Suddenly, To My Surprise (They Did the Mash)
Title: Suddenly, To My Surprise (They Did the Mash)
Pairing: Damon/Elena
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,900
Spoilers: Vague season 3 spoilers if you're really sensitive.
Summary: Elena visits the Salvatore Mansion on Halloween Night. Damon's costume is...surprisingly conventional.
A/N: I don't even know what this is. It just had to happen. I just really love Halloween, ok?
Disclaimer: I own nothing except excessive Halloween spirit. Songs are “The Monster Mash” and “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra.
She really shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d do something like this. But nonetheless, when the front door of the Salvatore house swung open, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open in bewilderment. Her lips struggled to form words, any word, but all she could do was stare.
Because Damon was a vampire. Well, of course he was a vampire, but tonight, he was a vampire, complete with plastic fangs, a fake trail of blood down his chin, and, believe it or not, an honest-to-God cape. He grinned at her gleefully, delighting in her befuddlement.
“Do I get to choose whether you trick or treat?” He drawled, trailing his eyes down and back up her form in obvious appreciation. She felt acutely aware of the ridiculous little dress Caroline had forced upon her, which only came down to mid-thigh and was barely covered by the red satin cloak she wore. She was silent for just a moment too long, transfixed by the way Damon’s play-lust shifted ever so slightly as she fidgeted in his doorway. Inwardly shaking herself, she rolled her eyes at him, and he stepped out of her way with a smile, apparently satisfied that their customary charade had been acted out. She sidled past him into the house, her lips quirking upward as their respective capes slid against each other. She marched into the living room, pivoting to face him.
“What the hell are you doing, Damon?” She admonished, though the laughter she was trying to suppress severely detracted from her scolding tone.
“Getting into the spirit of Halloween?” He offered, hopping down the steps to pause a few feet away from her. “Come on, Little Red Riding Hood, have some fun. I may not be the Big Bad Wolf, but I promise my teeth are just as big.”
Elena raised her eyebrows wryly at the blatant innuendo in his tone, and he chuckled, easing up on the seduction vibes.
“I’m not up to anything, Elena. I’m just dressed up in a perfectly typical Halloween costume, ready to hand out candy to the local kids. This house is a bit of a destination, you know. They figure the more haunted the house seems, the better the candy. Who am I to disappoint?”
Elena shrugged her shoulders in capitulation, but her brow remained furrowed. “Fine. But don’t you think it’s a little risky to be advertising, you know, that you’re a…”
“A vampire?” Damon whispered conspiratorially. “Yes, Elena. I think the Founder’s Council, which I once lead, by the way, will finally figure out I’m a Creature of the Night because of this dead giveaway polyester cape. How could they ignore this sign?”
“I just don’t see why you have to be reckless.” She harrumphed, her lower lip jutting out in the smallest of pouts.
“It’s Halloween! We’re supposed to be reckless! We should all be running around on sugar highs causing trouble and torturing people - not literally torturing people,” he amended in exasperation at her affronted look. “Why can’t you just relax for one night?” He inquired, his voice quieter this time.
She shifted from foot to foot. “It’s just…last year, Halloween, with Vicki…I just - I don’t know how to celebrate today anymore.”
His eyes softened in understanding. They stood like that for a moment, him looking at her and her looking at her feet in their ridiculous red pumps. She twisted her fingers in her cape, willing the silence to end, but unable to think of a single thing to say. Suddenly her fingers were grasping at Damon’s rather than at her cloak, and she looked up in surprise to see that he was right in front of her.
“Come on.” He said simply, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“What are we doing?” She demanded nervously as he led her to the corner of the room.
“We’re celebrating.”
“Wait, what - “
He hit the play button on the stereo, and in an instant the Salvatore house was alive with the rhythmic pounding of a drum in surround sound. Elena glanced at Damon quizzically, but looked up in happiness when the sound rang with:
I was working in the lab late one night,
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight...
“The Monster Mash?” Elena queried, unable to keep the pure joy out of her voice. “I love this song!”
“Of course you do.” Damon smiled. Still holding her hand, he led her to the center of the room and swung her around, grabbing her other hand and establishing some sort of jaunty twist.
Elena tossed her head back and laughed, shimmying along with him and singing along to the song. Sometime around the second chorus, she cocked her head at him curiously. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Monster Mash sort of guy,” she confessed.
“Well, I’ve always been a sucker for Halloween. It’s sort of like Vampire Prom.” He spun her around, her cape spinning after her.
“Hence the vampire outfit?” She inquired sardonically once she was face to face with him again.
“I had it all planned out. It was going to be a couple’s costume. Old School vs. New School vampires.”
“And who was going to be New School?”
He shot her a faux patronizing look. “Stefan, of course. I figured he’d come downstairs in one of his usual teen heartthrob outfits and overly coiffed hairstyles, and I’d throw some glitter on him and tell everyone he was Edward Cullen.”
She laughed again, amused by Damon’s antics in spite of the twinge of sadness Stefan’s name inspired. “That would have gone well.”
“It would have.” Damon insisted. “With all that hair gel? He wouldn’t be able to get rid of the glitter for days.”
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t shake the smile from her lips. They continued to sashay around the room, dancing madly to all the ‘wa-ooo, tennis shoe’s, until the song tapered off into silence. Elena paused, trying to catch her breath, but Damon held on to her hands. When the dulcet tones of a big band started to play, Damon slid his arm around her waist and proceeded to lead her into a smooth waltz.
Those fingers in my hair,
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare,
It’s witchcraft.
Elena grinned even as she sloped her left arm around his neck, her right hand still in his. “Now this I can see you listening to.”
Damon’s eyes twinkled like that. “Me and Frank, we go way back. I’m pretty sure this song was inspired by my account of Emily Bennett.”
“That makes no sense,” Elena refuted, swaying along to the beat of the song and Damon’s body.
“Sure it does.” He fell silent as the brass section built up on the recording.
And I’ve got no defense for it.
The heat is too intense for it.
What good would common sense for it do?
Suddenly the heat was too intense. Gone was the playful mood of only an instant ago, and instead they seemed to be trapped in one of their moments, the air thick between them. It was always like this with them: out of nowhere, all the things between them would rear up and knock them speechless.
Somehow, Damon’s other arm ended up around her waist as well, drawing her closer, and her fingers interlaced behind his neck. Elena willed herself to keep them clasped, to do anything to keep her arms from trailing down his shoulders like they so desperately wanted to. This was too much - what was happening? Why was it suddenly a thousand degrees in here?
Damon dropped his forehead to her left shoulder, and she lost the fight with her willpower. Her fingers unlaced and she tangled her right hand into his hair, sliding her left hand under the high collar of his cape to stroke the nape of his neck. He nuzzled her neck, and she couldn’t stop the breathy moan from escaping from the back of her throat. Damon groaned in response, his plastic fangs clattering uselessly to the floor as his real fangs elongated. They were both breathing heavily now, lost in the irresistible pull between them, insensate to the music still humming in the background.
Damon’s arms tightened around her, bringing her impossibly closer, and she clutched at him, desperate for something, dizzy and eager and longing. He grazed the tips of his fangs gently against her neck, teasing, and she opened her mouth, to moan, to beg, to cry out, she didn’t know, but just as the sound rose in her throat -
- the doorbell rang. They froze for a breathless second, still entangled in each other. Then Damon sighed, the air rushing out of him in a deafening whoosh, and he pulled away.
“Trick or treaters.” Damon supplied usefully. Elena nodded dumbly, still too shocked and embarrassed and turned on to move. Damon locked eyes with her, his gaze tortured and as frustrated as hers no doubt was, and then he turned on his heels to answer the door. Elena shifted from foot to foot anxiously, and as she did the toe of her left shoe clicked against his plastic fangs, still on the floor.
“Uh, Damon? Aren’t you forgetting your costume?”
Damon turned back to her, in full vampire face, eyes scarlet and fangs gleaming in the soft light of the house. “Am I?” He grinned wickedly and pivoted again, strolling toward the door and the unsuspecting children on the other side.
Elena stared after him for a moment, unsure of what to do or how to respond. But in the end, she did the only thing she could do. She shook her head in resignation, and she smiled.
By the time Damon returned, Elena was readjusting her cloak and hood and gathering her purse. She shot a quick glance at him before looking away, feigning preoccupation, and he bowed his head in acceptance. “You headed out, then?”
She nodded, finally looking at him. “Yeah. I think maybe I will go out, get into the spirit of things. The Halloween dance at school should still be going on.”
The smile he gave her then was suffused with pride. “Good. Have fun.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully before smiling back. “I will.”
She was halfway to the door when he called to her. “Hey, Elena? What were you even doing here?”
She started in realization. “Oh, I, uh, I thought I left my phone here, but I guess…not.”
He looked up at her from under his lashes. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
She very nearly fell into said eye, the ever-thrumming attraction between them calling to her to move closer. But she seized a hold of herself, relaxing her shoulders and uttering a simple “Thanks” in reply. She reached the door this time around, feeling him come up behind her as she crossed the threshold. She glanced over her shoulder, taking in his form, casually leaning against the doorframe and looking like sex and leather even in a ridiculous vampire cape.
“Thanks, Damon. For…the Monster Mash.” She said sincerely. His smiled softly at her.
“Anytime. And hey, maybe next year we’ll finally be able to answer that perennial question.”
Elena’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What question?”
His smile widened to a mirthful, fanged grin. “Whatever did happen to my Transylvania twist?”
-The End
Pairing: Damon/Elena
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,900
Spoilers: Vague season 3 spoilers if you're really sensitive.
Summary: Elena visits the Salvatore Mansion on Halloween Night. Damon's costume is...surprisingly conventional.
A/N: I don't even know what this is. It just had to happen. I just really love Halloween, ok?
Disclaimer: I own nothing except excessive Halloween spirit. Songs are “The Monster Mash” and “Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra.
She really shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d do something like this. But nonetheless, when the front door of the Salvatore house swung open, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open in bewilderment. Her lips struggled to form words, any word, but all she could do was stare.
Because Damon was a vampire. Well, of course he was a vampire, but tonight, he was a vampire, complete with plastic fangs, a fake trail of blood down his chin, and, believe it or not, an honest-to-God cape. He grinned at her gleefully, delighting in her befuddlement.
“Do I get to choose whether you trick or treat?” He drawled, trailing his eyes down and back up her form in obvious appreciation. She felt acutely aware of the ridiculous little dress Caroline had forced upon her, which only came down to mid-thigh and was barely covered by the red satin cloak she wore. She was silent for just a moment too long, transfixed by the way Damon’s play-lust shifted ever so slightly as she fidgeted in his doorway. Inwardly shaking herself, she rolled her eyes at him, and he stepped out of her way with a smile, apparently satisfied that their customary charade had been acted out. She sidled past him into the house, her lips quirking upward as their respective capes slid against each other. She marched into the living room, pivoting to face him.
“What the hell are you doing, Damon?” She admonished, though the laughter she was trying to suppress severely detracted from her scolding tone.
“Getting into the spirit of Halloween?” He offered, hopping down the steps to pause a few feet away from her. “Come on, Little Red Riding Hood, have some fun. I may not be the Big Bad Wolf, but I promise my teeth are just as big.”
Elena raised her eyebrows wryly at the blatant innuendo in his tone, and he chuckled, easing up on the seduction vibes.
“I’m not up to anything, Elena. I’m just dressed up in a perfectly typical Halloween costume, ready to hand out candy to the local kids. This house is a bit of a destination, you know. They figure the more haunted the house seems, the better the candy. Who am I to disappoint?”
Elena shrugged her shoulders in capitulation, but her brow remained furrowed. “Fine. But don’t you think it’s a little risky to be advertising, you know, that you’re a…”
“A vampire?” Damon whispered conspiratorially. “Yes, Elena. I think the Founder’s Council, which I once lead, by the way, will finally figure out I’m a Creature of the Night because of this dead giveaway polyester cape. How could they ignore this sign?”
“I just don’t see why you have to be reckless.” She harrumphed, her lower lip jutting out in the smallest of pouts.
“It’s Halloween! We’re supposed to be reckless! We should all be running around on sugar highs causing trouble and torturing people - not literally torturing people,” he amended in exasperation at her affronted look. “Why can’t you just relax for one night?” He inquired, his voice quieter this time.
She shifted from foot to foot. “It’s just…last year, Halloween, with Vicki…I just - I don’t know how to celebrate today anymore.”
His eyes softened in understanding. They stood like that for a moment, him looking at her and her looking at her feet in their ridiculous red pumps. She twisted her fingers in her cape, willing the silence to end, but unable to think of a single thing to say. Suddenly her fingers were grasping at Damon’s rather than at her cloak, and she looked up in surprise to see that he was right in front of her.
“Come on.” He said simply, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“What are we doing?” She demanded nervously as he led her to the corner of the room.
“We’re celebrating.”
“Wait, what - “
He hit the play button on the stereo, and in an instant the Salvatore house was alive with the rhythmic pounding of a drum in surround sound. Elena glanced at Damon quizzically, but looked up in happiness when the sound rang with:
I was working in the lab late one night,
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight...
“The Monster Mash?” Elena queried, unable to keep the pure joy out of her voice. “I love this song!”
“Of course you do.” Damon smiled. Still holding her hand, he led her to the center of the room and swung her around, grabbing her other hand and establishing some sort of jaunty twist.
Elena tossed her head back and laughed, shimmying along with him and singing along to the song. Sometime around the second chorus, she cocked her head at him curiously. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Monster Mash sort of guy,” she confessed.
“Well, I’ve always been a sucker for Halloween. It’s sort of like Vampire Prom.” He spun her around, her cape spinning after her.
“Hence the vampire outfit?” She inquired sardonically once she was face to face with him again.
“I had it all planned out. It was going to be a couple’s costume. Old School vs. New School vampires.”
“And who was going to be New School?”
He shot her a faux patronizing look. “Stefan, of course. I figured he’d come downstairs in one of his usual teen heartthrob outfits and overly coiffed hairstyles, and I’d throw some glitter on him and tell everyone he was Edward Cullen.”
She laughed again, amused by Damon’s antics in spite of the twinge of sadness Stefan’s name inspired. “That would have gone well.”
“It would have.” Damon insisted. “With all that hair gel? He wouldn’t be able to get rid of the glitter for days.”
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t shake the smile from her lips. They continued to sashay around the room, dancing madly to all the ‘wa-ooo, tennis shoe’s, until the song tapered off into silence. Elena paused, trying to catch her breath, but Damon held on to her hands. When the dulcet tones of a big band started to play, Damon slid his arm around her waist and proceeded to lead her into a smooth waltz.
Those fingers in my hair,
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare,
It’s witchcraft.
Elena grinned even as she sloped her left arm around his neck, her right hand still in his. “Now this I can see you listening to.”
Damon’s eyes twinkled like that. “Me and Frank, we go way back. I’m pretty sure this song was inspired by my account of Emily Bennett.”
“That makes no sense,” Elena refuted, swaying along to the beat of the song and Damon’s body.
“Sure it does.” He fell silent as the brass section built up on the recording.
And I’ve got no defense for it.
The heat is too intense for it.
What good would common sense for it do?
Suddenly the heat was too intense. Gone was the playful mood of only an instant ago, and instead they seemed to be trapped in one of their moments, the air thick between them. It was always like this with them: out of nowhere, all the things between them would rear up and knock them speechless.
Somehow, Damon’s other arm ended up around her waist as well, drawing her closer, and her fingers interlaced behind his neck. Elena willed herself to keep them clasped, to do anything to keep her arms from trailing down his shoulders like they so desperately wanted to. This was too much - what was happening? Why was it suddenly a thousand degrees in here?
Damon dropped his forehead to her left shoulder, and she lost the fight with her willpower. Her fingers unlaced and she tangled her right hand into his hair, sliding her left hand under the high collar of his cape to stroke the nape of his neck. He nuzzled her neck, and she couldn’t stop the breathy moan from escaping from the back of her throat. Damon groaned in response, his plastic fangs clattering uselessly to the floor as his real fangs elongated. They were both breathing heavily now, lost in the irresistible pull between them, insensate to the music still humming in the background.
Damon’s arms tightened around her, bringing her impossibly closer, and she clutched at him, desperate for something, dizzy and eager and longing. He grazed the tips of his fangs gently against her neck, teasing, and she opened her mouth, to moan, to beg, to cry out, she didn’t know, but just as the sound rose in her throat -
- the doorbell rang. They froze for a breathless second, still entangled in each other. Then Damon sighed, the air rushing out of him in a deafening whoosh, and he pulled away.
“Trick or treaters.” Damon supplied usefully. Elena nodded dumbly, still too shocked and embarrassed and turned on to move. Damon locked eyes with her, his gaze tortured and as frustrated as hers no doubt was, and then he turned on his heels to answer the door. Elena shifted from foot to foot anxiously, and as she did the toe of her left shoe clicked against his plastic fangs, still on the floor.
“Uh, Damon? Aren’t you forgetting your costume?”
Damon turned back to her, in full vampire face, eyes scarlet and fangs gleaming in the soft light of the house. “Am I?” He grinned wickedly and pivoted again, strolling toward the door and the unsuspecting children on the other side.
Elena stared after him for a moment, unsure of what to do or how to respond. But in the end, she did the only thing she could do. She shook her head in resignation, and she smiled.
By the time Damon returned, Elena was readjusting her cloak and hood and gathering her purse. She shot a quick glance at him before looking away, feigning preoccupation, and he bowed his head in acceptance. “You headed out, then?”
She nodded, finally looking at him. “Yeah. I think maybe I will go out, get into the spirit of things. The Halloween dance at school should still be going on.”
The smile he gave her then was suffused with pride. “Good. Have fun.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully before smiling back. “I will.”
She was halfway to the door when he called to her. “Hey, Elena? What were you even doing here?”
She started in realization. “Oh, I, uh, I thought I left my phone here, but I guess…not.”
He looked up at her from under his lashes. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
She very nearly fell into said eye, the ever-thrumming attraction between them calling to her to move closer. But she seized a hold of herself, relaxing her shoulders and uttering a simple “Thanks” in reply. She reached the door this time around, feeling him come up behind her as she crossed the threshold. She glanced over her shoulder, taking in his form, casually leaning against the doorframe and looking like sex and leather even in a ridiculous vampire cape.
“Thanks, Damon. For…the Monster Mash.” She said sincerely. His smiled softly at her.
“Anytime. And hey, maybe next year we’ll finally be able to answer that perennial question.”
Elena’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What question?”
His smile widened to a mirthful, fanged grin. “Whatever did happen to my Transylvania twist?”
-The End