Damon's sitting at his favorite bar stool. The annoying blonde seated to his left has been trying incessantly to cajole him into taking her home... He's in no mood to flirt with the desperate women of Las Vegas on this night.
"Not tonight, sweetheart, I have things to attend to," he informs her, sipping his bourbon.
"I think I would be better entertainment than things," she pesters and snakes her hand beneath the bar to squeeze his thigh.
His lips curl derisively as he removes it. "Yeah, well, I'm not feeling it, honey. Now run along," he responds, and looks into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilate slightly.
"I have to run," she echoes monotonically and wanders off.
He picks up his drink again and downs it, signaling the bartender for a refill. Damon considers the situation he unexpectedly finds himself in. He's never wanted to get involved with anyone, not seriously anyway. Katherine fucking Pierce was his only other bump in the road. He learned some cold, hard truths from her and doesn't ever want to find himself behind the eight-ball again. That whole debacle was before Elena, and now she's turned him inside out and upside down.
Damon shoots back his drink angrily. Maybe it's time for him to blow this popsicle stand? Why should he care if some murderous vampire is tearing through women in Las Vegas? It's none of his business. But then she fills his mind again. What if the predator hones in on her? …If Elena's right, he might not be the only one lurking in the crowd when the police are working the scenes. The murderer could likely be there, too. And it wouldn't go unnoticed that Elena is always there as well…
If she were to be taken away permanently, as in dead before they even have a chance, it would prove to be one of his life's cruelest jokes. They have shared not one, but several rockets-red-glare, bombs-bursting-in-air kisses, and as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't want to have her yanked away.
"Seriously?" he thinks out loud. Was he born under a bad witchy-juju or something? What makes him think she'd ever want to be with a vampire in the first place?
"Damon, you're losing your edge," he mumbles under his breath and quirks his finger at the bartender.
After emptying another pour, Damon feels a little more like himself. When a pretty redhead saunters over and orders a rum and Coke, he flashes his killer smile. In mere moments, they're sitting in a back booth, and she has her tongue down his throat. They move to the bathroom, which fortunately has a lock on the door.
Damon doesn't waste time with small talk; instead, he opens her shirt, smirking when he finds her braless. As his hands knead her breasts, she starts to dig her nails into his thighs, obviously wanting more, so he obliges, lowering one hand and gripping her ass, helping to grind himself against her.
While she's moaning, Damon extends his fangs and buries them in her jugular, launching her over the edge despite doing nothing more than heavy petting. With his mouth affixed to her throat, he drinks his fill, dislodges his fangs, and licks the wounds.
Afterwards, he straightens himself up and bites into his own flesh. "Drink," he coaxes, offering his bloody wrist to her.
The nameless redhead opens her eyes and grimaces at the sight of his blood. She hesitates, so he uses his other hand to clasp her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Drink, then you'll go home, go to bed, and forget this ever happened."
Nodding robotically, she brings his wrist to her mouth and suckles softly. Several seconds later, he withdraws his arm.
"I have to go home now," she mumbles, unlocking the door and disappearing among the crowd.
It's not late yet, and he's not ready to call it a night, so Damon hops in his Camaro and drives to the Luxor. After tossing the attendant his keys and a ten spot, he strolls into the casino as if he doesn't have a care in the world. He's dressed in his usual designer jeans, John Varvatos tee, leather jacket, and black Armani boots
He knows he looks good.
The night is in full swing. Strobe lights begin flashing, building up to the band taking the stage. Moments later the room is reverberating with the sound of guitars, drums, and keyboards.
He's just taken the first sip of his bourbon when a woman sidles up to stand next to him. He mutters a soft curse under his breath but shoots her a sideways smirk as he rakes his eyes over her skimpy black dress and the way it hugs her curvaceous hips. He has to do a double take when the girl's face morphs into Elena Gilbert's.
What the actual fuck?
It takes him a moment to shake himself out of it. In no mood to consider what his conscience might be hinting at, he offers his hand. "I'm Damon."
"I'm Callie," she gushes, letting her fingers linger when they shake hands.
"That dress fits you like a glove," Damon remarks, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk as he signals the bartender.
Callie flushes a deep rose color, even as she self-consciously runs her hand down the front of her dress, smoothing out imaginary lines.
"Bye, Callie. Go along now," a man calls over Damon's shoulder.
Her head snaps to the side to tell him to go to hell; instead, she nods and walks off without giving Damon so much as a backward glance.
Damon mutters a soft curse, recognizing the voice. "What are you doing here?" he spits, extending his arm to wrap his fingers around the interloper's throat.
Kai sets a beer bottle down, smiles that aggravating smile of his at his opponent before stabbing Damon's hand with a pocket knife.
"Aah!" Damon grimaces, his free hand curling into a fist.
"You can always fight dirty. It's what I do," Kai mocks and throws back Damon's shot of whiskey.
Damon manages to free his hand. "I warned you, I'm going to rip your head off."
"No. You won't. You have too much fun threatening me," he points out, smacks the beer bottle against the bar, snapping it in half, spilling most of its contents on the floor.
"Big tough guy now?" Damon cracks with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
Kai says nothing; instead, he pours the liquid on Damon's skin which sizzles and bubbles. "Vervain can be so entertaining," he mocks, as his mouth curls into a sinister grin. When Kai raises his arm again, it's clear he's intent to drive the glass once more into Damon's flesh, only luck is on Damon's side.
A shrill voice stays Kai's arm.
"Stay away from him!" comes from behind them. Elena grabs the bottle from Kai's hand and sets it on the tray of a passing cocktail waitress.
"What are you going to do? Make a face at me?" Kai mocks. "I'm embarrassed for you."
Damon notices Elena staring at his hand. She gasps at the sight of his skin healing before her eyes.
"I'll explain," he mouths before intentionally stepping between Elena and Kai and shooting the sociopath a disgruntled look. "You gonna do this in the bar, Kai? In front of everyone? It's a little beneath you, don't you think?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," Kai snarks and winks at Elena.
"Bullshit," Damon blurts out, lifting his glass to his mouth. After emptying it, he tosses some cash on the bar, takes Elena by the elbow, and stalks out of the bar area toward the casino exit, not stopping until he's around the corner and on the street where he parked his Camaro. He's aware that Kai is following, which had been his intention.
When Kai steps around the corner of the bar, Damon breaks a bottle over his head, knocking him out. Damon trusses him up with a piece of rope, tosses him in the trunk, and slams the lid closed.
"What are you going to do with him?" Elena asks.
"I'm going to get some answers."
"I'm coming with you," she insists.
"No, you're not. You can't un-see what you might see," he says matter-of-factly. "And how did you happen to be here?"
"A work get-together. I got up to use the bathroom and saw you. It's a crazy coincidence."
"You better get back to them," Damon turns away to unlock his car door...
"You can be an insufferable ass..." the words die on her lips when he pins her against the car. And then he's kissing her. Once, twice, until she's had a taste and realizes she'll never have enough. He's everywhere, up her back, over her arms and suddenly he's kissing her harder, deeper, with a fervent urgent need. His tongue slips inside her mouth, gentle but demanding, nothing like she's ever experienced. Suddenly she understands why people describe kissing as melting because every square inch of her body dissolves into his.
Her fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer. She's never wanted anyone like this before. He pushes her backward until she's laying on the trunk. The weight of his body on top of hers is extraordinary. She feels him- all of him- pressing against her. His face has the slightest bit of stubble, it rubs her skin and feels wonderful. His hands are everywhere; it doesn't matter that his mouth is already on top of hers; she wants more.
"I can hear you," comes from beneath them, killing the moment.
"Shut up, Kai" Damon barks, pounding on the trunk with his palm before helping Elena to steady herself. "You better go back to your friends. They're probably wondering where you are."
Elena straightens her hair and clothes. "Yeah," she agrees, her bosom still heaving.
"I'll walk you inside," Damon states, links their fingers and saunters alongside her to the casino entrance.
"Have fun," he adds before leaving her to deal with the bane of his existence.
Kai is strapped to a fence post in the desert as he slowly regains consciousness. He looks around to take in his surroundings. Waves of heat rise off the sand like flames. Rivulets of sweat pour off him, his shirt is soaked and clinging to his body.
"You're awake again. Good. Now for the Q&A portion of the morning," Damon quips.
"Let me guess. I answer right, I get a pork rind. Wrong, I get a good whacking with a 2x6."
"What? No, no, no, these are for me." Damon tosses one in his mouth, his face screws up at the taste. "How do you eat this crap?" he asks and empties the bag on the ground. "You just get the wood."
"Why are you wasting them?" Kai scowls.
Picking up the plank, Damon leans on it. "I want some answers."
"I told you that I'm here for baby brother Luke. You had a little brother once, too; you know how it is."
"I had a brother, but unlike you, I didn't hate or try to murder him."
"Oh, come on now, Damon. You promised him a lifetime of misery."
"That's different. I never wanted him dead. Enough of this mindless bullshit! Why are you really here?"
"I'm not a monster," Kai starts, pausing at the incredulous look Damon shoots him. "Okay, so I am one...I heard Livie was dead and how she was murdered. I'm curious about it just like you. Who's the new ripper vampire running around?"
"Why do you care?" Damon asks, lifting the plank to let it rest on Kai's leg. Grinning, he leans on it again.
Kai's face contorts in pain as he struggles against the rope that's binding him.
"Answer me," Damon spits out, feeling a fresh stab of anger.
"I did answer, you son-of-a-bitch, and as soon as I free myself, you're going to be in a world of hurt," he snarls and his eyes burn with rage.
"Did you go to acting class in your spare time?" Damon quips, leaning a little harder on the wooden plank.
"I warned you," Kai counters, suddenly revealing his now free hands, but before Damon can react, Kai uses his powers and catapults Damon back against a pile of boulders. Jumping to his feet, Kai continues to provoke excruciating torture on the vampire.
Damon screams and tries to fight the pain. Suddenly there's a gunshot and Kai falls to the ground.
"I've wanted to kill that mother-fucker for a very long time..." comes a familiar voice.
Damon gets up and looks suspiciously at the man who has just appeared seemingly out of thin air. He's feels as if he's looking at a ghost. "Ric? What are you doing here?"
"As soon as I found out you were in Vegas, I've been keeping a weather eye out. What brings you here, Damon?"
"So, you chose Las Vegas to escape to?" Damon asks while brushing the sand off his jeans.
"It's a big city; easy to get lost in. Now, why don't you tell me what brought you to Las Vegas?"
"The murders. Stefan's done this before. He's dead, so I want to know who the killer is. As soon as I do, I'm gone."
"What about Elena?"
"How do you know her?" Damon replies, grimacing when he pulls a cactus spine out of his hand.
"I work with her, quite a coincidence is it not?" Ric explains, his eyes staring pointedly at Damon.
"Yeah, you could say that."
"If you hurt her, you'll have me to answer to," Ric warns him. Pulling a flask out of his pocket, he takes a swallow and offers it to Damon.
"Thanks," he utters and takes a gulp. "I have no intention of hurting Elena. I actually like her," Damon teases with a waggle of his brows.
"What are we going to do with him?" Ric nods at Kai.
Damon presses his fingertips to his carotid, feeling no pulse. "The buzzards can have him. Let's go," Damon retorts with a shrug and follows Ric to where their cars are parked.
"I'll be watching you and Elena," Ric repeats his warning before sliding into his pickup.
"Good to see you, too," Damon yells sarcastically as Ric spins his tires, shrouding Damon in a spray of sand and exhaust fumes when he drives away.
Huge, huge thanks to all of you.
Massive thanks to jmfangs and siberia21. They're both amazingly talented writers and friends.
Chapter title: 'Complicated' by Avril Lavigne.
Hope you all have a fabulous day. See you next week.