Disclaim! Everything has been disclaimed!
-Peeking head from behind the Curtain of Shame- Hi guys... I know, I'm a horrible person for not updating in so long! I kind of just fell of the face of the earth, didn't I? Hopefully this never happens again. I'm going to try to return to updating every week or at most every other week. I'd like to thank everyone who politely badgered me for this chapter (you guys know who you are). I really appriciated it and it helped me get my game in gear and get this chapter out, so THANKS!
On a good note, this chapter's really long! So I hope that sort of makes up for the ridiculous wait. Also, to make it up to you guys, since I've been so negligent, I was thinking of making a short series of unconnected one-shots or drabbles based on prompts sent in by you guys... that is, if you're interested. Final A/N - The Lion King song mentioned in this chapter may be hard to remember, 'cause it's super short and I forgot it existed until I rewatched the movie recently. As such I've added a link so you can watch it for yourself, either before you read the chapter or after. It might be better to watch it before though. Just remember to take out the spaces! -
http:/ youtube .com / watch?v=OBE_T-K8nhY&NR=1
Bonnie shifted on the mattress in an attempt to get the loose spring to stop jabbing her in the thigh. She leaned back against the hard wood of the headboard, her eyes drifting shut as she let Emily's voice wash over her.
"If time were a grain of sand in an hourglass – no, not an hourglass, that's too controlled. There is an end to it. There must be no end... If time were a grain of sand on a beach... yes. It would be moved by the ocean, by waves. I must become the waves of the ocean – oh, that's absurd!" Emily's elbow poked her side gently as she readjusted herself on the bed beside her. "I must move time as the ocean moves a grain of sand. How does one do that...? If I could transfigure..."
Emily let out a deep breath and moved again as if suddenly uncomfortable. Bonnie could feel her brow pulling together in confusion, and popped an eye open to peek at her. She had never seen Emily so restless before.
"Maybe you should leave it for now?" Bonnie suggested.
"Hmm," was the only reply Emily gave her while frowning darkly, but she didn't disagree.
The mid-afternoon sun was just beginning to lower, the warm rays crawling their way across the room and onto the bed, begging Bonnie to bask in them, which she did. It felt great against the sore muscles of her legs and lower back. She had muscles hurting her that she hadn't even known existed. Who knew riding a horse would be so painful? But definitely worth it. She tried not to smile as she thought back to the other night.
She hadn't had so much fun in a long time, too long really. It was kind of sad that when she finally did it was with Damon Salvatore of all people. I shouldn't even be thinking about this right now. She glanced sideways in what she hoped was a completely inconspicuous fashion and studied Emily out of the corner of her eye. She tried to avoid thinking about her exchanges with Damon when she was around Emily, just in case she could read her mind, which she highly suspected sometimes. Irrational? Yes, but she suspected it none-the-less.
"Bonnie?" Emily turned to her and so she gave her her attention. "Are you familiar with the art of transfiguration?"
"What?"
Emily cast her eyes down as she pulled at a loose thread on her blanket. "Transfiguration is the ability to create an illusion in order to make one object appear as another. It is said that if a witch is strong enough she could make the illusion a reality."
"Meaning?"
"She would be able to quite literally transfigure one thing into another."
"Wow. Sounds useful."
She lifted her eyes back up to Bonnie's, a small smile at her lips. "Yes, it would be." Hesitantly, she placed a hand upon Bonnie's and squeezed gently. "I would like to teach you this."
Sitting up suddenly, Bonnie stared at her incredulously. "Which part?"
"I myself have yet to master changing one object into another, but I could teach you how to cast an illusion. It may prove beneficial to know."
"Okay. Sure."
Moving off the bed, Emily snatched a spare quill from the small jar on her writing desk before coming back. Bonnie scooted closer to the edge of the bed to make more room for her and Emily sat back down beside her, leaving a pocket of space between them. She smoothed out the surface of the blanket with her hand before placing the quill on top of it. Reaching forward she took Bonnie's good hand in her own and brought it to hover over the quill.
"Now you must clear your mind of all other things. Create a clear image of what you wish the quill to become and slowly imagine the quill shifting into that object. Do you have an image?"
Bonnie, eyes closed in concentration, pictured the sleek silver lines of a letter opener before turning her thoughts back to the quill and trying to imagine what it would have to do to become that letter opener. After a few attempts Bonnie felt her confidence rise. "Yes."
"Good. Now repeat after me." Together they slowly recited the ancient spell, over and over again until a pressure started to build between them. There was a heat emanating from the quill and with each recitation of the spell it grew warmer, almost burning the skin along her arm and hand that was still entwined with Emily's. An itch began just behind her hairline, but she tried to ignore it.
Wasn't that always the case. Whenever you couldn't use your hands there was some part of you begging to be scratched. Focusing harder on the quill, the pressure continued to build, but the itch seemed to build with it. Just when the pressure felt too much to handle, like her skin was on fire, the feeling dissipated leaving a sudden chill in the air and with it left the itch.
"It is done." Emily stated in hush tones.
Looking down to where the quill once was, Bonnie was a little taken a-back to find her imagined letter opener sitting in its stead. Pleasure bubbled up in her chest as she reached to pick it up. "Hey, it worked."
As soon as her fingers brushed against the blade, she could feel her little bubbles of pleasure start to burst. Picking it up, she inspected her handy-work. It looked like a letter opener, but it certainly didn't feel like one. The weight was all wrong, and there was something really off about its texture. It was soft to the touch. To be honest, it still felt like a feather, which made the sensation of holding it kind of disturbing, but the kind of disturbing that was slightly addictive.
"Is it supposed to still feel like a feather?" Bonnie asked, twirling it between her palms, mesmerized by the clash of sensory input. When Emily didn't answer, Bonnie glanced at her from under her lashes and what she saw was more disturbing than the weird 'feather/letter-opener.'
Straightening up, Bonnie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Emily seemed to be experiencing a clash of sensory input herself, her face completely indecipherable as she studied Bonnie intently. Slowly, she spoke, a smile finally breaking across her features, "You may want to see this."
Getting up from the bed, Bonnie followed Emily across her room to her little vanity. Picking up her handheld mirror she held it for Bonnie to see. Completely confused Bonnie peered at her reflection and screamed.
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY HAIR?" It was white! No. Not just white, snow white! Pure, unadulterated freshly-fallen-snow-white! And to make matters worse, Emily had the audacity to be laughing at her.
"You think this is funny?" Bonnie snapped, unable to keep the shock from seeping into her voice. Great way to find out Emily has a sense of humour... Feeling childishly vexed, Bonnie sought to sober her. "What if someone sees me like this? How am I supposed to explain this away?"
Emily's laughter quieted till all that remained was a carefree smile, "You have nothing to fear. We have finished our work for today and tomorrow is a free day; you can haul away in your room for then. No one will see you, and by the time you are needed the spell should have run its course. It is just an illusion after all. It will fade eventually."
Still feeling vexed she couldn't help being a pessimist. "And if it doesn't?"
"Then we'll take matters into our own hands." Emily countered brightly, her smile never fading, "How you've managed this at all I cannot begin to fathom."
"You and me both." Bonnie whispered darkly to herself. Crossing in front of Emily, she picked up her mirror and took in her reflection. Turning her head every which way, she couldn't help but smirk. Now that she wasn't side-swept by the shock of seeing her hair, she had to admit it wasn't terrible. I kind of look like Storm. That's pretty kick-ass.
Placing the mirror back down, Bonnie turned her attention to more important things. "Do all illusions fade eventually?"
"The stronger the witch, the stronger the illusion, the less likely it will be to fade on its own. A counter-spell will more than likely become necessary."
"If there are counter-spells why don't we just use one to fix this?" She asked, pointing to her hair.
Emily's smile shifted until it was something closer to wicked. "It may prove to be a useful learning experiencing, no?"
"Uh, no."
Thank God Emily wasn't serious, Bonnie couldn't help but think to herself for millionth time that day as she worked her way through the mansion. She couldn't imagine having actually had to spend her free day trapped inside her room waiting for her hair to become normal. Emily had had her going for a while there though. For a good hour, she had pretty much convinced Bonnie she wasn't going to help her. To say she freaked out would be pretty accurate, and of course, Emily found this hilarious.
It was weird seeing Emily so light and youthful. Really, she was probably around the same age as her. It was disconcerting to think about. The only time Bonnie had really 'interacted' with Emily before had been during the whole amulet debacle and she had seemed so... untrustworthy, like she was playing games with her. Here she always seemed so burdened that sometimes Bonnie forgot that there was more to her than just her powers.
She only really talked to her about magic and the spell, now that she thought about it. Was how she interacted with Emily any different from how Elena and the others used her now-a-days? Bonnie shook her head, suddenly frustrated with herself. At least Elena and she had history together to make up for the way Bonnie was letting herself be treated lately, but Emily... they didn't even know each other. She was acting out of some familial obligation.
Alright, note to self: try hanging out with Emily at least once without letting her bring up magic. She couldn't handle the thought of using someone and the least she could was try to get to know her ancestor.
Walking slowly down the hallway towards the parlour, which was kind of like a modern day living room (minus the T.V.), Bonnie stopped periodically to dust the portraits that aligned the walls on either side of her. Just across from the parlour doors hung her favourite painting in the entire house. It was of an angel or so Bonnie thought, since no one that beautiful could be human. It wasn't an ordinary beauty; it seemed to seep through canvas from within the woman to steal one's breath away. It wasn't a vain beauty either. There was far too much kindness in her eyes and her shy smile.
Her hair was dark and cascading, slightly curled, but the curls were loose, lazy and relaxed as they fell around her face, framing her. Her skin was pale, but not sickly looking, and her cheeks rosy. She had eyes so blue they leapt from the painting with a life of their own and the blue of her dress only furthered the effect. Around her neck hung a simple pendant off a white gold chain, she couldn't tell what type of stone it was but it seemed to contain every colour imaginable inside its tiny tear drop shaped frame. Bonnie had a hard time tearing her eyes away the woman every time she passed.
Behind her, indecipherable voices floated from behind the parlour doors. Frowning, she crossed to them, making to open them when one of the voices made her freeze.
"That's what I like most about you, Damon. I feel I can tell you anything and not be shunned for it."
Katherine.
Bonnie's heart wanted to go into double time, but she took deep, hopefully silent, breaths to calm it.
"Who am I to judge? If my father had the means he would ship me off to Africa just to hide from all the shame I've brought him." Damon answered, his voice light and flirty. Katherine laughed prettily in response.
Great, she's working her mojo on him. Bonnie rolled her eyes in annoyance and then bit down on her lip as she weighed her options.
"We two are very similar. I find that you and I have a connection, don't you?"
She really didn't want Katherine to think she was eavesdropping, which she would if Bonnie continued to stand outside the door because there was no doubt she could hear her heart beating. But should she just leave and allow Katherine to sink her claws into Damon, as she was clearly beginning to? Or should she risk being flayed alive and break up the little love fest?
"What of the connection you share with my brother?"
Bonnie's eyebrows shot up, impressed with Damon's sudden tactical challenge. Maybe Damon wasn't completely blind after all. Maybe he could fend for himself.
"Stefan?" Katherine asked, feigning confusion. "Stefan's sweet, but he lacks a certain thirst for life. He's not like us. We understand each other..."
A sudden hush fell in the room, making Bonnie shift uncomfortably. It was too quiet. There was only one thing Bonnie could think of that would allow for this much silence and she really hoped they weren't doing it. Grimacing at the suspicion playing in her mind, she squared her shoulders.
Obviously Damon is willing to toss himself under a hungry lion, but luckily for him, I'm here to save him – the moron. What part of 'messy situation' appeals to him so damn much? Shaking her head she couldn't help but compare current events to events of the 21st century... not much had changed.
Lifting her hand, she hesitated slightly before pushing the doors open with maybe a little more force than necessary. Katherine and Damon jumped apart, swinging around to face her, looking shocked and in Damon's case slightly guilty. Bonnie tried not to eye Katherine as she made her way further into the room. Katherine had no reason to look shocked other than to fool Damon, but clearly she must have known Bonnie had been outside the doors. She wanted them to be caught... the question was: why?
Clearing his throat awkwardly, his cheeks warm from embarrassment, Damon looked everywhere but at Bonnie as she crossed in front of them to the other side of the room. She chose the spot in front of the ornate mirror to start dusting since it allowed her to keep an eye on them without having to face them directly, and let's be honest, she was paying them far more attention than her work.
From the corner of her eye she watched Katherine slither back up to Damon. Watched as she leaned in close to whisper something in his ear that made his already red cheeks burn brighter, his lips pulling up into a small smile, obviously enjoying the attention.
Bonnie fought hard not to scoff in disgust, but couldn't stop herself from glaring daggers at Katherine's reflected back. What a monstrous, two-faced – Bonnie took a deep, calming breath, letting the air expand her lungs until they felt they would burst before slowly breathing it out. How someone could willingly pit two brothers against each other she couldn't understand. And what was worse, he was letting her tear his relationship with his brother apart.
It's true. All men think with their dicks, she thought bitterly.
Damon's eyes travelled over Katherine's head as she continued whispering whatever filthy things she was whispering and found Bonnie's in the mirror. He looked away almost immediately, the smile fading from his lips. Then to both Katherine's surprise and Bonnie's, he took a giant step away from Katherine and cleared his throat, throwing his eyes around the room until they rested on the piano forte in one corner.
Walking over to it, he sat down at its bench and played a few notes experimentally before glancing over his shoulder. "Miss Katherine. I'll play something, if you will accompany me."
Watching Katherine shift in the mirror, Bonnie got the sense that she was uncomfortable. Thinking about it it made sense, considering Elena couldn't sing to save her life and since she and Katherine were identical, both physically and vocally... No one would want to hear Katherine sing if she sounded anything like Elena. Bonnie felt oddly satisfied knowing this and had to bit her lip to stop from smirking wickedly.
"Oh, well perhaps if I know the song." She answered vaguely.
"I will play one you're sure to know. Long, Long Ago. Everyone knows that one."
"Alas, I do not. I have never heard it."
Bullshit, Bonnie thought, her smirk getting a little wider.
He turned to Katherine fully then, his brow furrowed, completely flummoxed. "Is that so?"
"I'm afraid it is."
"Huh," he breathed, turning back to the piano and playing idly. "How about America? Surely you know that one..."
"Please, no."Bonnie muttered under her breath, her smirk sliding from her face. Patriotic songs always had a nasty tendency of looping in her head until she felt like she was losing her mind.
Having heard her complaint, Katherine's eyes snapped to hers in the mirror and Bonnie looked away, struggling to keep her heart from beating too fast and giving away her moment of panic. She focused on the rhythm of her strokes as she dusted and that seemed to help.
"Girl?"
Bonnie froze. Damon's idle playing, which had given the impression of practised skill, suddenly hit a rough patch before coming to an end.
"Have you not been standing in the same place since you walked in?" Katherine's voice sent needles of ice up and down her spine, despite how sweet and unassuming she tried to sound. "Surely the shelf is not that dusty."
Mustering up what courage she had, Bonnie lifted her eyes to the mirror and met Katherine's. "Oh, you'd be surprised."
Katherine's eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing her as an empty smile climbed her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something but Damon interrupted before she could.
"Miss Katherine, since I cannot persuade you to sing we will be forced to find some other way to occupy our time."
Turning to face him, her smile melted into something more natural. "Under different circumstances I'm certain we could find many ways to entertain ourselves, but as it is..."
Damon blushed lightly at the subtle insinuation, one corner of his lips quirking slightly. "Yes, that is a pity."
Bonnie fought the sudden urge to throw something hard at him and settled for rolling her eyes discretely instead. Not nearly as satisfying.
"Perhaps a walk into town would interest you? It is a beautiful day, and I am long overdue to visit my dear friend Pearl."
"Ah," Damon began, sounded reluctant, "were it any other day I would be happy to escort you. Unfortunately I have business with my father I need to discuss and cannot be away from the house for any length of time."
"I see." Katherine said, sounding disappointed, but there was a wicked gleam in her eyes that tainted the effect. "Well that is no matter. I am certain Stefan will be happy to take me in your stead."
And sending one last flirty smile his way, she exited the room in pursuit of Stefan.
"As am I." Damon muttered to himself, louder than was probably intentional. He sat, his back to the piano, shoulders tensed and yet slopped forward, his brow furrowed. He looked... conflicted. Bonnie eyed him curiously.
"Do you really have business?" She asked after a few moments of silence, her curiosity getting the better of her.
His eyes lifted to hers in the mirror and she turned to face him directly, not even bothering to pretend to dust anymore.
"Yes... And also I wished to speak with you in regards to last night."
Suddenly wishing she was still pretending to dust so she wouldn't have to look at him, Bonnie shifted her weight back and forth before settling most of it on her right leg. "What about it?"
"I agree. We should not make a habit of it."
She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to remember what he was referring to.
The night air was starting to leave a chill under her skin as Damon slowed Lenore down to a halt. With practised ease he dismounted before releasing the reins and turning to her, his arms stretched out to her as if waiting for her to give him something. She looked at him questioningly and he smiled in return.
"Are you coming down? Or were you planning on living up there?"
She rolled her eyes, before narrowing them at him. "How am I supposed to get down when you haven't told me how to?"
Arms still outstretched, he stepped towards her, his hands level with her waist but not touching. "It's no great science. Simply fall forward and I will catch you."
She was shaking her head before she even realized it. "That doesn't sound like the proper technique."
He dropped his arms then, a deep sigh leaving him. When he spoke he sounded exasperated. "If it will put your mind at ease you may use the stirrup as a step and step into my arms."
"Is there really no better way to do this?"
"Bonnie..." He sang tiredly.
"It just doesn't sound entirely convincing."
"You know, I'm beginning to believe you have trust issues."
Yeah, and you have yourself to thank for that, she just managed to stop herself from saying aloud. Instead she released a long, steady breath before asking, "So I just step out and you'll catch me?"
"I promise."
Bonnie hesitated for a moment before letting go of the horn and turning to sit sideways on the horse. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she pushed herself away from the horse and into Damon Salvatore's waiting arms.
She could feel the heat of his hands through the cotton of her dress as he held her securely around the waist. Slowly, he lowered her gently to the ground, until her feet were firmly planted.
Her good hand, which had found his shoulder on her short journey to the ground, drifted back down to her skirt to lose itself in its folds. Damon, ever the gentleman, didn't allow his hands to linger where they were no longer needed. Once certain she was on her own two feet he turned his attention to gathering the reins, but not before throwing her a self-satisfied smirk.
As Damon began to lead Lenore back to the stables, Bonnie couldn't resist sticking her out at his retreating form despite how childish it made her feel. There was some satisfaction to be found in the fact that she had just insulted him without him even knowing. Talk about petty...
The walk back to the stables was quiet, but the silence didn't feel strained or put on. It was comfortable, like in that moment nothing needed to be said. It wasn't until Damon had Lenore back in her stall and ready for the night he finally broke the silence.
"Was that as terrible as you imagined it would be?" He asked. The light hanging from one of the posts was doing amazing things with his eyes; it was difficult to look away.
"No... I'll admit, it wasn't awful."
"Good." He smiled at her and she didn't stop herself from smiling softly in return.
Glancing back at Lenore as she rustled in her stall, Bonnie swallowed her pride. "Thank you – for teaching me how to ride."
Stepping forward, he entered the outskirts of her personal space. "You're quite welcome."
The damn lights in the stable were going to drive her crazy. The constantly dancing candlelight played with the sharp angles of his features, painting interesting shadows across his cheekbones and his eyes were such a clear blue they seemed to capture the flames of the candles and reflect it back.
Bonnie felt a sudden need to move, to put distance between them. Swallowing around the unexpected dryness of her throat, she somehow managed to tear her eyes away from his and focused a point between his eyebrows.
"Look, as fun as this was, it won't be happening again. It would be in both of our best interests if we didn't make this a habit."
Not waiting for a response, Bonnie left the stables and a very perplexed Damon Salvatore in her wake.
Now here he was throwing her words back at her. Coming back to the present, she jumped slightly when she saw him right in front of her. When had he moved?
"Where did you go?" He asked, smirking at her.
"I was just thinking," she said, shrugging it off and charging on before he could question further, "So you agree we should stop speaking to each other."
"Now, I never said that. I said we shouldn't make it a habit. We're less likely to be caught if our meetings are infrequent."
Her eyes felt like they might pop out of her head as she registered what he was saying to her. "How does that make any sense to you?"
His brow crumpled, his mouth pulling down into a tiny frown in one corner. "Are you implying that I'm being illogical?"
"No, Damon. I'm applauding your brilliance." She snapped, before wondering if sarcasm even existed in 1864. Taking in his less than amused expression she'd go ahead and say yes.
"Oh, and now you're being facetious. That's lovely." He looked away from her then, and studied the windows that lined the left of her. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother."
Something about that remark made her gut twist uncomfortably. "What is that supposed to mean?"
He eyes snapped back to hers, pinning her to the spot. "Does my presence offend you, Bonnie? Is that it? Do you dislike me? Have you simply been biting your tongue from what you truly wish to say to me because of your position in my household? If that's –"
"Stop. Please." Damon had a tendency to ask twenty questions at once: it was enough to make her head spin. What was worse was that she had no idea how to answer these ones.
Did she dislike Damon Salvatore? Yes.
Did she dislike the man standing in front of her who happened to be named Damon Salvatore?
"No." She answered, surprising them both. The twisting in her gut seemed to intensify with this revelation and she had to wipe her suddenly sweaty palm on the back of her skirt, but she managed to look him in the eye when she continued. "I don't dislike you. If I had a problem with you, I would tell you."
The brightness of his smile was almost blinding and she tried not to feel too self-conscious as she rubbed her neck. "I had to be certain. I often forget how... forceful I can be. And you being in the position you are, you may not have felt at liberty to speak with me candidly."
"Believe me, that's not the case."
"Good." He continued, a tension visibly seeping out of him. "Then what reason is there for us not to meet one another when we wish?"
"Besides the obvious pain of death... nothing."
"Precisely." He agreed, clearly choosing to ignore the whole pain of death thing – or so she hoped. "I wish to be your friend Bonnie."
And I wish you'd stop looking at me like that. His eyes bored into hers as he waited for some sort of reply. She didn't remember 2010 Damon's stare being this intense.
Attempting to divert his attention slightly, she raised the question, "How are we going to schedule these little meetings? Every Monday and Thursday?"
His eyes travelled to the ceiling in thought, and suddenly it was easier to breath. "I suppose that is one way we could go about it. Or perhaps... a signal of some fashion. Something only we two would recognize."
"Like passing notes?"
"No. A note could be read by anyone. Something less concrete. Something one can carry on them always..." He drifted as he thought about it.
What was something that she could carry? "A tune?"
"Yes. A tune: brilliant!"
She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.
"It would have to be easy to remember. Do you know Long, Long Ago?"
She shook her head. "What is your obsession with this song?"
He rolled his eyes. "I was making a suggestion. It's not as if you're being so forthcoming."
"I came up with the idea!"
"Well your idea has only gotten us so far. If we have no song, there will be no signal. Now, do you know of any?"
Bonnie stopped to think for a while. That while stretched on for some time, with Damon making the odd suggestion of songs she had never heard of, until finally he turned to her, exclaiming, "Have you not thought of one yet?"
Bonnie could feel a heat spread painfully across her cheeks. She had thought of one alright, and no matter how hard she tried to think of another she kept coming back to it... but it was so embarrassing.
When she was really little, she, Elena and Caroline had all been obsessed with Disney. When she said obsessed, she meant obsessed. Caroline had actually been convinced that she would grow up to be a Disney princess, like that was a career position or something, and nothing anyone could say could convince her otherwise.
Bonnie's favourite was The Lion King. She had every song memorized (even the sequels'), but there was one song in particular that had a special place in her heart. The weekend Bonnie had gotten the movie on VHS, and she brought it over to Caroline's house and they (plus Elena) proceeded to watch it in a continuous loop. Caroline's favourite part of the movie was when Timon distracted the hyenas with a hula dance and song. No matter how many times she saw it, she laughed like it was the first time.
A few months later, Caroline's dad left for good and Caroline was a wreck. Nothing would cheer her up. Elena and Bonnie tried to spend as much time with her as possible, but she barely spoke to them. It was like being in a room with a shadow, which was really hard take since Caroline had always been the bubbly one.
One day, as Caroline sat on her bed staring at her wall despondently with Bonnie and Elena on the floor leaning against the side of the bed near her feet, Bonnie began to sing the hula song to herself. Hearing her, Elena eventually joined in. A noise from the bed made them pause mid-lyric and they looked at each other, having a silent conversation.
Getting up to her feet, like she did it every day, Bonnie faced Caroline and began to not only sing, but enact the little scene from memory. Elena was quick to catch on and took on Pumbaa's role with complete and utter conviction.
Bonnie had to give Caroline some credit, she held out for quite a while before finally breaking down into a rolling fit of laughter on her bed as her two best friends continued to make fools of themselves. And to this day, no matter how big the problem seemed to be, the hula song (especially when accompanied by embarrassing dance) was guaranteed to pull at least a smile from her.
And now, for some reason she couldn't get it out of her head.
"Well?" Damon asked, impatience starting to colour his tone.
Suddenly finding his simple white cotton shirt fascinating, Bonnie refused to meet his eye. "There's one song..."
In her periphery she could make out him lifting an eyebrow at her.
Oh God, was she really going to do this?
Feeling like her face was on fire, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before singing. "Luau! If you're hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat/ Eat my buddy Pumbaa here, because he is a treat." With her eyes closed it wasn't so bad. She could pretend she was doing it for Caroline. Feeling herself relax a little she began to bob her head.
"Come on down and dine/ On a tasty swine/ All you have to do is get in line!"
Her favourite part was coming up and as she sang it, she started to do the corresponding movements she had choreographed when she was 7, just like she always did. "Aaaaare you achin' (Yup, yup, yup)/ Fooooor some bacon (Yup, yup, yup)/Heee's a big pig (Yup, yup)/ You can be a big pig too! Oy!"
If Bonnie hadn't have been running on autopilot at that moment she would have made a conscious decision to leave out the pelvic thrust at the end.
Somewhat frozen in horror by her own actions, Bonnie slowly opened her eyes and brought her hand back down from where it had gone to her head in the last action. Tentatively, she raised her eyes to meet the wide, surprised eyes of Damon. If she wasn't so embarrassed she would have found his slack-jawed expression funny.
He stared at her for a long moment, obviously struggling to process what he had just witnessed and then, slowly at first, he began to shake. It took her a second to realize he was laughing, because initially he made no noise, but soon enough his laughter was bouncing off the walls and enveloping her on all sides.
It was times like these she wished she could melt into the floor. Now that would be a useful power.
Bonnie waited as patiently as she could for his laughter to die down, but each time he seemed to gather himself together his eyes would meet hers and he would curl in on himself, shoulders shaking with mirth. It was really annoying.
"What – in the world – was that?" He somehow managed through his incessant laughter.
Oh great. Now she had to think of a plausible back story for a Disney song. "It's, uh... it's a... really... popular... folksong from Canada." Sure. Why not? She was Canadian after all.
"Damon? Is that you?" Stefan's voice called from the hallway, warning them of his entrance only seconds before he appeared himself.
Isn't he supposed to be in town with Katherine? And yet, here he was.
"What could possibly be so funny? I could hear you from the other end of the hall."
Gaining some composure, Damon managed to straighten up, but he couldn't quite quell the laughter completely nor did he bother to wipe the huge smile off his face. Looking about the room his eyes landed upon the windows. "I... I saw father trip and... it was very amusing."
Stefan frowned, "That's not funny at all. That's terrible."
Damon pressed his lips together in thin line and nodded his head gravely, "Yes, of course. You're quite right. I'm a terrible person. I should atone for my sins. And I shall, right after a trip to the kitchens. I seem to have... an achin' for some bacon."
It took all of Bonnie's will-power not to groan out loud.
Stefan's eyebrows shot up to hid behind his bangs. "I beg your pardon?"
Walking over to him, Damon placed an arm around his shoulders and leaned in as if they were conspiring together. "Perhaps I can convince chef to cook some for breakfast tomorrow." Throwing his head back as he laughed, he released Stefan and made his leisurely way down the hall.
Stefan watched him go, before turning to eye Bonnie curiously. She felt like she was being x-rayed by Superman and began to shift uncomfortably. The back of her legs bumped the shelf gently and she decided now was a good a time as any to finish her long-forgotten work, but she didn't manage to fully relax until she heard Stefan's footsteps retreating down the hall.