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He didn't know who she was the first time they slept together. It was a bar, he was on edge, she was hot...and she had a strange sort of vulnerability to her that hit all the right buttons. Names weren't exactly a priority, either, not when they were in New Orleans, there was power everywhere, and dancing with her as the jukebox in the corner played got under his skin in a way few things had in over a year...
In the end, it seemed that fortune favored the bold because she wasn't human. He wasn't sure if she knew what he was, or if she could even tell he wasn't like her...
Derek hadn't met a vampire one on one just yet. He was still sorting out what they smelled like.
The second time, they traded first names. By then, he knew what vampires smelled like.
Per the agreement with Allison, he stuck close to Rebekah to make sure they knew what they were up against. It wasn't much more than a string of one night stands, but it meant she didn't really question it when he showed up out of nowhere. He was a tourist, the Quarter was popular...she didn't seem to suspect she was being followed around town.
And if she did, she sure as hell didn't mind enough to say no when they started to find themselves orbiting around each other again.
When he got the message from Allison about staying with the Mikaelsons, it presented a problem. It forced Derek to ease off a little, fade back a touch while he tried to figure out what to do about Rebekah. They were still on a first name basis, and she didn't seem to know who he was so Lydia must not have mentioned him. He knew Allison wouldn't...but then again, Allison didn't know he was a last name and a dinner invitation away from doing more than just fucking the littlest Original vampire.
He had to tell her. No sex, no dancing, no drinks: he just had to explain what was happening.
There was a bar in the quarter she frequented, not one of the dives they usually loved to carouse together, but a nicer place that served a mean martini. The bartender, a blonde named Cami, was someone her brother knew, so it seemed relatively safe to meet there rather than one of the holes that was more blatantly controlled by Marcel.
Finding a seat on the barstool beside her, Derek signaled the bartender for a beer before rolling his head to favor Rebekah with a small smile. She looked good tonight, a cosmo in hand and her hair an arrow-straight stream of gold down her back.
"You look like you could be meeting someone." he observed, unable to bite back a small smile. "Should I be jealous? Or is this a more permanent thing than fraternizing with the tourist trade?"
In the end, it seemed that fortune favored the bold because she wasn't human. He wasn't sure if she knew what he was, or if she could even tell he wasn't like her...
Derek hadn't met a vampire one on one just yet. He was still sorting out what they smelled like.
The second time, they traded first names. By then, he knew what vampires smelled like.
Per the agreement with Allison, he stuck close to Rebekah to make sure they knew what they were up against. It wasn't much more than a string of one night stands, but it meant she didn't really question it when he showed up out of nowhere. He was a tourist, the Quarter was popular...she didn't seem to suspect she was being followed around town.
And if she did, she sure as hell didn't mind enough to say no when they started to find themselves orbiting around each other again.
When he got the message from Allison about staying with the Mikaelsons, it presented a problem. It forced Derek to ease off a little, fade back a touch while he tried to figure out what to do about Rebekah. They were still on a first name basis, and she didn't seem to know who he was so Lydia must not have mentioned him. He knew Allison wouldn't...but then again, Allison didn't know he was a last name and a dinner invitation away from doing more than just fucking the littlest Original vampire.
He had to tell her. No sex, no dancing, no drinks: he just had to explain what was happening.
There was a bar in the quarter she frequented, not one of the dives they usually loved to carouse together, but a nicer place that served a mean martini. The bartender, a blonde named Cami, was someone her brother knew, so it seemed relatively safe to meet there rather than one of the holes that was more blatantly controlled by Marcel.
Finding a seat on the barstool beside her, Derek signaled the bartender for a beer before rolling his head to favor Rebekah with a small smile. She looked good tonight, a cosmo in hand and her hair an arrow-straight stream of gold down her back.
"You look like you could be meeting someone." he observed, unable to bite back a small smile. "Should I be jealous? Or is this a more permanent thing than fraternizing with the tourist trade?"
