So here is another chapter. But before you'll get to read it, I'd like to thank you guys for your great reviews, alerts, favs and all. It means so much to me. Thanks again.

P.S. music is a great part of my life. I write something - anything - music's playing. So this and the previous chapter are dedicated to Muse (God, such an awesome band!). Especially "Guiding Light"and "Map Of The Problematique"when it comes to Damon. If you haven't heard these songs - listen, you won't regret it.


This is Bonnie's special place. Far enough from the crowded city, almost always desert, beach seems to be designed for her. She faces the ocean and the sun, that slowly drowning in the blueness far behind the horizon. The bleeding sunset paints everything in orange. Bonnie likes orange, it's warm, it makes her think about home, it makes her feel safe.

She catches herself on thinking about Damon. She misses what they had. Though they didn't have anything. She misses the lightness that Damon was gaving her. She misses the time when she was almost powerless and could hardly light a candle up. Sure, it's cool to be a powerful witch. Sure it's cool to be able to kill with looks – literary. But something bugs her inside. And it feels so much like loneliness.

She brushes it aside and laughs at her silliness. She doesn't feel lonely, it's just her Powers are messing with emotions.

Then Bonnie thinks about her 'Powers'. She knew all too well what she was doing when she left forFloridafor the first time. She knew her aunt was a witch. And not just any witch, but the one who practiced the back magic. Bonnie knew what she would be doing here. And she hadn't even the second thought about her turning in the black magic witch. If anything, she even wanted it. She was so fed up with everything. She wanted to get really kick-ass.

And she did.

She became the pride of her aunt. That's exactly how Bonnie got to lay her hands on the necklace. Not that she wanted it; she didn't even know it existed until aunt Maggie led her into the basement and placed her before an ancient metallic box.

Standing there bare-feet on the yellow sand, Bonnie, with never-dying curiosity, watches a round, small brownish object.

The necklace…

She doesn't understand why her aunt would want to keep it. She has never used it, so why not to destroy it and be over with all this shit?

But Bonnie herself keeps it, doesn't she?. She is so far away from destroying it. But even as the necklace lies safely hidden it still pulling all kind of crap to it.

Immediately her mind is raising to yet another encounter with Mark. Three days ago he came to find her, to demand, to beg as he admitted himself. That sweet boy… that sweet, centuries old, frozen in his twenty three boy. With pale skin his aristocratic European features are even more visible. Black curly hair frames his face in thick cap. Gray washed out eyes were always so desperate to find hers.

After a few compliments he finally got to the point where he was supposed to be given his prize.

"What would you do with it anyway?" Bonnie asked genuinely wanting to know the answer.

"Bonnie, imagine the possibilities. Me and you. I would turn you. And we" he doesn't event have time to breathe properly, thrilled by what he sees in her head, "we would be there forever. The power… I know you feel it too coming from the necklace… I know you adore it as much as I do… let me… Give it to me." Out of breath, panting, staring in her emerald irises, with his own eyes are glistering with excitement.

Bonnie just smirked at his proposition then. Actually, she is smirking even now. It's like she will yelp 'YES! Yes, take me!' and throw herself in his arms. He can't really think about her that low, Bonnie shakes her head silently with disapproval. Power sure as hell is oh so appealing, but she is Bennett, for God's sake, and that tells something. She doesn't even want to live forever.

So Bonnie brushed him off. "You wouldn't know what to do neither with the necklace, nor with a vampire version of me."

She didn't want it to sound too much like a rejection. Through all the time the two have spent together, Bonnie developed a soft spot for Mark. Maybe that was wrong – hell that WAS wrong- but one thing Bonnie is sure in – this vampire will not harm her. He likes her (and she's fully aware of it). And she knows him… and more importantly she knows she can kill him if he ever tries anything funny.

That and there is always the fact that much wanted necklace would be useless without her there.

Mark was at least irritated. His voice heightened as he was proving his right to know who would be able handle Bonnie and the little bonus in a necklace form.

"Oh my, you're jealous! Or are you afraid I'll present the priceless necklace to him?" The witch exclaimed amused when Mark suggested Damon.

The thought of Mark being jealous was a warming one. But Bonnie didn't really want to give him an excuse to go murder Damon and Stefan and probably Elena, since she'd be, no doubt, trying to protect them. So cupping the vampire's cheeks and looked him deep in the eye. "I will not give the necklace to ANYONE, leave alone Damon."

Letting go of the guy, Bonnie keeps with her wondering out loud. "Damon is a big child. Plus his cockiness takes the best of him. He lives in that pathetically little world of his, that includes only Stefan, Elena and the ghost of Katherine,besideshim. He thinks he knows everything, he is sure he's the strongest in the world. When the truth is… I could end him with my very one finger… if I wanted to." Mark listened carefully to what Bonnie was saying and it downed on him then.

"You like him!" he said, amazed, raising his eyebrows so they hide behind his curly locks.

"I do." Bonnie admitted smiling.

"But not enough to stay with him." he whispered. He's gotten to know her real good.

"I don't like anyone that much." And Mark was fully aware - that included him too. And it truly made him sad. No, he didn't love her. Yet, at least. But he got used to her. The brightest days of his existence were the days they have spent together. He maybe even could give up on damn necklace if he knew she loved him, if it meant she would stay with him forever.

But Bonnie is like a kitten – at first seems fluffy and claw-less, but really is wild and merciless when it comes to mice. She has no ties to anybody, to anywhere. He can't stop wondering what made her that way. Or was she always like that?

Shortly after that he left, never failing to remind her to think about his proposition.

Bonnie doesn't want to be a vampire. She doesn't need an eternity. She doesn't want to be the most Powerful, doesn't want to rule the world.

So why won't Mark's words leave her head?


Stefan has no idea what's going on. He hasn't seen Damon for two day now. And with Elena in Stefan's bathroom, the younger Salvatore expects to be disturbed every five minutes. Or even more often, for that matter.

But no, Damon just won't poke his nose out of his bedroom. He hasn't acknowledged Elena's presence in any way and Stefan wants to be happy, because maybe his brother finally dropped his stupid mission to seduce Elena. But…

But usually if his brother is playing nice, watch out for the troubles. Stefan is all but prepared to watch his back.

"Stop being so serious." Elena murmurs, creeping up the bed to fall into her lover's embrace.

"Do you hear that?"

"What?" Elena pops on her elbows. "I don't hear anything." She frowns.

"That's right! Damon is awfully quiet. Feels like the calm before the storm." He's starring at her dead serious all the while Elena's smile's growing wider.

"You're being paranoid." She kisses him softly on the lips.

"I don't want him to do anything to you"

"Don't worry; I have my garlic necklace with me." Stefan shakes his head and hugs her to his chest tightly.

"Um, I've been thinking here…" Elena smiles at Stefan and breathes in before filling him on what she has planed for them for tonight.

The room is dark and thick air soaked with of alcohol. There is no even a slightest noise everything is silenced. The curtains are closed tightly. Not a ray of light can break into the room.

Damon's depressed.

He's lying on his back on the bed, embracing a bottle. He needs a plan. The one to get Elena. The one to get his usual self. The one to get… to get… to get something he doesn't what know what, but is lacking it so wildly.

He has spent all day here, trying to come up with something. And? His mind is just blank.

Fuck, he thinks, looks like I'm losing my shape. Maybe he just needs to feed…

It was so much more thrilling when the certain witch was on his back, threatening to burn him alive if he'd try to get blood right from the tap. Now, when he's allowed to do what he pleases, it's not that interesting any more. Of cause there is always Mr. Brooding Forehead, but it's not the same since Stefan can't actually match his strength and so his threats are empty.

Damon takes a sip from his bottle. He's heard Elena's voice somewhere in the house. Maybe he'll go greet her when he finished with this bottle. Still lying on the bed Damon tries to come up with a to-do-list.

First - finish the bottle. Then the hard part – try to get up. Get blood. Fuck Elena (though this never happens). Kill somebody, because you didn't get to fuck Elena. Bring a girl home; take all the frustration on the poor thing. Drink until you don't remember your name. Wait till morning, go through the routine again.

Pathetic.

Damon gets up, already jumping in his pants, and heads where the kitchen is supposed to be. With a glass of thick blood Damon looks around the room in search of something interesting. And there it is – a treasure – Elena's cell. His grabby hands are reaching out for the phone, mind is raising for what to do with it.

Suddenly the thing is going off in his hands and Damon's soul almost left his body. He cruses quietly, pressing the button to answer it. Before he can say anything his ear is filled with so damn familiar babbling voice.

"Elena!" Bonnie exclaims. "God, I miss you so much. How are you? What are you doing? You should come here. Sooo manyhot boys here" the voice sighs blissfully. "Elena? Elena, why are-"

Damon hung up. Closing his eyes, overwhelmed by pure anger, he feels the veins under his eyes.

Stefan has had enough of this crap. So that's why he opens roughly the door to Damon's room, preparing to give his brother on hell of what're-you-up-tos. Imagine his shock when he finds the room not only empty but void of the strong alcoholic scent.

The thought that Damon give up on drinking the younger Salvatore doesn't consider for a second. He strolls to Damon's closet to find it half empty and the big travelling bag is gone.

"Fuck." Said Stefan.


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