Jessa stood at the mirror in her very steamy bathroom wrapped in a towel and trying to decide if she felt like makeup and hair after waking from THAT dream with Damon. She tilted her head and tried to decide how old she really looked. Damon had stopped aging at 24, although with men, who could really tell? She wasn't really sure. Given her small stature, being short and a little curvy, she tended to look younger than her pretended age of 25. She raised her eyebrow, considering, when she felt Damon swoosh into the bathroom.
"Damon," she said, slightly singsong. "Is this really a good idea? I mean, I'm naked." She motioned to her towel covered, damp body.
She watched as he prowled up behind her. His eyes drank in her form and she could see the pupils darken. Jessa refused to move, regardless of how predatory he looked. And honestly, he was entirely too sexy to stop. Damon stopped just inches from pressing against her back, and leaning in he ran his nose the length of her shoulder.
"How do you ALWAYS smell like honeysuckle?" His voice was barely a rasp, and she felt his lips replace his nose. "I've used every single bath product you own, and NONE of them smell like you do." He nipped lightly and she gave a shudder. "Are you ok, Jessa? Should I move away?"
He was playing with her, and she knew it, but was completely helpless to move away. She cleared her throat and looked into his eyes through their reflection. "I haven't really noticed what I smell like, Damon." She smiled, and stayed still. "Although, now that you mention it, you don't smell like any of the cleansers in your bathroom either."
Damon raised his eyebrow and waited for further explanation. "You smell like clean pine trees and slightly like fireplace smoke. It smells like home." She said the last on a whisper that she knew he caught. "Anyway," she said, trying to clear the air and change the subject.
"You've always been home to me," Damon said, loud and clear. "You, the way you've always made me feel." He turned her to face him, gently and cupped her chin to force her to look up at him. "Everything that I said in that dream, Jessa, every single word was EXACTLY how I feel." He didn't wait for her to answer, just dropped down and kissed her with every emotion that he was feeling. Even without the certainty that they both wanted, that Elena and every doppelgänger past or future were not a threat to them. He knew with a certainty that both exhilarated and terrified him. He loved her, and he knew that they promised not to rush, but he hadn't ever been known for being rational.
Jessa fell into him, praying for their shared sanity that her towel would stay in place. She knew what he was saying, she felt it too. She was terrified of the doppelgänger power over him, but at the same time she was certain that they were supposed to be together. She felt a lightness that shocked her, and she was scared that rushing wasn't a good idea and that they weren't sure that they had ANYTHING figured out. She felt like she couldn't give a care about waiting. She wanted him, and she loved him. Damn the fear and uncertainty she thought, as her hand slid into his hair and held him just as tightly as his arm around her held her.
Later, after they both were clean and dressed, they found themselves in the library. She was curled on one end of an overstuffed sofa with her feet resting in his lap as he sat in the middle. His hand cradled a glass of burden, and his other tap danced on her ankle. She was reading the journal, and looked frustrated, but focused.
Damon was thinking about whether or not she'd agree to meet up with the "meddling kids" as she called the ragtag group intent of rescuing Stefan from Klaus. Jessa wasn't very social, she hadn't really been when they were young either, preferring his company to the rest of the town. She had spent her time with him, concocting mischief that was bound to get them punished, his harsher and more physical compared to hers, and reading constantly.
When Liz and let him know that Jessa was a published author, he'd looked up the books under her multiple pseudonyms. She wrote so many different genres, a thought that he should be surprised at her ease of writing passed through him. Having known her, even up to the fairly young age of 13, he wasn't. She'd been one of the few women he'd known during that time that felt like knowledge wasn't just power, it was required. And she'd been right. He smiled as he watched her soak in the writings of her mother's history, and wasn't surprised when she called him on it.
"It's very weird to be watched whilst I'm reading, Damon," she said, not looking up. "Perhaps you could pick up your own tome, and then you'd be just as engrossed as me?" She still sounded far too uptight for his liking. The reading, and learning from her mother wasn't going well.
"What if I'd rather just look at the cover of a masterpiece?" He said, knowing that she needed a moment's reprieve from her studies. "Especially if the image of that masterpiece, just glistening after a bath, with a towel barely covering every little secret I can't wait to discover keeps coming to the forefront of my memory?" He felt her foot twitch and looked down at the bare skin. He was distracted when he noticed unnatural color at the ankle. Raising her jeans up slightly, he brushed his thumb against the tattoo that marred her perfect skin. "You have ink?"
Jessa shut the journal gently and twitched her left foot, the one he was holding lightly. "Yeah, I got it in the 60s. Seemed to be the thing to do." She watched him look at the dainty flower, and saw his realization dawn.
"Lilies," he whispered, looking up at her. "Obviously for my mother." He smiled sadly at her. Knowing that the loss of his mother had hit her just as hard. "Why did you pick this shade of blue?" He asked, quietly.
"I've always loved the color," she said, about to open the journal again. She noticed him comparing the color to his daylight ring. "Damon?"
"It's the same shade, Jessa." He said, bending her knee slightly so she could see what he meant. "Exactly the same shade as lapis lazuli, and the ink almost shimmers." He bent his head, studying the tattoo with far more enthusiasm than she thought necessary.
"Damon," she said, drawing his attention from her ankle. "It's a tattoo. I got it to commemorate someone who I loved and who passed. There's nothing hidden in the meaning. No flash of compulsion made me get it, it was random, I swear." She knew that they were getting prone to searching for signs everywhere, but this was a little much.
He smirked at her, and bent low enough to drop a kiss on top of the tattoo, then pulled her jeans leg down over it. Taking a sip of his bourbon, he looked on as she reopened the journal. "I see you're almost at the end." He said, gesturing toward the book.
She didn't glance up, intent on finishing the last couple pages. "Yes, as much as it helps." She was really irritated that nothing in the book was sparking her knowledge of how to fix anything they were dealing with in the Originals and Stefan. "I was hoping that there would have been a spell that would reverse some part of my mother's little gifts, but that was asking far too much. And there was a little expectation that she'd explain how her relationship with my dad happened, or at least how this," she gestured between herself and Damon, "is supposed to work."
Damon, rubbed her foot absently, trying to think of a way to help. "So, nothing helpful?" He asked, stalling for time to think something up.
"It helps knowing that I'm the second in a line of beings that have apparently been here since the dawn of time. At least I know why I've always felt a little out of sync with the everyone on this ball. And the fact that while I'm technically second in the line, I'm also different because of my actual parentage. So that would explain why my mother and I aren't exactly the same power wise." She said, still reading through the last page. "I know that my mother created a species simply to have a partner/mate. I can't tell if that's sad, romantic, or creepy. And I know that somehow I can fix our situations, but I just don't have the exact understanding." She groaned, finishing the last sentence, and slammed the book shut.
"Hey," Damon said, drawing her attention to him. "You don't have to figure it out in a week, Jessa." She looked so crestfallen at having access to powers, but not knowing how to utilize them in the current situation. "WE will figure this out, I promise." His blue eyes locked onto her green ones, and they shared an understanding. "Now, I have a proposition."
Jessa raised her eyebrow, but waited for him to continue. "The 'meddling kids' are having a pow-wow at the boarding house today. Come. Meet them, hell bring the journal, I know that they can't read it. Maybe you could read it and together we'll figure something out." Her first thought was to refuse, but she considered what he was asking and realized he might be right. There was the Bennett witch and Alaric was supposed to have some idea of supernatural issues.
"Ok, I'll come." She said, sighing. "I can't see what my mother's point with this journal was, other than bragging, so perhaps new perspectives could help." She laughed at his expression, looking like she'd just begun speaking Greek. "What? I can be social."
Damon shot her a unbelieving glance and she chuckled. "Ok, I can force myself to be social. Besides, I think it's time that you get the full story in this book, too. And honestly, I'd rather have some other people around as a buffer." She knew she was being as vague as her mother, but honestly, what was in the book, or more important missing from the book scared her. "Let me get my shoes."
They took the conventional route to the boarding house and arrived a half an hour later. As she parked her rental car, she could tell that everyone had already gathered and were waiting. She could also hear how the people she hadn't met yet were very curious to meet her.
"How do we know we can trust her?" Jessa heard as they opened the front door. The voice wasn't raised, and she realized too late that she wasn't shielding herself from her far improved hearing. It was male voice, gruff and a little aggressive.
"Because," Elena's voice reasoned, "she could have killed me at any time, Tyler. She saved me. And she saved Caroline."
They turned into the library, and Jessa took in the group. Alaric, she could tell by his slightly advanced age, was standing at the bar trying to decide if it was too early for a drink. Elena was standing in the middle, either rebel rousing, or simply defending Jessa's honor. Caroline sat on the sofa with a light skinned girl who must be the Bennet witch by default. Bonnie, Damon had told her, on the ride over. A dark haired teenage boy sat holding Bonnie's hand, his untidy hair and sad eyes marked him as Elena's little brother Jeremy. A blonde teenage boy and his dark haired friend stood off to the side in the corner, clearly uncomfortable with the setting, Matt Donovan, and Tyler Lockwood, she guessed.
Elena, unlike Jessa was the ultimate hostess or at least social butterfly, she rushed forward and drew Jessa by her free hand into the room fully. Since her other hand held the box with the journal, it was a move well worked. Although the urge to have Elena touch it, just so she could see the strength of the repulsion spell was still at a peak. Oh, well, perhaps she'd find a moment to test it during this "meeting".
"Jessa," Elena said, introducing her to the room at large, and daring any of her friends to make a rude comment. "These are my friends," again she glanced around, rebel rousing, Jessa realized. "And I'd like them to introduce themselves to you. Officially." She added, with an slight glare.
Caroline, the second in the room to be the product of southern grooming, smiled. "Jessa, we've met, sort of, already. I'm Caroline Forbes." She held out her hand as she stood from her seat. Jessa took it gently, controlling her superior strength without difficulty.
"It's good to see you in better health, Caroline." Jessa replied, with a rueful grin. "Try to keep out of the vervain, would you?" A chuckle escaped the baby vampire, and she sat down and nudged the witch beside her.
"Hello, Jessa." Bonnie said, with a less than enthusiastic smile. "I'm Bonnie Bennet." She was at war with herself over whether to offer her hand to this new element. Jessa took the option out of her inner argument and offered hers first. She felt the tingle run through her hand into the still seated witch's and noticed the younger woman's eyes widen.
"Bonnie?" Jessa said, refocusing the Bennet witch's attention on her face. "What are you feeling?"
"You-" Bonnie started, her eyes showing fear tinged with interest. "are more powerful, than ANYTHING I've ever touched."
"Yes," Jessa said, clearing her throat slightly. "Well, I hope I can explain. Soon." She clarified.
Jeremy was watching Bonnie's reaction carefully, and he looked at Jessa's still outstretched hand with worry. "Jessa," he said, not glancing up. "I'm Elena's brother, Jeremy. I think I'll pass on the shake, if you don't mind."
Jessa chuckled, and withdrew her hand. "It's not a situation I care to force on anyone, Jeremy. It's nice to meet you, though, I hope you can hear the truth of it in my voice." He looked up and gave a short nod.
Alaric approached from the bar. "I actually already met you, as well." He said, extending his hand. "You were comatose at the time, so I don't guess it counts." His smile was nearly as mischievous as Damon's and she could sense that they were friends, more so than either of them truly understood.
"If I can't make you out of the fog, then nope, doesn't count." She said, taking his hand and smiling up at him. "It's nice to meet you, Alaric." He took note that Damon must have described them all to her, seeing as he hadn't offered his name.
She released his hand and turned to the more antagonistic two in the corner. "Matt Donovan," she said, nodding at the blonde. "And, our resident wolf, Tyler Lockwood, I presume." She didn't approach, allowing them their space in a room they clearly were uncomfortable in. "As Elena was assuring you before I walked in, I'm not a danger to you. I'd much rather we'd have had the opportunity to meet under far more pleasant circumstances, but I'm sure she's filled you in on some of my history with Mystic Falls." She could see their discomfort grow. "Regardless, here I am, and I hope that some of what I'm planning on sharing with all of you about me, my species, so to speak will help."
"Your species?" Tyler asked, brow furrowed. "I thought you just couldn't die. Are you something dark, creepy, and dangerous, too?" He was clearly still struggling with his rage. The very component that made his curse take fruit, was going to be a stumbling block for him unless he worked on it. Jessa could sense it clearly, but she chose to not articulate it.
"Yes, dick," Damon said, glaring at the wolf-boy. "She's a different species. And if you'd stop clinging to the corners like you're about to take out the crowd, she'll tell you about it. It'll be like a bedtime story your parents should have told you." His anger was triggered, his urge to protect Jessa was paramount.
"Damon," Jessa warned, knowing that a bite while Tyler was human shouldn't hurt him, but not willing to take the chance. "It's fine. Yes, Tyler, as Damon said I plan on explaining it. If you're all willing to bear with me, I'll share everything I know about what I am." She looked around, wanting a consensus. "I have to warn all of you," she looked at Damon, "the answers aren't clear. I'm not even sure there are the answers we want, but I'm at a loss. I've read this book five times and it's not any clearer now than on the first go."
She had looked away when she confessed to having read the book more than once, so she wouldn't see the confusion on Damon's face. She didn't want to even consider how after five times, nothing was close to clear. And she was terrified that he'd lose faith in her.
"Well?" She asked, wanting verbal confirmation, or at least a settling in for the reading. "Will all of you listen, and help me figure it out?"