Chapter 6: Your Wish

DAMON

I need her in my bed, on my sheets. I don't know what to do about that look, but I know where I want her to be while I figure it out.

I pull back from her and swing one arm under her legs, cradling her in my arms. I kick the front door belatedly closed, and leave our shredded clothes in the foyer. I should clean up before Stefan comes home but I can't let go of Elena right now.

She rests her head against my shoulder, and I carry her up the stairs at human speed, because that seems appropriate.

"Do you remember when you carried me out of the hospital like this?" she asks.

I nod.

"When they hooked me up to that needle, I knew you'd come. I didn't even know where you were or if you knew I had been taken, but I fell asleep without a doubt in my mind that I'd wake up to you." She tilts her head, studying me. "You probably didn't even consider how much you were pissing off the most powerful vampire in the world when you took me out of there."

"Sure I did. I had a fistfight with him in the parking lot before I came in." I hadn't come out of that fight too brilliantly, either, but she didn't need to know that.

She shakes her head, her pink lips compressed. "I don't understand why you risk so much for me."

I carry her into my room, and a tiny bit of the tension in my chest eases. "That's because you haven't been around long enough to realize how weird you are," I tell her casually, laying her down on my bed like it's no big deal. Like it's not the biggest thing I've ever done.

"Shut up," she protests, swatting my chest lightly.

"I'm serious, Elena. Come on, who loves the way you do? Jesus. And look where that got him," I scoff.

A smile spreads across her face and she rolls her eyes. "Only you could compare somebody to Jesus and make it sound like an insult."

Looking at Elena wearing nothing but a bra, panties, and knee-high boots is unarguably the best use I've ever found for my eyes, but the primitive part of my brain is flooded with post-bloodshare hormones and it is insisting that she be warm and safe in my cave. Instead of staring, I pull off her boots and tuck the sheets around her.

She's watching me with a bemused expression. The shadows under her eyes are still prominent, even after feeding on both me and Stefan.

"Elena, you've got to feed. I know you're not ready, but we can't put it off anymore."

"I know," she says in a very small voice. She reaches up and grabs my hand, tugging me down on the bed next to her. I kick my boots off, but don't resist. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course. There's not really any risk in feeding off a human if you're not alone. I just won't let you take too much. "

She nods. "I still wish I didn't have to hurt anybody."

I grimace. "You don't. What the hell has Stef been telling you? If you do it right, you can feed without hurting them, and you don't have to take that much to stay healthy."

"Yes, but I'm still taking, stealing from people for my own benefit without giving anything in return." She doesn't say it, but I know she's still feeling guilty for earlier.

"So give something back," I say lightly. "Problem solved."

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"You know you can heal the bites with your blood. And yeah, you have to use compulsion to make them forget, but flip that coin over, Elena."

"What?"

"Use your compulsion to do something good," I say with exaggerated patience. "Give them what they need. Self-esteem, confidence, even just a day where they feel really great. Then you're even."

She looks at me like she's never seen me before. "Have you ever done that?"

I smile scornfully and grab a pillow, stuffing it under my head. I don't answer her.

She trails her fingers down my jawline, which makes me want to purr like a cat. "You're kind of amazing, Damon Salvatore."

"Yeah, I'm sure I'm the first one to ever consider that use for compulsion," I say sarcastically. "If Stefan wasn't so busy reveling in his hair shirt he might have to admit that there are some good things about being a vampire."

"It did get me some great jewelry," Elena says.

I touch her new daylight ring, feeling smug. "Like that, do you?"

"It's beautiful."

"Course it is," I say, because I can't resist. "I had it designed for you."

Her eyes go wide. "But Stefan gave it to me."

"'Bonnie made this for you,'" I quote. "I bet Bonnie didn't tell him where she got it from."

"You heard us," she says, looking sad.

"New vampire tip, Elena: if you want privacy, don't have vampire roommates. We need to get you an anklet too. Or a pair of little stud earrings. Some kind of backup for the ring, so people can't steal it every time they want to use you to light a cigarette. The best thing would be a piece of metal they can't see and wouldn't guess. Like a piercing." I nod meaningfully toward her lap and she gapes at me.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"It would work," I say unrepentantly.

She shakes her head. "Always protecting me. I should have been protecting you."

"From what? I'm a big, bad vampire, remember?"

"From me," she says quietly.

I tuck a hand behind my head. Lesson learned. Never give Elena Gilbert a guilt trip or she'll never get over it.

"Hail Mary, full of grace," I recite in a mocking falsetto.

When she doesn't smack me, I peek down at her. She's wearing a sexy little smile, and a blush is creeping up her cheeks.

"You have a Catholic fetish?" I wonder.

"No, that is the position you lay in whenever you come into my room. Even in Denver. You push my boundaries by showing up in my bed without invitation and then you lay on your hands so you don't pressure me." She touches my elbow. "It's sweet."

"You're not blushing because you think I'm sweet," I point out, ignoring her interpretation of my body language. "What were you really thinking about?"

"Sweet and sensitive. Careful, Damon, you're crushing your reputation here."

"Ah, deflection. Such a familiar strategy. Try again."

"Fine." She glances down at my stomach, toying with one of the few buttons left on my shirt. Now that's a distraction strategy that might actually work. "I probably owe you a secret or two anyway." She clears her throat. "When you used to come into my room like that, I would always have the same fantasy when you left."

"About hiding a shotgun in your closet for the next time I tried it?"

She shakes her head, smiling guiltily and not looking at me. I am very interested in this fantasy.

She bites her lip.

"Come on, whisper it to me," I encourage.

She leans up shyly and puts her lips next to my ear. I could keep my own fantasy life pretty busy just on that.

"I used to think about you making me strip."

I pretend to gasp. "Elena Gilbert. I don't even think I'm old enough to be hearing fantasies this dirty."

"It gets worse," she admits.

"Let me get some parental guidance on the line for this."

She pinches me. "You're terrible."

"But not in bed…" I tease.

She laughs. "Damon!"

Things have been so grim lately that I actually forgot that Elena and I have fun together, when we're not ripping each other's hearts out.

"Come on, get to the dirty parts," I encourage.

"So, I was usually coming out of the bathroom when I found you on my bed and in the fantasy, you wouldn't smile or joke or anything. You'd catch my eyes and compel me to strip for you."

"You have fantasies about me compelling you? I'm calling the morality police."

She looks even guiltier. "You didn't actually compel me, not even in the fantasies. You just looked at me, and I pretended that you compelled me so that I could act like I had to do it, when really I just wanted to."

"Even in your fantasies you can't admit you actually want me." I shake my head and get up. I'm instantly furious, too pissed to even care I'm losing my chance to take proper advantage of the combination of Elena and my bed. "I really am a problem for you, aren't I? You just fucking hate that you want me."

"I only said that at the Mikaelson ball because it would be so much easier to ignore my feelings for you if you didn't feel the same," she protests and then I see something flicker across her face faster even than my eyes can follow.

She sits up.

"And why shouldn't I be scared to want you? Stefan's the safer choice. He's easier, more considerate."

"He's a pussy!" I explode, tired to the bone of being compared to my little goddamn brother. "He lets you have your way even when you shouldn't. He doesn't challenge you when you're wrong. He's too scared to get over himself long enough to help you figure out how to be a decent vampire."

"That's because he understands me," she counters immediately. "He knows I wouldn't be able to live with hurting anyone."

"You wouldn't hurt anyone if he was man enough to be there and support you!" I shout. "He understands you? He understands the cute little teenager he started dating! He doesn't understand shit about the girl who was smart enough to stab Ric to death to save his life. He knows enough to know that you would want him to save Matt first, but not enough to recognize you were killing yourself to save us."

"What, like you could do better?" she shouts back.

"I have been doing better!" I grab an empty glass off the nightstand and hurl it into the bathroom, where it shatters on the tiles. "Who the hell taught you to fight back instead of just sacrificing yourself to your enemies? Who taught you to laugh and make bad chili while you were waiting for the next attempt on your life? It sure as fuck wasn't my-sense-of-humor-didn't-survive-my-transition Stefan. And if you would open your eyes for one goddamn second you would realize it doesn't matter whose class ring or necklace or whatever you're wearing. You and I already have a relationship, and you know it is more real than anything you ever had with Stefan."

"Open your eyes, Damon," she says gently. "I'm wearing your ring."

It's her tone of voice that clues me in. She's not angry, she's just getting me to make her arguments for her. I've been played.

My eyes narrow. "What the hell?" I lunge at her, but she's too fast now and she zips out the door in a blur of color and satisfied laughter.

I was just accusing Stefan of not being smart enough to see her underlying motivations, but I made the same mistake. She knows I'm no good at mushy, do-you-really-love-me conversations. But I am great at arguing, and I damn well know I am better for her than Stefan would ever be.

I chase her down the stairs, glorying in the speed and the sound of her laughter. Being a vampire with Elena is going to be fun.

It doesn't take me long to catch her, because I'm older and faster. Or maybe because she wants to be caught.

I pull her to a stop with my arms around her waist and she twists around to steal a kiss.

"You're an ass, Damon. But I love you."

I mock-glare at her, then smile cockily. "I know."

Her face softens, and I know it was hurting her that I didn't believe her.

Enough angst. I am right for her, and I am done letting her try to squirm out of it. She can try to change her mind and always-Stefan me twice a week and I'll just drag her right back into my room and show her how wrong she is. This girl is mine, and I am ready to start enjoying the benefits of that. Starting now.

I turn the full force of my compulsion on her, which of course does nothing because she's a vampire. "You're going to go upstairs and act out every second of those compulsion fantasies for me. Even the really dirty parts you were too embarrassed to tell me about earlier."

"Your wish is my command, my love," she says softly, and she kisses me like it is the only thing she's ever wanted to do.