But, it gives him purpose and direction. He was never bad with numbers. He actually keeps the books well until he gets sick of keeping the books and hires someone outside.
He chooses, then, to stop hiring the teenagers that graduate, die, or move away, and to instead, hire the mainstays and newbies.
Damon's not a bad boss, not by a mile. It's mom and pop so as long as you're not trashed, drinking, and driving, you can sip something during your shift or drink with the customer. It's a wonder the Mystic Falls has actually made a profit. It could be his upgrades. It's more modern now with one of those app-based jukeboxes he occasionally forgets to turn on some days.
But, Damon Salvatore? Is pretty happy. His best friend comes in on the nights she doesn't have to work the next day. His other best friend travels. He's mad at her. (He's not mad at her. She deserves the world.) This Damon is more settled, on the blood bag wagon, and actually maintains his interpersonal relationships. Friendly ones, anyway.
It's been awhile in any other capacity.
Damon's working on himself, didn't you know? He learned it from his best friend.
He sets down a napkin and her drink and presents her with the menu. )
Seven and seven. And a menu.
( It's a slow night for them, so Damon's able to stay close as he checks his phone and waits for her to peruse her choices. )
I'd think there was a hurricane happening if I didn't know any better.
[But that's not the thing that gets her to meet his gaze from the menu. She lets him ramble about the air fryer, up until he asks for her ID. Then, she glances up, giving him one of those trademark Lydia MartinTM looks before leaning in.]
You know, if you're going to fake check my ID to try and find out my name, you should probably do it before bringing me an alcoholic beverage.
[She then points to the mixed drink that he brought her earlier.]
( Well. Kitty has claws. And she's a redhead. Fiery. Look, Damon Salvatore's thought processes have never been savory, or uninsulting. Or, original. But, she catches his attention, officially. )
Well, I'd tell you I was check-checking your ID, just doing things out of order, but, please. Keep your ID. How is your twenty first birthday going? Besides the rain-out. There is always tomorrow.
[Twenty-one? Well that's generous. And she'll let him be generous because she knows when to take a compliment.]
Would you rather I assume that you were bad at bar tending? Because I think those were your two options there.
[She's mostly teasing though. It's nice to have a conversation with someone she doesn't know forever, though Stiles has conditioned her to be combative by nature.
( He takes the menu back, tucking it under with a smile. )
I'm not worried about my reputation.
( Turning for the moment, he taps in her order. For Damon, it is good to talk to someone new. It doesn't happen. Or, if it does, they're a threat. Or, boring. She's not one of those things.
Turning back, he sips from soda water in a plastic cup. )
When you do brave the elements again, I have an umbrella you can borrow. ( If she wants to. Setting the cup down, he steps forward again. ) Why were there only two options? Generosity or being bad at bartending? What about, giving you a compliment? Not trying to offend you. Alotta reasons to card and not to card.
( But, the teasing he gives is refreshing, and it shows as he sets two shot glasses in front of him. ) Do you have a particular poison, Red?
Well, as kind as your earlier compliment was, I know I don't look twenty-one. And again, there's an order to these things.
[She's been in enough bars to know that.]
A girl orders a drink, you ask the girl for her ID, then you bring the drink. Social scripts. You deviate, and people are going to assume less than favorable things.
( As she didn't give him her poison for a shot, she did order the seven and seven, so she pours a more palatable whiskey to shoot, one in each small shot glass. )
[Okay, she'll play the game. And she didn't answer because she was still nursing the drink she already had. Still, she straightens a bit, before studying him.]
You have expensive taste for a bartender - at least a bartender of this establishment. And don't get me wrong, you mix a good drink, but I wouldn't say you spend a lot of your time behind the bar. You seem pretty comfortable here, though, so I'd say you've been in this little town for a while.
[And there's something else. Something that nags in the back of her mind, but it's not her personal intuition that's tingling. It's the other part of her that she doesn't want to deal with when playing a game with a cute bartender.]
( He matches her ease with someone who barely metabolizes alcohol and drinks like a fish like all vampires. )
You're meticulous. You like things just so, and you make decisions for a reason. What you where any day, how you wear your hair. Just the right shade of lipstick. You stand out in a town like this, but you're also comfortable in a town like this, which either means you're an everyman - so to speak - or you grew up in a town, much like this. Probably bigger. You also have expensive taste, but, like how you choose what you wear, you buy with purpose. You don't buy to buy. And you recognize that in others. You know what you like. You don't settle for less than you're worth.
( He says everything as if he's studying her, but not as if he's dissecting her. He's not trying to pick her apart, and he speaks with the tilt of his head.
This isn't the part where I tell you I'm not most people. ( He sets the prepared drinks by a tray and sticks the corresponding tickets to them. ) But, that doesn't mean I'm not.
( One of his waiters walks over Lydia's order, holding the tray from the bottom. )
Right here. Bar one. The well-dressed redhead.
( Yes, within earshot of her. She knows she's well dressed. )
Not at all related, I still never got your name. Should you want to give it, I'd listen. ( He'd learn it. )
( He does let her eat and mind any messages in piece, as he's still working.
Soon enough, someone comes to relieve him, which means taking one of the registers in the back and counting. That takes only about twenty minutes and then he's properly tapping the machine and clocking out.
Ending up on the other side of the bar, he pulls on his jacket approaches a seat -- two away from Lydia. )
Do you mind if I take a seat? Some nights I stay after. Celebrate the job well done.
( There's also barely anything to do in this town. It's the Grille, the bar on the interstate, or Damon's house. Which is, much more compact compared to the Salvatore School aka the old boarding house. Without Stefan, that place is large. )
[She's had better, but she's not here to insult the owner of the establishment. And the only reason she'd call them better was because they were in Beacon Hills, and a staple of her childhood.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
that weather. that discovery. that entire caroline ordeal
But, it gives him purpose and direction. He was never bad with numbers. He actually keeps the books well until he gets sick of keeping the books and hires someone outside.
He chooses, then, to stop hiring the teenagers that graduate, die, or move away, and to instead, hire the mainstays and newbies.
Damon's not a bad boss, not by a mile. It's mom and pop so as long as you're not trashed, drinking, and driving, you can sip something during your shift or drink with the customer. It's a wonder the Mystic Falls has actually made a profit. It could be his upgrades. It's more modern now with one of those app-based jukeboxes he occasionally forgets to turn on some days.
But, Damon Salvatore? Is pretty happy. His best friend comes in on the nights she doesn't have to work the next day. His other best friend travels. He's mad at her. (He's not mad at her. She deserves the world.) This Damon is more settled, on the blood bag wagon, and actually maintains his interpersonal relationships. Friendly ones, anyway.
It's been awhile in any other capacity.
Damon's working on himself, didn't you know? He learned it from his best friend.
He sets down a napkin and her drink and presents her with the menu. )
Seven and seven. And a menu.
( It's a slow night for them, so Damon's able to stay close as he checks his phone and waits for her to peruse her choices. )
Passing through?
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[She lets her eyes scan the menu, trying to find something appropriately fitting before tipping her head to the side.]
How are the curly fries?
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( He looks up from his phone, setting it back down. He could check the weather, but that would defeat the purpose of getting to know her. )
Best in Mystic Falls. ( And the only in Mystic Falls. ) Actually, best between here and the interstate. We got an air fryer.
( Modernizations! )
And, can I see ID.
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[But that's not the thing that gets her to meet his gaze from the menu. She lets him ramble about the air fryer, up until he asks for her ID. Then, she glances up, giving him one of those trademark Lydia MartinTM looks before leaning in.]
You know, if you're going to fake check my ID to try and find out my name, you should probably do it before bringing me an alcoholic beverage.
[She then points to the mixed drink that he brought her earlier.]
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Well, I'd tell you I was check-checking your ID, just doing things out of order, but, please. Keep your ID. How is your twenty first birthday going? Besides the rain-out. There is always tomorrow.
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Would you rather I assume that you were bad at bar tending? Because I think those were your two options there.
[She's mostly teasing though. It's nice to have a conversation with someone she doesn't know forever, though Stiles has conditioned her to be combative by nature.
She then hands him back the menu.]
I'll have the chicken sandwich, with curly fries.
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I'm not worried about my reputation.
( Turning for the moment, he taps in her order. For Damon, it is good to talk to someone new. It doesn't happen. Or, if it does, they're a threat. Or, boring. She's not one of those things.
Turning back, he sips from soda water in a plastic cup. )
When you do brave the elements again, I have an umbrella you can borrow. ( If she wants to. Setting the cup down, he steps forward again. ) Why were there only two options? Generosity or being bad at bartending? What about, giving you a compliment? Not trying to offend you. Alotta reasons to card and not to card.
( But, the teasing he gives is refreshing, and it shows as he sets two shot glasses in front of him. ) Do you have a particular poison, Red?
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[She's been in enough bars to know that.]
A girl orders a drink, you ask the girl for her ID, then you bring the drink. Social scripts. You deviate, and people are going to assume less than favorable things.
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Maybe. But, people have assumed worse about me. It's never bothered me. Do people assume anything about you?
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[She shrugs.]
We see people and we look at their clothes, and their style and their hair, and try to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
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( As she didn't give him her poison for a shot, she did order the seven and seven, so she pours a more palatable whiskey to shoot, one in each small shot glass. )
And then I'll do you.
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You have expensive taste for a bartender - at least a bartender of this establishment. And don't get me wrong, you mix a good drink, but I wouldn't say you spend a lot of your time behind the bar. You seem pretty comfortable here, though, so I'd say you've been in this little town for a while.
[And there's something else. Something that nags in the back of her mind, but it's not her personal intuition that's tingling. It's the other part of her that she doesn't want to deal with when playing a game with a cute bartender.]
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He sets the one shot out for her as he speaks. As he sets it down, he speaks. )
All true. I was born here. I have better taste than 90% of this town, and, I own this place. I bartend when I have to. Mine called in.
( So, he stepped up. )
Truth be told, I'm covering for another hour and then I'm off. I have someone coming in. All good catches.
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[She will take the shot, though. Swallow it back with the practiced ease of someone who has to find dead people all the time.]
Your turn.
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You're meticulous. You like things just so, and you make decisions for a reason. What you where any day, how you wear your hair. Just the right shade of lipstick. You stand out in a town like this, but you're also comfortable in a town like this, which either means you're an everyman - so to speak - or you grew up in a town, much like this. Probably bigger. You also have expensive taste, but, like how you choose what you wear, you buy with purpose. You don't buy to buy. And you recognize that in others. You know what you like. You don't settle for less than you're worth.
( He says everything as if he's studying her, but not as if he's dissecting her. He's not trying to pick her apart, and he speaks with the tilt of his head.
He smiles. )
How'd I do?
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Not bad. But Beacon Hills actually wasn't bigger. Just about the same.
[So basically the size was an optical And well, she thinks her clothes speak for themselves.]
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( Damon does have two waiters, but he gets a ticket or two that pops up. So, he makes the drinks adjacent to Lydia, so he can still hear her answers.
And yeah, Lydia, he's a bartender. He'd hope he's more perspective than just a bartender, though. )
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[She doesn't miss Beacon Hills, but she does miss the California weather.]
Most people haven't heard of it.
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( One of his waiters walks over Lydia's order, holding the tray from the bottom. )
Right here. Bar one. The well-dressed redhead.
( Yes, within earshot of her. She knows she's well dressed. )
Not at all related, I still never got your name. Should you want to give it, I'd listen. ( He'd learn it. )
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Lydia.
[Being her name.]
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( He does let her eat and mind any messages in piece, as he's still working.
Soon enough, someone comes to relieve him, which means taking one of the registers in the back and counting. That takes only about twenty minutes and then he's properly tapping the machine and clocking out.
Ending up on the other side of the bar, he pulls on his jacket approaches a seat -- two away from Lydia. )
Do you mind if I take a seat? Some nights I stay after. Celebrate the job well done.
( There's also barely anything to do in this town. It's the Grille, the bar on the interstate, or Damon's house. Which is, much more compact compared to the Salvatore School aka the old boarding house. Without Stefan, that place is large. )
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Free country. And you do own the place.
[So she's not going to tell Damon that he can't sit in his own bar. She also is intrigued by him, but that's not important to his question.]
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( But, she says it's a free country, so he takes a seat next to her. )
How did you like the county's best curly fries, Lydia?
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[She's had better, but she's not here to insult the owner of the establishment. And the only reason she'd call them better was because they were in Beacon Hills, and a staple of her childhood.]
For an air fryer.
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( He speaks into his glass, his voice echoing as he half smiles. )
Ouch. I'll have you know we're state of the art in the Mystic Grill.
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and separately, for Isaac & Cora
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