Damon/Elena Fan Fiction

"A Shot across the Bow"—A Little fan fiction to express my Delena Love! I'm routing for Damon and Elena and though I love Stefan, he is uncontrollable. I mean, Damon has his flaws as well (like his impulsive character, his clinginess, his need for attention), but he hasn't given up on her. 3/17/12

PLEASE READ! This is a scene I made up to come somewhere after Caroline's dad was murdered and before Esther met Bonnie and Abigail in attempt to kill her children. This does not take in account the events from the actual series! Thanks for reading AND reviewing! Maybe? Yes?

Dedicated to Ian Somerhalder—my soon to be husband (I wish!) and Greenbelt—for helping me discover feelings I didn't know I could possess.

~Here's the Story!~

Damon took a deep breath and let it out silently. The room was filled with boring nonsense that would have driven him crazy in a matter of seconds. The Founder's Council meetings were always such a hassle and they never really got anything done. Mayor Lockwood kept arguing with Sheriff Forbes about the murders and literally all Damon had to occupy him was a metal flask in the pocket of his black leather jacket he was tempted to pull out but couldn't move his tired, lazy body enough to actually do it. He rested his head on his hand, his elbow on the metal surface of a filing cabinet. But his life was saved when an angry mayor growled, "Meeting adjourned."

Damon quickly made his way back to the boarding house, but couldn't help himself in making a detour to Elena's house.

Her head was killing her with the millions of problems she had on her plate as she chopped up yet another carrot for whatever she decided on making. Elena decided that she couldn't be trusted with a knife in her state of distress and put it down, sighing and brushing the excess hair from her face. She turned to the sink behind her and splashed her face with water, believing it would calm her down but only succeeding in making her face and shirt wet.

She went upstairs to her bedroom to change her shirt and relax. She peeled of the wet tee, which felt like an extra, unnecessary layer of skin against that of her own and used the white hand towel on her messy bed to wipe off the excess water.

She got a cami from her dresser and before she could put it on, caught herself staring at the photos on her mirror—the one of her and Stefan, and under that the one of Damon holding her as they danced at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. She sighed. Then she noticed the window open and a black leather jacket on a dark figure behind her. She gasped and turned around, covering her bare flesh with the undershirt she now wished she had put o earlier.

"Damon, you pervert! What are you doing?"

"Hmm." He thought about his answer for a while before saying, "Enjoying the view."

"Oh, my god!" Elena used one hand (the other still shielding herself) to smack his arm. "Get out, Damon! Get out!"

"Fine, fine!" he replied as he walked out the door and into the hallway. Elena turned back to the mirror, mistakenly dropping her hands, and sighed. The door opened again and Damon commented, "By the way, nice bra."

"Damon!"

Elena slipped the cami on and opened the door to see Damon leaning against the wall, with his eyes staring at her and his lips smirking—both seductively. "Stop pulling stunts live this," she said.

"Why? You're fair game now, aren't you?" He teased. Damon couldn't admit to it voluntarily—besides, she knew how he felt—but he loved her. He never knew these emotions; or, better yet, he didn't know he could possess them. Stefan was always the passionate one, even though he doesn't care anymore. But Damon always cared, he only pretends not too. They see him as this monster—and he knew he used to deserve it. Now, because of some change derived from his feelings for Elena, he can't do things like he used to and could now only do things almost as similar and bad when she would push him away. Basically, he only did this stuff out of jealousy and anger and hatred now, not because he could and didn't care about the consequences. That was before.

Elena stared at him with these playful eyes. She was trying to decode his thoughts, but couldn't.

Damon couldn't help himself and slowly leaned forward. Elena knew he was about to kiss her and she knew a part of her wanted to lean in and meet him half way. But, still, she pushed him away and shook her head. "Damon, I can't. It's not"—

"Right?" Damon finished. "It's right for me, Elena. And I know you feel it too."

Her eyes were pained as she stared at him. "Damon," she sighed.

He ignored her, of course, and leaned in again. This time, that part of Elena gave in and she pressed her lips against Damon's. She wrapped her arms around his neck, weaved her hands through his soft, black hair, as he cradled her waist. She was begging, pleading for more, and the more she begged and pleaded, the more he gave her. Seconds later, Elena realized what was happening and she broke away, with horror on her face.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." She backed away, hitting the side of her bed in her path.

Damon smirked. "I happened."

"I kissed Damon today," Elena confessed to her two best friends as they lay in her bed in their pajamas. "On lighter news, however, I like how we're having a girls' night as if we're normal—like we used to."

"Hold on. You kissed Damon?" Caroline said. "Details, please?" she begged.

"I'd rather not."

"So the Salvatore boys cast their spell yet again," Bonnie commented. They all laughed at her remark. She would know, Elena thought.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, and a part of me wishes it never did. I…I don't know how I feel or what to think." Elena smashed her face against a pillow and kicked her feet on the floor and let out a loud scream.

"You can be such a drama queen," Caroline complained. "I say we spend today not thinking about the supernatural and dramatic and just have some fun!"

"Works for me," Bonnie replied.

Elena stared in thin air for a moment as they awaited her reply. She took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Why not?"

But somehow through the night, their conversation took a turn that sent their plan of a drama-free night into a plane (which was sent to a rocket that shot up to the moon, only to be attained through flying. Now if only she were superman…). Elena confessed to what happened and Caroline begged her for more detail, which she didn't really have. The two—Bonnie and Caroline—freaked out when she remembered to mention her state of undress.

This led her to her ultimate question—the one that rang in her ears as she tried (and failed) to fall asleep—who would she choose?

[The Next morning—Salvatore Boarding House]

Damon got out of his cold shower—not even taking the time to remember clothes as he walked with suds all over him to his bedroom. He got a towel from his closet and wiped the soap from his bare, cold skin and dried his pitch-black hair. He slipped on a pair of jeans, a shirt that did crazy justice on his muscles, and his favorite faux leather jacket (which he never understood. He could kill humans, but couldn't stand to by a real leather jacket. He may never know…).

There was a knock at his door; someone had caught him humming. "What's got you in such a good mood?" Stefan said, standing in the open doorway, leaning against the wooden hinge.

Damon couldn't help but smile to himself—but of course, his reputation was at stake and he hid it from his little brother. "Can't a guy just"—

"No, a guy can't; not when that guy is you, Damon."

"I guess you're right," Damon admitted. "And I guess you'll never know." Damon showed off his signature smirk as he brushed shoulders with his brother, leaving a smiling Stefan stuck at the door while he was already out of the house.

There was something about the moment—something in Damon made him absolutely more cocky than usual (something that was pretty dangerous). He walked all the way to the Mystic Grill and sat at the bar for a moment, resting his elbows on the counter as he surveyed the rest of the restaurant.

After one of her normal morning runs and a warm, relaxing bath, Elena joined her two friends, who were waiting patiently downstairs in the clothes they brought in plastic grocery bags. Bonnie drove them down to the Mystic Grill; they rode in silence. It must have been, maybe, eleven? Twelve? They don't know; but Elena and Bonnie's stomach growled slightly. Caroline wasn't in the mood right now, and did her best with the thermos in her purse.

As they peered inside, Bonnie was the first to notice the pitch black jacket sitting at the corner of the bar. She warned Elena, believing this would ruin their dram free weekend—that, as Elena reminded her, was only supposed to last a night, which they didn't even succeed. As they sat down, Elena kept looking back at the man, who was staring back at her…and smiling. Elena closed her eyes and looked away.

Damon kept staring at her, though, please with his intimidation.

"If it's too much for you, we can leave," Caroline said.

"Yeah," Bonnie agreed. "The leftovers in your fridge were delicious."

"Thanks, guys, but I'm fine," Elena lied. "Perfectly fine."

In a way, she was fine, just not in the way they wanted her to be.

~Next Chapter~

A/N: I Love Damon and Elena. I feel they really belong together. Sorry if you feel this doesn't reflect the views of Damon or Elena. This is my first ever Fan Fiction. Please REVIEW! Good or bad; I don't care!