A/N: So this started out as a short, 200 word ficlette, and somehow managed to morph in to this giant. Anyways - here's my first TVD fic! (Pertinent Info: It's starts the morning after 'Crying Wolf' then jumps back to the night before, then back to the morning. I don't think it's too confusing in the actual text, but just in case). Enjoy, and don't forget to review!


She was in that groggy state of waking. The few minutes that your brain hasn't caught up with the rest of your body, and the world is silent – oh, and nice and warm.

She snuggled deeper in the warmth.

"Mhmm," she sighed involuntarily, and took a deep breath of air.

Ever since she had been taking on more challenging magic, she'd constantly been exhausted yet unable to sleep. She'd tried counting sheep, running up and down the stairs, boring herself to sleep by reading 'The Economist' – but still she'd lay awake for hours, and when she finally did fall asleep she'd wake suddenly at even the slightest noise. For as absent as Elena had been lately (to be fair, she had really good excuses), she'd still been observant enough to notice Bonnie's clearly tired eyes. And like any good friend, she tried to solve the problem with a present.

So when they'd all gotten together to exchange gifts the day after Christmas, Bonnie had received a wonderful smelling set from 'Bath and Body Works' that included a lavender and chamomile aromatherapy pillow mist, that apparently was supposed to make her sleep better.

She wasn't sure if she was more susceptible to holistic medicine because of her witchy status, but however it was achieved, the first night she used the sweet smelling mist it had only taken two hours to fall asleep.

Minor progress, but progress none the less.

And every morning since she'd been able to enjoy waking up. Her mind still tired, but her body happy and well rested. And every morning since she'd enjoyed waking up to her yummy smelling pillow.

On her deep inhale, she'd immediately noticed it's absence. In it's place was something that could only be described as warm, and I'm officially announcing 'warm' as a smell.With a slight note of AXE.

Definitely not my pillow.

Her nose was awake, then her ears (faint car noises, and a coffee grinder), then her eyes (nothing – her head was under the covers), then her body (pressed up against a warm, person-like pillow), then her brain (not a person-like pillow, an actual person).

When her brain had finally turned all the way on, she felt silly for being so cliché – though she was glad that she didn't do something so over the top, like jump out of the bed and scream or anything.

Now that she was fully awake, and fully aware of the fact that – yes, she was in Jeremy's bed.

She should feel bad, as that coffee grinder told her that Jenna was awake. She should feel bad, as this was Elena's little brother and How in the world is she going to react to this? So, she should feel bad.

Instead she was desperately trying not to smile. Trying, and failing.

Big smile.


They had barely been able to tear themselves away from each other long enough to make the two minute drive from Caroline's to the Gilbert household last night, and seemed to have a silent understanding that she was definitely not going home. When they'd arrived, Jenna had already gone upstairs to sleep, and with Elena gone they'd had the house practically to themselves.

She must have looked like a frightened deer, because Jeremy had just smiled (that smile) at her and asked if she was hungry.

And that's what dissipated the guilt. Unnecessary in the first place, because she wasn't technically doing anything wrong. But unnecessary as it was, it was there – but every time he brushed passed the awkward moments with a smile, and every time he gave her that look that calmed something deep inside her, in those moments she knew there was nothing to apologize for.

She fought against this long enough. And in that time had become very familiar with phrase 'He's Elena's little brother'. So much so that after a while it didn't even sound like a sentence anymore; like when you say a word over and over until it doesn't even sound the same. If she was honest with herself (and now she could be), the feelings were there all along. Therefore the phrase had to be repeated more and more.

Clearly it had been an unsuccessful method.

And for once in her life, she was happy that she'd failed.

Oh, glorious failure.

Because really, what was the point? Why not?

So he was Elena's little brother – but like Caroline said, none of them are in any position to judge. They're vampires and werewolves and witches and God knows what else – and they're all intertwined in some fashion, often overlapping. Elena had dated Matt, who dated Caroline, who had "dated" Damon, who was in love with Elena, who was dating his brother, who used to be in love with Katherine, who was also with Damon, and oh my, thinking headache. So yeah, no position to judge.

And that phrase didn't even hold any meaning to her anymore. Not for a while now. If she tried to trace it back, the moment her eyes had really opened when it came to him was at the Masquerade. Before that, he really had just been Elena's punk kid brother – awkward, then emo, then drugged. Then she'd looked over to see a handsome man in a suit, joking about sex spells and asking her to dance.

All of a sudden she was having to force herself to think of him only as that phrase. In her head, whenever she had thoughts about him, forced herself to replace his name with 'Elena's little brother'. But then thoughts like 'Elena's little brother can drive' were turning into 'Elena's little brother's so tall' and 'Elena's little brother almost kissed me' and one interesting dream in which caused her to moan 'Elena's little brother' out loud, and then it really didn't seem right to include Elena's name in her increasingly frequent fantasies.

So then he was just Jeremy.

And with that her thoughts quickly turned to mush, and all she wanted to do was giggle.

She was not a giggler. In fact, when Caroline used to screech and giggle about her latest conquest way back when, she'd often wished she could somehow discreetly plug her ears and cover her eyes. It wasn't just the sound, it was the thought behind the sound. The idea that strong women start tripping over themselves and speaking in a register only dogs could hear was simply ridiculous. Bonnie was not a inexperienced person in the world of dating – she had had crushes, had dates, had a boyfriend – but she was always in control. Whenever Caroline would jump up and down about her Flavor of the Month, it seemed to Bonnie that the girl had lost all mental capacity.

Yet here she was, standing in the foyer giggling in her head (she did have some control) while Jeremy looked at her expectantly.

Why was he – oh!

"Yeah, I'm starving," she answered his question. He smiled again, and this time she couldn't help but let her facade crack and returned his smile in kind. Now they were both walking down the hallway, both smiling.

She was quickly discovering that the girl who'd wanted to tape Caroline's squealing mouth shut was a big hypocrite. She really wanted to jump up and down. (Though there was the difference; she wouldn't, but man did she want to).

She had always thought that Caroline looked foolish, but this feeling – it wasn't foolish at all. It was intoxicating. Her heart felt like it was trying to jump out of her throat, her stomach fluttering with butterflies, shivers running up her spine. It was exciting.

"Alright, what do you feel like eating?" he said as he gestured for her to sit at the island.

"I don't know, what do you have?" she replied, and in the moment assessed that her voice could have easily been used in a radio commercial selling happiness.

"Well," he grinned back and turned away to look through the cabinets, "Popcorn, mac an' cheese, trail mix, and..." reaching "expired flour."

"Flour can expire?"

"Apparently," opening the fridge "I just realized I have no idea where flour comes from." He gave a breathy laugh before pulling out a jar of raspberry jam. "PB and J?"

"Yummy!" she smiled "And it's basically just powdered wheat...or corn...or something like that."

"Creamy or chunky?" he asked, holding up the two different kinds of peanut butter.

"You have both? Isn't that against the laws of nature or something?" she joked, and hopped out of her seat. She reached out to grab the creamy, purposefully grazing her fingers against his. Who knew peanut butter could be so sexy?

"Usually," he laughed, and they both moved to stand by the island, laying out the ingredients in a line on the counter. "But I like creamy, and Jenna and Elena both like chunky," he explained, grabbing two clean plates from the dishwasher.

"Well, they are clearly nuts," she said in a light, matter-of-fact tone.

"Right? And they think I'm the crazy one," he replied, placing a plate in front of her and handing her the loaf of bread. She opened the bread, passing up the end piece. He did the same, and she wondered if anyone ever ate the end pieces.

"I wonder if people ever eat the end pieces – maybe there's like some big 'end piece' land fill, where all the end bits of bread go to die," he said, spreading the creamy peanut butter on his bread as she did the same with the jelly.

"I know! I've never actually seen anyone eat a sandwich with those parts of the bread. It is a strange thing to do though, if you think about it," she laughed, and traded him the jam for the peanut butter, "I mean, it's not like it tastes any different."

"No, but it looks weird."

"So does calamari, but people still eat that."

"Yeah, but the bread ends are all crust and usually stale."

"Well that's an actual reason to not eat the ends. It protects the other bread-"

"From attack?" he joked.

Smiling back, she flipped one side on to the other, "No, from the air."

"Ahh," he said, cutting his completed sandwich into triangles.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," she said as she turned towards him and leaned her hip on the edge of the counter, "You cut across?"

"Yeah," he said, tilting his head a bit in question as she took the knife out of his had.

She sliced her sandwich down the middle.

"Oh," he said gravely, and after a few seconds continued, "Well, what are we supposed to do now?"

"Obviously we can't be friends anymore," she said seriously.

"Obviously," he said, smiling eyes and smiling lips. She couldn't help but smile back.

She was beginning to learn that when it came to feeling this way, control wasn't high on the list of attributes. And speaking of lack of control, she was having a hard time not launching herself at him. Her smile only got bigger when it registered in her mind that she didn't need to be in control.

No one else was here to judge her and there was no need to keep herself behind some self-implemented boundary. There was no need to fight herself anymore.

Looking in his eyes, she felt like there were thousands of invisible strands of electricity between them. His eyes were warm, his lips devilishly inviting, his frame tall and muscly, and she was definitely breathing heavier, and so was he, and his eyes slid from hers to her lips and seemed to darken instantly, and why not?

And the next second she was on her tip toes with her arms around his neck, his lips against hers, arms wrapped around her waist, hands sliding up her spine. She could feel their hearts pounding in time against their connected chests, and she felt completely consumed. There wasn't a sliver of space between them; one arm was wrapped around his neck, the other running her fingers through his hair, his own arms pressing her to him. Most of her weight was held up by him, with only the tips of her feet touching the ground.

Thighs pressed, hips pressed, stomachs pressed, chests pressed, mouths pressed. His hand slid down her side, squeezing her hip in an attempt to pull her even closer, and the other came up to cup her face . She tilted her head and slid her tongue past his lips, and he issued a low groan that shot straight through her, causing her own higher pitched moan to escape.

By now they were both taking in heavy, uneven breaths through their noses, though unwilling to part for a more substantial gulp of air.

She felt like there was fire running through her veins, electricity across her skin, fireworks exploding, and every other cliché that's been used to describe passion. Her whole body and ninety-nine percent of her brain was drowning in him, but the one percent that was only wading neck deep took the moment to analyze the situation. That one percent was in complete concurrence with the rest of her that this past minute was leagues better than any other time in her experience.

Her history with relationships was spotty and often unpleasant.

From her first crush in kindergarden on a boy who later poured glue in her lunch box and cut off her Barbie's hair, to her first real boyfriend in seventh grade breaking up with her after a week by revealing that he only dated her to get close to Caroline, to her breaking up with the guy she lost her virginity to because he'd written the event up as his Facebook status, to the guy who kidnapped her, to the guy who died a few minutes after meeting her, to the guy that betrayed her, to this.

Maybe there wasn't a whole lot of competition on the emotional front, but even with her physical track record being a bit more positive, they still didn't measure up.

She'd only slept with Tom that once, and though there were a few drunken make-outs post-Tom, nothing that approached home-run territory happened. Still, she had been attracted to Tom – before the Facebook incident, he was good looking and nice and took the time to make her comfortable that one and only time.

The right adjective to describe the experience would be nice.

It had hurt, and then felt a bit better, and it was nice. Nice. Afterwards they slept on separate sides of the bed, but she felt content and nice and relieved. Relieved that it was relatively pain free, and that she would actually remember it in the morning (poor Caroline).

Jeremy turned her slightly to press her up against the island, slipped a hand down from her waist, and curved it under her thigh to lift her and set her down on the counter's surface. Her legs automatically wrapped around the back of his thighs to pull him back towards her, both of them groaning at the contact. She moved her hands down across the nape of his neck to explore his strong shoulders and arms and back and sides and anything that wasn't already pressed tightly against her. In response, that throaty moan vibrated through his chest and he slid his hand up from her thigh, lightly fanning his thumb across the crease in her hip before continue on to squeeze her backside and press her hips forcefully towards his.

This was definitely not nice.

This was exactly what had been missing before, the lack of which made her describe the experience as 'nice'. This would never be described as nice. This was electric, and passionate, and completely overwhelming.

And it was gloriously wonderful.

They were completely lost in each other, and it was wonderful.

Hands were flitting from one place to another, up and down with no rhyme or reason, just eager to explore. She tightened her legs around his hips, he squeezed her thigh, she slipped her hand under the back collar of his shirt and down between his shoulder blades, he pushed his hand beneath her shirt to caress her back, she runs her hands down his chest to rest on his belt buckle, his hands skim up along her ribs and oh god can this please go on forever.

Her whole body is ignited. For the first time their lips part as she arches backwards, he places his searing lips against her throat, and a large, open-mouthed inhale fills her lungs with the smell of burnt toast, and her elbow is hot but he's not touching her elbow, so she forces her eyes to peek open and oh crap, the sandwiches are on fire.

And for a second she honestly considers just ignoring it if favor of the hands and mouths, but a second later realizes that if the fire spread they would be hard pressed to explain themselves out of that situation.

So, how did this fire start exactly?

I'm so sorry I burnt your house down Elena.

Right, I got that. I'm just not clear on how it happened. I mean, it had to do with your powers right? Are you okay?

Oh yeah, I'm totally fine! Basically, me and your little brother were getting hot and heavy on your kitchen counter, and I got so into it I accidentally set a sandwich on fire, and then decided to ignore it so that I could keep running my hands all over your brother's body. We're cool though, right?

Yeah.

"Fire," she breathed out with much less urgency than was probably needed.

"Hmm," he replied, not quite hearing her whispered words. She really needed to speak up. Can't set the house on fire.

"Sandwich. Fire," she managed to say at a higher volume. Not exactly Shakespeare, Bonnie.

Oh, shut up.

He finally seemed to register what she was saying and tore his lips away from her skin. Stupid fire.

They were both still taking labored breaths, and Bonnie looked up at him to see his dark, hooded eyes that were still heavy with arousal, and knew her eyes were probably reflecting the same thing. Their mouths were still only inches apart, foreheads pressed lightly together, her hands resting on his chest, his right drawing nonsensical shapes on the small of her back and the other splayed warmly on her hip. Their breathing slowed.

Then she realized she'd forgot about the fire, and her eyes snapped open as she twisted her head to the right. At her motion, Jeremy did the same, and after a few seconds of staring at the odd sight of two PB&J sandwiches burning merrily away on their plate's, his chest started shaking under her hands and she turned back to see him laughing.

"Holy shit, you set the sandwiches on fire!" he laughed, moving his hands to lie on either side of her, his gleeful face spread in a contagious smile, and soon she was laughing along with him, occasionally glancing over at the sandwiches just to make sure they didn't actually set fire to anything else.

She got a picture in her head of how they must look right now – hair mussed, clothes displaced, lips swollen; breathless laughter, and two burning sandwiches. At the sight, she quickly burned the image into her brain. It was one of those tiny, absurd moments in life that you don't ever want to forget.

They were staring at each other again, and with smiling eyes Jeremy moved in to place a gentle kiss on her lips; still as passionate, but with less urgency than their previous round. Bonnie found that the quiet kisses set her on fire just as- fire!

She pulled back abruptly and pushed him lightly towards the sink to get water, "Fire!" and he backed up still looking at her with those sex eyes, got some water and started to pour it over the smoldering snacks.

Her breathing had finally evened itself out, but her heart was still pounding a mile a minute.

"Well, so much for sandwiches," he said, giving her a sidelong grin before carrying the water logged sandwiches to the trash, and set the scorched dishes beside the sink.

She bit her smiling lower lip and swung her legs gently back and forth, "Trail mix is good."

"Okay," he replied making the short trip to the still open cabinet reaching his arms up, long sleeves pushed up his forearms, shoulder muscles bulging, and her head tilted to the side and wow.

"You have great arms," she blurted out without thinking, but didn't feel the need to backtrack as his face instantly lit up and therefore her heart warmed instead of her cheeks. He grabbed the large bag of Trail Mix ("Now With Walnuts!") and set it down next to her before grabbing the peanut butter, jam, and bread to return to their respective homes.

Swinging the fridge door open, "Yeah, you have pretty great assets yourself," and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

"You did not just say that."

Jam in it's place between the marmalade and mustard, "Well, it's true," still smiling while closing the door.

"That may be," and he gave her a look like come on, "but that is still the lamest pun of all time – and that's really saying something, because puns are pretty much unanimously horrible."

Bread back in the bread box, mouth open, "How are puns horrible? Puns rock!" and the peanut butter back on it's shelf, cabinet door closed.

"They do not rock – they're not even funny!"

He's walked over to her, arms resting once again on the counter on either side of her body. What were we talking about again?

"I bet you anything I can get you to laugh using a pun," his smirking face said, voice playful and eyes traveling up and down her body every couple seconds.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

What to bet... "Oh!" she said picking up the bag of trail mix to hold it up between them, "Winner gets the M&M's, and loser is stuck with the nuts," she finished, waving the bag back and forth and smiling brightly.

He got a gleaming look in his eyes and gave her small, downturned smile, "You're gonna lose," he said confidently.

"We'll see," she replied, raising her eyebrows in a challenging but lighthearted fashion.

He shakes his head obligingly, "Well, at least give me five minutes to prepare for humiliation."

"No problem, I have to use the bathroom anyways," she said, hoping off the counter and in the process sliding down his body, his hands instantly sliding around her waist, and is once again in her breathing (breathless) space. Must not get distracted.

She grinned lightly and slid her hands over his to remove them from her body. Her grin grew and she spun towards the hallway, stopping for a moment at the entrance, "You should probably find some tissues for when you lose," and flaunted out into the hallway towards the bathroom with his laughter in her wake.

She practically skipped through the open door, flipping the light switch on, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it's cool, wooden surface. Wow.

The Gilbert's downstairs bathroom was fairly large for a half-bath, it's main feature being the large framed mirror that covered the entire wall above the sink and toilet. She wasn't even sure she was looking at herself. Her face was desperately begging her to give the smiling a rest, but she was unable to wipe it off her aching cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, she made the few short steps towards the sink and leaned down against the granite counter top, staring at her elated face in the mirror. I'm really happy.

She wasn't some kind of perpetually mopey teenager; she'd certainly smiled and laughed a lot in her life, but never to this extent. This happiness spread across her body as if some warm liquid had been poured into her veins. Her eyes were brighter, and she was a hundred percent sure that if they could bottle this feeling everyone in the world would become incurably addicted, and they wouldn't even care. To be fair, she'd only tried pot, and that only once, but there was no way that any drugs captured this feeling.

Truly though, this was a drug in and of itself – she wanted to laugh and skip and yell at the top of her lungs, she was chock full of untapped energy, and she wanted more. More of everything: the touching, the laughing, the teasing, the kissing, just more.

"Okay, breath Bonnie," she said to her reflection only managing to keep a straight face for a few seconds before the smile broke out again, and to her surprise her eyes welled up with tears. She wasn't normally a crier, but figured it was alright to make an exception for happy tears. Happy tears – now there's something she'd never experienced before.

She'd always assumed the idea that crying made you weak; it made other people think that you were weak. When her mom left, and before she found out about Grams' powers and grown closer to her, it had basically just been her and her dad. He was not the 21st century man that was comfortable showing his vulnerable side, and not once in the past three years had they even mentioned her mom. Burying emotions to him was considered the proper way to deal with things. He always said "You wouldn't shove all your literal dirty laundry in someone's face, so why would you do it with your emotional laundry."

This weakness notion crept into her every day life, until she somehow ended up becoming so closed off that she had been practically estranged from her two best friends. Crying is for people who get killed off.

Yet here she was, tears on the verge of slipping down her face and she had never felt stronger. Emotionally certainly, but magically as well. That exhaustion she'd been carrying around in the past few months – no make that the last year – was being pushed out by this light in her core. When she closed her eyes to focus on her energy, she could see it – the pulsing, white-blue orb of light, that had dimmed considerably in recent months was now brighter than ever.

Grams had of course explained to her that her magic was as much a part of her as her heart or lungs, and if you took care of yourself, your body , and therefore magic, would respond positively. And with magic, she'd said, it was even more intertwined with her – responding acutely to shifts in emotion. When she was angry or frightened, her magic responded. She didn't know why she hadn't though of the possibility that being happy could affect her magic as well, and she felt silly for not realizing it earlier.

Wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, she knelt down to open the cupboard under the sink where she knew there were spare toothbrushes. The smiling was back.

Grabbing one of the pre-packaged, travel size toothbrush kits (which she's pretty sure were left over from a Halloween a few years back when Elena's parents had decided to be those parents) she brushed her teeth until she was minty fresh.

You're about to eat M&M's.

Oh...right. Well, still.

Smacking her lips, she got some water on her finger to even out the smudges in her eye make-up and smoothed out some tangles in her hair. She stepped back a bit and turned to look at the finished product.

"I do have great assets," she said giggling a bit, before the smile fell and she pointed at her reflection, "No! Puns are stupid, not funny, and I hate walnuts. No laughing!" She took a deep breath and muttered again to herself, "No laughing."

Exhale, "Yeah, good luck with that."

Exiting the bathroom, she slipped off her flats by the front door and walked back to the kitchen – but upon arrival found it empty.

"Hey, I'm in here," Jeremy called, turning back a bit from his place on the couch. She walked towards the living room and plopped down next to him on the well padded couch, folding her feet under her body. He had and empty envelope on his lap covered in his scrawling handwriting, but she couldn't make out anything specific.

"Alright, are you ready to have your mind blown?" he asked, prompting a few off topic and inappropriate thoughts to stream through her head. Get a grip!

She was fairly certain something dirty would pop out of her mouth if she dared open it, so she nodded instead and tried to think of things that wouldn't make her laugh.

"Okay, here we go," he started, folding one leg up on the couch to turn towards her more, and placing the bag of trail mix between them as if there was gold inside.

Deep breath, serious face.

"I was wondering why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me," he said, smiling expectantly at her, "Oh, come one that one's great!"

She smiled at his expression, and shook her head, "No laugh, but you have four more tries."

"What? When did that rule happen?"

"I just thought of it. It doesn't make much sense to go on and on and on and on an-"

"Alright, I get it," he laughed, then looked seriously down at his pun covered envelope, muttering about having to rearrange the order. "Round Two, now: I read a book about anti-gravity. It was impossible to put down," he raised his eyebrows hopefully towards her, but to no end.

She's sure her face was completely inscrutable, but on the inside she was desperately trying not to burst out laughing. It wasn't even that the puns were particularly funny (though she could admit that they were mildly amusing), but seeing him get so into this silly game was hilarious to her. He'd written them down in order, the way he'd laugh for half a second before turning towards her to try and catch her in the act – don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

"Alright, alright, I know the one," he said, smiling down at his paper and then looking at her and continued, "A hole had been found in the Nudist Colony's wall. The police are looking into it," and raised his arms triumphantly when she covered her mouth with her hand to cover her smile. The joke made her smile, but again the bubble of laughter that broke through was purely due to him smiling and raising his arms like he was Rocky.

Laughter from one of them perpetuated more from the other, and in a circle they went until Bonnie was laughing so hard that she snorted a bit on an inhale, which only caused both of them to laugh harder.

Laughter really is the best medicine, and she felt invincible; simply euphoric.

After what seemed like an hour, but must have been only ten minutes or so, their laughter died down until they were both sitting there grinning widely at each other.

She sighed in defeat, "Well, open it up – I've got some nuts to eat," which promptly sent them into another bout of giggles, but he managed to open up the bag and fishing out a handful of M&M's before handing the bag to her. She set it down on her leg, not looking forward to searching through all the cashews (ugh), almonds (ugh), and walnuts (double ugh) for the few peanuts. Sticking her hand in reluctantly, she looked up to see Jeremy slipping a delicious green M&M past his lips, and came up with a new, less walnut-filled plan.

It's called killing two birds with one stone.

So she shot forward to capture his lips with hers. He responded immediately by swinging his left arm along the back of the couch, and drawing his right hand up to cup her face and running his thumb against her cheekbone. Their lips broke apart slowly, and they just looked for a moment, both thinking how out of the blue this all was. Who would have ever though a year ago, even just six months ago, that she would be a breath's width away from Jeremy Gilbert's lips without CPR instructions running through her head.

She wouldn't have guessed this in a million years, but somehow that made it all the more important.

He kissed her softly again, and pulling away they both smiled tired smiles, the long exhausting day finally catching up to them. She let her eyes droop closed and rested her forehead in the crick of his neck, the side of his face brushing against hers, his steady breathe in her ear and his arm wrapped around her shoulders to pull her closer.

Warm.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded into his neck in response. She'd been hit with a quick and powerful wave of sleepiness, and barely registered their walk up to his room, him getting her some of Elena's spare pajamas – before she knew is she was curled up under warm, down blankets with slow breaths lulling her to sleep.

In the place between awake and sleep she felt the bed shift slightly, and she groggily pulled herself towards the heater.

At one point the heater whispered, "Goodnight Bonnie."


She was now fully awake and aware, the top of her nose and forehead pressed against the side of his t-shirt clad chest, right leg thrown over his waist, arm resting against his stomach. She hummed contently and moved her hand up to uncover her head, and the bright sun crept eagerly through the window, stinging her eyes for a moment before they were able to adjust.

Looking up, she saw Jeremy still fast asleep, his face relaxed and hair flying every which way. She pushed herself up the bed a bit, bringing the warmth of the covers with her, and situated herself so she was balanced precariously over his body.

If she had thought about any of the hundreds of romantic comedies Caroline had made her watch over the years, she might have seen the inevitable fall coming. However, she had no thoughts running through her head except He is really gorgeous, and Mmm, warm. So she didn't see the moment coming when her right hand slipped from it's place on the headboard, and her whole body fell directly on top of his, jerking him out of his sleep.

She tried to scramble up as fast as she could, "I'm so sorry! I obviously didn't fall on top of you on purpose...I'm so sorry for waking you up, and I hope I didn't bruise you – I think I might have hit you in the ribs with my elbow. And I'm kinda boney, and normally it's not a problem but it does make it difficult to land on top of someone without hitting them with someth-" and she cut herself off because she noticed that he was just looking up at her tiredly with an amused grin on his face.

"Well, that was a unique way to wake up," he laughed, and she tried not to get distracted when he stretched.

"I really am sorry," she said, calmer and much less rambley than before.

"It's really not a big deal – it may have hurt a bit more, but it was still a hundred times better that waking up by alarm clock," he grinned, and she smiled slowly in return, heart speeding up when he pulled her back to the position she'd fallen to. They were both still in a morning fog, and lazy smiles made their way across both their faces. Her body was splayed on top of his, with her elbows holding her up on either side of his head. One of his arms had wrapped around her waist, the other moved to her face to tuck a stray hair back.

"Morning," he said, his fingers now tracing the back of her neck.

She kissed him instead of replying, and by the enthusiastic response, she figured he didn't mind all that much.

There was a knocking noise.

"Jeremy?"

They looked at each other with wide eyes for a minute before quickly, yet reluctantly, abandoning the warmth of the bed to stand...and do what, exactly?

"That's Elena!" she whispered forcefully, "Why is she here, she's not supposed to be back till tomorrow night – and where are my clothes?" and when he laughed at the last comment, her gaze seemed to say something, and he went to the corner where her jeans and shirt were folded in a pile on his desk to hand them to her.

"I have no idea," he replied.

"Jeremy, are you there?" Elena's worried voice echoed through the door again.

"Yeah, Elena I'm here," he called back as he was pretending not to watch Bonnie change, though they both know he was. Whatever, it's no less than a bathing suit anyways.

"Can I come in?" she asked, and both Bonnie and Jeremy rushed to throw their weight against the opening door, as Elena had a habit of not understanding the concept of knocking and waiting for a reply.

"Uh, no you can't," he said as they both looked at each other with a combination of trepidation and excitement. The quick smirk he sent her let her know that he clearly agreed that sneaking around was kind of hot.

"Why not? Are you okay?" Elena said, as she tried to turn the doorknob again.

"I, uh, I-I'm...naked!" he finally exclaimed, and she sent him a questioning look, but he just pointed to the door -

Right in time for Elena to say, "Oh, ew, okay," and Bonnie laughed a bit at Elena's tone, "Well, get dressed, we need to go over to Stefan's. I'm gonna call Caroline and Bonnie to let them know to meet us there. Can you be ready in five minutes?"

"Yeah, okay," he said, and they listened to Elena's bathroom door close.

"Okay, you need to run downstairs right now and get my purse and shoes before she calls my phone," Bonnie said quickly, pushing him towards the other door.

"'Kay, I'll be right back," he said, silently opening the door and tiptoeing across the landing towards the stairs, and she'd stage whispered one last "Hurry!" before closing the door behind him and pacing back and forth.

It wasn't really that she thought Elena would react negatively to the development between her and Jeremy, but that she didn't think Elena would be excited, and the girl already had enough to deal with. Okay, maybe she was a little worried that Elena would hate her forever – she knew it wasn't a rational fear, as that's just not the type of person Elena is, but it was still in the back of her mind. Knowing it was irrational wasn't stopping it from being there though.

She heard the door open behind her, and Jeremy slipped through quickly, closing it shut behind him and handing her the purse just as her phone started vibrating. Dumping the ridiculous amount of stuff in her bag out onto Jeremy's bed, she spotted her phone immediately amongst the rubble and answered just in time.

"Hello?" she said, trying to keep her voice low enough so that Elena wouldn't hear her actual voice from the next room.

"Hey! It's me," Elena greeted.

"Hey! How's the cabin?" Bonnie asked, and sat down on the edge of the bed as she tried to discreetly watch as Jeremy pulled on some jeans and replaced his worn t-shirt with a clean one, all the while her brain was For the love of god, Bonnie, you're on the phone with his sister, who's just in the next room, and all you can do is...and first t-shirt off...yeah, never mind, watching's good.

"Booonnnie?" Elena's voice broke through her zone-out.

"Huh?"

"I said I'm not at the cabin, we came back early – and then I called your name five times," she explained, ending her statement with an implied question mark.

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted," and Jeremy, freshly t-shirted, looks at her with that look.

"Okay...anyways, it's kind of a long story and I'll tell you more later, but I'm calling because we're gonna meet over at Stefan's to talk about what you guys found out from Luka yesterday, and all the wolf drama Damon apparently went through. Me and Jer are gonna leave in a couple minutes, can you meet us there in like fifteen minutes?"

"Ummm..." she stalled, looking around the room for a moment before the lightbulb went off in her head, "I'm actually only a couple blocks away from your house, why don't I just come over now and I can ride with you?"

"Yeah that sounds fine, but why are you across town from your house at nine in the morning?" but as Bonnie was about to reply, Elena filled in her own answer, "Oh my god, did you meet someone?"

You have no idea, Elena.

"No – I just woke up early and wanted to get out of the house, so I went for a walk," she replied while re-cramming her pens and lipstick and lipgloss and various make-up tools and crumpled receipts and wallet and French Verb Book and is that a breath mint?

"Oh – well the version where you hook up is way more exciting, no offense," she said teasingly, and despite the weirdness of that statement in conjunction with reality, Bonnie gave her a little laugh before they said their goodbye's.

"So, what's the plan exactly?" Jeremy asked as she got up from his bed, bag slung over her shoulder, and slipped on her flats.

"You're going to help me climb out your window," she smiled at him, and turned towards his window to give a sharp upward tug to try and dislodge the old thing from it's frame, but no luck.

"Here, I got it," he offered, but she silently waived him off before closing her eyes for a few seconds. A wind blew through the room, and Bonnie opened her eyes and lifted the window up without so much as a squeak from the relic. She swung her bag out onto the porch cover, and turned to gesture him over to help her out the window to find him staring at her.

"What?" she smiled in question.

He shook his head, grinning, "Nothing – it's just, Caroline was totally right yesterday. It's super hot when you do that."

She looked into his deep eyes, and was once more overcome with that happy, addicting feeling. "Come over here and help me out," she said, that smile becoming a permanent fixture upon her face and he walked over to hold her arm as she swung over to the other side of the window frame.

"'Kay, just walk all the way to the left, and there's a super obvious tree you can climb down," he instructed as she looked behind her out onto the street, before quickly turning back and framing his face with her hands, her lips crashing into his.

She pulled away much too soon for either of them, but gave him a small smile and set out towards the designated tree. He was right about the tree being an easy climb, and she was safely on the ground after only a few seconds.

It was a beautiful day out.

She then trekked up the front porch steps and rang the door bell.

"Why hello there, Bonnie," Jeremy grinned as he opened the door for her, "Elena'll be down in a minute."

"Cool, thanks," she replied cautiously, as Jenna was sitting with her coffee and crossword puzzle only a few feet away in the living room.

"Hey, Bonnie," Jenna said, gesturing for Bonnie to join her on the sofa, so Bonnie sat next to her, Jeremy leaning against the oversized doorframe. "You have a good night?" she asked.

Bonnie nodded simply, "Yeah, it was alright," and she might have shared a quick knowing look with Jeremy, "You?"

"Could have been better," she said, and Elena came trundling down the stairs.

"Hey, you're here!" Elena greeted, and Bonnie stood as they all said quick goodbye's to Jenna before heading out to Elena's car, which they all piled in – Elena and Bonnie in the front, Jeremy in the back – and they were off.

Elena was strangely silent, and Bonnie was genuinely concerned about what exactly happened at the cabin that made them decide to come home early, but didn't think it would be any use to ask in front of Jeremy. So instead she flipped on the radio and stared out the window for the duration of the five minute drive.

They arrived at the boarding house, and Elena ran ahead after explaining she wanted to talk to Stefan for a bit first.

And then there were two.

"So," he started, "You have a good night?"

...What?

"...What? Jeremy what ar-" but stopped when he shook his head and raised his eyebrows towards the house. Oh, duh. Stupid vampire hearing.

"It was fine," she said, "How bout you?"

"Same," he replied. And they walked toward the house in silence.

Well, no one in there right mind would think anything of us if they over heard this, that's for sure.

Vampires couldn't see through walls though, so she's the only one who sees the heated smile he sends her way.

Her life was very strange, but it was the little moments like these that made it at all bearable.

Jeremy pushed open the large, wooden door and they both went through, crossing paths with Caroline, Stefan, Elena, and Damon, who were all coming from upstairs, and Stefan said something or other (sometimes she just doesn't pay attention), and everyone followed him into the living room, but Bonnie was stopped short by a grinning Caroline who said nothing but "That outfit looks familiar," with a knowing smirk, and flounced in after the rest of the gang.

She's sure she's going to be dragged out of her happy bubble the moment she goes in there, so she savors the feeling, and takes a deep breath.

It was a good night.


Things that happened while writing this fic: I Googled "where does flour come from", I learned the exact layout of the Gilbert kitchen and the height of the kitchen island, the words "sandwich" and "smile" started to look really weird, I re-watched 'Crying Wolf' just to see if Jeremy was wearing a belt, I learned that AXE is all capitalized, I tried to search "can you set a sandwich on fire" (not luck there), I discovered that when I type in "lightly" into my computer's Thesaurus the example sentence is "Hermione kissed his cheek lightly" and my computer is awesome because it reads Harry Potter. So clearly, I worked hard - and my only payment is your beloved reviews, so please, pay my poor self :)