Title: Eternal Contemplations
Author: fading_tales
Pairing: Damon/Blair (Vampire Diaries/Gossip Girl cross-over)
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, Gossip Girl or any of their characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Timing means nothing and everything when you have an eternity to live.
Chapter Four
She finds him waiting for her at the exact same time at the exact same place with that exact same smile on his face almost everyday after that. They share light flirtation, little smiles, and jokes and jibes that don't have the sting of hitting too close to home. She likes this feeling, this easiness of being. It doesn't last long. Already people have begun to talk, but it's minor and she attributes the gossip to the petty jealousy of inferiors. But as the number of times she finds his car parked outside of her school increases, so does the number of whispered gossip and the number of snide looks sent her way.
"It's starting to get a bit ridiculous," Chuck states as she walks to fourth period, ignoring the way people would stop talking as she passes by.
"What is?" she feigns ignorance.
"The amount of time you spend with him," Chuck says the word 'him' as if it was poison on his tongue. "People are talking."
"So? Let them say whatever they want. He's my friend and last time I checked, I'm the queen bee around here."
"That title is becoming more and more ambiguous. You forget that as much as they fear and respect a queen, they most definitely love to watch one fall. I'm just warning you. Keep this up and soon your title of queen will be replaced with two-timing whore. Nate is the Golden Boy. Don 't you forget that."
"As if anyone would let me," she scoffs.
"Look. I can't believe I'm saying this but… as much as Nate is my friend, apparently so are you. So think carefully before you throw all that away."
"How sweet… you actually care about me. Who knew? Chuck Bass is just a tiny bit human after all," Blair teases in a sing-song voice.
Chuck gives her a matching mockingly sweet smile. "What are frenemies for? Don't say I've never done anything for you. Now if you'll excuse me… I have a date with the Willoughby twins in the Janitor's closet."
Blair rolls her eyes as Chuck walks away with a smirk.
xxx
Despite the devil-may-care attitude she showed Chuck, his words make her stomach feel uneasy. When Damon shows up once again that particular afternoon, she makes her way across the street to where he is, ignoring Kati and Iz calling after her and various eyes watching her movement.
"How was school?" he inquires.
"Tedious."
"Want to go get a drink?" he opens the door for her.
She alternately eyes him and the open car door. Thoughts of her previous conversation with Chuck run through her head. She has a boyfriend. She has a life that has been painstakingly, meticulously planned and she doesn't need any distractions. Damon said so himself that he wasn't here to stay. Is she really going to risk her queendom, risk Nate and the scathing Gossip Girl blasts that are sure to come if she keeps this up?
"I can't."
She was always one who was quick to slam on the breaks when things don't go her way. Control, control, control. It was the Waldorf mantra.
His eyebrows furrow in puzzlement. It's not the answer he was expecting.
"Is something the matter?"
"What do you want from me?" she asks.
He shuts the door and leans back against the car, crossing his arms. Damon doesn't take rejection well, not that the possibility often occur. Girls don't tend to rebuff his advances. In fact they are usually more likely to invite it.
"I thought we were having a good time."
"Well, good times are about to end. I don't think I should see you anymore."
"What's this about?"
"It's about me and my reputation. I can't be seen with you anymore. People are talking."
"We're just friends. And screw what people say. Since when have you ever cared about that anyways?"
"Since forever!"
"Don't use that word so lightly."
She has no idea what forever entails.
"Is this about Nate? That guy is a total borefest. I really don't know what you see in him."
He's made it clear before about his feelings towards her boyfriend. They've had long conversations where he's playfully psychoanalyzed her and came up with the conclusion that she merely likes the idea of Nate and what he represents more than the actual person. She always protests, but she must admit that she's often thought of the same thing herself.
"I love Nate!"
"You know… just because you say it a lot, doesn't make it true."
"You're an ass."
"And you're a bitch. So let's stop wasting time making up labels and have some fun."
"Sorry. I just… can't. My mother is having a luncheon tomorrow… and I'm going to have to go help her. So, bye."
She says good-bye easily and walks away just as easily.
He feels a sort of ache somewhere in the vicinity of where his heart should be, but he attributes it to heartburn or indigestion. It must have been that blonde he had for breakfast. He doesn't need her, she can go on and walk away, there's other fish in the sea.
Except he does need her. Because she might be the witch he needs to open that tomb. At least that's what he tells himself later when he crashes her mother's luncheon. Besides…he's starting to feel a craving for some bluebloods.
xxx
It would have been awkward if he hadn't charmed Eleanor and the remainder of the guests with his glamour. Unfortunately, Blair remains completely immune despite his many attempts. Her constant glares follow him all afternoon.
"Damon! Darling! You must try some of these marvelous Spanish tortes."
"Why thank you, Mrs. Waldorf. I do admit I have quite a sweet tooth."
Inwardly Damon rolls his eyes at the elder woman's idiocy. The desert she so enthusiastically proclaimed to be Spanish torte is instead a Danish pastry. Apparently money can't buy you good common sense or intelligence. Thank god Blair hasn't inherited her overly stupid nature.
"Have I told you by the way that you have on the most marvelous dress?"
Blair recognizes fake social pleasantries when she hears it. God knows she's an expert. She wishes there was a table that would obscure her mother's view for she desperately wants to kick the honey tongued leather-clad flirt in the shins.
"What? This? Just an old design of mine. Blair's dress is a better example of my current pieces. Although… Blair, darling? I think you had one too many of those tortes… Pardon her enthusiastic appetite. The dress will look better on the runway when it's worn by real models."
Blair's smile falters for a second as she puts down the offending pastry, but the smile is back up again in all its icy glory.
"Really? I can't imagine anyone looking more stunning," Damon replies, a tinge of menace taints the smile he gives Eleanor.
Blair is slightly pleased by him defending her honor, so to speak, but that doesn't make her forget the fact that he crashed her party. She refuses to be amused when he turns and winks at her.
"Oh, Damon. You're just so sweet. Please tell me you will come see the show?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Blair darts a quick glare in his direction. Damon shoots her a sugary smile that doesn't match the mischief in his eyes to which she answers with a forced smile. Mommy dearest is still in company after all and that table she needs is still out of reach. Images of bloody shins fill her thoughts. She's immune to his honeyed tongue by now and if he thinks he can sweet talk his way out of this then she's overestimated his intelligence.
"You know… I'm thinking about branching out and trying menswear… perhaps you'd considering modeling?" Eleanor eyes him from head to toe and he's sure she's enjoying what she sees.
"I would be delighted!" he replies dramatically.
At the corner of his eyes he sees Blair shooting him yet another dirty look. He knows he's pushing his luck, but the curtains for this charade isn't closing any time soon. He's having way too much fun.
After her mother leaves, she confronts him.
"What's you game, Salvatore?"
"Just having a little fun. You know, you use to have it. Did Nate suck away all your humor? Where is blondie anyhow?"
"H-he's not here. He was busy today. Not everyone has so much free time on their hands like you do."
She tries turn and walk away, but he's quick to anticipate her maneuver.
"Yeah, I'm sure he's really busy," Damon completes his sentence by gesturing as if he was smoking. "Probably too stoned to do much of anything."
"For your information, Nate's busy studying for the SATs! And you!" she emphasizes the 'you' with a jab to his chest. "weren't even invited!"
"Why is it that it feels like you're trying to get rid of me?"
"Because I am!"
"And here I thought we were friends."
He says it with the usual dramatic sarcasm, but she could tell he's angry underneath all those smiles and it makes her heart ache a little.
"Fine, stay as long as you want… I have to go see about the caterers."
She leaves and Damon's anger gets projected onto a nearby pretty waitress. He doesn't bother with being charming or nice. He mere grabs her by the arm, uses his usual Jedi mind tricks and soon he has her in one of the empty guest rooms where he quickly makes lunch out of her.
And that's how Blair walks in on him.
xxx
He's caught in an awkward situation. Shirt off and blood dripping down his mouth and onto his bare chest with the limp blonde waiting staff lying crumpled on the ground. He's been especially sloppy and violent and the carnage is fit for a horror movie. He's surprised she hasn't screamed yet. He's surprised he hasn't already snapped her neck.
"Oh my god."
"The name's Damon, but I guess that'll work too."
She somehow manages to give him a sneer despite her shock.
"Do you like freaking sparkle too?" she asks incredulously, hands on her hips.
"Geez! What's up with everyone and Twilight? Doesn't anyone read Anne Rice or Dracula anymore?"
"You've killed one of my mother's staff."
"Not yet. She's still breathing…" he pokes a dainty toe at the prostate body of the blonde waitress. "I think…"
"We're already short on staff as it is and you go around… eating them for lunch?"
"That's what you're worried about? I'm a vampire and all you care about is some luncheon?"
"Well maybe you should just kill me too and save my mother the trouble!" she exclaims throwing her hands into the air and promptly turns on her heel to head out the door.
He quickly speeds on over to block her path.
"And where do you think you're going, princess?"
He makes for a fearful sight, blood smeared across his mouth, fangs extended and eyes darkened with remnant blood lust. Blair swallows a nervous gulp. The reality of the situation is finally sinking in and he can hear her rapid heart rate. They spend one long minute just staring at each other, neither making a move. He wonders if she's had a silent stroke and is now paralyzed. The shock of finding out that vampires walk amongst us is quite big; others would have gone hysterical or fainted by now.
"Blair?"
"You're… a vampire."
"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?"
He's challenging her, getting on the defensive because there's only two ways this whole shindig can go. Kill or not kill. Past outcomes have often leaned to the former.
"Not unless you really did kill that waitress over there."
Her sarcasm masks her nervousness. He feels slightly disappointed that she now knows his dirty little secret. That she finally realized what a monster he is. He doesn't know why he should care what she thinks of him, but he does.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asks calmly.
He's silent for a while before answering. He just looks at her with this strange look in his eyes and to both his and her astonishment answers "No."
"And why not?" she sounds almost bothered that he wasn't.
He should've said yes. He should've just killed her and be done with it. Witch or no witch. She's too much of a wild card to be kept around.
But he needs her. For Katherine. Really. It's all for Katherine.
"Because I don't know what you are."
"I'm a girl. A human Or lunch, as that other girl lying over there seems to have proven."
"It's not so simple."
"Don't tell me that I'm your soul mate and we're destined to be together."
"I think you're some kind of witch."
Her eyebrow shoots up quizzically.
"A witch," she repeats as if he was mentally impaired and talking nonsense.
"You don't do what I tell you to."
"Hello? It's the 21st century. Women don't do what guys tell them to do anymore," she replies snootily.
"Not even when I use my vampiric compulsions."
"Maybe your mojo is on the fritz, ever think of that?"
"Seemed to work well on your mother… and her guests."
"You… compelled my mother?"
He smiles an impish smile. "I could have told her to quit designing women's clothing and start tailoring dog costumes and she would've done it in a heartbeat."
"You stay away from my mother!"
The fearful look in her eyes makes him angry. He didn't want her to be like all the others. He didn't want to be the monster. At least not in her eyes.
"Dog costumes are the tackiest, vilest form of evil to have ever graced the world! And if you think I'm going to put up with being the daughter of someone who actually creates th-those THINGS-"
She doesn't get to finish her tirade because he's keeled over with laughter.
"Seriously!" She stamps her foot in protest to his incessant snickering.
He struggles to smother the remaining laughs bubbling in his chest as she continues to glare at him with hands on her hips. Like he says before, she's a wild card.
"You… are definitely something else. If it's not a witch… I have no idea what."
She rolls her eyes.
"Aside from that being absolutely absurd… why would it matter whether or not I was a witch?"
Her curiosity overcomes her fear.
His previous mirth is replaced by solemnity. She's seen that melancholic look in his eyes before.
"Because I need one to help with me something."
"You're the one on top of the food-chain so what could I possibly do to help you? That is unless you're looking for a pretty Eleanor Waldorf Original dress to match your eyes."
She hopes that witty banter could chase his sorrowful look away. She likes him better when he's being cocky and sarcastic.
"While I'd love to see you attempt to scale the impossible challenge of finding a color that would match my one-of-a-kind, stunning baby blues… what I have in mind is slightly different."
"As in?"
"How do you feel about the macabre?"
"Aside from walking in on a vampire feasting on one of my mother's help? I haven't had much experience."
"There's a tomb."
"Sounds morbid already."
"It's been spelled and I need to open it."
"And why would you want to do that?" she asks with slight sarcasm in her voice.
"Because Katherine is trapped in there."
A/N: New update! I don't know if Damon came off as menacing as I wanted him to… Should I up the evil factor? I'm struggling with the plot a bit because soon I'm going to have to integrate some Mystic Falls residents into the mix next chapter. Thanks for reading! Comments/reviews are appreciated! =)