A/N: Okay, so lots happens this chapter. More will be happening in chapters to come. Bonnie will be figuring out what she is soon and coming into her powers. Reviews are love.

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF, THE VAMPIRE DIARIES, OR THE CHARACTERS.

Chapter Four:

My phone rang and I excused myself. Peter, Stiles and Derek kept arguing about which Batman movie was the best. Personally, I think Peter was more interested in the villains, than Batman, but to each his own.

"Hey Dad," I answered, meekly. I never really know what to expect with him. I can't help but be nervous.

"Hello Bonnie, how is the house coming?" He asked me, expectantly.

"Every room is finished, except for yours. I even go the garage done." I told him, trying to keep my voice even.

"That's my good girl." He sounded pleased. That's good, at least. "I knew a little heavy lifting wouldn't kill you." He added.

"Actually, Peter and his nephew helped with the garage. I think I got everything the way you wanted it." I told him the truth. I didn't want him to find out that I had help from someone else. I didn't see that ending well.

"You're telling me that you couldn't even handle doing what I asked you to do, without running to the first person you met for help? Are you really that lazy?" His tone turned cold in an instant. I swallowed back my tears and took a silent deep breath.

"No, Dad, that's not what I'm saying. Peter offered to help. He said that he didn't want to put any unnecessary added stress on you. He said that you seemed like a busy man. He seemed to be really impressed, by your stature." I lied. My dad didn't say anything right away. I knew he was thinking about what I had just told him. I just prayed that he would take the bait and my lie would work.

"Well, I suppose I don't see the harm in that… Bonnie, I know that I asked you not to unpack my room and I appreciate that you followed my instructions, but I would appreciate if you could wash my bedding and the other bedding in the house. I'm sure they got dirty during the move." He requested. It sounded like a simple favor, but if I didn't get it done, I knew that there would be hell to pay. I really didn't want that.

"Of course Dad, do you need me to do anything else?" I asked him.

"Can you pick up some groceries? You know what I like. I'll transfer the money into your account. I'm sure that Peter won't mind showing you where to find the local market. Just don't do anything stupid." He ended the call. I stared at my phone, before putting it in my pocket. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. He always tells me not to do anything stupid. Does he really think that little of me? This feels like a trick. I don't know how, but it does. And I know better than to go against my father's wishes.

"Hey, everything okay?" Stiles asked me, walking into Peter's foyer to check up on me. I looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. I think moving and everything is finally hitting me. I still have more to do at the house. I should really be going." I told him. Stiles looked disappointed, but nodded, all the same.

"Okay, but seriously, if you ever get bored just text me and you can meet up with me or me and my friends and we'll entertain you." He assured me. He held his hand out for my phone. I handed it over and he fiddled with it for a moment, before calling himself with it. "Now I have yours." He grinned. I laughed.

"Leaving so soon, sweetheart?" Peter asked me, walking over, followed closely by Derek.

"Yeah, I'm really behind in laundry. I don't want it to take all night." I told him. That wasn't a complete lie. "It doesn't have to be today, but would you mind going with me to the grocery store? My dad told me to ask you. You can just point me in the right direction. I'm sure it won't be too hard to find." I joked, lamely.

"We can go later tonight, if you like. I have a couple errands to run, away." Peter gave me a sly smile. I tried not to blush. "I'll call you in a bit." He promised, before hugging me. His lips hovered a hair from mine, before he pulled away.

"It was really nice meeting you guys. Thank you, again, for all your help today. You're seriously the best." I thanked Derek and Stiles. Stiles just beamed at me sheepishly and Derek gave me a shadow of a smile and looked a little uncomfortable.

I headed home and decided to start washing my Dad's bedding first. I stripped his bed of his linens and comforter. I loaded them into the washer and got it going. I tackled the dishes and washed Peter's wine glasses by hand. I need to get these back to him, before my dad gets back. I'm afraid to even think about how bad his reaction would be, if he got back and found these here.

After the dishes, I went upstairs and started to organize my closet. It didn't take me very long. If I try to make sure that everything is close to perfect, then it'll give my father less to be angry over, at least in theory.

By the time I was done with my closet, it was time to switch the laundry over. I started washing the throw blankets, while my father's things dried.

My phone rang and I jolted awake. I fell asleep on the couch. I answered the call, sleepily.

"Hello," I practically whispered, fighting to stay awake.

"Hello sweetheart, sorry it took me so long. I had a few things I needed to get done around the house. Would you like to go to the store? We could always go in the morning." Peter offered. I thought over his proposal. If we go tonight, then I can probably finish washing all of the bedding.

"Tonight is fine. I just need to switch over the laundry and then we can go." I told him, dragging myself off of the couch and over to the laundry room. I pulled my dad's bedding out of the dryer and replaced them with the blankets in the washer.

"Do you want me to come to you?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's fine. The door is unlocked. I need like five minutes, before I'll be ready to go." I told him, before hanging up. I started the dryer, before carrying the bedding in my arms upstairs. It didn't take me long to make my father's bed. I went into my room and grabbed my bedding and my dirty clothes' hamper. I managed to carry everything downstairs, without dropping anything. That's an accomplishment in my book. Gravity is not my friend.

"Do you need any help?" A voice surprised me. I jumped and dropped everything in my hands and started to fall forwards, but hands steadied me. I held my hand to my chest and tried to steady my breathing, while looking up at Peter.

"Give me a heart attack – why don't you?" I mumbled. He looked amused and apologetic in equal measure.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He apologized.

"Don't sneak up on me." I scolded him, before bending down to pick up the laundry that littered the floor. Peter helped. He took the laundry hamper from my hands and took it to the laundry room for me. I picked up the blankets and followed him. I tossed my bedding into the washing machine and started the cycle, before glancing over at Peter. He's been watching me. "What?"

"Is it a crime to stare at a beautiful woman?" He responding. I blushed and refused to look at him, any longer.

"Let's just go." I told him.

"Are you upset with me?" He asked, ignoring my request. I shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the laundry room. I headed over to the front door and I slipped my feet into a pair of flats and grabbed my purse.

"I just don't like being scared." I admitted, quietly.

"I'll do my best not to do it again." He told me, sincerely. I nodded. He took my hand in his and brought it his lips, before using it to pull me forwards. His hands settled on my waist. "Am I forgiven?" He asked me, softly. I nodded. He gave me a small smile, before touching his lips to mine. It's getting harder and harder not to get used to kissing Peter. Kissing Peter is like… magic.

We both had carts, as we walked through the relatively vacant market. The past couple of days with Peter have felt strangely domestic. That's not even the weird part. The weird part is that I've enjoyed it. I can easily see myself settling down with Peter, maybe one day. I think we'd get along just fine in a domestic life, somewhere. That's what's throwing me off. Who is this guy?

"What else do you need, sweetheart?" Peter asked me, pulling me from my reverie.

"Chocolate," I told him, honestly. He cracked a smile and it turned into a full-on grin.

"Chocolate?" He echoed. I nodded.

"Females and chocolate basically go together." I informed him. He shrugged.

"I have so much to learn." He mused.

"I'll teach you." I teased him. We walked down the candy aisle and I grabbed two bags of Midnight Milky Way miniatures and put them in my cart.

"Is that it?" Peter inquired. I nodded. He perused the aisle and added Swedish Fish to his cart.

"Good choice."

"Thank you."

"That should be it for me. Do you need anything else?" I asked him, softly. He looked thoughtful, for a moment.

"A few bottles of wine – it seems that a few of mine have been enjoyed, already." He smirked. I blushed and shook my head. Do you men ever grow up? I mean, actually grow up? I swear, they're all children.

I giggled as I sipped my wine. Peter laughed with me. He was telling me about the lacrosse coach at Beacon Hills High School.

"I can't wait to meet him. Are you sure that he's even real?" I asked him. He just nodded and polished off his glass.

"Stiles is on the team. So are some of his friends." Peter supplied. That explains how Peter would know. It's so hard to picture Stiles playing lacrosse, though. He's as clumsy as I am and there is literally no hope for me.

"Stiles is so great." I mused, as Peter gave me more wine.

"And not so emotionally or socially constipated, like my nephew?" Peter guessed. I cackled. It's weird how comfortable I feel at Peter's. It's impeccably clean and tastefully decorated. It suits him.

"I like Derek." I shrugged.

"He's worried I'm going to corrupt you." Peter sighed. My eyebrows rose, as I drank a bit of my wine.

"And are you?" I asked him.

"I think it's you, who is going to corrupt me." Peter disagreed.

"How am I corrupting you?"

"I always want to do the right thing, while I'm around you." He whispered, bringing my lips to my temple. I closed my eyes as he placed a soft kiss there.

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Sometimes, it is." He breathed. He's so hard to read sometimes. My phone started going off. I squinted at the clock across the room. It's almost two in the morning. What could my father possibly want now?

"Hello?" I asked curiously.

"Bonnie, good, you're up." My father said loudly.

"Yeah, I just finished putting the last load of laundry in the dryer." It wasn't a complete lie. I had, about ten minutes ago, before we moved things over to Peter's place.

"Good, good, thank you. Did you get the groceries?" He asked me.

"Yes and I got you those protein shakes that you like." I told him.

"Perfect. That's my girl. I'll be home tomorrow night around eight. Have dinner ready. I'm going to stay with Camilla this week. I don't think you meeting her would be a good idea. I can't have anything messing this up. Do you understand?" He asked me, coolly.

"Yes," I replied, weakly.

"Good." He hung up. I sighed and set my phone down. By the way that Peter was looking at me, I knew that he had heard the entire conversation.

"Is he always like that?" Peter asked me. It was too late to play dumb.

"Most of the time," I nodded, before finishing my glass. Peter refilled and looked at me, like I was about to break. "I'm okay." I whispered.

"Are you really?" His concern seeped into his voice and touched something inside of my uncomfortably. I shifted in my seat. I don't know how to handle any of this.

"Sure," I lied.

"We can talk about something else." He offered.

"Okay." I agreed. Peter started telling me about Derek's boy band stage. But, I mean, didn't we all have one? I guess Peter has a tape of Derek getting down with his bad self, dancing along with an N*Sync music video. I could only pray that I'd be able to see it one day. I doubt that Stiles would ever let him live it down, if he ever found out. "Does Stiles know?" I asked him. Peter smirked and shook his head.

"I'm thinking that it'll make for the perfect wedding gift, one day. I think playing it at their reception would be grand. Don't you?" He asked. I giggled.

"I do."

"You should do that more often." Peter commented. I looked over at him, confused.

"What?"

"Smile, laugh, both," he breathed, before bringing his lips to mine. I couldn't help myself, when I clung to him. He picked me up, easily. I knew that we were heading to his bedroom and I didn't care. His lips trailed along my neck and I shuddered against him. He moved his hand up my shirt and I didn't stop him. We pulled apart long enough for Peter to take off his shirt and help me with mine. I reached up for him and kissed him with renewed wanting. He clutched me to him. He laid me on my back and started kissing my shoulder, before slowly moving down.

He stilled his movements and moved away from me. I sat up and realized that he was staring my torso. How could I have been so careless? I have more than a few bruises there that I can't explain. He's not going to believe I'm that clumsy. I rushed off of the bed and scrambled to find my shirt. I jumped, when I felt Peter's fingers on my bruises. I turned to slap them away.

"Don't," I warned him.

"He does that to you?" He asked me, quietly. He had a murderous look in his eyes. I shook my head, still trying to deny it.

"No, I just had an accident a few days ago. It's nothing. I should go. I've got to go." I moved past him and left his room. He caught me by my arm and pulled me back to him.

"Don't lie to me." He looked me in the eyes and I felt the unflinching way that he cared. I don't know how, he barely knows me. We barely know each other.

"It doesn't matter. Okay? He's my dad. I'm not eighteen. I can't leave, even if I wanted to. Just drop it." I told him, before going to the kitchen to grab my things, as fast as my legs would take me.

"I keep my spare key in the potted plant hanging on my porch. If you ever need a safe place to escape to, come here." He called after me. I froze.

"Why?"

"I don't want your father to kill you, before you've had a chance to really live. You don't even know what you are."

"What do you mean what I am?" I asked him. He didn't say anything more. "Just keep this to yourself, okay? He can't find out that you know or that I told you… or that we're… whatever this is. He'll… Just don't. Okay?" I asked him. He looked grim, but he nodded, anyway. I walked home, knowing that it would be a miracle if I would be able to sleep at all tonight.