Hi everyone! Since I found that there were so many around here starving for Bamon, here I am with another one. This is set in the night after the celebration in Elena's Christmas. For those who haven't read ir, yet, Elena's Christmas is a little story written by L.J. Smith about how our favourite characters celebrate Christmas in mid July, just after Elena gets back the ability to talk and such stuff in Nightfall. Do read that first! Hope you'll like this. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.

For Orizielle, my lovely friend :)

The Night After

It was past midnight, and Bonnie was in high spirits. She was overjoyed at how well her idea of celebrating Christmas for Elena had gone. They had had a wonderful time together, for once in a long time without interruptions by evil forces. And the warm hug and the grateful smile that Elena had given her while parting was enough to tell her that all their efforts had been worth.

One couldn't possibly get drunk on eggnog and mead, but Bonnie was definitely drunk. With joy. She went over to the window, staring out at the warm July night. The thought of them getting fake snow all over in the boarding house made her giggle. Next year, she promised herself, we'll have a real Christmas. At the proper time. And it will be just as great.

Still high on the celebration induced euphoria, Bonnie skipped around the room. Twirling round and round to the bed, she sang at the top of her voice, not caring if her parents would hear:

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..."

"...Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!" a velvety voice finished from the window.

Bonnie nearly fell off the bed.

"D-Damon!" she yelped, swinging around to face the window.

"Who else?" he said, flashing her a blinding smile, and unlike usual, not turning it off. He was elegantly perched on the window, looking as comfortable as if it were a cozy armchair. "May I come in, little redbird?"

"Y-yes, of course," Bonnie stammered, managing with an effort not to add an 'ooh'. "I— what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, of course," Damon replied, smoothly stepping into the room. "I never said a proper goodbye at the boarding house, did I?"

"Ah, yes," Bonnie coughed, embarrassed, "I was a bit— occupied."

"So I saw," Damon said wryly, looking extremely annoyed, as if something about her kiss with Matt irked him very much.

"It was platonic," she said, something inside her demanding that her action required explanation.

"Yes, very well, but I wouldn't rather you shared a kiss, platonic or not, with... Mutt," Damon replied, still exasperated at the memory. Watching Stefan kissing Elena was bad enough, but walking upon both his princess and his redbird being kissed by others had really killed his mood.

"Must you call him Mutt, Damon?" Bonnie sighed. "Matt hates it when you do that."

I can't even remember his name most of the time these days, Damon thought, with a tinge of worry, but didn't say it aloud, not wishing to ruin the mood. He only shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"Do you even know what platonic means?" he added with a mischievous, crooked smile.

"Of course I do!" she huffed, making Damon's smile widen; he always liked to see his redbird riled up, it made him think of a little kitten making swipes at the empty air. "Meredith told me. It means like a friend, not like—" she trailed of and blushed a deep red, remembering her kiss with Damon on the porch of a boarding house.

Time hung between them as both stood awkwardly, unsure how to break the silence.

"I wanted to give you your Christmas present," Damon murmured finally.

Bonnie's eyes widened. "Oh, but Damon, you shouldn't! We gave you our silliest gifts, and even those were for Stefan, but we had no idea you were coming... if we had been, we would surely have put something better for you, and —"

Her babbling was cut off by a set of soft lips on hers.

Damon kissed her softly, gently, as if he was afraid he'd break her, and as his lips caressed her with incomparable tenderness, Bonnie felt her legs give away. The kiss was so sweet that it was almost heartbreaking, and Bonnie felt herself floating, floating in an endless ocean of pleasure and love. She was literally turning into mush in Damon's arms.

Just as gently as he had initiated the kiss, Damon pulled away from her.

"Merry Christmas, Bonnie," he whispered, tracing her jawline with his finger, their faces still close, close enough for his warm breath to fall on her cheeks. Bonnie stared helplessly at him, losing everything in the depths of his midnight eyes, even though he had not used his Power.

"Oooh..." was all she could say, and would have chastised herself for not having a better reply had she been capable of forming a coherent thought.

"I— I should give you something too," she said, once she had regained some semblance of sanity, "As a return gift."

"You don't —" Damon began, but was stunned to a stop as Bonnie lowered the neck of her nightgown and leaned her head back so that her long, beautiful column of a neck was exposed to his sight. Damon couldn't believe what she was doing; she was giving herself up to him willingly, inviting him to take her blood... On second thoughts, he could believe it. It was just the sort of thing Bonnie would do.

The fine blue veins on her neck stood out to his hungry gaze, calling to him. Damon could feel his canines lengthening. But he had told himself that he wouldn't drink from her. He knew that she was a maiden, not a child, but still he refused to break his word to himself. With an effort, he mastered his animal instincts.

"Are you crazy?" he asked her incredulously. She was literally, voluntarily preparing to make a dinner out of herself.

"No — I — what's wrong?" her voice shook with surprise as she straightened up to look at him.

"Bonnie," he said quietly, "Have I ever taken your blood before?"

She was bewildered at her offer being declined. "No, but—"

"Then what makes you think I would do it now?"

Her confusion increased, now mingling with some hurt and irritation. "But — but, why not? I could understand when Stefan refused, but you too... why? Is this... is this because... because — Elena and Meredith, and even Caroline are more... more..." she traced the circular shape of breasts in the air, "— developed? And I'm —"

Damon felt equal amount of irritation and amusement at her words. All through these months, he had seen this little redbird grow before his eyes, become more mature and less child-like in her manner, and yet she was so similar to how she had been the first time they had met. And he was angry because she never, ever should feel insecure and unhappy about how she was.

"Don't be silly, redbird," he almost snapped at her. "If anything, you should be relieved that I am not draining you. And I don't ever want to hear you think yourself inferior to Elena and Meredith, and certainly not Caroline."

She had looked away at his outburst, hurt simmering in her liquid brown eyes. Damon felt his heart clench as he saw the sadness on her face.

"By the way," he said softly, bringing up a small smile on his face, "I accept in kind."

Her head snapped towards him at his words, her eyes widening, pupils dilating and lips parting in wonder as she grasped the meaning behind his words. She licked her lips nervously, and gulped. Then, as if steeling herself, her face composed itself and her eyes brightened, and Bonnie threw herself at him.

This kiss was infinitely more intense than anything Bonnie had ever experienced, and the desperation with which she was kissing him frightened her the most. The only thing that reassured her was the fervor with which Damon was kissing her back, after his initial surprise at her attack. Bonnie threaded her fingers in his soft, silky hair, reveling in the exquisite sensation, and felt Damon smile against her lips as he twirled her curls. She could have gone on like this forever, for time had lost all meaning, but her supply of oxygen had other ideas. Unable to hold on any longer, Bonnie pulled away with a gasp, her face heated feverishly, her breath coming in pants. She was glad Damon was holding her in his arms, because if she had been mush earlier, she was a puddle now. She couldn't move if she wanted to. Thankfully she didn't.

She wanted to say Merry Christmas, as smoothly and nicely as Damon had, but all that came out was a breathy, almost inaudible, "D-Damon..."

Said person was gazing at her, smiling enchantingly, his lips (Bonnie noticed with some pride in her incoherent state) were slightly swollen, his hair tousled under the work of her fingers, and if Bonnie wasn't mistaken, his face flushed. He was breathing hard as well.

Still holding her protectively, Damon's eyes strayed over to the clock. It was past two o' clock. They had never noticed when time flew by.

"It's late. I think you should get to bed," he said, his voice husky, an aftermath of the kiss. "Or you'll have a hard time getting up tomorrow."

Bonnie didn't reply, only shivered pleasurably as he mentioned 'bed'. She was still too dazed. Easily picking her up in his arms, he carried her, bridal style, to the bed, and deposited her lightly among the pillows.

"Go to sleep, little songbird," he murmured.

"Oh, but," her eyes were wide open now, and there was something so child-like in them as she stared up at him, "I'm not sleepy."

That totally ruined Damon's mood. He never understood how this girl managed to swing his emotions around.

"So what am I supposed to do, tell you bedtime stories?" he grumbled.

"Oh, yes! You could do that!" Bonnie's eyes sparkled as she smiled brilliantly. Damon stared.

"You want me to — tell you bedtime stories?" What kind of person wanted to hear Sleeping Beauty and Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood at seventeen? Well, Little Red goes for her, he thought distractedly, remembering that episode with the werewolves, the first time they met.

But Bonnie was still smiling at him. "I want you to tell me stories. Tell me about the Renaissance. Tell me about the time when you were —" she broke off, looking down shyly for a moment, "— when you were human."

Damon couldn't put a tab on the emotions that began coursing through him the moment she said those words. Nobody alive other than Katherine and Stefan knew about what he had been like when he was a human. Nobody had ever had asked him about his human life. Not through all these five hundred years. Not even Elena.

"Alright," he said in his calmest, most confident tone, trying hard not to show just how potent a storm of emotions Bonnie had started within him, and supporting his weight on his elbow, reclined on the bed beside her. "Prepare to be enthralled, cara."

As it so happened, Bonnie proved to be a wonderful audience. Damon was careful to pick only the most entertaining and the happiest memories that he'd had of his human life. He told her about the operas which he and Stefan visited together, the beautiful black horse which he owned, and loved to ride at dawn and dusk everyday, the sheer tide of art and culture that had developed during the Renaissance, and the colourful parties and dances he had gone to. He told her how some the Italian nobles feuded for the silliest of reasons. He told her about Signore Lucca, knowing she would understand given how she she had been treated by Tanner. He narrated how he had once set his dress on fire, making her giggle (and her laugh was the most melodious sound in the world; it made him melt a little, inside). For the first time in as long as he could remember, Damon opened up about his past, and as he spoke, he himself got lost in the memories.

"...and beyond that tower was the sea, and it looked so completely blue in the clear days..." he was saying, when he heard a soft sigh. Looking down, out of the past, he saw that that Bonnie had fallen asleep. Her strawberry curls tumbled over her face messily, and her fingers were entwined around Damon's free hand. Her lips were set in a contented smile.

Damon found himself smiling as well as he saw her face, so innocent and child-like, with a rose-petal glow which made her look all the more exquisite. Very carefully, so as to not wake her up, he extracted his hand from her grip, and noiselessly slipped out of the bed. He stood very still for a moment, watching her sleeping features, memorizing them. And finally, he lowered his head and very softly brushed his lips against her forehead. With a light brush of his fingertips on her hair, he straightened up.

"Good night, my little redbird," he whispered, and walked over to the window.

Bonnie McCullough smiled in her sleep as a magnificent black crow soared up to the sky.

So how was it? Please, please, please review!