Hey everyone! Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback. I appreciate it more than you know! I've got a list of wonderful readers to thank, so here goes:

fekinLOVEtea, Impress, Lily, glasvegas, DiorNicole, babyshan211, cherry9021, ILoveRomances, fanficfan84, saderia, TriGemini, Raqual88, IfYouFindThis, CGandJaz, Mrs. SalvatoreBennett

So in this next chapter, we delve deeper into Ireland. To fekinLOVEtea, thank you so much for your comment. I'm so glad the Gaelic I've inserted into this story has actually been spot on! Like I said, your country inspires me to no end when it comes to literature ; ).

ILoveRomances, I promise, I will try my best to incorporate shirtless Stefan into a scene ASAP! LOL! I have quite a fondness for his 20-pack as well! :D Alrighty, enjoy Ireland!

Chapter 8: The Cottage In The Woods

"Why didn't it work?" Tituba Bennett asked, clutching a small, empty vile that once contained protection serum.

Maya grasped the object and began to scrutinize it. "I don't understand," she exclaimed dismally. "I followed the recipe to a tee. It's not like I started brewing the stuff yesterday."

Tituba began to pace back and forth. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank God Damon was there."

The witch and fairy exchanged knowing glances with one another and sighed almost simultaneously. "He saved her life twice," Maya remarked.

"And tried to take it once. I still haven't forgotten about that."

"But it's all very Romeo and Juliet-like, isn't it?" the plump woman returned. "My only love sprung from my only hate," she continued, reciting a line from the Shakespearean romance tragedy in a mock English accent.

"Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy," Tituba finished, skipping over a line.

They stood in the secret lair beneath the jewelry shop on a day that had begun on a particularly sour note. Another animal attack had taken place in the woods, promping the Mystic Falls Police Department to place everyone on alert.

The townspeople were encouraged to keep their distance from the area. Not to mention, police presence in the small town had multiplied in a matter of hours.

Tituba could feel the tides turning - and it wasn't in their favour. Certain Supernaturals were being careless, leaving behind proof of their kills and compromising the rest of the mystical word in one fell swoop.

"I suppose there's only one way to figure out this little mystery," Maya continued, expertly inserting a swab into the vile. She placed the sample on top of a glass counter and wondered off to her supply closet.

Grabbing a red velvet bag, she marched back to her work station and began to pull various items out. "Root of chrysanthemum, dried lotus blossoms and homegrown Virginia Bluebells. These should do the trick," the fairy beamed enthusiastically.

"And what exactly is the trick?" her friend questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Tituba, I've been brewing protection serum since I could tie my shoelaces," she began. "I've never gotten it wrong and I certainly wouldn't go out of my way to put Bonnie in any danger. So that only leaves one other possibility."

"It was tampered with," the witch surmised. "But no one else can get down here except for you, me and any of the female members of our family."

"And none of them have the secret passwords," Maya supplied.

"True," Tituba acknowledged. "So they couldn't have gotten down here and tampered with the final solution."

"But they could have tampered with the ingredients, themselves," the fairy supplied. "That's what we're about to find out."

Setting aside equal amounts of each plant, she then added them to a boiling pot of broth made with selected herbs and the root of a rose bush. Once it was done, she poured a cup of the liquid into a miniature cauldron and dropped the serum sample inside.

"A little of that witchy ju ju, if you please," she winked at her best friend.

Smirking playfully, Tituba leaned forward and began to chant. "Take a thairiscint againn agus insint dúinn céard a fheiceann tú. Is í an fhírinne faoi cad a lorg againn."

"You know, I never understood why you witches were always so fascinated by Gaelic incantations. "'Take what we offer and tell us what you see. The truth within is what we seek' sounds perfectly fine to me."

"It's the language of The Ancients," Tituba replied, smacking her friend playfully. "Shhh. Look!"

The contents began to bubble and toil within the small pot. Then the colour began to transform and what was left behind was a bright pink gel like solution.

"Just as I suspected," Maya concluded. "Now we have to wait for the tainted ingredient to rise to the top of the fluid. Wait for it, wait for it..."

It rose gradually, one purple tip until finally an entire blossom revealed itself. "A periwinkle," Tituba announced.

"I get them from the woods," the fairy explained.

"Where your brother was lurking around the other night," her best friend reminded her.

"That little shit!" she responded. "I'll get him. I'll get him good!"

"Before you do that, you might want to get rid of any other supplies you've collected from the woods. You never know what else he's been tainting out there," the witch suggested.

"I'm so mad. I could kill him!" Maya shrieked bitterly.

"I know. So could I."

"I should've known he'd do this," she lamented. "Mixing potions - it's in our blood. He's almost as good as me."

Tituba gave her friend a reassuring pat on the back before glancing at her watch. "Alright, I'd best be headin' home now. I've got papers to mark and a grandchild to phone in Dublin."

"You really think Bonnie will be safe there?" Maya asked. "Especially since you know who lives there..."

"My intuition told me it was the right thing to do," she explained. "Not to mention, she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"And she's with the Salvatore brothers. They'll keep her safe."

***

"It looked like a cottage," Bonnie recalled. The supernatural trio sat at Mahoney's enjoying a traditional Irish breakfast of fried eggs, black and white pudding, bacon and a fresh baked loaf of soda bread.

Of course she was the only one who could truly enjoy the filling sensation of human food. The Salvatore brothers, on the other hand, continued ordering freshly brewed pots of coffee to fuel themselves for the day ahead.

"7 Rivendell Lane," Stefan thought aloud. "And nothing about this place seemed familiar to you?"

"No," Bonnie answered, taking a sip of her orange juice. "But I just can't get that voice out of my head. 'Magic lives here. It's your destiny.'"

"Yeah well, according to a certain Prophecy, our destinies are intertwined," Damon reminded her, sitting to her left.

He casually snatched a strip of crispy bacon from her plate and began to chomp down on it. "Mmm, not bad."

"Should you even be eating that?" Bonnie asked, more than a little surprised to see him interested in human food as opposed to humans as food for a change.

"Guess I just can't resist the enticing aroma of fried, cholesterol-boosting, fatty strips of goodness," he smirked sideways.

Dropping her bacon back onto the plate, she rolled her eyes in response. "You always know how to make everything sound so appealing."

"I do what I can," he winked, biting off another piece of meat.

"It's just a cover," Stefan inserted. "Helps us blend in more with everyone else."

"Yup," his brother added. "And it just happens to taste so good."

Makes sense, she supposed. The waitress was on her way over with another pot of freshly brewed coffee when Bonnie's hand shot up. "Excuse me, Evelyn?"

"Yes dear, what can I do for you?" she smiled graciously.

"My friends and I were hoping to take a little trip to the countryside. You see, an old friend of mine owns this gorgeous little cottage. There's just one problem," she lied.

"What's that?" the waitress inquired.

"I don't quite remember the name of the town she lives in," Bonnie meekly replied. "You see, she told me about the big move ages ago. I do know she lives on Rivendell Lane, though."

"Well my darlin,'" the merry woman began. "We've got quite a bit of countryside to scower. I'm not so sure I know the place you mean. Perhaps you should try visiting the library and hop onto one of the computers there. They seem to have all the answers nowadays."

"No need," a friendly female voice chimed in. "I believe the town you're lookin' for is called 'Kenmare.'"

Bonnie's heart immediately skipped a beat. Kenmare. That was the name of the town in her vision of The Three.

Tilting their bodies forward, the trio were now able to see a petite woman in her 40s seated in a booth for two. She had copper skin, chestnut eyes and long, wavy raven locks.

"Sorry," she began in a thick Irish accent. "I don't mean to be eavesdropping. It's just that you mentioned Rivendell Lane and I just happen to be heading that way, myself."

Their eyes widened simultaneously at their sudden luck. Bonnie looked at Damon, he looked at Stefan and they all looked at the stranger smiling back at them.

"The name's Fiona," she offered, rising from her seat. She walked toward them, hand outstretched and waiting to be shaken.

"Bonnie," the witch replied, reaching out to greet the woman before her. "How do you know for certain the Rivendell Lane I'm referring to is in..." She still couldn't believe it.

"Kenmare?" the woman offered.

"Kenmare," Stefan repeated, still in disbelief.

"Well you see," she began to explain. "There's only one Rivendell Lane in Ireland. Besides, the only other Rivendell I know of is from Lord of the Rings - and elves live there."

"And who lives on Rivendell Lane?" Damon queried.

"Mostly ordinary country folk," she answered sweetly. "Although I have a few neighbours who could certainly pass for elves."

Bonnie chuckled in response. "Well we were hoping to head down to Kenmare sometime today," she began, turning to eye both brothers. "Right guys?"

"Right," they both replied.

"Guess that means we'll be on the same train then," she responded. "Next one leaves town in four hours."

***

Thanks to her little silver Prius, Bonnie had been able to avoid the many splendors of public transportation - until now. After purchasing three tickets for the next ride out to Killarney, she and the Salvatore brothers were crammed inside a tiny train compartment.

Once they arrived, they would hop the bus for the 45-minute journey to Kenmare. In total, they'd be in transit for close to five hours.

They had a little time to re-pack their belongings and grab maps and pocket-sized books on their destination. Bonnie changed into a charcoal cowl neck sweater dress with black tights and her chocolate hued riding boots.

The witch found herself once again squeezed between Stefan and Damon. It wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world. They were handsome enough and pretty entertaining, she had to admit.

They also happened to be fierce and relentless in battle. She'd be safe with them.

Fiona Reid, the woman they had stumbled upon in the restaurant, was seated a few compartments over. It seemed she often took this route. She lived with her husband in Kenmare, not far from Rivendell Lane and had agreed to help them find the cottage with the dark thatched roof and red mailbox.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Damon whispered into Bonnie's ear.

"Honestly, I don't know," the witch replied, leaning into him slightly. "The fact of the matter is, she's the only one who knows how to get where we need to be right now."

"Seems almost too convenient, don't you think?" he offered, raising an eyebrow.

She bit her lower lip in contemplation. "I suppose so. But we don't know how much time Elena has left. The visions I've been getting - they all seem to be pointing in one direction and this train is heading there."

"You should get some rest," Damon suggested, brushing aside a strand of hair from her forehead.

She smiled warmly at him and remembered the way his arm had been slung around her waist while she slept. By the time she had opened her eyes again in the morning, he was already in the shower, singing an off-tune rendition of a Dropkick Murphys song.

Bonnie stifled her laughter by pulling the white comforter over her head. It was strange, feeling so comfortable around him.

She turned her body toward him and leaned her head against the cushy seat. Closing her eyes, she drifted off for the next four hours.

***

It was almost 6:30 in the evening and the train had just pulled into the Killarney Railway Station. Bonnie felt a cold hand against her cheek and slowly opened her eyes.

"Damon?" she whispered groggily.

"Time to wake up, sleepyhead," he remarked playfully. "We're here."

Grasping her hand, he helped her to her feet. Bonnie grabbed her black carry-on and brown leather bag and found Stefan observing them both with an amused grin on his sweet face.

Damon rolled his eyes and began to exit the cabin. "You guys coming, or what?"

On the platform, they met with Fiona Reid. She was all smiles and good spirits with a touch of tired on the side.

Together, the foursome boarded the number 82 bus to Kenmare. They drove through sprawling forests and yet more glorious rolling hills of green. No wonder this place was called the 'Emerald Isle.'

The witch felt herself being shoved in all directions, as the vehicle clumsily made its way over cracks and bumps in the road. At one point, she nearly collided with Damon.

"You just can't keep your hands off of me, can you?" he asked mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Bonnie sighed and turned away. She was the one who couldn't keep her hands to herself? Please!

Staring out the window, a familiar sight came into view. From over top of the trees, she could see a church steeple and as the bus drew nearer, the brightly coloured buildings revealed themselves.

Automatically clutching Damon's forearm as though it were a life preserver, she found herself panicking on the inside. The emerald sign with gold lettering was there, just as it had been in her vision. Murphy's Pub.

"Damon," she began.

"I know," he responded. "I see it too."

It clearly hadn't gone unnoticed by Stefan who was already busy trying to coerce the driver into stopping in town.

"Looks like your friend's a little eager to see the sights," Fiona chuckled lightly. "I'll tell you what, why don't we drop into Murphy's for a pint and then I'll drive you kids back to Rivendell Lane afterward?"

Stefan's powers of persuasion seemed to work like a charm. The bus suddenly came to a creeping halt. Bonnie beamed gratefully at the kind woman and rose from her seat. "We'll buy."

Murphy's was one of several pubs that lined the main street. Paddy's, O'Flanagan's and O'Toole's were all nearby as well.

As they approached the old stone building, Bonnie felt an overwhelming sense of dread come over her. Her heart began to palpitate inside her chest and just as she felt she was about to lose her nerve to walk in, she felt a cool hand slide into hers.

Damon laced his fingers through hers gently and whispered into her ear. "I'm right here."

Instead of calming instantly, her heart all but leaped out from her chest. Apparently his walls were down again and she liked it. She liked it a lot.

They entered the old pub to the sounds of blaring Celtic music and the boisterous laughter of men and women clutching pints, brandy and the odd glass of wine. Banjos, fiddles and percussion instruments filled their ears while their eyes watched for any sign of the peculiar.

"Why hello there, lass," a man in his thirties greeted enthusiastically, raising his glass toward the beautiful witch.

Bonnie smiled nervously and tightened her grip on Damon's hand. "I think you have an admirer," he chuckled.

As they approached the bar, a hefty man in his fifties beamed at them from behind the counter. "So what'll you be having?"

"The usual please, Joe," Fiona ordered politely.

"Four pints of Kilkenny comin' right up," he replied energetically.

They hopped onto the stools and began to observe the throngs of people gathered in merriment. "Underage drinking," Damon began, shaking his head playfully at Bonnie. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not so sure Grams would approve," he smirked.

"What Grams doesn't know won't hurt her," Bonnie answered seductively, surprising herself. "Besides, I'm legal here."

"That you are," he winked, placing the palm of his hand on the small of her back. He leaned in and whispered gently into her ear. "You gettin' any strange vibes from this place?"

Bonnie scanned the crowd for anything remotely unusual. Heavily inebriated dwellers? Check. Mass quantities of alcohol? Check. Friendly yet firm bartender? Another check.

Even after shaking his hand, the little witch hadn't picked up on a single odd vibration. Her head wasn't reeling, her thoughts hadn't been invaded by The Three. This place was unexpectedly ordinary.

Disappointed, she shook her head. "Nothing. I'm sorry."

Stefan overheard her apology and turned toward them. "It's alright. We just got here. We'll find her."

"He's right," Damon chucked in. "We're here. That's the first step."

Nodding, she smiled sweetly up at the brothers. She was grateful for their understanding, but still perplexed by her visions. So far, Murphy's had been a bust...

"Where's the lovely Fiona?" Damon inquired, changing the subject for her sake.

"Ladies room," Stefan answered.

"And I'm back," she chimed in, appearing suddenly behind the younger Salvatore. "Did you handsome young lads miss me?"

Grabbing their hands, Fiona flung the brothers out onto the hardwood floor with her. For a woman who had appeared so sweet and diminutive when they first met her, she was quite a lively dancer.

Watching Damon dance a jig was hilarious enough. When Stefan finally surrendered his ordinarily brooding demeanor to the lords of dance, his feet moved in a way Bonnie had never thought possible.

Man, if only Elena were here right now. She'd totally get a kick out of this.

The brisk pace of the music gradually began to transform. It became more melodic, slower in tempo. The fiddler's bow glided effortlessly across the strings of his instrument, giving way to a tune so tender and affectionate. Bonnie felt herself being pulled in with each emotionally charged note.

She watched as Fiona pulled Stefan and Damon in for a dance. No doubt the young, pretty girls in the pub were gazing at the scene, thinking 'Lucky cow!'

Bonnie grinned at the sight and laughed heartily when Damon shot her one of his devilishly handsome smirks. She turned back to the bar for a moment and took another swig of the rich cream ale.

A cool hand came down smoothly upon hers. "May I have this dance?"

Turning to face him, she stared into his cool blue gaze and hopped off the bar stool. His eyes stayed fixed on the little witch, sending a tingling sensation floating down her spine.

Damon gently placed her arms around his neck, while his own snaked around her tiny waist. "Is this for real?" she asked.

"This is me asking the prettiest girl in the room to dance," he smoothly replied.

Giggling at what was certainly the cheesiest remark to slip from his lips since they'd met, Bonnie leaned her head against his chest. She could feel a slight suction against her raven locks. He had just taken the opportunity to sniff the lavender fragrance of her shampoo.

Bonnie smiled to herself and lifted her gaze once more. His sapphire pools were a culmination of several emotions. Hunger. Passion. Amazement.

"That was pretty cheesy," she laughed, brushing aside a rebellious lock of hair from his forehead. Leaning in closer, she allowed her gaze to linger upon his lips. "But I liked it."

Foreheads tilted toward one another, Bonnie felt his arms lifting her off the floorboards. His lips brushed against hers langorously while her fingers wove themselves through his thick mass of midnight locks.

With a great deal of reluctance, their mouths parted and they stood silent. They gazed at one another for what seemed like hours. Damon then gathered her in his arms and began to sweep her across the dancefloor again.

By the time their evening pub crawl had come to an end, the trio found themselves inside Fiona's Corolla. Fortunately for them, she had parked close to the main street of the town.

Bonnie and Stefan had fallen asleep, but as usual Damon decided rest wasn't for him.

"So how long have you and Bonnie been sweet on one another?" the petite woman inquired, looking into her rearview mirror.

Damon chuckled at the suggestion of him actually being sweet on someone. That had only happened once and even then, the circumstances of his life were so different, so turbulent.

"We're not actually together," he began to explain.

"Oh?" she responded. "So what's stoppin' you?"

145 years of reservations about humanity, he thought dismally. An undead love. My own stubborness.

"She's a special woman, you know?" Fiona smiled. "Beauty, charm. She's got compassion. You can see it in the eyes, you know? My mother always said so."

Damon didn't need some stranger to state the obvious. She was sleeping right beside him, head leaning against his muscular shoulder, holding onto his hand like they really were more.

What a turn of events, he thought.

"Alright, here we go through the mud," the woman continued, as they drove through endless rows of alders.

Damon could see smoke brimming from a few of the chimnies nearby. The sky was filled with stars tonight.

He felt the car shift gears as it began to drive over rougher terrain. They had turned into a dark, winding, muddy path and were now getting closer to a home.

The vampire could see dark thatched roofing, intricate designs woven into the barrier between house and sky. He watched as they pulled up toward a gate with a red mailbox positioned right where Bonnie had said it would be.

"7 Rivendell Lane," she announced pleasantly.

"Stef, Bonnie," Damon began to nudge them awake.

When they finally opened their eyes, brown and green orbs were bulging out of their sockets like never before.

"This is it!" Bonnie shrieked.

The witch immediately sprung forth from the vehicle and approached the gate. Suddenly reticent, she paused. "It's so late," she began. "Whoever lives here is probably fast asleep already."

"Or not," Fiona inserted with a grin.

"It would be rude to just waltz in on someone in the middle of the night," she insisted. "We should probably just find a local inn to stay at for tonight and then we'll come back in the morning."

"Or you could stay with me," the petite woman offered.

"We wouldn't want to impose," Stefan began.

"No imposition whatsoever," she replied. "Now I won't hear anymore on the matter. You're staying with me and that's final," she smiled.

"Alright," Bonnie finally agreed. "Back in the car, I guess."

"For what?" Fiona asked.

"To head home with you," she answered.

"Well my darlin,' this is my home," Fiona grinned. "Welcome to Bellwain Cottage. I'm Tabitha's last remaining descendant."