Hi again beautiful readers! This is my second story posting here (you are all so amazing and supportive, I just couldn't help myself). I am working on another titled All You Are to Me, but I got the idea for this one a couple of weeks ago and figured I'd start working on it before I lost inspiration. I hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Vampire Diaries, the characters, or their likenesses. No copyright infringement intended.

"Turn right in 2 miles," the GPS console on the dash instructed in a prim mechanical voice. Elena ran her fingers through her long wind-tangled hair and stretched her legs as best she could in the driver's seat. She'd been on the road for nine hours; she had no idea what she'd find in Mystic Falls, but at this point she'd be satisfied with a hot meal and soft bed. She left her condo in Boston at four o'clock that morning. Her company generously offered to fly her into Richmond and cover the cost of a rental car, but she was looking forward to spending the day out on the open road to sort her thoughts. As of late her personal life had been on a steep, inevitable downward spiral until it finally imploded on its sorry self: the manuscript she'd spent almost three years of her life writing and polishing was shamelessly rejected by the yet another publisher, her brother had just received his order to deploy to Afghanistan, her parents let her know that they were getting a divorce, and to top it all off, the last time she saw her boyfriend he was frantically throwing clothes in a duffel bag and moving out.

"Matt, please, can we just talk?" she pled. Every time Matt through an article of clothing in the open duffel bag she took it back out and replaced it in the dresser. Elena and Matt Donovan had dated since their sophomore year in high school. She loved him, there was no doubt about that, but she questioned whether she was in love with him anymore. Their relationship was comfortable and familiar, but it lacked passion and excitement.

"No, I'm done talking, I'm done fighting, I'm just done, ok Elena?" he said, snatching his bag from the bed and out of her reach.

"Don't do this Matt, please," Elena cried, "we can work this out. Don't leave."

"There's nothing to work out, Elena. You don't want to get married. You don't want kids. I mean, shit, you can't even commit to going on vacation with me!"

"I want to, but I told you, I have work," she started to become defensive. She could already see what was coming next; same crap, different day.

"I am sick and tired of sharing space in this relationship with your damn job!"

"So we're back to this again? I never said I didn't want to get married, I just don't want to get married now, I don't want kids now. You've got it all mapped out and I don't want it now."

"Then when Elena? Because it used to be after graduation, then it was after college, and then it was after grad school, now it's after your book."

"It's important to me," she frowned. Matt wasn't the only one putting pressure on her, she got it from her parents, her friends, that weird aunt she had who only seemed to materialize when her mother was nagging her about grandkids.

"I know, but I can't just sit around waiting for you to be ready for me."

"Matt, please, I love you. Please don't leave," she let the tears roll down her cheeks, hoping it would help him see her earnestness.

"I love you, too, Elena," he cupped her face with his hands and for a fleeting moment they were high school sweethearts again, gazing into each other's eyes on the bleachers after football practice, "but I can't do this anymore."

"Please," she whispered, no longer sure what she was asking for.

"I can't be the one to break you, Elena. I can't ask you to give up on your dreams; you're going to publish that book and travel the world like you've always wanted. Please don't ask me to give up mine," his voice cracked over the last few words and he pulled her against his chest. She fell against him and cried into his t-shirt. Their relationship had been over for months but that was the first time she allowed herself to admit it. He held her while she cried herself to sleep and when she woke up in the morning he was gone and his key to their apartment was left on the counter.

She thought briefly about calling Matt, just to see how he was doing, but decided against it. If he wanted to talk, he would call. Instead, she dialed her best girlfriends' house. Since Bonnie and Caroline lived together, she knew she'd get at least someone on the line she could talk to.

"Breakup Support Hotline," Bonnie answered after two rings.

"Hey, Bon," Elena sighed. Word must have gotten around fast about her and Matt's break up.

"How are you doing?" Bonnie seemed genuinely concerned, but not surprised. After all, it was Bonnie who first noticed the platonic shift in Elena and Matt's relationship several months ago.

"I'm ok, I guess. I mean, it was kind of inevitable, right? It just sucks, but… whatever. Distract me." Elena didn't want to think about Matt.

"Oh! I have just the thing! So Grams is telling me that I'm psychic. Our ancestors were from Salem, witches and all that. I know—crazy, right? But what if it's true. Like yesterday, Caroline and I were at Copley Place and she saw this adorable yellow bandage dress and she was like 'I wonder how much this is,' and I said '$179.' Do you know how much the dress was?" Bonnie asked excitedly.

"A hundred seventy-nine dollars?"

"No! It was $143.20, but it was twenty per cent off, so it was $179. How weird is that?"

"So predict something… about me," Elena was impressed, Bonnie managed to bring a smile to her face.

"I predict this year is going to be kick ass. And I predict all the sad and dark times are over and you are going to be beyond happy. And that's totally accurate, plus or minus twenty per cent." Bonnie giggled. Elena could hear Caroline in the background.

"Is that Elena?" Caroline's voice was getting closer to the phone, "Elena?" she took the phone from Bonnie. "How are you?"

"I'm fine Caroline, much better. Just needed some space to clear my head."

"Oh my gosh, did Bonnie tell you about the amazing yellow bandage dress we found at Copley Place?"

"She did. I hope you got it in a 2 because I'm going to borrow it."

"Only if you also wear the fabulous green pumps I got to go with it. When are you coming home? We need to go out as single girls!" Caroline whined. A part of Elena felt like Caroline had been waiting for her and Matt to break up so they could roam the town Sex and the City style.

"I'll be home next week, hopefully. I just need to get this freaking Salvatore guy to sign his store over. The sooner the better."

"Ooo, I hope he's hot, not just hot, but like post-break-up hot," Caroline said playfully.

"He's old Care, I doubt he's hot," Elena shook her head.

"Maybe he has a hot son," Bonnie chimed in. "Or a nephew!"

"Let your freak flag fly Lena! Find some Southern hottie with a sexy accent and cut loose a little," Caroline chirped.

"You haven't been single since high school, now is your time to play the field," Bonnie agreed.

"Because I'm so that girl," Elena laughed.

"Nothing wrong with a little fun," Caroline audibly shrugged.

"Alright, well I'll keep you posted. I'll see you guys in a few days. Love you!" Elena knew that her best friends could find the bright side of the whole crappy situation, and they didn't disappoint.

"Love you, too!" Caroline and Bonnie said at the same time. Elena felt considerably more at ease when she hung up. She knew that her and Matt's break up was hard on her friends because they had all been so close for so long, she was just glad to have them in her life still with no hard feelings.

She passed a small sign tucked back in the thick foliage of the pine trees.

Welcome to Mystic Falls, VA

Population: 1,864

"Turn right," the GPS politely reminded her and she veered off of the main highway onto a narrow two-lane road with a faded stripe down the middle. The forest on either side of the road was so thick that she couldn't see but a few feet past the shoulder. She crossed over a small bridge and entered the town. It was exactly what she pictured when she thought of "Small Town America." There was a central green around which a brick city hall stood, proudly displaying an antique clock in its belfry. A few shops bordered the square, a post office, and a restaurant. Elena dropped a mental pin at the location of the Mystic Grill, which she would definitely be hitting up for dinner after checking into her hotel. She couldn't shrug off the cloak of guilt that overcame her as she admired the idyllic little hamlet; she was public enemy number one in places like this. She was a corporate acquisitions agent for Grimoire Books, a multinational conglomerate of bookstores. Her job required her to go into small towns like Mystic Falls and bring mom-n-pop shops like Salvatore Books into the corporate fold as Grimoire franchises. She hated her job, hated it with the fire of a thousand suns, but it beat waiting tables while she shopped her manuscript around.

The hotel she had reserved was hard to miss. It was a large plantation style building with a row of white Corinthian columns looming before a pair of massive red French doors. She stopped her car in the semi-circle gravel driveway and climbed the few stairs to the entrance, admiring the exquisite antebellum architecture. She wondered if the building was a recreation or if it had really survived the Civil War in such immaculate shape.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to Lockwood Manor," an elegant older woman greeted her when she entered the well-appointed lobby. "How may I help you?"

"I have a reservation for Elena Gilbert," Elena smiled. She liked the Southern hospitality already. People were never that polite in Boston, on most days she was lucky if her super so much as grunted in her direction as a greeting.

"Oh yes, of course! Welcome Miss Gilbert. All the way from Boston, oh dear, you must be exhausted," the woman sighed. "I'm Carol Lockwood. I'd be happy to show you to your room. Do you have any more luggage?"

"Just a couple of suitcases in the car, I can grab them later."

"Nonsense, Miss Gilbert. You're on vacation, it's time for you to relax," Carol waved at her. "Tyler!" She called and a young man popped his head around the corner.

"Yeah Mom?"

"Will you take Miss Gilbert's luggage to room seven, please?" The young man nodded and disappeared back to what he was doing. "That's my son, Tyler," Carol explained to Elena as she led her up the stairs to her room.

"This is a stunning house Mrs. Lockwood," Elena commented as she examined the carefully carved walnut banister.

"Thank you, dear. The original Lockwoods built it in 1837; during the Civil War it functioned as part of the Underground Railroad." Elena had the feeling that this place held a lot of secrets and she wished she had more time to explore them. "Are you a history buff, Miss Gilbert?"

"Something like that," Elena smiled. "I'm an author, so I'm mainly just a story buff."

"You'll find plenty of stories in Mystic Falls." Mrs. Lockwood paused as they reached a room at the top of the stairs. "This is it. If you need anything at all just find one of us. I do hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," Elena took the key from Carol and unlocked the door. The room was furnished in dark antique wooden furniture; there was a canopy bed in the middle of the room, and a mirrored vanity against the far wall. Elena almost jumped out of her skin with excitement when she saw a wardrobe for her clothes, and honest to goodness wardrobe. Her ten-year-old mind compelled her to open the doors and knock against the back, just to make sure Mr. Tumnus wasn't home. In fit of girlish glee she threw herself onto the over-stuffed mattress and kicked her feet in the air. The room was like the princess room she had always wanted as a girl and, from what she could tell, this town offered more than enough to fill her spare time— maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

Before she could let herself get too comfortable in her room, her stomach growled ferociously reminding her that she hadn't had anything to eat all day besides a gas station cold cut and a few bags of potato chips. She rolled off the bed and changed out of her frumpy travel clothes. Instead of her rumpled Pink sweats and a Dr. Pepper-stained tank top she slipped on a red short-sleeved sheath dress and demure black pumps. She slicked on a coat of clear lip-gloss and touched up her mascara. Bonnie and Caroline were right: she was single, successful, and ready to play the field a little. Before walking out the door she shrugged on her cropped faux leather jacket to ward off the chilliness of the January air.

She opted to walk the few blocks to the restaurant and see more of the town. It was a beautiful night after all, and her muscles appreciated being turned free from the confines of her car. When she walked into the Grill more than a few heads turned, making it obvious that she was an outsider. Instead of sitting awkwardly at a table by herself she took a seat at the bar, where she wolfed down a cheeseburger and fries like she'd never seen food before. She was impressed, it was far better than the typical greasy spoon fare she had expected to find. The handsome, blonde-haired, blue-eyed waiter who came by to refill her drink reminded her of Matt and her good mood was instantly soured. She waited for the bartender, who was decidedly un-Matt like, to come over and she ordered a drink.

"Martini please, dirty," Elena groaned.

"Bad night, huh?" the dark-haired bartender asked as he picked up a stainless steel shaker and a dropped two olives into an empty glass.

"Bad month," she nodded as he slid the drink in front of her. The liquor burned deliciously as it swam down her throat, and she could feel it warming her from the pit of her stomach. She leaned back in the chair and spun the stem of the glass between her fingers. A part of her wanted to go back to her room and curl up in the fluffy bed and sleep until late morning, but another part of her wanted to live it up for the week. All of her problems would still be there waiting for her in Boston, and why should she let them follow her all the way to Virginia and spoil a perfectly good voyage of self-discovery? Maybe this is what she would need to give her the perspective to become a truly great author. Steinbeck did it, so did Kerouac and Hemingway. Maybe she was onto something— this didn't have to be a dreary business trip. This could be the genesis of a new Elena, one who could live in the moment and revel in the lightness of being unattached for the first time in years.

"Bourbon neat," a velvety voice called out from behind her interrupting her thoughts, "and whatever this beautiful woman is having." A man confidently slid into the seat next to her and didn't try to hide the fact that he was shamelessly checking her out. She turned to give the man a snarky reply, but found herself wordless and in awe of him. Simply put, he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Handsome wasn't even the right word, he was Adonis come to life, from his rugged, chiseled jaw line to his full lips to his tousled black hair that shone in the low light like a raven's wing. Most remarkable, however, were his crystalline azure eyes that sparkled with mischief and something else she couldn't quite place. His languid appraisal of her short dress spoke volumes to his own ego and he arrogantly allowed those bright blue eyes to linger on the skin of her exposed thigh. Dressed in dark jeans, grey t-shirt and a black leather jacket, he certainly wasn't the nice, down-home, Southern boy Caroline and Bonnie had in mind for her; this man was sin incarnate. Caroline had a term for guys like him: walking orgasm.

"I'm Damon."

A.N. What do you think? Should I continue it? Leave your comments, they are like Pixy Stix for my inner 6-year-old writing fiend :)

XOXO ~Anna