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A Damon/Elena fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Vampire Diaries. I'm not that awesome.

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A/N: Well, after the last episode, I couldn't help but write my own alternate version of what could have happened after Elena found out the "whole story".

In this story, Elena never went into the basement to talk to Stefan. She did as Damon asked and stayed upstairs.

Well, let's get on with it, shall we?

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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Damon stalked into the living room, spying Elena writing in a notebook. "Uh, god, you're still here?" he joked.

"Were you expecting anything else?" she countered, tipping her head at him.

"Nope." Damon lifted her feet up - more tenderly than he cared to admit - and sat on the sofa, placing her feet back overtop of his lap. He grinned internally when she neither protested, nor even flinched at the new position. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked having her around ... he especially liked that she was up here with him, while Stefan was alone downstairs, sulking in self-pity.

"So, how was the errand?" Elena asked him, that knowing tone in her voice.

"Futile," he answered honestly, his hand moving on her booted feet. "Although, I think I witnessed the teacher having an existential crisis."

Elena looked mildly interested at that.

"Stefan eaten yet?"

Elena smiled at him. "I thought you didn't care."

"Chalk it up to morbid curiosity," Damon excused, grinning in that wicked way of his.

"I think he's getting there, but he's got a lot of guilt to deal with," Elena admitted. "It doesn't help that you spent the last hundred and forty-five years punishing him for Katherine getting caught."

"This is my fault now?" Damon asked incredulously.

"No, it's no one's fault, Damon. I'm just saying, you're not exactly innocent." Even as Elena said the words, knowing them to be completely true, she felt bad for thinking them, let alone letting them pass her lips. Damon had been great since Stefan had gone off the deep end, she didn't want to say something to screw with the rhythm they had going. But, she pressed on, wanting Stefan to have a voice even if he wouldn't do it for himself. "You've made it your life's mission to make him miserable."

Damon stared at her in exasperation and confusion, standing up from the couch. "Let me ask you a question: in all this important soul-searching and cleansing of the demons of Stefan's past, did you ever manage to get the rest of the story?"

Elena shook her head, replying, "He said there was more."

"Yeah," Damon spoke heatedly. "That's an understatement." He walked away before he got pissed enough to do something he would regret.

Elena, however, didn't take the hint, and followed him. "Damon," she called out, coming up behind him. "Damon!" She grabbed his arm, making him turn around slowly. "Tell me." I need to know. I need to know everything.

And he did tell her everything. He told her what Stefan had done to their father, about the "gift" he'd brought for his older brother. He told her how he wanted to die so badly, but Stefan wouldn't let him. And how just as Stefan hadn't been able to resist their father's blood, he hadn't been able to resist the girl's. He'd become a vampire that night, even though he'd wanted to die and stay dead.

"From the moment Stefan had his first taste of human blood, he was a different person," Damon told her, feeling the alcohol he'd drunk coursing through his body. "I suppose I should thank him. It's been a hell of a ride," Damon joked, trying to hide his bitterness and disdain.

Elena stepped forward, sadness in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Damon."

Damon shook his head, pouring another drink. "I don't want your pity, Elena."

She continued moving towards him, not stopping until she was directly in front of him, taking his glass from his hand with ease while he stared up at her. "This isn't pity, Damon. It's clarity. All this time, I thought you and Katherine had destroyed Stefan's life ... I was so wrong. I'm sorry, Damon, for the way I've treated you because of what I thought. Things would have been so different ..."

Damon stared at her from his perch. "Explain."

Elena thought over the last week that she'd spent at the boarding house, about how disappointed she'd been in Stefan, but how'd she'd had to be there for him so that he would come through it all. She thought about how accommodating Damon had been, of the night when she'd been so exhausted with everything that he'd let her fall asleep against his shoulder by the fire, and hadn't even gloated about it the next day. She thought of the time when she'd basically opened herself up for Damon to compel her, but he'd placed the necklace back around her neck, telling her he'd wanted it to be real.

She thought back all the way to the first time she'd met Damon, and how attracted she'd been to him then. If she hadn't been there to see Stefan, she didn't know what would have happened. What she would have wanted to happen ...

Damon was waiting for her to respond, so she did so in the best way she knew to get through to him. She leaned towards him, blinking her eyes closed a half-second before her lips touched his.

He let her kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away. He sighed, looking away for a moment. "Elena ... I'm not the nice guy, here. I'm not the hold the door open, pull your chair out, wait on you hand-and-foot kind of Nancy-boy," he told her, glancing down at the floor, not being at all discrete about who he was alluding to. "I'm not -"

Elena silenced him with another kiss, more forceful this time. She slid her tongue against his top lip, pulling away just when he started to open his mouth. "I'm not asking you to be anyone you're not, Damon. I wouldn't want you to. It's you that I like ... that I want. And I think there's a lot we both want to forget ... so let's forget together."

Damon gazed at her with steady eyes, hearing her heart beating from where it resided within her, inches away from his own. He glanced down her neck, to the vervain necklace that rested against her chest. With a tilt of his head he looked back into her eyes, knowing he couldn't compel her with it on, and feeling a fire stir within him at that thought. "Kiss me like you mean it, Elena," he taunted her, wondering if she would back away at his tone.

But she didn't. She smirked in a way that made him a little proud and gripped his clothes, pulling him towards her while she crashed their lips together, pulling him towards the couch.

Damon pressed her backwards when her knees hit the back of the sofa, laying her back so that they covered the length of the couch, knocking the notebook she'd left there off the couch in their haste.

The moping vampire in the basement was forgotten as clothing began to disappear, and Elena managed to turn them so she was on top of Damon, her in her bra and underwear, he in only his jeans. Elena's hair hung down around her like a curtain and Damon reached one hand up to pull half of it over the other shoulder, wanting to see her face. Her face, just Elena's.

Elena descended upon him, catching his lips as her fingers went to work on his jeans.

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The end.

Well, what did you guys think?

I'm planning on doing another fic branching off of this one, about the night I referred to when Elena and Damon fell asleep in front of the fire, and he just watches her sleep.

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!