Author's Note: This chapter was inspired by the song "Bloodstream," by Stateless. If you recall, this was the song playing during the "Founder's Day" episode, when Damon first kissed the woman he THOUGHT was Elena, only to learn later, that it was actually KATHERINE with whom he had shared that pivotal lip lock. As you might have guessed, this chapter will feature plenty of parallels, between both Elena and Katherine, and the two brothers they both love.

8:49 Fangtasia Bar and Nightclub

Elena Gilbert may have just consumed nearly half a bottle of Jose Cuervo all by herself, but Damon was the one feeling intoxicated. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She was dancing alone in the corner, un-self-consciously, with a bottle in one hand, and the other stretched high over her head. Her eyes were closed, as her perfect pink lips mouthed the words to the song that was blasting from the speakers in the bar.

Elena swayed her hips rhythmically in perfect time with the music. Her head shook from side to side, as she moved. This caused her long dark hair to swish back and forth wildly, across her cheeks, which had taken on a rose hue, from the unique mixture of liquor and exertion.

Damon stared at her, entranced. Never, in all his time on Earth, had he ever remembered seeing something so beautiful. In this carefree moment, she reminded Damon of Katherine . . . self-assured, seductive, sexy, and dangerous. And yet, Elena was somehow more entrancing than Katherine . . . her innocence, her goodness, her humanity . . . it emanated from every pore of her trim, thinly muscled, frame.

The vampire's mouth watered. He couldn't remember ever being so hungry for a human being, in a way that did not involve draining her of all of her blood. More than anything, Damon wanted to place his fingers on Elena's soft cheeks, feel her warm mouth on his, slide his hands from the back of her slim neck to the gentle curve of her backside. In his mind, he could picture himself lifting her naked body in his arms, pulled her toward him, and making her his very own.

On the bar in front of Damon was yet another glass of bourbon. And yet, it remained miraculously untouched. Damon told himself that he simply wasn't thirsty anymore. But he knew that was untrue.

The elder Salvatore Brother had already been drunk once tonight. But now, he was staying sober, and he was doing it for Elena. Though he hated to admit it, because the thought frightened him to his very core, the job of caring for Elena had now been left solely to Damon. There was no Stefan around to guard Elena's drink from roofies . . . to ward off any creeps who tried to dance too close . . . to pull the bottle of tequila away from her at the first sign of alcohol poisoning . . . to hold her hair back, if she puked.

Sure, Damon had always protected Elena, in his own way. He kept her safe, usually by MURDERING anyone who threatened her with harm. He did it gladly. But this? This was clearly Stefan's territory.

Damon wondered when it happened that he had become the guy who took drinks AWAY from beautiful women, like Elena? In the past, he was much more likely to be the one to get them drunk, and take advantage of them.

And even if he WANTED to take Elena's bottle from her, could he really do it? Should he? Hadn't Elena EARNED a night of inebriation, after all she'd been through? If ELENA had done to DAMON what Stefan had just done to Elena, wouldn't HE TOO want nothing more than to drown his sorrows in a bottle of strong liquor? Hadn't Damon spent most of his existence coping with his problems precisely the way Elena was coping with them right now?

And yet, there was something about Elena that made Damon want to take care of her . . . not just to keep her safe . . . but to keep her healthy, happy, and, perhaps, most importantly, human. These strange thoughts and feelings were new to Damon. And he was still trying to understand what it all meant. But there would be plenty of time to navel gaze, later. For now, he had a drunken girl on his hands, who was desperately in need of his services.

Forgetting completely about the full glass of bourbon on the bar, Damon rose from his stool and moved toward Elena . . . his strong arms ready, and waiting, to catch her, if she fell. After all, intoxication, like love, doesn't come with a safety net. By the time you realize you've fallen, you are already in too deep . . .

8:55 p.m. Fangtasia Parking Lot

Katherine Petrova peered out the tinted windows of Queen Sophie Anne's stretch limousine, as it pulled into the parking lot of Fangtasia. She smiled mischievously, as she watched a group of scantily clad women and their muscular male companions, cross under the gaudy neon red sign to enter the bar. Now THIS was where she was meant to be! The air around her felt thick with anticipation and excitement. On the radio, the Black Eyed Peas were singing, "I've got a feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night." And Katherine agreed wholeheartedly.

"You are just going to adore this place, Kat, darling. It may not look like much from the outside. But, I assure you, it is EVERYTHING a vampire bar should be and much more," remarked Sophie Anne, as she removed a compact from her purse to touch up her lipstick.

Katherine raised her martini glass in a mock toast. "Whatever it is, it HAS to be better than the Only Bar / Social Establishment in Mystic Falls. I've been to funerals that were livelier than that place."

Sophie Anne shook her head sympathetically. "That town sounds dreadful! I honestly don't know how you stayed there for so long. You must have been going out of your mind with boredom."

Katherine stared off into the distance, a faraway look in her eyes, "Not as much as you would think," she replied thoughtfully.

"So, are you ready to tear up this club?" Sophie Anne inquired, shaking Katherine out of her reverie.

"Abso-f*%king-lutely," replied Katherine, as slipped on her stilettos, and prepared to exit the limo.

"Oooh, wait . . . who is THAT? That vampire is definitely NOT from around here," cooed Sophie approvingly.

"What vampire?" Katherine asked absentmindedly, while she rummaged through her purse for her cell phone.

"The one trying to bury his dead dessert in the bushes," answered Sophie, licking her lips. "Change of plans, sweetheart. We're picking up a boy, and taking this party back home."

Katherine sighed. She had REALLY been looking forward to going clubbing tonight. And yet, Sophie Anne had always been somewhat of a flake. So, her abrupt about-face, while disappointing, was not exactly surprising. "Now, let me get this straight, the Future Love of Your Life eats women in the parking lots of seedy bars, and buries their bodies in the bushes? How charming! You know, for a Queen, you sure do have AWFUL taste in men," Katherine quipped.

"Trust me, if you SAW this guy, you wouldn't be arguing with me right now. Stay in the car, I'll be right back," remarked the Queen, as she climbed over Katherine and hopped out of the limo.

Though her view had been obstructed earlier, with the limo door open, Katherine was now able to get a closer look at Queen Sophie Anne's latest "find." The Queen was right. He wasn't at all what or who Katherine was expecting. Upon seeing the vampire, Katherine gasped, and felt her throat close up. "Sophie, wait! COME BACK! PLEASE! I can't . . ." She yelled after her friend.

But it was too late. Queen Sophie was already about half a mile away, and deep in conversation with one, Stefan Salvatore.

9:02 p.m. – Fangtasia Bar and Nightclub

"Dance with me, Damon," whispered Elena, as she moved toward him, her face flushed with excitement.

He smiled broadly, extending his hand to her. Elena took it gratefully, raising it high above her head, as she orbited around Damon, in time with the music. She then spun herself toward him so fast that she nearly fell to the ground, causing him to have to pull her close to his body to keep her upright. Elena laughed hysterically when this happened, her face buried deep into his chest. The vibrations of her laughter sent shivers across Damon's entire body, and he realized, to his chagrin, that he had just become extremely hard.

"Want a drink?" Elena slurred, looking up at him with those almond-shaped brown eyes of hers, in a way that managed to be both childlike and X-rated at the same time.

Damon nodded, but when he tried to get the bottle from Elena, she danced away from him, and stuck her tongue out petulantly. "Come and get it," she teased.

Elena was quick, but she was also drunk, and certainly no match for vampire speed. Within seconds, Damon had managed to wrench the bottle out of Elena's arms. Gripping her body close to his, he moved toward the nearest table, and returned the bottle to the bartender, motioning for him to take it away. Elena pouted, "Party pooper!" She exclaimed, leaning over to bite Damon's hand.

The move caught Damon by surprise, and he instinctively released Elena from his grasp. "Did you actually just bite me, Elena Gilbert? You're in the clutches of an evil vampire, and THAT'S your defense, to BITE him?" He scolded jokingly.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Elena inquired giddily, playfully punching him in the arm. "Besides," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, as a slow song began to play, "You aren't nearly as evil, as you want everyone to think you are."

Damon smiled ruefully, and placed his hands on Elena's waist. Yep, she's definitely wasted. He thought to himself. Elena was absolutely going to be a handful tonight. Damon briefly wished his little brother was there to witness this. And yet, at the same time, he was really glad that he wasn't. How would Damon even begin to explain what was happening now?

"No . . . I'm definitely evil," he answered, as the pair swayed back and forth in time with the music.

Damon closed his eyes, breathing in Elena's scent, and stifling a groan, as the curves of her body, seemed to melt into his own. Never had he felt as incredibly happy, or as incredibly guilty, as he did in this very moment. Was it wrong to want Elena so badly right now . . . to hold her . . . to caress her skin . . . to run his fingers through her hair . . . while his own brother was off on a collision course with destruction . . . the same brother who had given up everything to save Damon's life? Yes, he thought. It was wrong, and yet the elder Salvatore Brother felt powerless to stop it.

All this time, Damon had felt free to lust after, and love, Elena from afar, knowing that her brother's loyal girlfriend would always have the good sense to fend off his advances. But now, here she was in his arms, drunk, vulnerable, and undoubtedly feeling alone in the world, as Damon, himself, so often did. If she offered herself to him now, would Damon be able to say no? And even if he could, would he really want to?

As if in answer to his question, Elena slid her arms down Damon's neck, placing her hands on either side of his face. Suddenly her lips were on his ear, "Take me back to the hotel, Damon," she whispered.

9:10 p.m. – Fangtasia Parking Lot

Queen Sophie Anne watched for a few moments with amusement, as Stefan furiously stabbed at the ground with a stick, in a futile effort to make a shallow grave for Ashley. Finally, she spoke, "You know, there are much easier ways to dispose of bodies around here. There's an incinerator behind the bar. I can show you, if you'd like."

Stefan looked up, startled and defensive, his fangs bared, ready for a fight. Look at me? I'm trying to bury a dead body in plain sight. I'm pathetic, not to mention incredibly stupid. They are going to throw me in jail, for sure. He thought to himself. Then he remembered he was in Vampire Country, and figured that these sort of things probably happened all the time, without incident. He relaxed a bit, and retracted his fangs. "It wasn't me. She was dead, when I got here," he mumbled unconvincingly.

Queen Sophie Anne laughed. "I'm sure she was," she snarked, extending her hand for Stefan to shake. "My name is Sophie Anne," she added, deciding, on instinct, to leave off the Queen Moniker, for now. (No use getting her future sex partner all riled up and nervous, for no reason.)

"I'm Damon," Stefan fibbed, tentatively taking the petite red-headed vampire's hand in his own.

"Come . . . I'll show you where the incinerator is," Sophie offered, hoisting up Ashley's corpse easily, as she walked behind the bar.

Stefan hesitated for a moment, and then followed. Within moments, the two vampires were standing before the incinerator, and Poor Ashley was just a distant ashy memory. "Well . . . thanks for your help, Sophie Anne . . . but . . . uh . . . I should really be going," he mumbled, turning to leave.

Queen Sophie Anne rushed out to block his path, grabbing Stefan's wrists so tightly they throbbed in pain. He could tell instantly, that this vampire was MUCH older than him, and significantly stronger. If they were to fight one another, he would probably lose. "Not so fast, Damon," the Queen cautioned, "I've just done you a favor. Now, it's your turn to do me one."

Stefan growled. Never look a gift vampire in the fangs. He should have known better. "What's the favor?" He asked reluctantly.

"I have an old friend in town, who is going through some tough times. She's feeling vulnerable, and hasn't exactly been acting like herself, lately," began Sophie Anne.

"I know the feeling," Stefan muttered under his breath.

"Basically, I would like you to come back to my house, and give her the best night of her life," Sophie Anne concluded. "I'll even pay you."

Stefan turned on his heel angrily, "Sorry, but I'm not a prostitute."

"OK . . . so I won't pay you. Trust me, once you see her, you'll be happy I offered. My friend is very beautiful. And, I can tell you from personal experience, she's a fantastic lover," the Queen added with a wink.

"I have a girlfriend," Stefan replied, knowing full well that wasn't true anymore (Or was it?)

"Oh . . . really . . . the one we just tossed into the Body Burner, back there?" Sophie Anne retorted, keeping stride with Stefan, as he tried in vain to escape.

Stefan cringed. Of course, the woman he had eaten was NOT his girlfriend. But she could have been. If Stefan was so quick to kill two human females, without feeling an ounce of remorse for either of the lives he had snuffed out before their time, then, who was to say, he WOULDN'T snap, and do the same thing to Elena? Elena Gilbert may have been his girlfriend before, but he CERTAINLY had no claim to her, anymore . . .

The Queen regarded Stefan from the corner of her eye as they walked. She knew a blood junkie when she saw one. The signs were all there: the crazed look in his eyes, his sweaty palms, how his body twitched when he moved, his clipped, impatient, manner of speaking, the way he had drained every OUNCE of blood out of his victim's body, so that not a single drop remained. Suddenly, Sophie Anne knew exactly what to do.

"In case you haven't noticed, Damon, I'm a very powerful person."

"Congratulations," mumbled Stefan in frustration. Why can't she leave me alone? Doesn't she know that I'm toxic?

Ignoring her new companion's snide remark, Sophie continued. "You know how humans can get pizza delivered at any time of night? Well, I get the same thing . . . only my deliveries are HUMAN. Any size, any age, either sex, any blood type, I could have what I want to drink, in five minutes flat. All I have to do is make a call. In fact, just this morning, I ordered an entire busload of B Positives, in honor of my friend's arrival. They are waiting in my basement to be consumed, as we speak . . ."

9:23 p.m. – Fangtasia Parking Lot

With every second that passed without Queen Sophie Anne returning to the car, Katherine only became more nervous. If she had anywhere else to go, she would compel the limo driver to take her to the airport, right now. But Katherine had NOWHERE to go, and nowhere else to run. Hadn't this latest "vacation" proved just that? If Stefan was in Louisiana, then Klaus couldn't be far behind. And if Klaus found Katherine NOW, there was no telling what he would do with her.

Katherine popped the cork on an expensive bottle of Merlot, and chugged the entire bottle down in a single gulp. But it did nothing to calm her fears. She consoled herself with the possibility that Stefan might never find out that she was in town. After all, the Stefan SHE KNEW would never submit to Queen Sophie Anne's advances, not when he had Saint Elena to pine over.

Suddenly, the door to the limo opened, and Queen Sophie Anne climbed inside. "Katherine, darling, I'm so sorry that I kept you waiting so long. Please allow me to introduce you to my new best friend, Damon."

Katherine gasped, as Sophie Anne's "companion" crawled into the car, looking hungrier, more menacing, and, admittedly, sexier, than she had ever seen him look before.

"Katherine Petrova," said Stefan Salvatore, as he looked the former love of his life directly in the eye. "We meet again."