Who: Katherine & Damon What: Damon mistakes Katherine for Elena, but the two do some bonding anyway When: February Where: Purgatory Rating/Warnings: Language, vampirism references, heavy flirting Status: Complete!
Damon wasnât working tonight. Even when he wasnât working, he could usually be found in his club. He would have a drink or two, but he was far from drunk, especially with his vampire constitution. He could also keep his eyes on the staff, and make sure everything was done just the way he liked it. Purgatory was his baby, and he wasnât about to let it suffer.
He spotted a woman across the bar, head turned to obscure her face. The hair was achingly familiar. Elena had been on his mind often enough lately, especially since he was now single. It was odd how that worked. He didnât appreciate her enough when he had her right there, but there had also been something wrong. Time healed the wounds, and he was resurfacing, older now. Possibly wiser. The jury was still out on that.
He walked around the bar, keeping his eyes on the woman. He still hadnât seen her face until he was right there. âElena?â he asked, waiting for her to turn.
That was a name she hoped to never be called because, guess what, wrong sister.
Up until that point, Katherine was having a damn good time, talk about difficult when trying to find a watering hole that wasnât geared to the hipster crowd with Mumford & Sons on a constant loop. Purgatory was a pleasant surprise - she needed the strobes of flashing light, needed vibration of bass, that fast-paced rhythm to distract herself from the fact that those stupid dreams actually did hold echoes of this life, too.
Two tequila shots in and her body was almost, almost able to forget those aches of childbirth from the less medically advanced fifteenth century. It almost made her forget Niklaus, and it almost made her forget Elijah.
Maybe a third would do the trick. Katherine wasnât drunk, not by any means, but her cheeks were lightly flushed, and it was while she was waiting for the pour of Mr. Cuervo in a small glass that she slowly turned. Hand to her cocked hips, dangling earrings visible despite the meticulous curls of hair, and smokey-shadowed eyes that tightened at the -
Well, the description would have been âdipshit,â but sheâd rescind and replace it with âeye candy.â
âWrong,â she answered with a roll of her eyes, visibly annoyed. Her style was different from her siblingâs, and all her mannerisms too. âItâs Katherine. The evil twin. Can I help you or something?â
âEvil twin? Really?â Damonâs brow arched. He nodded to the bartender and took the bottle, pouring the shot himself. âIâm pretty sure the term is exaggerated.â
He looked her over, noticing all the differences that came with not only the aesthetic, but the attitude. He had heard about the long lost twin. Sheâd had a few problems, but all were kept to minimal descriptions. âI didnât expect you in town, at least not with your sister off at some study program.â
He poured himself a shot, and knocked it back. Blue eyes remained locked on the brunette. âWhat brings you to town?â
Who was he? Either a regular alcoholic around these parts or a manager, with the way he was given an entire bottle all for himself was her guess. âThat depends, handsome,â Katherine replied, scooting onto the vacant stool beside him. Her drink was slid towards her, salted rim and miniscule lime wedge perched at on the edge to sink her teeth into. âYouâre asking all these questions and I donât even know your name.â
Now, she wasnât opposed to be in the company of this tall drink of water - one could say the annoyance had dissipated a teensy bit, replaced by that token head tilt and a subtle, impish smirk.
That was, in itâs own way, an answer to a question that had went unasked. Elena and Damon had quite a relationship, both good and bad. Had Elena told her sister about him? The answer was likely not. At the time Elena was here, he didnât think they had spoken at all. He was quite sure that Jeremy and Lexi would fill her in on their past, paint him in the worst light, and issue the warnings against any involvement with the vampire bad-boy. He inserted that inward eye roll, as a smirk graced his lips.
âIâm Damon. This is my club. Welcome to Purgatory.â He wasnât about to focus on history with the twin of his ex. His history was not his present, and while others dwelled on it, he had chosen to move forward. âThe upstairs suite is more of a lounge if you prefer.â It was easier to talk in the second level, distinctly different from the first, an escape from the forbidden fruits found downstairs, and yet equally as sinful.
The vampire took another shot. It took well over a bottle to get him drunk, but it tapered the cravings for blood, and made it easier to interact without thinking of a pulsing carotid. The pale skin could be easily dismissed as someone who kept themselves indoors far too much. âWould you like another?â he asked, nodding to the drink in her hand, nearly finished.
If it involved Elena? Katherine didnât care. Maybe it was a petty feud carried throughout the years but sheâd rather not live every single second of her existence in the shadow of the flawless one - the one that could do no wrong, the one that didnât get knocked up in high school and put up resistance in giving her newborn up. For shame.
But Damon. Jeremy mentioned something with him and Elena, didnât he?
That shot of tequila was tossed down the hatch and the wedge brought to her mouth, taking a little bite to chase the flavor with some citrus zest. âNice, digs, Damon,â she winked. âBut I think Iâll take it slow to avoid getting sloppy over - hell, I always thought my liver was made of something tough, but you?â Katherine snorted, motioning over to the bottle. She was surprised he was talking coherently.
Speaking of that aforementioned lounge, though. Sounded cozy, and her sable eyes traveled to the upstairs area. âTell you what. We can go a little place less crowded, and you can share that bottle with me - as you regale me with whatever story you have of my sister. I usually donât care, but she never did seem like the bad boy type.â
And Damon looked like he was exactly that.
âPeople change,â he said. âEveryone needs a little spice.â His voice was butter smooth. He rose and picked up the bottle, offering the brunette his other arm. âCome with me, Kitten.â He had chosen her nickname already. Kitten, full of purrs and soft mews, and once angered, the hiss and the claws.
He escorted Katherine upstairs. The atmosphere changed from the thumping dance club, to a sultry piano bar. The noises was shielded enough, thanks to panels that deflected the sound on the main level. Who knew that proper construction could do that? The floor itself was a single room. The lights were dim, highlighting the bar on the right. A single bartender took care of the patrons, who talked amongst themselves around the bar or in private booths. A pianist was sat on the bench, playing through several melodies. Damon gave them a wave, and led the woman to the corner booth. He picked up two glasses and slid in next to her, closer now.
He poured the drinks, giving himself a bit more. It was noticeable, but not glaring. He was leading her questions subtly, deciding which he would answer and which he would give her but a string to chase. Letâs play, Kitten. âSo you want to know about your sister? I was a history teacher at her high school when she met me.â
Charming. Chivalry wasnât dead, and she went with him arm in arm, mouth forming a coy smile as they went up the stairs in unison. Damonâs pretty blue eyes could have easily convinced her to ride him like a bull in the sack if it werenât for the fact that he approached her under the impression that she was Elena - it was easy to catch on to the history, and it was ringing a bell now that she thought about it.
âElena went hot for teacher, didnât she,â Katherine deduced, the little black dress hiked up honey-toned thighs when she crossed her legs. Her knee brushed against him. âMm, scandalous.â Really, she looked downright tickled - sheâd been going through her own problems from her teen pregnancy scandal that was followed by a spiral of post-partum depression she crawled out of by the skin of her teeth and Little Miss Perfect had a thing for someone older? âHowâd that work out for you, Mr. Damon?â
Eyes tipped downward to her legs, skin bare. The effect wasnât lost on him, not at all. âMaybe we will just say that she wasnât ready for my life.â She could handle the vampirism, but his appetite for other things had been their undoing. The end came either way.
He took another shot, which would have technically put normal man on the floor. He was still unphased, challenging her to figure out how his words were as clear as his eyes. He sat back in the booth, eyes back on her legs. Riding him was not out of the question. âIâm surprised you havenât seen me in your dreams.â
The dreams would come to her if they hadnât already. He couldnât quite get a read on her just yet, and he wasnât sure how long she had been in town. The fact that he knew her would leave him to assume that she would follow into that bit of tumultuous history.
Katherine didnât mind his stares. She was used to having all eyes on her, of course, and she was not the least bit shy - hence the shameless drape of bare, silky-smooth leg over his lap. Her sisterâs taste had been surprisingly spicy but it goes to show, not even the Perfect Gilbert Sister could resist temptation when something exciting came her way.
âThatâs either an attempt for a suave pick up line,â she began, head cocked as she leered. âOr youâre hinting at one of those things.â Oh, you know, that thing she came to drink away? Every bit of it stung, and Elijahâs hints of what he knew five hundred years after their first meeting didnât bode well. âSeeing you in them would be a pretty sight of sore eyes. I wouldnât mind.â
Those legs, not so different from her sisters, and yet this woman was more seductive, more aware of wo she was. Elena was more reserved, but Katherine clearly was not. In the dreams, it was exactly the same. Art imitated life, he supposed. Here was to not having the same tumultuous run. His fingertip traced along the length of thigh draped over his own. Blue eyes tipped towards this kitten with claws that could gouge with the largest of cats.
âThose things are interesting. Donât hold them against me.â He knew all about those things. He wasnât sure where or when hers would start, but they would. âIt wasnât so pretty, but it was fun.â That wasnât exactly the right word. He and Katherineâs relationship wasnât good. Her eyes had been on Stefan, always. âI donât want to give you all the spoilers, other than you are the reason for my corrupt nature.â A slow smile spread over his lips, seductive and inviting.
Donât hold them against me. Katherine was good at picking up hints, and Damonâs words following clarified things a little more - the two of them had a thing, then, in this other life. A messy thing. Sometimes it was the best kind, wasnât it? It meant passion, a collision of fire and ice, lust and play. Always a sucker for the blue-eyed ones, wasnât she?
Pacing herself (because she was many things, but a sloppy drunk was not one of them), she swirled the liquid courage in her glass. âReally, I corrupted you?â The model was amused. Maybe even proud. âNothing ever ends up pretty with me, so no surprise thereâŚâ A finger hooked into the collar of his shirt. âBut I bet you and I made a one hell of a sexy trainwreck. Tell me, did I at least teach you anything good?â
Messy would be a very accurate word for the love/hate relationship that was Damon and Katherine. It was odd that he could feel it internally, the part of his vampire self that had been a soldier with dreams about a reunion with a girl, only to have her choose his brother. He had turned, he had waited, she betrayed him, and that set the tone through the years.
Blue eyes rose to meet hers, focused. His chin lowered. âYou taught me a lot of things.â His finger moved from her knee, up her thigh. âI could show you, but you might not want to stay.â His brow arched. She smelled delicious, both sensual and sexual. His mouth watered in a way that it didnât around most humans. He had learned to control the urges to feed and to taste, but she was making him want more.
Mmm, tease. Her pulse heightened (excitement, want), his touches causing a tingle to her skin, and the way she bit her bottom lip was coy but devilish. âShow me,â Katherine dared him and, swiftly, used that leg up his lap as leverage to move seamlessly onto his lap. A flatout straddle with her thighs spread, knees hugging him, not caring about small crowd mingling on this floor - if they wanted to stare at the pretty people then by all means, stare. She liked attention.
And look, she didnât even spill her drink. It was still in her hand while the other slid from his shoulder and down his chest.
âIâm here to have a good time, honey,â she purred. âYou can give me a more private tour if you want. Youâve got a favorite room?â
Damonâs tongue ran over the canines, so prominent in his mouth. He couldnât always control them, the same way a teenager couldnât control the multiple erections every day. He could control the use of them, but ohhhhh, he didnât want to. Her skin was far too sweet and sinful to be left untouched.
With far too many thoughts in his head, he finished his drink. Never since Sam had anyone got into his head so quickly. While the dreams would shake her ideas of him, he was determined to give her quite a different impression in reality.
He picked up her hand from his chest, bringing her fingers to his lips. His mouth cracked just a bit, barely revealing the tip of the fang. Instead, he kissed her fingers. âI think we can find my office easily enough.â His haunt was across the room, through the door next to the bar. It was his own sanctuary. He finished the drink, sliding them both out of the booth.
Katherine followed by example. Mostly knocking out the rest of the drink in her glass, one last gulp - also her last taste of alcohol for tonight, she knew her limits, and was feeling swimmingly pleasant.
âLead the way,â she urged with a sultry smile, linking their arms. Might as well test the goods and see what drove her sister into riding this piece of decadent meat; maybe theyâd exchange notes.