Well, this is the start of a story which I'll update every week, on sunday mornings. It has 94 pages completed on the word processor. I don't own Bonnie or Damon, but I do love the idea that they would get together. I'm sorry that this doesn't even begin to measure up to the longest completed D/B fic on here, Bloodlust. I have read that...and it is the best. Sticks to everything, everyone is normal, no OOC, and Damon gets the redhead. I am happy with that.
This story is set 10 (or something) years after all that happened. I started writing it about 4 years ago...so it is...ya get it.
Prologue
Bonnie turned over in her sleep, trying to fight the dream that she knew was going to come. The usual blur of images, all of them, flashed behind her eyelids. Whirling colors slowed and gained definition, becoming the scene that she had dreamed of for eleven and a half years. Bonnie's face seemed resigned as she allowed herself to slip into the familiar sensations.
The clearing was cool and more than a little damp from the rain. He had just explained to these people why he was not like them. Everyone was looking at Damon, so pale even after the angelic healing Elena had given him, in different shades of wonder and exasperation at his conclusion.
"Damon—" She wanted him to stay, he had shown her something of himself, the part that still loved his brother. Bonnie had wanted to find out if there was anything else that had driven Damon through his long life.
Though she knew how this dream ended, she fought to keep him there, so he could speak to her. She fought because even in sleep she wanted him to talk with her. But instead of when she felt the mixture of his confused emotions, she nearly awoke at the shock she received.
"Yes?" The Damon of her dream had solidified, bringing the sharp contrast between his pale face and dark hair and his entrancing eyes to her complete attention. Bonnie was only mildly surprised when the other characters in her dream started to fade into the dark edges of her vision. The only thing that was alarming was that she could feel Damon's Power pulling at the strings of this vision, pulling at her.
"Why are you here?" The question popped out of her mouth before Bonnie could haul herself together.
"To see you Bonnie. Why else would I go to this trouble?" His cool voice, the one that could turn hard and icy in an instant, was slightly joking as if he thought his little game was the next best thing to the verbal fencing he played with his brother, Stefan.
"Why would you do that? You left; I didn't want you to leave at all. Any fool of a lesser Line would have seen it, so don't tell me that you didn't know, Damon Salvatore." He seemed to be taken aback by this remark, but only a little. Though Bonnie knew it was just a dream, she felt embarrassed at what she had just babbled to him, because Damon of real life had heard her in this lucid dream that she was having.
"Perhaps I will tell you another time little NaLal." The startling smile was gone in an instant and the dream ended in the sharp pain and dull thud of having rolled out of bed.
Bonnie shuddered at what her brain had imagined. She could remember his lips against hers, so soft, so cool. She could remember his hands softening on her arms. But Bonnie could also feel those hands instantly releasing her when they both heard Matt. Bonnie still felt everything; she felt everything she had ever felt towards Damon: fear, happiness, suspicion, pain, even that seemingly ill-timed passion.
"Maybe I do love him, Sabbath, like Monika said when she visited on the Solstice. But that's Monika, silly and gossipy as a bird and just as secretive, so she might have been making fun of me. You remember Monika Avian, don't you Sabbath?" The black cat yawned, revealing razor sharp teeth that were perfectly white, indicating what she thought of Monika. Bonnie smiled at the lanky little animal and shook her head. The little old lady inside the cat was very particular when it came to people.
Bonnie left her bed and walked through her house to the airplane hangar. The hangar was dark and the lights wouldn't turn on, and Bonnie's mood went from neutral good to sarcastic anger. Great, peachy and wonderful. Spectacular, Bonnie thought as she fumbled around to the circuit breakers to see if the lights would turn on with them. They didn't. Brilliant. Sighing, she stumbled through the mess that came with owning an airplane.
A loud "ow!" and several curses rent the air as Bonnie became what airplane owners call a "Cessna Head." Caused by the diamond shaped tapering ends of the wings of Cessna Aircraft, these are rather nasty little cuts that almost always leave scars. Furious, Bonnie fought her way through the rest of the hangar to her bicycle, which thankfully didn't have any other dangers than that of falling over.
Bonnie cursed her love of flying and laughed at the same time because now she was an initiate of the Cessna Heads of the World. Bonnie touched her forehead, and when she dared to look at the tips of her fingers she found that they were dotted with blood. Bonnie sat there staring at the red liquid, angry at herself for getting such a freak injury.
When she had finished berating herself, Bonnie whispered a small healing spell. Though too weak to completely heal the wounds, it would have to do. Bonnie examined her work and then with a call to the spirits of wind, she pedaled off in a streak of red and blue-black.
The crow landed under the streetlight on the dark taxiway tarmac and walked over to the shadows surrounding it. The sky was dark as Damon used his Power to shape the light how he wanted it. He was betting on the fact that Bonnie wouldn't recognize the scent of his Power while she planned on what to do for her little idiot patient. Once the last vampiric spell was laid, he stepped into the light for the first time in human form.
The bluish light made him look white with the pallor of his skin. His face was one that could make a person do anything, rational or not, because of what they saw there. His eyes held a compelling mix of hidden motives and shadows in them. The straight Roman nose could have been swiped off of ancient coinage. His mouth was something that generations of sculptors had strived desperately for and failed miserably. The rest of him, lean body, night dark hair, and elegant limbs, held just as much mystery and poise that the word "handsome" was a useless word, Damon more than defined handsome, he was what writers thought of when they wanted a word that just didn't exist. Damon was something that drove most people to the edge of madness, where some had teetered and fell. He paused to muse on this as he waited.
Damon stopped his musings as he heard the tick, tick, tick, tick, tick of Bonnie's bicycle. The sound was slow, and he heard her footsteps echoing slightly in the night air.
Okay, I'm not completely married to the idea that I will just copy and paste every Sunday morning, if you want me to do something, review and kindly ask for it. Love you all for reading!
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