A/N: I wonder if anyone remembers this story. It's been almost two years since I've touched it, thought about deleting it due to writer's block. Started tinkering around and here we have something. Hopefully the wonderful Bamon scenes that were in last night's episode might entice folks to start reading and commenting on fanfic again. Otherwise I think I may have to start looking for another hobby. This pretty much picks up with Bamon's date and that lovely roadblock called awkwardness. Enjoy!

April 4th, 2014 11:23 p.m.

Westchester, NY

Her head weighed a ton, her heart was even heavier, her shame…was the heaviest and the reason why she couldn't look at herself in the mirror. Bonnie knew as soon as the words came out of her mouth they would sound horrible, and like she was laying Henrik's death at Damon's feet. Damon, a man she was on her first date with since meeting Henrik and becoming his wife. Damon, who was so nice, charismatic, down to earth, stupidly handsome whom she abandoned after kissing him. He wasn't to blame for anything, certainly not what happened to Henrik.

Her fingers rubbed her lips. Bonnie sighed and finally forced herself to stare at her reflection. "You're rusty when it comes to social skills with a man who could have possibly died without Henrik's heart. If he was the recipient of Henrik's heart. Go back out there and apologize."

A shuddered breath sailed past her dry lips. Bonnie searched inside her clutch for her cell to call Lacey.

"Hey," she breathed once the line was connected and pressed the heel of her hand on her forehead. "I fucked up."

"What happened?"

Thinking about it made tears pebble and crest over. Bonnie didn't want to divulge details in a bathroom while her date was ongoing. Yet there was no time like the present. What she wanted most of all was a little encouragement to see things through to their depressing end, and promptly bury her head between her ice cold pillows until the horror and anxiety blew over. That would probably take a few weeks.

"I kissed him and said something that, hearing it back in my head sounded like I was blaming him for…something that…anyways, Lacey what do I do?"

"I'm so confused, Bonnie. Where are you right now? Are you home?"

"No, I'm in the bathroom at the restaurant where I possibly just had one of the most romantic dinners of my life! I'm…I'm so scared," she cried.

"All right, Bon you need to calm down and quit crying because you're messing up your makeup, and probably look like that girl from The Ring, which will definitely guarantee he won't be calling you for a second date."

That managed to summon a tiny smile and half a giggle from Bonnie. "How do I salvage this, Lace?"

"You already know what you have to do. You just need to do it. Rip the Band-Aid off and move on. If he still wants to see you, he'll call. Who's perfect at dating? Nobody. We make mistakes, say things we don't mean, but as long as you own up to it, apologize, clear the air, then you've done your part. It'll be up to him to meet you half way. You got this, Bon."

"I got this," she whispered. "Okay. Let me go. I've been hiding in here long enough."

"I want all the juicy details tomorrow."

"Will do. Thanks, Lace."

"You know I'm here for you. Have fun."

Hanging up, Bonnie exhaled sharply. She picked up a hand towel from the dish, dried her tears, reapplied her lip gloss, and fluffed her waves.

Eyeballing her reflection, she reiterated, "You got this."

Her courage lasted from the bathroom to the courtyard where she found Damon, and seeing him it fled completely. Bonnie ordered her face to smile but she stared at him like a deer mesmerized by traffic. Her pulse plummeted to her toes, and if it weren't for her melanin he'd know how embarrassed she truly was. Damon, for his part, stared at her guardedly, hands in his pockets as he waited for Bonnie to clear the distance between them. He saw her have an internal debate, swallow, but finally she proceeded to walk toward him.

Up close it was easy to see that she had spilled a few tears. Her makeup wasn't as flawless as it had been before she went scurrying off to the one place he couldn't follow. Bonnie still looked great, was still stutter-inducing beautiful, but she was a bit wilted. Damon had resisted calling Stefan determined to deal with this glaring bump in the road like the big boy he pegged himself to be. However, it had been awkward sitting there on a blanket in front of a fire waiting for his date to return after essentially blaming him for her husband's death.

Damon was still trying to wrap his head around the very real possibility that the ticker beating in his chest belonged to Bonnie's late husband. What were the fucking odds? He was clueless on how to casually bring that back into conversation, but figured Bonnie wouldn't want to rehash one of the most painful experiences of her life. Honestly he wasn't prepared to go there himself.

Bonnie wet her lips, briefly stared at Damon's. His pink mouth hadn't been her intended target, but it was easier to stare at that then to have to look into his soul piercers. If she concentrated hard enough Bonnie swore she could feel the phantom sensation of their first and what might end up being their last kiss. Something inside of her railed at the thought.

Her eyes shot up to his.

"I'm sorry, for what I said and how it came across, Damon. I didn't mean to make it sound like you were the reason why I lost my husband. I know it's not your fault."

Reaching out, Damon lightly cupped Bonnie's chin that quivered at his touch. "It's okay…I think I understood what you meant. No one wants to think the death of someone they love is pointless."

"Right, I just…if he hadn't been killed then you might not…be here."

The news was heavy and dumped a newfound responsibility on Damon's shoulder. To take care of the second chance at life he was granted.

"And knowing my husband, he'd be happy that even in his death he's helped someone else. That's all Henrik lived to do, help those around him."

Damon had no follow up except to say, "He sounds like he was a good man."

"He was," Bonnie smiled then, a bit of a twinkle returning to her eyes that Damon wanted to avert his gaze from.

He began to berate himself for feeling even the tiniest hint of jealously at the torch Bonnie continued to carry for Henrik. It was plain to him that Bonnie was still in love with her deceased husband. This knowledge made him feel that he was out of his depth. Clingy ex-boyfriends and persistent admirers, he could deal with. But the abrupt death of a husband?

Should he just walk away, let her heal, and maybe later when the time was right try again? Damon had no answers.

"Are you ready to go?" he said.

Bonnie's smile vanished and uncertainty came creeping back in. Not knowing Damon well enough made it hard to read him. He was neither stoic nor resigned, was being perfectly polite, but she wasn't sure if that were good or bad. Mentally Bonnie thumped her forehead. She broke one of the golden rules in dating in that you didn't talk about your ex (at least on the first date), but her case was extremely different. Besides she couldn't pretend Henrik never existed in order to keep her date from feeling insecure.

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, Bonnie nodded. "I'm ready if you are."

"All right, let me settle the bill and then we can get out of here," Damon took Bonnie by the hand and led her through the converted mansion.

The ride to her brownstone was cumbersomely silent, the mood disintegrated from rampant familiarity to formal politeness, and it bothered Bonnie immensely. She didn't know how to salvage things or if Damon even wanted her to. If he did want her to could she actually do it, Bonnie wiggled on the leather seat. Was she truly ready for this?

Surreptitiously looking at his profile Bonnie's heart raced for two distinct reasons. One, she was still very much strongly, physically attracted to him, and two, they were less than five miles from her brownstone.

Damon found a spot a block away from her house.

Bonnie stared at him expectantly. Two hours ago she would have shyly asked him if he wanted to come up for some coffee. Now if she made the offer there stood a good chance he'd crack her face and tell her to get lost in the nicest way possible.

"Would you like to come up?" Bonnie tossed out the offer. If he turned her down, so be it.

The possibility, however, didn't fill her with an immense sense of relief but sadness and loneliness. She already liked him too much.

Damon's fingers drummed over the steering wheel as he considered Bonnie's invitation. Yeah, the night hit a huge speed bump that made him second guess the brightness of continuing to be a presence in Bonnie's life when she was so clearly not ready for anything serious or casual. She'd flip if she discovered he knew more about her than he led on and the fact he was still legally married. So one misworded comment shouldn't put a halt to things when the secrets he carried could do a far greater job. That in mind, stopping his pursuit would be the intelligent thing to do.

But when has he ever listened to himself?

The idea of walking away scot free after all the red tape he sliced through just to find her, Damon couldn't just wash his hands and leave things as they were. He knew in his gut they could have something special if they worked at it. Yep. It was settled.

Cutting the engine and the lights, Damon unclipped his seatbelt. "I'd love to come up."

Bonnie's eyes went round. "You would?"

Damon smirked slowly. "Hell. Yes."

A burst of nervous laughter escaped Bonnie who clamored out of the car. Or at least tried to. Damon's hand on her shoulder stopped her movements.

"Allow me."

Melting into the seat, Bonnie didn't bristle when cold air came rushing into the car the minute Damon opened his door. He rounded the vehicle and assisted Bonnie out of the car. They stared at one another unabashedly while he activated the alarm.

"Okay," he said, a stream of vapor flowing from his warm mouth.

"Okay," Bonnie parroted and shivered and not so much because of the cold.

She led the way to her brownstone, hands tucked in the pockets of her coat, Damon walking in stride beside her hand posed lightly on the small of her back.

Warm heat smacked them both in the face the minute they collapsed inside her home. Bonnie took Damon's coat stashing it over the back of an arm chair, turned on the halogen lamp.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No I'm fine," Damon parked his ass on the couch and tapped the cushion next to him.

Bonnie wondered for a moment if she should turn on some music. Or would that send him the wrong impression? If she followed instinct it might lead her to a place she wasn't ready to go. The silence of the apartment wasn't so bad, and if anything it heightened their awareness of one another. Bonnie bit into her cheek again, crossed the living room to stand before him. It was back. Whatever it was that drew them together like magnets. It was potent and scary and exhilarating. Bonnie doubted there was any other name for it beside its basic one. Want. She swallowed and bent her leg to pry off her stiletto then repeated the action on the other. Damon kept his eyes on her the whole time. Once both feet were free, Bonnie joined him on the sofa bearing her weight on her knees.

Her gaze dropped to his chest. "May I listen?"

Absently Damon nodded. Her being this close to him, her body heat singed him through his clothes which made speaking a relative hazard. His throat became exceedingly dry.

"Can you lie down?" Bonnie said next.

Damon complied, stretching his long body along the couch, never taking his eyes off her. He waited and watched as Bonnie carefully aligned herself on top of him, sinking her legs between his, lifting her dress slightly to give her more dexterity. Bonnie fell forward, a hand braced on the back of the couch for balance, the other burrowing into the cushion besides Damon's shoulder. Their lower halves touched first, thighs and waists coming into perfect alignment—masculine and feminine contours fitting together like an evolutionary puzzle. Her stomach kissed his and Damon bit back a groan when her luscious breasts flattened against his abs. Bonnie placed her right ear where his heart was trying to beat crazily because of her proximity.

Fuck, man get it together.

Slowly Damon wrapped one arm around Bonnie who tensed briefly, but then relaxed.

She listened to the thump of his heart. Counted its beat. Henrik's heart. Henrik's heart that now belonged to Damon and was keeping him alive. She smiled a little and snuggled closer.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" she lifted her head to look at him.

"No, you're fine."

"I feel your monitor."

"I can take it off," Damon offered.

"You've probably been told not to remove it."

"Well, I do have to shower so it's gotta come off at some point."

Bonnie gnawed her cheeked and settled back down, but leaned up a moment later. Her fingers pulled at the knot in his tie, loosening it. Damon's Adam's apple bobbed as he felt Bonnie's fingers unbuttoning his shirt. She didn't stop popping buttons until she reached his stomach, widening the gulf of fabric, exposing his chest.

Underneath a light dusting of black hair was a four inch long vertical scar. The raised mark was still a faint pink in color. Very tenderly Bonnie traced it with a fingertip.

Damon inhaled sharply at her touch. The caress of her digit made his flesh break out in goose bumps.

Bonnie snatched her hand away. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, the opposite."

Cheeks flushing, Bonnie went back to carefully exploring.

The monitor beeped, and Bonnie saw the wire connected to a pad that was about the size of a silver dollar positioned on Damon's left pectoral.

A dimple formed on Bonnie's forehead. "Most of the time we're not conscious of our heartbeats until we're scared, anxious, or about to get lucky. Is it different for you?"

Damon thought for a moment before responding. He could honestly say he never paid his heart much attention until it was figuratively broken and then when he was made aware of his disorder. After that it was all he could fixate on.

"I'll say I was like everyone else in the way you described. Only became aware of my heart when I was pissed off, anxious, or about to get laid," he wagged his brows. Bonnie guffawed softly. "But once I was diagnosed and told I needed a transplant to make it to thirty…every skipped beat or stutter became a cause for concern. I still find myself checking my pulse, breathing slower than normal, listening, always listening for some…defect. It's a habit by now. I know I'll be all right. I just need the rest of me to catch on."

One final time Bonnie lightly traced his scar and very gently kissed it. The monitor beeped again.

Damon cupped Bonnie's cheek forcing her to stop focusing on his chest, the scar, the wire, and look at him. "Who were you thinking about?"

"What?"

"When you were listening to my heart beat…who were you thinking about?"

The question…Bonnie blinked hard three times feeling put on the spot. "I was thinking of you both. How you may have Henrik's heart, but it's yours, and it's keeping you alive."

"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?" Bonnie nodded. Damon ran the pad of his thumb across her cheek. "I'm thinking I want to kiss you into the middle of next week."

Heat flared deep in Bonnie's bones. She lowered her gaze, fighting off a bashful smile. Damon stared as she looked at him under thick lashes. He could feel the effects that look was having on his body, his cock in particular.

"Is it safe?"

"Where you're concerned…probably not and having a transplant has little to do with it."

"Next week is still two days off."

"Then I should get started now."

"Please. Do."

Damon needed no further prompting than that.

April 5th, 2014 2: 45 a.m.

Bonnie's lips were raw and swollen and she was positive she was going to be sporting some major hickeys if they weren't there by now. Presently she was sandwiched between Damon and the couch, his shirt barely hanging on. Bonnie was curious how it hadn't completely fallen off from the first touch of their lips until now.

She giggled intermittently as her slender fingers threaded through Damon's impossibly soft hair. Her mind wandered to all sorts of places but invariably reverted to the same thought: should she ask him to stay over.

It wasn't that she was hard up for sex though Bonnie was sure her vagina wouldn't mind. Emotionally that was a step that terrified her and she kind of felt like a virgin. But it might be nice to be held throughout the night, to wake up (later in the morning) and have someone else to talk to. It was why she played music all the time so that the silence wouldn't get to her.

Damon nibbled a trail from her clavicle to her jawline, planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, and slanted his mouth over hers. He loved kissing Bonnie like this because she was so responsive, arching her body into his, mewling, panting in his ear. He adjusted because the hard pipe in his trousers complained at its confinement. Damon possessed enough scruples to know it was much too soon to introduce anything else; though he wouldn't mind if Bonnie's hands went on a little exploration. So far she had only rubbed his shoulders and lower back, trailed her warm fingers along the corded muscles of his arms, made a wreck of his hair. It felt great and sent ripples everywhere, but the fire that burned in his balls could use a release. There was a chance he'd come if she even looked at his penis, yet Damon was willing to risk it.

Bonnie felt his erection which made her blush and feel empowered. The effect of kissing wasn't one-sided. Her panties were pretty much a swimming pool at this point. Several times she toyed with the idea of stopping, putting out a cease and desist, but Damon would find a new spot to torture with his lips, nip his teeth, or lave with his tongue and she'd be a useless puddle of hormones once more.

Needing a reprieve and the chance to moisten his lips, Damon ended their lip-lock, gazed down at Bonnie who stared at him with bright-eyed innocence. How could that even be sexy?

"You okay?" Damon asked, his voice an intimate rumble.

"I should be asking you that. Are you feeling tired?"

"No. You?"

"No."

"I like kissing you, Bonnie Bennett."

Her hands framed his face, thumbs traced the outline of his lips. "Ditto."

"You like kissing yourself?" Damon elevated a brow in the air.

Bonnie guffawed and pulled his earlobe. "I like kissing you, too, Damon Salvatore."

"I hope you like it for a long time."

"Maybe." Bonnie pushed lightly against his chest in silent plea for him to move so she could get up. The blood rushed straight to her head once Bonnie was in a seated position. Digging her knuckles into the couch she used it to push to her feet.

"Water," Damon heard her say. "I could use a glass of water. Do you want some?"

"Sure," he replied gaze zeroed in on her plump ass.

With Bonnie busy tinkering in the kitchen, Damon checked the time on his phone and saw he had two missed calls one from Stefan, the other from his secretary. Though it was late, Damon knew his brother nor Krystal would be asleep and they'd answer if he called right this second. Instead, he shut off his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. Unintentionally he caught himself staring at the shrine of Henrik on the fireplace mantle but looked away at the sound of Bonnie's footfalls ambling into the living room.

"Thank you," he took the proffered glass and finished the contents in four massive gulps.

"Wow, you were thirsty," Bonnie stated the obvious as she consumed about half of her glass that she placed on a coaster. She sat next to him.

It occurred to Damon he had missed his nightly medication dose. He felt fine but skipping a round of drugs…he'd never done that since his transplant and didn't want to think of the consequences.

Bonnie studied him for a moment seeing he was becoming distressed. "Damon…are you okay?"

"I um," he wanted to downplay, brush off the very real fact that he hadn't had any medicine in almost twelve hours. However, now that it was on his mind, anxiety was starting to kick in. He looked at Bonnie, smiling wanly, "I actually missed the scheduled time for my medicine cocktail."

Bonnie's eyes widened and her heart started pounding. "Did you bring your medicine with you?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't think I'd be out this late and…"

Bonnie immediately reached for his wrist to check his pulse. It was steady, she wasn't detecting any arrhythmias not like she had any idea on what that felt like to start with.

"Should I check your temperature? I have a thermometer."

"No, I just need to get…home."

Bonnie was up and on her feet sliding on her shoes and shrugging on her coat. Damon was slower to move as his fingers shook while he reattached his monitor and attempted to button his shirt. Bonnie saw him struggling and raced over to help. Damon wouldn't look at her and she understood he was probably feeling embarrassed and like a burden. She noticed his neck and the outer shell of his ears were bright red and the color was blooming on his cheeks.

"I'm going to drive you home."

"You don't have to."

"I'm not going to let you get behind the wheel this late at night and when you haven't had your medicine. Give me your keys," Bonnie held out her palm.

"They're in my coat pocket."

Bonnie spun away and grabbed his coat, rooted around in his pocket and extracted the keys. She then helped Damon into his coat making sure it was buttoned to his neck although he pouted and complained. This certainly wasn't how he wanted the night to end.

Minutes later Damon was buckled into the passenger seat with Bonnie behind the wheel.

"Where am I going?" she cranked the engine, adjusted the seat and mirrors, turned on the heat.

"It's programmed into the GPS. Take me home, Sky."

The automated voice responded tossing out directions before Bonnie could even begin to start driving.

"That's what you call your car?" Bonnie threw his Audi into reverse to ease out of the parking spot.

"Yeah. It's also what I want to name my daughter…if I ever have kids."

The thought of kids made Bonnie think of the fact Henrik's sperm was sitting frozen in a facility waiting to be used or discarded.

"Sky," she murmured instead and finally began following the GPS' commands. "I like it. Sky Salvatore."

He liked the way his hypothetical daughter's name rolled off Bonnie's tongue.

"What about you?" Damon rolled his head on the head rest. He blinked sluggishly. A minute ago he had been energized and now it seemed every one of his systems was shutting down. But if he could keep talking, if he could keep hearing the sound of Bonnie's voice it might prevent him from going under, into shock or whatever happened when his body started going through withdrawals.

"Do I want kids?"

"Yeah."

Bonnie bit into her lip. "I came close once."

"Close?"

"Miscarriage. This was before I was married. College boyfriend who wasn't worth shit. I was sad but relieved because I wanted nothing to tie me to him."

Damon wondered if the jackass Bonnie was talking about was the guy he'd seen her with the first time they met and then at his graduation. He shifted the vent away from him. The heat was too much and he was already sweating. Bonnie saw and shut it off.

"Since then I thought about it on and off. Henrik and I tried for a while, but nothing happened. His schedule and…"

"We don't have to talk about this."

"No, it's fine," Bonnie drove aimlessly, gliding through semi-packed streets to reach Barclay Towers where Damon laid his head. "So to answer a simple question, yes I'd like kids one day."

"Did you have names picked out?"

"Tristan if I had a boy, and Sheila if I had a girl. Sheila is my Grams' name."

"Nice," Damon slurred. "We're going to have babies some day, Bonnie."

She laughed and wondered if he was being serious or if he were merely talking gibberish, but she found herself humoring him nonetheless. "Oh, we are, are we?"

"Yes, just you wait."

"Can we work on establishing a friendship, first?" Bonnie volleyed between her passenger and the road.

Damon smiled. "Whatever you want, I'm down."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired mostly."

Bonnie reached for Damon's hand across the console. He tightened his fingers around her gloved ones.

"Just hold on to me, Damon. We're almost there."

He kissed her hand and closed his eyes content in the fact he knew he could trust Bonnie with his life.

April 5th, 2014 2:49 p.m.

Damon thought he was dying.

"I'm not going to the hospital, Stefan."

His younger brother stomped around his bedroom making an unnecessary ruckus while berating him for being careless.

"I don't know if I like this young lady who leaves you so distracted that you fail to take your medication."

Damon glared as best he could at his stupid brother, but his eyes hurt too much. In fact everything hurt. Bonnie had managed to get him home safe, sound, and in one piece. He took his pills, swallowed a gallon of water it felt like and almost threw everything back up but it stayed down. The whole while he put on airs hoping his domestic accommodations would blind Bonnie to the fact he felt like he was nose diving to the earth while standing completely still.

She had sat with him, pressing a cold compress to his head, fretting if she should call his doctor or take him to the hospital. Constantly he reassured Bonnie he'd be fine once the drugs kicked in and to keep talking to him until he fell asleep. Eventually he did at some point and when he woke up it was the middle of the day, head pounding, mouth dry.

Damon was unsure when Stefan arrived, before or after Bonnie left. She had been nice enough to leave a note saying she was called into work for an emergency, and would check up on him later. Damon had only been strong enough to move from the bed to the bathroom where he stood hunched over his toilet expelling nothing apart from brackish tasting bile. Pale and trembling was how Stefan found him.

Now he was mocking him. Where was the love?

Stefan dumped his weight on the edge of Damon's bed. "Did you have alcohol?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Stefan," Damon nearly growled. "I forgot to take my pills with me. Those things are like a fucking handicap."

"They keep you alive, Damon. And I know it can feel like an inconvenience to have to stop and take them, but you need them."

"I know that. I just didn't want Bonnie to know."

"Well, she does now."

Yeah, but Stefan hadn't heard the uncanny part of the whole affair. That he might be walking around with Bonnie's deceased husband's heart. He'd save that for a rainy day.

"I still think I should contact Dr…"

"No, I can't run to him every time something is wrong. My body just needs to get back on its regular schedule. Besides, all they're going to do is stick me in some bed, hook me up to a bunch of machines and ask me the same insipid questions. Why go through all that, run my insurance up when I have you?" Damon fluttered his lashes.

Stefan snorted and slapped his hands on his legs. "I guess I can work from home today."

"I guess so."

"What do you want for breakfast although it's technically lunch time?"

The thought of food made Damon grimace. "An omelet," he said to appease Stefan. "Might be the only thing I can stomach at this point."

"One omelet coming up," Stefan paused at the threshold. "So how was it? The date?"

Damon finally cracked a smile. "It was the best date ever. I need to get better so I can take her out on another."

"Well, any chick willing to drive you home and sit with you…she's okay in my book and far better than that barracuda you married."

"I said I wanted to get well, Stefan let's not bring her into this."

"All right. Let me get on this omelet. Oh, one more thing. Call your lawyer. He's got something for you."

"Finally."

"Finally indeed."

Chapter end.

A/N: Okay I wanted to add more but what I was planning on adding would have been a cliffhanger and I rather not do that in the off chance the muse goes into hiding. Let me know what you think, if you're interested in more etc. Thank you so much, vixens for reading!