Bonnie was upstairs, in the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom. She popped a Tylenol and took a gulp of the glass of water she had. Damon's jacket was thrown across the chair at her desk and he was leaning up against the white wooden door.

"How's your head?"

Maybe she should've been struck dumb by his asking. But it was the way he was watching her, almost like he was assessing the damage himself, concern seeming through his frown that made her bite her lip. She was nervous. Why? She would've bet a million dollars that the rollercoaster going at high speed in her chest had something to do with that. She remembered Dean and his clear cut resolve.

"I'll live."

He smiled, looked down at his feet, crossed his arms over his chest-as if he physically wanted to demonstrate throwing his walls up.

"So, uh, how did you know where I was?" Bonnie asked, getting straight to business.

As if not satisfied with the Tylenol, some unseen thing told him to take her head in his hands and examine it, making sure there was no bumps or cuts that were contributing to the headache, hoping that it was just the stress of being kidnapped. He noticed that Bonnie didn't twitch, didn't seem bothered by it all. She had become way too comfortable with him.

"You are not going to like it," he said matter of factly, smiling that devilish smile he always had, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cradling her head with his hand.

"It can't be that bad. What is it? Something like, I've been in league with Anna all along, it's part of my diabolical master plan-."

"I told your grandmother I'd been feeding from you so she could use me to scry for you."

She turned around, knees knocking against her bed. Her smile dropped and now she was yelling, "You what? How could you do that to me?"

He smiled. Smiled at the way her hazel-brown eyes were bugging out of her head and the veins in her neck started to train and pulse, he could hear it, the blood pumping through her body as she got angrier, more nervous. His hands went down to her shoulders, rubbing the smooth skin there, trying to calm her down.

"Bonnie…"

"And you know what she's doing now? She's down there with Elena! Both of them are probably wondering what the hell we're doing up here! Do you know what kind of thoughts are running through Gram's head right now?"

"Well then maybe you should stop yelling if you're so afraid of what they might think," he said clenching his jaw. Was feeding him really that bad? What exactly had he done-. Okay, besides trying to kill her but to him that felt like another lifetime ago. When he had attacked her, all he had seen was Emily and her betrayal and losing Katherine all over again. But Bonnie wasn't anything like her ancestress. Determined, headstrong, a bit stubborn and she wasn't a backstabbing liar. So what the hell was she doing in her bedroom with him? And why did it bother him that it bothered her about what people thought about them? It wasn't as if anything was going on.

"I'm not afraid. Just worried. I don't feel like explaining all of this," she said motioning between the two of them. Damon's eyebrows rose, wondering what the "this" she referring to actually was. She saw his hesitance in regards to the "this", so she quickly followed up, "I just got kidnapped for God's sake. Don't I get a break?"

She flopped down on the bed and he joined her, lying on his side, looking at her. She looked like hell. But she was still beautiful. Beautiful? Beautiful? What kind of thoughts were these? Probably the same ones that drove you to blurting out the truth to Sheila and running to your little witch's rescue asshat. When was the last time he head told the truth? And since when was Bonnie his little witch?

"Damon?"

"Yeah?"

"You told Grams the truth, so you could find me," she whispered. She was almost afraid to say it. There was a long silence before he answered.

"Yeah."

She sat up, turned on her side so that they were facing each other. They were close now and Damon, despite trying to retrain himself noticed her lips and remembered what her skin felt like, soft, warm.

"Why?"

"Because," he sighed, fingering her locks, "I told you I need a witch to open the tomb."

"But, that's what they were going to use me for. Does it really matters who forces me to open it, so long as I open it?"

"Bonnie's been doing what," Elena yelled as Grams took a seat in the kitchen. Feeding Damon? Feeding Damon? Feeding Damon? What the fuck had she been thinking? "And you kept it from me," she stared accusingly at her boyfriend.

"It's not his fault Elena. She asked him to keep it from us. She didn't want anyone to know."

Stefan folded his arms across the chest and leaned against the kitchen counter. He had thought maybe it had been a bad idea but then it turned out it had been the only way for him to find Elena and Bonnie. And Damon, he was upstairs now with Bonnie, trying to make sure she was okay.

After we had broke into the motel room, the girls had ran downstairs, waiting for us in the parking lot. I watched as Bonnie reached for Damon, only being allowed to grab onto the sleeve of his jacket. And there was a fire in her eyes, something I recognized as happiness.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, well Stefan here believes in playing the merciful hero."

She smiled, biting her lip, looking down at her shoes, still clutching to his arm, her fingers wrapped around him so tight it looked as if they would break. She let out a deep breath. Damon reached for her face, tilting it up so she could look at him. They were so close now, practically in their own little world because my brother and Bonnie didn't seem to notice-or didn't seem to care-that Elena and I were watching the two with keen interest. Elena had her mouth opened, frowning at the affectionate exchange.

"You okay now," he whispered to her.

Her eyes went down to the ground still, "I am now."

It had been uncomfortable. I had felt as if I was intruding on something between the two. I cleared my throat, drawing the two away from each other, "We need to go."

"Stefan why are you so calm about this?" Elena's voice snatched him right out of his observation of what exactly was going on between the two. Damon didn't care about anybody, sometimes Stefan thought that Damon didn't even care about himself. "You're the first one to remind us how manipulative and selfish and maniacal your brother is."

"I know Elena. But something's different. You didn't see him when he realized they had taken Bonnie. When Sheila told us where you were, he rushed out of here. He even left the grimwoire behind. And think about what happened at the motel," he saw Elena's eyes widen as she remembered what seemed to be less important a mere ten seconds ago in comparison with the whole feeding situation, "And now he's upstairs and I can hear them. And he isn't being Damon. He's being respectful. He hasn't mentioned the tomb once."

"Well what the hell else could they be talking about? That's all he wants That's all he cares about."

"Honestly Elena, after everything I've seen in the past two weeks regarding Bonnie, I'm beginning to wonder."

"Because they were going to kill you after they got what they wanted?"

"And that bothers you because? I mean do I need to remind you, that you tried to kill me once too."

The vampire shifted uncomfortably. Bonnie noticed as he laid back on the bed, arms across his chest, knowing his walls were still in tact. She was fishing, she knew it. But there was a reason that Damon had come to her rescue. And it wasn't because he owed her from saving her life. There was something else here. She had known it the second he came out of the hotel. Something was different between the two. And if her dreams were any indication, it was a very basic human need. The need for sex, something she was sure Damon got enough of. But underneath sex there was the desire for attraction, for attachment.

"What about that hunter?"

"His name is Dean," she snapped stubbornly, instantly hit by a wave of sadness and confusion that knocked her on her back.

"Oooh, I believe I've pushed a button," Damon cooed, something familiar, something he hadn't felt in over a hundred years rising up from his chest and expanding all through his body before bouncing back with a sting. It was like being popped with a rubber band. A green rubber band.

She wasn't exactly sure of what to say. She missed Dean, she probably would always miss Dean.

"He's gone. I'll probably never see him again. And I doubt even if I did, he would forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?"

She pulled her sleeves up, exposing the bite marks.

"These."

And she knew he wouldn't. He'd be angry with her and that was something she couldn't think about. The last time he had been angry with her, he gone by himself to kill Damon. Apparently he had been able to stand his own but she had seen his body. Busted nose, painful breathing because of the broken ribs, eye that had started to swell. She closed her eyes at the thought. All that because he had been mad at some stupid thing she had said.

Damon could feel the regret coming off of her in waves. He smiled satisfactorily and ignored the tugging in his chest that told him this shouldn't hurt as much as it does.

"Well, that's fine by me. He was much too old for you anyway."

She smiled oddly at his joke. And the tense emotion that sounded a lot like jealousy seeping in his voice.

"This coming from the 145-year-old vampire. I wish I could see him again."

"I know that voice. That sounds like first love?"

"You should know, you've only had one."

He laughed. It felt good. He hadn't laughed, really laughed in a long time. Except when he was with Bonnie.

"But he's not here. And he isn't coming back."

"Well, I guess this would be the time to tell you that he's an idiot if he doesn't see how amazing you are."

"Amazing? Wow. Well, he's a good man though-and sometimes, like when I'm not with you, I wish he was here."

She looked into his eyes, searching for the emotions that were rolling around in her chest. And before he closed his eyes shut, she saw it.

"Bonnie. You shouldn't say stuff like that."

"Why?"

He rolled over on his back, putting his arm over his face. She hovered over him, hair falling onto his neck. She pulled his arm off his face, licked her lips, "Damon look at me."

His eyes opened and she held her breath. His eyes were beautiful, they used to remind her of ice, but now they were like the color of summer raindrops.

"Damon. You saved my life today and you actually care. I know you don't know it but this whole love for Katherine didn't screw you over. You're a good man Damon."

She didn't know what she was talking about. He was squirming on the inside because what she said was the total opposite. He wasn't a good person, his love-but maybe it had just been an obsession-for Katherine had screwed him over and turned him into who he was. The other Salvatore, the evil one.

"So this Dean guy. If you'll never see him again-."

"Just because I'll never see him again, doesn't mean we don't talk."

"What," he said raising up to look down at her. All thoughts of self-pity flying out of the window.

"Yeah," she smiled coyly, "the last time we talked he was in Ohio, fighting some kick-ass zombies."

The mood had changed but there was a tug at her heart. She missed Dean. But she had never really got to know him, not like she had Damon. Who was funny and sarcastic and dependable. He wouldn't be on an ongoing road trip with his brother with nothing but a text every few days. He could stay devoted, committed. Dean, she wasn't sure of. In her dreams, it was always Dean who left her bed and Damon who stayed. Imagine that, a sexy bad-ass vampire who wasn't afraid of commitment. She should feel bad about this. Maybe there was a part of her that did, but it sure wasn't pounding at the door yelling at Bonnie's hormones to slow down.

"Zombies?"

"Yeah, how cool is that?"

Damon looked as if he was ready to spit daggers. He knew Bonnie was just joking, he could tell by her smile. But he was still angry and he'd admit it, never out loud, but jealous. He didn't know why but he didn't want anyone to have these moments with Bonnie, especially not that troubled Heathcliff character who lit his ass on fire.

"Bonnie," he warned.

"Are you jealous Damon," she asked, wiggling underneath him.

He shot her this look. A look that clearly told her not to fuck with him. She didn't know whether it was literal or not, but his lips parted and his hand was still playing in her hair. So she didn't take his attempt at serious restraint to serious. She had been dreaming about this for days. The timing was perfect.

"Why do you care if they kill me or not Damon?"

"Because-."

"Because what?"

He ran his nose along her neck, smelling her. She tensed automatically. Thinking of Ben. Where had that bad ass bravado gone? Out of nowhere she felt like she had come down off of this amazing adrenaline high.

"Bonnie, Bonnie, what's wrong?"

"It's just-."

"I could kill him for you. I wanted to. I seriously was inclined to but Stefan stepped in and left him there trying to stay out of the sunlight."

"No Damon," she said quickly, reaching up to touch his face. "I'm just-I don't know I feel like I've spent the past few hours trying to keep Ben on his toes and now I don't have to. Because I'm here with you. And I feel safe and all my energy is-."

"Bonnie, shut up."

The kiss was impulsive, hot, passionate. Bonnie was taken by surprise at first, she didn't think all that teasing would make him actually kiss her. He was on top of her, pinning her to the bed. Just as his tongue skimmed across her bottom lip, her arms went around his neck, her hands falling into his hair tugging at the fine strands at the nape of his neck. The kiss got hotter as his tongue entered her mouth, probing, warm, it darted in and out in and out mimicking sex. Gasping for air, she pulled away but Damon-not wanting to leave her-simply moved his mouth down at her neck, sucking at the flesh. Because her heart was beating fast, her blood was pumping fast and his fangs descended, grazing at her neck. She gasped and felt herself go wet between her legs. She had to admit it, the fang thing was, "So hot," she mumbled almost incoherently, evoking a smile from Damon.

His hands went underneath her dress, moving along her thighs, goose bumps rising along the skin from his cool hands. His fingers found her panties and his palm ran along the fabric. She undulated against his hand, "Da-mon," she ground out. And she sucked in some more air when he pulled her collar down and bit into her flesh. He wasn't feeding, not really, but he knew she liked it. Had learned from all that self-restraint she used to hold herself in check whenever he had fed from her all last week.

Despite being wrapped up in Bonnie, Damon heard footsteps making their way up the stairs. Stefan. He pulled himself off of the little witch in time, tugging the skirt of her dress down as Stefan opened the door.

"You're wanted downstairs. Besides, I can hear you and it's starting to get a little uncomfortable."

Bonnie blushed, embarrassment wracking her nerves as she ran past Stefan down the stairs.

"Damon, I don't know what's going on but be careful."

"C'mon Stefan, when am I not careful," he joked, nudging his brother on the shoulder before following Bonnie downstairs.