A/N: For everyone who wanted more kids interactions in this story. (Hattie, where you at, girl?)
Mystic Falls | June – September 2035
"Is everything alright at home?" Elena asked.
"I'm sure it is," Damon replied, glancing at his watch. It was almost dinner time.
"Can you give them a call. Please? For me?"
Damon rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Like he would ever say no to Elena. Especially when she was having contractions. They'd been at the hospital for the better part of the day, but baby number five was taking its sweet time.
Elena cringed as she felt another contraction coming and Damon never got used to this feeling of helplessness. He would happily switch places with her if it meant he wouldn't have to watch his wife cry out in pain.
"I'm okay," Elena said when the wave of pain had passed. "Go. Call the kids. Tell them everything's fine. They're probably worried."
Damon nodded and left the room. He stopped at a vending machine and dialed his home landline while waiting for his coffee.
Stevie answered on the first ring.
"Is Mom okay?" Stevie asked, not bothering with a greeting.
"Mom is fine," Damon replied. "Still in labor. How are things at home?"
Stevie sighed. "I lost sight of the twins for a little while which worried me, but they returned with all their limbs intact, so I guess the loud bang I heard from the tool shed in the garden had nothing to do with them."
"Loud bang?"
"Did I say loud? I meant medium. Medium bang."
"Uh-huh," Damon replied. He grabbed his coffee from the machine, took a sip, burned his tongue, and swore under his breath.
"I'm sure it was nothing," Stevie hurried to add.
"No," Damon answered, "this last bit was directed at the coffee," he explained. "In all seriousness though – you all doing okay?"
Stevie switched into non-joking mode and reported, "Yes. Noah has been playing video games all day, only pausing to feed his pets." He was nursing several birds, a stray cat with a broken tail, and a squirrel. "The twins are a bit subdued today. I think they worry about Mom being gone so long. I tried to explain to them that it's normal. I'm not sure if they believed me, though. I had Anoush over for a while. We made cookies. Her mom picked her up about an hour ago and I've been mostly reading since."
"Thanks, angel," Damon replied, thanking her for both, the update and for being an amazing big sister. He paused, "You made cookies?"
"Okay, Ana did most of the work. I mostly pointed at where things are and passed spoons and measuring cups as required."
Damon chuckled. That sounded more like the daughter he knew. Speaking of food, "Hey, I think I left my wallet on the entrance hall table in all the commotion this morning."
He heard Stevie's bare feet slap on the tiled floor through the phone as she made her way over there. "Yep," she confirmed, "it's right here."
"Grab a couple of twenties," Damon instructed, "and order, I don't know, a couple pizzas or something for dinner."
"Pizza?" Stevie exclaimed in surprise. "You think Tavi and Bennett are going to eat pizza?"
"Right," Damon breathed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair.
Before he could come up with another suggestion, Stevie cut in, "It's okay, Dad. I called Carlos and he's having Jamie deliver a plate of sushi for the twins and burgers for Noah and me." Carlos was the chef Damon had hired for one of his restaurants in town.
"Smart girl," Damon replied.
"Yep," Stevie agreed. "Dad? I'm still keeping the twenty."
"Of course you are." Damon smiled and promised to keep her updated before hanging up.
"Was that Mom?" Noah asked as he came down the stairs.
"Dad," Stevie replied and added, "no, the baby's not there yet, but they're okay." She sounded distracted and Noah walked around her to peer at her face.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know," Stefanie said. "I just found this in Dad's wallet."
She held up a folded piece of paper. It looked old, the edges worn.
"What is it?"
"Some kind of note. It's from a woman."
"So?" Noah shrugged.
"Why would Dad hide a note that obviously came from a woman if the lipstick mark was any indication."
"It's probably Mom's."
Stevie was annoyed with how little concern Noah seemed to show.
"Then why is he hiding it? Why is there no name on the note?"
Noah snorted. "What? You think Dad's cheating on Mom? You're ridiculous." When she still looked stricken, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the face. "I want you to think really hard now. This is Dad you're talking about. Dad! Half the time I'm convinced he doesn't even realize that other women exist."
"I know," Stevie said, miserably. "But what if—"
She broke off when the doorbell rang and Noah went to answer it. The food had arrived. Not delivered by Jamie, as expected, but by Kareem, Anoush's dad who asked if they were doing okay. After Noah exchanged a few words with him, he closed the door, arms laden with bags and bags of food. He turned and found Stevie chewing her lip, still holding that piece of paper.
Noah rolled his eyes. "Just do your witchy thing," he said, wiggling his fingers as best he could with the food piled high in his arms.
"My powers don't work like that," Stevie replied. She could read people. People were easy. This was an inanimate object. There were no thoughts or auras gained from it.
"Have you tried?" Noah replied with a raised eyebrow.
Stevie scowled at him but placed her palm on top of the note, holding it between her hands. She closed her eyes and concentrated. For the first few moments nothing happened. Then, suddenly, her shoulders dropped and a pout appeared on her face. "Oh," she said, sounding almost disappointed. "It's Mom's."
Noah snorted again. "Told ya."
"Eww," Stevie suddenly exclaimed, stuffing the piece of paper hurriedly back into her dad's wallet and dropping the thing on the table like it were contagious. Noticing her brother's questioning glance, she explained, "Pictures. Pictures in my head." She shook her whole body and said with a pitiful expression, "Our parents are so weird, Toto."
She lifted some of the bags that Noah carried and stalked away towards the dining room, visibly shuddering again as she tried to get rid of whatever she had seen in her head. Yeah, right, Noah thought watching her go, their parents were the weird ones. He shook his head and stopped at the foot of the stairs.
"Food's here," he yelled, summoning the twins.
"I don't want pizza," Bennett and Octavia called down at the same time as Noah yelled, "It's not pizza." They all finished at the same time, the word pizza ringing in stereo through the house.
A short while later, as he watched his siblings quibble over who got the extra extra wasabi while trying to steal it from each other's plates, he couldn't help but roll his eyes again. "Weird appears to be a genetic trait in this family," he mumbled. "Thank God it somehow skipped me."
"Right," Stevie replied, sniggering. Her eyes slid to the box of birds craning their necks, waiting to be fed by Noah. "You're perfectly normal. Dr. Doolittle."
It was late and Damon debated whether he should call and risk waking up his kids. In the end, he texted Stefanie who called back immediately.
"Is she there? Is Mom okay?" Stevie asked, foregoing a greeting. "It's a she, right? I was right, wasn't I?"
"Yep," Damon replied. "On all counts. As usual."
"I'm awesome."
Damon grinned into the phone. "Why aren't you in bed?" It was after midnight, after all.
"Was waiting for you to call."
"Everything all right at home?"
"Yep. Didn't your spies tell you?"
"My spies?" Damon asked back.
"Uncle Jer?"
"Okay, you got me. I asked him to stop by and check up on you."
"And Ana's dad?"
"Kareem stopped by?" Damon wondered aloud.
"Yeah. I thought for sure you must have sent him when he was the one to deliver the food instead of Jamie."
"Nope. Wasn't me." He had let his manager know not to call today and let him know why. Kareem had probably taken it upon himself to make sure the kids were alright by themselves. "Who else stopped by?"
"Miss Downing from across the street. And Aunt Bonnie called a couple of times, asked if she and Uncle Enzo should come over. I told them they didn't have to. We managed fine on our own. I made sure everybody ate, brushed their teeth, and went to sleep in their own beds and more or less on time. Tavi and Ben put up a fight, but I bribed them by promising ice-cream for breakfast."
"What?"
"It's cool. Now they love me and do everything I say."
Damon remained silent, frowning into the phone even though Stevie couldn't see him.
"I'm kidding, Dad. Relax."
"You should go to bed, too," Damon suggested.
"In a minute. Hey, Dad?" she called out before he could hang up. "I found a note in your wallet. I wasn't snooping; it just fell out when I grabbed the money. But I read it."
"A note? Oh," he remembered, "the get out of jail free card." He hadn't thought of it in so long. "Your mother gave that to me uhm…" He tried to remember. "Well, a long time ago. You weren't even a blip on our radar back then. What about it?"
"Nothing. Just. I read it. I'm sorry."
Damon had the impression that she was apologizing for more than that, but he couldn't think of what it might be. But it seemed important to her, so he said, "It's all good. Don't worry about it."
"Love you, Dad."
"Love you, too, angel. Tell Noah to turn off his videogame and go to bed. And then go to sleep as well."
"I will. Mom is really okay?" she asked one more time.
"She's good. Sleeping now. You can all come see her in the morning. And meet your new sister."
"Okay," Stevie agreed. "Night."
"Night."
"You were right."
Damon brightened. "I usually am. About what exactly?"
"Her. She was the missing piece." Elena looked at her children, all their attention focused elsewhere as four heads bent over a tiny little baby. They all huddled together, taking turns holding her. And low-key fighting over who got to name her.
"So," Elena said, taking his hand, "Does it feel complete now?"
Damon nodded and smiled. "Yeah," he breathed. Leaning down, he kissed her briefly.
"I'm glad," Elena replied with a tranquil smile. Then the smile slipped into her all-business one. "Because you're getting a vasectomy."
"What?"
She nodded. "I talked to the nurse. They can schedule you in tomorrow. It's a very minor procedure. You'll be in and out within one hour, if that."
Damon grimaced, his shoulders sagged, but he nodded. "Fair enough," he grumbled. He climbed onto the hospital bed beside Elena and they leaned their heads together, watching their children on the other side of the room. They caught snippets of their kids' conversation here and there. Broken off pieces like, "She doesn't look like a Charlotte" and "Boston? That's a city, not a name for a baby," followed by, "She won't be a baby forever." It continued in a similar fashion for another couple of minutes until Damon cut in.
"Who said you lot even get a vote? I don't remember having that conversation."
"You like Tavi's name and Noah and I came up with that one," Stefanie pointed out in response with a smug grin.
Octavia stared at her older siblings with all the indignation of a six-year-old. Hands on her hips and eyes narrowed, her stance an accusatory, 'I have you to thank?' Whenever she introduced herself to a new friend, she was invariably met with an intimidated gaze. That was usually the point where she would sigh and say, 'Just call me Tavi.'
"We can collect all the suggestions and then put them up for a vote," Bennett offered.
"Or," Damon replied, "we let your mother decide. She never actually got to name any of you brats."
Elena suddenly realized that Damon was right. Octavia was obviously Stevie's and Noah's choice; Noah was Damon's pick; Bennett and Stefanie were a nod to their namesakes that she happily went along with because they fit perfectly. She also found that she didn't mind. It had worked out perfectly before.
"Okay," Elena called out from the bed and clapped her hands, making herself heard over the voices talking over each other. "Here's what we're gonna do. Everyone pick a name, write it on," she glanced around and grabbed the hospital notepad from the nightstand, "a piece of paper and fold it. Put it in there," Elena pointed at the hat on Tavi's head.
"Can I be the one to draw it from the hat?" Stevie asked and everyone else bellowed, "No!"
Noah summed up what everyone was thinking, "You'll just use your freaky powers to cheat." He just said that to rile Stevie up. He didn't really think her powers were freaky.
But Stefanie didn't deny anything. She just shrugged. "Just as well. I already know what it's going to be."
Bennett pulled his sister's hat from her head and went around the room, collecting the scraps of paper with everyone's name picks on them. He held the hat out towards Noah so he could draw, but he had his hands full with the new baby, so Bennett reached in and pulled out a folded piece. Everyone held their breath as he unfolded it and read, "Emory."
"Whose pick was that?" Noah asked.
Elena smiled and quietly replied, "Mine."
"We can tack on all your other picks as middle names," Damon suggested. It wasn't like there was going to be another baby that they could use the remaining names on next. That was how it came to be that the tiniest of them all ended up with the longest name: Emory Adaline Charlotte Kaylee Salvatore.
"That's only three," Elena counted. "There's two missing."
"No, it's not," Noah said, "One paper just says, 'Whichever your mom picks' and 'Emmy' is too similar to 'Emory' so we decided to leave that one out."
Everybody turned to look at Stevie. She bristled and said, "I told you I knew what it was going to be. How am I supposed to know that the name I was getting was the nickname?"
The kids barreled into the room, already back from the cafeteria where Damon had sent them to get some food. They had spent the whole day in the hospital with their parents and could barely be convinced to leave their new sister's side. They must have wolved down their food, because they hadn't been gone for barely more than 20 minutes.
"You'll learn quickly. I was six too when you and Ben came along," Noah told his younger siblings as he showed his sister how to pick up the baby and correctly support its head.
"Two minutes," Bennett said, looking at the clock on the wall. "Then I get to hold her."
Damon glanced wordlessly at Elena.
She shook her head in dismay. "She is going to be so spoiled," Elena complained.
A few months later
Stefanie let the door fall shut behind her and paused in the entryway. Something was off. She smelled the air and immediately rolled her eyes. As if she would actually be able to smell whatever was wrong. It wasn't how her powers worked. And though she didn't understand exactly how they did, a heightened sense of smell certainly wasn't part of it.
She tried to explain to herself what exactly felt wrong about their home tonday, but could only come so close to describe the unnamable feeling. It compared to putting your shirt on wrong – the front side to the back. It just sat weirdly on your shoulders. Only, it wasn't a shirt, suddenly it was your skin that somehow didn't feel right.
Stefanie cocked her head sideways and listened, but all was quiet.
Too quiet.
A house with five kids was never quiet. Not when one of said kids was a few months old baby that liked constant attention, another a pair of six-year-old twins whose brains were constantly cooking up The Next Money-Making Idea™ (Noah might have been the one to inherit their dad's looks, but the twins certainly got his business sense and lemonade stands were for four-year-olds, thank you very much), not to forget her brother Noah and his plethora of rescued animals, and last but not least Stevie herself – a teenager who was still in the process of getting a handle on her powers while trying to figure out the extent of them. And speaking of – let's not forget the parents who most of the time barely acted older than teenagers themselves. Though, admittedly, not so much anymore as of late.
Noah walked into the room from the direction of the kitchen, a humongous stack of waffles on his plate and a raven on his shoulder.
"What happened here?" Stef asked.
Noah, mouth full, looked around, questions in his eyes. The raven seized the opportunity and stole a piece of waffle from the plate. His name was Steve. And no, Stevie did not find it funny at all.
She twirled her finger in the air to indicate the whole situation but Noah only shrugged, not understanding what she meant. She sighed. "Have Mom and Dad been fighting again?"
Noah's eyes went wide with an 'Ahh' of understanding and he nodded.
"What about this time?" Stef asked, resigned.
Her brother, having finally swallowed, grinned. "Guess."
"It wasn't about who put the bottle warmer up on the top shelf again, was it?"
"Nope. Guess again."
"Who slept worse last night?" Stevie guessed again.
Noah shook his head. His grin widened which meant it must have been something even more ridiculous.
"Noah, I'm not in the mood. Just tell me."
"Apparently," Noah explained, "Mom texted Dad and told him she wanted pancakes and Dad made them for her."
"Ooookay," Stefanie drawled. Clearly, she was missing something.
"But, get this," Noah continued. "She actually meant waffles. She just mistyped or something. And obviously Dad was supposed to realize that."
Stefanie blinked plainly at her brother and the stack of waffles on his plate. "I have a feeling that's not the end of the story."
"Heh-heh. So, Dad starts a batch of waffles and Mom flips out completely."
"Why?" Her dad rarely ever said no to their mom. It was a problem. Until you learned how to use it to your advantage and then it was awesome. And, yes, all the kids learned how to use that particular superpower very early on.
"Because he already made pancakes and it's wasteful. And he shouldn't cater to all her wishes. Or something like that. I wasn't listening."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Nope," Noah replied and took another massive bite of his waffle stack.
"They've lost it completely now."
"Yep," Noah said with his mouth full.
Stevie ignored his very obvious amusement. "We have to do something."
"Why?" Noah whined.
"Because they're driving each other mad."
"But it's funny."
Stefanie had to grudgingly agree. To a spectator it was funny. The more frequent their parents' fights had grown, the more absurd they'd gotten.
Last night, before dinner, her mom had yelled, "I love you but I want to strangle you right now," kissed her dad quick and hard on the mouth and stormed out of the kitchen, throwing the door shut behind her. But their doors were soft-close and her mother's retreating voice rang through the house, "Dammit, why can't we have doors that slam?" Her dad had rubbed a hand across his face, but Stevie saw the grin he had been hiding underneath. She didn't even remember what they were fighting about. She doubted very much her parents could remember either.
Everyone knew of course what the problem was. Everyone, that was, except her parents.
Ever since Emory was born, they hadn't had an evening to themselves.
Before, they had Aunt Caroline that always volunteered to babysit so they could have some time to themselves. But she was gone now. Aunt Bonnie lived close to the Whitmore campus which was decidedly closer than the opposite side of the country, but still almost two hours away. And Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Claire were out of the question because they had their own kids and jobs to take care of.
"I hope you haven't made any plans with your friends this weekend," Stevie said to her brother.
His shoulders sagged. "You're gonna make me babysit our baby sister, aren't you?" he dry-sobbed dramatically.
"Come on, I'll need help."
"Okay," Noah said and hung his head. "But if we end up with another brother or sister nine months from now, it'll be your fault."
Stevie cringed, but nodded.
Two days later Elena came home from work to a suspiciously quiet house. Figuring, Damon was probably out walking the baby, she stopped by Stefanie's room and then Noah's, only to find both empty. The twins were gone too. Elena frowned. Was it possible they had all joined Damon? But then she heard the shower run from the master bedroom and went to check out the noise.
"Damon?" she called out. The door to the bathroom stood ajar and steam billowed out.
"Oh, hey," he replied, sticking his head out from behind the frosted glass.
"What's going on? Where is everyone?" She hated the sound of her own voice, the accusation in it. She regretted the way she'd said it as soon as the words were out. She did that a lot lately – regretting the words she spoke but unable to stop them.
"Bed."
"What?"
"The answer's on the bed."
She wondered if he hated his curt answers the way she did her snappish tone. Irritated with herself and him now, Elena frowned but turned around. That's when she finally spotted a familiar box laying in the middle of the bed, a piece of paper next to it. Elena picked it up to read.
Hi Mom, hi Dad,
This is to inform you that your two oldest children kidnapped your youngest progeny and temporarily disposed of the ones in the middle, all in an effort to grant you some alone time.
A messy crawl on the side, clearly in Noah's handwriting, said,
Kidding. The twins are at Uncle Jer's and will spend the night there.
Elena continued reading Stefanie's message:
Pick an envelope (or several, Noah's crawl inserted underneath the line) and pretend you have no kids. Don't worry about Em; N. and I got it handled. And don't you dare call us! We'll call you, if we need you. But we won't, so don't wait for the phone to ring.
Enjoy your evening off. See you tomorrow.
Love,
Your very annoyed but perfectly capable children
Elena's mouth turned into a reluctant smile. She sat down and pulled the shoebox onto her lap. Years ago, when Stevie had wanted to play dress up, Elena had allowed her to ransack her closet. Stevie found the box and opened it, expecting to find shoes. Instead, she found dozens and dozens of envelopes. Elena had told her back then what they were.
"Have our kids just sent us into time-out?" she asked when Damon stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel.
"Well, I certainly didn't put them up to it, if that was what you were going to suggest next," Damon returned. His eye twitched as though he, too, regretted his knee-jerk reaction.
Where was this constant passive-aggressiveness coming from? Why were they both so quick to flare up and go off on each other?
She looked up and opened her mouth to say… something. And then she looked, really looked at her husband. Water droplets were slipping from his hair and cascading down his shoulders and naked torso, the towel slung so low on his hips, Elena expected it to drop any second.
A dizzying wave of longing swept over her, making her almost light-headed. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe because her brain clearly needed oxygen. When she opened them again, Damon had come closer. He didn't say a word, just looked at her silently.
Minutes passed as they both stared at each other until Elena felt the need to break the silence.
"I… I need a shower…" she began and motioned to herself. She was still wearing her doctor's scrubs and coat. She got up, but before she could take another step, Damon grabbed her and dragged her into the shower. He pushed into her space till she was pressed against the wet tiles and he was pressed against her.
His mouth moved furiously on hers and she managed to gasp, "Damon," before his tongue was inside, robbing her of breath and speech.
For a tiny moment she felt her body resisting before everything inside her crumbled and she sagged into his arms. This. This was what had been missing. It had simply been, "Too long," Damon pressed into her skin, echoing her thoughts.
Elena pushed one hand in his hair, roughly grabbing a fistful. She jerked his head back, attacking his chin and neck with tiny bites while her other hand went to his towel and snatched it away. Water poured from the multiple shower heads, drenching Elena's scrubs and Damon's discarded towel on the floor.
He pulled on her clothes but they wouldn't come off easily, so he grabbed the lapels of her shirt and tore at them violently, grimly enjoying the tearing sound as the stitches ripped open while Elena worked the wet and resisting material of her pants down her legs. Once they were gone, Damon grabbed her thighs and pulled them around himself and Elena reached up for the metal bar above her head.
As always and despite her brain focused completely on Damon, she flashed to the first time she noticed the handy installment.
Damon had rebuilt the house and several rooms as well as the general layout had been adjusted or added to according to his specifications. Some were necessary simply because this house was now more than double the size of its original; others because Damon had a certain taste and it was reflected in the transformation. She'd loved the changes, but walking through the house for the first time she was too overwhelmed to take in every little thing.
The add-on in the shower stall registered much, much later, after they had moved in. She had noticed the bar before of course. But in a way one notices such things only in the back of one's mind. Like cleverly placed design elements that perfectly completed a picture without being obtrusive, without making you think about them. If she had, she might have wondered why it was there – too high to be of practical use, too close to the water spray to be a towel rack.
The realization came later – the first time Damon went down on her in the shower. Instinctively, she had reached up, not expecting to find something to latch on to. As if showers were not meant to have sex in, which, if you asked Elena, was a completely ridiculous notion. So it came as a pleasant surprise when her searching hands found a solid grip along a metal bar, perfectly positioned just above her head. As if someone had put it there for that very purpose. Which, of course, someone had.
Elena gripped it now, as Damon hitched her hips up further, finding the perfect angle and sliding home. A shudder ran through Elena, followed by a wave of heat quickly spreading through her whole body.
Damon moved, head burrowed in her neck. Elena's chin rested on top of his head as he jerked his hips against her. She clutched him with her legs, not giving him much room to maneuver, but not able to let him go. She was embarrassed to admit how much she needed it, needed him. And even more embarrassed to realize that not being close to him like that for the past several months, had turned her into a person she barely recognized.
Feeling Damon plastered to every bit of her, she finally felt like herself again.
Trusting Damon to hold up her weight, she brought her hands down and buried them in his hair, pulling his face up. They shared a quick and meaningful eye contact before she took his lips in a storm.
Half panting, half kissing, she whimpered into their open mouths, "More. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease—"
Damon doubled his efforts and her litany of words turned into moans and grunts.
"Never… gonna… go… this… long… without… again." He punctuated each word with a forceful slam of his hips and Elena nodded, head hitting the tiles behind her. She didn't care. Her world had narrowed down to the man in her arms and that was all that counted.
Some twenty minutes later, Elena finally turned off the shower. They stepped out, but stayed close. Damon helped dry her off while she rubbed a fresh towel through his hair. Small touches lingered her and there and every couple of seconds the impulse to press their lips in a chaste kiss to any bit of skin in easy reach overcame both. Fingers traced invisible lines, eyes downcast.
"Okay, I'll go first," Damon finally said, with a wry smile. "I think it's obvious that we've a problem."
Elena looked up sheepishly. "We're addicted to each other? And when we don't get our fix we show withdrawal symptoms?"
"No. I mean, well, yeah – obviously. But that's not the problem," Damon replied. "The problem is that we somehow missed the signs." He looped his arms loosely around her middle.
Elena circled his neck. "Despite all our precautions," she said, nodding towards the shoebox that still that on the bed. "How did that happen? How did things get so weird between us?"
"I guess with Stevie and Noah we were afraid of this exact thing happening, so we took more care to schedule enough time for ourselves. And when the twins came, we were both aware it was double the work and we were careful not to let it overwhelm us."
"We've gotten so good at not losing ourselves, we thought we were invincible."
Damon nodded and bent his head slightly, nose rubbing against Elena's. "We thought we didn't have to put any more effort into this." He motioned between the two of them.
"But we do," Elena said. "We need more Damon and Elena time."
"Definitely."
"So, we're really doing this?" Elena asked. "Taking Stef and Noah up on their offer?"
"They kidnapped our child. I think it's more than just an offer."
Elena gently swatted Damon's naked chest. "I mean it. Are we doing this?"
Damon knew what she meant. Taking Emory for a couple of hours was one thing – both Stefanie and Noah had done that many times before. But taking care of her for a whole day? That was a different story entirely. But she knew what he was going to say before he said it.
Kids are capable of more than we give them credit for. "And ours even more so, because they're ours." Damon's confidence in his own children never wavered.
He let her go and went to pick up the shoebox, shaking it gently.
Elena watched him. Now that the fog in her brain had cleared and she felt more like herself again, able to think clearer now, she reflected on the past weeks and how they must have seemed to their children. "Have we really been this bad?" Elena asked Damon.
He looked at her blankly and replied in a flat tone, "We fought about whose side of the sofa was more comfortable, Elena."
She put her face in her hands as she remembered the ridiculousness of their fight from the night before. When she lifted her head again, she had made a decision. She sat down beside him on the edge of the bed and leaned into his side.
"God, you smell good. Have you always smelled this good?" she mumbled into his skin.
He laughed a little under his breath and took her chin in his hand. Bending down, he touched his lips softly to hers. She smiled into the kiss.
Elena took the box in his lap, opened the lid and held it out to him. "Pick."
Damon pursed his lips and pulled out one envelope. "Night under the stars," he read.
Elena tried to imagine a night with Damon, just the two of them, no disruptions from harried managers, sick patients, no 'Dad, have you seen Mom', no 'Mom, I can't find my insert item here' from needy children, no crying babies. It sounded heavenly and just what they needed. She smiled as an idea came to her.
"Get dressed," she told Damon. "We're leaving." Before Stevie and Noah changed their mind, she silently added.
"Where are we going?" Damon asked.
"I know just the place."
The night sky was clear, the September air fresh but not cold, and the dark was lit by thousands and thousands of stars. It seemed impossible that they hadn't been back here since their wedding, Elena thought as they drifted over the smooth water in a small row boat.
"I'm sorry I called you a prick," Elena whispered.
"I'm sorry I called you a workaholic," he replied.
"I'm sorry I was mad at you for cheating on me."
"In your dream, Elena. It happened in your dream."
"I'm sorry," Elena repeated.
"I'm sorry I watched the last two episodes of Firefly without you."
"You did?"
Damon nodded contritely. "I was mad at you."
"Well, then I'm sorry because I'm going to make you watch them with me again."
Damon removed the plank that acted as a bench and laid down in the bottom of the boat. Elena hesitated only a second before following suit. She stretched out beside him in the narrow space, their arms brushing. Damon's fingers tangled with hers and she smiled, knowing both their minds strayed to the same memory of a lifetime ago.
But this time, his grip was sure and she wasn't running out the door.
Damon was just about to ask Elena if she had ever had sex in a row boat when a fat droplet landed right in the center of his forehead. He froze for a moment, then felt the next land on the back of his hand. Damon sat up, releasing a feral growl. "What is it with this place and being rained on?" he yelled into the night. He grabbed for the oars and started rowing, directing the little dinghy quickly to the shore.
Elena sat up beside him and laughed.
"It didn't rain on our wedding day," she reminded him. "Thank god, or you would've taken it for a sign from the universe or something."
Damon glanced at her and with a small smile said, "Nothing could have stopped me from saying 'I do' that day."
Elena looked at him, gaze softening. "Me neither."
The rain was pelting so heavily now, Elena's hair was plastered to her head. She leaned into Damon's space and he stopped rowing for a moment, returning her tender kiss.
"Are you cold?" Damon asked when they reached the dock and he helped her climb out of the boat.
Elena shook her head, water droplets flying everywhere. "No." She didn't let go of his hand and looked up at him through eyelashes clumped together from the rain cascading down her face.
Damon stared at her. He knew that look on her face – the one that promised forever. Grinning, he pressed his lips to hers, tasting Elena and rain.