Ok, so this is my first Vampire Diaries fanfic, my second fanfiction EVER! Basically I've only seen up to episode thirteen, so I don't know much about what's going to happen. So, I'm going to make this story up as I go along. Just so you know, it's going to be Damon and Elena, Bonnie and Stefan. Damon fans, this is the story for YOU!!!

As always, I can't promise that I'll continue this story. We writers know better than anyone that inspiration can leave as fast as it comes. But I hope to continue with this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries. If I did, Damon would be shirtless almost EVERY scene. I know, we can dream...

Enjoy!

Chapter One

In the bedroom

It was the car alarm that woke her. She opened her eyes and slightly turned her head towards the green digits of the alarm clock. 02:34a.m. Oh God, it's not even three! Elena curled into a ball and settled her head back onto the pillow, trying to drift back to sleep.

Yet something was amiss. If you asked her, Elena wouldn't be able to tell you why the air felt like she humming, why the hair was standing up on her arms. And the damn car alarm would just not stop!

With a frustrated groan she sat up. Her eyes widened when she spotted a silhouetted figure by the window. Her breath caught in her throat, though she couldn't bring herself to dash down the stairs. Was it Stefan? Though it was so unlike Stefan, to come in the middle of the night without calling her. As she pondered this, she realised that the figure by the window was the worst person in the world; no, the universe; the person that made her skin crawl and want to repeatedly bang her head against a brick wall; a person that possibly could not even be considered a person.

Damon.

"D-" Before she could continue his hand was on her mouth. She immediately began to struggle, knowing what Damon would be able to do if she couldn't scream for help; knowing what he could do even if she could scream.

Still fighting, she was conscious of his nimble fingers placed on her chin. Reluctantly her gaze lifted to his face. His face... Even Elena couldn't deny that Damon was hot: with his silver-blue eyes, pale face, and that mischievous smirk, he wasn't bad to look at. His black hair brought out his winter features, as did his gorgeous leather jacket.

Stefan.

She forced herself not to think about Damon's stunning features. Instead she watched as his finger lifted up to his mouth, indicating that she needed to be quiet.

Her dark eyes stared questioning at him, not understanding. Seeing this, he smirked, which just made Elena want to punch him in the face. Gently he led her to the window, his hand still over her mouth. She was very close to biting it, but knowing Damon, he would bite back.

Standing by the light of the window, he nodded down at the street. Her eyes stared down at the road in front of the house. It seemed just as normal as ever – well, as normal as Mystic Falls could be: the old Civil War built houses still stood tall and proud; the trees with quiet dignity; no one walked the streets at this time in the morning.

Yet Elena saw it with her very own eyes: a blurred figure dashed past her car.

She froze. Damon moved his hand away from her mouth, knowing she wouldn't speak. She turned to look at him, confused. Who is it? she wanted to ask. But Damon wanted her quiet for a reason, so she pressed her lips together.

"Stay here," he said quietly, causing her to jump.

"Who are they?" she whispered. She looked back to the street, but she couldn't see anyone. Then again, she knew better than anyone that just because you couldn't see anything, didn't mean it wasn't there.

Damon sighed. "I don't know."

"Maybe they're just passing through," she suggested.

Damon laughed. "Yeah, because vampires just happen to go hunting in the exact area where Elena Gilbert lives." He turned to her, smiling just a bit. "That's one hell of a coincidence."

I can see his point. This is me, after all. Ever since her parents died, Elena seemed to be surrounded by trouble. She had a vampire boyfriend who had his vampire brother, and a witch for a best friend. Yet she was just a human. Why did she attract such danger?

Immediately she felt Damon tense. Everything seemed to happen within a second: a face appeared by the window; Elena felt force in her chest that made her feel as if her heart was going to implode; she fell backwards to the wooden floor, landing on her wrist. She was sure something cracked. But she didn't focus on the pain; instead she was staring at the vampire by the window.

His eyes were red, veins appearing round them. His fangs were out. He smirked as Elena recoiled from the face. Damon, on the other hand, was indifferent.

"You enjoy scaring the life out of girls?" Damon asked. "Not that it's a bad thing, I was just wondering."

"She looks like Katherine," the vampire hissed.

Damon and Elena froze. They all knew that name all too well. "You know Katherine?" Damon asked. His voice was quiet, not angry like Elena had expected.

The vampire smirked. "I know Katherine. I know you, Damon Salvatore." He turned his eyes on Elena. "And I know Elena Gilbert."

"And what do you want with Elena?" Damon asked, his voice harsh and demanding.

"We want the tomb open," the vampire replied. He seemed to want to go into more detail, but Damon interrupted.

"We?"

"Yes," the vampire smirked. "We want Katherine and the others back. For that, we need the Gilbert journal."

Elena could feel Damon's confusion, mixed with her. The Gilbert journal? What did that have to do with anything?

Damon asked as much.

The vampire smirked. "Don't you know?"

Damon gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to attack this teenager. "If I did, would I ask?"

He laughed. "Well, I'm not going to spoil the surprise. You'll have to figure it out. Though I doubt you will." He sent Damon a patronising look. "You are the Salvatore boy who fell head over heels for Katherine while she played you against your brother."

A millisecond later both Damon and the boy were gone. Elena gasped and slid further on the away from the window. Her wrist was still a little sore from being thrown back to the door and her heart was beating out of her rib cage. She thanked God that Jenna was on a date with Alaric (which meant if Elena got up early enough she would see Jenna do the walk of shame) and that Jeremy was visiting some cousins.

She almost had a heart attack when she saw another vampire leap up at the window. She tried to struggle upwards, but her legs slipped from underneath her. Then, to her relief, she remembered that a vampire couldn't enter unless the human invited them in.

And Elena had no intention of doing that.

The girl vampire smiled. She looked no older than Jeremy did. This girl can only be about fifteen or sixteen.

"A Gilbert," she snarled. "I see your family was able to live on."

Elena frowned. This girl sounded as if she really hated her, but why would she? Elena didn't remember ever meeting her.

"Where's the journal?" the girl snapped.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Jonathan Gilbert's journal! That son of a bitch's journal! Where is it?" Her fangs were hanging out of her mouth menacingly. Elena's instincts were screaming at her to run away, but logic firmly told her that the girl couldn't get inside. If she had been invited in by Jenna or Jeremy, her hand would be round Elena's throat by now.

"I have no idea!" Elena could feel herself beginning to get angry. "Why does it matter so much? Why do you want Katherine so badly?"

The girl laughed. It reminded her of Damon's, only for some reason she didn't feel nearly as intimidated by Damon's laugh as she did by this girl's. "I don't want Katherine."

"You don't?"

"Katherine was a bitch, no two ways about it. I couldn't care less about her. But I want-" Elena didn't find out what this girl wanted, because she suddenly disappeared. She heard the hisses and snarls of vampires fighting.

She continued to stay on the floor, too stunned to move. Eventually she could no longer hear the vampires anymore. Unfortunately, Elena didn't hear Damon.

Despite herself, she was beginning to get worried. What if the vampires were too much for Damon? Yes, Damon was stronger than Stefan, but she had a feeling these vampires drank human blood too.

What if he's injured? Elena thought. She felt a shiver run down her spine. What if he's dead?

Do NOT think about that.

Nervously, Elena got to her feet. Just don't go out to the window, she told herself firmly. Don't leave the house and they can't get you.

Nearing the window, she took a deep bracing breath. Impulsively she grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of the room (once upon a time she had been a person who did everything, including being on the baseball team) just in case, though any vampire who got hurt by a baseball bat had to be the weakest vampire in the world.

Holding the bat in one hand, she gripped the ledge of the window tightly. Cautiously, Elena Gilbert peered down.

A blur came flying up at her, so fast that she felt her hair flutter in front of her. Giving a scream, she fell back on the floor. Pain soared up her spine once again, causing her to wince. Looking up, she felt her heart leap involuntarily as Damon beamed at her.

"Can't keep on your feet when you're around me? I know, most girls have that problem."

"Damon! For God's sake, are you trying to give me a heart attack!"

"Nah, those are just my irresistible good looks." He hopped into the bedroom, Elena still on the floor.

"Who were they, Damon?" Elena questioned, a little irritated. "What did they want? Why do they want some Jonathan Gilbert's journal?"

Damon sat down next to her. They were now both staring out the window, as if they were on a date, gazing at the starlit sky. If it hadn't been Damon, it could have almost been romantic.

"I don't know who the guy was," he admitted. "But the girl was Annabel. Her mother was Pearl, she use to be a good friend of Katherine's." He sighed. "I didn't know she was a vampire. I guess she must have been turned when Pearl and Katherine were taken, or sometime before that."

Elena frowned, her eyebrows knitted together. "So you know her?"

"Not really. We didn't speak much."

"She didn't seem to like me," she observed.

"Well, she wouldn't. Jonathan Gilbert was the one who revealed Annabel's mother to be a vampire." Damon smirked. "So I wouldn't go partying with her anytime soon. She might bite you in the back."

Her heart leapt in her throat. "Oh my God, Jeremy!"

"Oh relax beauty queen, he'll be fine. Vampires have to be invited in, remember?"

Her shoulders relaxed. "So, why-"

"Hang on," Damon interrupted. He reached over, his hand taking her wrist. Elena winced as he slowly lifted it up to examine it. "First we need to take a look at this."

Elena was sure this was all a dream. It had to be. Okay, so the killer vampires that were looking for her ancestor's journal were real, yes, she could believe that. But what she could not believe, what made her sure this was her imagination, was the way Damon was behaving.

He had placed her on a stool near the island and was now making her hot chocolate. Damon, making her hot chocolate? She would have bet the gates of hell would open before this.

He placed a steaming mug in front of her, keeping one for himself. "Drink it," he commanded.

"Why, decided my blood'll taste sweeter with a bit of sugar in it?" she asked sarcastically.

"You wound me, Elena. As if I would do such a thing." He smirked. "Your blood tastes sweet enough on its own." He watched her as she ran her hands round the warm mug. "Seriously, drink it. It'll calm you down."

"I'm fine."

"Your heart says otherwise. Then again, being around me makes every girl's heart beat a little faster." He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever Damon. Can you just explain? Why do they want Jonathan Gilbert's journal?"

He sighed, irritated. He didn't like it when he didn't know everything. Okay, he was a smart ass, but at least a smart ass knew all the answers. "I don't know. But I'm thinking that there's something in that journal that helps them open the tomb. We're missing something here." His blue eyes met Elena's. He admired her colouring: both her eyes and hair were coffee coloured, such a strong definite colour. It was so straight too, whereas Katherine's was naturally curly. They're so different: as if Katherine's the moon and Elena's the sun.

"I'll tell you one thing," he said, breaking his thoughts. "We need to get that journal before they do."

"And where is this journal?" asked Elena.

"That's what I would like to know." He stared at her, as if he could peer into her mind. She found herself feeling intimidated, though not scared. Elena Gilbert had long since stopped being afraid of Damon Salvatore.

At least, that's what she told herself.

"We should search through my boxes in the attic. Though there's heaps of it." She sighed. "It could take us all night to get through them. Longer even."

Damon grinned. "Sounds dull, those we could make it more interesting." He grinned cheekily, like a child. "Every box we go through, one of us takes an item of clothing off."

Elena threw her coaster at him. Damon caught in with one hand, without breaking a sweat. "Nice aim," he offered.

"Didn't hit," Elena muttered resentfully.

Damon laughed, though it died on his face quicker than she expected. Trying to keep his voice light, he asked, "Anything hurting?"

She shook her head. Damon glanced down and, sure enough, she was wearing the necklace. Damn it. "Elena," Damon said, quieter this time. "Is anything hurting?"

She bit her lip. "My neck and back. And my wrist, when you threw me back on the floor."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your life-long dream to be killed by a vampire."

"He couldn't get to me. There was no reason for you to shove me to the ground."

I was just trying to protect you. Damon wished he could say those words to Elena, but he didn't. Instead, he held his hand out across the table. "Let me see it," he commanded quietly.

"Damon, I'm sure it's fine," she said, her tone as light as his had been. "Just sore."

Once again he disappeared before her eyes, only to reappear on the stool next to her. Before she could protest he lifted her wrist up again. Gently he ran his hand over her wrist. While he touch was light, Elena's wrist did not ache. But when he pressed down, she pulled her hand away from him with a whimper of pain.

"I don't think it's broken," he informed her. "Just bruised."

"It hurts," Elena admitted reluctantly. When she looked back up, she saw Damon had gone. "Damon?" she called. She didn't hear him in the house, so assumed he had left. I will never understand Damon.

Taking his advice, she drank her hot chocolate now that it had cooled. A warm, comfortable feeling entered her stomach, making her feel sleepy again. It was only just three in the morning.

Debating on whether to go back to bed and try to get to sleep, she felt a breeze against her skin. She jumped when Damon was back on the seat opposite her. "Damon, I swear, it's like you want me to die from shock."

He ignored her, focussing on her wrist. That was when she noticed that he was holding one of those thick bandages. Taking her wrist again, he gently moved the bandage up, fitting it over her wrist. "Keep this on for a few days. It won't hurt much while it heals."

Elena stared at Damon. First the hot chocolate, now the bandage? Who is he, and what has he done with Damon? "Thanks," she said, still a little stunned.

He met her gaze. Lifting her hand, he brought his face down and pressed his lips against her skin. She felt her skin tingle, her breath lodging in her throat.

Damon lifted his head up, smiling. His eyes, for once in his life, seemed warm. "There," he whispered, stroking her hand. "All better."

Snap out of it! Elena tilted her head to the side, her dark eyes calculating. "Why were you in my room, Damon?" she questioned. "Why were you here?"

Damon looked at her intently. He opened his mouth, preparing to answer her. But Elena didn't find out what he was going to say, because at that moment they were interrupted.