Why would we apologize? It's the natural food chain, like lions and gazelles. Only I don't kill the people I eat.
[ mostly. these days. he's a work in progress, okay? ]
Being rabid on werewolf venom is different. I've never been one to turn down some violent hedonism, but if you'd ended up putting me down you'd have been right to.
[ we're not addressing the human elephant in the room, okay? ]
( at her door, buffy gives damon a careful, considering once over, like the words i am no longer a vampire might be plastered on his chest somewhere. it's not immediately apparent to buffy, who has a stake in her hand but isn't poised to use it, pressed as it is to the wood of the door. buffy isn't an idiot, after all, but she also isn't an asshole. prepare for vampirism, but be willing to accept humanity.
in any case, she quietly takes a step back. a couple. it's a pointed motion, not inviting him inside, a test to know exactly what she's dealing with. )
[ damon notes the stake, notes the steps back. he's not obtuse—not without trying to be on purpose—so he's perfectly aware of what buffy is trying to get from him. it's not even the most unreasonable way she could check whether he's as human as stefan no doubt explained to her he now is.
and yet there is the stake, and damon's never known a vampire hunter to act rationally. ]
Toss the stake and I'll come inside. Sharp and wooden's deadly no matter who you are.
[ a compromise, just to show her he's willing to play ball: he shifts his footing, purposefully stepping his foot halfway across her threshold. see, human enough to get past a threshold—but still vampire enough not to want to be in a room with a slayer with a stake in her hand. ]
( buffy can be cautious, even overly careful, but there's no escaping what that toeing line means. vampire rules are sometimes bendy and loose, but the being invited in thing is about as rigid as they come. she eyes him for a second longer, jaw straining to the side, before she continues her retreat, backing up until she reaches her vanity. among the many girlish things spread out on it — make-up and perfumes and frilly coquette things — a drawer is open, full to the brim of stakes and labelled holy water. she drops her current weapon into the drawer and hip checks it closed, crossing back to the center of the room. )
You know, I'd argue men are deadly no matter who you are, ( she hums, before plopping down on on the foot of her bed, leaning back. see? totally nonthreatening. except — ) but you're not. Not to me.
You know what always starts a relationship right, [ blithe, stepping through the doorway, ] veiled threats. That's definitely always made me friends.
[ her room is—look, damon's best friend is a history teacher by day, vampire hunter by night, he's used to hunters looking nothing like you'd expect them to.
this is a bit more surreal of a disconnect than ric sitting in his classroom grading papers with stakes stashed in his bottom drawer, though. that's so much pink. ]
Been thinking about it on the way over here, and actually, [ he shrugs, disaffected, ] I don't owe you the apology, do I? Wasn't you I chowed down on.
( buffy's brows pinch together. friends? on who's radar?
that said, a sassy vampire trying to be her friend is not really the most unlikely thing to happen to her, despite slayerism. buffy's mouth is instinctively pouty, expression instinctively drenched in trepidation. )
No, you don't. Which is why it was so interesting that you offered in the first place. ( a playfully pitying look. ) That conscience weighing heavily on you, Damon? How does the whole unvampiring thing even work? You have a soul now?
[ he rolls his eyes, crosses his arms—not defensively, no, but dismissive. she's a child, and he's not impressed. ]
First of all, your version of vampires and mine, probably not all that similar. Second of all, I have no conscience, vampire or not. Third of all—a soul? What are you, Catholic?
[ he's supposed to be soothing ruffled feathers, convincing her he's not a threat, making friends with the hunter so that he can protect stefan... and yet damon is categorically incapable of not rising to some judgmental, holier-than-thou bullshit. ]
Thank you for pointing out, ( she pokes her fingers out, one, two, three. ) three ways I'm wrong, and clearing up absolutely nothing. Are you always this forthcoming, or am I just lucky?
( she springs up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. )
Why did you come here, if not to talk? You want some assurances? ( pointed, ) I'm the Slayer. I kill evil vampires. Evil. Vampires. I'm sure you know the type, and that you don't fall in the category anymore. I don't kill normal, annoying people, as much as I'd sometimes like to. You're safe. Want me to help you track down that maid? Because I have this women's intuition gut feeling she might not want to see you right now.
Y'know, I did come here to talk, but there's something about judgmental blondes that just, [ he swallows hard, like he's got something stuck in his throat, and then shrugs exaggeratedly, ] I just can't seem to get it down.
[ hello, second coming of caroline forbes, he did not miss you.
damon takes a step forward—slowly, not threatening, just coming further into her room to reinforce: he's here for conversation. he's sincere. if they can't come to an understand, it's not his fault. ]
If you're done posturing, we can have a civil conversation. You have questions about vampires in my neck of the woods, I can answer them. All you have to do is take the stick out of your ass and climb down off the high horse.
( eyes squinted, head tilted — searching for where, exactly, he gets his audacity from. the same store as spike, she's guessing. )
You bit a girl's throat out, and somehow I'm the one in the wrong? ( buffy isn't threatened. she stays where she's at, more confused than anything, a small shake to her head. different tells up close of the last few days she's had: bruising on her cheeks, a swollen lip, torn knuckles. a very old vampire bite hidden under the veil of her hair, at the side of her neck. ) I'm not going to pat your ass and tell you it's fine. It's not. If that means I have a stick up my ass, maybe you ought to figure out where yours went, instead of bothering me. I can just talk to your brother.
[ a suppressed smirk—you judgy little girls are all the same and all so predictable. ]
When did I say it was fine? Did I ask for pity?
[ please, point out to him where he has done anything but be slightly snarky back at someone who started it first. no, really, point it out to him, he's waiting. ]
( he'll get none of it from buffy, anyway. she doesn't look especially put out at being asked — he's already explained he doesn't have a conscience. you can know it's not fine, and still not care much. (key feature: how buffy feels about herself most of the time.) that, of course, is buffy's job. )
What do you want from me? I said I'd hear you out. Despite coming to me, you're trying to make it seem like I'm the one who wants to talk to you. So? Here I am, I'm asking. What's on your mind? Let me make your day.
Oh, [ he blinks, wide-eyed with feigned surprise, hand over his heart, he's so genuine about this, ] my bad, I thought you were the Slayer. Figured a vampire hunter might want to know what kind of vampires they're dealing with and what could make one go rabid, who to look out for, weaknesses to exploit...
Sorry for the mistake, [ no information for you, smarty-pants, he's leaving the room in three, two... ] I'll get out of your hair, see you around.
( honestly, she has no problem with that. she already got everything she needs to — it's more or else the enigmatic fact of damon that stops her from opening the door for him, eyes squinted, head tilted. )
And you'd tell me all that? Isn't your brother a vampire? ( she's just guessing on that front. his brother who apparently saved him from vampirism. maybe he hates him. maybe that's why he wants to tell buffy — to end him. doing his dirty work? it doesn't really logic out. ) I smell a catch.
[ seriously, so predictable—though her question does give damon pause. he's here as much on impulse as he is with any real plan, hadn't thought further than keep the hunter from being a problem. he tilts his head, considering how to answer, which of the various true responses would play best. after a moment he shrugs, arms out. ]
You know what we are. We can't get away from you. Safer to be on your good side than not, so whenever someone turns up with their carotid nibbled on you know it wasn't one of us.
[ that doesn't mean she's getting all the weaknesses, all the information he has to offer. but he can tell her the innocuous things, and learn about her vampires in the process. ]
( buffy gives him a smile — a genuine one, at least in how amused it is. if this is damon getting on her good side then he's really, really, talented at it. )
Trustworthy as I find you, I think I'll manage on my own.
( she steps over, opens the door, and gestures him out. )
[ he smirks, shrugs again—your loss, buffy, he was trying to help—and steps toward the door. ]
Let me know which monster you turn into after you meet Klaus, [ breezily, ] I'm sure you'll give him a great run for his money before he rips your throat out. See you at breakfast!
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you're serious?
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though, word on the street is that label doesn't fit anymore.
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[ mostly. these days. he's a work in progress, okay? ]
Being rabid on werewolf venom is different. I've never been one to turn down some violent hedonism, but if you'd ended up putting me down you'd have been right to.
[ we're not addressing the human elephant in the room, okay? ]
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i would've. if you weren't so fast.
( presumably, he is no longer that fast. so. )
alright. i'll accept your apology if you come over.
i want to see you for myself anyway.
text ➝ action;
[ but look, let's not get caught up debating ethics and practicality. a few minutes later, there comes a knock at the door to buffy's suite. ]
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in any case, she quietly takes a step back. a couple. it's a pointed motion, not inviting him inside, a test to know exactly what she's dealing with. )
Well?
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and yet there is the stake, and damon's never known a vampire hunter to act rationally. ]
Toss the stake and I'll come inside. Sharp and wooden's deadly no matter who you are.
[ a compromise, just to show her he's willing to play ball: he shifts his footing, purposefully stepping his foot halfway across her threshold. see, human enough to get past a threshold—but still vampire enough not to want to be in a room with a slayer with a stake in her hand. ]
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You know, I'd argue men are deadly no matter who you are, ( she hums, before plopping down on on the foot of her bed, leaning back. see? totally nonthreatening. except — ) but you're not. Not to me.
So?
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[ her room is—look, damon's best friend is a history teacher by day, vampire hunter by night, he's used to hunters looking nothing like you'd expect them to.
this is a bit more surreal of a disconnect than ric sitting in his classroom grading papers with stakes stashed in his bottom drawer, though. that's so much pink. ]
Been thinking about it on the way over here, and actually, [ he shrugs, disaffected, ] I don't owe you the apology, do I? Wasn't you I chowed down on.
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that said, a sassy vampire trying to be her friend is not really the most unlikely thing to happen to her, despite slayerism. buffy's mouth is instinctively pouty, expression instinctively drenched in trepidation. )
No, you don't. Which is why it was so interesting that you offered in the first place. ( a playfully pitying look. ) That conscience weighing heavily on you, Damon? How does the whole unvampiring thing even work? You have a soul now?
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[ he rolls his eyes, crosses his arms—not defensively, no, but dismissive. she's a child, and he's not impressed. ]
First of all, your version of vampires and mine, probably not all that similar. Second of all, I have no conscience, vampire or not. Third of all—a soul? What are you, Catholic?
[ he's supposed to be soothing ruffled feathers, convincing her he's not a threat, making friends with the hunter so that he can protect stefan... and yet damon is categorically incapable of not rising to some judgmental, holier-than-thou bullshit. ]
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( she springs up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. )
Why did you come here, if not to talk? You want some assurances? ( pointed, ) I'm the Slayer. I kill evil vampires. Evil. Vampires. I'm sure you know the type, and that you don't fall in the category anymore. I don't kill normal, annoying people, as much as I'd sometimes like to. You're safe. Want me to help you track down that maid? Because I have this women's intuition gut feeling she might not want to see you right now.
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[ hello, second coming of caroline forbes, he did not miss you.
damon takes a step forward—slowly, not threatening, just coming further into her room to reinforce: he's here for conversation. he's sincere. if they can't come to an understand, it's not his fault. ]
If you're done posturing, we can have a civil conversation. You have questions about vampires in my neck of the woods, I can answer them. All you have to do is take the stick out of your ass and climb down off the high horse.
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You bit a girl's throat out, and somehow I'm the one in the wrong? ( buffy isn't threatened. she stays where she's at, more confused than anything, a small shake to her head. different tells up close of the last few days she's had: bruising on her cheeks, a swollen lip, torn knuckles. a very old vampire bite hidden under the veil of her hair, at the side of her neck. ) I'm not going to pat your ass and tell you it's fine. It's not. If that means I have a stick up my ass, maybe you ought to figure out where yours went, instead of bothering me. I can just talk to your brother.
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When did I say it was fine? Did I ask for pity?
[ please, point out to him where he has done anything but be slightly snarky back at someone who started it first. no, really, point it out to him, he's waiting. ]
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( he'll get none of it from buffy, anyway. she doesn't look especially put out at being asked — he's already explained he doesn't have a conscience. you can know it's not fine, and still not care much. (key feature: how buffy feels about herself most of the time.) that, of course, is buffy's job. )
What do you want from me? I said I'd hear you out. Despite coming to me, you're trying to make it seem like I'm the one who wants to talk to you. So? Here I am, I'm asking. What's on your mind? Let me make your day.
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Sorry for the mistake, [ no information for you, smarty-pants, he's leaving the room in three, two... ] I'll get out of your hair, see you around.
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And you'd tell me all that? Isn't your brother a vampire? ( she's just guessing on that front. his brother who apparently saved him from vampirism. maybe he hates him. maybe that's why he wants to tell buffy — to end him. doing his dirty work? it doesn't really logic out. ) I smell a catch.
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You know what we are. We can't get away from you. Safer to be on your good side than not, so whenever someone turns up with their carotid nibbled on you know it wasn't one of us.
[ that doesn't mean she's getting all the weaknesses, all the information he has to offer. but he can tell her the innocuous things, and learn about her vampires in the process. ]
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Trustworthy as I find you, I think I'll manage on my own.
( she steps over, opens the door, and gestures him out. )
Thanks for stopping by, Damon.
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Let me know which monster you turn into after you meet Klaus, [ breezily, ] I'm sure you'll give him a great run for his money before he rips your throat out. See you at breakfast!
[ byeee! ]