A/N: Ahhh the moment you guys have been waiting for... The BAMON reunion!

"You never get a second chance at a great first impression."

Damon

MY SKIN FELT LIKE THERE WAS POWER HUMMING BENEATH ITS SURFACE waiting to spring forth. Every night I was out hunting, stalking my prey like a lion does in the wild. Every night as soon as the moon rose, I became a predator– my bloodlust driving me to act on my impulses. Every night I was dancing on the line of life and death and found it invigorating. I craved it like an addict looking to score my next hit. This was an adrenaline rush that felt akin to creeping up a rollercoaster and waiting for the drop that never came. But something about this rush didn't seem normal. It was primal. I knew it was wrong. I knew that I was mad, so for that, I kept these urges to myself and I wasn't particularly fond of being examined like an abomination. A hunter was only as good as his guild and I refused to be the weak link.

Only… I was the weak link, at least, that's how everyone in my guild perceived me at the moment. The Salvatore Family was under much scrutiny due to my own shortcomings as a hunter. And for that, it led us to this predicament.

I had been walking amongst them– my guild– for months in hopes of doing several things: remembering what it was like to be normal, finding the bastard that did this to me, and now meeting with a pompous Vampire Lord that was beneath me. It sounded like a waste of time… and it was also on the list of things that I hated. I was the poster child for the phrase, "Life is Short."

As I stepped on the cobblestone laden street that was slick with rain, I groaned as I slightly slipped and lost my footing. I glared at my brother out of the corner of my eye as he chuckled at my misstep. If all of these elements combined weren't bad omens, then I didn't know what they were.

When I first left this town, it hadn't been on the best of terms. My family was anxious as they wanted me to take on my official duties leading the hunt for the stone. Ironically considering the fact that it was located in this town– this bane of my existence. My, how times have changed. That being said, I had also been requested (forced) by my family to attend a sit down with the Vampire Lord, Lucian Deveraux, for a crisis that was affecting the netherworld… and to seek his assistance for interpretation of this prophecy.

Let me clarify, I was forced because I am currently skating on thin ice with my guild. That's right, the golden child was on… a bit of a time out with our guild because of one, small– minute really– little incident. By our standards, it wasn't exactly a minute issue. The last time I was in Mystic Falls, I found myself bewitched by a witch and one, one night stand later I was fighting to keep my honor. Finding out Bonnie was a witch was the biggest shock to my system, especially when that was something that I, of all people, should've known. Since my accident I could sense the forsaken, but all it took was one night with tequila versus my usual bourbon and next thing I knew I was balls deep inside of her in the front seat of my Shelby GT500CR Mustang.

I was completely bewitched. There was no other explanation. Her very being intoxicated me and had me throwing our manual out of the window. Unfortunately, I was unaware of her true nature. As I mentioned, witches were some manipulative beings who warped reality. What transpired was nothing more than lust and sorcery. Looking back and knowing what I know now, that had to be the only viable explanation. I would never knowingly involve myself with a forsaken, least of all a witch.

Though I refuse to admit it aloud, when I was with her, it felt like some missing piece of me clicked inside of my being. I only shared our drunken hormone induced hookup with my cousin. Stefan was less than thrilled about it, but all we needed to do was produce children with mortals. My feelings for the woman couldn't be categorized as love, but it was cellular and so deep that I was drowning in her. I was covered with her. I knew, of course, this was a one-time thing, especially knowing that I was a hunter and she was nothing more than a very pretty, convenient warm body. I'd put her and our tryst behind me once I left this hellscape. However, when I did leave, I didn't account for my departure from Mystic Falls damn near ripping me in two.

It's been three years since, and new information has been revealed, which led to the current position that I'm in. Luckily, that was my saving grace. I was summoned to my hometown of London. I was naive enough to believe that there was new information relating to the Resurrection Stone, but I was clearly wrong. I was summoned by my family because they knew about my mistake while in Virginia.

Apparently, there were rumors circulating through the grapevine regarding my relationship status from years prior. I was ready to defend my actions, citing the fact that having a relationship with a passer was not frowned upon, and in fact, encouraged. But before I could get a word in edgewise, I was presented with evidence to the contrary. My lover was not a passer…

She was a witch.

How could I have been so blind? I was used to bending the rules because that was my nature. I was defiant by trade and refused to adhere to the strict rules set by the Hunter's Guild. And now…I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I'd pushed the envelope time and time again, stressing the elders, making a name for myself by being reckless, but getting results was my bread and butter. This time I went too far.

On one hand I could falsely admit to knowingly being involved with a witch, which was a direct violation to our code in efforts to keep our bloodline safe from demonic influences. Or I could tell the truth and say I didn't know, and have my entire reputation as a hunter and competency as a man be questioned. I was virtually stumped. As I looked at my family, I was feeling something akin to anxiety formulating in the pit of my stomach. If this got out—that a descendent from an original had a romantic entanglement that was beyond physical means with a forsaken– I would be exiled and stripped of my brands that identified me as being a hunter and my family ostracized. That was a fate worse than death. I didn't know a life without being a hunter, and I wasn't looking forward to starting one now

No such luck.

After a half hour of deliberation of my fate, I was presented with my only option. I was to take a leave of absence to investigate the rogue hunter attack (that may or may not be the catalyst orchestrated by my guild to get me one-on-one time with Lucian Devereaux). Sometimes you had to do what you had to do. The reason that I wasn't completely banished from my family was due to the fact that it was simple. I was the one involved with the surrogate daughter to an ancient vampire who could potentially read this ancient text. Not only that, but to further prove my loyalty, I did coordinate an attack on said surrogate daughter. Two birds, one stone. I showed how far I was willing to go to prove my loyalty to my guild, and I was able to have an 'in' with our best chance at redemption. However, there was the unspoken understanding that hung in the air— this was my last chance for me to prove myself.

You slip up one time…

Though I was irritated at the prospect of coming back to this shit hole, it gave me a sense of familiarity. Additionally, the prophecy played a huge part in my decision making. It was well known throughout the vampire channel that I was feared and revered. I was royalty— a prince—in my own rite and killing off one of our kind was a status boost. Not many could go toe to toe with us and live. Sure, that meant that rogue creatures of the night tried to actively kill me, but that simply added to my adrenaline rush. Prior to my incident, I hate to say it, but I was the perfect soldier. My agility, intelligence, and raw power was the perfect amalgamation of what was needed for this job. My ancestors' vision was brought to life.

Once I… died, I came back differently. My body moved as fluid as a lithe dancer on stage as I continued to fight for survival each day. My flurries of punches and kicks landed like poetry. And now I was royally pissed off because I didn't see the puddle next to my parked car and my suede Chelsea boots were now sodden with rain water. That was it, I was going to burn this bloody town to the ground.

I stared at the lounge in front of me, aptly named Pandora's. The signage was neon purple and written in cursive and hung delicately on the building in the heart of Mystic Falls, Virginia. When I entered the establishment, I was pleasantly surprised to see the club in full swing. Rap music blared through the speakers as the patrons grinded to the beat. I could smell hookah smoke in the air mixed with the sweat and arousal of the people occupying the warehouse style lounge. The bar was a rustic, two story style building with hardwood floors and lowlights. In the center, there was a track shaped bar that held a smaller circular shelf that was lined with only the best top shelf liquor that was illuminated by the lights underneath each shelved panel. Pandora's was bustling with numerous people crowding the area awaiting their drinks, whilst six attendants managed each surface; catering to the whims of their customers. The sounds were deafening as the bass reverberated against the walls with Hip Hop.

I could feel a migraine coming on. All I wanted to do was get to a quiet room and handle business. I scanned the area in search of any possible threats as I was trained to do whenever I entered the outside world. I could see the demons wearing human flesh as they tried to goad ignorant mortals into going home (or to the nearest bathroom) to siphon off their energy or get their rocks off with them. In special cases, both tended to happen. As a hunter I was instilled with the power of true sight, which meant that I could see things regular humans were oblivious to. I was able to see 'beyond the veil' as we called it.

Vampires.

The humans, however, were blissfully unaware of the dangers that these creatures posed. Though I was aware of the type of establishment that I was walking into, the pit of my stomach burned with anticipation for a fight. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears in a deafening beat. Instinctively, I slowly reached into the waistband of my jeans to retrieve my silver tipped stake and unleash holy hell on Pandora's.

And then…

I saw her... the golden brown skinned she-devil that haunted my dreams for the last two years. It felt as if my world stood still. All music faded into the background like white noise and at that moment, the only thing that mattered to me at this point in time was her. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I swear I was having heart palpitations.

Bonnie.

The only woman I hated. Being away from her caused an unexpected hollowness to form inside of my chest. And finding out what she was, brought inexplicable anger. My world went from technicolor to sepia. Any brightness that she had contributed to my life, faded away into nothingness. But here I was, less than fifty feet of the woman who unknowingly held my being in the palm of her hand. Her hair was different, instead of the once long, straight mane that fell down to her back, she now forwent that style and dyed her hair blonde and wore her hair in a mixture of tight and loose curls that framed her face and bounced with her every time her body danced about the bar. Her body was covered in perspiration that caused her skin to glow under the lowlight. Her lips were lined with a deep red lipstick that allowed her teeth to shine white when she smiled. I was angry that my body reacted to her instantaneously.

She was…

Mine.

And just like that, the brightness that I thought was lost, returned in high definition and surround sound. It was a feral sensation that I've never felt before in my nearly thirty years. I was blown away by the feeling. I craved her. My mouth watered.

It was no secret that the ladies loved me; hell, even some men loved me, but no one in life could compare to this… siren that was calling to me without the use of words. Three years ago, she found me half dead in a cemetery.

All it took was one time.

And she turned my world upside down.

And I hated her for it. I lusted for her. I craved her.

She became an addiction that night– one I couldn't wait to get another hit of again. I needed her like a man needed water. And then I woke up from the dreamlike state that she put me in, to find my passenger side empty with the scent of vanilla and cocoa butter stale in the air as a vague reminder that she was there.

I hadn't seen her in two and a half years, but tonight changed that. I was like a man possessed as I watched her pour the next round of drinks. Slowly and involuntarily, I felt my feet move swiftly towards her with Stefan hot on my heels. It felt as though people were parting like the Red Sea so that they could create a pathway specially made for me in order to reach her. As I approached, I watched her shoulders tense as she stopped wiping down the counter. The moment I approached her, she paused as her eyes met mine.

By God she was beautiful.

A dark angel, even.

She was everything I wasn't supposed to want.

I hated her. I yearned for her. I craved her.

Being with Bonnie would've been the death of me. Quite frankly, it nearly was the death of me. She was forsaken and she was a liability. That meant that being with Bonnie was a giant middle finger to my entire lineage. I loved everything that being a hunter entailed. I loved the thrill of the chase. I loved the fighting. It was like an all consuming aphrodisiac that left me wanting more. Whereas Bonnie…

For all intents and purposes and at the rate of sounding like a complete pansy; she made me believe that there was more to me than just Damon Salvatore, the most revered hunter the netherworld has ever seen. I basked in the blood of my enemies and reveled in the fame that it brought me. I was in love with the passion that raged inside of me in the anticipation of a fight. But then meeting Bonnie was quite possibly the worst best thing that could've happened to me.

The night that I died and came back, Bonnie was there at my side– a total stranger with the bedside manner of a lunatic– insisted on not leaving me to die in the middle of a cemetery in peace. She couldn't have that, of course. It was just like her to not take no for an answer. Bonnie was pushy, demanding, sarcastic, talkative, and quite frankly a bit of a psychopath, but I liked that about her.

I didn't like anyone. From that moment on, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't stop thinking of the way her sodden hair framed her face or the way that she smelled like sunshine, cocoa butter, chocolate and darkness. Or when she was irritated, how her already dark eyes darkened further into obsidian with anger or lust. Don't even get me started on how damned defiant she is. I fucking hated it. She could go toe to toe with Lucifer and argue her way to becoming the Queen of Hell.

That's how I'd describe her. All grit-– courtesy of every branch from the bitch tree that she hit when she plummeted to earth. But make no mistake, though this woman could hold her own, she was also soft– an enigma. Nothing like the passers I've run into in my travels. It was quite possibly a byproduct of being in close proximity to a bloodthirsty vampire who was the Lord of this town. How he came to be okay with a mere mortal in his inner sanctum, is the greatest mystery of this world.

Stepping into Pandora's this evening I had a game plan, and running into Bonnie was the last thing that I wanted. She was a distraction that I couldn't afford. But whoever said: "absence makes the heart grow fonder,"was full of shit.

When our eyes locked, I felt the world slip beneath my feet, catching me off balance like the slippery cobblestone outside. I noticed everything about her. I could have drawn her from memory if given a pencil and paper. From the brown skin tone to the beauty mark above the top right corner of Cupid's bow and the other small one on the left side of her chin. I could even see the prominent scarring impugned on her shoulder. That was new. I knew her body like the back of my hand, because of the hours I spent committing it to memory. This scar mimicked an eight-pointed star. I gulped as my throat suddenly became dry and constricted. It was a hunter-made bullet that had pierced her skin, and its location was intentional. It was not meant to kill her, it was meant to do something far worse.

Mine. My internal voice snarled possessively as the monster inside of me thrashed inside the walls of my head fighting to be released. Well damn, that's a voice I hadn't heard since leaving Virginia. My being howled and raged like something was wrong . Is this what a paStefan attack feels like?

She was seduction incarnate and she was probably oblivious to the hold that she had on the male species. This woman ignored the foolish boys that vied for her attention. Pathetic fools. She needed a real man.

She needed…

Me.

It was hard to breathe. Here, staring back at me, was the woman I actively tried to forget. The one that tried to disappear from my grasps. I hadn't expected to run into her so soon after I got back to town. I had thought I would have a second to prepare to see her. The universe, apparently, had other ideas. And that's when I remembered what she was.

I looked at her, and she stared back- eyes wide. At a point in time, I delusionally believed that it was a look of doe-eyed innocence, but looking at her now, I knew that was a facade. The reality of the situation was that she was anything but innocent. She was one of them, and I was a hunter. My anger at her being returned tenfold as I sauntered up to her section of the bar. Bonnie looked frozen in time, almost as though she couldn't believe that I was standing right in front of her.

To be frank, I nearly forgot that Stefan was even here. I had a mission, and my mission in life was to make her life a living hell.

"Witch." I greeted with a sneer.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and narrowed as she leaned forward. As a reflex or motor memory, I matched her movements and leaned forward. It felt as though the world around us slipped away. The pulsating music turned into white noise and all I could hear was her. All I could see was her. I forgot what it was like to be without her. I forgot what life was like before her and what life was like those two years without her.

I had gotten too attached.

Despite the fact that she ghosted me, I had to leave Virginia without closure and I was angry as hell about that. I didn't even believe in closure, and yet, I wanted it with her. I had my team keep tabs on her, which was a key reason as to why I came back to this cruddy town. One might call my feelings towards her obsessive; and whilst that may be true to some extent, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to possess her. I craved her. Being without her felt like a hole in my heart. Or what I envisioned a fate worse than death. I was hollow. I was slowly driving myself batty. And for what? A witch who tricked me?

I was dying without her. And no one else seemed to notice, nor seemed to care.

Except Stefan.

That one night with her was the most meaningful time of my life. I would deny it if anyone asked, but Bonnie showed me what life was like outside of the world that I lived. This witch living in a little town by choice as the adopted daughter– a princess within her own rite– of a several hundred year old ruthless vampire lord, managed to make me feel things that I never expected.

I lived.

But at this moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was us. I knew she felt palpable chemistry between us. Whether she wanted to admit it or not…it was there.

And so was the pressure of the soda gun, breaking the connection between us.

The pressure from the soda gun penetrated my chest and Coke soaked me to my core. I wrenched my eyes open and looked at her in disbelief. What the f-

"Bonnie! What the hell?" I yelled at her as I stood up, nearly toppling over the bar stool beneath me. This crazy bitch! Here I thought that our reunion would be the stuff of dreams, but this was clearly a bloody nightmare. What was her problem?

"How's your wife?"

Oh yeah, there was that.

A/N: So, how was that for a reunion?