Hopefully this will be the only A/N, so pay attention.
1) The story is rated T, but some of the one-shots/drabbles may be rated M.
2) The oneshots will not be cornological; they will be 'sorted' by the age of their baby.
3) The way the Admin is removing stories with no warning, is draconian, and if it weren't for the fact that is the best site for fanfiction, I'd flip them the middle finger and never come back.
Summary; When Tyler joined the NFL, Damon couldn't be happier for him. If only he could be happy for himself.
Age 4
Damon said in the living room of his penthouse apartment, nursing a tumbler of Bourbon.
Tyler was out again.
With his team mates.
Sometimes Damon wondered if they even knew he existed. Existed as Tylers boyfriend, husband, that was. And for better or for worse, the mother of Tyler's daughter.
When Little Marion had been born, their lives had been like a bed of roses. Now Damon started to feel the thorns. She was asleep now, but not for long. Sleep was hard to come by for both of them when they weren't surrounded by Tyler's woody scent.
It had been a while since Tyler slept in their bed, so the scent was starting to disappear, even to Damons sensitive vampire nose. And Marions, apparently. She had taken to sleeping in their bed when Tyler was gone.
Needless to say Damon had gotten used to waking up with a head full of dark silky hair under his nose.
Three quarters vampire and a quarter werewolf, and the little girl had trouble finding her father's scent in his own bed. It pissed Damon off.
A part of him wanted to call a baby-sitter and go out and party until he forgot about it all. Stupid werewolf hybrids. But he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if his baby woke up alone.
So he sat there.
He sat there until dawn.
When the sun finally peeked over the skyline, his eyes were red and swollen from withholding his tears and his anger.
He turned towards the quiet sound of pitter-patters on the hardwood floors.
"Papa," Marion mumbled, teddy tight in her grasp. "Is it morning yet?"
Damon smiled sadly and put down his still half full glass of Bourbon. "Not yet honey. Let's go sleep," he said and picked her up.
"Are you upset, papa?" she asked, her voice sleepy and muffled.
"No, sunshine," he lied, "Papa, is just tired."
