Pain... so much pain. It's radiating all through out her body, but the brunt of it is felt in her head.

She forces her eyes open, despite her instincts telling her no, and a second later she wishes she'd listened because a blinding light fills her vision.

"Rise and shine sleepy head."

"Mrrugh" Elena squeezes her eyes shut and turns to bury her face back into the pillow. She can hear him smirking, even before he says, "It's a BEAUTIFUL day outside." His voice is way too pleasant and way too loud.

"Damon," she pleads. She feels the bed dip, and her stomach gives an unpleasant roll. She tries to lay absolutely still under the thin sheets. Being incapacitated by her own doing in front of Damon is bad, being in a pool of her own vomit would be worse.

"As much as I love having a drunk woman in my bed, you are a hungover woman. Not as nice. Up."

She doesn't move.

There's a sigh before he yanks the sheets down and a rush of goosebumps covers her exposed skin. She continues to lie still, but when he doesn't move either there is a sudden odd tension in the air. Confused, Elena braces herself to face the sunlight and lifts her head from out of the squishy pillow. She squints at him over her shoulder. Her bare shoulder. She whips her head back around (too quickly and she swallows hard again) and looks down at herself.

Elena struggles to sit up and press the pillow to her bare chest simultaneously. "Where are my clothes?"

Damon blinks and a leer spreads across his lips. "Well, the scrap of fabric you call shorts are where they're supposed to be. The shirt, no idea, the bra, I don't even care. Not that it matters; I happen to think you look ravishing without them."

"Shut up." She groans and clutches the pillow firmly to her chest. Trying to ignore the pain in her head, neck, and shoulders, she squints around the room. One of her heels is by the door, but that's all she can see of her clothing. "What happened last night?"

"You mean before or after you tried to drag me to Excalibur?"

Elena wrinkles her nose. "In Old Town?" Damon nods once. "Ugh, sorry." She runs a hand through her hair and rubs the side of her face. "Wait, tried to?" She squeezes her eyes shut again, trying to remember. "Where did we end up?"

"Ah, we get to the good part." He smirks. "Vision."

Elena lights up at the mention of this. "Really?" But her faces falls a second later. She's been wanting to get into Vision for the longest time (the line is always wrapped around the block, and she refuses to let Caroline do her 'thing' on the bouncer) but now she finally has and she can't really remember it. She sighs. "Well, did I have fun?"

"A blast." Damon's eyes are all over her again, taking in her mused hair and the exposed strip of stomach the pillow can't hide. How he can look beyond her most likely smudged makeup, and somewhat pained expression is beyond her; also beyond her comprehension is how he can manage to actually make her feel kind of sexy right now. "You persuaded me to Compel the bartender."

The feeling of being sexy drains from her body at the mention of this. "I didn't," she denies it right away. Elena can't imagine asking Damon to do that. She still doesn't believe in that sort of thing, making people do what you want without their consent, using them as puppets.

Damon's lip quirks. "You did. I swear, you're like a sponge. Anyway we did what we do; talked, danced, repressed sexual urges. I decided it was time to go when you climbed on top of the bar to give a little show." He raises and lifts his eyebrows quickly, implying something inappropriate.

Elena can feel her eyes bulge out of her head. "What?" she gives a disbelieving snort. "You're lying. I would never do-"

"But you did, Elena. And it was really quite phenomenal." His tone is laced with barely contained mirth. "If you'd been like this back in Mystic Falls you and I would have gotten along a lot better."

Elena shakes her head, but even as she does, memories of last night begin to resurface. Loud, pounding, constant music, the burn of the alcohol, and laughing until her ribs hurt all blurred into one hazy experience. The only thing she can remember clearly is the feel of Damon's hands on her body, and the urge she'd felt to act wilder then she ever had. The need to show him how much fun she could be and the need to impress him. Maybe she had danced on the bar... she does vaguely remember asking a fellow club goer to giver her a boost...

Damon takes the shake of her head as more denial and in a blur of movement he's crossed the room to a tall dresser and has picked up a thin sliver camera. "Oh, but you did, Elena," he looks downright gleeful and it's so familiarly sinister that Elena has to blink. "I've got the pictures and video to prove it." His eyes sparkle at her shell shocked expression and his eyes catch sight of something behind her on the bed post. She turns to look but before she can he's already crossed the room to pick it up and gone back to his place beside the dresser. Her black bra dangles from where it's hooked over his fingers. "Weren't you looking for this?"

Her head is spinning and her temples ache; she's confused and a little shocked at her alleged behavior from last night. But even so, as she looks at him across the room with a challenge in his eyes, she can't help the joy that still builds in her chest as she absorbs his playful behavior. "Damon," Elena tries to sound stern but the laughter leaks into her voice. He raises an eyebrow. She tries again. "Damon, give it back"

"Come get it." She should be annoyed; should demand he give her back her clothes, ask where the bathroom is, and get ready to leave. But instead Elena feels happy to play along, delighted even. She's so surprisingly and utterly comfortable with him, it feels like those years have never even passed. Should it be this easy?

She knows that trying to talk him into handing over her clothes would be useless, and accepts the challenge. Making sure the pillow is still clutched to her chest, Elena gets up slowly from the bed and takes a few steps forward, eyes smiling.

"How did I end up topless anyway?" she asks trying to distract him.

He keeps his bright eyes on hers. "Do you usually sleep with a top on?" She lunges and he darts out of the way, using his super speed to his full advantage.

"Not fair." She blows the hair out of her face and rounds on him again. "And no, I don't"

"When have I ever been fair? Then there you go. Habit. But let me tell you," he moves at his superhuman speed again so that he's standing on top of the bed and is looking down at her. "If I didn't actually like you, it would have been for a totally different reason."

Elena arranges the pillow and moves towards the bed. She doesn't bother to get on, he'll just speed off in a second anyway, so she stands in front of it and looks up. "What do you mean?" She swipes at his leg, but he moves before she can make contact and jumps off so he's on the other side. The light that streams around him from his place in front of the window makes Elena's breath catch in her throat. So beautiful...

"I mean," he says, his amused voice forces her to focus, "if you were some random girl you'd have been topless before we even left that club." She makes a move to crawl on the bed to fake him out, and, just as she suspected, he moves so he's behind her again. "I don't take advantage of people I like. Most of the time." Elena looks at him holding her bra in his hand, looks at the straps falling over the silver of his ring, and a brief picture of what could have been flashes before her eyes. He's watching her closely, his body relaxed as always, but anticipating her next move. Again her breath stutters as she takes him in. His eyes look grey today against the dark purple v-neck he's wearing, and his dark blue jeans fit him perfectly. She looks down at his feet and stares. Elena doesn't think she's ever seen him in just his socks before. They're nothing special, just plain white socks, but something about seeing his toes move in them makes something warm spread through her body.

She looks away from his feet and something dark just outside the doorway catches her eye. She looks up to see him looking at her curiously. Before he knows what she's doing she darts past him and scoops up her black top. She lets the pillow drop onto the hallway floor and she pulls the black fabric over her head. Turning, she shoots him triumphant smile. "I win. Now where's your bathroom?"

Damon blinks and a slightly disgruntled expression crosses his face. He flings the bra onto the white bed spread. "Spoil sport."