This is just a bit of - potentially pointless and maybe even boring - fluff. But I had to get it out into writing and might as well share it here, too. It's a bit of a non-sequitur, but seeing as this is not exactly a linear story or anything, I bet no one will mind.

Anyways, thanks to anyone reading, and everyone reviewing.

...

"Eeekh!" Bonnie squealed, panicked, and hid in Enzo's warm embrace, clutching him, pressing her head into his chest as he chuckled, holding her tight.

They were sitting on the couch together, Bonnie snuggled into a blanket, a half empty box of tissues by her side, a still steaming cup of freshly made tea on the table in front of her. She was nursing another cold and what best to do than be sick in style and start a binge watch marathon of one of her shows.

"I thought you had seen this before," Enzo muttered, smiling against her ear, clearly amused by her reactions, and she nudged him lightly.

"It's still scary."

"It's just a TV show…"

"Still!"

He knew not to argue with her. And while he continued just holding her, he remembered a time when they had first talked about TV, back when they had still been in the cabin together…

...

When Enzo came back to the cabin after a particularly draining week, he was half expecting Bonnie to give him flack for being so late and for having forgotten to bring her a heavier blanket like she'd asked him to. He was ready to let the accusations rain all over him.

What he did not expect, however, was to find her sitting huddled up in front of her laptop, crying.

Startled by his sudden appearance, Bonnie quickly wiped her face and closed the laptop, glowering at him defensively.

"You're back," she said, wiping her eyes again.

Alarmed, he frowned at her. "What happened, love?"

He'd dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and was now on his way over to her, but he kept his distance when her piercing stare hit him again.

"It's nothing," she said, "So, did you bring me the-

"Blanket? I'm afraid not. But I'll get one first thing tomorrow."

She merely nodded absently, and he cocked his head, scrutinizing her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Suddenly she laughed. "Yes, thank you. I'm okay. Really."

He must have looked rather worried, for she stood up, hugging herself, and repeated, "It's really nothing."

"If you say so…"

"Can we… can we just get some dinner going and review what I found out so far?"

"Of course," he said, allowing her to steer them into a different direction, and he noticed her sigh in relief, ever so slightly.

…

Later, when they had eaten together and talked about all of Bonnie's findings, they eventually grew quiet.

He smiled at her as she watched him swirl his wine around.

"So what was that all about, earlier?" He asked, and she grimaced. "Can I do anything for you?"

"It's… someone died, okay, but it's not actually a big deal, and-"

"I'm so sorry." He was shocked, and sad for her. He knew his words meant nothing, but he didn't know how to deal with loss at all, how to address it, or how to talk to someone grieving. "Do you need to… make any calls? Arrange a funeral? If you need anything…"

She surprised him by chuckling and looking at him a little uncomfortably. With a sigh she said, "Alright, I'll never live this down, but I can't in good conscience let you believe that this is anything other than what it is: I cried over the death of a TV character. There." She looked at him, gauging his reaction.

What she saw was confusion.

She raised her eyebrows. "You do know about TV right? They didn't keep that from you, did they? I mean, you've been out for a while now so even if they had kept it from you, I'm sure you've caught on to the existence of TV shows by now?"

He jolted out of his musings and made a face. "Of course," he simply said, "I'm just a little… intrigued that the 'death' of a fictional character would get to someone like you so much."

It was her turn to frown, but there was annoyance mixed into her expression. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He clicked his tongue, raising his chin. "You didn't strike me as someone who'd care much about something that isn't real. But I guess I shouldn't have made such an assumption. You are full of emotions, Bonnie Bennett…"

"You think I'm being ridiculous," she huffed, clearly annoyed.

"I think you are a compassionate, empathetic woman," he countered, smiling at her, and drinking another sip of his wine as she gave him a look, bewildered and unsure of what to make of him.

For a while neither of them said anything. They simply drank their glasses of wine in silence, looking at each other, Bonnie with a glare, Enzo with a smile.

"You're gonna use this against me," she eventually broke the quiet and raised her head, defiantly, her pout the most adorable thing he'd seen in a while.

She was so different than the other women he'd known in his life. Different than any of his flings. Different than Lily. Or even Maggie…

"You must think I'm a horrible person," he concluded, the realization actually stinging.

"I…," she began, but left her sentence unfinished.

"Relax, Bonnie, I'm not gonna use you crying over a TV show against you. I wouldn't even know how. Or why," he said with a wide gesture of his arms. He sighed resignedly as he got up to go over to the sink and deposit his glass there.

Her sudden giggle startled him. He swung around, cocking his head and giving her a curious look. "I'm glad you found something to better your mood," he mumbled, and she forced herself to stop giggling.

"I'm sorry," she said, not quite successful, "I just… I just think it's funny that I'm sitting here - with you - and we are talking about my awkward habit of crying over TV shows. And that for some reason I thought, I don't know, that you'd go shouting it from the rooftops. But, I mean, who would even care. I'm…," she had another fit of the giggles that he watched with exasperated consternation, before she could continue, "gosh, I'm so pathetic. I'm sorry. Being stuck and having gone stir crazy has done a number on me or something. I'm not normally this self-involved. And why am I even telling you this? Why am I apologizing to you of all people?!"

"Because you've started to like me," he suddenly noticed, looking at her with a winning smile, and her cheeks flushed a little more.

"I'm… I might…," she raised a finger, pausing, "excuse me," she then said and rushed up and over to the bathroom. "I really need to-"

He chuckled to himself as he heard her quietly mumble to herself and he caught her saying, "Stupid stupid wine. Oh my gosh, I should have never agreed to having a glass… please please, shut up already, Bonnie."

But when she came back, pretending all was completely normal, even drinking another sip of her wine, making a sour face when she seemed to notice what she was doing, he just sat back down and looked at her.

"What?" She made, shoulders hunched up, one hand clinging to the glass on the table as if it grounded her.

"I'm just… enjoying you, Bonnie Bennett," he admitted, and she almost choked on the sip she had just taken.

"You're enjoying me?"

She expected another cocky, snarky, or outright funny remark, but he startled her when he quietly said with an earnest voice, "You are marvelous, love. So honest, true. Full of emotions without the bat shit crazy that usually seems to come with that. It's… nice."

"Nice…" she parroted, flustered, unsure of what to say or think, and this time, he didn't make it easier for her.

He simply nodded, then said, "Who knows, maybe one day, you can show me what's so riveting about TV and we can watch something together."

"You know what they say: be careful what you wish for, you might get it." She chuckled, suddenly strangely nervous.

"I'm ready."

And as he smiled at her somewhat wistfully, she eventually just smiled back.

...