Ric moves closer till their faces are only inches away from each other. Damon feels like he's trying to see inside of him and takes a few steps back, to widen the distance between them.

He chuckles, "This is the end of the line, Damon, do you want a bullet, a blade or a rope?" he winks at Isobel.

"How decent of you to give me a choice in the manner of my death!" Damon's jaw tightens.

"I'm a decent sort of fellow. I have no reason to keep you alive so let's get on with it." Ric toys with a revolver .

Damon watches and takes more than a few minutes to sort through his thoughts. If he can catch an opening, launch himself, surprise him...he just has to buy himself a little time.

"Isobel, get on board, tell the pilot to start the preflight checklist, I'll be joining you momentarily," Ric looks at her.

Her eyes narrow slightly and Damon forces himself to hold steady under her scrutiny. She then gives him a nod and boards the aircraft.

"You're awfully anxious to see me die," Damon arches an eyebrow. "What if I have more information, something you might need?" He starts to laugh and his eyes drop. Although he's instinctively aware that the odds are stacked against him but he has to take the chance if for no other reason than to keep Ric and Isobel away from Elena.

Sensing this is the only opening he might get; Damon forms his hands as if he's gripping imaginary tennis balls and launches himself at Ric. He digs his fingers into the bicep of the swinging arm and rips at the muscle, while striking the forearm on the same side, straight in with the heel of his palm.

He can practically hear the blood pumping in his ears; he feels the pain in both legs when Ric rams him without mercy and the gathering sweat on every part of his skin.

In that frozen second between stand off and Ric picking up the gun, he sees his eyes flick from him to the plane. His face is unreadable, no fear, no nothing. Damon again seizes the moment and leaps at him when he reaches for the gun. He slams his head against the concrete floor, and watches as his eyes roll to the back of his head before he loses consciousness.

Damon picks up the gun and aims it at him. He has to jump back when the plane begins to taxi, Isobel obviously is only interested in saving herself. Before he has a moment to react, sirens sound and several cars speed onto the airfield to block the runway...

Snapping himself out of it, he raises his hand to drive the dagger in...

Almost immediately he feels the muzzle of a gun pressing against his temple. "Drop the weapon Alexander; and raise your hands," Rebekah commands.

It falls to the floor with a metallic clang.

"What are you doing here?" he snarls as she slaps a pair of handcuffs on him and radios for assistance.

Elena jumps out of bed and out of his reach. "You know him?"

"Oh yes, Alexander and I go way back, teens actually. We dated for a couple of years, I decided to go into law enforcement, he decided to go into contract killing... Isn't that right?" she smiles but keep her weapon trained on his face.

"I should've killed you when I had the chance. Next time there'll be no second thoughts," his mouth contorts into an angry snarl.

"Oh, there won't be a next time, you're going to spend the rest of your life in the deep in the mountains of Colorado, at the infamous ADX Florence aka 'The Alcatraz of the Rockies' - but you can dream..." Rebekah arches an eyebrow just as several of her colleagues pour into Elena room.

With his wrists and ankles now in shackles, he's led out of Elena's room to a cell that's waiting for him at the nearest police station...

"Oh my God," Elena slaps her palm against her still thundering heartbeat. "You were amazing, Rebekah."

"Nah, all in a day's work," she only slides her gun back into her shoulder holster.

"What about Damon? Can you find out anything? Can we tell him that I'm okay?"

"Dahlia is supposed to call when everything is secure. I know it's hard to wait but that's what we have to do," Rebekah gives Elena a hug when she frowns.

There is a kind of waiting that feels like gentle onshore breezes kissing salty stones. It isn't warm but there is a sense of calm, of nature, of things expected. Then there is the kind that feels like the head of a medieval mace is loose in her gut and her head has taken a beating with a hefty plank of wood. As Elena waits to hear if Damon's alright, it's the latter...

Alaric eyes the weapon with bleak gray eyes, the eyes of a hunter framed in the passionless face of an executioner. A cacophony of car doors slam and knowing he's surrounded; he lays motionless on the tarmac.

There are any number of things that the FBI might use but Damon has the distinct feeling that whatever methods they opt for may or may not be of the standard operating procedure variety.

"Don't move," Marcel aims the weapon at him while Vincent cuffs him and pulls him to his feet.

Dahlia moves to take the gun from Damon's hand. When he looks at her, his eyes searching, she says, "It's over."

"Elena?"

"She's fine, we had one of our best agents guarding her."

"She's okay? She's really okay?" Damon's heart slams against his chest.

"Yes, Damon, she's really fine. She wasn't hurt nearly as badly as it appeared. We needed your reaction to be real. The bullet only grazed her. She has some stitches but she's good, really good."

Damon watches as Ric is taken away along with Isobel and the pilot.

Noticing the slump of his shoulders, Vincent walks over and shakes his hand. "Thank you, we couldn't have done it without you."

"I can't really say it was my pleasure but I'm glad I could help. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Vincent lights a cigarette.

"What about the mayor?"

Vincent glances at his watch. "Right about now, a police car should be pulling up in front of his home with an arrest warrant."

He rakes his eyes over Damon, as he covers his mouth to hide a pronounced yawn. "Why don't you go wait in the van? After our debriefing, one of us will take you to the hospital if that's what you want?"

Damon nods and when he reaches the vehicle, he sinks into the seat, fatigued from the adrenaline wane. Tilting back, he lays his head against the backrest and closes his eyes. It takes mere moments for sleep to consume him.

Elena awakens with a start. It takes a few moments for the fuzz in her brain to clear enough to realize that someone's pounding on her front door. She glanced at the clock – 1:00 am.

Pushing herself out of bed, she walks down the hall to the door, tugging at the hem of her nightie before checking the peep hole. The shock of midnight colored hair is all Elena needs to see to know who it is.

Swinging open the door, she swallows thickly at the way his blue eyes are staring at her, knocking the wind right of of her with desire burning in them. She wants to ask him why he's here but her voice sticks in her throat.

"I know what I want," Damon's not taking his eyes off of her.

"What's that?" Elena asks, her voice breathless and her pulse pounding through her body.

"You," he replies so seductively that her insides clench and quiver.

His words hang between them, as he continues to stare at her with molten eyes.

She doesn't know who moves first. One moment Damon is outside and the next, he's holding her in his arms and his lips are smashed against hers. She tangles her fingers in his hair, and his low growl does nothing to quench the desire that's burning through her veins.

Damon bends and lifts her into his arms, pressing her into the nearest wall and she wraps her legs around his waist. He grinds his hips into hers, hitting her in the spot that makes her body sing when he rubs against her just right. One hand tightens in her hair, while the other fists the material of his tee shirt.

"Did I tell you that I love your sexy lingerie?" he murmurs against her lips as he kisses, licks and sucks his way down her neck, raising goosebumps all over her skin.

Elena can only moan her answer as she grinds herself against him, needing the friction as much as she needs air.

"I'm going to love it even more when it's in a heap on the floor."

She pulls her arms from the straps and lets it fall from her chest, revealing her bare bosom. Air hisses through Damon's teeth as he buries his face between her breasts, sucking and nibbling on them. Her head drops back against the wall, as he sets her legs down and pushes the material of her gown over her hips and onto the floor. Without taking his mouth from her chest, he lifts her again, and carries her back to her bed.

His hands roam her bare skin, paying extra attention to her breasts and ramping up her need for him. Every fiber of her being wants him and nothing else. "I want you inside me," she whispers, frantically unbuttoning his shirt and running her nails down his chest, her mouth watering at his gorgeous sculpted body beneath her palms.

Together they work to get his clothes off, both of them panting as their control withers away.

She barely has a moment to admire him totally naked before he takes her hips and positions himself. Locking eyes with him, she lets them drop, taking him in a little at a time til he's fully seated inside of her. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream.

Elena jolts awake, her body covered in sweat, her pulse pounding and her center throbbing. She glances around, noticing that she'd kicked all of her blankets off of the bed. With a hand over her heart, she tries desperately to calm its erratic beating. Her whole body is on edge after such an erotic and vivid dream.

Too edgy to sleep after that, Elena returns to bed after washing her face. Rebekah smirks at her, knowing full well what she dreamed about. Elena rolls her eyes then settles into the sheets. She rubs her fingers along the cotton/polyester fabric and presses her cheek to the pillow. It's well past visitation hours but she hopes that somehow Damon can sneak in. Rebekah did assure her that he's just fine, save for a few bruises and scratches, from scrapping with Ric. She was nowhere near as friendly with him as Damon was...still she never could have guessed him to be a traitor, selling secrets to America's enemies for profit. The thought alone seems like it should be a relic of the Cold War.

Rolling on her back, Elena stares at the ceiling. Her head snaps to the sound of the door creaking as Damon steps from the shadows, stealing her breath and the heat from her skin.

Before she can suck in a breath, she's already melting into his form when he slides in beside her without uttering a peep. She can feel his firm chest and his heart beating against her palm.

"I'll just leave you two alone," Rebekah points to the door then quickly slips outside.

"Thanks," Elena replies without taking her eyes from Damon. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine. I was more worried about you."

He's devouring her with his eyes. When he kisses her it's sweet, gentle, and it tastes of lost time. Elena brushes a strand of hair off of his forehead, then palms his cheek. "Let's not do this again."

"Never," his mouth paints a soft smile before folding her in his arms again.

Thanks so much everyone.

Chapter title: 'The Heat is On' by Glen Frey.

For those of you who aren't aware, the fanfiction website had some kind of huge glitch. Chapters 17 and 18 of TIOTR would appear then disappear again after a few minutes Their twitter account fictionpress had been inundated with over 500 complaints, sounds like it started on 10/30. That's the reason for lack of updates because was pointless to do so if you weren't going to be able to see the chapter.

Have an amazing day and weekend.