Self: What is this nonsense? A second chapter in a day? What blasphemy! I disclaim.

XXXXXX

Bonnie Bennett had just realized a sad, sad truth.

She'd run out of ice cream.

Yes, there may have been other things to worry about, and other things she'd realized—though, again, she was trying not to think about them—but the most important one was that she'd run out of ice cream.

This was a serious problem.

Bonnie sighed. She normally wasn't the type to drown her feelings—she meant annoyance—in food, let alone ice cream, but today she was making an exception. And she had also run out of the alcohol that she had managed to get her hands on.

It had been an entire week since she'd last seen Damon. In the meantime she'd seen the utter sweetness of Stefan and Caroline, and Jeremy and Tyler, and was occasionally in the company of an Elena who believed that for some reason she needed to inform Bonnie of how amazing Damon was.

It was strange though, because she'd also thought she'd seen a bit of romantically-tinged tension between Elena and Matt when she'd had lunch with them the other day.

Bonnie shook herself free of that thought. That was irrelevant. And she really didn't mind that it almost seemed like everything between her and Elena had gone back to the way it was before, because at least now Elena was more aware of the impact she had on other people, and was trying really hard to be a better person.

But, again, that was not a problem. The problem was the lack of ice cream. It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't almost 3 a.m. Because, really, now was not the time she wanted to run off to the store to find ice cream. Maybe she should call Elena and make her bring her ice cream.

Bonnie stopped to actually consider that.

Elena owed her, right?

XXXX

Twenty minutes later when Bonnie heard the doorbell ring she ran downstairs happily, praying for ice cream.

She opened the door, "You." And it was Damon.

He held up what were obviously multiple containers of ice cream.

Bonnie sighed. This was a serious dilemma. He had ice cream.

She briefly considered just taking the ice cream from him, but she was pretty sure that that wasn't going to happen. She glared at him, to see if he'd just hand it over.

He merely smiled.

She growled.

He smiled.

"Fine. Come in." Bonnie stepped backward, annoyed.

He stepped in, closing the door behind him. "You know when Elena called me saying you wanted ice cream, I thought she'd lost her mind. But obviously you do."

"Elena called you?" Bonnie asked, incredulous. "Bitch," she said to herself. She was going to get even with her at some point for this.

"Yes, and I thought she was wrong. But she'd said that you'd let me in. I would have been here a few minutes ago, but it took me some time to figure out which ice cream to get."

Bonnie just stared at him, "I don't really care, Damon. Hand it over." Bonnie grabbed the ice cream from him at that point, barely able to hold it all, and walked into the kitchen, not caring whether he followed her.

She grabbed her bowl, then looked at the flavors. "You know women well," and she grabbed the chocolate chip cookie dough. She looked back down at the bowl, then set it in the sink, opening up the container itself and stabbing a spoon into it, then setting in onto the counter.

She walked quickly to the fridge and opened up the freezer, shoving the rest of the ice cream into it, then leaning down to open the lower part, not noticing as Damon enjoyed the "view." She stood up with chocolate sauce and went back over to grab her ice cream before heading out into the living room and turning back on her movie, plopping back down on the couch.

Damon just followed weirdly, staring at her as if he were enraptured.

Bonnie just watched her movie—she was Harry Potter marathoning. She'd gotten to the third before she'd run out of ice cream. Two minutes into her new container of ice cream she sighed.

Damon perked up, "What now?"

"I need you to switch the movie. Grab the Goblet of Fire." Bonnie stared at him expectantly.

Damon quirked his head to the side, "Are you saying that you had two minutes left of the movie, but that you stopped watching the movie because you ran out of ice cream?"

Bonnie just stared at him, "No. I was still watching it, but I paused it before I got up to answer the door."

"Oh." Damon felt rather, well, stupid now.

"Good job, Damon. Jumping to your freaking conclusions. You're really good at that." Bonnie bit out, in between bites of ice cream. She took a moment to savor a particularly amazing bite and moaned. She grabbed her chocolate and poured some more over her ice cream. She closed her eyes. This was awesome.

Damon just watched her, feeling increasingly awkward. And more than a little turned on.

"Well?" Bonnie asked finally, after giving Robert Pattinson's Cedric an odd look.

"Well what?" Damon asked, slightly mesmerized.

"I let you into my house. Talk, or leave."

"I thought you didn't want to talk."

"I thought you didn't want to talk," Bonnie repeated in a slightly mocking, childish voice. "Damon, that was fairly obvious. But if you're just going to just stare at me, go away."

Damon decided at that moment to sit down under her harsh gaze.

Bonnie sighed at that, and wondered if she'd regret this later, because she was still feeling a crazy sugar high and her inhibitions were being fairly unhelpful in this situation. "Over here, Damon." She indicated the couch she was sitting on. "There's no reason to stay if you can't see the screen."

"But I've never actually gotten the whole H—"

Bonnie raised an eyebrow and sat down the ice cream in her laugh. "If you're about to say what I think you're about to say, then you need to sit yourself down and watch the movies."

Damon sat gingerly down on the couch, about two feet from Bonnie.

"We should probably start over." Bonnie thought out loud.

"I don't—" Damon paused. "Wait, how many movies are there?"

"Only six out on DVD so far. I can't believe you. I know you've read Twilight, but you haven't read or seen Harry Potter? Shame."

"Bonnie—"

"Shame," Bonnie interrupted, a silly smile on her face. She reached over and dotted chocolate sauce on his nose, then leaned back to her original position.

Damon just stared at her as if she were insane. She was. "Are you okay, Bonnie?"

"A little drunk," Bonnie admitted, "And a little hyper."

Damon realized that she'd been drinking. Wow. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't noticed.

"So are we starting over or not?" Bonnie asked expectantly.

Damon realized that she—they—were on the fourth movie, and he therefore could get three extra movies out of her if he said yes. "Yes."

Bonnie motioned toward the TV and Damon realized that she wanted him to get up. He lifted an eyebrow. She sighed, "Fine," and concentrated to do it magically. "There we go."

"If you can do that, why didn't you before?"

Bonnie smirked, "First, I made you do it, which amused me. Secondly, because now I'm tired. And eventually I'm going to need more ice cream, but I'm not going to get up." Bonnie looked at him. "So when I finish this container, I expect you to get up, grab my brownies and more ice cream."

Damon just stared at her.

"Are you in, or are you out? You understand that if we start this, there's no going back. You have to watch them all, even if it's not tonight."

"I'm in," he heard himself say. He took off his jacket at that, deciding to get comfortable.

XXXX

A few hours later, Bonnie was asleep, and Damon decided to turn off the movies. He'd realized, quite quickly, that he could keep her to her promise. So he decided to go back in the movie a little before repausing. She wouldn't remember anyway. They'd gotten fairly close to the ending of Chamber of Secrets and even though he was still rather curious about how exactly that kid Harry was going to manage to kill the basilisk . . . though he was pretty sure he'd be fine, because there were a bunch of movies left anyway . . .

So instead he went over the odd conversations he'd had with Bonnie. And he realized he knew now things he never would have gotten out of her otherwise.

XXXX

"You know, if they were to make a vampire TV show, I'd bet they'd compare it ruthlessly to that series Twilight which makes no sense. I mean, it's like comparing wizards and vampires. It doesn't make sense. And really, have you ever heard of a popular series where vampires and wizards coexist? No." Bonnie seemed to enjoy rambling on.

"Because that would be like real life, " Damon had responded, causing Bonnie to laugh.

"That's true. Shockingly, you have now been right about something a grand total of one times," Bonnie had held up a single finger at that point.

Damon had realized that Bonnie was a lot more fun when she didn't hate him. So he'd said so.

She looked at him, a little confused, before setting her ice cream aside. "I don't hate you."

"But you—"

"I mean," Bonnie continued, "I used to, a lot. I blamed you and Stefan for things that in the end just . . . happened." Bonnie saddened at the memories that popped into her mind at that.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry." Damon said sincerely.

Bonnie smiled and continued as if she hadn't heard his apology. "And in the end, it's really hard to sustain hate, unless you have a really good reason."

"I think you've had more than enough reasons, Bonnie," Damon had said softly at that, not looking at her.

"Sometimes you drive me crazy and I wish I could give you some sort of permanent brain aneurysm . . . but you've saved my life as many as I've saved yours. And you . . . you're not all bad," Bonnie said, beginning to drift off.

"Not all bad? What do you mean?"

"Well, lately anyway, you've tried to be a good brother, that means a lot. And you brought me ice cream. But you really have to stop kissing me."

"I only kissed you once."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow haughtily, "That's not the way I remember it."

"It's the way it happened."

"Sure it is," Bonnie snorted. "Anyway, you need to be nicer to Stefan anyway."

"You just said anyway twice, both times slightly unnecessarily."

"You're unnecessary," Bonnie smiled. Then she was more serious, "But really."

"I am a better brother."

"Be even better than that then. If Stefan feels uncomfortable talking to you about something, then there's a problem."

Damon turned to her at that, "What did I miss now?" Damon regretted that even though his relationship with Stefan was the best it had been in, well, ever, he still wished they were closer.

"Caroline," Bonnie said, as if it should be obvious.

"I knew about that," Damon said, shrugging nonchalantly, but inwardly sighing with relief.

"Because he told you, or because it's obvious when you see them together?"

Damon hesitated.

"Exactly," Bonnie said without glee or pleasure. "You need to fix things."

"I didn't realize things were broken."

"Now you do," Bonnie looked at him as if she were losing respect for him by the second.

Damon realized they'd gone almost an entire movie without talking about what had gotten him over to her house in the first place. "Bonnie, we should probably talk now."

"We are talking."

"About the kisses, Bonnie."

"Don't you remember what I said? The second one didn't happen." Bonnie insisted.

Denial, denial, denial. Bonnie, you're swimming in that river.

"Then how can you say that I kissed you multiple times?" Damon shook his head. "Nevermind, even if we just talk about the first one, Bonnie—"

"If there was only one it doesn't have to be the 'first' one, it's just the kiss." Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "Wait, that makes it sound like a big deal."

"It was."

"Only if you make it out to be."

"Bonnie—"

Bonnie glanced something out of the corner of her eye. "Movie's over. Get up and put in the second one, I'm tired."

Damon had gotten up, being the gallant sort he . . . generally wasn't.

About halfway through the second movie he'd felt her lean on him, obviously beginning to nod off.

He'd contemplated moving her, then had realized that he rather liked having her there, so he'd merely settled in and continued watching the movie.

When she'd fallen asleep he'd realized he had a problem.

XXXX

Bonnie woke up with a hangover and felt—in addition to that—like she was in a sugar coma.

She felt something get shoved up to her lips and she opened her eyes. "What is that?"

She was surprised to realize that Damon was in front of her until she remembered him coming over, and she oddly imagined that she'd tried to have some sort of Harry Potter movie marathon with him . . . but she'd thought he'd left. And honestly that was all she remembered.

"To calm your stomach. All of that sugar and alcohol cannot have been healthy." Damon smiled at that.

Bonnie gingerly took the drink and downed it. "That didn't taste that bad."

Damon shook his head, "Why is it that humans believe that something has to taste horribly in order to be effective?"

"Because it's generally true." Bonnie said, sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

Damon felt his heart squeeze. He'd made a lot of progress—though he hadn't actually gotten around to a discussion of how he felt about Bonnie—but she didn't remember any of it.

"Just comforting you."

"Well, you can leave now." Bonnie said nervously, realizing she was in her pajamas. This was awkward. And this was not happening, not happening, she repeated in her mind.

"Okay. But you promised me a Harry Potter marathon, and we only got to the end of the second film."

Bonnie looked at him in shock, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Bon Bon. You don't remember your promise?" Damon actually decided to pat her on the head.

Oh hell no.

He continued, "I'm going to hold you to it . . . but not today. There's more of the drink in the kitchen." He managed to leave just before she began her tirade. So she had a whole lot of anger, and no way to express it. She looked down at the glass in her hand and shrugged, throwing it at the wall.

"Did that make you feel better?" Elena asked from the doorway. "Sorry, I came through the back door, which you should lock by the way, when I heard the crash."

Bonnie turned to her friend, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why Damon, of all people?"

"Because you like him," Elena responded simply.

"No I don't."

"Well if you don't—" Elena looked at her, scrutinizing. "Then you should. Because there's something there, Bonnie. I don't know why I didn't see it before. I was probably just too wrapped up in my own drama."

"There's not anything there." Bonnie insisted.

"If you say so," Elena shrugged, "Did you turn him away last night?" she asked slyly.

Bonnie pinched the bridge of her nose, as if it would somehow release the tension building inside of her. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean, you don't think so?" Elena sat down next to her friend. "How do you not know?"

Bonnie waved to the floor next to the table in front of her.

Elena sighed, "How many times have I told you not to mix alcohol and sugar? You know what it does to you."

Bonnie grimaced, "I know. I really know."

"So, are you going to admit it now?"

"What?"

"That you like him. Your hyped up self never would have let him stay. Did you . . . kiss?" Elena asked, completely curious. "Because if you did, it's okay. I don't mind. I—I don't think I ever loved him. It's one of those things where you just kind of get so wrapped up in yourself you can't see straight. Now I can. It's strange."

Bonnie took her friend's hands and squeezed them tightly. "What made you realize that?"

Elena hesitated. "I think it started when Damon broke up with me, then Caroline went off on me, and Stefan rejected me. And you, Tyler and Jeremy were barely speaking to me. And then I was talking to Matt and he pointed out that I was alone."

Elena sighed, "And I—I love you guys. I can't lose you. And suddenly I could just see myself so clearly. And I didn't like it." Elena squeezed back.

"Oh," Bonnie said simply. "Well, do you still feel lonely?"

"Not really, but I'm still working on reconstructing those bridges I've burned, not everyone has been as quick to forgive me as you have."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at that. "As quick, Bonnie." Elena assured her. "It's because you're my best friend. And you're a much better person than I am."

Bonnie sighed, "I'm not." Bonnie reflected on what she remembered from the night before, and then though briefly about the kisses . . . and winced.

Elena stared at her for a moment, "You did kiss him!"

Bonnie looked at her in shock, "Of course not!"

"Liar."

Bonnie opened her mouth to disagree, and instead pulled her hands out of Elena's and buried her head in them, sinking into the couch. She mumbled something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

Bonnie lifted her hand slightly, "You're not helping with this whole denial thing."

"That's what friends are for," Elena smiled.

XXXX

Well that was a weird chapter. Reviews, pretty please.