February 14th, 2061

He can hear the little blonde at the bar from all the way across the room and he isn't even trying.

"Look, Damon," she is saying to him over the phone, "if you didn't want to come, you could have just said so a week ago when I asked—and don't even pretend you said 'yes' in the first place for any other reason than because Elena was in the room."

She motions to the bartender who walks over and pours her another shot, which she quickly drinks down before continuing. "I get it, okay? I know it's always going to be Elena with you, I accepted that thirty-six years ago—but have you accepted what she told you sixty years ago? You're not her first choice—for fuck's sake, you're not even her second. So why the hell are you blowing me off tonight of all nights to sit in your fancy apartment all alone drinking by yourself in the dark? And don't pretend you're not, I know your habits too well by now to believe otherwise. You're so fucking pathetic. You know what? I'm done. I'll see you tomorrow."

He raises an eyebrow and gets up from his seat, deciding to approach her.

Pam rolls her eyes. "What is it with you and troubled blondes?" she asks as he departs.

"Don't discount yourself from that list," he throws back at her lazily, deliberately keeping the memories of Sookie in the back of his mind. He really doesn't want to think about how she's spending this night.

He doesn't see his progeny's response, for his eyes are fixed on the girl at the bar.

He hears her deep intake of breath and the sigh that follows, and watches as she runs a hand through her hair before resting her elbow on the bar and her head in her hand.

Eric takes the seat next to her. "I'd wish you a happy Valentine's Day, but you don't seem to be celebrating," he says as he makes eye contact with her.

Her eyes are filled with a mixture of pain and jealousy as she responds. "My maker is a complete ass—a fact I am kicking myself for not having realized years ago."

"It is—easy…to overlook things when dealing with makers," he responds, thinking back on Godric.

She sits up and turns her barstool to face him, "It has been solong since I've had a nice Valentine's Day, and he promised to make this one special, but then…" she cuts off, her eyes downcast. "Even after all this time, it's still her—and she doesn't even want him."

For a moment, he wonders if she's still talking about her maker's situation, because the parallels are eerie.

"Well, I have no plans for the night," he starts, "I could make this night special for you…that is, if you wish."

For the first time, he sees her smile, and it makes him laugh just slightly. "Really?" she asks. "You'd do that for me?"

He nods. "We can have some real fun."

She practically jumps off her barstool now. "Okay," she says, looking around. "Where do you want to go?"

He casually stands up and leads her away.

As he does, he can distinctly hear Pam sigh. "Here we go again."