This story begins immediately following the events of 4x01.

My last story was so much fun to write, I couldn't resist doing another :)

I think the tone of this one will be lighter, most likely.

It just required a slight adjustment to the left- There. He exhaled and rolled out from under his '67 Camaro. Sitting up, he glanced down at himself. Filthy. Grease smudges everywhere: his forearms, the pale defined lines of his chest, no doubt his face, as well.

He scanned the double-car garage for a spare rag and didn't see one. He did spot his black t shirt hanging limply where he'd left it on the edge of the propped-up hood of his car. After another fruitless inspection, he gave up. Fuck it. He grabbed the shirt and wiped his hands with it.

Just giving his car a courtesy tune-up. It was going to need it for a long drive. It was high time he got the hell out of Mystic Falls. Elena had made her choice, and, as usual, it wasn't him. Fine, Elena could be with Stefan, and he would leave gracefully and let those two to be happy. He had no idea where he'd go yet. He had no plan, just a burning desire to avoid witnessing their Happily Ever After.

"Damon?" Hearing Elena's voice, he started to stand, on the verge of calling back, when she skidded around the corner, long dark hair swirling madly around her face, and spied him in the garage. "Hey, I was – " Her voice trailed off as he straightened and turned to face her. Her eyes flew to his bare chest, still covered in streaks of grease, and her jaw dropped, heart rate spiking. Her mouth formed a perfect O, and she seemed dazzled, a fact that had nothing to do with the sun shining brightly behind her.

A warm sense of male satisfaction filled him. He liked witnessing the effect he had on her. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Her mouth snapped shut so violently her teeth clicked together. She cleared her throat and wiped her palms on her blue jeans. "Um, I was wondering… I need you to teach me to control the bloodlust."

He smiled sardonically. "What's the matter? I thought Stefan was indoctrinating you into his cult. Not cut out for the vampire vegan lifestyle?"

"He is, and I thought it was working," she said slowly. She worried her full bottom lip and stepped completely into the shadowy interior of the garage. "But the thing is, I was in school yesterday, and I couldn't stop staring at this guy's throat. There was this vein in his neck, and it was just pulsing, and then I was standing literally right next to him, but I couldn't even remember moving my feet."

Veins radiated out across her cheeks as she began to lose control at just the thought of her desire for human blood.

He took a step towards her, hands up. "Elena, hey. Calm. Breathe."

Looking horrified, her hands flew to her mouth. In a low, breathless voice, she whispered, "I almost ripped into him right in front of the entire class. The animals – they're not enough."

"Duh. Vampires eat people."

She spread her hands imploringly. "Then help me. I can't ask Stefan; you know how much he struggles with this."

Damon cocked his head, watching her closely. "Does he know you're here?"

"Yes."

He studied her for any signs of guilt. She was terrible at lying.

After a few moments under his intense scrutiny, she looked down. "He's not happy about it, but he agrees it's the best option."

He crossed his arms, and a few locks of raven hair fell freely across his temples. "Well, I'm busy. Go ask Caroline."

"I'm asking you. And Care's….occupied."

"Doing what? I don't think butting her perky, annoying nose into everybody's business qualifies as occupied."

She just gave him a look, the kind that dragged fishhooks through his soul.

It really irked that even though she'd 'let him go' – to use her words which had been cycling through his brain on an endless loop since the night Ric died in his arms and she'd drowned going off Wickory bridge - she still had the audacity to come to him the instant she needed something. It was even more irksome that he would trip over himself in his haste to do exactly as she asked, just like that, damn his black heart.

He grumbled, "Well, if you want my help, we need to go this afternoon. I'm leaving town in the morning."

Elena's eyebrows drew together in surprise. "Why? I mean, why are you leaving?"

He held up a hand and began to tick items off with his fingers. "Let's see. My best friend is dead. Klaus is no longer a concern, since you're a vampire now." He made a silly, inquisitive face. "What am I forgetting?" His features grew hard. "Oh, right, you made your choice. Less than interested in sticking around to see how the happy lovebirds fare."

"Right," she murmured, having the grace to look embarrassed. "Ok, well, whenever you want to go is fine. The sooner the better."

Damon advanced on her, and she shuffled backwards, eyes dilated, muscles tense, until her ass encountered the metal workbench attached to the garage wall. She grabbed it for balance. He stopped when there was maybe half a foot of space between them. "If we're gonna do this, it's my way, Elena. You follow my rules, and you do what I say."

"Fine, I promise." Her eyes dipped down to his chest, and her breath caught in her throat. He heard metal creak as her grip on the workbench tightened and she forgot to control her new vampire strength.

He leaned in even closer, and she exhaled in a rush, "But you have to wear a shirt."

He grinned. "I won't hold you to the same. If you're inclined to go topless, please feel free to indulge." Yeah, he was being an ass, and he shouldn't tease her like this. She was Stefan's girl, but he couldn't help himself.

And really, why should he behave? What had it accomplished? He had the infuriating net gain of zip, zilch, nada. For all his efforts, the girl he loved had still rejected him, and now that his departure from the one place he thought of as home was imminent, he wouldn't be around to face any of the repercussions for his actions. Screw being a good boy; all his incentive to behave was gone.

Plus, she was super adorable when she was flustered.

He probably should move, but he really didn't want to. The sliver of space between them was charged, electric. Less than six inches of space separated her lush curves from his hard lines. It would be nothing to close that gap. Nothing, and everything.

As if she could read his thoughts, she whispered, "Damon, don't. You're filthy."

Oh, she had no idea. He shrugged, glacial blue eyes growing heavy-lidded. "So, stick around and help me get clean. My tub's big enough for two." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm thinking a sponge bath'll probably do the trick."

Her gaze had been locked on his lips the entire time he was speaking, and now it snapped back up to his eyes. She smiled in spite of herself, shaking her head.

He took pity on her and relented a mere fraction of an inch, enough for her to wiggle sideways, ducking past him.

She turned to face him as she made her way backwards towards the garage entrance. "Do you always have to be so…" she searched for the right word, "impossible?"

"Mm-hmm," he confirmed breezily.

"I'll come back in a few hours, then, I guess?"

He winked. "You can come anytime you want; I'm easy like that."

She blushed prettily and scurried out of sight, feet scrambling over each other so quickly she reminded him of a cartoon character.

Walking back over to his car, he slammed the hood shut. He picked up his dirty t shirt and tried wiping his hands again in vain.

Her choice wouldn't be such an onerous pill to swallow if he didn't know the truth. She didn't smell like indifference when she was around him. No, quite the opposite. She smelled like lavender shampoo and sunshine and desire. He could scent the sweet wetness that bloomed between her legs every time they eye fucked.

He also heard the way her heart stuttered and her blood raced every time she stared at his mouth. He noticed the way her hands clenched at her sides every time she had to force herself not to give in to the urge to touch him. She could hide none of these things from him.

He couldn't fathom why she would pretend to prefer his brother. A brief surge of resentment flared through him at the thought that she'd deny them the chance to explore whatever it was they had going on between them. One freely-given, glorious kiss in Denver, was that really all he was going to get?

Whatever. His eyes narrowed to slits. He'd teach her control and how to feed responsibly on people because apparently he was incapable of denying her anything, but he definitely planned on enjoying himself in the process.