Camera lights are flashing continuously as Damon cuts through the crowd to join his colleagues for the press conference. Enzo and the rest of their team step back to allow Damon to reach the microphone.
Before speaking, Damon scans the crowd, and his eyes finally land on Elena. "Before we start, I'd like to invite Dr. Gilbert to join me," he states as he gestures at her with his arm.
Pressing her palm to her chest, Elena meets his blue eyes. "Me?" she verbalizes silently, a little surprised at his entreaty. Taking a breath, she walks skirts through the crowd and moves to stand behind Damon with the others but he extends his arm, latching his hand around her wrist to pull her beside him.
"First I want to thank Dr. Gilbert for understanding that something important was happening here and inviting the CDC and other State and local officials to help us understand and identify this disease." Damon pauses to clap, leading the assembled crowd in applause.
"I've called this press conference to announce that we have identified the virus that's caused so much pain and death. Sin Nombre Orthohantavirus is the prototypical etiologic agent of hantavirus cardiopulmonary syndrome. We'd also like to thank Dr. Reyna Cruz and the deep wisdom of the Navajo Medicine Men for helping provide us with the information necessary that allowed us to put the pieces together and identify the pathogen. Now we'll answer a few questions."
Andie Starr's hand shoots into the air. When Damon points at her, she stands up and quickly identifies herself, adding, "So, Dr. Salvatore, now that you've identified the virus, what are the chances of developing a cure or a vaccine?"
"Of course, anything is possible but as you know, there is no cure for the common cold. It'll take probably take years of research and even then, there's no guarantee."
Damon takes a few more questions before ending the press conference. He turns just as Elena is entering the hospital. Determined to talk with her, he excuses himself and works his way through the crowd to go after her.
As soon as he enters the building, a code blue in the ICU is called overhead and he knows he's not going to be able to talk to Elena right now. He catches a fleeting glimpse of her as she flashes her badge to open the elevator door.
Sighing, he heads to his office space to meet with his team so they can wrap this investigation up and prepare to return to CDC headquarters in Atlanta. Under normal circumstances, he's excited to crack a case and go home but not this time. He has an unsettled feeling about saying goodbye to Elena.
His life is all about goodbyes and constant change. He's been single and on his own since his parents dropped him off at college. He loves what he does and the independence that comes with being unattached. Yet the act of saying goodbye to Elena who he's been surrounded by for a while now makes his throat tighten and his heartache, something he's never felt before.
"Hey, Damon, we're going to go out to eat. You coming?" Enzo pokes his head through the door.
"Where are you going to be? If I can't get a hold of Elena, I'll meet you there."
"Goodfellas," Enzo informs him.
"I'll let you know if I'm not coming," Damon smirks.
"Good luck," Enzo calls over his shoulder as he walks out, pulling the door closed behind him.
Damon walks over to the window. Dusk comes sooner than expected, the last of the sun's rays cosset behind the soft grey clouds. The street takes on the look of an old photograph, every familiar thing a shade of grey as is his mood at having to leave her behind.
Elena's tired when she arrives home. Despite the fantastic news revealing the virus, she had an incredibly taxing day. She pulls a slice of bologna and a beer out of the fridge and as soon as she empties the can, she showers and goes straight to bed.
Bolting upright, Elena startles awake from her dreamland full of waves, sand, and Damon Salvatore. Running a hand through her unruly hair and looking around the darkened room, she wonders what causes her to awaken so suddenly. No sooner has the thought crossed her mind than did she hear two short raps against her door. Reaching for her phone, she checked the time and became increasingly alarmed by the fact that someone is knocking on her door at midnight. Climbing out of bed and snagging her robe, she pulls it on over her blue camisole and plaid sleep shorts, cinching it tightly around her waist as she approaches the door.
"Who's there?" Elena calls out quietly, clicking on the overhead entry light and placing her hand on the upright, levered door handle.
"It's me," comes the whispered reply, and Elena grins unexpectedly at hearing the voice from her dream come to life.
Opening the door, she remembers she's mad at him but is slightly taken aback by a clearly out-of-sorts Damon standing in front of her. He appears to be hastily dressed in jeans, a black shirt, leather boots, and a jacket.
Her hand is on the lever to shut the door when Damon suddenly grabs her by the elbow, spinning her around and pinning her against the wall, before crashing his lips down onto hers. His hands dive into her hair, fisting in the strands and angling her head so that he can devour her mouth in a searing kiss. After a few intense seconds, he pulls away, leaning his forehead against hers, as they both struggle to catch their breath.
"I'm sorry about the hour," he says. "I needed to see you."
Elena shuts the door and follows him back inside. "Damon, what's going on?" she asks, switching the light on.
Tipping back his mug, Elena watches as he drains the rest of his coffee before setting the empty cup on the end table and meeting her gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, obviously tired, yet wide open and alert.
"We're going back to Atlanta," Damon looks at his watch, "Later today."
"I expected you'd be leaving soon but not right away," Elena says, immediately grasping the situation. She lays a hand on his arm and looked up at him earnestly. "But, why are you here?"
"I can't leave without telling you that I was an ass. I didn't know about your friend dying but that's no excuse. I shouldn't have attacked you the way that I did and I shouldn't have brushed off your offer in favor of Reyna Cruz. Please forgive me for making you feel less than you are."
"And I apologize for overreacting, but, Damon, you implied that my patients didn't trust me enough to talk to me."
"I'm an idiot and I'm selfish and even arrogant at times. And I'm crazy about you and I'm not ready to go. I know it will be hard, really hard...but I want to explore this thing between us even if it means using up all of my frequent flyer miles."
Elena brings her palm to her throat and stares at him through several beats of her heart before nodding vigorously.
One side of Damon's mouth quirks up into a lopsided smile as he closes the distance between them, taking her hand fully in his and interlacing their fingers.
"What a difference a few weeks can make in someone's life!"
"Life-changing," Elena chuckles lightly, letting her eyes slip shut and breathing in his scent of coffee and leather, as he bends his head down and brushes his lips against hers. Her word choice is no exaggeration. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's smart, gorgeous, and one hell of a good kisser.
"Thank you," he mumbles against her lips, and she can feel his shoulders relax a little as she slings her arms across them and threads her fingers through the ends of his hair just above his collar.
"Don't mention it," Elena grins, leaning back and running her hand along the side of his face. "Will you be able to sleep on the plane?"
"I'll be fine," Damon replies as he lifts her up onto the desk and unties her robe, shamelessly giving her scantily clad figure a lustful once-over. "Cute PJs."
"Uh, uh, uh," Elena responds, batting his hands away, even as she wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer.
"Have a heart," he smirks, before hungrily claiming her lips again and pushing his hands inside of the open robe, his thumbs teasing her nipples through her thin camisole.
Moaning, Elena curls her fists into his t-shirt and deepens the kiss, their lips parting and tongues colliding.
Skirting down her sides, Damon's hands have just found their way beneath her top, his fingertips stroking the undersides of her breasts and causing her to thrust her chest wantonly toward him.
"Take me to bed," Elena says softly, her brown eyes filling with fire.
"You sure?" Damon asks even as her mouth traces the line of his jaw. "You're really sure?"
Elena hesitates, stopping to smile up at him. There is a sweetness in her expression that makes his chest ache.
"Yes, I'm sure."
Damon lets out a long, slow breath, and then he's smiling too and he nods just before he bends to kiss her again. She wraps her entire body around him this time, cradling him against her with her arms and legs and he rocks against her slowly, the friction so achingly good. As he tastes her, the delicious, wet inside of her mouth, he forced himself to go slowly. The last time he touched her, it had been raw and possessive.
It's different now, though. Damon refuses to think of this as a goodbye – that's too painful, too difficult, too agonizing to get through – but he knows, deep down, that this might be the last time they are together like this for a long time and he wants to find a way to make it last, to engrave every tiny bit of memory in his head, his heart, for all those long, lonely nights without her.
Picking her up, he carries her to her room and sets her down. Damon reaches between them, slowly inching the soft fabric of her camisole up her body. Elena trembles when his fingertips whisper along her ribcage and he finds himself smiling against her mouth because she's obviously ticklish there.
Damon lifts the cami off, dropping it carelessly beside him, and studies her, panting and flushed in only her delicate pajama bottoms. Her skin is golden, almost caramel-colored in the faint light, and he traces his tongue along her collar bone, down along the valley between her breasts, closing his eyes at the sweetness of her skin.
Elena fights with the buttons of his shirt, trying to pluck them free even as he makes his way down her body, his lips blazing a hot trail along her belly. She makes a fretting noise deep in her throat and tugs at his hair.
"I can't reach you," she moans, almost plaintively.
Damon rests his chin on her stomach, just above the waistband of her shorts, and smiles up at her in the darkness. "Shh…" he scolds teasingly as he urges her onto the bed. "Patience…"
Elena shakes her head frantically against the pillow. "You're taking too long," she whispers, her voice harsh and desperate in the quiet room.
Damon pauses, trying to read the look in her eyes. He knows how she feels, of course – he feels it, too. Wetting his lip, he slides her pajama bottoms off. He follows the sleek line of her legs, pressing his lips along her skin from ankle to thigh, touching her gently, carefully.
Elena shifts restlessly against the sheets as if the light grazing of his fingertips is almost unbearable, but when he touches her where she is as hot and wet as the tropics, her hips nearly launch off the bed and the groan that tears from her throat is greedy but satisfied.
Damon doesn't want to tease her, not when she's so obviously ready and not when he's in such need himself, his member throbbing demandingly through the layers of his clothing. He shifts up to his knees and starts to work the buttons on his shirt, staring down at her all the while. She has a raw, hungry look in her eyes...
He undoes his jeans, still watching her. When he finally eases himself back over her, Elena is trembling again and he feels her nails rake against his back urgently. He savors the firm ripeness of her breasts. She pulls at his hair again and plants her feet flat against the mattress to try to get some leverage.
Damon doesn't let her move, though, determined to do this at this pace, slow and easy and leisurely, like they have all the time in the world. He's so hard that it almost hurt, but still holds himself back.
Elena turns on her side then, and he watches in confusion as she reaches for something in the bedside table. She lets out a quick breath when she finds what she's searching for. She holds the condom out to him, her eyes feverish and glazed. Heat seems to radiate from every inch of her body, and his fingers shake as he rolls it on.
She reaches for him again, pulling him back to her, and then as soon as he feels his length slide against the warmth between her thighs, there are no second thoughts. Damon pulls his hips back, then slides forward again, and he's inside her.
Her breath rushes out of her in a surprised gasp and Damon feels her knees squeeze his hips.
"Yes," Elena moans. "Just like that..."
She lifts her hips up against him, and that small movement makes him see stars. Damon can't stop himself from pushing forward and driving himself into her with abandon.
Elena bites her lip, stifling moans every time he shifts, but her eyes fly open suddenly and their gazes lock and for a moment, it's impossible to imagine ever feeling more connected to her.
Her legs wrap around his waist and he slides his hand to the small of her back, tilting her hips up so he can control the angle. He knows he's found the right spot when she cries out, sounding hoarse and desperate, and he keeps up the rhythm, knowing it won't take long.
When Elena tightens around him, strong as a vice, he slows down, trying to prolong it for her, trying to make it last for as long as she can handle. Her eyes slip shut again, though, as she arches her back against the mattress, and he immediately misses staring into those dark eyes. It's good, the way they're moving, and he finds himself rocking back on his heels, keeping his hand at the small of Elena's back so he can drag her with him without slipping out of her.
Elena clings to him tightly, groaning along with him as he pushes deeper inside her than before to a spot that leaves them both trembling. They might both lose their minds before this is over.
Somehow, Damon manages to sit down on the mattress, arranging Elena in his lap so they are eye to eye. She gazes at him. Her brown eyes send a shiver of golden light racing down his spine.
No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to catch his breath, particularly when she begins to rise up and down against him, moving at a pace that is somehow both too slow and too fast. He presses his lips to her throat, licking at her slick skin, and tries to hold back, trying to keep himself from giving in. This needs to last; it needs to go on indefinitely, to go on forever. It feels too good not to.
But then Elena moves faster, grinding against him hard and deliberate, and he can't keep his eyes open either. He buries his face in her shoulder, moaning into the curve of her neck as he feels himself slipping over the edge. Heat grips his body, and suddenly he's coming, harder and longer than he can ever remember. He shivers with the effort it requires, panting wildly as Elena continues to milk everything he has to give.
When he lifts his face from her shoulder, he can only shake his head.
Elena laughs, running her fingers through his hair. "Yeah," she murmured breathlessly.
She grins, so lovely and luminous, and the mere sight tightens his chest. They are still tangled together, all wrapped up in one another, and he can't make himself pull away. He reaches out to brush the hair from her eyes, still struggling for words.
"Elena…"
She shakes her own head, sighing happily. "You don't have to say anything."
But Damon wants to. He needs to. And as he looks at her beautiful face, the only words that mean anything came to him in a rush. "I love you. I guess there is something to be said about love at first sight," he says, waggling his brows playfully.
Her eyes darken, and she tilts her head, biting at her lip as she rubs her thumbs against his cheeks. "And I love you too."
Raising herself up on one elbow, Elena reaches out a hand to brush the still damp hair off of his forehead. Damon has certainly turned her world upside down. Smiling and snuggling back against his side, she lays her head against his chest, listening to Damon's heart beat in time with hers and deciding that these precious moments are as good a reason as any to open her heart to this man.
This is it.
Damon walks outside into a bright and beautiful morning, Elena following closely behind him. She's still wearing her robe and he considers for a moment if she'll go back to sleep or get dressed and head to work.
"Do you have everything?" she lets herself be heard when they stop next to his rental car.
"Yeah." He already messaged Enzo that he'll pick him up at the motel and drive to the airport. He hates having to leave her but takes heart in knowing this is only so long, not goodbye.
"I'll be back. I have two gorgeous weeks in Hawaii owed to me. When all of this- the virus I mean- is nothing but a bad memory- would you consider joining me?" Damon asks as he pushes a strand of hair off of her face.
"I'm actually owed some time off, too. I would love to," Elena replies, her lips curving into a beaming smile.
Damon pulls her into a slow and lingering kiss. And then he's sliding into the car and Elena's standing next to it, hugging herself tightly.
"I'll call as soon as I arrive in Atlanta." Damon backs out of the driveway. He stops to lower his window and gives her a wave. "I love you," he adds and drives away.
"I love you, too." Elena presses her lips to the pads of her fingers and blows a kiss in the wind...
Thank you all so very much.
Thank you, Eva.
Chapter title: 'You and Me' by Lifehouse.
Have a wonderful day and a fun and fabulous weekend.
