A/N: For those who have patiently/impatiently been waiting for an update. A thousand apologies it's taken so long, but it's here. Enjoy!

It was more than sex, love, and sharing a secret. Life couldn't be compartmentalized and context was always lost to perception. The perception was he couldn't be trusted with anything, that he showed loyalty to those who didn't deserve it. That he was flighty and absentminded; however, his determination to come out with a winning hand bordered on psychotic. His parents had dubbed him reckless whereas his friends canonized him as fearless.

He wasn't so fearless at the moment.

Pain. That was the foremost thought pinging in his head that was bleeding. Right above his left eyebrow and from a laceration along his hairline. He curled up on the rocky pavement, wheezing from having the breath knocked out of him. It took a lot of concentration to run in dress shoes and not bust his ass, break an ankle, or tear a ligament. But he was down, his knees giving out but not from exertion. No. A spell.

The second thought to register in his head was the fact that if he stayed down he would be screwed. There was no science to it. It was just fact. If he got out of this mess he would certainly try to do a good deed or two or ten to make up for the awful choices he made that led him to this point. Naturally there was a ping in the back of his head, a stirring in his guts that he was lying, saying one thing with his fingers crossed behind his back. Making a promise was easy, keeping it was hard. There was knowing better, seeing better, and doing better but old habits were seldom broken. Not on the first try anyway.

"Get up, you prick," the man ordered himself. He scraped his hands across the rough pavement, working his shoulders to push his weight up off the ground. "Oomph," he grunted a moment later when the stem of a heeled boot pressed into his spine forcing him back down.

An amazon stood above him. A Valkyrie. Groaning at the weight and the coldness of the street, he ineffectively wiggled in a poor attempt to free himself. The tip of that heel dug another centimeter into his thoracic bone.

"Here we are once again. I'm sure we've already had this conversation."

"Aye, you crazy bitch! I had nothing to do with-"

"Stop. Talking." The figure applied more pressure making the man squirm and cry out. "You think the rules don't apply to you..."

"I don't..."

"That wasn't a question."

"I have a question," interjected a deep tenor voice.

Lucy Bennett's head snapped toward the sound, her brows narrowed together. It couldn't have been who she suspected, but there was no denying the cadence of that voice. She'd heard it often enough in phone conversations and the handful of times they risked meeting face-to-face. Idly she wondered how he managed to find her, but she could worry about that later. Distracted as she was, she lifted her foot off her quarry's back, straightened her stance, swallowed, and waited for Connor Jordan to reveal himself.

When he did she could see he lost some weight. His clothing was wrinkled and rumpled, and his dark brown eyes looked even more crazed than the last time she saw him. The curse was certainly working him over, because not too long ago he was clean cut, suave, and could carry a civilized conversation. Now anytime he opened his mouth it was just different versions of "Vampires and their sympathizers must die." While she was busy assessing him, the man she had been tracking decided to make a run for it. Scrambling to his feet, he stumbled away. Right when Connor was about to draw that fact into light, Lucy snapped her fingers. Her bounty slammed into an invisible wall, teetered dazedly, and landed on the asphalt with a bruising splat.

"Jordan," Lucy said and wiggled her fingers feeling she would have to throw magic at him in case this wasn't a friendly checking in, which she knew it wasn't. "Good to see you've escaped the Mikaelsons."

"Yeah that is good, right?" he intoned sarcastically. "Unfortunately I've been benched from taking further action, however, I don't exactly agree with the directive that was given. Our agreement...it's not over."

"I'm afraid it is. The plan was botched from the start and...my cover came close to being blown. I suspect the Salvatores are suspicious of my timing, and certain events that have happened in these last few weeks. The Mikaelsons as well. The element of surprise is no longer on our side. It won't take long for them to put two and two together, and I don't plan to make it easy for them to solve the equation and try to find me."

"So that's why you're casing down a bounty? Need the money to get out of the country? I already told you if you come to the org's side they'd take care of you."

Lucy planted one hand on her hip and scoffed, "I have no interest in being their witch-for-hire. That org also feeds into the The Strix and I know what they do to witches. Sorry, but my ancestors fought to get out of slavery. I'm not looking to sign up for it. You still have your life, Jordan. Get out now while you still have a chance." She turned to leave but the sound of an automatic weapon cocking into place halted her steps. She glared at him over her shoulder.

Connor did his best to minimize the involuntary muscle spasms that had started plaguing him a few hours ago. Every one of his muscles was coiled with the need to hunt, to seize, to terminate, to kill. His mouth was parched but no matter how much water he drank, thirst intensified. His stomach growled and two quarter pounder meals later and the ache of hunger was still there. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, and locked every one of his joints into place.

"I knew getting into this meant my chances of survival would be slashed down to less than half," Connor shrugged while the hand that held the gun became steadier. He gave Lucy a measured perusal before locking gazes with her once more. It was a shame she was so beautiful because the bullet he was prepared to put in her head would no doubt mess that up. There was a reason he preferred working alone. Working with others brought about complications, not necessarily emotions-other than rage and impatience-but the probability of being at odds, loggerheads, a stalemate increased, and any impediment to his directive was unacceptable. The vampires were not dead. So as far as Connor was concerned, the job wasn't finished. There was no letting this go and running off into the sunset to live a fabled peaceful and quiet life. No. He forfeited that when he became a hunter. "We have a deal, witch. You either honor it or prepare yourself to meet your maker."

Lucy's nostrils flared but she maintained her silence.

Connor's grip on the gun tightened to the point of pain. "You incapacitate the Originals so I can pick them off to guarantee that every single vampire on this planet dies. Or...I pay your delectable little cousin a visit. I do wonder what her screams would sound like. How much pain she can withstand before passing out where anything can happen to her while she's unconscious."

Inwardly, Lucy bristled at the images that popped up in her mind. "You sick fuck. You go near her..."

"Do we have a deal? Yes or no?" Connor's smile was mad and cunning. "Time's ticking."

Damon's butt was tingling. It only took a second for him to realize it was his phone vibrating. Digging it out of his back pocket, he frowned at the unfamiliar number, thought about ignoring it, but answered, "Who is this?"

"Hey, turd, what it do?"

"Stefan?!"

Bonnie and Damon looked at one another in surprise.

"No, it's Peter Parker. Yes, it's me."

"Ass," Damon couldn't help but chuckle lowly and in relief. "Where are you?"

"I was driving hell for leather with a foxy blonde I've been trying not to eat for the last four hours. Currently I'm stopped at a backwoods gas station talking to you on the last payphone known to man. Where are you?"

"On my way to come to your rescue. You're not helping me look heroic in front of my girlfriend."

"She's a witch. Your days of being a hero are a wrap. Make her come. She'll forgive you."

Damon rolled his eyes while avoiding Bonnie's. "I think I liked you better when you were a brooding and self-martyring little shit."

"That's a lie."

Damon realized at the end of the day what he said was in fact, a lie. He would always prefer this version of Stefan, able to crack and take a joke and had a handle on his blood issues, to the one who was invariably suspicious of him and his motives, and ready to lecture at the drop of a dime. He got back into the matter at hand. "Do you know where you are?"

"In a section of West Virginia I'll have to pretend I don't believe non-whites deserves rights in order to make it out alive."

"What's he saying?" Bonnie asked impatiently amid the sound of Damon's exasperated laughter. He shook his head.

"Stay where you are and text me the address, little brother. Can you manage to stay out of trouble until we reach you?"

"I'll try my best."

"Were you followed?"

"I don't think so."

"All right. Just remain as vigilant as you can. We'll be there soon," Damon hung up.

Five hours later or maybe it was a hundred and forty-eight years in the making, in any case history was being made. Two sons pitted against one another under a draconian, bigoted patriarch; two brothers who competed, threatened, maimed, undermined, and emotionally destroyed one another for love. Two men that still had their differences with one another, but had the others back sometimes willingly and other times grudgingly, did something Bonnie didn't believe she'd get to see before she became old and gray. She got to see pieces of Damon and Stefan's antagonistic past fade with this one act.

A hug.

A hug of pure brotherly affection.

Damon had bounded out of the car at the same time Stefan pushed away from the late model sedan he used to support his weight. There was an exchange of wise cracks and before either of them were seemingly aware of what they were doing, their arms were wrapping around the other. The elder gave the younger a few hearty slaps on the back and shoulder when they broke apart. The younger looked rueful and slightly aloof or did his best to present an aloof veneer, though it was plain to see he needed the physical contact from his sibling. Bonnie hung back not wanting to intrude despite being equally happy and relieved Stefan was no worse for wear.

Naturally that would be the second Stefan peeked at her over Damon's shoulder and waved her over. They hugged as well and, just to mess with his brother, Stefan buried his face in Bonnie's neck and told her in a dulcet tone she smelled good.

"Hey, knock it off," Damon fussed.

Snickering, Stefan let her go and to both his brother's and Bonnie's astonishment stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it up.

His grimace becoming a scowl, Damon demanded, "Why are you smoking?"

"They were in this baby," he tapped the car he stole with affection. "I realized I haven't had one since the 40s when they were practically giving them away to soldiers. Plus," he motioned with his head toward the trunk. "I needed a distraction from eating our prisoner."

Damon knocked on said trunk and heard the agent's frantic and muffled pleas for help.

"I have her trussed up like a turkey and under threat if she tries anything I'll turn her. I gave her my blood so she knows I'm not bluffing."

"The other one?" Damon said alluding to Meredith Fell.

"Dead," Stefan's tone was flat and emotionless.

"What are you going to do with the agent? You tried holding her captive once and you saw how that ended," said Bonnie as she covertly studied their surroundings gauging to see if anyone was taking an interest in them. They drew a couple of double takes.

"Better question to ask," Damon began, "is why are you keeping her alive, period? She knows too much."

Stefan stubbed out the cigarette with his boot, "Think five steps ahead, please. If she disappears how many more will come to look for her? And...don't you want to know where she was taking me, and what she had in store for me and who knows how many other vampires?"

Conceding his little brother had a point, Damon dropped it. "All right. Follow me to a secluded spot so we can transfer her to my car and we can dump this one. No doubt it's been reported stolen. Bonnie, can you put our little Mata Hari to sleep?"

Holding her hand above the closed trunk, Bonnie's lips moved forming the tongue twisting Latin it would take to incapacitate a woman in her late twenties, early thirties. Seconds later, they heard the soft thud of Sarah's head coming into contact with the floor of the trunk and her labored breathing.

"Let's move," Damon headed for the driver's seat of his car with Bonnie jumping into the passenger seat whereas Stefan slid behind the wheel of the stolen car.

The trio headed to as secluded an area as they could find. Stefan transferred Sarah's body into the trunk of the Camaro, and eased into the backseat. He winked at Bonnie who pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Damon peeled off heading east back to Mystic Falls.

"Walk us through everything that happened to you. What do you remember?" Bonnie got down to business.

Stefan filled them in on what he remembered and the aftermath of when he regained consciousness. He was also filled in on what happened during his brief stint as a trafficked person. The conversation came back around to the agent and what came next.

"How are we going to get her to talk? Torture?" Stefan inquired.

Damon leered, "You know its my preferred method to skin a cat."

"Uh, no," Bonnie vetoed. "There is a less bloody way to get what we need from her."

"I know, compulsion," Stefan practically yawned. His vampire gift was a godsend at times. At the same time, and based on a person's will it could sap his energy especially if he applied it too often, and went a long time between feedings. "We could do that, however, it might be best if you led the interrogation."

"Me?" Bonnie touched her chest.

"Yes. Don't tell me you don't want to see what you might be able to get out of her, to have the chance to travel through her mind to gleam the absolute truth. I know we make compulsion look easy, but tramping someone's free will, it's not a simple science. There are other factors that play into it. Our looks, the sound of our voice, it makes humans susceptible because in a sense they've already let their guard down. They want something from us, and we put the suggestion in their mind they can get it if they comply."

"Not to mention there are some humans who can deflect compulsion without the use of vervain. Like Bill Forbes. Man had a steel enforced concrete wall for a brain."

You learn something new everyday, Bonnie mused. Those same musings drifted to the time she searched for the moonstone in Mason Lockwood's mind, and the truth behind what the Martins had in store for Elena when she drugged Luca. The first incident she had been grabbed and if Damon hadn't been there who knew what might have happened. The second time with Luca, things had gone smoothly and according to plan, however, Jonas Martin retaliated and stole her powers. True he had only done so because his son had been burned alive but...Bonnie got off that train of thought because she was riding next to the man who killed the warlock's son. The only defense Damon had, he hadn't known (and she knew he wouldn't have and probably still didn't care) it had been Luca, and he did it to stop the young warlock from waking Elijah. Tallying up the score, the minds she ever infiltrated belonged to supernaturals, never to anyone who was a hundred percent human.

"There's always a risk," she absently picked at the rip in her jeans. "I could go too deep, pry too hard, and can accidentally put her in a catatonic state."

"That's a risk for us, too," Damon exposed. "The difference between us is you'd try not to cause damage. If we did, well it's collateral damage."

Bonnie mulled that over. She might not care for the duplicitous agent and wanted her out of the picture, it didn't mean she wanted to cause her any mental damage, anguish, or alter who she was fundamentally simply because she needed information. Simply put, Bonnie wanted no one's blood on her hands. If she left it up to the Salvatores it would almost be a guarantee. "I'll do it. I'll need some special ingredients though."

"Whatever you need, it's yours. I'll make sure of it," Damon squeezed her hand. Bonnie squeezed his in return, beaming at him.

Stefan volleyed between the two of them. "Concentrate on driving, brother. I've already been in one accident today." His stomach growled. "I need some blood."

"You'll eat soon enough." Damon pressed harder on the gas.

Quiet lulled for about half an hour before it was interrupted with a ringing smartphone. This time it was Bonnie receiving a call. A smile touched her lips when she saw who it was. "Hey, Nero."

"Bonnie, I'm so glad to hear your voice. I was getting worried. You hadn't called and it's been some hours," the vampires heard.

Stefan eyeballed Damon in the rearview mirror and mouthed, "Who the hell is Nero?"

"Long story," Damon said out loud and went right back to eavesdropping.

"Yeah, we're on our way back...We were successful in locating the package," she giggled a little. "Thank you so much for your help. It would have taken a lot longer without your gift."

Stefan listened aptly with interest. His grin increased the more he saw the tick in his brother's jaw, hammer. "The plot thickens."

"Yeah, we can do that...okay. See you at school. Bye." Bonnie returned her phone to her pocket and felt the weight of tension in the car. Staring at her boyfriend and then glancing at his brother, she shrugged, "What?"

"I don't know, BonBon," Stefan slid forward to wrap his arm around the back of Bonnie's seat, "are you about to become the point of a triangle?"

"NO!"

Laughing, Stefan fell back against the seat. "I guess I'll have to stay tuned, won't I?"

With deft fingers she fastened her watch on her wrist and then looked around for her earrings. She spotted one on the floor next to his shoe and the other...she flipped back the rumpled duvet, checked under the pillows, and ah-it was next to the leg of the armoire. How in the world did it end up there, she pondered and put it on.

At that time the bathroom door flew open and her heart jumped. The scent of hotel soap clouded her lungs, and even with the bed between herself and the bathroom, she could feel the heat of the shower touch her skin. Out of her peripheral she saw him lean his tall frame into the doorjamb, towel slung enticingly low on his hips. He might be middle-aged like her, but he took impeccable care of himself. His belly hadn't gone completely soft with age and a love of carbs, but his musculature was more of a hint than bold definition. What she loved and missed most, besides the obvious, were his hands. Her cheeks warmed just thinking about what he could do with his calloused palms and ten fingers.

"Leaving me so soon?"

She glanced at him knowing if she stared any longer she'd be coaxed into his arms for the fourth time tonight. He was insatiable even more so when he spent longer-than-usual time away from home. It's what she loved and hated about their arrangement. He was never satisfied, could never get enough, and she went back on her principles leading to a disconcerting discovery that she liked to pretend wasn't true: she had more fun as a mistress than a wife. At one point, she'd been both.

"I would stay but I have a meeting with the vice president of the council, and I've already postponed it twice before. I can't cancel again." She finally looked at him, into a pair of dark brown eyes that bespoke of his wit and intelligence, and a mouth that could barter deals and bring endless pleasure.

"I had hoped for a better reunion. I've been gone for almost a year, Carol."

Carol Lockwood tensed. She never would have thought she'd find herself embroiled in a decade's long affair with the father of one of her son's...well she couldn't say her son and her lover's daughter were friends. But they knew each other, hung in the same circles. With him back, that could complicate things. "That was a personal choice," she continued dressing.

Daniel Bennett studied Carol as she shimmied into her pantyhose, and clipped her pearls around her neck. Her hair was still mussed, lipstick all kissed off; a love bite was forming right above her left breast. Just staring at her was having a profound effect on him. However, her cool and distant demeanor was irritating him. Daniel had no delusions about what this was and what they meant, but the fact he had been gone for almost a year he expected a far warmer homecoming. Yeah, she screamed his name, clawed his back, but there was a hint of artifice to their coupling. Maybe she was getting over it. Maybe she found someone else. It wouldn't matter either way.

"What about getting together for dinner? We have a lot to catch up on," Daniel scratched his bicep.

"I'll have to check my schedule, but I should be free. I can make reservations at our usual spot. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect. I know I didn't ask this earlier, but how have you been? I'm getting caught up on what I've missed, the latest developments..."

Clearing her throat, Carol answered briskly, "You know how I am. Nothing can keep me down for long. And as far as the town, well that's self-explanatory. You've been getting my reports."

"They stopped about three months ago. What's happened since then?"

"Developments...have you seen my...ah there it is." She scooped up her blouse.

Seeing she was being purposely evasive, Daniel dropped the congenial act. He crossed the soft cream carpet toward her, cupped her cheek, and stared into her big blue eyes. Carol held her breath, Daniel could tell. So he drew the moment out, let her stew and jump to conclusions. Finally he said, "I know you've been playing something's close to the vest. I understand, but I promise you I will get to the bottom of how out of control things have been. Until then, we have our parts to play. You make sure you continue to play yours...until I say stop."

Swallowing thickly, the message was clear. Carol stepped away and finished dressing. When she was, she kissed Daniel on the cheek, but the call of her name prevented her from making a clean getaway. "Yes?"

"Who's the VP of the council these days?"

"August Young."

"And the president?"

Reluctantly, Carol answered, "Damon Salvatore."

"Hmm."

That hmm sounded ominous to Carol but she didn't question it. Quietly she left the hotel room. She had an hour drive ahead of her, and a meeting that started in forty-five minutes.

It was late evening by the time they made it to the boardinghouse. Stefan and Damon secured the still sleeping agent in one of the unused rooms as repairs to the cellar door needed to be made. Once squaring and securing her was finished, Stefan raced upstairs to shower and head off to see Keiko to put her worries at ease. He was gone less than an hour later, having gorged on two bags of blood, telling them not to wait up for him.

Alone, Bonnie and Damon stuffed themselves with pizza, showered, and promptly fell into an exhaustive sleep. When Damon woke up with the sun beaming right into his retina, Bonnie was humming and putting on her makeup. Confusion hit him until his memory kicked in and he recalled the last twenty-four hours.

"Where.." he cleared the frog out of his throat, "where are you going?"

"School."

He grumbled an incoherent complaint and rolled over on his stomach, but he was up a minute later, standing behind his girlfriend at the sink. "You trust to leave me here by myself with the agent?"

Brow arching, Bonnie met his gaze in the mirror. "You plan to play with her like she's a Barbie doll?"

"The old me would've. I would've dressed her up and put her in a ton of compromising positions. The new me...I'll make sure she stays hydrated at the least."

"I'm happy to hear that. Here," she handed him a piece of paper. "It's a list of things I'll need for the spell. The sooner we can learn what she knows the quicker we can get her out here."

Damon glossed over the list. "Fine. I'll take Stefan with me to keep him out of trouble."

"Look at you," Bonnie crooned playfully. "Worried about your brother being abducted again, and doing what you can to keep tabs on him. You're growing."

"Negative. I'm worried about leaving him unattended with the enemy. He's been in control so far and I rather not test his restraint," Damon grabbed his toothbrush and took care of his dental hygiene.

"Un-hun."

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe that's part of the reason. You don't have to say it, but I get the feeling you're concerned about his safety since we're not sure if whoever Meredith and Sarah were working with or for wanted him specifically, and if they're also responsible for whatever it was that attacked you, Caroline, and the Originals. A lot's going on where we don't know who's behind it and why. But we're going to find out."

"We always do."

"Exactly."

"All right...you're right. I am worried about the little egghead. Anytime he goes missing he comes back messed up."

"I don't think too much damage has been done to Stefan this time around. He was gone for less than twenty-four hours."

"I know that but...I feel like I need to monitor him just in case."

Bonnie nodded in agreement. "While you're monitoring your brother, who's going to make sure the agent doesn't try and escape? I spelled the room shut, but..."

"Yeah, I'll call Alaric. Dammit, forgot. He's locked up himself and I need to figure out a way to break him out of jail. The fucking problems just keep piling up."

Nibbling a corner of her lip Bonnie was prepared to throw out a suggestion she knew Damon would have a major problem with, yet seeing how their choices were limited... "We could always ask Elijah or Kol."

"Nope. Not gonna happen. Kol would play a game with her and she'd end up dead before we'd learn anything. Elijah, well I guess it's a good thing she's blonde and doesn't look like a certain Petrova. There's no risk of him accidentally falling in love with her, but you never know with that guy. She should be fine by herself for a few hours. I'd ask Liz but that would put her badge at risk."

"Rebekah?"

Damon groaned, "Last resort."

Taking a step Damon rested his butt against the lip of the sink, crossed his arms. He was content to watch Bonnie primp and couldn't resist kissing her cheek, although the appetite to kiss her in other places was rising as well.

Bonnie certainly felt the subliminal message and diligently tried to disregard it. She had missed school yesterday on top of all the days she missed while in a coma. So as much as she'd love to shirk her academic responsibilities, they couldn't be put off.

Damon wasn't going to make that easy though.

"You look good, babe. I like that skirt."

"Thank you," Bonnie swayed her hips a little making her short black pleated skirt billow. Paired with suede over-the-knee boots, and a flowy top she looked like a busty anime character. Her look was certainly planting ideas in Damon's head.

"C'mere and let me put my hand up it."

"Damon."

He smirked.

"I'll be home right after school," Bonnie pecked his lips. "Be good."

She was thwarted from leaving. Her arm, then wrist was captured and she was pulled back to stand between Damon's legs. His hands circled her waist before lowering and contouring to the shape of her perky ass. Bonnie felt the heat of him at the apex of his thighs and his rigid tumescence poking her. Wrapping her arms around Damon's bare shoulders, their gazes were locked, pupils dilating. Bonnie's breathing changed, grew deeper, slower, almost meditative.

"Thank you," Damon whispered.

"You're...welcome?" she wrinkled her nose in bemusement. "What are you thanking me for?"

"I'm thanking you for everything you did yesterday. I couldn't let another hour pass without me showing my gratitude to the most amazing woman I know."

Blushing, Bonnie angled her head and slanted her mouth over Damon's, slotting their lips together just right. Adding pressure, opening her mouth to accept his tongue, carding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, she made their kiss last until breath was necessary. She broke the kiss, slowly, achingly sweetly.

Damon rose to his full height, his hands coming to rest on her waist once more. Bonnie felt herself being pushed backwards out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

"I have school."

"And I haven't finished properly thanking you."

"I was happy with words."

"I'm sure."

"Damon..." Bonnie was silenced when the person in question picked her up and put her on the bed. "I seriously have to go."

Just as he said, Damon put his hands up her skirt. To pull her panties off. "Wrong again, Bennett." He peeled her undies down her thighs, down her legs, and worked them off one boot at a time. Placing her left leg on his shoulder, he leaned forward, his head lowering. "You seriously have to come."

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I honestly forgot where I was going to go with this story, but I remembered while trying to work on other ongoing projects. If you're wondering why I haven't been updating so much lately, it's because I lost access to Word on my laptop, and some other issues going on. I will probably update this again shortly since I have a bulk of the next chapter already written, just a matter of configuring things. So bear with me. I haven't abandoned fanfic just yet. But again, thanks for reading, and please leave a thought behind :-)

P.S. Just for reference, I'm not channeling the actor who played Bonnie's dad on the show for this fic, since I started this way before we learned he actually existed. For this little fic, I'm channeling the actor Mike Colter who played Luke Cage in the Netflix series ;)