"You really don't have to walk me home everyday," Soleil says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and smiling up at him.

Warm, sweet scented air sweeps by as Damon shrugs. "It's not a problem."

Soleil hums and they walk quietly for a few more minutes. "Have you made any friends here yet?"

Another shrug. "No, well," he grins down at her. "Besides you. And Kara."

"She told me you two went out to lunch the other day."

Damon's mouth twitches upwards as he remembers. Kara had insisted he allow her to take him to lunch. "To thank you! For the club and the fabulous shoes." She'd proceeded to talk his ear off in between bites of salad on the patio of a small town restaurant. Oddly enough, he hadn't been annoyed in the least.

"Yeah, she talks a lot doesn't she?"

Soleil gives a small sigh of laughter. "Yeah, she does." They turn the corner. "Do you miss your friends back in Virginia?" she asks.

Damon thinks of Elijah, Katherine, John Gilbert. He thinks about Elena. "I don't have friends," he says shortly.

"Of course you do," Soleil says casually. "I'm sure you do."

"How can you be so sure?"

She looks up at him, as if contemplating something. "Everyone has friends. And you're pretty wonderful. Really, really weird, and slightly annoying, but wonderful all the same."

He can't help the hollow bark of a laugh that emits from his chest. "No one has ever called me wonderful. For good reason." She doesn't say anything to this but when Damon looks down she's biting her lip in that way that he's come to realize means she wants to say something. "What?"

She doesn't answer right away and when she does her voice is quiet. "You do that a lot."

"Do what?"

"You..." she pauses. "You don't speak highly of yourself. I mean you do, in the most obnoxious way ever, but you're always kidding. When you mention something real about yourself, you always..." She trails off and Damon looks to the side. He refuses to acknowledge that his throat feels a little tight and his jaw has clenched. A few minutes pass in silence until she looks up at him again, still quiet, gentle. "Tell me about your friends."

Damon thinks about Alaric. And Caroline. He thinks about his brother. And soon he's talking, voice low, with Soleil's arm linked through his so she can hear better.

o o o

When they get to her door they stand facing each other, and Damon has a split second remembrance of that night with Katherine on Elena's front porch. It's just a flash of memory, but it wrenches at a part of him he doesn't like acknowledging on most days. Until recently that is - everything that has to do with Soleil reaches that part of him, with results not at all like either Katherine or Elena.

The wind blows hair into her face as she looks up at him. She has that look in her eyes, the one that makes her look unsure, and Damon opens his mouth to say he'll see her tomorrow when her words come out in a rush. "Are you thirsty? I mean... I have water and coffee and some all natural kiwi strawberry shakes I made." A blush erupts on her cheeks, and Damon's smile is a small one. She clears her throat and impressively ignores the fact that her cheeks are probably on fire. "Do you want a drink?"

"I finally get to see inside?" Damon teases. "I was beginning to think you just had a spare key to a friend's house. Trying to throw me off the trail."

Soleil rolls her eyes. "I'll take that for a yes." But she's smiling as she roots through her purse to find her keys. She swings the door open and walks inside and has already hung up her bag and dropped her keys in the bright yellow bowl that rests on a small hall table before she realizes that Damon is still outside. She gives him a funny look and he gives a tight smile, wondering how to tell her that she has to officially invite him in without seeming strange. "What are you doing? Aren't you coming inside?"

"I am," he says and subtly moves forward even though he knows he can't walk through. It feels as if the tip of his boot has hit a wall.

"Today?"

"Ha ha," Damon laughs sarcastically. "Yes today." He doesn't say anything else and Soleil raises an eyebrow. They continue to stare at each other and she begins to fidget, an expression crossing her face that suggests maybe it was a bad idea to ask him inside. A spark of frustration shoots through Damon, but he taps it down and thinks fast. "It's just, I'm used to formal invitations." He feels ridiculous, but continues on. "My father, he made sure to instill it in his kids to be polite. To a fault, as you can tell. It's kind of a habit."

She still stares at him, but at least the uneasy expression she had a few moments ago is gone. She twists her mouth to the side in what seems like a poor effort not to giggle. "Oookay. Uh, please come into my humble abode. Good enough?"

Damon steps forward and over the threshold. Relief floods through him. "Perfect."

She huffs out a soft laugh as she turns away to walk down the narrow hallway and Damon closes the door behind him, looking around as he does. It's exactly what he would have expected - the walls are a deep purple and from what he can see, what looks like little arts and craft projects clutter surfaces. There are pictures of what he assumes are family and friends hanging on the wall, and a bright yellow bowl next to the door holds keys, change, and Tootsie pops. He follows her into the kitchen and it is bright and happy with white tiles and a cloudless sky boarder. There is a big bowl of fruits on the counter and in her draining board are brightly colored mugs. From his place he can see into the sitting room, slightly. It contains a television and an extremely comfortable looking, rounded couch.

He hears the nails on wood before the little bark, but soon a small, black and white, French Bulldog runs into the room and begins to hop and paw at Soleil's leg. "Hello, my baby," she coos as she bends and picks it up. "Hello, hello." The puppy tries to lick her face but she pulls away, still cradling it close. She turns to Damon. "This is my baby, Loki." The chubby dog snuffles and turns it's soft brown eyes on Damon. Loki is nothing like the hunting dogs Giuseppe used to keep on the property, but he can admit to himself that this dog has it's appeal. It's pretty cute - it is what a pug would look like it pugs weren't hideous.

"You're my baby, aren't you," she says softly, and scratches its side. "My chubby lil baby, hm?" Loki noses at wherever he can reach and she laughs before setting him down. "Kay, Lokes. Go play." Loki yaps once and darts out of the room, but not before stopping to sniff Damon's leg.

"Cute dog," Damon says as he settles himself on a stool around the kitchen counter.

"Thanks," she says, smiling and moves to the sink to wash her hands. "I just got him a few months ago. Was a little lonely." Damon doesn't say that he hopes she isn't lonely anymore, with him hanging around.

"So," she turns to face him, drying her hands. "What would you like? Water? Juice? I don't drink soda, but I have some fresh smoothie. Or coffee? I have that blend you always like to drink at the shop."

"Coffee," Damon supplies and she smiles.

"Kay." She turns to the electric kettle and flips the switch. He watches her move around the kitchen, getting mugs and the proper coffee beans and what looks like tea leaves for herself. He's seen her with her own tea mug nearly everyday and he assumes it's the same kind. After she finishes setting up the coffee pot, she turns around and leans across the counter. Resting one cheek in her palm, she stares at Damon for a few moments and he quirks an amused eyebrow. "I meant what I said before, outside."

"And what was that?"

"That you're pretty strange."

Damon grins ruefully. "You have no idea."

A smile quirks the side of her mouth and she shifts a bit. Her overly large shirt slips off one shoulder and he has the insane urge to lean over and kiss the soft skin there. "I'm serious. It's not even that whole... whatever that was at the door. You just... act funny. Like... you're a serial killer or you've got the remote control to a bomb in your back pocket."

"So you're saying I'm diabolical? I'm okay with that."

She laughs. "No. Well, maybe. But no, I mean you're just too charming." He preens mockingly and she slaps at his hand. "Seriously, if this were a Lifetime movie, I would be a fool for inviting you into my home. You'd just end up tying me to the bed-"

"Oh, I like this movie. You say they show these on Lifetime?"

"-and doing very bad things to me." She talks over him, grinning. "They'd find my mangled corpse the next day and they wouldn't even consider you as a suspect."

Damon keeps his expression mild, ignoring how close to home this hits and scoffs. "You're a little macabre for such a seemingly sunny disposition."

She shrugs and turns away to pick up the whistling kettle. His coffee is still brewing. "I watch a lot of those criminal shows. You know the ones - where it's always the neighbor, or the psychologist, or even the ice cream man." She pours her cup of tea. He watches her hands as she strains and stirs and adds sugar.

"You're always drinking that stuff."

"Yeah, my grandmother sends it to me." She sets the spoon down in the sink and sits down next to him. "She loves this stuff. Not my favorite, I'd rather coffee but I have this... 'condition'." She takes a sip and makes a face. "I can't even put sugar in it."

"What kind of 'condition?'"

She waves her hand. "Oh, some ear thing. Neuralgia I think it's called. Basically it's these ear aches that keep coming back. Anyway, this is a homemade remedy." She sips again and scrunches her nose.

"It can't be that bad," he teases.

"You think so?" she asks, a laugh on her lips, and hands it to him. "You try it, this stuff is awful."

Damon rolls his eyes, but takes the mug. It has Wallace and Gromit on it, holding their own mugs. He makes a face as if to say 'watch and learns' and swallows a mouthful.

The reaction is instantaneous - immediately his mouth and throat burn, sear, as if he's been fed acid. Distantly he can hear the mug shatter as it crashes to the floor, but its hard for him to breathe, let alone pay attention to broken bits of ceramic. He can feel the veins appearing, bursting, onto his face. He darts from the stool and uses his speed to rush over to the sink in less than a second. Loki makes a racket in the background, yapping and barking at the sound of something breaking.

Without wasting time to get a cup, he sticks his head under the faucet and sticks his mouth under. After a few moments of gargling, spitting, and drinking greedily he shuts the water off. He's breathing heavily as he leans on hands braced against the sink when it hits him. Vervain. There was vervain in the tea. Anger spreads through his body. He whips around to demand what the fuck is going on, ask how could she do this to him, but stops short at the expression on her face.

Soleil's eyes are as wide as saucers and her mouth hangs open in shock and not a little amount of horror, totally unaware of the puppy biting at her ankles.

Damon gets the sudden feeling he's the who has some serious explaining to do.