This two-week wait between 4x06 and 4x07 is too damn long, so I wrote this to get it out of my system. It's obviously, definitely, not going down like this, but it's fun to dream. Thanks for all the kind words. I too am desperate for good, post 4x06 fanfiction. :)

It's the first day. The first day of being single Elena, just Elena, Elena the friend, Elena the vampire, Elena the ex-girlfriend, Elena the sister, Elena the monster. Just Elena. I already feel lighter.

I miss my mom. And my dad. Just like every morning, I entertain for a moment that my dad will knock on the door to get me going on my way to school, that my mother will shout from downstairs to Jeremy. For just a moment, and then I remember that we're a quiet house now. Just me, just Jeremy.

First things first- I'm hungry. I roll out of bed and go on autopilot. Shower, dress, mascara, out the door. 7am. I jog a couple blocks to the gas station. I follow the gas station attendant into the bathroom and have a bite. It's warm, metallic, and so good. I stop. "You're going to have a great day today," I tell her, "and nothing is going to break your good mood. Now go."

I buy a gallon of milk for Jeremy, because teenage boys and all that, and, after pausing to think about it for fifteen seconds, a six-pack of Sierra Nevada for me. California would be fun, lots of sun and ocean. I could get away. Wouldn't it be nice to get away.

But that won't be today, because duty calls, and it's the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, show, parade, dance, whatever. At least they made the event an evening event - people were doing too much day-drinking years past and the pageant candidates weren't immune. Not very ladylike. Anyways, as an upstanding member of the community, I better be there. Also, I'm Caroline's best friend, so I'm definitely there.

And, of course, maybe he'll be there. The seed of the idea starts bursting open in my mind before I bury it back down. No. He has no reason to be there. Stop it.

But during the day - I can do anything I want today. I don't have to worry about Stefan, or Stefan's schedule, or making time for Stefan to phone in our relationship. I am so damn free I can hardly stand it. And it feels great. I feel myself beaming.

At home, I grab a book, my journal, and, in a pang of sentimentalism, write a little note for Jeremy letting him know where I'll be. I sign it with my name and a happy face. A happy face! I'm happy.

I spend the morning at the cafe in front of Mystic Grill. I'm switching things up. I'm pretending I'm at a cafe in Paris- I'm a writer, a student, an artist, spending a morning in a Parisian cafe, sipping coffee and eating a croissant. I settle in to my book, and despite being able to hear every conversation for a quarter-mile like radio chatter, I escape for a while, living as Anna Karenina, purging my own angst through her. I'm not Anna.

"Jer! Let's go, we're going to be late!"

"I'm coming!"

My little studmuffin brother (not so little anymore) hustles downstairs and greets Matt in the language of bros - with a slight nod of the head and a "dude", "hey dude". Matt's technically my date, but I think he and Jeremy have bonded a lot lately, which is why he agreed to come with me. It's also me.

We head out, piling into Matt's truck.

"How are you? Doing okay?" He's such a sweet guy.

"Yeah," I say, with confidence, "I'm okay. I feel pretty good, actually."

"Good, I'm glad. Not that I'm especially excited about Miss Mystic Falls."

"I know, right? I'm somewhat worried about Caroline. Klaus is her date."

"Things are going to get weird," chimes in Jeremy.

"I know, but I guess Caroline can handle it. If she needs help, she'll ask." Truthfully, I admire Caroline. She came into her own when she became a vampire. She's still Caroline, she's just more Caroline than she ever was before.

"How's the mark? Any change?" I hope it's gone. I want Jeremy's life to be as un-supernatural as possible.

"Still there. And I'm not sure if my memory is playing tricks on me, but the pattern's kind of different day to day."

"Really? How?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try us."

"Well, I think my mood affects it. When I'm frustrated...it kind of...grows a little bit, and then goes back."

We're quiet after that. We should probably quit the supernatural talk...and right on time, we pull up to the mansion.

We're trotting up to the entrance when, out of the corner of my eye, I see him walking up. He looks so good.

"You guys go ahead." They both turn their heads, see Damon, and don't even pause. "See you inside."

I slow down and as we walk towards each other, I feel my shoulders go back. I feel stronger. I am stronger.

"Hi." Yes, independent Parisian cafe artist writer girl came up with that one all by herself. I am the definition of smiling shyly.

"Hello, Elena." He's completely unreadable.

"How are you?" My smile is fading.

"Same old." He pauses, inclines his head, and looks up at me through his eyelashes. "Just so we get it out of the way, Stefan told me. That you broke up."

I take a deep breath. "Yes, we did."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

He makes the shape of an "oh" with his mouth, and nods once, sticking his hands into his pockets. He looks up at the mansion, back at me, and sticks his elbow out my way, offering me his arm. I take it, and we walk up to the mansion. I'm sweating like crazy. Why am I sweating? Vampires don't sweat, do they? But I'm sweating. I am also sweating in that awkward place around my knees. He's so close to me. I can feel every muscle in his arm against mine. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Nobody pays any attention to us inside the mansion, but I really wish they would so I would have someone to distract me from Damon. Anybody, really, because there's only so much time we can go without saying anything to each other. I see Tyler across the room, brooding over a diet coke. Hah. Diet Coke. That's hilarious. It's probably spiked. Okay. I'm in charge here. New Elena.

Keeping my eyes on Tyler, I ask, "Will you come with me for a second? I'm going to say hi to Tyler. He doesn't look so good."

"Team Jacob? Sure."

I glance up at him, and he's smirking at his joke. Okay, he's back. I look back at Tyler, and he's looking out the window. Klaus and Caroline just showed up. On second thought, perhaps he's best left alone.

"You know what? Never mind. Let's just go outside. I want a drink."

I practically drag him outside by the arm before ditching him at the door to go to the bar.

"Gin and tonic, please."

"ID, please."

Hah. "You don't need to see my ID."

"I don't need to see your ID."

"That's absolutely right."

I smile brilliantly at the bartender, who grins stupidly back at me. He looks like someone. John Stamos. Oh god, really? I almost laugh at myself out loud. Not my type, but still cute.

"Having a good day?" I lean an elbow on the bar. I haven't flirted in a while. He's crushing some ice.

"Yeah, it's going alright. This is the only event we have today." He looks at me and grins. "I'm free later." Too easy.

"Are you really?"

"Yeah." Monosyllabic, but what the hell.

"Bourbon, rocks, please." Damon's at my elbow. Boo. And Stamos and I had something, clearly. He's shaking and stirring, and Damon looks down at me and rolls his eyes, though there's clearly a smile there, too. Very quickly, I stick my tongue out at him and scrunch up my face. Seduction, thy name is Elena.

Stamos hands me my drink. "Thank you. Maybe I'll see you later. " I tip him a few dollars.

"Maybe you won't." Damon tips him a twenty.

"Show-off," I hiss, as he steers me away from the bar, and suddenly his hand is on the small of my back, and I can feel everything. I am warm all over. I can do anything.

We sit on a stone bench as people mill around, waiting for the show to start. I'm sipping busily at my gin and tonic. I have nothing to say, thank you very much.

"So, where's your date?" He thinks he sounds sassy, but I can hear the tension in his voice.

"Who?" I ask. I'm so innocent.

"Quarterback, aspiring member of our crime-fighting crew?"

"Oh, Matt." He's across the patio with Jeremy, and they have glommed onto Tyler. Good, maybe they can make him feel better.

I shrug. "He's over there. He's fine." My turn. Do it, Elena. Do it. "What about you? Who's the victim?"

He snorts. "You don't need to do that."

"I don't?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please arrange yourselves around the floor, we are about to present this year's candidates for Miss Mystic Falls!"

Damon stands up, puts his drink down on the bench, and extends a hand down to me.

"You know why I'm here. But this one's all on you."

I look up at him, bite my lower lip, and take his hand while looking down at the ground. As we walk over, he moves to release my hand from his grip. Almost urgently, I snatch at his fingers and lace mine with his. I don't look- at my hands, at him, just straight ahead, where the crowd is arranged around the floor.

I'm sweating again. It feels secret, exciting, to hold his hand between the folds of my dress, hiding in front of everyone. He squeezes, and i can feel his eyes on me. I can't look. I can't look. I squeeze back.

We spend the rest of the presentation like that. I'm in a trance. People speak, the girls come out with their dates, they dance, somebody says something else, there's more dancing. I don't know. I can feel every hair on my arm stand up, every contour of the pads of his fingers, and the shape and feel of his nails. Are these vampire senses? Are these just me?

"Remember last year?" He whispers. Last year. Of course, last year. AWOL Stefan, and an unnerving dance with Damon. For a moment, I feel stupid. Why couldn't I read those signs? For so long...

"Yeah," I whisper, "I remember."

I rub my fingers into his palm. I want to pull away to rub my hand against my dress, but I don't want to break contact.

"Do you want to leave?" Was that me asking that question?

"Say the word, princess peach."

I know he's being blithe, but I'm feeling reckless around him. Reckless enough to leave this stupid event, this stupid party.

"Okay, let's go." I start backing up slowly, tugging him along with me. We walk quietly away, and as we're leaving, Damon grabs a bottle of liquor from the bar.

"Seriously?!" I hiss, not mad at all.

"What!?"

I get a yen for playing pool, and we end up at the Grill. This is awesome. I am doing whatever I want. And my feet don't even hurt from walking in heels - the Vampire Advantage.

"Alright, what are we playing for?" He's enjoying the turn this evening has taken. He's got his sleeves rolled up and he is meticulously racking the game.

"Let's start with some booze." I motion to the liquor bottle that he brought.

"Done. Let's go. You're toast."

"Okay, badass, less talking, more playing."

Even with vampire senses, I'm only okay, but who gives a shit, because the music is good, and I'm tossing back shots.

"This is to my mom," I announce suddenly, holding up the bottle, "because I think, despite everything, she would still be proud of me. I've protected my brother even though he's died like three times. And nobody has burnt the house down." I drink, and Damon watches, amused.

"This," I prepare to drink again, "Is for Rebekah. Because now I'm a vampire. Thanks, bitch." I chug. Damon ambles over to my side and grabs the bottle.

"I've got one," he says, "To Klaus. Because now, I seem like a pretty nice guy." I snort in laughter.

"My turn, my turn," I take it back, "To Ric, because I know you miss him." I wrap an arm around his waist as we face the pool table and I take a swig, "and because I know he'd kill you if he saw us together like this."

He laughs, and says, "Okay, let's change the stakes."

"I'm game."

"For every ball I sink, I get to ask you a question, and I get an honest answer. Same for you."

Ah. So that's where we're going. I guess we've avoided it long enough today.

"Alright," I reply, "you're on."

He lets me go first. I sink exactly one ball. Hmm.

"Your favorite female celebrity. The one who, given the chance, you'd run away with."

"Natalie Portman."

"Good answer." Smart, beautiful, fun.

He sinks three.

"Your favorite male celebrity. The one who, given the chance, you'd run away with."

"Hah. George Clooney."

He makes a face. "He's got the studly salt and pepper, I'll give you that, but isn't he a little old for you?"

"What are you, like a hundred and fifty?"

"Touche. What did you want to grow up to be when you were little?"

"A writer."

"Hence the diaries."

"Yep."

His last question of this round. He's standing on the other side of the pool table, his elbows leaned on the edge, looking up at me.

"Were you afraid of me when you first met me?"

"Nope." I really wasn't. I got scared later, actually.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

He pauses, studies me, and moves on. "Okay, your turn."

I sink two balls. Hurray for me.

"Have you ever had a job you liked?"

"Interesting question. Yes, i did. I, ahem, convinced a professor at a university to let me be a research assistant. History. Folklore and mysticism, of course. Learned a ton."

Cool. And for my next question, I'll open the door.

"Why do you like me?"

I'm strategically avoiding the other L-word. He raises his eyebrows.

"Wow. Really?"

I shrug. I do want to know. He places the stick down. walks around to where I'm standing, and before I know what's happening, he's lifted me up to sit on the edge of the pool table. He takes me by the wrist and I feel my veins tingling.

"Well," he starts, playing with my hands, "you're beautiful. You're quite smart. You're very, very kind. And being around you feels...easy." He takes my hand and drops a kiss on it. I'm melting like so many polar ice caps. I bite my bottom lip.

"Okay, let's go," and I start moving to get off the table, ready to take this party somewhere else.

"Oh, I don't think so," he pushes back, laughing, "we're not done here." He gestures back to the pool table. He grabs one of the balls and drops it into the nearest pocket, pleased with himself.

"My turn."

"That's cheating."

"You're lucky, if I'd actually played, I would have sunk three." True enough. "Now, why do you like me?"

Moment of truth. "Well." Our interlaced hands become very interesting to me. "It's kind of crazy." Quit the teenage girl-speak. "When I'm with you, I feel...free." I'm incredibly shy right now. What am I even saying? "Like we could go have adventures together. Like we could run away together from everything, and it would be okay."

I look up into his eyes, and he's beaming. I start smiling back, and we're just two idiots in the Grill.

"Now can we go?"

He tucks my hair back behind my ears, rearranging strands of hair. A spark travels down my back, my eyes feels heavy and I want to melt into him.

"Okay, we can go." I hope off the table, liquor bottle in hand, and we leave.

We're trotting around outside and I'm not sure where we're going. I'm also playing the slightly buzzed card (scratch that - I think I'm actually buzzed), which gives me a great excuse to cling to his arm and get as close as I can. We walk past the park and I hop up onto the barrier, taking his hand for balance as I tightrope my way forward. I stop and release his hand.

"I'm going to backflip off this barrier."

"Oh my god, you are drunk." He's laughing.

"Aren't you worried?"

"No, you're a vampire. Break your neck, it'll heal."

"You're supposed to care a little more, aren't you?" My hands are on my hips.

He holds his hands out and shrugs, laughing. "I'll spot you."

"Don't even worry. Ex-cheerleader over here."

I turn around, bring my feet together, and hang my heels off the edge. It's only three feet up. I bend, spring, and release.

"Hah! Nailed it!" That felt so good. I hold my arms up, gymnast-style, and acknowledge my adoring audience of one, who is golf-clapping. I walk up to him slowly. Strong Elena. New Elena. I grasp his jacket and feel a rush of bravery.

"Kiss me." I feel every letter in the words I speak come out of my mouth. I can hear every sound in this park, every light rustle in the bushes, every passing car. I can hear my heart beat above it all.

His pupils go dark and enlarge, and he reaches down for my hips and my hands rest on his arms.

"I don't know what exactly has gotten into you, other than alcohol," he says, "but I really, really like it. It's you. More you." He's leaning his forehead on mine.

"It's me," I say, closing my eyes, "it's really, really me."

And then we kiss, and I'm warm all over, crawling out of my own skin, and I'm hovering somewhere above the two of us. I feel him letting go, and he pulls me closer a little more forcefully, tugs my hair, tips my head back, and drifts an electric hand towards my exposed lower back.

He breaks it off and again presses his forehead to mine. I feel a wave of tenderness, take his face in my hands, and kiss his forehead. You are loved.

"Okay," he breathes, "let's go."

"Your place? Are you alone?"

"Yeah. It's just me."

"Okay," I smile somewhat mischievously, "then let's go".

We take it slow. I should probably be more nervous, given his filing cabinet of experience, but for some reason, I'm not worried or holding it against him. We're standing next to his bed, and now, without the advantage of my heels, I'm realizing, in a rush of primal feelings, that he's tall.

"So," I say, as I start slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, "I haven't said everything I need to say yet."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"It's pretty simple, actually." It is. "I just want to tell you that I think you're my best friend." I stop undoing his buttons and look up at him. "I think that's why I love you so much."

He's not shocked, but something like understanding washes over him. He gets it now. He believes me. He knows. He lifts one hand to my face.

"I am so, so in love with you," he loads every word with meaning, and I believe him too.

"No more talking," I say gently. I smile, and we don't.

The first time is intense and we can't get close enough, until we do. The second time it gets better, but only because our foreplay involves a lot more laughing. He blows raspberries into my neck, which makes me wildly ticklish and forces me to fight back by straddling him and tickling his sides, which leaves him wheezing with laughter. We relax into each other and get even closer.

Sex wakes me up, so I can't sleep post-coitus. He's making an effort to stay awake for my sake, because I'm bouncing off the walls. I want to play a game. I want to go for a run. I want to talk and talk. i want to dance. Yes! i can do that here. I flip on the radio, pull his shirt on, and do my best running man, sprinkler, and disco fever on the dark wooden floor. I drag him off the bed to join me and he plays along.

We get a slow song. He bows, looking ridiculous in boxers. I curtsy, still wearing his shirt, and we dance.

"It's going to be like this, right?" I ask, tucking my face into his neck.

"Yeah. Just like this. For a good, long, while." He strokes my hair.

"I think I can do that."

"I think you can too."

I practically fall asleep in his arms, and he carries me back to the bed, deposits me gently, and falls asleep with an arm drawn protectively across me.

My last thought before I fall asleep is yeah- I can do this.