BtVS: Alternate Lives

Who: Bella and Future!Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: December 5, 2018 (early evening)

( What a difference a day made, 24 little hours.... )

Who: Bella and Future!Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: December 4, 2018 (early afternoon)


( And I'd give it all away to have someone to come home to… )

Who: Bella
Where: Bella's home
When: December 4, 2018 (late morning)

( Is there somebody who still believes in love? I know you're out there…. )

Who: Damon and Bella
Where: Damon's apartment
When: Thursday night (December 3)


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Who: Bella and Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: Thursday night (Backdated to November 26, Thanksgiving)

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Who: Patience OT Pat, Ash, Gwen, Bella, Damon, Lucy, Kevin (+1?), Chloe, Nica, Marlowe, Jack, Louise, Mere, Devon
Where: Pat and Patience's house
When: Thursday night, Thanksgiving (November 26)


The timer on the oven dinged at exactly 7:45 PM. When she'd invited everyone over, she'd been upfront that dinner wouldn't start until after eight. Given the fact that certain invitees had a particular, um, sun allergy, she wanted to give them ample time to do…whatever they needed to do…before showing up. Hey. She wasn't well-versed in the ways of the vampire. They had sharp fangs and they drank blood. That was about the sum total that she really needed to know.

Also, the later they had dinner, the more time she had to actually prepare it.

This was the first time she'd ever attempted to cook a Thanksgiving dinner. Pat seemed overwhelmingly supportive of her domestic endeavors. It made her feel a little bit like that mom from Leave it to Beaver or something. Like maybe he wanted to come home to find her wearing her pearls and high heels while she was vacuuming. Then again, he'd probably love if he came home to find her in only that.

He wasn't hovering, per se, but she knew he was still worried about her. She hadn't suffered any more episodes like the night when he'd raced her to the hospital, but she still hadn't been in top form. She was okay tonight, though. They'd woken up early to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade – just the three of them curled up in bed: Pat, her, and Beast. The puppy was still the cutest thing she'd ever laid eyes on and she was horribly protective of him, especially when Pat tended to make fun of him. Still, he'd gotten a little too rambunctious earlier and she'd had to kick him out of the kitchen. (Not literally, of course. She'd just gotten Pat to take him back down to the basement.)

Oddly enough, there weren't any burnt smells wafting from the kitchen. It all smelled…like what she assumed Thanksgiving dinner should smell like. Grabbing a couple of potholders, she opened the oven door and pulled out the pan containing the turkey. The bird was golden brown and looked juicy, but everything she'd read on how to cook a turkey said to let it rest once it was done, so she resisted cutting into it to check. The vegetables that had been roasting in the pan looked tender. She could only hope it was all good.

She tented the pan with aluminum foil and then checked everything else she had going on. The potatoes had finished boiling and were just waiting to be mashed and mixed with butter and cream and fresh cracked pepper (she'd resisted making them from a box…okay, Pat had forbid her to make them from a box…which really just made her want to tell him he could fucking make them himself…but a part of her wanted their first Thanksgiving as husband and wife to be perfect…so she hadn't), the stuffing and the green bean casserole (which was a staple, right?) were still in the oven, the cranberry sauce and the green salad were in the refrigerator, and the rolls were waiting to be popped in to warm just before it was time to sit down and eat. Out on the table in the dining room, she'd set out a cheese and fruit tray, a few bottles of wine that had been chilled, and the desserts were being kept out of sight for fear that they'd disappear with some of those Van Warrens around.

Had she gone to a lot of work? Hell yeah. She felt like freaking Betty Crocker or some shit. But she just wanted everything to be nice. Normal. Traditional. Like an actual family holiday dinner. Making new, good memories about family and tradition could only help her and Ash.

Hearing voices from the dining room, Patience untied her apron, draped it over the counter, and paused to smooth out the skirt of her pewter colored dress before heading out to see who'd arrived.

Who: Chloe and Bella
Where: The Van Warren residence
When: Monday afternoon (November 23)

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Who: Bella OT Damien
Where: Damien's home
When: Sunday afternoon (November 22)

It was a rare afternoon when Bella had nothing to do and what plans she had to get some training in (usually without Damien's prior knowledge or consent – did she really think he lived and breathed to be at her beck and call?) didn't get sidetracked. Today, however, was one of those afternoons, and the Slayer had shown up to Damien's home in an almost microscopic denim skirt and a silky, slinky black halter top that laced across her back and left more skin bare total than it actually covered. She was a few inches taller, owing to the Manolo's strapped around her ankles, and her dark hair cascaded freely in wild, tousled waves around her shoulders. It had been…another late morning…and she'd showered at Damon's, tossed her clothes from the previous night back on, and had only stopped in at the Van Warren household long enough to grab her gym bag and run back out.

It was quite possible her appearance might make it look like the young Watcher had ordered up an afternoon delight, but…whatever.

Stifling a yawn, she hit the doorbell a few times, purposefully being annoying.

Who: Bella and Gwen
Where: Eden
When: Thursday night (November 19)


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Who: Bella and Damon (OT Continuation) Anyone
Where: Damon's apartment / Rodeo Drive
When: Saturday evening (November 14)


Bella needed to get out. Not for any particular purpose. She just wanted to...not think about everything that was going on. She wanted to...pretend that everything was normal for one night. To pretend that she wasn't getting looks (imagined or otherwise) about the whole Damon thing, that Ben Bale didn't exist, that her life wasn't such a fucked up mess of confusion. So what did she have in mind? Showing up at Damon's right at sunset, she let herself in, but didn't get too comfortable. She was wearing a chic, black strapless Armani mini-dress paired with Chanel sunglasses, a small black leather Chanel clutch and a pair of knee-high black leather stiletto boots. "Damon?" she called out, her tone startlingly serious, "I need you to do something for me."

A moment later Damon appeared at the top of the stairs and descended them wearing his usual PJ bottoms. Sleepily, he ran a hand through his hair and asked quietly, "What's wrong?"

With her expression, it wasn't out of the question that she might be about to ask him to kill someone for her. "How much do you love me?" she asked, her gaze steady as she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair like a makeshift headband.

A groggy smirk curved his lips and as he headed for the kitchen, he answered, "Is that a trick question?" Damon started filling up the coffee machine and then turned back to Bella as he waited.

"No!" She actually stomped her foot when he passed her and then turned to follow him. "Damon, this is serious." Her eyes were wide and luminous. Standing on the other side of the island, she tilted her head and just...watched. And then she put it out there. "You're taking me shopping. Tonight. Okay? Okay."

Concern furrowed his brows at her expression and Damon started to move around the island toward her, "Bella, you know that I lo--" He paused, literally in step and words when she finally said what she wanted to. The vampire blinked and then smiled, his expression mildly amused when he finally reached Bella. Lifting his hands, smoothing them along her hair while repeating her words, "Okay."

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Who: Bella OT Iris
Where: Chloe's Sugar Shack
When: Saturday afternoon (November 14)

It was only to be expected that in the circles she ran in, news about Ben was still…well, news. Bella could understand it. Didn't mean she had to care. Did that make her seem like an awful person? Well, maybe she'd been more vocal about it than necessary with Damon. At least she hadn't come right out and said, I wish he'd died. Although…. Well, she wasn't sure, either way. Would she have cared if he had? Would it have done anything to soften her heart toward him? To hear some of the details, it sounded like he'd been nailed pretty damn well.

But not well enough. Really, anyone who went to that much trouble and failed at actually killing a guy needed to be dragged out back and beaten.

Failure wasn't something Bella dealt well with.

At the same time, she wasn't skipping around the city whistling Zippity-Doo-Dah or anything. As disgruntled as people were about the Skylar-and-Ben situation, both still had a lot of friends. Some of those were people Bella would prefer not to alienate. Like Chloe. And…well, okay, maybe that was it.

Walking into the Sugar Shack, she smiled at the girls behind the counter and ordered a black coffee and a cookie. Fishing her wallet out of her purse, she paid and then also retrieved her cell phone, intending to call Damien to find out if he was free for an impromptu training session. If not, she'd just run through some things herself.

Who: Pat, open to Patience and any of their friends
Where: Avarice
When: Backdated to Thursday


To Patrick McConnell, this was the kind of day that made him glad to be alive. It was Patience's first birthday since coming back from The Great Beyond, and he knew damn well he had to make it special. He called everyone that his wife called a friend, and informed them of this party. He had plenty of gifts onhand (as well as a few more surprise ones wrapped and waiting at home), a huge birthday cake waiting to be brought out, and other surprises.

He looked around Avarice, which mostly looked as it usually did... save for the sorner he'd had reserved for this party. THAT section had been decorated festively, with multi-colored balloons, 'Happy Birthday' streamers, pretty much everything Pat could think of.

Sitting at the huge table he'd had set aside for them, he wore a classy pinstriped suitcoat over a white dress shirt and black slacks with, cutely enough, a little party hat on as well. 

Looking over at Patience, he grinned as he leaned over, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart... I love you."

Who: Bella OT Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: Thursday night

It was eight o'clock on the dot when Bella used her key to let herself into Damon's apartment. She didn't even bother buzzing or knocking anymore - which could have been considered a little invasive of his privacy, but at least she still called out to him as she closed the door and locked it.

"Hey. It's just me!"

As if he wouldn't have been able to tell. She inhaled deeply, trying to figure out what was on the menu, and smoothed her hands down her thighs. She was dressed semi-conservatively (for her) in a simple black Audrey Hepburn-esque, Breakfast at Tiffany's style dress that she'd actually borrowed from Patience. Hard to believe the bartender liked the whole vintage vibe, but maybe some things were just classic.

Her long hair was loose in soft waves, but held back from her face with a couple of ornate looking pearl and rhinestone combs. She'd even borrowed a triple-stranded pearl necklace that Patience had said was the only thing of any value she'd ever gotten from her mother. Not that Bella wanted to get started on that particular subject.

The only thing she was missing were the long black evening gloves, but...well...she wasn't trying to over do it.

Who: Bella & Damon
Where: Damon's apartment.
When: A phone call immediately after Old Friends.

Putting the mug away in one of the cabinets, Damon moved to the office door at the bottom of the stairs instead of going to bed like he intended. It suddenly seemed very important to the vampire to hear the sound of Bella's voice.

Settling in his desk chair, Damon hesitated in picking up the phone, wondering if he should wait a while longer. Bella was more than likely sleeping. Would she be put out if he woke her? Well, there was only one way to find out. Picking up the phone, the vampire dialed Bella's number and let it ring while turning on some music. A moment later, Billie Holiday's Solitude drifted from the speakers of his computer.

Who: Bella & Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: An hour or so after the dinner party scene.

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Who: Luke OT Lena, Damon, Louise, Bella (and NPCs)
Where: The Jacobs estate
When: Saturday night (October 24)

The lights outside the estate cast a golden aura around the palatial mansion that was set in the midst of a densely forested land that overlooked the rocky Pacific coast. Technically, the house was located in Malibu, and although it had been rebuilt and renovated a number of times, the land itself had been "in the family" for hundreds of years, which ensured a level of privacy above and beyond that which money could buy in this day and age. Over the last few decades, Luke had received numerous bids to buy up the extraneous areas surrounding the estate proper, but he didn't need the money as much as he needed the security of knowing that no pesky neighbors would be overhearing anything of particular interest.

The white marble floors of the dining hall gleamed beneath the recessed lighting and the flickering dance from the candles that lined the long table. The drapes had been drawn back from the windows to reveal the pristinely manicured grounds behind the estate, the stone terrace and eternity pool, which led down toward the formal gardens and, beyond that, the tennis courts, stables, and a myriad of romantic courtyards hidden among the outcrop of orchards and natural wooded areas. It seemed a bit much for a vampire, perhaps, but Luke prided himself on enjoying the best this world had to offer. The same could not be said for all of his kind, he realized, but there was no reason not to live life to the fullest, as far as he could see.

Sitting at the head of the table, he gazed down its length, taking in the mixed company before his eyes met Lena's and his lips twitched into the half-amused smirk that often graced his features. The table was impeccable, boasting what would have been a mouthwatering array of French cuisine, had his palate not been cultivated to a particular type of delicacy. The twittering of a few of the more bold females among the group verged on inane babble, but soon enough they would be silenced, if only for a while. Their party was almost complete, save for the two empty chairs at his right and left hand. Those were reserved for his guests of honor, of course.

Both of whom, judging by the silent appearance of the black-clad butler just beyond the threshold, had arrived. Rising in one fluid motion, Luke gave a nod toward Lena and started across room. He cut an imposing figure, despite the fact that his build was long and lean – more athletic than brawny. It was in his carriage, which spoke of breeding and privilege. That was something he'd picked up even before he'd been turned. As such, certain proclivities continued to suit his tastes more than others. For instance, he followed very little about fashion, could not have named any of the more "popular" labels, and yet he looked beyond reproach of even the most critical eye in his midnight blue dress shirt and inky black trousers, because he still insisted on having all of his clothing tailor made.

When he spotted Damon and the young woman he could only assume was the sad creature his friend had fixated upon, Luke's smile widened slowly. It was the look of a predator if there ever was one, and yet he still made it seem charming. His gaze ran up and down her body, taking in the dress she wore, but more interested in the parts it didn't didn't cover.

"Mm," he murmured as he inhaled her scent even from a few feet away and his amused gaze turned to his old friend. "Delectable."

Who: Damon and Bella
Where: Bella Cucina
When: Friday night (October 23)

Even though she'd woken up at Damon's apartment again this morning, Bella was still a little anxious to see him tonight. Why? Because it was their first date, technically speaking. Like, an honest-to-God date. Not only was it their first, but was like her first date ever, all over again, since she really couldn't remember what her first date had been like. She'd changed dresses four times, had curled her hair, then straightened her hair, then washed it again so she could curl it again.

Now in a strapless, curve-hugging, black satin Versace mini-dress and a pair of matching heels, she paced in the living room, checking the clock every five minutes. He wasn't late, so there was no reason for her to be so nervous. Christ, it wasn't like he hadn't seen her naked already anyway. Or vice versa. Really. What was there to be nervous about?

Who: Bella and Damon
Where: Damon's apartment
When: Thursday morning (October 22)

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Who: Damon and Bella
Where: Damon's apartment
When: Wednesday night, late (October 21)

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[Note: Not X-rated or even R-rated, but it does get a little PG-13 level of risque near the end. Be warned.]

Who: Patience and Pat OT Wedding Guests
Where: The Grove @ The Ephemeral Gardens
When: Saturday night, directly after the wedding (October 17)

Once the ceremony was over, Patience wanted to speed through signing the marriage license and taking a metric fuck-ton of pictures with the bridal party. Not that she didn't love everyone for being a part of this, but it was done. She was officially, legally, Mrs. Patrick McConnell. Nothing else mattered except kicking off her shoes and dancing the night away underneath the stars with her absolutely amazing husband.

All right. Maybe she'd have some food and do a few shots, too, but the bottom line was that she wanted to PARTY. It was amazing to her that nothing oh-my-god AWFUL had happened during the ceremony. It didn't feel completely real…until she looked down at the wedding ring on her hand and then it all hit her. So, yeah, she kept staring at it. That didn't make her a freak or anything.

She'd pulled Pat into another borderline inappropriate kiss once they'd joined the guests – not that anyone should have been a stranger to seeing them all over each other. Laughing and smiling – happier than she could ever remember being in her life – she'd taken his hand as they moved to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Going with the Beatles theme, they'd agreed on Ozzy's cover of "In My Life" - and funny as it could have been, she simply thought it was utterly romantic.