Damon and Dana, Backdated to September 23rd

[om_starbuck]

Dana looks into a part-time job. What is it with Damon Salvatore?

Dana smoothed her white v-neck sweater down, and double checked her black pants. She thought she looked alright, though one piece of hair kept escaping over her ear, forcing her to push it back into place. She tested the door to Evolution, and was relieved when it opened for her, despite the fact it was only three o'clock in the afternoon. Now that she was in, the next thing on her agenda was finding the proprietor.

For a moment, the place seemed empty, until Damon appeared through a door with a crate of glasses, headed for the bar. He noticed her immediately, raising a brow, lips quirking up on one side. "Well, you're not late."

She cocked an eyebrow, as though to ask if she was ever late (which of course she wasn't.) "Nice to see you too, Damon. How are you?"

"Look at you, being all polite," Damon drawled as he set the crate down. He eyed her curiously, then wiped his hands on a towel. "Does it matter how I am?"

"If it didn't, would I bother to ask?" She retorted dryly.

Damon gave her a look, then swung up to sit on a stool. "I'm fine, Gingersnap. What about yourself?"

It annoyed her, the way she'd started finding his stupid nicknames more endearing than annoying. Dana shoved that aside, mentally. She took the seat next to him, and said, "I'm alright. School started again." She might not always like school, but its consistency was something she relied on. Besides, she did well in school and it was always nice to do well.

"How are things going here at the bar?"

He rolled a shoulder. "You saw the opening. Business is good. Frankly, better than I'd thought it would be, and no one has tried to burn the place down yet."

The slightest twitch of her lip was the closest Dana came to acknowledging the gallows humor. "Is it doing well enough you could use some extra help?"

His eyebrows went up as he regarded her. "From you?"

She didn't even dignify that with a response, not even the the sarcastic remark about the illegality of slavery that his inquiry merited. Instead, her cool blue eyes met his own, and she just quirked an eyebrow and waited.

Damon's lips pulled up at one corner as he watched her, eyes dancing. The spark of fire in Scully was inspiring - the way she could stand up to him when grown men would cower. "What, X-Factor's too dull for you now? You and Rosen have a falling out?"

"You see shadows everywhere," Dana commented. She shrugged, and explained, "X-Factor doesn't take up as much time, now that it is only involved in research. I thought it might be nice to earn a little extra money."

He hummed noncommittally, looking her over. "Well you're too young to bartend, and you're definitely not a bouncer, or a DJ."

"You've never seen me fight," she pointed out. Not that he was wrong - she had no desire to be a bouncer - but it seemed worth saying.

He snorted. "Don't get your dander up. Combat skills notwithstanding, you're not a bouncer. Not one I want in my place, anyway." Damon thought for a moment, lips pursing. "The girls could use a barback, though."

Dana wished she could say she knew exactly what that entailed, just to throw him off his game (she loved when she surprised him, for some reason). She couldn't, though, and she didn't think she had the background knowledge to fake it. "What would that entail?"

Damon smirked lightly, then reached over to lay a hand on the crate of glasses. "Restocking the bar, both bottles and glassware. Keeping the kegs in order downstairs and making sure the lines are ready. And, if you want, you can keep inventory for me, because it's a huge pain in the ass. You'd probably be a runner for the bartenders if they need anything, too."

She was silent for a minute as she thought that over. Finally, she nodded. "I could do that." She'd ask about pay eventually, but she thought she knew Damon well enough to be assured he wouldn't rip her off. "When do you want me to start?"

He waved a hand, like that wasn't the important part. "How many days a week you gonna be able to make it down here?"

Dana quirked an eyebrow. "How many days a week do you want me here?"

Damon twitched a slightly lecherous smile at her.

She blushed, hoping he'd just think it was in annoyance rather than anything else. "Use your words," Dana said, hoping her voice was as dry as she'd meant it to be.

Rolling his eyes, Damon sighed at her. "To be honest, I'd have you here every day if you could, but that's unrealistic with the commute."

Well, that was true. Especially with her schoolwork and research at Oscorp. Since Oscorp was in the city too, though, maybe she could consolidate. "I'm at Oscorp on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and part of Saturday," she offered. "I could come here afterwards."

He raised a brow at that. Oscorp, huh? That was something to keep in mind. In the meantime, he pushed off the stool. "Good. You start on Saturday. Talk to Lil and Noriko about the dress code."

"That will be easier than you just telling me?" She asked, voice actually a touch teasing.

"Yeah, because it seems kind of sexist for me to pick out your wardrobe," Damon shrugged, moving around behind the bar to start putting the glasses away. "The girls'll help you pick something out that fits with the theme."

Well, she had to concede that particular point. Dana slid off the stool, and headed around the bar. She was here anyway, she might as well help. "I'll ask them."

He watched her, amused, and resisted the urge to either cuddle her to his side or tuck that one strand of hair behind her ear. Just when he'd gotten so attached to the gingersnap, he didn't know, and it probably wasn't healthy at all, but at least he had more help around the place, and that was all he could ask.