Disclaimer: The CW and L.J Smith own TVD. What you don't recognize is mine.

Selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure- Jane Austen.

Guilty pleasures. We all have them. We enjoy them in the privacy of our homes, behind locked doors, away from the judging eyes of the world. I have a few like the rest of them. Don't tell anyone but I'm a sucker for romantic comedies. And Glee. And Nicholas Sparks.

Sue me, bitches.

But the biggest pleasure that fills me with guilt is a certain raven haired man and his provocative lips. Fantastic lips that make my toes curl and eyes roll back. I shivered as he nibbled my earlobe.

"My phone," I breathed out.

Damon dropped a trail of kisses down my neck, sucking on the skin lightly. "Yeah, it rings," he mumbled, voice muffled. The persistent singing-voice of Madonna was nagging me. Apparently I only had four minutes to save the world. Reaching out to my bedside table for the offending object, Damon licked my collarbone, making me gasp in mixture of surprise and pleasure.

"I've to pick...it...uhn!" In one fluid motion, Damon grabbed my roaming hand and flipped us around.

"Don't," he told me as I straddled him and he gripped my hips tightly. "It will only ruin this." His cool fingers walked up on my bare arms. "I want to keep you to myself."

That was followed by The Look. It was heated, it was smoldering, it was pure sex. It set my insides on fire. Dipping my head, I captured his lips and parted them, exploring his mouth. There was nothing dignified about this kiss. Strictly rated R. Damon thrust his hips, causing me to moan deliciously against his lips. I followed his rhythm, my hands tracing the contours of his perfectly sculptured chest.

Man, could this guy drive me nuts.

The phone stopped ringing and started up again. Growling, I made a move for it but Damon intercepted, staring at the screen.

"What?" I asked, seeing his frown. "Who's it?"

"Elena."

"Oh." He looked into my eyes, torn between taking the call or continuing. I didn't like the hesitation. Seconds ago he wanted to shut out the world and now, because Elena called, he actually contemplated picking it up.

"Maybe we should -"

I crashed my lips against his, cutting off his words. Grinding against him, I plucked the phone out of his hand easily and tossed it aside. Two seconds later, he had me pinned underneath his body, his tongue licking the pulse point on my neck, Elena forgotten.

I was vaguely aware of my crazy antics. I was being super slutty but fuck it, it's Damon Salvatore. And yes, Elena loved Stefan but I'd be stupid not to know that Damon held a torch for her. If he was in my bed, I'd make sure that I was the only woman in his mind.

He smacked sloppy kisses behind my ears, my neck, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts. When the thin material of my tank top got in his way, he literally ripped it down the middle, leaving me in nothing but bra and boy short.

"You're crazy," I laughed breathlessly. "You're an animal. You need to be locked up."

Damon flung the tattered material across the room and grinned in appreciation. "And you are hot."

The retort died in my throat and out came a shameless moan when he began to pepper my stomach with wet kisses. And bites. I wouldn't wear a bikini for a long time if he kept it up.

I ran my fingers through his silky hair and involuntarily, my body jerked and arched towards him when his tongue set a trail of blazing flame. Damon fluidly slipped between my thighs and caressed them. I was in heaven. Damon was heaven. Damon was hell. He was the most pleasurable pain.

My heart thumped loudly as he slowly, deliberately undid the strings of my waistband. I let out a shuddering breath and when our eyes locked, I felt like I might spontaneously combust. Each and every nerve in my body was in tune with his touches.

Eyes still on me, he pressed a kiss to my exposed hip bone.

"Damon," I sighed, closing my eyes.

"Hm?"

"Wha...are we..doin'?"

"Dunno."

"Maybe we sh-should stop before we-"

"Do you like it?" He leaned forward, every inch of his body flushed against mine. He nuzzled my neck. "Do you like it? Because I do."

I flushed brightly, feeling his desire. "Throw caution to the wind, Shortie." He kissed me deeply. "Let's celebrate."

I chuckled. "Celebrate what?"

Damon shrugged, blue eyes twinkling. "I don't know. Anything and everything. Hunger relief. Cure for cancer. Hell, even world peace."

I cupped his cheek and brushed the pad of my thumb over his high cheekbones. "You do realize none of the causes you stated actually happened."

"Exactly." Wiggling eyebrows. "But if we work hard, seven days a week, 365 days a year, we'll bound to have a break-through."

"Your reasoning is crap."

"But my love-making abilities are legendary." He thrust against me, earning him a moan. "I'll ruin other men for you."

And I didn't doubt him at all.

Just as I pulled him down for another breathtaking kiss, the doorbell rang. Groaning, I fell back in bed. Damon wasn't happy either.

"We should ignore it," he stated. The ringing became insistent. Knocking joined the tempo too.

"What the hell?" I sat up and pushed Damon off. "It's as if the whole fucking world is conspiring against us."

Damon tossed me his silk button-up shirt. "I really think they are. Wouldn't want the big, bad wolf corrupting the not-so innocent virgin. It's a joke in cosmic level."

I gave him a strained smile and I wore his shirt. Cosmic joke since I really wasn't virgin. Damon was already in the hallway, opening the front door. I took a whiff, relishing the musky smell of expensive cologne and strong shampoo.

"Can I help you?" Damon's voice floated to the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I heard Angela snap.

Oh shit.

I rushed out, wondering just how I'd clear up this mess.

The thing about guilty pleasures, it's best when it's kept a secret.

Damon's howl of pain propelled me forward. He was writhing on the floor, shirtless and cradling his head.

"Stop it!" I yelled at Angela. She gave me an appraising look before sending a glare in Damon's direction.

"I saw a vampire, I fried his brain." She eyeballed Damon shamelessly while he got to his feet and leaned against the wall for support. "It was a reflex reaction."

"Shortie, what kinda company do you keep?"

"I could ask the same thing," Angela muttered before sweeping past us into the living room. "A vampire foolish enough to enter the home of the slayers of his kind."

I rolled my eyes and closed the door. "He's a friend."

I entered the room, Damon in tow. Angela sat down and crossed her legs. "With benefits from where I stand."

I didn't bother to dignify that with a response. Instead, I crossed my arms and stared hard at the lady. "Is there a reason why you came here?"

"Do I have to have a reason to drop by?"

"What do you want?"

"Why do you think I want something, Charlie?"

"Can you please stop answering my questions with more questions?"

Her gaze flicked to the silent figure in the corner questioningly. "It's alright. You can talk in front of him. He knows everything."

Not everything, everything. Last night, after his surprise visit, I filled him in, downsizing and omitting a few. Like the Jake Sullivan incident, I simply told him that I was pushed around. And for the punk messenger vampire incident, I didn't include that part. Damon was already on edge, his jaws set tightly and eyes hard. Besides, the bitch was taken care of. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Angela took out a cigarette. Damon's eyebrows rose.

"What the hell were you thinking," she began. "Going to the Sullivans by yourself?"

"That's what I would like to know," Damon added.

"How the hell do you know that?" I asked Angela, really curious.

"Vinnie told me."

"Who told Vinnie?"

"Pulaski."

I blinked. "So...Pulaski was following me? Then why didn't he help me when I needed it?"

Angela took a long drag and blew out the smoke. "Oh, Pulaksi wasn't following you dear. No. He got intel from his snitch. Had one planted right there in the heart of the Tavern."

I flashed back to the dark room, filled with vampires and the blood and sex. I shuddered and hugged myself. Damon was beside me in an instant, his palm steady against the small of my back. Angela watched us with a cocked head.

"You know, I get that your parents were hippies and raised you to be liberal minded, but don't you think you're taking this a little too far." She cut her eyes to the almost nonexistent space between Damon and I. "Hanging around vampires and sleeping with them. I know Jessica and Gary set the bar high with their interracial love but, interspecies...now that's just weird. Which coming from me is rich, since I'm into all kinda weird kinky shit."

I scoffed in disbelief, words escaping me. Angela was blunt, a trait admired in her. I had forgotten that. Damon wrapped his arm around my waist tightly and said, "Our sex doesn't concern you, Witch."

Angela wasn't fazed. "You're right. It doesn't. But you know what concerns me. Charlie does. I've known this squirt since she was a baby. And I'll be damned if some vampire starts using her as his own personal toy." Her eyes hardened around the corner and for the first time I saw what my mom meant when she said that Angela was a wise and strong woman. This old lady in front of me wasn't the perverted, weird neighbor who made coffee cakes on Sundays and brought them over to us. No, this was an old lady with weathered eyes who has crammed more life experiences than the rest of her peers. "Hurt her in any way and I'll skewer you like kebab."

Damon growled. "I'd like to see you -"

"Okay!" I yelled between them. "Time out. Phew. Did this get weird really fast or what? Angela, I can take care of myself and Damon is not the enemy. In fact, he saved my ass more than once."

"Doesn't mean you start fucking-"

"AND!" I raised my voice. "Mom's met him. Fried his brain. Twice. Staked him and also gutted him like fish." It seemed as if it happened a lifetime ago. "Bottom line: Mom approves."

Angela wasn't sold. "What about your dad?"

That shut me up real good. Guilty. I burned brightly in indignation. I felt small, like a child chided for bad behavior. Damon tensed.

"He doesn't get a vote," he snapped. "He isn't here."

My hackles rose. "Dad will understand." I glared at Angela. "If you're done pissing me off, I suggest you step out."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Time to change the subject." She stubbed out the cigarette on the table. I hissed in irritation. She pretended not to notice. "Let's get back to the reason why you paid the local mob a visit."

Damon played with my curls. "My father was last seen there."

"I knew that."

"You knew!" I repeated accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't ask."

"You could've spared her the trauma," Damon said in a tight voice.

She waved a hand away dismissively, as if it was no biggie. "What's life without a little adventure."

"I had my fair share," I mumbled. "Anyway, I just wanted to check out the place, ask around if they've seen him but it went downhill from that. Apparently, my reputation exceeds me."

Angela steepled her fingers. "Actually, Gary was last spotted in Oregon."

I stood still for a while, staring at her. She stared back and smiled softly. "Your mother told me."

An irrational rage swept through me and in that moment, I hated mom. Hated her for leaving me alone to swim through all the lies, secrets and questions. I tugged myself free from Damon's hold and slumped down on the couch, one thought swirling in my mind.

Oregon.

What the hell was in Oregon?

"When was that?"

"Half a year ago."

Oh God. I let my head drop in my hands and took in deep breaths. Half a year ago. Half a year ago was when mom bubble wrapped my life and threw me at Jenna. She was chasing after Dad. And she lied to me.

"I really think you should leave," Damon spoke, the threat barely veiled. "You're starting to piss me off."

"No," I croaked and sat up straighter. I blinked the tears away. "What else? Any more surprises left? Because I'm all ready. I swear, I won't even flinch."

Angela brow creased and she stood up to take a seat beside me. With bony fingers, she brushed back my hair tenderly. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I wish she took my advice and left you here."

I wish that too, sometimes.

"Who..who spotted him in Oregon?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "Jonathan Gilbert."

I couldn't help it, I balked and stared at her in disbelief. "No."

"I'm sorry."

"No." I shook my head. "You don't understand. Uncle Jon was living under our roof for weeks. Weeks. He sat across from at the dining table." I gasped for air. "He looked me in the eye and told me he had no idea where Dad was."

"Which just proves what a bastard he is," Damon offered comfortingly.

"Everyone has been lying to me. Mom. Dad. Uncle Jon." Angela pulled me to her chest and I closed my eyes, trembling with unshed tears and simmering rage. Fisting my hands, I focused on the pain in my palms as my nails drew blood.

"They were trying to protect you," she whispered softly. "They thought they were doing you a favor."

"By dying on me while the other abandoned me!"

"Your father hasn't abandoned you, Charlie. He'd never do that."

"Yeah." I drown down a hysterical sob. "I thought so too."

She rocked me in a comforting rhythm but I pulled away. "Anything else?"

"Charlie-"

"Anything else?" I demanded.

Angela shook her head. "That's all I know."

"Fine." I chewed on my lower lip. "I'd like to be alone now, please."

"Of course." She got to her feet and kissed my forehead. Without a word, she let herself out. I laid down on the couch, curling into myself.

Damon sat down on the edge of the coffee table and watched me. He didn't say anything.

"Do you know how long I've been in Mystic Falls?" I asked him after few minutes of silence.

"A while."

"Six months. Exactly six months." My vision blurred. "My mom left me in Mystic Falls so she could bring dad back. But she couldn't."

"Maybe," Damon said in a soft voice. "She didn't find him."

"Or maybe he didn't want to come back. She tried to convince me that he was dead, Damon. I'm sure she met him and he just...told her to fuck off."

"Does that sound like your father?"

I shook my head, tears spilling over and soaking the cushions. "No, it doesn't." I gasped for air. "But I don't know what he sounds like anymore. I can't remember his voice. My own father and I can't even remember his voice. And if it weren't for the photos, I'd probably forget his face too."

"Thank God for Kodak, then."

"Dad has been gone for over a year. Do you know what that means?"

Damon frowned and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I dropped a kiss on his palm absent-mindedly. "It means he'd been alive six months prior to his sighting. Why would he make us suffer like that? Why would he make us think he was dead?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and worked on calming myself. Damon picked me up effortlessly and took me to bed. He crawled in and held me closer. I sniffed and wiped at my face with the sleeves of his shirt. His expensive shirt.

I thought of the first time I met Damon, at the Grille. Fresh from New York, disliking the small town and then he walked in, cocksure and swaggering as if he owned the world. I was certain he'd been the most beautiful man I've ever seen. And then he was everywhere. At school, in my house, in my room. Damon had somehow managed to weave his existence into mine and when I thought about life, I couldn't imagine one without him.

I didn't want to imagine.

I tilted my head and gazed into his eyes of mesmerizing blue.

"What are you thinking about?" he wanted to know.

That I'm positively falling for you. Falling for you hard.

It scared me to death. Loving Damon. Loving a vampire. I've seen what it did to him. What he became because of the passion that consumed him. I didn't want that for me. I didn't want to be so broken that it threw me off the rails.

But honestly, what I was utterly terrified of, was rejection. I was afraid that when I put myself out there, he'd push me away and there was no coming back from that. Besides, this thing we had going, this weird, needy relationship, was at its start. Perhaps there was magic in New York and once we get back to Mystic Falls things will return to their regularly schedule snark and sarcastic barbs. I didn't want to risk it.

"I think I'm selfish," I said softly, avoiding his gaze.

"How so?"

"I want to have everything. This normal life, here in Staten Island where my biggest worry is whether I'd get back home in time to catch the latest episode of Breaking Bad. But I also want to have my life in Mystic Falls. I want to forget about all things supernatural and yet remember, because the knowledge of their existence makes me scared and makes me feel more secure and in control. I want to fight along side you yet not get caught up in it and miss experiencing all the ordinary teenage drama."

I propped my head on my palm and faced the one constant solid person I've had since my life spiraled out control. "I want my mother to be alive and and yet, I want to live with her, even though she practically sacrificed herself for me. I want everything and it makes me sick. I'm a walking, living, breathing contradiction."

Damon had a thoughtful expression on his face. I waited and watched him go through several emotions before he said, "That's normal, Shortie. It's a classic case of the grass is greener on the other side syndrome. It's also what makes you human. Selfishness is in the core of all of us and when you think about it, a lot of other emotions stem from being selfish. You don't want to be alone, so you seek out other companions. You love someone..." My heart skipped a beat and swallowed hard. "When you love someone, they're a part of you. They're yours. They belong to you and you fight for them, partly because of the thought of losing them fucks you up six ways to Sunday but mostly because it's yours and you want them."

Hesitantly, I reached for his hand and intertwined our fingers.

Damon was staring at our hand, but not seeing it. "Loneliness, love, lust, possessiveness, sympathy...they are all simply other forms of selfishness." He brought our clasped hands to his lips and kissed my fingers. "And it's okay to be selfish once in a while. After all, I wouldn't have gotten to be this devilishly handsome eternal stud if I wasn't selfish."

I laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Thank you."

Damon frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For being selfishness enough to be here and tell me it's okay to feel this way."

He grinned, the cheeky one I was accustomed to. "My pleasure. But you'll repay. Acceptable currency is ...orgasms."

I laughed out loud, punching him in the chest and snuggled closer to him. "You gotta invest, Mr. Salvatore. Until then, it's just you and your hand."

A/N: So what do you think? This is was a little fluffy/angsty chapter. Perfectly good reason why Damon seemed out character. Totally on purpose. I wanted Charlie to see another side of him, a side only she's able to bring out in him. Also, I'd like to hear your thoughts on their relationship. Is it moving too fast? The last thing I want is to make it unbelievable in anyway. Piperson9708's review made me think. Am I rushing this? Coz I honestly don't think so. Feedback babes.

And Charlie. I never actually asked any of the readers what your thoughts are. I try hard to make her as realistic as possible. If she, in your opinion a three dimensional character and if not, suggestions on how to get her to grow as a characters.

As always, big KISSES to all of you who read and reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You guys are my inspiration. So type away at the square box down below. It gives Klaus aneurysm.