She stiffened. He was looking at her, and he wasn't saying anything. She could see a glint of the hunger hanging behind his pupils. "What?" she said tonelessly, "Already?"

He shook his head, "You need more time."

"Then why the hell are you looking at me like that?"

"Like…what? I'm sorry," he tightened his eyes closed, regaining focus. "I was just looking at you. I just remembered that I promised you a back rub."

She sucked in a breath, aha-ing. "You don't need to do that."

"I think I do," he said honestly, setting his beer down on a side table. "I have a theory."

"That?" She swirled the last bit of her beer around the bottle, preparing herself to be unimpressed. As she shifted her body on the couch, she could feel alcohol weighing down her muscles, thickening her thoughts.

He held his hands out in front of himself, looking down at his own palms. "These hands," he said, "have been very bad hands. Maybe if I use them kindly you'll stop acting like I'm about to attack you every time I move." He said that last part with a hint of venom. Apparently her stiffness really bothered him. He added, "It doesn't have to be weird, either. You seem pretty fucking uptight and I think you could use it."

"But you don't care if I'm uptight. You just want me where you want me."

He sighed and showed her a flat smile. "You got me." And with that he turned back to the TV.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. A back rub did sound nice. Even before her entrapment there, it had been a while since anybody offered her something like that. Her shoulders ached and the unreachable muscles along her spine cried for someone else's touch. She remembered hearing somewhere that physical contact, romantic, platonic or otherwise, correlated with health in human beings. And then there was the little detail of being almost drunk. "You're right," she confessed. "I could use it." Kai grinned, not hiding how pleased he was. Bonnie rose from her corner on the couch, steadying herself against the rush of gin and beer in her blood. Ignoring the eager reach of his aura, she buckled down cross-legged on the hardwood floor between his Conversed feet, her shoulders leveled with his knees.

Something about the way her hands shook, and how she had to lock them together in her lap to keep the tremor from radiating through her entire body, reminded her of being an innocent teenager. It reminded her of waiting to be touched for the first time. Were the circumstances not similar? She was waiting for an enemy to lay his first kind hand on her. In the glass cabinets on the TV stand, she saw Kai's reflection wave the movie to continue playing, and then his head turn down at the girl sitting before him, beneath him, between him. A moment passed by them; he was indecisive on how to begin. She was forced to wonder if he had ever even done this before. It didn't seem like a Kai Parker type of activity, unless it was a ploy that led to something horrible. And the sly look on his face confirmed it for her. He must've sensed her watching him, because his eyes lifted and met with hers in their reflection. She quickly averted her eyes and glued them to the TV screen. And then her magic was tapped, not by a siphoning, but by the rough release of Kai's magic, flowing energetically through his hand now placed on her right shoulder. Every time their skin touched, whether it was calm, violent or accidental, his magic joined hers like oil in water. She would have to get used to that toxic exchange.

The first pinch of her skin between his thumb and forefinger, despite her being braced for it, took her out. A large breath fled her lungs and her head bowed to the pleasure of endorphins flurrying through her system. At the same instant of their release, all of the candle flames in the room stretched higher, brightening the room, for a fraction of a second. Kai's surprised laughter cut in, "Feel good?"

"Don't ruin it," she breathed, closing her eyes.

"I don't intend to, it's just, now I know what makes Bonnie Bennett surrender. It's cute."

"It's sad," she corrected, and then stifled a moan when he positioned his other hand on her and both of his thumbs dug beneath her shoulder blades.

"What's sad, that you're that attention starved?"

"Shut up," she muttered.

"If a little back rub destroys you, I wonder what other things do."

"You're ruining it," she warned, hoping for her back's sake that he stopped talking. She didn't care how unwarranted his implication was. It didn't seem to bother her as much while his hands were making putty of her body, and her thoughts. Hopefully at least her principles remained intact for the duration of this disassembly he was about to take her through.

He dragged a deep line from her shoulders down her spine, causing a euphoric pain that took the breath out of her again. She had trouble getting it back as he continued that motion with unrelenting fervor, the strokes chopping her every breath into useless air.

"Breathe," he said incredulously, unable to contain his amusement.

"Pay attention to the movie," she scolded, "It's awesome."

"This is more awesome."

"Ugh, time to stop," she said, but made no move to indicate that she meant it.

"You don't want me to do that," he stated.

"No," she whined in agreement. "I just want you to stop talking."

His following silence made her feel a little guilty. But his hands never let her go, and their work never lost momentum. He went on rubbing her for the rest of the movie, most of which passed without either one paying attention. How the hands that had done so much damage could now make her skin feel loyal to their touch mystified and ashamed her. She didn't want it stop, she couldn't want that. He made her feel so good, she lost time. It seemed only a minute between crumbling under his first touch and looking up to find that the credits were rolling on the television. She fell back to earth just as the credit music stopped, and the TV flicked off, tumbling them into dark silence.

Kai's fingers traveled up from her shoulders to stroke the sides of her neck. He had fed her, watered her, watched her movie and helped her relax…now he was ready for his reward. She felt his readiness pooling in his fingertips. He pressed his need into her consciousness through thoughtful circles over her arteries. Even that felt good, but the question it asked depressed her. She was more willing to accept hours of him kneading her to earn the blood he wanted. The curtain of her hair was drawn aside as he pulled it back.

"Do you have a hair tie?" he asked. It was the first thing he'd said in an hour.

"No," she answered.

"That's ok. I can hold it."

Bonnie took a deep breath. The tremor returned to her hands, along with the weight in her chest. Her face, for some reason, began to feel hot.

"Don't be nervous," he said.

"I'm not."

"Your heart beat betrays you." His other hand, the one that wasn't pulling her hair, continued its soft exploration of her neck. He let his fingernails drag gently along the curve of the artery in reverence and she could feel his eyes loving this. The hand on her hair pulled, not too strongly, so that her head would follow its strings and open her neck to him. Behind her, he lowered his head down to rest on hers. The sheet of stubble on his chin grazed down the side of her face until he could run his lips in the same path his fingers had drawn. The passionate way he did this, and the way his breath changed, gave Bonnie a shudder. He noticed.

"What?" He breathed the question into her ear, making the alcohol in her body feel headier.

She hesitated before answering. "Why do you have to draw it out? Can't you just get on with it?"

"I can't help it. It's part of feeding. Delayed gratification. Maybe someday you'll understand."

She exhaled. "It's delayed pain for me. It's torture."

"Knowing that doesn't make me want to stop," he said into her neck. "Knowing that makes this better for me." She mistakenly let out a whimper against the tightness of her throat, and the fear being tacked through her heart. His next breath ghosted heavy over her rising goosebumps. "So does that," he whispered, still exhaling noisily as if about to lose control.

"You're freaking me out," she whispered.

"I know. It's ok. It's ok," he said between breaths.

"Just…"

"Ok."

A hot breath preceded the pain of his fangs popping her skin once more. His fingers knotted through her hair as he began suckling and she winced, but he complemented the discomfort with his left hand, which started to rub her shoulder like it had ten minutes earlier. The sudden addition of this unexpected pleasure made Bonnie choke out a wide-mouthed moan. Kai untangled his right hand from her hair and it spidered out over the round of her shoulder, rolling it in rhythmic circles before resting his thumb on the back of her neck while his fingers extended down her front. Her awareness honed in on his fingertips, slipping beneath her shirt to dig at her clavicle. She would have leaned out from this troublesome progression if not for his thumb still pressing at her most prominent vertebrae, steadying her posture for even bloodflow.

It's almost over.

It's almost over.

It's almost over.

The straying fingers wrapped around the front of her neck as if preparing to choke her, but they didn't tighten. Bonnie felt the temperature in his hands rise as blood left her body to nourish his. She thought she was almost feeling sweat generate between his palm and her neck, but it could've been her own. It was hard to tell with how fervent the feed was becoming.

His left hand stopped rubbing her calm and dropped down to her mid-back, the other hand following. She heard his jaw click, felt his teeth deepen, and she knew they had reached the point where he would get lost if he didn't quit soon. Rather than withdraw from her flesh, his hands tightened on her ribcage and lifted her body quite easily up from the floor. She whimpered again at the searing shift of his fangs deep within her and at the sensation of his bottom fangs now coming into play. They lost their pressure, however, after her transplant from the floor onto his lap.

His pounding chest heated her back, hands worming their way around her middle, clutching her body more tightly to his. She couldn't comprehend the reason for this other than ease of access, more blood to mouth, him not having to hunch over her and that's what she swore to herself was happening.

Ease of access.

Ease of access.

It's almost over.

She held onto his arms encasing her, trying to balance her weight on his supportive legs, and in the process noticed that she was again feeling that hardness from beneath his jeans. She twisted her hips to sidle another direction so she wouldn't feel it. As if realizing just then that he was crossing a line, Kai's jaws released her neck.

Bonnie shot to her feet immediately, finding that she was not as drained as the last time. She clutched her neck and stood her ground across the living room, watching him finger a stream of blood from his cheek into his mouth, both she and him panting. His eyes, after the color returned and the hunger receded, flicked up to hers. Neither one moved or spoke for a moment, something Bonnie imagined to be a post-feed standoff. Would she run? Would he chase?

Finally he broke the silence. "I'd say that was a success." Her lack of response elicited him to usher one out of her. "Don't you agree?"

"It was fine, until that," she said, gesturing to the unspeakable area between his thighs. "You need to get that in check."

"Sorry?"

Bonnie pressed her features into an admonishing glare.

"I can't help that," he defended.

"Maybe just don't…" she trailed off, unsure of how to say what she wanted.

"Don't what?"

"Don't…touch me with it," was what ended up coming out, and Bonnie felt embarrassed. It wasn't that it bothered her all that much; she honestly felt a little complimented by the uncontrollable boner, but it was Kai, and it was awkward, and she forgot how to talk to people.

"Sure thing, Bon," he smirked.

"I've gotta go," she shook her head, trying to remember whether she brought a purse or not.

Kai rose from the couch. "Don't you want medicine?" He bared his fangs at her before biting into his own wrist and offering it out to her, bleeding and already fibering back together.

Bonnie snatched up her beer bottle. Kai raised an eyebrow in confusion. She brought the bottle's lip to his wrist and caught a few drops before he healed. She then tipped the bottle to her lips.

"Fine, be that way," he said. The little amount of blood dribbled onto her tongue. "Also, you might want to wear a darker shirt next time. Or a smock. Or a sexy strapless top or something, or nothing." Bonnie glanced down at her shirt and saw that he was talking about the large red blot on her left shoulder. There was no getting that stain out. The shirt was trash.

"Damn it," she cursed under her breath.

On her way out the door, Kai stopped her yet again.

"Hey," he said. She was tempted to keep walking, but she turned and humored him, biting her lip.

"I was just thinking," he started. "This doesn't have to be our only thing. Do you wanna like, hang out? In a couple days, or tomorrow."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

She gripped the strap of her bag tightly. "I don't think it's a good idea. We both have what we need. Let's leave it at that."

"Do we?" he asked, a tinge of possible hurt hiding behind his challenging eyes.

Bonnie took a selfish moment out of the conversation to mull over his very considerate question. Did she have what she needed? She needed to see another person's face and to talk to someone other than herself, and Kai provided for these needs without effort. But among the things Bonnie needed remained friends, laughter, to feel safe, a sense of purpose other than being Kai's livestock, a change in the weather, hope, feeling like she had a soul, to re-experience and reevaluate a multitude of cheap exchanges with strangers she took for granted, a pet cat, to be appreciated… No. She did not have what she needed.

"You do," she answered. "That's all that matters."

"Bonnie Sheila Bennett," Kai scolded, and her heart jumped fearfully to the sound of her full name. "This is an arrangement. What do you need?"

Nobody else ever demanded for Bonnie to make demands. That wasn't a thing. She stared at him, utterly disbelieving that the first person adamant to give her anything was the person she least liked. And he awaited her answer, his dead eyes not ready to waver from hers. Unfortunately, most of the things that came to mind were not things that Kai Parker could give to her, and she wasn't about to waste her time putting faith in him.

"Just thank me next time," she said. "I'll see you next Wednesday."

She turned and continued walking down his lawn.

"I'll be around," he called, "If you change your mind about hanging out." And she couldn't help but bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from forming what would either be a secret smile or a tear-inducing frown. Something was happening to her. As she walked home, the high of another witch's presence let her go and she was able to analyze the events of that evening. A month ago, she wouldn't recognize herself, mixing with Kai, going to the place where he lived, eating with him, drinking with him, letting him touch her. Idiot. Emotions of all varieties filled Bonnie to the brim and she recognized the need to be tipped, to spill over before she drowned in herself.

When she made it home, she left the lights off. She locked the door and closed all the curtains. She shuffled to her bedroom. Kicked her boots carelessly into the closet. Undressed. Threw her bloody shirt to the floor in the corner of the room. Tucked herself in half naked. Sighed. And touched herself.

Kai couldn't get the taste of blood out of his mouth, or his mind.

It was only the second feeding, and what he'd said was true. It was a success. He didn't kill anyone. Or try to. But the desire willing his fingers to curl into his fists was maddening. Bonnie was already gone. Had been for at least an hour. And still the stinging resided in his gums. His fangs lay in permanent wait. Even though his stomach swelled with Bonnie's blood, he wanted more. And more than more, he wanted to again die in the pleasure of his open lips on her neck, and to marvel at the quake it caused in her; to hear the little noises she made, for he couldn't tell if they were all in pain or if an undetected craving in her was finding its fill just like he was. One thing was certain: Bonnie Bennett hated him less. And that was a sure step in the preferred direction. No matter how much he liked the challenge.

Meanwhile, pie had to be the thing he bit into. And it sufficed just barely. After finishing off two slices, he laid on his bed, a twin mattress on the attic floor, no frame and no sheet. The feeling of blood and pie digesting together was less than pleasant. But he could still smell her on him. Some kind of sweet lotion or perfume rubbed off on him from her skin and, with his heightened senses, his room swirled with the scent of Bonnie.

The only light he needed while lost in thought was that of the moon outside the one circular window, glowing opaquely yet triumphantly behind a dusting of clouds. It whitened delicately the grey walls around him, the cold hardwood floor, the mangled crusts on his plate, the ascendant napping on his chest. He trailed his finger along its edges while he thought of Bonnie and wondered what she was doing, and wondered if she ever thought about him when she couldn't sleep at night.