The Past

Besides fake deactivating the pocket watch, the tomb spell, and the aneurysm this was the biggest thing she had done since learning how to float feathers. She wasn't even certain it would work. Notwithstanding, Bonnie really didn't want to do this.

She didn't want to do it because it went against her bylaws as a witch. Didn't want to do it because she would essentially be saving the life of the asshole who nearly killed her, whom she blamed for Grams' death, who was responsible for the deaths of countless other people in and around Mystic Falls, who hurt Caroline. She shouldn't lift a finger to help Stefan save his brother for who would really miss Damon? But…

And Bonnie hated buts for a reason. Eight hours ago Damon had approached her, had stood in front of her to thank her for doing something she hadn't done. Surprised, shocked, befuddled, she had experienced those emotions, which triggered a slither of guilt but not enough. Not enough to make her forget the horrendous things Damon had done. Not enough to warn him that he could potentially fall to his doom.

Holding on tightly to Elena's arm who struggled against her, Bonnie closed her eyes. The shrill sound of her friend's voice dimmed until she could hear nothing besides the roaring flames eating flesh, brick, wood, whatever it could torch in the warehouse. The inexperienced witch focused on the flames ordering them to listen to her, to follow whatever she said, to be quiet, to lower.

Seconds later a gust of wind ruffled her hair. Stefan was out with Damon's arm slung over his shoulder. The elder appeared haggard and exhausted; his eyes barely able to stay open. Bonnie staggered back as she let Elena go. A blast of indescribable sensation convalesced in Bonnie's head, and the world tipped sideways, yet thankfully righted itself almost immediately.

She watched virtually as dazed as Damon probably felt as Elena rushed to aid her boyfriend in carting his brother. Bonnie blinked. Stefan approached her.

"Thank you, Bonnie," he said earnestly.

The gratitude was nice to hear, but everything in Bonnie screamed she just made a colossal mistake. She straightened her posture, disinclined to show the spell tired her out more than it should have; and also, to illustrate that what she was about to say, she meant business.

"If Damon spills so much as one drop of innocent blood…I'll take him down."

Stefan sucked in a breath and for one second his grayish-green eyes darkened, but he curtly nodded and ambled off.

Bonnie could care less if Damon heard the edict she just issued. She didn't stand around to watch. She turned and headed for her car. The night was ruined. It was over, and all she craved was the silence of her house and the comfort of her bed.

Drives were never long in Mystic Falls so Bonnie didn't bother to turn on the radio. She pulled into her driveway but lingered in the car. On second thought, being alone wasn't what she wanted either.

Then it hit her that Caroline was celebrating with Matt, and Elena would be tied up with the Salvatore's. There were a few others she could call and see what they were doing, but she hadn't hung out with them in months. It might be awkward. People were pretty good about hanging out religiously with their core group of friends. Outsiders were given side-eye and yet some couldn't stop marveling at the unknown. Bonnie thought about visiting Grams' burial plot but nixed the idea. It was dark, cold, and maybe not all the tomb vampires had been rounded up and exterminated.

Bonnie stared at her house. On the outside it was inviting; the inside was taciturn and gutted. She got out of the car and walked to the front door before depression could strike.

Key in hand she was about to insert it in the lock when a gust of wind fluttered her hair. She had a visitor. Great, another vampire.

Bonnie waited a beat before turning around.

It was Damon.

She became aware of several things. The porch light at Mr. Bellasario's house across the street kept flickering. Someone's dog was barking. A car just turned the corner, the engine loud.

The light from the moon lit Damon but created hollows where his eyes should be.

He stood on the sidewalk leading to her home. Even after being rescued he failed to appear disheveled. Bonnie randomly thought if Damon, in the twenty or so minutes that passed between the last time she saw him, had he run home to shower and change? She inwardly frowned at her superficial thought and got her head in the game. Damon was here. At her house. Alone with her. Why?

"What are you doing here?" Bonnie arched a brow.

Damon soundlessly drifted closer to the witch. Her pulse began to trot a little faster the nearer he got.

"You're almost as good at lying as I am," he began without preamble.

Bonnie's proud chin jutted upwards and a glint flashed as a warning in her emerald irises. Of the things Damon could have said to her, another thank you, an inquiry after her own health, being compared as a liar to him was not what she expected, and precisely what Bonnie didn't want to hear.

He continued, "You didn't deactivate the watch. You stood there and let me thank you for shit you didn't do."

"And I saved your life. We're even. On second thought no we're not. I'm still out of a grandmother."

Damon was closer now. Not as close as he had been the day he ambushed her at school and intimidated her about the necklace. He wasn't as close to her like he had been at the parade looking as humbled as he could get.

Moving with intentional human slowness, the dark vampire stood on the porch with her.

Bonnie backed up a few paces and crashed into the front door. Her nostrils flared and her brow dimpled. "What do you want, Damon?"

He boxed her in, placing his hands flat on the front door behind her. Her face was cast in shadows, same as his, but his fiery eyes were doggedly intense. When he smiled, Bonnie saw two rows of gleaming white teeth.

Damon leaned forward leaving mere centimeters between them. He picked up a strand of her hair, sniffed it. "Don't give me a reason to want you dead, witch. You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

The sharp carvings in the door dug into her back. Bonnie knocked his hand away. "I'm not going to let you go around killing people. If you think that's going to happen I'll finish what John Gilbert started tonight."

Damon's head canted to the side, "And hurt Elena? You don't have the guts because she's the only thing you have left." He grinned a bit when saw the tendons on the little witch's neck protrude. "Oh sure there's Caroline and the dumb jock she hangs out with, but you and I both know just exactly what Elena means to you. She means more to you than your own father. You proved something tonight."

"That I'm strong."

"That you'll do anything for Elena, even protect me."

Bonnie's mouth twitched to say something, anything to refute his words. Regrettably her vocabulary was stunted, dried up like a prune. Damon was already backing away, stupid smug grin on his face.

"Hey, Damon." He paused, gave Bonnie his undivided attention. "A day may come where Elena and I might not see eye to eye…if I were you, you should be more concerned about the day I stop caring what Elena thinks," she took a step to the edge of the porch, "and that day may be coming a lot sooner than you think."

The smugness dimmed but didn't die completely out. Damon had just placed a boot on the sidewalk. "I'll circle it on my calendar. You have one time to lie to me. But I'll make an exception. You did save me. Thank you," Damon said affably.

"You're not welcome."

Damon grinned again. "One day you'll want me to show my thanks and you'll love it, too."

…Bonnie hated when Damon was right.

Had that been the start? The catalyst that led to last night? Had there always been an undercurrent, hidden attraction beneath the fights, and disagreements? Had they been so blinded by their agendas to not recognize the foundation they had been building? No. Her powers may have been faulty at times, but there was one thing, one area Bonnie never flaked on and that was her heart. The birthplace of desire, passion, dreams. Her heart had burned for unobtainable things, simple things. Damon had never been a factor until she lived with him. Until she saw the man inside of the vampire.

Bonnie sighed and rolled over in bed. Last night had been fucking hot and amazing. Her toes still curled even hours later. She blushed. She squeezed her thighs together. Lace concealed her breasts and pelvis. It made her feel sexy, feminine, reminded Bonnie of her revoked celibate state. It also reminded her that Damon had only returned a third of her wardrobe. He was holding the rest for ransom.

On the steeple roof directly across from her bedroom window, a crow scrutinized her every move. The up and down rhythm of her stomach as she breathed, the occasional side to side sway of her knees, the way she angled her neck on her pillow. She told a story without speaking a word.

Bonnie flopped on her stomach and reached for the glass of juice on the night table. She took a sip and then looked behind her out of the window.

She saw nothing but a wall of darkness.

What would tonight bring? The day had been monotonous. Attending class had been mere formality. She had an open invitation from Koffi to get blitzed and forget about her problems. It wasn't as appealing as repeating last night.

Caramel cheeks heated once more. Bonnie buried her face in her pillow and squealed.

The morning after, her regrets had been shockingly, alarmingly few and far in between. Bonnie didn't want to think about the why. If she did, she saw it as an invitation for guilt and doubt to move right on in and steal the sliver of joy that had her feeling buoyant. But there was never any real running from who she was at heart. From putting herself in Elena's shoes. How would she feel if her best friend was cavorting around with her boyfriend? She would despise them both, Bonnie knew that much.

She swallowed thickly.

Luckily her phone vibrated two minutes later. A needed distraction. Bonnie grabbed the device, smiled at the message, and hopped off the bed.

Round two.

He was the seducer and executioner, the reveler, and the lover who just couldn't quite get it right. Damon Salvatore had the jokes but lacked patience, and headed into things with the single-mindedness of a child who didn't understand the meaning of danger. Hard was how he chose to live and pleasure was his reward. He took without asking and smiled in your face about it. Almost two centuries of living had not changed that about him.

Thus, why he couldn't leave her alone.

Damon knocked on her door. The barrier opened forty seconds later.

Bonnie needs to wear red more often, Damon thought as he gave her a thorough perusal. Her dress was simple, quarter length sleeves, a flared shirt; it was the sheer material across her cleavage and the low cut back that added flair. There were those legs, those shapely legs that went on for days. Damon chewed the inside of his cheek.

He was not exempt from being assessed. Bonnie doubted any color would look horrible on Damon. He could probably get away with wearing yellow. But there was little denying the color that suited him best was black. Damon stuck with his usual uniform, black jeans and a shirt, a T-shirt she knew hugged his muscled arms, broad shoulders, and washboard abs. What was different was the gray leather jacket he wore, adding a splash of color to his monochromatic wardrobe.

A student walking down the hall did a double take when passing Bonnie's room. The witch and vampire hardly noticed since they were heavily engrossed in eye-fucking.

"What are we about to do?" she asked nervously.

Her question was met with a wolfish grin. Bonnie sighed.

She was surrounded by strangers, five total she countered, sprawled across the floor with nary a Twister mat to be found. But they were on the floor, on soft beige carpet of some swanky hotel where one wall was made completely of windows; the other, some expensive looking laminate tile imported from Italy or maybe Morocco. The furniture was eggshell and chrome, the amenities state of the art suggesting a $1000 a night price tag.

What the hell did I get into last night? She wondered. Memory was on a hiatus and her stomach let its discontent be known by growling and bubbling. A gush of saliva filled her mouth and for a second Bonnie thought she would be sick.

Her body was strewn over other various…body parts. Her foot was thrown over a complete stranger's chest. Bonnie's head, she discovered had used…another complete stranger's thigh as a very hard and uncomfortable pillow.

The disoriented witch, scrambled, removing her foot from across the slumbering male's chest who didn't stir one bit. His head was turned away from her with his button down hiked up revealing the last four of his carved-from-an-erotic-novel abs. She averted her gaze and chanced getting to her feet, wobbled as her head pounded. She searched frantically for her equilibrium amid the confusion of trying to remember how she got here and what she did last night. Her hands administered an inspection to her person. Clothes—check, panties—double check, no strange fluids or substances caked into her skin? No.

Relief whistled between her smeared lipstick stained mouth. No one Monica Lewinskied on her. However, her panic was far from subsiding.

Someone very important was missing from the group.

That's right, her brain dinged as if it were a contestant on a quiz game show. She and Damon had boarded a spur-of-the-moment flight to Miami. Now she was paying for that spontaneity and his ass was nowhere to be found. Her heart began to pound anew. He wouldn't have left her alone, hundreds of miles from home with people she didn't know from a can of paint would he?

"Damon?!" Bonnie's knee crashed into a glass table that literally popped up out of nowhere, and she stifled a scream by biting into her lips. "Dammit," she hopped forward, swinging her gaze left from right trying to find the bastard.

As she stalked through the sunken in living room, Bonnie caught a figure standing out on the terrace. Everything stopped. Her rising terror. Her swelling anger. He hadn't abandoned her.

Moving toward the sliding glass door, she paused and took in the sight in front of her. She didn't see the palm trees or the Atlantic beyond them just a black-clad figure that could have been a statute by how still he stood. The only thing that moved was his hair and shirt, ruffled by the wind.

Absently Bonnie touched the sore area of her neck. Damon had given her, her first ever hickey.

He turned to look her over his shoulder. He wore Armani shades and arched his dark eyebrows over the rim. "You look like you're ready to hurl but you're still so sexy," he grinned.

Bonnie rolled her eyes while coming to stand next to him. She winced at the sunlight and fisted her hair so it wouldn't blow in every which direction. The petite witch was doing her level best not to freak out, but waking up in a pile of strangers with little memories…that wasn't her. Whenever she partied hard, she always knew everyone who attended and never feared for her safety. Prior to learning about the supernatural, that is.

Damon slid his hands across her waist and drew her closer. He moaned and pecked her nose.

"Where are we?" Bonnie asked.

Damon sprouted off the name of a hotel she had never of heard before.

"What did we do last night?"

"I can vouch you were in rare form last night."

Bonnie massaged the base of her skull and looked away from Damon's blinding smile. His teeth were too white to take for the moment. "I don't know if I want to remember. But…I didn't…" she danced on her feet. "I didn't…"

Damon knew what she was attempting to say. "No, you didn't fuck anyone last night. Not even me." That part he mumbled petulantly.

"Guess I was a bit too preoccupied to get to that last night," Bonnie grouched.

"Nobody touched you and if they tried…let's just say they wouldn't be breathing anymore."

Sighing, "That shouldn't make me feel better but it does," Bonnie glided her hands over his knotted stomach, fondled his pecks, before running her palms over his broad shoulders.

She presented her cheek which he peppered with kisses. His hands smoothed over the skirt of her dress, grabbed Bonnie's ass to bring the beautiful witch to rest on her tippy toes. Those same hands of his disappeared, became reacquainted with her supple skin, traced the crease right where her plump ass met thighs.

Damon angled his head and kissed her temple, then the shell of her ear. Bonnie felt him hardening in his jeans, a granite rod digging into her stomach.

"I want to fuck you, portafortuna," he slanted his mouth over Bonnie's, plunged his tongue deep inside and made her forget how to spell her name.

Pussy throbbing, Bonnie pressed her thighs together and came up for air. "Did you forget our agreement?" she panted.

"I don't remember agreeing to anything. I remember…you sprouting off some nonsense stipulations or whatnot. If you think I give good head what do you think the full monty would be like? Either way it'll be good "

That wasn't the point although her insides twisted with want and need.

"But you're not ready." He tossed ice cold water on her fire.

Bonnie pulled away and glared, "Excuse me?"

Damon smiled mischievously, "Those were your rules right?"

"You break rules all the time. Why are you willing…You turned it on, didn't you?"

Damon ignored those questions. "Go sober up in the shower. I'll get rid of the trash."

"They're people, Damon and answer my question."

"What do you think? Why don't you use your witchy juju to see if you can detect any hint of humanity in me? Oh, don't tell me your powers don't work like that," he rolled his eyes. "I just loved hearing that excuse roll off your tongue time after time again."

Anger swift and sharp evicted the lust and alcohol saturation from Bonnie's head for a beat. The line that separated Damon from heartlessness always blurred even with his humanity fully intact. So Bonnie couldn't tell either way if he were faking or this was the real deal. He just continued to be a ball of predictable unpredictability. He hadn't taken advantage of her and made sure no one else did either. But he was erecting walls. He was being cold and distant but handsy. Bonnie knew she wasn't going to be able to tolerate this for much longer.

"You're lucky the tequila in my system is making it impossible for me to focus right now. But don't ever forget you'd be maggot food if it wasn't for me," she hissed.

"And I can say the same thing about you, witch. Except you wouldn't be maggot food. You just would have been a puff of smoke if I hadn't come up with the plan to bring you back from the other side. You know, you never did thank me for that."

"Experiencing the pain of a dead supernaturals death as they passed through me. Sure. Thanks. Good looking out," Bonnie snipped. "Even though I specifically told you and Jeremy there'd be a penalty. But what do I know, right?"

Damon snatched off his shades, "Are you seriously mad at me for one) being misled, and two) giving a damn enough to want to bring your ass back from the dead when your asshole ex-boy toy didn't even lift a gotdamn pinky finger to save you?"

"Um excuse me…?"

Bonnie and Damon whipped their heads to the interloper.

"If you guys are going to stand out here and have the world's weirdest foreplay, could you at least close the door?" And with that, the man slammed the sliding door shut.

They tried to fight it but couldn't keep their stern composure. Damon snorted whereas Bonnie giggled.

Going back to their fight, Bonnie realized Damon was right. She had never thanked him for being the brains behind resurrecting her. Her thanks may have been implied yet their paths had rarely crossed back in those days. When they did, Damon behaved like an asshole to cover the pain of breaking up with Elena. Kind of hard to feel gratitude toward someone who had your then boyfriend kidnapped to force your magic-less hands.

Damon studied Bonnie while she clearly thought about old shit. He didn't want to have some mushy moment. That wasn't on the agenda. He already woke up this morning feeling...peculiar. The kind of peculiar that was akin to walking through static electricity. It was the reason he needed space, air, a moment to himself to quell whatever was trying to brew and rise to the surface. Last night had been a script he followed, he counseled himself. It was having fun. It was blowing off steam. It was not getting worked up, bent out of shape, feeling inconsolable jealousy at seeing Bonnie interact with other people.

"Again, you should head for the shower," he prompted.

Bonnie stared like she had no idea what he was talking about. "Da…"

He smacked a kiss to her lips, and tried to steer Bonnie toward the door, but she refused to budge. "No. We're going to talk about this whether you want to or not."

He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

"You love me and you have for a while now," Bonnie stated. The expression on Damon's face was less than friendly but it didn't deter her from continuing. "You may have loved and been addicted to doppelgangers, but somewhere you carved out a piece of your heart…for me. And I never thanked the part of you that always looked out for me. That always helped me. So thank you…Damon."

He remained stoically mute. His chest wasn't even moving to mimic the rhythm of breathing. Bonnie hoped there'd be a flicker of emotion. Something. Anything. That her words would have melted a layer of resistance. Nothing.

Bonnie took a step back, turned and left.

Blue eyes followed her as she sauntered inside. Damon released a shuddering breath.

The door to the boardinghouse burst open and Elena entered on a cloud of perfume and stale airplane nuts. Her eyes darted everywhere and landed on the Salvatore coming down the staircase.

"Stefan? Where's Damon? I've been calling him for hours."

Shrugging, Stefan headed toward the kitchen with the doppelganger on his heels. "I don't know where he is."

"What do you mean you don't know? I thought Bonnie had him on house arrest."

"Come on, E. You know my brother. You really thought he was going to stay locked up here until he flipped his switch? You really thought he wasn't going to find a work around?" Stefan headed for the coffee machine that hadn't been used in months.

"So he's out and about without his humanity and you don't seem to care about who he might be hurting? What the hell's happened since I've been gone? How have things managed to fall apart in just a few days?"

Stefan shot her a look. "You're seriously going to ask that question?"

Elena swallowed, switched topics. "I've called Bonnie, too. She's not picking up either."

The Gilbert girl hated the feeling coiling in her stomach as she fought tooth and nail not to do the math. She tried to rationalize Bonnie's absence citing she was probably in class and simply too swamped with work to answer. Or return messages. It didn't mean she was with Damon. No, didn't mean that at all.

Yet she could never forget the way Damon told her that Bonnie wouldn't be off limits to him. Nor could she forget Bonnie refusing to stay out of rehabilitating Damon.

"Do you know where Bonnie is, Stefan?"

Not exactly but more than likely she was with Damon. He bustled around the kitchen fishing for a can of coffee knowing Caroline had stocked up not too long ago. Bingo, he found some in the cabinets above the refrigerator.

Annoyed she was being ignored, Elena rounded the center island and snatched the can out of Stefan's hands. "Answer me. Do you know where Bonnie is?"

"Technically I don't know where she is, Elena," he replied glibly.

"But you know who she's with?"

"I think we both know the answer to that."

"Gotdammit," Elena swore quietly. "I told him to stay away from her. I told him if he did anything with Bonnie I wouldn't forgive him."

Stefan steeled himself against the old him who would literally drop everything to console her. He was officially out of the madness. Trying to help Damon was doing nothing but driving the wedge further between them. His older brother would get bored with being a sociopath as he typically did. Growing tired of being one way before reinventing himself was Damon's MO.

He took the can from Elena to make the first of many cups of coffee. He felt he had to say something mostly to get her to leave. "I can't tell you not to worry because Damon is a loose cannon on an ordinary day. If Bonnie's with him she won't let him get too far out of line. And…I wouldn't worry about anything happening between them," Stefan breezed past that lie without feeling a shred of guilt. "The one thing you know you can depend on is Bonnie always putting your interests above her own. Right?"

That felt like a dig. Elena scowled.

Stefan looked at her. "Right?"

She pursed her lips. "I know Bonnie has always been a good friend to me."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. If Damon comes home I'll let him know you're looking for him."

"Fine. But I still feel like we should try to look for him."

Stefan measured out the right amount of crushed coffee beans and dumped it into the filter. "You can look for my brother all you like, Elena. I have other things to do today."

Wagging her head, the brunette stomped out of the kitchen, left the boardinghouse altogether.

Her phone vibrated and she scrambled for it out of her back pocket, fingers suddenly uncoordinated. It wasn't Damon but a message from Enzo. Elena had been primed to disregard it, but what if he was with Damon and wanted to taunt her with it?

Elena opened the message and clicked on the file attached.

Stefan heard her blood curdling scream.

Showering a night of questionable behavior and activities down the drain felt good. Rejuvenating. Bonnie mussed her loose curls, squinted at her freckles, frowned at her off-centered mouth, twisted her head from side to side. She sighed and, with her index finger, applied Carmex to her lips. She wore not a stitch of makeup and she did feel a little vulnerable. Stripped. She felt stripped.

Bonnie figured Damon would want to get back to Virginia as soon as possible, ditch her because she had the feeling she was killing his vibe, sucking the fun out of everything by, wait for it, reminding him his past good deeds. The tension that lied between them now carried no sexual undertones. It was just plain tension.

"Best to get it over with then."

Leaving the bathroom, Bonnie wasn't surprised to find Damon lounging on the bed, arms crossed behind his head.

"How long are we staying here?" she leaned her shoulder into the doorjamb. "I technically should be in school right now."

"Have you decided on a major?"

Bonnie's brow knitted in confusion at the question. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're in school because you have nothing else to do. Before you died what had you been working toward?"

The frank questions made Bonnie want to squirm. "Kind of hard to map out a future when you knew your stay was only going to be temporary."

Damon rolled his head toward her. "So in other words you wasted a year. What's a few more days going to cost you?"

"That isn't the point. I can't keep blowing off school. If I'm going to do this real second chance of having a life, then I need to do things in order. That means going to class when I have class. We can stay here for the night but we need to be back on a plane to Mystic Falls in the morning. If you want to be a dick about it, I'll have no bones about leaving on my own."

"So go."

Bonnie glared at him. "Fine."

"Fine," he parroted mockingly.

"Asshole."

Damon sat up so fast he was a blur. He was off the bed and before Bonnie in an instant. She was proud of herself for not jumping.

"See that's your problem, Bonnie. Your idea of living is doing the norm. You want to sit and listen to lectures about crap you've already spent twelve years learning. But what of the world have you seen? What of life have you tasted? Okay, you tasted the bad, the horrible, and the deadly. There's so much more."

"I know that, Damon, but going to college was always a goal of mine. And unlike you I don't have bottomless pockets. It's so easy for the haves to tell the have nots how to live their lives," Bonnie skirted around him and plopped on the edge of the bed.

"All right," his lips pulled down at the corners. "Go back to Mystic Falls. I won't stop you. Just know I'm not coming with you because I'll be getting on a plane headed for Europe."

Bonnie gaped at him. "No you're not."

He flashed a here and gone grin. "You and what army is going to stop me?"

The two engaged in their usual staring contest.

Her back sunk into the mattress, because once again, Damon moved quicker than sound and loomed above her.

"The part of me you think has loved you for a long time…well it might be willing to show you things you've never seen. If we go that means…we won't be seeing Mystic Falls for a long time. When I hit up Europe I don't take the two-dollar tour. I live as the natives do. Eat the natives," he quipped. "I enshrine myself in a country's mores and its depravity. I fall deep and sometimes the way out seems too far, but I manage and pull myself out while leaving a few broken hearts behind. If you want to be average because of the shit you've gone through, you're entitled. But my question for you is, do you want to be an asterisk or do you want to be a monument?"

Bonnie searched Damon's intensely blue eyes looking for the tell, the trick, waiting for him to laugh and retract the offer. She thought about her classes that, sure were dull and had moved her no closer to figuring out what she wanted to study that would then lead to a career. Bonnie thought of Koffi and what she might say if faced with this situation. She could almost hear her telling her to get her bitch ass on a plane. Or, wag her finger and spit how irresponsible and selfish she's being for even considering running away.

What of Elena and Stefan? Bonnie knew her friendship with the former was pretty much over, all the lines she crossed with Damon there was no going back. Her friendship with the latter never got off the ground and could hardly be referred to as such. Caroline was gone. Matt was a footnote. Jeremy was history. Any tie Bonnie had left to Mystic Falls had been summarily crushed.

Slowly Damon climbed off of Bonnie. He had one boot on the ground when she fisted his shirt to stop him. He arched a brow.

"I don't want an average life." Bonnie declared softly. "I want to be a monument."

The smile Damon flashed made her wet.

She began to push his head down toward her pussy.

"And every monument stands on a good foundation. Start building."

END OF PART ONE

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful response to the last chapter! You guise are magical. So yes, this is the end of part one. I don't think part two will be ten chapters long since I'm pretty close to wrapping this baby up. That question Damon asked Bonnie, whether she wanted to be an asterisk or a monument, I have to credit Shonda Rhimes, everything else was all me, lol. Thank you for reading, thank you to those who wished me well. Drop me a dime. See you soon, kittens.