Brushing the sweat from her brow with a backhand swipe, Elena enters The Hard Rock Cafe on the strip. She's there to meet Caroline for lunch. Looking around, she finally notices the blonde waving at her. Grinning in reply, she skirts around a group of people waiting to be seated and slides into the booth.
"I took the liberty of ordering you a cocktail, something light; I know you're going to see Elijah," Caroline says with a genuine smile on her face, giving the waitress the same one when she sets a banana-berry colada in front of each of them.
Elena laughs at the statement, before lifting her glass to her lips. An icy-cold drink always tastes good after being outside on a sweltering hot day. Looking up, she notices Caroline staring at her.
"What?" Elena asks, dropping her eyes to check if her top has a stain or something.
"You're not dirty, but you may have done the dirty," Caroline quips, her perfectly shaped brows shooting up.
"What makes you think that?" Elena blushes under her scrutiny.
"It's not hard to see. Plus, you're blushing. Who is he?" Caroline asks, leaning forward to hear the juicy details.
"He's the guy from the bar that night, the last time we went out..."
"Oh my God, score!" she cheers, high-fiving Elena. "How was it?"
"It was the best ever," Elena gushes and waves her hand in front of her face to cool her burning cheeks.
Raising their glasses, they send a clank echoing through the air, each taking a generous swallow before setting them back down.
"So, was it a one and done, or do you have other ideas?" she prods gleefully, but just then the waitress appears, cutting off their conversation. Caroline huffs, unable to disguise her irritation at their interrupted conversation.
After the waitress takes their orders, Caroline leans forward again, "Well?"
"I don't know, Care. I like him very much but there are things to consider." Such as being a vampire..." He doesn't live around here, and I have no idea how long he'll be around or if he has any plans to stay. No, I wouldn't mind having a little more fun, but there are many things at play here." Elena tries to explain. When she spends time with Damon, when she sees him, it's as if space and time become the finest point imaginable, as if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed.
"Have fun. Enjoy the ride. Just be careful," Caroline cautions, tapping her fingernails on the table.
"I am, and I will. It is what it is. Time will tell," Elena submits, leaning back into the booth when the waitress reappears with their salads.
How can she explain to Caroline when she can't even put it into words herself? In his embrace, her world stills on its axis. There is no time, no wind, and no rain. It's simply the two of them...
"I'm stuffed," Elena remarks as they walk out of the restaurant and onto the Strip. As always, they have to navigate through scores of people. Sometimes she loves to enjoy a cocktail, usually at the Paris Casino, just sitting on one of their outside tables simply observing people. Today isn't one of those days. After saying goodbye to Caroline, she hops a bus to the police station.
"Thanks, Bill," Elena tells the driver as she disembarks and jogs inside the building, going directly to Elijah's office.
"Hey," she calls out and pokes her head in, stepping over the threshold when he gives her a nod.
"Elena, how can I help you?" Elijah asks, turning in his chair to meet her eyes.
"I hope to give my audience an update on the murders. Did the surveillance video from Binion's turn up anything you can use?"
"Actually, we're going to go live with this photo," he admits, handing it to her, "although I don't know how anyone can recognize the man with how grainy it is," Elijah adds, frustration evident in his tone.
"You sound tired, Elijah. When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" Elena peruses the photo. Immediately, she sees what Elijah had meant. The person captured in the image is barely discernable.
"I'll sleep when I die..."
"Ha, ha," Elena retorts sarcastically and sits down.
"We have to catch this guy! It's frustrating that we have so little evidence."
"Have you looked into the FBI? Maybe they can clean this photo up with their technology?" Elena asks, trying to help.
"Already done. That could take weeks though, and we want to get this out there. Maybe we'll get a miracle?" Elijah sighs, emptying his coffee cup.
"I'll let you go then. Can I keep this?" she asks, waving the picture.
"Yeah, keep it. I'll walk you out," he says, opening his door for her.
"I hopped a bus, but you can walk me to the door if you want. I'll need to take a taxi home."
"Why didn't you drive?" Elijah questions, keeping pace beside her as they walk through the halls of the station.
"I met Caroline at The Hard Rock. No place to park."
"True enough," he stops when the sliding doors open.
"Bye, Elijah. Get some sleep," Elena calls over her shoulder and trots down the steps.
"Oh, Elena, if you know where to find Damon Salvatore, will you please tell him I'd like to talk to him? I have a couple of things I want to run by him."
"I thought you said he had nothing to do with the killings?"
"I know what I said- and I still believe that- but Chief Forbes wants me to clear up a couple of things."
"I'll tell him," Elena agrees, watching as he nods and ducks back into the building. Sighing, she walks to the curb to flag a taxi. It's probably time she makes an appearance at the office. Heaven forbid Ric was to forget she works for him.
Damon strolls inside Ric's workplace hoping to catch up a little. Blowing out an unneeded puff of air, he walks to the information desk to ask where he can find him. "Thank you, Genevieve," he remarks with a smile when she points him to his destination.
Seeing his friend's face deep in his computer, Damon raps on the doorframe and smirks when Ric looks up. "Where's the bottle?"
Ric doesn't bat an eye before raising his middle finger. "No 'hello'? No 'how's it going?' No 'good to see you?' Aside from that little episode in the Mojave Desert, we haven't seen each other in several years, and the first words out of your mouth are about bourbon?"
Damon narrows his eyes before replying. "Hello, Ric. Want to tell me what crawled up your ass?"
"Jerk," Ric answers, rolling his eyes but clearly fighting the smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "What are you doing here, Damon?"
"It's good to see you," Damon says, laughing and extending his hand to Ric, pulling him into a hug.
"I may or may not have missed you, too, but I don't miss all the vampire and supernatural-related chaos," Ric replies, giving him a few firm backslaps in return before pulling away and sitting back down. "Now answer my question. Why are you in Las Vegas?"
"Heard about the murders through the grapevine. It can't be Stefan this time, so let's just say my curiosity got the best of me," Damon explains, sitting down. He extends his legs, letting his feet rest on the corner of the desk.
"Do you have any hunches on who it is?" Ric leans back in his chair, hands behind his head.
"Not a one. The only other ripper I knew was my mother, and we both know that she's dead, too. I don't believe it's a ripper though; the bodies would've been in far worse shape. I showed you what Stefan was capable of..."
"Yeah, you did...Could this vampire have wanted to lure you here? A trap?" Ric ponders and slides open a desk drawer to pull out a bottle.
"Anything's possible but I haven't been confronted by any vampires. Kai is the only supernatural I've run into since I've been here and you took care of him...It's strange. Really strange. Thanks," Damon says, reaching for the bottle; he takes a long swallow and hands it back.
Ric takes one for himself, then he screws the lid back on and puts it away. "I don't want any part of that world again, Damon. It took me a long time to get over Jo. I still miss her every day, but I actually like my life now. I have a girlfriend, Jenna, and we're good. I don't want anything to screw that up. Do you understand?"
"Absolutely," Damon agrees. Swinging his legs to the floor, he gets up. "I'll see you around, Ric."
"Watch your back, okay?"
"Sure thing," Damon calls over his shoulder and leaves the building without looking back.
"Damon?" Elena calls and tries to catch up with him, but he's halfway down the sidewalk before she gets outside. Curious as to why he was at her place of employment, she goes back inside and heads straight to Ric's office. "Was that Damon Salvatore?" she asks from the threshold.
"Yes, it was. Why?" Ric asks, looking up at her.
"He mentioned you once but didn't elaborate. You two know each other?" she asks, snapping his door shut before sitting down.
"I knew him in a past life- one I left behind a long time ago- and one I don't want to revisit."
"I don't understand?" she puts forward, looking at him confused.
"It's a long story, Elena. The woman I loved was murdered on our wedding day by her sociopathic brother. She was pregnant with twins at the time," Ric says on a sigh, looking distant for a moment.
"Oh my God, that's tragic!" Elena exclaims. "I had no idea..."
"I came to realize those horrific things are commonplace in the circles that Damon associates himself with. I no longer wanted to be a part of it. It took a long time, but I had to remove myself from everyone I knew back then, Damon is one of those people."
"I know what he is, Ric. He told me..." Elena appraises, watching as his expression hardens.
Ric reaches for his bottle to take another quick swig. "Look, Elena, Damon's my best friend, but I don't need and, more importantly, I don't want the pandemonium that always follows the supernatural. You would be wise to remember that."
"He seems so human..."
"Yes, he does, but don't you get it, Elena? That's the illusion."
"Once the killer is caught-"
"What, Elena? Once the killer is caught, you and Damon live happily ever after? You want to believe he's suddenly going to pretend to be human? That's exactly what they want you to think. Even Damon."
"Excuse me?" she asks, her forehead creasing as she stares at him.
"The illusion that vampires are human. They're not! Most of them are cold-blooded killers. They care about nothing, not about the trail of bodies they leave behind or the lives left devastated in their wake. Some pretend to be charismatic and sophisticated, it's not real, Elena. That's the illusion."
"I like him, Ric. He's fun and charming, not to mention easy on the eyes."
"I like him, too. That's not what this is about. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I came to show you this," Elena deflects, handing him the photo that Elijah gave her.
"And?" Ric considers it.
"That's the man they believe is the killer."
"Poor quality. It's impossible to identify him with this. I don't understand why these casinos, quick stops, gas stations, and the rest don't get the kind of film in their security systems that will actually give the police something to work with," Ric remarks, shaking his head.
"Me neither. I think we should run this in tomorrow's paper. I can write something up."
"Go ahead," Ric concurs, handing it back to her.
Elena grabs it from him before leaving his office without saying a word. She can understand why Ric feels the way he does. He lost everything when he was a part of that world. But she doesn't know if she's there yet. Damon just sort of snuck up on her. There's something in those blue eyes that is so beautiful, so safe and warm. He's gotten under her skin and she's not quite ready to let go...
THE SHRIEK OF SIRENS pierces the chill December morning on Bogan Gates Drive. This quiet street is a relatively new part of an upscale neighborhood. The houses here have mostly red-brick façades with glossy black shutters, not unlike homes in Atlanta's more affluent districts. Buford is an ideal suburb for those who commute the thirty-five miles to Atlanta: large enough with over 14,000 residents to merit local shopping centers, but small enough to dissolve the tension that comes with driving the I-285 beltway that encircles Atlanta with bumper-to-bumper traffic. And Bogan Gates Drive itself is an oasis of serenity with its manicured lawns and colorful gardens. Children play under the watchful eyes of all the adults there. If some stranger should insinuate himself into this enclave, he would not go unnoticed.
Every community has its mysteries and secrets. A negative note, at least for some, is that close neighbors tend to know each other's secrets. There isn't the anonymity that exists in apartment buildings in large cities. Neither is there the loneliness that city dwellers sometimes feel. Even so, some families on this idyllic street have secrets that none of their neighbors could possibly imagine.
When reporters sweep into places like Bogan Gates Drive, they are certain to obtain numerous interviews from shocked residents who invariably say: "Something like this just doesn't happen here—not in our neighborhood!"
But on this day in early December of 2004, Bogan Gates Drive, in all its idyllic normalcy, is the site of one of the most horrific crimes in Georgia..."
Elena stops her recording when the sound of the doorbell cuts shrilly through her house. Finding Damon on her porch isn't unexpected, but she has so much to think about where he's concerned if she's to believe Ric.
"I wasn't expecting you?" she mentions, leaning against her doorframe but not inviting him in.
"I thought I'd surprise you. If you want me to leave...?" he asks.
"No, come on in." Elena steps aside, allowing him to pass before snapping the door closed. "I saw you leaving the newspaper today...?" she professes, leaving the question open-ended.
"I didn't see you."
"I gathered that; I went after you, but you were gone by the time I got outside. Why were you there?"
"I stopped by to say hello to Ric. We knew each other a long time ago."
"He told me, said I should watch my back," she states, tilting her head.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Elena. I would never."
She blows out a breath. "I want to believe you, Damon. I really do, but there's so much to consider," Elena replies, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.
"Ric has ample reason to feel the way he does. More than once, I gave him grounds to question our friendship. I've made bad choices many times in my life, but you're not one of them. I like you, Elena, I really do. I want this."
"I do too, Damon," Elena admits. She knows what Ric said should give her pause. Yet she can't deny her feelings either. She doesn't want to. When she's with Damon, he consumes her in so many ways.
"Elena?' Damon asks.
"Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment." She rises up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth.
"That's more like it!" Damon wraps his arms and around her body and dips her, stealing a headier kiss from her mouth before helping her stand back up.
"Whew! No one can say you don't know how to kiss," she says, waving her hand in front of her face to get some air.
"What's that?" Damon asks, pointing at the photo laying on Elena's coffee table.
"That's a picture of the alleged killer, caught by security cams," she explains, watching him closely as he picks it up. She's surprised by how intensely he studies it. "Do you recognize him?" Elena questions, coming to stand beside him.
"I can't explain it, but there's something familiar about him..."
Thank you again for all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. They're fuel for the writers.
Also thanks to Eva and to Morgan. Eva has "Christmas Carol". Morgan has "Quarantine Olympics". Both are amazing stories.
Chapter title: 'The Grand Illusion' by Styx.
In my opinion, no one writes DE quite like our dear friend, Florencia7. *Damon slid his hands into her hair, his eyes narrowing in a faint, warm smile. "You know what it means, Elena," he said in a low, melodic voice. "But you think it should mean something else. Something stable and calm. A safe-house. But love is a tempest, Elena. It isn't safe and it isn't kind. It breaks you, it heals you. It consumes you. Elena-" Perchance to Dream- it's my personal favorite.
My friend Salvatoreboys4ever has some great DE stories, too.
Be safe and have a wonderful day. See ya next time.