A/N: Hello everyone. Here is the latest. I can't say I'm happy with this chapter; it jumps around a lot to me anyways. But I hope you get something out of it. Thank you for the reviews for last chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Months later…

Dancing was her outlet now. She could say with the movement of her body what she couldn't stay with words. Express her anger and frustration at the tedium of the healing process. Work out anxiety that made it difficult to emerge from her bedroom to face the beginning of a new day. Bonnie Bennett didn't want to remain a prisoner locked away and stockpiling bad emotions and vibes. That was no way to live.

So she lived through music, heavy beats, sweat, and twirling on her bare or sneaker covered feet.

Getting past her initial shyness hadn't been as burdensome as Bonnie expected. The real test was trusting her dance partner since she had yet to work off her aversion to men.

Brandon—born and bred in California with signature blond locks and blue eyes to prove it had been exceedingly patient with her. Though he didn't know her backstory he could tell from Bonnie's guarded expression during their first consultation that she and men mixed like water and vinegar. Several times she cancelled their sessions at the last second with one bullshit excuse after another, until Brandon finally explained to her—bluntly his time could be used to help someone who wanted to be helped, but most importantly wanted to learn.

Sucking it up, Bonnie trotted herself to class faithfully every Wednesday and gave up control to Brandon for two hours.

It wasn't until then that Bonnie realized that had been her problem from the start. Letting go. Relinquishing the little bit of control she had gained back since her assault.

As much as she wanted to bury the incident along with the pain, paranoia, nightmares, and flashbacks, there was something else from her past that Bonnie needed to resolve.

The matter of procuring Katherine's necklace for Nadia Petrova—Katherine's half-sister.

Nadia, during her initial meeting with Bonnie which happened at Mystic Grill in Mystic Falls, Virginia, wove a tail of a family heirloom dating back to the fifteenth century their father had inherited through the ages, but left to Isobel who then bequeath it to her daughter in her will.

The necklace, according to Nadia, was rumored to be a special lock to a volt in some obscure town in Bulgaria.

Whatever, was all Bonnie thought. She wanted the entire business surrounding Nadia and even Zach Salvatore—Giuseppe's possible half brother to be over and done with. She wanted nothing else from her nefarious past to tie her to her past, but there was one final loose string for Bonnie to tie up and for now she wouldn't think about it.

Needless to say, it didn't take much for Bonnie to get the necklace.

She and Katherine had to come to…an agreement they would be cordial with one another but that's as far as things would go. Bonnie had been sent a picture of the necklace, slyly asked Katherine if she could wear it after rifling through her things feigning interest. Katherine had shrugged a delicate olive shoulder and went back to her pampering. A trip to a jeweler who specialized in making authentic looking knockoffs made a replica for a reasonable price. Bonnie mailed the real necklace to Nadia and returned the fake to Katherine who remained none the wiser.

At any point did Bonnie feel bad for slipping into old habits of lying and cheating her way to a desired goal? Yes and no. She convinced herself that deceiving Katherine in this light, and over such a small thing like a necklace would make up for her stepsister's treatment of her, her mother and grandmother.

Still, after what she went through and survived going behind Katherine's back made Bonnie feel dirty all over again. She bit her tongue to stop herself from telling the truth, but she acknowledged had it not been her mom that Giuseppe had fallen in love with, Nadia just would have used someone else to get what she wanted.

When Bonnie had questioned why Nadia just didn't approach Katherine herself, the Bulgarian admitted she had approached her stepsister who dismissed her and labeled her a gold digger and a liar.

Funny, but those were titles once upon a time Bonnie had worn proudly.

The deal wasn't sweetened when Nadia made it so Bonnie became the beneficiary to Brady's estate, however.

Bonnie had no intentions of ever touching that money. The man was gone, dead, and that was the only repayment for the hell he put her through.

Thankfully the official investigation into Brady's death had ended with no parties being held liable. Connor Jordan, the man who intervened and killed Brady had been promoted to manager of the estate with a nice bump in pay. He was also now part of Bonnie's personal detail, and shadowed her practically everywhere.

Bonnie liked him because he didn't make small talk, and he pretty much perfected the art of making himself invisible. And he was one of the rare men she actually felt comfortable around.

Giuseppe and Damon were also on that short list. The former doing his best to never crowd her space, or surprise her when stepping into a room. The latter, he was almost back to his evil ways in teasing her and making salacious innuendo. Harmless now when eight months ago it hadn't been.

Plus, with Damon being a high school graduate and taking classes full-time at Duke, Bonnie lived for those moments where it was just the two of them.

He was coming home this weekend. Was actually scheduled to pick her up from dance class.

"Your flexibility and musicality have gotten better. You've been practicing, I can tell," the sound of Brandon's voice jarred Bonnie out of her musings.

She in return shrugged sheepishly, "Not much to do these days between class and bad weather."

"Listen," Brandon gently laid a hand on Bonnie's shoulder. She didn't flinch like she typically would have done. "I'm holding a showcase in a couple of weeks. Mostly it features my advanced students, but you've come a long way and I was wondering if you might be interested in doing a solo routine?"

Brandon's invitation translated into a spike in Bonnie's anxiety. Words became jumbled in her mouth and came out in one long stream of gibberish. She forced herself to take a breath and start over from the top.

"I'm honored, but I can't dance in front of people."

Brandon spread his feet farther apart while crossing his arms over his sweat stained shirt. "Why not?"

"I'm not a performer, Brandon. I just…what happens in this studio I want to keep it here."

"Why do we dance, Bonnie?"

The girl in question rolled her eyes. Not this Yoda shit, she thought but replied, "To tell a story."

"You have a story to tell and you might not see it this way, but your story could help others release whatever bad shit has happened to them in the past and letting that baggage go. You never know who you might be able to impact, Bon."

Breathing deeply, Bonnie affixed a smile on her face she didn't believe in or feel. "Can I think about it?"

"All right, but I'm only giving you to the end of next week to decide."

Bonnie nodded but said nothing. She had no desire to put on a show in front of an audience of strangers revealing a deeply personal and private side of herself. Dancing with Brandon was quite enough exposure.

"I'll see you next week, Brandon."

"All right. Stay safe."

The next group of hopeful, future professional dancers began to stream into the studio. Several guys did double takes when they saw Bonnie, but she was too busy staring at her shoes and side stepping everyone to notice.

She ran her towel over her sweaty forehead and then slowed her steps. This time a genuine smile spread across her face.

Damon swept through the entrance of the dance studio attired in Oscar de la Renta, and armed with a garment and shopping bag. Bonnie cleared the distance between them; her eyes volleying between him and the items in his possession.

"What's all this?"

"Something for you to change into. And hello to you, too," he winked.

"Hi."

"This place gotta shower?" Damon eyed a couple of dancers wearing outrageously immodest dancing attire. He wiggled his eyebrows when a few cast him a curious look over their shoulders.

Bonnie snapped her fingers quickly regaining Damon's full attention.

"Yeah," she bit out.

"Take this," Damon extended the garment bag to which Bonnie clutched the hanger, "and this," he passed over the shopping bag with Gucci emblazoned on the front, "hit the showers, get beautified and meet me back in this hallway in less than half an hour. My stomach is beginning its first aria of the night," then proceed to making a shooing motion with his hand.

Snorting and rolling her lime green eyes Bonnie did an about face and disappeared down the corridor to do as her stepbrother instructed.

Flashing camera lights mended with the city lights exposing Bonnie to the world. Fortunately she had learned over the passing months how to uphold a façade, keep her true emotions hidden under layers of expensive cosmetics, and well-placed smiles.

With Damon's hand on the cusp of her back, he cleaved a way through the paparazzi stalking the streets for big-name celebrities enjoying a night out on the town. A few people recognized his face. Shouted his name. Asked him to pose with his date, but Damon barreled through the horde knowing how much Bonnie hated having her picture taken.

The inside of the dimly lit upscale restaurant decorated in hues of onyx and burnished gold bustled with low conversation; whilst a charming wait staff tried to smooch their way into a casting director's office. Some making subtle promises of blow jobs in exchange for a bit part in a movie or TV pilot.

Bonnie still had issues with being out in large crowds. Yet her anxiety was usually quelled after taking deep breaths, and making constant mental reassurances she was safe. The past could no longer hurt her if she didn't give it power to do so.

She and Damon were shown to a black lacquer table for four, handed menus, and told their waitress for the evening would be right with them.

"How's Duke?" Bonnie opened up the conversation.

Damon shrugged, "Boring. The parties though…" he shook his head and shivered.

"Have you been behaving yourself?"

Smiling predatorially, Damon answered, "You know me, Bon Bon, behaving is so not my style."

"Of course not. What was I thinking?" her eyes traveled toward the ceiling.

"Have you been getting out of the house and I'm not talking about going to your appointed therapy sessions and dance lessons."

Bonnie dipped her head. "I go out…occasionally."

"Where?"

"None of your business."

"But you want to be all up in my business."

Bonnie grabbed her goblet filled with chilled imported water. "I'm your little sister. It's my job to be in your business," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Step sister," he corrected.

Their relationship had come a long way. Their bond being solidified on the idyllic beaches of The Canary Islands that continued as they made their way home. Bonnie didn't want to confess to using Damon as a crutch, but his presence certainly came in handy on those days she regressed and depression wanted to take root once more.

On those days, he'd force her outdoors to either run around a park, play some horrible basketball, or just went for a joy ride.

"When are you going to come visit me?" Damon flipped through the menu not seeing anything of interest.

"I don't know. I don't know if my mom would be comfortable with me visiting you at school."

"Maybe she forgot but I do live in my own off campus apartment."

"And that's probably why she's not comfortable with me coming to visit you. I guess she figured it's your own porn pad and wants to protect what's left of my virtue," Bonnie said facetiously.

Damon stopped his perusing and stared at Bonnie who had her own gaze fixed to her menu. He knew Abby still didn't trust him with her most prized possession, and several months ago she had reason to worry, but now…

When Damon looked at Bonnie, beyond seeing her for the incredibly stunning young woman she was at the almost tender age of eighteen (he couldn't believe her birthday was coming up again in a few weeks), he saw someone he deeply valued and wanted to protect, even from himself.

Some nights he thought about Bonnie now that he was no longer living under his father's roof, but was still very much living under Giuseppe's tyrannical expectations. Damon would reminiscence about taking a wrecking ball to Bonnie's walls eviscerating them to the point she allowed him to kiss her and taste her flesh.

All of that had to be tossed out the window. The anticipation of sneaking around, being permitted a cop and occasional feel that would leave him throbbing in his pants, and unquestionably dissatisfied he couldn't do more.

But if they had crossed that line Bonnie so assiduously made sure they didn't, Damon would have hated himself tremendously because she deserved so much better than to be pulled into his lifestyle of incestuous debauchery.

They were friends now. At a good place. He certainly didn't want to ruin it.

Sometimes though, it was hard to keep that in the forefront of his mind. Especially when Bonnie wore black lyrca that stretched to accommodate her curves. The Armani safety pin dress he swiped for her shouldn't have been that sexy, and Damon almost felt himself tumbling back into his old possessive ways when he saw one too many dudes checking out her ass and tits.

Feeling his eyes on her, Bonnie lifted her head and sure enough caught Damon ogling her. Shifting in her seat, Bonnie cleared her throat.

"What?" she barked.

"Nothing," Damon smiled. "How is my distrusting stepmother?"

Their waitress approached their table before Bonnie had the chance to reply. Both listened attentively as she, Megumi ran through the specials, her ebony eyes occasionally waltzing over to Damon where they lingered and became hungrier with each glance.

Inwardly, Bonnie sighed heavily and tapped her foot on the carpeted floor. She should be used to the besotted looks that were usually heaped on Damon whenever he stepped foot outside, but it was still irritating. She was, after all, sitting at the table as well.

Damon ordered calamari to start and sent Megumi on her way. "How's Abby?" he reiterated his question.

This time Bonnie took another sip of water. "I think the honeymoon period is over."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think something happened when she went to Paris with Giuseppe back in July. She came back with a funky attitude, and nothing your dad tried to do to make it up to her has worked. I've never seen her this bent out of shape and especially over a guy. You don't think…you don't think Giuseppe cheated do you?"

Damon snorted, made a steeple of his hands, and placed them atop the table. His father wasn't known for his fidelity—at least not known for being capable of fidelity for longer than a lunar year. So hell yes it was possible his old man packaged his meat where it ought not belong.

Furthermore, Giuseppe's case wasn't helped considering one of his former mistresses called the true City of Lights, home.

Damon gauged Bonnie prior to saying a word. She loved his dad like he was her biological father, and though he immensely enjoyed popping people's balloons, the last thing Damon wanted to do was destroy Bonnie's image of his dad she's built up in her mind.

Then again, he only believed in lying when it suited his interests.

"To be honest, I wouldn't put it past my dad."—Bonnie deflated a little and disappointment washed over her face—"But I know my old man. He really does love your mom."

"And if he loves her so much he couldn't keep his dick to himself?" Bonnie retorted acerbically. Could she come across one man that wouldn't mount to being a massive let down?

"I'm sure in his old age he's had to learn some semblance of control," Damon defended, "and that's why I think it's a long shot that he sleazed it up with someone not named Abby in Paris," he added with a fake French accent.

Bonnie smiled a little. "I just hope whatever happened between them, that wasn't it. Maybe…maybe they got into another fight about me."

"Why would they fight about you? You've handled being on probation with excellence."

After coming home under the influence of illicit drugs, reluctantly agreeing to counseling, relinquishing motor vehicle driving rights, and basically wearing nothing less than a stylish GPS tracker in the form of a Bvlgari wristwatch, Bonnie had not grumbled or railed against the conditions set after her revelation about being repeatedly sexually assaulted, on top of being a thief.

She hadn't whined and complained but someone else had taken the helm up for her: Giuseppe. Three months after the truth was exposed, he came to the conclusion that Bonnie had re-earned their trust and could use a bit more independence. Abby thought otherwise and asserted it was her being too lenient and trusting with Bonnie that led her down a path of criminal intent, which thus led to her being taken advantage of by a pedophile that was blissfully dead.

Bonnie penned her stepbrother with a knowing look. "You know why, Damon."

"It's been almost a year," he needlessly reminded.

"You and I know that but it's still something my mom thinks about every day. I do, too, and I know she feels guilty and responsible. I don't know how many times I've told her it wasn't her fault. I made those choices and as a consequence what happened, happened."

"And I'm sure Abby knows that," Damon reaffirmed, "but she's your mom and she's always going to feel responsible no matter what you or the facts say. My dad…he only believes in holding a grudge when it comes to extorting him out of money. Everything else is easily forgiven and forgotten. I can't imagine Abby being happy with his laid back attitude."

"No," Bonnie concurred. "I heard them arguing one night," her eyes found Damon's over the table. "She didn't think he was taking what happened to me seriously enough. He told my mom it was over and she needed to move on because otherwise her inability to let it go would hinder my ability to do the same. She called him a gotdamn sonofabitch and not to tell her how to parent, and saying I wasn't his daughter. It was brutal."

Damon soaked all that in. "Hearing that…how did it make you feel?"

"Like my problems were ripping them apart. I don't want them to break up, Damon."

Damon made it a practice not to interfere in his dad's personal business. But he could see what the constant fights between his father and new bride were doing to Bonnie. He had gone through the same thing listening to his parents argue, and no child no matter the age should be subjected to that.

He wondered if he should talk to his papino. See what was really going on.

"Dancing helps," Bonnie confided. "I can stay focused on that and let everything else drift into the background. Oh, I didn't tell you," she perked up, "my dance coach wants me to do a solo in his exhibition."

A slow grin stretched across Damon's mug. "Well look at you little Derekia Hough!" he teased and then winced when Bonnie slapped his arm none-too-gently. "Are you going to do it?"

Self-consciousness robbed Bonnie of her fleeting moment of euphoria. "I don't know. Dancing has become that outlet where I can say the things I want to say, and to do that in front of an audience it'll be like…I'm exposing the deepest parts of myself and I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that."

Damon nodded. Many might not think he had any issues simply because he was a rich kid from Orange County, but there were parts of himself he wasn't comfortable with exposing to anyone else. So he could understand Bonnie's trepidation.

"If you decide to do it you have to let me know so I can be on the front row," he winked.

Their waitress returned with their appetizer and soft drinks, and then jotted down their entrée orders before leaving them alone.

Bonnie talked around a mouthful of fried squid. "Have you talked to Katherine? I haven't really heard or seen her in the last couple of weeks."

Damon shook his head. "Now that you mention it…I haven't heard from that she-devil since I started school. Knowing Katherine she's probably in Europe somewhere with her latest sugar daddy."

"She gets around."

"The chick gets more mileage than a greyhound bus."

Bonnie laughed and sobered. "You're one to talk. You see more ass than a toilet seat."

"Well," Damon waved his hand as if he were at a Baptist church.

From across the eatery sat Stefan Salvatore. He hadn't been sure, at first, if he were in fact looking at Bonnie Bennett since her back was to him. When she turned to give their waitress her undivided attention, and he caught her in profile, his speculation had been put to rest.

Their communication had been sporadic bordering on non-existent since last December. The two did cross paths at his and Damon's graduation in June. She looked nothing less than radiant, and though Stefan very much wanted to embrace Bonnie, pull her into a hug, he resisted. Her outright cancellation of their friendship still prevalent in his mind.

Yet Bonnie had congratulated him and even posed for a couple of pictures his parents had insisted they take together. Those pictures were hung up on the walls of his dorm room.

Stefan had gripped her hand and wondered if it would be cool for them to remain in touch since he would be attending a private college in New Hampshire.

Bonnie had agreed but neither one had actually sat out to call or email the other.

He was home for his little brother's birthday which the celebration wasn't scheduled until tomorrow night. He was with a few of his friends from the wrestling team, fellow graduates of Manchester Prep, watching a girl he really liked break bread with someone else.

Stefan wanted to go over to Bonnie and Damon's table, but they were heavily engrossed with one another. If he didn't know they were step siblings, he would have assumed they were on a date.

Surreptitiously, Stefan observed the twosome throughout their meal. Damon, for once, didn't look smug and haughty relieving Stefan of the temptation to rearrange his face with a fist, and Bonnie…

Though he could only see her from the back he imagined her smiling, her eyes closing while she laughed with her whole spirit.

Stefan, exasperated with his own flowery thoughts returned his attention back to the conversation happening at his own table. But not before witnessing Bonnie wipe the corner of Damon's mouth. A move that could be classified as deeply intimate.

With their meal consumed, Bonnie rested her elbow on the table and just stared at Damon while he filled out the receipt for the bill.

"So what are we doing next, chief?" she inquired and finished the drop of cherry Pepsi in her glass.

"Feel like working into a sweat?"

"In this dress? Are you crazy?"

Damon opened his mouth, poised to comment when he spotted Stefan gawking at him. He turned his head but hadn't been fast enough. Frowning, Damon pocketed his wallet.

"We've been spotted," Damon motioned with his head for Bonnie to look behind her.

She did and scanned the crowd not seeing anyone she knew, but then searched the second floor of the restaurant and saw Stefan.

Their eyes connected and automatically his hand lifted in a wave, which Bonnie returned at much more languid pace.

Inhaling, Bonnie rose from the table.

"Where are you going?"

"To say hello. I haven't seen him since graduation, and I did promise to keep in touch and I haven't exactly done that. I'll be right back," Bonnie wove her way around tables, and walked up the short flight of stairs to the top portion of the restaurant.

Damon didn't budge as he kept close watch. Stefan stood to his feet the second Bonnie arrived. He pulled her into a hug, and then proceeded to introduce her to his friends. Not once did he lower his arm from around her shoulders.

Using the tip of his tongue, Damon dislodged a piece of food from his back molars, and flipped his wrist to check the time. He heard laughter coming from Stefan's table, and when he spied that area Bonnie was still among the group of losers he paid not one damn second of attention to in high school. Unless, of course, it was to make a derogatory joke. The only one Damon knew by name was Matt Donovan since he had been one of Katherine's boy toys.

He was tempted to go up there and insert himself into the happy reunion, yet remained in his seat. Bonnie wasn't his girlfriend. Why should he be bothered by her being chummy with some guy she had a fleeting crush on?

"Well it was nice meeting you guys," Bonnie said sensing Damon's growing impatience.

"Likewise, Bonnie," Matt Donovan shook her hand again, this time adding a kiss.

Her smile faltered and Bonnie did her best not to yank her hand away. She took a step back, but Stefan wasn't quite ready to let her go just yet.

Before she departed Stefan pulled her aside to a quiet alcove that led to the bathrooms.

This unnerved Bonnie slightly. Being sequestered alone with someone she abruptly cut out of her life who just so happened to be male.

Stefan sucked in air through his teeth, inadvertently inhaling Bonnie's fragrance which took him back to days he escorted her to class, ate lunch with her, kissed her within an inch of her life.

He shook the haze from his mind. "You look…beautiful," his voice sounded strained to his own ears.

Bonnie tried not to fidget on her feet. "I see New Hampshire has been treating you well."

Stefan beamed. "You didn't forget where I was going to school."

"I know we don't talk like we used to, but I do remember all the important facts about you, Stefan."

His hand itched to touch any part of Bonnie but refrained due to the guarded look in her viridian orbs. She might be okay being affectionate with Damon, but that privilege didn't extend to everyone else.

"How've you been?" Stefan cleared his throat.

"I've been doing all right for the most part. What about you? Do you like New Hampshire?"

Shrugging, Stefan stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's okay. Much different from California. People actually say hello to you when you're walking down the street, and wave even when they don't know you. It's weird," he laughed self-depreciatingly.

Bonnie joined in. "I imagine it would be. I kind of miss that actually. Mystic Falls, I guess it has something in common with where you go to school. People are just naturally friendly."

"I guess so. I…I don't want to keep you," parting was the last thing he wanted but Stefan didn't want to crowd her.

"Yeah, I'm sure Damon is ready to go. It was nice seeing you, Stefan."

"Ditto. Oh, before you go I have to know how you're enjoying your senior year."

Bonnie made a noncommittal gesture. "It's okay so far. I'm swamped with SAT prep, arranging college tours, the whole nine. But it's awesome being on top of the social pyramid. I missed so much last year…being home schooled and all."

"Right, you were missed. I missed you."

Bonnie's eyes began to glitter with unshed tears as she remembered why she had opted to be home schooled. No one knew her reason and she intended to keep it that way.

Her spine stiffened when Stefan shrank the distance between them. Bonnie held her breath and told herself not to knee him in the balls for getting too close to her. He didn't mean her any harm. Bonnie didn't react when Stefan laid a gentle kiss on her cheek and quickly stepped back.

The weight of his stare was heavy and caused Bonnie to swallow thickly. She couldn't lie and say she wasn't still attracted to Stefan, but it was a ghostly apparition of what she used to feel for him. Her heart was pounding but for a totally different reason than raging hormones.

Bonnie's skin tingled where his lips had landed. "I missed you too, Stefan. I still do," slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

The young man in front of her smiled. His eyes went from a mild burn to full on smoldering, and Bonnie took a gargantuan step backwards crashing into the wall. Stefan's hands shot out to steady Bonnie as confusion and hurt flashed over his face.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Can we go somewhere and talk? I can drive you home afterwards."

"I need to get back to Damon. I'll…I'll see you later, Stefan."

"Bonnie," he clasped her wrist, detaining her. "Please, can I see you sometime?"

She slowly brought her eyes back to his face, silently imploring him to let her go. Her body may have healed from what happened to her, but her mind had yet to free itself totally from bondage. Anyone she didn't give expressed permission to touch her, Bonnie saw as a threat and one she wanted to flee. After inflicting some pain.

Bonnie wormed her wrist free. Threw one conciliatory smile in Stefan's direction. "I don't know. I have to go," she booked it back downstairs.

Damon stood from the table, face pensive while Bonnie swiped a thumb under her eyes. "You okay?" he asked once she was in hearing distance.

Vigorously nodding, Bonnie grabbed her clutch. "Yeah, let's go."

Damon extended his arm which Bonnie greatly accepted.

"Where are we going next?" she resisted looking behind her to see if Stefan were watching.

"Just to this place I know called The Arcade."

Bonnie scrunched her nose as if she smelled something foul and rancid. "The Arcade?" she deadpanned. "Are you serious? Never mind, of course you're serious," Bonnie sighed dramatically.

"Please, like you haven't been making full use of the gaming consoles I left behind."

Bonnie peeked at him from under her lashes as they waited on the curb for Damon's car to be brought around. "I plead the fifth."

Once the car speedily rounded the curb, Damon exchanged some curt words with the valet, and opened the passenger side door for Bonnie.

They were off once more.

Damon lowered the drop top and rolled his DB9 to a stop to wait for the light to turn green. Bonnie busied herself with scrolling through his iPod when he snatched it out of her hand, and then started playing a song she hadn't heard since she was in middle school.

At the same time the beat started a car pulled up alongside them. Damon swiveled his head toward the older gentleman and his fifty-trying-to-pass-for-twenty year old female companion, and started bouncing in his seat and blurted:

"It's Crime Mob, hoe!"

Bonnie busted out into laughter and covered her mouth once catching the scandalized looks on the other couples face. She screamed Damon's name behind her fingers.

The young teen's laughter died once the older man began pumping Rick Ross through his sound system; effectively shutting down Damon's attempt at proving who was the cooler and cockier asshole.

Once the light switched to green, the old man and lady threw up the deuces and sped away.

Damon eased his foot on the gas.

"I think we just got served," Bonnie said tickled and stupefied.

"Yeah, I think we just did," Damon chuckled darkly.

The reunited step siblings played video games until their hearts content and walked away with a thousand tickets to which they cashed in, and Bonnie admired the cubic zirconia rock decorating her index finger.

Neither wanted to return to the newest Salvatore pad located in Calabasas. The house on Catalina Island had been put up for sale shortly after the events involving Brady and his subsequent murder. Bonnie had been staunch in her refusal to return.

Giuseppe figured it was time to move anyways. Anyone who called southern California home never lived in the same place for more than five years. If they did, they coped by doing a total renovation akin to a face lift transforming their piece of real estate to surpass the Joneses.

Plus he had the added excuse of creating a home with his new wife since Abby and Bonnie essentially just moved into a house he had built for his second wife, Damon's mom. It was time to start anew. Fresh.

Bonnie certainly had made no complaints. She even had creative control over the construction of her new bedroom, working with the architect and contractors to get it to her exact specifications.

The house was far from ready, but the guest house was finished; a little mini-mansion of its own that Bonnie and been living in along with her mom and stepfather.

For the moment she and Damon were back at the Salvatore condo.

Bonnie settled on the couch, wiggling until she was comfortable. Ankle boots discarded, throw blanket covering her legs she waited for Damon before starting the movie.

Her cell rang and by the ringtone it was her mom. Huffing, Bonnie grabbed it off the coffee table and answered, "Hey mom. What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"At the condo with Damon. We're about to watch a movie."

"Oh, he's not staying at a hotel?"

Bonnie pulled a face thankful her mom couldn't see it. "No, why would he stay at a hotel? And I told you that he was hanging out with me this weekend."

"I know it's…tell him I said to behave himself, all right? I love you."

"Love you, too. I'll call you in the morning."

"I really do think you should come home."

"Mama," Bonnie sighed exasperatedly. "I'm with Damon. Nothing is going to happen. I'll be fine. We'll be fine," she stressed and soon became distracted as Damon emerged from his room wearing a white ribbed tank that hugged his frame and a pair of basketball shorts.

He parked his ass on the couch next to her, grabbing the remote.

Bonnie averted her attention back to the conversation her mom was intent on having. "What?"

"I asked how dance was?"

"Oh, it was good like always. Brandon wants me to perform a solo at this upcoming showcase he's putting on."

"Baby, that's amazing!"

"I know," Bonnie went still when Damon sat back, his shoulder practically touching hers.

She flicked her gaze to him. He was busy surfing through Netflix trying to find something to numb their brains for the next two hours.

Bonnie cleared her throat.

"Are you going to do it?"

"I don't know, mama. I told Brandon I'd think about it, but I'm not sure. Look, we can talk about this some more tomorrow," Bonnie cut her mom off at the quick knowing Abby would deliberately keep her on the phone as her way of cockblocking. "I love you."

Abby sighed in defeat. "Fine. Tomorrow then. Love you, too."

Bonnie hung up her phone and placed it on silent. She couldn't cut it all the way off knowing that Abby would check in with her before she headed off to bed, and would lose her shit if she couldn't get a hold of her.

"Damn…how tight is that leash around your neck," Damon commented.

"Not so tight that I can strangle you with it," Bonnie grinned widely.

"Has anyone told you what a violent little thing you are?"

"Only you."

"And I wonder why I'm always the target of your angry black woman tendencies."

For that Bonnie twisted his nipple causing Damon to roar unnecessarily loud.

"See!"

"Shut up and just pick a movie for us to watch, stupid. Ass."

Damon couldn't find anything he wanted to watch he hadn't already seen a million times, and decided to settle with Pacific Rim. He tossed the remote on the table before kicking his feet up.

"Had a nice chat with Stefan?" he began prodding for information.

"I did."

When Bonnie failed to elaborate Damon gave her a sidelong glance. "Where does he go to school again?"

"Some private college in New Hampshire. Forget the name of it."

Damon relaxed infinitesimally at the news Stefan was literally on the other side of these United States.

"I know why you're being nosy about Stefan and it has little to do with wanting to know where he's going to school. I know you don't care about that."

"What other reason would I have?"

Bonnie twisted on the couch to face Damon. "You think or suspect I'm going to take back up with him. Well, hate to inform you but dating is the last thing on my mind."

"Ever think it'll go back to being the first thing on your list of priorities?"

Bonnie considered the question before answering. "I don't know. The thought of spending time alone with a virtual stranger…touching someone…someone touching me…it still kind of makes my skin crawl."

Damon brought his traffic stopping azure irises on Bonnie. "You don't seem to mind it too much when I hug you. Kiss your cheek."

"It's different with you, Damon. I trust you."

"You made me work for that trust."

"I did so for a reason," Bonnie informed. "It would mean more to you if you actually had to put in the elbow grease necessary to earn my trust. But…I miss it."

Damon maneuvered on the couch until he could see Bonnie head on. "Miss what? My Lothario ways?"

Bonnie chuckled drily. "No. I don't miss that. I…I do miss being affectionate with someone. You know how I was when we first met, and I feel like I'm back in that kind of position again, only worse. Wanting to keep everyone at arm's length. I trusted you to get me past that."

Damon told his heart not to start beating any faster than it was at the moment.

"You've helped me so much, Damon. In many ways I owe you my life."

He reached for Bonnie's hand and entwined their fingers, her skin impossibly warm and soft. "You don't owe me anything. I'd do anything for you, Bonnie." Damon almost blurted he'd kill for her but there was no need to be that dramatic.

"And I'd do anything for you…like telling you, you have a piece of spinach stuck between your front teeth," Bonnie keeled over in laughter.

"What?" Damon began using his fingernails to pry the piece of foliage from his teeth wondering if it's been lodged there since dinner, and Bonnie was just now telling him.

When his fingers came back clean, and he used his tongue and couldn't find anything, realizing Bonnie lied, he pounced and started tickling her unmercifully knowing how ticklish she was.

Bonnie roared for him to stop in between laughing uncontrollably while unsuccessfully twisting her body in a futile attempt to wiggle free.

Her wrists where then pinned to either side of her head mainly to stop her from launching her own counterstrike. Damon's face was much to close and though this was one of Bonnie's triggers, she became very still.

Damon, belatedly, recognized the position he held Bonnie in and expeditiously bounced to his feet, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

Pushing herself to stand, Bonnie said, "It's okay. I wasn't scared."

"You weren't?" Damon was skeptical.

"No, because I know you'd never hurt me. I'm all right."

Whether to believe her or not, Damon looked Bonnie over from head-to-toe. She wasn't shaking, her hands weren't trembling. "I think we should probably call it a night."

"Well, you can go to bed if you want. I want to watch the movie," Bonnie retook her seat on the couch.

Damon hesitated before sitting down next to her.

They were quiet for a while. Enshrining themselves in the world of make believe and awe-inspiring CGI graphics.

"Do you trust yourself around me, Damon?"

He stared at Bonnie—nodded.

"Good. Hold on to that because I may ask a favor of you and I hope you'll remember that you trust me and I trust you. Why?" Bonnie took her eyes off Charlie Hunnam's abs, and looked Damon directly in the eye. "Because I love you."

Damon's breath hitched and his heart seized.

"I love you, too."

And Damon understood they weren't talking about romantic love. But another kind of love that just may transcend that.

Bonnie looped her arm with Damon's and laid her head on his shoulder. It was nice to finally get that off her chest.

Chapter end.

A/N: I did a massive time jump to kind of speed things along. So for those who might have missed it, Damon has already graduated high school, is a freshman at Duke. Bonnie is now a senior. Let me know what you think. If you follow me on tumblr you know I'll be going on hiatus shortly, and for those who don't have tumblr, well now you know, lol. Thanks so much for reading! Oh and in case you were wondering if Bonnie's dance coach Brandon is the same one from Honey 2, you would be correct.