Elena leans against the window frame in their hotel room, staring up at the neon lights while sipping a glass of Pinot Grigio. She never thought she'd be in such a precarious position, one where her life is literally in danger. And the biggest question of all, why isn't she repulsed by Damon?
While raising the glass to her mouth, Elena takes in the rest of the nighttime skyline, she noticed a smattering of lights on in the nearby office buildings, the twinkling lights on the suspension cords of the Krymsky Bridge.
Walking over to the desk where she'd left the half-empty bottle of wine, she pours herself another glass before picking up the remote for the TV. Although she doesn't speak Russian, at least it's something to occupy herself.
Damon insists she stay off her phone and I-pad, claiming their movements can be tracked. She would love to call Caroline and Bonnie to let them know she's okay.
Her mind drifts back to Damon. There is no denying he's a very handsome man – dark, disheveled hair, the ends of which curl slightly over his ears and fall carelessly across his forehead, an easy, confident smile, and clear blue eyes the likes of which she's never seen before.
Reminding herself to focus on what really mattered, she considers her situation. Does she dare trust Damon? He's not exactly been honest about who he is. Should she go to the Moscow police?
Her thoughts are straying back to Damon when a stern knock on the bedroom door causes her to jump.
Tossing the remote on the bed, she walks across the room and calls through the closed door.
"Martin?"
"Yep, it's me," comes the gruff reply from the other side.
"Who else would it be?" Elena chides herself as she unlocks and opens the door, revealing the man of her daydreams.
He's dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt.
"Is there any of that left?" Damon asks, eyeing the wine glass in Elena's hand.
"Help yourself," Elena says, nodding her head toward the desk. "I think there are extra glasses next to the minibar in the cabinet under the TV."
Tucking a leg under her and sitting down on the edge of the bed, Elena watches as Damon bee-lines for the extra glass and pours a generous helping, finishing off the bottle.
Damon takes a big gulp of wine and rests his feet on the corner of the mattress. "Good wine," he mentions, leaning back and taking a relaxing breath.
Elena tilts her glass toward Damon in a mock toast and takes another swallow.
"Perks of being on someone's hit list?" Elena asks with a healthy dose of sarcasm and only now notices the shopping bags littering the floor outside of her door.
"What's all that?"
"There's still snow in Moscow. You needed some warm clothes." Damon explains.
"Okay, time out," Elena makes a T-sign with her hands.
"What, Elena?" Damon sits up, giving her his full attention.
"What are we doing here? I want to go home!"
"We're here to catch up with your doppelganger and find a way to keep you safe. I don't exactly know how to do that yet, Elena. If you have any suggestions, feel free."
"She never knew I existed until I got involved with you so the way I see it, this is all your fault," Elena snaps and lets out an angry breath.
"Look, Elena," Damon starts, taking one of her hands between his own. "I get it, I do. You must feel like you're on an out-of-control rollercoaster with no way off...and I know I've given you no reason to trust me but please believe me when I tell you, I'll find a way to get you out of this mess..." he drops his eyes for a moment, "even if it means I don't," he adds under his breath, hoping she didn't hear.
"You're right about the trust thing but what choice do I have? I know no one in Moscow. And how are you going to find my lookalike in a city of this size?"
"I'm going to reach out to the spider."
"What?"
"Nothing, just try to get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow." Damon lets go of her hand as he rises and covers his mouth when a yawn escapes.
"Sweet me-filled dreams," he teases and slams the door shut behind him.
Elena's eyes blaze with anger as she extends her middle finger toward him from her side of the door. After looking outside one last time, she closes the curtains, switches off the remaining lights, and crawls into bed.
Closing her eyes, her mind lingers on Damon until the draw of sleep pulls her under.
There is a thrill racing through him now; a twisted sense of anticipation. Marcel is furious with Katherine. He hates that she plays him for a fool and despite that, there is something about her that makes his blood burn.
A slow smile curls his lips when she steps out of the bathroom.
"Who is that man?" he asks. "Katherine."
She turns around slowly and narrows her eyes at him. "What man would that be?"
"You know very well which man? He was in London, he was in Prague. You don't really think this little masquerade will work, do you?"
"What masquerade would that be?" Katherine asks as she pours herself a snifter of brandy.
"Don't play me for a fool, Katherine. Are you and he planning to pocket the cash and leave me holding the goods?" Marcel throws back what's in his glass. "You can be a cold-hearted bitch at times."
"Such sweet names you call me!" Katherine mocks.
"Stop acting so scandalized, you know it's true." Marcel moves forward, stalking panther-like toward her.
He's so close to her that there's barely an inch between their bodies. He plunges his hand into her hair to pull her even closer as his lips hover over hers.
"If you even think about double-crossing me, I'll plunge a dagger into your heart." He deliberately bites down on Katherine's lower lip, knowing full well that pain will arouse rather than repulse her. "Who is he, Katherine?"
Katherine hisses through gritted teeth. "I don't know who he is?"
"You better not be lying," Marcel cautions, his eyes locking on hers.
"Kiss me," Katherine demands.
"Beg," Marcel laughs as he pulls away; mocking her with his amusement at her expense.
"You love me," she toys, running her nail along the angle of his jaw.
His eyes burn with fire and don't look away from hers. "Of all the emotions you inspire in me, love is the least of them."
"Stop being mean!"
Marcel traces the shell of her ear with his tongue. He lets one hand fall to her waist so that he can bring her hips flush against his.
"You're a manipulative, narcissistic, she-devil and I'm on fire for you."
She slaps him. "You need to remember your manners."
"And you need to be screwed senseless," Marcel retorts.
Her demeanor changes immediately. "You know me so well..." she agrees, running her tongue salaciously over her lips. She squeals when Marcel throws her over his shoulder and carries her to the bedroom.
As soon as he's certain, Elena's sleeping, Damon collapses into a chair, pulls out his phone, and types in a message.
"To spider: Must fly."
Within moments he receives a response. "Fly, don't buzz off. I'll double your fee," comes back.
"To spider... where's my dough?"
"To human fly...Recipe incomplete. The cake won't rise. Hence, no dough."
Damon texts back. "I am not the baker...but you want me to be the butcher."
"No play, no pay. I'm certain you know the rules."
He sighs, clicks off his phone, and tosses it aside. Dropping his face in his hands, he weaves his fingers into his hair and wonders how the hell he's going to get out of this mess with both himself and Elena unscathed.
"I still can't believe this is happening," Elena states as she follows Damon out of their hotel the next morning.
Damon knows there's nothing he can say to make it easier for her so he opts to let her rant. She certainly earned every lick of anger she's feeling.
"Where are we going?" she asks as she picks up her stride to keep pace with him.
"I don't know about you but I'm hungry," Damon shrugs as they turn a corner and as they're about to cross the street at an intersection, they're accosted by two men.
"Hey, hey, hey! Take your hands off me!" Elena spits as she fights like a wildcat to break free.
Damon lands a left jab into the other man's throat but backs off, raising his hands when Elena's captor points a gun to her head.
The other man jumps to his feet and sticks the barrel of his gun in Damon's back, forcing them into the back of a van.
"You don't know what you're dealing with here," Damon cautions as they bind his and Elena's hands before slamming the double doors closed.
"I'm gonna pass out. My heart's pounding," Elena stammers, her eyes darting wildly.
"Elena, calm down. I need you to sit down on the floor."
"What?"
"Just get down on the floor...that's right," he nods when she does as he asks. "While you're down there...get the pocketknife out of my boot."
"Why are they after me?"
"Because Esther Mikaelson mostly likely thinks you're Katherine Pierce. She owns this city, cops and all," Damon explains as he cuts through their bonds. When the vehicle slows down, he opens the door quietly and jumps out. He turns and lifts her out and the two of them attempt to lose themselves in the crowd.
"Where's everyone going? How long will it take for this to be nothing but a nightmare?"
"I don't know, Elena. We need to get our passports together and get you out of here and marry me."
"We're getting married?"
"Yes. I want you to be Mrs. Martin de Porres," Damon smirks as he pulls her forward.
"You're not Martin."
"No, I'm not."
"Who are you?"
"I don't have a name." He shakes his head.
Fuming inside, Elena acts rashly. She pulls her wrist free from Damon and takes off running in the opposite direction.
"Elena," he takes off after her, darting into the flow of traffic and dodging vehicles til he finally catches up to her.
"What do you want?" she snaps.
"If you want to live, never leave my side..." his voice trails off when he catches a glimpse of Klaus Mikaelson grinning at him.
"Come, we have to go. NOW!" Damon grabs her hand and they run again till they reach the river. Damon jumps over the fence then lifts Elena over and they crouch against the frozen embankment.
At the sound of screeching tires and yells, Elena ducks into a steel pipe with icicles hanging from the top of it. Having no other option, Damon takes a deep breath and jumps into the freezing cold water.
Above them Klaus and his goons are looking over the fencing, their eyes searching the area. Klaus curses loudly and backs away and slides back into the black Mercedes and they drive away.
Elena runs to the water's edge to help Damon. "I've got you. Come on. Here we go. Up."
Damon's lips are blue and he's shivering badly.
"We've gotta get you warm," she throws one of his arms over her shoulders and wraps the other around his waist. Looking around, she sees an old building. "We're almost there. Come on. Come on. Don't quit on me now," she encourages him as she struggles to get him inside.
A younger woman is staring at them. Elena has no other option but to trust her. "We need your help. He fell in the river, and he's freezing. He needs clothes."
"You're Americans."
"Yes, but we ran into trouble with your Mafia."
An older woman appears at the top of the stairs and starts verbalizing a litany of harsh in Russian.
"My grandmother. She disapproves of what I do but she eats the food it buys her."
"Follow me." the woman leads them up a flight of stairs. Damon is barely conscious but with Elena's help, they get up the stairs.
"You can hide in here," the kind woman opens a door disguised as a chest of drawers. "It was built to escape Secret Police. In you go," she prods and then closes the door behind them.
Elena turns her attention immediately to Damon. "You've got hypothermia. We have to get these wet clothes off..."
"They must be in one of these buildings," Klaus orders his men as they pour out of the vehicles and run inside with their weapons drawn.
Klaus enters the building, his eyes searching the people that are standing outside of their apartments and staring down at him.
"Listen to me! Show me where the Americans are and you'll be paid in American dollars. Five hundred dollars reward." he yells aloud.
He follows his men up the staircase. "Check every apartment."
Elena starts stripping his clothes off. "How are you doing? Talk to me."
Damon looks at her, his body shaking like a freight train.
"We're gonna... We're gonna have to do this before your body temperature falls below 95 degrees." She takes off her coat and blouse and pulls him against her in an effort to warm him up.
"What's your name? Who are you really?"
"Damon."
"So you are named for a saint?"
"No, I was named after a magician. I used to do tricks for Angela, and that's how I got things at the orphanage. The Priests took everything, took Angela...She fell. I escaped. I always escape...but I don't believe in magic anymore," Damon admits winsomely.
"I do." Elena locks eyes with his. "I've never felt like this before."
"How?" he asks when they hear scuffling around.
"We gotta get out of here. They're coming," Elena warns, her eyes wide.
"Americans are here!" comes a woman's voice.
"Hurry," she helps Damon put on his clothes and they escape through the top of the small space and hurry to the roof.
"Maybe we can jump? Let's jump," Elena prods Damon.
"It's too far, Elena."
They run to the opposite corner of the roof, climb onto the fire escape and quickly work their way to the ground. And then they run.
Klaus and his men reach the roof with guns drawn. One of them raises his arms, aims at the target, and starts to shoot.
BAM! BAM!
"We need them alive, idiot." Niklaus slaps him. "Let's go."
"Embassy's east of here," Damon points as they approach a woman, someone he's familiar with.
"Well, look who's here!" she circles him. "I have some beautiful things for you to buy. In here. Come on," she urges them with her arm.
"Damon?" Elena asks, looking perplexed.
"Don't fret. She's an old acquaintance of mine," Damon explains as he nudges her forward.
"I am Ms. Petrova. But beings you're Americans, you can call me Nadia."
"OK, Nadia. You know I'm good for the money. We want-"
"I know. The icon of the Virgin of the Orans."
"No, are those maps of the tunnels?" Damon asks, reaching for and finding his wallet gone.
"Yes," Nadia replies, searching his face.
"We're not here to buy art. Take us to the American Embassy."
"I need $10,000 up-front," Nadia smirks, extending her hand, palm up.
"Nadia," Damon shakes his head. "I don't carry that kind of money and my wallet seems to be missing."
"6,000 and that's my final offer."
"Shh," Nadia's partner Gregor interrupts. "Police?"
"Klaus Mikaelson's goons," Damon informs them.
"Why does it have to be so complicated?" Elena sighs heavily and Damon squeezes her hand.
"You're in Russia, everything is complicated," Nadia adds.
"But you know the way?" Damon asks.
"Like the face of a Vacheron Constantin." She nods at Damon's watch.
Damon slips it off his wrist and hands it to her.
"Now, I remember." Nadia and Gregor lead them to the water main. "They shut it down each afternoon in winter."
Damon glances at Elena. "What time do they turn it back on?"
Gregor answers, "You have ten minutes, give or take."
"Give or take?" Elena asks as she pulls her lower lip between her teeth.
"That means several minutes earlier or later," Gregor quips, winking at Elena.
"Don't scare them, Gregor. Don't worry. The fourth opening is your embassy... Good luck," Nadia adds as she and Gregor take their leave.
"Come on." Damon takes Elena's hand and they hurry through the defacto tunnel. "Here's the third one. Embassy's next."
"About two more minutes," Elena cautions as they move along.
"Yeah. Unless it's a minus." Damon tries to turn the lid. "Damn, it's stuck," he grimaces as he tries to turn the wheel.
Elena's head snaps to the side at the sound of whooshing water coming down the pipe.
"The water's back on! Hurry, Damon!"
The water roars through the pipe, hitting Elena flush, blowing her backward; she perilously clings to Damon's shoulders as he tries to open the hatch. The water rises mercilessly. There's a foot of air, then six inches, then just three, then none at all, and they're underwater...
"Almost got it," Damon grits his teeth as he desperately turns the hatch wheel, spinning it one last time, and miraculously the hatch door blows open and smashes against a one-foot diameter pipe running along the wall of the service manhole, cracking a fissure in it.
Damon pulls himself up, reaches down, and lifts Elena out of the water. "There's a car right above us. Watch your head," he cautions.
"That was close," he sighs and lays his hands on Elena's shoulder. "Embassy's only 100 yards away." Damon looks out from under the car, dropping his head in disgust when he sees Klaus and his merry band of reprobates roaming around the square above them.
"I'll create a diversion. It should take you a few seconds to run to the embassy gates. They'll open them when they see you coming."
"OK. I can do that," Elena nods, letting out a breath.
"Yes, you can do it."
"Wait. When am I gonna see you?" Elena asks, a funny feeling pricks at her insides at the thought of not seeing him again.
"I'll find you. You found me after all." Damon waggles her brows at her.
"Yeah, I did." She smiles tightly.
"You'll be safe in the embassy. I'll come for you. I promise."
"Pinkie swear?" Elena offers hers.
Damon grins and links their little fingers together. "I'm going to get their attention and when I do, you run as you've never run before." Damon leans in and kisses her, letting his lips linger in case it's the last kiss.
"Time to go," he says and slides out from under the vehicle. "You guys looking for me?" Damon calls aloud, getting Klaus's attention.
As soon as she sees Damon take off with the bad guys in pursuit, she pulls herself out from under the car, jumps to her feet, and takes off in a run.
Noticing her out of the corner of his eyes, Klaus's mouth twists angrily. With his men in hot pursuit of Damon, he turns and runs after Elena.
"Open the gate! I'm an American! Open the gate!" Elena screams as runs pell-mell toward the embassy.
Just as Klaus gets close enough to grab onto the collar of her coat, she lets her arms slip out as she runs through the now open gate and into the arms of one of the marines.
Klaus wraps his fingers in the chain-link fencing and glowers at the marine as he slams it closed and locks it.
"Stand back! I said back off!" the marine fingers his weapon.
Klaus heaves from low in his throat and spits at the man before finally walking away...
Damon peers his head out from behind a vehicle just in time to see Elena make it safely inside the embassy property.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Damon slips into the shadows and escapes...
Thank you all, so, so much.
Thank you, Eva.
Chapter title: 'Running With the Night' by Lionel Richie.
Jurassic World-Dominion. I enjoyed it. It had a lot of 'Easter eggs' - call-backs to the original Jurassic Park. I liked it better than Fallen Kingdom.
Have a beautiful day.