A/N: Thank you all for the follows, faves and reviews, as always. I truly appreciate each one! And if you register with an account, I'd love to thank you personally.

We finally get a firsthand glimpse into the time Damon left. Now bear in mind, dear readers, that my degree is in English, not physics, so any theories I posit are sketchy, probably wrong and may be downright preposterous. Which is why this is Fan FICTION. LOL. It doesn't always have to make perfect sense, thank goodness!

Please read and review! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Vampire Diaries" or "The Boys of Colony Theta.

Chapter 4: A Time to Learn

There was something to be said for having a roommate who could cook and was willing to help with the housekeeping in a meaningful way. When Kate got up on Monday morning and dragged herself into the kitchen, Damon already had the Keurig warmed up and was brewing her a cup of coffee. He had been out to get the newspaper, and had cinnamon toast in the oven. As Kate sat at the table, yawning, Damon set the coffee and toast in front of her. She felt like she was in the "Twilight Zone" - in a good way.

"Thanks. You know you don't have to do this. I appreciate it, but seriously, I don't expect it every day."

"I know," he said, in a tone that implied he was going to do it, regardless.

When she finished eating, Kate got up, stretched and said, "Well, I'd better get ready to go to war with the pre-teens. They find new ways of testing me every year, the little darlings."

Damon chuckled. He knew she loved teaching, but was definitely not a morning person. When she came out of the bedroom, he looked a little surprised. She had been very casual in the previous days, but now she was ready for work. She wore dark blue slacks, a crimson blouse and had makeup on. Her lipstick matched the color of her top. He wasn't accustomed to seeing women wearing a lot of makeup in his time, although he noticed it was much more common, now. But he had not seen Kate wear any. He thought she looked fantastic.

She noticed him staring at her. "What is it? Is there a stain on my top or something?"

He shook his head. "No. Just, well, your makeup and all. You look great."

Kate gave him a toothy grin. "Well, thank you sir! I appreciate that! Starts my day off right! As if having coffee and cinnamon toast wasn't enough." Damon was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and Kate went to him. She held out her hand and looked at him inquiringly. He nodded and she gave him a shoulder hug and put her cheek on the top of his head. "Thanks, Damon. You're a good man," she said.

He smiled at her. "Have a good day," he said.

"Lord willing, I will," she responded, and picking up her purse and totebag, she was gone.

The first day of school presented its usual challenges, screw-ups and tests of patience, but Kate plopped into the car with a feeling of satisfaction. She thought she had a pretty good group of students this year, and she smiled when she thought about getting home and seeing Damon. It was pleasant to know she wasn't going home to an empty house.

Damon was surfing the Internet when she got home. She didn't mind, certainly. "Hey," she said to him.

He turned in the chair to smile at her. "How was your first day?"

"Not too bad. It'll be better once they get the bus schedules straightened out," she replied and headed for the kitchen. Damon followed her and watched as she grabbed the bread, peanut butter and strawberry jam and made a sandwich. She talked as she did so. "I have the 11:15 lunch period, and my planning period is in the morning too, so I don't have time at all in the afternoon for a snack. I was nearly chewing on the steering wheel on the way home!" She poured a glass of milk and stood at the counter, eating her sandwich.

"I'll have a snack ready for you from now on," he said.

Kate paused in mid-chew, then swallowed. "No way. You're my roommate, not my houseboy or butler, or whatever. It's very sweet of you to think of it, but it is absolutely not necessary!" He shrugged and she shook her head. "But you're stubborn, aren't you? Stubborn as a mule, I'm thinking." She made a noise somewhere between a snicker and a "tsk."

"I want to show you something I found online," he said.

"O.K.," Kate answered. She went into the office with him and he showed her a website he found. A video played. It was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech from 1963 in Washington, D.C.

"Is this from a movie?" he asked.

"No. It's Dr. King giving the speech, probably from one of the network news feeds," she said. "Why?"

"His wife, Mrs. King, didn't give the speech?" Damon asked.

"No. He did. Mrs. King supported her husband, but she didn't do the speeches. Why would you think so?"

"That's what we were always taught in school. Wasn't she killed?"

Kate shook her head. "No. Dr. King was assassinated in 1968 by James Earl Ray. Mrs. King died in oh, 2006 or so, I think. She was pretty old."

And once more, Damon realized how the powers that were in his time had lied to him about the history of the world. "They always said Mrs. King made the speech. Because it had to be a woman. But it was all a lie. And what he said - it's what I lived, too!" Damon said, gesturing at the screen. "I couldn't vote, or even have a job, even if I weren't a Consort, unless my owner said I could. Even then, I could only work three days a week. I couldn't be out after curfew without my owner, and I sure couldn't stay in a hotel by myself. It was legal to beat me, and the Enforcers could carry me away without any reason at all. I know Dr. King was talking about race, but in my time, it applies to males."

Kate sat in the chair next to the computer. She sighed. "Damon, any time a group of people is disenfranchised, or experiences discrimination just because they are of a certain race, gender or whatever, then Dr. King's words are for them. He was killed because some people didn't want equality. It was a tough, long road. And now, even though we've made so much progress, it's not perfect, but we're still working." She shook her head. "It's so hard for me to hear that equal rights were decimated, along with the male population. To someone standing on my side of history, that's as much of a tragedy as the billions of lives lost, that no one thought to make sure people retained their basic human rights."

"The Sisters of Salinas said males had been on top and women had been slaves, so it was time the tables were turned," he said.

"And in so doing, they become the very thing they profess to hate," Kate answered. "Well, I'll certainly pray for a different outcome, this time. Forewarned is forearmed, as they say."

"You think the future can be changed?" Damon asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Nearly every writer who has ever written on the subject of knowing the future has theorized about that. We don't know. But we can hope, for sure."

"I wish we could change it. I don't want other males going through what I've been through."

"Me either. So, what did you do today?"

"I cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer," he said.

Kate looked heavenward. "Bless you! I've been meaning to do that, and just haven't. Thank you! Take the rest of the month off. You've done your part for August, believe me."

Damon grinned. "I didn't hear you say that."

"Yeah, right." Kate could tell Damon's real personality was starting to come through and she was glad. As he became more comfortable around her, he was coming out of his shell and she loved seeing it. She headed for the kitchen and started looking in the cabinets.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Checking to see what's around here for supper."

"I've got that under control," Damon said, his tone smug.

Kate turned to him. "Oh you do, huh? So you just came in and took over my kitchen?" she teased him, and found herself backed up against the counter, with Damon's hands on either side of her.

"You're so short," he said, grinning at her.

"I am NOT short. I'm vertically challenged!" Kate said. "Besides, five feet, three inches is considered average. On the low end, yes, but still average. You're not exactly a giant yourself, though."

"Taller than you are." His grin had turned wicked.

"Smarty pants." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, and just like that, the air was electric again.

Kate looked him in the eyes. They were twinkling with mischief. "And just what are you gonna do about it, Hotshot?"

"Try it and see."

"Oh, no. You're not catching me like that," she shook her head.

"So it's my turn to ask: what are you going to do about it?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Oh, I don't know. Are you ticklish?" she said and goosed his ribs. Damon squawked and jumped back, and Kate moved to the other side of the table. "Looks like you are. I'll have to remember that, just in case." And some spark of devilment made her stick her tongue out again and Damon started around the table after her.

"I told you not to do that," he said, his voice becoming a growl.

Shit. Where did that voice come from? Kate didn't know, but it sent heat to her toes. "Gotta catch me first!" she crowed and scooted into the bedroom, slammed the door and locked it. He didn't make as much noise on the hardwood floor as she did, pelting down the hall, but he hit the door.

"Hey! It's locked!"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"Are you mad at me?" his tone changed completely.

"No, not at all."

"Then open the door!" He rattled the knob.

"Pick the lock."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." He sounded genuinely confused.

They didn't pick locks in his time? Well, that made some kind of sense. She opened the door.

Damon looked a little puzzled. "Why'd you run?"

"So you'd chase me, silly man. When I want you to catch me, I'll let you know." She winked at him and said, "So what did you have in mind for supper?" as she walked back into the kitchen.

"I'm trying to remember," he answered, thinking about the last ten minutes. This was not how males and females interacted in his time. He didn't understand the age-old instinct he had to chase the woman running from him, but he liked it.

As the rest of the week went on, Damon and Kate fell into a routine: he got up, made a light breakfast and coffee for her and they chatted a little. She left for school and Damon would go back to bed for a couple of hours. When he got up, he tackled the next cleaning chore on his mental list, and did whatever needed to be done to make dinner - pull meat out of the freezer or whatever. He loved to listen to Kate's satellite radio, and would often turn it on as he worked. Then, he would make his lunch and go to the computer to catch up on some reading, before making Kate a snack she could have when she got home. Knowing she didn't expect him to do these things for her made them satisfying.

On Thursday evening, as they settled into their pattern of Kate working on the next day's lesson plans and Damon watching TV or dozing on the sofa, she asked him, "You want to come to school with me tomorrow?"

"I guess I could. Why?" he answered.

"Well, since I don't have any special needs students, I don't qualify to have an aide, but I sure could use some help. Even in the digital age, there are papers to grade, and I could do with a little assistance in getting worksheets graded, and then recording the grades in my grade book. That way, I can get some actual teaching done on a Friday and not have to deal with recording grades. I can transfer the grades to the digital site here at home."

He nodded. "I'd like that. I'm interested in seeing how classes are taught."

"O.K. I got you a pair of khaki slacks, so you can wear those, if you will. The administration doesn't like staff wearing jeans, unless it's for a casual day or something. And then you've got that blue shirt with the collar. Would you mind wearing that?"

"I don't mind. I don't want to stand out."

Kate smiled. Damon would stand out in a crowd, just because of that face. His blue eyes alone were enough to make heads turn as he walked down the street. Kate had seen the looks on the faces of women - and men - as they went up and down the aisles in the grocery store.

Damon had met the principal and some of Kate's co-workers when he helped her decorate her room, but this was the first chance he had to see students. He was sitting at a table in the back of the classroom and was diligently grading worksheets when the bell rang and the first class of students filed in. Kate said they were her sixth graders and most of them were about 11 or 12. There was the usual jostling and talking, but since it was early, they were a little more subdued. He watched with interest as the boys shoved at each other and the girls giggled and talked.

"O.K. Thirty seconds to the late bell. Let's get settled down," Kate said to her class. The students sat down.

One of the girls spotted Damon. "Who's that, Ms. Frost?" she blurted out.

Damon looked up from his work and saw the whole class had turned around to stare at him. He smiled shyly at them.

"That's my friend Damon. He's helping me get some paperwork done today. Now turn around and stop staring. It's rude. Besides, we have work to do." Kate could see the girls grinning at each other. They wouldn't be too forward, but she didn't put anything past the crowd of eighth-grade girls in her third period class. They were all 13 going on 35, and they lived for masculine attention.

Damon worked, but also listened with interest as Kate spent the first half of the class going over grammar skills, and then gave them a 15-minute writing assignment. "If you all get through in time, since it's Friday, we'll do something special." Damon could tell they liked the idea.

They all finished their assignments and turned them in, and Kate grabbed a pack of index cards. "OK, sixth-graders. We're going to do magic cards." She started passing out the index cards. "When you get your card, I want you to just write a thought on one. It can be anything that comes through your head. Something you saw on the way to school, something about your family, song lyrics you like - as long as it's G-rated. Don't put your names on them, and I'll read them out loud, O.K.? Everybody got a card? Go."

One boy asked, "Don't you get a card, Ms. Frost?"

Kate grinned. "Sure. I'll take one," she said and wrote something quickly. She gave them five minutes and then took up the cards. She put hers on top. "I need another cup of coffee. Wonder who wrote that?" she teased. The kids all laughed. They knew she loved her coffee.

There were several nice thoughts: "I love my dog," "I love my cat," "I love my family," some were funny: "I wish my mom would let me listen to my favorite radio station on the way to school" or "My brother spilled milk all over himself this morning," and there were four that read, "Damon is so cute!" Kate didn't read those; she would save them and show him after school. Kids were nothing if not honest.

When the bell rang, the students got up and filed out of class. Kate brought their papers to the table where Damon sat. "This is my planning period, but if I get with it, I can probably get these papers graded before the eighth-graders come in at ten. So what did you think of the class?"

Damon smiled at her. "It was kind of intense. You want them to learn a lot of information."

"It's information they need. I don't want to send them on to high school without knowing good grammar and good writing fundamentals. They gripe about it now, but when they get in high school, they'll be grateful."

"That makes sense."

Kate worked steadily, occasionally reading a snippet from one of the papers that made her chuckle. "These papers really do help me get an idea of where my kids are in their writing skills. I don't expect them all to be geniuses, but I see we do need to work on some things. Oh, when this next class comes in, I expect them to be rowdy since it's Friday, and once the girls get a look at you, they're going to have a fit, but just ignore anything they say, and I'll take care of them if they get rude."

"I'm used to it, Kate. Males were always targets of being catcalled or whistled at. We couldn't say anything back. We just had to take it."

"Well, it's not going on my classroom!" she said. "These kids are going to learn some manners if I have to shove etiquette books down their uncouth little throats!"

Damon laughed at her vehemence, but he was grateful. Having someone saying that behavior was wrong was heartwarming.

The bell rang and Kate stood. "Gird your loins. Here come the lions."

Damon watched as the older students came in. They did make more noise than the first class and he could hear some of the girls laugh and giggle. Some went so far as to say to each other, "Who's that? How old is he?"

Kate waited until the late bell rang. "All right. Get settled, people," she said. When the class got quiet, she said, "That's my friend Damon. He's helping me out today. Keep it civil and polite or you're on a one-way ticket to the principal's office. No joke. You all are old enough to control yourselves. Now, we were talking about symbolism. When we read 'Chicago' by Carl Sandberg, he uses pretty straightforward language, but there is some symbolism in it." And she went on to discuss the poem with her students. Damon had never heard of the poem, or the poet, and he listened in rapt attention. The students were listening too, and Kate kept them too occupied to pay any attention to him.

The rest of the day passed in similar fashion and on the way home, Kate said, "Listen, you were a huge help today. There are so many things I don't have to do now, so I can enjoy the weekend! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Kate. I'm glad I was able to help."

"You did, believe me. Now, you know, as quick as you are with numbers, you might want to think about a career in accounting or something like that. You were averaging those grades like lightning. You could take some basic classes and see how you like it. Accountants make a good living."

"Maybe so," Damon answered. He never thought about his facility with numbers translating into anything useful. An arbitrary number had landed him in the world of the Consort. Maybe numbers could get him somewhere in this world.

"I'm taking a day of personal leave the day after Labor Day, so you and I can go see the District Attorney about getting you a birth certificate. Once we get that done, it will be a lot easier to get everything else you'll need. Eventually, I'll have to get you driving so you can get a license, but until then, a non-driver ID will work. I had another idea. How would you like to take a martial arts class? I have a friend who goes to a school near here, and I think I'd like to try it."

"Martial arts?" Damon said.

"Oh, yeah. You know, like on 'Kung Fu,'" which they ran across on one of the vintage TV show channels.

"Oh! But that must cost money, and I don't want to be a burden on you, Kate."

"You're not. It's a two for one thing. Two people get lessons for the price of one for three months. If you like it, then when you get a job, you can pay for your own classes. We'd have class three times a week, so that's a pretty good deal."

"It sounds interesting. I'd like to try it, I think."

"Great. We can go by the studio on Monday and do the tour and get signed up. I know you were used to being fairly physically active, so you might want to keep that up."

"Some, at least."

When they got into the house, Kate plunked her totebag down by the front door. "Not touching that thing again until Sunday night!" she exclaimed.

August, 2454

The hunt was on for the missing Consort. No one could fathom what happened to Damon Alpha 120878. He simply disappeared from his client's apartment. Her male had been detained and harshly interrogated, but it was obvious he knew nothing, so he was returned to his Mistress' home.

Even if Damon had been killed, his chip would still transmit the location of his body. The UGC was frantic. Had one of their Consorts somehow managed to elude the Enforcers - and every other law enforcement arm?

Finally, some answers were revealed when a trace of his chip - long since dead and no longer transmitting - turned up in an old cemetery from The Time Before. It was found in the ashes of bodies cremated and buried in a potter's field. The bodies were of people found dead and who could never be identified. After a year, their remains were cremated and the ashes buried in the public cemetery. How the hell did a tracking chip from 2450 get buried with the ashes of the dead from The Time Before? The mystery seemed unsolvable. In any event, the search for Damon Alpha 120878 - or his tracking chip, anyway - ceased for the time being. Damon's friends in the Maison Service mourned his passing, and prayed he found happiness wherever he was.

Their prayers were answered. Damon was blissfully happy. He didn't care that he didn't have a name or any identification. He was living a life his brothers in captivity could only dream of. Hopefully one day, that dream would become a reality for them, too.

That weekend, Kate went over Damon's "history" with him until he could fire it off at will, and answer any number of awkward questions correctly. He had repeated it so often, he half believed it himself, which was the point, as Kate said.

Finally, he sat back on the sofa and sighed. "I think I've done about as much as I can for one day. If we work any longer, I'm afraid I'll just end up confusing myself. Are you sure this is the only way to do this?"

Kate shrugged. "It's been the only thing I could think of. I've even gone on these Internet forums anonymously to see if people have done something like this, and the only ones who have are making up similar stories. It's mostly women on the run from abusive ex-husbands. But they had some good tips to share, so I'll keep it all in mind."

"Abusive ex-husbands?" Damon was obviously confused.

"Yeah. Probably one of those actual issues the Sisters of Salinas wanted to address. It's a problem, no doubt, but it's by no means universal among men. It's primarily men who have control issues. They want to control everything about their girlfriend's or wife's life, and they have no impulse control, so they do horrible things. It's similar to women you've told me about who spanked their males in public, except there are government regulations about marking them. In this world, you're not supposed to do it, period. But it does go both ways. There are battered husbands, but they're not as common and unfortunately, they're often very ashamed since some people don't believe women can abuse men. You could tell them a different story, of course."

Damon shook his head. "I sure could. We were always supposed to report abuse, but unless it was pretty bad, the Maison director might or might not do something about it. It depended on how wealthy the client was. A really rich client could get by with more." He shuddered and Kate could tell he was thinking about something in particular.

"Something you need to get off your chest, buddy?" she asked.

"I feel like I just tell you one awful story after another," he said sadly.

Kate took his hand. "It's all right. I told you - if you need to talk, please, talk. Getting it out might help. But you know I won't force the issue."

"I want to tell you, but it's another of those things that's extremely embarrassing."

"It's up to you."

Damon sighed deeply. "Mrs. Taylor was one of those wealthy clients. And like Mrs. Gilley, she really enjoyed inflicting pain. Her favorite thing to do was tie me to the riding bench and put a chastiser on me."

"What's that?" It sounded horrible.

"Well, it's a metal tube that goes over the penis. And it has blunt studs on the inside."

Kate's eyes widened. "And then she would stimulate you, right? That must have been excruciating!"

"It was. I'd rather be beaten any day. But the chastiser is meant to not leave scars or break the skin. I remember crying and begging her to take it off, that I'd do absolutely anything she wanted, if she would just remove it. I mean, I would have anyway, for the most part. That's what she paid for. But in this case, it meant watching while her male - well, you don't want to know what she forced him to do to me. It was strictly illegal, and he hated it too, but she didn't care. Her money meant she didn't have to care." His voice had gone to the monotone it took when he talked about his past.

Kate shook her head, her face stricken. How did you respond to something like that? "All I can say is I'm so sorry, Damon, and that doesn't even start to cover it. It's criminal. It's abuse and it's rape." She stroked his hair softly and he held her hand to his face. Slowly, allowing him to pull away if he wanted to, she slipped her arm around him and put her cheek next to his. She didn't know how to help except to be there when he needed her. How did other Consorts deal with that kind of abuse? It was unthinkable.

"I feel safe here with you," he murmured.

"Good. I want you to feel safe here. Until you choose otherwise, Damon, this is your home, and you should always feel safe at home."

"You're too good to me."

"No such thing," Kate answered as she rocked him in her arms.

He looked at her with those magnificent eyes and said, "I'd like to kiss you again. Is that wrong?"

"Why would it be wrong, hon?" she asked.

"After telling you that, and now, I just want to kiss you."

Kate shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe you need to do something life-affirming. Reckon that's it?"

"Maybe," he said and gave her a tentative smile as he leaned in to kiss her. She relaxed against him and he held her, kissing her, stroking her hair this time, smelling the faint fragrance of soap and shampoo that made up her unique scent. As he kissed her and she returned his kisses, he could feel her hands on his back, lightly scratching his skin, giving him the best kind of goosepimples. "I think I can get used to making out," he teased as he kissed her neck.

"Fine with me," she replied, as she brought his mouth back to hers. She didn't know how long they kissed when she heard her cell phone ring. "Crap," she said as she fumbled for it. "It's my mom." Damon sighed and put his head on her chest, to maintain the physical contact he found so comforting. Kate shifted so they were more comfortable. "Hey, Mama," she said. "No, I just had to locate the phone, that's all. Yeah. Everything's fine. I had a good first week. How are you and Daddy doing?" There was a pause, and she said, "Well, I'm glad he has a good group, too." Her father taught high school history. "No, nothing much happening, here. Just the usual. Well, yeah, I have met someone. I met him at the shopping center. He's really sweet. He's a good guy. Of course, you'll get to meet him. No, he's nothing like the ex. Daylight and dark, as a matter of fact." She buried her nose in Damon's thick hair as her mother rambled on. "Yep. No, I've finished my lesson plans. I was really thinking about hitting the sack. Morning comes early." Another pause. "All right. Love you too. Tell Daddy I love him. 'Bye."

As she ended the call, she could feel Damon chuckle. "You met me in the shopping center?"

"Well, yeah. That's where we were. I just conveniently didn't mention it was between two buildings, is all. We need to find a last name for you, too. Look through that old phone book and see if you can find a name you like."

"I will tomorrow," he said.

She moved. "Get up, babe. I really do need to go to bed. I don't do as well when I keep late hours, no matter how delightful the company is." She kissed him on the top of the head.

"I'd like to kiss you a lot more," he said with a grin.

Kate laughed. "We'll have opportunities. We do live here, after all." She had gone and allowed some strange guy to move in and she was perfectly happy about it. Crusader Rabbit rides again, she thought as she went to shower.

Damon wasn't complaining, for sure. He didn't know quite how he managed to land on his feet in this situation, but he certainly had. As he cuddled to her side when he went to bed, he kissed her tenderly and was profoundly thankful.

Be a wonderful reader and leave a review, won't you? Thank you!