A/N: Oh look, here's a frightening change of tradition... author's notes at the start instead of the end?! Shocking! Well hello everyone, long time no see and immense apologies that I always seem to be handing out to you (but they are geniune, I swear). I know exactly where I want this story to be going but I've had dreadful writer's block recently which completely sucks, but in the past few dsays I have done a lot of tinkering and editing and playing about... So hopefully, I will have a lot more to give you within a short space of time.

Also, some of you have questions but you choose to review as guests, which means I find it a lot harder to answer. If you have some things you are confused about please, please leave some way I can contact you and I'd be more than happy to oblige! Without further ado, I give you the sixth chapter. Praying you enjoy lots of Damon and Elena interaction! ;-).

WE ARE YOURS
Chapter Six
SADDLE SOAP

"That was where the true introductions were made,
frighteningly honest, a real serenade."

Drenched in scarlet, chest heaving, the boy opened his mouth to scream. But it was not the shrill voice of a child that reverberated through the space. It was a different scream entirely, a roar that was guttural with a resounding sense of painful self-loathing, riddled with agony and terror. The scream belonged to Elena and it happened as her hands stretched out before her. As easily as breathing, she twisted the boy's head off at the neck.

10 HOURS EARLIER

Remorsefully, Elena swiped at the damp earth with her bare hands, wincing as the mud clung to the small spaces beneath her fingernails. But, she told herself miserably, dirt under her nails was a small price to pay for the life she had just taken.

Elena had joined the hunting party but split away from the group as soon as the opportunity had presented itself. She had tracked the musky scent of a lonesome rabbit hopping through the undergrowth, just east of Alaric's vampire-infested home. When she had caught up with creature (too effortlessly and far too fast) it was with regret that Elena had pounced on it. She had no desire to allow the other vampires to see the way tears dropped from her eyes as she gorged herself on something so small and helpless, nor did she want them be aware of her mournful after-hunt ritual, where she would bury the poor and unfortunate creature in a grave, crudely dug by her own hands.

The day Elena had discovered her vampirism, she knew that it would be the undead-death of her. All her life, she had been petrified of spiders and hated everything about them from their unnatural eight eyes, to their spindly legs and deformed looking bodies, but still, she had been unable to cope whenever her brother had rescued her from them by brutally squashing them. She'd even cried several times in her younger years. If she had been riddled with regrets about the death of spiders of all things, she knew as surely as she would catch fire in direct sunlight, that she would not be able to handle being a predator that stole other beings life forces in order to sustain their own.

"There you are." Alarmed, Elena leapt to her feet, glaring at the person who had intruded on her bitter burial service. Sharp blue eyes burnt holes through the dark and Elena felt her cheeks redden as those unmistakeable eyes dropped downwards to the half dug grave her feet.

"Oh for shit's sake," Damon Salvatore groaned, his head shaking vigorously from side to side. "I knew you were good, but this? This is ridiculous." He sighed as he gestured off handedly at the broken bodied rabbit on the floor, cold and unmoving. "You, Miss Gillert, are a vampire. A vampire is a predator. It's natural for you to kill!"

"Gilbert!" Elena snapped furiously, scuffing purposefully into Damon's shoulder despite their being loads of room for her to get past him. "And there is nothing natural about supernatural murderers!" She ended with a hiss, storming away from him.

A strong hand caught her wrist before she'd made even five long strides away from Damon. The hand yanked her to a halt. By her arm, she was twisted in a painful one hundred and eighty degree spin, rooted to the spot and given no choice but to face him. Don't look in his eyes! She screamed at herself inwardly, but she found herself strangely powerless to their allure. "I'm not going to argue with you about matters of morality," he spat the word like it was disgusting, his face contorting as if it had left a putrid after-taste in his mouth. "But I need you to accompany me somewhere. And no, that isn't a choice."

She felt it swathe her and drown her. For a second, all she knew was the command, her free will siphoned from her body. It was excruiating to experience the pain of something that is vital to a human as breathing being torn mercilessly away. Breathing raggedly, she wanted to scratch his stupid face, to hiss and spit and scream the word "NO!". Of course, she could still say that word, but it would be fruitless, there would be no conviction behind it, no power to act on her desire. As weak and as useless as an infant, Elena trailed behind him, dragging her feet as she went.

"Your resistance is very cute," Damon quipped, smirking at her over his shoulder. "You look like an overgrown, adorable four year old."

Elena ignored the sarcastic comment, deciding that he could strip her of her free will, but never of her dignity. She stared at his back, covered by an inordinately expensive shirt and childishly wished that she could rip his out with just the power of her eyes alone. Her happy dreaming of his body writhing in pain before his veins ran dry leaving his body rigi with a grey hue was interrupted with an offensively loud ring tone. The merry tune penetrated the delicate serenity of the forest. "Yes Ric, I've got her. Of course I was nice. What do you take me for? Some kind of monster? Wait - don't answer that. No, buddy. You need to stay here and hold the fort. I've got this handled."

Damon clicked the phone off, no doubtedly cutting off his friend mid-sentence. Without a word to Elena, he sprung forward continuing on his way whilst humming a soft tune. For some reason, Damon appeared to be in particularly high spirits, an observation which only served to concern Elena further. The black haired vampire was positively psychotic... it was not omforting to be near him when he was so distracted.

They did not walk through the Rest Spot, but tracked around it, an annoyingly longer route. Eventually, Damon ground to a halt in the parking lot, empty except for two cars. One was a black Range Rover, solidly huge and built like a small tank. The other was a faded blue soft-top, vintage Camaro. Surprising her, Damon nudged her toward the small sports car instead of the huge vehicle. Once inside, he dropped a leather jacket onto her lap.

"What is this?" Elena asked, eyeing the jacket and then the vampire suspiciously.

"Why Elena, I'm surprised at you!" Damon's eyes widened comically. "That's a leather jacket."

Rolling her eyes, Elena responded stoically. "But I'm not cold." She picked it off of her legs, ready to pitch it onto the back seat, but Damon's expression had shifted entirely. No longer teasing, his blue eyes held a dangerous hypnotic gleam.

"It's not for if you get cold, Miss Gilbert," Damon told her, his voice low and menacing. "It's for if this escapade is unsuccessful and we end up coming back in broad daylight. Means you might need to cover up, or you're gonna get a little sunburnt." Elena's panicked baulk only made his grin wider.

Peeved at Damon's obvious amusement at her unease, Elena made a show of scrunching the expensive jacket up into a mishapen ball and shoving it roughly into the footwell. There, she lifted her feet, still muddy from the forest hunt and planted them firmly on top. Smiling sweetly, she turned to Damon and said: "So it's close enough for me to reach quickly, but not irritating me by being on my lap."

Satisfied by the irked look that crossed Damon's eyes, Elena settled back into the seat. She took a moment to admire the car. The interior was perfectly taken care of, the cream leather upholstery entirely unmarred. When he inserted the keys into the ignition, the engine purred to life without a single hiccup. She had seen so many great vintage cars go to men with pockets that were too deep and egos that were entirely too superficial to understand that care that should go into them. Apparently, if the smell of saddle soap that was prominent on the leather seats was anything to go by, he understood perfectly well how to take care of such an exquisite car.

"So where are we going?" Elena asked, pressing him for more details. If there was anything she hated, it was heading into something and finding herself shorthanded. Damon's whimsical mood did nothing to relax her, but instead made her more concerned by the fact that she was clueless as to where she was heading. Damon also took delight in testing his followers - perhaps he was testing her then, waiting for her ask all the right questions.

"You sure are nosey," Damon said breezily, leaning down to fiddle with the dials on the radio. Rock music blared out of the delicate speaker system, loud and obnoxious. Cringing, Elena grimaced, turning away from the noise. Frowning and muttering obscenities under his breath, Damon quickly altered the radio station so soothing classical tones were harmoniously playing through the car. "Not one for rock music, huh?" He asked, a half smile sliding across his handsome features.

"I actually like rock music," Elena responded pointedly. "I was just feeling in pain for those speakers - this is the original radio system, right? If you had blown those speakers in my presence, I would have been insulted."

"Car girl... interesting. Did your daddy teach you all there was to know?"

"Nope, my boyfriend. He was an avid car enthusiast." Elena scrutinized Damon, confused by the pinched flare that tightened his features. She was about to ask him whatever the hell the matter was when she caught herself. She hadn't been dragged into a car (a -vintage-Camaro, of all the things!) to make small talk and speak pleasantly. He had hauled her along with him for a reason, just like he had declared her as his right hand woman for a reason. Any note of warmth evaporated from Elena's tone. "Where are we going?"

"Stern, business-like. I like it!" Damon spun the wheel, the car expertly drifting around a sharp left turn. "We are going to visit some of acquaintences of mine."

"For..." Elena sighed, sick of having to hound him for details.

"For you to have one of these little trinkets," Damon lifted his hand off the wheel, shaking a large lapis-lazuli ring at her.

Elena wrinkled her nose at it. It was old and cracked. "It's ugly."

"It's a family heirloom." Damon snapped, affronted by the insult. "But if you don't want to be able to walk in the daylight, then by all means, I'll just turn around and head back the way I came." Damon slowed the car down. Elena knew the threat wasn't a bluff.

"No!" She yelped, shaking her head vigorously. "I would love to live in the light again!" If there has been anything about humanity Elena had missed, it is having the warm sun on her face. Being able to stare up at white fluffy clouds and decipher the shapes and images they made, sat on a picnic blanket on a lush green lawn with a book on her lap. The opportunity to walk in the day... it would almost make her feel normal.

"I could go home," she whispered the words in wonder, not caring that she had spoken her private thoughts aloud in the presence of someone as openly despicable as Damon Salvatore. Up ahead on the road, a sprawling mansion sidled into view. Ramshackle and enormous, Elena was captivated by it's gothic beauty. Under the twinkling stars and moonlight, it looked scenic and beautiful, just like it belonged there.

"You could go home," Damon agreed as he pulled into the driveway. "Where is home for you?"

"Mystic Falls."