Old friends and newbie vampires

by Kimchihuahuafan

Darren is an old friend of Damon's, and Darren's girlfriend has been turned, and she doesn't have the best control. So what's a guy to do -but turn to his old buddy Damon Salvatore, and his lovely wife Elena. Cannon character pairings, Damon & Elena, and other characters I created - who will be just as much fun - and it belongs to the original creators at Warner Bros.

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 old friends and newbie vamps

As always – TVD theme, characters etc. belong to the CW, Warner brothers and surely half a dozen other people. Think of fanfic as a tribute to your work.

For the readers who follow this story, I must say I wish I could have churned out 10 more intensely wonderful chapters for you, but life being what it is . . . it didn't happen. I pulled back muscles, family stuff came up, and my muse and imagination basically just crapped out and disappeared. Of course now that nursing school is starting back up on the Monday the 6th January, my muse has suddenly returned. I hope you like what it turns out in the weeks to come, and I hope it lets me get my studying done.

Enjoy the read, send me comments and reviews!

~~OFANV~~

Damon liked to think he was pretty adept at most things. Over his 200 years he'd had time to acquire a lot of skills. He'd could remodel a house, and do most basic house repairs. He could work on his cars – even the electric ones that were so popular now in the 2040's. Using computer's had come easy to him. Bringing one home, turning it on, picking up an internet signal – again easy.

But what his friend Darren was doing right now was totally beyond Damon. Damon wasn't sure he wanted to know. He, Damon, might be the dangerous devious one – but Darren was brilliant with things and made connections with some things Damon couldn't. Damon wasn't sure if it was just because Darren was little bit crazy, or if he just had the techy gene that some people had and some people didn't.

They'd moved the bedroom around, set up the folding tables that Darren had stashed along with the other stuff he and Alexandra brought from Seattle – which wasn't much. It was all Darren's computer stuff, her pots and pans and cooking utensils, a few knick knacks and cloths. It all fit in Darren's SUV, with room to spare.

Darren's computer stuff was all in sealed containers, kept them safe from moisture and dust, and Darren unpacked it, set it out, now they were just running the fiber optic lines between them.

"I thought wireless was like the way to go," Damon said, "convenience and all that."

"I need processing power and working memory," Darren replied, "If I linked these wirelessly, I'd lose half of what I get out of them if they are actually linked with fiber optic line."

"You're specialty," Damon replied, "I'll take your word for it . . . but which line do I use?"

Darren turned around, grinning. Alexandra didn't get this part either.

"Just lay them out on the bed – like next to like, that will make it easier for me when I daisy chain them," Darren replied.

Damon sighed, "Oooo-Kaaayy," Damon replied, dragging out the word, "glad one of speaks computer nerd."

He started to pull bundled lines out, and laid them out, trying to organized them based on how they looked. Most of it he could match up. What he couldn't – there was a 'who the hell knows' pile.

"You're not exactly poor, couldn't you just buy some big huge super computer?" Damon asked him.

"What do you think these components are?" Darren asked him, gesturing to the stacks of plastic encased boxes, "you don't want to know how much money is actually sitting here."

Damon smirked, "Did you buy them or . . ."

Darren laughed, "These I bought. It's not worth stealing them. The heist would take too many people, cost –benefit, it just doesn't pencil out. Besides, I'm the good guy now."

Damon sighed wistfully, "Yeah, I get that. Believe me, I get that."

It took a few hours to get it set up, but then Darren was up and running.

Damon stood back, watched his friend disappear into a whole different world.

~~OFANV~~

Alexandra was carrying laundry up from the utility a room, and she paused at the top of the steps, seeing Damon come out of the room.

"Mind boggling isn't it," Alexandra said, "I thought I was pretty good with computers until I met him."

"I have to come up with a new nick name for him after that!" Damon said, shaking his head, "it's like that mad scientist- techy style - 2.0 in there!"

"That is why we had a two bedroom apartment," Alexandra said, "imagine sleeping in the same room with all that."

Damon smirked, and did that suggestive gesture with his eyebrow, "Not what Elena and I use our bedroom for."

"Exactly," Alexandra replied, "He'll be in there for a few hours – maybe all day. You might as well settle in for the day or find something else to do. He might as well be on another planet."

~~OFANV~~

It started to snow. Damon and Elena were taking the day to enjoy the sights and sounds of New York City during the holiday season. They'd dressed warmly, heavier jeans, warm coats, scarves, hats and gloves. They'd taken a cab downtown, getting out in the shopping district.

Elena laughed a little, looked up at the sky, closed her eyes for a moment and just reveled in the feel of the snowflakes hitting her face.

Damon watched her, smiling. Thirty some years later, it was still these simple things that got to him. He laughed with her, and then pulled her close, and kissed her deeply, right there in the middle of a busy New York City sidewalk. She kissed him back, snaking her arm around her neck. It was these moments that made their lives worth living. The heightened senses, reveling in the moment, just like now, the intense sensation of how her lips felt against his, her fingers, stroking up the back of his neck into his hair . . .

"Get a room!" Someone said, brushing by them.

The kiss broke, both of them laughing a little.

"So Mrs. Salvatore, where do we want to go?" he asked.

Elena smiled, "Nowhere. I am right where I want to be."
She brushed her lips across his, but it was a quick gentle kiss, "but since we're here . . ."

She enmeshed her fingers with his, and they walked into a department store.

It was busy – even though it was a weekday, all the holiday shoppers were busily sorting through racks and poring through items on display tables. There was an excitement in the air – for most people. Some of the shoppers looked pissed, but most looked like they were nursing along some frantic but pleasurable high. That's what it seemed like to Damon – that's what he thought it must be like for a human. For him, for a vampire, he likened the department store to a buffet. His heightened senses could pick up thousands of scents, and most of them were very enticing. He breathed deeply, letting his mind conjure up an idea of what some of them might taste like.

He heard Elena take a deep breath, and he wondered if she was thinking about the items on the racks and tables, or what some of the warm fresh blood coursing through so many veins might taste like. They wandered through the store, looking at whatever caught her eye or his, occasionally both of them caught a scent, and they exchanged those knowing glances. Back out on the street again, they walked along the sidewalk, stopped at a vender who was selling roasted nuts, the strong rich scent drawing them in. The picked up coffee as well, and then made their way into the park, found a bench, and sat down.

"I love days like this," Elena said, sipping her coffee.

"It beats . . . hell, a lot of things," Damon replied, thinking of some of the holidays he had before Elena. When he'd been a child, and his mother had was alive, those were happy moments he'd thought were lost to him forever. For 147 years his holidays had been spent drinking himself into oblivion usually, liquor, blood or both.

She rested her head on his shoulder, slid her hand into his again.

"If we have to move – to stay safe – we'll do it. I know we haven't been here long, but . . ."

"Hey," Damon said, dropping her hand and putting his arm around her shoulders, "We'll be fine – and if it gets too dangerous, we'll leave. We can do just what Richard said – leave it alone. We don't do the things that attracts attention – usually. We've been up against a lot worse and came out just fine."

Elena nodded, "We went through hell though."
"It is our life," Damon said, trying to sound lighthearted, "Come on – we'd get bored if it was smooth sailing all the time."

She gave a short laugh, "We've had some long patches of peace and quiet."

Damon plucked a warm cashew out of the little bag, popped it in his mouth, "Remember our first year in Texas?"

Elena smiled. They'd stayed long enough in Mystic falls that it was time to leave. People who were not in the know – and surprisingly, there were a lot – would start to notice soon that they did not age. They hadn't been able to decide where to move, there were so many choices. So they'd spread out a map of the country, and tossed a coin in the air, where it landed was where they'd move.

They'd ended up in Texas. They'd moved in the early spring, and the weather was nice, temperate. They knew it would get hot in the summer. It got hot in mystic falls in the summer. By august, they were cracking jokes about having moved to hell. It hit 117 degree's one day. They'd rented a house, and every time they turned around something was breaking. A pipe broke, flooding the basement. Some neighborhood kids playing baseball broke a window. Then the air conditioning went out.

Their landlord was decent, and he fixed things quickly, or paid them when Damon just did it. But the air conditioning had taken days to get fixed. Damon finally announced that it wasn't their time to roast in hell, and they checked into a hotel.

Out of boredom, they'd ended up doing occasional bar tender shift at a bar and grill that become one of their favorite haunts. The season's turned, and they made jokes about decorating a cactus instead of a Christmas tree. The temperature had dropped, and then the heat failed. Damon finally lost it and announced that they were moving. He compelled the landlord to let them out of their lease.

The next house didn't have any problems. They'd spent six years there. It was the easiest six years of their life.

"We had fun in Texas," Elena said, "We've had fun every place we've been."

"Some more than others," Damon commented.

Elena looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Washington DC kind of sucked," Damon said, "Which was why we only lived there two years."

Elena groaned, "God what a nightmare – everyone was perpetually pissed off."

"New Years Eve, our 2nd year in Seattle," Damon said, "We were at that party at the top of the space needle, something went wrong with the fireworks show, and nothing happened for like 20 minutes, then they all went off at once."

"I want to go back to Cairo," Elena said, "Someday – get in on some archeological dig."

Damon shrugged, "I'd say as soon as it calms down, but let's face it, it never calms down – and we do have this handy little gift called immortality . . ."

"Our next move maybe," Elena said, "Or the one after that . . . I'd have to read up on my Egyptian history, and the politics."

"And we'd have to learn the language," Damon added, "isn't there like a tons of different dialects of the same language over there?"

Elena shrugged, "I have no idea actually – think of the libraries there – all the historical documents . . ."

Damon gave her an excited mock grin, "We could compete for blood with those man-eating beetles in those mummy horror movies!"

Elena laughed, "I think that was totally faked."

Damon raised an eyebrow, "They said that about vampires too. . ."

~~OFANV~~

Alexandra did her and Darren's laundry, then dove into some housekeeping – just to stay busy. There wasn't much to do, Elena and Damon kept their house pretty clean and organized. She'd wiped down all the surfaces in the kitchen with bleach wipes, and she'd wiped down the entire interior of the fridge, the freezer, and cleaned the two convection ovens.

She'd have hopped on line to check her email and social media pages, but she didn't want to take any bandwidth from Darren right now, so instead, she'd settle back down with a book on her tablet. She was just starting to think about what she might make for dinner when Darren finally emerged from the bedroom that became his new temporary office.

His hair was tied back at the base of his neck, and he had that weary look on his face that told her it had been a frustrating day.

He came down the steps, leaned over and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

"I'm gonna get a bag – want one?"

She sighed, "Yeah . . . I haven't had one today . . . I probably should."

He disappeared down stairs to the basement, and came back with two bags.

He handed one to her, and sank down on the sofa next to her. She had her shoes off, her legs up on the sofa, so when he sat down, he slid closer, pulling her legs across his lap. He'd pulled the plug off the bag with his teeth, spit it out into his hand, and took a long deep drink.

She sipped hers, watching him. It still amazed her that she liked the taste. It was different now – because she as a vampire. Before when she was human, if she bit her lip or tongue hard enough, she'd notice the coppery taste. Darren's blood – when she drank from him (and he really did seem to enjoy it when she did), his blood had tasted sweet. It freaked her out at first, and she only did it because she needed too – the first time she'd been hurt, broke her arm after falling down a set of stairs. It had been a freak accident. The other times, later in their relationship, it was usually because Darren drank a little too much when he drank from her and the sex was always so much more intense when he drank from her during sex. Soon, she'd found she actually like the taste of Darren's blood – it was different somehow. Richer, sweeter, instantly addictive . . .

Now . . . blood – human blood – didn't have that same coppery taste. It was there, but it was different somehow. It was richer somehow and sweet, but not like Darren's blood.

She watched Darren now, and she knew he was working through something in his head. She waited a while, watching, until he finished the bag, and set it aside.

"So what's got you so pensive," Alexandra said, "I know that look."

"Richard's phone is consistently in the area," Darren said, "but so is someone else's. He's human, I think. He runs an underground fetish nightclub."

Alexandra nodded, "Well, I didn't figure whoever it was would be exactly normal."

Darren bent his arm, rested it on the back of the sofa, and leaned his head on his hand, and watched Alexandra, "I'm not 100% sure he is human though."

Alexandra ran a hand through her hair, "OK . . . "

"The fetish club is for people who do role playing – as vampires. Our copycat might be a human pretending to be a vampire," Darren told her, "Or a vampire, pretending to be a human who is pretending to be a vampire."

Alexandra blinked, "OH . . . damn . . . that's . . . I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Neither do I," Darren said, "The pisser is – we could just ignore it – except that we know Richard is laying the murders at the feet of another vampire – and we don't know why – so we don't know if he'll stop there."

"What would happen if he started turning a bunch of them – people at this fetish club? I've met people that get into that kind of role playing thing – some of them are a little crazy – it's like they start to really believe it."

"Yeah," Darren said, "I know . . . so we're up against a much older vampire – and god knows what kind of delusional humans . . . or it could just be a brand new vampire."

"Which would be why we were warned off," Alexandra said, "He could be protecting someone who's new – just like you protect me."

"Yeah," Darren said, "I know. The whole situation is screwed, and Damon is kind-of friends with Richard."

Alexandra snorted, "I wouldn't call it friends – acquaintances maybe – Richard hadn't been here before, I could tell by the way he looked around, he didn't just walk in, help himself to a drink and sit down – if he'd been here, he'd know that was the routine."

"Either way – this gets worse and worse. Newbie vampire that's not discreet, or a human who's a wanna-be – both attract attention, and add to that Richard's arrogance about the whole thing . . . that's a sure fire way to attract a hunter."
"If we stick to bags- maybe the hunter never knows we exist," Alexandra said, "why bother with us if we're not killing people."

"Because they're like racists – they just hate because they think they should," Darren said, "and we have to worry about Richard selling us out. I've met his type before."

Alexandra nodded, "Just like some rich frat boy, trust fund brat."

"Yep," Damon said, "It all boils down to more of 'we just don't know'."

Alexandra drew in a deep breath "I should be scared shitless right now, shouldn't I?"
Darren sighed. He didn't want to lie to her, he wanted to protect her. This whole mess had been wearing on him since it started, the ramifications of what could happen wearing him down, creating horrible images in his head. Hunters tracking them. He'd dodged them dozens of times. He was much better at covering his tracks now that he had been when he was . . . . younger . . . but Alexandra was so new at this. She had good instincts for when something was off – she'd been smart about that one kill she'd pulled off when she was with Elena. But none of that changed the fact that she as a very young, very new vampire – still dealing with the super heightened senses that were so useful and yet so distracting at the same time.

He stroked his fingers along her face, from her temple, down to cup her jawline, "We can't take it lightly."

She nodded slight, and then crawled into his lap, straddling him, and looped her arms around his neck.

"It's a whole new set of rules now. We'll watch our asses, figure out how to deal with this. Well make it work."

He ran his hands up her back, brushed his lips across hers, "Best we can do really."

She nodded, "You know – I don't know Vlad – but this is really not cool that Richard is laying this at his feet . . . if nothing else, we gotta put a stop to that crap. I remember what it was like when people assumed the worst of me – because of my mother, and no one had my back. It's not right."

Darren smiled, shaking his head, and toyed with a tendril of hair.

"I love you," he said, "This kinda thing . . . is so you."

She rolled her eyes, "yeah yeah yeah . . . so I was gonna try to figure out what to make for dinner, but now I am seriously jones-ing for tamales again – lets go back to that Mexican neighborhood, have dinner, a couple of beers, and get away from this for a few hours."

~~OFANV~~

She changed into a pair of old faded jeans, knee high flat heeled boots, and a V-neck T. She had her leather coat with the warm liner, a pair of gloves and a scarf. Darren had his black biker style boots under boot cut jeans, a t-shirt and one of his black leather biker style jackets, gloves and a scarf, and they took off.

Tonight, they picked a restaurant with a bar, and just took a table in the bar. Alexandra ordered two chicken tamale's and rice, Darren ordered burrito's, and they started with a couple of beers.

"God I love tamales," Alexandra said, cutting into hers with the side of her fork, and scooping up a piece, "The lady who worked in my stepfathers kitchen made them all the time – I'd come home from school and she'd have a little one fixed for me – pure heaven. Sometimes it was just cheese, or vegetables inside, hell she could have served me rat and made it taste good."

Darren laughed, "My grandmother – amazing cook – she could make anything taste good. She'd have empanada's for us when we left for work in the morning – some kind of meat, lots of whatever vegetable for filler mixed in, simmered down. Wrap it up in a cloth to keep it somewhat clean and we were ready to go. Very different from what we see today."

"I bet," Alexandra said, "I told you about when I could pick up work at the docks, slinging fish – well, sometimes there would be fish all mangled – edible, but not pretty – and it would be work to clean them. So those we could get for free – and sometimes we could just get a fish for whatever the hell reason. I'd bring them home, double bag them, throw them in the fridge, and I'd have to shower and race off to school, but that night I'd clean it all up, and we'd get some neighbors together, everybody brought something – we ate well. Fresh food is like gold when you're poor and live in a city. One of my neighbors was a stock boy at a vegetable market – so he'd bring home stuff that was going to spoil if they held onto it for another day – roasted up, tasted wonderful. This one day – I put the word out that I had managed to get a hold of some seafood, two crabs with busted shells, and some clams – so when I got home, the neighbors had the vegetables, we went to work cleaning chopping and cooking – someone else came up with rice, and we had like four fry pans going, someone's wok and an electric fryer. Did the fish and veggies stir-fry style with some kind of seasoning – god only knows what – it was so damn good. I saved some for mom, but her pimp ate it."

"Asshole," Darren said.

"Yeah, he definitely was," Alexandra said, "that as the last big multi-family meal we did – at least that I was part of. Mom owed her pimp and her dealer, so she sold me – and you know the rest," Alexandra said, "I miss those meals – it was the whole routine with so many people involved, seeing people waiting with their plates, everyone sitting where ever they could sit – even on the floor, and diving in. We did something like that on New Year's Eve once – I knew I'd be able to score something from the docs. I think someone marinated it all in beer for half the day, I really don't know, but it was amazing."

"We could probably find a way to recreate a lot of that," Darren said, smiling at the mental picture she created for him, "It won't be quite the same, but close."

She nodded, "I know, but that's half the fun I think."

He sipped his beer, swallowed, and then said "One New Year's Eve – we roasted a pig. The pig got kicked by a steer – we knew it was going die, so we strung him up, drained him, and did the slow roast over a pit of coals overnight thing. We started eating about midday on New Year's Eve – fed a lot of people off that pig, but people came with stuff to share too. I remember coming home from the farm I'd been working on, and I was a mile out, and with the drift of the wind, I could smell that thing roasting, it was amazing. My father was piss drunk already of course, and getting mean and nasty, but one of my uncles walked him off somewhere so he could get even more drunk and pass out."

"Funny – how that works – there's always one in every family or every group," Alexandra said, and she picked up her beer, "Yet you and I – and so many other people somehow find a way to enjoy the good memories, accept the bad – and somehow make it all work."

He tapped the neck of his beer to hers, "That, Querrida, is why I love you."

~~OFANV~~

As always, I'd love to know what you think. Getting those emails on my phone in the middle of the day where I find out someone was impressed enough to review makes my day. Some of those got me through some crappy days the last few months.