AN: lol, I thought there'd be a way to put this in when I uploaded.

"Put it in the story!" Duh! So, sorry for the late intro. But hey, it's me. New to this whole thing... I thought all the stories used to happen by magic, but I had an epiphany recently. Not sure how long this is going to go for. About 10 -15-20 chapters (I have no idea and am just skipping in fives, if you noticed). I am super busy at school/university but I solemnly vow not to leave it hanging. So read in comfort. About two chapters a week, I'd say. Uhmmm… what else… Review, if you really like it. No criticism allowed. Joke. Uhm… The first three chapters are just like a prologue. A cohesive plot lies ahead. And… uhm…

I generally disclaim…

"It's the end of the world, and there's time for you to have sex with only one person. Who would you pick? Me or Stefan?"

Jeremy didn't answer. Just stared.

"Who would you pick?" Damon persisted.

Jeremy looked away, obviously irritated, then smirked. It was a pretty good smirk, seeing that the boy was only seventeen and only starting to realise all that a smirk was supposed to mean. "Is this the part where you break my neck?"

"Not yet," Damon smiled, raking a fry through a puddle of ketchup in his plate. "But we're getting to it. Okay… End of the world. Sex with one person. Caroline or Elena?"

"How sick are you?"

"Remember, she's adopted."

"Remember, we're still related. By blood."

"This is Mystic Falls. Cousins are legal."

"Did you get the ashes?"

"Uhhh…." He hadn't. For lack of trying, precisely. He'd killed Bree with his own hands and he wasn't too keen on showing up on Ally's doorstep with a 'sorry I killed your mum, but here's the deal…' Call him a coward, but shirking responsibility was one of his skills. "I'm working on that." And by that he meant that he'd asked one of his shadier human acquaintances to break into the woman's house and steal the urn that was supposed to have the ash in it. He wanted little and less to do with all the ritual and voodoo ins and out. He was plagued enough as it was with witchcraft.

More than anything, he wanted out. He wanted freedom from Mystic falls and it undiversified people. Middle-aged women or teenagers. Where were the hot twenty-two years olds? The twenty-five year olds? The women at that stage between virgin and mother of two? Just because he looked young, didn't mean he was. He wasn't.

"Just get it. Bonnie needs it."

"Bonnie needs a good fucking. That's what she needs."

Cue the awkward. Alaric sputtered beer down the front of his shirt. Sputtered it up through his nose and damn near choked as he coughed up what had gone down into his lungs. The bartender continued flawlessly pretending to have heard nothing. Jeremy… Jeremy clenched his jaw, but didn't do or say anything except look condescending and constipated. "Not funny, Damon."

"Really? Cause I think it's hilarious. I–"

And that's when the door opened and she came in.

"Bonnie!" For some reason, it was Jeremy who went out on the task as if they weren't just deliberating over the particulars of her needs. The two of them went back and forth with the insipid pleasantries: 'I was looking for you', 'were you?', 'I love you so much', 'I've got homework'… Then Jeremy kissed her. Right there in front of him. Slid his hands down the witch's side, bit her bottom lip, swiped his tongue on her palate… Pretty much everything he could have done save from hitching up the girl's skirt and fingering her.

Then she broke away and frowned. Taking in the scene. Alaric managed to hold her eye contact for all of half a heartbeat before he whipped out his phone and pretended to have something to do with it.

"Witch," Damon greeted her, painting his face with boredom and disinterest.

"Damon," she greeted back. Frigidly. "You look…"

Hot? Handsome? Better the Jeremy? Like a verified sex machine? Just like I do in your dreams but with more clothes?

"…like you're not where you're supposed to be. You're supposed to be getting the ash. Why aren't you getting the ash?"

"Because…" This was another one of those times where it wouldn't do to tell the truth. "I was…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fine silver chain. Diamond pendants hanging from every other link in the metal. A work of eye-dazzling beauty. "I found this and thought… Maybe it'd help you or something."

She stared at it, like a cat at something shiny. "This is…" her eyes widened. "This belonged to Magwyr…"

"Yeah, yeah…" Damon dropped it into her hand as if it were nothing. As if it wasn't a priceless heirloom of one of the most powerful supernatural families to exist. "Red Maggy's very own."

"How'd you…"

Get it? Not important, but it involved a lot of blood and an arrow. "One week indentured as a sex slave."

She held it up in the light, displaying it for every cutthroat in the kingdom to see. "It's…"

He sauntered out of the place before she could finish what she was saying.

Stefan frowned. "This is not going to end well."

"What isn't going to end well?"

"This thing."

"What thing?"

"This thing with Bonnie."

"You mean resurrecting Geraldine, the demon slayer to kill Klaus? Of course, that's not going to end well. After she kills the big Papa Demon, she'll be coming after us little ones with a vengeance. Never to fear, I've stocked the bunker-cellar with enough blood to last a year or so, so we can hide out there and come up with a kickass plan."

"Relevant, but not what I'm talking about."

Damon narrowed his eyes and put on his 'if you dare' look. "Then enlighten me, my liege."

"This thing with Bonnie."

"The open friendliness?"

"Damon," Stefan groaned. "You're my brother and in some sick little way, I love you. You're a piece of shit sometimes, but I love you. Despite the fact that I hate you sometimes and wish the earth would swallow you whole."

"And?"

"This thing with Bonnie is going to end in tears. Yours."

Well, a refreshing angle, for once. "Hm?"

"Bonnie's not…" Stefan started and stopped. "The way I see it, you're dead last on the list of people Bonnie would look at. A- you more or less killed her grandmother. B- you bit her. C- you made a declaration of undying love to my girlfriend last month. Remember all that?"

"And…"

"I mean, look at you. Then look at Jeremy. Look at that clash up right there. I can't even think of something short of mental trauma that'd make Bonnie think about you in that light."

"You're like chicken soup laced with muriatic acid."

"Come on!" Stefan sighed. "She has zero interest in you!"

"Think I don't know that? I have a plan!"

"You have a plan…"

"I have two hundred years' experience in unrequited love. Of course I have a fucking plan. Think I'm just going to offer myself up on a side tray? I know what works and I know what doesn't. Hopeless devotion doesn't get me squat. I'm not going with that again. This time, I'm going to be the one who's hard to get. And she's going to have to be the one offering herself up to me…"

"She doesn't want you, Damon!"

"She will. I gave her Red Mags' –"

"No…"

"Yes."

"The chain? Red Mags'?"

"Yeah, so it's pretty much a done deal."

"Why would you– Bonnie?" Stefan's mouth opened wordlessly, swallowing air for a while and letting the silence represent his disbelief. "You just woke up one day and thought you'd screw her life up? You are not in love with her. And more importantly, she is not in love with you! What the fuck is wrong with you, Damon? Do you or do you not remember Red Mag? And I told you to destroy the chain! You not only keep it, but you give it away to a teenage girl? Another witch? Why– Oh. My. God! Damon!" He threw a lamp into a wall to add another exclamation point. "We have to deal with Klaus! Did I stutter when I described in detail the chaos that Klaus is bringing down on our heads? He has hoards of hybrids in his service. He's resurrected both his witches and made them into hybrids too. He's on a warpath to convert every vampire and werewolf in the country, which includes me and you, and all we have between us is one witch. One witch, Damon, who tolerates us at best. One witch who's willing to help us not only survive, but also willing to fight with us when she could very easily side with Klaus, the vampire who hasn't killed her grandmother IN A WILD GOOSE CHASE FOR THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE!" A half empty bottle of something or the other followed the lamp into the wall.

"I'm not directly to blame for the thing with the grams."

"Okay…" Stefan raked his fingers over his face, not clawing his eyes out as Damon wished he would. "So how about you go and get it back - the cursed object of our dear friend, Red Mags?"

"No."

"No?" He laughed sickly. "Okay. That's fine, Damon. I don't know what's going on with you. You're getting on in age. Feeling a little senile. Maybe it's the preservatives in the blood bags messing with your head. I don't know, but anyhow I look at it, you're not thinking clearly. Bonnie's not even your type!"

"Not my type? You do realise that I'm intimately familiar with the Bennett family line? I'd go out on a limb and say that with the exception of Emily and Sheila, I've–"

"My God…" Stefan sighed. "You are so disturbed…"

"I'm in love with someone that you're not in love with! This should be good news."

"And for some odd reason, it's not. What's you're malfunction, Damon? Love isn't some game you can just play at. You can't eenie meenie minnie moe this. Why Bonnie?"

"Off all the women in the world. I think Bonnie fits me best. She gets me. The whole meeee," he stretched the word. "And it's undeniable that we've got this tension."

"A rope with a man dangling on the end of it has tension, Damon."

"The kind of tension I'm talking about leads to sex. I have this running fantasy where she actually finds out that the chain is hexed. We're at the Grill when she finds out and in her haste to rip it off she rips off her blouse. And her bra. There's like a shitload of people witnessing this, by the way. She's topless, and she uses her telekinesis thing to brace me up against the bar, and she's setting the place on fire – the sprinkler system comes on so she's all wet. She does that judgy thing with her mouth and she's like – 'you want sex so much, Damon, I'm going to sex you to death and–"

Stefan chortled. "That's an actual part of it? That line?"

"Sometime she doesn't even threaten me, she just starts ripping my pants off. With her teeth."

"Okay. No need for more detail. I've had enough of your confession to last, say, a decade. And she's not going to sex you to death. She's not gonna accidentally rip her bra off. There's no sprinkler system at the Grill, and the fire isn't going to be like some sexy firelight way off in the distance. The fire's gonna burn your ass to ash. Ash, Damon. Bonnie's not Katherine. She's not Elena. Remember when she lit your ass on fire that time with the Carnival? It's gonna be like that. Consider yourself warned."

Don't worry, and actual storyline is coming swiftly. This is Prologue 2.

Reviewww, please! Please! Not like I'm begging...