DISCLAIMED! I OWN NOTHING!
First, I just want to apologize for getting this up a day late, I really had a difficult time with this chapter. Hopefully it turned out okay. Sorry about that guys! Second, thank you for being the most supportive people in the world! You guys rock! OVER ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! WOO!
Unfortunately I might not be posting anything next week, 'cause I have this 5000 word essay due on the 15th that I haven't started yet and it's kind of freaking me out... so I should probably work on that. P.S. - I don't know anything about horse riding, so I'm sorry if there's any misinformation. I googled like crazy to try and make it accurate. P.P.S. - Did anyone notice the way Damon sang Bonnie's name in the last episode? That's exactly how I imagined him saying it in the last chapter when he's calling after her! It's all coming together guys... it's all coming together.
Food for Thought: I find that all the characters on TVD tend to isolate themselves. I doubt it's intentional, it's probably just poor writting, but I thought I'd examine it a little in this chapter through Bonnie.
Massaging the stiff muscles in her neck, Bonnie made her way down the long main hall at a leisurely pace. A young woman stood at the other end of the hallway carrying a basket of what looked like freshly washed vegetables. She turned towards Bonnie and catching sight of her, smiled warmly in greeting. Bonnie paused slightly before smiling back. With that the young woman continued out of sight, most likely towards the kitchen.
Dinner wouldn't be for another couple of hours still, but Bonnie could already feel the petite rumblings of her stomach alerting her to the hunger to come. She was on her last room of the day: the library. Once she was done that she had the rest of the day to herself... to do what, she wasn't sure of yet, but that was beside the point.
The Salvatore library was probably her favourite room in the mansion. It was beautiful, immaculately organized and slightly intimidating, but there was an underlying sense of comfort that the presence of the books managed to provide. Something about the smell of books – new, old, it didn't matter – was inviting to her, so she looked forward to her time spent there. But when Bonnie walked into the expansive room today, she froze.
Behind the ornate desk with his nose buried in a rather heavy looking volume sat Damon Salvatore, and not too far to the right of him, in one of the imposing, overstuffed chairs was Stefan looking over a newspaper. Neither one seemed to be aware of her presence and so she contemplated her ability to leave the room for cleaning until tomorrow morning without getting into trouble.
Ever in tune with her plots for escape, Damon chose that moment to look up, catching her eye with his. A ghost of a smirk played with the corner of his lips as he simply watched her hesitate in the doorway.
I can still leave. He doesn't know why I came in here. Maybe I took a wrong turn?
Damon lifted an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to make some sort choice. No. Challenging her to make a choice; daring her to stay. Her eyes narrowed reflexively and she was in the room before she even realized she had made the decision to move.
She couldn't see it, but she just knew he was smiling, so resolutely she concentrated on her work. An hour or so passed like this. All three of them occupied in their own tasks, a few words being passed between the brothers now and then, and then the silence would resume. Bonnie was almost finished the entire room when Stefan spoke suddenly.
"There is to be a carnival passing through town this week."
"Oh?" Damon answered distractedly.
"Yes." Stefan hesitated briefly before continuing on, "Do you suppose... Miss Katherine would enjoy the carnival?"
Damon looked up at this, studying his brother for a moment before replying flippantly, "How am I to know? Do you I look like Miss Katherine? If you wish to ask her, do so."
"Yes, of course." Stefan said more for his own benefit than anyone else's. He paused a moment, longer than the last and then tried a different approach. "Do women enjoy the carnival? Is that appropriate?"
"Stefan." Damon managed to sound completely exhausted.
"I only ask since you have more... experience with the fairer sex," Damon glanced in Bonnie's direction, their eyes meeting before she quickly directed her attention elsewhere, frowning to herself. She hadn't realized she had been watching him. "I thought you might be able to offer some advice."
"Very well, my advice is this: ask Miss Katherine to the carnival. Do it soon or I shall beat you to it."
"Damon." Exasperation coloured his voice.
"I am serious, little brother. If you do not make the effort to escort her, I will. It would be such a shame for all that beauty to go unappreciated. I certainly appreciate it."
Leather being rubbed by cotton signalled Stefan rising to his feet. "Miss Katherine usually takes to the garden at this time of day, does she not?"
"I believe so."
"If you will excuse me...?"
"By all means..."
Bonnie peeked over her shoulder and watched Stefan toss his paper on the side table and walk out the door. Turning back to her work, she tried to relax. There was no way she would let him know she was uncomfortable, because she wasn't... she had no reason to be uncomfortable. Right? Exactly.
Dusting rhythmically, she waited for him to say something.
And waited.
And waited...
Looking back over her shoulder at the desk she found him still reading away. Her eyes swept over the picture he made with his head bowed slightly; hair falling across his forehead, some gathered between the fingers of the hand propped against his temple. Her eyes drifted down coming to rest on his collar which was unbuttoned to what she would have believed to be an inappropriate degree for this time period but seemed to be the fashion for those with nowhere to be. From this angle she could just make out a hint of collarbone –
What the hell was she doing? Shaking her head she focused even harder on her work. Unfortunately that lost its charm sometime 15 hours ago and couldn't hold her attention for very long. Ignoring the blaring warning bells in head that she was about to do something stupid, Bonnie decided to break the silence.
"What are you reading?"
Lifting his eyes away from the book and onto her, he offered her a raised eyebrow before replying shortly. "Dante's Inferno" He then let his eyes drop back to the book.
Okay... "Is it any good?"
"Yes." He answered, not even bothering to look at her this time.
WTF? What the heck was going on? Glancing around the room just to make sure there wasn't anyone else there that she hadn't noticed before, she found it to be empty besides them. Weird. "Is there something wrong with you?"
"I'm perfectly healthy, thank you for asking."
Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she begged whatever was out there for patience. Always a smartass. It seemed there were some similarities between the two Damons after all. "That's not what I meant. Why are you ignoring me?"
Looking up in mock surprise he responded, "Ignoring you? Why, Bonnie, I'm simply doing as you requested, or do you not recall?"
Narrowing her eyes she tried to figure out what he meant. A sudden "Oh" escaped from her lips as she remembered asking him to not to talk to her anymore last night in the stables. She felt herself frown. She didn't actually think he'd listen to her, and it bothered her to discover that it bothered her that he actually had.
"To be honest," he continued, "I hadn't actually believed you meant it, until you failed to appear for our... illicit meeting, as you so eloquently put it."
Her already narrowed eyes narrowed further. "I told you I wasn't coming. It's not my fault you convinced yourself I was."
Lips pulled down, he let out a "humph" before turned back to his book.
Struggling, Bonnie managed to reign in the desire to throw a book at him as she spun sharply to face the shelves. God, he was so... annoying! It didn't matter what time period, he seemed to know exactly how to piss her off. Breathing deeply, she slowly felt her frustration ease out of her.
This was a good thing. Now he'd leave her alone. That's exactly what she wanted. This was good.
"I'm disappointed, you know." Damon's voice drifted over to her, sounding almost as if he didn't want to be heard.
She faced him then, her brow furrowing. He was staring sightlessly at his book. "Excuse me?" She could feel the frustration beginning to boil again, just beneath the surface of her skin.
"I had thought you were different."
"Different how?"
"I couldn't tell you. I... I have never met anyone quite like you before. I had thought..." He trailed off, his eyes peeking up at her before focusing on his book again.
Bonnie bit her lip. She had the vaguest feeling she being played like a fiddle right now, but against her better judgement, she pushed the feeling aside. "Thought what?"
"That you were like me."
"And what are you like?"
Taking his time, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Like a piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit."
Frowning, she tore her eyes away from his to study the point on the opposite wall just above his head, hoping that would quell the sudden ache in her chest. She had never told anyone this, not Elena, not Caroline, but sometimes she felt really out of place. Like she didn't quite fit. She couldn't explain what it was or where it stemmed from, the vague feeling of being separate from the crowd, so she'd never tried.
She had tried explaining the feeling to her Grams once, and she had said that it was a by-product of her inability to accept half of herself: the witch half. So Bonnie had strived to become comfortable in her own skin and just when she felt like she was beginning to accept her heritage, her Grams had died. Since then she had felt even more out of place. It was so unfair. It was unfair that Damon Salvatore might be the one to understand. This was not the type of conversation she wanted to be having with him off all people. Bonnie usually enjoyed irony, but this was just too much.
Should I push away the only one who might understand? She was forced to ask herself as she became aware of the desk chair being pushed back and Damon getting to his feet. God! Why does this have to be so difficult? Swallowing past the bitterness in her mouth she allowed her eyes to fall on his back as he gathered the book under his arm and started to make his way to the door. "I am." She whispered, not sure he had even heard her since there was no pause in his stride.
"I am." She repeated, firmer now. "But that doesn't mean we should start hanging out."
He spun suddenly, his brow crumpled in confusion. "Hanging out? What does that mean?"
"It's... where... It's – It's when people..." hang out? How do I explain that? Sighing, she decided on another approach. "The point is we can't be friends."
"Who says we cannot be friends?" He challenged.
Me. Settling for something he might actually understand she answered, "The world. "
"And you care what the world thinks? If we listened to what to the world thinks, you would be ignorant simply because of who you are. But we both know that's not true."
Footsteps echoed just outside the doorway and Bonnie swung around to face the shelf. She waited a moment after they had faded before turning back to Damon.
"It's not the same thing."
"Is it not?"
"No."
Taking a small step further back into the room, he eyed her critically. "I never took you for a coward, Bonnie."
"Excuse me?" She couldn't help but feel offended.
"You heard me." He crossed the room, coming to stand directly in front of her. "I refuse to believe that anyone as fascinating as you would agree to being constrained by society."
Ignoring the fact that he had just called her fascinating, she felt it was her turn to do some critical eye searching and focused on what he was really saying. "I know what you're doing. I'm not an idiot."
A spark entered his eyes that betrayed the otherwise innocent expression of his face. "Doing? What am I doing?"
"You're trying to goad me into doing something reckless."
He smirked mischievously, "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean." He stepped away from her and made for the door, stopping just before he reached it. "I have an inkling that I could be found at the stables tonight... if anyone were looking for me."
Without a second glance he exited. Oh, he was good, but if he thought that he could manipulate her into doing what he wanted he sorely mistaken.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
Damon smiled over at her as he finished fastening the saddle on Lenore "You will not regret it."
"I already do." She said more to herself than him. How she had managed to convince herself that this would be a good idea was beyond her. She had no reason to be here and every reason not to, and yet, here she was.
She followed a few paces behind him as he led Lenore out of the stables, scolding herself silently the entire way. I shouldn't be encouraging him, she thought darkly to herself. If there was one thing she knew about Damon, either version: you gave him an inch and he took a mile. She had no intention of becoming friends with him, but by coming out here he was sure to believe otherwise.
She was just so bored. There was nothing to do here! She had been lying on her bed staring at the off-white colour of her walls contemplating making shadow puppets with the candlelight when she had thought, Fuck it. I'd rather be riding a horse. Next thing she knew she was sneaking out of the servant's quarters and making her way towards the stables.
If Emily ever found out about this, she'd be pissed.
That's why Emily will never find out about this. This is a one-time thing.
"Here should be far enough." Damon's voice cut through her thoughts. She looked around to find them in a large open field, far enough away from the main establishment that the grass was slightly overgrown from lack of attention.
"Is this land yours?"
"Yes, all the way down to that post." He pointed off into the distance. There was no way she'd be able to make it out in this dark though. The moon provided just enough light to see a few feet in front of her. She could see Lenore fairly easily due to the light catching her mane and she could just distinguish Damon, his features rather indistinct, except for his eyes, which almost seemed to glow in the darkness. "Or where I believe the post to be."
Apparently he couldn't see anything either. She tried not to be amused by this, but allowed a tiny smirk to pull at her lips.
"How am I supposed to ride if I can't see?"
"You don't need to see in order to ride a horse."
She lifted a sceptic eyebrow that she was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to perceive and so added for good measure, "You don't?"
"No, not at all. Riding is about synchronicity, becoming one with the horse."
She almost expected him to add Wax on. Wax off. She felt her tiny smirk grow a little bigger. "I'd still feel more comfortable if I could see, considering I've never done this before."
"I'll be with you. You will be perfectly safe."
His words of reassurance did nothing to ease her discomfort. If anything, they made her more uncomfortable. Was she really about to get on horse in the pitch black with Damon Salvatore and only one good arm?
Well when I put it like that... this is truly the dumbest thing I have ever thought of doing.
"Da – Mr. Salvatore."
The sudden burst of air that escaped his lips made her jump slightly. She could just make out the abrupt change in his frame as his shoulders slumped forward. "Yes, Miss Bonnie?" He asked, somehow managing to sound completely exasperated.
Noticing the emphasis he had placed on the honorific, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you annoyed with me?"
"No... I." He paused briefly before switching attitudes, "Yes. Yes, actually I am. If I may be so bold Bonnie, I would request that you refrain from calling me Mr. Salvatore. It makes me feel so... old."
She allowed herself to smile at that considering he wouldn't be able to see it. The idea of Damon feeling old was amusing, especially when she knew him as being... Hesitantly, she asked, "How old are you?"
Tension could be seen in the outline of his frame as he processed the personal question. Slowly he answered, "Five and twenty."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, why?"
"You seem older sometimes."
"How old?" There was a line of worry colouring his voice.
"28?" She phrased it like a question, in hopes of softening the blow if she were being offensive.
"That's not terrible." Relief clear in his voice, "As long as I'm not as bad as Stefan... my brother. He's only 17, but he acts all of 52."
Her abrupt burst of laughter surprised even her. She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle it, but a few tendrils snuck through the cracks of her fingers. It was so true. Stefan was an old man in a young person's body.
Facing away from her, he gathered Lenore's reins and tossed over his shoulder, "Are you ready? I'll help you on."
Sobering, she let her hand fall back to her side; her fingers busying themselves in the creases of her skirt. "I don't know."
He spun to her then, coming close enough that she didn't need to squint to make out his features anymore. "Bonnie, trust me." He held a hand out to her, waiting for her to make her decision.
She bit her lip, weighing the pros and cons a final time before releasing a deep sigh and tentatively placing her hand in his.
It was far warmer than she had been expecting. Even though she was aware of his humanity it was strange to be reminded of it in such a concrete way. His fingers squeezed gently around hers as he pulled her towards the horse.
Once they were stopped Damon released her hand and gathered the reins again. "I'll hold her still for you." He dropped down on to one knee as if he were about to propose marriage. She must have looked as confused as she felt because he chuckled softly before clarifying, "You will need to step on my leg to be able to position yourself properly onto the saddle."
"Oh." Still feeling rather uneasy, she took a cautious step forward before pausing. Noting her trepidation, he patted his leg encouragingly. "Which foot do I use?"
"Your left." Lifting her foot, she placed it gently on his leg. "Now you'll want to take hold of the back of the saddle, but do not pull yourself up. You need to push up with your legs. Your hand is just there for balance. And once you push yourself up, you will need to bring your right leg forward in order to seat yourself."
Her head felt like spinning from all the information. Taking a calming breath, her hand gripped the smooth leather of the saddle and she began to push herself up. Lenore shifted marginally at the sudden weight being placed on her and Bonnie released her hold on the saddle, letting herself fall back down to the ground too spooked to trust herself to be able to get on the horse.
Noticing her panic, Damon was quick to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "You're fine. Everything is fine. Try again."
She stared at him with wide eyes hoping he was just joking. He simply smiled at her and nodded towards the horse. Giving herself a quick mental shake, she gathered her nerves and tried again and this time she was prepared for the subtle shifting as Lenore adjusted to her weight.
"I did it." She exclaimed, a little taken a-back at the sudden height difference. She hadn't realized how tall Lenore was. Taking in what she could make of her surroundings, she noticed something peculiar. "Why am I facing this way?"
Damon, who had risen to his feet, scrutinized her position. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"I'm sitting sideways on a horse... Shouldn't one of my legs be on the other side?"
"It is customary for women to ride side saddle." He stated, sounding completely perplexed, though his tone betrayed a hint of amusement. "Though you should be facing forward more than you are, and you need to place your left foot into the stirrup."
Taking the instructions, Bonnie couldn't help but feel that this position was a little unstable. "Are you sure about this?"
"Positive. Now hold on to the horn."
"What, this thing?" She pointed to the only part of the saddle that protruded.
"Yes. We are going to walk."
That was the only warning he gave before starting to lead Lenore slowly through the dark, open field. Bonnie had the horn in a death grip as she felt Lenore walk beneath her. It was an interesting feeling, completely different from riding in a car. In a car, if you had good shock absorbers, you couldn't even feel the road beneath the tires, but on a horse, you could feel every muscle working in its body as it moved. It was kind of surreal.
Bonnie's grip on the horn loosened into something firm but relaxed as she grew more comfortable with the way Lenore moved. They continued like this for a while, with Damon glancing back at her every so often. Probably to make sure she was still on the horse.
Eventually he brought the horse to a stop. Assuming he meant for her to dismount she waited for him to tell her how to get down, but he simply stood in front of Lenore, holding her reins. Not knowing what else to do, she said, "I enjoyed that more than I thought I would."
As if he had been waiting for her to say that, he smiled widely and replied. "Good, then you should love what comes next."
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Something about that sentence screamed trouble. "What are you talking about?"
Still gripping the reins, which he manoeuvred over Lenore's head, he came to stand beside Bonnie. "If you would be so kind as to remove your foot from the stirrup, you shall know."
The alarms bells going off in her head were enough to deafen her. Whatever he had planned, it was bound to be reckless, and she told him as much.
"How would you know that? You don't know what I'm planning."
"I don't need to know what you're planning to know it's a bad idea."
Rolling his eyes, he retorted, "Humour me."
Bonnie Bennett, you are going to regret this, she thought to herself even as she lifted her foot out of the stirrup. Damon didn't hesitate before placing his own in its stead and swinging himself onto the saddle behind her.
Her head spun to face him as she whispered venomously, "What are you doing?" She was desperately trying to quiet the shock resonating through her veins at suddenly being enveloped by him on all sides. His arms encircled her gently as he held the reins on either side of her, and she wasn't even going to think about his legs.
He offered up a cheeky smirk before replying, "I promised you a ride." She fought hard not to blush at the innuendo that she hoped he didn't realize he was making. "I hardly believe that a short walk across the lawn qualifies."
"Short walks are fine. I love short walks! Really, I don't need anything more than that."
An eyebrow lifted, but he didn't comment and she glared in response. The sounds of the night air seemed to get louder. Lenore shuffled underneath them, restless for something to do. Finally, Bonnie relented.
"Fine," she said as she turned forward again, "since you're on the horse already, you might as well do whatever you had planned."
Arms flexing around her, he nudged the horse into motion and they took off across the darkened field.