Okay yeah it took longer than I wanted, and it's a short chapter, so shoot me. I deserve it. But before you do, know that I have already written Chapter 8 so don't be too mean. Kay well this is short. Kind of a fillerish one I guess but until they have sex they're all filler chapters :)

"You owe me new panties."

Elena's reasoning for the note were as follows: Damon wants to tease her? She can tease him right back. He doesn't have the monopoly on sexual innuendo, and though it wasn't directly his fault, she felt like he deserved pay back for her dream. Plus, they did genuinely get a little wet. She was practically dry humping the hottest guy she's ever witnessed, so can you blame her? I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS FUNNY she yelled at her sense of humour, which was apparently failing her. Oh dear, Elena. You've really gone above and beyond to make this awkward, haven't you? Congrats. Have a slow-sarcastic-one-person applause. Clap. Clap. Fucking. Clap. She slumps down in a chair behind the important people on set and reflects on her shameful mind, dreading the moment Damon will walk through the door.

With her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees, she was the perfect picture for that person who made an absolute tit of themselves. Yeah, that just about sums it up. When she thought she couldn't feel any worse about herself, the sex goddess sits beside her. Confused, Elena glances at her, about to question her presence when Caroline talks first. "Damon's a dick," she says simply. Again with the unexpected. Elena wasn't used to people surprising her all the time. She can read them; she's good at that. But for some damn reason her brain hates her lately. Though the next thing out of that gorgeous mouth was infinitely more surprising.

"He shouldn't be bossing you around. You're not his P.A. It's rude. I swear, that guy thinks he's God's gift to Earth. I mean just because he's an amazing lay and he's just so *insert sex noise*, doesn't mean everyone is his personal play thing." More puzzled than ever, Elena questioned, "Mr Salvatore knows I don't work for him. Why would you think that?" The girls have turned to face each other completely now, engaged in conversation with both sets of brows furrowed with confusion.

"Well because he was expecting you with his coffee. I told him you shouldn't be made to get it for him." she explained.

"Expecting it? I don't think I understand, Miss Forbes."

"Caroline. Please, call me Caroline." she implored.

"Okay, I don't think I understand, Caroline."

"Well when I came to talk to him this morning about, you know, hooking up," Elena internally cringed, though she was unsure why, "He thought it was you when I knocked. But don't you worry your pretty little head; I put him straight. I told him 'You prick-fuck. You can't just push people around. I'm going to rip your fucking balls off and feed them to wolves. Mwuhahaha.'" Elena held her stare for a long time, before bursting out laughing, a good hard laugh, that began to hurt her stomach. "But you know, not quite as violent," Caroline spluttered between hysterical laughter and long, deep breaths. Elena decided that she liked Caroline. She wasn't just some slutty blonde. She was funny, sweet and just adorable. She'd defended Elena, unnecessarily, when she didn't even know her. She concluded that befriending Caroline would be a good and worthwhile distraction from that blue eyed demon.

Elena and Caroline continued to joke and giggle, the note completely wiped from her mind, until Damon walks in. Damn. I just can't catch a break, she whined to herself. It was inevitable though and judging from that smug ass grin on his face as he sauntered in, he'd read the fucking note.

"You owe me new panties."

Damon stood, open mouthed, in his small kitchen, clutching a post it note. She couldn't possibly mean what I think she means, right? He thought as he tried to process what she had written.

But oh, Miss Elena, he smirked, concluding that she was referencing that night. Oh Elena Elena Elena. I am sorry to have doubted you. Damon prides himself on being an excellent judge of character, and was more than disappointed when he thought she wasn't the hellfire she seemed to be. But first appearances prove true, it seems.

Elena has fire, burning bright behind those stunning brown eyes. Though they are deceptive as at first glance, they hold pure innocence and goodness. Perhaps she is both, but Damon is eager to find out and unleash more of her hidden passion.

Yes, that sounds loosely like a plan, he concluded to himself. And so it was that Damon decided not to stop until she was his, just once. A project would be good. It started formulating in his mind as he sat on his bed and put his shoes on:

Okay step one: be his natural charming, sexy self.

Step two: continue to tease her.

Step three: touch or make contact with her at all available moments

Step four: wait until her resolve cracks.

Simples.

Step one, two and three can be carried out simultaneously. He's very good at multitasking.

He'd also decided that he wasn't going to mention the note to her, but he was sure he wouldn't be able to /not/ be smug as hell when he sees her.

He was also imagining Elena in a wide range of lacy underwear that he would soon purchase for her. From deep reds to ocean blue, the image of her dressed in only them was enough to make his jeans uncomfortable. He'd get them after work (after that mental image he couldn't possibly deprive her any longer) Because you know, he's a giver.

So Damon makes his way onto set, managing to keep his face neutral and not skipping and whistling like he is on the inside. But then he gets inside and he can sense her, so naturally the biggest fucking smirk (he was holding back - he wanted to grin) plastered itself on his face. He didn't need to look at her to know she'd seen him - she could feel her eyes on him, scolding him, burning him.

And he loved it.

Okay so let me know what you think please because ooh I'm getting all self conscious and I just don't know ugh okay well it's awesome that it looks like people like it.

I'll update soon. Promise.