Just Once (Bamon One Shot)

By V.C. Turner

Bonnie climbed the steps to her grandmother's house, not looking around before placing the key in the deadbolt. She'd been staying in the small, A-frame home since she had no other place to go. Well, almost no other place.

Caroline had offered her a room in the house she shared with Stefan, but between their blooming romance, the twins, and Alaric, she'd have no time to herself.

She also had another offer, but refused it on principle. There was no way she was staying at -

"Hey," a voice sounded to her left.

Frustration boiled within her. She wondered why the man couldn't give her a day's peace. Perhaps he felt lonely too, but that was still no excuse for showing up uninvited to a witch's home. People have died for less…even vampires.

"Hey," she answered back, not looking at him.

She could sense the smirk on his face and rolled her eyes out of habit as she opened the door.

"Please tell me you have something better to do than stalk me," Bonnie said over her shoulder.

"I'm a vampire," Damon informed her, "That's what we do – stalk our prey."

Bonnie shook her head as she entered the foyer and turned to face him, hands on her hips in mock defiance. She loved him in so many complicated ways, but not enough to allow him to get the best of her.

Damon stood at the threshold of the door, smirking at her as if the tactic would work on her as it had on countless others over the years. It didn't, but it was amusing to have him make the attempt over and over again in hopes that it would.

He started to step inside when the invisible barrier of magic stopped him. He huffed.

"Come on, Bon: Seriously?!" he said.

Bonnie chuckled as she debated inviting the vampire into her home. Perhaps she enjoyed playing with him a little too much.

"There's no point in coming inside, Damon," Bonnie, "I have no bourbon, or vodka, or any liquor in this house."

Damon leaned against the doorframe wearing his signature black leather jacket, white t-shirt and jeans. Bonnie often wondered why he continued to dress like James Dean whenever possible.

"Bon, if I wanted a drink, I'd just bring my own," he noted, pulling a bottle from behind his back.

She placed the small bag of groceries she was holding on the kitchen table and continued to debate letting him inside. Once in, he'd use it as an excuse to visit whenever he wanted. He would have free reign to come and go as he pleased.

That kind of access made her nervous. On the one hand, she did enjoy his company. On the other hand, he stirred up all kinds of feelings and emotions she didn't want to deal with at the moment.

Damon poked his lip out a little for effect, forcing her to walk towards him and face his puppy dog expression head on.

"Look, I know you're lonely, Damon – " she started.

"This has nothing to do with that. I just want to spend time with my BFF," Damon noted.

"What about Alaric and Stefan?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her in an effort to protect herself from giving in too quickly.

"They're not as fun, not as pretty, and they don't smell as nice," he added with a genuine smile.

Bonnie laughed in response.

"If I let you in, do you promise to behave?" She asked.

"No!" he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Bonnie pretended to consider his request, but finally waved him inside.

Damon attempted to step into the house, but the magical barrier remained.

"Bonnie, you might want to actually say the words," he noted.

"Come on in, Damon," she said aloud.

Damon stepped inside and held his arms open wide for a hug.

"Don't push it Salvatore," she joked as she headed to the kitchen.

He followed close behind and helped her finish putting her purchases away.

He held up a pack of New York strip steak.

"Oh, what are we celebrating?" he asked of his beautiful friend.

. "I'm celebrating taking some online classes so I can stop living off my inheritance and eventually get a career," Bonnie said.

"Oh," Damon responded, "Well there are two steaks here…Does someone have a date?"

"No Damon! They come in packs of two or three. Don't you ever go to the grocery store?"

"Bon, I'm a vampire. I don't make trips to the market to buy food," he said, removing his jacket and showing off the almost too tight t-shirt he wore.

Bonnie scanned his form and quickly turned away. She shouldn't think of him like most other women did. Yes: Damon was sexy and charming, but he was also permanently unavailable.

"Sorry, Damon. I don't know why I keep forgetting that," she told him.

Bonnie prepared dinner, making both steaks just in case Damon felt like eating people food instead of actual people.

Once finished, she took the meal into the living room for them to eat in front of the television.

Damon sauntered behind her, popping open his bottle of liquor and sitting it on the table.

She sat down, grabbed the bottle and took a quick drink before digging into her food.

Damon smiled at her.

"I actually love that you forget I'm a vampire," he said, taking a drink and then sitting the bottle back down in front of her.

"A vampire is what you are, not necessarily who you are," she said softly.

She noted his smile from the corner of her eye, but refused to look directly at him.

He seemed different. He even looked different.

She felt so comfortable around him these days.

Perhaps it was because she missed her family and friends. Perhaps it went deeper than that.

She missed closeness. She missed contact. She missed being held and touched and –

Damon nudged her with his leg and disrupted her thoughts. The warmth of his touch ignited places that she desperately wanted to keep secret; especially from him.

"What's up?" Damon asked, chewing on his steak and looking in her eyes as if searching for something.

"Nothing," she lied.

Damon nodded, taking a swallow of bourbon before calling her out on it.

"You know I can hear that, right?" he asked, smirking at her.

Bonnie's heart did an inadvertent flip as she momentarily became trapped in his blue eyes.

"Hear what?" she said.

"How fast your heart is beating. I can hear it from across the room. Hell, I can probably hear it from across the street," Damon said, "What's up with you tonight?"

"Nothing is up with me, Damon," she insisted.

"I should also probably point out that when some people lie, their pulse and respiration change. I can hear that too," he added, tapping his right ear.

"So you're a lie detector?" she responded as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Pretty much," he said, "So are you going to tell me what's wrong or what? We are friends right?"

"Of course we are," she answered, "We are proof that men and women can be friends."

"True," he added.

"And we can be that way without, you know, there being any sort of, you know, sexual or romantic tension between us because we don't think of each other that way."

Damon set his drink on the table and turned toward her.

"Spit it out Bennett," Damon ordered.

"Spit what out?!"

"Bonnie, you're not the type to beat around the bush. Just tell me what's up," he added.

She took a deep breath, standing up and walking toward the window.

"783 days," she said quietly.

"What's that?" Damon asked, walking up to stand next to her.

"That's how long it's been since I've felt like anything other than a magical music box – ready to open up and sing for whomever wants a spell. That's how long it's been since I've been held by anyone; since I've been kissed, or called beautiful or felt like a woman. Caroline has had men fighting over her pretty much since she escaped the womb. Both Elena and Katherine had you and Stefan wrapped around their little fingers. Me…I mean, it's not like I need men knocking down my door, but my own boyfriend chose a ghost over me. I know the dating pool in Mystic Falls isn't really the best, but sometimes I – you know what, forget it…I shouldn't have brought it up," she stated, heading back to coffee table to grab the plates and take them into the kitchen.

Damon sped into the kitchen after her, making her jump several inches and drop the plates into the sink.

"What the Hell?!" she asked.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks, Damon," she said, looking over her shoulder.

Damon still held onto her.

"You can let go now," she continued, "I really appreciate this, but I don't need a pity hug after that pathetic 'I'm lonely' confession."

"I don't feel sorry for you Bon Bon," he said.

"Then why aren't you letting me go?" she asked.

"Because I don't want you to run away or hit me when I tell you this," Damon explained.

She chuckled.

"I could still set your brain on fire," she joked.

He let out a laugh.

"Just like old times, I guess," he said, putting his chin in the crook of her neck.

"What do you want to tell me?" Bonnie asked, placing her hands on his.

He waited for a moment before answering her.

"I've never felt sorry for you," he started, "You've always been this beautiful, strong, smart women full of hellfire and sweetness."

"Thanks, Damon. That's sweet of you to say," she began to pull out of his hold, but he didn't let her.

"I'm not done," he added, "I meant everything I said to you in the woods that night - about admiring you … envying you …and believing in you."

She let a solemn smile spread across her face, remembering how she desperately fought the hunter's instinct to kill one of her now closest friends. Remembering what he said to her just before she could have killed him.

"And that you loved me like Elena loves me," she tapped his hand, "Because we're friends."

Damon's breathing stopped for a moment. Bonnie felt it. The air changed in the room. His muscles tensed up quickly, but before they did, she felt something else in his chest – his heartbeat. She could feel it rocket against her shoulder blades, knowing that the mention of Elena's name was what stirred his soul and wishing she had the power to generate that kind of love in someone.

Her head fell to her chest.

"That's just it, Bon Bon," he confessed, "I lied a little bit."

Bonnie stopped moving. Weren't they friends? Why the hell would he even be hanging out with her and making her feel better if they weren't friends?

She tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he held on tightly?

"Let me finish," he said, his tone softer and more reassuring.

Bonnie just nodded, and stared out of the kitchen window. She noted her reflection, along with Damon's; his face pressed against hers.

"I don't love you like that – like I'm supposed to. I don't love you like a friend," he said.

Bonnie tried to turn around, wanting to look him in the eye and read him like she usually did.

"Let me turn around Damon," she pleaded.

He loosened his grip and she turned to face him.

Green eyes stared up into blue eyes and for a brief moment, time stood still for both of them.

"What did you lie about, Damon?" she added, her voice almost angry.

He thought for a moment.

"You know what: let's do this in a room with fewer knives," he joked, taking her along with him into the living room where he pulled her down on the couch next to him.

Damon drew Bonnie close so that her head rested on his chest. He then pulled a small blanket over her legs. She snuggled up to him, breathing in his cologne.

Yes. She missed being held. She figured they both missed it.

"Bon, I didn't lie when I said I love you – I do, but it's not the same way Elena loves you. I knew that then. I know it now; it's just that you don't want to tell your former girlfriend's best friend that – that you're in love with her – especially when she's got a wooden stake to your chest," he said.

Bonnie sat upright, pulling the blanket off of her. She began shaking her head.

"No…no you don't. You don't feel that way about me. You're lonely. I'm lonely. That's it. That's all this is," she said.

Damon reached for her left hand, placing it to his chest.

"Feel that?" Damon asked.

Bonnie swallowed hard. She knew what he meant. The heavy beating heart beneath her hand felt like it would break through the vampire's ribcage at any moment.

She gave him a silent nod.

"That – That's not platonic Bonnie. That's not friendship or loneliness. That's not me missing anybody but you when you're not around. And yeah, I'm a dick for feeling this way. I guess I could drown myself in co-eds if I want to, but I don't. I guess I could sit around another 70 years and wait for a woman that doesn't love me for who I am and constantly wants to change me, but I won't," Damon pulled Bonnie back down into his arms.

He kissed the top of her head, and then trailed his hand down her shoulders, rubbing her skin gently with his fingertips.

Bonnie began to stutter.

"I – I don't know what to say to that," she admitted.

She scooted up to where she sat nearly at eye level with him. She wanted to read his mind, but that power was beyond her own magic. She could only rely on her instincts, and those instincts were telling her that Damon had told her the truth. He loved her.

The world no longer made sense, but it was a beautiful thing to hear.

Bonnie just didn't know how to feel about it.

Loving him back meant betraying her closest friend.

Yet she did love him back; She loved how he respected her, challenged her, and listened to her even when she was angry with him.

"I don't want to change you Damon," Bonnie finally said.

He raised a hand and stroked her cheek.

"Then what do you want, Bonnie?" he asked, leaning forward.

The words came to her without a second thought.

"I want you to hold me like your life depended on it. I want you to look at me like I'm the only woman in the world. I want you to kiss me like you need it just as much as you need to breathe. I want once, just once, to be chosen – fought for, because, damn it, I deserve that," Bonnie said, as a tear ran down her cheek.

Damon wiped it away with the back of his hand; he then leaned into her left ear and whispered to her.

"Bonnie," he said, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Damon," she responded.

He leaned in closer, placing his hand gently on the back of her neck. He waited for a moment, before pulling her close and capturing her lips with his. His kiss was soft and hungry; passionate, but cautious as he used his free hand to scoop her into his lap and continue the kiss.

Bonnie kissed him back, losing herself in the moment. She threaded her fingers in his hair and noticed that he let out a soft groan and kissed her harder. His hand traveled up her waist and settled on her back. The warmth of it stirred Bonnie to her core, and she unconsciously arched into him; pressing her chest against his.

His kiss felt like magic. She never wanted it to end, but when it did, she took a deep breath, realizing that she already missed his touch – Damon's touch.

"Wow," he whispered.

"What's wrong," she panted, not realizing that she'd forgotten to breathe the entire time they kissed.

"Bon," he began.

He tugged her onto his lap so she straddled him.

Damon placed his forehead against hers.

"What?" she said.

"Bon, I do love you, and I am going to hold you like my life depended on it, because it does. You are the only woman in the world…And I am going to keep kissing you because I do need it like I need to breathe – just tell me you're sure," he said.

"Damon, I'm sure," she said, just before he kissed her again.

"Good, because we're going to be here a while," Damon said.

He kissed her again, slow and soft as the lights began to flicker off and on.

This is what magic feels like, Bonnie thought, This is what love feels like. I guess I really am home.