A/N: this was originally going to be much longer, but then i realized that if i write a fic that goes AU in early seasons that means i have to actually watch early seasons. so this is short, but, hey. we can always use more femslash. and bi!bonnie.

damon-as-a-girl is no less awful but a lot more interesting, i think. see the end for more notes on that.

Daniela Salvatore is a trainwreck, but somehow Bonnie can't make herself look away.

She doesn't know what it is about the elder Salvatore that draws her attention. Usually when people beg to be seen like Daniela does, Bonnie gets no small degree of satisfaction from outright ignoring them. But something about Daniela draws the eye, even outside the whole supernatural-good-looks thing. She drinks like a fish, looks like a model even wearing baggy men's clothing, and hits on every girl who catches her eye.

Maybe it's the last part that catches Bonnie's attention. Mystic Falls is a quintessential small Southern town in a lot of ways. There is a gay couple-one of them works at the high school-but people mostly just…ignore it. The way they aggressively ignore that the Bennetts are one of the few Black families in town.

Not that she's sympathizing with Daniela, or anything. The bitch has killed people, her Grams, almost murdered Bonnie herself.

But there's something about the way Daniela continues sticking around and trying, despite failure after rejection after failure.

(Maybe Bonnie does sympathize. Just a little bit.)

Bonnie didn't like the boardinghouse when she first started coming over with Elena, but she has to admit it makes a good place to hang out. Daniela built up a small collection of magic books, so once Bonnie gets through Grams's she starts looking into those, too. It's become increasingly clear that Bonnie will have to learn as much magic as possible if she wants to keep her friends alive.

Sometimes, though, Bonnie hears things she's not meant to. Like today; as she finds her way to the library, she hears Elena say, "I'm not Katherine. I'm nothing like Katherine. And even if I were, I'm with Stefan."

Bonnie hears Daniela's disbelieving chuckle. "You sure you're nothing like her?" Then, softer: "You never know until you try."

She can picture what Daniela's face must look like, all wide-eyed intensity, a smug smirk on her lips. Bonnie has seen that particular look on the vampire's face more than she would like.

No sound comes from the library. Did Elena seriously take the vamp up on her offer?

But-no. Of course not. "I don't need to try," Elena says firmly. She's using her scolding voice, the one that comes out around Jeremy sometimes. "It's not going to happen, alright?"

Another pause, then a sigh. "Give it time," says Daniela, but there's no real conviction in it.

Soft footsteps sound on the floor. Too late, Bonnie realizes where they're heading-just as the vampire throws open the door Bonnie has been standing behind. "Eavesdropping, Bon-Bon?" Daniela leans against the door frame, all lazy confidence as if she hadn't been rejected only seconds previously. Maybe you get used to it, after a while.

"I wanted to look at your grimoires," Bonnie says quickly. Unaccountably, her face feels hot-something about the very, very obvious scan of Daniela's eyes. She resists the urge to adjust the neckline of her top.

"What a coincidence," says Daniela. "I was just on my way to the library." She turns and gestures for Bonnie to go ahead of her.

No matter how well Bonnie can defend herself, she doesn't want to be cooped up alone with an irritated vampire. Especially not one who had almost killed her once before. "You want to join me?" Bonnie asks Elena, pointedly ignoring Daniela.

Elena's eyes dart back and forth, and she worries at her lip. She opens her mouth to speak, but then the door creaks open. "That must be Stefan," she says, apologetic, and Bonnie waves a hand. She can't begrudge Elena boyfriend time, even if that does leave her alone with said boyfriend's evil older sister.

"What do you need in here, anyway?" Bonnie asks, once she's poking around on the shelves.

"Do I need a reason to be in my own library? That I'm graciously letting you use, I might add."

She gives her an unimpressed look. "Actually, Stefan is letting me use it."

Daniela shrugs. She sits back in one of the comfortable chairs, feet propped on the table. In her sneakers, jeans, and loose flannel, she looks like she should be drinking a beer and watching TV-not sitting in a library with books more valuable than Bonnie's house. "Stefan's not the oldest. Technically, it's my library."

"Were women even allowed to inherit in your day?" Bonnie points out.

Daniela shrugs, her mouth setting into a thin line, and Bonnie turns away. Point to her.

Still, she can feel the vampire's eyes, focused on her like a laser sight between her shoulder blades.

She wants to tell Daniela to knock it off, but what spills out of her mouth instead is, "Do you really have to try things with other girls to know?"

As soon as Bonnie realizes what she's said, her jaw clenches shut; she stares, wide-eyed, at the shelf, determined not to look at Daniela.

The vampire chuckles. "Why, witchy? You curious?" There's a rush of air, a sudden warmth just behind Bonnie's shoulder blades. "I've been told I make an excellent closet key."

Bonnie takes a deep, steadying breath. Then she pops a few blood vessels in Daniela's brain.

While the vampire is clutching her skull and swearing, Bonnie blindly grabs a tome from a shelf and walks toward the door. "Think I'll pass," she says, smiling sweetly at the still-grimacing vampire, and shuts the door behind her.

(It's not as if she hasn't tried things with girls before. Sleepovers with Caroline and Elena, where they'd been half-delirious from lack of sleep and stolen alcohol, worrying about knowing how to kiss once they had a boyfriend. Parties, playing spin-the-bottle or truth-or-dare. It hadn't done much for her; Bonnie was too nervous and self-conscious to know if she liked it or not. Then again, it had been the same way with most of the boys she'd kissed.

So.)

Somehow, Bonnie gets stuck with Daniela-sitting.

It's one thing to work together during a crisis. The two of them do that well. The others are idealists; she and Daniela know what it takes to keep the rest of them safe. But the vampire keeps turning up even when nothing is wrong, finding her at the grille, showing up at her house, texting interesting pictures she finds in grimoires.

She asks her why one day when, for about the tenth time, Daniela slides across the booth from her at the Mystic Grille and starts eating fries off of Bonnie's plate.

"And cut that out, you don't even need to eat," she adds, scowling as she jerks her plate back.

"Because I'm tired of listening to Stefan and Elena either boink or moon all over each other all day," Daniela says with a scoff. "It's exhausting."

Bonnie raises an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that. She's not Katherine, whatever, I'm over it." She makes a face. "But he's my little brother. Plus," she adds, like an afterthought, "you're the only one who doesn't feel the need to tell me how not into women you are all the time."

Then she steals Bonnie's ketchup, and they fight briefly over who gets to keep it.

Bonnie considers. "Still, you could be bothering anyone. There are plenty of people you could compel to like you. Why me?"

"Don't act like you really mind, witchy," says Daniela breezily. "This way you know I'm not murdering anyone, right?" She smiles at Bonnie like murder is their private joke, and steals a fry.

At the decade dance, Daniela turns up in a pristine black-and-white tux.

She twirls Bonnie around and pulls Bonnie against her and almost cares, and Bonnie really, really tries not to care back.

Then Daniela's dying, black and green spreading from the wound on her arm, sweaty and sallow on her bed.

"We'll figure something out," she promises. Because despite what a terrible person Daniela is-maybe something in her is worth saving.

"Careful, Bonnie," says the vampire. She tries for a smirk, but it comes out more like a grimace. "I might start to think you care."

Bonnie hesitates. Then she leans forward and presses a kiss to Daniela's cheek. "Maybe a little," she says, mouth dry. Daniela just stares; and Bonnie flees from the room, telling herself it didn't mean anything.

After she finds out about Jeremy and Anna, though-well, there's no reason not to anymore, right? Jeremy could cheat on her with a dead girl, but Bonnie had a dead girl of her own. So she marches over to the Salvatore boarding house.

Daniela's sprawled on the couch-passed out, maybe; the room reeks of alcohol. She looks like shit these days. It doesn't matter; she'll do, for Bonnie's purposes. She shakes Daniela awake and the vampire comes to, blearily shielding her eyes. "You're interrupting my beauty sleep," she says, slurring a little.

Bonnie reconsiders. How drunk is she? And how fast do vampire metabolisms work? Plus, just. Ew. "How long will it be until you're sober?"

"Hangover's setting in already," Daniela says, faux-cheerful. Then her eyes narrow as she takes Bonnie in. "What's the matter, witchy? Someone else die?"

"No." Bonnie takes a deep breath. This was what she was here for, right? She doesn't know how to put it into words, so she straddles Daniela on the couch, bracing her hands against the back.

"Oh." The vampire's hands come automatically to her hips. Daniela gives her a long, considering look; Bonnie glares back, and tries not to shiver when she feels cool breath on her skin. "What happened to Jeremy?"

"Do you actually care?" Bonnie asks, and grinds down a little. Maybe it doesn't have the same effect as it would with a guy-she's not sure what she's supposed to do here. But she's made herself clear.

Daniela grins and leans forward, just enough so her lips brush Bonnie's when she speaks. "Good point," she murmurs, and kisses her.

A/N: I posted this fic on AO3 a while ago but never over here, so, here you go.

Damon as a girl fascinates me, because I can't help but wonder how much of his shit wouldn't be excused-by both fans and characters-if he was not a straight dude. Would Elena have been half as sympathetic to him if he hadn't been hot/someone she could potentially fall in love with? Would being gay make him more used to rejection? How would being hated for non-justified reasons change him? Plus, a woman who dresses in flannel all the time and hits on other girls and is morally ambiguous and is still a romantic lead is, well, a lot less common than a man who does the same.

I don't think I went nearly as far into this as it deserves. If someone else has written fem!Damon Bamon, or if you want to write more after reading this-please, let me know.

Reviews would be much appreciated.