A/N: *peeks from behind curtain* well, hello there, lovelies! just working a little bit of what i hope is witchy writing juju while y'all have been doing your thang...and while i've been catching up with life. these two, our favorite duo, wouldn't let me be! in fact, they were on a campaign to work out all their own story-lines and character arcs relentlessly. and so here it is. i know i said this would be three-to-four chapters, but i think it'll be at least one more, mone more for sure. so, without furhter ado, i return you to the bamonlicious drama that is my version of tvd!

and yup, you're right, I own nothing but the drama on this one!

Bonnie sighed. She had just had the most amazing dream. It involved a tongue and erogenous zones, but whose tongue, which erogenous zones, and to whom they belonged was not clear. Not that it mattered-it was a dream so delicious she wanted to sink right back in and pick up where she left off. But the afternoon sun was shining into the tent's clear dome, so she opened her eyes reluctantly. The tops of evergreen trees were so tall and seemed to make a perfect circle in the sky, bordering a patch of blue so bright and perfect it reminded her of Damon's eyes.

Wait. Hold up. What the fuck just happened? Bonnie thought to herself. Damon had tucked her all in, closed the tent, and left her to bask in some pretty damned amazing sleep, after giving her the best foot massage she'd ever had. Not orgasmic, but as close as one could get.

Bonnie sat up, rubbing her eyes and then stretching lazily. Forget about Damon. He's screwing with me, as usual. Bonnie would go fishing, but first, some mosquito bite care was in order. She pulled out a little tin of salve she found in Grams' house the week before, and dabbed the sweet smelling concoction on all the swelling bites she could reach. She whispered a little rhyme Grams had taught her, passed down by generations of Bennetts, maybe even starting with Emily.

"One fish, two fish, three fish, four,

I'm goin' out fishin', catchin' five or more;

Six fish, seven fish, eight, nine, ten,

Cookin' 'em, eatin' 'em, goin' fishin' again!"

After pulling on her Keens, Bonnie found that Damon had beat her to it; right by the tent was a plastic cup full to the brim with dark soil and wriggling earthworms, fat and pink. Bonnie smiled and picked it up along with the fishing pole and bucket nearby.

Whistling softly, she made her way to the pond. She could hear sounds of leaves rustling as she got closer and wondered whether Damon had caught any big ones yet.

But she never in a million years would have imagined the sight that met her eyes. Her mouth dropped briefly at a scene that would have sent other people screaming for their cars without a second look. But Bonnie quickly snapped her jaw closed and then sighed. "I don't even want to know," she said grimly, as she made to turn back for the campsite.

"Really, Bon, if I had known you'd be up so soon, I would have made this a lot quicker," an equally grim-faced but twinkly-eyed Damon replied. With one hand, he held up a small brown bear by the neck. In the other gore-covered hand was the heart of said bear. His shirt was ruined by blood and shredded in places, revealing already-healing scratches. Damon's eyes, still red and framed by wriggling black veins, were the only things not painted with bear blood.

After allowing Bonnie a moment to take in the scene fully, he continued: "I came down to fish, just like we planned. I thought I might be able to catch a few before you woke up and surprise you. But then I noticed something strange. I couldn't see any fish in the water, and couldn't hear any, even with my SuperVamp ™* hearing. So I came back to the campsite, got my towel, and decided to take a dip to see what was going on underwater. This little excursion confirmed my guess that there were no fish to be seen. Everything else is beautiful down there, but no fish. Soooo strange." Damon waved the hand holding the heart around to illustrate his points. Bonnie stood, her eyebrows inching their way up with each moment, her green irises slowly got larger and larger until the pupils were just pinpoints.

"Anywhooo," Damon was totally oblivious to Bonnie's response, "After I put my clothes back on, I heard a rustling in the woods. Before I could really react, this here bear came charging out of nowhere, for absolutely no reason. So we had ourselves a little wrestle, and yours truly seems to have come out on top." Damon smiled broadly at the lolling bear, "And what a delicious victory. Bear blood is actually not bad, maybe because it's a bigger creature?" Damon rambled on and on, while Bonnie tuned him out. Covered in blood, in his element, Damon seemed so relaxed, and well, normal, aside from all the red. No grumpiness, no snark. Bonnie had actually never seen him so happy, and that concerned her. In fact, she was worried about herself, because she was feeling turned on by this Damon. Not the "older sexy-danger-guy" Damon, but the "I'm-happy-with-being-a-vampire" Damon. Bonnie shook her head slightly to come to her senses again.

"Okay, look, Damon," she interrupted his monologue, "I'm going to leave this bucket and my hunting knife here. You do with the bear what you will-but cut some steaks. I'll go back to the campsite and get butcher paper and the box of coarse salt I always keep for witch emergencies, so that we can wrap the meat up. I'll also bring the shovel so you can bury the bear after you're done." She put the bucket and her knife on the ground, readjusted her fishing pole, turned on her heel and left.

Damon's jaw dropped in amazement. That woman is amazing. He set to work, draining the bear's blood and cutting some good-sized steaks. By the time Bonnie returned with the other supplies, he had managed to wash himself in the pond, and stood, towel wrapped low on his hips, admiring the view of the other side of the water.

"All-righty. Here's the stuff," Bonnie dropped everything unceremoniously near the bucket of blood. "I also brought you some clean clothes." She tossed a bag in Damon's general direction and once again retreated. Damon knew she was mad again, but it was a cold anger, simmering like liquid nitrogen, condensing quickly in the air. He was glad she left because frankly, he was on a high, and didn't want her killing his vibe.

When Damon returned to the campsite, everything was packed up. Bonnie was nowhere to be seen, but her bags were neatly arranged by the firepit, which she had doused with water to ensure no coals were left burning. The cooler was there, so Damon emptied the bucket of blood into some extra plastic baggies he found inside. After placing them and the salted-and-wrapped bear steaks inside, he loaded himself up and headed to the car.

Bonnie was there, reading the National Parks noticeboard. "Oh, you know, there's a reason why there are no fish, Killer," Bonnie said without turning around, "A few years back, the water was so contaminated that the Parks Service had to shut this area down to clean the pond. A little while back, they reopened the area, but they still hadn't introduced fish back into the ecosystem, so that's why." She faced him with a thin smile. "Let's just go, okay. I guess this just wasn't meant to be. So back to Mystic Falls 2.0 and my TV marathon, which will be comprised of Cosby Show and Family Ties reruns and regular viewings of The Bodyguard."

"Okay, Bonnie, if that's what you want." The wheels in Damon's head were turning. Maybe he could still enact Plan A, the one that had caused all the trouble in the first place. All it takes is a little persistence, he thought, and she'll see how I really feel. Damon stood for a few minutes, taking in the surrounding woods, feeling good about the bear blood in his stomach, the joy of the outdoor life he hated so much back when he was a Confederate soldier so many eons ago. A bothersome voice in the back of his mind pecked at him though: How and what do you really feel, Damon Salvatore? Friendship, of course, deep friendship, he immediately answered. Or is it something else? Damon wasn't completely sure of the answer to that question.

*SuperVamp(TM) is not really my trademark, i actually have no idea if anyone else has used it...but damon wanted to TM it in this story! review, review, please, it'll make me a better writer, for sure!