All I want is someone I can't resist.

I know all I need to know by the way I got kissed.

-Aerosmith

#

"Shangri-La"

Damon read the beaten old neon sign swinging in the wet breeze as he climbed out of his muddy truck. You had to love Seattle for its originality; he chuckled shaking his head as he unloaded the worn duffel bags from the back seat.

"Shit!" he muttered as he stepped on a pile of dog shit, the rain pelting down on his head. Jogging into the Laundromat, he weaved his way through the parked automobiles. The thick cigarette smog was the first thing to assault his dulled senses followed by the slow buzz of a heated fluorescent light and the insistent drone of washing machines. His eyes skittered to the dented vending machine selling two dollar beer in Styrofoam cups.

Fucking Nirvana, he beamed.

"Hey, "

A fleshy redhead greeted him as he made his way to one of the snort-green washing machines holding a corner in the small Laundromat.

"Hey"

Sheer mesh tops were God's greatest gift to mankind, Damon grinned observing her glorious chest under the stretched fabric. Mesh t-shirts and lycra miniskirts, he thought as his cobalt eyes trailed further down her alabaster thighs to where her stubby painted toes wriggled inside ill-fitting platform sandals.

"Spare some change?" she flapped her blue eyelashes at him and Damon fingered his denim pockets in a weak attempt at chivalry. The girl dropped the coin as soon as he handed it to her then slowly dipped down to pick it up from the blanched floor. She was on a full on mission. He tried to look away, he really did but when he caught a glimpse of a pink puckered nipple his eyebrow vaulted at the obvious bait.

Another angel of the morning, he mused as she grinned rising from her scintillating squatting position.

"Thanks" she said nearly toppling him over as her knees tangled with his. Damon grabbed her in the ensuing confusion, his hands like missiles seeking her heat.

The doorbell echoed as his spine cocked straight up like a kid caught with his pink plump hands in the cookie jar. He looked up as the doors swung open, a gulf of wet wind wafting inside the place. His eyes widened, pulse raised and one corner of his mouth turned up into a teasing grin toying with his lips.

It was her, his Evergreen.

#

The neon sign still managed to blink in the drizzle as Bonnie pulled in the parking lot with shiny her red Mazda. She had consoled herself about the Salvatore interview, assuring herself that Seattle was brimming with young musicians waiting to be discovered. She would catch her big break.

Watch out Rolling Stone magazine.

She promised herself that she would get a nice expensive bottle of red wine and cook something special for Kol that went beyond fried chicken and collard greens, maybe even buy one of those girly magazines with back pages crammed with useless recipes.

All was right with the world.

"Bonbon"

Her green eyes sprang up at the sight of Damon Salvatore tangled in an awkward embrace with a redhead in nine inch platform heels. Bonnie rolled her eyes, bit her tongue and tried not to be hypercritical. Misery loved rock stars and groupies loved company even in the most inauspicious of places like a kitsch Laundromat with cheap beer served in wonderfully grimy Styrofoam cups. She immediately chastised herself for labelling the poor woman as a groupie.

"Of all the Laundromats in all the towns you walk into-"

"Save it, Bogie" Bonnie said lugging her laundry over the centre table.

"Ahemm…." The woman cleared her throat motioning to Damon's hands gripping her overflowing breasts.

"I think she wants her breasts back, Damon"

"Sorry, sweetheart" he simpered peeling himself away from her and sauntering over to Bonnie.

"What, rock stars do their own laundry now?" she arched an eyebrow at him, taking in his dark ruffled hair and distressed jeans. .

"What's the pay for media vultures nowadays?" he leaned over the table, head tilted so he could watch her through his dark eyelashes.

"Do you even have health insurance?"

"Do you?" she said gesturing to the flaming redhead who was still giving her the evil look behind her stack of leopard print lingerie.

"Girl on girl hate, sexy" he chuckled circling his way around the table.

"In your dreams"

'I could offer you a lucrative position… as my laundry mistress" he leaned closer brushing the shell of her ear with his lips "it's got great benefits"

"I'd rather die of syphilis"

"Been there, done that" he shrugged "would strongly advise against it" he added with a wink.

Bonnie tried her level best to avoid him, to simply pretend like he was not there

"I've always been partial to red heads," he announced his heavy lidded blue eyes roaming her face, from her curious chin to her wide-set green eyes and settling on the chestnut curls tumbling down her back. "But there's something about brunettes"

"Euw, "she sneered looking him over "just euw"

"Really, that's the best you can do?" he asked "euw, what are we, five?"

"You think you're funny, right Salvatore?"

'I think I'm adorable"

"What do you want?"

"You don't like me very much?" He cocked his head, peering at her through long black eyelashes "Do you?"

"You're the harbinger of my misery" she responded shoving what little she had unpacked back into the plastic bags.

"Too bad cause I like you"

Bonnie rolled her eyes pushing the doors open and stumbling outside hauling the refuse bags filled with her dirty laundry.

"Get away from me" she yelled as he followed her to her car in the downpour.

"In fact, "he called over her shoulder not bothered by her dismissal of him" I like you so much that I am willing to demean myself, prostitute myself for your amusement" he laughed raising his arms in a dramatic flourish

"Why are you following me?"

"And trust me if I were to rent a gigolo, it would be someone in much better shape" she said stabbing his hard wet chest with her finger.

"I have the stamina of eight Spanish bulls," he smirked, his blue eyes dazzling in the grey sunlight "so I've been told"

"So you've been lied to?'

"Would you like to get on the roller coaster, test me out?"

"I'd break your seesaw"

"Try me" he smiled circling her again.

"B.O.N.N.I.E" he spelled out her name softly, indigo eyes lingering on her wet collarbone.

"Try me Bonnie" his eyes flew back to hers making her heart thud few paces faster than normal.

"Stop following me" Bonnie clenched her jaw, her eyes dragging down to his fingernails which looked like he had been scraping motor oil.

"I'll do it, "he called as she turned around "I will prostitute myself for your tabloid delight"

"Will you do the-?" Bonnie asked, wet hair getting into her eyes and the rain soaking into her skin.

"I'll do your stupid interview" he cocked his head with a grin, the white shirt clinging to him as if it were melting off his skin. Bonnie willed her eyes to stay fixed on his jaw and not to drift to his hard heaving chest now that he was practically naked in the rain.

#