She didn't see him for the entire week, except for the time he sprinted past her house just before dawn. She only woke up to look out the window because her magic pricked up, and she cursed when she saw him, jogging. For what reason, she didn't know. Vampires don't need exercise. Yet there he was, tennis shoes, track shorts, ipod strapped to his arm and earbuds stringing from his ears, shirtless. He didn't pay her house a glance as he passed, but she suspected he knew she was watching anyway. Why else would his incoming magic poke at hers?

The same tingle of his approach happened again the next dawn, but she ignored it. It was now Wednesday and she would see him that evening.

Embarrassingly, she spent most of her sunlight hours deciding what look to show up on his doorstep in. She was having one of those days where nothing fit comfortably or looked right. It wasn't PMS. She hadn't menstruated her whole time in this prison world, but she assumed the lack of cycle was stress-related and dismissed the non-issue entirely. No, her wardrobe indecision was caused by excitement, and she resented it. She resented that she was torn between wearing a short skirt to win the attention she craved or wearing pants and layered tops to send the right message. He had mentioned watching a movie, which meant that if he hadn't already pissed her off there would come a time in the night when they would be sitting on a couch together, in potential darkness or dimness. Pants it is.

Then there was the question of make-up. It was a dinner, which called for more eye work to bring her features out, but there remained a part of her that wanted to do the opposite of stand out to him.

Her hair was still short, so thankfully there wasn't much she could do with that.

Music played loudly while she got ready. It balanced her. It kept her mind from warring and treading back to the skirt after she put on the black leggings. To give herself a little bit of a sexy boost without going too far, she chose high wedged boots that matched her grey long sleeved shirt. When the ensemble was complete, it was sufficiently neutral.

The foreclosed house on Jubilee was yellow. One of the older structures in the neighborhood, it stood in cower among the others, just slightly tilted to the left. Though it was narrow and its meager second story looked from the outside like an attic, Bonnie could tell by the dedicatedly vibrant yellow paint and the unchipped white trim that the inside would boast renovations. She stepped up onto the porch, comparably much smaller than her Grams', though it held together attractively with two simple white columns. The setting sun also laid its touches on the entrance. However the house charmed her, Kai's hum quivered through the wood and her heart began pounding its protest.

She knocked.

"Hey, beautiful," Kai smiled when he opened the front door and she grimaced. He was wearing his usual: jeans and t-shirt, a thoughtless combination she wished she had the aloofness to consider.

Bonnie merely offered him a dark, "Hi." It was hard to be cheerful when she felt like his catering.

"Come inside," he said, making a big, smug show of his welcome. Feeling his magic greet hers with clenching fingers, she stepped into his house. Mistake number one, she thought to herself.

The inside of his house was as expected. Generic. Like the outside, it didn't scream Kai Parker so much as it screamed Façade, or Run. All the oak furniture matched and was clearly stolen from another house. Few decorations held the foyer together with the living room to the left or the open kitchen to the right. The wall going up the staircase lacked any kind of wall hanging. The place was pure showroom, designed by someone who hadn't gotten the hang of ambience yet. But music played softly in the background and even though it was the same grunge neither of them could escape in 1994, he was trying.

Kai led her to the kitchen. "Can I get you anything to drink? Vodka?"

"Tea?" she asked.

"No tea. Gin?"

"Water's fine."

"Beer it is," he concluded, and handed her a bottle. She accepted it grimly. "Oh, sorry," he said, taking the bottle back and twisting the cap off before handing it back to her. "Manners," he shook his head, chuckling.

Standing awkwardly unsure of what to do with herself, Bonnie took a reluctant swig of her beer while he turned to stir the contents of a boiling pot. She noticed a tree from his front yard reaching in with its leaves through the window above the sink. It was the wind, but she couldn't ignore that it felt like nature calling her to safety.

Kai filled a glass with water and set it on the island in front of her, offering her another of his rare looks where the honesty inside him came to the surface gasping for air. Or maybe it was the Luke inside him. Whatever it was, at least something in him felt sorry. Recognizing the good deed, Bonnie allowed herself a small smile in return, but he had already turned back to his cooking.

"How have you been?" he asked the stove.

"Small talk won't suit us," Bonnie responded.

"Thank god," he laughed. Then he turned to her, nibbling an al dente macaroni noodle in his smirk. His eyes beamed at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," he insisted.

They ate in mostly silence, sitting in stools across from each other at the island. Bonnie's appetite seemed to escape her, so she took small bites every few minutes, between gulps of beer. She passed time tracing her finger along the grout between the little square black tiles in the island's surface, trying to ignore his calculating eyes on her. He, on the other hand, shoveled spoonful after spoonful of mac n cheese into his mouth and swallowed three beers, watching her all the while. Pathetic attempts at conversation, such as, "What's the deal with music nowadays? It's all machiney and no real instruments," or, "Did you see the Johnsons' new lawn decorations? Killing it this year," failed to amuse Bonnie.

Too soon they were dropped into the setting she had been dreading. Kai turned off the music and told her to make herself at home on the couch. She squeezed herself into the couch's corner, hoping to end up as far as possible from wherever he was going to sit, and crossed all her limbs in sophisticated quarantine. She had brought The Craft on DVD, and he was setting that up. She didn't know why that movie amused her… she was mainly hoping it would keep Kai interested.

"You can take your boots off," he offered. "Hot as they look on you, I want you to be comfortable."

"I'm fine," she said. Kai waved the television on.

"Planning to run away?" he said, making his way to the couch.

"Why don't you take your shoes off?" she said, causing him to glance down at his Converse hi tops. He merely shook his head and dropped the subject.

Instead of sitting on the opposite end of the couch like she'd hoped, he sat in the middle. She bristled at the nearness, purposely not looking at him. With some precise hand movements, he dimmed all the lights in their wall fixtures. Flames sprung up from candles around the room. Two unopened beers floated in from the kitchen for him to twist the caps off and hand one to Bonnie. Then the movie started. So his ambience skills were improving, she admitted inwardly. Despite her nerves, the house threatened to cozy her to sleepiness. But the truth of their so-called relationship came crashing in on any potential comfort, and she needed more than beer.

"I'll take that gin now," she stated flatly, surprising Kai.

"Sure," he said, rising to fetch the more complicated concoction. But she stopped him.

"Let me," she said, waving her fingers in the direction of the kitchen. The green liter of gin floated in just as the beers had.

"Don't you want ice? And a glass?" he asked, amused.

"I'll drink from the bottle."

"Want me to finish your beer?"

"Nope. I'll drink that too."

Anyone else might've been offended by Bonnie's obvious aversion to being sober in his company. She was perfectly aware that she was being an asshole. But Kai didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he seemed pleased.

For the first half hour of the movie, Kai paid attention. Bonnie found herself enjoying his enjoyment, how the movie seemed to entertain him, even if he mostly made his fun. It was filmed in the nineties, not long after he was locked away, so the culture portrayed was familiar to him in a few ways. Bottom line, each time she looked at him, he was focused on the television and not on her, so she let herself relax a little for once. She blinked back mouthfuls of gin chased by grimacing mouthfuls of beer in a weird kind of peace, purposefully lowering her inhibitions. All the room's candle flames were soon happy, bright blurs in the dark and she still hated Kai, but with the temporary nonchalance needed to get through an evening with him.

Then he paused the movie.