Chapter Sixteen: Maybe If You and I Had Met First …

Drenched in heat. Wetness all around. Wicked suction, driving him mad.

His eyes opened slowly in stunned amazement. The ceiling. Of his room. He was on his back in bed. And he was naked. He tucked his chin to gaze down the length of his body and saw a dark head bent over his waist, pink lips wrapped around his erection.

Elena.

It was a heart-stopping vision that could only have come from his most fervent fantasies, a vision he could scarcely credit, despite the evidence of his senses, and not just because he wasn't fully conscious yet.

Another moment went by before he could make words. "Jesus," he eventually managed to get out.

Realizing he was awake, she glanced up and smiled at him without slowing down, humming a hello. His head fell back on the pillow. "Fuck."

Did she have even the slightest idea what she was doing to him? It was indescribable. Sensation overwhelmed him as lips and tongue slid over rigid, almost painfully swollen tissues, hands pumping in perfect complement. A powerful shudder ran through his body, all the way to the base of his spine.

His fingers clenched, balled up fistfuls of the bed sheet. Every muscle tensed. The tendons in his neck and chest drew tight like steel cables. His hips bowed off the mattress just a little. Something ripped – the sheets.

He inhaled deeply, which granted him the breath but, alas, not the wherewithal to warn her first.

Not that it seemed to matter as she neither flinched nor lost a single drop when he groaned, low and tortured, coming in fierce spurts against the back of her throat.

Blood roared in his ears, and his view of the ceiling faded to black.

His vision returned, little by little, his awareness even more slowly. Elena was apparently through sucking his soul out of his body, and he watched as she slid up and stretched herself out next to him, fitting there precisely like she'd been made to fit him. She rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, palm cupping the muscle above his heart.

Her unrestrained hair settled over both of them like a gloriously tangled blanket, the chocolate locks gleaming in the morning sunlight, glossy with hints of bronze and amber.

Her lavender scent filled his nose, winding through him like a drug. His very favorite drug. He breathed her in deeper and didn't resist the impulse to run his fingers through her hair, sifting through the dark silk, fingering each individual strand in order to verify that she was indeed real and not a mere figment of his imagination, as he secretly feared. This all still felt like a dream. Too good to be real. He kept waiting for reality to viciously intrude.

"Good morning." No small trace of feminine triumph laced Elena's voice.

"Yes, yes, it is," he agreed. He found himself in a very agreeable mood.

Small toes stroked down his calf. "Thank you."

Uh … was she serious?"For what?"

"For last night."

Last night. Ah, yes. It all came back to him. Last night. A night of pure sensual indulgence between him and Elena. He'd taken her so many times and so thoroughly she'd have been tender inside for days without his healing blood.

There was still a tray of fruit, cheese, and chocolate at the foot of the bed, wet towels and sudsy water sloshed all over the bathroom, and clothing and bedding strewn about the room like a tornado had blown through.

"What if I'm the one who should be thanking you?" His voice was low and suggestive.

"Oh, you still can." Her voice was low and suggestive right back. "We have time."

She was teasing him. She sounded happy. Happy to be with him. Happy because he'd made her that way. Everything he'd suffered, everything he would suffer … it was all worth it for this one shiny moment in time.

He smiled. "So, it's safe to assume you had a good time, then?"

"You already know the answer to that," she scolded, still playful. "You were there."

He turned so his lips brushed her forehead when he spoke. "Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it."

She rewarded his persistence with an affectionate pinch. Thank god he didn't wake up. "Yes," she grumbled, "you smug jerk, I had a good time. I had a freaking amazing time."

"Freaking amazing, huh?"

She pinched him again, a little more sharply.

"Ouch," he said mildly, still combing his fingers through her soft hair. "Bad dreams?"

"Not one."

"Hate to say I told you so, but …."

"No, you don't." She laughed. "You love saying it."

He tucked the piece of hair he'd been fingering behind her ear. A dark and charming smirk slanted his mouth. "You know me so very well."

As he continued stroking her hair, she ran a fingernail around his nipple in drowsy circles. There was silence for a while. Languid, peaceful silence.

Until: "I didn't know it would be like this with you."

When she didn't say anything else, he frowned. "I'm going to need you to elaborate."

She bit her lip, debating how to explain. "I was expecting things between us to be intense and – and sexual, obviously." A pretty shade of pink bloomed on her cheeks.

"Obviously," he teasingly agreed.

Pink deepened to scarlet, the crests of her cheeks blazing with color. "But I – I guess I wasn't expecting it to also be so … nice."

Dark eyebrows shot way, way up. "Nice? Really? Definitely not the word I would use to describe anything we did together last night." He paused, then added, "Or this morning."

"No, maybe not," she said, "but this has still been nice." Her hand flattened over his chest, a heated brand on his bare skin. "I like being with you like this."

Despite his teasing, he knew exactly what she was trying to say. The level of casual intimacy and easy familiarity developing between them was very real and very satisfying. And not something he'd ever experienced with another woman.

He couldn't help imagining what it would be like to have her with him like this, happy, all her desires sated, every day, all the time, and he wanted that life, wanted her, more than he'd ever thought it was possible to want anything. And he felt that way as a vampire who dealt constantly with a raging, incurable lust for human blood.

He settled his hand atop hers, holding them both firmly in place over his heart. "I like being with you like this, too. That's why we should do it again as soon as possible."

She smiled. "Okay, but it's your turn to come up with an excuse that gets Caroline out of the house for the night. Ever since she and Tyler broke up, it's like she's put all her energy into becoming the most hyper-vigilant, overprotective best friend she can be. Which can be a little stifling for the rest of us."

He opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. Yikes.

She pressed closer to him. "I wish we never had to leave. We should just unplug the clock and stay right here forever."

"Don't tempt me." He wasn't even sort of joking. If he had his way, he'd keep her locked in here with him, night and day, for weeks, months. He'd keep her with him forever.

Her lips formed a moue of disappointment. "But I can't. I have to go."

"At least stay a little longer." He kissed the tip of her adorable little nose. "Let me make you breakfast. French toast, coffee, bacon. Whatever you want."

Her responding smile was pure sunshine. "Mmm, okay, you convinced me."

Good, he wasn't ready for her to leave yet. He sealed his mouth over hers, tasted her sweetness, tasted a hint of his own essence there, as well. She seemed initially shy – "Morning breath. So not sexy," she whispered – but he simply informed her he hadn't even noticed, which was true, and kissed her again, harder. Deeper. Rougher.

He rolled so that she ended up beneath him, cradling him in the vee of her thighs. She was so lusciously soft and feminine. Lust simmered in his blood, electric like summer lightning.

"My turn."

"Your turn?" She sounded dazed. Her lips were a bruised rose petal pink. "To what?"

His gaze grew hooded, dark with erotic promise. "I still need to show you the immense size of my … gratitude."

Her appreciative laughter turned to a gasp as he skimmed down her body, feathering kisses along every delectable curve, hot kisses that made her stomach quiver and her toes curl.

When he finally reached the sweet peak between her legs, her hips came up off the mattress, lifting high, seeking more. Her desire perfumed the air, so rich and potent it was already a taste on his tongue, peaches dipped in honey tempting him to bite. His mouth watered. How could he resist?

He couldn't. A shallow lick through the cream of her arousal, flicking, probing with erotic skill. Retreating too soon, if her protesting moan was any gage.

He ignored her and spread her legs wider, nuzzling the length of her thigh, the light stubble on his chin rasping over smooth, gorgeously tan skin. In a mood to tease, he did it slowly, and very, very gently. He wanted to torment her, just a little, the way she always tormented him.

"Oh," she breathed, tunneling her fingers through his hair, "that feels really nice."

There was that word nice again. "You're getting a thesaurus for your birthday," he rumbled darkly.

More giggles from her and more kisses on her thigh from him. He was intensely aware of the blood in her veins, hot and fresh, flushing her skin, the rapid beat throbbing against his lips, in perfect sync with the throbbing in his dick. It was a siren's call he had no desire to resist.

He followed the long line of her femoral vein, grazing with his teeth, tender love bites that made her squirm with pleasure and grab handfuls of his hair, tugging hard, nails digging in until his scalp bristled.

"I want to taste you, Elena." He easily remembered how passion would fire and flavor her blood. How she'd taste like liquid ambrosia, rich and sweet. How she'd taste like his, like she belonged to him.

"So do it already." Her grip on his hair tightened even more, and her hips rolled desperately, deliciously, shameless for more, inviting him to drink from her, to do anything he wished as long as he didn't stop.

Her willingness made him harder, made his eyes grow hot and red and his fangs lengthen, turning sharper than whetted steel, preparing to sink deep. Just one taste, that was all, and he'd be so careful, he wouldn't hurt her, he would never hurt her -

Knock, knock.

Who the f - Nope, definitely ignoring that.

Unfortunately, Elena was of a different mind. She immediately let go of his hair and attempted to sit up. Loosing a feral growl, he pounced, restraining her beneath him, pinning her into the mattress with his greater weight and ensuring that she would not be going anywhere.

She took in the sight of him, saw his monster, bared fangs and blood red eyes, and didn't flinch. "Say something!" she hissed in an urgent whisper.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her eyes widened incredulously when he still didn't respond. "What if it's important?"

He grimaced so hard he cut his bottom lip on a fang. Fucking seriously? Of all the goddamn times to … argh.

"If this isn't an emergency," he called out, face once again that of a devastatingly handsome, and extremely pissed off, young man, "I'm ripping out all of your internal organs one by one through your back with a rusty fish hook."

"I'm looking for Elena. Have you seen her?"

Blasted Jeremy Gilbert with his perfect timing, as usual. When the hell did he get here? Everyone was supposed to have cleared out last night, and they weren't expected back until later. Much later.

And of course Elena stiffened in alarm. Somehow, he just knew the mood had passed.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself not to sound like a total asshole. "How could I have seen her? Still very, very - "he rubbed his hardness against Elena's softness " - much asleep in here."

She made a soft sound, followed up with a smack to his shoulder. "Damon!"

"Ow, such violence."

"What?" Jeremy asked through the door.

"Nothing," Damon was quick to reply. "Is that all?"

To his great annoyance, it wasn't. "Bonnie and Lucy finally have everything they need to cast the spell, and Elena said she wanted to be there when they did, but I can't find her, and she isn't answering her phone. And Matt just dropped me off but he had to go to work, so I kind of need a ride, too."

Elena renewed her struggles to get free while also trying not to make any noise.

It was child's play to subdue her. "Okay, well, if I do see her, I'll be sure to pass the message along. As soon as I'm, you know, awake."

"Thanks." Jeremy walked away.

She waited until her brother was out of earshot before snapping, "Get off, Damon! Did you hear what Jeremy said?"

"Yes, I'm just ignoring it."

Her eyes flashed, though her struggles eased. "We need to go. Bonnie's ready to do her spell that'll bring us one step closer to stopping Klaus, which brings us one step closer to finding Stefan."

He relaxed his hold on her. "Don't you think we should at least finish what we were starting before we were so rudely interrupted?"

The sun must have disappeared behind a cloud, since for a brief moment, the room dimmed, became suddenly darker than before.

"I don't think we have time for that," she said.

His gaze dropped to her lips. A sexy smile was on his. "Then, I'd better do something to change your mind."

Slipping from his grasp before he could, she moved to the safety of the edge of the bed. "If I get back in bed with you, then I'll just end up staying here all day."

"I'm not seeing the problem?" He scooted closer, brushed a kiss over her hip bone. She looked down at him, nibbling her bottom lip. He continued kissing her, anywhere he could reach, her low back, the top half of her derriere.

Reaching out a hand, she stroked his hair, touched his cheek, his jaw, curled her fingers under his chin, coaxed him to raise his face to hers. She bent until her forehead touched his.

"You are an incorrigible horn dog." There was a smile in her voice.

"Yeah, but I'm your incorrigible horn dog."

She sat up, humor fading, and he realized his mistake. He wasn't her anything. Oh no, wait, incorrect. He was her friend.

"I have to be there for Bonnie," she said, "and I have to be there … for Stefan. I just … have to. Please tell me you understand."

He averted his gaze. A few unruly strands of raven hair tumbled over his forehead. "I do. You know I do."

"And we can't get caught again. It's bad enough Rebekah saw us. Now we just have to hope she doesn't tell anyone out of the goodness of her evil, catty heart."

"It'll be fine," he assured her softly.

With a sigh that revealed she didn't believe him, she stood and began the search for her clothes.

He was struck silent for a long moment at the sight of her so exquisitely naked. His heart even did a stutter step. He wasn't ready for her to go. He wanted her to stay, but what choice did he have? He couldn't keep her. She was only allowed to be a temporary sanctuary, a momentary reprieve from his bleak existence.

Suddenly filled with the eerie sensation that time was running out, a terrible impulse seized him, and he propped himself up on one elbow, covers low around his lean waist. "Can I ask you something?"

She froze in the middle of pulling her shirt off a lampshade. "About what?"

"About us." At the expression of pure panic that flashed across her face, he swiftly added, "I'll never bring it up again, I swear."

Having collected her shirt, she bent to retrieve her underwear from under the bed. Muffled from below, he heard, "Okay, I guess. Ask your question."

Unsure how to begin, he waited until she rose and was pulling on the clothes she'd managed to locate so far.

Finally, she asked, "Well?"

"Sorry, I …" He licked his lips and, in spite of every shred of self-preservation that screamed at him not to – don't rock the boat – he went on. "It's just … do you think that maybe if things had been different between us, if you and I had met first, that maybe … we might've … had a chance? Together? You and me?"

She seemed to stop breathing. Went completely still. Stared at him in silence, lips parted, eyebrows drawn, letting him twist and turn in a wretched wind of his own making while she groped for a reply. A wealth of emotions trembled in her eyes, emotions that were as mysterious to him now as they'd ever been.

God, even though it was so wrong of him, he wanted her to say yes so badly with every selfish and wicked bone in his body. Waiting for her answer was excruciating.

With a soft rush of air, she inhaled, chest rising. She turned her face away. "I don't know."

I don't know. He absorbed her words like a blast of white-hot pain to the chest. They struck with all the lethal accuracy of a well-aimed stake, tearing right through him, devastating him far more than they had any right to and reopening every old and unwitting wound this girl had ever dealt him. He was surprised he didn't start fatally bleeding out right in front of her.

She didn't know.

After everything, how could she not know?

Piercing, crippling disappointment. Banishing it back down, deep, deep down, was perhaps one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he did it.

His fault. He had no one to blame but himself. He should've known better than to ask such an inane question. Or to hope for a different answer.

And as usual, by asking, he'd only highlighted the many reasons why he didn't deserve Elena, and why his brother did. Because Stefan isn't a selfish piece of shit too weak to do the right thing by his brother and the girl he loves.

In only a shirt and panties, Elena came and sank down again on the edge of bed.

"Please don't be mad," she whispered, looking dismayed and confused. "I don't – I don't know what else I'm supposed to say."

"Gee, I don't know, here's a novel idea - the truth?" When hurt flashed across her face, he instantly regretted lashing out. He forced himself to rein his temper in, gentling his tone. "I'm not mad, Elena, really, I'm not." He had no right to be. But …. He pressed himself up to a sitting position. "I know you love Stefan, but you know how much I l- "

She scrambled to silence him, pressing her hand over his lips before he could finish. The look on her face was pale, scared. "You can't go there."

Right. He only got to go there when he was dying.

Swallowing, he pulled her hand away from his mouth and down to his lap. He rested the back of her hand on his thigh, spreading her fingers wide. So elegant and slender. Delicately wrought. Beautiful. Like everything else about her. His thumb traced the fine network of lines traversing her palm.

"You know how much I care about you, and you can't even tell me that in some hypothetical alternate universe, we might've maybe possibly ended up together." He struggled to conceal the sad resignation in his tone, as well as the hollow ache in his heart. "That maybe it's not always Stefan."

If he was any judge of body language, she was poised to bolt out the door. It didn't surprise him she'd rather physically flee than finish this conversation. It did hurt a little bit, though.

Incredibly, she stayed right where she was and let him continue to caress her hand, only shrugging in frustration. "If I say it, will it change anything?"

He sighed. "Not a damn thing." But it would mean everything. "It'd just be nice to hear. Out loud. Once."

She laid her head on his shoulder and intertwined their fingers, binding them together even more intimately. Her palm was soft and warm against his. "Yes." The word was said so quietly, he wasn't sure he'd really heard it. Then, she cleared her throat and said more loudly, "Yes. In another life, where things are different and you and I meet first, there's a very good chance we end up together."

He pressed his nose into the fragrant hair at her temple. "Do you think we're happy?"

She tightened her grip on his hand in response. "I know we are."

Clearly, she was still in love with Stefan, but he hadn't been lying. It was nice to hear her admit that she felt something, too, even if she didn't want to feel that way. That it wasn't just him. That he'd gotten under her skin and perhaps as a result wouldn't be so easily shaken off when the time came to leave him behind.

Seconds later, he felt wetness on his skin. Tears? Reaching up, he touched her face with an exploratory finger, lifted away the teardrop he found there on the slope of her cheek.

She raised her head, regarding him through a glimmering crescent of dark lashes. "I know I'm being selfish, and it probably feels like I'm just stringing you along, but Damon, I - "

"Shhh." Whatever it was, whatever else she was going to say, he didn't want to hear it. He didn't think he could bear it. Besides, what else was there to say? Her tears spoke quite eloquently enough. "You should get going." He smiled lightly to soften his words.

She blinked, looking startled. And so unbelievably beautiful it hurt.

"Go find Jeremy." His voice was embarrassingly hoarse. "He needs you right now. So does Bonnie."

Her jaw dropped, in seeming disbelief that he would just dismiss her, right in the middle of … whatever this moment was. She snapped her mouth shut. Swallowed and miraculously let it drop, just like that. "But … you're coming too, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be down in a little while. You go ahead," he urged again.

He finally prodded her into rising and dressing. She did so, in complete silence. Right before she left, she leaned down and brushed her mouth over his, rose petal lips pressing briefly, affectionately, enough to cause a faint smile to manifest itself on his face. A smile that remained fixed in place only until the door closed behind her and he was alone.


It was almost noon by the time Damon walked up to the door of Ric's apartment. Suspecting his friend was still abed, even at this hour, he knocked loudly enough to wake the dead. Or, at the very least, the undead. Then he stepped back and waited, hoping that Ric, who'd been ignoring his calls and texts, would answer.

Fortunately, Ric did appear at the door, with bloodshot eyes, looking hungover and morose in boxers and a threadbare brown robe. As soon as he saw it was Damon, he started to close the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy." Damon held up a bag and coffee cup. "I come bearing gifts."

Ric didn't stop closing the door.

"Coffee has whiskey in it."

The door halted just before it clicked completely closed. Ric's gravelly voice filtered through the crack. "I've been thinking about cutting back."

Damon scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Ric turned and walked away without saying a word. He didn't shut the door, but he didn't reopen it either. Damon took that as the invitation it was clearly intended to be and slipped inside.

Flicking on some lights overhead, Ric made his way to the kitchen area and maneuvered around the island counter. There was a scrape of stool legs over linoleum as he took a seat facing Damon. Another scrape as Damon claimed a stool opposite from him.

For a few uncomfortable heartbeats, Ric sat without moving, accentuating his cold silence.

To ease the tension, Damon pulled a full flask from his jacket pocket and added another generous shot of fine Irish whiskey to the steaming coffee. He then passed the attempt at conciliation over to Ric, who wrapped a hand around the warm cup, pulling it in close, but not taking a drink.

Before carefully replacing the cap on the flask, Damon took a liberal pull for himself. Not his preferred poison, but not bad, either. Not bad at all.

Mentally bracing himself for the ire that was sure to come, he put the flask away and spread his arms wide, a give it to me gesture. "Come on. Let it out. Let's get this over with, so we can move on to things that actually matter."

"You slept with my wife, and you killed her." Rather than sounding angry, Ric sounded flat and matter-of-fact.

Here we go, Damon thought, scowling, glancing down. "Technically, I turned her, and I thought we were already past this."

"You. Killed. My. Wife."

Damon said nothing in response, just met Ric's gaze for a brief second before looking back down and giving a curt nod. Correction acknowledged.

Ric took a steadying breath. Blew it out. "Another vampire killed Jenna. I'm trying to not let blind irrational hatred of all vampires take over here, but that's not exactly easy right now, so I need you to give me a reason to be okay with … this. I mean, if kissing Elena was just an attempt to live out some sick revenge fantasy against Stefan, you need to find another way to do it."

Damon was silent for a long moment, searching for the right words to reassure his friend and not coming by them easily. Imagine that. "What I feel for Elena has nothing to do with Stefan. I know I should stay away from her, and not just because of my brother, but I … can't." A moment, then, "But I would never hurt her. She's the only thing that matters. Her and rescuing my idiot brother from himself. Besides, no matter what her feelings might be for me, she and Stefan are still endgame. That hasn't changed."

Ric's features contorted as though he'd developed an instant migraine. "Look, just … allow me to reemphasize that whatever is going on, I don't want to know. Ever. As long as it's what Elena wants. Hurt her, and I'm letting Jeremy use you as target practice."

Damon's mouth lifted crookedly. A monumental sense of relief surged through him. "Wouldn't expect anything less. Kid needs the practice. Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

Ric didn't smile back. He tipped his coffee to his mouth, a much grimmer line. Afterwards, he shook his head a bit to clear the bite of alcohol. "Alright, so, let me guess. The real reason you're here is because you need something."

"Isn't it nice to be needed?"

"That depends entirely on what you need."

"We-ell, it just so happens that Mission: Kill Klaus is once again a go, because I know where we can get some more white oak."

Surprise had Ric almost to his feet before he caught himself and sat back down. "What? How is that possible? Marcel burned the last of it. We watched him do it."

Damon shrugged lazily. "Bonnie and her cousin did their witchy-woo thing with some of the ashes and located more. The actual last piece of white oak."

"Where?"

"A nifty place called the Armory. Heard of it?" He asked, despite knowing already that Ric's answer would be no.

"Can't say I have. Is it a bar?"

"Try a literal armory that specializes in stockpiling magical artifacts and weapons. One of the rarest and most valuable specimens in their collection – the last remaining piece of intact white oak. And, the best part of all? It's only a few miles outside of town. Practically on our doorstep."

Ric's disbelief was palpable. "That's a pretty unbelievable coincidence. How could something of this nature exist so close to us and we didn't even have a clue?"

"Bonnie says the place is magically shielded to prevent detection." Damon bared his teeth in savage anticipation. "At least, it was." He couldn't wait to go out and kill something, or at the very least, fuck some shit up, to relieve some of the tension twisting him up in inside.

"Okay," Ric said slowly, still processing, "but how exactly did this organization get their hands on this white oak? I highly doubt they bought it off eBay."

"Who fucking cares how they got it? They have it now, and we're going to take it from them. As in yesterday."

Another slow sip of coffee, giving Ric more time to think. "Let me make sure I'm following all this correctly. Bonnie used magic to locate the very last piece of white oak, and it's in a place called the Armory, which is a literal armory, and you want to break inside and steal it, an object of incalculable value that's probably heavily guarded, because again, you want to break into an armory." He let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, piece of cake."

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

"I was really afraid you were going to say that."

Damon just waited. There really wasn't any doubt the guy would agree to help, not when he still craved vengeance for Jenna.

Ric grudgingly scrubbed a hand over his mouth. "Fuck me. I suppose you want to do this now?"

Relaxing more comfortably on the stool, Damon took another substantial nip from his flask. "You know what they say. No rest for the wicked."


Ric showered and changed. Then, he and Damon walked down to the parking lot in front of his apartment building. There, Elena leaned against Damon's car, arms crossed in idle boredom.

Not where he'd expected to find her. It certainly wasn't where he'd left her – firmly ensconced in the boarding house with her friends. Things between them at the moment might be weird and complicated, but he'd still made damn sure she'd be as safe as she could possibly be during his brief absence.

When she spotted them approaching, she straightened, a welcoming look on her face that caused him faint alarm.

"Hey," she greeted them.

"Don't hey me." Damon scanned the area. He didn't see her car. "Are you insane? How are you even here right now?"

She met his incensed blue gaze with an indignant one of her own. "Really not the most pressing issue right now. You weren't about to leave without me again, were you?"

"Absolutely, I was," he said, not batting an eye. "You know why? Because it's too dangerous. This - " he swept his arm in a broad gesture, indicating everything in the general vicinity – "this is too dangerous! It's not safe for you to be out wandering around by yourself like you're not some sacrificial lamb wearing a mystical bulls-eye on your back. Why can you not seem to grasp that?"

When Elena pushed off the car and marched toward him, Ric decided he'd take the opportunity to slip behind her and hide within the safety of the Camero's interior. He shot Damon a Glad-it's-you-and-not-me look before closing the car door.

She stopped directly in front of Damon, a hand span of space between them. "Do you really want to waste time fighting right now?"

He gazed down at her, gave an insolent shrug, thoroughly unrepentant. "I'm thinking of the make up sex."

Her lips firmed. "Fine. Guess what? It's dangerous no matter where I am or what I'm doing, so you are not doing this, you are not excluding me on the first real lead we've had in a long time. Remember New Orleans? You promised you'd never leave me again."

He rolled his eyes. "It's a twenty minute drive, Elena. That hardly qualifies as leaving you."

"Did you or did you not promise that you'd never leave me again?"

"Okay, Little Miss Pain in the Ass, I think you know I meant that in an overarching, metaphorical sense, as opposed to a literal our-physical-bodies-must-be-glued-to-each-other-at-all-times kind of thing. Although now that I say that out loud, maybe that's what I should've meant…."

She refused to be derailed. "Did you or did you not promise me that?"

A muscle ticced in his cheek. Christ, this girl gave new meaning to the word stubborn. "I did, but let's be reasonable - "

"Good, let's get going. The sooner we get what we need, the safer I, and everyone, will be, right?"

"Elena," he threatened one last time, even though he'd already mostly accepted he was wasting his breath, "you can't come." He even threw in a menacing look, hoping that might help intimidate her into submission or at least render her more tractable.

No such luck.

Not about to be intimidated, she stepped closer, nose to nose with him, skewering him with her most unyielding I-will-die-on-this-hill glare. "Oh, yes, I can. You are not leaving me behind."

Her foolhardy determination brought to mind a feisty, hissing kitten puffed up with attitude, utterly endearing and undaunted by the big, bad mountain lion in its path. He fought desperately to stave off the amused expression his face wanted to make and somehow succeeded.

Maddening, obstinate, fierce, sexy, beautiful girl.

"It's my choice. Please, Damon, let me do this." Her plea was raw, soul wrenching. "I get that I'm not as strong or as fast as you, or even Ric, but I'm not useless."

He saw, in her eyes, how much this meant to her, how much she needed to accompany him. For a split second, he also glimpsed her quiet suffering, the unbearable weight of sadness she carried with her always. And it fucking wrecked him.

He went wholly still, like a marble statue but for the tension vibrating through him. He clenched his fists so tightly, the skin over his knuckles stretched white.

Fuck it. Why not? Why shouldn't she come with him? If she wanted to throw herself headlong into a perilous situation, if she was that desperate to feel like she was doing something to rescue Stefan, then who was he to deny that to her, especially since she kinda had a point. She was potentially in danger no matter where she was or who she was with. The Magic had driven that point home rather effectively.

At least if she was with him, both he and Ric could keep an eye on her and protect her, if need be, plus she wouldn't be mad at him for leaving her behind and … and … and goddammit, why was he seriously even considering this?

Because she was still looking at him with those sad, luminous eyes of hers.

Because she was completely fucking insane, and so was he.

Because he wanted to stop arguing and pull her in close, kiss her hard and never let her go.

Her brow furrowed. "Please say something."

His eyes slid shut, though it was no relief, since a vision of her heartbroken face was burned on his retinas. He slowly released his fists.

"Get in the car," he grated out. "Now. Before I change my mind and throttle some sense into you instead."

"Really?" Quick as a sprite, she rose on her tip toes and kissed him. Then remembered Ric was mere feet away in the car. "Oops."

Blue eyes snapped open, glowed fiercely. "Get in the damn car, Elena." He couldn't manage to infuse quite the same edge into his tone as before.

"Okay!" She slid into the backseat behind Ric.

Damon walked around to the driver's side, marveling with every step at his ability to be an utter dumb ass. Christ, he might as well staple a sign that read 'brain-dead moron' to his forehead. Whatever happened to Elena would be on his head, so what the fuck was he doing?

He was handling it, that's what. Whatever happened, whatever was thrown their way, he'd … handle it. And hopefully kill it. Killing something always made him feel better. At least, temporarily.

Feeling a little better at the impending prospect of bloodshed and mayhem and having half-convinced himself that he had everything mostly under control, he glanced around the parking lot one more time before climbing in, still not seeing any sign of how Elena had managed to intercept them there.

Only time would tell how big of a mistake he was making.


Greetings! I truly hope this finds everyone well! I apologize that my updates have been so sloooooooooooooooow. Life's been crushing me lately, but that should let up soon. Thank you for still reading, anyway! I promise to be better about updating and responding! Please be kind, be safe, and be healthy. :)

Justinia K