N: Ok…so, even since a good friend of mine (Rosesareforever) started her story 'Man on a Mission' this idea kind of came to life in my head, but I had other projects, so I waited until now to get it out.

Not much to say about it, this first chapter's mostly on Damon, hope you'll like it and the next chapter will be on Elena. It will be a ten up to fifteen chapters' story that you'll hopefully enjoy. This story's not about smut, but it is rated-M so there will be smut, please keep that in mind.

The first few chapter will be slow as we get to know the characters and let them get to know each other a bit, but later on expect angst, passion, crime, humor, drama and violence.

Thank you Valerie (2serendipity) for your quick beta work.

Observe and report

Damon placed his gun in the glove compartment and closed it with a loud 'click' as he let out a sigh. In his hand was a thin file. The words: 'target 24' were imprinted in bright red on the pale cover. Pulling out a small picture, he stared at it for a full ten minutes before dropping it back in the file-holder. She was a beautiful woman – really beautiful – too bad he would have to take away her freedom soon.

He pushed the dark Jimmy Choo glasses on top of his head and looked out of the window, watching her as she took a seat at a small table in the corner of the coffee shop. He watched as she turned on her laptop and started typing. Then he watched her as she wrote for five hours straight. In all this time, she ordered two – he guessed – coffees and something to eat – it looked like a sandwich from where he was sitting, or perhaps a bagel.

As soon as she started moving, Damon realized that he had not moved in over five hours and his feet felt numb. He cursed under his breath and tried stretching his legs within the tiny space of his Camaro. When he looked back, he saw her getting up and leaving the coffee shop without taking the laptop with her. Not a minute later, a man who had been sitting on the opposite side of the shop came and picked it up.

Following her with his eyes, he could not help but be impressed by her tininess. She looked so soft and delicate; he almost had a hard time believing that such a gentle creature could kill in cold blood. Of course, he knew better than to let himself be fooled by appearances. He used to work with lots of nice, beautiful, gentle women who were just as cruel as he was, if not more so. They were right by his side when the time came for fighting or even killing.

Rebekah had been by far the best female agent he had ever met. She'd been beautiful, sexy, smart and skilled…not only in the field, but in bed too. She had liked it hard, fast and violent, but Damon did not complain; he had enjoyed the ride while it lasted. After Rebekah, there had been Rose. Rose was different from Rebekah in many aspects. She was warm, calm and quite docile, and he had loved the contrast. He had even come to care for Rose. He had actually taken a week off – something that never happened – after she died. Imagine working with guns, hunting down criminals, chasing the most dangerous assassins in the world, to finally die of a spider bite! Now that was what Damon called irony. He had even been there when it happened. The fact that there had been nothing he could do, had driven him crazy… and sometimes still did. She had practically died in his arms and with his name on her lips. Then came Andie. The beautiful, tall, elegant Andie Starr. He had liked Andie in a 'care if she lived or died' way, but nothing more. He had learned his lesson a long time ago. Women were not creatures you got attached to, especially when they had a dangerous mind and an even more dangerous job. Women were beings you loved passionately for a few hours a day, but as soon as those hours were over, you simply moved on. Damon was a passionate man: he did not just 'have sex', 'hook up' or 'get laid'; no, Damon made love to every woman he had ever been with. He loved to spoil them, caress them, discover them…even after many years of experience, he was still amazed by them, by how different they all were.

'Love 'em and leave 'em,' that was his motto. Except for this one girl. One girl had managed to steal his heart and keep it, only to crush it and throw it away. It had happened a long time ago, but he still remembered it as if it was yesterday. Her name was Katherine Pierce. She had actually faked her own death, so she could take off with none other than his own dear brother. She had probably thought Damon would just mourn her death and move on, but Damon had always known when something fishy was going on. That was exactly why he was the best-paid agent on the team, and that was why the CIA had hired him in the first place. He had learned early on to always follow his instinct, and until this day, it had never failed him. Even if Katherine had been smart – maybe even as smart as he was – she had made one mistake: she had taken his brother's last name. It was stupid beyond belief, but ironically enough, she must have done it because she was really in love with his baby brother.

He had been twenty-one and she just nineteen when they met. She had just started working for the CIA as an assistant. He fell in love with her from the very first moment he laid eyes on her. Her platinum blonde hair, her big lapis lazuli eyes and her coral pink lips had hypnotised him. The perfect image of her still haunted his dreams sometimes. He had tried to forget and move on, but it had not been easy. She had been the first girl he had given his heart to, and he swore she would remain the last. One thing was for sure: he would never make that mistake again.

Memories of Katherine were taking over his mind. Some were good, some were bad, but they were all he had left. Those memories were the only thing keeping him sane…keeping him human. He had a dangerous job and he loved it, but the first thing you learned in this profession was to not get emotionally involved. Ever. Damon was no saint; he killed people on occasion, but those were mostly accidents or situations where he had no other option. Plus, they were bad people – at least that was his excuse. In this case, he was the good guy and Elena Gilbert was the bad guy. His job was to catch people like her, so that was what he would do. In spite of this, it was still hard for Damon to keep a grip on his humanity; sometimes he could feel it slowly slipping between his fingers and that scared him.

The plan was to stop one day, find a nice girl he liked, have two or three children, a big house and a dog. He wanted to reside in a nice, quiet neighbourhood where his children could play in the backyard. As cliché as it all sounded, even CIA agents wanted that. They all wanted a life, a normal, boring life. Damon loved his job, no doubt about it, but at one point, he dreamed about having nothing but normality and stability.

Damon Salvatore was now twenty eight. He had been spotted by the Agency when he was only fifteen, after he and his brother had lost their father to hepatocellular carcinoma*. They had recruited him three years later. At age eighteen, Damon had successfully completed his first mission, and three months later he made his first kill. It had been an accident and he had actually felt bad about it – for a while. Damon was not only smart and courageous, but also skilled and resourceful. He spoke five languages and seemed to excel at everything he did, which allowed him to quickly move onto the next level, until he got his own office, his own secretary, his own personal assistant and his own team.

He adored his work at the Agency. It gave him a purpose and his life meaning. Thanks to his job, he belonged somewhere; he had a mission. It was easy: observe the bad guy, collect proof, catch him in the act and last but not least, take him – well her in this case – into custody.

His new assignment was Elena Gilbert. Twenty-five year-old female: chocolate brown hair, big, doe brown eyes and the sweetest smile. The truth was that the calm, nice ones were the most dangerous, the ones you should run away from. Elena Gilbert's current job was rumoured to be paid assassin. Of course the Intelligence did not have any proof, which was why they sent him. If anyone was likely to get that proof, it was Damon Salvatore.

Damon parked his blue Chevrolet two streets away just to be sure. The last thing he wanted was to blow his cover. He had it all planned in his head. First, he had to observe her, learn everything there was to know about her: what she liked, what she did not like, who she liked and did not like. After making sure he knew everything about her and her habits, he would learn about her work and her colleagues. And last but not least, about her friends and family. From what he had read in the report Amy had prepared for him, she only had one younger brother who lived in California. Her parents had died in a car accident eight years ago. Of course Damon knew better than to believe everything written about a paid assassin. All the information could be false as far as he was concerned. Based on the lies and what he could discover of the truth by his observations, he would get to know her better than even her dear departed mother – may she rest in peace – had known her own daughter.

When the agency needed the best, they called him. In all modesty, Damon knew his own worth, but he also knew that no task is an easy task. They would not have called him and given him this mission if it was easy. But Damon liked a challenge; it was the best part of the job. The harder the mission, they better he felt once it was completed.

"Excuse me, sir, can I get you anything?" the young girl asked and Damon shook his head before turning his attention to the intruder.

"Uh…" he was a bit confused. What was this girl doing knocking on his window? He soon realized that the girl had mot knocked, the window was rolled down and he was actually in the line to McDonald's drive-in. He flashed his signature smirk and he could practically feel the young girl's eyes brighten. "I'll have a large coffee, black, no sugar and one blueberry muffin." He almost forgot he pulled there for a fresh cup of coffee.

"That will be 4$28," she announced and Damon just handed her a ten dollar bill. When the girl wanted to return him the change, he refused. She came back two minutes later with his order. Damon thanked her with a smile and drove away.

***Target: Love***

Damon had been following 'target 24' around for almost two weeks. He had even tracked down her childhood friends and her first boyfriend. He knew everything there was to know about her, her friends and her family. As the report said, she did have a brother, but she only talked to him once a week or so. She also had a best friend, a girl named Caroline Forbes, who was engaged to the famous football player Tyler Lockwood. He had also seen her out with the owner of one of the most expensive clubs in LA: Matt Donovan. For an assassin, she sure kept an interesting circle of friends. Damon also knew she and Matt had been dating back in their high school days, but they had been friends since their break up in senior year. After Matt, and with the exception of two or three guys that did not last more than a few weeks, she seemed to have no intention of settling down in some kind of 'serious relationship'.

He put down her file – it was now heavy and detailed, just the way he liked it. As long as he had the information, and assuming most of it was correct – which it was since he had personally checked – that meant that he had the upper hand.

Deciding it was time to make his move, he arranged his tie and got out of the fancy car, handing the key to the teenager that had been watching him for the past five minutes.

"Thank you," he said and the boy smiled, taking the keys.

The club was packed, but it did not take him more than a few seconds to spot her at the bar. He had to admit that she looked absolutely beautiful in an ivory strapless dress that was short enough to show off her legs, but long enough to be tasteful. Her hair was now in soft curls all over her back and shoulders, and her silver sandals complimented her olive skin.

'It will be a pleasure getting to know her,' Damon thought.

He waited for her to buy the drinks while he moved to the left side of the bar. When she turned around, he started walking towards her casually. Just when he was an inch away, he waved his hand, knocking down her drinks.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he whispered as he pulled an immaculate white handkerchief from his pocket to help her clean her hands and arms.

"It's ok, I…" she stopped as soon as her eyes met his. He knew this part was coming; he was even hoping it would, but still he wasn't ready for it. He was not ready for the intensity and the flame that was burning in her eyes; he was not ready for the electric shock that passed through his entire body once her soft hand made contact with his; he was not ready for the smile that was on her angelic face and he was clearly not ready for the effect her voice had on him.

She pulled her hand back and Damon regained control of his emotions.

"No, really, it was my fault; I wasn't watching where I was going. The least I can do is buy you another set of drinks," he offered.

*- liver cancer

N: Si that was the first chapter, please don't hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. Don't forget to drop a review if you enjoyed it – it's the only way you can let me know you did so.