A/N: I don't know how to introduce this exactly, but it was written for my Christmas writing challenge whereby I pick 5 ships suggested by my followers and I write one-shots for each one during the holidays. This is the second out of five (if you want to read the first - an Erik Killmonger/Iris West story - you can find it on ao3). This is also dedicated to nys30 on tumblr who suggested the pairing.

This oneshot takes place before the show's run and it speculates what might happened the previous Halloween, when Bonnie got so drunk that she was "hung over until Thanksgiving" (see excerpt below). Beware for some Emily Bennett possession shenanigans and my always extra trash ass lol.

I hope you enjoy! Happy holidays!

Tyler: Cider for the ladies. It's a Lockwood special.

Bonnie: No way. Last year I was hung over until Thanksgiving.

- 1.07 - Haunted

A year earlier

Bonnie snorted into her red plastic cup. "Are those supposed to be fangs? They look like glow sticks."

Tyler Lockwood groaned as he moved the prosthetic teeth away from his mouth. "Cut me some slack, okay? They looked cool on the internet."

"You ordered them online? Tyler, noooo." She dragged out the last word in a tipsy haze, sloshing the beer in her cup.

Tyler put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "That isn't your first drink of the night, huh?"

Bonnie giggled and shook her head. "Nope. It's my fourth." She held up two fingers. "Wait, that's not right...but everything looks double."

Tyler laughed. "Bonnie Bennett. I believe this is your first time getting wasted."

Bonnie tried to take a bow, but ended up spilling more of her drink. Her face suddenly crumpled. "Oh God, don't tell Grams."

"That you're a lightweight?"

"Tyler!"

He surveyed the frolic-filled woods and the camp fire glowing bright orange in the distance. "Relax. I won't tell her if you don't. And she's definitely not here."

"Promise you'll hold my hair if I throw up," she said, clinging to his fur-suit.

He chuckled. Drunk Bonnie was still a dork, if slightly bolder.

"I mean I don't think I can even touch your hair," he said, staring at the conical hat that was covering most of her head. "Didn't you dress up as a witch last year too?"

"Hey…different witch. There's more than one, you know…" she slurred, lifting the cup to her lips. She tipped the warm beer down her throat, foam dribbling down her chin.

"Wasn't Elena supposed to look out for you?" he said, eyes scanning the crowd of teenagers scattered through the woods. Some of the seniors were shedding clothes, getting ready for a skinny dip.

"She went with Matt …to find a good make-out spot," Bonnie replied, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Pff, make-outs are so…last year."

Tyler heaved a sigh. Vicky was waiting for him in their make-out spot. But he couldn't leave Bonnie by herself in the middle of the woods. He realized with chagrin that he was stuck with her until he could get her somewhere safe.

"Come on, Bennett. Watch your step."

Tyler was going to give Elena Gilbert an earful. It wasn't his job to be looking out for her friends. Luckily, half of the party moved to Lockwood Manor and he could safely deposit Bonnie in one of the guest bedrooms.

The not-so-lucky part was that he forgot about her halfway through the night.

The last time he talked to her she was sprinkling water on her face from the bathroom sink. He hoped she hadn't thrown up in it.

He was going to go check on her but…he lost track of his own sobriety.

It was almost three in the morning, the rest of the kids were gone, and he had fallen asleep on the really uncomfortable couch in the foyer. The mandatory dick and balls had been crudely drawn on his forehead. Someone would pay for that at school.

Despite being thoroughly hammered, Tyler was a light sleeper. He heard her before he saw her.

Bonnie padded quietly to the couch. She crouched down until her intoxicated breath hit him straight in the face. There was something tangy sweet about it.

"What the…"

It took him a few moments to recognize her. He'd completely forgotten about her. Tyler cursed, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. She was still wearing her witch dress, a waifish Renaissance gown. He could see her bare, slender legs. She'd taken off her stockings.

"Wolf boy…" she murmured, voice low and husky and not at all like herself. She sat down next to him and rested her hand on his chest.

Tyler groaned. Her palm was warm. "Great…gonna make fun of my costume again?"

"It's no costume…" she drawled, dragging her finger across his chest. "You are a wolf. I can smell it."

Tyler finally looked at her face. Her forest-green eyes had a milky film over them. Her lips were parted. She was smiling in a way that was completely foreign – almost playful.

She leaned forward, dark locks tumbling down her shoulders. Her fingers snagged against his shirt, dragging him closer.

Tyler felt himself stutter. "Um. B-Bonnie."

"She's not here…" Bonnie trailed off, lips ghosting over his. "Or is she?"

Tyler almost jumped when he felt her tongue teasing his lower lip. His self-control was never that great, especially when he was hungover and not fully awake. He opened his mouth, wanting to taste her. When he moved his lips against hers, she pulled back, a vixen grin revealing small, sharp teeth.

"What do you want, wolf boy?"

Tyler was suddenly aware she was more or less straddling his lap and that his hand was brushing against her thigh. He swallowed. The fabric was heavy against his palm. He dragged his fingers up, pulling the brocade with him.

Bonnie laughed, an eerie clawing sound.

His jaw slackened when she gripped his wrist and helped him pull up her dress, revealing tan skin underneath.

Tyler shuddered, exhaled. Shit. He was already hard. She needed to stop moving.

"What do you want, wolf boy?" she repeated, bringing her lips to his again.

"I want to…um…I want…" He had never been this tongue-tied before. His fingers were cupping bare flesh. He was losing himself in the warmth. This was Bonnie Bennett for Pete's sake. She was off-limits. She had always been in his orbit, but more like a little sister than an actual girl. Not that they were as close as siblings. And Bonnie was older than him by a few months. But he felt like he had a responsibility towards her. He could fool around with other girls, but not Bonnie, the sweet, soft-spoken girl in his class who drew blossoms in her notebook, read Jane Austen, and talked about becoming a vet.

Yet here she was, lying on top of him, grinding against him, her heart-shaped face both innocent and wicked.

It's always the quiet ones.

"I wanna kiss you," he said hoarsely and he sank his fingers in her hair. When he captured her lips, they felt slippery and cold, like they were underwater. But it was a delicious coolness, like he was skinny-dipping. He remembered the Halloween party only as a vague memory. Everything was far away from him. Her mouth cradled his, captured him and dominated, in a sense. Made him feel weak. Their tongues met shyly and he felt some power leech out of him. Then more… and more.

He became bone-weary as her sweetness and coolness and foreignness invaded him.

The kiss seemed to last only a moment… and then the whole night. His fingers in her hair, her tongue against his, darkness becoming lighter.

When he opened his eyes again, it was morning. Daylight was streaming through the curtains, making his eyes water.

The foyer was littered with garbage. He was alone.

He remembered his mom and dad were due to return from the conference in a couple of hours.

"Shit."

Yet somehow, there was no rush to get up. He sat there on the couch trying to remember something…something important. A girl and a kiss.

Wolf boy.

He rubbed at his temples. Why did he feel so exhausted?

And where was –

Bonnie.

He scrambled off the couch and ran up the stairs. He checked every bedroom, calling out her name.

But she was nowhere to be found. There was no sign she'd been there.

Except one.

The witch hat. It was perched on the bedstead in his parents' master bedroom.

Bonnie leaned her head against the locker. She relished the cool metal against her fevered temples. She hoped she hadn't come down with something contagious. She had thrown up all weekend, had lain in bed and drunk herbal tea and re-read Sense and Sensibility. And she was still feeling crummy this morning. She was never drinking again. At least Grams had been surprisingly cool about it. Well, not really. She had grounded Bonnie, but it was not like she could go anywhere the way she was feeling. But Sheila Bennett didn't believe it was the alcohol which had rendered her so useless. She had muttered something about "dark energies" and "auras", but she had thankfully not elaborated. Bonnie had caught her whispering something against her forehead as she kissed her goodnight, something that did not sound like English, but her granddaughter was too gone on ibuprofen to care.

Should she care, she wondered? Was Grams going a bit kooky in old age?

"Hey, Bonnie."

She started rudely. She hadn't sensed the presence behind her.

"Jesus. You scared me."

Tyler Lockwood looked at her sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. I, uh…I hope you got home okay on Friday. I - I kind of blacked out."

Bonnie exhaled in relief. "Oh, it's totally fine. I'm an idiot who can't hold her liquor. Lesson learned. Thank you for looking out for me."

Tyler still looked pretty uneasy. She couldn't figure out why. "It's nothing. I just… you woke me up in the middle of the night and we, uh, talked? But then I didn't see you again in the morning…"

Bonnie frowned. Huh. No, she didn't recall any conversation. "Um, I don't remember talking. I woke up in the guest-room a little before sunrise. Sorry I didn't wake you but I needed to get home before Grams actually killed me."

Tyler looked lost for a moment. His eyes narrowed, his mouth searching for words. But then he nodded abruptly.

"Yeah. No problem. I get it. I hope she, uh, didn't give you too much trouble."

"She was definitely not cool about it, but honestly, I've been feeling so crappy that she realized it was punishment enough."

Tyler surveyed her features slowly, eyes lingering on her lips. "Yeah...you don't look too hot."

Bonnie snorted. "Gee, thanks."

She was shocked to find that Tyler Lockwood was blushing. He stammered. "I didn't mean it like that – you always look nice –"

"It's fine, I'm just teasing. God, I hope I didn't say or do anything too embarrassing that night."

Tyler's eyes strayed to her mouth again. Bonnie felt a little self-conscious. Did she really look that bad? She brushed her thumb against her lower lip.

That seemed to snap him out of it. "I, uh, have to go. See you around?"

Bonnie was confounded. Had she spilled out her drunken guts to him? Should she consult with Caroline? Did this count as an emergency?

No, don't be ridiculous. Tyler would've told you if there was anything wrong. It's all in your head.

He was already walking away. She called out after him, trying to sound like everything was fine.

.

"See you around, wolf boy."

Tyler froze in the middle of the hallway.

He waited a beat. When he turned his head, she was already walking to class.

Wolf boy.

He swallowed. He could still feel the warmth of her skin, the coolness of her lips.

But it must've been a fever dream. Must've been some kind of delusion.

Shit. He'd fantasized about Bonnie Bennett.

Maybe he ought to keep a wide berth from now on.

What he knew for certain was that he was never going to bring it up again, even if it would keep haunting his dreams.