Edit: Looks like I managed to confuse a few people with this chapter. Please note that in the last chapter, Damon and Elena had not yet moved to Mystic Falls. They used the Christmas holidays for a trip to Mystic Falls because Elena couldn't wait to see the rebuilt house after learning about it. So the scene where they are in Mystic Falls at the end of last chapter is just a visit.
I apologize if I didn't make it clear enough.
Author's note: This is dedicated to that one person who's almost more enthusiastic about getting this story to 1,000 reviews than I am. You're crazy and I love it/you. :)
Seattle/Mystic Falls | January-February 2023
Elena woke up a few minutes before her alarm rang. She glanced at Damon, still sleeping peacefully next to her, and got out of bed.
It was early, barely 5 o'clock in the morning; but she had to get ready for an early shift at the hospital. There were still several weeks left until the actual move, and Elena intended to work for as long as she could. She was also glad that, so far, she'd been spared the burden of the morning sickness and hoped it would stay that way.
Elena leaned over the bedside of Stevie's crib, checking up on her daughter. This was usually the time when Stevie would wake up for a pre-breakfast nursing. If Elena was lucky, Stevie would sleep for a few minutes longer while her mom took a shower. Elena hurried to do just that.
Stevie was already awake when she finished drying her hair.
Elena gasped and froze in the doorway when she saw her daughter. By grabbing the slats of the crib, Stevie had managed to pull herself up, tall enough so her eyes peeked just about over the top of the rail. Her legs were shaky and her fists gripped the wood so tightly, her knuckles were white and she was staring at her father's sleeping form, not making a sound.
She must have heard Elena's gasp however because Stevie turned towards her mother and grinned happily, spotting her. She released the rail, reaching out for Elena and promptly plonked down onto her butt. That didn't stop her wide grin though.
Elena bent down and picked up her daughter. "Good morning, angel," Elena whispered in her ear. "When did you learn how to do that?" she asked her, keeping her voice low.
Stevie released an excited string of syllables in reply.
Elena glanced back at Damon but he seemed to still be sleeping, so Elena quietly stole away from the bedroom. "Let's go grab breakfast and let Daddy sleep for a little while longer. You can tell me all about your new tricks downstairs, okay?"
Damon wasn't sleeping enough.
Because Elena was pregnant and Damon was an overprotective husband, he insisted on making breakfast every morning for her, no matter if she had an early shift and he'd worked late the night before. So whenever the opportunity presented itself, she tried to slip out before the noise woke him up. Unfortunately, Damon also tended to wake up because Elena was no longer in bed with him – so the tactic was only successful half of the time.
Downstairs, Elena let Stevie drink while she moved about the kitchen. She started the coffee machine and inhaled the scent of the freshly ground beans, mentally counting the days until she would finally be able to have a real coffee again. The decaffeinated kind just wasn't the same. She filled and drank a glass of water while watching the coffee percolate.
That reminded her of something and she pulled her phone out of her pocket to browse for a bean-to-cup coffee machine Damon had mentioned a few times in passing when complaining about the lack of versatility in their standard coffee maker. Elena was going to order one for their house in Mystic Falls to surprise him.
"What do you think of this color?" Elena asked, showing the screen to Stevie.
Stevie paused suckling and just blinked, seeming not to have a strong opinion on that.
"Okay," Elena agreed. "Not black then. Oh, look," she said, holding the screen up again for Stevie to see, "they come in an ivory sort of color as well. That'll go nicely with the kitchen cabinets your dad picked out, don't you think?"
"Da," Stevie replied.
Elena's eyes lit up and she smiled. "Did you just say Da?" Stevie just blinked and Elena said, "Can you say Dada?"
"Da."
"Da-da."
"Da."
"Daaa-da," Elena tried again.
"Da," Stevie said again around a grin.
Elena shrugged one-shouldered and kissed Stevie's cheek. "Close enough."
She tried to offer Stevie her breast again, hoping to entice her to drink some more. Stevie did and Elena used the time to place an order online and arrange a delivery for the day after the move.
Stevie stopped drinking just as Elena was done and the coffee finished running through.
"Already done?" Elena asked her. "That was barely worth waking up for, was it?" Elena bent her head to kiss Stevie's forehead. Recently, Stevie had started drinking less and less and while Elena knew it was normal and happened often when nursing mothers got pregnant again, she was still a little sad about it, too. At least it saved her the drama of weaning Stevie off nursing, she kept telling herself. So, there was that.
"Oh, well," Elena breathed with a sigh and a smile, "I choose to believe you only woke up to say hi to me before I leave for work."
Stevie smiled and said something that sounded like, "Guh-bah," and that was a good enough confirmation for Elena. Elena sat her daughter across her hip and checked the time. She had to get ready really soon, meaning she was going to have to wake up Damon now.
She poured a mug of freshly brewed coffee for him and took it upstairs with her.
Damon blinked drowsily as Elena and Stevie appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
"Where'd you go?" he mumbled.
"We had breakfast downstairs," Elena explained and set down the coffee mug on Damon's bedside table.
"Did you really?" Damon asked, looking at Elena skeptically over the rim of his mug as he took a sip. "Mmmh," he hummed, voice sleep-rough still, "thank you."
"You're welcome."
Elena sat Stevie down on her side of the bed, keeping her entertained with a chewy toy, and crawled over to her husband.
"Did you?" Damon asked.
"Did I what?"
"Have breakfast."
"Oh," Elena said. "I'll grab something from the kiosk before I clock in," she promised.
"Elena…"
"I will. I promise."
"A sandwich or something," Damon admonished. "Not a chocolate bar."
Elena nodded.
"And you'll eat it; not bring it home with you."
"That happened once."
"Twice."
Elena rolled her eyes but agreed, "Yes, I'll eat it. All of it. I'll even pick something healthy to go with it."
"Chips don't count as veggies," he reminded her.
"Strictly speaking—"
"I'm not having this discussion again," Damon stopped her.
Elena demonstratively rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "Fine. An apple then."
"Pics or it didn't happen," Damon mumbled.
Elena laughed and threw a leg across Damon's hips, straddling him.
Damon took another sip from his coffee and set the mug back down. Elena swept in and kissed him, chasing the taste of coffee and Damon. Damon's hands went to her waist, releasing the knot of her bathrobe. Elena's t-shirt that she wore underneath had ridden up, exposing her baby bump and Damon palmed it as he deepened their kiss.
"'Time is it?" he mumbled against her lips before claiming them again.
Elena pulled back an inch and answered the question he was really asking, "Too late to start anything fun."
Damon pouted.
"I'll be on lunch break around 11, however. If you happen to be in the area around that time…" Elena let the sentence drift off.
Damon's pout immediately lifted and made way for a suggestive grin. "Why, Mrs. Salvatore, are you suggesting a good, old-fashioned nooner?"
Elena shrugged. "I don't know what you mean," she replied, "I'm merely offering a private tour of the hospital and its many, many empty beds."
"I'll check if Aunt Dottie wants to play babysitter for an hour."
"You know she hates that name, right?"
Damon just shrugged and grinned, making Elena shake her head.
"Well, if she's not available, Debbie is really, really good with babies. Also, she usually takes her break around the same time I do."
"And they call me shameless," Damon replied with an admiring gaze at his wife.
Elena shrugged innocently and Damon reached up for another kiss.
Before their lips could connect again though, he turned his head. "Hey, come back here," he called out and reached for Stevie's leg to stop her from slipping off the bed's edge. "It's your mom that's leaving. You're staying here."
Stevie smoothly changed her path and crawled towards her father instead. Reaching his side, she used Elena's leg to pull herself up again but only managed to balance on her feet for about two seconds before plopping down onto her behind again.
Damon met Elena's eyes wordlessly.
"Yeah, she does that now," Elena confirmed.
Abandoning the plan of trying to stand up and unaware of her parents' amazed stares, Stevie tried to scale the form of her father using his biceps as a step to climb up onto his chest. Her tiny feet and knobby knees were surprisingly pointy and Damon winced a few times but didn't stop her until she finally, triumphantly, sat in the middle of his chest. She grinned proudly as she sat on top of her dad like a knight who'd just slain a dragon.
Elena chuckled above Damon. Twisting her body around their daughter, Elena leaned down to kiss her husband one last time before kissing Stevie as well and climbing off to get dressed.
"Love you, sweetie," she told her daughter and reminded Damon, "See you around eleven."
"For that good, old-fashioned nooner," Damon confirmed with a nod. "I'll be at your service, doctor." He saluted her.
"Dork," Elena mumbled on a laugh as she let them be.
Damon's last order of business for the day was Bar None or, more to the point, Dot, as he and Stevie entered the bar through the main entrance. Surveying the crowd, Damon motioned to Dot to meet him in the back office.
"Do you want to buy the bar?" Damon asked the moment the door fell close behind the woman.
"Were you a sledgehammer in your previous life?" Dot asked in response.
"Do you?" Damon asked again.
"What? Are you serious?"
"You're here most of the time, even on your days off. You love it as much as I do. I know you'll take good care of it. So, do you want to buy it from me?"
Dot blinked a few times, then sat down, doing some more blinking and processing.
"Uhmm, I don't know?"
"You haven't thought about it before?"
"I didn't realize you were thinking of selling it."
"I didn't realize I was. I wouldn't sell it to just anyone."
"Uhmm," Dot said again.
"What's holding you back?"
There was no point of beating around the bush. With Damon, directness was usually the way to go. "I don't know if I want to stay," Dot admitted.
"Stay where? The bar? The current position?"
"In Seattle."
Damon's brow furrowed in confusion.
"You know my family is spread all across the globe. I've only stayed here for you. I don't have any other attachments here."
"What about Deja?"
"She doesn't either. That's why we've been talking about moving, too, once you and Elena left. There's nothing holding us here besides each other."
"But you would stay? If the bar was yours, I mean?"
Dot shrugged. "I don't hate it here. I'd have to talk to Deja first, of course. But Damon," she said, quieter now, "I wouldn't be able to afford it. I did my research. Before you bought this place, it used to change owners every couple of years and now it's the hotspot in the area. Add to that the increased property prices and it's most likely worth at least twice what you paid, probably more."
Damon shrugged. "Make me an offer and I'll say yes."
Dot narrowed her gaze, challenging him, and wrote down a number.
Damon read it and snorted. "Nope. That's way too much."
It wasn't and they both knew it. Dot sighed. Feeling two pairs of ice-blue eyes on her, she glanced first at Damon, then at Stevie, and wrote down a different number, pushing the notepad back to Damon.
He nodded. "Now, that's more like it."
"For half of it," Dot amended.
Now it was Damon's turn to blink.
"If Deja agrees to stay, you'll give me half of it. And the price is non-negotiable," she added quickly when she saw his mouth open to protest.
Damon pursed his lips, thought for a few moments, then nodded. "Partners."
"Only if—"
"—the wife agrees. Got it," Damon finished for her.
"She's not my wife!"
"Not yet."
Dot stared at him with an expression Damon was very familiar with. It usually meant the other person was mentally going over all the available objects in their vicinity that they could throw at him.
He smirked at her and Dot bristled, "Oh, shut up! And for god's sake don't ever call Deja that in her presence. Jeez!" Dot's cheeks had actually reddened, Damon noted with interest.
Damon grinned and mock-whispered into Stevie's ear, "That means she's thought about it."
Dot grabbed the bar mop she had tucked into her belt loop and threw it at Damon who ducked and laughed. Stevie screamed with delight, thinking it was a game.
Dot threw both hands in the air and sobbed dramatically. "Please, I'm begging anyone who's listening, please give this child her mother's sensibility and discretion. Because god knows the world can't deal with another Damon."
"Oh, look, honey. We've made Aunt Dottie believe in a higher power. Good job!" He held up one of Stevie's hands and gave her a high five.
Dot looked on, unamused.
"Look what I found," Elena said, coming out of the walk-in closet.
Damon looked up and grinned, recognizing the shoebox in her hands. "We haven't really gotten much use out of it yet, have we?"
"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Elena asked.
"Depends on your perspective, I think."
"Well, we won't be able to do half the things in there for the next decade or so," Elena pointed out.
Damon scoffed. "Nonsense. I happen to know a certain vampire who's just dying to babysit once we're back in the same time zone as her."
Elena eyed him through squinted eyes. "You plan on taking full advantage of that, don't you?"
Damon's shit-eating grin was only outdone by the glint in his eyes. "You bet your ass I am."
Elena replied with a smile and turned towards the box she was packing.
"Hey," Damon stopped her, "before you pack it away, pick an envelope."
"Why?"
"Because we're trying to manage a move, a second baby, and a shit ton of other things and I'm guessing the next few weeks if not months or gonna be wild and we need to take our time-outs where we can. So, let's have one last one before we close the Seattle chapter."
Elena pursed her lips, thinking; then her eyes lit up with an idea. She dove into the box and started going through the small envelopes, peeking inside each one.
Damon watched her for a few moments and asked, "Are you looking for something particular?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of them being in an envelope?"
"I'm pregnant. Indulge me," Elena shrugged carelessly.
Damon tried to bite down on his grin. "Funny how you always play the pregnant card when it fits the agenda of the day."
"It's because I'm pregnant. I get to choose when I play the pregnant card," Elena explained.
"Learn from your mother, kid," Damon spoke to the child in Elena's belly, "That's some infallible logic right there."
Elena smiled sunnily and nodded. "Uh-huh. I thought so too." She presented him with the envelope she picked.
Damon took it, still holding eye contact. Elena's were glinting mischievously. He unfolded the paper and glanced down to read. A wide smile spread across his face. "I love the way your mind works."
Elena excessively fluttered her eyelashes at the compliment and Damon slipped the small paper into his front pocket.
Close the bar early for a private party.
Damon's eyes almost rolled back in his head as Elena's teeth traced a path along his neck. Trying to keep his wits about him, he turned a little, side-eying the monitor on the counter. "Maybe a babysitter would have been a better idea," he panted between Elena's delicious attacks.
She paused and pulled back a little, looking him in the face. "She's fine," Elena told him, glancing at the same monitor Damon was staring at. "We have sound, we have picture. We'll know if she needs us."
"The picture is grainy," Damon complained.
Elena grabbed his face and forcibly turned it towards her. She wet her lips slowly, not because she needed to but because she wanted to know if she had his attention. His eyes followed the motion hungrily and Elena was satisfied. "Listen to me," she said. "Our daughter is fine. She is happy and asleep upstairs in her very safe bed and is not going to make a sound for at least another four to five hours. Her mom on the other hand," Elena pointedly added, "would very much appreciate it if you could make her scream for at least… mmh, let's say half that time. Are you game or do I need to—"
Damon surged in, cutting off her line mid-question, his tongue invading her mouth. It only took Elena a second to react and return the kiss with the same heat. She pushed her hands into Damon's hair to pull him closer. His hands grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her onto the bar's counter.
Elena didn't waste a second; she pulled off her oversized, off-the-shoulder sweater and leaned back on her arms while Damon went to undo the button on her jeans. Glancing up at his wife, Damon halted in his tracks. His fingers itched to take out his phone and start snapping pictures. With her hair loose and slightly mussed and lips very obviously kiss-swollen, clad only in a black bra, she looked like a supermodel in an elaborate setting. The unbuttoned fly of her pants beckoned with the peek at her underwear and Damon's mouth watered. Roughly pulling down the material, he dove between her legs, making Elena release a surprised sound.
The first of many that night.
Damon and Elena weren't really the kind of couple to celebrate Valentine's Day, especially not while still living among unpacked boxes, having moved back to Mystic Falls a short while ago. Every day some piece of furniture or appliance was being delivered, some shelf or desk or cupboard still missing that kept them from finishing unpacking. And even so, Damon didn't like to see Elena lift anything heavier than a book, despite the fact that she had explained to him repeatedly that she was totally fine.
So, under normal circumstances, Valentine's Day would have been spent quietly at home, navigating between boxes and stray toys. And while they were home, it was definitely not quiet. Stefanie was teething and no amount of chewy toys, cooling, or soothing seemed to help. Her sleep pattern shot completely, she cried and fussed a lot, and ran a slight fever. And she was clingy; whenever anyone tried to set her down, her whimpers and whines turned into full-fledged, eardrum-shattering wailing.
As much as he could, Damon tried to give Elena some space and quiet who was exhausted from the move and from nursing a baby while being pregnant and halfway through her second trimester, and all of it less than a year after giving birth.
As evening turned into night and Stevie continued to whinge, Damon took her out of Elena's arms and went downstairs, telling Elena to get some sleep.
He rocked Stevie gently and replaced her teething ring with a fresh one from the fridge. "I know, baby girl," he cooed sympathetically, "you're annoyed and cranky – and you have every right to be. Some days just suck. But I promise you it'll get better."
She didn't seem to be overly mollified by his reassurances. Damon couldn't really remember when the last time was that he'd slept. He hoped he could hold on for a little longer, to give Elena a chance of a few hours of rest. Gently rocking his cranky daughter, he walked up and down the room in an effort to stay awake. Eventually, he let his body sag onto the nearest available surface which turned out to be the piano bench. The instrument had been delivered earlier that day from the former Salvatore Mansion – an early housewarming present from his sister-in-law. Damon hadn't even had the time yet to test whether it needed to be tuned. Adjusting the hold on Stevie in his left arm, he lifted the lid and idly stroked the keys. An old lullaby came to mind, one of the first pieces he'd learned to play, and he let his mind wander, allowing his fingers to remember the long-forgotten melody.
Halfway through the song, he noticed that Stevie hadn't moved once since he had begun tinkling with the keys. Neither had she made a sound, the teething toy hanging forgotten in her fist. "You liked that, huh?" he asked his daughter who stared at Damon's fingers resting on the black and white keys.
Damon pulled a padded chair closer and sat Stevie down in it, draping a blanket over her. She grouched, about to release another unhappy wail. But she fell silent as soon as Damon's fingers returned to the ivories. Damon smiled and searched his mind for a melody he could play from memory. He settled on a Nocturne by Chopin that he'd played many times before and knew by heart and watched his daughter as her mouth fell open and her eyes fell close and Damon breathed a sigh of relief. She had finally fallen asleep.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, he picked her up and found a comfortable spot on the sofa, laying down with Stevie sprawled across his chest. He spread a blanket over both of them and finally succumbed to sleep.
Damon woke up to gentle fingers stroking the hair from his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he met Elena's soft gaze. She was kneeling by the head of the sofa and smiled gently when he came awake. "Mornin'," he mumbled. "Is it morning?"
She nodded. "It is. Why didn't you come back to bed last night?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"Didn't want to wake you. Did you sleep?"
She nodded again. "How did you manage to get her to fall asleep?" she asked with a nod towards the still dozing Stefanie.
"I," Damon drawled with a smug smile, "discovered the secret weapon."
Elena chuckled. "Yeah? What is it?"
"I'll show you later," Damon promised.
Elena stretched a little and pressed her lips to Stevie's temple. "I think the fever has gone down a little." She adjusted the throw blanket over the baby and glanced down when she felt Damon's hand on her belly.
"And how's this one doing?" Damon asked.
"He's quiet, as usual." Damon didn't comment on the fact that Elena had referred to the baby as 'he' even though they didn't yet know if it was; had, in fact, decided that they didn't want to know. But Elena was convinced it was a boy, and Damon simply didn't care – he was happy, no matter the baby's gender, as long as it and its mother were okay.
"Wanna climb up here with us?" Damon asked and scooted closer to the backrest to make room for Elena. His movement woke Stefanie who started fidgeting. But Elena stretched out beside Damon and stroked her palm up and down her back, lulling her back to sleep.
It was a tight fit on the sofa, with Damon on his back and Elena's protruding belly, but Damon slung an arm around his wife to prevent her from slipping off. Elena pushed her face into Damon's neck and whispered, "Does it make me a terrible mother if I say that I miss you?" She didn't have to explain that she meant she missed their alone time, the nights spent up wrapped in each other instead of curled around a baby. She knew he understood.
Damon smiled with closed eyes. "Does it make me a terrible dad if I say yes, but I still love to hear it?"
Elena propped her head up on one elbow, turning serious. "You're an amazing father, Damon."
"Even though I, too, sometimes fondly think back to how things used to be before?"
"You do?"
"Why does that surprise you?"
"Because I absolutely meant what I said: you really are an amazing dad. Perfect, honestly. You're selfless, and generous, and you never lose your patience even when you're running on zero sleep and I've been emotional and cranky and Stevie's been crying for hours non-stop and we keep tripping over unpacked boxes."
"Well, first of all, she's a baby and they're entitled to having bad days too. But it's not like she can tell us what's wrong, so she cries. Why would anyone lose their patience because of that?"
"See? That's exactly what I mean. You're all… patient and… insightful and…"
Damon chortled. "And I admit, sometimes, when I hold her after she's been crying for what feels like hours and has no intention to stop, I imagine how amazing it would be to turn back time, just for a little while, and to go and stretch out beside you and wrap you up in my arms and just enjoy the silence." Damon pressed his lips to Elena's forehead, eyes falling close for a moment. "But then—"
"But then you look at her perfect face or her perfect tiny fist or her perfect smile and you think, not for all the riches in the world would you ever trade this moment," Elena finished for him because she knew the feeling well.
"Exactly," Damon breathed.
They stared quietly into each other's eyes until Elena nestled her head back onto Damon's shoulder again, her eyes falling onto their sleeping child. Except, Stevie wasn't sleeping anymore. Her eyes were open and she gazed up at her parents. Elena smiled at her. "Good morning, angel."
Stevie lifted her head, returning Elena's smile with a big one of her own, tiny palms drumming on Damon's chest in happy excitement. She tried crawling over onto Elena but Damon quickly snatched her up before she had a chance to jump onto Elena's belly. Stevie protested being denied her mother's arms but Elena hurried to sit up and pulled her onto her lap before the protests could develop into wails.
Damon sat up too, groaning at finally being able to change positions after so many hours. Once he stretched sufficiently, he asked, "Breakfast?"
"In a little while," Elena replied. "I want to try nursing her first while she's still in a good mood. Maybe she'll drink now."
"Then I'll go grab a quick shower in the meantime."
Elena nodded at him and Damon turned towards the stairs. He looked back before he disappeared and watched with a smile on his face as Elena kept up a serious discussion with the baby while changing her diaper and Stevie responded with a set of giggles at every pause. His girls. No, no matter how fervently he wished sometimes, he wouldn't give up this life for anything.
When he came back down again, freshly showered and dressed, he found Elena nursing Stevie. "What interesting concoction for breakfast did your pregnancy brain come up with today?" he asked his wife because her cravings were as unpredictable and unappetizing with this baby as they were while she'd been pregnant with Stevie.
"Eggs?" Elena replied and Damon startled at the too normal request. The next moment Elena winced and bit her lip.
"What's wrong?" Damon asked with concern. "Is the baby kicking?"
"No, it's just," Elena replied. "Let's say I can really feel her new teeth now." As if to emphasize, she winced again at Stevie's enthusiastic suckling.
Damon sank down next to Elena on the couch. Stroking a hand over Stevie's head, he said, softly, "Hey, little bug. Can you try and be gentle with Mommy?"
Stevie stopped suckling and looked at Damon, her huge eyes blinking up at him. He smoothed a palm over her head again and whispered, "You're probably really excited by your new chewing tools, I get it. But we're not going to use them on Mommy, okay?"
As if she understood and, more importantly, agreed, Stevie grinned wide and Damon could clearly see the pearly white of two front teeth that had just cut through the gums. She went back to suckling Elena's breast a moment later and Elena held her breath, expecting the sharp sting. It didn't come.
Elena and Damon shared a look.
"Lucky coincidence," Elena said.
Damon acted affronted. "You clearly underestimate the power I have over Gilbert women."
But coincidence or not, Stevie didn't give her mother any more reason to wince in pain.