Alaric nervously ran a hand through his hair, then mentally cursed himself and hoped he hadn't disrupted the "casually tousled" look he'd just spent twenty minutes perfecting. This was the first proper party he'd been to, well, since Isobel, and he wanted very much not to look like an idiot.
As he stepped through the doorway of the Lockwood mansion, the loud music and buzz of conversation gave him the immediate impression of a party in full swing. Alaric took a deep breath and was just preparing to charge into the fray when he felt someone brush up against him.
"You look hot tonight, Ric," purred an appreciative voice from just behind his right ear. "Better be careful - your students might start getting ideas." Of course it was Damon, Alaric thought with a small shake of his head, just...of course.
He was startled to discover that Damon's voice stirred something deep in the pit of his stomach - something wild and terribly familiar. Alaric instantly flashed back to his freshman year of college, back before Isobel, before he discovered his love of history, before his parents had made it very clear he was there to learn, not party. Through the haze of intoxication and memory, he saw fleeting images of rowdy frat parties, upstairs bedrooms with flimsy locks, and leather jackets and silk boxers thrown carelessly over bedposts.
The sensation of deja vu was so intense that Alaric had to actively suppress the sudden urge to casually inquire as to the number of upstairs bedrooms present in the Lockwood mansion. As he could envision no way of that ending well, he instead summoned up what was left of his self-control and pivoted to face Damon, whom he was surprised to find was mere inches away.
"Damon," he said in what he hoped was a cool, casual manner, "long time, no see. Staked anyone interesting lately?"
Damon's eyes flashed - Alaric was pretty sure from amusement rather than hostility - as he leaned forward to whisper, "Oh, no one anywhere near as good as you - there's really no need to feel threatened."
Before Alaric could think up an appropriately scathing rebuttal, he heard a pleasant female voice from behind his left shoulder. "Well, what are you boys being so secretive about?" Sheriff Forbes asked teasingly, apparently misreading their exchange as friendly chit-chat.
"Liz," Damon said brightly, pulling back and shifting his attention, and consequently his magnetism, from Alaric to the sheriff. "May I say you are looking ravishing this evening?"
"Oh, Damon," she said, laughing and hitting him lightly on the shoulder, "You are such a charmer."
Damon merely flashed her a wicked grin in response and continued, "And now, if you two will excuse me, I need to locate my brother before he makes a complete fool of himself on the dance floor." With that, he wound his way back into the crowd, although not without first throwing Alaric a somewhat mischievous glance back over his shoulder.
"Now, Alaric," Liz said, turning to him, "What's a nice-looking young man like yourself doing without a date for the evening?"
"Oh, well, you know," Alaric mumbled, trying to cover his embarrassment by grabbing a glass of punch off a nearby table and taking a sip. "I'm new in town, and I haven't really had a chance to meet anyone...like that...yet."
"You can't fool me, Alaric," Liz said, giving him a meaningful look, "I know that there's someone you've got your eye on at this very party."
Alaric choked on his punch. Liz, looking worried, gave him a couple hard pats on the back to clear his airway and added quickly, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about! Jenna is a lovely girl, and I think you two would be just perfect together!"
Alaric used the time it took to take a few deep breaths to hide his surprise, amusement, and relief at knowing Liz was distinctly on the wrong track. He purposefully plastered a look of bashfulness on his face as he asked, "Gosh, is it that obvious?"
"Well, maybe not to the layman, but remember, being observant is an important part of my job as sheriff. And if I can't pick up something as obvious as sexual tension, then I should just turn in my badge right now."
"Yes, I suppose so," Alaric couldn't help but agree.
"I mean, can you imagine the repercussions of this town having an unobservant sheriff? It would be utter chaos!" Liz let out a hearty laugh at the prospect, and Alaric joined her after pausing for a second to think, Yeah, that just about sums it up.
"But seriously, Ric, you should talk to the girl! Look at her, poor thing, Carol Lockwood's got her cornered over there by the mantle."
Before Alaric could stop her, Liz had lifted her hand in a friendly wave and called out, "Jenna! Yoo-hoo! Hey, honey, come and say hello!"
Alaric saw a look of relief and anticipation passed over Jenna's face as she caught sight of him, and could only watch with growing dread as she made her excuses to Carol Lockwood and wound her way through the crowd over to them.
"Hello, Liz," Jenna said with a smile, "You look so pretty tonight!"
"Thank you, honey, you're so sweet," Liz said, shooting a meaningful look at Alaric. "And talk about gorgeous, my God, that dress! Doesn't she look gorgeous, Ric?"
"Ravishing," Alaric said automatically, and had to suppress the urge to smack himself in the forehead when he realized he'd stolen Damon's' line.
Jenna blushed, and the way she was looking at him made Alaric feel guilty for not feeling the same. Well, he thought to himself, maybe if I tried...
"Ric, you bad boy," came an all-too familiar voice, "Keeping all the beautiful women to yourself over here." Damon slid himself between Liz and Jenna and draped an arm over each of them, though his gaze remained on Alaric.
"At least one of you two gorgeous creatures has to join me for a dance," Damon murmured persuasively.
"Oh, I am quite happy that my days of feeling obliged to dance at these things are over, thank you very much," Liz said with a laugh.
"How about you, Miss Sommers?" Damon turned his attention to Jenna.
"Well," she said hesitantly, her gaze drifting slowly toward Alaric, "all right."
Damon took Jenna by the hand and led her toward the increasingly drunken crowd of Mystic Falls denizens rocking out to "White Night" by the Postelles. Alaric watched, mesmerized, as Damon whirled Jenna around at speeds just bordering on supernaturally enabled.
Liz, entirely misinterpreting the source of his fascination, gave Alaric a light pat on the arm and said comfortingly, "I wouldn't worry too much about it. Just trying to make you jealous, I suspect."
Alaric nodded aimlessly, but his attention was entirely fixated on Damon, specifically the way his hips were swinging side to side in his tight black jeans. It was only a moment later that he actually registered what his companion had said. "Wait, jealous?"
"Trust me - the little show they're putting on? Definitely for you."
When Alaric looked back up at Damon, he was shocked to find the other man's eyes staring directly into his. Although Damon continued to gyrate around an apparently oblivious Jenna, he never tore his eyes from Alaric's. My God, Alaric thought, amazed, she's right. He's doing this for me.
As Liz continued to chatter about Jenna, Alaric found himself wishing he could be happy with a nice, normal girl like her - settle down, have a couple of kids, take it easy. And maybe if it weren't for immortal bad boys in tight black jeans, he'd have a shot at that longed-for normalcy. But as it was...
"Ric, can I give you a little friendly advice?" Liz asked, her voice slightly hesitant.
"Well, it's looking like I might need it," Alaric said truthfully, adding a little laugh. "Hit me."
Liz repositioned herself so she was between Alaric and the object of his attention, and Alaric forced himself to shift his gaze to meet her eye.
"The last guy I looked at like that ended up asking me to marry him a year later. And even though that didn't turn out so well in the end, I know that not taking a chance on him would have been the biggest mistake of my life."
Alaric felt strangely touched; Liz's information might be a little off, he thought, but her sentiments were still valid.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is...life is short; you don't want to miss out on something truly amazing just because you were scared of what would happen."
Alaric considered this for a moment, unable to stop himself from stealing another glance at Damon, whom he was perplexed to see was now dancing strangely provocatively with his brother.
"You know something, Liz," Alaric said, a grin spreading slowly over his face, "You are absolutely right. This could be something fantastic, and I think it's about time I stopped kidding myself and started doing something about it."