A/N: Goodness gracious, guys! Over 100 reviews on TWO, count them, TWO CHAPTERS?! THAT IS INSANELY AWESOME! Y'ALL ROCK!

All the thanks to Trogdor19 for beta'ing, and may she not be voluntarily spiraling into a water vortex filled with nemo fishes because past tense is whackadoodle and the world has to be delivered on a silver platter by tomorrow. EVERYONE! Go check out her season 5 re-write In Time We Trust because DAYUM, does that girl write some wicked wicked smut. OOH LA LA!

Enjoy!

Chapter 3: The Right to be Silent

"Elena!" Caroline exclaims and starts scrambling to get away from me, but if I let her go then her whole body is going to be exposed along with my erection and God, this is so bad.

"I'm…uh…" Elena stutters. I flare my eyes pointedly at her, and she finally gets the memo and spins around so she's facing the door, her back to us.

I pull my fingers out of Caroline in the definition of awkward, and when I set her down she darts away to snatch up her jeans and yank on her shirt, backwards and inside out, while I tuck myself into my pants. Elena sucks in a breath at the sound of my zipper and for some reason, I almost want to laugh. Except this is about ten miles away from funny.

"What are you doing home so soon?" Caroline asks to Elena's stiffened back, her voice breathless and too quick.

"Why wouldn't I come home?" Elena hisses and this time I do laugh, and her head jerks to the side and then towards the door again.

"We're dressed, it's fine," I chuckle and bend to pick up my shirt from the floor. I'm still threading my arms through the sleeves when Elena turns around.

"I didn't mean to interrupt, I'm sorry, I'll just…go…" she mumbles and I snort. Which apparently was another inappropriate response, because her embarrassed gaze turns into twenty shades of pissed off, all aimed in my direction. "I don't see anything funny about this, Damon," she blasts at me and I bite my cheeks against a grin, starting to button my shirt.

"Wait, do you know each other?" Caroline asks, her head snapping between me and Elena.

"Yeah," I tell Caroline and her eyebrow arches. Oh, for fuck's sake. "We work together."

"Oh," she says and shrugs it off, just like that. Which is exactly why she and I are cool. "Wait…you're that Damon?" she asks with a knowing smile and looks at Elena, whose whole face burns red and I wouldn't be surprised if Caroline were to burst into flames from the look she's getting.

I grin and look at Elena, my head tilted curiously as I finish buttoning my shirt.

"If I said anything, it's that you're an immature, sleezy asshole," she snaps at me and my head jerks back in response.

"Elena!" Caroline scolds and her friend crosses her arms.

"Well," I say dramatically, "it's been fun, ladies, but I think I'll be going."

"Damon-" Caroline starts and I cut her off.

"It's fine," I smile at her and step forward to leave, but I pause to leave a chaste kiss on her cheek because she's not the jealous, irrational one in the room and I see no reason to burn this bridge. "See you later," I tell her and she nods, lightly squeezing my bicep.

Bridge firmly intact. At least something went right tonight.

"Elena," I say sweetly as I stroll past her, reaching for the door. She huffs and looks away, and the last thing I hear before I close the door behind me is Caroline asking Elena why she smells like smoke.

I think there's something wrong with me, because I can't remember ever being at work this early before. And by all means, I should be sneaking in at the last minute to avoid the brunette that has probably planted anthrax on my headset, but eight forty-nine A.M. and here I am.

I didn't get more than an hour of sleep last night, and that's really annoying. I don't see what the big damn deal is. Elena and I hung out for a few minutes, whoop-di-freaking-do. It's not like we had sex and I bolted before she was dressed to go sleep with someone else. I have every right to screw anyone I damn well please, and that just so happened to be her roommate. Again, is that any reason for her to act like I'm cheating on her or something? Fuck no.

It's also not the first time I've been walked in on, and I doubt it was the first time for Caroline either. Who cares? It's just sex. But Elena making such a fuss about it must have fucked my head all up, so that's gotta get straightened out. And now.

I swipe my badge and head inside the building, earning a surprised glance or two from the people I pass because I'm not running. Bite me.

Surprise to no one, both Elena and Ric are already here, sitting at their desks and chatting quietly before we log in at nine. Ric's eyes widen when he sees me, leaning back in his chair and looking like he wants to applaud. Which must tip off the Prude Princess because she gets that same damn rod in her back, pointedly not turning to look in my direction.

"Never been big on the book of Revelations, but should we be expecting some horsemen to come through here later?" Ric asks and I roll my eyes, sitting at my desk.

"Pretty sure they already made their rounds," I mutter and fire up my computer, seeing Elena shake her head out of the corner of my eye.

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee, because I actually had time to stop and pick some up, and I'm still early.

"So, what was with last night?" he asks and I turn to face him.

"What do you mean?" I ask and take another drink.

"Who was the skirt that captured your attention so thoroughly that you never showed?" he says and I choke on my coffee, sputtering a bit. "What?"

Elena slams her drawer closed when she puts something away, and I draw a finger across my neck in a plea for Ric to shut the fuck up, and his eyes bulge. His gaze flickers between me and Elena, and when I cock an eyebrow, his face hardens in a glare.

He launches to his feet and I lean back, but he still grabs me by the collar of my shirt and hauls me to my feet, coffee spilling onto my desk, and I stumble to keep up while he drags me down the aisle.

"Watch the shirt," I scowl and bat his hand away, and nine long years of friendship are the only things keeping me from resisting the urge to kick out the back of his knee as I continue following behind him. But the urge comes right back when he rounds on me as we hit the break room.

"Are you really that stupid?" he asks and I stand a little taller.

"First, you're supposed to be my friend," I snap and he swallows. "And second," I say and glance around, checking to make sure no one is in ear shot. "I didn't sleep with her," I hiss and he relaxes a little more.

"Then what the hell is going on?"

"Look, I ran into her last night and we hung out for a bit." He cocks his eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes. "We were in a public place. Nothing happened."

"So…"

"So, I got a call," I say and clear my throat, "and I left to go take care of it."

He crosses his arms and I sigh.

"Elena walked in on me and the 'call,'" I tell him and his eyes bulge again. He's going to give himself eyestrain if he doesn't cut that shit out.

"How does that even happen?"

"Because, it was kind of her roommate," I snicker and take a sip of coffee, and proceed to spill some down my shirt when he shoves me. "Dammit, Ric!"

"Look, I am your friend," he growls, pointing at me threateningly, "but that girl doesn't need this kind of crap in her life."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means…you just need to keep it professional between you and her and nothing else."

I tilt my head at him. "Are you seriously telling me to stay away from her?"

"Yeah," he says seriously, and I cock an eyebrow.

"You realize I'm going to do whatever the hell I want, and that sounded dangerously close to a dare."

"Damon-"

"No, I got it," I tell him harshly. "And don't worry about me, or her. She's mighty pissed about the whole thing thanks to hormones and estrogen and other rational-response-erasers and I don't have time for this shit," I snap and grab some napkins before I walk off, glaring at the two people hanging outside the break room that were probably listening in.

I get back to my chair and wipe up the spilled coffee on myself and the desk, logging into my phone.

"Have fun talking about me?" Elena says quietly and I scoff, putting on my headset.

"Always do," I whisper, and when she turns to glare at me, I smirk at her.

I slam the Auto In button as Ric comes back up the aisle.

"Claims reporting, this is Damon." How may I piss you off today?

I don't think this day can go any slower. It's only five o'clock and I've got three hours to go and the tension between the three of us is nauseating. At least no one else has seemed to notice, because the rest of the people in our row and practically the whole damn building have been consistently swinging by, Elena giggling with her girlfriends and Ric talking about some damn game, but I am not in the mood.

And call volume is low, but that almost makes it worse. Because the silence that is settling over our little triangle is deafening.

I'm thinking another date with a punching bag is absolutely on my itinerary tonight. But for now, it's filled to the brim with sitting in my chair with my head leaned back, eyes closed and twirling a pen between my fingers as I wait for a call.

Three more hours.

"Damon," my boss says and my eyes fly open.

"Hey, Jeremy. How's it going?" I say casually, but his face is too tight and dammit, I don't need this now.

"You got a minute?"

"Sure." I force a smile and switch my phone status into a meeting code, setting down my headset and following him back to his desk.

"So, how have you been?" he asks as I take a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair inside his higher-walled cubicle.

"Fine. Same old same old."

"Good," he nods, his hands folded in his lap.

It annoys the shit out of me when he acts like he's some middle-aged corporate end-all-be-all, when the only reason he has a larger desk than I do, despite being a year younger than me, is because he spent two years in the Air Force before he cut shit and ran into the safety of our call center. But apparently that qualifies him to jerk me around with a bachelor's in fake camaraderie when all I want is to be left alone to do my damn job.

"Pulled some calls, they sounded good."

I nod once, wishing he'd get on with whatever the fuck this is actually about. I know he doesn't want to talk about my calls. We have to "check in" once every few weeks and he hit me up last week, so I already know this has nothing to do with what's happening on the phone.

"So, I wanted to have a little one on one with you today, just talk about some stuff…"

Is that right? 'Cause I thought you wanted to be alone to stalk your ex-girlfriend on Facebook, which is how you usually spend your workday.

"And Damon, we're all on the same team here…"

Sure we are, because everyone who feels like people have their back has to be told this.

"And your personal life is your business…"

Damn right it is. So why the fuck are you talking about it?

"But when it comes into the work place, I have to say something."

"I'm sorry," I say and shake my head. "What, exactly, is coming into the workplace?"

He sighs and shifts in his seat, his voice dropping to a quiet tone that I really, really hate when he says, "I was approached by someone who said they were made uncomfortable by certain behaviors they have witnessed you exhibiting, relayed in conversations they overheard."

"Excuse me?"

There's no way I just heard that right.

"Look, Damon, I'm on your side," Jeremy tells me, and I barely resist scoffing. "But, just try to keep conversations about your outside activities a little more…private, in the future. Before this has to go to the next level."

Wow. Fucking wow.

That bitch.

Now she's screwing with my job?

"Just so I'm clear," I say, doing my best to stay calm, "is this from someone listening in on a private conversation, or is it from witnessing certain behaviors?"

He clears his throat and when I widen my eyes impatiently, he balks a little. Jeremy knows good and damn well that in any other situation, I could have his arm snapped and jaw broken before he could even blink, and it's his shit luck that he has to deliver this news to me. And the scrawny little fucker looks like he's a little worried that I'm gonna beat him down right here.

I need to calm down. The last thing I need is my boss filing a complaint on me too.

"I really can't specify," he says super diplomatically and I arch an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you can't specify who it was that raised this complaint either, can you?"

"Damon," he says in a warning tone and I shake my head.

"Right, sorry. I just…" I trail off and look away.

I can't fucking believe this shit.

He waits a minute before he gains the courage to speak. "Right now, this conversation is just between us, and I'd like to keep it that way," he tells me, his voice dropping again. "I don't have to report it to HR unless I get another…"

"Complaint?" I offer and he winces, then leans forward with his elbows on his knee to try to recover.

"This is a verbal coaching, and that's it. So just…make sure it stays that way." He offers me a smile like that's supposed to make this okay. Fat fucking chance. "So," he says and blows out a breath, leaning back in his chair. "Anything else you want to go over while you're here? How's the call volume been treating you?"

"Fine," I say quickly.

"No issues with burnout? Because there are always opportunities to move into other departments. Your calls are good and your stats are pretty solid-"

"I'm good, Jeremy. But thanks," I tell him and he nods.

"Alright." He glances at his clock. "Look, it's 5:15 now, call volume is low so why don't you go take an extra break on me, and we'll call the meeting over at 5:30. Sound good?"

"Sure," I say and tap my hands twice on the armrests before I rise and immediately turn to leave the building.

There better be someone smoking out there because I need a damn cigarette like it's the only thing that's going to keep me from tearing this place apart, and I quit smoking two years ago.

I need some damn air.

I need space.

I need to be far fucking away from Elena fucking Gilbert.

"You okay, man?" Ric asks as we both shut down our computers, logging off for the day.

At least it's just us because Queen Gilbert left two hours ago after scoring an Early Release because the calls just flat out stopped coming in, and someone in a back room in charge of balancing labor costs to call volume probably had a heart attack and started shrieking "Get them off the floor! Now!"

"Not really," I grit out, and he nods because we've been friends for long enough that he can tell when I'm about ready to kill anyone who sneezes wrong in my vicinity.

"Something to do with your talk with Jeremy?"

"Yep."

I stand and grab my keys, and I'm storming down the aisle before he can say anything else. I have my engine screaming out of the parking lot before Ric probably left his chair, and I'm headed straight to a damn bar.

I stop at the nearest one I can find, and even after ignoring two different girls that are interested and downing two beers in ten minutes, I still can't believe Elena fucking reported me.

And I'm only getting angrier.

If she has a problem with me she can own up to it and talk to me like a damn adult, not go whining to our boss like I pulled her pigtails during recess.

You know what? Fuck her. If she won't confront me, then I'll do it.

I drop some cash on the bar and I'm back in my car, racing down the same streets I took last night, just with a very different purpose.

The hot summer night air sticks to my skin as I take the outdoor stairs three at a time when I get to the apartment, and my fist is testing the strength of the door before I can tell myself this is a bad idea.

"Damon?" Caroline asks when she answers it, a little confused at seeing me when we both know she didn't call me over here to fuck her, but she's trying not to let it show.

"Elena here?" I ask and she swallows, but then brushes it off.

Good, I don't have the patience for the jealousy shit today.

"Sure. Elena!" she calls out and smiles at me before she turns to go somewhere else inside the apartment, leaving the door open.

Her Royal Grace comes out of her bedroom, inconceivably wearing tight jeans and a tighter t-shirt and her eyes widening when she sees me filling up the frame of her front door.

"Damon? What are you doing here?" she asks when she stops in front of me.

"I'm here for our date," I say and smile, though it feels more like a grimace.

"What?" she gasps.

"You know, the one where I lose my shit because you fucking reported me to Jeremy!" I shout and she recoils.

"Okay, you need to calm down," she says slowly, and it only burns me up more. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that if you have a problem with me, you need to say it to my face instead of running off and filing a complaint on me and screwing with my damn job."

She shakes her head. "I didn't report anything, Damon."

"Sure you didn't," I sneer. "Because you're not pissed at all about the fact that I flirted with you and you liked it, and then you caught me with someone else."

She swallows and glances down, and I scoff.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Her head snaps up and I brace myself.

"First," she says harshly, "I'm not stupid. I knew what you were doing and I don't know why you even bothered. I don't care how much you flirt with me or try to charm your way into my pants, it's never going to happen."

"What makes you think I even want you?" I hiss, and her chin lifts. "You're a stuck up, frigid bitch with your head so far up your own ass that you can probably smell your own cheap perfume."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she shouts. "You do not get to come beat on my door and insult me. And here's a newsflash for you, Damon. Want to know why the only thing you can get is a one-night stand? Because no woman wants to be with 24-year-old boy whose whole world is wrapped up in booze and cars and getting off. Grow the hell up."

"Fuck you," I sneer. "You don't know a damn thing about me. And you're what? Twenty-seven? I'll listen to you being all high and mighty when you're not sharing a two-bedroom apartment like you're still in college. Oh, and congratulations on still being unmarried at your age."

"Get off my porch," she seethes at me, her lip quivering and eyes watering. "I don't want you here ever again, and the same goes for Caroline."

I step closer so I'm towering over her. "You don't get to tell me where I go and who I fuck, Elena. Get over it."

"Leave, Damon," she says quietly. "Before I call the police."

I nod. "Right, because why handle your own shit when you can go tattle like a fourth grader?"

"I told you, I didn't report you!"

"Then who the hell did?" I shout, immediately wishing I hadn't.

Because the last thing I want, or need, are the small traces of pity that are overtaking the corners of her eyes and mouth.

She sniffles and hugs her arms around herself, glancing at the ground for a minute before her eyes dare to re-find mine. And when they do, we're both just staring at each other, me still breathing hard from yelling and completely speechless because dammit, I believe her.

And that makes me the biggest ass in history. Because I just pounded on her door and accused her of reporting me at work because I thought she was jealous, and she isn't. She has no interest in me, whatsoever.

I showed up at her apartment and called her a frigid bitch, and she isn't that either. Not if she can go from completely pissed off to worried in less time than it takes me to say her name.

God, I don't even know what to do at this point.

I'm too pissed off to consider apologizing and there's nothing I could say anyways. Because she didn't do a damn thing wrong except humor me last night when I was coming on to her and then dealt with me being a dick this morning, and I'm still furious but I have no idea who at, but I do know she doesn't deserve to catch the brunt of it when we're not even friends and what the fuck am I doing here?

Worst day ever.

She shifts her weight and sniffles again because I made her cry, and I'm such a piece of shit.

"Fuck!" I grit out and turn to leave.

"Damon, wait," she says softly when I take the first step, and I shake my head, but I still pause with my back to her and I don't know why. "Are you in a lot of trouble?"

I scoff and continue the rest of the way down the stairs. And I don't look when I get in my car, but out of my peripheral vision I see her go inside and close the door.

I really, really don't want to think about how uncomfortable it must be for her to know that I've been inside her apartment, screwing her friend, when she wasn't there.

I wince when I realize I fucked her roommate on the couch she's probably curled up on right now.

I pull away and slam my fist against the steering wheel, because yeah, like work isn't going to be awkward or anything now. At least I don't have to see her until Thursday, because she's always off on Wednesdays.

Ric was right, she doesn't deserve this crap in her life.

If there is a God she will act like none of this ever happened.

God, I need to get drunk. Like right—

Mother fucker.

Red and blue lights just flashed in my rearview mirror and I chuckle humorlessly to myself, pulling off to the side of the road. Awesome. Can't wait to see what ticket I'm going to get that I can't afford.

I try to control my temper while I wait for the cop to run my license plate from inside his car, finally getting out and meandering up to my door five minutes later.

"'Evening," he says when he's at my window. "I'm Office Wallace with the Austin Police Department. May I see your license and registration."

Yeah, that's not a fucking question, but sure, have at it.

I hand him both, tapping my thumb impatiently against the wheel while he checks them over.

"Where you headed, Mr. Salvatore?" he asks and I look at him.

"Home."

"Where you coming from?"

"Friend's. There a problem?"

"I'm going to need you to turn off the engine and step out of the vehicle, please," he says and steps back.

What. The. Fuck.

"Hands where I can see them," he tells me while I unbuckle my seatbelt and open my door, stepping out of the car.

"Maybe I didn't hear you, but why did you pull me over?" I ask as I shut my car door.

He squares his shoulders, sizing me up. "We got a call about a domestic disturbance at an apartment a few blocks back. The man left in a vehicle whose description fits this one."

"Great." I sigh. "Look, got into an argument with a friend over something stupid. She's fine, I left, it's done. I'm going home."

He squints at me. "Wait here."

I roll my eyes as he moseys back to his car, and I lean against mine, crossing my arms.

This is unreal. She better not have called the fucking cops on me.

I take a deep breath and blow it out. I don't need to accuse her of anything else that I don't absolutely know. 'Cause look where that got me?

But still, if I find out she's responsible for this… Oh, buddy.

The cop finally comes back and I'm waiting for my all clear when he says, "You been drinking tonight, Mr. Salvatore?"

My eyes widen. "What?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Unbelievable," I mumble, then shrug. "Few beers. I'm not drunk."

"Then you won't mind blowing into this for me," he says and holds out a Breathalyzer.

"Actually, I do mind," I snap before I think better of it. "And if you think I'm walking in a straight line or balancing on one foot you're out of your damn mind. There's no disturbance, I wasn't speeding and my car is legal. So you gonna let me go, or what?"

"Turn around and place your hands on the car," he growls at me and I grimace, but do as he says. "You carrying any weapons or drugs you want to declare?"

I lock my jaw shut and he starts patting me down, taking my wallet and my employee badge out of my pocket and setting them on the roof of my car.

Yep, real dangerous.

"You familiar with 'no refusal laws'?" he asks and I don't respond, but yeah, I know all about those dirty sons of bitches because they've gotten four of my friends, but never me. "Well, you're about to be."

My brain is screaming "fuck you" and my muscles are shaking, desperate for a fight, and why did I have to go to a bar tonight? Why did I have to go scream at Elena? Why the hell couldn't I have just gone home or gone to Ric's or to the gym or to a dozen places that didn't end up with me on the side of the road, getting felt up by a doughnut muncher while people I know are probably driving by and laughing their asses off?

What the hell is wrong with me?

He takes my right hand and places it at the small of my back, metal clasping around my wrist, and I shake my head as he pulls my left hand to join.

"Mr. Salvatore, you have the right to remain silent…"

Yeah, tell me something I don't fucking know.

A/M: DUN DUN DUUUUUUN! I know I know, it's so mean to Damon! (But he kinda deserved it.) Can't wait to hear your thoughts and don't forget to click those buttons, because things only get more AU from here!

-Goldnox