New Year, New Me

He lay on his bunk, staring up at the picture taped to the bottom of the one above him. In the time he'd been locked up, he'd received very little mail. Holiday cards from loved ones...the occasional letter from his brothers or sisters...divorce papers...

He reached up, tracing her face with a fingertip. Her lawyer sent the divorce papers almost a year after he began his sentence. After he signed and returned them, he'd started receiving pictures of his son. A few times a year, every year.

Though the photos arrived with no return address, he knew she'd sent them. That's the kind of woman she was. Despite the disaster he'd made of their lives, she still wanted him to have a window into their son's life.

And so for the past seven years he'd receive photos of the boy. Learning to walk, birthdays, riding a bike, school photos...They'd all surrounded the photo above him until last night when he'd packed them away with the rest of his stuff.

But this picture he couldn't pack away. He'd taken it himself several days after she'd given birth. He'd spent the night with his crew going over the final details of their latest job and didn't get home until dawn. When he walked into their apartment, he'd found his wife sitting in her rocking chair by the large picture window in their bedroom. She held their son in her arms as he slept; the rays of dawn beginning to stream through; illuminating them both and making them seem otherworldly.

He'd travelled the world since he was a child and still he knew that he never had and never would seen anything more beautiful.

He had no choice but to grab his camera.

"Nik, man...you awake?" A voice asked from above, followed by movement and the swinging of legs over the side.

Nik's hand fell to his side. "Yep."

"Big day...you ready for it?" His cellmate jumped down from the top bunk.

"I'm always ready, Marcel. Even when it doesn't look like it," Nik answered sitting up.

"If that were true, you wouldn't have been in here for seven years," Marcel chuckled.

Nik smiled, "Touché." Originally, he'd been sentenced to the 25 year maximum for grand larceny under New York law. But his lawyer managed to get his sentenced reduced to time served on the condition he cooperated in the apprehension of a group of copycats. Shitty copycats, really.

The Night Owl robberies were a string of ten heists across the United States. Bank robberies that took place in the early morning hours at any time between 1am and 4am. The crew responsible for them were skilled, highly organized and left little to no evidence of their presence. They never hit high profile banks and only went after smaller, federally protected institutions; relieving them of anywhere between four and ten million dollars each. The feds hadn't been able to figure out how they were able to break into any of the systems, bypass the guards, break into the vaults and flee without a single shot fired.

These copycats on the other hand had left 7 dead in their wake.

Since he had been the only member of his crew apprehended after their tenth job, the feds along with his lawyer visited him with their proposal.

He knew that no one in his crew was behind these heists. They'd done as they'd agreed. After their tenth and final job, they'd taken their cut and scattered to the winds. The only evidence they were alive and safe being the holiday cards he'd receive every year. And so he had no problem helping the feds if it meant time off of his sentence. Enough time that he'd still be able to fix things and get back what he'd lost.

With his help, they were captured and as their sentences were about to begin, his own had finally come to an end.

Today...the second day of January in little more than an hour from now, he would be a free man.

Nik stood and stretched. Last night a guard returned to him the clothes he'd worn when he arrived. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep and so he'd put them on. His jeans were a little loose in the waist and his button down shirt was now tight across his chest thanks to hours upon hours dedicated to the prison workout plan.

He reached underneath Marcel's bunk and retrieved his photo, tucking it into his shirt pocket near his heart.

"Mystic Falls, Virginia," Marcel mused. "I was born and raised in the South. Been all over it. So you know the shit's small if I aint never heard of it."

"It's her hometown," Nik answered. He should have realized sooner. The last time he'd seen her had been at his sentencing. He was considered a flight risk and remained in police custody from the moment he'd been arrested. He remembered seeing the stricken look on her face; the tears that sprang forth. The officers had allowed her to go to him, her face wetting his as she cried. She'd left their son with a neighbor so she'd been alone as she watched him be escorted from the courtroom in handcuffs.

The first few months into his sentence she'd written him constantly. Letters full of hope and love that gradually turned towards confusion before morphing into desperation and eventually anger when he never responded. Finally they stopped altogether.

Ten months into his sentence, he received the divorce papers.

"So what are you going to do when you get there? You really think she'll take you back?" Marcel asked.

"My Bonnie has a stubborn streak a mile wide and spine made of steel. She gave me her heart and I threw it away. She won't give it to me again."

"So then what are you going to do?"

Nik smiled at his future former cellmate.

"What I do best, mate. I'm going to steal it."

BKBKBKBK

"Henry! It's time to get up!"

The boy in question burrowed deeper beneath his blankets, covering his head with his pillow.

"Henry!" He heard several minutes later. He squeezed the pillow over his head tighter, clinging desperately to the remnants of sleep that he mother's voice was trying to chase away.

She finally walked into his room and stood at the foot of the bed.

"Henrik Rudolph Mikaelson, you get out of that bed right now or there will be problems and situations," she warned.

A grumbled groan was his only reply.

Bonnie shook her head slowly. It never failed. Getting Henry out of bed was an endurance test. He didn't sleep so much as hibernate and waking him was akin to abuse if the frowns she always got were any indication.

Just like his father.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way, Henry."

"Mama..." Henry groaned in complaint, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"Fine. Hard way it is." The next instant she'd pounced on his bed, her fingers honed in on every ticklish spot within their reach. Bedding and pillows flew as the little boy tried and failed to scramble out of his mother's grasp. Peals of laughter racking his small frame.

"Get up. Get up. Get up." She chanted gravely, fighting back a grin.

When Henry finally found his feet he stood, catching his breath.

"Don't give me that look," Bonnie said, smirking at her son's adorably screwed up face. "Brush your teeth, get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. Gramps will be here soon to pick you up."

She watched as the little boy shuffled out of his room and into the bathroom, grumbling the entire time.

Bonnie busied herself with pulling out Henry's clothes for the day and setting them on his dresser before quickly making his bed.

"Ladybug!" She hears her father call from downstairs.

Rudy Bennett was filling a travel mug with coffee when Bonnie entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Daddy," Bonnie said, giving him a peck on his cheek.

"Where's that boy at?"

Bonnie looked toward the ceiling and trained her ears to the sound of Henry's light footstep, The gently creaking wooden flooring of what once was her grandmother's house telling the tale as it once had when she was his age.

"In his room getting dressed," she replied, watching as her father sipped his coffee. "And before I forget...Miss Pearl came by the shop yesterday..." She struggled to hide her smile as Rudy face scrunched up as if he'd just been sipping lemon juice.

"Make sure your daddy brings my baby by to see me tomorrow," Bonnie said, her voice taking on a nasally sing song tone.

"She aint studin that boy," Rudy grumbled.

"I know. She's studin you," Bonnie grinned impishly. "What ya gonna do about that, Dad?" She teased. It was common knowledge that Ms. Pearl Gregory had taken a shine to Rudy and had zero problem using her favorite Sunday School student as an excuse to see him.

"What I always do...make sure to take Henry fishing today."

"She's a very nice lady," Bonnie said.

"A very nice lady that doesn't miss a chance to aim for my hindparts if they're in pinching distance," Rudy huffed.

"Let's go, Gramps!" Henry called, bounding down the stairs. Bonnie handed the boy his banana, yogurt cup and juice box to have on the way along with his Batman lunchbox.

She kissed him on his chubby cheek and ruffled his strawberry blonde curls. "Be good. I'll see you tonight." She smiled as she watched him follow his grandfather out of the kitchen door into a pick up truck.

BKBKBKBK

Bonnie sat in her office, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she typed a strongly worded email of complaint over the delay in the delivery of the orange blossom essence she needed for one of her best selling bath salts.

Miss Sheila's Place was a favorite for all-natural, handmade homeopathic remedies and beauty products. Bonnie's small storefront was located in "downtown" Mystic Falls and had created quite a following for itself both locally and online over the past five years.

Named after her grandmother, it referenced the routine destination suggested by everyone for any ailment.

Kid got sent home with lice? Send her over to Miss Sheila's place.

Acne out of control? Head on over to Miss Sheila's place.

Baby's not sleeping? Miss Sheila's probably got something at her place.

Boy...if you don't get yourself over to Miss Sheila's place and do something about athlete's foot...

Bonnie had spent most of her afternoons as a child watching with rapt attention as her Grams mixed and molded remedies in her kitchen—the ingredients for most of them found in the garden in her backyard.

Having been taught everything Sheila knew and expanding on that with her own education, she opened her little shop and filled it with every sight, scent and sound that evoked the memory of Mystic Falls' resident grandmother.

A glance at the clock and she knows that her father will be picking up Henry from school in a couple of hours.

"Miss Bonnie, I'm heading to the Grille to pick up lunch. You want anything?" Luka, her only employee, peeked through the doorway.

"Are you sure you're going to pick up lunch, or to pick up Ben?" She asked, smirking

"I don't see why I can't do both," the teenager shrugged, grinning.

"Nah I'm good. Caroline's picking me up for lunch in a bit. Make sure you take your keys because I'm locking up when she gets here."

The boy nodded and a moment later she heard the light tinkle of the windchimes at her front door as he left.

Bonnie finished her email and sent it before walking out to the showroom floor.

The holidays had been good to the shop and the New Year's sale she'd held earlier that month had been its usual success as she surveyed the number of "temporarily out of stock" boxes that had been checked off on inventory clipboard next to the cash register.

She turned to scan the assortment of essential oils displayed behind her, making note of which ones she'd need to replenish from her workshop at home.

It was then that she heard the windchimes as the door opened and the heavy footfall that followed.

"Be with you in a sec," she called over her shoulder, checking off a few more boxes.

"Hello, Bonnie."

Bonnie froze. She knew that voice. It had been seven years but she knew that voice. It had once been able to set her heart to fluttering with barely a word. It had been able to reach down and warm the very bottom of her soul when it spoke of love. It had broken, happy and tear-filled when he thanked her while holding their newborn son.

And as her stomach feels like it's falling into a bottomless pit, she finds that she suddenly doesn't have the breath for a coherent sentence as the gut punch of that voice shakes her.

"Nik..." She gasped.

-
A/N: This is my first shot at AH-something I never thought I'd be interested in since I'm Adult Urban Fantasy type. But I got an idea for a short small town rom com and it wouldn't leave me so I thought I'd give it a shot. I'm pretty sure that this won't be as long as my previous fic because of its relative light-heartedness, but I really hope you like it. Cheers!