til eternity - t - bonnie/damon - chapter two [a]
title: you know I will adore you ('til eternity)
category: the vampire diaries
genre: friendship/romance/drama/humor
ship: damon/bonnie
rating: explicit/nc-17
word count: 7,524
summary: "Run all you want, but it won't change anything, Bonnie. It doesn't matter what world we're in, you'll always be my wife." After being sucked up into what they assumed would be oblivion, Damon and Bonnie soon find themselves in an idyllic little town where they're free to find peace. Which is exactly what they have for fifteen years, until reality comes calling to bring them home.
previous: chapter one,
you know I will adore you ('til eternity)
-novel-
II.
EIGHT MONTHS
'Curiosity killed the cat,' was one of her father's favorite sayings.
'But satisfaction brought it back,' echoed in her mind, in a distinctly Damon-like voice.
That was why Bonnie was sitting in her car, idling just outside of the 'Welcome' sign that stood on the edge of town, where the highway led in anyone who thought to enter. Only, no one ever did. It was something she picked up on a few weeks back. Nobody new every seemed to visit; everybody knew each other, greeting one another by name, waving as they passed each other in the streets. That wasn't so unusual; she'd grown up in Mystic Falls, where everybody was familiar with each other. But they still had traffic, people passing through town for gas or visiting for a weekend or during the summer months. It wasn't like that here. And, considering she was fairly sure that this was an in-between world of some kind, a hold over between life and the oblivion, she wondered just how far it reached. Was the town isolated, or did it reach beyond the city limits? Could she travel? Take a plane somewhere? Or were they confined to this one small town?
It would be so easy. Just drive forward, see what else was out there, but instead, she continued to idle.
It was easy to forget that the world around her might not be real. Easy to get caught up in the normality of it all. There were seasons here, holidays that felt so realistic she could almost forget that none of it was real. Were the people that worked for her the phantoms of people who had died in the real world? Did they, like she and Damon, have any idea they were gone? That this was just a shadow of the world they'd left. She wouldn't know it from talking to them. They all seemed to accept this world as their own, as if they'd been there all their lives.
Sometimes she wished she could forget. She wished she could get lost in this world and let it become reality. She wished she could stop worrying about her friends back home; if they were okay, if one day she might turn around and see them walking down the street, unaware of who she was, just another face to add to the crowd. Sometimes she would see a flash of blonde hair or she would hear a laugh that sounded so like Elena's and she would whirl around, searching for them, only to find unfamiliar faces passing her by.
But she couldn't forget. She had to know.
With a shaking hand, she reached out and put her car into drive. Slowly, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator and drove forward, past the sign. She watched, brow furrowed, as the trees on either side began to blur, the road becoming a mottled gray color, like running paint. And then, in a blink, it was gone. Her car was idling once more, this time facing the town, on the other side of the 'Welcome' sign again. So that solved it then, there was no leaving, no life outside of this small town. They were confined to this area, no chance of exploring or seeing the rest of the world.
She should have been disappointed. And, in one way, she was. She wanted to explore. She wanted to have the option of packing up and leaving whenever she wanted, of leaving Small Town USA and instead going to see what the rest of the world had to offer. She'd never had the chance before, when she was alive, so this could have been her chance. But it wasn't. Because she died. She sacrificed herself for everybody else. Over and over and over again. And this is what it got her.
Bonnie smiled, letting out a hysterical little giggle, and then she dropped her face, forehead falling to her hands on the steering wheel, and she cried. She cried for the life she'd lost and the days she wished she'd been selfish enough to want a real future, all her own. She cried for the mornings she woke up happy that she wouldn't have to fight some new bad guy, that she wouldn't have to drain herself dry trying to keep her friends alive. She cried for her Grams' and her dad and even her mother. She cried and cried, until she was hoarse and tired and relieved. So damn relieved.
This was her life now. There was no changing it. No running from it. She had her store and her home and Damon. And she didn't know how long it would last, if one day she might just get ripped out of this world too, but for now, it was hers, and she was free and normal. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was safe and quiet and it had its moments; its fun, carefree, happy moments. She could live with that. For now.
TEN MONTHS
Damon was whistling as he walked into the house and tipped his sunglasses down his nose as he found a woman, equally beautiful, but not nearly as smart-alecky as Bonnie, standing in his kitchen. "Naomi," he greeted, shrugging his jacket off and looping his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. "Lemme guess, you've finally taken me up on my offer to elope."
Grinning at him from where she stood stirring a pot of heavenly smelling spaghetti sauce, Naomi shook her head. "Sadly, for you, I swore off marriage a long time ago. Don't let that stop you from asking though, I do like the ego boost."
Damon held a hand to his heart. "All my dreams, dead and buried, right here." He kicked his shoes off and made his way into the kitchen. "What am I supposed to look forward to now, huh? Who could live up to the Naomi-shaped hole in my heart?"
"Well, if she ever gets her head out of her work, I think Bonnie might be able to help you with that."
Stealing a slice of cheese off of a plate on the island counter, Damon popped it in his mouth and took a long look down the hallway, humming disapprovingly. "She's still working? She promised she was going to quit at noon and spend some time relaxing..."
"Oh, she did, for about an hour." Naomi frowned. "Then she invited me over and, one thing led to another, and-"
"Don't tell me…" He put his hands together in the prayer position. "Experimental lesbian kiss."
Naomi rolled her eyes at him. "You wish," she muttered, waving a dish towel at him. "We started talking about work and she got distracted, said she needed to recheck the stock. I went ahead and started dinner. She already picked everything up anyway. I know she said she was going to make you dinner tonight, but once she gets on a work tear, there's no talking her out of it," she sighed.
Damon nodded, turning on his heel and starting toward the hall. "You're staying for dinner, right?"
Shaking her head, Naomi tapped the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. "'Fraid not, handsome. I've got two hungry kids that should be home any minute now… Tell your girlfriend she owes me girl time that doesn't involve work." Undoing the apron from her waist, she tossed it to the counter and started for the coat rack by the front door. "Have a good night, Damon."
"You too. And hey…" He grinned. "You ever change your mind about marriage, you know where to find me."
She scoffed. "Honey, you couldn't handle me on your best day." With a bit of a hair flip, she turned and walked out the door, an extra swing in her hips.
Smirking, Damon returned to his task, making his way down the hall to the office where Bonnie spent entirely too much of her time. He leaned against the doorjamb and knocked his knuckles against the wall. "You about done in here? Your afterlife-bff just took off… She made what smells like a really awesome spaghetti sauce, too."
"Naomi left?" Bonnie looked up from where she was surrounded by various bottles. "I didn't get a chance to talk to her about the new batch of oils we got in."
"Oils?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "Like the fun kind?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes as she pushed up from the floor and gave her legs a shake from sitting for so long. "Yes, Damon, I like to keep the kinky massage oils right next to the foot odor powder." She walked past him into the hall and started toward the kitchen.
Damon followed after her, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how amazing her legs looked in the shorts she was wearing. "You know, I hear it's only good business to test out your own product from time to time…" He leered at her playfully. "Whattya say, Bon-Bon, want me to put my hands to work on your tense back?"
She scoffed. "Somehow I highly doubt you'd stick to just my back."
"I can't be held responsible for where else you hold tension." He shrugged. "I'm just here to help. Your friendly, neighborhood, handyman…"
Bonnie's mouth twitched with amusement. "Maybe some other time," she said, making her way to the pot simmering away. "Did Naomi say anything else before she left?" Before he could answer, she qualified, "That didn't have to do with you relieving my stress, her turning down your latest marriage proposal, or anything in that general ballpark."
He hummed, leaning a hip against the counter. "She said you needed to hang out again soon, preferably somewhere you wouldn't be distracted with work." He raised his eyebrows. "Thought we talked about you taking today off."
"No… I said I'd take a break. I didn't say I'd take the whole day off," she corrected, scooping out a taste-test of the sauce and licking her lips before she held the spoon out for him.
He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the spoon, slurping up the sauce and nodding approvingly.
Bonnie reached up to wipe at the corner of his mouth absently and licked the remaining sauce off her thumb. "There's too much to do. I just got in new merchandise and I'm not exactly sure where I want it to go… It's either clear out some of the old stuff or put in a new section, which…" She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't exactly have time for."
Damon shrugged. "I've got time."
She looked over at him, brow furrowed. "I know Peter mentioned you built the shelves originally, but that was the other you…"
"Other me, this me, doesn't change anything. You want shelves, I can build 'em." He pushed off the counter and made his way to the pantry, digging out the spaghetti noodles. "Just say the word and I'll get started building."
Bonnie stared at him a long moment as he walked back toward her. "Just my friendly, neighborhood, handyman, huh?"
He grinned down at her and tapped her nose with the spaghetti noodle box. "Exactly."
After a moment, she nodded. "All right, if you think you're up to it…"
"Definitely." He dug out a pot and filled it with water before joining her by the stove. "On one condition."
"Here we go..." she muttered under her breath.
"Take tomorrow off."
She blinked up at him. "What?"
"Take tomorrow off. Completely. Go do something fun, take Naomi with you, whatever, just get your head off of work for a while." He, rather dramatically, hip checked her out of the way to get their spaghetti noodles going then and Bonnie frowned, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed.
"That's it?"
"Mmhmm." He dusted his hands off and turned to look at her. "No work, no stopping by the shop, no going over inventory, none of it. Just a normal, relaxing day."
She tipped her head thoughtfully, staring up at him, and then, after taking a deep breath, she said, "Okay."
His mouth turned up at the corner. "Yeah?"
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Deal." She held a hand out for him to shake.
He let out a snort of a laugh, but he shook her hand all the same. Before she could let it go, he gave her a little twirl and pulled her into his side. "Now, what do you say you open a bottle of wine?"
"On it."
As she walked off, Damon smirked to himself, more than a little satisfied with the outcome. When he became so focused on making sure Bonnie didn't work herself to death, he had no idea, but reminding her to live a little was just up his alley.
ELEVEN MONTHS
Bonnie forgot sometimes, how charming Damon could be, how human he was. And he was, more than anything else. Here, in this world, he was flesh and blood. If she were to press her ear to his chest, she would hear the steady thump of his heart, long ago questioned to have ever existed. It was different now. Everything was different now. But they had adapted. They lived their lives and relied on each other and worked jobs they happened to really enjoy.
Leaving Damon to entertain her modest employee group -there were only five of them in total- Bonnie found herself wandering her store, moving down the aisles to make sure all the candles had their ribbons and labels facing front. She could spend hours here, lost in her inventory, making sure everything was just the way she wanted it. Time was lost to her, drifting away, absolute calm engulfing her as she paused to sniff a few candles she and Naomi had put out just that morning. The warm scent of pumpkin spice filled her senses. Thanksgiving was just around the corner and these ones in particular, along with mint and candy cane, were selling better than the rest. Her smile quickly dimmed, her lips turning down instead.
"Someone's mopey…"
She let out a sigh as his voice interrupted her thoughts and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Have they left?"
"Naomi said she had to get home to her kids, and since she carpooled with Kayla and Brandon, they went with her. Peter offered to close up, but I figured you'd stick around a while longer anyway, so he and Annette left." He walked toward her, his head cocked curiously and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "What's on your mind? You've been extra introspective today…"
She stared at him a moment, watching as he plucked a candle up from the shelf and gave it a sniff. Cinnamon. It was his favorite. She knew because they had a large collection at home and he always chose the cinnamon to light up. Nowadays, she found herself linking the scent with him. Cinnamon, leather, and red wine. She wondered if the cinnamon scent reminded him of anything in particular or if it was just a nice nod to the season. Even Damon could get sentimental.
"Just feels strange. Thanksgiving is one of those seasons you're supposed to spend with everyone who means something to you. Makes me thinks of Grams… Big family dinners, lots of homemade food, Caroline overdoing it with decorations…" She smiled sadly. "I miss them."
He hummed, nodding. "Well, I can't guarantee a family dinner, but we can do something, make our own traditions. I'm not a crafts person…" His lip curled a little, and she could only imagine his frustration as he was forced to make a table display, which only made her grin in amusement. "But I can handle the cooking if you want to do the rest."
"Yeah? Turkey with all the fixings?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sure… Cranberry sauce, stuffing, candied yams, you name it, Bennett, and I can cook it." He tapped her nose with the end of his finger in a gesture that was becoming more and more affectionate over time. He grinned when she slapped his hand away and put the cinnamon candle back on the shelf. "You ready to go home or you wanna stay here? 'Cause I'm getting a headache from all the candle fumes."
"We can go." She put her own candle back, readjusting it so it was facing forward, and then moved out of the aisle, walking to the back office while Damon shut off the lights and checked the front door to make sure it was locked. The crime rate in their sleepy little town was basically non-existent, but that didn't stop him from being cautious. When he returned, she leaned into his hands as he placed her hand-knit shawl, a gift from Naomi, over her shoulders and gathered up her sales and inventory books. He took them from her hands and carried them under one arm as they left out the back door. She locked it up behind them before following him to their car.
"I picked up a few things for dinner tonight…" he told her as he pulled out of the parking lot. "A nice red wine to go with our pasta and some French bread."
Bonnie felt her mouth turn up faintly and let her head fall to one side as she watched him, his attention on the road until he felt the weight of her gaze. He turned toward her, a brow raised and a warm smile pulling at his mouth. "What?" he asked, a faint laugh in his voice.
She stared at him thoughtfully. "You like this, don't you?"
His eyes fell for a moment before he turned them back to the road. "What's not to like, huh? I'm alive, there's no crazy supernatural jerk out to kill us… everything's easy. Normal." He shrugged. "Boring sometimes, sure, but it could be worse…"
Bonnie hummed, nodding to herself, and then ran her hands over the lines of the books in her lap.
Damon, uncomfortable with the thoughtful silence, turned on the radio, twisting and turning the knob until he found something he liked; something loud enough to drown out the honesty of his words. Because he did like it. She knew he did. He might miss home, miss everybody they left behind, but he liked how normal his life was. He liked waking up at the crack of dawn and sharing breakfast with her before the honk of a horn told him Danny was there to carpool to work. He liked popping a loud kiss on her cheek before he left, calling out, "Have a good day, honey!" in a cheesy, exaggerated voice. He liked that he had a routine and someone to come home to and that his day wouldn't be interrupted by the next big problem. He was content. And maybe there was a little guilt in that, knowing who and what they left behind. But that couldn't change how he felt. And it couldn't change how she liked it too.
So she let herself sink into the passenger seat, she let the music on the radio soothe her, and she looked forward to the dinner Damon would make and the wine waiting on them. She looked forward to going home. Their home. Small enough for only two, for only them, and perfect for the exact same reason.
ONE YEAR
Bonnie frowned up at him. "You don't think this is a little weird?"
"What's weird about it? It's a milestone, isn't it? People celebrate milestones." He shrugged, handing her a few drinks to carry back to the table.
"I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to celebrate the day we died, Damon." She kept her voice low, her eyes darting around to make sure nobody had heard. The bar was packed, but either no one was paying them any attention or the music was loud enough that nobody could hear them.
Damon nodded his chin in thanks to the bartender and grabbed the necks of a few other beers between his fingers. "Was that in the handbook? I don't remember reading the chapter on what was and wasn't socially acceptable in the afterlife," he said to her mockingly.
Rolling her eyes, she followed beside him as they made their way back to the table where Danny, his girlfriend Carla, Naomi, Brandon, and his boyfriend, Chris, were all cluttered around a table, waiting on them. "You know what I mean…" She stared up at him, her brows hiked. "And what did you tell them anyway?"
"That you've been working your pretty little butt off and we wanted to have a night out for once. Not a lie, if you think about it. You spend five days a week in your store, and most of your weekends getting ready for the work week. Anybody ever tell you that all work and no play makes Bon-Bon a dull witch?" He pouted his lips at her and winked before she frowned in reply. "Come on…" he cajoled. "You need a night off, I need a night off, there's a karaoke machine in this joint, and we already paid for our drinks. What's a couple hours, huh?"
"Karaoke?" she asked skeptically.
"Yes, and we're signed up to go any minute now, so put on your game face. We're gonna blow these amateurs outta the water."
Eyes wide, she whispered quickly, "We what?!"
As the song finished up on the stage- an off-tune rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, an entirely over karaoke'd song in Damon's opinion- a manager hopped on stage to take the mic back, half-smiling, half-grimacing, and said, "All right folks, it's Bonnie and Damon up next, singing… Whatta Man, Salt n' Pepa."
Bonnie turned toward him, her lips pursed. "Seriously?"
Damon grinned. Stopping by the table, he dropped the beers off with everybody, taking them from Bonnie's hands too.
Rubbing his hands together excitedly, he winked at the gathered group, who were already hooting and hollering in support, and then snagged Bonnie's fingers to pull her toward the stage.
"Damon," she growled. "We are not singing that. It's not even a duet!"
"Too late now, should'a said something earlier." He pulled her up the stairs, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he took the mic from the manager and turned, his arm wrapping around Bonnie's waist and pulling her in close. "Ready?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "What do you think?"
Unperturbed, he merely handed her the mic. "You get to start, so be sure to bring your A-game."
As the song started up, Bonnie let out a heavy sigh. She raised the mic to her mouth and looked to the screen, where the lyrics were written, waiting for her to begin. With a blink, she shook her head and, deciding to just go with it, opened her mouth to sing, "Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, what a mighty good man…"
Not the least bit ashamed, Damon gave her a spin, swaying happily to the beat, and, despite herself, Bonnie started to smile, laughing to herself before she launched into the first real verse.
So it was a weird thing to celebrate, being dead a whole year, but, all things considered, it was one of the calmest years she'd had in a while, and maybe she did deserve to have a little fun. Even excluding everything that happened when she was alive, she'd been working hard to keep her shop going and create some semblance of a normal life here. So what was one night of blowing off a little steam?
As it turned out, watching Damon spend the rest of his night, a little bit drunk and a lot eager to sing was, surprisingly, a lot more fun than she expected. She might just have to make it a regular thing.
[continue.]