Author's note: I would first and foremost like to thank everyone who has read this story and particularly those of you who have sent me a review. It means a lot and I am absolutely thrilled that you guys liked the first chapter. Thank you for being awesome and here is the second installment.

Sidenote: In this story, Bonnie's college is in Mystic Falls - just for logistic reasons.

Chapter Two

Hawk Nelson - Drops in the Ocean

Cause I am for you
I'm not against you

If you wanna know
How far my love can go
Just how deep, just how wide
If you wanna see
How much you mean to me
Look at my hands, look at my side
If you could count the times I'd say you are forgiven
It's more than the drops in the ocean

Don't think you need to settle for a substitute
When I'm the only love that changes you

Flashback –

Bonnie groaned, feeling marginally nauseous as the consequences of all the alcohol she'd consumed hit her. She adjusted the black, halter neck crop top she was wearing and her white skater skirt before slipping out of the bathroom and slipping back out into the club. Noise and chaos filled the room, the music a little too loud for her newly sensitive ears as she walked briskly towards the bar where her friends awaited her return. She paid close attention to her footing as it took a little more effort than usual to keep herself from stumbling, confirming to her that she was a little past tipsy. Sliding back into her bar stool, she placed her elbows on the bar and rested her face on her arms.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she retorted turning to find him watching her intently. "I just can't believe I let you talk me into this," she scolded, her words slightly unintelligible.

Damon flashed her a knowing smile then, his eyes shining with amusement before tipping his glass up and drinking what must have been his millionth shot. It was a good job he was already dead, otherwise he would most certainly be on a steady road to liver poisoning.

"Show off," she complained rolling her eyes.

"Light weight," he shot back with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Hey!"

Damon gave her what appeared to be an affectionate smile, at least for him, before sighing, closing his eyes and saying. "Fine, I must admit that I'm perhaps slightly impressed by your tolerance. For such a short-ass you sure did hold your liqueur…"

She beamed proudly.

"At least for a while, anyway," he finished his sentence, earning a very meek, pathetic, slap to his shoulder – but it was all she could manage.

"Well, since we are trading compliments, I will say that I'm also impressed that a) you've managed to remain fully dressed even with a few drinks in you and b) you're not off dancing with some, or several should I say, random women," she managed to get out.

"Bonnie Bennett! Are you saying that you were looking forward to seeing me naked?!" he exclaimed loudly his eyes flashing roguishly. The effect of those words were immediate and she instantly felt a surge of blood rush to her face. This merely served to widen his grin as he signaled the bartender for another round.

"You're a dick"

"What? You want my dick?!" he shouted even louder, pretending to mishear her due to the loud music. "Sorry Bon, I'm not that kinda guy."

Several heads turned to look at them quizzically and in that moment, Bonnie could have killed him. Instead, she settled for giving him a very mild, migraine.

"Agh! Bonnie! You're not supposed to witchy migraine me!" he cried out the previous smug smile disappearing out his face.

"And you're not supposed to make me sound like one of your groupies," she retorted a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "So I guess we're even."

"Do you two ever stop bickering?" Caroline asked from Bonnie's left side as she took one of the shot glasses the bartender had just placed in front of them.

"Bottoms up, Bon," Damon said placing a glass of liquid in front of her.

"Nu-uh!" Bonnie protested pushing the glass away.

"Yeees," Caroline laughed pushing the glass back and giving Bonnie a side-eye.

"I'm protecting myself from liver failure."

"Oh please, you barely drink, so I think you'll be fine for the night," she retorted. "Right, Stefan?"

Stefan leaned forward to give Bonnie an apologetic look before picking up his own glass and downing it. Coward. Bonnie scowled at him, making a feeble attempt to make the sound of a whip cracking to tell Stefan just how whipped he was but instead, she merely sounded like a drunken fool. Beside her, she heard Damon's deep grumble laugh and knew he was enjoying every second of this. It was evident that he was excited to see her drunk if not only to watch her embarrass herself which was partially the reason she was resisting. Once drunk, she had no control over what she did and what she said, and boy could she be a wild drunk. It had been a very long time since Bonnie had gone out and had fun like this she realized, fun – she had been beginning to forget what that felt like.

Oh what the hell, she thought snatching up the glass placed before her and downing it in one swift movement before dropping the glass back down with a loud clunk. Caroline raised her hands in the air and cheered whilst Stefan chuckled.

She wiped her mouth, closing her eyes against the bitter, strong taste of tequila.

"Atta girl!" Damon smiled handing her a lime to suck on.

The rest of the night became a sequence of blurred events that she couldn't quite recollect. After another set of rounds, Caroline grabbed Bonnie's hands and dragged her to the dance floor as the DJ played one of their favorite songs. They danced for several songs, leaving both of the brothers at the bar, watching them with a drink in their hand. After the third song, Caroline slipped off to use the bathroom which was when she was approached by a handsome dark haired guy named Tony, or perhaps it was Timothy. They danced together for the duration of one song, and afterwards, he brought her a drink which was when Damon appeared with a stern expression and instructed him to disappear. She remembered giggling hysterically as he lectured her on the danger of taking a drink from a stranger as if this was the first time she had hit the club. Alas, for the rest of the night, he stayed rooted beside her and instructed the bartender to only serve her water.

"Buzzkill," she slurred, laughing at how ridiculous she sounded.

"You'll thank me tomorrow," he replied taking a sip of Bourbon.

He was absolutely right, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she would positively regret this tomorrow. However, in this moment, she simply did not care. Bonnie snatched the glass from his hands, and he watched, amused as she took a long sip before handing it back to him. The rest of the night she spent dancing, and for the first time in a very long time, the feeling of grief, pain and guilt didn't cloud over her. She felt free and it was the most exhilarating feeling she'd ever felt.

Present day

Bonnie watched the clock on her desktop anxiously and released a short, shaky breath. Tonight was the night, and instead of feeling excited, she was unable to shake that gnarly feeling at the pit of her stomach which warned her that something was amiss. Three and a half days had passed since she had last spoken to Damon, and though she busied herself with assignments – her mind continued to wander and return to him. Despite everything, she prayed that he was okay – she cared about him, no matter how much of an asshole he could be.

Shaking her head to dismiss all thoughts of him, she picked up her pen and poised it before the diary she'd dug out earlier. She desperately wanted to write to Elena to tell her about her life, to inform her what an unbearable jackass her boyfriend was. However, she was reminded of the way his arms had felt under her a few days ago as he had held her close to him and the way her stomach had fluttered in response causing her to drop her pen as if it had scalded her. Dropping back into the chair, she covered her face with her hands – emotion overwhelming her. What on earth was wrong with her? How could she possibly feel anything akin to butterflies when it came to Damon, the one man who was one hundred and ten percent off limits to her?

Tonight would be different, she thought to herself decisively. After several weeks, she had finally agreed to go out on a date with Jamie, a blonde haired, blue eyed guy from her Bio class and the excitement was gradually but finally beginning to seep in. It had been a while since she had dated, years as a matter of fact which possibly explained her confusing reaction to Damon. It was due to the fact that she craved intimate human contact, she told herself firmly getting up from her desk and stalking across the room to get her clothes ready for tonight. Jamie was handsome and funny, thus even if the date never turned into anything romantic – she was sure she'd enjoy the night.

After a lot of thought, she settled on a white, sheer lace body con dress she had bought a year ago with Caroline yet had never got an opportunity to wear. It was the perfect balance of classy and elegance without being too much. Feeling content, she danced to the bathroom to take a shower.

Damon padded downstairs with his towel riding dangerously low on his hips. He hummed to himself absently as he walked into the kitchen where he found Stefan sitting at the dining room table doing a cross word puzzle. He loathed the way his mind immediately flew to Bonnie who had stayed surprisingly quiet for the past few days. He'd be a fool to pretend that her silence wasn't warranted, and even a greater fool to admit that he missed her terribly, which he did. Nevertheless, he could never allow himself to grow too close to her. He wasn't entirely sure when it happened, but at some point, she had become an important part of his life.

"Would it kill you to get dressed instead of wandering around the house half naked?" Stefan asked from the table without looking up from the paper in front of him.

"Possibly," Damon retorted popping a raisin into his mouth. "Scared that yet another one of your girlfriends will take one look at this body and want to trade Salvatore's?" he added, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

"Funny," he said dryly. "Couldn't you just shower at Alaric's?"

"The shower is bust, besides, I missed you, brother."

"I'm sure…"

"Speaking of Blondie, where is she?" Damon asked stalking over to the fridge and pulling it open. He was famished.

"Bonnie called, she has a date tonight and had some sort of an emergency," Stefan replied, his voice neutral nevertheless, Damon could tell from the way his eyes assessed him that he was waiting for a reaction.

"Huh," was all he said, closing the fridge, his appetite suddenly vanishing.

Bonnie had a date? This was the first time he was hearing about it. He wondered why she hadn't told him and who it could possibly be with. A million different questions shot through his head whilst he concentrated on externally appearing unaffected. This was insanity. Why should he care who she was dating? Sure, she was important to him but not in a manner which should spark a feeling of jealousy at the thought of her with another man.

"It's obvious you know," Stefan said, stopping him dead in his tracks.

He turned to look at his brother with what he hoped to be a quizzical look instead of a guilty one.

"You miss her, and instead of apologizing, you're deflecting and pretending not to care."

"You mean I don't care," he said scowling and leaving the room, irritated that he could be so openly read.

Going upstairs to get dressed, he knew exactly where he was headed to quench his curiosity despite knowing it was the worst decision he could make.

Damon had been sitting at the bar for half an hour when the door to the Mystic Grill opened and Bonnie strolled in. He found that he was unable to stop himself from scanning her appreciatively – but anyone half-awake could see how gorgeous she looked. The dress she wore hugged her tight little body in all the right places and she had worn her hair down for once. It was then that he noticed the guy who walked in right behind her and placed a possessive hand on her waist before guiding her towards the waiter who had greeted them. His good mood, which had previously been light, dissipated and he felt a snarl tugging at his lips. When the guy smiled at her in a manner that made him nauseous, he stopped himself from walking over and punching him in the gut. He was sure he had already done enough to make her hate him. Besides, he had no reason to react in this manner, and yet he couldn't shake the jealousy that consumed him.

He watched them unnoticed for a while, sipping his Bourbon when a voice distracted him from his own thoughts.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

He turned to find a middle aged woman with short curly hair sliding into the seat beside his. He immediately sensed that she was different, and noticed the ancient feeling which engulfed her. It was a feeling he'd encountered when in the presence of witches, particularly the elders who were powerful thus unsettling him further that he had been too pre-occupied to notice her approach him. It wasn't in his nature to be sloppy.

"And you are?" he asked, placing his drink back onto the bar and narrowing his eyes as he assessed her.

"A friend of a friend," she smiled coolly, signalling the bartender, unaffected by his threatening demeanor. "A vodka tonic please," she said before turning back to him. For a brief second, he was overcome with a powerful impulse to rip out her heart, if not only to subdue his annoyance.

"Settle down, I'm here with good intentions – I promise."

"Well, you have two minutes to convince me why I should let you live," he smiled dangerously. He was extremely bored, and it had been a long time since he had last tasted fresh blood, or killed anyone as a matter of fact. Walking the straight path was beginning to get exhausting, and there certainly wasn't a reason for why he shouldn't kill an intruding witch.

"Very well. You could kill me, but you will also be signing her death sentence and I get the distinct feeling that you wouldn't want that," she said nodding her head towards Bonnie before picking up her glass and taking a long sip.

Damon stilled, his body rigidifying, all traces of humor leaving him. Was she so dumb as to threaten him?

"For that threat alone, you will be exceedingly sorry, exceedingly soon," he warned, his cold eyes fixated on hers.

"Damon Salvatore, ever the cynic," she spat back, a trace of exasperation evident in her voice. It did not escape him that she knew who he was without him introducing himself. "How about you get your head out of your ass for the first time in a century and you listen. I am here on goodwill, I am a friend of Sheila's," she continued, successfully peaking his interest further at the mention of Bonnie's grandmother.

"I'm listening…"

"I've heard whispers, that she has absorbed the power of the Phoenix stone and now commands it," she continued lowering her voice and her eyes darting around them nervously, ensuring that she wasn't overheard.

Damon kept his facial expression disinterested, careful to neither confirm nor deny the allegation.

"That stone is a source of great, dark magic – it's not the kind of magic anyone should mess with, let alone a young Bennett witch. If the whispers are true, darkness and pain will consume her until it cripples her. If they are not true, the gossip alone is enough to place a target so large on her back you will find her dead within the week."

Damon froze, doubt and uncertainty seizing him. He wasn't a man of trust, and he certainly didn't trust this old witch. However, whereas the old version of him would have pulled her heart out of her mediastinum without hesitation, he regarded her carefully and considered his options because this was different. The threat was not directed at him, it was against Bonnie and though he couldn't be sure that she was telling the truth, he certainly wasn't prepared to call her bluff. His eyes found Bonnie in the crowded bar again – she was in the middle of a deep conversation with her date and he watched as he said something which made her laugh, her eyes crinkling, and her happiness contagious.

Painfully dragging his gaze from her, his stern blue eyes settled on the witch before him.

"What do you want?"

"Believe it or not, I want to protect her and anyone with common sense can see that you care about her – so I came to you."

Though still skeptical, "So tell me what we need to do," was all he said.

Author's note: Hi guys, I know it's been a while since my last update but I've been lacking inspiration - but regardless, I've tried to make this update a little longer than usual. I hope you liked this chapter. Please leave me a review and let me know what you thought. Take your guesses regarding where you think this is headed.

Disclaimer: I'm from the UK so I spell things the 'English' way e.g. we spell favorite as 'favourite' and realized as 'realised'. I try to correct it to the 'American' spelling as I'm posting, but occasionally, the odd word will slip by. Just so that you guys are aware, haha.

Happy reading!