A/N: I started re-reading Midnight again and thought that scene where Damon saved Bonnie from slavery in the dark dimension could have gone in a much deeper direction. This is a possible three-shot. Not intending for this to be long at all. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

The market really was no place for a vampire with his pedigree but Damon had some last minute errands to run as his way of saying thanks to M. le Princess Jessalyn for making him vampire again. He ran a pale white hand down the sleeve of his uniform and tuned out the cacophony that surrounded him. It was the same hogwash he was sure that happened day in and day out, people bartering for goods, people begging for a hand out.

Damon had to hop out of the way or he would have crashed into the back of two, what he supposed were noblemen. They were dressed in rich tunics of orange and red which naturally looked washed out because of the blood-red sun that hung in the sky.

Briefly he overheard their conversation.

"…there is even rumored to be a redheaded virgin among them."

"Been a fortnight since I've seen scarlet hair. Real scarlet hair," replied his companion.

Damon immediately froze, took a minute to pause as he shamefully remembered that he had abandoned Bonnie in an apartment housing that was really the slums if he wanted to be technical about it. Quickly in his mind he calculated how long he had left her there. It couldn't have been more than a few days, but he in essence got what he came back to the dark dimension for and saw no need to extend his stay. It was time to go get her.

He didn't bother looking around as he lifted from the ground and flew out of the marketplace amongst the disapproving gasps that followed in his wake.

When he arrived at the apartment to find it empty and Bonnie gone, furious with his own carelessness in leaving her unprotected, and pissed that the landlady had failed in what he generously paid her to do, Damon had no qualms about wrapping his hand around her neck.

"Where is she?" he demanded his eyes looking like black holes of death.

The landlady tried to explain herself but Damon was only half listening by this point. All she knew for sure was that Bonnie convinced her ninny of a nephew to let her go the bathroom alone, and then that was it. There had been no sign of her.

Damon dropped his hold on the old woman, still tempted to throttle her. But it was this question that really made Damon want to kick his own ass for his stupidity and his impertinence.

"If she's so valuable to you, why did you leave her here?"

Good question, he'd give her that but not one he'd give an answer to.

Dread entered his belly and Damon had a fairly good hunch on where he would find Bonnie and when he got there, depending on whatever condition he found her in, it would not be pretty.

They won't stop touching me. They won't stop touching me. Please, stop, played over and over again in a loop in Bonnie's mind as she stood before a large crowd all of them men or some variation of man as they greedily picked through the girls who had been wrangled off the streets. Bonnie had survived through her share of life and death situations, but this was different. This was a wholly different violation that would leave scars no one would be able to heal with pain killers, not even vampire blood.

She kept her face blank although on the inside she was falling apart like puzzle pieces. All Bonnie wanted was a moment alone to think and retrace her steps to find out exactly how she got to this place. She could blame her moment of weakness on the star balls Damon had left behind to offer up some form of entertainment. Now she wished she hadn't sat there and played those stories out and gotten a hankering for a sugar plum, and left the faux safety of the apartment. She wouldn't be standing in front of this crowd in a gown so sheer that there wasn't a secret left to hide.

With her arms she tried her best to conceal her smallish breasts and of course that triangle of red curls and she tried her best not to have a psychotic break which she suspected was already happening. This crowd of ruffians apparently were used to seeing half naked to fully naked girls and really didn't pay much attention to that, but what they appeared to be obsessed with was her skin and her hair.

When she first got to this massive slave warehouse, blood hounds with red eyes sniffed each, individual girl and if the mutt tapped its foot on the pavement three times the girl was thrust out of line and ushered off to another part of the building. Naturally when the hound reached Bonnie and tapped its paw, she felt all the blood in her body drain away. Bonnie was shackled and manhandled to another part of the building and she wondered if she'd be cast into a large fire for being defective or whatever the inspection was about, or if she'd be eaten by an oversized owl.

Her feet carried her despite the fact all she wanted to do was faint. The scent of perfume was heavy in the air that it made her sneeze.

Bonnie was pulled inside what she could only describe as some industrial sized wash room. Girls in various states of nudity where being scrubbed until their pale skin glowed and then ushered down the assembly line where they were dried and oil was rubbed into their skin.

Her clothes were stripped and she allowed herself one scream of mortification as she was violated with a rough scrub brush.

Constantly she shouted for Damon, cursed Damon, plead with Damon to come and rip the ceiling off this place and rescue her from whatever fate had planned for her next. Nothing but silence followed and after awhile her "mental" voice was beginning to sound hoarse and she just gave up.

She was beyond terrified, there really was no word to describe how Bonnie felt. She thought constantly of what Elena and Meredith would do if they were here. First of all, Elena and Meredith wouldn't have allowed themselves to be put in this situation to begin with. Bonnie moved her thoughts along because she felt her hysteria bubbling right under the surface.

More than likely Elena would have found an ally, a girl who was just as fed up with this treatment and the two of them would have led a raid, and Elena would have freed everyone with the promise to get revenge on those who sold them off as property. That's what her brave, do-gooder friend would have done, but Bonnie realized one terrifying fact.

She wasn't Elena. And she couldn't lead a rebellion.

Bonnie perked up a tiny bit when she reached the clothes part of the assembly line. Some of the dresses she saw were mostly togas and they were beautiful if not a little rundown, which this told her they were second probably third hand dresses. They were nothing like the gowns that Lady Ulma had designed for her.

Again, her throat grew tight. Damon could have easily snuck her to Lady Ulma's where at least she would have been safe, comfortable, and living in the lap of luxury. But no, he was only focused on himself, did the best he could by her—in his mind at least, and whatever he had gone off to do he took her ring so she paid for his little "vacation". He owed her several explanations and several apologies.

Bonnie's eyes searched through the racks and she came to the startling realization that the gowns only came in three colors and one style: white, off white, and beige, and diaphanously sheer. Was she going to be given undergarments?

Her panic renewed and this time she allowed her face to show just exactly how terrified she was as fat, demanding tears ran down her molten cheeks.

"I think we got a runner," said one of the brusque maids or whatever the female body builders were supposed to be.

Bonnie was poked hard on the shoulder as she stepped into the area where a gown was selected for her. It was a beige A-line number that left her shoulders exposed, but tied around her neck, and was cinched at her waist with a wry piece of gold metal. It was long and covered up her feet with fabric left over to pool around her. Her cheeks reddened because essentially you could see everything in the right shade of light.

She was pushed to the makeup station where she was powered and covered with gunk so thick she began to feel like a plastic doll. Her hair was twisted into something of an elaborate updo leaving her neck exposed, and finally she was sprayed with enough perfume that if a mosquito decided to make a meal out of her, it would die of poisoning.

All of that had taken place maybe an hour ago. Bonnie had been lined up with the other chosen females and wondered what was it about them that made them so "special".

Well, it didn't take Bonnie long to figure that out. As she discreetly looked down the line at the other twenty or so girls, they all kind of looked like her. Frail, terrified of the world and their shadow, trembling and trying their best to remain brave when all they wanted to do was faint. Completely and totally innocent.

Oh, God, Bonnie said mentally as two steel doors were opened and an influx of men entered the place. Her female handlers from earlier barred the way from the men instantly coming up to the girls to select the ones they wanted.

Bonnie didn't listen to the speech or she should say list of rules that were given. All she really kept paying attention to was the fact if it weren't for the flimsy gown she'd be standing before these men completely naked. If it weren't for the fact she couldn't feel her legs she would have been a puddle on the floor.

Bids were thrown out and the two men who called the number first where then left to barter amongst themselves for whichever girl was up for sale.

The bile rose in the back of Bonnie's throat since she was almost next to last in line. This bought her sometime and if and that was a pretty big if Damon was looking for her, he'd get here before the men turned their lust filled eyes on her.

He interrogated the shop owner who sneered and said he had been well within his rights to stun Bonnie and report her as a runaway slave and was completely unapologetic for his actions. Damon hunted the streets for an informant desperate to find out where a girl like Bonnie might be taken to get auctioned off.

It sounded so…archaic when he thought of what could potentially be happening to Bonnie right this second as he stood on the street corner in his handsome uniform trying to assert his authority.

Damon found a creature that kept its eyes to the ground but its ears on everything around it. He pulled the man by his moth eaten cloak and flashed his canines.

"If you want to live to see tomorrow I need you to tell me everything you know about virgins being sold."

The man hemmed and hawed and finally coughed up the details. The location of those "special" sales changed bi-weekly but was typically held in one of two places. Damon curtly nodded his hand and threw a handful of coins at the creature before he was off again.

The first place he checked was naturally empty and unfortunately Damon had to kill a group of vagabonds that attempted to mug him. That helped ebb some of his frustrations and aggression but probably cost him some time. Grunting he headed to the other location where he heard the cackling sounds of men who didn't know what was coming for them.

Damon entered the warehouse and pushed his way to the front. He ignored the names that were thrown at his back because he had one simple goal in mind.

However, when he reached that goal and his eyes zeroed in on Bonnie and more to the matter the men touching Bonnie and that empty, helpless expressionless expression on her face as if she were no longer living inside her own body, Damon snapped. He snapped even more when he realized she stood before the peasants in a gown so sheer no woman unless she was a prostitute would ever wear. He could see everything! And if he could see, they could see.

His grits was cooked!

Damon's elbows smashed into noses, breaking them causing blood to spurt in the air. Limbs were pulled from sockets, heads literally rolled, blood coated nearly everything and he hadn't even gotten started yet. Those who put their filthy, grubby hands on Bonnie got it the worst.

Ogres came left from right to stop him and the assault he was leading, but Damon was simply too far gone in madness in his bloodlust to realize he probably just put Bonnie in more danger. But he couldn't let those curs touch her, defile her, take her innocence away, not while he still had life in his body.

Damon had some authority here. He was the chief guard of M. le Princess Jessalyn although technically Bonnie wasn't her slave, and she wasn't his either but they didn't need to know that. They would have to let her go.

He reached for Bonnie after letting out a snarl so feral that it silenced the madness that ensued as a result of his attack.

"She is mine and if you dare touch her consider your life forfeit!" he warned menacingly.

Bonnie felt arms like steel bands wrap around her and pull her off the platform she stood on. Her eyes remained blank and Damon felt horror squeeze his heart. He had no idea what could have been done to her and what she just narrowly escaped though he was smart enough to figure it out.

"I am so sorry, red bird," he said into the shell of her ear fully prepared to fly out of this place, but the female handlers pulled out stun guns aimed right for his head and nuts.

"She's the property of this sector now, vampire. Let her go."

Damon graced them with his award-winning smile before he blasted the entire place with enough power it knocked those who had remained standing to the ground. In less than a nanosecond he was gone and had a heroic thought of burning the entire building to the ground but there was no need for the other maidens still trapped inside to die because of his impulsiveness.

There was only one safe place in this entire F-ed up dimension Damon could think to take Bonnie to. He headed towards the upper crust of this backwoods place, Lady Ulma's.

Vaguely Bonnie was aware of the fact that she was in Damon's arms and he was flying across the dark dimension. If she were still sane she would have taken the time to appreciate how romantic this moment was, but instead Bonnie was trapped inside that special place where no one and nothing could hurt her.

Damon repeatedly tried to speak to her but Bonnie said nothing. He even reached out to her mind via telepathy and ran into nothing but walls.

He cursed inwardly wondering how much damage had been done to her psyche all because of him.

Damon arrived at the gate at Lady Ulma's, pressed the buzzer to garner her security person's attention and waited impatiently. His eyes constantly checked Bonnie for any sign or flicker of recognition that she was safe and the worst was over.

Her face remained blank.

"Yes?" a disinterested voice asked.

"This is Damon Salvatore friend of your Mistress tell her to open the gate. I have someone in need of…medical attention."

Damon found himself waiting longer than he expected to wait before he heard Lady Ulma's voice over the intercom.

"Is this really Damon?"

"Yes, Lady Ulma. I have Bonnie with me and well she's not good. May we have sanctuary here?"

"Yes! Of course!" the woman replied hastily and then the gates were parted and Damon stormed up to the front door which was thrown open.

Damon stood in the foyer and ignored the opulence of this place. Things had changed little since the last time he was here. He zapped his eyes to Lady Ulma as she rushed from some part of the house, two maids and a manservant following close behind her.

Panic and fear washed over the distinguished lady's face. "What happened to her?" her eyes ran over Bonnie and she noticed the attire and the bands wrapped around Bonnie's wrists identifying her as a slave.

"Take those off of her," Lady Ulma demanded. Damon didn't trust Bonnie's legs to hold her up so he lowered them both to the floor where he easily snapped off the plastic bands. He had hoped that would kick start something in Bonnie, stir something but it didn't.

"Godfrey," Lady Ulma addressed the manservant, "please show Mr. Salvatore to the washroom. Ladies," she gestured with her hands for them to take Bonnie into their custody.

Damon shot up to his feet, still cradling Bonnie. "No, I'll carry her. Just show me the way."

The maids lowered their eyes and briskly showed Damon upstairs to a large bathroom that reminded him of the Sistine Chapel. He held Bonnie as the two women feverishly ran around the room collecting towels, robes, bath gels, and other tonics as they turned on the faucet to the huge tub centered in the middle of the room.

They lit candles and then called for two musicians to come. He thought Bonnie would like the atmosphere and she'd slowly begin to defrost. He sat down with her on a chaise as the two women continued to fuss around in the back.

"You're safe, Bonnie. It's okay. You can relax now," he told her soothingly.

Bonnie didn't blink or utter a single syllable. Inwardly, Damon sighed and figured he'd give her just a little more time.

He understood perfectly that Bonnie was the easily frightened type. He could only imagine the horrors she cooked up inside that beautiful brain of hers of what she might be forced to do if she had been sold as a slave. Just thinking about the kind of man who would show an interest in Bonnie and what he might have her do made Damon want to kill again.

One of the maids stood before Damon and curtsied. "The bath is prepared," she said.

Damon stood and lowered Bonnie's legs to the ground. Surprisingly she didn't topple over, but remained stoic on her feet. He turned his eyes away as the ladies began to undress her, and he didn't turn back to look until Bonnie was submerged chin deep in water and bubbles.

With her in safe hands Damon wanted his own shower. His uniform was caked in entrails and well it kind of ruined the whole look.

The manservant, Godfrey had remained outside of the door waiting for him. He showed Damon to his sleeping quarters and before Damon dismissed him, he requested that Bonnie be placed in the room across from his.

Damon found a closet full of clothes—black clothes—all the pieces adequate enough to get him through the next few days. He sat down on the edge of the bed glad he didn't feel adrenaline the way humans did or his limbs would have been shaking uncontrollably. When he closed his obsidian eyes all he saw were those men and their hungry stares and their disgusting hands touching Bonnie.

His gums throbbed as the base part of him wanted to go out, seek, search, and destroy, but Damon had killed enough. He was sure he had assassinated a few nobles and was fairly certain he was now a fugitive. He'd have to keep a low profile. But there was no way he was going to pay any kind of reparations. He had been merciful not to do what he initially wanted to do.

Damon rose from the bed again. This kind of thinking would only serve to upset him more and set him back. His main focus should be on reaching out to Bonnie, bringing her back from that dark place.

He disrobed and entered the luxurious bathroom and took a shower. Blood didn't always easily wash off skin and Damon found himself scrubbing until he was sure he had removed a few layers of his flesh. As the water grew tepid he stepped out, toweled himself dry yet discovered he couldn't look himself in the eye.

Damon had been selfish quite possibly his entire life. Today had only been such a glaringly obvious testament of that fact. He wanted to be a vampire. He wanted to make himself good enough for Elena again. He didn't want to be vulnerable to his enemies. He needed vampirism because being a human was worst than being dead. And he didn't care who got in his way because he had plans.

If the events that happened today had happened say a few months ago, he probably would have left Bonnie to the masses and whistled his way back to earth, back to Fell's Church. But he couldn't do that now. Bonnie was delicate, fragile but also strong. Stronger than she had given herself credit for and it was a strength he often mocked, took advantage of, and took for granted. He could only guess at what she might be feeling or thinking, and none of it made him feel any better about himself. Well, he had an eternity to make it up to her, that is, if he could reach her.

Damon dressed and bounded down the hall where Bonnie was just coming out of her bath wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe, her red hair tied up in a towel, warm slippers on her feet, that blank expression on her face. He sighed almost dejectedly and followed her in the bedroom which was right across from his.

The maids pulled the drapes back to allow the sunlight to filter in the room but all it did was cast everything into a maroon haze.

Bonnie sat down on the edge of the bed and kept her eyes planted on nothingness.

Damon heard Lady Ulma approaching and she was wheeling something into a room. It was a rack full of gaudy and casual dresses. Several of her jewelry making apprentices followed after her carrying one ornate box after the next. Damon could only guess at the treasures that laid inside.

"Bonnie, my dear I made these dresses just for you in the off chance you might find yourself back here. I wish it had been under much better circumstances but…"

Bonnie didn't even glance at the rack.

Lady Ulma flashed her eyes towards Damon who hunched a shoulder. "Let me have a moment with her," he said dismissing everyone from the room.

Damon didn't move from his spot until the double doors closed behind him. He headed over to the rack and inspected the choices. Lady Ulma knew how to design to bring out a woman's best features.

All of the dresses had been cut and tailored to make Bonnie's slight body look fuller and more womanly than it presently was. And each of them had a wild design that he was sure would compliment Bonnie's red hair and pale skin. Damon selected a simple yet elegant turquoise sheath. He went over to the jewelry boxes that had been placed on the vanity counter and rifled through them until he found gold hope earrings and an elegant wreath necklace that was inlaid with pearls and turquoise stones.

"I think this will look beautiful on you," he laid the dress out on the bed and placed the jewelry down right next to it.

Bonnie didn't even turn around to see what he had selected.

He sat down beside her and reached for her hand. Her skin was warm but her fingertips were chilly. "Bonnie, please talk to me."

Her head shifted just a bit in his direction as if she recognized his voice but wasn't sure if it was him. This spurred Damon on. "Please, love. Scold me! Condemn me to hell, do something."

"I…" Bonnie croaked.

Damon licked his lips. "Yes?"

She sighed and her shoulders slumped. Bonnie fell back against the bed and curled herself into a ball. "Leave," she whispered.

He wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly or not. So when he reached out to touch her shoulder and Bonnie jerked away from him, Damon got the message this time and left.

Bonnie's indifferent attitude continued for three days. She would get dressed in the lavish gowns that Lady Ulma had made, joined her and Damon downstairs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, walked through the gardens by herself, yet she refused to utter a single word.

Not knowing what was going through her mind was driving him to the brink of schizophrenia. Damon tempered himself when Bonnie came down to dinner dressed in a white one shouldered gown that swept the floor when she walked. Her face was pale without makeup, made even more startling by her deep red hair, yet for some strange reason he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her lips were tinted with just a hint and he did mean hint of color, and some of the brilliant brown color had returned her eyes.

Godfrey pulled out Bonnie's chair at the table and she murmured, "Thank you."

Lady Ulma and her husband perked up that Bonnie finally said something. Their optimistic eyes found Damon's at the other end of the table who sat with his legs crossed watching Bonnie carefully.

She ate methodically. Placing food in her mouth, chewing exactly twenty-seven times before swallowing. She did this until her plate was empty and Godfrey quickly swept it away.

Lady Ulma and her husband engaged in conversation and tried to draw Bonnie into it but she'd merely stared at them blankly, maybe kind of smiled or something she did with her face, but that was it. She didn't speak.

Damon bit his lips to keep from snapping and exploding at her. She had been right when he scolded her back in that alley after their arrival in the dark dimension, that he should be nicer to her because it was his fault she was drunk and out of it. It was his fault again for her catatonic state.

What happened to her?

"Are you going to walk in the garden today, Bonnie?" Lady Ulma asked.

Bonnie nodded her head and then rose from the table to do just that.

"I don't know if she'll ever snap out of this, Mr. Salvatore," Lady Ulma lamented. "Do you think she was…"

Damon bashed his hand on the table jostling the tea cups, silverware, and plates. He abruptly rose from his seat and vanished from the room. He couldn't allow his thoughts to go to that dark place because if they did, everyone and he did mean everyone in the dark dimension would be dead by morning.

The house was silent. Bonnie was pressing her luck especially being in the room across from Damon's, but she knew he often left the house at dusk to hunt, and though she didn't want to think about him drinking from another pretty neck, she realized she owed him nothing.

Very tentatively she opened her bedroom door in small increments. Earlier she listened carefully as the servants entered and exited her bedroom to see if the hinges squeaked. They didn't they were well oiled but Damon had bionic hearing and he would pick up the most minute sound, and he'd be there to foil her plan.

Standing in her bare feet, Bonnie slipped out of her bedroom and left the door open. It would have been too much of a risk to try to close it after her.

The house was dark but with the sun hanging low in the sky and because the estate was outfitted with floor-to-ceiling windows enough light illuminated her path. The darkness no longer terrified her. In the back of her mind Bonnie knew she was safe behind these walls, but always, always something managed to hide itself in a tiny corner, jump out and yell Boo at her.

She entered the parlor, headed for a table decorated with cups, cutlery and a whole bunch of other stuff. Bonnie picked up a paring knife and headed over to the French double doors. She was far enough into the house that if Damon heard her open the door he might ignore it and brush it off as one of the servants moving around. If he was even here to begin with.

Her eyes stared up at that sun. The sun that never set. How people could stand it was beyond her and in a few minutes she'd never have to see it again.

Bonnie sighed and stared down at her wrists. She had been manhandled it felt almost her entire life, but here it had been kicked up a notch. She had been nearly sold into slavery and finally…her body had been violated with touches she did not want. But that wasn't even the worst part, the worst part was she had been left to fend for herself by the man—nope vampire—that she loved.

Bonnie couldn't pinpoint when she might have fallen in love with Damon Salvatore. It might have happened the first night they met and he kissed her. It might have been when he saved her life after she had been pumped full of resin. It might have been when she watched him dance the waltz with her best friend despite the fact Elena was already in love with someone else at the time.

Yet she knew this one thing for sure, Damon didn't love or respect her for that matter. And he put her in a position to be caught and have unspeakable horrors done to her.

She lowered her eyes to her wrist again and held the paring knife against her skin. Did she really want to do this? Ending her life because someone was mean to her seemed like a lame excuse to off herself, but if they didn't make it out of this place in the next few days, those who had a bounty on Damon's head would find them and she'd be dead or worse.

"What are you doing?" a voice from the shadows demanded.

Bonnie gasped and dropped the knife with an audible clang against the marble floor. She whirled around and saw Damon standing in the far corner of the room. His button down shirt was open revealing only a sample of his ripped chest, abdomen, and milk-white skin.

She immediately snapped her jaws shut as her chest rose and fell in quick succession.

Damon stepped out of the shadows. "I asked what you were doing because it looked like what I think you were about to do. Now correct me if I'm wrong, please."

The ice she heard in his voice made her shiver. She couldn't answer him because there was no explanation—not a very good one—about what she had been attempting to do.

He was on top of her staring at her balefully until his gaze softened. Damon picked up the paring knife and placed it back on the table.

Bonnie stepped back from him because he had been standing too close to her. Her tear ducts were becoming active and her tears her rolling in torrents down her cheeks.

Damon smelled the saline in the air and jerked his head towards her. He reached to cup her inflamed cheek but Bonnie dodged out of the way and attempted to side step him, but he was quicker and blocked the exit.

With her eyes she begged for him to move but he refused with a glare of his own. "You're going to talk to me, Bonnie. But not here."

He took her by the hand and flashed the both of them up to her bedroom where he shut the door. Bonnie walked to the center of her room and folded her arms over her chest.

"You're upset with me. I don't need telepathy to know that. You feel abandoned and I did abandon you, but you weren't supposed to come with me, Bonnie. You were supposed to remain in Fell's Church," he sighed. "I had to do the best I could with the limited amount of time and funds that I had."

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Hit me, slap me, or kick me. Do something to show you're angry at me because taking your life is the coward's way out and I know you better than that."

"Get out of my room, Damon."

He raised his hands in the air dramatically. "She speaks!"

Bonnie's face darkened into a snarl that made him proud. "Do not come in my room and make fun of me. I don't want to see your face again. You make me sick!"

Damon felt like he had been punched. He hadn't expected that. Maybe her cold silence was better than blatantly hostile honesty.

But if she would only speak to him when she was pissed perhaps he should ruffle her feathers some more. "Stop being a victim, Bonnie. Nothing was done to you," he didn't think. "And I avenged you well enough. So much that I might have to face judgment."

Bonnie plopped down on the edge of the bed. "I simply love how you make everything into something about you. Ever since I met you it's been nothing but one long procession of 'my revenge', 'my search for a princess of darkness', me, me, me. Well screeewwww you!"

Damon didn't think his eyes could get any bigger, but they did. "Excuse me?" he said coldly. "Have you gone mad and forgotten who you're addressing?"

Bonnie shot up from the bed, eyes blazing. Damon actually took a step back.

"I know exactly who I'm addressing," she mimicked his accent. "But I don't think you've stopped to think who you're talking to," she poked him in the chest, which only served to hurt her finger. "I've taken a lot of crap from you, Damon, but not anymore. My life might not have the same value to you that Elena's does, but its still life. And everything could have been taken from me, Damon. Everything."

Her sob escaped and it was successful in making Damon feel like a bastard.

Tiny fingers furiously wiped the tears that wouldn't stop spilling out of her eyes. "Yes, it's my fault for clinging on to you when you opened the door. But to leave me there in that place knowing my history of getting into trouble, you should have known something would happen. You never would have done that to Elena. You wouldn't dream of leaving her someplace you know she wouldn't approve of and go off with a semi-promise to return. But you left me, abandoned me and I got caught…and they…urgh just GET OUT!"

With every sentence spoken it was becoming harder for Damon to maintain eye contact. Bonnie was right. He never would have treated Elena that way. She would have demanded to go with him, and he would have given in. What made the situation even more twisted was he had thought of Elena while he was wooing Jessalyn although the vampire princess reminded him of Bonnie. If Damon didn't know it then, he knew it now, he had issues.

That hard shell of his broke again. "Why were you going to take your life, Bonnie?"

She stuttered. "I wasn't going to do it. I…think. Look just leave. I'm tired."

Damon shook his head. "You're not tired. You went through a horrible ordeal, you need to talk about it."

Bonnie snorted sardonically. "Are you going to psychoanalyze me now? Are you going to have Lady Ulma hide all the sharp utensils?"

"If I have to, yes," he bit out. "What was done to you?"

Her nostrils flared. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't fight me, my little red bird."

Her hand flew towards his face without her permission and met its target. "Don't call me that."

Okay, Damon could count on one hand the number of times he had been slapped in his entire life. His lips pulled back from his teeth because the blow had been sufficient enough to turn his head.

Bonnie gasped, ignoring the sting and fire in her hand. It was a miracle she hadn't broken anything. "Damon…I'm…"

He stepped forward catching her by the arms. Bonnie yelped. Yep, she was about to die.

Damon wasn't really sure what he was going to do. His first action would be of course to sink his fangs into her delicate neck, but he couldn't do that to Bonnie. She had suffered humiliation because of him, became partly catatonic for days on end, and now she was essentially beating him up.

Her heart was beating rapidly and she was losing feeling in her legs and her head was beginning to feel several sizes too big. Damon's eyes were smoldering to the point Bonnie fully expected to see smoke coming out of them.

Unconsciously her eyes dropped to his lips and she wet her own. It wouldn't be that bad of a thing if he gave her a farewell kiss before killing her, right?

Damon read the intention on Bonnie's face. He loosened his grip on her arms and Bonnie took advantage of it. She gripped him as tightly by the back of his neck as she could, pulled him forward and locked lips with this immortal. Her fingers tunneled into his jet black hair, hair as soft as fur and she kissed Damon with every fiber of her being.

They had shared kisses in the past but they were tame compared to this and completely passion free. There was nothing innocent about this kiss, certainly not the way Bonnie thrust her tongue in his mouth, and certainly not the way Damon massaged hers with his.

Damon backed up her up towards the bed until she collapsed on it. Bonnie scooted backwards until she reached the massive headboard, never breaking their kiss. Her lungs were screaming for air but she refused to cave in. If she stopped kissing him, he might realize what he was doing, get up, and leave.

Damon tore his shirt off and then searched for the zipper of Bonnie's dress. They really needed to put the brakes on what they were doing and think about what they were doing. But whatever part of him that was still noble said he was doing this because he didn't want Bonnie to feel afraid or that her life didn't matter to hm.

In hindsight he should have just said that, but he knew actions spoke louder than words.

Bonnie finally broke the kiss to take in a much needed breath of air. Her nose brushed against Damon's and she stared up into his eyes. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and that's where she became consciously aware of his state of undress.

She traced his lower lip with her finger.

Damon needed her to reprimand him and tell him to go back to his own room. Now! Because if she didn't in the next five seconds he'd go back to kissing her and he might not stop there.

Bonnie nipped his lips starting the frenzy all over again. There was no turning back now.

The morning rays woke Damon from sleep. He turned his head away from the intrusive light where they crashed into a naked back of creamy skin. Memories of last night flooded him, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat.

Damon shot into a sitting position and stared at Bonnie, hair disheveled against the ivory satin pillows, the sheet barely covering her, a look of pure contentment marring her young face.

Ye gods, he thought and buried his hands in his hair. He royally messed up. Damon's intention was to take the memory away of her brief time being enslaved, and replace it with new ones, better ones but he took things too far, and Bonnie granted him too many liberties. Damon loathed men who took advantage of damaged maidens for their own gain. Well he took Bonnie's maidenhead and no amount of vampire blood was going to replace that.

Damon sat there contemplating killing himself otherwise Stefan, Elena, Meredith—especially Meredith, and Mutt would do the deed for him if they ever found out.

Bonnie remained motionless on the bed even as he climbed out of it in search of his clothes. Damon slipped on his pants and he was buttoning up his shirt when Bonnie stirred. He instantly stopped moving.

The spot behind her felt empty and Bonnie sensed that someone was moving around her room. She opened her eyes, leaned up in bed, adjusting the sheet to cover her chest when she saw Damon fully dressed.

What had turned out to be one of the greatest nights of her life was slowly dissolving into another nightmare. He was going to do the walk of shame back to his room because he couldn't stand the thought of waking up beside her.

Her chin quivered but Bonnie sucked it up and pulled on what was left of her dignity. She wouldn't make Damon stay if he didn't want to.

He knew he was giving Bonnie the wrong impression, that he regretted what happened between them. That couldn't have been farther from the truth, however, he didn't think he was brave enough to face her newly changed feelings towards him. There he goes again, turning something that happened to someone else into something about him.

"Good morning," he said cheerily enough. "I have an errand to run and I was hoping I'd be back before you awakened."

Bonnie knew a lie when she heard one. "Oh," she said and that was all she was going to say.

Feeling awkward which was unusual for him, Damon approached the bed, tilted Bonnie's head up by the chin and kissed her soundly on the lips.

She sighed a little in pleasure, placated for the moment.

"I'll be back so we can have lunch together."

"Okay," she replied.

Damon walked backwards out of the room, keeping his eyes on her until he slipped out into the hall. He entered his bedroom and closed the door, and thud his head against it.

"You are such a fool, Damon."

Alone, Bonnie laid back against the pillows feeling the burning sensation of having made love for the first time between her legs as she cried herself back to sleep.

Chapter end.

A/N: I wanted to be a little more descriptive with the love scene but I'm trying to keep this at a certain rating. If you liked this, let me know. But thank you again for taking a chance on this.