It hadn't been the way Damon had pictured the triumphant victory scene going. He had defeated the bad guy, it had been his hands that brought an end to the terror of the week - so when Elena looked down on him from the stairs, his heart (though still unbeating) seemed to jump up into his throat. There was a pregnant pause and then she ran, and right when he was about to open his arms, he saw where she was aiming herself. Not at him, but at St. Stefan.
Of course.
So if you asked Damon if this was how he had pictured it, the woman of his dreams, driving home with his little brother in his own car... then no, not exactly. Not at all. Elena had been ready to leave after her sickeningly sweet reunion with Stefan, and while he couldn't blame her for that, he wasn't about to subject himself to being enclosed with the two of them for the ride back to Mystic Falls.
He tossed the keys to Stefan, muttering something about looking for leads, clues. Something that would get them one step closer to finding out exactly what the end game had been. Though Stefan looked at him questioningly, he had Elena tugging on his arm.
"Come on, Stefan. I'm tired," Elena said softly.
"Okay, I'll get you home," Stefan replied. "Be careful, Damon."
"Please," Elena added in a somber voice, her dark eyes catching his for one of those fleeting moments that, to him, seemed so full of unsaid somethings.
As he watched his brother back away from the house, Damon pulled a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. What was wrong with him? Why had he thought she was going to come to him? He was a monster. Princesses didn't fall in love with the dragons sent to guard the castle. They fell in love with the princes and knights and, of course, saints.
Walking around idly, he tried not to think of the situation too much. That was his position on the whole thing: to serve and protect and not think about it. Because when Damon though about it, it made him consider what exactly it would be called when a vampire offs himself. You can't kill what's already dead - completion, maybe.
Suddenly, as his foot moved to take another step, there was the unmistakable sound of something dragging against the floor. Looking down he saw a necklace. Elena's necklace. Picking it up by the chain he dangled it in front of his face. While he hated what it stood for, his brother originally trying to protect Elena from him, he had begun to associate it with her. And that, in the end, made it a thing of beauty.
Then as quickly as he had found it, a thought struck through his body forcefully: he had to return it to her. Without her necklace she was vulnerable to compulsion. And while Stefan may be willing to risk one night of Elena sleeping alone in her room, Damon was not. Being one of the most evil things around, or at least having been one of the most evil things around, he knew all that was needed was a window of opportunity.
And here, in his hands, he held that opportunity.