A/N: Copyright Infringement not intended. I don't own these characters, but they are written in my own light, OOC. This is an AU.

DTBT Ch. 4 Stay

"I can't stay with you. You have to take me home, now," she said desperately. Damon went pale. He was thwarted by her proclamation.

He eased away from her, putting some space between them. He walked over to the sink and start washing a coffee cup and a plate from the morning previously. Bonnie kept him under close surveillance, her temperament withered with humiliation and dismay.

"I'm sorry, Damon. I didn't mean for that to come out the way that it did."

He stopped what he was doing. He remained tongue-tied with his hands resting on the rim of the sink, a reflecting thought in his eyes.

"I'm sorry that I came on so strong. I thought you needed a hug. I'm not sure why I tried to make, comforting you into a full on make out session." He joked at his own expense. Mocking himself helped outwit.

Her voice bubbled with humor, a sparkle in her eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking," she said innocently. "It's been such a long day."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," he repeated, still affixing his blinkers on anything in the room but her; his body was as inflexible as a steal rod.

"…so," she dragged out as she walked over to the couch, making a steeple of her fingers as she went. She sat down and announced, "Maybe I should go home. It's crazy to be away from my home on the first night that Stefan's away. You know," she advised modestly.

"What?" he finally acknowledged her. His eyes liquid pools of discourage. He high tailed it over to her. "You act like this is the first time we've been touchy feely with each other." He chuckled disbelievingly. "B, this is our thing. We're best friends; we love each other. We're there for each other," he scrambled.

"Mm." Her face contorted in deliberation. It took a full minute for her to continue. "Something feels off Damon. I don't know what it is, but when you hold me." She took in a sharp intake of air and got up from the sofa. He looked at her with anticipation of her next words.

"When I hold you, Bonnie, what?" he linked his hands between his legs, anxiousness tinting his veneer.

She rushed back to the sofa, looking him square in the pupils. "When you hold me it feels all weird, and fluttery, and tingly, and omigod, ew; it's so bizarre, and weird; it's so weird, and uncomfortable. You know?"

"Okay, I think we've established that it's weird," he blurted, riled. He flushed and looked at her with visionary eyes. "Uh, okay." He was taken aback. "I've never had my touch described as yucky, but okay."

"You're misunderstanding me. Don't you feel something?"

"No," he answered insensitively.

"Whatever." She jumped up off the couch, went back to her room, and start gathering up her stuff. Damon waited a moment, giving her space to cool her heels. He leaned against the door frame, a deadpan look on his face as he watched her collect her things.

"I can't believe you want to leave," he said flatly, in a low husky voice.

"…because it's for the best," she griped.

"How's it for the best that we be apart when we feel the way we do about everything going on in our lives right now? If anything, we need to keep each other company; you can drink your wine, and I can drink my bourbon. You know—we chill," he rationalized all spiritedly, his eyes red-rimmed from worry, and disappointment.

"Netflix and chill, huh?" she managed to kid around.

"Unf, I don't know about all of that." He bashfully scratched the back of his head. Their orbs locked in a shared understanding as they continued to share in the comical moment.

"Okay, I'll stay," she confirmed.

"…but did you really want to leave?" He cockily folds his arms, his communication bright with optimist.

She loudly snorted, then bent over in a cheerful convulsion, the source of her sounding laugh coming from deep within.

"Now come on, let's put on a movie," he said, grabbing her hands, and pulling her up on her feet.

"I'll make popcorn," she added.

She went to the kitchen, located the box of popcorn, and popped one in to the microwave. While she gathered up their snacks, he searched the catalog of movies on the TV.

"I don't see anything that great on the premium channels. We can rent a movie on demand."

"Their movies are so expensive," she frowned.

"It's just one movie." He lazily blinked his heavy eyelids and gave a shrug at her assertion.

"Okay; get something with lots of action and a good ending."

"I know what kind of movies you like, B."

"Yeah, I need to get my mind off what's going on in the here and now. A good fantasy or action movie might help."

"…or a good comedy," he answered.

"This is true," she replied as she walked over to the couch, a large bowl of popcorn in hand. "Have you seen Rampage?"

"No. Is that what you want to watch?"

She nodded. "Sure."

He found the movie, then put it on pause whilst he got their drinks. He turned off all the lights and they snuggled up on the sofa and start watching the movie. The room was illuminated by the light he left on over the kitchen sink.

He rested back in to the corner of the couch, stretched his legs out, and propped his feet up on the coffee table. She found leisure against his body, then sat the bowl of popcorn in her lap. She was uncomfortable with their closeness as she couldn't stop squirming about or cease her benign rambling. Oddly, he found her constant maundering, adorable as he hung on to every word.

"Are you cold?" he asked, eyeing her as he placed his hand on the red throw sitting on the back of the sofa.

"Only a little," she mumbled.

He covered her with the throw. They grinned at each other once finding a homely position on the couch. He swung an arm over her front. Her eyes narrowed and bulged as if a sharp knife had gone straight through her flesh at seeing his hand rest cozily on her anatomy. They fell asleep halfway through the movie. She slept comfortably on his chest, her arm stretched out on his lap, and he lay slumped over on her. Her soft, brown hair pillowing his head.

They were asleep and completely unaware of their intimate pose on the couch. They were awakened by the dead silence of the room. First Damon woke; he raised his sleepy lids to see the blue screen on the TV, and then down at the top of her head. He beamed down at her; he squeezed her to him and then tenderly kissed her forehead.

She was awakened by his effusive touch. She looked curiously up at a partially smirking Damon. "What time is it?"

He looked at the watch on his arm and read off the time. "It's eleven thirty-two."

"Wow, it's late. I wonder if Stefan tried to call me." She broke free from their benevolent nestle and then grabbed her phone, which was sitting on the coffee table.

"Did he call?" he asked.

"No," she answered somberly and then looked back at him. "I'm tired. I better go to bed. Monday's are always my longest and hardest days," she said, then got up off the couch. She grabbed the throw, neatly folded it, and placed it back where it was originally on the sofa. He simpered, impressed by her actions.

"There're clean towels in the bathroom if you feel like taking a shower tonight."

"Mm, yes. I could use a hot shower." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodnight." He leaned down and kissed her back on the cheek, his lips lingered longer than they should have.

She proceeded down the hall to the guest bedroom with a tedious slowness. She grinned once entering the room. She marveled at the beautifully decorated space. She was in and out of there so fast earlier that she didn't appreciate the gorgeously decked out bed like she did now. Damon had a keen eye for detail and style; she really admired that about him.

She sat down on the black and white comforter, decorated with red and black accented pillows. She grabbed her backpack off the floor, pulled out her personal items, and then went to the bathroom.

She turned on the water, letting it get hot. She stood in front of the mirror, abstractedly fiddling with her tooth brush as she concentrated on eyes as lifeless as those of a doll staring back at her. "What are you doing Bonnie?"

She looked at herself for a bit longer, then climbed inside the shower. She hummed with pleasure at the first contact of the hot water hitting her skin. She impatiently washed herself and barely dried her skin before putting on her night clothes.

She moved laboriously from the washroom to the inviting bed silently summoning her to take a rest. Steam followed her as she dragged her feet across the carpet, picking up friction as she went. She threw herself in to bed and put herself in the dark. She squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled deeply as she wrapped herself tightly in the covers. She nuzzled her face against the duvet and hugged it ever so close to her figure.

She lay there for several minutes, then realized she couldn't fall asleep. Her eyes widened like mushroom caps, and her mind was fully alert to everything going on in her life.

"God please protect my husband, bring him home to me. Whatever your will, let it be done." She laid perfectly still as she spoke her supplication to the Lord. A tear trundled down the side of her face as her prayer coursed from her soul. Her lashes lowered, shielding her sight from the dim illumination throughout the room. Once again, she tried to get some rest.

Her thoughts soon regressed to her moment on the couch with Damon. She blushed involuntarily. She looked over at the entry, a faint light from the hallway peeped from under the doorway.

An aching look masked her face as her thousand-yard stare remained fixed on the light coming through the breach of the bedroom door. A big part of her wanted to be near Damon. She enjoyed his company and his touch, and lately, she enjoyed and craved his attention even more. She sprang to an upright position on the bed as he rapt softly on the door. She rushed to turn on the lamp and then opened her lap top which was sitting underneath the night stand. She didn't want anything to deter his visiting her.

"Come in," she invited.

"Hey." He entered, shirtless, and wearing his black pajama bottoms. "You're up." He sent her a slight grin. "You find everything okay? Are you comfortable?"

"Oh yeah, most definitely." She gave a coy smile and a thumb up. "What about you? Are you feeling okay?"

"No. I'm worried about Stefan. We're close, in case you haven't noticed." He chuckled softly. He walked over to the bed and sat down at the foot.

"I noticed." She tittered. "You know you can talk to me anytime about anything," She put away her lap top and pulled the comforter protectively up to her abdomen.

"I'm angry at Stefan for leaving me. How dare that bastard let the government dictate his comings and goings?" he teased as he crawled up to the head of the bed. He crossed his legs at the ankles, relaxed a hand on his god-like pecks as he reclined back in bed, and rested his head on the palm of his hand. He gazed over at her. His aquamarine eyes sparked with passion, and a sexy devilish smirk adorned his lips.

"Your divorce from Stefan was a long time coming," she kidded amiably.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." That same happy smirk was still displayed on his face.

They shared an awkward silence both sightlessly searching the room and every so often given each other a proper regard.

"Talk to me; I'm bored," he persuaded.

"I don't know what to talk about. You talk to me."

"I'm sure there's some good gossip, making its rounds about the office." He chuckled.

"There's no gossip, but I'm sure you men have plenty that you talk about at the work place. You know that it's a fact that men gossip way more than women," she enlightened all cutesy and was extremely amused by her own claim.

"Whew—that's no lie." He rolled over in a hoot. "Man, I know some stories," he cast a thinking glance downward, grinning knowingly.

"Oh, share," she sassily implored.

"Oh, no; no. All you need to know is that work is great. As I've said many times before, being my own boss is the best thing that could've happened to me. I don't like bosses. I don't like being told what to do."

"Yes, I do know that, it's one of the reasons you get along so well with your dad," she slipped out, then snapped her mouth shut.

"Yeah, no need to feel bad for stating the obvious, it's true, and I'm not ashamed of how we are."

"…and you shouldn't be ashamed. No family is perfect."

"Your mom and dad are perfect," he reminded.

"They argue, too. They're just more careful." She batted her lashes hilariously. He was entertained.

They talked themselves to sleep. He slept soundly on top of the covers, inches away from Bonnie. He woke once due to the coolness on his skin. She awoke at feeling him writhing about the bed.

"Oh, no. You're cold?" her brow creased with concern for his wellbeing. Damon lay in bed with both hands crammed between his thighs for warmth. He'd rather be frozen solid, then leave her side.

"No, I'm okay," he said, barely parting his lips. He grabbed the king size pillow and covered himself.

She vibrated strongly with a hardy tickle. His body jerked, amused by her reaction. His laughter curtailed by his sleepiness. "Sh. Sh. Go to sleep," he said, grinning, his eyes tightly shut.

"Get under the covers," she demanded.

His lashes fluttered open, revealing a love-struck gawk. "You sure?" he croaked out, his brow burrowed into his face.

"Yes. Come on," she said, getting out of the bed and began pulling back the covers. He lifelessly climbed out of bed and helped her with the covers. He was too tired to wait for her to lay down first. He laid down, and she lie down beside him and then tucked him in for the night. They poured over each other with a loving visual until she broke it off.

She closed her eyes, then he closed his. She opened hers back up and caringly kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight, Damon." She settled back in and closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Bonnie." He was lost in her beauty until sleep engulfed him.

.oOo.

Damon's alarm sounded at six that morning. He woke up feeling fully rested even with just four hours of sleep. He peeked over at Bonnie and smiled before rushing off to the bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, and quickly got dressed. His outfit consisted of dark stone washed jeans, a white button down, and his combat boots.

He took a glimpse at his watch, checking the time. He went back to check on Bonnie. He cracked the door, finding that she was still sound asleep. He entered, went to her side of the bed, and gently nudged her shoulder.

"It's time to get up," he softly and happily stated in his deep voice.

"Mm, good morning. What's the time?" She rubbed her sleepy eyes.

"A quarter to seven."

"Omigod, didn't we just fall asleep." She groaned, sitting up on the mattress.

"I'll make us some breakfast," he offered, then left her to get ready.

Bonnie showered and got ready for the day. She emerged from her room thirty minutes later fully dressed in her grey slacks and a pink, button-down shirt.

"Good morning beautiful," he admired. "Here's your coffee with two spoons of crème and two scoops of sugar." He handed her the cup of coffee the moment she entered the kitchen.

"Thank you! I can't believe you remembered!" she gushed.

He leaned suavely against the counter and sipped on his cup of Joe, his shirt still undone. He benevolently regarded Bonnie as she drank her java, too. "How's the coffee?"

"Good, really good, so, what time are you picking me up for lunch?" she inquired, placing her cup down on the countertop. She walked over to Damon and instinctively began buttoning his shirt. He looked down at her hands as they closed his top. His mouth fell open; he was thunderstruck as she performed the task of tidying him up.

She finished fastening his shirt but left the top two buttons undone. She pressed her hands to his chest, trailed her fingers over his shoulders, around his neck, and linked her digits. He gave her a stunned look and forgot the question presented to him minutes ago.

"What time are you picking me up?" she asked, again, looking him straight in the eye.

"Is twelve o'clock okay?" he stammered.

"Okay." She pecked him on the lips and tried to walk away, but he pulled her back to him. He kissed her back. She smiled, not realizing the very real an intimate connection that was taking place between them. She went to the table and start eating her breakfast.

Damon's palms were pressed against the countertop; he stared vaguely at the sink with his wide-spread eyes, then took a long, deep breathe. A huge grin found its way through his stunned, articulation. He risked an erotic peek at Bonnie before joining her at the table, where he sat next to her, stealing loving hints of gooey eyes, and she gave him flirty and cutesy glances back.

.oOo.

Damon moved painfully around the office all that morning, and never once did he walk around the work site to supervise his men. He kept picking up his phone, looking at her picture. He held his phone as if it was too heavy to handle, consuming her image with his piercing ferret-like pupils. "Larry's here," his workman announced after stepping into his trailer office.

"Oh, yeah—okay," he murmured, rising lethargically to his feet. He went to exit his office when his eyes expanded with remembrance. "Shit," he blurted, then doubled back for his cellphone. He unlocked the screen, eyed her picture a few seconds, and then went to meet Larry who was just outside his office, waiting on him.

"Morning. We'll be ready for you to pour the concrete Thursday," he drawled.

A sound rang from Damon's back pocket. He stopped dead in his tracks and seriously eyed his phone. All sights were on him. His aspect brightened at seeing that it was a text from Bonnie.

I miss you. XOXOXO! I sure could use some of your coffee right now; sleepy. The text read.

He rushed to respond to her, ignoring Larry, and his employee.

I'm missing you like crazy B. I hope you're working up an appetite. He texts back.

I can go for a steak right now…LOL!

I'll see you at noon—sharp. Love you.

Love you, too. She concluded.

He sprang to life immediately after hearing from her. He was now enthusiastically into work, even giving Larry a tour of the area and showed him plans for the building. He was extremely jovial as he babbled on and on, giving, and telling Larry more than he needed to know or hear. He had nothing but smiles and jokes for his men as he strolled around the work site, ironing out problems, and supervising his men with leniency when normally he was a bit of a tyrant.

.oOo.

Damon's guest was gone. He now sat at his desk, drumming his fingers impatiently against his desk, watching the clock. The long hand hit six. He bolted out of his office in a mad dash for his car.

"Damon!" An employee called after him.

"Yeah! Yeah! What?" he shouted, turning red.

"I'm not feeling so well…,"

"Yeah, yeah, just go," he yelled as he jumped in to his truck and immediately started it up.

"I don't have PTO time! I just want to take a short nap in my car!" the man yelled and jogged after him as he backed out of the gravel and dirt, stirring it all up as he departed.

"DAMN IT! GO HOME! I'LL PAY YOU!" He snarled loudly and burned rubber out onto the street, flipping off the horn beeping and peeved motorists as he set off down the boulevard.

.oOo.

He hurried in to Bonnie's office, sweat peppering his brow, shirt wet under the pits from hauling ass across the parking lot under the, blazing and scorching sun.

"Hey, Damon!" Alicia welcomed flirtatiously.

"Yeah, whatever," he said rudely, marching right on pass her.

"Hey!" he greeted after entering Bonnie's office, his eyes vivid with happiness.

"Damon!" she gasp after examining his appearance. "You're sweating like a pig!"

"Pigs don't sweat. Hey, aren't you the veterinarian?" He smirked while pointing his finger prominently at her.

"Ha. Ha. Funny," she said sarcastically, then laughed. "Where are we going?"

He wrapped an arm intimately around her back and put his lips to her ear to tell her the name of the restaurant as the sauntered down the hall. Alicia gave them a flayed glower with her mouth all warped with envy and disdain. Outside, Damon opened the door for Bonnie. He kissed her on the cheek several times before she fully climbed inside.

He drove to the restaurant going five miles under the speed limit, squeezing in as much time as he could with her.

His gentleman-like behavior didn't end after they arrived at the restaurant. He opened the door to the café for her. They were greeted by the hostess. Bonnie excused herself to powder her nose. Damon was seated at their table. He sat down and drummed his hands gently against the table while he eagerly waited for Bonnie to join him.

"Hello, my name is Crystal. I'll be your waiter this afternoon. Here are your menu's. Can I get you and your wife drinks while you wait for her to return?" Crystal welcomed.

He gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, she's not my wife. She's my sister, and yeah, uh, I'll have a iced tea with lemon, and she'll have a coke zero." He blushed.

"Well, in that case." She leaned over the table and wrote her number down on a piece of paper and slide it over to him.

"Oh, great," he susurrated, then forced a grin.

He went rigid. His brother's words began to echo in his mind. He begins to ponder over his actions of late when it came to Bonnie, his brother's wife.

"…so—Crystal, what's an appropriate time to call you?" he probed, unmoved, his gaze went to the table while he toyed uneasily with the menu.

"Any time after seven is fine. I get off at six tonight." She stood there, staring down at his perfectly teased raven hair.

"Okay, I'll call you," he answered indifferently, then sat up straight in his chair, coupling his hands on top of the table. He then focused on an empty space in the air between them, eluding eye contact with the, philandering woman.

She radiated, pleased with his answer, and practically skipped away from the table, her long blonde ponytail wildly chasing after.

A few moments later, Bonnie joined him. "Hey, did I miss anything?"

"I ordered you a diet coke and the waitress gave me her number," he informed in a dejected tone.

"Oh…oh…okay," she faltered and politely nodded.

"Is something wrong?" he gave her a curious glance.

"No, it's just that she knows you're here with another woman and she asked you out. That's a little rude, don't you think?" She pointed out, piqued.

"She probably thought I was alone. I don't think she saw you," he answered, being economical with the truth in a daring attempt to difuse the strain, pleading to rear its ugly head.

"I guess that totally makes it better," she responded cynically; Damon slapped the table, his laughter floated through the air like a tune.

He calmed, still winded from being so amused by Bonnie's conduct. "You know," he breathed, composing himself to finish his thought. "You and Stefan were right. I do need to settle down. Who knows, this one could be the one," he taunted.

"Okay folks, here are your drinks, and I forgot to ask for your name."

Bonnie's scrutinize traveled lividly down her figure. Jealousy burned in her eyes like a furnace.

Damon pressed a hand to his lips, muting a snicker. "My name's, Damon."

"Nice to meet you, Damon. I do hope you'll call me tonight?"

Bonnie jerked her gaze over to Damon; knowing that Crystal knew who she was to him irritated her enormously.

"Crystal, is Damon the first man that you've ever met, or do you desperately throw yourself at all the patrons that come into this restaurant?" She gave the woman a fake, dirty grin, politely clasping her hands on top of the table and crossing her legs.

Damon's and Crystal's mouth flew open. They were floored by Bonnie's crass and brazen remark.

"What would you like to order?" Crystal gave Bonnie a nasty look as she crudely turned the page on her pad.

"I'll have the Hummus & Veggie Wrap." Bonnie arrogantly handed the menu back to the woman.

"I'll come back for it later." She gave a simulated smile to Bonnie and refused to take her menu. She rerouted a flirtatious gaze to Damon. "…and what can I get you handsome?"

"I'll have the roast beef, cheddar, and horseradish sandwich on the tomato basil wrap." He dropped a blushing grin to the table as he nervously traced a finger over the menu.

Crystal blew a kiss at Damon and gave Bonnie a scowl as she turned to walk away. "Bitch," she whispered.

"Okay, that skank ass hoe is not getting a tip," Bonnie snapped with a roll of her neck. Damon dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"…so, I guess it will be a big mistake to ask what you think of her?" he stated mockingly.

"Shut up, and no, I don't like the bitch?" she rudely divulged.

Damon continued to snicker as he folded the paper, containing Crystal's number, and then put it in to his back pocket. Bonnie watched him carefully, her eyes thinned to a pinprick. "…so, you're just going to keep her number?"

"What?" he asked innocently, then flashed her a skeptical squint.

"What woman tries to hit on a man that's accompanied by another woman?"

"I guess-," he lulled. "Women like Crystal."

"Exactly, bitches like that. You know what—I think she's a racist. She saw you with a beautiful black woman, and she didn't like that one bit, so no, I don't think she's the right one for you Damon." She stressed convincingly with a roll of her neck as she sassily crossed her arms over her chest.

He loudly hooted at her remark.

He subsided, giving Bonnie a contemplative observe. "Do you remember Victoria? The girl you and Stefan said I shouldn't have let get away?" he recollected.

"Yeah, I remember. What about her?" she remembered, still peeved.

"She called me a couple of weeks ago. She wants us to get back together."

"No, she is all wrong for you."

"Oh, so now she's all wrong for me. Suddenly everyone is all wrong for me." He gave an incredulous neigh, throwing his hands up in the air. "When I was with Victoria, you kept going on and on about how right the two of us were for each other. Now suddenly no one is right for me."

"I think you need a woman that you can easily click with, and didn't you say she hated that you had your own business because you weren't spending enough time with her? No…just no. You can do so much better," she explained simply, then coolly took a sip of her drink.

Damon gave her an awestruck look. "Maybe you can be my girlfriend?" he kidded, waggling his brow, his eyes carried a mixture of seriousness and barely contained elation.

"Damon." She gleamed; her face turning scarlet. "What about Stefan?" she babbled demurely, giving an inattentive focus to her half full glass. "Oh, shit! Oh, shit!" Recognition dawned on her face. "Stefan is my husband! No, you can't be my boyfriend," she spastically explained, flabbergasted. "Omigod, I can't believe I said that." She grabbed her forehead, still shook.

"Am I interrupting something?" Crystal asked, irritation written on her face.

Bonnie shielded her face, pressing a hand to her temple, embarrassed.

"Uh, uh," Damon stuttered as he clumsily made room on the table for their food.

"Can I get you kind folks anything else?" Crystal inquired sarcastically.

"May…may—may I have some ketchup?" he gave a timid chortle.

Crystal cut her eyes, then furiously left the table. "Cheating bastards," she said under her breathe. Damon rapidly blinked and peeked at her suspiciously, speculating on if he heard her right.

"Omigod she heard us. She probably thinks we're sleeping together."

"No, she doesn't," he tried to reassure her.

Sadness overtook Bonnie's face.

"Bonnie, hey, I was kidding about you being my girlfriend." He reached his hand across the table and took hers. She starred down at his hand, touching hers; her eyes lost in thought as she ran the pad of her thumb over the back of his hand. She suddenly jerked away and then blankly looked out at the restaurant. She put her sights back on him. "I said, "What about Stefan," she recited robotically, then left.

"Bonnie," he called, then looked around at the other customers in the restaurant to make sure they weren't privy to what was happening at their table.

She marched back to the truck and tried to get inside. She kicked the tire once realizing the door was locked. Damon got 'to go' boxes for their food and settled their tab.

He looked desperately around when he didn't immediately see Bonnie standing outside the restaurant. "Bonnie?" he called as he walked speedily to the truck, his eyes fleetingly scanning the parking lot. He arrived at the driver's side of his truck to find her squatting down beside the truck, using it to shade her from the sun.

"Hey," he said winded.

"Hey," she echoed, then went around to the passenger side of the truck. Damon unlocked the doors with a click of the keypad. He sat the food down on the floor of the backseat and then ran around to open the door for Bonnie. She was already inside and putting on her seatbelt. He climbed inside, started the car, and then looked at her. Guilt written all over his face.

"That was a shitty thing I did to you in there. What I did makes me a not so great person, and a shitty brother, and a shitty best friend."

"Don't say that. You're a great brother, a great friend, and a great person." She gave him a tender half smile as she placed a hand on his thigh.

"…and what's so great about me?" he simpered.

"Everything about you is great, it's me that's the problem."

"Stop it right there. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I love being around you. When I'm in a bad mood, you always help me to see the positive. You make me a better person. You are the only person that gets me."

Wonderment washed over her. "…and what I adore about you—you're ambitious. You're romantic. You know how to have fun. You're the perfect gentleman all the time. You're everything I want in a man. I mean, you're everything any woman would want in a man. Omigod," she paused. "You know what, let's just go." Her expression hardened as she turned her attention to the scene outside the window.

Damon on the other hand was transformed. His jaw dropped, and his eyes glinted with pleasure. Her words inflamed him with exhilaration.

.oOo.

Damon's anticipation to be around Bonnie, again, was through the roof. He left work and went to the market, picking up the ingredients to make her a fancy home cooked meal. He was slightly taken-aback when he picked her up to find that she wasn't as enthusiastic to be around him.

Bonnie was quiet the entire drive home. She rode in the passenger seat with her chin, resting in the palm of her hand, keeping her daze outside the car, and not once did she pay him any mind.

"You're pretty quiet. Are you thinking about Stefan?" he asked, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other resting on the armrest, imploring her hand to take his.

"What kind of wife am I?" she stated, her voice cracking.

"You're a great wife, Bonnie." He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes back into his head.

"Great, I'm annoying you." Her demeanor now emulated his.

He gave a chagrined chuckle, and loudly exhaled. "You're not annoying me, but when you say things like that about yourself, then yes, I get annoyed." His jaw set as he grabbed the wheel a little tighter.

"Well, I'm sorry I made you mad."

"I'll get over it." His lips quirked up. He playfully nudged her shoulder. She looked at him, a cute, crooked grin, adorning her face. He winked.

"You are so sexy," she said, mesmerized. He began to wink incessantly; his expression getting sillier each time. She grabbed her abdomen, expressing pure amusement.

They finally arrived home. After stopping by Bonnie's place for more clothes, since she decided to extend her stay.

Bonnie rushed to her room, took a shower, and put on her pajamas. She was surprised to find that Damon had also showered. He was in the kitchen, shirtless, preparing their meal in a clean, new pair of jeans. She stood in the entrance way of the kitchen, her eyes glued to his brilliant and perfect figure. "I see you like to strip down after work, too." She smiled as she stood in the entranceway, laptop in hand.

"Yeah, I hate being in those sweaty and dirty clothes for too long." He grinned amiably. "Would you like a glass of wine while you wait for dinner?"

"Yeah, sure. What are you cooking?" she inquired as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"Steak, roasted Cauliflower with Caper Relish, and a side salad."

"Mm, sounds delicious."

He stopped what he was doing to pour her a glass of wine. She sipped leisurely on her drink as she watched that man move about the kitchen like a professional chief. She licked her lips, feathered her thin fingers over her slender neck, and massaged the table leg with her perfectly manicured toes. Her pupils blazed like torches as she longingly studied his brawny physique.

"Your jeans…," she stopped, then gulped down the remainder of her wine, then hiccupped. She became particularly tickled. She calmed to a definite seriousness as her elongated gawk fixed intensely on him. "Your jeans fit you much differently than Stefan's." She propped her chin between her finger and thumb, giving him a thorough and serious check out through a squinted gaze. All that was missing were glasses to give her ex-ray vision.

"Oh, yeah. How so?" he glanced down at his jeans with an examining eye and mindlessly cupped himself, and her lustful ogle glued in on the area that he tentatively handled with much care.

She swallowed the wetness collecting in her mouth once more. "You have really shapely legs, and—and, and your buttocks fill out the back of those jeans really well. You have a nice shape, and it really—really, really complements the-, the… the jeans," she jabbered unsophisticatedly.

"Cool! Thanks!" He jammed his hands down in to his front pockets and proudly smirked down at his jeans.

"You're welcome gorgeous." She flirted.

"…so, uh, have you heard from my brother?" Damon asked whilst raking the cauliflower over in to a bowl.

"No, not yet, I'm hoping to hear from him soon—hopefully." She narrowed her eyes in thought.

"Well, I'm sure he'll call. He knows how worried we are about him," he responded, his expression preoccupied as he carried dishes of food over to the table. He carefully set an eloquent table with that still brooding look in his eyes.

"The food looks so good." She noticed and admired what he had done.

"I hope it tastes as good as it looks," he gave a pensive chortle, still consumed by what he was doing.

He poured himself a tall glass of the red spirit, then fixed himself a plate. He picked up his napkin, revealing a word puzzle book. He opened the book and start working a puzzle, leaving his full plate untouched.

"I know you're not going to work on a crossword puzzle when I'm sitting across this table from you," she chided.

His fathoming spectacle flickered up to her. He then shook with fits of laughter.

"Oh. My. God. I have this fucking routine, and even when I have company, I can't break this old man humdrum." He smacked his head as the realization of what he had done embedded into his consciousness.

She joined him in laughter.

"Well, now you have me. There's no need to feel lonely anymore?" she said assuredly, the seriousness on her guise convinced him that her words were sure as their eyes locked on like magnets.

"My phone!" She ripped her penetrating gaze from his, startling him from their loving trance, which was brutally interrupted. "IT'S STEFAN!" She screamed.

Damon vaulted from the table, knocking his chair over in the process.

"He wants to skype." She responded as she frantically looked around for her computer.

Stefan's face popped up on the screen a few minutes after she set up her laptop.

"STEFAN!" Damon and Bonnie shouted simultaneously.

"Hey, it's my two-favorite people, under one roof, and half naked. Yay." He was being cynical. They ignored him as they were so happy to be seeing and speaking with him.

"I missed you! What the hell took you so long to contact us?" she said with a mixture of happiness and anger.

"Well, if I could've called you any sooner, you know I would've. Damn," he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Stop being so snarky." Damon teased, with a grin. Bonnie giggled.

"Sorry. It should be no surprise that I'm pissed for having to be here instead of with my family and friends."

"Well, no one told you-,"

"Shut up Damon. I don't want to hear the old, 'I told you so' speech," he snarled.

"All right. All right," Damon consented.

"I love you, Stefan. I've missed you the moment you got out the truck to get on that plane. Here." Bonnie kissed her fingers and pressed them to the camera.

"Oh, baby, I'd be the luckiest man in the universe if that did it for me."

"Really Stefan?" Damon warned, turning red.

"Okay. Okay. I've caught the kiss. It was sweet baby. Mwah!" he blew a kiss back, then pressed the imaginary caught kiss to his cheek, and closed his eyes, his face angelic.

"Okay, now that all the mushy stuff is out of the way. May I ask why you're not at home?" Stefan gave her a skeptical observe.

"I didn't want to be at home alone," she responded somberly.

"You could've stayed with your mom and dad. I'm sure they would've love to have you over."

"What, you don't want her around me?" Damon joshed, somewhat seriously.

"If we're being honest, not really." Stefan gave an apprehensive chuckle.

Damon clenched his jaw. Bonnie lowered her head in shame.

"If you want me to go home or to my parents' house, I will, but I think it's sad that you don't trust me."

"Did I say I didn't fucking trust you?" Stefan glowered.

"Damon, can you make like the wind and blow. I'm trying to have a conversation with my wife. She's my wife!" He raised his voice and enunciated with rage.

Damon shook his head, a sardonic smirk plastered across his face. "Okay, but before I go, I'm glad you made it there safe and sound, and I love you. Lastly, I'm sorry that you're such an asshole," he snarled and then stormed off to his room.

"…and put on a fucking shirt! No one wants to see your pale, no nipple having ass chest!" Stefan yelled, a vein in his neck popped.

"Fuck you, motherfucker!" Damon gave him the finger and held it flagrantly and proudly in the air as he stormed off.

Bonnie jumped at the sound of his door slamming shut.

"Fuck! Fuck! Damon, wait!" Stefan called out for his brother, but he was already gone.

"He's gone, Stefan. Why do you have to be so mean? We've been so worried about you, and this is how you act once you finally get the opportunity to reach out to us."

Stefan sat in silence. His countenance mortified as he mused over her words. "I'm sorry babe. I don't want to act and feel this way, but the regret I felt after I got on the plane for not starting a family with you and for not spending the entire weekend with you, and only you, really ate me up inside. If I don't make it home to you, I don't know what I'll do." His voice wavered through his declaration.

Her lips quivered with sadness as the puddles of distress that had welled up in her eyes cascaded down her cheeks like a waterfall.

Bonnie got to her knees, putting her face closer to the camera. "Stefan, you're going to make it home, and we will be better than before. Now be brave. Be brave for me baby," she cried.

He nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to extinguish the sobs, imploring to escape. He vehemently shook his head, then wiped his tears away. "Look—I've got to go. I can't let these bastards see me like this. I'll never live it down," he sniffled through a chuckle.

She laughed with him.

"When will I hear from you, again?"

"I'd like to call you every day, but it's quite expensive," he advised.

"I don't care how expensive it is. I want to hear from you every day."

"We have bills baby, and plus the lines to call home and skype are pretty damn long." He laughed. "I'll call you once a week. How about that? Will that work?"

She vehemently nodded. The corners of her lips curving up into a loving glimmer. "That's perfect, and you better not miss a beat.

"I won't, and Bonnie, tell Damon that I'm sorry, and that I love him so much. I'm jealous because he gets to have your company, and your touches. I wish that it was me, who was there with you?"

"He knows baby, but I will tell him. The last thing I want is for you two to be angry with each other."

"You don't have to tell me. I heard him." Damon was standing at the end of the hall, brooding, and listening in on their conversation. He came and sat down beside Bonnie. He was now wearing a shirt and a housecoat over his t-shirt. "I love you little bro. You'll be home before you know it. Don't give up, and don't be angry. I'm proud of you for serving our country. I'm proud of you for doing what I was too chicken shit to do." His body shook with a hardy chuckle.

Stefan happily sniveled. "I will. I love you, too. Take care of our girl."

"I will," he smiled.

"Goodbye. I love you guys." Stefan abruptly ended the call, not giving them a chance to say anything more.

The screen went black. Bonnie broke down in tears. Damon scooped her up in his arms and held her tight in his loving and protective hold.

"I can't lose him. I can't," she avowed, still bawling her eyes out.

"You're not going to lose him," he assured, closing his eyes, and pressing her body so close, so close it was as if he were trying to push her inside of him.

"If I could take your pain away, I would," he whispered, his lips brushing as gentle as a quill against her warm skin.

She cried, and they cuddled, caressed, and tenderly kissed each other's forehead and cheeks. Her hands strongly skated over his hard chest. He stroked, gripped, and kneaded her back, the feeling ever so tantalizing and pleasurable trough her thin night shirt.

She squeezed her thighs tighter, feeling an urge that wasn't there when she began crying through the unfathomable pain she felt after disconnecting with her husband.

"I can't lose him," she echoed once more, their eyes locked in a mutual empathizing regard like so many times before. "I love you, Damon." she gave him a chaste kiss, and pulled at a snail's pace away from the osculation.

"I love you more than you'll ever know B," he declared in a low, husky voice, then reciprocated her affections with the same pure kiss, and the same lack of will to pull away. They looked at each other and smiled, and he cuddled her, again.

17