetrotting." She swirled the drink around in her glass.

"And as for my name," she continued, sticking out her hand across the bar to shake Damon's, "I'm Amelia Diaboli, but my friends call me Amy."

Damon took her hand in his, but rather than shaking it as she'd expected he instead placed a gentle kiss on the back of it, causing Amy to blush and a rush of blood to bloom across her porcelain complexion. "Amelia" he repeated, allowing for each letter to roll off his tongue, "An elegant name most befitting for an ethereal beauty such as yourself"

"A charmer, are we?" Amy replied, "At least that'd explain why I seem to have seen half the town's female population follow you out of those doors in these past couple of weeks alone."

"Jealous?" he flirted.

"You're certainly something of a mystery to me, Damon Salvatore. I know your name, I know your brother and your best friend, but other than that you seem practically immune to the whisperings of the local community." She stood up and cornered the end of the bar, walking round to sit beside Damon, where Alaric had once sat. "But a tall, dark and handsome man such as yourself must have some sort of dark secrets I'm sure," she moved her hand to rest it on Damon's muscular thigh.

"Secrets? Me?" Damon laughed softly, leaning in and placing his hand on top of Amy's, "I'm an open book, baby."

"Well, I'd certainly like to get to know you better" she picked up her glass and knocked back the end of her bourbon. Standing up to place herself between his legs, she looped her arms around either side of Damon's neck. "What if I were to finish locking up here, and invite you back to my place for a nightcap?"

"I think I like that idea." He whispered in her ear, his whiskey-scented warm breath tingling across her neck. "I like it very much."

Amy released Damon from her arms and turned around to grab the keys to the diner, as well as her leather jacket from the hooks behind the door to the kitchen. Turning off the lights in the bar and restaurant, the only light came from the lamps on the street outside. Glancing around in the semi-darkness she turned to see Damon watching her every movement with an almost predatory stare. She started to head towards the doors, swinging her hips slightly with every step she took, without a second look back she called out behind her, "you coming?"

"I'm right behind you," came the whispered response. Amy lightly gasped at his silent approach, causing Damon to chuckle softly, she hadn't realised how close he was.

Once outside, Damon lead her over to where he'd parked his vintage blue Camaro in a secluded corner of the car park underneath an overhanging tree. He leaned his back against the car and gestured Amy towards him. She obliged, the corner of her lips turning upwards into a slight smirk as she waltzed over towards him.

Damon grabbed her hips and pulled Amy closer to him, their bodies colliding as he leant down and claimed her lips in a ferocious kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lip as his tongue begged for entry. She allowed him to deepen the kiss, their tongues swirling. He tasted like liquor with a hint of something she couldn't quite place.

Amy pulled back to regain her breath, her lips swollen from the bruising kiss. She looked up to his face to see spidery black veins forming underneath Damon's eyes and a set of fangs descended from his gums. Her eyes widened at the sight, but Damon tightened his grip on her body.

He raised a finger to his lips to silence her. "Hush now, don't scream", his pupils contracting and dilating as he spoke to her, "I promise this will only hurt for a moment." He brushed back the hair from her neck, his fangs hovering over her pulse point.

Amy had only a moment to react. "But this will probably hurt you quite a lot." She pulled back from Damon's grip and stuck the needle from the syringe she'd hidden in her jacket into his leg and pushed swiftly down on the plunger. She watched as face contorted into a myriad of expressions; pain, anger, confusion.

His grip on her faltered as he started to fall out of consciousness. Amy quickly moved to catch him as he fell, and laid him down gently on the cold, damp, concrete next to his car.

"Vervain" he managed to choke out.

"Sorry, honey." Amy replied, replacing the cap onto her needle and putting it back into her pocket. "It's nothing personal." She knelt down beside Damon's body to kiss him gently on the cheek.

"Sweet dreams" was the last thing Damon heard, as his body was overtaken by the vervain and the poison rendered him unconscious.