A/N: Thanks to the Guest for the prompt: what if Damon met Bonnie first, not Elena. This is a teeny tiny little piece but I hope you enjoy anyway. I love re-writing Delena scenes (or, should I say correcting lol).

v. What if?

This is life, he thinks, hands against damp tarmac, stare on the heavy moon, waiting. He'd kicked his shoes over street after street, humming the national anthem like a true patriot, and licking the dark lunch-stains from his lips, before deciding on this spot to lie plank-esque, his perfected killing trap. There is a wanton pleasure in his victims concerned faces hovering over his frame – the moral panic. Adorable, really.

Damon flicks his eyes shut in the boredom, harnessing his hearing to pick up the rumble of a car.

"Elena, I'm fine. I just needed a walk… No, I'm not drunk, I'm-"

He's sprung on his feet before the girl can finish her sentence. She laughs. Unusual reaction.

"Shit, you scared me," She takes the phone from her ear and pushes it into her pocket, "You from the party?"

It isn't often he lets them get the first word in, a scream maybe sure, if he's feeling generous, but a question? Compulsion bites before small talk.

"Let me guess, beer in plastic cups, testosterone teenagers? Not really my scene."

"Mine neither."

Her gaze falls to the puddle between them and he has an unfamiliar urge to ask the girl her name.

"I'm Damon," he offers instead.

She lifts a brow, it teases her face, soft, pretty. "Are you going to kidnap me, Damon?"

Drunk. The liar. His smirk pricks the corner of his mouth, "Lucky for you, I already have someone on my mind."

"Well, that's terrifying," she says dryly, then, with a smile, "I hope she kicks you in the balls."

"What's your name?" he rushes, because she's intriguing him. Over a century on this earth has a way of dampening one's curiosity – she's different, refreshing.

"Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett."

Ah. That's why. Damon pushes the surprise into neutrality, "Lovely to meet you, Bonnie Bennett."

She laughs again, he even flinches at the lightness of it. "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

There are some similarities, he thinks, chasing the arcs of her features under moonlight, definitely an Emily Bennett spark. "Here, on the road, or here in life?"

"I don't know," she lifts her eyes to his, a falling motion that brushes like the heartbeat he no longer has. "Both, maybe?"

He's going to have to use her. It's almost sad, but he's waited too long to let a witch with striking eyes prevent his chance of rescuing Katherine. He closes the distance, armed to compel, and –

"What do you want from life, Bonnie?"

She stills with his sudden proximity, but doesn't retreat. The question is absorbed by her eyes, he sees it, a fluttering hope.

"I don't know."

A second lie. "Yes, you do. You know exactly what you want."

Her voice lowers: "And what's that, strange man in the middle of the road?"

Just compel her, idiot. But he can't, not yet. He wants this moment – wants her to have it too. "You want everything. Every taste of life."

"That sounds… overwhelming-"

"Exciting."

And she smiles, made a little more alive in the promise. "Have you?"

"Have I what?"

Her brow curves again. "Tasted life?"

"Not quite," he whispers and delivers the compulsion before she can ask what.

I wouldn't know, anyway.

A/N: I like to think the 'Not quite' is true love. Yay for Bamon fulfilling that gap. Please review! Will be back soon with another, longer, one-shot…