Fluid Rounds pt.3 (R-18)

As the sun dipped below the horizon, streaking the sky with shades of amber and violet, the hum of youthful energy was alive and well inside Bree's bar. For Tom, Damon, and Elena, this was a night to forget their worries—problems could wait until tomorrow. Tonight was theirs.

"Shot!" Elena exclaimed, slamming her glass down on the bar, her throat burning as the fiery liquid went down.

"Whoo!" Tom cheered, raising his own glass in salute to her audacity.

Elena smirked and turned to Damon, whose chin glistened with spilled liquor. "Do you need a bib?"

Damon rolled his eyes, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "Sorry I can't unhinge my jaw like you, champ."

"All I hear is excuses!" Tom declared, leaning back with a grin.

Then, as if remembering something, Tom squinted at Elena. "Hey, what time is it?"

Elena checked her phone. "Just past six."

Tom stood up abruptly, slapping the counter. "Bree!"

From behind the bar, Bree looked up.

"Four fireballs!" he called out, pointing a finger. "Have them ready for me when I get back."

Bree gave a thumbs-up, already pulling the glasses.

Tom stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. By the car, he spotted Vicki, leaning against the door.

"When'd you get up?" he asked, walking over.

Vicki practically leapt to his side, grinning. "When I heard Elena shouting at Stefan. Felt like the perfect time to join the party."

Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand, tugging him back toward the bar.

Inside, Vicki's smile stretched wide as her eyes adjusted to the dim glow of neon lights. It was her first time out of the house in what felt like forever, and the excitement showed. She followed Tom to the bar, sitting beside him at the far end, opposite Elena. Bree lined up the drinks Tom had ordered.

Tom handed them out, raising his own glass. "A little toast," he announced.

"Nope," Damon said flatly, though Elena laughed and raised her glass in mock defiance.

"Come on," Tom urged, glancing around the table, even roping Bree into his gaze. "To a memorable night with friends. Salute!"

They all raised their glasses and downed the drinks. Faces twisted in unison as the bitter fire hit their throats.

Vicki leaned toward Tom, lowering her voice. "What about that thing?"

Tom looked at her, his expression softening. "I'm working on it. But for now? Try and enjoy yourself. You deserve this."

Vicki hesitated, then nodded. Pushing back from the table, she made her way to the jukebox at the end of the hall. She fished a quarter from her pocket, slid it into the slot, and picked a song.

As the first notes played, Tom turned back toward the bar for another drink.

["Feeling Good" by Micheal Bublé starts playing.]

When he turned back around, Vicki was mouthing the words, her gaze locked on his.

"Birds flying high," she lip-synced, her smile teasing. "You know how I feel."

Tom shook his head, but she didn't stop, swaying slightly to the music.

"Sun in the sky," she mouthed, moving toward him. "You know how I feel."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as she nodded at him, daring him to join her.

"Breeze driftin' on by…" Her hand extended toward his. "You know how I feel."

"Please?" she whispered aloud, her tone soft.

Tom scoffed, unable to keep the grin off his face. "It's a new dawn," he sang softly, grabbing her hand. "It's a new day, it's a new life… for me."

She laughed, letting him lead her onto the open floor. He spun her once, pulling her close, and they swayed together as the chorus built.

"And I'm feeling good… I'm feeling good."

They both laughed, the moment breaking into something warm and light as they continued to dance.

From the bar, Damon looked at Elena, lifting an eyebrow. "Wanna dance?"

Elena shook her head, still smiling.

"Yeah, me neither," Damon muttered, downing the rest of his drink.

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After that one dance, Tommy retired to drinking. He nursed a whiskey at the bar, tracing the rim of the glass with his thumb as the music thumped behind him. Vicki, though, was just getting started. Laughing, hair wild, and heels clicking against the floor, she twirled with a burly boy who looked barely old enough to drink but broad enough to make her look delicate in his arms.

"Sure that's a good idea?" a voice called out nearby.

Tommy glanced over his shoulder to find a blonde woman standing a few feet away. She wore a floral blouse tucked into faded jeans, her posture casual but her gaze anything but. She studied him with a kind of quiet confidence, like she already knew the answer to the question she'd just asked.

"Depends," Tommy said, turning back to his glass. "What're we talking about?"

"Your friend," she said, nodding toward Vicki. "And that kid she's dancing with. He's following her around like a stray dog."

Tommy smirked and swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "She likes strays. Says they're loyal."

"And you're okay with that?"

"She's a grown up," Tommy replied. "Not my job to play babysitter."

The woman raised an eyebrow, then stepped closer, resting her elbow on the bar. "Doesn't stop you from watching her every five seconds."

He glanced at her, finally taking her in. Her blonde hair fell in loose curls, framing a face that didn't seem meant for a place like this—clean, fresh, a little too bright for a dimly lit bar. "You always this nosy?"

"Only when someone catches my attention," she replied, tilting her head. "Haven't seen you around here before."

"That's because I haven't been here before," he said. "Just passing through."

"A drifter, huh?"

He nodded. "Something like that. And you? You a local?"

"For now." She shrugged. "I'm a nurse. Came here a few months ago for work."

"A nurse?" Tommy smirked. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why you can't stop analyzing everyone in the room. You're trying to diagnose me already, aren't you?"

She laughed, a soft sound that cut through the noise of the bar. "I wouldn't waste my time. Guys like you are textbook."

"Yeah? What's the diagnosis?"

She leaned in slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Restless. Charming enough to get away with it. Probably leaves before anyone can get too close."

Tommy raised his glass in a mock toast. "Not bad."

She watched him for a moment, then said, "So why are you here?"

"Drifting," he said simply. "And you?"

"Trying to forget about work for a few hours," she replied. "Not that it's working."

"Yeah, I can see that," he said, nodding toward her. "You look like you're waiting for someone to screw up so you can swoop in and fix it."

"And you look like someone who screws up just to see what happens," she shot back.

Tommy chuckled, leaning a little closer. "You don't seem like the type to hang out in places like this."

"Neither do you," she countered, her gaze steady.

They held each other's eyes for a moment, the air between them charged. Then Olivia's gaze flicked down to his glass. "You finished that drink, and you're still here. What's stopping you from drifting?"

"Maybe I found a reason to stick around," he said, his voice low.

She blinked, then let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "You're trouble."

"Never claimed otherwise," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

Olivia bit her bottom lip, hesitating for just a second before leaning closer, close enough for him to catch the faint scent of lavender. "You're gonna make me regret this, aren't you?"

"Probably," Tommy said, his voice dropping, his grin turning wolfish.

They didn't say anything after that. The music pounded, the lights dimmed, and the noise of the bar faded into the background as the tension between them boiled over. Olivia reached out first, her hand curling around his shirt as she pulled him toward her.

"Come on," she murmured, her breath warm against his ear.

Tommy didn't need to be told twice. He followed her lead as she turned, weaving through the crowd and toward the hallway that led to the restrooms. He caught a glimpse of Vicki laughing with the burly boy in the corner, but his mind was already elsewhere.

The door to the single-stall restroom clicked shut behind them, cutting off the noise of the bar. For a moment, they just stood there, the tension hanging thick in the air. Then Olivia stepped forward, her hands finding the collar of his shirt again as his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I knew you were trouble," she muttered, her voice low.

Tommy just grinned. "And you still let me in."

She pounced on Tommy like a pound of flesh, her lips quivered and Tommy took them, a moan escaped her throat but died in her mouth. They banged around the stall making noise. Her hands pulled on his hair like the main of a stallion.

He kissed her neck as they dropped their jeans and they were making haste as though time itself was about to end. He picked her up and kissed her as she giggled. She gasped at the moment they met. "Damn." She bit her lips.

Tom smiled and said, "Damn in deed." Tom started to move and they both were enjoying themselves. They heard the door open with the voice of a girl giggling, they walked into the stall next to them. Olivia bit down on her shoulder to quite herself.

Tom looked at her and got even more excited as he shook his hips with force. He grabbed her face and said, "Let me help." He kissed her deeply making her legs tingle. But it all stopped all of a sudden. She looked down to the floor and there was blood and a lot of it.

Tom stopped and asked, "What happened?"

She pointed below and there was blood and Tom, titled his head, "Are we in the women's room?"

A familiar voice replied, "Tom?" She was looking at him from above the stall wall. Vicki's face was smothered with Blood.

Olivia looked at it them, "What the hell is going on?!"

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