Summary: My version of the scene 3x03. Slightly different quotes. Scene is set up differently.

The cool, crisp morning air whipped across his face while he made way to the Gilbert household. Elena would be up, right? She hadn't been getting a lot of sleep one way or the other. It was something he had picked up on; her loss of sleep was almost terrifying, in a way. He feared for her health and yet he understood completely why she was up all night. Stressing about Stefan, no doubt. His brother's name tasted bitter against his tongue but soon was completely forgotten as Damon looked toward Elena's window. How many times had he snuck in already? Some times he was noticed and welcomes. But most of the time his drop ins were spontaneous and unwanted. No matter.

She isn't shuffling around. Damn, he thought, she's not awake. Something told him to come back later. At the same time, something told him to just barge right in and demand her coherency.

You can surely guess which "something" he was going to go for.

He landed swiftly in the bedroom, a rush of Elena's perfume already hitting his nostrils. It smelled delicious, like raspberries, with a hint of human stench: sweat and blood. That, too, was rather delicious. Yet easily forgotten once he caught sight of his brown haired beauty laying peacefully in her sleep. For a moment he blanked, forgetting his master plan of waking her up only moments ago. Perched on her side, she looked angelic.

Without making a sound he walks over to the bed, noticing the large gap next to her. A perfect fit for someone a size as he was to simply slip on top of the covers and lay his body next to her.

Elena mumbles something unintelligible under her breath. Even his superior hearing can't pick it up. He assumes it was just a sigh of burbles like a baby's sigh.

And then…no.

He shouldn't do it.

Don't do it, Damon. That's pushing it.

But he can't resist the warm, welcoming bed of Miss Elena Gilbert. And why wouldn't he push it? She wasn't his. He could do whatever he wanted because he was Damon Salvatore. A smirk crept along his face. What a perfect wake up call!

So, being Damon, he slid onto the covers and raised his arms over his head comfortably. His eyes did not leave her face and an expression of simple purity fell upon him. How beautiful she looked. So at ease. Not a worry line on her pretty little head. "Perfect…" he smiled to himself. The sound of her heartbeat shifting gives him a giddy, nervous feeling. But instead of opening her eyes, she turns her body and inches closer to him. Mumbles drip off of her lips and he holds his breath.

And then magically, ironically, and sensationally…she curls against his chest like a lost puppy.

Through the black fabric of his button up her soft cheek scolds his flesh. Her hand wraps around his torso and he finds himself utterly lost for words. A smile finds his lips unintentionally as he realizes that she's sleeping on him. She's truly comfortable and peaceful.

But that's only because she's asleep, he reminds himself. She would never do any o this if she was conscious. Too lost in his thoughts he doesn't hear the light thu-thump as her heart gradually quickens its pace.

And she's aware that she's just waking up, but she doesn't know what time it is or where she is. All she knows is that her bed is rising and falling…almost like breathing…

and then it rumbles.

"Mmm, rise and shine…sleepyhead."

She stretches her body in the slightest and turns her head toward the source of such rumbles. Eyes fluttering open, she meets blue orbs that pierce into her soul. Only one set of eyes in the entire world could do that. His eyes.

These eyes.

She blinks, thinking this is a dream. It is, isn't it? She almost laughs. And for a second she almost freaked— thinking Damon was actually in her bed! Just another dream. She tucks her head back into his chest and sighs, body aching with a night's rest. Something inside of her questions her: Why don't you move?

"Hmmm…mhm…because I'm too tired." she says out loud, speaking to the dream Damon and the voice.

She feels an explosion of ripples emerge from the chest of Damon beneath her. "Elena."

Her eyes snap open now, and she takes in the scene before her. Was she really on his chest? She yelps, sitting upright and frantically covering herself with her blanket. "What are you doing? Get out!"

He smiles now, a bright white smile that touches his eyes. "You know you were dreaming about me. Explains the drool," he suggestively looks toward his shirt. Elena casts a quick glance - making sure he isn't joking. It wouldn't of been the first time, to be honest.

She shakes her head, slapping him on the chest. "6 am? Really? You have nothing better to do at 6 AM?"

He registers the question and then decides, "Nope." while popping his lips on the 'p'.

She rolls her eyes and yawns loudly. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd stop by. Oh and Stefan's in Chicago. Wanted to mention that, too." he smiles.

Why couldn't he stop grinning? Damn him making her want to smile back. She almost does so instead she pulls out the pillow from behind her and squishes it over her face, body flopping flat on the mattress.

He still hasn't gotten out of the bed.

"Chicago?" she asks, voice muffled by feathers and fabric.

"Yep." Popping that 'p' again.

Chicago. That meant they would have to road trip there. This could be it. They could have Stefan back! Her feet start fidgeting in response to her excitement. Damon smells it all over her; the happiness. The realization that she is more content on hearing about Stefan than him laying right next to her.

"How do you know?"

"It came to me in a dream." he smirked. "I was naked. You would have loved it."

Beneath the pillow, she blushes a brilliant pink. No, she wouldn't. She's seen him naked. It was rather awkward and..interesting. Her whole body radiates and Damon senses the embarrassment all over her. Someone clearly thinks about me, he laughed to himself.

When she's sure that she is no longer blushing, she whips the pillow around and hits him with it. An amused sound - almost like purring - escapes his lips. In a quick movement, he has already ripped the pillow from his face and wheeled it back at her. She couldn't move fast enough; it was already making contact with her temple.

"Damon!" she whined.

"Elena!" he mocked.

They simply glared at each other, anger and irritation radiating off of their body. And in the same minute they were both laughing brilliant white smiles. Damon because her hair was a train wreck and Elena because she had discovered that he purrs like a kitten.

And in that brief moment, she forgot Stefan. She forgot vital information that she had craved for all of Summer now. He could be home …but for now, all that mattered was the way Damon was chuckling, still planted firmly on her mattress.

"Now, get out. I have to get dressed." she insisted firmly, climbing out of bed.

Damon tried not to glance at her PJ shorts, but they were his favorite, and he took a peak anyway feeling unashamed for it. "Let me help." With a swift movement he was opening up her drawer. Lucky for him it was her underwear drawer, filled with lace spanks and colorful bikini bottoms. He reached for a bright red one, feeling it light on his finger tips. "Ooh, put these in the yes pile." he cooed.

She felt her face get red as she struggled to snatch the fabric away from him. He ran his fingers over his chest, still remembering the way they felt. She glared at him stiffly and with a shrug he exited the room, leaving her alone to ponder her thoughts.

Still gripping the red lace, she realized that these were a personal favorite. They were about two years old yet the way they fit was perfect.

And perhaps if Elena was slightly better at remembering events and situations, she would have noticed that they were the very same pair of underwear she wore on the night she first met Damon Salvatore.