Chapter 6

A/N: So sorry for neglecting to post for so long! I've been busy with my summer internship. I hope y'all enjoy the chapter. You'll get to see things from a different point of view, that's for sure. ;)

Bonnie slumped over her typewriter. She had no idea how anything got done with such a lack of adequate technology. Her fingers felt like they were about to fall off.

It had been a few weeks since she had last seen Damon lying in the middle of her street. According to Stefan's notes, he was due for a couple of killings up in Canada, of all places, and he was due to return within the next few days. She had been horrified to find that his next victims would be a classroom of students at Daniel Kelly's school.

She couldn't let that happen.

She knew that she wasn't actually allowed to change history. She couldn't actually stop Damon from killing those kids, and it hurt to think about it. And she probably wouldn't actually be restoring his humanity if she succeeded with this journey. But she needed to know how. How to get him to flip the switch. How to restore him to the man she knew and–

Hated. She caught a glimpse of familiar black leather and blacker hair outside the newspaper office. What has he doing here? She had expected him to head to the diner to torment the waitress and eat French fries once he returned like usual. The poor girl wore an ascot at all times to hide the scars that riddled her neck.

Bonnie's shift was over anyway, so she made her way out of the office. Stanley, a friendly man who wrote breaking news stories, called out to her. "Heading out for the day, Bonnie?"

"Yeah, I'd better head home," she said.

He crossed the office and stood next to her at the door. He was wearing a light brown suit, and his smile crinkled the eyes on his open face. So open.

"Do you think you could let me take you out tomorrow night?" he asked hopefully. Tomorrow was Saturday. Bonnie had made a few friends around the office and went out with some of the other secretaries sometimes. They insisted that Stanley was "sweet" on her, and that he was her chance at the perfect husband.

She figured she would humor him. She had nothing better to do besides stalk Damon and knit with Mrs. Kelly, anyway.

"I would love to, Stanley."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 7. You live with the Kelly's right?"

"That's right."

"Great. We can see a movie."

"Sounds good," Bonnie smiled. She loved old movies, that was for sure. It was one of the only good things about living in 1956.

She smiled to herself, thinking of the fact that she was living in the heyday of old Hollywood, the golden age, as she left the office. She had almost forgotten the vampire who was waiting in the driveway. He was leaning on a flashy black 1954 Corvette. She realized his precious '69 Camaro hadn't been made yet. It was weird to see him without it.

"Someone must be excited for date night," he smiled coldly.

"Why–"

He interrupted her. "I'm hankering for some fries."

She remembered his usual trip to the diner. Why was he here?

"Let's go."

Before she could protest, he added, "Or Sweet Stanley dies." Cue evil leer.

Bonnie pressed her lips together and slid into the seat of the shiny car. The engine was deafeningly loud. He parked in front of the diner. The sun was setting, casting a reddish color over the autumn sky. He sped to her side of the car to open her door as she smoothed her dress and gathered her purse. It was navy blue, but she was tired of the full skirts. As he lead her to the diner, she wondered why it was so easy to follow him now. He came to her. It unnerved her. Then she realized something.

"We can't eat together, you know. If that's what you were planning." She tucked a dark brown lock behind her hair and patted her unnaturally large bob. The look suited her even though she wasn't totally comfortable with it.

His eyes seemed to register the colored section of the restaurant. "Did you forget who I am? If I want to eat with you, I'm going to eat with you or eat anyone who gets in my way."

He sauntered into the diner and proceeded to fix his piercing blue eyes on each and every patron in the establishment. Even the children. She shifted her feet, thinking of the school classroom he was soon to massacre. I can't let that happen.

"I am enjoying a meal with my lady friend here, and she is allowed to sit wherever she likes. You won't give us any trouble or I will rip out your heart and feed it to you." He finished compelling the last patron.

He turned to Bonnie. "After you," he gestured towards a small booth.

She ordered a milkshake and a hamburger. How were people supposed to eat like this and still fit into tiny dresses and suits? Was there a gym around here?

She decided to ask him. "How do people eat this food all the time? It's unhealthy."

"Beats me. I'm cut like a marble statue," he gave her another evil grin that looked unnaturally familiar. He wasn't lying; she had seen him shirtless in the present day. She tried not to think about it.

"Why did you want to eat with me?"

"I thought I'd show you a real date. Seeing as you think poor old Stanley can show you a good time."

"Why do you care?" she scoffed.

"I get bored," he shrugged and lit a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked. It's not good for you, you know."

"Yeah, because I could get lung cancer and die," he rolled his eyes. "I've read the articles. They aren't even proven."

She realized that the research probably wasn't concrete yet. It threw her. Everything she knew was so uncertain here.

He offered her one. "Take the risk."

Would this affect her in the present? One couldn't kill her. She took the cigarette and placed it between her lips as he lit it for her with a heavy silver lighter. She took a drag. It wasn't bad, she supposed.

"I'm still going out with Stanley," she said, exhaling.

He shoved a few fries in his mouth. Flawlessly.

"I still might drain him, if I feel like it."

"You shouldn't drain anyone anymore, Damon," she said. "I know your humanity is off."

"Well thanks, Sherlock, I really appreciate the perception. But I do what I want, to whoever I want." His eyes glinted dangerously.

"I know, but–"

He slammed a fist on the table. "I might have decided to have you join me tonight, but that doesn't mean you can start telling me what I should and should not do," he interrupted. "I won't hesitate to snap your neck if you get on my bad side."

She stood up slowly. "I'll just leave you," she said. For now.

Bonnie went outside and called a cab to head home. She was nervous. She had made him angry only a few nights before he was to kill those students. She turned around to see him heading outside behind her, and her heart skipped a beat.

He heard it. "Don't be nervous, little witch. A few years without humanity never killed anybody. Only I do." He whipped out his keys.

She swallowed when he called her his nickname from 2016. How did he arrive at the same one in 1956?

He winked and got into his car when her cab pulled up.

Damon Salvatore drove. He drove like his life depended on it. He drove faster than he had in years until he ended up back in Canada before he knew it.

Little witch. Why the hell was he giving her nicknames? There was something odd about her. He couldn't stay away no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to.

The worst part about it all was that he wanted her blood. Badly. But he wanted to talk to her more. He wanted to know her. What kind of bullshit was that? What kind of humanity-less vampire wants to get to know some girl?

Stefan would be proud, he thought wryly. He had been so bored for so long and she had popped up. Why? It felt like she was x-raying him when she looked at him, like she could see through him. Nobody sees through Damon. Nobody knows how he operates.

So why does she look at him like she's known him for years?