Episode 16: Date Night

"And in the end we were all just humans drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness."

Christopher Poindexter

c. 1697, Spain

I stood in front of an open window, a light breeze wafting in the salty scent of the sea. My hand moved swiftly from palette to canvas as I watched the sunset over a calm sea. The sunset in Cádiz was beautiful. The colors of the sky were a vibrant fiery mix of oranges, reds and pinks. The sea, muted in comparison, was a stark contrast of blues. I had to capture the beauty before the light disappeared.

"No need to rush," a voice said from beside me. The dark blond vampire I had seen in previous dreams stood behind his own easel, his wrist moving delicately across his canvas. "There will be another sunset tomorrow."

"But not this one," I replied. "Tomorrow the sky could be grey, or the waters turbulent." I continued painting as I talked. "Nothing in life is guaranteed. By tomorrow, we may never see the sun from this shore again. I should know, the last time I was here these lands belonged to the Phoenicians."

The vampire stopped and placed his tools on a side table, he moved around so that he could wrap his arms around me from behind. His chin resting on the top of my head. "Sometimes I forget you're older than me."

"Just my soul," I said. "This body won't last forever though."

"Then we shouldn't take anything for granted." The vampire gently took the paint brush and palette from my hands and set them to the side. I looked up at him in confusion as he turned me in his arms and leaned down to kiss my lips.

Mystic Falls, 2010

Damon had a glass of whiskey in his hands when I found him at the Grill. It was rare these days to see Damon without some kind of alcoholic drink within reach. Drinking wasn't unusual for him, but it had a sour note to it now, like the defeat was fermenting. I slipped onto the stool next to him, carding my fingers together on the bar.

"What do you want?" Damon barely looked away from his drink.

"Caroline is going on a double date with Elena and Stefan tonight," I started.

"So what? Are you proposing a Triple date?" Damon had a sour look on his face before his features smoothed out and he cocked his head in interest. "Sounds fun, we should sabotage it." He downed the remainder of his glass and stood from his seat.

"No," I said immediately, hopping up with him. "Not after the fundraiser disaster. Don't worry, they'll have plenty of tension to deal with without you."

"Then what are you telling me for?"

I shrugged, keeping a smile on my face. "I thought we could get out of town for the night, do something fun!"

"Okay, I can—" I stopped Damon by placing my pointer finger over his lips.

"Don't do anything. I'm planning it. Just meet me at our spot at 5, we'll go from there."

I arrived at our spot early and sat on Maggie's tombstone, my legs swinging as I waited.

Damon arrived on time. His lips turned down as he approached me. "Have you no respect for the dead?"

"It's not like there's actually a body buried here. Besides it's technically mine, I reserve the right to sit here if I want." I hopped off the gravestone and walked towards the forest.

"Come with me." I gestured for Damon to follow and led him to a parked yellow bug. "Caroline's riding with Matt, so I got the car tonight."

Damon grimaced as he eyed the bug. "We could have used my car."

"Sure, but I'm not telling you where we're going, and I figured you wouldn't like me driving your car."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "What are you planning?"

I smiled. "It's a surprise."

I drove us out of Mystic Falls. Damon's legs were bouncing the entire time, apparently my driving was too slow for him.

"I could've ran us there faster," he complained.

"You don't know where we're going."

"Because you won't tell me."

I chuckled. "You don't understand the concept of a surprise, do you?"

I parked the car in the lot of a large building with a bright neon sign.

"Bowling?" Damon said, as he read the sign for 'Whitmore Bowl.' "That was your big surprise?"

"Hey!" I placed my hand over my heart in mock offendedness. "Bowling is fun, and it's something you can't do in Mystic Falls. And it's such a human thing to do. Besides," I added, "I thought if I told you, you wouldn't want to come…"

"Please tell me this place has a bar."

I shrugged. "We'll find out."

The bowling alley did in fact have a bar, but it was closed for renovations. I had checked beforehand.

But maybe Damon wouldn't have kicked my ass so hard at bowling if he had some drinks in him. I quickly learned that having vampire powers makes one very good at bowling. Unfortunately, Phoenix's had no such advantage. Midway through the game, and the score was a lousy 63 to 150.

It was my turn to roll and I had stepped up to the lane ready to throw the ball when Damon stopped me.

"Hold on, no wonder you're losing so bad. Your stance is terrible."

I turned back to look at him seated at our station, surprise widening my face. "You're telling me you actually know how to bowl, it's not just some vamp trick?"

"Eh, a little of both. Here let me help." Damon came up behind me, moving my footing with his legs and adjusting my arms with his. He stayed wrapped around me as he moved my limbs for me.

"Back," he said as he moved my arm with the bowling ball back, and then as he swung our arms forward, "and release." The ball flew forward down the lane with more speed than it had any right to and knocked all the pins down. My first strike of the game.

"See, I don't think it counts if you use super strength," I said. "Where's the momentum? The velocity?"

Damon was still wrapped around me, his hands moved to rub my arms. It was comforting and intimate, and made my mind wander so that I almost didn't notice Damon's face inching closer.

"I'm thirsty," I said, extracting myself from Damon's arms. "You want anything?" I was heading towards concessions before he replied. As I waited in line I read the posters and ads tacked to a cork board on the wall. One of them presented an opening for a new art exhibit that night at the museum a block away. I got my soda to calm me down and returned to Damon, a new idea formed in my head.

"Okay," I said as I returned, the flyer in my hand, "so apparently there's an art museum down the street that's still open for a special exhibition. Wanna go?"

We were in less than half an hour later. The exhibit showcased various centuries old anonymous paintings, from around the world. Because it was a special opening event there was champagne and hor d'oeuvres served by caterers.

Damon grabbed two glasses for us, but I refused mine. Instead I ate my fill in prosciutto and bruschetta.

We walked around the perimeter of the exhibit slowly, in comfortable silence as we observed the artwork. Occasionally commenting on the parts we liked or disliked.

"I bet that was painted by a vampire." I said as we considered a painting of a pope. "They made it look all dark and brooding, you can see the anguish reflected in the Pope's expression."

Damon scoffed. "All these old paintings look like that."

"Well, in my experience when a historical work is found to be anonymous it usually means it was either done by a woman or a vampire," I said.

"Your experience?" Damon's brow furrowed. "How much of your previous lives do you remember?"

"Not much in the grand scheme of things," I explained, "mostly I remember as I'm reminded by something. Usually just facts or technical skills. That's probably why music came easily to me. The more vivid memories return to me in my sleep. And the emotions—" I stopped, feeling as though I may be sharing too much. My head ducked down as my cheeks grew warm. "Well you have an idea." I walked to the next painting along the wall. "What do you think? Woman or vampire?"

"A vampire woman," Damon answered.

"Oh, good answer. Real out of the box thinking."

We made a game of it then, to guess the identity of the artist: woman or vampire. Eventually, we crossed paths with a small group being led by one of the museum docents.

"These two paintings are from Spain sometime in the Late 17th Century. They were discovered hidden away at the Castle of Santa Catalina with various other works not displayed here. We believe they were done by the same artist at different stages in their artistic career."

One of the paintings she addressed was a landscape, appropriately titled: Sunset of Cádiz. I took in the colors of the Spanish sunset. My fingers itched as they remembered the brush strokes.

Next to it was a portrait the museum had titled Portrait of a Lady in Light. A portrait of an Indian woman, in a european-style dress with an off-shoulder neckline. Her hair was dark and curly and pulled up and away from her face. She looked off center, toward a window just off the canvas. Light danced off her brown skin, casting a glow of yellow and orange

I stayed to look at the paintings for a long time, even after the group had left.

"These weren't done by the same person," I said softly, "they were painted at the same time, by two different people."

"Yeah? You're an Art Historian now?" Damon teased. I ignored it.

"I was the one who painted the landscape, the portrait is of me."

Damon stepped closer to the painting to admire it's detail, or maybe he just wanted to get closer to me as he put a hand on my waist. "That's you?"

I nodded. "Quite a few lifetimes ago. I was called Noor at the time."

Damon looked at the portrait of Noor for a few minutes longer. "Whoever painted this must have loved you very much."

"He does," I answered automatically. I tried to back track. "I mean he did. Sorry, sometimes I get lost in the memory, and it's hard for me to distinguish between what's happened in the past and what's happening now."

"If you need a reminder on what's happening right now, I could help." Damon's lips grazed my ear as he spoke.

I stepped out of Damon's grasp, a flurry of emotions were running through me and I couldn't decipher them all at the moment.

"It's getting late," I said, "we should head back."

The drive back to the boarding house was silent. When I parked the car in the driveway of the boarding house I sat there for a moment, thinking about Damon.

"Do you want to come in? Have a drink?" he offered.

"Damon…" I gestured to the steering wheel, "I'm driving."

"You can stay here," he countered. "Or I could drive the car to your house and run back."

He made a persuasive argument. I considered it for half a moment before unbuckling my seat belt and following Damon into his house.

Damon went to the bar first, pouring two glasses of whiskey. He drank part of one and then handed the second over to me.

I swirled the liquid in the glass before deciding to take a sip of my own. Damon stared at me as I gulped it down, my face betraying the slight disgust at the taste. I put the nearly full glass back down.

"Thanks for tonight," he said.

"Really?" I replied in disbelief. "You didn't think it was totally lame?"

"Oh, well, bowling…." He teased, his grin showing his teeth for once. "But, I liked spending time with you."

I blushed, looking away for a moment. Damon took another swig of his drink.

"You know part of why I took you out was to get you to drink less." I said, looking pointedly at his near empty glass. "Guess I failed miserably at that."

Damon finished his drink. "What's wrong with me drinking?"

"I'm just worried about you." I took Damon's empty glass away from him, sliding it in front of my own drink. "You left for weeks without saying anything, and then I found you plastered and heffing it up with a bunch of sorority girls."

Damon opened the whiskey bottle again. "Look, about that, it wasn't anything," he started pouring into a third glass. I put the stopper back on the bottle mid pour.

"Obviously you're using alcohol as a coping mechanism." I took the whiskey away, Damon's hands clenched around the bottle before letting it go.

"Coping mechanism?" Damon repeated in disbelief. "Drinking just curbs—"

"Curbs the urges, yeah I know. I heard. But what you're doing is more than that. You're wallowing!" Damon made a face but I kept going. "You're wallowing in self-pity and the idea that you failed. But you didn't, you didn't fail Maggie." I stepped closer to Damon, my hand reached up to rest over his heart. I could feel its slow beat under my fingers. "This isn't what I- She would want for you."

Damon looked as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. He reached for the bottle, then stopped. He reached up to his hair, but stopped. He sighed and then his hands squeezed my arms.

"You're right." Damon stared into my eyes. His stare took my breath away, it was like he was seeing me for the first time. "I've been hard on myself and tonight helped me realize, none of it matters. Not Katherine, or the tomb, or even Maggie's death. Because that was always just a half-truth, wasn't it? You're the real deal, a reincarnation."

"A phoenix," I corrected, breathless. My heart was beating faster under Damon's gaze, as the feeling that had been growing all night felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

"Whatever you are, you're the girl I've been missing for the past 145 years." Then Damon was pulling me in, guiding me forward until our lips met. The feeling was surprisingly warm, although I suspect that had more to do with me than Damon. And if I hadn't actually been on fire before, I might have worried that I was going to burst into flames now. His skin —where my hand skimmed up his arm and then snaked around his neck— was cool to the touch. All of Damon's longing and desperation was in that kiss, and I smiled mid-kiss because I knew now that Damon wasn't looking for the past. This was all for me—for the present.

We broke apart for a second so that I could breathe and then Damon deepened the kissing. With a growl Damon lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctually. Faster than I could perceive, Damon had me balanced between him and the wall, while his hands held me in a caress.

It felt good to be in his arms again. I smiled into the kisses, biting into Damon's lower lip as one of his hands travelled up my shirt.

Before our make-out session could go any further I heard someone call out with a hint of disbelief.

"Charlie!?"

The sound of my sister's voice was like a bucket of cold water, and it broke me from whatever sexually fueled trance Damon had put me in. My feet hit the floor and my hands righted my clothes before I could look at Caroline.

She stood at the entryway with Matt, who couldn't look at me at the moment. His eyes darted away and his cheeks were stained a light pink. I had a feeling my face wasn't any less red.

I cleared my throat as Stephan and Elena entered, shocked looks mirrored on their faces.

The awkward silence was killing me.

"So? How was the double date?"

No one really answered and after that awkward entrance, Caroline said goodnight to Matt and left with me.

Care took the driver's seat because she could smell alcohol on me, even though I told her I barely had any. It was silent for a few minutes as we drove off the Salvatore property. I glanced at Caroline as she drove, her face unreadable.

"So... how was your night?" I ventured.

"Matt and Elena talked about their past dates the whole night!" Caroline burst out, as if she had been holding it in.

My eyebrows knit together as I tried to process my sisters emotion. "What? You mean they couldn't think of anything else to talk about?"

Caroline laughed. "No, they really couldn't. And then Stefan showed off this vintage car he has and I completely lost Matt to the bromance."

I snorted. "To be fair, the Salvatore's have some pretty nice rides. I take it that means the night was a bust then?"

"There were some nice moments with Matt, but we're definitely never double dating again." Caroline's fingers drummed on the steering wheel as the conversation lulled. "I take it you and Damon are no longer 'just friends'"

I blushed, again. "Sometimes friends kiss."

"Sometimes, but you don't."

"I kissed Tyler that one time."

Caroline shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "Spin the bottle doesn't count."

"I don't know where Damon and I are at, it just happened. We didn't really talk about it beforehand." I looked out the window, afraid that I would see hurt or anger or worse— disappointment— in my sisters eyes.

"I told you I'd stand by you." Caroline said, and when I turned to look at her I didn't see any of my fears. "It's just, seeing it, live action, it's a little…"

"Weird?"

"Yes! So weird."

"We'll be more discreet," I said, the heat within me rising to a blush on my cheeks as I thought of there being more moments like tonight with Damon. "If there's something to be discrete about."