Author's Note: Ok, I doubt anyone is going to be as excited about this story as I am, but it's literally been all I have thinking about for last week. It was a small idea that took hold in my brain and now it wants to be this big, multi-chaptered story. I've never successfully completed a full series with a steady plotline, but I'm determined to make this one my first. When I was first writing this, I wasn't expecting this story to be as big as it now is in my mind, so this chapter is going to seem light compared to the others, I imagine. Not that my chapters are going to be super long, but they're going to have more substance and the timeline will be a lot more clear. I'm super excited to write for Stefan, Damon, and Bonnie, but I'm secretly dreading writing Alaric and Elena in future chapters. Writing for those two is not my forte. This is be a very interesting journey for me as a fanfic writer, so I hope you all enjoy!

I know I haven't updated my other stuff yet, but I will. I've been working on those too, but this story would NOT let me do anything else. I also want to mention again that I cannot properly express my gratitude toward the people who have already reviewed my stuff and those who will (hopefully) review my stories in the future. You've all been so wonderful and helpful. You're all amazing, sincerely. Thank you so much. I really hope you guys like this! As always, I own nothing of Vampire Diaries.

If you'll be good to me,
I'll be good to you.
I'm amidst.
I could be the best decision you ever made, a beacon, your peaceful corner.

- Neglected Space by Imogen Heap

Bonnie had a certain gait about her. Her steps were always quick, hurried, and a bit frustrated- at least, that's how they always sounded when she was walking toward him.

She also smelled differently. Her blood, that is. Witch's blood has a poignant aroma about it, threatening in its power. It was as if the very smell of her blood was a defense against vampires. A weak defense, but one just the same. When he had tasted her blood ages ago (because it definitely seemed like ages, even though time often passed by like blinks to him), it had been bitter, leaving an acrid aftertaste that he had immediately wanted to spit out. Another defense.

That was Bonnie Bennett for you. All defenses up, all the time, even the ones that she didn't even know about. The girl was like a walking Fort Knox.

And she was at his doorstep. He had heard, smelt, and sensed her coming for some time now, so he opened the door just as she was about to knock. She did not like that, he noted with a grin. She never liked being predictable to him. With a scowl, she addressed him.

"Is Stefan home?" she asked, trying to peer around his shoulder. Clearly, she was impatient and had no intention of talking to him.

Perfect.

"Nope. He's at Elena's. To what do I owe this cheery visit?" he asked, smiling toothily, exaggerating a faux-friendly demeanor. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Is he really not here?"

"Bonnie, would I lie to you?" They took a moment to consider that, leading Damon to grin knowingly. "Don't answer that. Come in and see yourself if you don't believe me."

He stepped aside just in time, for she was going to stride inside with or without him in the way. Today she was looking particularly determined, but unhappily so. Like she had made a decision that she didn't like. Damon watched her as she did a cursory search for Stefan, waiting until she realized he was, in fact, gone. She was wearing a light brown overcoat with the collar turned out, exposing her neck to the cold and his wandering eye. He always noticed that she never wore anything overly conservative around him, even though most people were often subconsciously traumatized after a vampire bite and covered up most of their skin to compensate. With Bonnie, it didn't seem to faze her.

"Stefan?" she called as she stood in the center of the living room, looking around in mild desperation. When no one replied to her, her shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"Looks like you're stuck with me. What can your friendly neighborhood vampire do for you?" he asked, crossing his arms in a business-like fashion, but a smirk playing on his lips. Bonnie hesitated, then seemed to examine him for authenticity. She can be incredibly scrutinizing when she wanted to be, and Damon had to resist the urge to move to break her gaze.

After several moments of her consideration, she gave herself a slight nod, as if for reassurance, and looked Damon in the eye.

"You two have a lot of history in this mansion. A lot of old books, relics, and tools. You even have your own collection of herbs like vervain," she began, and Damon knit his brow in confusion. He didn't see where she was going with this. She moved away from him, gesturing to the room around them. "I bet in this room alone, you have artifacts from the very founding of the Mystic Falls."

"We do," Damon agreed, following her. "But what do you want with it?"

She pivoted on her heel to face him, her eyes stern. He knew that look. It was the look that meant she was about to ask something from him. It was so interesting to witness because there was need, regret, anger, yet a very clear dependency in that look. She hated asking for help, especially from him, but she would not ask if she did not feel it absolutely necessary.

"Witchcraft involves items of power, but things don't get power unless they have history. There's a lot of history here," she repeated, gesturing again, but not looking away from him. "There's also a lot of knowledge about how that history became powerful, and how that can be used in my craft. You have the supplies and instruments to build the framework for spells, even." She took a breath, settling her weight on her back foot. "Basically, this mansion is every witches' dream house. And I want to take advantage of it."

Made sense. No witch before Bonnie had been on good terms with the Salvatore brothers since they became vampires, and thus all of the mansion's valuable knowledge and resources had never been used for magic. Being around such powerful supernatural beings had probably only reinforced its significance. Since Bonnie was (somewhat) their ally, it was only sensible that she want to benefit from that (probably temporary) cooperation by exploring their home and its secrets.

Completely understandable.

He was still going to be annoying as hell about it, though. Which was probably why she had wanted to talk to Stefan.

"So, you're telling me that you want to ransack our humble abode for your own selfish, witchy needs?" he asked, tapping her on the nose with an index finger. She jerked her head back, frowning.

"It's not selfish. The better I get at being a witch, the safer we all are."

Damon's eye widened in fake realization as he snapped his fingers, like he had missed something obvious.

"Oh, right, I forgot you're the only one protecting the town."

"Damon," she said through gritted teeth, "could you not be an intolerable jerk for like five seconds and let me do this? It hasn't been easy for me to ask, believe me. But since my grandmother died, I need all the help I can get in strengthening my powers."

Well. That shot of guilt was aimed directly at him, and while Damon was not one to succumb to his conscience often, he could not help but feel something within him cringe. Her grandmother's death had been sort of his fault, back when his obsession with Katherine made him into a soulless prick. He supposed that since he had changed a lot since then, it was only natural that his past actions- having been once enacted without a second thought- came back to haunt him.

Especially when Bonnie made them haunt him.

"You had to pull the 'dead grandmother' card," Damon muttered, mostly to himself, but a hot glare from Bonnie told him she heard it too. "I guess I can allow you to poke around, since I'm so generous."

"Yeah, you're the epitome of charity," Bonnie said with a smirk. And, suddenly, an idea struck him with such force he thought he was going to stumble. It took only a second for the inspiration to take form. The best idea I've ever had.

"But under one condition."

Bonnie's expression instantly darkened.

"I think that makes it the opposite of charity, Damon, if you're asking for something in exchange."

"It's not Christmas yet, Bonnie," he returned, saying her name with mock affection, as if they were just having a playful conversation. "I can't be handing out favors for every witch that comes to my doorstep. Not all of them are as fun as you."

"Fine, whatever. What do you want?"

Damon's smile was too wide, he knew. But he couldn't help it. He was giddy with excitement over what was about to happen.

"You, Bonnie Bennet, have to be nice to me while you're here."

That stumped her entirely. Her jaw fell slack, and shock shone clearly in her eyes.

"I…what?"

"You have to be nice. To me."

He let this sink in. Bonnie seemed dumbstruck, opening and closing her mouth several times before being able to form actual words.

"Nice? You want me to be…nice?"

"Yup. No aneurysm tricks, no witty barbs, not even a withering look. I'm doing you a big service here, letting you manipulate priceless objects of the Salvatore family. I expect something worthwhile in return."

He was careful to tinge his words with a serious inflection, so she knew that while this was a humorous request, it was one he was intending to uphold. Bonnie seemed to detect this, for she regarded him anew, the sense of a challenge making her confident.

"Fine. I can do that," she stated, nodding. Then the corner of her mouth tugged up into a lighter expression, different than what he usually saw from her. "I'm normally a nice person, Damon. I'm just mean around you."

"Lucky me," Damon said, returning the smile with a softer one of his own. He held out his hand. "So, do we have a deal, witch?"

Bonnie reached, but Damon pulled his hand back and left it poised in the air. He tilted his head doubtfully.

"You sure you can do this? In all the time that we've known each other, we've never really exchanged kind words," he pointed out. There had been only a few moments where they had been unexpectedly pleasant to each other at the time, but those were so rare that they hardly counted.

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Please, Damon. Of all the crap you've put me through, this is probably one of the least difficult to manage."

"Suit yourself," Damon said, grasping her palm in his. Her hand was warm and soft, not what he expected, but her handshake was firm and self-assured. He went to release her, but she held fast, surprising him.

"Thank you," she told him, the honesty forcing itself to become apparent, in spite of herself. "I really do appreciate this."

She let go, giving him one last look before turning to head down the hallway, as if she already had a destination in mind (which she probably did). Damon watched her turn the corner.

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered, smirking to himself.

He had to strategize carefully, but languidly. If he acted too fast, he would scare Bonnie off too soon. Damon had already caught on- a full exploitation of all of the Salvatore resources would take well more than a day. She would be returning regularly, giving him ample opportunity to intrude on her research. After all, he had spent decades doing many things to stave off immortal boredom, but one of the most entertaining activities he had ever participated in was engaging Bonnie in heated conversation. It was always rewarding, in one way or another. Besides, he found himself actually curious as to the extent of her powers. It would be intriguing and useful to witness her work.

But he couldn't just jump at the chance to bother her already. Better to lull her into a false sense of peace and security, let her think there was a truce between them when there probably never could be, not truly. Absently, he thought about how they would somehow always be at war.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It kept them both strong and alert.

"Bonnie's here?" called a voice from behind him. Damon had been so wrapped in his thoughts, he had not even heard Stefan come in. He turned away from the thriving fireplace, facing his brother.

"Yup. She's raiding the mansion for all it's worth. I told her you'd be against it, but she just went ahead and started tearing the place apart."

"Oh, shut up, Damon!" Bonnie called from the floor above, having been near the staircase, where Damon knew she would hear him. He smirked, merely shrugging at a still baffled Stefan as Bonnie hastily made her way down the stairs. She approached the pair, waving.

"Hey, Stefan," she greeted, smiling genially. Damon wondered, briefly, what it would be like to have a normal friendship with Bonnie like Stefan did. He mentally scoffed at the notion.

It'd be as boring as hell.

"Hello, Bonnie. Not that I mind, but why are you over so late?"

"I tried to find you earlier, but you were at Elena's and Damon was the only one here," she said, and Stefan inclined his head sympathetically, as if he felt her pain of being stuck with Damon. "I talked to him about this, but of course I wanted to run it by you, too. I want to use the mansion for my magical research. It has a lot of the tools and books that I need, and since I've had some free time recently, I wanted to hone my skills. Reach my potential as a witch." Her smile was sheepish now, and she had her hands clasped together hesitantly. "Is that alright?"

"Of course it is," he said, nodding. "You're welcome here any time, Bonnie. Practicing your craft is important. I hope Damon hasn't troubled you while you're working?"

"No, he's been surprisingly good at giving me space," Bonnie said, grateful surprise in her voice.

Damon was beginning to feel the itch of agitation; it was like he wasn't even in the room, the way they were going on about him.

"It's because we worked out a little agreement," he piped up, walking toward them. Finally, they both looked at him, as if he had just entered the room. "Bonnie here has to be on her best behavior while she's using all of our stuff. Speaking of which," he drawled, rounding on Bonnie. "telling me to 'shut up' wasn't very nice, you know."

Bonnie looked startled, like she hadn't expected him to remember their deal. Recovering quickly, she shook her head.

"Force of habit," she confessed with an apologetic shrug. That will do for now, Damon thought, but she won't get off that easy next time.

"Wait," Stefan said, looking incredulous at the implications. "so you agreed to be nice to him?" He gestured between Bonnie and Damon. The former eyed him with confusion.

"Yes, I did. I don't see why everyone thinks I can't be nice."

Stefan merely pressed his lips together, holding up his hands in concession. "Good luck with that, Bonnie. Just keep in mind I tried to just be civil with Damon for the better part of a century."

"And now we're closer than ever," Damon said cheerfully, punching his brother on the arm, a bit too hard. Stefan gave him a look, then raised his eyebrows at Bonnie in a 'See what I mean?' gesture.

"I can handle it," Bonnie assured him with a smile, looking to Damon as if he was going to contradict her. He just shrugged harmlessly.

"If you say so," Stefan said, amused, but Damon could see the hint of worry etched into the faint lines of his forehead. To anyone else, it would have been invisible. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I actually just finished up," Bonnie said happily, enthused by her day's findings. She turned and walked to a small table near the entrance where a stack of three books sat, picking them up. "I'm just going to read these tonight and come back tomorrow for-…"

She was interrupted by Damon using his inhuman speed to cut her off at the door. Half stumbling into him, she pulled back and frowned. He jerked his head in Stefan's direction, for he knew what his brother was about to say.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Bonnie, you can't take those out of the house," Stefan told her, still in the living room. She whirled around, unable to hide her annoyance. "We don't let our more historic property leave here. We can't protect it as well once it's out of the mansion, and some things are very valuable. We can't afford to let it fall into the wrong hands."

"I can protect a couple of books," Bonnie insisted, clearly insulted at the insinuation that she could not be trusted with their things.

"Don't take it personally," Damon said, making her direct a glare at him. His smile only grew wider. "Mystic Falls can be a spooky place. We don't want you getting mugged by some hooligan."

"You think I would let myself get mugged?" she asked, holding the books in one arm and placing her free hand on her hip, quirking a brow as if daring Damon to answer in the affirmative. He opened his mouth to offer a smart-aleck reply, but Stefan interjected, now at Bonnie's side.

"Damon's right. Please don't take this personally. You're a very powerful witch, but there are ancient supernatural beings out there that would do anything to gain any secrets about us. They would attack you without hesitation and without mercy. We can't put you in that kind of danger."

Bonnie stared at him, seeming to understand but unable to wipe the look of disbelief from her face. She glanced to Damon, who shrugged, but he met her gaze. He would never openly admit it, but he agreed with Stefan. It wasn't that the books were worth much to them, it was that Bonnie's life would be threatened immediately if she walked out their stronghold with some of their most priceless possessions. She wouldn't last an hour.

However, Bonnie seemed concerned about something else.

"But…" she faltered, looking down at the books, and then back up at Damon with the look of someone who suddenly discovered something awful about their circumstances. "A lot of my spells have to be conducted in the middle of the night, and they can take several hours to prepare…"

"You can stay the night, if you'd like. You can take all the time you need," Stefan offered, sounding unsure of what the issue was. Bonnie's eyes did not leave Damon's.

She's figuring it out now, he thought, a smirk spreading across his face. This means she's going to be spending a lot of time here.

"This will be fun," Damon informed her gleefully. "We can have a-..what do you girls call them? Oh, right. Slumber parties." He feigned inspiration and pointed toward the upstairs. "I think we have some sleeping bags in the attic."

Gradually, Bonnie's horrified realization had turned to bitter resolution. With a sigh, she shoved her books into his chest so he had to take them.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she mumbled, pushing past a much too pleased Damon. As she walked out, he held open the door.

"Don't forget our deal, roomie!" he shouted after her. The statement and nickname made her freeze momentarily, but she refused to look back at him. Instead, she quickened her pace. He watched her, satisfied, until she turned down the street, and he moved back to let Stefan close the door. He felt his brother casting him a wary look, but he turned around curtly and made his way up to his room. He didn't want a lecture right then.

Besides, there was a lot of preparing to do.