A/N: Couple of things before we begin.
I loved writing this chapter.
There is a Delena moment/scene but it's important to the plot. As I said, this story is all about the slow burn and that means obstacles aka Elena Gilbert.
Hope you enjoy and please do let me know what you think!
Bonnie stretches across her lap to press the home button on her iPhone. Again. It's ridiculous. You're being ridiculous. It hasn't even been a day. But... she misses him and that's the uncomfortable, strange truth of it all. Bonnie Bennett misses Damon Salvatore - and it's been less than twenty-four hours. Ridiculous.
He'd tried to invite her to stay at the Manor again last night, driving home from Whitmore in the darkness, her music this time, drumming softly against the windscreen.
''Damon...'' she began and his face scrunched up as if her uncertainty hurt him.
''I don't like you being there alone, Bon.''
She spoke to the blurred car-lights travelling parallel to them. ''I just need time to think about it.''
And if he had more to say, which, being Damon, was inevitable, it wasn't vocalised.
His Camaro pulled into her road and Bonnie tugged on the car door, swinging her legs on to the pavement and stretching to wave at him. Damon's eyes were narrowed.
''I'm fine,'' she reassured him. ''I can protect myself.''
''I have no doubt about that Bon-bon,'' he replied and stalled, blinking at the steering wheel. ''I just mean you're very persistent at staying alive.''
Liar. ''Compliments are hard, huh?''
His mouth curved into a smirk. ''Only for you, Miss Bennett.''
''Miss Bennett, so formal.''
Damon shrugged, amusement folded in the skin around his eyes as he said, ''I'll see you soon, Witchy.''
Reluctant to watch him drive away she retorted, ''You really can't get enough, can you?''
The vampire reached across the empty passenger and said ''Don't get cocky,'' before yanking it shut. Through the window, she caught his satisfied smirk.
Bonnie begins to scroll through her contacts list, a little ashamed at its size. Saving everyone's supernatural asses didn't allow a lot of free time to make friends. She hovers over Matt's name. Why not?
''Matt, hey,'' she begins.
''Bonnie, are you okay?'' He sounds nervous.
''Not everything is a life and death situation, believe it or not,'' she says dryly and Matt exhales with a low chuckle.
''I never know anymore.''
''Tell me about it,'' she pauses, ''What are you up to right now?''
''Nothing much, just at the Grill with a few guys from the squad. Wanna join?''
''Er...''
Sensing her hesitation Matt speaks again, ''We'll be here for a while so no pressure. Just come if you want.''
''Thanks, Matt.''
He hangs up and she's left staring at her phone again. She's never been a clingy person - not like Caroline, or even Elena, impatient for attention from their significant others, demanding it. And Damon's not even her boyfriend.
''Fine,'' she snaps out loud to the living room and clicks on his name.
I'm bored and want to get drunk. U in?
She flips her phone face down and distracts herself with mindless television, irritated by the developing inability to entertain herself without the damned vampire. Even more so when her phone pings and she grabs it, an unabashed grin at his reply.
Mystic Grill in twenty minutes. Line your Stomach.
It's a Friday evening and the Grill half-spills onto the pavement, smokers and friends warming their hands in the cold. Bonnie pushes through the clusters, scanning the tables for Damon and spotting a tipsy Matt instead.
"Bon," he cries, gesturing her over. "You came!" His hug is bear-like and she laughs, a little awkward. "Everyone this is Bonnie Bennett." She smiles at the men and one of them grins, patting the seat next to him.
"What can I get you, Bonnie?"
His eyes are pointed and flicker over her appreciatively and where is Damon. She searches the room for black hair and a smirk.
"Looking for someone?" the man says.
She turns to him, "A tequila rose would be great, thanks."
He looks amused but stands up, sliding his hand across her back as he climbs out the booth and walks to the bar. Thank you, next.
"Is that Damon?" Matt asks and she pivots, a warmth pooling at the vampire pushing his way through tables, and refuses to acknowledge how quickly it quells at Elena's laugh behind him. Damon notices her and curves an eyebrow, his eyes working their way around the table of men. Bonnie stands.
"Yup, I invited them," she smiles at him tightly but Matt's back in conversation, throwing his head back in laughter.
She feels a hand on her arm and the pointed eyes are back, a smile twisted in his face. Bonnie takes the shot and downs it. "Thanks," she says sweetly and the man's stare stretches behind her.
"Who's that?"
Sure enough, Damon is making his way towards them, glaring at the off-duty policeman. His hand is on Bonnie's elbow in an instant. "Excuse me, but Bonnie has prior-arrangements."
The man looks at her in surprise. "Is this your man?"
"No," Bonnie says quickly as Damon mutters, "Not a man" and yanks her away.
"Creep," he says darkly, his jaw clenched.
"He's harmless," she says, "but thanks."
Damon drops her arm and nods. Elena waves at her from the table and Bonnie grins. Just have fun. It's not hard.
Stefan places the first round on the table with a smug smile. They drink to peace at last, then again, to survival. On the third round, Damon looks down at her and says, "To coming back to life, Bon-bon." And the absurdity of it all makes her laugh, makes them all laugh. Elena snakes a hand around Damon's neck and he leans back into her touch, eyes closed for a moment.
Bonnie asks Stefan if he wants another drink.
/
With devilish intrigue, Damon's gaze traces the brunette's slumped form. Bonnie Bennett is drunk. Very.
"More drinks," Elena announces, sliding another Bourbon and Vodka lemonade towards him and the half-dead witch.
He smirks, raising the drink to his lips. "Not sure Bon will be needing that."
At this, Bonnie revitalises, just, pushing up from the table and reaching for her drink. "I can make my own decisions, thank you very much," she snaps. At least that's probably how she meant it.
"You sure about that, missy?" Damon raises an eyebrow, "You're just a littleeee bit intoxicated already."
Bonnie sighs, shaking her head dramatically. "I'm Fineeeee… Silly, silly, vampire." She mutters that last bit and he looks to Elena in entertained surprise. She's eyeing her friend wearily.
"Has Bonnie ever been drunk like this before?" Stefan asks. Of course, the fun police.
"I'm sorry," the Witch begins, her words falling in a drunken stumble, "It's not easy being wasted saving vampire lives." She frowns, "Did that make sense?"
"Not even remotely," he grins.
"Huh." She wobbles on her chair and Stefan places a hand on her back.
"I've got you," he assures her and Bonnie whips around to smile at him.
"You're so nice, Stefan Savadoor." With a smirk she adds, "I chose well to fuck you", and Damon spits out his drink.
Taking it as her cue to intervene, Elena touches his shoulder and whispers, "I'm going to bring the car closer."
"Probably a good idea."
Stefan's forehead folds in confusion. "Damon, what the hell did she mean?"
Bonnie snorts, "It was a gameeeeee. Fuck, marry, kill." She shifts her blurred stare to Damon for confirmation and squints. "Am I being embarrassing?"
Adorable, actually.
"You're always embarrassing, Bon-bon."
She animates suddenly, knocking over her glass and giggling at the mess. "Damon's so mean to me, Steven, I mean, Stefan." At this she laughs harder, her shoulders shaking the table. "Imagine if you were called Steven… and Damon was-" more laughter "- Derek or something."
His brother chuckles now, shaking his head at Bonnie in disbelief whose own head rolls sleepily to grin at him.
"Derek?" Damon interrupts, eyebrow raised.
Bonnie studies him for a moment, wide-eyed, chewing on her lip. "Nahhhhh, you're too sexy for Derek. It's not a very sexy name is it?"
Ah. She's a flirty drunk.
Stefan catches his eye and mouths 'water' over Bonnie's head. Damon nods, fascinated by Bonnie's slipping smile. She frowns as if trying to catch it.
He stretches on the chair. "You know Bon-bon, if you wanted to flirt with me, you didn't have to get smashed." He's provoking her, he knows, but it's too easy when she's like this. And Damon Salvatore is never one to waste an opportunity.
Even in her intoxication, she manages an eyeroll. "Egomaniac," she slurs, then smiles to herself, evil. "Derek the ego maniac."
"Thought you said I was too sexy for that?"
He's suddenly aware of how close she is, leaning towards him on the table, her fingers stretching a breath away from his. She rests her head on her palm and looks up at him, her eyes wild. "Derek the sexy vampire," she whispers, and he can't focus on anything but the finger trailing up his sleeve. Damon swallows and Bonnie suddenly blanches, her face pale.
"Bon?"
And then she's sick all over his jacket.
/
Sun tugs angrily on her eyelids before she acquiesces, groaning with the effort of accepting the day. Fuck, her head is pounding. The room spins as she digests it – dark wood walls, velvet curtains, an overcrowded bookshelf. Where…? Last night begins to return in threads. The Grill, Matt, drinking, a lot, Damon… Oh FUCK. Damon. She springs from the covers and almost blacks out, the dizziness pushing her back into bed. Okay. No movement. Got it. Various beverages swim across her mind and she groans again, pressing a palm against her forehead and willing it to shut up. She remembers being sick on his jacket. Then out the window of his car. Then in the bathroom? Bonnie, you absolute mess.
A knock on the door interrupts her self-loathing spiral. Please, please be Elena.
But of course, Damon is in the doorway a grin in his words. "Morning, sunshine. Well, afternoon."
"Damon, I am extremely fragile right now," she warns, her voice a croak from under the covers.
"Yikes, you sound awful." He peers at her, "And look it too."
She slams her eyes shut, rolling away from him. "I'm so embarrassed. Your jacket…"
"Admittedly, that was definitely not the highlight of my evening."
"Do I even want to know what was?"
His pause worries her and she spins towards him, much too fast. "Shit me, this is actual death."
"Thing is Bon-bon, any other college student is allowed to say that but you, have actually experienced death," he smirks, clearly impressed with his wit. "As for drunk Bonnie… she certainly surprised me."
"Well, don't get used to her because she is never coming out again. The consequences are not worth it."
He's looking at her too curiously and she yanks the covers over her head, muffling her words. "I didn't cry, did I?"
She feels him shift, the floorboards sighing. "Nope, no tears."
Good.
"You were just very… flirtatious."
That's worse.
Something about Steven and Derek flit across her memory but she struggles to align faces with the names. Were they Matt's friends?
"Gave me a nice ego boost actually…"
Wait.
"Derek the sexy-"
"And goodbye, Damon," she says, summoning enough magic to push him out the room. His laughter carries through the door – obnoxious and full. He is never going to let her live that down. Ever.
Right now, though, she needs food and water but standing up feels near impossible, let alone making it to the kitchen. Hating alcohol with a renewed vengeance, Bonnie scrambles about for her phone only to find it on the floor by her crumpled jeans which, coincidentally, she doesn't remember taking off. On the screen are several messages: Elena, asking if she's awake, Stefan, hoping she's okay, and Matt, amused by her drunken state. Ignoring all, she scrolls to Damon's name and hits call.
"I'm sorry but Damon is unavailable right now due to being rudely witchified."
"Damon, please, I need food and water," she near begs.
"Oh really?" She imagines the cocked eyebrow, a smirk cutting lines in his cheek.
"I'll owe you one," she hurries.
He pauses, "Make that two. For vomming on my jacket."
Bonnie cringes. "Fine just please."
"So needy," he sighs. "I'll get you some toast."
Several painful minutes later, he's pushing open the door, a tray in hand, and Bonnie almost moans, biting her lip in anticipation, practically salivating. Damon raises both eyebrows. "I'm seeing all new sides to Bonnie Bennett."
They'd drank together in the prison world, a little wine drunk here and there, Damon almost tipsy. But the empty reality of their imprisonment sent any mirth plummeting into despondency and more often than not, Bonnie just fell asleep faster, curled on the Salvatore couch. Last night was dangerous territory, her drunk self filterless, perhaps even lucid. She glances at Damon, placing the tray on her lap. Too dangerous.
"Your highness," he says dryly and Bonnie tries to smile.
"Thank you… and for looking after me."
He looks surprised, "Do you remember?"
She reddens. "Some of it."
Damon wiggles his eyebrows and Bonnie scowls. "You're the worst." She bites into her toast, "And the best."
The vampire's eyes dance with amusement. "I'll leave you to it, Bon-bon."
/
"How is she," Elena asks from the couch. Her hair, hanging in a loose braid over her shoulder, falls limp against her back when she stands to hug him. Damon inhales.
"Extremely hungover." He finishes with a quiet smirk, "And embarrassed."
"I think you're right," she says in to his neck, "about Bonnie. I'm worried about her."
Damon pulls away. "She just needs to stay occupied, that's all."
"With drinking?"
"Well, no. That's not exactly the healthiest lifestyle choice… I don't know, with friends. The people she cares about. The people that care about her."
He searches his girlfriends' eyes but they shift to the ground. "Like you."
"Elena?" he probes softly.
"You've been spending so much time together recently I… I don't know, I guess I feel left out."
He sighs. "We were dead together, Elena, things are different now but," his whisper pulls her eyes to his, "Bonnie is still your best friend. And you're still my girlfriend. Okay?"
She blinks up at him, suddenly playful. "Okay," and tugging him closer she breathes, "I just want my sexy vampire boyfriend." He pushes away the image of Bonnie's drunken whisper and kisses his girlfriend.
Of course, Stefan is there again and Damon pivots, "It's like a damn sit-com with you, brother."
"It's my house too, Damon," he retorts. "How's our drunken friend?"
Elena lets her hand fall down his arm, chasing the outline of his sleeve and Bonnie is there, completely wasted, doing the same. What the hell? He frowns, directing focus to his brother. "Near dead by the looks of it… I should probably go and check on her again."
"Oh, wait." Stefan digs around in his pocket, "Can you give her this?"
Damon flips the ID over in his hand. Definitely not your best picture, Bon-bon. "Sure," he nods at them both and bounds up the staircase, practically two at a time. Something about irritating hungover Bonnie makes it his new favourite hobby. That, and watching her say whatever the hell she's thinking whilst under the influence. But the witch is curled away from him, her hair barely visible in the cotton cloud she's erected around her small frame. A part of him wants to wake her up, tease her some more, but he sighs and gently pulls the door shut. You've gone soft, Damon Salvatore.
"Well she's either asleep or actually dead," he announces to the living room.
Elena frowns. "Are you sure? She's just texted me."
"Saying what!?"
"She wants me to drive her home."
He speaks immediately, "I can do that. I don't mind."
But Elena's lips curl inward, awkward. "She er, I think she wants me to."
Huh. Damon re-arranges his confusion to form a smile, however rigid. "Sure. I'll see you later." He feels Stefan's silent judgement, hears his little mind connecting dots. I know what you're thinking and stop it.
/
The drive back to Grams is rough. Her eyes are closed, head pressed back into the chair, willing the chilled breeze to cut into the pounding and blow it away.
"That bad?" Elena asks.
"Entirely self-inflicted," Bonnie sighs.
Her friend hums. "To be fair, you're always going to have a disadvantage drinking with vampires."
"Ugh." She tilts to face Elena, squinting in the sunlight. "Apparently, I was a flirty drunk?"
Bonnie observes the other woman's mouth twitch. "Stefan did mention something about that."
"At least he's a gentleman about it. Damon is definitely…" she drifts off, reacting to Elena's sudden distant stare. "Not that I was flirting with Damon. That's just… gross." It sounds as lame in the air as it did in her mouth. She changes the subject, "When do you think you'll go back to Whitmore?"
She softens slightly. "I'm not sure yet. It seems weird, going back there, after everything."
The last time she'd been at Whitmore was under Alaric's compulsion, any memory of Damon evaporated. Bonnie had been torn between friends – Elena or the person she'd grown to not just tolerate, but enjoy, their company. She'd spend hours sometimes, doing everything in her power to make him laugh; his melancholia both irritated and devasted her.
"You want her back that badly?" she'd snapped at him.
"Of course."
"Well then fight for it."
And slowly, that Damon arrogance returned.
"What about you?" Elena asks, cutting the engine.
Bonnie shrugs. "I need to think about it."
She hugs the vampire tightly in thanks, Elena curling her arms around her back and for a moment it's as if nothing has changed. Standing alone in her Grams hallway, however, she is reminded: everything has.
Her phone pings and Damon has sent her a video. She looks at her glazed eyes in the thumbnail and instantly decides against watching it, messaging him instead:
Sorry again about your jacket.
Damon's reply is almost instantaneous.
Nice sleep?
She doesn't respond.
