A/N: Deadlines are over, yay! I've missed writing for Bamon so much…

The humming drifted from the kitchen. Stefan recognised it immediately - 'The Eye of The Tiger', his brother's favourite I'm-in-a-great-mood song. He walked further into the corridor and stuck his head round the doorway, very amused. Damon was dancing, sliding around the floor in socks, and honestly, it was a little camp. He cleared his throat; the vampire pivoted.

"What's got you dancing?"

Damon ran a hand through his hair, masking embarrassment with the usual sarcasm. "Just enjoying being alive – well, dead."

"Vampire joke. Funny," Stefan deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe. He was desperate to just ask the question, then drink up the reaction in all his shipper glee, but, unlike his dream counter-part, and eclectic entourage (Ms Cuddles included), he needed to be subtle. "Seriously, Damon, what's happened?"

His brother quirked an eyebrow. "Your wife happened."

"What!?"

"Relaxxxxxx. I'm not trying to steal your girl. Again."

Stefan folded his arms. Asshole. "Damon."

"She just texted me about the cheeky vacay she booked, that's all."

"Cheeky… vacay?"

Damon sighed, "Mini-break? National Park? Cabin? She really doesn't tell you anything, huh?" That point seemed to please him.

"Come to think of it, they did mention something about going away last night."

"They?"

"Yeah, Caroline and Bonnie."

If Damon were a dog, his ears would have shot forward. "Bonnie went to yours last night?"

"Yup."

"Huh. That's… interesting. She said she was sick."

The tension was almost too much and he had to physically bite his lip from blurting: BonnieturneddownajobattheNewYorkTimesforyou! Instead, he shrugged, looking down at his new vans (a whim purchase, highly unpopular with his wife but hey, being newly human calls for some changes in style, right?).

"Did she seem okay?"

Stefan lifted his eyes. "Yeah she was… great actually."

"Oh."

And fuck it, he went for the big guns. "I assume she told you about her new job?"

Damon's eyes widened and clouded at once, and he would have regretted it… if it didn't mean he could say, "Not the one in New York, the one here."

"What job in New York?" His brother's question was sharp and Stefan channelled his inner Elijah, effortlessly cool, effortlessly handsome.

"You know, the one at the New York Times."

"No, I don't know. Why the hell would Bonnie turn down a job there? That's her dream."

For love. For youuuuuuuuu. Kai's voice floated around his mind and shit, that dream really did affect him. He paused, careful to make the best decision. Or, the fanboy one.

"She said that Mystic Falls was home."

And wow, did his brother look damned near ready to confess his secret. His eyes grew practically spherical, unblinking, and that smile, pinching at the corners of his mouth, made Stefan damned near ready to confess his.

A Bamon fanfare – Silus on trumpet – erupted in his mind, all purple and red and shouts of I fucking knew it from various corners, and did Caroline still have that therapist's number?

"Why are you smiling at me?"

Stefan blinked. "I wasn't. Why were you?"

"I wasn't."

Oh, the sweet torture of denial.

/

"So, Damon and Bonnie are meeting us at the airport-"

"- yes, and then we have two hours before our flight."

Caroline winces, "Sorry, manic mode."

Stefan pulls the trunk shut. "I'm very used to it, Mrs Salvatore."

Hawaiian shirt forbidden, diary safely packed and Bamon - he almost said that out loud, earlier - travelling from Whitmore (Bonnie had to get a referral or something from one of her old tutors), they're ready.

"Okay, everything we need to buy when we land," his wife doesn't wait for acknowledgement, "Wine, red and white, good to have selection, Whiskey for Damon, blood bags, obviously, marshmallows, bagels, celery sticks-"

"Caroline?"

"Yes?"

"Airport parking lots are a bit stressful; would you mind…?"

"Not overloading you with information? I guess not."

Twenty minutes, and two angry pensioners, later, Stefan's successfully manoeuvred the car into a space, and Caroline resumes her mental brainstorm. Bonnie and Damon are already in the baggage line when they arrive.

"Parking was a nightmare," Stefan says, feeling, and sounding, like a suburban dad. Physically, he's still seventeen, but in moments like this, he almost forgets about all the I-was-born-in-1847 stuff.

Caroline prods the other woman's backpack. "Wow, Bon, no suitcase."

Bonnie shrugs, "I learned to pack light, I guess."

"World traveller over here," Damon smirks.

The flight desk calls 'Next' but he's too busy watching his brother help Bonnie out of her mammoth backpack and place it on the conveyor belt.

It's obvious Bonnie adores airports. Probably because she loves people (and Damon), and when he and Caroline return with coffees, she's sitting on a bench playing a game of 'Guess Where' with his brother.

"What about them?"

Damon follows her finger and says, "Siberia."

Bonnie laughs, "Siberia!?"

"Maybe Russia. Hard to tell."

"Come on, play seriously."

"I am playing seriously! People go to Siberia, Bon-bon."

She narrows her eyes, sceptical. "Can you even fly that far from here?"

"Fine. New York."

Damon looks at her, challenging, and Stefan holds his breath.

"New York it is."

A heaviness drapes over them, all of them, Stefan included. But Caroline, completely oblivious, says, "Oh, now she is definitely going to Paris."

Stefan catches his brother in the restroom, frowning at himself in the mirror. Damon speaks to his reflection, "Does this piece of hair look grey to you?"

"Damon, you're vampire, you can't-"

"Grow old, yes, yes, I know," he sighs, flapping his hand, "But explain this."

He squints at the strand pinched between his brother's fingers, dark as ever. "Yeah, I don't see anything."

Damon thrusts his face closer to the mirror, scowling and stretching his skin like a woman debating whether to get Botox. He half expects him to turn around and say "don't you think, just a little bit to smooth out the wrinkles" but really, Damon's just anxious. And when he's anxious, he resorts to vanity (although actually, he quite often resorts to vanity).

"Look, Damon, I know flying isn't the easiest for you…"

"That was years ago, Stefan. I'm fine now."

"Really? I mean, you used to compel the pilot."

"Yes. I'm fine. Now did you come in her to shit or just stare at me in the mirror."

Stefan remembers vividly, the first time he went on an aeroplane with Damon. His brother, usually the face of arrogance, was ashen and shaking.

"Damon?"

"I'm fine."

"You look like you're going to pass out."

"I'm fine."

But the plane dropped and Damon gripped his brother's hand – actually gripped it. "You're scared of flying."

Damon closed his eyes, "It's unnatural. Metal things in the sky. It should be magic but it's not, it's science, and it's fucking scary."

There are not many weaknesses Damon Salvatore likes to admit (Bonnie Bennett being one of them) but flying, that he made explicit. He'd flown with Bonnie before, with Rick to Amsterdam, to take his mind off a comatose Elena, but he is in love with her now. And Stefan is… curious, to say the least, as to whether he'll let her in.

"You can take the window seat," Caroline smiles, "I know how much you like to look out."

"No, it's okay, you have it."

His wife raises her eyebrows, "Stefan, you have an album on your camera roll called 'Plane Window.' Sit down."

The cabin is filling up, the flight attendants surveying the scene with tight lipped smiles, and Damon and Bonnie are shuffling into their seats across the aisle.

"No, really, I'd rather sit by the aisle," he pauses, then adds, "I've got a bit of a headache actually," which is a big mistake because Caroline accelerates into doctor mode and calls a flight attendant over to ask for paracetamol.

"I wish you'd told me earlier," his wife huffs, "Planes are a hotbed of disease."

Stefan shakes his head, "I'm not sure about disease..."

"Disease, Stefan! I've read all about it." She glares at him until he accepts and across the row, Damon and Bonnie chuckle.

"You two are adorable," Bonnie grins.

Touché.

The plane begins its slow shudder into life and Damon tenses, he can see it in his jaw. Bonnie does too; she touches his arm.

"Damon?"

"I'm fine." He replies, like every other time Stefan has asked. But Bonnie's bullshit radar doesn't take any prisoners, clearly.

"No, you're not. Talk to me."

"Are you always this invasive," the vampire grits out. The plane picks up speed, faster and faster, until it's hurtling down the run-way and Damon's head is pinned back against the headrest.

"Hey," Bonnie speaks softly, "It's okay. I get it."

Her fingers slide into his and for Stefan, the action happens in slow-motion. Damon blinks, his hand, pale against hers, and maybe it happened in slow-motion for him too?

They lift off and Bonnie smiles at his brother, all warm and loving and… how is he the only one seeing this?

Stefan flops back against his seat. He let her in. Just like that; he opened his fingers and she fit.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just a show on Netflix I started watching."

Caroline laughs, "And the obsession begins."

You have no idea.

A/N: Short again, I'm sorry! I'll make up for it in the next one, I promise. In the meantime, please do let me know a) what you thought and b) any shipping adventures or Bamon moments you'd like to see our fanboy embark on. I've got a few more ideas but would definitely love some more input. You can always message me (anon or not) on tumblr, if you'd rather: perpetualimaginings

See you very soon!