[This was supposed to be a MERRY CHRISTMAS, RIZZY fic, but uh. Obviously it’s not Christmas. I’M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. Set in beyondtherift, mordere is used with permission and love, and … forward dated for this Christmas? Yeah. Let’s do that.]

There’s egg nog.

There’s very, very strong egg nog.

Bela is giggling. That should tell you how strong the egg nog is.

The room swirls a bit as her hand comes back to land on Damon’s shoulder, and she can feel the way her feet are wobbling in her clearly impractical shoes. He starts to swing her around again in time to the music, and she pushes at his shoulder to get him to stop. “Wait—wait.”

He stops, and she pauses to try and wrestle her heels off her feet. It takes a little longer than it should, and Damon’s lips drop to her ear as his arm snakes around her waist. It’s very distracting. She pinches his shoulder a bit with the hand still resting there.

“You are not helping.”

“You are taking too long.” His lips nip at her neck, and she giggles again, before pushing him away a little more.

“Still not helping,” she says pointedly, fixing him with as much of a look as she can in this state. She manages to kick off one of them, before starting to work on the other. He sighs heavily.

“Why do you even wear those things anyway?”

“Several reasons,” she sighs. “One, they make my legs look fantastic.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Two, they make me taller than you.”

“Hey. Now that’s just mean.”

The second shoe comes off and gets tossed to the side, and her feet settle on the cool of the floor. “There. Much better.” Damon’s arm snakes around her waist again, pulling her close and moving in time to the music, but heading back towards the stereo.

“Now, you took so long, so we’re going to have to start the song all over again.”

“Oh, the horror,” she smirks, letting him restart the song, before spinning her around and pulling her in close again. “I don’t know how we’ll ever make it.”

He chuckles, and she can feel the way it rumbles up from his chest. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

They shut down the club for the night, for absolutely no reason other than the fact that they wanted the dance floor to themselves. Bela’s never really been one for Christmas as a general rule. The holiday is too centered in family and tradition for her to really enjoy it, but this—this she might be able to come around to.

Regardless, there is egg nog, and there is dancing, and she’s is dangerously close to being in a very good mood. That’s obviously something to be celebrated, even if it isn’t specifically Christmas. She leans into him a little more, her fingers brushing against the back of his neck as they sway in time to the music.

“You’re very good at this.”

“I am a man of many talents,” he smirks. “It helps that where I grew up was fond of dances and balls.”

“So you’ve had a lot of practice, then.”

“Tons. I could show you some fantastic moves.”

“Really?” She steps back a bit, putting a little space between them and giving him an expectant look. “I’m ready to be impressed.”

“Is that a challenge, Ms. Talbot?”

“You tell me, Mr. Salvatore.” She smirks. “Just don’t step on my feet.”

“Please, who do you think I am?” He moves out away from her, before leading her through a series of complicated dance moves, that end with her dipped to the side and Damon’s arms around her. “I am way smoother than that.”

She grins. She can’t help it. “I stand corrected.”

He grins back at her, slowly leaning in closer. “As I said. I have fantastic moves.” He continues to lean in closer, when there’s the sound of someone’s throat clearing from the other side of the room. The two of them both look up, and Damon’s face goes from amused to annoyed. “We’re closed, Stefan.”

“Sorry.” Stefan holds up his hands, an amused look on his face. “The door was open.”

“The door was locked.”

“I’m pretty sure it was open—”

Bela straightens a bit, landing more solidly on her feet before looking between them. “If you boys are going to squabble, I’m going to go get myself another drink.”

“Don’t go anywhere. Stefan was just leaving.”

“I was?” There is a pointed look from Damon, and Stefan meets it for a moment, before nodding. “Right. I was. Even if I just got here.”

“Goodbye, Stefan.”

Stefan chuckles a bit, before turning and heading out the door. “Merry Christmas, you too.”

“Goodnight, Stefan.” She waits for him to disappear out the door, before starting to walk towards where they left the egg nog. “Well. He certainly knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

His hand catches her wrist and he pulls her back in slowly. “What is with you continually underestimating me tonight?”

“Maybe I like it when you get to impress me,” she teases, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt once he gets close enough. “Would you prefer that I just fed your ego by telling you how wonderful you are all the time?”

“Yes. That is exactly what I’d prefer.”

She laughs, before her fingers trail down to the top button of his shirt. “Well. Are you prepared to impress me some more then?”

He grins, speaking softly before he leans in to kiss her. “I do like a challenge.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”



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