A/N: *Borrowing from one of my favorite monologues* I had to fight. Had to fight my laziness. Had to fight my procrastination. A muse ain't safe in a family of idleness. But here is the latest. I hope you enjoy and thank you bunches for the reviews.

Cherise Tomlinson woke up cold and in pain. She had no clue where she was. It was too dark to see. If she had to guess she would say she was underground somewhere that smelled like damp earth and…sulfur. Swallowing the wad of cotton in her mouth, Cherise attempted to sit up but found her wrists and ankles were bound by iron and that iron was imbedded in rock.

"Fuck," she cried, heart pounding.

The hairs on her arms rose as if she stepped into an electromagnetic field. Someone or a lot of someone ones was coming straight for her.

"Oh, god," Cherise wrestled with the chains, pulling and tugging but only accomplishing in stretching her muscles and ligaments. Her head was fuzzy and she couldn't remember where she had been last or what happened, yet her innate need to survive screamed she was in trouble and needed to run.

That was impossible.

A groan cut through the clang of the chains and Cherise whipped her head at the noise. "Is someone there?"

"Ugggh."

"Hello?"

Someone else was captured down here with her. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. "If you're awake, please…say something."

Silence.

Chanting, Cherise was hearing chanting.

The cold air grew icier. Cherise couldn't see her breath but pictured it rushing from her mouth in vaporous clouds. Heart in her throat, Cherise's teeth chattered and she wished she could shrink away, hide.

They were here.

She couldn't see them but sensed they were staring at her. Then…one by one she began to see swirling silver eyes.

Cherise screamed but her horrified cries were cut abruptly. A pair of those mercury orbs loomed right above her. The frightened woman tried to turn her head, look away, but icy fingers clamped around her chin and forced her to stare straight ahead.

Her mouth was forced open and a flood of cold gelatin entered her orifice. Cherise jerked and struggled at the onslaught, and what she couldn't see were her brown irises crystallizing to silver.

Luc Moreau shed his fashionable jacket, blindly handing it off to Caroline who took it damn near obediently. Damon looked between the newcomer and Bonnie who hadn't so much as blinked in the last twenty seconds. Something familiar burned. Insecurity, perhaps. It made Damon's jaw flex. The short of it, he didn't like the way they were looking at each another.

Elena shared that sentiment to a slightly different degree.

Damon was far too interested in surveilling Bonnie while she stared intently at the latest guest. From what Elena could see, the new guy was very cute. She'd give him that.

That wasn't the concerning thing though. Damon's abrupt confession about kissing someone and not wanting the kiss to mean nothing, Damon living with Bonnie, the two of them showing up and appearing chummier than she could recall them ever being. It all culminated into one hard fact.

Damon was falling for her best friend.

Elena's slower than normal heartbeat pounded, and that notorious vein in her forehead fattened with a thousand prickling emotions. Damon liked Bonnie. And the shift happened right under her nose.

How could they do that to her? To HER?! Elena placed all her rage, feelings of betrayal, and hurt into the glare she leveled at Damon. It was yesterday when they stood in the cemetery where he told her he pictured a life with her from the moment he saw her. It was yesterday she rode shotgun as they drove hell for leather into Mystic Falls before they were killed from traveler magic. It was yesterday that her heart was ripped out the day Damon didn't make it back from the other side and left her to wander eternity alone. But today he was back and today he liked her best friend?

That just didn't compute.

Elena had a mind to grab the nearest bottle and bash it over Damon's head, and thrusting the remaining shard into Bonnie's chest.

She inhaled sharply at where her mind had just gone. Elena blinked. "I need to get out of here."

Damon didn't hear or see her charge away.

At that point, Bonnie came downstairs.

Luc offered the petite witch his patented charming smile.

"Bonnie!" Caroline screeched. "Luc this here is my best friend Bonnie Bennet who is an ancient Latin-speaking Aquarius. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"She certainly is," Luc concurred, his smile widening despite Bonnie's tart expression. "It's nice seeing you again."

"Yeah," Bonnie hedged and swung her glare at Caroline who was beaming proudly. "You. Me. Kitchen. Now."

Golden eyebrows knitted together, but Caroline never once lost her somewhat manic grin, "We'll be right back, Luc. Make yourself at home."

In the kitchen, Bonnie let Caroline go who actually rubbed the area her arm had been captive in the witch's surprisingly strong grip.

"Are you a metahuman and didn't tell me?" Caroline griped. "Well I guess you are since you're a—"

"—Caro-line. Why is that guy here?"

"You mean Luc?"

"No, I mean Alaric. Of course I mean Luc! Why is he here?"

"I invited him," Caroline replied in a 'duh' tone.

"You know him?"

Caroline's brow wrinkled in confusion. She started to respond, stopped, and then slashed a dismissive hand in the air. "What does it matter if I know him? He's here and it's Christmas. The more the merrier."

If Bonnie didn't know any better she would say Caroline was under compulsion, because she hadn't been this much of an airhead since their freshman year in high school. The only beings capable of compelling vampires were Originals. The wheels began turning in Bonnie's mind. Who was the creator of the Originals? Esther. Was Luc a member of Esther's coven? His arrival and hers was too coincidental to be anything other than planned. Bonnie had sensed power in him, a low spark of power, but power nonetheless.

"Maybe you've forgotten our history when it comes to new people randomly showing up," Bonnie recapped.

"I understand that, but let's not make a big deal about it at least not tonight. If he tries anything, there're plenty of us," Caroline's teeth elongated and red spidery veins formed in the whites of her eyes, "who can make him wish he hadn't."

"I have a bad feeling about him, Caroline."

"Well I can't disinvite him since he's already here. But if you feel he's up to no good then it's a good thing he's here. He can be interrogated."

Out in the living room, Luc listened to their every word while Alaric took it upon himself to introduce him to the others.

In the kitchen Bonnie paused in thought. Caroline did have a point. "Fine. I guess we should get back out there."

"Yep." Caroline barred the door. "Before we do…is there something you want to tell me?" she arched a knowing brow.

Bonnie feigned ignorance. "Tell you what?"

"You smell like a particular Salvatore."

"We do live together."

"You're covered in his pheromones, Bonnie. That doesn't happen when you simply live with someone."

"Are you about to judge?"

"No."

Bonnie took in Caroline's bright-eyed countenance, and for just a second she let her guard down. Shucked the veil. The wave of emotions that burst out of the witch was so strong Caroline's skin pebbled.

"Damn, it's like that?"

"It is," Bonnie grinned like she was all of five years old.

Caroline had her misgivings. She hoped Bonnie's attachment wouldn't gain strength while Damon waffled on what he truly wanted. If he was waffling and what she had seen thus far, Caroline didn't think that was the case. However, Elena's memories were back, and when Elena wanted something she chased after it with a single-mindedness that could put the greatest narcissist to shame.

"I'm happy for you, Bonnie. I really am."

"Thanks."

The twosome filed out of the kitchen. Bonnie scanned the horde, her gazed narrowed on her target.

Luc had moved over to the food, picking his way through the choices. There was a mirror hanging on the wall to his left that he suddenly looked in. He caught Bonnie mean mugging him. A corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile and he winked.

He had been watching her for the better part of the night. Could rattle off her stats the same as reciting the alphabet. Ignoring her was difficult since she insisted on gyrating in his peripheral. Didn't leave much choice but to occasionally look.

He wasn't the only one who had a problem with not staring at her. She attracted the same amount of attention a feral lynx would do if it spontaneously prowled its way inside someone's home.

She smelled like a bakery, dressed like a celebutante. It wasn't the clothes, or the makeup or her smell, but the unspoken truths and pain hidden in her moss green eyes, and the tragedy that was her life she concealed in bright smiles that made her full cheekbones pop. She was guarded and sensuous almost haphazardly like sun and the moon hanging in the sky at the same time. Her talent lied in the way she could carry an entire conversation with a single quirk of her brow or the tilting of her chin. She was steam you wanted to feel beat against your skin when you're cold; the quiet girl that love stories were written about. To hear her tell it, her life wasn't glitz and glam but blood and guts leaving her as the mediator for those who were damned.

"I attract those who have piss and vinegar running through their veins. They come to me when they need an enema," she drunkenly confessed to Jo over a glass of Ciroc.

Bonnie Bennett had a colorful way of expressing herself, Luc gathered.

Quinn's drug connect came through, distributing herb, pills, or a psychedelic lozenge which Bonnie reluctantly popped in her mouth. Secret Santa was over and done with. She jingled the bracelet on her wrist given to her by Matt. She snickered quietly as she thought of the name Damon had pulled and his subsequent gift. Was it irony or something else that her current lover would pull Jeremy's name? Needless to say the latter was highly displeased with the self-help book he unwrapped, holding it up for those assembled to see.

"Act Like a Woman, Think Like a Man," Jeremy scowled. Damon clapped him on the shoulder and told him to take notes.

"Hold up," Enzo raised a hand. "I didn't get anything."

"Nobody likes you," Stefan asserted.

A few people snickered. Enzo glowered.

"You had to be there when we drew names," Caroline explained. "You weren't so you lucked out. Sorry." She faced Quinn who had been sitting on the sofa nursing a drink. "Were you able to get in touch with your friend?"

"He should be…"—a knock sounded on the door—"here," he concluded a second later.

That was nearly an hour ago and the effects of the drug coupled with the alcohol Bonnie swallowed equaled a cocktail in her stomach. She wandered from person to person, laughing, distancing herself from what she had seen earlier. Damon and Elena. Elena and Damon. They were…they were Bonnie couldn't think straight. Couldn't locate the proper label to give them. Was it too soon to feel jealous? Too early to lift her leg and pee on Damon? The thought made her giggle.

She locked gazes with Luc who saluted her with his drink and watched her intently as he sipped from the glass. "What do you want?"

Several people turned to look at her which Bonnie ignored. She had no idea she said it loud enough for anyone to hear.

Heat forced Bonnie to step outside sans jacket. The temperature had fallen and frost had settled on the bannister and twinkling lights. She sensed Luc behind her and when she glanced over her shoulder her suspicion was confirmed.

He crossed to stand next to her and Bonnie eyed him. She didn't remember him being quite so tall or…good-looking the first time they met. His almond brown skin, dark expresso eyes, the scent of his cologne sparked her preexisting goose bumps to pimple even more. Bonnie was shocked by her visceral reaction to him, to his presence and proximity.

She was attracted to him.

"All these people here," he said without prompt, "and you still feel alone. Don't you?"

Bonnie, poised to respond, snapped her jaws shut. She looked away from him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here because I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"Let's say you and I have more in common than you think, Bonnie."

Bonnie's chin dropped to her chest and she wagged her head. "Don't do this. Don't try to be mysterious and cryptic. I've dealt with men like you and you want to know what happened to them…they died."

Anyone else might have looked worried or alarmed. Luc was amused to Bonnie's annoyance.

"You have ice for blood," Luc angled his body toward her.

"I don't agree."

"Of course you don't. Decided on a major yet?"

The change in conversation caused Bonnie to blink. "I'm still thinking about it. But I've narrowed down my choices."

"What are they?"

"Media Arts, Communication, or Criminology."

Finally a note of surprise overtook Luc's cool features. "I would have assumed you might look into…never mind."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. Have any plans for the day after Christmas?"

Bonnie folded her arms across her chest. The cold was beginning to get to her. "Why do you want to know? I'm not hanging out with you."

Luc's smile brightened. "You might change your mind after this."

"After…"

Her words were cut off abruptly the moment Luc brushed his fingers along her temple, to her cheek, and along her jawline.

"Take your fucking hands off of her," Damon raged as he stepped out on the patio.

Luc's dark irises glinted, became silver-blue. Damon turned on his heel and went back inside. Focused on Bonnie once more, he drew closer, his lips touched hers, just a touch and he breathed into her open mouth.

The green hue of Bonnie's eyes was slowly overtaken by amber light. Her limbs lost sensation, but Luc cradled her so she wouldn't fall.

What did fall was Esther's talisman. Bonnie's glamour had worn off. The clasp released and Luc gingerly plucked it from around Bonnie's neck and stashed it in his pocket.

"You'll thank me for that," he whispered and released the temporary hold he placed on Bonnie. "You're too valuable to get swept up in her foolishness. But if you need me, say: Familiariter vos vocare sum. Sleep," he swept his fingers across her startled eyes. Her lids closed. He carried her back inside.

Damon was parked in front of the Christmas tree. The others were clustered together laughing or talking.

Caroline was on them in an instant, "What happened to her?"

Luc was back in charismatic mode. "I think the drinking caught up to her. She's fine."

"Give her to me, I'll take her to my room," Caroline stretched out her arms.

Luc lifted a brow but handed the out cold witch to her friend. "You got her?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for inviting me, Caroline. I had a good time, but I gotta blast."

Frowning slightly, Caroline jerked a nod, turned and made her way upstairs.

Her dreams made absolutely no sense.

She stood alone in the living room of her childhood home.

"Hello?"

Her voice was an echo that was easily swallowed as if plucked by an invisible force and stored in a basket like a ripe piece of fruit.

The quiet was replaced by what sounded like a pipe bursting. A cascade of water, gallons of water took the stairs two at a time, ate the rugs, pushed aside whatever stood in its way, crashed into the far wall, rose like a Geyser.

The living room filled. Quickly, as if the house had been dropped into an ocean. Her legs kicked as she was pushed toward the ceiling gasping for a breath. Bonnie inhaled one final time as the crown of her head came into contact with the ceiling. She was submerged. The furniture floated, books, the fire in the grate hadn't been extinguished.

Looking down at herself her legs turned into a mermaid's tail. She pirouetted and with each twirl her scales changed color: red, purple, seafoam, lavender, black. Her hair was a cloak that moved with the fluidity of ink, so long it surpassed that of her tail, thick enough it could have been mistaken for seaweed. Bubbles emitted from her nose and mouth as her body undulated toward the ceiling which was no longer there. As she broke the surface, she was staring up at the nighttime sky.

Bonnie was flying now. Her mermaid's tail was gone, legs were back, and she was suspended in the air without the use of wings. An inner buoyancy kept her steady in the air. She was Storm, a wind rider. The moon hung heavy like an egg and she raced toward it. The cold and lack of oxygen had no bearing on her as she was free from the bounds of gravity and the laws of humanness. She was a shooting star, an alien with indestructible skin.

She somersaulted, tucked her body into a pike once the earth was a mile beneath her, and down she came, her body dissolved into ice crystals; she was a cloud headed straight for the mouth of a volcano.

Bonnie dove head first into piping hot lava. She was fire and swam through the superhot, bright yellow thixotropic gook as if she were back in an aquatic habitat. The molten rock rose toward the opening of the volcano and she was spewed out, landed on dry earth.

What droplets of lava remained on her person fell off like water on a duck's feather. It cooled into pebbles of rock. Her body grew tired, lids heavy and she sank to the damp ground. The grass grew into vines, poison ivy that curled around her arms, legs, feet, hands, neck, wove into her hair. Her skin hardened like dry land. She was pulled within the earth's silicate surface and she was ash, clay.

Bonnie startled awake.

It was like a lightning storm in her head as her faculties returned at the same speed as a car's windshield defrosting. Bonnie buried her face in her hands. The last however many minutes—no hours were a blank.

That aside, where was Damon?

He was seated in a chair across from the bed. He got not one wink of sleep. He was missing some time and no one could give him any straight answers as to why he had been staring aimlessly at the Forbes' Christmas tree while Bonnie passed out.

But he had the answer.

Cracking his knuckles, Damon rolled his stiff shoulders. Luc had done something to the both of them. The blue-eyed vamp seemingly stopped caring about everything leaving the door wide open for anything to happen to Bonnie. She was safe. Damon understood that, but he couldn't look beyond the fact she could have been seriously hurt. He was a vampire and too damn vulnerable, and it was situations like the one from last night that bitch slapped him with reality. Standing against someone with the wherewithal to control him with a few whispered words or a thought, he was no match. How in the hell could he improve his odds?

Then Damon realized he was making this about himself. Bonnie's mind had been tampered with too. On top of that, Esther had been blowing up her phone.

He rose from the chair, grabbed the coffee cup that had been getting cold by the second, sat down on the edge of the bed. He stretched the coffee out to Bonnie.

"Drink this."

Bonnie lifted her head, stared at him a moment before taking the cup. She sipped tentatively, relishing the warmth of the caffeine and…

"You put bourbon in this?"

Solemnly, Damon nodded.

Scooting to prop up against the headboard, Bonnie drank some more. "What happened last night?"

"What do you remember?"

"I…I remember drinking, smoking a cigar," her brows pinched together. "I…I saw you talking to Elena."

"That's not important. Get back on track."

Irked, Bonnie's jaw tightened. "Why are you trying to sweep that aside?"

"You saw us talking which in the grand scheme of things is not a big deal. Nothing came of it."

"Did you tell her that we're together?"

Damon exhaled. "No."

Bonnie stared at her lap.

"But I'm sure she figured it out," Damon added.

Green crashed into blue.

"Elena's made a lot of dumb choices in her life, but I put enough breadcrumbs out there for her to figure out just how important you are to me. In the last twenty-four hours nothing's changed where you and I are concerned."

Relief surged through Bonnie's veins pushing the sluggishness and uncertainly out.

"What else do you remember?" Damon continued.

Bonnie gnawed the inside of her cheek, thinking. Her recollections were a hodgepodge she couldn't make heads or tails of. She could have danced, sung, did a dare, revealed a truth, but that could have been from years ago not last night. Bonnie scratched behind her ear. Her fingers brushed along her neck. That spurred a memory.

"Luc! He was here."

"Yes, that asshole," Damon growled.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No. What did he say to you? Can you remember?"

That entire conversation was an irritating blank. "No, but I do think he compelled Caroline to invite him to the party."

"He's a warlock."

"Looks like," Bonnie handed Damon the cup and rolled out of bed.

Damon listened as the sink faucet was turned on. He was up and on his feet when Bonnie gasped sharply. "What?"

Her hand was on her throat. "Esther's talisman, it's gone."

"Well ain't that fantastic," Damon mocked darkly. "One guess on who took it."

Even better question was: how did he get it off, if Luc was responsible for taking it.

Bonnie's phone buzzed. Their gazes drifted to the device Damon had dropped on the end table.

"It's probably Esther," he said as Bonnie went answer it. "She's been calling you all morning."

Damon was right. Mama Original was indeed the caller. "Hello?" Bonnie sat down on the bed.

"Good morning, glad I finally caught you. Do you have a minute to speak?"

"I do. What's up?"

There was a slight pause. "After some thinking…you have a deal, Bonnie. It's imperative we get the other side back up and running."

"You'll disinhibit Lenore?"

Another pause, longer this time. "Yes."

That was muttered grudgingly. "When do you want to do this?"

"On New Year's Day. The winter solstice would have been better, but that has come and gone. The start of the new year means renewal. Our powers will be stronger. There's more symmetry in it."

Symmetry, Bonnie had heard that word before spoken by Esther's very hybrid son. "All right. See you in a week."

"Take care, Bonnie."

Hanging up, Bonnie slapped her phone in the palm of her hand. Damon came to stand right in front of her, tilted her chin up with a finger.

"That gives us a week to suss out if she's working another agenda."

"How are we going to do that?" Damon wondered.

"I have…no idea. Guess we better get cracking on that research Alaric gathered."

"It's at the house."

On her feet, Bonnie shuffled forward while Damon crept backwards. She didn't stop advancing and Damon never stopped retreating until they were in the connecting bathroom. Bonnie kicked the door closed with the heel of her foot.

A search of the Forbes' cabin turned up nothing. The necklace was gone more than likely taken by Luc. That worried Bonnie and Damon considerably because they had no idea if he was working for Esther, someone else, or for himself. Any variable equated a threat.

On the drive home they talked and guessed at what the talisman could be used for.

"It sealed the Mikaelsons fate. Gave Esther the power to make them immortal," Bonnie said.

Damon theorized, "So it could be used to unravel their immortality."

"Possibly. Esther channeled living and dead Bennetts and was going to use Finn as the sacrifice to make the rest of her children human and then kill them. That was disrupted when you killed my mother."

Damon furtively glanced at Bonnie, shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel. "Right," he cleared his throat. "Then the talisman just kind of lost all importance."

"Until recently."

"Have you…forgiven me for…what I did to Abby?" Damon could kick himself for bringing this back up, but now that it was out there he needed to know. Elena wasn't the only obstacle between them.

Bonnie rubbed her forehead. Her mom, Grams, and dad were taken from her, and the only death she ever received an apology for had been Abby's, though the delivery was given condescendingly by the man driving her home. Four months together Damon never once brought up the subject of his turning Abby and if she had ever forgiven him for it. Faced with it now, Bonnie thought of her relationship with her mother—her non-existent relationship with Abby. Her becoming a vampire changed nothing. Yet the memory of it was potent enough to stir Bonnie's bitterness. What should have been sacred meant nothing to Damon and Stefan back then.

She swung her gaze toward him, "I don't want to blow us up in this car so let's not talk about Abby. Okay?"

"All right. I am…sorry, Bonnie."

She looked out the window. "I know, Damon."

He figured now would be the best time to reroute to their original conversation. "The talisman…"

"In the right or wrong hands," Bonnie interrupted, "it could do anything. We won't know what it's being used for until it happens. I just want to make it to the New Year with no bullshit."

Staring at her searchingly for a moment, Damon draped his hand atop hers. Bonnie maneuvered her hand, latched their fingers together.

Damon pulled into the neighborhood and a moment later parked in the driveway of their home. He killed the engine, unclipped his seatbelt, unclipped Bonnie's.

He dragged her across the seat.

Damon's gaze darkened. Bonnie's ears grew warmer by the second, her entire body actually.

The pad of his thumb grazed her cheek. Bonnie shivered at his touch.

Damon kissed her feverishly, uninhibitedly tasting her lips like he didn't want to get enough, like he never wanted to be satisfied. His tongue dove deep into her mouth, prodding hers, sliding, butting, licking, curling, rolling. Everything became heightened, sensitive that Bonnie believed she was in pain. From her hair, to her lips, her nipples, stomach, clit, ass, legs, feet. There was hardly any part of her that wasn't throbbing in concert with her pounding heart.

Bonnie shoved her hands in Damon's hair bringing his face impossibly close. She was cutting off her own air supply by how far burrowed her nose was in his cheek. Bonnie didn't care.

Breaking the kiss off with playful nips to her throat and shoulder, Damon said, "We should take this inside."

They scrambled out of the car and made the short trek to the front door.

Something soft and cold landed on the tip of Bonnie's nose. Then more of the cool droplets landed, melting on her skin and in her hair. Tilting her chin, snow fell silently.

Bonnie handed him the keys to open the door. He hummed a little tune, shimmied his hips which made Bonnie snort.

"Can you hurry it up? I'm kind of freezing."

"Patience," he glanced behind him. "You know I have the perfect method to warm you up."

Bonnie motioned with her hand for him to speed things along. Her toes were growing numb, her fingertips weren't far behind, and her nose was starting to run. Not a cute look when you knew in the next five minutes you were going to get lucky.

Bonnie looked up at the sky one final time and then felt a searing pain across her neck.

Damon pushed the door open, stepped one foot in the foyer and reached for the light. He stilled because he smelled blood. Bonnie's blood. He whipped around and saw her standing there, blinking. Blood leaked from her neck, one tiny snake-like river at a time until it gushed. Ringing, Damon could hear ringing. In his ears. He was frozen in shock because he didn't understand what was happening although he was seeing it happen.

Her throat had been slashed.

Bonnie dropped to her knees and he followed her, catching her before her head landed on the hard concrete below.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" Damon fumbled as he tried to wrap a shaking hand around her profusely bleeding neck.

Luc parallel parked in Whitmore's downtown area. Covertly looking around, he ducked into a local restaurant and slid into a booth that was already occupied.

The woman seated across from him dug into her salad, forking leafy green romaine lettuce into her mouth. "Do you have it?"

Luc rifled through his pocket and extracted a small three by six envelope. He slid it across the table. "It was a lot easier to get than I thought."

The woman snatched the envelope and stuffed it in her purse. She cocked a smile and resumed eating. "Nothing is as easy as you think it might be. You've provoked a Salvatore. It won't end well for you, Luc."

He laughed at that. "He can't do shit to me."

The woman pinned him with an arch look. "You don't know my son."

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review.