Well readers, this is the final chapter of I Wouldn't Mind It At All. I've been working on this one for awhile; but there were some definite obstacles in the way! First, my computer contracted some type of virus, and my hardrive wouldn't function normally. For a while there, I thought all my private works were lost! But I was able to save most of the data to a jumpdrive. And then, I got a new computer for Christmas, and have been typing and editing away ever since. This was the first story that I had real motivation to finish. It was originally a one-shot, and with your encouragement, it flourished into so much more. Thank you for the support, the reviews, and the love that I received for this piece. I hope that the ending is what you wanted it to be. This was the end I had pictured from the beginning; so this is how it will be. Thanks so much, and without further ado, Chapter 11, You're Gonna Be The One That Saves Me.

Much love to you all! xoxo, WhereIsYourHeart10

And all the roads we have to walk are winding,
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you,
But I don't know how.
'Cause maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all you're my Wonderwall.

-Wonderwall, Oasis

Damon's eyes were unmistakably mischievous when she first opened her own. Elena rearranged herself in the passenger seat of the Mustang they were traveling in. "What are you so happy about?" she asked him. Damon managed to pull a more serious look to his face as he drove down the dusty, desert highway.

Staring straight ahead, he answered effortlessly, "Nothing, just happy to be with you."

She looked at him in suspicion. After months of blissful existence with little to distract her, she'd grown accustomed to the way he acted and what each look on his face meant. This look meant he was up to something, she was sure of it.

"And we're going to see Stefan finally?" The question hung in the air; she was testing his reactions, seeing if he would give away whatever secret he had locked away.

"True, I'm happy to see my little brother and see him settled," he said in his best gentlemanly voice.

Okay, she couldn't take it any longer. "What are you up to?"

He laughed his deep, throaty laugh, the one that made even her toes happier. "Muah? Up to something? Dear Elena, you can't be insinuating that I'm up to something dastardly!"

"Well that's exactly what I'm insinuating. We're going to see Stefan in Goldfield! What's got that look on your face? The cat that ate the canary one, that you should trademark?"

He feigned insult. "I am a perfectly respectable, reformed man. As you should know, since you insisted that we become 'good people'. Bleh. But other than the occasional break-in for some of our favorite beverage, I am the picture of innocence."

She huffed. Okay, so he won't give up too easily. Maybe I should switch tactics?

"Could you pull over? I'd like to get out and run a little, stretch my legs a bit." She put on her pleading eyes, and she knew he was no match for it.

This time he sighed, but he looked at her in curiosity, no doubt wondering about her sudden change in mood.

When he pulled over near a large clump of cactuses, she took temporary leave from her plan to ask, "Where are we?"

"In the desert; you know, sand, cactus, snakes. It's the lovely allure of Nevada, Elena."

She rolled her eyes, before she re-posed her question. "No, I mean, what city are we close to? For some reason, I don't feel like we're heading in the right direction."

Damon silently cursed the vampires' uncanny sixth sense for location, but continued on under the premise of perfect innocence.

"A few hours away from Goldfield," he said, not quite lying.

When he turned his back to her to face the sun, slowly beginning its dissent down, she finished formulating the plan to get him to talk.

As an older, more experienced vampire, he should have been able to notice her approach from behind; in fact, he was alerted to her presence. But what he hadn't counted on was what she was actually doing. Then, just when he was going to spit some inane sexual comment, she had him pinned to the gravelly sand below.

His face was only amused, however, as she stared down at him. Well, more like glared.

Elena's entire plan hinged on the art of the surprise, and as his gaze turned one-part curious, another-part amused, she attacked.

Out of nowhere, she was leaning her head down beside him, her breath caressing his ear, and the easy-flowing moment turned charged, a palpable tension immediate. In the back of his thoughts, he was grateful that the times of this kind of tension were allowed. It still amazed him that he'd gotten the girl.

Damon remained lying still underneath her, resisting the urge to wind his arms around her. Within seconds of her leaning down, she was humming that song that she liked; the one she swore described him.

"You love me?" she whispered, questioned him.

Then she raised back up, and her face was passive, her eyes carefully guarded.

That's when he became suspicious. So he tucked those thoughts away and answered honestly. "Yes, always." It was a low voice that he knew sent shivers down her spine.

Unperturbed, she determined to ignore that voice, for once.

"Then tell me where we are going!" she ordered, her voice slightly hysterical sounding, but only because she was trying not to shag her boyfriend (soul mate, lover, whatever) senseless.

He couldn't help but laugh at her serious face, and he half wanted to admit that he'd been caught. But his plan was supposed to be keeping her in the dark. So to hopefully distract her even more, he used his strength to flip the situation, literally.

And then she was pinned beneath him this time, and she began to grow frustrated with him. "Damon!" she cried.

"Stop! I want to know! I can obviously tell now that you have something to hide. Come on, just give it up!"

But Damon only shook his head, and she tried not to notice the way his eyes shone in the desert light. Elena started to squirm beneath him, and for the life of him, it was all he could do this time not to shag her senseless.

She growled at him, albeit playfully, before pushing his chest up. Unable to make him budge, she huffed, somewhat defeated.

"Elena, Elena, Elena. What I may or may not be hiding is for me to know, and for you to possibly find out."

She rolled her eyes, and then suddenly thought of a new tactic.

Gazing into his eyes, she allowed the ever-present lust to show itself. His eyebrow quirked up at her sudden change in demeanor, internally guessing at what she was doing.

"Trying to distract me? Tsk, tsk. Bad, Elena."

Undaunted, she continued to stare at him. "Release my wrists and find out," she challenged him.

Damon paused at the idea. Surely this is some trick. And he wasn't dumb enough to fall for it… was he?

Slowly, testing her movements, Damon started to remove his hold on her wrists, bound to the sand. When a few seconds passed and she hadn't tried to flip him again or inflict bodily harm, he relaxed slightly, his knees still tightly clasping her waist.

She watched his face for a few moments, then slid her hand up his forearm and shoulder. She rested her palm on his left cheek for an enduringly long second, before finally making her way to the back of his neck, losing her fingers in his hair. She pulled him down to her, and he immediately knew what she wanted.

His lips found hers effortlessly, in the way that only practiced couples could achieve, his eyes sliding closed like a sacred habit.

When Elena bit his lip, Damon gasped slightly. I knew it! he thought as she pushed him up and slammed him against the car door.

"Tell me," she growled. "Or I will torture you slowly."

He nearly giggled at the sight of her- her eyes were wild with desire and determination, her hair askew with bits of sand, and her clothes were rumpled. But he had the good sense not to anger her further; all outbursts of amusement would have to wait. Elena bit her lip then, slowly, dangerously.

"Okay, how about a game?" he drawled, testing her reaction.

"What?" she said incredulously, her eyebrow quirked up, much in the same manner as he usually employed.

"A guessing game," he added, his smirk firmly cemented to his face.

She sighed, pushing his body closer to the car, her grip tighter than ever. "What do you mean?"

"If I give you one clue, you have three guesses. And I will tell if you are hot or cold. Then you have to get in that car, shut up, and let me drive you to where we are going."

Elena contemplated this; she knew he might be trying to trick her, throw her off the trail. But she was dangerously curious, and she had no choice. So before she could stop herself, she stepped back from him, fluidly releasing her hold, and nodding once.

"Wonderful," he said smugly, his eyes dancing in amusement.

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot for effect. "The clue?" she reminded him, after a long moment of his not-so-subtle triumphant grin.

"Right, right, little miss impatient." But damn, he was sexy when he leant against that car, his eyes practically ravishing my body.

No! Focus!

"Do you know where we are?" he asked her, his tone suggesting the clue was hidden in plain sight.

This again. "The desert." He shook his head, no. "The highway?" No, again.

"Nevada?" This time his grin indicated that this was right.

"Damon! That's not a good clue! This is a whole freaking state!"

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, leering at her. "And what's Nevada famous for?"

Then suddenly it dawned on her.

"No."

His grin was cocky, his eyes dancing again, and when he took her hand, she tried to shake it off as she groaned. "No! Damon! No!"

But he only laughed at her, pulling her around to her side of the car. He opened the door, bowing in a sweeping gesture. "A deal's a deal, after all."

Damn it.

When Damon finally started the car, he began humming Viva Las Vegas, and she knew without a doubt where they were headed now.

The two lovers danced and laughed, grasping at each other, running around the fountain. Dazzling colors and lights paraded around them, water shooting out and adding to the effect of magic. The man splashed the woman, and then they were both in a war, giggles and shouts of exclamation at the cold water. Each of them were content in this effortless game. All around them, street performers and drunk, happy people made shouts of noise; but this couple were only drunk on each other. Eventually, the man caught the girl's hand and kissed her deeply, and then twirled her in a dance of olden days. They were content, and happy with just each other, even in this city of searching for more. It was a contrast; and it was fresh and new. Everything that had led them to each other, down this road, had been worth it.

They had saved each other. It was beautiful.

The End