Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.
Next up: Damon and Alaric finally meet, plus more of Elena and Damon: Roommate Shenanigans. :)
Chapter Ten
Elena woke slowly, the way one does when coming to after a deep, restful sleep. She stretched, twisting around until each of the vertebrae in her back gave a satisfying pop. She snuggled into the soft bedding, enjoying the feel of the sheets on her skin—
Wait a minute.
Her lids snapped open as a flare of panic ripped through her. She sat up and glanced around, startled to find Damon in the chair by the window, watching her with those unnerving blue eyes.
She ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh of relief, grateful he hadn't taken off while she'd been snoozing. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not polite to stare?"
"Good morning to you, too, Sunshine," he greeted her with a lazy smile.
"Um, yeah. I definitely don't remember climbing into this bed last night," she said, frowning in confusion.
"That's because you didn't. I dozed off for a while, and when I woke up, you looked absolutely miserable, curled up like some kind of contortionist. I decided to switch places with you." His lips twitched as he noticed her peeking under the sheets to make sure she was still fully clothed. "Don't worry. I didn't cop a feel. I was a perfect gentleman."
"Impressive. Thanks for, uh, letting me catch some zees," she said, trying not to be awkward about the whole thing and failing miserably.
"No problem." He stood and stretched, looking none the worse for wear after spending most of the night in the chair. "What's a guy gotta do to get a shower and some breakfast?"
Elena tossed back the blankets and reluctantly crawled out of bed. "Bathroom's down the hall, last door on the right. I'll grab some fresh clothes for you. Unfortunately, breakfast is going to have to wait. I need to make a few calls before I stop by my place and stock up on blood bags."
He nodded and headed out into the hall, Elena following to make sure he didn't take a detour to someone's room for a pre-breakfast snack. When he disappeared into the bathroom, she picked a spot where she could keep an eye on the door and flipped through the contacts on her phone until Ric's name came up. She dialed his number and counted the rings as an indication of how bad today's hangover might be. One to two rings? All was well. Nine to ten rings? Rough sailing. No answer? Call an ambulance.
He picked up on the fourth ring, sounding groggy but not totally incoherent. Not bad for 8:30, all things considered.
"'Lo?" came the gruff greeting.
"Ric, it's me. I need to ask for a huge favor."
"This early? S'wrong?" he asked, automatically assuming the worst.
"Nothing. I wanted to thank you for giving me Bonnie's address. I brought my friend to her place last night, and I was wondering if you could keep him company for a little while so I can run some errands. He's a bit of a flight risk," she explained, stretching the truth slightly to suit her needs.
"Ah. Well, since you asked so nicely, I s'pose I can do that." There was rustling in the background, suggesting that he was trying to drag himself out of bed. "What time do you need me to be there?"
"Is an hour too soon?"
"Nope. I'll just hit the shower, and then I'll be over."
"You're a life saver, Ric. I owe you one."
A rusty laugh came over the line. "I'll hold you to it. So, what's he like? Should I bring anything?"
She paused as she contemplated which words to use to describe Damon. "He's . . . kind of a mystery. I'd bring something in a paper bag, if you catch my drift," she hinted. "And you should probably take a cab. If you two hit it off, I might be pouring you back into one to get you home."
He chuckled again. "A day drinker, huh? Sounds like my kind of guy."
Elena was so absorbed in the conversation that she completely missed Damon stepping out of the bathroom. When a pair of bare legs entered her field of vision, she let her gaze travel upward until it landed on the towel knotted around his waist. Actually, "towel" was a generous term, she mused; the thing was only slightly larger than a dinner napkin.
She almost dropped the phone as she scrambled to her feet. "Jesus, Damon! Get in there before someone sees you," she ordered, gesturing toward their room.
"Everything okay?" Alaric asked in amusement.
"Just peachy. I'll see you soon. Thanks again, Ric."
She ended the call and glared at the smirking, shameless, gorgeous asshole dripping water on the carpet in front of her.
"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who was supposed to bring me clothes. This was all I could find," he said, indicating the scrap of fabric barely concealing his naughty bits.
"Shit, the clothes. I forgot. Wait for me in the room, and I'll be back in a second."
She hurried down the hall, Damon's voice trailing after her. "You can't say you didn't appreciate the view."
"Don't push it!" As she went in search of Bonnie, she couldn't help but wonder if the lady of the house had any clothing in storage from bygone eras. She snickered to herself as she pictured Damon in a leisure suit and platform shoes. That would shut him up.
###
Sadly, she discovered that Bonnie only kept modern clothes on hand. It made sense, but it ruined Elena's revenge fantasy. No polka dots, no neon colors, no loud patterns. Instead, she'd given her a pair of dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt, both of which perfectly suited Damon. All that was missing was a leather jacket.
Reentering their room, she found him lying on the bed once more, the towel flirting with the tops of his thighs. She tossed the clothes at him and turned around in order to avoid the show that was sure to come. Only when she heard the rasp of a zipper being tugged up did she face him again.
While his bottom half was covered, he remained bare chested, fiddling with the shirt but not making any moves to pull it on. "No underwear?" he asked, directing her attention to the snug denim resting low on his hips.
"Oh, uh, I guess Bon—" Elena started to explain, but Damon cut her off.
"Eh, it's fine. I'm more of a commando guy anyway. The look on your face was priceless though." He grinned, pleased at his ability to fluster her.
"Why are you being like this?" she asked.
"Like what?"
"This," she said, gesturing toward his half-clad form. "The innuendos, the near nudity, the bedroom eyes. Less than twenty-four hours ago, you were bitching at me for handing you over to Elijah, and now you're trying to what? Seduce me?"
He shrugged, his smile fading. "I was attempting to lighten the mood."
Elena's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "And you thought a Strip-O-Gram would be the best way to do that?"
He raked his fingers through his damp hair, leaving the dark strands in wild disarray. "I'm trying to distract myself and pretend that everything hasn't gone to shit. If I start taking things as seriously as you do, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind." He dropped into the chair, the springs creaking under his weight. "My brother could be dead by now for all we know, and it's my fault," he finished in a voice that had gone unnaturally quiet.
Sympathy stirred to life within her. "I'll get him out, Damon. I already told you I would."
"Yeah, if Elijah and his dickhead brother haven't already offed him," he muttered.
"I highly doubt it. Their revenge game has been a slow burn. Besides, I have a plan." That last part wasn't the exact truth, nor was it a complete lie. She had a few ideas; she just needed to talk with Caroline before putting any of them into motion.
She opened her mouth to explain further when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Damon's eyes narrowed as he rose from the chair and started forward to answer it. She intercepted him, placing a hand on his chest before yanking it away as if she'd been burned.
"It's a friend of mine," she said in a rush, trying to gloss over the fact that she'd touched him. "He knows nothing about vampires, witches, or any other supernatural bullshit, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'd also appreciate it if you let him remain in one piece while I'm gone."
"I don't need a babysitter," he growled, advancing on her until he had her cornered, her back flush against the wall. "Are you sure you want to leave me here with a defenseless human?" His tone had a silky, innocuous quality to it, but she detected something much darker creeping just below the surface.
Ignoring the chill that skittered down her spine, she pushed him away. "Knock it off. I won't be long. I think you can control yourself until I get back." An idea popped into her head, and she stopped with her hand on the knob. "What's your favorite drink?" she called over her shoulder.
"Is that a trick question?" came the dubious response.
"I meant alcohol, you ass."
"Bourbon. Why?"
"Oh, I think you'll be just fine."
###
"Alaric, this is Damon. Damon, Alaric." Introductions complete, Elena stepped back, leaving Damon to study the man standing in front of him. He held a paper sack tucked close to his chest as if it contained the most precious substance in the world, and Damon supposed it did. One of the most precious, anyway.
While the man offered up his hand for a shake, Damon took in the faded jeans, plaid button down over a simple gray t-shirt, and the few days' worth of beard growth the guy was sporting. He had a friendly face, but his eyes revealed echoes of a less-than-pleasant past. Seemed harmless enough.
Damon pumped Alaric's hand a couple times and gestured to the recliner/spare bed. "Have a seat if you want."
"Thanks."
As Alaric settled himself in the chair, Damon glanced at Elena, who was out in the hall with Bonnie the Good Witch. They were speaking softly to each other, but Damon still heard most of the conversation. She'd asked Bonnie to listen in on the two of them every so often to make sure Alaric could still be counted among the living. Apparently, his warrior princess still didn't trust him to behave.
Elena turned to leave and caught Damon watching her. She pointed at Alaric, her mouth working and her hands fluttering through the air as she mimed a message to him. His charades skills were a little rusty, so she was either trying to tell him not to dance the Tango in a hula skirt, or not to hurt her friend. If he had to guess, he'd assume it was the latter.
He gave her a thumbs-up and closed the door on Bonnie's suspicious glare and Elena's reassuring-but-slightly-worried goodbye wave to Alaric. He traipsed over to the bed and sat on the edge, suddenly very interested in the brown bag sitting on the floor by Alaric's feet.
"Whatcha got there?" he asked.
"Just some mid-morning liquid courage," Alaric answered, pulling a bourbon bottle from the sack. "Although I probably should have brought the makings for Bloody Marys instead."
Don't tempt me, Damon mused, briefly fantasizing about the literal, vampire version of the popular drink. His mood lightened when he caught a glimpse of the bottle's label, revealing it to be one of his favorite brands of bourbon. "Nah, this works for me."
He was about to go hunt down a couple of glasses when Alaric pulled a pair from the bag and set them on the end table beside him. "You really came prepared," Damon commented, impressed by the man's attention to detail.
"Yeah, that's me." Alaric chuckled while cracking open the bottle and filling each glass with a healthy dose of the amber liquid. He handed one to Damon and clinked their glasses together. "Cheers."
"Cheers." Damon tossed his back, enjoying the way it burned as it slid down his throat.
There was a moment of awkward silence until Alaric poured himself a generous refill and tilted the bottle in Damon's direction. "More?"
"Please."
After taking a sip, Alaric stared out the window as if seeking an appropriate topic of conversation other than the usual, mundane fare—Great weather we're having, huh? How 'bout those Yankees? He finally turned back to Damon, idly swirling the remaining liquor in his glass.
"So, what do you do for a living?"
Damon polished off his second glass with an audible swallow, trying to hide the smile that had crept onto his face at the seemingly innocent question. He couldn't very well give "vampire politics" as his answer. "I guess you could say I work in government," he conceded.
Alaric's eyes widened in a comical way. "Oh, wow. I'll refrain from asking why you're hiding out in a safe house then."
"Probably a good idea," Damon admitted with a laugh. "What about you? What's your deal?"
"I wish I could say 'rocket scientist' or 'professional skydiver,' but the sad truth is I'm an accountant," he revealed, shooting Damon a wry smile. "Hard to believe, I know."
"Hey, whatever pays the bills, man." Damon noticed the lack of a ring on his hand. "Any significant other? Kids? Or are you enjoying the single life?"
Alaric hesitated, and a look of hurt briefly flashed across his face that reminded Damon of the pain he'd seen in his eyes when he'd given him a onceover earlier. "No, no kids. There was someone once, but it didn't work out." In a clear bid to change the subject, he asked, "How do you know Elena?"
Funny you should ask. "We met . . . through work."
"Huh. I have no idea what she does, to be honest. From what I gather, it's pretty stressful."
"Yeah, it's a doozy," Damon hedged. He reached for the bourbon, more interested in thirds than discussing how he had been Elena's latest assignment.
"How long have you been friends?" Alaric asked, sliding over his glass for another refill.
"We're more like casual acquaintances, actually. I met her a couple years ago."
"Must be less casual than you think if she's willing to help you out like this."
Was he imagining things or was there a note of protectiveness in Alaric's voice whenever he spoke about Elena? "So it would seem," Damon murmured. He gulped down #3 and began pouring #4 as he wondered how long Elena's excursion was going to take. Alaric's questions were starting to make him sweat, and not in a good way.
###
Elena slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and wedged the cooler between her hip and the doorframe while she twisted the knob and opened the way into the room. Bonnie had given her a report of "all clear," so she assumed Damon and Alaric had gotten on relatively well with each other.
The first thing she noticed upon entering was Alaric snoring softly in the chair, an empty bourbon bottle on the table beside him. Her eyes wandered to Damon where he was perched on the bed. He didn't look nearly as relaxed as Ric, drumming his fingers against his leg in an uneven rhythm.
"Hey," she called to him. "Everything go okay?"
"Yep," he answered without looking at her. His gaze was locked on the cooler she held.
"You sure 'bout that? You're being unusually quiet."
"I'm hungry," he growled, dark veins snaking across his cheeks before he regained control of himself.
The harsh noise startled Alaric awake, and he slowly sat up, glancing around as he tried to figure out what had woken him.
"Sorry," Damon muttered.
Alaric waved off the apology. "Didn't mean to nod off on you," he said, rubbing his eyes as he rose from the chair. "Oh, hey, Elena. You just get back?"
"Yeah. Thanks again for keeping Damon company. If you're ready to go, I called a cab, and it should be here in a few minutes." She didn't want to push him out the door, but Damon's crankiness was only going to get worse, and they couldn't very well feed with Ric around.
"Sure. It was great meeting you, Damon. If you're ever in the market for a drinking buddy, just give me a call."
Damon mumbled something indecipherable in response, but thankfully, Alaric was oblivious to the increasingly agitated vampire.
"Bye, 'Lena. Let me know if you need anything else." Her slightly tipsy friend hugged her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Another growl erupted behind her, and Elena quickly ushered Ric into the hall before Damon took a bite out of him.
###
Once Alaric was safely on his way home, she confronted Damon about the aggression that still clung to him like a second skin. "What's gotten into you?"
"I'm starving," he snapped.
"You growled at him," she emphasized. "And you shouldn't be that ravenous. You fed well yesterday."
"Yeah, after going days without so much as a fucking taste. I overreacted. That's all."
He was already pawing through the cooler, so she let it drop. Something was bothering him other than his empty stomach, but she didn't want to dig too deeply right at the moment. Besides, they were stuck together for the foreseeable future; it was bound to come out sooner or later.