Disclaimer: I don't own any of The Vampire Diaries material. I just play with it. No infringements intended.
Chapter 11 – Drinks and a breakfast guest (Caitlin)
Tuesday night I was working another late shift at the bar. Damon hadn't contacted me. I assumed he was still avoiding me, because he owed me an explanation. Well, I couldn't force him. If Cheryl was right, he would come around some time and maybe a little distance after our hot first date wasn't that bad after all. At some time during the evening I fetched some supply from the storage and stacked the bottles into the compartments below the counter. "Hello, Caitlin." His voice let me bolt upright and I hit my head hard underneath the counter. "Ow - shit!" I cursed and held my head. I heard a few snickers and glared around. "I'm sorry," he said and looked apologetically. "No, you're not," I snapped. "All right, I'm not," he agreed and grinned. "Are we gonna talk about what happened?" I asked. He pursed his lips and looked pensive. But he wasn't. To my best judgement he was tipsy already. "Nope, I don't think so," he replied. "Okay, then what do you want here, Damon?" I asked. "Well, it's a bar. What do you think?" he replied. Of course, he wanted a drink. "Your favorite?" I returned. He nodded. "Double it," he added. I poured him his rye and turned away to serve another customer, ignoring him. When I returned he held out his glass. "Another." I raised an eyebrow, but followed his request. I didn't want to start a drinking discussion with him. After all, he was just another customer. After the fifth double shot, however, I couldn't ignore it any longer. "I think you've had enough, Damon," I stated. "Absolutely not," he replied with the slightest slurring. I looked around to see if anyone was watching us. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered and leaned closer to him. He rested his chin on his hands. "'Life's more fun that way," he returned. I just shook my head and gave him one more. "This is the last one you'll get from me, Damon," I said. He just shrugged and remained quiet for some time. Only his eyes followed me around. I had enough customers which kept me busy and so we didn't get to talk for a while. I just observed him. He sprawled on his chair and watched people around him, as if he was waiting for something.
Jake stopped by and refilled the beer supplies. He nudged me with his elbow and nodded into Damon's direction. I groaned inwardly. A curvaceous blonde had made her way through the crowd and placed herself on the barstool next to him. "Hello handsome," she cooed and almost bumped her oversized boobs into him. "Hello, hello, where did you come from?" he slurred and looked her over from head to toe. She crossed her legs herself seductively on the small seat and leaned forward, presenting her obvious assets to him. He was assessing her with a certain expression on his face. I had come to call it 'hunter mode' over the years. Whenever one of those slut-type girls had strolled in, looking for an easy fuck, men's gazes had changed. She was no exception and Damon seemed hooked. I was boiling inwardly at her impertinence while I watched her fussing over him. He returned her flirtatious attempts and they giggled together. When Damon bent over to attack her long neck I nearly lost it and had to grab the counter for composure. "A drink for the lady," he called to me. "I don't see any lady," I said tersely and glared at him. He frowned at me with heavy lidded eyes for a moment before a stupid grin spread over his face. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and threw some cash on the counter. "Come on, let's take this party somewhere else," he slurred and threw his arm around the blonde, dragging her to the door. "Have fun," I murmured through clenched teeth. At the door he turned around once more and looked at me with a frown. Did he expect me to fight for him or something? I lowered my head and tried not to think of him right now. We weren't in any relationship, I knew that, but why did it hurt so much to see him with another woman?
My shift continued for another two hours and I kept working like in trance that night. When I changed into my normal clothes, Jake stopped by. "Wasn't that your date earlier tonight?" he said. "Yep," I said. "Um …, sorry if I seem nosey, but why did he leave with miss bitch-tits?" I sighed. "Cause he's a dick, Jake." I tied my shoestrings and got up. "I'm sorry," he said and looked down. I just shrugged. "Shit happens, Jake, don't worry," I replied and grabbed my bag. "See you tomorrow, Caitlin." I nodded at him. "See you." I left and walked down the street to my car, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. When I turned around the next corner, I bumped into someone. "Oops, I'm sorry," I said and stepped back. "Don't be," a well-known voice replied. "Damon?" I asked incredulously and looked at him. He was pretty disheveled, shirt torn at the hem, hair spiked in all directions. I crossed my arms. "Well, did you have a good roll in the hay?" I quipped. He shook his head. "Nope, I got ambushed by her pimp." He rolled his right shoulder and grimaced. "Guess she was just a shill," he added. The lapel of his leather jacket moved and I could see a large dark stain on his blue shirt. I placed my hand on it. "Are you hurt?" I asked and withdrew my hand. My eyes grew wide. It was wet and red. "Oh my god, is that your blood?" I inquired. "We've got to get you to an ambulance," I continued and reached for my phone, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to his body. "I don't need an ambulance, I'm okay. The blood's not mine," he hissed. Heat radiated off him. His gaze locked with mine and I could feel his breath on my face. Cold blue irises fixed mine and realization dawned upon me. "You killed him?" I whispered and caught my breath. "Not quite." He shook his head.
I breathed deeply and took a step back. He let me go. "Where's your car?" I asked. "Near Le Bon Temps. I walked here." He seemed pretty pent-up. "You want a ride?" I offered. He looked at me with a frown. "Why?" he asked. "Why what?" I returned. "Why would you help me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Can we please talk in the car?" I asked and looked around me. He nodded and followed me without further questions. I opened the doors and he slipped into the passenger seat. I pulled out and headed towards Le Bon Temps. I felt him scrutinize me and his intense gaze raised goose bumps on my skin. "Stop staring, Damon," I finally said. "I'm trying to figure you out," he replied. I rolled my eyes. "You know, somehow I get the feeling that you have a split personality," I said. "The Damon I met last weekend was completely different from the one today." He stared straight on the street. "And what's your conclusion?" he asked. I sighed. "Either you're a real schizo or you have a big skeleton in your closet." A small amused smile played around his lips. He looked at me and took a deep breath. "There are things in my life that I can't talk about," he stated. I glanced at him repeatedly. His chiseled features were tense and his brows furrowed. Something was nagging at him, something he couldn't share. "All right, I won't press," I replied and pulled over to stop near Le Bon Temps. "Thanks for the ride," he said and turned to open the door. "Damon!" He turned back and looked at me. I returned his intense gaze and took one of his hands. His eyes flicked down and back to my face again. "Stay out of trouble, okay?" I asked softly and gave his hand a soft squeeze. His features relaxed a bit and he returned the squeeze gently. He nodded at me before he got out.
I watched him walking down the street and entering his car. He drove off with screeching tires. I waited a couple of minutes before I got out and went over to the bar. Since it was in the middle of the week, it wasn't crowded at all and I made my way to the bar counter. "Good evening, what can I get you?" the bartender greeted me. "Hi, Wild Turkey single barrel. Straight up, please," I replied. I needed alcohol now and for once I didn't care about spending money. "And double it," I added when he fetched the glass. "Quite a choice for a woman," a deep baritone rumbled behind me and I turned around. A tall, well-built African-American stood before me and flashed his teeth at me with a dazzling smile. "May I join you?" he asked. I would've preferred to drink alone, but I didn't want to appear impolite. "It's a free country," I said and pointed to the barstool next to me. He signaled the bartender to give him the same drink. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself," he said and held out his hand. "Joseph Lee, but call me Joe." I took his hand. "Caitlin O'Brien," I replied. He raised his glass. "Cheers," he said. "Cheers," I returned. "I've seen you here before," he continued. "You gave your number to a friend of mine, Damon. Didn't you?" I scrutinized him. "Are you his friend, the bar owner?" I asked, remembering the conversation Cheryl and I've had with Damon two weeks ago. "Yep, the one and only friend he has," he returned. "No surprise," I muttered and sipped at my drink. "Obviously our mutual friend has shown some of his annoying traits," he returned and looked pointedly at me. A mirthless chuckle escaped my lips. "Yeah, you could say that. The biggest ass I've met so far in my life." His expression changed to concern. "Caitlin, why don't we go to my office? I think you might prefer some privacy." I studied his face. He was serious. Well, maybe I could get some information about Damon this way. I nodded and grabbed my glass. He motioned at me to follow him to a room at the rear end of the bar.
The sign at the door said "Manager". Inside there was a large wooden desk and leather furniture. Altogether the office made a very solid impression. "Please, sit down," he said and motioned to the couch. I did and he placed himself in the armchair across from me. "This is a nice location you have here," I said. He inclined his head and raised his glass. "I'm that lucky, yes. Damon told you?" I grimaced. "Well, he sort of mentioned it while intruding a girls' night with my BFF." He grinned. "How do you get along with him?" he asked. I pondered on what to tell him. I tried to keep it simple and held my hand up, counting on my fingers. "Well, let's put it this way: I crossed his path in a park one morning. First, he scared the hell out of me, then he lectured me and let me go. The same night, we meet here by coincidence. Not funny. Last Saturday he took me out, dancing got heated, we kissed and he bolted. Tonight he appeared for a booze-cruise at the bar I work in, took off with a blonde slut and got attacked by her pimp. How's that?" He grimaced. "Ouch, that doesn't sound well," he said and sipped at his drink while he examined me. I shook my head. "I think he's hiding something, but I don't want to press. Hell, right now he probably won't talk to me anyway. It's just …," I hesitated. "What?" Joe asked with perked attention. "His actions seem so damn erratic …," I let my voice trail off. Joe chuckled. "Let me clarify something first: I'm not playing counselor for Damon. In fact, he would kill me if he knew I was talking to you about him. But maybe I can cast some light on his irritating personality." He gave me a wide grin. I had to smile. Exactly what I had hoped for, but I couldn't tell him that. "If that keeps me from killing him one day, go ahead," I replied with a nod.
He laughed a short laugh. "He's been through rough times when he was young and had to cope with a lot of betrayal and rejection in his past." Wow, that was already more than I had asked for, I thought. "He can be a very loyal friend, but he's also a dangerous enemy. It's definitely not a good idea to piss him off seriously." I nodded. "I can imagine that," I returned, thinking about the scene with Tony. "You said he was hurt and betrayed. That wouldn't have anything to do with a woman?" I asked. He scrutinized me. "You're very perceptive, Caitlin. Let's say, he's been seriously in love twice in his life and both women rejected him." I cringed at the thought how much that must've hurt. "Sounds like a traumatic experience," I said and shook my head. He looked very serious. "Yeah, it kinda was. The first one toyed with him and his brother and got between them, splitting them up. The second one was his brother's latest girlfriend. She grew to like him, but finally chose his brother. I guess that broke his heart," he said. "Wait, he and his brother loved the same girl, twice?" I asked surprised. He just nodded. I sat in silence and looked into my glass of bourbon. "That explains quite a few things," I mumbled. "He's not over her yet, isn't he?" He shook his head. "I honestly don't know, Caitlin, but I don't believe it," Joe said softly. I took a deep breath and raised my head. "Well, thanks a lot, Joe. I guess I got more than I asked for," I said. "He's got a stubborn sense of pride, Caitlin, so don't pity him," he warned. I raised an eyebrow at him. "But he's also a player and if you play along, you might get one hell of a ride," he grinned. "I think I better leave now," I said and got up. He walked me to the door. "Tell you what: I'd bet my last dime that he'll contact you again. He's curious," he said with a smile and opened the door. I let my doubts show on my face and turned to leave. "Oh, and Caitlin?" I turned around. "This conversation never happened." He grinned at me.
The next morning I woke up after a night full of fuzzy pictures in my dreams. Bits and pieces, all about Damon, had whirled through my mind, but nothing had made sense. I took a shower and got dressed for the day. The sun was shining and a mild breeze wafted outside. I opened all windows to aerate the house and settled on the rear porch with a cup of coffee. I would be working another late shift today, so I had plenty of time to enjoy the morning sun. I closed my eyes and let the sunrays warm my skin while relaxing on the swing. "Enjoying yourself?" His voice let me bolt upright. "You've gotta stop being so jumpy," he said. "And you've gotta stop scaring me like this," I muttered and looked at him. He leaned to one of the posts and grinned. He looked better this morning, more relaxed and balanced. "I'm sorry," he said. "No, you're not," I retorted and had to grin too. Somehow we seemed to repeat our conversations. I sipped at my coffee and kept my eyes on him. "You gonna stand there forever or join me?" I bantered and tapped on the free spot beside me. I knew I was playing with fire, but I didn't care. He cocked his head and scrutinized me. Then he shrugged. "If you insist," he replied and sat down beside me. "I do." The swing was small and there wasn't much space. He had to place one arm on the backrest behind me.
"Coffee? I swear I didn't spit into it," I said and held up my cup. He accepted with a smile and sipped at it. "Strong," he replied. "Uh huh, I needed it." I took the cup back. "You've gotta work today?" he asked. I just nodded. "Did you kill the man last night?" I asked after a while. He shook his head. "No, I didn't," he said. I cocked my head and looked at him. His eyes stared at me with curiosity. So, maybe Joseph had been right. A thought crossed my mind and I smiled at him. "Would you like breakfast?" I asked. He looked at me with disbelief. "What?" I pressed. "How can you…," he started, but he didn't finish his sentence. "Be kind to you after you've been an ass?" I completed it. "Yeah, something like that," he replied. I shrugged. "Something bothered you and you lashed out. Seems to become your favorite pastime," I returned and sipped at my coffee. His expression changed into wariness. I jumped up and turned to him. "Come on, I make some mean pancakes," I offered and held my hand out. He took it and I pulled him up and with me. I led him into my kitchen and pointed to a chair. "Sit down. Now, what's your favorite pancake?" I asked. He pondered on it. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't had any for many years," he answered. "Then let me surprise you, okay?" I said. "Fine," he replied and leaned back in the chair with crossed arms. I took a frying pan and put it on the stove. While it heated up I sifted white cornmeal into a bowl, mixed it with salt and poured hot water from the electric kettle while constantly stirring it. I could feel Damon's eyes on me all the time and I had to smile. My mom had always made Johnny cakes when my sister or I needed some 'soul food'. When the batter was ready I put it aside and took some fat from the fridge which I had rendered from bacon before. It melted in the pan and I dripped several spoonful of batter into the hot fat. "Would you like them with honey or syrup, Damon?" I asked. "Syrup, please," he replied. "Well, then you might want to get the table set. Plates and cutlery are in the cupboard behind you," I instructed him. "Yes, ma'am," he mocked me, but followed my request.
I dripped the pancakes off on paper towel and put them on a separate plate. Taking the maple syrup from the cabinet I carried both to the table. "Here you are. Enjoy," I said and sat down across from him. He eyed the pancakes curiously and picked one. After pouring syrup on it he took a bite. The change of expression on his face was priceless. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed between bites. "Why, thank you," I replied and smiled at him. He looked like a child munching his favorite dish. After a while he smiled back at me. "Ya know, this tastes like my momma's cookin'," he drawled in exaggerated southern slang. I had to giggle. "If you like these wait 'til you had my grits," I retorted. He pointed his fork at me and declared "If ya grits are as good, I might have to marry you, girl." I collapsed in a fit of laughter on my chair. I laughed so hard, I had to wipe the tears from my eyes. Damon only held out for a little longer before he joined me laughing. It was a liberating sound and he seemed surprised about himself. "You should laugh like this more often, Damon," I bantered. "Guess I should," he replied and collected the dishes. Somehow he looked a lot more relaxed than before. I looked at the clock and realized I was going to be late if I didn't hurry up. "Running late?" he asked, noticing my dismay. "Yeah, I'm afraid I will if I don't hurry up," I replied. "Well, I guess I'll go then," he answered and the taciturn expression was back on his face. "I enjoyed this," I said and smiled at him. He returned the smile. "Yeah, me too. Thanks a lot, Caitlin," he said and turned to leave.
I didn't want him to walk away like this, I realized. I wanted him to have a special memory of this morning. "Damon, wait," I called and he turned around with a questioning look. I walked up to him, as close as I could without touching. "Don't be afraid," I whispered and raised my hand to his cheek. His eyes widened a bit but he held still. Letting my fingers wander to his neck, I gently pulled him down into a kiss. Softly my persistent lips caressed his and I let my tongue gently dance across his lower lip. He opened his mouth and rejoined me in deepening the tender kiss. I had put my arms around him and he pulled me into his embrace, tangling his fingers in my hair. This kiss was very different from last time. It was relaxed, just a slow and lazy exploration of each other's mouth. When I felt a slight change in the tonicity of his arms though, I gently separated my lips from his and smiled at him. "See? All is well," I whispered. He still had his eyes closed as if he was afraid to open them. "Look at me, Damon," I whispered. He took a deep breath and opened them slowly. I almost caught my breath at the raw desire I saw in his blue orbs. His hand caressed my cheek and I tilted my head into it. "Thanks for your company," I said softly and released him from my arms. He smiled at me and stepped back towards the door. Two of our hands still kept contact, as if we couldn't let go of each other. "See you?" I asked. "Soon," he promised and nodded at me before he turned and left.
