Stalking Mrs. Salvatore

Well, after a revelation such as that, you'd best believe Stefan and Elena had followed Damon to the Mystic Grill. Not that Damon hadn't noticed them, he just ignored them as always. They sat in a booth on the opposite side of the Grill, with a full view of Damon waiting patiently with a bourbon by the bar.

"I just can't wrap my mind around it." Elena said, still processing the shock, "Damon is married. Did you know about this?"

"If I did, Elena, I wouldn't be sitting here with you right now." Stefan pointed out.

"What do you think she's like? Is she a vampire he met? Would he even marry a human?" Elena queried, the fingers on the hand where she rested her head tapping rhythmically on her temple, "For that matter, what's she like? As a person? I thought his heart was set on Katherine, so what kind of person could she be to convince Damon Salvatore of all people to get married?"

"I doubt he takes it seriously." Stefan said, "Otherwise, we would have known her before now."

"Do you think she's like Damon? Personality-wise, I mean." Elena asked, even though she was still more inside her own head trying to envision this woman. So far, she was imagining a tall, slender vampire woman dressed in red and black with one of those corset tops and a leather jacket to match Damon's. The perfect partners in crime. Like Bonnie and Clyde.

Stefan seemed to sense her thoughts, "God, I hope not."

Elena paused, giving a heavy sigh as she tried to shake off the image of the dominatrix-esque Mrs. Salvatore in her head. "All that said, it would be unfair to judge her before meeting her. She may very well be a very nice person, vampire or otherwise."

"I don't know, I imagine marriage to Damon does things to you." Stefan joked.

Elena laughed, reaching out to hold Stefan's hands with a grin. "Well, I hope she's not the only woman to bear the title of Mrs. Salvatore."

Stefan leaned in closer to her across the table, "Is that a proposal?"

Their lips were almost touching, "Maybe." A mere hair's width away from a kiss, Elena noticed Damon standing up from his bar stool as if to greet someone.

"Wait, I think she's here." Elena said, pulling away. Stefan's eyes were now trained on the door looking for any possibilities, while Elena's eyes focused on the unmistakable happiness that lingered in Damon's eyes as he stood waiting for the person to approach him.

But the woman who walked right up to Damon Salvatore, her hands outstretched to embrace him, and were kissed like a debutante at a ball when the hug was over, was nothing like they were expecting.

For, as it happened, Mrs. Salvatore was an 89-year-old human woman.

She was small, like a lot of elderly women her age. She was almost half the size of Damon. Short, curly white hair that surrounded a tanned but wrinkled face. With glasses that made this sweetly smiling old lady look slightly bug-eyed. Mrs. Salvatore was also quite a snazzy dresser. She had a dark blue dress, which didn't have any designs, but the color popped against her gold jewelry. She even had some classy, close-toed heels to match. Mrs. Salvatore also had a glasses chain with plastic pink flowers and multicolor beads in no particular order, clearly made by a grandchild.

Although only Stefan and Elena knew from context that this woman was his wife, the rest of the establishment did look around at the odd couple with similar expressions to theirs. But after a minute, they decided this must be some older relative or family friend who'd dropped by to visit and moved on from the momentary distraction.

Stefan, after a few moments of utter shock, managed to get out, "I, uh, was not anticipating that."

Elena just couldn't take her eyes off the scene.