Author's note: Hi, everyone!

Thank you for your beautiful support. I'm enormously grateful for all the lovely feedback this story has gotten.

Let's earn our M rating! :D This one's going to get steamy.

Damon paced about the parlor. The crystal was gone – gone – completely destroyed. Decades of hopes, plans – 145 whole years devoted to the dream of being reunited with Katherine, dashed in an instant when that Bennett bitch betrayed him and went back on their deal, shattering his heart along with his crystal.

He should have killed her. He should have finished ripping her fucking throat out. Watching over the Bennett line – for this!?

There had to be another way. There had to be – he couldn't simply leave her there, to suffer in perpetuity. Not when her sweet face filled him with such warmth, such comfort – such ardent love.

He knew it instantly; from the moment he met her – the moment he laid eyes on her. She would be the one for him, forever.

And even though she seemed to bring him nothing but yearning and pain, some part of him knew that she was his key to everlasting happiness. The moment he saw her – in the next breath, he was hers.

For all eternity.

He had to find another way. He had to save her.

Maybe consulting with Bree again would help – she knew exactly what to do with the crystal, so maybe there's a loophole? He poured himself another tumbler of bourbon, willing himself to calm down as he watched the flames in the fireplace dance.

He'd find a way. He had to. He'd be reunited with her soon, and then he'd be happy – then he'd have the life and love he'd always dreamt of, and he'd be complete.

Damon let the flames relax him, soothe him to the point that he almost missed the unmistakable sound of breathing in the room – the steady heartbeat. He turned instantly and saw her – her! – for a fraction of a second, his mind almost played a trick on him, and he thought he saw Katherine. Katherine, looking at him with such open affection – the love he could only imagine in dreams – but no. It was Elena. It had to be, right? Katherine was still trapped in the tomb.

Except Elena would never look at him like that, either, would she? He'd never even seen her gaze at Stefan with such open love, and they were supposed to be 'epic,' he inwardly sneered.

She took one step closer to him, two, in quick succession, her smile widening with each movement, overjoyed at the proximity of him.

Damon instinctively took a step back, confused by her behavior, his senses instinctively searching his surroundings for subterfuge. Was this another trick? Was someone waiting around a corner to vervain him or worse?

He'd let Stefan trick him twice – never again.

Elena frowned immediately at his behavior, tilting her head this way and that in confusion. "Damon? What's wrong?"

He pasted a sardonic smirk on his handsome face, perfectly sculpted through years of practice. "I thought your crystalmancy display earlier today was subpar. I made the trek all the way back to Mystic Falls because I was promised a gorgeous shiny projectile show, and instead I get a novice witch screaming like a toddler while she destroys the only object that could return the love of my life," he replied with faux joviality, then dropped his voice to affect a cool, almost dangerous tone. "Underwhelming. Zero stars."

Elena visibly flinched at his moniker for Katherine, despite knowing that he didn't actually mean it, even if he thought he did. Still, hearing those words leave his lips hurt much more than she anticipated it would. She allowed herself a deep sigh, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. Why couldn't the spell ever send her to that blissful Summer? Maybe someday it would, and after that time's Elena had gone to sleep, she and Damon could sneak away for a few escapades of their own.

But no – the spell placed her in a period when he was still deep in the throes of his devotion to Katherine.

So, this was the night when the combined might of Emily and Bonnie destroyed the crystal that would allow easy and safe passage out of the tomb that didn't actually hold Katherine Pierce.

"You'd better have a hell of an encore to make it worth my while," he growled, letting his fangs elongate, crimson flooding his eyes, his blue irises looking almost electric in contrast.

She understood the subtle threat but had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes at him. She knew Damon would never hurt her – couldn't, even with his humanity off.

It was all just empty posturing, at least where she was concerned. Although he succeeded with his dramatically empty threats when he first rolled into town, by now, she knew him much better. Instead, she decided to humor him, to perhaps throw him a bit off course. At the very least, it might be entertaining for her before the inevitable memory merge happened and she'd have her Damon back.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked cheekily, cocking her head to the side in a manner eerily reminiscent of his.

He frowned at her for a moment, not expecting this response. What the hell was she playing it? By now, she definitely knew that he was a dangerous predator – he'd proven as much, multiple times. Maybe she was stalling until Saint Steffie arrived to save her from his debauched brother. He leveled a calculating gaze at her, that he quickly masked with a cocksure countenance, ready to call her bluff. He made a sultry, slow approach toward her.

She stood her ground, only arching an eyebrow in response, waiting for him to answer her question.

He slowly moved her hair to the side, exposing her neck, watching her carefully for any reaction.

"I've always wondered what she tasted like as a human. Bit of a second-rate knock-off, but I guess you'll do," Damon said cruelly, his fangs inching toward her neck.

That hurt. Before she had any conscious awareness of what was happening, Elena's hand shot out and slapped Damon across the face. Katherine must still be a trigger for her, she surmised.

It began.

The telltale sign of Damon quite suddenly closing his eyes tightly, looking almost pained for a few seconds, indicated to Elena that the merging of consciousnesses began. Her experience with a younger, human Damon solidified the theory that each time this happened, she encountered an almost hybrid version of Damon – one whose personality clearly dominated by the physical body before her, with just the memories and experiences of his future selves influencing his behavior.

And this Damon was still wholeheartedly in love with Katherine, she lamented. He was about to discover that the woman whose face she shared betrayed him in the worst way, despite his ardent devotion to rescuing her for nearly a century and a half.

With a gasp, his eyes opened, suddenly clear – his first reaction a bitter, almost boisterous laugh. "She was never in the tomb, was she?" Damon asked as soon as his memories merged with the other versions of himself who met the Specter. With the memories, however, came his humanity – suddenly bolting into him, overwhelming him.

It was so much – too much.

Katherine wasn't in the tomb. She was never in the tomb. He was an idiot. He wasn't worthy of love, like he always believed.

But wait…

Katherine's face – so kind, and full of love. No, not Katherine.

It was never Katherine.

His eyes widened almost comically as he stared at her, dumbfounded, as his mind flashed back to the happiest and most devastating day of his teenage years – a memory that seemed hidden from him until this moment, yet always there, just tickling his subconscious, elusive.

The girl he'd met and lost that day – so warm, and vibrant, and filled with love for him – smiled at him in a way that made everything inside him catch ablaze in ardent passion and melt fervent adoration.

He was hers, in every conceivable way. And he'd stay that way, forevermore.

"He's – clever, almost too clever – so clever that he's able to fool himself quite easily, especially in matters of his own worth. I wish he would see himself like I see him. He's incredibly brave, and cares more fiercely than anyone I've ever met. And funny – he never fails to make me laugh, even when I'm miserable. He's saved my life more times than I could count, both through his courage and his wit. He has this enormous capacity for love, and it's breath-taking. I love him more than I ever thought humanly possible. He's the best person I know. You'd love him, Damon, if you gave the idea half a chance."

He remembered being so achingly jealous when he heard those words – thinking how lucky the man she described must be – how undeserving, because how could anyone possibly deserve someone as heavenly as her? And then the merge of consciousnesses occurred, and he was suddenly filled with his future memories and experiences and learned the happiest news.

He didn't think it was possible to love someone so much.

Damon winced visibly at his lost battle with his humanity switch. Fifty years off, and back in an instant.

All the empathy – the ability to love – that he'd pushed away for decades in the fight to keep his switch off came rushing back instantly. It was overwhelming.

"But, Damon, please remember - I hope so badly that you're able to remember, at least a little. You are so deserving of love – you're amazing. If your parents can't see that, then they're the ones at fault. None of this is yours. You're a beautiful person, who looks out for his brother. And someday, you're going to be unapologetically happy. And they'll never be able to hurt you again. No one will. I'll make sure of it. I'll protect you, and I'll keep you safe, okay?"

Right after he cried – literally wept – on her shoulder, like a gigantic fucking pussy. Oh God. Fuck.

So that's why he immediately fell for –. That was why. That was why – and he just almost ripped her friend's throat out and threatened to do the same to her, right after calling her a second-rate knock-off of Katherine. Fuck.

Elena shook her head sympathetically and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, placing as much distance between them as possible, looking down at her hands.

"Why are you sitting so far away? You think I'll hurt you?" he asked, unable to hide the pain in his own voice, then inwardly growling at his own vulnerability as he got up to leave the room. He had to get out of here. The immediate rush of empathy from his returning humanity and the guilt that came with it was threatening to undo him entirely. He could feel hot tears teasing his eyes, and he couldn't do that in front of her – not again.

Not after he almost killed her friend. Threatened to kill her. He wouldn't have ever done it, but she didn't know that.

And now she was terrified of him, and would never love him again, because he was unlovable. She saw him for the monster that he really was.

Except she didn't seem all that terrified a few seconds ago.

No, she had to have been acting, waiting for Stefan to come in and drug him again. That had to be what was going on. The last memory wasn't all that assailed his mind. He was suddenly filled with all the despair, longing he'd felt while she was with his brother.

"It'll always be Stefan."

It'll always be Stefan, he confirmed – for everyone. He had to get out of there.

"No!" Elena cried, alarmed, running to catch him. Gingerly, she cupped his face, her heart clenching at the raw openness in his eyes. "I know you would never hurt me, Damon."

"Then why?" He searched her eyes helplessly, aghast at his own inability to hide his feelings as his humanity assailed him. In his future memories, he realized that it returned incrementally, over a period of months – but now, it came rushing back all at once, and it was enough to engulf him in a sea of flames. He was burning, and all that was left was her, and he couldn't let her see that – couldn't let her see the unconstrained love in his eyes.

He had to get out of there, he had to – no. She looked so sad. He couldn't leave this way. He never could.

She folded in on herself, just a little, lowering her head, her eyes downcast. "Because I didn't think you'd want to be around me right now."

"Why wouldn't I want to be around you, Elena?" he asked softly, cupping her face before he could think better of it, just like she'd done to him when he desperately needed it once upon a time – back when he was a human teenage boy, just like she had done only seconds ago – their shared immediate respite.

Her eyes shot up to his, disbelieving. "Because I look like her," she said, as though the logic was self-evident, the most obvious fact in the world – axiomatic. He'd just learned of Katherine's betrayal. Elena couldn't fathom that he'd want to spend even an instant with her doppelgänger, to be reminded of the pain.

"No," he smiled softly at her, tracing her cheekbones with his thumbs, a curiously familiar affection shining in his cerulean eyes. "She looks like you," he whispered before lowering his lips to hers. Katherine didn't come first for him – Elena did.

He met Elena first.

The notion still consumed him whole, burned him from the inside out, unable to think. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, smiling in satisfaction at her soft moan, her parted lips that allowed him to explore farther in.

For him, despite now having memories of far more, this was their first kiss. A curious part of him was genuinely amused at just how many 'first kisses' he had with Elena.

After a century and a half, she was finally here – in his arms – kissing him.

She was here. She loved him. No, she couldn't love him, his mind screamed – he was unlovable –

But no. The way she held him, the way she reassured him, the way she stroked his hair. That feeling of warmth, of home, of familiarity.

Of love.

It had always been her.

Suddenly, with the return of the full spectrum of his emotion, the wave of love he felt for her was blinding. He pulled her firmly against him, savoring the feel of her in his arms, the thrum of her heartbeat, the way her soft breasts pressed into his hard chest. He wanted her – he wanted all of her – more than he'd ever wanted anyone in his very long life. And yet he vividly recalled being with her, making love to her. No, but not yet – those were all memories of his future self.

He'd been waiting for this for over 150 years, since she first held him at the quarry, and told him that she loved him – since he experienced love for the very first time in his life and carried it in his heart forever.

Elena gasped at the hardness pressed into her stomach, a familiar heat pooling in the apex of her thighs as his needy hands roamed her body. He lifted her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around him, as her mind came back to her. This Damon was in love with Katherine. She looked exactly like Katherine. She couldn't, no – nonono. "Please don't," she breathed, suddenly stepping away, out of his embrace.

He froze in place. "Don't what?" he asked, alarmed by her sudden change in demeanor.

"Don't use me to forget," she said in a hushed tone, turning away from him. The notion was too painful – Damon imagining that she was Katherine. He had to be doing that now, right? This Damon had spent over a century waiting to rescue her, had nearly killed Bonnie only hours prior, trying to get to her. His heart had to have been full of her.

Damon looked shocked for a second, as though he was struck, then his expression settled into one of resentment. "I thought you said you knew I'd never hurt you," he replied coldly.

"You wouldn't," she insisted, confused by his return what she considered a closed matter.

The resentment dissipated as he sorted through the memories, finding himself as the source of her pain quite often, at least emotionally – especially in their early days. "There's more than one way to hurt someone, Elena," he said sadly. He'd find a way to make this right. "I'm so sorry about what I said right before the merge," he whispered. "I didn't mean a word of it, even then. I was just trying to call your bluff."

He'd never hurt her again – if only he could make himself remember, after she inevitably disappeared again.

"Damon –"

"No. Elena, listen to me," he said resolutely, taking her shoulders in his hands. He had to make her understand. "I know it's probably hard to believe me, given what happened earlier tonight, but you need to hear this and you need to understand. I love you – you. It'll always be you, and apparently, it's always been you. You're it for me. And I would never degrade you by thinking of a worthless bitch like Katherine when I'm with you – or even worse, pretending that you're her. You're everything to me. Got it?" his voice shook with conviction, still fueled by humanity that refilled each crevice of his psyche after being absent 50 years. It was almost unbearable, and yet something about it felt so perfect – so right.

She stared at him, struggling to string her stray thoughts together to revive the ability to speak. It seemed to have absconded, swept away by the might of his confession. "I…"

He softened instantly, his gaze adoring as he beheld her, gently stroking her cheek to liberate it from the stray hair that hid the whole of its adorned canvas from his view, tucking it behind her ear. "I've been waiting for you my whole life," he breathed, knowing with perfect clarity that he'd seldom said anything truer.

"I don't understand," Elena said, finally finding her voice.

He licked his lips, as his eyes flickered to her perfect pout for an instant, before returning to her gaze. This entire moment felt surreal as the realization clicked into place. He wanted to laugh at himself, to cry at the time wasted, to rejoice in finding her again. He didn't want to think about what would happen after she inevitably disappeared, along with the memory of this night – when his switch would dimmer off, and he'd be back to searching for Katherine, only to then realize his ardent love for Elena while he had to watch her with his brother as his humanity slowly crawled back to the surface. Instead, he took both of her hands in his and smiled at her, letting his thumbs caress her knuckles. "I don't think I ever fully forgot you, after that day we met. I think I must have dreamt of you – or something – because when I met Katherine, something about seeing her face. Your face," he emphasized, "made me fall for her instantly, because I was already in love with you. I just didn't consciously remember it."

"But how can that be?" Elena asked, unable to help the blinding smile that suddenly conquered her lips, bathed in unrestrained joy. Her eyes darted between his as her vision blurred with tears, moved by his confession. Without conscious thought or preparation, her body lifted itself on its tiptoes, and she pressed a kiss to his lips, gasping in laughter as she pulled away, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Caught in her contagious joy, he swept her up in his arms to kiss her again, this time with more force, more passion. He pulled away to press her forehead against his, his eyes still closed. "I think we changed the timeline," he murmured against her lips.

She breathed heavily against him, still whirling from their kiss. "Does that mean that we created some kind of causality paradox?"

He pulled away to look at her, frowning. "We had to have, right? You weren't born in the nineteenth century, so there's no way I could have initially met you first. That couldn't be the first timeline."

"So does this mean the spell allows paradoxes?" she asked in wonder. "Do you think we can stop the sleeping spell from taking place?"

"Maybe," he considered. "I guess it depends on what the spell's goal is. Remember what the Children of the Corn said?" Damon asked to Elena's halfheartedly admonishing look at the nickname, mostly present to hide her growing smile.

"They have names, you know," Elena chided, grinning despite her best efforts.

Damon just waved that useless bit of information off, not particularly caring what two of the most annoying witches he'd ever met – and that's quite the feat, considering the competition – were named. "They said that the Specter spell just knows what to erase keep its existence consistent – but also that Specters grow stronger with time. So, A, either we're beating the system. Or B, the original timeline would have led to you being put under the sleeping spell, being turned into a Specter, and visiting me regardless."

"What do you think the original timeline was like?" she asked cheekily, taking a moment to pepper him with kisses.

He grinned, spinning her in his arms as he considered. "Let's see. I probably immediately saw Katherine for the two-faced bitch she was, turned to have a life of adventure, met you, swept you off your feet right away," he counted on his fingers to her awaiting giggle, "and then made Kai jealous enough of my impeccable style, my scorching wit, my stunningly perfect girlfriend that he cast the sleeping spell on you just to not feel so inadequate," he shrugged. "Oh and Steffie got a bit too creepy-stalkerish with Bambi one Summer and was outed as vampire by PETA."

"You had to have come back to town to open the tomb, though, right? In order for us to meet?" she prompted.

"Maybe? Would that be one of the parameters? Or could we have met in another way. Either way, I probably would still be trapped in that flannel hellscape with Bon-Bon. Maybe you were there with us," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "We probably threw Kai weekly roasts because there's almost no other way to interact with that freakshow and confiscated his pork rinds and jam supply. Maybe you stole that bottle of fig preserves that he'd been lovingly fingering for over a week," he quipped as Elena made a face.

"If you came into town to release Katherine – if," she stressed, raising her hand playfully to silence him as he made to interrupt her assumption. "What do you think could have been one of the reasons? For some reason, I think that the timelines had to be similar enough for the spell to remain intact."

"Could be anything," he shrugged. "Maybe someone hired me. Katherine could have had some information I needed. Maybe she owed me money," he smirked. "But that's only if we're going with option B."

"We should consider both, just in case," she sighed, desperately hoping that option A was ultimately true. If they could find a way to avoid the sleeping spell in the first place, then they could just be together and have the life of which they'd dreamed, before Kai came along and took it away – at least for nearly a century, it would seem. A troubling feeling in the pit of her stomach told her not to get her hopes up however – that the spell appeared relentless in ensuring its own existence – and she desperately fought to squash it.

"Fine," he made a show of sighing melodramatically. "But we should probably move the party upstairs, in case baby bro returns from his woodland creature torture sesh early. Don't want to get interrupted," he winked, sweeping her off her feet to cradle her to his chest. "Close your eyes and hang on tight," he murmured into her ear, them blurred into his room before she properly realized what was happening.

A decidedly dizzy Elena found herself deposited on Damon's bed. She tried to get her bearings as she slowly watched him close the door before making his way to sit next to her. She let her palm rest over the familiar sheets, recalling all the blissful nights and days she'd spent on them, wrapped in Damon. Her body involuntarily shivered at the notion, a heavy exhale matching the rising goosebumps on her skin. Damon watched her with an expression akin to the Cheshire Cat, his pupils enlarged with desire. He noticed. Smug bastard.

Taking advantage of Elena's aroused state, he crawled over her like a languid cat, pressing slow, soft kisses into her neck between words, while his hands roamed her body. "You're right, Elena," he breathed, his voice sultry as a Summer day, "we should explore absolutely every avenue," he breathed, moving down her neck toward her breasts.

Elena gasped, thrusting her pelvis against his leg, desperately seeking friction. He only chuckled in response. His hand snaked its way up her thigh and into her dress, nimble fingers slipping inside her soaked panties to touch her where she needed him most.

"Damon," she gasped, grinding against him as he pushed one finger inside, her walls enveloping it in a vice grip. He hissed as he imagined that tight squeeze around his cock. He pushed another finger in and curled, then two. "Oh, God! Need you."

"Love you," he breathed in return.

"I love you, too, Damon," she told him seriously, breaking their haze for a brief moment to cup his face. The raw vulnerability in his eyes almost shook her, because it had been such a far cry from the Damon that greeted her downstairs when she first appeared. The combination of the memory merge and the entirety of his humanity returning at once made it impossible for him to hide from her, leaving her breathless. "I love you so much," she murmured, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips, that grew heated almost immediately.

She ripped his shirt open, like nearly every other time she'd visited him, prompting a look from him and an answering expression of defiance from her. "You should have taken it off the second you saw me if you didn't want it damaged."

"Someone's eager," he smirked.

She whimpered when he took his fingers out of her to hook them in her panties, slowly dragging them down her long legs, and finally tossing them aside. "Someone's projecting," she grunted, but then proved him right as her hands began making short work of his belt, unbuckling it and sliding his pants down with little regard for patience or finesse. "I've been stuck in a monotonous hellscape for I don't know how long, and I need you," she pouted in lieu of an explanation.

His hands darted for the zipper behind her dress. He needed to see her. Feel her. All of her.

She pushed his shirt down his shoulders once his pants were off, relieved when he helped by shrugging out of it. She had to stifle a gasp as she took him in. Although she'd seen Damon naked countless times at this point, the effect would never diminish with time or exposure.

He grinned wickedly. She immediately recognized the look, shooting him an annoyed glance. He clearly meant to tease her. "So, since you wanted to talk," he purred tracing kisses down her shoulder as he relieved it from her dress, following its path with his lips as he slid it down her body. "To explore," he punctuated, kissing he valley between her breasts. "Let's hear some theories."

"Damon!" she growled, scandalized when he sat up to look at her.

"You theorize, and I'll continue," he smirked. "Unless you can't focus with what I'm doing. Then I'll have to stop."

She narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "My focus is just fine."

"Perfect," he breathed, unhooking her bra and throwing it across the room. His pupils dilated with desire as he took her in. He loved her so much.

"I think the spell is giving us wiggle room to play," she began, struggling to keep her voice even as he resumed his ministrations. "We changed the timeline, but the broad strokes are intact," she gasped sharply as he took her breast into his mouth, his tongue sweeping over her nipple.

"Hmm?" he asked, that obnoxious ass, Elena half-heartedly seethed when she felt his hand on her other breast. She ground her pelvis against him again, but he only laughed in response, still rolling his tongue over her flesh.

"I don't think it even matters what happened in the other timeline," she continued as he trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses down her torso, purposely avoiding where she needed him most to focus on her thighs. Jackass. Her hands dug into the sheets. "I guess the question is –" she gasped, suddenly unable to focus as she felt his tongue please her there. "Is," she squeaked.

"What's the question, Elena?" asked obnoxiously, not bothering to lift his head when his tongue found her clit.

She swallowed thickly, her breathing becoming increasingly shallow. "What does the spell consider important? And how does it know?" Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he took her clitoris into his mouth, massaging it. "Christ," she breathed.

"I prefer Damon," he replied wryly, surfacing. "Sexier, and much less prone to self-flagellation. That's Steffie's forte," he explained ever-so-casually as his fingers found themselves inside her yet again.

"How do you think the spell knows?" she asked, panting.

"I don't know!" he scoffed, displeased at having the tables turned on him. Elena was supposed to be tormented with want so potent that she couldn't think straight. He clearly had to up his game. "Maybe it runs a simulation every time we make a change, and sees if the change is significant enough, and performs some kind of statistical analysis to gauge the probability."

"Wow," Elena said, her grin growing to astronomical proportions. "This is going to be the first thing I tell everyone when I wake up. No one's going to believe me," she laughed. Actually laughed. Damon narrowed his eyes, and hooked his fingers inside her, while his thumb found her clit, satisfaction creeping into his face as she began writhing.

"Nope!" he intoned casually with that wry musicality that she'd come to love about him. "That's why I'm not worried. Go ahead. Tell everyone."

"I will," she sassed, then somehow managed to frown through her panting as she considered. "And you made fun of Stefan for things like going back to school and wanting to be doctor when you say things like that?"

"That's not why I made fun of him," Damon explained, the earliest traces of a cocky smirk – for an entirely different reason than before – languishing on his face.

Elena only raised her eyebrows, prompting him to continue, while trying and mostly failing to maintain an expression more interested in his words than the work of his hands.

"Baby bro only pretends that being a big bad vampire stopped his medical aspirations, morphing into mega-Eeyore every time he tells the story for dramatic effect," he smirked. "The real reason is Stefan's never met a fraction that didn't make him immediately erupt in tears – probably when he first learned to get all broody. Once he realized there was actual science involved, that door closed faster than Paul Mitchell trying to sell him discounted hair gel."

"I always did think it was weird that he couldn't just study dermatology or something – not all doctors deal with open wounds. It's not like he had to be surgeon or anything," she posited, unable to keep amusement out of her voice. "If he could play a contact sport like football, he could be around patients. Just wear a facial prosthetic to appear older."

"Yeah, Steffie and science don't mix. This one time, he didn't realize an eclipse –" he began, before abruptly halting himself. Nope, not going to go there. He didn't need that kind of mood-killer, not now or ever. Instead, he doubled his focus on turning Elena into a pleasured puddle.

"Do you think each choice matters?" Elena whimpered, as his fingers apparently a particularly sensitive spot. "Is it weighed equally? It couldn't, could it? I mean, leaving ourselves notes about the future, or trying to save Enzo is a huge deal, but whether or not we finish all the ice-cream probably isn't, right?"

"If I had to guess? I think it works almost like an if-else statement. If the change is subtle enough to preserve whatever aspect of the sequence of events the spell deems important, then it's kept; else, it's deleted," he shrugged, himself getting a bit pensive about the mechanics of the spell.

A wicked grin sauntered up Elena's face. "Did you seriously just make an if-else statement reference?" she teased. "Stefan! Come back!" she yelled toward the window, her grin ever-widening. "Turns out your brother's a massive nerd!"

That did it. Enough was enough. Not wasting another second, Damon took her clit in his mouth again, while his other hand massaged her breast. Elena continued writhing under his ministrations for a few minutes, until a wave of pleasure hit its crescendo and she came with his name on her lips.

He slowly kissed his way up her body, finally claiming her lips with a kiss considerably softer than those they'd just exchanged. It conveyed all the love and longing he felt for her. She sighed into it, tasting herself on his tongue, letting the afterglow fill her completely before her hand wrapped itself around his cock. He gasped into her mouth, as she began slowly stroking him.

"There's something else I have to tell you," she said gingerly, almost like a confession. He could tell she was nervous.

"What is it?" he asked reassuringly.

"I'm not a vampire anymore –"

"I can see that," he replied wryly, doing his best to keep his voice even.

She smiled, giving him a small peck on his lips, never ceasing her stroking. "Bonnie brought back the Cure from the prison world. You wanted us to take it together, because it's what I wanted – and," she bit her lip, terrified.

He took both of her hands in his, stopping her. He could tell this was a conversation that they needed to have without distractions. Whatever had her so distressed needed his full attention.

"Elena," he whispered softly, tucking her hair behind her ear before stroking it. "You can tell me. It's okay."

"I took it. You were going to, too – but – but you don't have to, Damon," she whimpered. "I think maybe you just got caught up in the moment. I just – I just want you to know you're not obligated to follow through if you don't want to anymore," she said, only partly succeeding in keeping her voice from shaking. He could see the tears beginning to form by the peculiar shine of her eyes.

"Hey," he soothed, brushing her hair behind her ear. In truth, the news certainly surprised him. He just assumed this humanesque form of Elena that he'd been encountering was a manifestation of the spell, and that she was asleep still in vampiric form. So Bonnie must have found the atlas. He always knew that he wanted this for her - because all he'd ever truly wanted was for her to be happy - but to hear that they'd planned to spend their lives together this way was unexpected. And yet, everything about it felt right. As long as they were together, wasn't that all that mattered? "Who said I didn't want to anymore?"

"Because" – she began.

"Elena, you gave up the Cure once so we could be together. Why can't I do the same for you? If being with me is more important to you than being human, why can't it be more important to me than being a vampire?" he asked softly, still stroking her hair. "All that matters is that we're together. What species we are is secondary. Okay?"

She felt the last remnants of control over her emotions release as she rushed into his arms, soothed by his embrace.

"Okay, Elena?" he repeated, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head.

She nodded into his chest, letting herself be comforted, releasing the last shred of doubt she held onto on the matter, releasing its poisonous grip from within her, finally feeling lighter than she had in ages.

They laid wrapped in each other's arms for what must have been close to a quarter hour, though it hardly felt like a second before Damon heard the front door slam. "Uh-oh," he playfully whispered into Elena's ear, tightening his hold on her. "Saint Stefan just came home. Keep your ears peeled for a sermon on the perils of forehead relaxation."

"Really?" she grinned wickedly, wriggling out of his grasp to begin a trail of kisses down his torso. She stopped at his pelvis to look up at him, her gaze positively impish. "We're going to play a little game. It's called How Quiet Can You Be?" she teased, before taking him into her mouth.

He gasped immediately, gripping the sheets in a death hold. Over the Summer after Elena's graduation, when they officially got together, they'd spend hours each day getting to know each other's bodies. It was then that he learned how to make Elena orgasm in minutes, sometimes even less – what each breath, each sigh, each moan, each whimper meant. It was also then that she learned how to please him, and she was clearly making use of that knowledge as her tongue slid up the underside of his cock to flatten at the head as she increased her suction.

"Fuck! Elena…" he whispered hoarsely, but it was enough to alert the other member of the supernatural in the house, who immediately bolted through the door, his eyes filled with rage.

"Where is she?" Stefan roared, only finding his brother on his bed, completely nude, with absolutely no hint of Elena anywhere.

"Where's who, Steffie?" Damon tried very hard to sound casual in the wake of Elena's snickering and her absolute refusal to cease her ministrations. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, or I'm going to assume you're just being creepy again. Taking naked pics of me isn't going to win you any favors when Captain Planet comes to town to get revenge on you for defiling his precious ozone layer with your hair gel obsession and eating all his furry friends," he barely choked out the last word, desperately trying to appear nonchalant as Elena swirled his head in a particularly devastating fashion at the last word, just like he taught her. Saucy minx. He was so proud of her for this diabolical move. And frustrated.

Damon could practically hear Stefan's teeth grind against each other. "If you're fantasizing about her, I just want to make one thing clear – that's all it'll ever be. She'll never even look in your direction. You're a cancer that just ruins everyone's lives, and the sooner you leave, the better. I know it, you know it, and believe me – she knows it. So, keep dreaming if you want, but stay the hell away from Elena," Stefan bit out before leaving the room.

Elena looked up to see the crestfallen look on Damon's face, his mask of carefree indifference dropping as soon as his brother left. "I love you," she said softly, taking a moment to cease her ministrations to press a soft kiss to his lips. "And I'll always love you," she said, pressing another kiss to his cheek, his jaw, finally his lips. "And he doesn't really think so, either, okay, Damon?" she soothed, weaving her hand through his hair.

"I love you, too," he smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. She frowned but allowed him to kiss her. Predictably, it grew passionate yet again. With a distinct smugness, Elena took delight in the whimper Damon released as their lips separated, and Elena kissed her way down his chest and stomach, to take him in her mouth again, this time unceasing until she helped him ride out his orgasm.

They found themselves wrapped in each other for the next several minutes, exchanging slow, languid kisses, as Damon's vampire constitution worked to rebuild itself to continue one of their favorite activities.

"We'll stop the spell," Damon purred between kisses, palming her breast sensually as he felt himself begin to grow hard again. "And spend the rest of our lives doing this all day, every day."

Elena laughed before it turned into a sharp gasp when she felt his other hand probing her increasingly slick opening.

"But don't we run the risk of destroying something – of hurting something in time and space if we create that kind of causality paradox?" Elena asked in worry.

"Don't care," he growled, flipping them over so that he hovered over her. "I'm not letting you suffer under that spell for a moment longer. Fuck the whole –"

"I'd hardly call this suffering," she murmured, letting her fingers comb his raven tresses.

He responded by slipping a finger inside her, delighted to find her wet. "Already?" he asked smugly. She whimpered involuntarily at the contact, her pupils expanding with desire. "I need to be inside you," he breathed, positioning himself at her entrance just as body began to grow transparent, slipping through her. "No," he gasped, suddenly overcome with the same aching loss he felt every time the Specter began to disappear – and though the feeling was by this point entirely expected and familiar, it was nevertheless so sharp that he'd never get used to its agony. "Not yet!"

"Damon," she soothed, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He felt the barest traces of it, soft, like the wind. It was excruciating. "Things will get better soon."

"Oh, you mean when my brain tricks me into believing that I'm in love with that two-faced bitch? Or when I have to watch you love my brother?" he scoffed. "At least there's the bonus of my humanity flipping off again for a little while."

She smiled, though there was profound heartbreak in it – this moment was always unbearable for her, as well. "I loved him, in a way, sure – but not like this. I didn't know what love really was until I finally let myself accept that I fell for you. This is real." She vividly recalled telling Stefan that she didn't understand love truly when they were together - unsure of her future, or if she even wanted one with him, on what she believed was her last day as a human. And what an understatement that had been. When she finally allowed herself to accept the tidal wave - overpowering and invigorating and lifechanging - that was her love for Damon, she was at once terrified and delighted to learn what love truly was. It consumed her.

"It's the most real thing I ever felt in my whole life. I love you, Damon."

"I know you can't control when you appear, so I'll try – I'll try so hard to be desperate to see you on that night. And then we'll stop the spell, and we'll save you," he promised.

She looked at him dubiously, but forced herself to smile, nevertheless. "I'll see you soon," she whispered, and in the next moment, she was gone.

Damon frowned, bewildered to find himself in his bed. Just how much did he have to drink? Sleeping naked wasn't unusual for him, so he just shrugged, rolled over, and went to sleep. He'd look into visiting Bree in the morning.

Elena bolted upright in her bed, panic seizing her. What a terrible dream! After watching Stefan's brother rip into Bonnie's neck, she fully anticipated vampire-themed nightmares, but not this – not some vast, open field seemingly extending forever, with a penetrating feeling of abject despair.

As her heartbeat regulated, she was shocked to find Stefan in her room. "What are you doing here?" she asked, not entirely comfortable with the intrusion.

"I had to make sure you're okay," he replied solemnly, in that way of his.

She nodded, supposing that it was sweet, though she couldn't shake the oddest feeling that something about this felt off. It was just an odd day, in general, she surmised. "I'm fine," she bit out, desperately hoping she didn't sound as defensive as she felt. Something about her dream felt like profoundly more than a dream, and the notion of it was terrifying. It felt so alarmingly real.

And here we are! This also turned out to be considerably longer than expected. Sooo, I don't know if anyone knows, but this is my actual first time writing smutty sexy times. I've never done it before, so please be kind! :D I also don't really read romance novels, so this is very far outside of my comfort zone, but I'm all about self-development and venturing outside what feels familiar as a writer, so I had to try it! (But, you know, also, Damon is Damon, and he can't resist being a quippy douche even then.)

My headcanon is that Stefan is science-inept because of his S1 comet speech and that time he locked Damon in an easily escapable shack during an eclipse in S6. It's okay. Science isn't for everyone. He's obviously good at history, though, right? And history is super-important, too. Everyone has different skills, and that's totally lovely. Look at how he schooled Tanner. :D (With that said, Stefan actually retreating from medicine because fractions are hard just tickles me way too much to not insert into the story.)

His mean speech to Damon was inspired by a very similar one in 1994 (and his S1 attitude toward him, in general). Personally, I think he didn't mean it. Both brothers lash out in their own ways, which makes the dynamic between them complex and fascinating. With that said, he's shown a tendency to say deeply cutting, hurtful things in canon. (But he gets better.)

Here's hoping this explanation is sufficient to explain how the timeline was altered! But in case it isn't, here's another one. The timeline that we see here (and therefore in canon) is not the original timeline. Meeting Specter Elena is precisely what made Damon fall in love with Katherine so quickly. They theorized that the original timeline must have been similar enough in certain respects, because Damon and Elena still fell in love; both the sleeping and Specter spells were still placed on her, and she still visited him, but ultimately it doesn't matter what happened, because that timeline doesn't exist anymore. So, this raises an interesting question for them: if the spell allowed this small causality paradox to go through (since it didn't interfere with the creation of the Specter spell, creating its own causality paradox), would it allow a gigantic one, like stopping the sleeping spell (and therefore the Specter spell that follows it)? We'll find out in the next chapter.

I'm kind of, sort of, maybe considering a little one-shot exploring what the original timeline was. If I think of a story that excites me (and hopefully y'all) enough. :D

Enormous thanks to Oislet and JonesSwan for being the best betas ever for this chapter! You both rock so much. I couldn't have done it without your support and invaluable feedback, and I'm so very appreciative.

I'm kind of obsessing with Avatar: the Last Airbender again. :D Watching the first episode of the Netflix series made me want to rewatch the animated one (and I'm not normally much of a re-watcher), and aaah! It's almost a perfect show. Almost. I love it so much. Even though it's for kids, it manages to be wonderfully complex and trust its audience's intelligence more than a lot of adult-targeted series (including TVD, sadly - though it's still more complex than a lot of interpretations I've seen). The characters are utterly delightful - just wholeheartedly likable and multifaceted, beautifully flawed, with wonderful growth arcs. Aaah, I love me some ATLA. Any fans here?

Thanks for being delightful, everyone. :D Much love, all! :)