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Ninety Eight Point Six

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“Hey, Amy? It’s 11 o’clock so I’m gonna take off- I promised Caroline and Elena I’d be at the Gilbert's house an hour ago so I’m most likely in a world of trouble- any chance you can lock up?”

The redhead looked up from the table she was cleaning, smiling “Yeah, Matt, that’s fine! I’m surprised we’re open this late anyway- everyone usually clears off before ten.” She shrugged, “but whatever, I’ll just close up once these two guys have gone” she turned to fix her emerald eyes towards the other end of the bar where the men were sitting. She’d picked up their names from the whispers of other patrons- Damon Salvatore and Alaric Saltzman.

“Thanks, Amy- you’re a lifesaver!” Matt called to her, shoving his jacket over his shoulders and half-running out of The Grill.

“Don’t speak too soon- you’ve yet to face the wrath of Caroline Forbes!” she jokingly called after him. Matt turned back towards her with a final grin, before disappearing into the night. Amy returned the smile as she went back to her task of scrubbing the red wine stain off the oak table before it absorbed and permanently marred the polished surface.

She heard the scrape of a bar stool across the floor and flicked her eyes up to see Alaric getting up from his seat, his empty glass on the bar, patting the shoulder of his companion as a parting gesture before walking towards the exit. He nodded goodbye to Amy, and she smiled briefly in return as he left through the same door as Matt had just minutes before.

Amy stood back to admire her handiwork on the table. It was better than before but it seemed as though the the surface would be left with blood-red stain after all. Hating the untidy appearance of having empty glasses left on the bar (it was a borderline OCD obsession of her’s), Amy wandered over towards the bar, dumping her ruined cloth in the bin on the way past and ducked underneath the lift-up panel of the bar. Damon was still sitting there, his glass still full from when she poured his last bourbon over half an hour ago. Amy quickly stuck Alaric’s glass in the washer and turned her attention to the last customer of the evening.

“Are you going to drink that, or can I?” she asked, smiling at him.

Damon lifted his gaze from the glass to meet her eyes, “threatening to take away a man’s alcohol could get you in serious trouble, young lady” he challenged her, a hint of menace in his glare.

“Ooh, you sound so serious.” she quipped back, mockingly. “Guess just have to pour one for myself.” She grabbed a glass from a nearby shelf and poured what was at least a triple measure of whiskey into it.

Damon looked from her glass and met Amy’s eyes once again, “are you sure you’re allowed to drink whilst on the job?” he questioned her.

“What’s the point of working behind a bar if you can’t sneak at least a drink or two in?” she replied, with a twinkle in her eye, “with the kind of colourful customers I get the pleasure of serving each day, alcohol is basically the only thing that keeps me sane. Besides, it’s just you and me in here buddy, so who’s going to tell my boss why we seem to keep running out of bourbon when apparently it’s just you and Alaric who drink the stuff?”

He smirked at the girl standing across the bar from him. They’d exchanged some meaningless small talk in the past when she’d taken his order but she seemed to have a decent sense of humour which surprised him.

“You know who Ric is?” he asked her, curious.

“Not particularly. Just his name and his drink order. I'm pretty sure he teaches history at the high school, and he’s your best friend”, Amy shrugged, “working at the only restaurant in town means I tend to pick up bits and pieces about people over time.”

“Fair enough”, he considered, taking a sip of his drink. “I take it by your Queen-like accent that you’ve not always lived in Mystic Falls, though. What was your name again? Amy?”

“Uh, no, I’m not a Mystic Falls native although I hear one of my great-great-grandparents lived somewhere vaguely near this area a couple of hundred years ago. I was born in Cornwall originally, on the south coast of England, before I moved out to live in London with a bunch of mates during uni. I needed a break from city living, so I did some adventuring. I’ve toured practically the whole globe in the last year, but lemme tell you, travelling gets expensive- hence why I’ve stayed put in Mystic Falls for the last couple of weeks. A girl has to eat somehow, so I got myself a regular income here, plus doing a few odd jobs in the local area so I can get back to my globetrotting.” She swirled the drink around in her glass.

“And as for my name,” she continued, sticking out her hand across the bar to shake Damon’s, “Amelia Diaboli, but my friends call me Amy.”

Damon took her hand in his, but rather than shaking it as she’d expected he instead placed a gentle kiss on the back of it, causing Amy to blush and a rush of blood to bloom across her porcelain complexion. “Amelia” he repeated, allowing for each letter to roll off his tongue, “A beautiful name for a stunning woman.”

“A charmer, are we?” Amy replied, “At least that’d explain why I seem to have seen half the town’s female population follow you out of those doors in these last couple of weeks alone.”

“Jealous?” he flirted.

“You’re certainly something of a mystery to me, Damon Salvatore. I know your name, I know your brother and your best friend, but other than that you seem practically immune to the whisperings of the local community.” She stood up and cornered the end of the bar, walking round to sit beside Damon, where Alaric had once sat. “But a tall, dark and handsome man such as yourself must have some sort of dark secrets I’m sure,” she moved her hand to rest it on Damon’s muscular thigh.

“Secrets? Me?” Damon asked, leaning in and placing his hand on top of Amy’s, “I’m an open book, baby”

“Well, I’d certainly like to get to know you better” she picked up her glass and knocked back the end of her bourbon. Standing up to place herself between his legs, she looped her arms around either side of Damon’s neck. “What if I were to finish locking up here, and invite you back to my place for a nightcap?”

“I think I like that idea.” He whispered in her ear, his whiskey-scented warm breath tingling across her neck. “I like it very much.”

Amy released Damon from her arms and turned around to grab the keys to the diner, as well as her leather jacket from the hooks behind the door to the kitchen. Turning off the lights in the bar and restaurant, the only light came from the lamps on the street outside. Glancing around in the semi-darkness she turned to see Damon watching her every movement with an almost predatory stare. She started to head towards the doors, swinging her hips slightly with every step she took, without a second look back she called out behind her, “you coming?”

“I'm right behind you,” came the whispered response. Amy lightly gasped at his silent approach, causing Damon to chuckle softly, she hadn’t realised how close he was to her.

Once outside, Damon lead her over to where he’d parked his vintage blue Camaro in a secluded corner of the car park underneath an overhanging tree. He leaned his back against the car and gestured Amy towards him. She obliged, the corner of her lips turning upwards into a slight smirk as she waltzed over towards him.

Damon grabbed her hips and pulled Amy closer to him, their bodies colliding as he leant down and claimed her lips in a ferocious kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lip as his tongue begged for entry. She allowed him to deepen the kiss, their tongues swirling. He tasted like liquor with a hint of something she couldn’t quite place.

Amy pulled back to regain her breath, her lips swollen from the bruising kiss. She looked up to his face to see spidery black veins forming underneath Damon’s eyes and a set of fangs descended from his gums. Her eyes widened at the sight, but Damon tightened his grip on her body.

He raised a finger to his lips to silence her. “Hush now, don’t scream”, his pupils contracting and dilating as he spoke to her, “I promise this will only hurt for a moment.” He brushed back the hair from her neck, his fangs hovering over her pulse point.

Amy had only a moment to react. “But this will probably hurt you quite a lot.” She pulled back from Damon’s grip and stuck the syringe she’d been hiding in her jacket into his leg and pushed swiftly down on the plunger. She watched as face contorted into a myriad of expressions; pain, anger, confusion.

His grip on her faltered as he started to fall out of consciousness. Amy quickly moved to catch him as he fell, and laid him down gently on the cold, damp, concrete next to his car.

“Vervain” he managed to choke out.

“Sorry, honey.” Amy replied, replacing the cap onto her needle and putting it back into her pocket. "It's nothing personal." She knelt down beside Damon’s body to kiss him gently on the cheek.

“Sweet dreams” was the last thing Damon heard, as his body was overtaken by the vervain and the poison rendered him unconscious.

Chapter Text

Damon awoke to the sound of muffled voices. It was dark and his muscles were cramped up from being in a confined space. He hissed upon realising that his hands and feet were bound with vervain soaked ropes. Figures. From the smell of metal and petrol, he guessed he must be in the boot of a car… his car. Oh the indignity.

Cracks of sunlight creeped in through gaps in the bodywork of the car, so he must’ve been out for quite a while considering it’d barely passed midnight when he’d followed that woman from the bar. He strained to hear what the voices were saying outside, from the sounds of things there were two women arguing. He recognised the first voice instantly from last night:

"No money, no vampire. That’s the deal we arranged. Pay me my money, and I’ll happily give you what you want, but until then there’s no way I’m just going to hand him over” Amy stated.

“We arranged payment upon delivery. I’ve no guarantee that he’s in there. Show me the goods and I’ll give you the money” came the response.

Was that Elena? Suddenly Damon’s blood turned to ice.


“Sorry, honey, but that’s not going to work for me.” Amy argued back, “pay me now, or I drive off into the sunset and don’t look back.”

There was a crash and the car rocked sideways, evidently Katherine had run out of patience. “You’re out of your depth, honey. I could kill you right here, right now, and just take him. I’m merely paying you out of courtesy. Give. Me. Damon.”

Damon shuffled around, trying to find something, anything, he could use to cut his ropes or escape from the car. He didn’t like the sound of how this meeting was going.

Meanwhile, outside the car, Amy had been shoved against the side of the Camaro. Her throat was being crushed by Katherine in her vice-like grip.

“Don’t underestimate me.” She retorted as threateningly as she could with her restricted air supply.

Katherine’s grip became impossibly tighter as she stared straight into Amy’s eyes, “I want you to give me Damon Salvatore, walk away, and forget we ever met."

Amy’s responded almost instantaneously, leaning forwards and spitting straight into Katherine’s face. “Go fuck yourself.”

Katherine started to scream as her face became red and blistered: “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“I drank a whole bottle of vervain water on the way over here- this is hardly my first day on the job. I’m guessing my saliva stings like a bitch, doesn’t it?” Amy smirked, walking over to the brunette vampire and crouching down next to where she was sitting on the floor with her face in her hands. “Now, I really didn’t want to do it like this…” she pulled a small carved wooden stake from her back jeans pocket, “but give me my money now and I’ll give you Damon.”

Katherine growled, but reached into her own jacket and tossed a thick roll of notes at Amy. “You’ve made yourself a powerful enemy today, bounty hunter.”

“Meh” Amy shrugged, standing up and counting out the money, “I’ll make a mental note to add you the list.”

Damon heard a pair of boots approaching the car, and sure enough, the boot of the car opened up and he was temporarily blinded by the sunshine pouring into the car after being in darkness for so long.

“Out you get, sweetie pie.” Amy spoke to him. He glared back, which earned him a snort of laughter from her, “please don’t try and be difficult.”

“You bitch.” He snapped at her, whilst awkwardly clambering out of the car- not an easy task with his limbs tied together and his muscles screaming in protest.

“Sorry if I hurt your feelings, honey, but business is business,” she happily responded, “but just for the record, you’re a pretty good kisser.” With Damon now out of the car, she slammed shut the boot, causing Damon to cringe at his baby being treated so roughly.

Money in hand, Amy turned to leave, nodding at the now-recovered Katherine who glared back at her. Addressing the pissed off vampire in a sing-song voice, “everything except a pretty red ribbon tied around his neck.” She mockingly curtsied towards her before turning towards the car. Calling over her shoulder: “it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Katherine!”

“What does she want with me?” Damon called after her, just as she opened the driver’s door.

She turned to face the- admittedly quite sexy- vampire, “How the hell should I know? I just deliver the target, get paid and leave. No questions asked. I’m a bounty hunter, not the Spanish Inquisition.”

She closed the door, buckled her seatbelt, turned the key, and let the Camaro’s engine purr into life. With a final glance into the rear mirror, she saw Katherine approaching a helpless bound-up Damon like a lion would stalk a gazelle.

Amy felt almost guilty for leaving him there with a somewhat unhinged Katherine Pierce, but hey, like she’d said to Damon; it wasn’t her place to ask questions. She just turned the radio up and used the music to drown out her thoughts.

Luckily for her, today was a Sunday so the Grill wouldn’t be open until 3pm giving her plenty of time to drive back into town and park up the Camaro in the space where Damon had left it last night so as not to raise any suspicions of her involvement in his mystery disappearance.

An hour later and a trip to McDonald’s for lunch on the way back, Amy had made it back to Mystic Falls. She donned a baseball cap she found in the glovebox to conceal her identity, and drove through the town until she reached the Mystic Grill. Parking up the car, she wiped down for fingerprints on the steering wheel, gear stick and door handles before stuffing the hat into her pocket.

A quick check of her phone indicated that she had twenty minutes before she needed to be working, so taking out the keys from her pocket, she let herself into the restaurant and went to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup that she’d not taken off from the previous day. She was still wearing her uniform from last night’s shift, so she just pulled her hair back into a ponytail to hide any oil and fixed her smudged eyeliner. With a final check in the mirror, Amy headed into the kitchen to make herself a bucketful of coffee- a caffeine high was the only way she was going to survive a six hour shift when she’d not slept for a day and a half.