A/N: Greetings and salutations. Hopefully someone, somewhere is still interested in seeing how this story develops. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Scene 7

The awkwardness alone was palpable enough to strangle a horse, yet Bonnie tried to push all of that to the back of her mind. She woke up sore and stiff, her muscles protesting loudly as she squirmed to alertness on her side of the bed. Walking for hours on end and then getting into a physical altercation with a vampire made her feel older than eighteen, she felt ninety. And the hunger that flared deep in her belly almost knocked her to the floor when she climbed out of bed.

Moving her tongue around in her mouth she tasted nothing but cotton. That was good since she had no intentions on swapping spit with the vampire who was slowly waking out of his la petite mort. Wiggling her toes against the shag carpeting, Bonnie paraded over to her pile of clothes and grimaced. They were soiled and filthy and the last thing she wanted to do was put them back on. There was nothing more revolting than taking a shower and putting on dirty clothes; it kind of defeated the purpose of taking a bath.

Damon stretched his arms over his head, arched his back and felt the delicious pop of his bones realigning in his spine. He grunted when he turned his head to regard Bonnie.

They slept in the same bed and lived to tell the tale. Throwing the sheet off his legs he stood up.

Bonnie knew he was standing and avoided turning around. She didn't know what she might be graced with. Yeah, Elena told her about showing up at the boardinghouse one day when she got another tip about a Klaus/Stefan sighting when he disappeared last summer. Damon had heard her enter the house yet that didn't stop him from traipsing downstairs in his birthday suit to flash her his goods.

Thinking of that made Bonnie's cheeks flame. Damon really had no shame and the jury was out on whether she should admire that about him or hate him for it.

A replay of just a few hours ago slapped her upside the head. Damon's hand groped her boob. The same hand he used to snap her mother's neck. Bonnie felt her anger resurging yet she tramped it back down. Now wasn't the time for her to rehash all of that and what difference would it make in the long run? He apologized and almost sounded sincere. He didn't abandon her on the side of the road when he had every opportunity to do so. He didn't make her sleep in the car, but paid for their opulent dwellings. He had been more accommodating than Bonnie figured he'd ever be for anyone else, yet she wasn't sure how long his generosity or guilt would last.

Her reverie was interrupted when something went colliding into her shoulder. Immediately anger rushed through her veins, and she spun around to face him, ready to take his head off for throwing something at her, but Bonnie stopped. She looked down at the articles of clothing that was bunched around her feet.

It was a pair of Damon's clean clothes.

He entered the bathroom without giving her a chance to either refuse or accept them.

Picking up the bundle, Bonnie quickly stripped unsure of how much time she had before Damon came bursting out of the bathroom in a calculated move to try to get a glimpse of her goodies.

Naturally her mind traveled to earlier this morning and the offer Damon wanted to present to her. She didn't accept because Bonnie was sure he would say something rude and tactless because that was the kind of person Damon was. Bonnie was sure the thoughts that migrated in his brain were: Elena, blood, Stefan, sex, and more Elena. No one else factored into his thought processes and that's how he was able to do despicable acts to people without censor or consciences. So whatever "offer" he had in mind probably entailed something sexual and Bonnie wasn't here for that.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bonnie had to get herself together. She couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep reminding herself of all she had lost or was taken from her as a result of her association with Damon Salvatore. If she did she was liable to set this entire motel on fire and there was no need putting the owner out of business nor endanger the lives of the other patrons because of her inability to not let Damon get under her skin.

And he was under her skin. Bonnie wasn't sure if there was anything strong or sharp enough to remove him at this point.

Nevertheless she dressed. Slid her arms into his button down and rolled up the sleeves, and did the same with the pair of jeans he loaned her. Thankfully she wore a belt with her jeans and promptly snaked it through the loops and fastened it so his pants wouldn't slide down her legs the moment she got to her feet.

By the time she was done, Damon came out of the bathroom, still not dressed.

Eyes downcast, Bonnie got up and walked into the bathroom. She didn't see Damon giving her a thorough perusal of her walking around in his clothes. They looked pretty good on her despite being way oversized.

Inside the bathroom, Bonnie brushed her teeth, washed her face, and did the best she could with her hair. Well, she didn't look completely like an extra from a horror film but it was infinitely better than how she looked yesterday.

Tentatively she opened the bathroom door. Damon was just stepping into his pants and she caught a little cheek action. Great, now she learned something else about him she didn't want to know—that he went commando, and that image would be engrained in her mind for God knows how long.

But if she wanted to be honest Bonnie could admit that he had a nice ass for a white guy.

With his back to the door, it was kind of hard for Damon to keep the knowing smirk off his face. He knew Bonnie got an eyeful just now. He buttoned his jeans and then deliberately turned around.

"Good morning."

His greeting caught Bonnie off guard and she gasped a little before pulling on her resolve. She marched out of the bathroom determined to ignore him.

"Morning," she mumbled and stuffed her items into her plastic suitcase.

"Checkout is in about twenty minutes. Do you have all of your precious belongings?" Damon questioned sarcastically.

Huffing, Bonnie forced herself to look at him—the shirtless blue-eyed devil. "Yes. Are we heading back to Mystic Falls?"

Damon didn't answer her question. He merely dug around in his bag and extracted another black shirt. He pulled it over his head and down his abs, and then shrugged.

Bonnie's eyes rolled. She wasn't in the mood to play twenty questions with Damon. Yet she didn't want to voice how much she didn't want to return to Mystic Falls. Her plan was to get away and stay away until it was time for her to start college, but even going to college was beginning to lose its appeal. Besides, earning an education wasn't going to help her stay one step ahead of her supernatural enemies. Bonnie could very well spend the rest of her life running. Running from her problems, her responsibility, her past, and her present.

Stuffing his feet in his boots, Damon grabbed his keys, walked past Bonnie and threw open the door to the hotel. He motioned with his head for her to precede him.

Well that was one area Bonnie couldn't fault him in. Damon invariably opened doors for her.

Scene 8

They stopped at a roadside diner and munched on a stack of pancakes coated in rich maple syrup, fluffy eggs, coffee brewed to perfection, and crispy bacon. They ate in silence, never made eye contact with one another, and were back on the road in under two hours.

"Thanks for breakfast," Bonnie remembered she had manners after all, yet it still left a vile taste in the back of her throat to have to thank him for anything.

"You're welcome."

Since he was the one doing the driving, Bonnie tried to watch the road signs to ascertain where they were going. From what she could tell they weren't heading south but north. When they passed a state sign that read: Welcome to New York, Bonnie snapped her head sharply to look at Damon.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"When you try to surprise someone it usually ends with their death. Just tell me where we're going, Damon."

"We're not going back to Mystic Falls," he responded plaintively.

"I can see that."

"Why do you need to know every damn thing, Bonnie? Will it add meaning to your life? Give you the cure to cancer? Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

"I have a question for you. Why didn't you drop me off at the first bus station you could find?"

Damon didn't answer her question because his phone began vibrating. He dug it out of his pocket and saw who was calling. He routed the call to his voice mail and resumed driving.

"Who was that?" Bonnie questioned.

"Stefan."

"Why didn't you answer?"

"Do you want to talk to Stefan because you know who he'll put on the phone the minute he hears your voice."

Bonnie sat back against the leather seat. "No, I don't want to talk to Stefan."

Damon hesitated before asking his next question. "Why don't you want to talk to Elena…or Caroline for that matter? I thought they were your best friends."

How could Bonnie explain that she hadn't felt close to her two best friends, well with the exception of Caroline, for a while? How could she put into words that all the sacrifices that were made to keep Elena alive, to ensure her mortality had all been in vain without sounding like a complaining brat? Because that's what everyone would accuse her of, of not being grateful that she still had Elena in her life even if she is a vampire. Even if she was, by nature's law, her enemy.

"They are my best friends but I need a break from them. I figured you'd want to get back to Elena as soon as possible, yet here you are toting me across state lines."

Damon snorted. "Contrary to popular belief my life doesn't revolve around Elena."

Bonnie's eyebrows arched. "Well this is news."

For his part, Damon ignored her sarcastic tone. "I'm sure you think I'm whipped."

"You are."

"But Elena doesn't control my life."

"She does. She asked you to find me, didn't she? You certainly weren't going to lift a finger to check under every rock to find me. Why would you? You don't care about me."

Damon's molars mashed on top of one another and began grinding. He was getting gotdamn sick and tired of people telling him how they thought he felt about something. Only he knew his mind. No one else. Only he was privy to his emotions, and sure he wore them on his sleeve sometimes because that was the human thing to do, and he had a tendency to lay all his cards out on the table when he knew he should have bluffed, but you live and you learn. But for anyone to assume to know what he felt on any given day, during any given time were seriously misinformed and out of touch.

Yet Damon was ready to turn the tables on her. He briefly took his eyes off the road to glare at Bonnie. "And what about you, Bon? Why did you alert the cavalry that I was doing an S&M role play with Rebekah and Klaus? You could have kept your mouth shut and let The Blondes do me in, but you didn't even after Klaus reminded you that I…killed your mom. Why the hell did you lift a finger to save my life? I've certainly done you no favors."

Bonnie's mouth opened to respond yet she shut it. That night she had been running off of emotions which unfortunately happened to be jumping all over the place. Being ambushed by Klaus, the threat to Jeremy's life, still smarting over Abby's transition and subsequent bolting technique, her brief stint into incestuous behavior, Bonnie felt her mind had been fracturing into pieces. Up was down, down was sideways, and everyone was out to get her.

Making that call, telling Elena where to find Damon, had been the final straw and she broke down. Unable to drive away from Klaus' lair of pain, glued to the spot. That night had been a painful reminder that no matter what, she would only be a tool to her friends and to her enemies. Controlled like a caged animal. And then discarded like garbage.

"It was a stupid decision," Bonnie finally admitted. "And maybe old habits die hard," she became reflective. "When the Jonathan Gilbert device went off and all the tomb vampires had been rounded up and thrown into that office, you with them, Stefan rushed inside knowing fire could kill him too. But he said something that made me stop and question if I was doing the right thing. He said, 'He's my brother, Bonnie'. I considered Stefan a friend, back then anyways, and maybe I lowered the flames so he wouldn't hate me, come after me if you died. Maybe I realized it wasn't your fault that Grams died. She knew the costs, yet she did that spell because she knew how important Elena was to me. Maybe she did it because she knew Stefan didn't deserve to be trapped inside. I don't know. Didn't get the chance to ask her."

Damon dropped his eyes, guiltily.

"I can't say why I told Elena. Maybe because as much as you might not like me, you would probably do the same thing for me. But that's purely speculation on my part."

"I would have."

Their eyes met over the console. Bonnie was the first one to look away.

This was ironic, Damon thought as he recalled telling Elena the night of the 60's decade dance that if the choice came down to her and Bonnie, he'd gladly let the witch die. Well he ate those words the night he killed Abby. He could have let Stefan do the honors and turn Bonnie, but Damon knew she never would have gone through with the transition and she would have died. Elena certainly would never forgive them for hurting Bonnie, and perhaps that was another reason why he went after Abby, to spare himself from losing another person he loved. It was selfish, and Damon didn't regret his decision to spare Bonnie that fate, but he did regret that it even had to boil down to flipping a coin and exalting one life over another.

"Why do you love Elena so much, Damon?" Bonnie asked.

That question surprised him so much Damon accidentally crossed over into the next lane. A car blew its horn and he resumed control over his vehicle.

"I don't know."

"You have no idea why you're willing and have tried to move heaven and earth for a girl that will never love you the way she loves your brother?"

Ouch, Damon thought. She sure didn't mince words, but then again, that had always been a part of their charm, being brutally and unfailingly honest with one another.

"She's nothing like Katherine or maybe she is when she's around you, I don't know. But why do you continue to put your all into something you know will never happen?"

"Never say never as Justin Bieber would say," Damon smiled although his sarcasm was forced to hide the fact that her questions were beginning to get to him. "I don't know, Bonnie. I'm a glutton for punishment. Why were you smooching all over your pseudo adoptive brother? That was the single most disturbing thing I've seen in my life, and trust me I've seen some shit, but that took the cake."

"Shut the fuck up," Bonnie spat heatedly.

"You have no problem sticking your nose in my business, but then you want to become rude when I question your love interest tastes. That's not fair."

"Jamie…I don't want to talk about Jamie with you. He's out of the picture."

"Good. He wasn't right for you and neither was Gilbert Jr."

"Oh, really? So who is right for me? Klaus? Oh, wait he's now putting all of his energy into breaking up a high school couple. Kol? Nope, that won't work because he's a murderous asshole and I'm too strong and beautiful for him, and let's not forget I have a special disdain for vampires. Alaric is dead. But maybe I can date his ghost. I'm legal now."

At the conclusion of her tirade, Damon could do nothing more than chortle. "You do have one option left."

Bonnie looked at him, completely disinterested in what he had to say. "Who?"

"Me."

Bonnie laughed raucously. "Now there's a thought," she muttered derisively. "Sorry, but I'm not that desperate."

It took more effort than he thought it should not to feel offended. Yet Damon mustered on.

"When you look at us on paper, we make sense," Damon said aloud. In his mind he rolled out a laundry list of reasons why he and Bonnie could potentially work. They were used to getting the shaft in favor of others. Their love lives were a mess. They put their all into protecting the people they loved and cared about, and hardly got so much as a thanks in return. Shoot, when he thought of all this and realized how much they had in common on the surface, it started to freak him out a bit.

Damon never looked at Bonnie in a romantic sense. He had no reason to. He had eyes and knew she was a beautiful, sexy specimen on two legs; that went without saying, but honestly he never had the slightest inclination to pursue her.

His dalliance with Caroline had been about worming his way into Elena's inner sanctum. He picked her as being the weakest link and the most susceptible to his charm. Damon had identified with Caroline's pitiful need to be chosen over someone else, the golden one. He had gone through that with his father always favoring Stefan, everyone really, favoring Stefan over him. So he toyed with Caroline, crushed her self-esteem, and used her because life in small towns was horrifically boring and he needed some form of entertainment.

When he discovered that Bonnie's last name was Bennett he knew he couldn't play any kind of game with her or there'd be hell to pay.

"The only thing that makes sense between us Damon is when you're writhing on the ground in pain because I'm turning your brain into mush."

Damon switched on the radio and cocked a grin. "Stick around, little bird, and you might end up falling head over heels in love with me."

Bonnie leaned over the console. "Damon, drinking water out of the toilet isn't smart, and I suggest you stop because all you're talking is shit."

"That's a good one, Judgy. I might have to use that one day."

Bonnie was prepared to trade another snarky comment when she grew distracted by the fact Damon had pulled off the main highway and was now traveling down a deserted one lane road. Caution flags were waving wildly all over the place.

The trees loomed over the road giving Bonnie the feel that she was about to be swallowed whole or smothered. They drove down this road for about five miles until it opened up and before her was an imposing three story stone house.

The place kind of reminded Bonnie of an estate in the English countryside.

"Whose house is this?" Bonnie questioned as Damon pulled his car into the winding driveway.

Throwing the car into park, Damon climbed out. Bonnie followed suit. "It's mine," he finally answered.

He strolled up the front door and retrieved the key from a loose brick in the foundation. Damon unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Welcome to Rome, New York."

Chapter end.

A/N: Yes, there really is a city called Rome in New York. I can't say how much time they will spend here, but probably a significant portion of the story will be based on their activities in New York. Slowly, but surely Bonnie and Damon are working out their differences (hence the title), but it doesn't mean things will be on the up and up with them. I hate saying I don't know when the next update will come, that all just depends on my muse, and she's hopping all over the place these days. But thanks for reading! Love you!