The buzzing woke Bonnie up but her eyes were still fogged over with tiredness as she looked around the room to find her bearings. There was a chill in the air that Bonnie remembered wasn't so sharp when she'd been sleeping; she shivered beneath her blanket and pulled her knees up to her chest, curling her legs under. Right, they had moved on to England. Not London, though, too obvious, too popular. Stefan had chosen a small coastal town about four hours outside of the capital.

Stefan. Where was he? Where was he? Where was he? Where was he?WHERE WAS

At that moment Bonnie heard the faint pounding of what had to be the shower. She shifted her weight, propping herself up on her elbows so she could see the bathroom door. It was closed. Relief flooded her insides and she exhaled deeply at the knowledge that he was safe. It was a strange sensation; whenever Stefan was outside of Bonnie's field of vision, whenever she was outside of his, an anxiety more intense than she'd ever experienced attacked her body, jumbling her mind with scenarios and worry. Then the instant they found each other again, she was blanketed with a calm so peculiar because it made her feel as if everything in the world was at peace. Bonnie bit her lip. She had no idea what to call that kind of emotion. It was too new to her. Bonnie lay back down and put her hand on her forehead, sighing heavily.

The buzzing continued and Bonnie groaned with irritation. It was six o'clock in the morning. "Who the hell is calling now?" She reached over to the wobbly nightstand and picked up the burner. "Hello?"

"Bonnie?"

Caroline's voice made Bonnie flinch and she sat upright in bed. "Caroline, hi!"

"Hey!" There was a pause. "Um, how are you? I know it's been a couple of weeks since we tried to Skype or Facetime, just with work and the girls…"

"It's fine," said Bonnie. "Probably better anyway, can't risk too much contact but everything's been good. You know, as good as things can be when you're on the run," she added quickly.

"It's kind of great that you get to travel the world twice, right?" said Caroline. "When we were kids all you talked about was getting out of Mystic Falls and now you're jetsetting across the globe. The circumstances might not be ideal but …"

"Yeah, totally, Stefan makes for a great travel buddy," said Bonnie.

"And um, speaking of Stefan, he's OK right? There isn't some horrible reason why you're picking up his phone?"

"What? No! Of course not, I…" Bonnie pressed her lips together. "I didn't even realize it was his, the phone rang and I just picked it up from the nightstand."

"The nightstand?"

"Yeah."

"His phone was on your side of the nightstand?" said Caroline. "Or are you two sharing a bed?"

"No," said Bonnie.

"I mean, I wouldn't care if you were, it's just something that you know, you could mention."

"Separate beds," said Bonnie.

She wasn't lying exactly. There was one bed in the apartment and Stefan had insisted on taking the couch. Last night, falling asleep together … that hadn't been intentional. After A Room With A View, they'd developed a newfound tradition to read a book set in whichever country they were staying in at the time. This time, Bonnie had forced Harry Potter and Stefan had argued with her at the bookstore. "Bonnie, they use wands and they fly on broomsticks."

"It's fiction," said Bonnie, picking The Philosopher's Stone off the rack. "This is hardly the first book that depicts witches this way."

"It's just so corny," said Stefan. "This writer doesn't get anything right, there's no celestial magic or grimoires or nature or —"

"How would you know if you haven't even read the series?"

"It's childish."

"It's a children's book!"

"Then why do you want us to read this? How about Dickens? Oliver Twist?"

"I want to read something fun," said Bonnie.

Stefan rolled his eyes and leaned against the book rack. Bonnie had regarded him and grinned. "You're afraid," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're afraid that you're going to like it and then you can't be a literary snob anymore."

"I'm not a literary snob."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow and Stefan laughed softly.

"Fine," he said. "Fine, we'll give this a shot but if I don't like the first one, then—"

"Yes, we can read Dickens or Austen or some other dead writer of your choosing, Stefan."

He'd grinned at her then, gazing at her with that stare he had, the one that was both soft and intense so that Bonnie never felt uncomfortable or awkward but her breath would catch in her throat.

They were in the middle of reading The Prisoner of Azkaban when sleep overcame them. Bonnie didn't even remember when she'd started to feel tired. She pressed the phone to her ear and closed her eyes; that was why it hadn't been so cold when she slept, Stefan had been next to her, his body solid like marble but the warmth of his skin, of him, his essence embracing her had cocooned Bonnie with such comfort that she'd actually felt cosy. His arm, strong yet gentle around her middle, had kept a grin on her face throughout the night; even now her cheeks were sore.

"You know how I get in the morning," she said finally. "Stefan's in the shower, I heard a phone, I just picked it up, assuming it was mine. The lights aren't even on."

"I'm not accusing you of anything, you know," said Caroline, sighing. "I'm just, I'm so tired. I have to get to bed soon to be up in five hours and I just wanted to wish Stefan a 'happy birthday' on his actual birthday."

Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows. "Happy birthday?"

"Yeah it's November first."

"I didn't even know…"

"What date it was? Jesus, Bonnie," said Caroline, laughing. "How far off the map are you two that you can't keep track of the days of the week?"

"No, that's not … never mind." Bonnie pushed her mouth to the side. In six years she hadn't known when Stefan's birthday had been. She was sure Elena had mentioned it once; probably Damon but for some reason it hadn't stuck.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," said Caroline. "I have to bring the girls to daycare tomorrow."

"OK," said Bonnie. "I'll let Stefan know you called."

"Thanks, Bonnie. I miss you, you know."

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "I miss you too."

Stefan stood in the shower, eyes closed, pressing his forehead against the wall, allowing the water to pound down on his back. He'd always been an early riser, waking up just before dawn, energized with an eagerness to face the day, to do something, anything to lessen the turmoil within him, to try and live so life itself could become more bearable. Waking up in the early hours of the morning was nothing new to him. But this time it was different. This time he forced himself awake, to part from the bed, to part from Bonnie.

He'd never intended to fall asleep on the bed; he certainly never intended to fall asleep entwined with her, her body perfectly melded with his, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to lie in his arms. He thought back to the night before, to how he felt so at peace, almost blissful, as if his body was made for this purpose, to enclose Bonnie's in his. Stefan sighed and started to gently bang his head against the tile.

Nothing happened and nothing was going to but every moment he spent with Bonnie felt like a betrayal to Caroline, to every woman he had ever known, and it was preposterous. It didn't make any sense. What was it about Bonnie Bennett that evoked such overwhelming, disproportionate feeling in him? He had never met a woman like her, that was true. Elena had inspired him, Katherine had provoked him, Rebekah had thrilled him, and Caroline had delighted him. But Bonnie … she was a woman of passion, of hard steel and quiet vulnerability, fierce and warm, awe-inspiring. He didn't know what he felt around her and that was the problem. He never knew how he'd react to her.

Their proximity to each other last night, that was what made him so comfortable he could sleep. He'd been sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed over at the ankle and Bonnie was curled next to him, her feet tucked beneath her, her head on his shoulder. They'd finished the ninth chapter and it was her turn to read; when she started speaking with an accent, he laughed.

"What is that?"

"My British accent," said Bonnie.

Stefan laughed louder and Bonnie widened her eyes, her smiling mouth opened in surprise. "What? What? I'll have you know I fooled so many people since we've been here."

"Ah yes, I'm sure," said Stefan, grinning. "They weren't just entertaining the crazy tourist to make you go away."

"Shut up." Bonnie took the book and rapped him against the head with it. "Anyway, very soon, I'm going to make you admit it."

"I admit nothing."

"The fact that you know what I'm talking about means that we're halfway there. We're on the third book, you're a Potterhead now. It's OK, I won't judge you."

"Please," said Stefan. "Never again use the word 'Potterhead'. It's not even a word!"

"Snob."

"Yes," said Stefan, laughing. "And please never forget that."

Bonnie grinned and re-opened the book, shifting her position so that she was halfway lying down, her head against Stefan's chest, as she continued to read. Stefan closed his eyes as he smelled the faint fragrance of her shampoo, warmth blossomed from the spot on his chest where her head was nestled and he was overcome with an unexpected serenity. That was when he grew tired.

He turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist. He was in the middle of pulling on his pants when Bonnie's scream resounded in his ears. Swiftly, he wrenched open the bathroom door and charged into the bedroom.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Bonnie jerked her head toward Stefan. She stood beside the bed, wrapped in a pink robe but she didn't say anything as she stared at him; her lips were parted and her eyes were intense, blazing. She made it a point to look in his eyes but Stefan could see her gaze wander downward before finding his face again. He suddenly felt both self-conscious and flattered, his gut twisting and roiling. He swallowed hard.

"Are you OK? I head you scream."

"Spider," said Bonnie. "There was a huge spider in the bed, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I, um…" Bonnie couldn't remember what she was saying. She wished he'd put on a shirt, how could he expect her to form full sentences when he wasn't fully dressed.

"Oh." He closed his eyes and let out a little laugh. "Do you want me to take care of it?"

He took a step forward and Bonnie took a step back. "No," she said. She couldn't have him so close to her, not like that. "No, I will do it. I have been to prison worlds, I have been a ghost, I should be able to handle a spider. Thank you. Sorry again for um, for screaming, I uh… aren't you cold or something?"

"Yeah," said Stefan. "I'm just going to…" He walked over to the living room and started rummaging through his dufflebag for a shirt.

"So were you not going to tell me that it's your birthday," said Bonnie, staring at his back. She immediately thought back to the first time she ever saw him. It's a hot back … She took a deep breath and turned back around, looking through the sheets for the spider.

"I wasn't not going to tell you, I just didn't think it was a big deal in the midst of everything."

"Everything is exactly why it's a big deal," said Bonnie. "So what do you want to do?"

"There's a lead not too far from here," said Stefan, shrugging on a shirt. He started to do up the buttons and turned back around, watching Bonnie look through the sheets. "A lead for you this time not for me. A guy who used to work for the Armory. He went way underground. We should talk to him, see if he knows how to get them off your trail."

"I say pub crawl," said Bonnie. She flinched inwardly at seeing the spider on the bed. She grabbed The Prisoner of Azkaban and swiped it off the sheets so that it landed on the floor.

"A pub crawl?"

"Yes," said Bonnie. "A pub crawl. We've been running all over Europe for months, chasing down leads that don't turn out to be leads at all because they don't lead us anywhere, and we haven't had a drink once. We've earned a day of drinking. And it's your birthday."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"No," said Bonnie. "But that's the point. I'm not going to let your fear of celebrating stop this."

"I don't have a fear of celebrating."

"Stop lying, Stefan. I know you. I see you," said Bonnie. "You're not Damon. Damon refused to have hope because the fear of being disappointed overwhelmed him. You're hopeful. And you're strong. But you won't let yourself be happy. And I'm not saying drinking will make you happy but I am saying it will suspend your grief."

"Pub crawl it is," said Stefan, grinning.

"Great! I'm just going to shower."

Stefan stared as Bonnie gathered her clothes and headed to the bathroom, trying to ignore the guilt roiling in the stomach, the knowledge that was a constant nagging in the back of his head, that merely spending time with Bonnie, reading with her, laughing with her, was his suspension f grief.