AN: Thanks to all who reviewed and alerted. Your sweet words keep inspiring me and I really need that right now to get rid of this mild writer's block I have. Don't worry though because I still have a stash of chapters written and ready to be published for you. Anyway, I am so excited for you guys to read this chapter. I am so proud of it and I can't wait to know if you like it. Here you have chapter nine.

Happy reading,

Mydarkside975

Chapter Nine: Free as a Bird

Elena

"What the hell were you doing?" Caroline said and crossed her arms like she just caught a kid with her hands in the cookie jar.

"What did it look like?" Elena said holding her head high.

"It looks like you've lost your mind."

"Why? Because I kissed a guy?" Elena exclaimed. They were getting louder and louder.

"No, because you kissed Damon friggin Salvatore."

"You are sleeping with his brother."

"…who is not an asshole, drug addict and man-slut. Elena he drugged me!"

Elena was reeling. She was being judged and by her best friend who ironically was doing something not very different from what she just did. At least Elena did not stab anyone in the back, well, not really.

"Is this you getting back at me for dating Stefan?" Caroline said in a soft voice like the truth just dawned on her.

"For once Caroline, something I did is not about you." A hurt look took over Caroline's features. "I thought you had forgiven me." She had… at least she thought, she had.

"You've had countless guys, hell you just broke up with one. Why couldn't you keep it in your pants with this one?" Elena went on. She could deal with an angry Caroline but she could not handle a hurt one.

"Well not all of us can stay celibate for years like you…" Caroline said with a somewhat lower volume but sure enough, she was angry. "…of course you wouldn't understand. How long is it since you've been with a guy, Elena?"

Elena felt like she just got slapped. She did not mean for things to turn around on her and she definitely did not want to discuss this.

"You should not judge people like that, Caroline." She finally said in a lower tone, turning the conversation back to safe grounds. "You don't know him."

"But I know you, Elena, and you are not this girl. He is the kind that changes women like he changes underwear. He'll hurt you." Caroline said softly. She obviously regretted her previous outburst but Elena had enough.

"Maybe I am this girl. Maybe I want a one night stand with some random guy. It's my life, Caroline and no one. Not you, not Bonnie get to decide things for me," she said as she turned around and left her friend standing dumbfounded watching her walk away.

Damon

"So do you think we can ever have a conversation without ending it with a fight?" He said as he sat on the bar stool next to hers putting his drink on the bar.

"You started the fight, last time," she answered but he glimpsed a smile tugging at her lips.

"Maybe we should do this again the right way," he said and she lifted one eyebrow in question.

He reached out his hand. "Damon Salvatore, a pleasure to meet you."

She caught on to his plan and shook his hand saying; "Elena Gilbert, the pleasure is mine."

"So, Elena, if I may call you that…" She waved him on. "… What do you do?" He was going to play this all the way out.

"I'm a journalist." Her chin lifted a bit as she said it.

"What do you write about?"

She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before she answered; "Right now, I cover events and write about celebrities in New York, but that is not my ultimate goal."

"Then what is?"

At his question, her eyes started to sparkle and her face lighted up like a Christmas tree. "I want to write about important things, things that matter. Like child hunger, political repression, human trafficking…" she trailed off then picked up again. "I want to bring attention to things that happen in the world that no one else cares to talk about. I want to… sorry, you don't want to hear all this" She took a sip of her drink.

"On the contrary, I want to know. It's why I asked." She was damn passionate about her work. He could see it in every breath she took. How remarkable must it be to feel so greatly about what you do.

"So tell me, Damon, what do you do?" She resumed their little game but what could he say exactly? That he spent his days sleeping and his nights drinking and sleeping around? But she probably already knew that about him so why rehash. "Right now I'm talking to a beautiful woman and in a second I'm gonna ask her to dance with me." He flashed her his winning smirk as he opted for deflection. He reached his hand and asked her to dance. To his surprise, she agreed. She took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor.

To this moment, Damon had smoothly pushed thoughts of their steamy-make-out-session-in-plain-view out of his head but when he had her back in his arms, his hand touching the bare skin of her back; he could not stop the thoughts from rushing to the forefront of his mind. She was beautiful but a lot of women were, yet she was a completely different creature.

There seemed to be an electrical current running between them at all times and whenever he touched her, it flared and intensified. He could nearly hear it buzzing. He had to work really hard to keep his mind from short circuiting and making him jump her right there on the dance floor like a crazed animal.

He tried to keep the small talk going never veering from completely safe subjects and he found that talking about her job was the safest bet. She lighted up every time but she also loved talking about her other job. She was apparently a yoga teacher as well – which definitely threw him in a loop for a minute before he managed to pull his mind out of the gutter and back to reality. He also found out that she lived with two friends in Brooklyn one of whom none other than Blondie.

A couple of times, she tried to ask him about his own life but when he kept giving her vague non-answers then changed the subject, she stopped and let him lead the conversation as well as the dance.

They were already three songs in, when her phone rang and she excused herself for a couple of minutes before she came back to the bar where he was waiting. First she looked a little guilty but when she saw him, she smiled. "It seems like I have been abandoned," she said and he offered to buy her a drink. He thought; they might have fought or something. Her friend was too protective of her to just leave her here, with him.

Three drinks and a conversation about the meaning of life later, he offered to drive her home. She refused. He insisted and called his driver to bring the car around.

He led her out the lobby doors, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, his hand on the small of her back. The car was already there but when he moved to open the door for her, she stopped him. "Wait. I have a better idea," she said her eyes sparkling. "Come on." She grabbed his hand and started walking down the sidewalk. He waved the driver away. There was no choice but to follow her.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

They walked for two more minutes then she started walking down the stairs to a subway station. He was about to stop her. He had never taken the subway before; too many people knew his face and being stuck underground with hordes of people and no fast escape used to make his skin crawl. Tonight though, he did not really care and she looked very determined to take him down there so he kept his mouth shut and let her drag him with her.

It was filthy. The floors were covered in old dried out patches of gum, the walls, covered in all kinds of posters had a thick layer of something black maybe soot and the air was getting stale as they walked deeper into the ground. There was not that many people left this late but he could imagine how horrible it must be during rush hour.

He had no idea where they were and how the hell she knew where to go next. It amazed him that she seemed used to being down there like she did it every day. Was it even safe for pretty girls to be there this late?

The sound of a lonely guitar caught his attention. It drifted towards them from inside a tunnel. When she led him into the tunnel, the sound intensified and he recognized the tune; Free as a bird by the Beatles. The sound filled the space with an otherworldly atmosphere. A kind of wild loose hand was playing the song and the voice singing the words was almost husky. He had never heard such a wild, different version of it before but it worked like magic. The artist was a guy with dreadlocks, too short pants and a beaten up guitar. It was a miracle it still produced such an amazing sound.

They stopped there watching him play and Damon let the sound fill him up like it filled the space around them. Suddenly, he realized that the stale air and filthy floors did not bother him at all. In fact, it was kind of… nice, to be there in this underground world with stale air, low ceilings, wild music… and her hand in his. He felt… free.

He knew she was gouging his reaction so when the realization hit him, he looked at her and smiled. She smiled back and he had the most pressing urge to kiss her but she was the one who pulled him closer and smashed her lips to his. Her kiss was soft yet passionate like everything else about her. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt completely free. Free from his thoughts, free from everyone else's... and just simply free.

AN: Thank you for reading. Sooo, what did you think? I am sitting on nails waiting for your response to this chapter and the Delena moment ;)