Fic: A Vampire's Policy [Vampire Diaries | PG13 | Elena/Damon | 2/?]
It was supposed to be a standalone ficlet, but the plotbunnies wouldn't leave me alone - so here's part two...and yes there's probably going to be a part three and four! It's still a PG13 rating, but that may rise in later chapters.
Title A Vampire's Policy
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG3
Category: Drama
Spoilers: 1x18
Warnings: It has vampires?
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Previous parts: ONE:
-----------------------------------
PART TWO
Stefan had drained the glass dry.
Damon picked it up and examined it. He wasn't really sure how he felt about this new development. He really shouldn't care at all. After all, filial feeling wasn't exactly an affliction he was noted for...unless one counted his occasional homicidal urges.
“You left the blood behind on purpose,” came Stefan's voice, from the stairs.
“Yeah, that's me, your friendly neighbourhood enabler,” Damon said dryly.
“You're just loving this, aren't you?”
“Not particularly,” he said. “Although we have enough problems without you frothing at the mouth at the whiff of every scratch and cut within a two mile radius. That was getting old.” He dropped the tumbler back onto the coffee table. “How's Elena?”
“Leave Elena out of this.” Stefan said, buttoning his shirt as he descended the steps.
“Broken it off, have you? Done the right thing, and all that?” Damon drawled sarcastically.
“You wouldn't know what the right thing was if it smacked you in the face, Damon,” Stefan said.
Damon eyed him. “You're looking chirpy. The new diet must be agreeing with you.”
“I'm going back to school, today,” Stefan said, ignoring his comment.
“Good thing, too, I got another one of those irritating letters from the school yesterday,” Damon muttered, as he closed in on the liquor cabinet. “Say hi to Elena for me.”
Stefan threw him a long look . “We need to talk later,” he said, as he headed for the door. “About Elena's uncle, and how to deal with him.”
“Sounds like fun. Bring her along, she's going to love this,” Damon said, with a smirk.
“Elena has nothing to do with it,” Stefan threw over his shoulder.
“Could have fooled me. I'd have said she was dead center.” But Stefan was already gone, and Damon pulled a face. “Well, this is going to be a fun day,” he said to himself, as he poured himself a scotch.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Elena paced in front of Stefan's locker, not able to shake that edgy feeling that had been plaguing her for the last few days. She wondered if he'd changed his mind, and decided not to come to school, after all. She checked her watch, another five minutes until class.
“Hi.”
Elena whirled on her feet. “Stefan,” she said. You look...good.” And he did. He looked relaxed, and there was colour in his cheeks, which hadn't been there the night before, after the founder's party. In fact, she'd never seen Stefan looking so good. She gave him a tentative smile, as he grinned and took her hand.
“The worst seems to be over,” he told her.
Elena laughed with relief. So much for Damon's dire predictions. “See, I told you everything would work out,” she said
“Your wisdom knows no bounds,” he teased, as he pulled her in for a kiss.
The kiss was firm and heated, and Elena felt desire build in the pit of her stomach. She would never admit it to anyone, but ever since she'd drunk Damon's blood, she was feeling a bit...well, she was glad Stefan was beginning to get himself under control. She missed him.
Elena pushed the thought of Damon out of her mind, and concentrated on the feel of Stefan's lips, and his hands on the small of her back. She ignored the catcalls coming from a passing group of juniors, and wondered if they'd get away with playing hookie for the afternoon...
The bell rang.
“See you after class?” Stefan asked, pulling away.
“We could have lunch at your place,” Elena said suggestively.
A cloud passed over Stefan's expression. “Elena, before you come over to the house, I have to tell you a few things.”
"Is it serious?” Elena asked, frowning.
“Serious, but not terminal...yet.”
“Okay, I'll see you at lunch,” Elena said. Stefan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go, but Elena felt the ball in the pit of her stomach tighten as he walked away.
~~~*~***~*~~~
There was exactly one heartbeat inside the Gilbert household and, as Elena's brother was at school, and her aunt at work, that only left her adoring Uncle John. Damon smirked as he glided around the house and tried the kitchen door. It was open.
John Gilbert was sitting at the kitchen's island table, drinking coffee, when he entered. He went very still when he spotted Damon. “Let me guess, it was my darling niece who invited you in.”
“Meeeeep, wrong answer, try again,” Damon said coolly.
“Why are you here? I've already said all I'm going to say, and we've already discussed how it wasn't in your interests to kill me.”
“Oh, I haven't quite given up on that, yet,” Damon said. “But, meanwhile, you can keep me entertained by telling me the full story. I'm sure it's very scintillating.”
“And why should I do that?”
“Because you may have a ring, but the rest of your family don't,” Damon said darkly.
“You're threatening my family?” he said, with a snort.
“Not threatening, promising,” Damon said, leaning over the counter. It occurred to him that he may not be able to kill the bastard, but he might be able to torture him. Pain was a great tongue loosener.
A creak, like the sound of a loose floorboard being stepped on, came from the hallway, and Damon's eyes narrowed. “Hold that thought,” he said, before he blurred across the kitchen and pulled open the door.
In the hallway stood Elena's brother.
“Uh, hi,” he said, sheepishly.
Damon eyed him. “Skipping school?” he asked.
“Free period,” Jeremy said.
Damon had the very definite feeling that Jeremy Gilbert knew more than he should. Pity he'd promised Elena that he'd leave the boy alone...oh, who was he kidding? He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. Maybe Pearl had a point, after all.
“I'll see you later,” he said to John, over his shoulder. “We'll discuss this at more length.”
“Don't hold your breath!” John Gilbert said.
“What was that about?” he heard Elena's brother ask as he left. To his ears, the question sounded unconvincing. His uncle, however, seemed to think little Jeremy was still operating in the dark.
“Just town council stuff,” he heard Gilbert say.
Damon rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Elena slumped against the bonnet of her car as Stefan finished his story. “So you're telling me that Damon tried to kill my Uncle John, last night?” she asked.
“Not tried - did,” Stefan said. “It just didn't take.”
Elena's eyebrows rose. “He's a vampire?”
“No, he's wearing one of those rings - the same as Alaric's.”
“This doesn't make sense,” Elena said, frustrated. “If my uncle knows about you and Damon, why hasn't he told the council? My uncle may be an ass, but he's all about town pride.”
Stefan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he admitted. “Damon said something about us needing to talk tonight. I'm guessing he found out something at the party, while we were talking.”
Elena nodded grimly. “Lets go, then,” she said, as she felt the anger simmer up inside her.
“Elena, are you sure you want to do this? You know how Damon can be.”
“I'm positive,” Elena said. It was time she got some answers and, while she was at it, made sure Damon knew he couldn't toy with her life, or her family.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Damon smirked.
She was furious. Even if Damon hadn't been able to feel her through their blood tie, he'd be hard pressed to ignore the ire in her eyes. “I take it he's given you the abridged version, then,” he drawled.
“There's is nothing you can add that will change the fact you are a complete slime ball,” Elena bit out.
Damon shrugged. “True, but I have to say your darling uncle is giving me a run for my money.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
Damon threw himself onto the couch, and eyed her tightly wound body. It had been five days since she'd fed on his blood, and a few weeks before that since he'd fed her the first time. She might not know what was happening, but she was definitely craving it. “I'll give you three guesses as to who told your birth mom that I'd be the ideal candidate to turn her,” he said, aloud.
Elena looked at him silently as comprehension dawned. “That doesn't make sense,” she eventually said.
Damon laughed. “You know what else doesn't make sense?” he said. “The part where he walked away from a three story drop without a scratch. It seems he's got a magic-cannot-die-ring, too. Apparently, the one he gave your birth mom was his own, but the one he wears now he inherited from your father... but if Daddy dearest had a ring, why did he die in the first place?” He took a swig of his scotch. “Just something to think about.”
“I...I need to sit down,” Elena said softly, as she perched on the edge of an armchair..
“I need another drink,” Damon said cheerfully. “How about you, Stefan? In need of some liquid refreshment?” he smiled wolfishly, and Stefan coloured. Too bad Elena was too worried to register lover boy's reaction.
The doorbell rang, and Damon's head went up as he recognised the heartbeat. It was pounding in the kid's chest. “Your brother is at door, Elena,” he drawled. “Tell me, how's that going? Handling it, are we?”
“I told you, I can deal with it,” Elena said heatedly.
“The kid is snooping around at closed doors,” Damon shot back. “Try harder or, failing that, get that bracelet off him, so I can handle the problem myself.”
“You are not going near him,” Elena snapped, jumping to her feet. “So help me, Damon, if you touch one hair on his head--”
“I'll just answer the door, shall I?” Stefan interrupted dryly.
Elena slumped back into her seat and nodded silently, and Damon smiled as he draped himself on the couch, studying her. She was trying not to show it, but she could feel his eyes on her. He deliberately let her eyes wander downward, and watched her stiffen involuntarily. This was going to be fun.
“Elena, it's your brother,” Stefan announced, as he strolled into the room.
“Wow, what a surprise,” Damon said, with a grin. “Drink?”
“No, he doesn't want a drink,” Elena said, through gritted teeth.
“Actually, I wouldn't mind,” Jeremy contradicted.
“What's your poison?” Damon asked lightly, as he got to his feet and crossed to the liquor cabinet.
“I'll have whatever you're having.” the kid said as he joined him. There was a slight quiver to his voice, but Damon ignored it. In his experience, this happened a lot in his vicinity.
“Scotch it is, then,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Damon,” Elena said. There was almost a growl to her voice. It was... cute.
“And a scotch for Elena,” he said aloud, pouring another glass.
Her lips pressed into a flat line, but she stood and accepted the glass from his hand. “Why are you here, Jer?” she asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about Uncle John,” he said.
Damon smiled coldly, that was his first lie. He watched Elena frown. Obviously, she could sense something a little off about his answer, too.
“Couldn't it have waited until I got home?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said, as he threw the drink down his throat and made a face.
“In need of some courage?” Damon asked, amused.
“Something like that,” he said hoarsely.
“Jer, I think we should go home,” Elena said, her hand resting on his arm as she glanced at Stefan. Stefan, ever the knight errant, stepped up.
“Not yet, I haven't done what I came here for,” Jeremy said, his hands digging into his pockets as he glanced at Stefan.
“And what was that?” Stefan asked.
The next few moments were so unexpected, Damon didn't have time to react. He had been expecting an attack from the elder Gilbert, or one of Pearl's motley crew. He hadn't expected it from Elena's innocuous little brother. He should have known better. He was a Gilbert, after all.
Elena, however, must have heard something in his voice, because at the exact last moment, she stepped into the stake's path, in front of Stefan.
“NO!” Jeremy's and Stefan's voices blended into one, as the stake sank into Elena's chest. Her eyes widened as she clutched at it, her legs giving away beneath her.
Damon watched as blood dripped onto the Persian rug. “Well, Shit,” he said. "I knew today wasn't going to be good."
PART THREE
Title A Vampire's Policy
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG3
Category: Drama
Spoilers: 1x18
Warnings: It has vampires?
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Previous parts: ONE:
-----------------------------------
PART TWO
Stefan had drained the glass dry.
Damon picked it up and examined it. He wasn't really sure how he felt about this new development. He really shouldn't care at all. After all, filial feeling wasn't exactly an affliction he was noted for...unless one counted his occasional homicidal urges.
“You left the blood behind on purpose,” came Stefan's voice, from the stairs.
“Yeah, that's me, your friendly neighbourhood enabler,” Damon said dryly.
“You're just loving this, aren't you?”
“Not particularly,” he said. “Although we have enough problems without you frothing at the mouth at the whiff of every scratch and cut within a two mile radius. That was getting old.” He dropped the tumbler back onto the coffee table. “How's Elena?”
“Leave Elena out of this.” Stefan said, buttoning his shirt as he descended the steps.
“Broken it off, have you? Done the right thing, and all that?” Damon drawled sarcastically.
“You wouldn't know what the right thing was if it smacked you in the face, Damon,” Stefan said.
Damon eyed him. “You're looking chirpy. The new diet must be agreeing with you.”
“I'm going back to school, today,” Stefan said, ignoring his comment.
“Good thing, too, I got another one of those irritating letters from the school yesterday,” Damon muttered, as he closed in on the liquor cabinet. “Say hi to Elena for me.”
Stefan threw him a long look . “We need to talk later,” he said, as he headed for the door. “About Elena's uncle, and how to deal with him.”
“Sounds like fun. Bring her along, she's going to love this,” Damon said, with a smirk.
“Elena has nothing to do with it,” Stefan threw over his shoulder.
“Could have fooled me. I'd have said she was dead center.” But Stefan was already gone, and Damon pulled a face. “Well, this is going to be a fun day,” he said to himself, as he poured himself a scotch.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Elena paced in front of Stefan's locker, not able to shake that edgy feeling that had been plaguing her for the last few days. She wondered if he'd changed his mind, and decided not to come to school, after all. She checked her watch, another five minutes until class.
“Hi.”
Elena whirled on her feet. “Stefan,” she said. You look...good.” And he did. He looked relaxed, and there was colour in his cheeks, which hadn't been there the night before, after the founder's party. In fact, she'd never seen Stefan looking so good. She gave him a tentative smile, as he grinned and took her hand.
“The worst seems to be over,” he told her.
Elena laughed with relief. So much for Damon's dire predictions. “See, I told you everything would work out,” she said
“Your wisdom knows no bounds,” he teased, as he pulled her in for a kiss.
The kiss was firm and heated, and Elena felt desire build in the pit of her stomach. She would never admit it to anyone, but ever since she'd drunk Damon's blood, she was feeling a bit...well, she was glad Stefan was beginning to get himself under control. She missed him.
Elena pushed the thought of Damon out of her mind, and concentrated on the feel of Stefan's lips, and his hands on the small of her back. She ignored the catcalls coming from a passing group of juniors, and wondered if they'd get away with playing hookie for the afternoon...
The bell rang.
“See you after class?” Stefan asked, pulling away.
“We could have lunch at your place,” Elena said suggestively.
A cloud passed over Stefan's expression. “Elena, before you come over to the house, I have to tell you a few things.”
"Is it serious?” Elena asked, frowning.
“Serious, but not terminal...yet.”
“Okay, I'll see you at lunch,” Elena said. Stefan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go, but Elena felt the ball in the pit of her stomach tighten as he walked away.
~~~*~***~*~~~
There was exactly one heartbeat inside the Gilbert household and, as Elena's brother was at school, and her aunt at work, that only left her adoring Uncle John. Damon smirked as he glided around the house and tried the kitchen door. It was open.
John Gilbert was sitting at the kitchen's island table, drinking coffee, when he entered. He went very still when he spotted Damon. “Let me guess, it was my darling niece who invited you in.”
“Meeeeep, wrong answer, try again,” Damon said coolly.
“Why are you here? I've already said all I'm going to say, and we've already discussed how it wasn't in your interests to kill me.”
“Oh, I haven't quite given up on that, yet,” Damon said. “But, meanwhile, you can keep me entertained by telling me the full story. I'm sure it's very scintillating.”
“And why should I do that?”
“Because you may have a ring, but the rest of your family don't,” Damon said darkly.
“You're threatening my family?” he said, with a snort.
“Not threatening, promising,” Damon said, leaning over the counter. It occurred to him that he may not be able to kill the bastard, but he might be able to torture him. Pain was a great tongue loosener.
A creak, like the sound of a loose floorboard being stepped on, came from the hallway, and Damon's eyes narrowed. “Hold that thought,” he said, before he blurred across the kitchen and pulled open the door.
In the hallway stood Elena's brother.
“Uh, hi,” he said, sheepishly.
Damon eyed him. “Skipping school?” he asked.
“Free period,” Jeremy said.
Damon had the very definite feeling that Jeremy Gilbert knew more than he should. Pity he'd promised Elena that he'd leave the boy alone...oh, who was he kidding? He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. Maybe Pearl had a point, after all.
“I'll see you later,” he said to John, over his shoulder. “We'll discuss this at more length.”
“Don't hold your breath!” John Gilbert said.
“What was that about?” he heard Elena's brother ask as he left. To his ears, the question sounded unconvincing. His uncle, however, seemed to think little Jeremy was still operating in the dark.
“Just town council stuff,” he heard Gilbert say.
Damon rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Elena slumped against the bonnet of her car as Stefan finished his story. “So you're telling me that Damon tried to kill my Uncle John, last night?” she asked.
“Not tried - did,” Stefan said. “It just didn't take.”
Elena's eyebrows rose. “He's a vampire?”
“No, he's wearing one of those rings - the same as Alaric's.”
“This doesn't make sense,” Elena said, frustrated. “If my uncle knows about you and Damon, why hasn't he told the council? My uncle may be an ass, but he's all about town pride.”
Stefan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he admitted. “Damon said something about us needing to talk tonight. I'm guessing he found out something at the party, while we were talking.”
Elena nodded grimly. “Lets go, then,” she said, as she felt the anger simmer up inside her.
“Elena, are you sure you want to do this? You know how Damon can be.”
“I'm positive,” Elena said. It was time she got some answers and, while she was at it, made sure Damon knew he couldn't toy with her life, or her family.
~~~*~***~*~~~
Damon smirked.
She was furious. Even if Damon hadn't been able to feel her through their blood tie, he'd be hard pressed to ignore the ire in her eyes. “I take it he's given you the abridged version, then,” he drawled.
“There's is nothing you can add that will change the fact you are a complete slime ball,” Elena bit out.
Damon shrugged. “True, but I have to say your darling uncle is giving me a run for my money.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
Damon threw himself onto the couch, and eyed her tightly wound body. It had been five days since she'd fed on his blood, and a few weeks before that since he'd fed her the first time. She might not know what was happening, but she was definitely craving it. “I'll give you three guesses as to who told your birth mom that I'd be the ideal candidate to turn her,” he said, aloud.
Elena looked at him silently as comprehension dawned. “That doesn't make sense,” she eventually said.
Damon laughed. “You know what else doesn't make sense?” he said. “The part where he walked away from a three story drop without a scratch. It seems he's got a magic-cannot-die-ring, too. Apparently, the one he gave your birth mom was his own, but the one he wears now he inherited from your father... but if Daddy dearest had a ring, why did he die in the first place?” He took a swig of his scotch. “Just something to think about.”
“I...I need to sit down,” Elena said softly, as she perched on the edge of an armchair..
“I need another drink,” Damon said cheerfully. “How about you, Stefan? In need of some liquid refreshment?” he smiled wolfishly, and Stefan coloured. Too bad Elena was too worried to register lover boy's reaction.
The doorbell rang, and Damon's head went up as he recognised the heartbeat. It was pounding in the kid's chest. “Your brother is at door, Elena,” he drawled. “Tell me, how's that going? Handling it, are we?”
“I told you, I can deal with it,” Elena said heatedly.
“The kid is snooping around at closed doors,” Damon shot back. “Try harder or, failing that, get that bracelet off him, so I can handle the problem myself.”
“You are not going near him,” Elena snapped, jumping to her feet. “So help me, Damon, if you touch one hair on his head--”
“I'll just answer the door, shall I?” Stefan interrupted dryly.
Elena slumped back into her seat and nodded silently, and Damon smiled as he draped himself on the couch, studying her. She was trying not to show it, but she could feel his eyes on her. He deliberately let her eyes wander downward, and watched her stiffen involuntarily. This was going to be fun.
“Elena, it's your brother,” Stefan announced, as he strolled into the room.
“Wow, what a surprise,” Damon said, with a grin. “Drink?”
“No, he doesn't want a drink,” Elena said, through gritted teeth.
“Actually, I wouldn't mind,” Jeremy contradicted.
“What's your poison?” Damon asked lightly, as he got to his feet and crossed to the liquor cabinet.
“I'll have whatever you're having.” the kid said as he joined him. There was a slight quiver to his voice, but Damon ignored it. In his experience, this happened a lot in his vicinity.
“Scotch it is, then,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Damon,” Elena said. There was almost a growl to her voice. It was... cute.
“And a scotch for Elena,” he said aloud, pouring another glass.
Her lips pressed into a flat line, but she stood and accepted the glass from his hand. “Why are you here, Jer?” she asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about Uncle John,” he said.
Damon smiled coldly, that was his first lie. He watched Elena frown. Obviously, she could sense something a little off about his answer, too.
“Couldn't it have waited until I got home?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said, as he threw the drink down his throat and made a face.
“In need of some courage?” Damon asked, amused.
“Something like that,” he said hoarsely.
“Jer, I think we should go home,” Elena said, her hand resting on his arm as she glanced at Stefan. Stefan, ever the knight errant, stepped up.
“Not yet, I haven't done what I came here for,” Jeremy said, his hands digging into his pockets as he glanced at Stefan.
“And what was that?” Stefan asked.
The next few moments were so unexpected, Damon didn't have time to react. He had been expecting an attack from the elder Gilbert, or one of Pearl's motley crew. He hadn't expected it from Elena's innocuous little brother. He should have known better. He was a Gilbert, after all.
Elena, however, must have heard something in his voice, because at the exact last moment, she stepped into the stake's path, in front of Stefan.
“NO!” Jeremy's and Stefan's voices blended into one, as the stake sank into Elena's chest. Her eyes widened as she clutched at it, her legs giving away beneath her.
Damon watched as blood dripped onto the Persian rug. “Well, Shit,” he said. "I knew today wasn't going to be good."
PART THREE