[fic] The (Less Than) Fabulous (Undead) Adventures Of Bonnie Bennett (And Friends)
Title: The (Less Than) Fabulous (Undead) Adventures Of Bonnie Bennett (And Friends)
Author:
garnetice
Pairing: Canon pairings mentioned, with a mentioned side of Alaric/Damon
Rating: K
Word Count: 1,986
Warnings: Spoilers for the most recent season finale of TVD
Summary: Bonnie just wants to haunt Klaus. She probably shouldn't have brought Lexi and Alaric with her.
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries, oddly enough, is not mine.
Author's Notes: I honestly have no excuses.
---
“Alaric, stop crying. I’m trying to focus.”
“M’not crying,” Alaric mumbles, a flash of movement in Bonnie’s peripheral vision. He wipes at what evidently aren’t tears.
Wuss.
Bonnie zeroes in the book balanced precariously against the mahogany end table. One more push. That’s all she needs. One more push and-
Elijah sweeps the text up in his arms, wearing the pleased little smile that he only gets around literature and the psychotic lady-vamps he deigns to love. “War and Peace. Advanced reading, brother.”
Klaus ignores him in favor of sipping from his crystal brandy snifter, clutched like a lifeline in his hand. Unhelpfully, Lexi approaches his flank, watching with bated breath while Klaus swallows.
She does not manage to muffle a longing moan. Alaric sniffles. Bonnie sighs. All three sounds go unnoticed by the vampires in the room.
Being dead blows.
After her untimely demise, Bonnie found herself at a loss. What is a young, pretty, supernatural girl to do with themselves once the end has come and gone?
There aren’t many options behind the Veil. No burgers. No school. The sole radio stations available are those flicked on by the living, and Bonnie’s never much been into the tractor-loving anthems of the South. She grudgingly gave into some friend-stalking impulses at one point, but Elena, Matt, and Caroline were a little busy giving nudity a try. Bonnie was super glad they’d all found or reunited with their true loves for the summer. She just had a vested interest in never, ever, ever seeing her best friends naked again. So she proceeded to play guardian
angel for Jeremy for a few weeks.
That only served to make her sad.
Failed by the living, Bonnie retreated back into the minimalist wonders of the Veil for family time. Or, she attempted to. Listening to her Grams lecture about the evils of black magic only held up for so long. She signed up for freaky-creature purgatory, not actualfax hell. Besides, her Grams appeared to have met a nice Mister on this side, and if there was anything worse than seeing Tyler Lockwood’s scrotum, it was a full frontal view of ass she was related to. Ugh.
Sticking around Mystic Falls was looking more and more like the worst possible course of action if Bonnie wanted to keep hold of her sanity.
She didn’t want to be an eye-witness to anyone’s sexscapades. She definitely didn’t want to watch Jeremy grow up and fall in love with anyone else. Bonnie wanted something different. She wanted closure.
The way she figured, the vast majority of the bad things that had happened to her in the past few years involved vampires. In fact, she could source most of it back to one vampire, in particular.
Klaus.
Niklaus Mikaelson and his brood of awful siblings took Elena’s life from her. They forced Bonnie to do violate every witchy rule she’d been taught. They were the reason her nature-based magic deserted her. If it wasn’t for them - him - Bonnie never would have resorted to Expression. She wouldn’t have died.
Jeremy probably wouldn’t be alive, either, but that doesn’t matter now. What matters, the only truly relevant thing, is that Klaus is getting off scot-free for everything he’s ever done. He gets to pack up and move down to New Orleans, skipping along rainbows and sucking the town dry while he and his werewolf not-so-beloved are expecting what is very likely the Anti-Christ, with no repercussions.
Not on Bonnie’s watch.
The second Klaus moved back to the Big Easy, Bonnie followed, sparing only a few moments to grab Alaric - it was weird, watching him spy on Damon, verging on the point of creepy - and Lexi, who seemed like a nice enough girl for all her fangs. If anyone begrudged the Originals as much as Bonnie did, she assumed it would be them, the man who lost his life to their agenda and the woman who watched her best friend be tortured by it. Bonnie thought they’d help with the haunting.
They are not helping.
Lexi misses alcohol so much that she stares longingly at anyone drinking within a five mile radius. Drool is involved, and Bonnie is really sick of dragging her off Bourbon Street. Meanwhile, she’s beginning to entertain the sneaking suspicion that Ric and Damon used to be involved in a way that probably didn’t require clothes. The first time he broke down and professed to missing the eldest Salvatore, she managed to brush it off. The fiftieth time roused her suspicions. Now she’d mostly just like Mopey McMoperson to shut up so that she can concentrate on giving Klaus torment he so rightly deserves.
If only she were better at this poltergeist thing.
Elijah and Klaus bicker over every trivial thing they can think of, which as far as Bonnie can tell, defines their dynamic. It stopped being cute somewhere around the time Elijah announced he wanted a puppy and Klaus described the myriad ways he’d accidentally murder the accursed, theoretical thing. Klaus is nothing if not creative. Bonnie can tell they’re about to get into another round of it when Elijah proclaims,
“We should buy a gift for Hayley,” and Klaus’s eyes bug out of his head.
His grip on his snifter gets a little loose. Bonnie settles in to work her ghostly way on this new opportunity.
“Why would we do that?”
Sensibly, Elijah declares, “She will need things. For the child, you understand.”
Klaus snarls under his breath, muttering expletives. Lexi’s mouth is practically pressed to the brandy glass. Bonnie clenches her fists and concentrates harder.
“We should go back to Mystic Falls,” Alaric says. “Damon needs me. I can feel it.”
Bonnie grits her teeth. “Last time I checked, you weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider.”
“Your hostility is showing.” Alaric props his face on one hand and says, “Is this about Jeremy? It’s about Jeremy, isn’t it?”
In the real world, Elijah is telling Klaus, “Maternity clothes, perhaps? Hayley would look lovely in pastels.”
A vein in Klaus’s neck pulses. “She’d look lovelier dead.”
Bonnie is pretty grateful she lived her life as an only child.
“You need a new love,” Alaric decides, completely oblivious to the domestic squabble and its potential fatalities. “Lexi, what do you think?”
Lexi can’t answer, occupied as she is trying to lick the rim of Klaus’s glass. Scooting closer to Bonnie on the couch, Alaric says lowly, “I think Lexi likes you.”
Bonnie lets loose with a pulse of power, fueled entirely by irritation. The glass slips from Klaus’s fingers.
Lexi shrieks, “The brandy!”
Elijah frowns at the soiled carpet.
Klaus, for his part, barely even notices. He’s currently got a goal, and it is trying to strangle his brother while shouting, “I will not be seen in Babies ‘R’ Us!”
Damn. Foiled again.
“You’ve really taught him a lesson,” Alaric agrees, smirking a bit.
Bonnie grumps, “I liked you better when you were crying.”
“I was not crying.”
“But the brandy,” Lexi mourns, staring at the puddle on the floor. She spins on Bonnie and starts prattling off a list of reasons that Bonnie’s actions were uneconomical, beginning with starving children in Austria and ending quite squarely with fervid proclamations of, “My precious!”
Exhausted, Bonnie completely dismisses Lexi’s complaints, but does take the time to notice she has a pretty nice butt. Klaus and Elijah roll around on the floor, breaking expensive furniture and generally not giving a whit when brandy soaks their clothes. Klaus, in particular, seems not to care about the glass shards piercing his skin.
This is going to be harder than Bonnie initially suspected.
Lexi sits beside her, schooling her face into something teacherly and kind. “You know what would really teach him a lesson? If you poured him a new glass of brandy.”
“Lexi,” Bonnie gnashes her teeth. Wasn’t purgatory supposed to be nice, empty, quiet? “Do either of you plan on being useful, in any way,
shape, or form?”
“Damon always found me helpful,” Alaric says sorrowfully.
“Damon’s an ass,” Bonnie retorts.
She doesn’t exactly regret it when Ric’s face crumples, but she does miss the ability to turn people into toads. She wishes she’d taken advantage of that when she was alive, the toad-turning. In retrospect, it’s such a useful skillset to have wasted.
“Damon is an ass,” Lexi asserts, kicking Alaric when he’s down. “I can’t believe Stefan’s related to that tool.”
“Because Stefan’s a shining beacon of virtue,” Alaric retorts, defending his man’s honor. Bonnie wishes she could gag him.
Imperiously, Lexi replies, “He has impulse control issues.”
Bonnie snorts. “Understatement.”
“You should talk. This plan of yours isn’t going to work. You can’t scare Klaus into having a conscience.” Lexi kicks the wrestling brothers, her foot passing right through them. She frowns at Bonnie, like, See?
Bonnie refuses to be swayed by her quitter talk. “We can train him. Like a dog. It worked on Stefan.” She cocks her eyebrow at Alaric. “And Damon.”
“How’d you do that, anyway?” Lexi kicks Alaric’s knee. “I thought he was beyond hope. Were there like, Pavolvian cues involved? Sexy
Pavlovian cues?”
Bonnie clamps her hands over her ears.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
Alaric mimes zipping his mouth closed, which, if only. Fingers surprisingly gentle, though cold, Lexi pries Bonnie’s hands down and away.
“Right, okay, buzzkill. You want to scare the shit out of Klaus? Fine. But after we do this, you’re taking me on a field trip to a bar.”
“Your hobbies are so odd.”
“No need to be vicious. I can appreciate a do-gooder bender.” Lexi jumps to her feet, hair swinging out behind her. “So let’s do this, scare the big bad vampire into buying a present for his baby mama and cross it off as a win for the good guys, because I’d like to watch people get drunk now.”
“I doubt it will be a win,” Alaric tells her. “Can you imagine these two shopping?”
Klaus’s back hits the bottom of the couch, shaking it thoroughly. Bonnie can’t feel the reverberations, but she hears the scrape of it against the floorboards. “Honestly? I can’t imagine them doing much other than this.”
Dismayed, she scowls at the wrestling vampires, who continue to be utterly unbothered by her presence. From this angle - since they can’t do her any harm now that she’s not of this world and everything - they look like roly-poly puppies, innocuous, innocent, ineffectual. A lot like Bonnie, now that she thinks of it.
She harrumphs at Lexi for clarity’s sake. Can’t have her thinking Bonnie’s happy about the terms and conditions of her surrender. “Let’s do this thing.”
Klaus yelps something nasty that ends in, “-ck, ‘Lijah,” while Elijah’s rebuttal consists of, “Stop being a child,” and an elbow in Klaus’s face.
Bonnie rolls her eyes and rests her hands against Alaric and Lexi’s knees. In unison, the three of them aim all their energy at the long row of glass bottles on the Idiot Brothers’ kitchen counter.
They explode one by one, honey colored brandy and darker whiskeys, micro-brewed beer and darker mezcal. Droplets and shards hit the windows, the furniture, the couch, flying straight through the center of Bonnie’s chest. She’s never going to get used to that. But the experiment has its desired effect.
Klaus’s eyes get very wide and startled. He says, “Brother, perhaps we should go buy a trinket for Hayley.”
“Yes, I think that would be best,” Elijah agrees hastily, gaze darting around the room.
It passes straight through the specters on the sofa, which is probably best, because he’d be way less intimidated if he heard Alaric demanding
that the three of them try compelling a payphone into calling the Salvatores, just so he can hear Damon’s voice.
Lexi barrels right over him, pronouncing that the, “Problem’s solved! Time to go watch people drink beer!”
Bonnie hates her unlife.
Author:
garnetice
Pairing: Canon pairings mentioned, with a mentioned side of Alaric/Damon
Rating: K
Word Count: 1,986
Warnings: Spoilers for the most recent season finale of TVD
Summary: Bonnie just wants to haunt Klaus. She probably shouldn't have brought Lexi and Alaric with her.
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries, oddly enough, is not mine.
Author's Notes: I honestly have no excuses.
---
“Alaric, stop crying. I’m trying to focus.”
“M’not crying,” Alaric mumbles, a flash of movement in Bonnie’s peripheral vision. He wipes at what evidently aren’t tears.
Wuss.
Bonnie zeroes in the book balanced precariously against the mahogany end table. One more push. That’s all she needs. One more push and-
Elijah sweeps the text up in his arms, wearing the pleased little smile that he only gets around literature and the psychotic lady-vamps he deigns to love. “War and Peace. Advanced reading, brother.”
Klaus ignores him in favor of sipping from his crystal brandy snifter, clutched like a lifeline in his hand. Unhelpfully, Lexi approaches his flank, watching with bated breath while Klaus swallows.
She does not manage to muffle a longing moan. Alaric sniffles. Bonnie sighs. All three sounds go unnoticed by the vampires in the room.
Being dead blows.
After her untimely demise, Bonnie found herself at a loss. What is a young, pretty, supernatural girl to do with themselves once the end has come and gone?
There aren’t many options behind the Veil. No burgers. No school. The sole radio stations available are those flicked on by the living, and Bonnie’s never much been into the tractor-loving anthems of the South. She grudgingly gave into some friend-stalking impulses at one point, but Elena, Matt, and Caroline were a little busy giving nudity a try. Bonnie was super glad they’d all found or reunited with their true loves for the summer. She just had a vested interest in never, ever, ever seeing her best friends naked again. So she proceeded to play guardian
angel for Jeremy for a few weeks.
That only served to make her sad.
Failed by the living, Bonnie retreated back into the minimalist wonders of the Veil for family time. Or, she attempted to. Listening to her Grams lecture about the evils of black magic only held up for so long. She signed up for freaky-creature purgatory, not actualfax hell. Besides, her Grams appeared to have met a nice Mister on this side, and if there was anything worse than seeing Tyler Lockwood’s scrotum, it was a full frontal view of ass she was related to. Ugh.
Sticking around Mystic Falls was looking more and more like the worst possible course of action if Bonnie wanted to keep hold of her sanity.
She didn’t want to be an eye-witness to anyone’s sexscapades. She definitely didn’t want to watch Jeremy grow up and fall in love with anyone else. Bonnie wanted something different. She wanted closure.
The way she figured, the vast majority of the bad things that had happened to her in the past few years involved vampires. In fact, she could source most of it back to one vampire, in particular.
Klaus.
Niklaus Mikaelson and his brood of awful siblings took Elena’s life from her. They forced Bonnie to do violate every witchy rule she’d been taught. They were the reason her nature-based magic deserted her. If it wasn’t for them - him - Bonnie never would have resorted to Expression. She wouldn’t have died.
Jeremy probably wouldn’t be alive, either, but that doesn’t matter now. What matters, the only truly relevant thing, is that Klaus is getting off scot-free for everything he’s ever done. He gets to pack up and move down to New Orleans, skipping along rainbows and sucking the town dry while he and his werewolf not-so-beloved are expecting what is very likely the Anti-Christ, with no repercussions.
Not on Bonnie’s watch.
The second Klaus moved back to the Big Easy, Bonnie followed, sparing only a few moments to grab Alaric - it was weird, watching him spy on Damon, verging on the point of creepy - and Lexi, who seemed like a nice enough girl for all her fangs. If anyone begrudged the Originals as much as Bonnie did, she assumed it would be them, the man who lost his life to their agenda and the woman who watched her best friend be tortured by it. Bonnie thought they’d help with the haunting.
They are not helping.
Lexi misses alcohol so much that she stares longingly at anyone drinking within a five mile radius. Drool is involved, and Bonnie is really sick of dragging her off Bourbon Street. Meanwhile, she’s beginning to entertain the sneaking suspicion that Ric and Damon used to be involved in a way that probably didn’t require clothes. The first time he broke down and professed to missing the eldest Salvatore, she managed to brush it off. The fiftieth time roused her suspicions. Now she’d mostly just like Mopey McMoperson to shut up so that she can concentrate on giving Klaus torment he so rightly deserves.
If only she were better at this poltergeist thing.
Elijah and Klaus bicker over every trivial thing they can think of, which as far as Bonnie can tell, defines their dynamic. It stopped being cute somewhere around the time Elijah announced he wanted a puppy and Klaus described the myriad ways he’d accidentally murder the accursed, theoretical thing. Klaus is nothing if not creative. Bonnie can tell they’re about to get into another round of it when Elijah proclaims,
“We should buy a gift for Hayley,” and Klaus’s eyes bug out of his head.
His grip on his snifter gets a little loose. Bonnie settles in to work her ghostly way on this new opportunity.
“Why would we do that?”
Sensibly, Elijah declares, “She will need things. For the child, you understand.”
Klaus snarls under his breath, muttering expletives. Lexi’s mouth is practically pressed to the brandy glass. Bonnie clenches her fists and concentrates harder.
“We should go back to Mystic Falls,” Alaric says. “Damon needs me. I can feel it.”
Bonnie grits her teeth. “Last time I checked, you weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider.”
“Your hostility is showing.” Alaric props his face on one hand and says, “Is this about Jeremy? It’s about Jeremy, isn’t it?”
In the real world, Elijah is telling Klaus, “Maternity clothes, perhaps? Hayley would look lovely in pastels.”
A vein in Klaus’s neck pulses. “She’d look lovelier dead.”
Bonnie is pretty grateful she lived her life as an only child.
“You need a new love,” Alaric decides, completely oblivious to the domestic squabble and its potential fatalities. “Lexi, what do you think?”
Lexi can’t answer, occupied as she is trying to lick the rim of Klaus’s glass. Scooting closer to Bonnie on the couch, Alaric says lowly, “I think Lexi likes you.”
Bonnie lets loose with a pulse of power, fueled entirely by irritation. The glass slips from Klaus’s fingers.
Lexi shrieks, “The brandy!”
Elijah frowns at the soiled carpet.
Klaus, for his part, barely even notices. He’s currently got a goal, and it is trying to strangle his brother while shouting, “I will not be seen in Babies ‘R’ Us!”
Damn. Foiled again.
“You’ve really taught him a lesson,” Alaric agrees, smirking a bit.
Bonnie grumps, “I liked you better when you were crying.”
“I was not crying.”
“But the brandy,” Lexi mourns, staring at the puddle on the floor. She spins on Bonnie and starts prattling off a list of reasons that Bonnie’s actions were uneconomical, beginning with starving children in Austria and ending quite squarely with fervid proclamations of, “My precious!”
Exhausted, Bonnie completely dismisses Lexi’s complaints, but does take the time to notice she has a pretty nice butt. Klaus and Elijah roll around on the floor, breaking expensive furniture and generally not giving a whit when brandy soaks their clothes. Klaus, in particular, seems not to care about the glass shards piercing his skin.
This is going to be harder than Bonnie initially suspected.
Lexi sits beside her, schooling her face into something teacherly and kind. “You know what would really teach him a lesson? If you poured him a new glass of brandy.”
“Lexi,” Bonnie gnashes her teeth. Wasn’t purgatory supposed to be nice, empty, quiet? “Do either of you plan on being useful, in any way,
shape, or form?”
“Damon always found me helpful,” Alaric says sorrowfully.
“Damon’s an ass,” Bonnie retorts.
She doesn’t exactly regret it when Ric’s face crumples, but she does miss the ability to turn people into toads. She wishes she’d taken advantage of that when she was alive, the toad-turning. In retrospect, it’s such a useful skillset to have wasted.
“Damon is an ass,” Lexi asserts, kicking Alaric when he’s down. “I can’t believe Stefan’s related to that tool.”
“Because Stefan’s a shining beacon of virtue,” Alaric retorts, defending his man’s honor. Bonnie wishes she could gag him.
Imperiously, Lexi replies, “He has impulse control issues.”
Bonnie snorts. “Understatement.”
“You should talk. This plan of yours isn’t going to work. You can’t scare Klaus into having a conscience.” Lexi kicks the wrestling brothers, her foot passing right through them. She frowns at Bonnie, like, See?
Bonnie refuses to be swayed by her quitter talk. “We can train him. Like a dog. It worked on Stefan.” She cocks her eyebrow at Alaric. “And Damon.”
“How’d you do that, anyway?” Lexi kicks Alaric’s knee. “I thought he was beyond hope. Were there like, Pavolvian cues involved? Sexy
Pavlovian cues?”
Bonnie clamps her hands over her ears.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
Alaric mimes zipping his mouth closed, which, if only. Fingers surprisingly gentle, though cold, Lexi pries Bonnie’s hands down and away.
“Right, okay, buzzkill. You want to scare the shit out of Klaus? Fine. But after we do this, you’re taking me on a field trip to a bar.”
“Your hobbies are so odd.”
“No need to be vicious. I can appreciate a do-gooder bender.” Lexi jumps to her feet, hair swinging out behind her. “So let’s do this, scare the big bad vampire into buying a present for his baby mama and cross it off as a win for the good guys, because I’d like to watch people get drunk now.”
“I doubt it will be a win,” Alaric tells her. “Can you imagine these two shopping?”
Klaus’s back hits the bottom of the couch, shaking it thoroughly. Bonnie can’t feel the reverberations, but she hears the scrape of it against the floorboards. “Honestly? I can’t imagine them doing much other than this.”
Dismayed, she scowls at the wrestling vampires, who continue to be utterly unbothered by her presence. From this angle - since they can’t do her any harm now that she’s not of this world and everything - they look like roly-poly puppies, innocuous, innocent, ineffectual. A lot like Bonnie, now that she thinks of it.
She harrumphs at Lexi for clarity’s sake. Can’t have her thinking Bonnie’s happy about the terms and conditions of her surrender. “Let’s do this thing.”
Klaus yelps something nasty that ends in, “-ck, ‘Lijah,” while Elijah’s rebuttal consists of, “Stop being a child,” and an elbow in Klaus’s face.
Bonnie rolls her eyes and rests her hands against Alaric and Lexi’s knees. In unison, the three of them aim all their energy at the long row of glass bottles on the Idiot Brothers’ kitchen counter.
They explode one by one, honey colored brandy and darker whiskeys, micro-brewed beer and darker mezcal. Droplets and shards hit the windows, the furniture, the couch, flying straight through the center of Bonnie’s chest. She’s never going to get used to that. But the experiment has its desired effect.
Klaus’s eyes get very wide and startled. He says, “Brother, perhaps we should go buy a trinket for Hayley.”
“Yes, I think that would be best,” Elijah agrees hastily, gaze darting around the room.
It passes straight through the specters on the sofa, which is probably best, because he’d be way less intimidated if he heard Alaric demanding
that the three of them try compelling a payphone into calling the Salvatores, just so he can hear Damon’s voice.
Lexi barrels right over him, pronouncing that the, “Problem’s solved! Time to go watch people drink beer!”
Bonnie hates her unlife.