A/N: We're almost there. Technically, this is the last chapter. There's only the epilogue left, which I'll be posting tomorrow. And then I'll need therapy because I need to figure out what to do with my life now.

Mystic Falls | February 2036

Elena cupped Damon's face in both hands and asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Are you going to stay if I say no?"

"No," Elena replied with a throwaway shrug, "but I am going to feel bad for abandoning you, for about… mmh, five minutes at least. Ten if there's no snacks in the car." She glanced over to where Bonnie, Dot, and Deja were waiting in the car parked in the driveway.

Dot pressed down hard on the horn. "Come on," she yelled through the open side window. "The road waits for no one."

"The road?" Damon mocked her. "You're going to a spa barely sixty miles from here. Hate to break it to you, missy, but your wild biker days are as far behind you as my—"

Elena jerked on his neck suddenly, reminding him with a warning in her eyes that they were, after all, outside, and neighbors were listening – in case he was about to blurt something about his bad old vampire days.

"—single white male days," Damon lamely finished, because he had been about to say something highly inappropriate for the general public. Grimacing at his wife, he said, "Go have fun with your girlfriends. Leave me." He sighed dramatically.

Over Damon's shoulder, Elena could see Noah with baby Emory in his arms, rolling his eyes at his father's antics. "We'll be okay, Mom," he said.

Damon grinned. "We'll be okay, Mom," he parroted and leaned in to briefly kiss her.

The car horn sounded again and Elena extracted herself from Damon's hold before another word battle could ensue. "Love you," she called and waved in their family's general direction as she got in the car.

With an evil grin, Dot let the tires squeal on the asphalt as she tore out of the driveway. Damon shook his head disapprovingly and turned to face his son.

"Emmy needs her diaper changed," Noah reported, "and I've no idea where the twins are."

Damon groaned and hung his head. Then he took the baby from Noah and said, "Can you please go and check the balcony on the third floor, the one facing Mrs. Miller's property." He'd found the drapes over that balcony door askew a few times in the last couple of days, even though nobody was ever using this particular balcony. He'd had his suspicions who was sneaking up there and he was sure they were about to be confirmed.

Just as Damon was finishing buttoning up Emmy's clothes, Noah's voice sounded from somewhere above them. "Found them." A moment later all three of them descended the stairs. "They were tying sheets together to hang from the railing."

Damon fixed Octavia and Bennett with a stare, wordlessly asking them to explain.

"We just wanted to know how many it takes to get down," Tavi volunteered.

"In books and movies they always tie sheets together to climb out of a window. But, realistically, Dad, why do they have so many sheets just conveniently lying around?"

Octavia nodded. "It was research," she explained. "For when we need it in real life."

Damon blinked a few times, face expressionless. He tried to summon some surprise, but found where Tavi and Ben where concerned, he had none left. "Congratulations," he said instead, "you just earned yourself laundry duty for the whole weekend."

Tavi groaned with her whole body while Bennett calmly accepted the punishment. He grabbed his sister's arm and dragged her to the laundry room.

"Now, if some other kids of mine would do something punishable by dishes duty, my weekend would be set," Damon said.

Noah snorted and replied, "I'm going over to Mark's house."

He left and for a little while the house was blissfully silent. "Ah," Damon breathed out, enjoying it. "This is nice, isn't it?" he asked Emory who blinked up at him calmly.

"It's dishwashing soap," Bennett's yell could be heard a second later. "You can't just substitute detergent for dishwashing soap!"

"I know that! I just wanted to see what would happen!" Octavia yelled back.

Damon hung his head and sighed. He met the eyes of his youngest daughter. Her accusatory expression seemed to say, 'This is your fault for jinxing it.'

Damon went to sort out the recent drama.

"Holy shit," Stevie exclaimed as she came to a halt in the doorway a little later. She eyed the chaos of strewn laundry and overturned baskets and the thick cover of soapy bubbles on every surface, including the twins. "How did that happen?" she asked.

"Well," Damon began, "it all started when your mom said she wanted kids." He stopped when he looked at Stefanie, suddenly realizing that she shouldn't be there. "Shouldn't you be gone?"

"I forgot something," she replied. Her friends had picked her up earlier and she wasn't supposed to be back until late evening. "Do you need help?"

"We're good," Damon assured. "Go have fun with your friends. We'll manage this mess somehow."

Stevie looked around, unsure. But her dad shooed her away. She left, but not before taking a few pictures with her phone, to send to her mom.

"Guys," Damon called out, "Uncle Jeremy is here to pick up Jacob."

The triplets emerged not from the playroom where Damon had left them only a few minutes ago, but from the kitchen area. Damon frowned and traced back their path with his eyes. He thought he could see the imprints of three pairs of small feet in the light dusting of snow on the ground outside. He'd have to go investigate what his hellions had been up to now later.

"Dad, can I get a crossbow?" Bennett asked that same evening when Damon looked in on them after dinner.

"No."

"You didn't even think about it," Bennett complained.

"What's there to think about? It's a weapon that shoots arrows at a fast speed. Last time I checked you manage to do enough damage with non-lethal instruments."

Like household items. A few weeks ago, Damon had found the triplets outside, throwing butter knives at an improvised target made of cardboard. He'd come outside just in time to hear Tavi suggest that Jake's aim could be improved if he was throwing at a live target to which Bennett had quickly volunteered.

"But Dad," Bennett argued. "Jake can practice all day with his dad, but I can only practice when I go over there. He'll be much better than me."

"Why do you need to master shooting a crossbow at all?"

"Just in case," Bennett answered.

"In case of?"

"In case of a vampire attack."

"Have you invited any vampires into this house?"

"No."

"Perfect!" Damon replied. "So all you need to do is just stay inside and you'll be safe."

"Da-a-a-a-d," Bennett drawled.

"No crossbows in this house," Damon put an end to the argument.

"Vampire attacks?" Octavia commented from the corner of the room where she was hunched over something. She shook her head in disdain. "Couldn't you have come up with something more convincing? You should have said something about wanting to protect yourself and your family."

Bennett glowered at her while Damon replied, "You two have been training with Uncle Jeremy in more martial arts than I can pronounce since you were three. I think you're fine on the protecting yourself front. If anyone of us will survive a zombie apocalypse, it's you."

Octavia lifted her gaze to the ceiling as she thought. Then she nodded, "It's true. He's right," she said to her brother.

"Whose side are you on?" Bennett grumbled.

Damon sighed and looked down at Emory; she earnestly looked back at him. She wasn't the smiley happy-go-lucky kind of baby that Stefanie had been. Nor was she anything like Noah, cautious but very vocal when things weren't to his taste. She was definitely on the quiet side, but that was because she was always watching. Like now, when Damon glanced down at her, she met his eyes as if listening carefully. "Whatever your powers turn out to be," Damon said to her because they still didn't know, "if you have any say in it, could you pick something that won't cause me any gray hairs? Like a green thumb or something," he suggested.

Emmy gave him one of her rare smiles, the one where her whole face scrunched up. She laughed and Damon took that for a no. He sighed again.

"But you already have gray hair," Tavi helpfully inserted. She pointed at his temples where indeed the gray had started taking over the black.

"Funny," Damon replied, "It didn't used to be there before you two came along. Coincidence? I think not," he muttered and left the twins to puzzle over the statement.

"Dad?" Bennett tried his luck again while Damon was bathing Emory. "I know you said no to a crossbow, but can I get a bow instead?"

Damon thought for a long while. "Will you promise only to use it when an adult is around and watching?"

Bennett nodded.

"I'll have to talk to your mom but if she's okay with it, then yeah, okay."

Bennett ran to the door and yelled into the hall, "He said yes."

"Oh, okay," Tavi's voice came as a reply. "I'll stop looking for supplies then."

Something clattered in the cupboard under the stairs that they were using as a storeroom. Damon stared flatly at the tiled wall in front of him.

Bennett explained, "She said she thought she knew how to make one, in case you said no."

Damon breathed in once, lifted Emory out of the water and, wrapping her in a towel, passed her over to Bennett.

"Tavi," he called when he went into the hallway. She appeared in front of him immediately and he crouched down to her level. "What did I say about weapons in this house?"

Octavia's shoulders sagged. "I forgot?" she tried.

"You forgot?"

"There's so many rules," she argued. "How am I supposed to remember them all. Look at me. I'm small. My brain is small too. I can't remember all of the rules all of the time."

"But you can remember how to make a bow?"

She bit her lips guiltily and shifted her gaze.

Damon reminded her, "No weapons of any kind in this house. Understood?"

"Yes," she nodded dutifully.

"Oh," Damon hurried to add, just to be on the safe side, "and I decide what constitutes a weapon.

Tavi's shoulders sagged even more which told him that she had been about to exploit his statement, looking for a loophole.

"And this is the number one rule, okay? The one you're not allowed to forget."

Octavia nodded.

"No, tell me you understand and that you'll remember. With words."

"I understand. And I won't forget the number one rule: no weapons in the house."

"Good. Now come here and give me a hug."

Tavi smiled and threw her arms around her dad. She didn't let go even as he got up, dangling from his neck. He stepped back into the bathroom where Bennett was bravely fighting with a diaper, and deposited Tavi at the sink. "Brush your teeth. It's bed time."

With the twins finally in bed, Damon looked in on Noah who was texting with one of his friends and made his way downstairs. He quickly prepared a bottle for Emory and sank down on one of the sofas, deciding to wait for Stevie down here.

The baby fell asleep soon after but Damon didn't move her upstairs. He was exhausted. He decided to let her sleep on his shoulder for a bit while he rested and turned on a movie, something mindless where he didn't have to put much effort into following the story.

He was halfway through it when the door opened and Stevie came in. She spotted her dad on the couch and went to sit down next to him.

"How was the movie?" Damon asked because Stevie had texted him that her friends were going to the cinema and the movie was on the longer-ish side which was why she would be a bit late coming home and if that was okay with him.

"Boring," Stevie replied and rested her head on the backrest of the sofa. "Lots of explosions and fight scenes."

"Then why did you want to go?"

"Because Ethan wanted to go and I like Ethan."

Damon grunted something unintelligible and continued to stare at the screen.

"This is hell for you, isn't it?" Stevie asked with a laugh in her voice. "Me, liking a boy?"

"As someone who has been to actual hell: Yes, this is worse."

"Hmm," Stevie replied, trying to think of a solution, "maybe I don't have to tell you each time I like a boy, if it bothers you too much."

"Each time?" Damon asked. "You plan on liking more than one boy?"

"Dad," Stevie laughed at his mock outrage.

"No," Damon said, getting more serious now, "I want you to tell me. I just also want you to be careful, okay? I trust you."

"I know."

They fell silent for a few moments until Damon said, "Thanks." She looked sideways at him, raising an eyebrow in question. He clarified, "For making being your dad so easy."

Stefanie smiled and scooted closer, cuddling up to Damon's side. He put an arm around her, pulling her in. Together they watched the rest of the movie.

Emory began to stir just as the credits started running, snuffling unhappily. Before Damon could ask what the problem was, Stevie said, "She's got an itch on her back."

"She told you that?" Damon asked as he gently rubbed Emmy's back.

"Not with words. She doesn't use words. Yet. It's like a thought that pops into my head. I think maybe she's projecting it and I'm the only one tuned into her wavelength, so I receive it."

"Hm," Damon replied. He wondered if that was an indication of her powers, but frankly, there was no way to know yet, so thinking about it was futile.

The back rub had helped though; Em had quieted down already. As she fell asleep again, she made a soft noise of contentment and an angelic, tranquil smile flitted across her face. Stevie stared it, trying to remember who it reminded her of. She couldn't remember Noah as a baby and it definitely wasn't the twins.

"When she does that, it sounds and looks so familiar, but I can't put my finger on whom she reminds me of," Stevie wondered aloud.

"Your mom," Damon quietly replied with a knowing look. "She looks exactly like your mom."

Stevie's eyes grew large. Now that he'd pointed it out, it was so obvious.

Stevie had never seen pictures of her mom as a baby. There were none left, having been destroyed in a house fire. But she didn't need to compare baby pictures to see it now. The cut of her eyes, the bow of her lips, the tiny nose, every little detail down to hair and eye color – everything was a tiny copy of her mother.

"Well, damn," Stevie said, "how did I miss something so obvious?"

Damon chuckled. "Don't beat yourself up. Your mom hasn't noticed it yet either."

"You're gonna tell her?"

"Nah," Damon replied. "I have a bet with myself going on about how long it's gonna take for her to see it."

Stevie laughed. "Can I get in on it?"

"Why are we watching end credits?" Noah's voice interrupted.

Damon paused the playback. "Because we don't know what movie to watch next."

"Can I pick?" Noah asked.

"I've had enough movies for today. I'm going upstairs to read," Stevie said. She took Emory from Damon's arms, offering to put her to bed while Noah took up Stevie's freed up space on the sofa.

Damon mouthed a thank you to his daughter and got comfortable with his son, settling in to watch another movie which he was probably going to fall asleep in the middle of.

A few weeks later

Middle school talent and visual arts exhibition had never been Damon's favorite pastime, except of course when he got to hear his daughter play the piano. But he could have that any time of the week, so being forced to wander the halls of the school and ooh-ing and aah-ing at every mediocre display of 'art' and pretending to be interested in the gushing tales of other parents going on about their children had Damon's teeth itching.

He tried to unobtrusively glance at his wrist watch to see how long it would be until the show in the school theater started, but Elena caught him looking and widened her eyes at him in warning. He pretended a little bit harder to partake in the conversation among the small group of parents of Stefanie's friends.

Karma, Damon decided. That was it. Salvatore Boarding School probably had no talent show. If they'd allowed Stevie to go there, he wouldn't be stuck here in the middle of this inane conversation. But they had reached a compromise – Stefanie would finish middle school here and switch to the Salvatore School for Gifted Children when it was time for her to start high school. Except, of course, she wouldn't be boarding there. With the school being only ten minutes away, it made no sense. Also, Damon wouldn't even hear of it.

He fought hard to suppress a yawn. There were actually people that cared about spelling bee contests? And more importantly: spelling bee contests were actually a thing? He'd always assumed that to be an urban myth. He glanced at Elena next to him and perked up a little. He knew that face – the glassy eyes, the frozen polite half-smile, the spaced-out look. She was just as bored as he was. He knew it!

Damon let the arm that had been resting on Elena's shoulders slip down to her waist. He pulled her a little closer into his side and slid his palm under the hem of Elena's blouse, touching bare skin. She jerked slightly next to him, but he pretended to ignore her, nodding vigorously at something that someone just said, encouraging the other man's ramblings and prolonging the torture – all for the sake of his eldest daughter.

Meanwhile, Damon's fingers danced along the waistbelt of Elena's skirt, teasingly dipping inside here and there. He felt her shiver and a second later she pulled his arm up and over her shoulder again, this time lacing their fingers together, thus trapping him from teasing her further. Damon fully expected an outraged stare or even an elbow to his side, but instead she curled her free arm around his waist. He wore a sports coat with a black t-shirt underneath and his outfit conveniently hid how her hand slipped not only under his shirt but clawed down his entire back, leaving Damon to gasp and quickly cover it up with a cough.

A few minutes later Damon was in serious trouble. Elena's machinations didn't go unnoticed by a certain part of his anatomy and it was starting to show.

"Would you excuse us," Elena asked into the round with a sweet smile, "we want to say hi to our daughter before the talent show begins."

They left to an agreeable murmur and quickly turned into one of the less brightly lit corridors. Elena giggled in amusement, but Damon couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed her into the closest wall and pressed his whole body against her, mouth dropping to her lips, tongue demanding entrance. Elena's surprise was short-lived. She grabbed his head, directing it sideways for a better kiss and after a few moments presented him with her neck while she glanced around for a more secluded space.

"Here," she breathed against Damon's ear while he mauled her neck and collar bone. Elena pulled her husband to a classroom that was thankfully unlocked and stumbling over each other's feet in their haste, they ungracefully landed on the teacher's desk.

Damon wasted no time pulling Elena's mouth to his, while Elena hurriedly pushed Damon's jacket over his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why are other parents so boring?" Damon asked breathlessly as he kissed down his wife's cleavage. "Are we boring too?" Damon wondered, shocking himself as he considered it.

"What?"

"Yeah," Damon nodded, "like, maybe they look at us and think the same thing. Could be, right?"

Elena looked at him like he was crazy. "Could be," she said, her voice making it clear that she didn't believe it for a second. "But I don't see any of them trying to sneak a make out session in one of the classrooms."

"Right," Damon replied and went back to kissing his wife.

He had to remind his wandering hands several times not to unbutton the blouse she was wearing and to stick to kissing only, because boring or not – this was still Stevie's school, when the door flew open, banging against the opposite wall.

"Are you effing kidding me?" Stevie's outraged voice rang out. "I mean, really, Mom? Dad? In my school? Seriously?"

She looked back and forth between them, demanding an explanation but Damon was busy tugging his shirt down that Elena had pushed up while she retrieved his jacket and dusted it off. Neither had a reply for their daughter; they did however smirk at each other which only made Stevie roll her eyes and deflate.

"Can't you just behave like normal parents for once? Just once! That's all I'm asking. God!" she yelled at the ceiling before closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

Damon and Elena took that break to recheck and adjust each other's clothes and to generally make themselves presentable again.

"The show's starting in five minutes. Go find your seats," Stefanie lectured them as she stood aside to let them pass through first. Elena and Damon, adequately scolded, went wordlessly.

As they walked through the hallway towards the auditorium, Stefanie continued, "It's bad enough you can't keep your paws off each other at home. But in public? Seriously? Can't you control yourself for even a few hours? One evening? Is that too much to ask for? I swear—"

They had reached their assigned row and Stefanie pointed at their seats before turning on her heel and leaving without another word. Damon and Elena sat down, not looking at each other, but both feeling the smirk on the other's face.

"It was your fault," they shot out at the same time after another second of silence. They burst out laughing which earned them several stares and mutterings.

"Calm down," Damon addressed their seatmates. "The show hasn't even started yet."

He got an elbow to his side from Elena for his troubles. But for the rest of the one hour long show as well as the ride home with a scowling Stefanie in the backseat, they tried and actually did behave themselves.

A few days later, they went out for dinner as a family. A new 'Italian themed' restaurant had opened on the outskirts of Mystic Falls and Damon needed to see for himself what they offered.

"'Italian themed'? Really?" Damon ranted as they got ready to go out. "How can you be Italian themed? You're either an Italian restaurant or you're not. Who comes up with this shit?"

Elena stepped up to him and undid the top half of his shirt buttons. In his rant he'd missed one and she fixed it for him. "Are you sure you want to go there then? We can just as well go and eat at the Grill," she suggested.

"No," Damon grumbled, acquiescing. "I need to check out the competition."

"Competition?" Elena asked. "Your restaurants are not Italian."

"Apparently neither is that one," Damon replied, motioning to the flyer of said place. "It's only 'Italian themed', remember?"

Elena chuckled.

"Mom? Dad?" Stefanie's voice carried upstairs. "Are you ready to go? The babysitters are here."

"In a minute, honey," Elena called back.

"Hurry. Ben and Uncle Jer are starting to talk crossbow defense techniques again," Stefanie added with some urgency in her tone.

Bennett absolutely adored his uncle Jeremy. And everybody knew that once those two got started, they were hard to pull apart again, so Damon and Elena actually did hurry. They shared a brief kiss and descended the stairs, making sure to keep a few feet distance from each other. Thankfully, the rest of the family was dressed and ready to go.

Emory, who was not quite 10 months old at that point, was left in the loving care of her Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Claire who'd brought their own kids that were already sucked deep into their game consoles. But the rest of the family piled into the Land Cruiser and they were off.

Stefanie usually spent any drive with her nose stuck in a book, but something was off today. She eyed her parents but couldn't figure out what it was. She knocked her foot against Noah's ankle and he turned to her, mouthing, 'What?'

Stevie nodded towards their mom and dad, but Noah only shrugged his shoulders, not understanding, and stared at her in question. Stefanie waved him off; she didn't get it either. Shaking her head, she tried to refocus on her book.

The weirdness continued at the table. Stevie caught her brother's eyes again but before he could ask her what her problem was, she let it go. The twins had their heads stuck together, whispering to each other, caught up in their own world, as usual.

A waiter came by to fill their glasses with water, then a waitress took their orders. All through the part, Stefanie continued to watch her parents who were acting very strange. She watched for a while as her dad and Bennett fought out a battle with their breadsticks, Tavi declared that the loser would have to share his dessert with her, Noah was offering tactic suggestions to his brother, while their mom watched their antics with a smile, secretly snapping pictures of them all on her phone.

They all looked so very normal, Stefanie didn't understand what was wrong with the picture. She was getting frustrated and annoyed at herself.

Their food got delivered shortly after and everybody dug in. But even though her cheesy tortellini were excellent, she couldn't really focus on her food. Finally, she put down her knife and fork and fixed her parents with a suspicious stare. "Okay, what's going on?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"What do you mean, angel?" her mom asked, looking up from her plate.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Stefanie asked.

"Weird?" her dad replied. "Weird how?" He took a bite of his salmon and chewed, blinking way too innocently to fool her.

Stefanie growled with frustration. "I don't know. Just… weird. It's creepy. Stop it."

"We're not doing anything."

Stevie noticed how her siblings stopped eating and watched their parents and sister, their heads turning back and forth like it was a tennis match. She couldn't pay attention to them now.

"Exactly," Stevie cried out in response to her mother's claim.

"Huh?"

Stefanie tried to elaborate, "You're being all—"

"Normal?" her dad offered with a smirk while her mother fluttered her eyes innocently and just as convincingly as her dad.

"Ugh," Stevie exclaimed, giving up.

Damon and Elena laughed. They relaxed a little, abandoning their 'normal' act and Damon actually pulled his wife's chair closer so he could rest an arm on its backrest. It wasn't long until they were back to being their usual touchy selves. Their dad rested a palm on their mom's knee even if it meant spending the rest of his meal eating with his left hand. They were whispering and giggling like teenagers as they waited for their desserts. Their mom stroked a hand through their dad's hair while he took care of the check and kissed his temple before they left the restaurant hand in hand. And as they walked out, her dad dropped her mom's hand and instead wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his side. And she slipped a palm into one of his back pockets and kept it there all the way across the parking lot. And when they got to the car and her dad held the door open for her mom, they leaned into each other and whispered something and Stefanie so did not want to know what it was because it made them giggle like fucking teenagers.

Stevie pulled a face, disgusted at their antics. But at least the world was back on its axis. She turned to her younger siblings. The twins had strapped themselves in their booster chairs already and she checked with Octavia whether every clasp was fastened the way it was supposed to be while Noah did the same on the other side with Bennett. Then she got in the car herself and waited.

She caught snippets of their parents' conversation through the open passenger door.

"What did you slip the waiter?" her mom was asking her dad.

"A note for the chef."

Stevie glanced in their direction, listening in now. She hadn't noticed her dad passing a note.

"A note?"

"Yeah, I gave him my phone number." In the side mirror Stevie caught her dad doing the grin and eye thing and her mom rolling her eyes. There was silence for a moment and Stevie didn't have to see to know that her mom was raising an eyebrow in question.

Her dad relented and explained, "My phone number and an incentive to come work for me instead."

Her mom laughed. "You're impossible."

"No, I'm a business man and I recognize talent when I see it. Or eat it, I guess."

"No, you're a handful. You're lucky you're hot. I wouldn't put up with you otherwise," her mom joked aaaaand that was the cue for Stevie to stop listening.

She reclined in her seat, switched on the overhead light and tried to get lost in her book.

Several minutes later, her parents were still not done; her mom had her arms slung loosely around her dad's neck and they were doing this thing where they were whispering to each other and completely ignoring the rest of the world. When she saw her dad twist a lock of her mom's hair around his finger, she intervened. She thought she had been very patient, but now it was time to pull on the brakes. They were in public after all. What if some of her friends saw them? Though most of her friends listened to her bitch only to tell her how lucky she was to have such cool parents. Not that Stevie didn't know herself. But it was nice to vent, occasionally.

Stevie pushed the button to lower the window. "Is this going to turn into something R-rated? Because if so, we should probably get home first, where, you know, the doors have no windows," she interrupted them.

Elena and Damon both turned their heads and met four sets of eyes all staring at them impatiently. Damon tilted his head to the side and regarded them all carefully.

The children, confused by the silent observation, all shared a look among each other. Octavia, usually the mouthpiece, spoke first. "What?"

Not addressing her question, Damon said to Elena, "How did that happen? How did we end up with a carload of kids?"

"Forgot to stop after the first one?" Elena offered.

"And we're responsible for them now?"

"Yep. Have been for a few years now."

"So, it's probably too late to return them?"

Sighing, Elena answered, "Looks like it. I guess they're ours to keep now."

"Hmm," Damon replied and tilted his head as he eyed the four unamused faces turned on him. "I mean, I guess they're kinda cute. If you squint a little—"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Stevie cut in dryly. "You're so funny. Let's go before I'm old enough to drive us home myself."

Damon grinned at his daughter and held the door open for Elena. She smiled at him and briefly pecked his lips before getting in the car. Damon closed the door, but before he made his way around the vehicle to the driver's side, he stopped at Stefanie's lowered window.

"Smartass," Damon said to his oldest daughter. He leant in the window and kissed her cheek with a loud smacking sound. Stevie pushed him away and pretended to be annoyed but when her dad had his back turned, she grinned. Yeah, out of all her friends, she probably did have the weirdest parents. And that wasn't even taking into account that her dad was pushing 200, her mom had died a bunch of times, and both were former supernatural beings.

"One of these days you're going to bring home a boy. And I'm going to have so much fun interrupting you, sharing personal details from when you were a child, and generally being embarrassing," her dad threatened as he started the car.

Stefanie blanched momentarily. She absolutely wouldn't put it past him to make good on his threat. She tried to deflect, "What if I bring home a girl?" She goaded him, waggling her eyebrows while waiting for his answer.

"You promise?" her dad asked after a short glance to her mom. "Because I would actually prefer that."

Stefanie, a little annoyed that she could never catch him off-guard, deflated and replied, "Nah, probably not. Though no promises."

"Too bad," her dad grumbled.

Yeah, the weirdest, Stevie thought. But also the awesomest. Following a sudden impulse, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the front seat and her mother's neck while her dad weaved out of the parking lot.

Elena's hands came up and she squeezed Stevie's forearms gently. "Love you, sweetheart," she whispered.

"Love you too, Mom."

"What about me?" Damon asked indignantly.

Stevie tilted her head sideways as if considering his question. "Meh, I guess you're okay."

"You have no idea how embarrassing I can be. So, so embarrassing," Damon darkly whispered, repeating his earlier threat.