A/N: Wanted to do something a little different. Enjoy!

A Life In The Day

Bonnie felt him outside.

She stood in the moonlit foyer and watched the door. She listened to the wind rushing through the trees, rattling the house. Weird shapes trembled and shook in the shadows. She waited for the feeling to subside, to be released from the dream that led her from her bed to standing in the dark, in the cold, staring at the front door, but it was stubborn and only tightened its hold.

She felt him outside the door, waiting. She felt him inhale, like he once did against her neck, her chest, her stomach, the inside of her thighs. She felt his fingertips touch the grain of the door, like when he brushed them over her clavicle, down her back, along her side.

Sweat tickled the small of her back. It wasn't a dream.

Bonnie opened the door. He stood there, in half shadows. She expected him closer, close enough to reach and pull inside but he was exactly beyond her reach.

"I thought we agreed," she said.

The blueness of his eyes seemed to leech away the longer he looked at her. Bonnie shifted. She could never stay long under that heat lamp look.

"I never agreed to anything," he said.

"Your acceptance was implied when you stood there and said nothing."

"I'm standing here now. What does that tell you?"

"That you're late," Bonnie said, irritated.

He only smiled, but it wasn't his normal smile, it wasn't easy, it wasn't nice or cruel or mocking. It was a smile that did things to her. It was a smile that knew things about her, that told her things she didn't know, reminded her of things she forgot.

Truths started fleeing her mind, leaving her with impulse. She wanted him, yes, that was the only true thing left. She wanted to let go of the door and step out into the warm darkness and touch him. She wanted to breathe him in and feel his hands all over. She wanted to be wedged against the wall, she wanted to fall to the ground with the umbrella holder and the fern and the mail basket and taste if he had blood or brandy or both for dinner. She wanted the rug burn and a bruise from the stair and tousled sheets and slick skin. She wanted him more now than when she never had him, even more than when she discovered how much he liked a good nip and where.

Bonnie looked away, but her mind continued to empty save for all those wants. She closed her eyes. In the back of her head this display disgusted her. Was this all it really took, a strange smile under livid blue eyes on a warm, moonlit night, to unravel her completely? Did this thing between them trump all the promises she made to herself?

Bonnie cracked open an eye. He stared at her. Impatience made his jaw tick. Or was it the same kind of want? Anger maybe, at her indecision? Anxiety? His jaw ticked again, his eyes wouldn't let up. She had to do something or else ruin everything.

"Fine," she said.

She left the doorway and kissed him. It was hard and breathless and desperate. She poured everything into it, every embrace they might have had, every slow encounter, every angry fuck, every single pleasurably painful moment that could have existed between them she gave to his mouth, she traced along his jawline, she combed through his hair and ran down his back. She gave it all away in a kiss that exposed every nerve ending.

And then she stopped. She pressed her hand to his mouth and the other to his heart. She saw through the open door to the foyer, the darkened staircase. She was up against a post beam, his hips pressed into hers, and if she didn't tap into some magic to numb herself, she wouldn't have had the fortitude to stop.

Bonnie gazed into his eyes. He frowned. His hand came up to circle her wrist but she shook her head.

"Listen to me. I need you to listen to me."

He sighed, but dropped his hand.

"I like you. I like your face and your voice and your walk and those ugly faces you make when someone does something you don't agree with or you do agree with, but is inconvenient to you. I like you despite the horrible things you've done. I like you in spite of myself. And I want you," Bonnie said, dropping her voice, "I can't deny that. And it would be so good, me and you, but then the sun rises and the weekend ends and everything is right where we left it."

"Nothing has changed, Damon. No matter what happens, we'll always come close, but not close enough. And that's not what I want. I want," Bonnie sighed, "I want more. I want everything."

She lifted her hands away. They stared at each other for a long time before Damon finally expelled a breath and leaned away. Air rushed between them, cooling their bodies. Bonnie watched him but he closed off his face. His only remaining tell was the hand resting on one hip, black fabric twisted in his fingers.

"What about what I want?"

Bonnie rested her head against the beam. "I cost too much."

"But I don't."

"Exactly. You don't."

Damon shook his head. The smile this time was easy to read.

"I think you might have edged out Katherine for the Ultimate Mindfuck Award," he said.

Bonnie shrugged. "Considering your penchant for doppelgangers, I think I place a distant third."

She held his glare. His words rang in her ear. She'll always exist between us. I can't shake her. You won't let me.

Damon blinked first. He started to speak but then pressed his lips together and left the porch.

Bonnie didn't turn. She stared at the open door as his car rumbled down the road. It stopped ten seconds longer than necessary at the Stop sign. If she looked, he would come back. There was no magic in the world that would prevent her from going with him. It was so simple a fact that it disturbed her. She didn't know if simple meant right.

She pushed off the beam and walked into the house. After a moment, she shut the door and leaned against it. Just breathe, Bonnie told herself, just breathe through it. It was only a moment. Moments don't last forever. She wiped her eyes, shook herself hard, and climbed the stairs to the bedroom.

The dark turned to cool blue by the time she pulled the covers up. She watched the sun begin its ascent, which reminded her of that one time when they had that conversation. Her head had lain on his chest and she listened to his voice echo through his flesh. He smelled of pine and woodsmoke, and he tasted of salt.

Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. God, this wasn't forever, right? She couldn't just purge this, put in a box, and burn it?

Arms came around her, hooking under her chest and over her hips. Bonnie relaxed into the hold. Kai was warm and soft from sleep. His lips were dry as he kissed her ear.

"You're up too early. Bad dream?"

Bonnie weighed the benefits of telling him now rather than later. He would understand, sure, but his reactions varied. Better to get it over with.

"Damon came by. We talked."

He pressed his nose into her neck. "You guys only argue or makeup. So which was it?"

Bonnie squinted. "Uh...more of the latter."

"Well," Kai said after awhile, "no wonder you're all hot and bothered."

"You're being eerily calm," Bonnie said. She turned in his arms to look at him. He had his eyes closed.

"What would you like me to do? Go postal? Start leaving angry voicemails?"

"I don't know. It makes me think that maybe you're still asleep or something and that later, when you realize we have no coffee, you're going to explode and start plotting to kill people."

Kai patted her head with a smile. "I love it how well you know me. It's refreshing."

"But really, it doesn't bother you? Damon was here. On the porch. I kissed him. We kissed. This is big news. Huge."

"It is huge news. Massive. Earth-shattering," he opened his eyes and looked at her with a genuine smile. "You kissed him and told me about it."

Bonnie frowned. "So?"

"So," Kai rolled on top of her, ignoring the little 'oof' she emitted. "You like me more than you like him," he said.

Bonnie squirmed. "No. I tolerate you more."

"No," he kissed her cheek, "you like me more. You might even really like me." He scrunched his nose. "Oh my God, you might l-o-v-e me."

"Calm down. L-o-v-e is a few thousand miles away."

"Last week you said a few hundred thousand." Kai winked at her. "Face it, babe. You are in deep."

Bonnie flipped them over. "Before you get all excited, there's still an issue."

"I know. The lack of coffee."

"No. Damon."

Bonnie stared down at his face. Kai squinted at the ceiling. He already solved the issue, then. She sighed and folded her hands under her chin, digging her elbows into his chest. He winced.

"See, this is why I can't muster up the energy to love you. You are so damn annoying."

"I can't help being quick." He pulled her up so that her elbows rested on his shoulders. "I'll ask, you answer. Right off the top of your head."

Bonnie nodded, serious. "Okay, shoot."

"What does Damon want?"

"Love."

"Who loves him more than anyone?"

"Stefan."

Kai paused. "I should rephrase the question. Who is the person, other than Stefan, that is 'Addicted to Love' in love with Damon?"

"Oh, Elena."

"Does he love her?"

"Epically."

"What happened to change that epic love?"

"We died, got stuck in Groundhog 1994, and Elena flossed all the fluffy Damon bits from her memory."

"Who did that again?"

"Alaric. When he was an Original." He looked at her, confused. "Vampire. An Original vampire. They're like," Bonnie grasped for a point of reference, "like Super Saiyan Vampires."

"Ah," Kai nodded, "too cool. So an Original vampire wiped Romeo and left Iago. But what about now?"

"Alaric can't de-compel her because he's human, but Elena is slowly falling in love with Damon. Slowly," Bonnie said, drawing out the word.

"And that's bad because?"

"Because Damon is impatient. And he's bored. And I'm something new and not-so shiny and I look like the real thing and I feel like the real thing, but I'm not."

"So what does Damon want?"

Bonnie stared at him. "The real thing."

"And who is -"

"Elena," Bonnie interrupted, getting up. "He wants Elena. The Elena before. But is it possible?" She looked at him but she didn't see him. Her mind whirled through a catalogue of incantations, remedies, curses. Not that one, no, no, maybe, no, closer, no, no, no.

He snapped his fingers. "Bonnie, Kai to Bonnie, come in."

She grabbed his hand to stop from waving. "It's there but I only found one that may work. I can get it smoothed out in a day."

"No need," Kai sat up and took her hands. "I know a spell. But it's a two-person carry."

Bonnie watched him carefully. They never shared power. He didn't need to leech anymore but that didn't stop the thirst. She saw it whenever they met another witch and a quick cut of the eye effectively curtailed him but this was, of course, different. This was, Bonnie realized, a trust exercise.

"How long have you been planning this? she asked.

"A week. Or two." At her look Kai amended it to three. "But we have to do this at some point. You're a Bennett, I'm a Gemini, we swap fluids, why not this?"

"Because you have a history of doing really bad things to people who have magic."

"I know what I've done," he said, frustrated, "but I'm doing things differently now. And we can't have a relationship if you can't trust me to share something this fundamental to who we are."

When she didn't say anything he added, "Let the record reflect that I have zero confidence in winning over you in any sort of witch battle."

The ghost of a grin twitched her lips. "As long as you know."

She held his hands and closed her eyes. The spell flowed between them. It was complex, had a few redundant words of power, but it was a strong restorative, as were all incantations of the kind. Bonnie was impressed, and a little envious. Kai had a natural proficiency for magic whereas she had to work harder, study longer. Not to be outdone completely, she trimmed the spell and evened out the flow of power.

Kai opened an eye. "Did you just red pen my spell?"

"Lovingly," Bonnie replied. She inhaled deep and cleared her mind of everything but the words.

She expected pain but there was none. Her stomach lurched, like on a rollercoaster. She smelled electricity and her skin tingled. The words evaporated in a wave of disorientation, but she focused on the feel of his hands, dry and hot, and reformed them. There was a moment of sharp pain, then his power receded, and she floated in hers for a few seconds before exhaling and opening her eyes.

Kai appeared paler than usual, but he pinched her cheek and cooed at her like a total asshole so Bonnie knew he was fine.

"We forgot to put some sort of alert on it, to see if it worked," Bonnie said when he finished.

"Chatty Cathy is the only alert you need."

"I really wish you'd stop calling her that."

"I can be in the bathroom and still hear her yapping over the phone. Like, why won't Stefan do this one thing for me? Gah," Kai said. He had Caroline down to the frown and head shake.

Bonnie laughed. Kai drew her in and she lay against him, content. He twined his hand in hers. Something about the way he stroked her thumb told her he was being introspective.

"What is it?"

"This is the first time I've ever done something remotely nice for someone I actively want to kill." He pressed her knuckles to his mouth. "I wonder if it worked."

Bonnie shrugged. "Like you said, Chatty Cathy will alert us." She hoped Caroline would call. If it didn't work, there was nothing left to do but duck.

Damon set down a mug of tea in front of Elena. He dipped a teaspoon in honey and drizzled it into the cup, gave it a quick swirl, and handed her the spoon.

"You remembered," she said. She popped the spoon in her mouth.

"It's a detail that's hard to forget." He sat before his cup of coffee. The bowl of sugar cubes sat on her side.

"Sugar, sugar?" Damon asked. He held out his cup.

Elena picked up three sugar cubes and plopped them in. Damon returned her grin but didn't drink the coffee. She didn't notice the strain in his eyes, the slight deflation of his shoulders. Elena distracted was still more perceptive than the average human. Or maybe it was the Elena in love, infatuated, consumed who read him in a glance.

Damon studied her as she talked about her day. Make new memories. He must have been high off hope or something. He subverted all of her renewed low expectations of him by being himself, now, after all the 'being evil' shit and existential crises and concession speeches. He romanced her because he knew her, because every little thing she gave to him, every inch of herself she allowed him to see, he committed to perfect memory. He loved her because he had to fight for it. He loved her because falling in love with Elena was not easy. It was a torturous process of introspection and silences and erasing the need to humanity switches. It took time and context for him to be the man Elena loved so completely, his absence drove her to insanity. Love like that only happened once between two people. Love like that, once lost, was irrevocable.

"Damon? Are you okay?"

He blinked. Her forehead creased with worry. "I'm fine," he assured her, "no worries. Continue."

She looked skeptical but picked up where she left off. Damon maintained eye contact, nodded when he was supposed to, exclaimed in muted outrage when necessary, while thinking how utterly fucked up it was that he was in love with pre-neural cleanse Elena but also falling for post-Other Side Bonnie.

He watched Elena talk. Her eyes were bright, her smile the same cute smile, her mannerisms the same mannerisms. She moved and her hair shimmered in the afternoon light just like all the other times. Her voice had the same intonation, same melody, it even made him want to listen to her forever, like it used to. For all intents and purposes, Elena was Elena. But the more he looked at her, the more his chest burned, the more hopeless he felt.

The realization finally caught up to him. The Elena that fell in love with him, that blew his mind and broke his heart and managed to build him into a better man, was gone. He didn't want to start over. He wanted her back.

Damon shifted in his seat. And then there was Bonnie.

For the first time in decades, he had no idea what to do. She struck him deaf, dumb, and blind. He didn't know what to do, and it felt...good. Freeing. Everything seemed possible, even the most far-fetched, imbecilic, fantastical ideas. He had room to move and she did that for him. She cleared the world away.

He looked down at the cold coffee. He could sit here and play this out or he could move and ruin everything. Elena toyed with the handle of her mug, the curl of her ponytail shone a glossy brown against her arm. Forever or a moment?

Fuck it.

The doorbell rang. Bonnie continued to chisel out the answer to a hellish physics problem. The door bell rang again, this time ten seconds longer.

Bonnie looked up from her notebook. "Sam! The door!"

"I'm in the middle of a glamour!"

"And I'm in the middle of an exam review!"

"Your review will still be there, but will my nose?"

Loud, splintering knocks made Bonnie grip her pencil like a knife and stalk from the study to the door.

"If it's one of your boyfriends, I'm going to make a nose sprout from your chin,"Bonnie yelled.

"What?" Bonnie asked as she yanked open the door.

Elena stood on the porch, hair in an unraveling bun, eyes red, mouth in a straight line.

"Elena, what happened?" Bonnie asked. She reached to draw her inside but Elena shoved her away.

"Elena -"

"A lot of shit has happened, Bonnie." Elena wiped her face. "My memories of Damon are back."

"Okay," Bonnie was at a loss, "that's good, right? That's what you wanted."

"Yes. It was what I wanted. And now I want answers."

Bonnie shook her head. "I have no idea -"

"You and Damon. Sleeping together," Elena leaned close, "somehow, I don't remember that ever being a possibility."

Bonnie froze. She had a second to deny it, but what was the use? Only three people knew, and Kai wouldn't risk the evisceration. So it was Damon. The idiot. Bonnie sighed. He really knew how to ruin a good intention.

Elena dropped back. "So it's true."

Bonnie nodded. "It happened."

"When? Where? How long?"

"Does it matter? It happened. And it was wrong and I feel sick about it, we both do. But we've moved on from it and -"

"Stop lying to me," Elena yelled. "Stop," she whispered. She ran her hands over her face and hair.

"You're my best friend. You're the only one who I trust to tell me the truth. Isn't that sad?" Elena laughed. "You broke my heart and you're the only one who can give me the answers I need."

Bonnie looked at her friend. Answers would destroy Elena's illusion of who they were to each other. It required deep cuts, lots of blood loss, and fractures, but the appeal was stronger than the pretense of friendship.

Bonnie stepped aside to let Elena in.