Disclaimer – I don't own The Vampire Diaries, though I'd love to own a Damon.

Author's note – This is my first attempt at fanfiction. All reviews are welcome and encouraged, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Elena tried to relax in the comfortable front seat of Damon's Mustang, but the adrenaline was still coursing through her system. He had almost been killed. He had been beaten and doused in gasoline and was a hair's breadth away from being lit on fire. As much as the thought of Damon's demise might have appealed to her a couple of months ago, she was glad that she had been able to save him from the flame-filled death Lexi's boyfriend had planned for him. She smiled, pleased with herself.

He arched a brow at her. "What are you smiling at? Is watching me get my ass kicked really that amusing?" He rolled down his window in an attempt to dilute the heavy smell of gasoline that had filled his car.

She laughed. "Well, yes, but that's not why I was smiling. I'm just glad I was able to stop him." The smile dropped from her face as she looked over at him and got caught in his penetrating gaze. "We may never be best friends, but I certainly would never wish…that on you." Turning, she looked out the window, watching the dark scenery flash by.

"Thank you," he said very quietly, with a sincerity she had never heard from him before.

She kept her head turned towards the window and replied just as softly, "You're welcome."

They had driven in silence; enjoying their newfound camaraderie for fifteen minutes when Elena realized there was no way she could sit next to a gasoline soaked Damon for another eight hours. The odor, combined with the alcohol she had consumed, was starting to make her light headed.

"Did you bring any extra clothes? You should probably change," she suggested, twisting her torso to look in the back seat, hoping to see a duffel bag or some sort of suitcase. It was empty.

"I didn't pack anything," he shrugged and then smirked, "I'd be willing to take off my clothes and drive naked, if the fumes are really bothering you."

She ignored his comment as she spied a familiar sight in the distance. "There!" Elena waved frantically as they rolled down the highway. "We can get you new clothes and I can get snacks for the ride home." She glanced over at Damon who looked horrified at her suggestion.

"Wal-Mart! I am not buying clothes at Wal-Mart, Elena," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He gestured toward himself. "This body belongs in John Varvatos, not Wrangler."

She breathed in deeply, trying to suppress her irritation at his blatant snobbery and began to sputter and cough as the gasoline fumes choked her airway. "Fine," she wheezed, "I guess I'll stick my head out the window like a dog for the next 400 miles."

Emitting a low growl, he turned the steering wheel sharply towards the brightly lit lot. Elena yelped as the sudden action slid her across the front seat until she was pressed against Damon from knee to shoulder. She was momentarily stunned by the contact. His lean frame was solidly muscled and in her mildly inebriated state she found herself appreciating his innate masculinity before she remembered that it was Damon. Scooting back across the seats she realized that now, she too, smelled like gasoline.

"Ugh…dammit Damon! Now I have to buy new clothes too," she whined as she plucked at her wet sleeve.

He smirked, "Good. Why should I be the only one forced to look like a Nascar refugee?"

He could swear he heard her muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "drama queen" as he pulled into a space and got out of the Mustang. Faster than her eyes could follow, he had moved to the passenger side and was opening the door for her. She squeezed through the narrow space he had left between his body and the door and he shut the door behind her.

At one o'clock in the morning, Wal- Mart was an assault on the senses. Shiny white linoleum, made shinier by the almost blinding fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling had Elena longing for her sunglasses. She tugged on Damon's arm, "C'mon. Let's get this over with". He allowed her to pull him in the direction of the men's department where he looked scornfully at the racks of clothes.

"These are cute," she grinned as she held a pair of obnoxious plaid shorts up for his perusal. He glared and brushed by her as he made his way to a table of folded jeans. She sighed and put the shorts back on the rack. "Crabby vampire," she whispered to herself.

"I heard that, and I am not crabby," he replied without looking up as he sorted through the stacks of denim. "I'm merely trying to get out of here with my dignity intact." He selected a pair of dark blue jeans and then quickly walked over and plucked a package of plain white Hanes t-shirts from a shelf.

She jumped slightly as he slid his hand onto her lower back. His hand was large and surprisingly warm. "Your turn," he said as he steered her toward the women's clothing.

Elena was unnerved by his proximity and moved away from him, grabbing the first thing she came to, which happened to be a black tank top. She made her way to the jeans and began rifling through them. "They don't have my size," she sighed as she lifted her head, looking for another option.

"Here." Damon handed her a pair of black size 2 jeans. She took them and looked at him questioningly. "They're your size, aren't they?"

"Yes…," she said slowly, eyes searching his face. "How did you know what size I wore?"

He smiled down at her, his icy blue eyes sparkling. "I'm a vampire Elena, my senses are heightened. I have an excellent grasp of spatial awareness," he smiled lasciviously. His breath ruffled her hair as he leaned down and whispered, "Want to know your bra size?" He was so close that she could feel his lips on the shell of her ear.

She shivered and butterflies exploded in her stomach, shocking her. She quickly tamped down her involuntary arousal, and embarrassed by her reaction, jerked away. A rod from the metal clothes racks dug painfully into the skin between her shoulder blades. "Ow! You're such an ass, Damon!" She could hear him laughing as she stalked off, face flaming red, in search of snacks for the long drive ahead of them.

Finding them, she scanned the aisle slowly, not sure if she was in the mood for something salty or sweet. Deciding she wanted both, Elena selected a can of Pringles and then reached for a box of Ding Dongs.

"Ding Dongs? What's wrong with Twinkies?" Damon had caught up to her and was looking at her box of chocolaty confections with disdain.

She sighed theatrically and added a box of Twinkies to the pile in her arms, "Happy now?" He nodded and she rolled her eyes, heading towards the registers.

"I need caffeine. I'm going to get a Coke and I'll meet you up front," he said.

"Grab me one too, please," she replied to his back.

There was only one cashier open at this hour and Elena placed her items on the conveyer belt. The man in line in front of her turned and looked at her lecherously, his eyes skimming over her face before landing on her breasts and hips. He was in his forties, balding, pot-bellied and smelled of beer and stale cigarettes. He smiled, which only served to show that he was in desperate need of a dentist. "What's a cute little thing like you doing out by yourself at this hour? You need a ride home?"

Elena took a step back as she opened her mouth to reply, but Damon beat her to it.

He had appeared in front of her as if out of thin air and though she could only see his back; she could feel the tension and menace rolling off of him in waves. "She has a ride," he ground out. He said something else to the man in a voice too low for her to hear, and Elena watched his eyes go wide with fear. Her admirer quickly turned around and kept his eyes down as the cashier rang up his purchases.

Damon spun around and smiled. "You just make friends everywhere you go, don't you?" He dropped his clothes and the sodas next to her things, "That one looked like a real charmer."

"I could have handled that," she whispered furiously, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

He exhaled loudly. "Simmer down, Xena. I was just trying to be chivalrous. After all, I am a Southern gentleman." He leered at her, looking anything but gentlemanly.

The cashier began to ring up their items and Elena dug into her back pocket to pull out her stash of emergency cash. Damon waved her offering away; she shrugged, and stuffed the money back into her pocket. They gathered their plastic bags and made their way to the bathrooms to change. Damon handed Elena her bag and disappeared into the men's room.

Elena made her way to the ladies room where she promptly washed her face and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it. Staring at herself in the mirror, she thought briefly of the messes waiting for her at home. Stefan. Her car. Aunt Jenna was going to be furious with her….. Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away for the time being, not quite ready to deal with them yet.

She changed quickly and was grateful to be out of the clothes she had spent almost 48 hours in. Stuffing her dirty clothes into her now empty plastic bag, Elena exited the swinging door and found Damon leaning against the wall, waiting for her, looking like a bad boy from the 50's. He had rinsed the gasoline from his hair, and the water made it an inkier black. She couldn't recall having ever seen him in anything other than black and she was startled at how the white of his t-shirt made his eyes pop even more, an impossible shade of blue that she hadn't truly noticed before. He was gorgeous.

Those crystalline eyes fixed on her and he glanced at her outfit in appreciation. "I like you in black. Makes you look all naughty," he said devilishly, while waggling his eyebrows at her.

Her cheeks turned pink and she sighed walking past him, "Let's go James Dean."

"Pffft. I'm Brando, baby," he smiled as they walked out of the store and into the cool night air.

They put their soiled clothes into the trunk and settled back into the car, somewhat cleaner and more relaxed. As Damon pulled onto the highway, Elena began to fiddle the knobs on the radio. She searched through the stations until she found one that suited her mood and sat back as the sounds of "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" filled the air around them.

Damon looked surprised as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, "The Platters, Elena, really? I must say, I am surprised. I had you pegged for a Beyonce/Taylor Swift kind of girl"

"Mmmmm...," she murmured noncommittally, "I like the oldies sometimes." She turned to him with a smile. "Besides, doesn't this bring back pleasant memories for you? Snacking on girls in twinsets and poodle skirts at sock hops?" she asked sarcastically.

"The bad boys didn't go to sock hops, Elena," he replied in a superior tone, "Those were for squares like Stefan."

The smile dropped from her face at the mention of her boyfriend's name. Was he still her boyfriend? An image of Katherine's picture flashed in her mind and she shuddered, feeling used and betrayed. Angry. Was she nothing more than a substitute? An imitation of the girl Stefan really wanted? Why was he really with her? She closed her eyes and took a quiet breath, trying to get a grip on her tangled emotions.

Damon watched the obvious turmoil flit across her face with undisguised interest, "Now that we're such good friends, I just have to ask. How did you find out about Katherine?"

Elena was quiet for so long Damon thought she wasn't going to answer him. "I…I was in Stefan's room. We had just-," she broke off as she drew in a ragged breath and swiped quickly at the traitorous tear that rolled down her cheek. Composing herself, she continued, "Stefan went to get me glass of water. I wasn't snooping…..the picture was just lying on a table in plain sight."

A potent wave of unexpected jealousy ripped through Damon, as he filled in the blanks of what she had left unsaid. She had slept with Stefan. His fingers gripped the steering with brutal force as he struggled to keep his face expressionless and his voice level. "How did he explain himself?"

She raised her eyes from her lap at his question. "Um…I didn't really give him a chance to explain. I bolted. Besides," she continued, her voice rising, "what is there to explain? Obviously, he was only pursuing me because I look like her." The last word was spoken with thinly veiled venom.

The last thing he wanted to do was defend Stefan, but Damon simply couldn't bring himself to let her twist in the wind, thinking she was nothing but a poor man's Katherine. Not after tonight. Not after what she done for him. "Elena….while you do look like Katherine, you could not be more different. Your personalities are polar opposites. I'm guessing that's what attracted Stefan – the differences, not the similarities."

"But I thought he loved her….you both did," she mused softly, a question in her voice.

"We did….. I do," he amended quietly. "Stefan moved on…with you."

She was quiet for awhile as she digested this new information, watching cars pass on the highway and listening to the radio. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in hours. Opening the box of Hostess treats; she pulled out two Ding Dongs and dug her soda out of the plastic bag sitting between her and Damon.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood and diffuse the tension that had permeated the atmosphere.

"What are you offering?" he replied, with a lingering look at her neck.

"Definitely not that." She pulled her hair over her shoulder, effectively blocking his view. She held up his box of Twinkies, "Want one?"

"I suppose," he exhaled in a resigned tone.

She opened the box and unwrapped the spongy golden treat before handing it to him. He ate it in two lightning fast bites, and gestured for another. This process was repeated four more times before Elena asked in an exasperated tone, "Do you just want me to unwrap them all?"

"No need to be sassy, Elena. That was my last one. I need to watch my girlish figure," he replied as he patted his flat muscled stomach.

She rolled her eyes in response and enjoyed her Ding Dongs in silence. The hours wore by in and Elena could spot the first hints of sunrise in the sky. The events of the past two days began to take a toll on her. Her eyelids grew heavy and she rested her head against the passenger window, trying to find a comfortable position so she could sleep. She felt Damon shift in the seat next to her and she opened her eyes.

"Here," he said, handing her a little blanket he had pulled from the backseat. It looked like the ones used on airplanes – thin blue fleece.

"Oh….thanks." She tucked it under her head. It smelled like Damon, a vague hint of some of expensive cologne and something else she couldn't put her finger on. Whatever it was, it was heavenly and she burrowed into it gratefully.

She had only been asleep for a short time when a nightmare consisting of black-booted feet striding towards her with deadly intent pulled her from her slumber with a startled gasp.

Damon's hand was curled around her wrist. "You okay?"

"Fine," she breathed out, her heart still racing. "Had a dream about the mystery man in the road. I'm fine."

"Mmmm." He gently released his hold on her. "We'll find him," he said with conviction, "You have nothing to worry about."

She sat up, giving up on sleep for the moment. She turned to Damon and put her hand on his forearm. She could feel tightly coiled muscle and power under her hand, somehow different from Stefan.

His eyes flitted to her hand before settling on her face. Her hand was so very soft and warm.

"Thank you, Damon…..for everything. Not just for pulling me out of my car and saving me from becoming some vampire's next meal," she shuddered and continued, "but for taking me on this trip with you. Even it was technically kidnapping." There was a hint of a smile on her face for that last part. She paused and removed her hand. "I needed to relax and let loose…..I didn't realize how much I needed that….," she finished quietly.

He gave her a genuine smile, a rarity from him. "Glad I could be of service." His sarcasm swiftly returned though. "Plus, you're quite the entertaining drunk. You were one tequila shot away from dancing on a tabletop. I should try to corrupt you more often."

She laughed. "Oh no. I'm firmly back on the wagon."

She settled back into her seat and watched the dawn break against the horizon. She had no idea what she was going to say to Stefan when they got home, but for some reason, it didn't seem quite so overwhelming anymore. She glanced over at Damon and hoped that their tenuous friendship could survive everything waiting for them back home.