AN: Hello, people! As I told a couple of readers, I'd be releasing another chapter this weekend, and here's that! Thank you for the positive feedback, and I'd hope you'd all enjoy this latest installment, which is the longest, most Bamon-filled fluff chappy so far. Enjoy! :)

Damon wasn't ashamed to say he was the occasional stalker. Although occasional was an understatement, he wasn't going to deny that when he was addicted, he liked to indulge. After all, wasn't the best way to get rid of temptation was to give in to it?

However, he wasn't going to stalk Bonnie. For the first time in his life, he was changing tactics. He didn't want to lurk in the shadows anymore. It wasn't just because he wanted her to know he was there and he wasn't ashamed; it also had a lot to do with the fact that she could easily bake him with her mind if ever she felt his presence within her 50-feet radius. So fearlessly, he strolled down the hallways of her campus, catching every eye of teenager and teacher who either wanted to be in his sexy shoes or the object of his affection.

That's right, ladies, stare all you want, he thought, his boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. Damon didn't know where he was going exactly, but he knew his Bonnie radar was steering him to the right direction. He reached a particular hall of lockers, and spotted Bonnie and vampire Barbie talking on the exact opposite end of where he stood. He didn't know how to react when his vampire ears heard Bonnie's words loud and clear, "I love him, Caroline. I'm not giving him up."

Was that the thundering beat of her heart? Damon wondered. Because if he had one, he was sure that it would have burst out of his chest in smug arrogance that he had finally won. Peering his eyes to get a better view of Bonnie in the midst of his eavesdropping, he frowned. Why did she look like she ran a marathon? They've barely been in school half the day! Was she sick?

Caroline shook her head insistently, "Bons. I know he's all that, he's cute, but he's not good for you—"

Now wait a minute, Damon thought angrily. He was not cute! He was fucking handsome. Dashing. NOT CUTE. He was brought out of his reverie when Bonnie stormed away, leaving a visibly upset Caroline. He didn't even have to think twice (or why), but he sped across the distance and grabbed the blonde's shoulder. "What's happening between Bonnie and me? None of your business."

"You're so vain, Damon," Caroline said flatly, shrugging his hand away. She wiped the imaginary dust that he had caused with his touch. "I wasn't talking about—wait a sec! Did you just do what I think you did?! Listen in on us—"

"Now, now, young one," Damon said in a condescending manner, "Do you see me meddling in your love affairs as of late?" He was sure to emphasize the last phrase just to avoid Caroline from being historically hysterical.

Caroline made a face at him. "Are you for real? I'm actually—" When Damon looked at her in confusion, she laughed out loud, then she stopped, her face dead serious. "It's Django, you doofus. He's giving her—"

"Who's Django?!" he demanded, and when he realized what he just said, his countenance changed from bewilderment to recognition. Their pup, of course! "Uh, don't answer that."

"No worries; I already knew you were a dumbass," Caroline mocked, and sped out before he can figure out that she just insulted him so many times right in the face.

Instead of pursuing the growing interest of snapping Caroline's neck, Damon followed the witch's scent instead. He spotted her stepping out from the school clinic, a small note in hand. "You're really allergic to the dog?"

"I named him Django," Bonnie said, not even bothering to stop to talk to him, and continued to walk to the school's parking lot.

"Why didn't you tell me he was making you sick?"

"Like I told Care, I'm in—I'm already attached to him," Bonnie said, finally stopping in front of her Prius.

"Nah-uh, that's not what you told Caroline," Damon snapped, and opened his palm. "I'm driving you home." He hid his surprise (and glee) when she handed him her carkeys. The surprise left as quick as it came when she let out an eardrum-shuttering sneeze. "Geez, Bennett, my sensitive ears!"

"Be thankful I didn't do it on your face," she hissed, wiped her nose like a lady, and and got in the car.

When Damon slid in the driver seat, he grinned at her, "I have a question for you." He started the engine. "If you sneezed on me, and then I sneezed on you for revenge, what'd you call that?"

"You being a prick. Then again," Bonnie said. "The dead don't get sick."

"Harsh," Damon touched the spot above his heart. "But it's called swapping fluids… if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down at her, and when she just muttered about what she was thinking, letting him in her car, he knew this was going to be one of those good days.

Bonnie stood on her porch, fumbling with her keys. She was such in a hurry to get inside, because her nose was starting to flow like the Amazon river at the same time that her speech was starting to change. She felt it in her head, the itch in her teary eyes, the bitter taste on her swollen tongue. "I swear so stupid," she complained, talking to herself, "I bead, why would I leave by beds at hobe?" When she got the door open, she turned to Damon, a sneer on her face. "I eb dot ledding you id." (I mean, why would I leave my meds at home? I am not letting you in.)

"My iPhone tells me that the Bolognese dog is hypoallergenic. Why the fuck are you suffering because of him!?" Damon asked out loud. He scratched his head, trying to connect the dots. Desperation and exasperation flared in his blue eyes. "Can't believe I screwed this fucking gift! Here I was, thinking I just—"

"Dot allergic to Djaggo. Allergic to you!" Bonnie slammed the door close, but he was quick enough to poke a tree branch in between the door to stop her efforts. She noticed he had strategically used a part of his jacket to hold the dirty branch from his person. "DABUD, GO AWAY!" (Not allergic to Django. Allergic to you! Damon, go away!)

Damon shook his head. "I hate to do this, Bonnie, but you have to give him to me."

"Wud?" (What?)

"Give Django to me."

"Dow!" Bonnie yelled, her nose red. "He's bide!" (No, he's mine!)

"I promise I'll keep him away from Stefan. He's still yours. I'm just using my visitation rights. I also need to bond with him. What will he say when he's older, huh? That I've abandoned him?" When Damon probably realized she wasn't impressed by his speech, he sighed. "It's not completely hopeless, you know. We can try to build your immunity with him, but it'll take time. If you want to see him, he'll just be at the boarding house. I'm not going to stop you. But you've got to take him out of the house. It makes perfect sense; don't you want someone to look after him during school hours?"

How he managed to make a good argument out of the blue didn't faze Bonnie, so she shook her head. If only Damon wasn't the talkative type, she wouldn't have to talk through her cold. She hated sounding like an idiot. When Damon opened his mouth to say something else, she raised a hand to top him, and blew her nose on the hanky that appeared magically on her hand. Her nose clear, she licked her lips and mouthed, "He's mine, Damon. My responsibility. You gave him to me."

"Oh for the love of god!" Damon imploded. "Stop this whole 'I don't need help' attitude!"

"That's because I don't need help! Not because I let you drive my car, or because you gave me the best thing that's keeping me happy right now, that you think you have the right to take it from me! I am not letting you, Damon!" Bonnie emphasized her point by shoving him hard on the chest, so hard that she stumbled forward, out from the barrier that was supposed to keep them apart. She knew a sore throat would be waiting for her after this, what with all the raspy whispers to save herself from sounding like a clown. There was a part in her that wanted to test both of them as well, wanting him to see that she wasn't going to change her stubborn ways. How were they going to handle a relationship if they always slipped into fights whenever they had the chance? Gritting her teeth in anger, she poked a finger on his solid chest, glaring up at him with all that the rage she could muster. "You don't have that power, Damon! I'M DOT LEDDING YOU!"

This time around though, Damon didn't come back at her with his usual insults and insensitive jokes. If anything, he observed her, probably felt the gravity of her words as he read between the lines. She was more than ready to turn around, whiplash him with her hair, and slam the door close when he smiled. The smile was different, completely different from his antagonizing leer or egotistical smirk. It didn't take long until he began to snicker, as if very entertained.

"WHUDS SO FUDDY HUH?!" Bonnie was undeniably losing her shit, irritated beyond repair, that she didn't feel his firm hands on her arms, squeezing her a little bit closer to him, the hold tight, almost vice-like, but oh so gently.

"You, Bonnie. You're the one who's funny," he whispered, and closed the distance between their lips.

Bonnie was too stunned to even blink, only managed to regard him like he was a thief who just snatched her candy, and she was about to really cry. It didn't help that she felt like someone was trying to tickle her nose with a feather. When Damon drew back, his eyes were dilated, looking at her like she was perfect. Her heart was raging with the too-concerned look written on his face.

They both realized that for the first time in their acquaintance/relationship as 'sort-of-frenemies'/unofficially dating status, that she was postponing judgment—all for his account. To prove this further, or to cover up one monumental happening with another, Bonnie asked him to enter her humble abode. "Damon, come in," she announced, and the invisible gate vibrated into nothingness. "If you wanted to get Django off my hands so badly, you didn't have to..." It was a feat to say everything under her breath, but she knew he would be listening to her intently.

As she gathered Django's things, moving about the house, Damon remained perched in the hallway, halfway in, halfway out. He didn't even say anything when she finally handed him the pup, already eager for their attention. "Take care of my baby, ok?"

Damon nodded mindlessly, staring at the pup, at the door frame, then at her. "Bonnie, I'm—"

Bonnie waved him off, hoping he'd leave it at that, but it was her who couldn't stop asking in a hoarse voice, "Why'd you do that, Damon?" They both heard how she mispronounced letter N in his name, but the question hung in there air like a balloon in need of popping. Her cheeks felt warm, her lips tingled, and her heart was practicing somersaults in her chest. She wanted him to tell her why even if she knew why, but she wanted to hear it anyway.

If one of their 'friends' had been watching, they would know that during this period, the Damon-Bonnie routine entailed of a sarcastic Damon calling the shots, Bonnie putting him in his place by sending him flying to a wall, or the male party on his knees because of an aneurism. This particular reboot, however, didn't have any of those factors, only a wide-eyed Damon who kept on staring, looking anxious and awkward at the same time. For a moment he managed to break his obsession with her face and lips. "If you didn't like it, you don't have to look so disgusted."

That sounded dull, Bonnie thought. They both knew disgust was the last thing on her mind. But Bonnie wasn't going to admit that, no, it wasn't going to be her. She wasn't going to say that kissing him for the first time felt like what she imagined her first true love's kiss would feel like, just as she wouldn't flash him her boobs on the porch. If she felt even just a spot offended, he would have gained a magical slap on the face and more.

What's even more hilarious and shocking was the sheer terror on Damon's face when she took a step forward, and for a second, he probably suspected that she would burn him alive. The vampire parted his mouth to say something stupid probably, but he could only watch in pure fascination and fear when the small witch stood in front of him, so small and yet so powerful, put her hands on his shoulders, stood on her toes, and planted one on his lips. He even had the right mind to close his eyes and relieve the experience again.

Damn.

Bonnie drew back, nodded to herself and before he could do anything else with his tongue or his hands, she was already pushing him gently outside, looking at him with an emotion he would not be able to decipher. She gave him a warning that was to be deemed by Damon as a challenge accepted, "Let's not do that again, Damon."

Closing the door behind her, feeling her heart ache from parting with Django (just Django), Bonnie climbed the stairs forlorn. She finally got to her room and bit her lower lip, realizing the events that took place only a few minutes ago. Her heart was still constricting painfully, her gut nervous and uneasy, her nose clogged up but clearing already.

She let Damon take Django away.

She invited Damon in her home.

Damon kissed her.

She kissed Damon.

All of this in ONE day.

Weakly, she pulled her list from her pocket. Hands shaking so bad, she wrote for reason number five: 5) He's a THREAT. To everything, Bonnie. To everything.

AN: Send the love, ladies. ;)