A/N: I really thought my muse was gone irrevocably with this story, but surprisingly it's not. I've written/rewritten this who knows how many times yet still didn't get to include everything I wanted. I feel this chapter is straight filler, but sometimes filler isn't so bad because you can focus on character development without the bells and whistles of an intricate action-packed plot. So yeah, filler is good, ha! THANK YOU, loves for the reviews, the addition to your lists, and mostly importantly your patience. And if you haven't heard by now, which may be a bit impossible, but Bamon has been nominated for Ship of the Year for the MTV Fandom of the Year Awards. (Like this is a legit award) If you don't have a Tumblr, make one, like and reblog the heck out of the post. You got until July 8th. BAMON 5EVER! Enjoy the chapter.

"When you came back…was it easy for you to slide back into your old life?" Bonnie unconsciously ran her knuckles along the contour of her jaw; vision focused on something miles away, more accurately to that moment where she stood in the cave and the energy shot through her and in the next second she was on hallowed ground.

Damon turned away from the logs burning in the hearth. He faced Bonnie absorbing the faraway look in her eyes. She was situated on the couch, hugging a decorative pillow to her chest. Damon joined her, sitting on the opposite end.

They had spent all day together searching for the perfect gift for Stefan and were back at her place after inhaling copious amounts of cheese, pasta, and homestyle meatballs.

Bonnie finally stopped staring at a point on the wall and made eye contact with Damon. "Was it easy?"

He flashed a here-and-gone smirk, "Pretty much. Discovered my brother was living as an auto mechanic and my girlfriend forgot she loved me," Damon made a sliding motion with his arm, "wasn't difficult to pick up the baton and run with it."

"But how did it feel?"

Ah, this, Bonnie's persistent questioning, Damon remembered with some fondness. She could beat a topic to death and still demand you care as if it were the last thing in life you'd ever get to talk about.

Damon thought for a moment before replying. Usually he answered questions he didn't want to be bothered with, with flippancy and boredom. But he recognized Bonnie needed his candor more than his sarcasm.

"It felt," he paused briefly, "it felt like the previous times I would get missing in the world, do my own thing, and meet up with Stefan again just to antagonize him. The only difference this time…was realizing I had to start over from scratch with a girl who actually loved me," he stared at his daylight ring.

That first encounter with Elena had been surreal. The way she looked at him like a stranger, but also with hints of fear and even slight disgust; her closing the door in his face. That hurt worse than dying, but Damon easily recovered and figured he'd just delve into old habits, and wear her down with his consuming charm. However, getting Bonnie back had been tantamount to anything else, even his personal life.

Now armed with the knowledge that Elena was considering having the compulsion lifted…left him in a state of…Damon didn't even know how to label it. He'd analyze it to death later.

The elder Salvatore studied Bonnie closely. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Bonnie answered honestly. "When I came back as the anchor I was just happy to be alive even with the knowledge that the rest of my life would suck majorly. But I made a choice to look at that second chance as a gift. This time around I don't have to look over my shoulder, excuse myself from a room before a dead supernatural passes through me. I'm myself again but I feel…odd. For the first time in a long time I have no idea what's coming next."

"Scary," Damon wiggled his brows, "it's like transitioning. You understand the fundamentals but the process itself has you—emotionally anyways, twisting and turning in a million different directions and you want it to stop but you don't know how to make it stop."

"Right," Bonnie agreed fervently and curled her legs under her. "I'm alive," she inspected her arms, "I have my powers, I'm not the anchor, but I still feel like a part of me has changed irrevocably."

"That's because it has," Damon shifted, sitting closer to Bonnie this time, their knees touching. "No one goes through what we went through and what you went through and come out exactly the same. It wouldn't be realistic. Whatever you're feeling right now, you don't have to feel it alone."

Bonnie smiled and played with her fingers, "Are you offering to be my emotional buddy?"

Damon winced mostly at the word "emotional". "Uh, no. Drinking buddy, Monopoly opponent, grunge laureate, I'm down. Anything involving tears and snot I can't help you."

"You're such a comfort, Damon."

"I try. Hang on a second," he was off the couch making Bonnie's hair fly into her face, and was back in five seconds.

She stared up at him wondering what he was concealing since both arms were behind his back. "What are you doing?"

"Upholding my end of the bargain."

Ms. Cuddles came into view and Bonnie's face completely brightened. She reached for her bear, but Damon held it out of reach. "I want you to know I lost a ton of cool points toting this thing around in a back pack as if it were my newborn infant."

"Well who told you to do that?"

Once more he was seated beside the newly returned witch and made Ms. Cuddles dance over to Bonnie before the stuffed animal's embroidered mouth kissed her on the cheek.

Bonnie giggled and snatched the bear out of Damon's hands.

He snorted, "I thought you'd be a bit more appreciative of the fact I took such great care of your childhood rag doll. Next time I'll just tie it to the back of my bumper and drive around town."

Green eyes pitched toward heaven but the smile never left Bonnie's face. "You bear-napped her."

"Semantics."

Bonnie covered up a yawn with the back of her hand.

"Uh-oh someone is getting sleepy."

"I've had a very trying day. Being dragged from store to store because some indecisive dude couldn't make up his mind. Shopping with Caroline has made me appreciate how anal and organized she is compared to you."

"Ouch," Damon grabbed his heart. "Next are you going to tell me Jeremy is funnier than me? I know his face inspires chuckles."

Bonnie smacked his arm but couldn't keep a lid on her giggles. Her eyes began to droop.

Damon frowned and appraised Bonnie… glowing caramel skin, soul captivating pea green eyes, a mouth made for kissing. What probably caught Damon off guard the most were her freckles. It had been rare that Damon had seen Bonnie without makeup. Even in 1994 as she never left her bedroom without being showered, dressed, perfectly coiffed to do a full day of nothing.

Seeing them made her annoyingly adorable.

He did a quick count since Bonnie was otherwise preoccupied with drifting off to sleep. Twenty-eight in total spread from cheek to cheek and across the bridge of her nose.

Rising to his feet, Damon loomed over Bonnie then scooped her and Ms. Cuddles up where he deposited them both in her bedroom. He watched as Bonnie snuggled into a ball after he removed her shoes, and pulled the duvet over her. Damon's busy little fingers couldn't help themselves. They traced the curve of her cheek, fingered her hair before tucking it behind her lobe.

It took about three tries for Damon to force himself away from the bed, away from Bonnie and back downstairs. He cleared away their remnants from dinner, found some spare linens to set up fort on the couch. He wasn't driving back to Georgia and the idea of crashing at Ric's was wholly unappealing. He disrobed, shut off the lights, took up residency on the couch, but couldn't get his mind to shut off.

It did eventually…

…Morning came and Bonnie scrutinized Damon as he slept. She had a pretty good feeling that he was wide awake but was faking the funk. Still, Bonnie couldn't help but find herself being mesmerized by the rise and fall of his muscled chest and knotted stomach, and how her pristine white sheets pooled around his waist hinting at the fact he was perfectly nude underneath. Even in sleep Damon Salvatore was a beguiling creature of unalloyed beauty and immeasurable sex appeal. He exuded it from his pores, a sort of feral magnetism that only fellow carnivores wouldn't find intimidating.

She balled her hands into fists to knock it off—her wayward thoughts.

Bonnie sighed quietly but it was loud enough to rouse Damon. His eyelashes twitched, lids fluttered open and he was looking right at her—unabashedly.

Bonnie's cheeks blotted red and she momentarily averted her gaze before glancing at Damon. "Sorry, don't mean to stand here like a creeper."

The recalcitrant vampire grinned, stretched his arms above his head before dragging a hand along his chest that went missing underneath the sheet. "I'm not gonna complain about a hot girl watching me sleep," he disputed huskily.

A strong dose of shyness doused Bonnie, and she wondered what he was doing with that hand. "I…um…just wanted to let you know I'm about to head over to Whitmore to register for spring classes."

Pushing up on his elbows, Damon nodded. "All right. I can drop you off."

"You don't have to do that. I have a few errands I need to run after taking care of college stuff. Help yourself to whatever you need. I'll see you later, Damon," Bonnie immediately left and was almost to the door before her name was called.

Damon was standing, the sheet wrapped precariously low around his waist, hair tousled. Bonnie gulped hoping she didn't look…affected.

"Be careful. The weather is supposed to turn crappy around midday. Rain and sleet."

"I will be," Bonnie promised and slipped out of her house to face the cold, wintry day.

Damon dropped the sheet and eyeballed his erection.

The campus of Whitmore wasn't completely empty as Bonnie suspected. Quite a few people milled around the administration building. Currently she sat in a visitor chair in her student advisor's office waiting to hear if she could register for spring semester classes. She already had the check ready to hand over to the registrar to cover the cost of tuition, and other miscellaneous fees.

Ms. Roche turned from her monitor and offered Bonnie an officious smile. Her flaming red hair was cut into a sleek bob that cupped the sharp angles of her cheekbones. A vast majority of the administration already fled to begin their holidays, but Ms. Roche was attired as if she were about to step inside a court or boardroom.

Her bright grey eyes focused on Bonnie with a laser sharp intensity that caused the younger woman to squirm slightly. "The hold on your account has now been removed. You're free to register for classes. If you wish to graduate within the four years you're going to have to take a full load. Eighteen credits and possibly even summer school to catch up."

Bonnie licked her lips. "I'm ready to do whatever's necessary for me to graduate on time. I know my record has been kind of spotty."

"Nevertheless," Ms. Roche continued in her no-nonsense demeanor, "you've held steady at a 3.3 GPA. Have you decided on a major? You're still listed as undecided."

"As much as I love history I don't think teaching is my thing. I've been looking into the Women Studies program…but I guess I need a few more weeks to decide."

"It's all right. Take your time. But you will need to declare soon so we can start preparing for what you'll do after you graduate. Sheila Bennett was your grandmother?"

"She was," Bonnie intoned, her hackles up, throat tightening.

Ms. Roche stretched her lips into a barely believable smile. "I never got the chance to meet her, but I've heard nothing but good things about her. She taught Occult Studies…you're not interested in the program?"

"At the moment, no."

An immaculately trimmed eyebrow rose but Ms. Roche refrained from commenting. She taped a few keys and the whirl of her printer caught Bonnie's ear.

"I'm printing off a recommended list of general courses you should enroll in. You don't have to stick to that list if you don't want to."

Bonnie accepted the sheet once it was done printing. She skimmed the contents. "Are there any programs of study you recommend for someone who's undecided?" green eyes lifted over the top of the paper to stare at the advisor.

Ms. Roche capped her pen and placed it on her super neat credenza. "Do you like science?"

Bonnie shrugged noncommittally. "I've been an okay student in that subject."

"So no astrophysics then?"

"No," Bonnie laughed.

"Here," Ms. Roche plucked a book off the built-in shelves situated behind her desk, and passed the thick volume over to Bonnie. "It's an exhaustive list of courses offered here at Whitmore and surrounding colleges. Goes into detail about the curriculum outlining each class and student expectations. Perhaps you'll see something that will tickle your fancy. You can keep that."

"Thank you."

"Did you have any questions?"

"No, I just wanted to get my account straightened out."

"Everything is taken care of, Bonnie. If you do encounter any problems, get in contact with me immediately. I'm glad you've decided to reenroll. Admission always drops after the fall semester, but I'm happy you're giving Whitmore a second chance."

"Me too. Well, thank you for everything. Enjoy the holidays," Bonnie stuffed the manual and other materials in her satchel and promptly left.

She walked down the hall and heard the unmistakable sound of Alaric's voice. Her steps slowed as she debated whether to poke in and say hello, but the decision was halted when she heard Elena speaking.

"Not everyone liked the idea of me erasing Damon from my memories but supported my decision. Now…now that I want to reinstate my memories…I'm getting mixed results."

"Well you shouldn't base this decision on popular opinion, Elena because essentially it's your mind we're talking about. Your memories."

"I understand that, Ric, I do." Elena sighed. Bonnie pictured she was gnawing into her lower lip, a habit of hers when she was either indecisive or trying to work out a variable. "But I also get the sense that my friends think I'm doing this because…"

"Because what?" Alaric prompted at her hesitation.

"Because of how close…this is stupid. I'm being stupid."

The creak of a chair sounded and Bonnie imagined that Alaric either got up or adjusted himself in his seat. "Let me finish that sentence for you. People think you want to have the compulsion lifted because of Bonnie and Damon's newfound friendship."

Elena didn't say anything but the expression on her face probably said it all. She had a way of answering questions with a look that could be interpreted a million different ways and never touch on her actual thoughts or feelings.

Her silence was deafening and Bonnie found herself pressing closer to the wall right outside of Alaric's office. She was almost close enough to peep inside.

"That's not the reason I want to do this. I explained it to Bonnie and she wasn't exactly thrilled."

"But again this isn't a decision for Bonnie or anyone to make. You wanted me to take away your memories of Damon for a damn good reason, Elena."

"You never saw it as an act of cowardice? I mean…Stefan lost his brother that's he known for over a hundred and sixty-two years, packed his bags, started another life. He didn't…he didn't resort to using drugs to hallucinate Damon, and he didn't start eating people because of a side effect."

"But he did go and pick fights with random losers and got the crap kicked out of him."

What? Bonnie mashed her eyebrows together in confusion.

"It was his way of coping which was a bit healthier in a psychotic way, I suppose, than what I was doing," Elena contended. "The only person who got hurt was Stefan."

Things grew quiet again.

"I was…I was a bit unfair to him," Alaric admitted quietly. "Let me rephrase…I was an asshole."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought Stefan wasn't pulling his weight in trying to find a way to get Damon back. To me he just came off cavalier like their years, centuries of being brothers meant nothing to him since he packed his bags and ran. It wasn't until I talked to Caroline who talked to Bonnie and she broke everything down. Stefan was coping in the only way he knew how and instead of putting myself in his shoes, I condemned him for something that had the situation been reversed I probably would have done the same. He lost his only family but I was too stuck on my shit to realize that."

"We've taken them for granted. Stefan and Bonnie. I don't feel close to my best friend anymore."

"She's died twice, had to live as an anchor for a year reliving the pain of a supernatural's death. She was stuck alone with Damon for four months. I wouldn't expect her to be the same after everything she's gone through."

"I know I shouldn't ask this but…how close do you think they got?"

"I don't know."

"I said to Matt on the day Jeremy died that Damon 'actually kind of loves her'. I think it goes both ways now."

"Does that bother you?"

Elena didn't answer right away and Bonnie realized she was holding her breath. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on Elena's and Alaric's conversation, but she couldn't make her feet move and carry her out of the administration building for nothing. And it was a bit disconcerting to Bonnie to listen to her best friend talk about her to someone Bonnie wasn't that personally close to. Should she be offended? Or examine the situation as to getting insight into Elena's true feelings?

"Would it make me a crappy person if I said yes?"—Bonnie found she wasn't surprised but nonetheless stung—"I read my diary, Ric. Damon, according to me, was devoted to me that it seemed impossible for him to love anyone else. I'm not saying I want that back…it's just overwhelming. And Bonnie…she's only really loved one person and that person just so happened to be my brother. Now she and Damon are friends. It's weird. I want my memories back because I'm tired of the questions."

"Then have a seat."

Bonnie took that as her cue to leave. She walked out of the administrative building unsure of how to feel about what she overheard. Elena proclaiming Damon loved her long before they were sucked up into a prison world together…her best friend possibly being jealous of her friendship with her ex-boyfriend (as if Damon couldn't have more than one friend in his life or love more than one person at a time)…Stefan becoming masochistic. It was too much jumbled and tangled vines curling through the spaces in her brain.

In either case, Bonnie knew things would have to come to a head in her "friendship" with Elena. Yet she found this surreal. For all their years of knowing one another, Bonnie never pictured the day that her friend would be marginally envious of her when Bonnie felt Elena always had everything.

Later that same day Bonnie held up a wall in her old dorm room as everyone convened to draw names out of a hat for Secret Santa. Elena had smiled warmly at Bonnie who returned the gesture with a wane grin in return. She didn't know if the doppelganger's memories were restored, but observed as Elena slithered up to Damon, shyly told him hello, but that was all she did. Damon curtly acknowledged her.

The witch's crooked mouth twitched.

Someone came to stand next to Bonnie. She glanced up at the person. "Hello, Ric," her greeting carried an edge.

"How much of our conversation did you hear?"

Bonnie wasn't surprised, she retorted blandly, "Was it my perfume that gave me away?"

Ric sipped from a cup of eggnog. "They say a picture is worth a thousand words. They haven't seen your face when you're analyzing."

A tiny smile curled Bonnie's lips. "Guess this means I need to work on my poker face."

"You could have interrupted at any time."

"I could have but what point would that have served?"

Alaric lifted a shoulder. "I guess it wouldn't have served a purpose but perhaps thrown down a gauntlet."

"And I don't fight my friends over guys. That isn't my style and there's not a fight to be had." Pause. "Did she do it?"

Caroline interrupted their interlude. "Bonnie, it's your turn to pick."

Pushing away from the wall, Bonnie dug her fingers into the hat, rooted around and withdrew a folded scrap of paper. Crushing it in her hand she headed back to her spot on the wall and unfurled the tiny ball of parchment.

She gave nothing away as to the identity of the person she had to go out and buy a twenty-five dollar gift for.

Alaric bent down and whispered close enough to her ear. "I pulled Liv. Want to trade?"

Bonnie vehemently shook her head.

Damon spied his drinking buddy and Bonnie off in their own little world. Now that they were under the same room, he could get in Ric's ass about Jo. He didn't excuse himself as he made the short trek to the other side of the room, planting himself in front of the witch and former hunter.

"He's not giving you trouble is he?" Damon jerked his head in Alaric's direction.

Bonnie reached for the glass in Damon's hand, helped herself to a sip, and handed it back. "He'd actually have to be a threat to give me trouble."

"Hey!"

Damon and Bonnie laughed at Alaric's offended visage.

"I'll be back in a minute," Bonnie ran her hand down Damon's arm, pointedly stared at Ric, and meandered over to Caroline.

The two vampires didn't say anything, too caught up in tailing after Bonnie.

Alaric snapped out of it first. "What is it, Damon?"

Ric anticipated his reprieve wouldn't be long and his assumption had been correct. Damon was a stubborn bastard and you could either hate or admire him for his tenacity, but most of the time he was hated for it.

"I could have come over to say hello."

"Ah, yeah not buying it so out with it," Alaric demanded and chucked the paper cup he'd been drinking out of towards the nearest receptacle.

Damon took up the spot Bonnie vacated along the wall. "Have you been able to dig up anything useful on Jo? I'm trying to be courteous and let you handle fluffer duties."

"Dick," Alaric said under his breath. Damon heard regardless. The college instructor cleared his throat. "I haven't been able to sit down and interrogate her," he threw a scathing look at Damon, "she actually has a demanding career. But…a week or so after she and I met…I tried to compel her to forget about me because I was having trouble controlling my blood cravings. She blanked out for a minute, laughed, and said she'd be the judge on whether I'm a good guy or not. It was like my compulsion had no effect on her."

Only one type of being couldn't be compelled. "She's a witch," Damon arrived at the obvious conclusion.

"That would be my guess. Haven't read up on the literature, but I don't believe you can be a witch and traveler at the same time since travelers believe witches are the true abominations."

Damon laughed darkly. "The irony. And unless they had a sense of humor, I don't think they'd inhabit the body of a witch."

"Does this mean Jo is off your no-fly list?"

Turning to Alaric, Damon clapped him on the shoulder. "Nope."

"Damon, come on! You said you've never met her before, right?" Reluctantly Damon nodded. Alaric persisted, "What possible motive other than a coincidental one would she have? So what she used to work at a company that made chips and one was removed from you. Since you destroyed the evidence it can't be traced back to where it originated from."

"I know I've made a lot of poor calls in the past," Damon rebutted, "but my instincts about newbies in town have never been wrong."

Alaric was itching to throw out Katherine but refrained. It would have been a low blow, a righteous one, but a low blow nonetheless. Plus, that had no bearing on the fact Damon was…right. Damon had suspected he had been up to no good because Alaric wouldn't stop asking the blue-eyed vamp personal questions at the 50's decade dance. Anyone new popping up into town was immediately thrown under Damon's microscope of suspicion and their motives would undergo an autopsy.

"Until you come up with proof that exonerates Jo I'm gonna have to give her side-eye," Damon hunched a shoulder. "It's not personal. I've died, gone to hell, come back and I've done that twice now. So don't expect me to let what happened to me go, brush it off as some vampire hating bigot trying to decrease numbers. Something bigger could be going on and I'm making damned sure I know about it—first."

"Well," Alaric stared at his boots, "as someone who's died multiple times and lived as a ghost for a little over a year, I can't really…argue with that. You just got back and I understand you don't want to die again. My only advice to you, Damon should you take it is…don't exacerbate a problem without due cause. What happened to you could have been an isolated event—"

"—I doubt that."

"—or it could be as you said…something that's part of a much larger scheme." Alaric moved into Damon's space, "If you hurt Jo and she ends up having nothing to do with your kidnapping, I will tie you up like a pretzel."

The older vampire stared at Alaric drolly prior to smiling brilliantly. Yet Damon's smile transmuted into a scowl. "If you can I'll certainly applaud you for it."

"You forget…I'm kind of an Original. Original trumps chump vampires, and I have kicked your ass before."

"You got lucky," Damon dismissed. "I managed to snap an Original's neck all on my own. And no, it wasn't because I eat me spinach three times a day."

"Asshole."

"Right back at you, handsome," Damon stiffened and inhaled. He smelled the pungent odor of teenaged boy and when he looked away from Alaric he caught Jeremy hustling Bonnie out into the hallway.

BDBDBDBDB

Warm fingers curled around Bonnie's elbow. She was familiar enough with the touch to know whom it belonged to. Inwardly she sighed before turning to face the interloper.

Jeremy's earnest brown eyes stared at her. He offered Bonnie a tentative yet hopeful smile that she couldn't help but return.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" he queried.

"Sure."

The two of them stepped outside into the hallway. "I have an early Christmas present for you."

"Jeremy you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but I wanted to," he picked up the wrapped gift that was propped up beside the door. He handed the neatly wrapped package over to Bonnie.

"Thank you."

"You can open it now. If you want."

Bonnie gauged him for a moment wondering if the answer to what was inside would appear in the twitch of Jeremy's brow, or the curl of his mouth. Swallowing, Bonnie ripped apart the thin paper decorated with jovial, red cheeked St. Nicholas'. Jeremy collected the pieces that fluttered to the floor.

He waited for the verdict.

"Oh…" Bonnie blinked. Heat suffused in her naval cavity and spread everywhere.

In her hands was a framed drawing of Bonnie with her entire family. Her mouth fell open as she ran a finger under each carefully, realistically, and meticulously drawn face of, "Grams…dad…Abby…me," she whispered.

He didn't say a word or made a move. Jeremy saw a vein protrude from Bonnie's temple as she repressed the urge to cry, but he saw two crystal tears fall and land on the frame glass regardless of her effort.

She looked up him finally. "Thank you. This is probably…this is probably the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me."

"I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't so sure. I thought it might make you upset."

Bonnie shook her head and laughed woodenly, hugging the frame to her chest. Jeremy had given her something she didn't have that plenty others did: a family portrait. "No, I'm not upset." She stepped forward and gave Jeremy a one-armed embrace and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'm gonna go…put this in my car."

She walked off without going back inside Caroline and Elena's dorm room for her coat.

Once at her car, Bonnie sat in the backseat staring at her Christmas gift. She broke down, sobbing until her shoulders trembled. She wasn't sure how long she had been gone but someone was looming in front of her.

Damon spied the picture frame lying in her lap, a crease of worry splintered between his brows. As much as he wanted to dis it, Damon couldn't. Jeremy had given her something beautiful and as much as the toad annoyed him, he'd done something for Bonnie hardly anyone else could do.

"Bonnie…"

She hastily wiped her tears, sniffled, and used her shirt sleeve as tissue. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey…"

"Please, Damon."

"Talk to me."

Bonnie fell back against the seat, avoiding making eye contact with Damon. She didn't want him to see her like this. "I can't…I can't even go and visit their graves," her voice didn't sound like her own. It was strained with emotion—sadness, anger, resignation.

"It's harder this year," she confided. "Last year when I was the anchor I saw and talked to Grams on Christmas and New Year's. I didn't go visit my dad's grave. I couldn't because I kept imagining the last time I saw him was the day he was murdered in front of the whole damn town and no one did anything to help him."

Damon scooted into her backseat, wrapped am arm around Bonnie's shoulder, drawing her closer.

"They had been compelled to not even…care he was lying on a stage bleeding to death. A modern day lynching without a rope," she snorted heatedly. Damon tensed. He remembered those times. "And this year…" her eyes watered and nose tingled, "I can't even go. I can't even go," she repeated softly and brokenly.

He kissed her forehead and held Bonnie while she sobbed against him, shoulders trembling in an effort to hold in the agony she was feeling on the inside. Her relationship with her dad had never been iron tight, but witnessing his murder and being completely helpless to help him was worse than having her hands and feet tied while sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

"It's okay," Damon whispered reassuringly. "You'll be okay, Bonnie. Your biological family might not be with you, but you have another family that's here for you."

She jerked away from him. "What family, Damon? Hun? The one where one of my best friends can't get over her shit to see the shit I've gone through, my ex screwed whatever walked by to cope with his grief, people who only talked to me when they needed their ass to be saved? What family?"

Seeing Bonnie this emotional was a bit jarring for Damon. He had grown accustomed to seeing her ready to face off with their latest enemy with her chin jutted up proudly, and her steely resolve. But seeing her peel back the layers and unearth the fragile girl that lived inside a cage of supernatural make believe was akin being punch-drunk.

"You have me," Damon brokered.

Bonnie mopped her face and averted her gaze out the window. "Until Elena gets her memories back. Then it'll be 'Bonnie who?'"

Damon wormed his fingers under Bonnie's chin and turned her face back towards his. He was pissed—she remarked. "Let's get something straight. I know I ain't shit, but once you're in here," he lifted Bonnie's hand and placed it right over his heart and softened his tone, "it's impossible to cleave you out. And you're in there, Bonnie. Family lives in your heart."

Her cheeks were flushed, nostrils flared, lashes were clumped together with tears that shrouded red-streaked eyes. Neither of them said a word as their paradigm shifted, rewired inside them both, and in this moment were inexplicably drawn to one another.

She appraised Damon like he transformed right in front of her, which was absurd because he hadn't done a damn thing. He didn't say any magical words that instantly kicked her melancholy to the curb, or triggered unmitigated happiness to flood her nervous system. But what he said calmed the unraveling that had been happening within. She began feeding off his presence and nearness because Damon never seemed to be closer to her now. Closer then when they lied down on a bed and cuddled together. However space had still separated them that night. Today there didn't seem to be any boundaries, no lines they had to be sure never to cross.

Bonnie had the means to crush this moment if she muttered a specific name, but she made a choice. Fuck it. People had a difficult time accepting her friendship with Damon…fuck it. Were jealous…fuck it. He said without having to say that he loved her. She was going with that.

The pad of his thumb wiped her tears away and Bonnie watched enthralled as Damon slipped his digit in his mouth, tasting her grief.

She drew in a ragged breath. Bonnie didn't move or jerk when Damon kissed her forehead again. He opened his mouth to speak but Bonnie pressed her fingers to his lips.

"You said enough. Just be with me."

Damon's gaze roamed over Bonnie's face. He puckered his lips and kissed her fingers. Bonnie couldn't deny a zing catapulted through her. And a thought so unlike her sprang forward.

Damon must have had ESP, read her mind because he pulled her fingers off his mouth, leaned forward, eyes shutting.

For one dizzying second, Bonnie panicked. She knew Damon's intentions, knew what he going to do.

Bonnie didn't have time to finish her thought. Damon's lips were on hers. His eyes were closed while hers remained perfectly open. It was happening to her, the gentle coaxing of his soft, pliant lips against hers, but Bonnie wanted to be an eyewitness to it. A noise of uncertainty escaped from the tiny opening of her mouth, yet Damon didn't take advantage by deepening the kiss. He wasn't pressing forcefully like he was drunk with passion and lust. His lips formed effortlessly with hers lulling Bonnie to relax. She did, shifting for a better angle and finally…finally her eyes drifted and she consummated the first stage of falling in love with Damon Salvatore.

But of course she didn't know that.

A/N: EEP. What's going to happen next? Until next time. Love you babies. Review!