AN: I finally got around to finishing the first chapter of this three-shot and, in light of the recent TVD Drama, I decided to post it now, isntead of waiting. I hope this little fic of mine will, at least, make you smile ;)
As I announced in Hunter and Prey, this is sort of a sequel to my first fic Game On. Now, you DON'T need to read Game On to read this fic as they are not really connected. The only thing you need to know, is what happened in the Epilogue of Game On. If you want to go and read it, be my guest. Otherwise, here is a little summary: Damon and Elena got married five years after Season 6 (I started writing that fic last year in August so it's a complete AU) and I briefly mentioned how they had been discussing about possibly adopting a baby. I suggest you keep in mind that last bit while reading this fic, because that's were the idea for this three-shot came out of.
As for Elena's age, TVD timeline is essentially an obscenity. I still don't know in what year they are now on the show. If Elena is at the second year of college than, I think, she should be 19-20 years old. She got married five years after Season 6 (so she was 24-25) and this story takes place 1 year after that. So, if I'm right, Elena is 25-26 years old in this fic.
Before leaving you to this chapter, I need to tell you that I have no idea when I will post the other two chapters as I'm focusing on finishing Hunters and Prey.
Last thing (I swear), this entire little story is dedicated to a dear friend of mine Short on words. We became friends through this site and I thought 'what better way to express my gratitude toward her than with a story?'. Charlotte, I hope that when you read this, you'll at least smile if not laugh. I know it's not much but, hopefully, this story will be a reason to smile whenever you need it ;)
Enjoy!
It's a Furry Affair
Birth
[Nice To Meet You]
Something was going on with Damon. For the past week, Elena had been watching him behave in what he probably thought was a subtle way. Damon still didn't understand that subtlety was not one of his strongest points. She had lost count of all the times he had tried to surprise her and, while he was quite good when it came to keeping a secret, she'd always noticed when he was trying to prepare something for her.
It had all started a week before when he came back after a night out with Alaric and Enzo. Elena had already been in bed, watching some TV while she waited for Damon to come home. When she heard the front door opening, she expected to hear him shout his usual 'honey, I'm home!'. He had started doing that when the two of them had finally got married a year before. At first, she had laughed it off as one of his many sarcastic quips, but now she loved to hear it. It was so domestic.
That night however, he didn't say it. She heard the door being closed and his footsteps coming up the stairs. She wondered if he had had an argument with his two drinking buddies, and was now in a sour mood. However, he didn't walk in the direction of their shared bedroom choosing, instead, to go toward the other wing of the mansion, the one seldom used. In that wing there were many empty rooms that almost never got used. The only reason they were even habitable, was that Damon's OCD tendencies forced him to erase every trace of dust in the Boarding House.
She heard him open a door and close it behind him. Elena had no idea what he'd want to do in that part of the house. When she focused her vampire hearing, trying to catch some sort of noise that could clue her in as to what he was doing, she heard nothing. After ten minutes, she heard the door opening once again. She thought that Damon was finally going to join her; instead, he went downstairs. After a couple of minutes, he came back up and, once again, entered the room. Elena frowned, perplexed by his behavior. What was he doing? Half an hour later, he finally entered their bedroom. He stopped on the threshold, startled by her eyes fixed on him.
"Uh!" The exclamation slipped past his lips. "I thought you were going to be asleep," he moved his weight from one leg to the other, his hand still clasped around the door handle.
Elena leaned on her elbow, watching him with eyes dripping curiosity, "What were you doing?" she asked him directly.
Damon closed the door and moved to his closet to change. He slipped his leather jacket off, setting it on a hanger. Next came his black button-down shirt, exposing his white tantalizing skin. If he thought that he could distract her just by showing off his physique, he was wrong. Although, she had to admit that it had worked a couple of times. When he took off his black jeans and his combat boots, she seriously considered letting the matter go and take him up on his offer. She had no doubt that he was doing it on purpose. She saw the glances he threw her way, judging how strong her will power was. Elena steeled herself, not wanting him to win. When he saw the resolution in her eyes, he sighed and put on some black silk pants.
He slowly walked toward their bed, hoping to gain some time. Elena raised an eyebrow and lifted the sheets, inviting him into bed. He slipped under the covers and settled down on his side, facing her. She imitated him, slightly nodding at him to let him know that she wanted him to answer her question.
"It was nothing, really," he said, moving a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I'm just working on something."
"And what's this something?" she wanted to know.
"I can't tell you now," he said, leaning closer to kiss her.
Elena wanted to ask him some other questions, but the way he kissed her was way too good to pass up. Throughout all that week, Damon disappeared inside of that room for hours at a time, reappearing with a content smile some time later. Elena, wanting to respect his privacy, opted against storming the room to see what he was hiding inside of it. She had to admit, though, that all this mystery left her in a state of perpetual curiosity.
After a week like that, Elena decided that if Damon didn't want to tell her what he was doing, she would simply have to investigate and find it out by herself.
~.~. ~.~
Elena parked the Camaro – she had convinced Damon to lend it to her – in the Boarding House's driveway. She leaned back, grabbing the two paper bags full of much needed food, and then stepped out of the car. When she reached the front door, she moved the bags around, trying to hold them with only one arm while she rummaged through her purse, precariously balanced on her raised knee, for her keys.
"Ah!" she exclaimed triumphantly when she finally caught them.
She pushed the door open with her hip and entered, catching the door with her foot and closing it with a resounding slam. She grimaced at the loud noise but figured that, since she had both her hands occupied and she was alone in the house, she could be excused for once. She quickly walked toward the kitchen, depositing the two paper bags on the counter top just to the right of the kitchen's door. She sighed, satisfied by her balancing performance, and went to put down her purse. When she came back, she quickly pushed back the tendrils of hair that had escaped her messy bun before starting to put everything in its right place.
She had just emptied the first paper bag, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She frowned. Damon was never home in the afternoon, especially when he knew she had work at the hospital. He said he didn't like loitering around in her absence, always finding himself something to do. She turned toward the door, his footsteps telling her that he was coming her way. Sure enough, he stepped in not five minutes later. When he saw her, he immediately smiled coming up to her to kiss her tenderly.
"Hey," he greeted her when they separated. "I heard the door slamming and thought I'd come down to see what happened."
"Yeah, I had my hands full so I just kicked the door closed," she said, leaning forward over the counter to let him pass behind her.
"If I knew you'd be back this early, I would have come down to give you a hand," while answering her, he started rummaging in the other paper bag, dividing the food in different types so he could then put everything away.
Elena turned toward him with a raised eyebrow, "It's already six, Damon."
He stopped his movements, his arms buried inside the bag, and turned toward her with a surprised expression, "Are you serious?" he asked her in a disbelieving tone. "I guess time really flies when you have fun," he finished his sentence with a shrug.
Elena simply stared at him. Had he been in his room again? What was he doing up there that he didn't even notice time passing by? She was really reaching the end of her rope. She needed to know what he was hiding, her curiosity needed to be satiated. She knew that, otherwise, she would spend every waking moment conjuring up thousands of different scenarios to explain Damon's behavior.
She looked at him surreptitiously, deciding that it was time for a direct approach. "Are you planning a surprise for me?" she said out of the blue.
Damon turned to look at her, his arm full of the cans he had been about to put away. He had been caught off guard and now he had no idea what to say. His mouth opened and closed reminding Elena of the goldfish her father had bought her when she was six. She would stare at it in its little bowl and he would look back at her, his mouth opening and closing rhythmically. Right then, Damon's mouth closed with a soft pop. Yep, just like a goldfish.
"Uh..." was the only sound coming from Damon's mouth.
Elena raised an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over her chest and foot tapping the floor. If he thought that she would let the matter go, he was horribly wrong. She'd asked a question, now she wanted an answer.
"What makes you think I'm planning anything?" tried Damon, hoping to gain some time.
"Are you seriously asking me that?" retorted Elena, causing him to look down sheepishly.
He turned and focused on putting away the cans, one at a time, in the right cabinets. Meanwhile, his mind raced in search of a possible answer to give Elena. He could feel her eyes burning a hole through him. He was pretty sure that, if she concentrated a bit more, she could probably set him on fire with the intensity of her eyes. When he finished his task, he turned toward her one more time. He clasped his hands, not even slightly surprised by his clammy palms.
"I give up," he started, licking his lips. "I wanted it to be a surprise but, you got me!" he released a nervous laugh.
Elena did not believe him for a second. Did he really think she would buy what he was selling her? He had to be smarter than that.
"Are you sure that's what you're doing up there?" she asked, giving him a chance to rethink his strategy.
"Yep," he said nodding his head. "I was hoping I could keep this from you but you're way too smart for that."
"And what is this surprise?" she further inquired, advancing on him.
Damon tried to steel himself, "You already know that I'm planning a surprise for you, can you at least let me the pleasure of seeing your stupefied face when you finally discover what it is?"
So he wasn't going to give in. Elena decided to let him off the hook, for the moment. She pressed herself against him and, standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the lips, her arms encircling his neck. Damon's hands automatically raised to clasp her hips, a gesture he always did when they kissed.
"I can't wait to see what this surprise is," she stated against his lips when they separated.
She left him there, going back to storing away their groceries. Damon, after a moment, went back to helping her, glad he had escaped her interrogation. For now.
~.~. ~.~
From the moment Elena woke up, she knew the day was going to be different from the others. When she had woken up, she had immediately noticed how Damon's side of the bed was, not only empty, but perfectly made; the sheets so incredibly smooth that she had the impression of being on one of those beds from the IKEA catalogs. She mentally prayed to God that the day was not going to be what she feared it would.
She had stepped out of bed and made her side, carefully smoothing the covers to make them a perfect mirror of the other side. Prayers were all well and good, but she needed to be prepared in case her worst fears were about to become a reality. Once she had stepped foot in the bathroom to wash her teeth, her head had fallen back and a groan had escaped her mouth. Absolute order reigned in there; every single object perfectly positioned nothing out of place. Yep, today is going to be hell, she had thought wondering if she could somehow escape what was sure to happen.
She had dragged herself to the shining sink – Damon had evidently already cleaned it while she was sleeping – and had grabbed her toothbrush. She had washed her teeth mindful of not staining either the mirror or the white surface of the sink. Once she had finished her morning ablutions, she had left the bathroom to get dressed. Before going downstairs, she had mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. When she had felt as prepared as she could be, she had walked out of the room to join her husband.
In the six years they had been together, Elena had discovered lots of Damon's quirks and he hers. Some of his habits were endearing, like how he enjoyed gardening – something Elena herself had found herself participating in –, or how he collected classic movies he then enjoyed sharing with her. Other quirks were a bit more annoying, but she could live with them after all, no one was perfect.
If there was one thing, however, that she downright dreaded, it was Cleaning Day. During their time together, she had quickly found out that, once a year, Damon liked to thoroughly clean every square inch of the Boarding House or whatever place he found himself living in. She didn't know where this habit of his came from, nor had she discovered which pattern he liked to follow. It was always a different day of a different month and, as much as she had observed him, she had not found out if there was some kind of trigger that set him off on his cleaning spree. To that day, she had not found a way to predict on which day Cleaning Day would fall.
Knowing what she knew, it wasn't a surprise when she entered the kitchen, only to find him neatly lining his cleaning supplies on the counter. She managed to contain her grimace at the sight of the two pairs of yellow rubber gloves by his side. He would not let her run away. She walked to the coffee machine, setting on making herself a steaming cup of black stimulant. If she was to help Damon in his OCD induced madness, she needed to fill herself up with coffee.
"So, I think we should clean the parlor first," started Damon once he had all his cleaning supplies out. "I will think about the carpets, you will worry about the hearth, okay? Then, we'll team up and scrub the floors," he turned toward her with expectant eyes.
"Okay," she mumbled, her lips already pressed against her steaming cup.
"Don't be such a killjoy, Elena. With vampire speed, we'll be done before the fun even starts," he told her with a giddy smile.
Elena refrained from commenting on his words. If he thought this was fun, then it meant that there was something wrong about him. She still couldn't understand how a man like him, always out having fun – real fun –, always enjoying life in all its hedonistic sides, could transform so completely in a night. It was as if he was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. OCD.
Deciding that the sooner they started the sooner they were going to finish, Elena grabbed the bucket with the brushes of various sizes in it that Damon had placed on the table. With heavy feet, she forced herself to walk to the fireplace in the parlor. Once there, she knelt down and, hiked the sleeves of her shirt, she set to work. Damon was so going to accompany on her next shopping spree after all this. She started rubbing energetically; she knew how Damon felt about a job half-done. Behind her, she heard her husband happily whistling a tune while he cleaned his beloved Persian rugs.
Cleaning the first floor took them all morning. Damon allowed her a ten-minute break to drink a cup of blood and stretch her muscles. After that, they climbed up the stairs and tackled the second floor. She couldn't believe how many rooms there were in the Boarding House, especially since they barely used half of them. Elena's head jumped up, an idea forming in her mind. She looked around, checking where her husband was. When she didn't see him, she immediately jumped into action. With silent steps, she approached The Room. She was about to touch the door handle when Damon's voice stopped her.
"Oh don't worry about that room, honey," he said, resting his hand atop hers. "I've already cleaned it."
Elena raised her eyes to look at him, a dubious expression etched on her face, "I thought you were cleaning the other side of the house."
"Yeah, I finished early," he told her with a sheepish smile. "I wanted to help you so I started cleaning some of your rooms."
She was sure he was lying again, but she had no proof to shove in his face. He must really want to keep, whatever it was he was hiding, a secret from her. She tried to turn the door-handle but his hand gripped hers tighter, stopping her movements. His smile never faltered. She let the door-handle go, eyes still locked on his. With a sweet smile of her own, she took a step back and went back to her work, leaving him to guard his precious room.
She had the feeling that that room was going to be death of her.
~.~. ~.~
That was it. After three weeks without any progress in her investigation, Elena was on the verge of giving up. The thought of what he could possibly be hiding in that room, haunted her day and night. The only moment in which she did not think about The Room, was when she was at work. Being a doctor required her whole attention, leaving her mind with no time to dwell on other things. Unfortunately, when she reached the end of her shift and got to leave work, she would immediately go back to Damon and his secrets.
She heaved a deep sigh, the heels of her hands rubbing her tired eyes. She was half-an-hour away from finishing her eight-hour shift. It had been a slow day, spent for the most part catching up on paperwork. She hated days like that, even though it was not a bad thing to have less patients. At least for them.
"Rough day?" asked a woman's voice.
Elena turned to look over the backrest of the sofa where she was half laying. The previously empty rec room was now welcoming a new addition, Renée. Renée was one of the nurses at the hospital. At the young age of twenty-eight, she was the head nurse, and was extraordinarily good at her job. Elena thought that she was as good as, if not better, than most doctors in that place were. She had once asked her why she didn't try to get a job as doctor and Renée, with her usual composure, had told her that she liked her job and she was good at it, so why change it?
"You can say that out loud," Elena answered, smiling gratefully when Renée handed her a cup of coffee.
"I'd say it's normal to have a rough day, but you've been having a rough month, chica," pointed out the Latina.
"Is it so obvious?" Elena grimaced at the thought.
Renée shrugged her shoulders, "You hide it well but you and I have roughly the same shifts so, I notice this sort of things."
The brunette vampire accepted the cup of steaming coffee being handed to her, with a smile of gratitude. Although what she needed now was a blood bag, she had no intention of giving up caffeine. She was going to need it if she wanted to avoid falling asleep on her feet. She took a sip of the dark brown liquid, sighing in pleasure when she felt it warm up every inch of her body. She was grateful for the fact that being a vampire had not changed her taste in beverages, except for...you know, blood.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Renée asked her, taking a seat next to her on the small blue couch.
Elena kept sipping her coffee, debating on what to tell her. "It's my husband," she ended up saying.
"Ah," the nurse breathed. "And what is wrong with Mr. Salvatore?" she moved her eyebrows up and down, nudging Elena with her elbow.
The other woman hid her smile behind her cup, mentally shaking her head at Renée's suggestive tone. Both Damon and Elena had quickly found out that Renée had had a crush on the raven-haired vampire since the first time she saw him. It was Elena's first day of work at the hospital, and Damon had thought it nice to go pick her up. Renée had almost cried at the sight of the handsome man catching their new young doctor in his arms, kissing her as if the two of them were alone. When the nurse and Elena had become friends, the vampire wasted no chance of teasing Renee for the crush she had for her man.
"He's hiding something from me," Elena confided in Renée. "I don't know exactly what, but I'm sure he's hiding something. He says he's preparing a surprise for me but I don't buy it."
Renée sat down beside her on the couch, her left arm slung over the backrest, "Talk to me, girl. What is your man up to?"
Elena told her everything that had happened in the last month. She talked about Damon's weird behavior, about his sneaking around in their own house and his refusal in telling her what he was planning. Renée listened patiently, nodding her head every once in a while to show her friend she was listening. She let Elena vent her frustration, never interrupting her but asking her for clarifications when the she thought the young doctor could use it to talk some more. When Elena finally stopped talking, the nurse smiled noticing how her friend seemed more relaxed.
"You know, Elena," she said, taking a sip from her cup of coffee. "If I didn't know that Damon is actually a grown man, I would say he's behaving like my son."
"How so?" Elena asked, curling her leg beneath her on the couch.
"Well, you say he's secretive and he sneaks around trying to hide something from you?" Elena nodded. "That's the exact same thing Chris does when he's done something he knows I won't like, and he wants to hide it."
Elena frowned, mulling over Renée's words. Could Damon have done something she wouldn't like? Off the top of her head, she couldn't think of anything. Her husband had behaved exemplarily for the last six years. Yes, occasionally he had a bit of a fall out but nothing major had ever happened. A beeping sound coming off her pager told her she was needed elsewhere. Elena stood up with a sigh, thanked Renee for her patience and left the rec room. Renée's words kept haunting her for the rest of the day.
~.~. ~.~
"You've all been invited here for a precise reason."
Elena's eyes moved over the faces of the ones sitting in front of her in a booth at the Mystic Grill. After her conversation with Renée, she had decided to call her friends and ask for their help. Stefan, Caroline, Alaric, Enzo and Bonnie were now waiting for her to explain to them why they had been summoned. Elena had chosen them for a simple reason: they were her closest friends and, most importantly, Damon's closest friends. Moreover, Stefan was his brother so maybe he could shed some light on her husband's behavior.
"The reason for this impromptu war-council is Damon," she said, the fingers of her hands joined in front of her.
Caroline heaved a deep sigh, "What has he done now?"
"Nothing as far as I know," Elena reassured her quickly. "He has been behaving strangely for the past month, though."
Stefan frowned, interested in his sister-in-law's words, "What do you mean 'strangely'?"
Elena joined her hands together in her lap, staring sheepishly at Stefan, "I mean," she drew out. "He's started holing up in one of the unused bedrooms in the Boarding House, sometimes he stays in there for hours on end and when he comes out, he's sort of relaxed and maybe proud of himself? Like he's accomplished something."
Stefan's eyebrows rose to meet his hairline, "Well, that's certainly weird."
"Have you tried sneaking into the room to find out what he's doing in there?" Bonnie intervened, hoping to be of any help to her friend.
Elena sighed heavily, slumping back into her chair, "Yes, I tried," she said. "It never works. Every time I'm close to opening the door of that room, he comes out of nowhere and stops me with some weird excuse."
There was a moment of silence around the table. The group exchanged glances around, each of them at a loss on what to do. Elena was clearly fed-up with Damon and wanted their help, but they had no idea what they could possibly do that would solve her problem. It didn't sound like Damon was doing anything bad, but it was suspicious the way he excluded his wife from what was going on in that room.
Alaric cleared his throat making Elena's eyes jump to him, hope springing in them, "Why exactly did you call us here, Elena?" he asked.
Elena shrugged her shoulders, "I wanted to know if any of you noticed anything weird in Damon. Like, maybe he's done something he doesn't want me to find out? Maybe he knows I'll get angry when I discover what he's doing and he wants to hide it," she explained, looking around at her friends. "You know, these sort of things."
Alaric glanced around at the others, searching for any sign that they knew anything on Damon. As far as he knew, his drinking-buddy hadn't done anything wrong for several years. The expressions on the others' faces let him know that they were probably thinking the exact same thing.
He looked at Elena who was waiting for someone to speak, "I'm sorry, Elena," he said. "I don't think Damon has done anything wrong that he'd want to hide from you," he told her honestly.
There was a general murmur of agreement coming from the other occupants of the table.
Elena's shoulders sagged before she turned toward Enzo, the only one who had not said a word, "Do you know anything, Enzo?" she asked him.
Enzo raised an eyebrow, "Why would I know anything? While I do spend time with him, it's not like we go around murdering people," he said with a sarcastic smile. When Caroline looked pointedly at him he added, "Anymore."
"What about a month ago?" she asked, this time looking at both Enzo and Alaric. "He started behaving strangely after he came back from an outing with you two. Did something happen that would make him behave like that?" it was her last resort.
The two vampires exchanged a look, identical pensive looks marring their features. They tried to remember that night, a month ago, in which they had been drinking with Damon. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but both of them were fairly certain that nothing unusual had happened that day.
"I don't think anything happened," Enzo spoke up.
"Yeah," Alaric agreed. "We drank some bourbon for a while, then we played pool and I think a game of dart," he looked at Enzo, receiving a nod in response.
"We went our separate ways after that," the British vampire continued.
Elena nodded, dejected. This was it. She officially had no idea what to do. If he friends didn't know what Damon was doing, then she had used all her options. She huffed, irritated and tired of the whole thing. What the hell was Damon doing? And why couldn't he simply tell her? They were married after all; she had a right to know everything he was doing. She started to collect her things, ready to go home.
"Maybe you could try simply asking him what he's doing." Bonnie suggested with an unsure expression.
Elena had already tried that more than once. It's safe to say that she'd never received a direct answer. "I guess trying one more time can't hurt, right?" she said, looking at Bonnie with tired eyes.
Elena rose to her feet and thanked her friends for their help, even if they had not find a solution to her problem. She shrugged her jacket on and turned to leave the Grill, her mind already thinking about the fact that she was probably going to find Damon in his room.
"Let us know how things work out!" Stefan's voice reached her right when she opened the door to exit.
Without turning toward him, Elena raised her arm to let him know she'd heard him. With that last salute, she opened the door and started to walk toward the Boarding House.
~.~. ~.~
Elena turned the key in the lock and walked inside the Boarding House. She dropped her keys in a bowl near the door and listened to the sounds of the house, searching for Damon. Just like she'd thought, he was inside that damned room. Suddenly, she could feel anger rise up inside her. She was sick and tired of his secret. This thing was ending tonight.
She threw her bag to the ground with a resounding thud. Next was her jacket, unceremoniously thrown somewhere on the floor. Elena clenched her hands into fist and, seeing red from the fury bubbling deep inside her, she marched toward the second floor. She walked up the stairs, her feet stomping loudly on the wooden steps. Damon had probably already heard her, but she really couldn't care less. She was walking into that room, if it was the last thing she did.
She stopped in front of the wooden door that had tormented her for the last month, her hand already gripping the handle when she heard Damon's voice coming from inside. Apparently, he was so focused on whatever he was doing, that he hadn't even heard her approaching. Elena pressed her hear against the door and focused.
"There you go, sweetheart," she heard Damon say in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Lick it all up, it does you nothing but good," he cooed.
Elena leaned back and stared at the door, horrified. What the hell was happening inside that room? Who was Damon talking to in that way? She heard a deep, throaty chuckle coming from the other side of the door. Elena recognized it for the sound Damon always made when she accidentally skimmed over his stomach with her nails, tickling him in the throes of passion. Now she'd had enough. In a sudden movement, she twisted the handle and pushed the door open, tacking into the room.
Elena needed a moment to understand what she was seeing. The room she was now in appeared to be a living room. The center of the room was dominated by a beautiful black couch shaped like a U resting over one of Damon's prized Persian rugs. On the wall on her left, there was a flat TV screen perfect for watching movies, while the right side of the room was made of a series of floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the garden. She could see bookcases filled ancient looking books toward the other side of the room.
What caught her attention, however, was the sight right in front of her. Damon was laying on his back on top of the couch, his right arm dangling down over the edge. Down on the floor – around a plate filled with what Elena assumed was milk – were three balls of fur all focused on lapping up the white liquid. Elena stared at the three cats – two tabby ones and a red one – not fully understanding the situation. When her eyes moved to a wide-eyed Damon, she understood what had made him chuckle in that sexy way of his; a black cat with bright blue eyes, was currently sitting on his stomach and was 'massaging' his belly with its paws.
Elena opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Of all the things she could have imagined happening in this room, Damon taking care of four kittens was the last one. She brought a hand to her elbow and pinched it, trying to discern if she was dreaming or something. The slight pain she felt, however, was all too real. Damon kept watching her with wide eyes. He was as still as a statue except for a little twitch here and there, when the black cat tickled his stomach. Elena noticed how his cheek started turning red under her scrutiny.
"Kittens?" she asked, barely capable of letting out that word. "This is what you've been doing all this time?"
Her husband remained silent. He opened his mouth a couple of times, no doubt to justify his behavior, but no sound came out of it; the only thing he managed to do, was looking like a fish out of water. The three little kittens, in the meantime, had finished their milk and were now observing the newcomer. With a little sigh, Elena walked over to the kittens and sat down on the rug, reaching out with her hands to let the little balls of fur lick her fingers.
While she started caressing the kittens, she looked at Damon, "I think you need to explain this whole thing to me."
And so he did.
A Month Ago…
Damon waved goodbye to Alaric and Enzo, turning to walk toward his car. The cool air of the night was exactly what he needed after a night out, drinking with his buddies. While they were vampires and alcohol did not affect them like it did humans, he relished the opportunity to sober up quickly before going home. He had no intention of presenting himself in front of Elena drunk as a skunk. Not that he was, mind you. But still…
He took a deep breath, the cool air burning slightly in his lungs, while he walked slowly toward his Camaro. He passed by a dark alley by the side of the Grill and that's when he heard it. A soft whimper. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head toward the dark street. His improved sight told him that there was no one in the alley, however, he could still hear that soft whimpering noise. He walked along the dark street, letting his ears guide him.
He stopped by the trash-cans near the backdoor of the Grill and looked down. Now, he had a certain reputation in this town. Those who knew him personally, knew that he was a big bad vampire always ready for a fight; scared of nothing and no one. Those who only knew him from a distance, could still perceive that vague air of danger coming from him. They watched his as one might watch a tiger; awed by his grace and strength but mindful of the fact that he could strike when one less expected it.
Damon was well aware of this, obviously, but the sight in front of him made his dead heart clench in his chest. At his feet, there was a scrawny tabby cat, its fur matted and standing up in odd places. Upon closer inspection, he realized 'it' was actually a 'she' as her swollen belly clearly stated. When he focused his hearing, Damon heard four rapid heartbeats inside her. By the looks of things, she was about to give birth to her kittens.
Damon knelt down and caressed her head, showing her he meant no harm. The cat continued in her whimpers. She looked weak and malnourished, not the best conditions to go into labor. As much as Damon knew this could potentially ruin the badass image he had carefully built around himself, he already knew what he had to do. He looked around, making sure no one was around to see what he was about to do.
When he was sure he and the cat were alone, he lowered the zip of his leather jacket to his stomach. He scooped up the cat – she hissed weakly at him – and placed her inside his jacket, mindful of her belly. He closed up his jacket, leaving enough space for the cat to breathe and to let her stay warm against his body.
"Now, don't you tell this to anyone, okay?" he warned the cat. A barely audible mewl reached his ears, "That's a good girl," he whispered, rising to his feet.
He walked up to his car and got inside, immediately firing up the engine. While he drove home, he kept stealing glanced at the cat inside his jacket. She moved around every once in a while, no doubt searching for a more comfortable position.
"Don't even think about going into labor right now," he told her. "This jacket cost me a fortune," he grumbled to himself lowering his free hand inside his jacket and getting a rough lick of his fingertips in return.
Once he got home, he opened the door quietly. He remained immobile for a moment, trying to detect if Elena was asleep or not. When he heard nothing but complete silence, he sneaked inside and walked up the stairs. While on the road, he'd thought about a suitable place for the cat and immediately came up with one of the unused rooms in the Boarding House.
He took the cat into the room farthest from his – maybe Elena wouldn't notice this way – and carefully set the cat down onto the sofa. He saw an old quilt lying around and, after shacking it to remove the dust accumulated on it, he used it to prepare a sort of makeshift bed near the cat. The, always as careful as he could, he laid the cat over it.
Once his preparations were finished, he started to caress her, combing her fur and patting it down. She would undoubtedly need some time to get back on her paws, but he was sure she could do it. He smiled a little, amazed, when he felt movements beneath his palm when he rested his hand on her belly. Maybe she wouldn't get into labor that night, but it was clear that the kittens were eager to come out into the world.
"I will find you something to eat," he told the cat, receiving a happy purr in return. "Maybe even something against flees, I wouldn't want you bringing those little pests inside," he said to himself, eyeing her unruly fur.
Before joining Elena in their bedroom, he flashed downstairs to the kitchen. To his relief, they actually had some milk. He took a plate out of the cabinet and flashed back upstairs. He set the plate next to the cat and poured some milk in it.
"I know it's not much," he told her. "I will find something better tomorrow."
As he watched the cat lick the milk, he couldn't help but imagine everyone's reaction if they were to find him talking to a cat. He bet they would surely make fun of him, never letting him forget the moment in which the 'big badass vampire' revealed his true colors. He pushed away those thoughts, promising himself that no one, not even Elena, would ever find out about his secret.
"And then, well," Damon gestured toward the kittens. "This happened."
Elena smiled sweetly at him, amused by his embarrassed expression. It was rare for her to see him so embarrassed, mostly because he had lived through so many experiences that there was virtually nothing he was ashamed of. Most of the times, she was the one feeling like a little girl compared to him. It was refreshing witnessing his moment of red-cheeks, eyes-lowered and sheepish-smiles.
"Where is the cat now?" she asked, wanting to ease his discomfort.
"Mama Cat comes and goes when she wants. She knows the kittens are safe here," he told with a small shrug of his shoulders.
"Mama Cat?" she giggled, running her hand through her husband's soft hair.
"Well, I had to give her a name," Damon defended himself.
Elena nodded with a serious expression, "Of course you had to," she told him. He glared at her, something that made her chuckle, "Did you also name them?" she nodded to the kittens around them.
Damon looked at her from the corner of his eye, "Maybe," he mumbled.
Elena leaned down to kiss him on the lips, "Would you tell me?"
Damon heaved a sigh, there's no way he could deny her anything. He sat up, the little black kitten on his stomach protesting when he slid down. Damon picked him up and showed him to Elena, "This one is Camaro," he said.
"Camaro?" she repeated, an incredulous laugh escaping her lips.
Damon nodded, unfazed by her reaction, "He is the most adventurous one," he said. At her nod, he picked up another cat, the red one this time, "This is Bourbon. Before you ask," he stopped her when she opened her mouth. "I did not feed him bourbon. He caught me drinking once, though, and I saw a certain interest in his eyes."
Not in a million years, had Elena ever thought she would have had a conversation like this with her husband. Happy to see him so excited, she picked up one of the two tabby kittens and studied him, "What about this one?"
"That one was the easiest to figure out. You have in front of you, Van Hellsing," he announced.
Elena laughed out loud, "Why would you ever call him Van Hellsing?" she asked him, tears in her eyes.
Damon smiled at her expression, "He's always attacking me so, you know," he gestured to himself. "I'm a vampire and Van Hellsing was the vampire hunter," explained.
She shook her head. She had to give it to him, he certainly knew how to pick out unique names for cats. She looked at the remaining tabby kitten that mewled at her when it caught her staring. She looked up at Damon with a raised eyebrow.
"This," he said, picking up the cat. "Is the only female of the bunch. Say hello to Miss Mittens," he said, wiggling her two little white paws at his wife.
Elena stroked Miss Mittens head. Now that she had finally found out what Damon had been doing for a whole month, she felt relieved. All the horrible scenarios she had imagined were just that, a product of her mind. If her husband had kept his kittens hidden – just thinking of the words 'Damon' and 'kittens' together made her laugh – it was only because he was afraid of ruining his bad boy reputation when it came to her.
"What are we going to do with them?" she asked, watching as Van Hellsing prepared himself to jump on her fingers. Damon was right; he definitely was a vampire hunter.
Damon observed her, a little smile on his face, "Well," he drew out. "I was thinking we could keep them. The house is big enough for them and we have a garden. It's not like they would be here all day, they would probably go outside and play so…" he studied her expression, trying to gauge her reaction.
Elena, feeling observed, looked up at him raising her eyebrows, "You don't need to ask my permission. The house is yours, if you want to keep them then keep them."
Damon rolled her eyes, reaching out with his right hand to place a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, "It's our house, and you know it. I want to know your opinion."
She smiled at his words. She loved hearing him refer to the Boarding House as their house. Even if years ago they had signed the deed of the house in her name, she had never considered it her house. It was the Salvatore Boarding House, after all. Now that they were married, Damon insisted on sharing with her any and all of his possessions. Elena had once asked him if he had different houses around the world; Damon had merely smirked in her direction.
"I like cats," she said, smiling happily at him.
She did not have to say anything else to let him know her decision. Damon beamed at her and leaned down to kiss her deeply, his love for her clear in the way his lips moved over hers passionately. When they separated, she looked at the four mewling kittens around them and wondered what it would be like with them in their lives now. She bet they would be able to bring a little more life in the big and silent Boarding House.
Little did she know what the next weeks had in store for her.
This is it for now! Love it? Hate it? As always, don't feel afraid to let me know what you think!
