II.

EIGHT MONTHS

'Curiosity killed the cat,' was one of her father's favorite sayings.

'But satisfaction brought it back,' echoed in her mind, in a distinctly Damon-like voice.

That was why Bonnie was sitting in her car, idling just outside of the 'Welcome' sign that stood on the edge of town, where the highway led in anyone who thought to enter. Only, no one ever did. It was something she picked up on a few weeks back. Nobody new every seemed to visit; everybody knew each other, greeting one another by name, waving as they passed each other in the streets. That wasn't so unusual; she'd grown up in Mystic Falls, where everybody was familiar with each other. But they still had traffic, people passing through town for gas or visiting for a weekend or during the summer months. It wasn't like that here. And, considering she was fairly sure that this was an in-between world of some kind, a hold over between life and the oblivion, she wondered just how far it reached. Was the town isolated, or did it reach beyond the city limits? Could she travel? Take a plane somewhere? Or were they confined to this one small town?

It would be so easy. Just drive forward, see what else was out there, but instead, she continued to idle.

It was easy to forget that the world around her might not be real. Easy to get caught up in the normality of it all. There were seasons here, holidays that felt so realistic she could almost forget that none of it was real. Were the people that worked for her the phantoms of people who had died in the real world? Did they, like she and Damon, have any idea they were gone? That this was just a shadow of the world they'd left. She wouldn't know it from talking to them. They all seemed to accept this world as their own, as if they'd been there all their lives.

Sometimes she wished she could forget. She wished she could get lost in this world and let it become reality. She wished she could stop worrying about her friends back home; if they were okay, if one day she might turn around and see them walking down the street, unaware of who she was, just another face to add to the crowd. Sometimes she would see a flash of blonde hair or she would hear a laugh that sounded so like Elena's and she would whirl around, searching for them, only to find unfamiliar faces passing her by.

But she couldn't forget. She had to know.

With a shaking hand, she reached out and put her car into drive. Slowly, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator and drove forward, past the sign. She watched, brow furrowed, as the trees on either side began to blur, the road becoming a mottled gray color, like running paint. And then, in a blink, it was gone. Her car was idling once more, this time facing the town, on the other side of the 'Welcome' sign again. So that solved it then, there was no leaving, no life outside of this small town. They were confined to this area, no chance of exploring or seeing the rest of the world.

She should have been disappointed. And, in one way, she was. She wanted to explore. She wanted to have the option of packing up and leaving whenever she wanted, of leaving Small Town USA and instead going to see what the rest of the world had to offer. She'd never had the chance before, when she was alive, so this could have been her chance. But it wasn't. Because she died. She sacrificed herself for everybody else. Over and over and over again. And this is what it got her.

Bonnie smiled, letting out a hysterical little giggle, and then she dropped her face, forehead falling to her hands on the steering wheel, and she cried. She cried for the life she'd lost and the days she wished she'd been selfish enough to want a real future, all her own. She cried for the mornings she woke up happy that she wouldn't have to fight some new bad guy, that she wouldn't have to drain herself dry trying to keep her friends alive. She cried for her Grams' and her dad and even her mother. She cried and cried, until she was hoarse and tired and relieved. So damn relieved.

This was her life now. There was no changing it. No running from it. She had her store and her home and Damon. And she didn't know how long it would last, if one day she might just get ripped out of this world too, but for now, it was hers, and she was free and normal. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was safe and quiet and it had its moments; its fun, carefree, happy moments. She could live with that. For now.

TEN MONTHS

Damon was whistling as he walked into the house and tipped his sunglasses down his nose as he found a woman, equally beautiful, but not nearly as smart-alecky as Bonnie, standing in his kitchen. "Naomi," he greeted, shrugging his jacket off and looping his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. "Lemme guess, you've finally taken me up on my offer to elope."

Grinning at him from where she stood stirring a pot of heavenly smelling spaghetti sauce, Naomi shook her head. "Sadly, for you, I swore off marriage a long time ago. Don't let that stop you from asking though, I do like the ego boost."

Damon held a hand to his heart. "All my dreams, dead and buried, right here." He kicked his shoes off and made his way into the kitchen. "What am I supposed to look forward to now, huh? Who could live up to the Naomi-shaped hole in my heart?"

"Well, if she ever gets her head out of her work, I think Bonnie might be able to help you with that."

Stealing a slice of cheese off of a plate on the island counter, Damon popped it in his mouth and took a long look down the hallway, humming disapprovingly. "She's still working? She promised she was going to quit at noon and spend some time relaxing..."

"Oh, she did, for about an hour." Naomi frowned. "Then she invited me over and, one thing led to another, and—"

"Don't tell me…" He put his hands together in the prayer position. "Experimental lesbian kiss."

Naomi rolled her eyes at him. "You wish," she muttered, waving a dish towel at him. "We started talking about work and she got distracted, said she needed to recheck the stock. I went ahead and started dinner. She already picked everything up anyway. I know she said she was going to make you dinner tonight, but once she gets on a work tear, there's no talking her out of it," she sighed.

Damon nodded, turning on his heel and starting toward the hall. "You're staying for dinner, right?"

Shaking her head, Naomi tapped the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. "'Fraid not, handsome. I've got two hungry kids that should be home any minute now… Tell your girlfriend she owes me girl time that doesn't involve work." Undoing the apron from her waist, she tossed it to the counter and started for the coat rack by the front door. "Have a good night, Damon."

"You too. And hey…" He grinned. "You ever change your mind about marriage, you know where to find me."

She scoffed. "Honey, you couldn't handle me on your best day." With a bit of a hair flip, she turned and walked out the door, an extra swing in her hips.

Smirking, Damon returned to his task, making his way down the hall to the office where Bonnie spent entirely too much of her time. He leaned against the doorjamb and knocked his knuckles against the wall. "You about done in here? Your afterlife-bff just took off… She made what smells like a really awesome spaghetti sauce, too."

"Naomi left?" Bonnie looked up from where she was surrounded by various bottles. "I didn't get a chance to talk to her about the new batch of oils we got in."

"Oils?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "Like the fun kind?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes as she pushed up from the floor and gave her legs a shake from sitting for so long. "Yes, Damon, I like to keep the kinky massage oils right next to the foot odor powder." She walked past him into the hall and started toward the kitchen.

Damon followed after her, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how amazing her legs looked in the shorts she was wearing. "You know, I hear it's only good business to test out your own product from time to time…" He leered at her playfully. "Whattya say, Bon-Bon, want me to put my hands to work on your tense back?"

She scoffed. "Somehow I highly doubt you'd stick to just my back."

"I can't be held responsible for where else you hold tension." He shrugged. "I'm just here to help. Your friendly, neighborhood, handyman…"

Bonnie's mouth twitched with amusement. "Maybe some other time," she said, making her way to the pot simmering away. "Did Naomi say anything else before she left?" Before he could answer, she qualified, "That didn't have to do with you relieving my stress, her turning down your latest marriage proposal, or anything in that general ballpark."

He hummed, leaning a hip against the counter. "She said you needed to hang out again soon, preferably somewhere you wouldn't be distracted with work." He raised his eyebrows. "Thought we talked about you taking today off."

"No… I said I'd take a break. I didn't say I'd take the whole day off," she corrected, scooping out a taste-test of the sauce and licking her lips before she held the spoon out for him.

He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the spoon, slurping up the sauce and nodding approvingly.

Bonnie reached up to wipe at the corner of his mouth absently and licked the remaining sauce off her thumb. "There's too much to do. I just got in new merchandise and I'm not exactly sure where I want it to go… It's either clear out some of the old stuff or put in a new section, which…" She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't exactly have time for."

Damon shrugged. "I've got time."

She looked over at him, brow furrowed. "I know Peter mentioned you built the shelves originally, but that was the other you…"

"Other me, this me, doesn't change anything. You want shelves, I can build 'em." He pushed off the counter and made his way to the pantry, digging out the spaghetti noodles. "Just say the word and I'll get started building."

Bonnie stared at him a long moment as he walked back toward her. "Just my friendly, neighborhood, handyman, huh?"

He grinned down at her and tapped her nose with the spaghetti noodle box. "Exactly."

After a moment, she nodded. "All right, if you think you're up to it…"

"Definitely." He dug out a pot and filled it with water before joining her by the stove. "On one condition."

"Here we go..." she muttered under her breath.

"Take tomorrow off."

She blinked up at him. "What?"

"Take tomorrow off. Completely. Go do something fun, take Naomi with you, whatever, just get your head off of work for a while." He, rather dramatically, hip checked her out of the way to get their spaghetti noodles going then and Bonnie frowned, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed.

"That's it?"

"Mmhmm." He dusted his hands off and turned to look at her. "No work, no stopping by the shop, no going over inventory, none of it. Just a normal, relaxing day."

She tipped her head thoughtfully, staring up at him, and then, after taking a deep breath, she said, "Okay."

His mouth turned up at the corner. "Yeah?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Deal." She held a hand out for him to shake.

He let out a snort of a laugh, but he shook her hand all the same. Before she could let it go, he gave her a little twirl and pulled her into his side. "Now, what do you say you open a bottle of wine?"

"On it."

As she walked off, Damon smirked to himself, more than a little satisfied with the outcome. When he became so focused on making sure Bonnie didn't work herself to death, he had no idea, but reminding her to live a little was just up his alley.

ELEVEN MONTHS

Bonnie forgot sometimes, how charming Damon could be, how human he was. And he was, more than anything else. Here, in this world, he was flesh and blood. If she were to press her ear to his chest, she would hear the steady thump of his heart, long ago questioned to have ever existed. It was different now. Everything was different now. But they had adapted. They lived their lives and relied on each other and worked jobs they happened to really enjoy.

Leaving Damon to entertain her modest employee group —there were only five of them in total— Bonnie found herself wandering her store, moving down the aisles to make sure all the candles had their ribbons and labels facing front. She could spend hours here, lost in her inventory, making sure everything was just the way she wanted it. Time was lost to her, drifting away, absolute calm engulfing her as she paused to sniff a few candles she and Naomi had put out just that morning. The warm scent of pumpkin spice filled her senses. Thanksgiving was just around the corner and these ones in particular, along with mint and candy cane, were selling better than the rest. Her smile quickly dimmed, her lips turning down instead.

"Someone's mopey…"

She let out a sigh as his voice interrupted her thoughts and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Have they left?"

"Naomi said she had to get home to her kids, and since she carpooled with Kayla and Brandon, they went with her. Peter offered to close up, but I figured you'd stick around a while longer anyway, so he and Annette left." He walked toward her, his head cocked curiously and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "What's on your mind? You've been extra introspective today…"

She stared at him a moment, watching as he plucked a candle up from the shelf and gave it a sniff. Cinnamon. It was his favorite. She knew because they had a large collection at home and he always chose the cinnamon to light up. Nowadays, she found herself linking the scent with him. Cinnamon, leather, and red wine. She wondered if the cinnamon scent reminded him of anything in particular or if it was just a nice nod to the season. Even Damon could get sentimental.

"Just feels strange. Thanksgiving is one of those seasons you're supposed to spend with everyone who means something to you. Makes me thinks of Grams… Big family dinners, lots of homemade food, Caroline overdoing it with decorations…" She smiled sadly. "I miss them."

He hummed, nodding. "Well, I can't guarantee a family dinner, but we can do something, make our own traditions. I'm not a crafts person…" His lip curled a little, and she could only imagine his frustration as he was forced to make a table display, which only made her grin in amusement. "But I can handle the cooking if you want to do the rest."

"Yeah? Turkey with all the fixings?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure… Cranberry sauce, stuffing, candied yams, you name it, Bennett, and I can cook it." He tapped her nose with the end of his finger in a gesture that was becoming more and more affectionate over time. He grinned when she slapped his hand away and put the cinnamon candle back on the shelf. "You ready to go home or you wanna stay here? 'Cause I'm getting a headache from all the candle fumes."

"We can go." She put her own candle back, readjusting it so it was facing forward, and then moved out of the aisle, walking to the back office while Damon shut off the lights and checked the front door to make sure it was locked. The crime rate in their sleepy little town was basically non-existent, but that didn't stop him from being cautious. When he returned, she leaned into his hands as he placed her hand-knit shawl, a gift from Naomi, over her shoulders and gathered up her sales and inventory books. He took them from her hands and carried them under one arm as they left out the back door. She locked it up behind them before following him to their car.

"I picked up a few things for dinner tonight…" he told her as he pulled out of the parking lot. "A nice red wine to go with our pasta and some French bread."

Bonnie felt her mouth turn up faintly and let her head fall to one side as she watched him, his attention on the road until he felt the weight of her gaze. He turned toward her, a brow raised and a warm smile pulling at his mouth. "What?" he asked, a faint laugh in his voice.

She stared at him thoughtfully. "You like this, don't you?"

His eyes fell for a moment before he turned them back to the road. "What's not to like, huh? I'm alive, there's no crazy supernatural jerk out to kill us… everything's easy. Normal." He shrugged. "Boring sometimes, sure, but it could be worse…"

Bonnie hummed, nodding to herself, and then ran her hands over the lines of the books in her lap.

Damon, uncomfortable with the thoughtful silence, turned on the radio, twisting and turning the knob until he found something he liked; something loud enough to drown out the honesty of his words. Because he did like it. She knew he did. He might miss home, miss everybody they left behind, but he liked how normal his life was. He liked waking up at the crack of dawn and sharing breakfast with her before the honk of a horn told him Danny was there to carpool to work. He liked popping a loud kiss on her cheek before he left, calling out, "Have a good day, honey!" in a cheesy, exaggerated voice. He liked that he had a routine and someone to come home to and that his day wouldn't be interrupted by the next big problem. He was content. And maybe there was a little guilt in that, knowing who and what they left behind. But that couldn't change how he felt. And it couldn't change how she liked it too.

So she let herself sink into the passenger seat, she let the music on the radio soothe her, and she looked forward to the dinner Damon would make and the wine waiting on them. She looked forward to going home. Their home. Small enough for only two, for only them, and perfect for the exact same reason.

ONE YEAR

Bonnie frowned up at him. "You don't think this is a little weird?"

"What's weird about it? It's a milestone, isn't it? People celebrate milestones." He shrugged, handing her a few drinks to carry back to the table.

"I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to celebrate the day we died, Damon." She kept her voice low, her eyes darting around to make sure nobody had heard. The bar was packed, but either no one was paying them any attention or the music was loud enough that nobody could hear them.

Damon nodded his chin in thanks to the bartender and grabbed the necks of a few other beers between his fingers. "Was that in the handbook? I don't remember reading the chapter on what was and wasn't socially acceptable in the afterlife," he said to her mockingly.

Rolling her eyes, she followed beside him as they made their way back to the table where Danny, his girlfriend Carla, Naomi, Brandon, and his boyfriend, Chris, were all cluttered around a table, waiting on them. "You know what I mean…" She stared up at him, her brows hiked. "And what did you tell them anyway?"

"That you've been working your pretty little butt off and we wanted to have a night out for once. Not a lie, if you think about it. You spend five days a week in your store, and most of your weekends getting ready for the work week. Anybody ever tell you that all work and no play makes Bon-Bon a dull witch?" He pouted his lips at her and winked before she frowned in reply. "Come on…" he cajoled. "You need a night off, I need a night off, there's a karaoke machine in this joint, and we already paid for our drinks. What's a couple hours, huh?"

"Karaoke?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, and we're signed up to go any minute now, so put on your game face. We're gonna blow these amateurs outta the water."

Eyes wide, she whispered quickly, "We what?!"

As the song finished up on the stage— an off-tune rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, an entirely over karaoke'd song in Damon's opinion— a manager hopped on stage to take the mic back, half-smiling, half-grimacing, and said, "All right folks, it's Bonnie and Damon up next, singing… Whatta Man, Salt n' Pepa."

Bonnie turned toward him, her lips pursed. "Seriously?"

Damon grinned. Stopping by the table, he dropped the beers off with everybody, taking them from Bonnie's hands too.

Rubbing his hands together excitedly, he winked at the gathered group, who were already hooting and hollering in support, and then snagged Bonnie's fingers to pull her toward the stage.

"Damon," she growled. "We are not singing that. It's not even a duet!"

"Too late now, should'a said something earlier." He pulled her up the stairs, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he took the mic from the manager and turned, his arm wrapping around Bonnie's waist and pulling her in close. "Ready?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "What do you think?"

Unperturbed, he merely handed her the mic. "You get to start, so be sure to bring your A-game."

As the song started up, Bonnie let out a heavy sigh. She raised the mic to her mouth and looked to the screen, where the lyrics were written, waiting for her to begin. With a blink, she shook her head and, deciding to just go with it, opened her mouth to sing, "Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, what a mighty good man…"

Not the least bit ashamed, Damon gave her a spin, swaying happily to the beat, and, despite herself, Bonnie started to smile, laughing to herself before she launched into the first real verse.

So it was a weird thing to celebrate, being dead a whole year, but, all things considered, it was one of the calmest years she'd had in a while, and maybe she did deserve to have a little fun. Even excluding everything that happened when she was alive, she'd been working hard to keep her shop going and create some semblance of a normal life here. So what was one night of blowing off a little steam?

As it turned out, watching Damon spend the rest of his night, a little bit drunk and a lot eager to sing was, surprisingly, a lot more fun than she expected. She might just have to make it a regular thing.

…

Bonnie frowned as she stepped out of the back storage room of her store to find Kayla sweeping the floor. Closing and locking the door behind her, Bonnie carried the inventory book with her to the front till. "Hey," she said, offering a half smile when Kayla jumped, turning to see her. "Aren't you here a little early? You don't get off school for another hour…"

Kayla tugged her earbuds out and let them hang around her neck. "Oh, well, it was just Trig. I'm ahead in the homework anyway, so I figured I'd just come in early."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Yeah… Do your parents know you're here?"

Shrugging, she turned her attention back to her sweeping, her long dark hair falling in waves and curls, pulled over one shoulder. "Did you hear Miss Cora was planning on bringing in some homemade honey for us to sell?" she asked, changing the subject. "She said her bees are producing more this year than usual. That'll be cool."

Bonnie watched her curiously. "You know you can talk to me right…? If something's going on at school or home, we can talk about it. Any time you want."

Kayla glanced back at her over her shoulder, one of her long silver earrings swinging. She had silver studs and hoops pierced all along the shell of her ear. "Yeah, I know."

"Okay." Bonnie cast her attention back down to her books, even as she tracked Kayla's movements around the room. She couldn't help but be reminded of Elena when she looked at Kayla, and it wasn't just the long, dark hair or the olive skin. It was the way Kayla moved, how she waited for the burden on her shoulders to get to be too much before she shared it. The difference was that Kayla wore her emotional turmoil in her dark clothes and her piercings where Elena always tried to fit in and follow the latest fashion trends, presenting a 'put together' appearance even when her life was falling apart at the seams.

Finally, after more than twenty minutes of aimlessly walking around the store or stocking shelves, Kayla made her way back to Bonnie, picking at her chipped, maroon nail polish. "Did you always know you wanted to open up a shop like this?"

"What do you mean?" Bonnie wondered, laying her pen down and sitting back on her stool.

"Well, you moved her from New York, right? So you grew up in the city…"

Bonnie shook her head. "I grew up in a small town, a lot like this one, actually."

"So you went to the city to get away from it but then moved back?" Kayla's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Is that what you want to do?"

Kayla shrugged. "I don't know… I mostly just want to fit in. Kind of hard to do in a place like this."

"Why's that?"

"You ever just feel like you're completely different from everyone around you?" Kayla blew out a breath and shifted her feet. "I was always into weird things, I guess. I told my mom I was a witch when I was six. She told me I didn't know what it meant and that I was a princess." Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "You know what sucks about princesses…? They're not dragons."

"And witches are?" Bonnie's mouth turned up in a smile.

"Witches are strong and powerful. If they want fire, they can make fire, you know? That's what I want."

Humming, Bonnie nodded. "Well, you see, your first problem is that you think a princess can't be a dragon. Anybody can be a dragon. It's all about how you think, not about what you are. If you want to be strong, confident, you want to be your own person, you have to think that about yourself, everybody else will just follow in your example." Shrugging, she said, "My Grams used to tell me I could be anything I wanted to be. So I am. I don't always make the right choices, but I try to. I didn't always speak up, but I do now. I didn't always feel like I fit in, so I made a place for myself. And you should too. Just make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. You're not going to find yourself hidden somewhere else. You'll find you hidden in you."

Kayla half-smiled up at her. "So that's the big secret, huh? Accept yourself and fuck the rest."

"Maybe with less profanity, but… yeah. That's the secret."

Rolling her eyes, Kayla laughed under her breath, and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Okay. I guess I'll work on that… I've got a few years before I can hit the road anyway, right? Might as well figure out me while I'm at it."

"Sounds like a plan." Bonnie smiled. "Until then… How would you feel about stocking the vitamin section?"

"As long as it's not the foot odor remover, I'm your girl." Kayla walked off to the storage room with that and Bonnie smiled to herself. There was no guarantee their talk would fix anything, but she did like that Kayla saw her as someone she could trust. And it kind of felt good to dole out advice; she hadn't been able to do that in too long. A pang in her chest reminded her how much she missed Caroline and Elena, but she noticed it wasn't quite as strong as it had been more than a year ago. That was something, she guessed.

…

"I can't tell if you're being lazy or…" she trailed off.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Hey, reading happens to be one of my favorite pastimes."

"Okaaay…" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then why are you getting me to read to you?" she wondered.

"Quid pro quo, Bon-Bon. You read, I rub."

Bonnie glanced down to her feet, currently perched in Damon's lap, and then back at the book in her own. "Fine. But only because I had a very long day…"

He waved a 'get on with it already' hand at her before focusing back on her feet.

Bonnie cracked the book open to the beginning and started to read. The book he'd picked was one they both had agreed on, seeing as she didn't feel like getting into anything so dense her brain would start leaking from her ears. She also didn't want anything full of sex, however, and she wouldn't put it past him to pick one exactly like that just to bug her. Instead, they ended up going with his favorite, The Call of the Wild. In part because she'd wanted to read it since finding out it was his favorite, once upon a time thinking it would give her a peek into Damon's head. After this long, her reason for wanting to read it had changed. She felt like she already knew him better than she'd ever expected to and didn't need any help in figuring him out. Still, it was his favorite for a reason and she wanted to see what the appeal was.

She made it through half a chapter before he interrupted her. "Anybody ever tell you that you have tiny feet?"

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "I have normal feet."

"Normal for an exceptionally tiny person. Look at them. They're doll-like…" He gave one of her toes a wiggle. "Then again, you're tiny, so it makes sense."

She opened her mouth to argue but he grinned at her and pointed.

"That, right there, that chin tilt, you do that to make yourself look taller, don't you?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I do not," she scoffed.

But his smirk wouldn't let up and, despite wanting to brush him off, she was enjoying his foot rub, and perhaps even the book, too much to leave the room in a huff.

He rubbed his knuckles down the arch of her foot and seemed rather proud of himself when she wiggled in answer, squirming in her seat. "Admit you're tiny."

"No."

"Come on…" he cajoled. "You're what, five feet?"

"Five foot three," she said defensively.

His smirk only widened. "Tiny… little… bird," he said, tugging on a toe with each word before his hands swept up and circled her ankle, rubbing up the back of her calf, kneading as they went.

She bit her lip to keep an appreciative noise from leaving her throat and just watched him, looking far too satisfied with his deduction. She would give him that, if only because his hands were doing wonders for the pain of being on her feet all day. Just this once. He'd no doubt tease her about her short stature in the near future; she would put him in his place then. For now, she would get back to reading. She opened the book to where her thumb had kept her place and continued, all the while getting immersed both in the rhythmic feel of his hands and the intense book she read aloud.

…

Bonnie was mid-conversation with Carla when Damon's arm swept around her waist and pulled her backwards, into his chest. He swung her around so she was facing him and then began leading her around their back porch in a somewhat sloppy dance, one arm around her waist while the other raised her hand with his, linked together. His hair was messy, his smile was wide, his face was flushed, and his eyes were a little glazed.

"You're drunk," she said knowingly.

"Drunk, happy, same difference," he dismissed, giving her a little twirl.

She hooked her hand over his shoulder when she came to a stop. "And to think, you were the one who said he didn't want to have a barbecue…"

"I've come around to it." His eyes widened as he stared down at her. "Could be the beer, could be the burgers, who knows."

Bonnie snorted. "Yeah, or it could be that you're annoying our neighbor, and we both know how much joy you get out of pissing off Gladys."

He smirked then. "She is a crotchety old hag..."

"Damon," Bonnie admonished, pinching his shoulder.

"You know I'm right. I thought Tom was exaggerating, but she tries to bust me on everything. I took the garbage out last night, and she said I walked too loudly down the driveway." His eyebrows arched. "I'm a light walker, Bonnie. You don't spend a hundred and fifty years stalking prey and not learn how to walk lightly."

Folding her lips to keep her laughter hidden, she shook her head at him.

"What? What's that look?" he lowered their knotted hands and poked her cheek with his finger. "Are you laughing at me, Miss Bennett?"

She stared up at him, amused. "You know what you're doing?"

"Dancing?"

"Yes, that, horribly," she agreed. "But you're also making an archenemy out of our eighty year old neighbor…" She nodded. "You're so bored, you'll take anyone."

"One, she's seventy-eighty. Two, there aren't a whole lot to pick from, so sue me for settling. And three, don't defend her. She might not pick on you to your face, but she's not some kind old lady that evil Damon's making out to be the devil…" He frowned then, looking away darkly, his good mood rapidly fading. "Trust me."

"Hey," she said gently. When he wouldn't look at her, she slid her hand up his shoulder and squeezed the nape of his neck. "Damon."

Taking a deep breath, he adopted a smile and looked at her, dropping his face down so their foreheads were pressed together. "Do me a favor…"

"Within reason," she answered.

"Just dance with me, all right? We've got good tunes on, I've eaten my weight in red meat, the only people I like in this town are here, drinking all of my booze, and you… You look really pretty tonight, did I mention that?"

"You said something to that effect, yeah." She cocked her head. "I think you said 'hey, look at that, you do clean up nice.'"

"One of my better lines." His arm tightened around her waist and he danced them around in an oblong of a circle. "One song?"

"Two, if you're good."

He hummed, turning to rest his cheek against her hair. "I don't know how to be good."

Funny, she thought, that's what he'd been for quite some time now.

One song turned into two and then three before Naomi stole her away to talk shop and Damon soon found himself chatting with Brandon and Chris. The night wore on nicely, the barbecue eventually ending quite a bit later than anyone expected. Bonnie saw everybody out, hugging them goodbye and waving from the front door as they all told her they should do it again soon.

After Bonnie locked the front door, she found Damon in the back yard still, sitting in a patio chair, a beer in hand as he looked out over the yard, lit up with fairy lights strung along the fence.

Walking to him, she took a seat on the wooden arm of his chair and stole his beer for a small drag. "You have fun tonight?"

He hummed. "Not bad."

"Yeah?" She smiled down at him. "Are barbecues gonna be our thing? Barbecues and terrible karaoke."

"Speak for yourself, I'm awesome at karaoke," he said, reaching up to take back his beer.

"You're awesome at air-guitaring while I sing," she corrected.

"Every star needs an entourage." He tipped his beer back for a swig, his arm sliding around her waist. "I'm tired. We should clean up tomorrow."

"Sure," she agreed.

As he stood, he drew her up with him, keeping her close to his side as they stepped through the sliding glass door to the house. Moving down the hall to their bedroom, he said, "You know what?"

"Hm?"

"We should get a dog."

"Yeah?"

"A loud one."

Bonnie's mouth twitched. If this was how Damon wanted to play at still being 'bad,' she could live with it. "Sure. We'll look into that," she said, patting his chest comfortingly.

He might be a cute drunk, but they were not getting a dog.

…

"Hey! Say cheese!"

"What?" Damon looked over, confused, only to have a flash blur his vision. Blinking rapidly, he frowned. "Ow."

"Baby," Bonnie teased before plopping down beside him. In her hand, she was shaking a Polaroid picture and grinning at him. "I found it in the storage shed out back."

"And decided to blind me with it?" he snarked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "No… I'm gonna make a scrapbook. I used to make them when I was growing up. Me and Grams. I had one for me and Elena, me and Grams, me and dad… Now I can have one for me and you." Before he could snark at her, she handed him the picture she'd taken. It was a candid shot of him as he turned, but his mouth was turned up in an expectant smile as he looked up to meet her.

"Next time, shoot it from my good side."

"You have one?"

He smirked. "Ha. Ha."

Bonnie grinned at him and then scooted over on the couch and leaned her head in close to his. "Come on. This is your three second warning… Smile for the camera."

Damon put on an exaggerated grin, his brows hiked high, and all of his teeth on display. Bonnie elbowed him and it melted into something more genuine, which is when she hit the button to take the picture. When it popped out of the bottom of the old camera, Damon grabbed it before she could, giving it a shake. Slowly but surely, the picture began to show, and, he had to admit, they looked pretty good together. Happy and alive.

"Not bad, Bennett," he said, handing her the picture.

Standing from the couch, she replied, "Looks like you do have a good side." With that, she walked off down the hall, in the direction of her office, and he had to admit, he was kind of looking forward to seeing how their scrapbook turned out.

…

Bonnie would swear under penalty of death that she'd just seen Caroline Forbes, standing in the middle of the street.

In the middle of walking down the sidewalk with Damon, who had already finished his ice cream cone and was currently stealing bites off of Bonnie's, and all too regular occurrence, Bonnie had turned her head as her name was called. She spotted Annette across the street, a pretty Latina woman that, according to Naomi, had been working at the shop alongside them from day one. Annette was waving at her happily from where she walked in the opposite direction, holding the hand of her and Peter's son, four-year-old Jasper. Bonnie smiled in reply and raised her own hand to wave, which was when she saw Caroline simply materialize out of thin air. Blonde and pretty and so confused, standing in the middle of the street in a blue and white floral dress, eyes darting around but never quite landing on anything. Annette had already moved on, as if she hadn't seen it. In fact, nobody else seemed to find the current situation odd at all.

Bonnie stumbled to a stop, staring, slack-jawed, at Caroline. She whispered her name, choked and worried. Caroline wasn't quite corporeal; in fact, she was see-through, enough that Bonnie could clearly make out the store front across the road, but that didn't make her any less real. Bonnie lurched forward, the ice cream cone falling from her fingers, and before she could think better of it, she hurried toward the street. Saying her name, first in a whisper, and then louder, with more desperation, "Caroline… Caroline!" again and again, trying so desperately to catch her eye. But Caroline didn't hear her, didn't look at her, she just kept searching around, her mouth moving silently as she talked to… someone. No one. Not Bonnie, in any case.

A car horn screamed at her suddenly and Bonnie found herself yanked back toward the curb. She struggled for a moment, even as a car went screeching past, narrowly missing her, the driver shouting angrily through the window as he sped past. As soon as the car was gone, she found the street empty. No Caroline, corporeal or otherwise, to speak of.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Damon demanded, his arms wrapped tight around her.

"She's gone. She's gone, but she was there! Didn't you see her?" Bonnie wiggled out of his grip and pushed herself up, scanning the street, looking everywhere for any sign of her best friend. Pushing her hands back over her head, flattening her hair, she felt her heart hammer in her chest, and bit her lip as her eyes burned. Turning to face Damon, she stared at him desperately. "Tell me you saw her."

He stared at her, his brow furrowed. "The only thing I saw was you walking off into the middle of the street!" He was angry; his lips were pursed and a muscle ticked in his jaw. "You nearly got yourself killed."

"It was Caroline," she choked out, a tear tripping down her cheek. "I saw her."

He shook his head. "There was no one there."

"No, I—I know it was her!" She turned back around, looking out over the street, her eyes darting back and forth frantically. "Damon, I saw her…"

"Bonnie—"

"I've been friends with her since first grade!" she exclaimed. "I can tell you who her first crush was, what her favorite color was in fourth grade, Jesus, what day of the week it was she started her period. I remember because she had a slumber party on a Wednesday night, specifically so she could eat junk food and not feel bad about it. So don't look at me like I'm crazy. I know Caroline, and that was her!"

He stared at her. "Okay."

"I did!" she cried, her shoulders trembling. It was her. It had to be!

Sighing, Damon reached for her, his hands on her arms, tugging her back until she was pressed to his chest. He rested his chin on top of her head. "Okay, I believe you," he said.

He didn't. She knew he didn't. But that didn't stop her from taking comfort from him. She leaned back, relaxing against him, and let his arms wrap around her, just holding her tight, while she stared out at the road, at where Caroline had stood. She wondered what it meant. What she wanted it to mean. She stared, hoping something might change, that Caroline might reappear, but she didn't. Minutes passed and there was nothing but the passing traffic and the setting sun.

"Let's go home," she said, her voice quiet, defeated.

"You sure?" he wondered, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"Yeah." She nodded, offering a faint, empty smile.

He turned them around and started them down the sidewalk, keeping his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side as they walked. She looked back once, her heart aching as she found the street empty.

She'd seen her, though.

She swore she did.

[Next: Chapter Three.]

author's note: so I planned for an 'update every week' kind of thing, but this is a day late all the same. it was finished, i just didn't have the time to edit it, so sorry for the wait. someone asked in a review if the town was isolated, so i hope this cleared that up for you. there will be a lot of questions concerning where they are and what it means that will be answered as time goes on, including after they eventually make it back to 'life.'

I'm really, really excited to see how many people reviewed. I wasn't sure how many people would like this storyline but I've had so much fun writing it. This is all fun and fluff right now, but things will take a turn when reality comes knocking. still, the fluff is tons of fun as their friendship fluctuates and the romance and intimacy grows.

thank you all so much for reading! please leave a review; they're very encouraging!

- lee | fina