I realize I'm in the middle of She Will Be Loved, but inspiration for this hit me pretty hard a few days ago and I started writing. This is a little different than what I'm used to writing but hopefully you all will like it.

Also, this is in first person, Caroline's POV.

Damon Salvatore is my best friend.

I know what you're thinking. Why not Bonnie or Elena? They are my age, they are practically my sisters, and they are girls. Well, for one, Bonnie can be judgmental and Elena can be a bitch. And I'm not just saying that because they aren't here to defend themselves – no, I'd tell them that to their face. In fact, I have said it to them before. They get pissed for a while, but then we get along for a while. They are really practically my sisters – after Elena's parents died and Bonnie's mom abandoned her, my mom became somewhat of a surrogate mother to the both of them. Really, my whole group of friends – Damon, Elena, Bonnie, Damon's brother Stefan, Tyler Lockwood, Matt Donovan and me – we grew up together. I've known them all since we were in diapers. Damon's two years older than the rest of us, but he and I always really clicked. We've been practically attached at the hip since we were young. My parents and Damon's dad, Guiseppe, always joked about us growing up and falling in love, but Damon's my friend. It'd be weird for us to be together.

That's why I wasn't surprised to see Damon sitting in my living room that Saturday morning. He was reading the newspaper and without looking up, he said, "Good morning, Buttercup."

Ugh. That stupid nickname. Damon has called me Buttercup since he was seven and I was five. Even as a little boy, Damon was charming, and he told me that my hair looked like the color of the flower. I even made the mistake of telling fourteen year old Damon that I hated the nickname and didn't want him to call me that anymore, but he was fourteen, and did it to annoy me. Now, though, ten years later, it doesn't bother me that much.

"What are you doing here, Damon? And how did you get in?"

He shrugged and put the newspaper down, "Tyler let me in. He was on his way to class."

Tyler Lockwood is my roommate – and just my roommate. He is going to law school right now and he asked me if I wanted to move in with him as his roommate to save some money on rent. Tyler and I are good friends. I dated Matt in high school, who was Tyler's best friend, and he and I just kinda clicked – but not the way that Damon and I do. He's good company and he is a really good guy. He hasn't always been, but he's changed since high school. He went through some really deep shit in junior year with his father's death, and he's become a better man since then. When Matt and I broke up in senior year, Tyler and I remained friends.

"Isn't it a little early for you to be here, Damon?" I ask him, going into the kitchen. He followed me.

I got a carton of eggs out and proceeded to make myself some breakfast. Damon just watched me for a moment.

"I'm up early because I need to ask you a favor and I wanted to catch you before you went to work," he said. I work at a daycare, from nine to four everyday but Sunday. It makes me busy, but I love it. I love working with kids and I want tons of them when I finally get married and settled down.

Getting my scrambled eggs out of the pan, I watch him for a moment before sitting down at the kitchen island counter and start to eat. I am waiting for him to ask.

"Father is having a big party tonight at the country club. He wants to celebrate Elena and Stefan's engagement."

I roll my eyes, "Stefan and Elena have been engaged for over a year."

"I know. They're getting married in a couple of months, and Elena's even pregnant, but Father insists. He also insists I bring a date. He keeps going on and on about how his almost twenty-seven year old son is still single and playing the field, while his younger son is getting married and about to be a father. Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of hearing about it, so I wanted to know if you'd go with me just to shut the old man up."

"Yeah, but Damon, everybody knows that we're friends. I mean, hell, you call my parents mom and dad."

"I know. But I was thinking of telling Father a little white lie – that we've been seeing each other in secret and don't want anybody to know about it. I mean, we'd have to kiss and stuff, but I'm okay with it if you are."

"You know I'd do anything for you, Damon, but I don't know about this…" my voice trailed off.

"C'mon, Caroline, please? I'm not too proud to beg," he said, making a face. I knew he was serious because that's the only time he uses my given name. "It's just to put one over on my father. I'll repay you any way you want, just please do this for me."

The dilemma wasn't because Damon wanted to fool Guiseppe. No, his father was an ass. After Damon's mother died of cancer when he was eight, Stefan became Guiseppe's favorite. He would do anything for Stefan – he was the golden boy. And when they became teenagers, Guiseppe seemed to love Stefan more because he did what his father wanted. Stefan studied hard, played football, went steady with Elena practically his whole life. Damon played the field, was an incredible ladies' man, and did what he did just to get by. It didn't help that Damon works as a bartender at the local hangout, the Mystic Grill. He's worked there since he was eighteen and loves bartending. And I know for a fact that a lot of the fights that happen between Guiseppe and Damon just happen to be about me. I've walked in on enough of them. Guiseppe doesn't believe that a man and a woman can be close friends like Damon and me without something romantic going on.

I sigh deeply, running a hand through my hair. I know that I'm going to give in, and I bet Damon does too by the way he's looking at me. Finally, after a few moments of silence, I say, "Okay, I'll do it. What time?"

He broke out into a huge grin, "It's at seven. I'll come by around five to help you get ready."

"I know how to dress myself, Salvatore."

"Yeah, I know, but my girlfriend has to be hot, Buttercup," he says to me and I sigh. This is a losing battle. I watch him for a moment before glancing at the clock. It's after eight thirty now and I have got to get going.

"Look, Damon, I've gotta run. You can let yourself out, yes?"

He nodded as I grabbed my car keys and my bag and I left. As I drove to work, I couldn't help but have this nagging feeling that whatever was happening with Damon right now was a very bad idea. I honestly just wish I had known how bad of one it really was.

-x-

I got home at a quarter after four and when I walked through the front door, Tyler and Damon were sitting on the couch, each of them with a beer in their hand, and they were laughing about something. Now, this picture is a weird one. Damon and Tyler hate each other, and have for a long time. Damon has picked many a fight with Tyler's uncle Mason Lockwood and the animosity between Tyler and Damon has always been there. So this picture was a bit strange.

"It's only a quarter past four, Damon," I say to him as I set my bag down on the table closest to me. "You said you wouldn't be here until five. I need time for a shower and stuff."

"Relax, Buttercup," Damon says, and Tyler smirks at me.

"Yeah, relax, Buttercup," Tyler says with a smile. I shoot him a dirty look and then tell Tyler, "Only Damon is allowed to call me that."

"Just because you can't stop him," Tyler says and I roll my eyes.

"Go shower. I'll still be here when you get out."

"Thanks for your permission," I mumbled as I leave the room.

The hot water feels absolutely divine and I have to scrub a little harder on my hands where one of the kids, Jimmy, kind of attacked me with a glitter glue pen. As I told Daphne, my boss, I'm taking a note here and now. Four year olds should not have access to glitter glue. I take the time in the shower to hope and pray that tonight goes okay. I remember in seventh grade when it became knowledge that Stefan had a crush on Elena. I knew before practically everybody, though, because Damon tells me everything. They had been such good friends up to that point and I always thought that being lovers with someone who had been a close friend your entire life would be weird, but Elena adjusted quite quickly. I always wondered how that couldn't be not weird for her. I also remember wondering how she could make the transition from friend to lover so easily. I won't lie – sometimes I wonder if Damon and I could ever be that, but it's just me wondering most of the time. I don't see him romantically, and that's one of the reasons I'm worried right now. If I don't see Damon romantically, how the hell am I supposed to pull this off tonight?

After about twenty minutes, I get out of the shower and dry myself off. Wrapped up in an oversized towel, I go into my room and see Damon in the middle of my bed.

"What the hell, Salvatore?" I ask him.

"What?"

"I can get dressed by myself, you know," I say, going to my dresser and getting out a lavender bra and panties set. I slip the panties on under my towel so I'm not showing anything, and turn around so I can put on the bra. I don't have any modesty when it comes to Damon; he's seen me in my bra and panties several times, just like I've seen him in his boxers. He's my friend; it's purely platonic.

"I just want to make sure you look good." He gets up and goes over to my closet. He pulls a tight, short, sleeveless crimson dress out of my closet and gave me a look, "You wear this?"

I shrug, "Sometimes. I bought it a couple of years ago to go clubbing with Elena and Bonnie."

He's giving me a look that I don't recognize, but after a couple of minutes, he snaps himself out of it, "Wear this," he says, handing the dress over.

"Salvatore, we've been over this already," I say, pulling the dress on. "I'm your pretend girlfriend, just for tonight only, remember? We may be trying to fool the old man, but that's all it is, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I don't like you like that, so you don't have to worry."

I shrug, pull a pair of black heels out of my shoe rack, and then do a model spin for him, "How do I look?"

"Hot," is his answer.

"Great," I say before going in to the bathroom to curl my hair and apply my makeup. He follows me in there and hops up on the bathroom counter.

"We should probably concoct a story to tell him," Damon says as I start to apply my makeup. "I mean, for all he knows, we're still just friends."

I shrug, "What do you want to tell him?"

He thinks for a moment before saying, "Well, we've been friends for a long time. Maybe we wanted to explore the possibility of being…something more?"

"When's the last time you brought a bimbo home, Damon?" I ask. "He usually knows about your conquests, and that would be a bad thing."

"It's been more than a week. I may be a ladies' man, but I'm thinking about settling down. You know, date one girl for a while."

"That's good," I say, "because it'll make our story more believable." I start to apply eyeliner, but gasp loudly as another thought occurred to me. He looked at me, "What's wrong?"

"You know what I just thought of?" I ask, and he shakes his head. "You're usually more, um, handsy with the girls you're with. Are you sure we should do this, Damon? I mean, you know how much I absolutely adore being pawed at," I said sarcastically. He laughed.

"You're a cop's daughter, Buttercup, and Mom has trained you well. Especially with the karate you've been studying since you were old enough to walk and the fact that you know how to break an arm without even breaking a sweat. Don't worry about that. I won't touch you if you don't want me to."

"You're just afraid of your girlfriend putting you in your place, Salvatore."

He shrugged, "Sure. You caught me." I just laughed.

-x-

I've been to enough of these country club parties to know that I absolutely hate them. Unlike my family, the Salvatores have money. They can afford the good things in life. Not having a lot of money has never bothered me. Even with Damon as my best friend, it doesn't really faze me. But as I'm walking into the country club tonight, my arm linked through Damon's, I feel…out of place. I don't belong there. I really shouldn't have come; I doubt that we'll be able to pull this off at all. Damon looks at me with a look on his face. He knows that I'm tensing up and he pulls me aside.

"Relax, Buttercup," he says to me, taking my face in his hands. At first I thought it'd be weird, but in actuality, it feels…oddly right. "You're overthinking things. Don't think. You're my best friend and you know that I love you more than anybody else in my life."

I smile, "I love you too, Damon." We've exchanged I-love-you's before; he's my best friend and I do love him. It's a different kind of feeling that in love, which we are definitely not. I smile slightly and then tense up as I see Guiseppe Salvatore approaching us. Damon leans down and whispers in my ear, "Relax, Caroline. We can do this."

"Father," Damon greets Guiseppe as he grabs my hand. I take a deep breath; it's show time.

"Damon," Guiseppe nods. He looks at me, "Evening, Caroline."

I smile in response.

"It's good to see you two. So, Son, where's your date?"

"You're looking at her," Damon responds. I hear Guiseppe sigh, and I know that he's not happy.

"I asked you to bring a date, not your best friend."

"She's my date, Father. Caroline and I have been dating in secret for a while. We don't want anybody know, so do you think you could keep it to yourself for a while?"

Guiseppe scoffed, "Yeah, I really don't believe that."

Without really knowing what Damon's about to do, he leans down and covers my lips with his. It feels so different; his lips so warm, so inviting, and for a moment I get lost in the kiss. It's so good that I forgot where I was, or the fact that I was around practically fifty people, or even the fact that I was kissing my best friend – someone I've known ever since I can remember, someone that was in my earliest memory. I just knew the fact that I really am enjoying this right now and I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Time seemed to stop until I heard Guiseppe clear this throat. I broke away from Damon, wiping my mouth, and Guiseppe just looked at us.

"It appears as though I was mistaken," he said, and I thought I saw Damon smirk. "Why don't you go find Elena and Stefan? I'm sure they'll want to talk to you."

As Guiseppe turned and left, I looked at Damon. This whole damn thing was awkward. I wasn't sure what to say to him, so I just shook my head and walked away. I saw Elena and Stefan over in the corner, keeping to themselves, so I went over to where they were and sat down beside Elena.

"You look beautiful tonight, 'Lena," I said to her. She was just showing now, being three months pregnant, and she was wearing a deep purple dress that had a flowy skirt.

"I look fat," Elena complained. "You're just saying that because you're biased."

"She's just a little emotional today," Stefan said from beside her. Elena glared at him.

"Tonight's supposed to be a happy occasion," I say to them, trying to avoid a fight. Sometimes I really hate how moody and bitchy Elena can be, even though she and I are pretty close. "So be happy."

"What was that over there with Damon that I saw?" Elena said, changing the subject. "Were you and Damon kissing?"

Stefan just watched me for a moment before I sighed and nodded, "Yes, but it's not what you think. We're not together. It's just an act."

"Ah," Stefan said. "To fool Father, huh? To get him to leave Damon alone?"

"Don't say that too loud, brother," Damon popped up behind me. He handed me a glass of champagne, and I gladly accepted, taking a sip. "Don't want anybody to overhear you."

-x-

I have no idea how much I had to drink that night, but I know that Damon was probably up there as well. In fact, he's no lightweight, so for him to get drunk, it takes a pretty fucking lot. At the end of the night, I called a taxi and he insisted to see me home, as the gentleman he was (most of the time). We got to my apartment and with me being incapacitated and not quite in control of myself, I opened my front door and then I leaned in and kissed him. Later, I would blame it on being so damn drunk, but right now, it's what I want. It had been over a year since I had had sex – or any real contact like that – and, to be honest, Damon is really hot. Even I can see that, although I'd only seen him as a brother. But as he's pushing me up against the wall and thoroughly kissing me, that thought is escaping me. I kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm, and while he's still pushing me up against that wall, he grinds into me. The friction is delicious and I want – no, I need more. My tongue makes its way into his mouth and our tongues dance together. I break the kiss so I can breathe and he's at my neck, nuzzling, kissing and nipping at it. It feels wonderful and then he's picking me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to my bedroom. He sits on the bed so I'm straddling his hips, and the kissing continues. His lips are so warm, so soft, and I seriously could do this forever.

I start to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take this further, and he shrugs it off and it lands on the floor. I run my hands up and down his chest – God, his skin feels so wonderful to me. I kiss my way down his jaw, down his neck, and he groans. The noise just turns me on even more and before I know it, he's lifting my dress up off of me. I shift a little so he can get it off and he just smirks at me. The making out continues as our clothes are strewn all over my bedroom floor and he lays down as I line him up with my center. I need him now, and without warning I sink down on him. I start riding him in earnest and he grabs my hips, gripping them so hard that I might have a bruise when he's finished. I throw my head back, reveling in the feeling of him filling me up, and he starts thrusting up into me. I am close, I can feel my orgasm approaching, and I think Damon can feel it, too. He reaches down and rubs my clit in slow circles and I moan loudly – if I wasn't drunk right now, I'd probably be embarrassed about how loud it was. He starts rubbing my clit faster and harder and I shudder as I come around him. He follows not long after, shooting his load into me. I sigh as my heartbeat starts to slow and I fall off of him and into the bed.

When my alarm goes off the next morning, I groan and, as I reach over to turn it off, I bump into a warm body. A warm body, naked in my bed. I blink a few times, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes and then I look to see who it was – and I freeze. Damon. Everything that happened last night comes flooding back and I groan. I had sex with my totally platonic, very best friend. And I'm totally and utterly fucked.