"Tell me this dream of yours."

Bonnie Bennett closed her eyes, willing the images to appear like the floor of a deep pond. The smell of incense was sharp and heavy like woodsmoke. Strangely soothing.

"There was fire, everywhere. But it was strange."

"Strange how?" the voice was smooth and deep. Maya, the witch who'd helped her settle in at Beacon Hills, had insisted on helping her develop her powers.

"The fire was a strange...violet color. It burned me from the inside. And there's a man, I've never seen him but he looks at me like he knows who I am -," she bit off in frustration and opened her eyes, "That's where it all fades and I wake up feeling terrified."
The older woman looked thoughtful and Bonnie took a moment studying her friend and mentor. Maya was beautiful like an ageless sculpture, with dark hair and deep, expressive eyes. She was also a powerful witch with ancestry originating from China, as old and powerful as the Bennetts.

"If this is a premonitory dream, then you need to strengthen your abilities," Maya stood with a decisive air, glancing at her pearl wrist watch,"We'll start tomorrow. You're already late."

Dammit I almost forgot about Boyd.

He'd said he needed a favor and she'd agreed to meet him at her place a good 15 minutes ago.

Maya handed her her coat, "I'll drive you."

She noticed it then; the large scabbard suspended over Maya's door. It was both simple and menacing. "What's that?'

"The old hunters call it a wolf-sword."

Bonnie glanced at it one last time before they headed out, "Why do I get the feeling they didn't mean Siberian huskies?" She thought about Klaus and shivered unpleasantly.

"The only way to make certain a werewolf is dead," Maya glanced up at the sharp sickle moon, "Is to cut it in half."

Bonnie tapped her foot impatiently, waiting at the stairwell.

Where's Boyd?

She was about to give up when two figures emerged from the shadows. Boyd's square-jawed outline was immediately recognizable.

"Hey Bonnie."

"I thought you weren't...," her words faded when Boyd's companion stepped up, and she blinked, taking in the tall, powerfully-built figure. He was almost unrecognizable, except for the piercing hazel-green eyes.

"Derek?...Derek Hale?"

"It's been a while, Bonnie." he said quietly.

"I'll say," she smiled but his expression remained serious. She'd left Beacon Hills when she was eight and Derek almost twelve. There was little that was boyish about him now. The jaw and sharp nose made his face seem carved in stone, except for the vivid, almost haunting color of his eyes. And the leather jacket and jeans couldn't hide the powerful lines of muscle as he moved.

She was lost, hopelessly so. Bonnie never cried if she could help it. At eight years old she'd already learned that crying wasn't something that got you anything. Certainly not her mother's interest.

Her dad was the only one who noticed if she was upset. 'There, there green-eyes' he'd chuckle and wipe her tears. 
But he wasn't here, no one was here. Just her and the trees and whatever else was hidden in the forest, waiting for silly little girls who wandered off alone.

Bonnie wiped her nose, sniffling loudly. 'Mom,' she called faintly, hiccuping, 'Dad. I'm here.'

'Are you lost?'

The boy seemed to have come out of nowhere. He was a bit older than her, with wide eyes the same shifting colors as the forest leaves.

'No,' she replied boldly, but her voice quavered.

He smiled, 'It's ok, it's easy to get lost here if you don't know the way.'

"You two know each other?" Boyd's voice cut in and she realized she'd been staring. Bonnie felt a slight warmth at her ears.

"Yea. From when I lived in Beacon Hills," she found Derek still watching her, like he was waiting for something. "So what's up?"

"He needs a place to stay." Boyd cut to the point in his usual way.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing," Derek interrupted sharply, "It's a stupid idea and I told him so. Let's go, Boyd."

"Wait," she stepped up to Derek, "If you're in trouble, I can help."

His gaze unsettled her. Like he'd never seen her before. Like he was weighing every word. Her heart fluttered the tiniest bit faster and his eyes moved sharply like he detected something she couldn't.

Boyd cleared his throat, "Uhh... can we all talk inside?"

Derek had conceded to himself that Boyd was the most level-headed pack member. Which is why he'd listened when Boyd said he had a friend who could help.

"Her family's been involved with stuff for generations, so she's a safe bet," the younger wolf insisted. Bonnie and Boyd worked together at a small bookstore downtown.

But now that Boyd was gone and he was trapped in awkward silence at Bonnie's apartment, Derek was reconsidering sleeping in his car or the abandoned Hale house, fuck the danger.

"I'll get you some blankets for the futon."

While Bonnie bustled around Derek looked for a place to put his bags. The apartment was small and sparsely furnished. A quilted wall-hanging and some patterned curtains were the only decorations. There was a picture beside the futon of Bonnie and an older woman who was quite obviously family. Bonnie looked happy and younger in the picture, though it probably wasn't very old.

She emerged with an armful of blankets and a pillow and dropped them on the futon, "Help yourself to the fridge, just don't drink milk out of the carton."

"I'll try and remember that."

She stood with hands on her hips, "Do you need anything else?".

Derek looked at her properly for the first time and noticed she was pretty. More than pretty. His werewolf-sight could absorb details in mere seconds - a heart-shaped face, green eyes, petite curves - like they did everyday. But other things - the tilt of her smile, how the soft grey dress drew out the supple gold in her skin, the way her neck and shoulders were shadowed almost teasingly by the loose dark curls - drew his eyes back, again, and a third time when she shifted her weight, waiting.

Waiting. Fuck.

He'd been staring like a creep and she was probably weirded out.

"I'm fine," he rasped, avoiding her eyes.

"Oh...ok," there was the smallest hint of disappointment in her voice, like she'd been expecting more than two quick words. Derek busied himself with his duffel bag and kept his silence until she shrugged off to her room.

The girl was obviously lost, but her tearful green eyes flashed when he tried to approach her.

"Don't come closer or...or," she scrambled and hastily picked up a rock, "or I'll throw this at you!"

She was really brave for being lost in the woods by herself. "My parents live close by, you can come wait at our house till your parents find-,"

"No," she shook her two braids, "No, no they'll find me before that. Or I'll find them."

He could hear the runaway thud of her heartbeat. Her socks were dirt stained and one of her hair ribbons were coming loose.

"Go away," she repeated, "I'll be fine by myself."

He watched her walk off into the trees. Derek knew it was almost supper time. He should head home and wash up so he could help his mom lay the table.

He glanced back at her. It would be dark soon. What if she fell and hurt herself? She wasn't a wolf like he was, she couldn't smell and see the hidden things. Maybe his mom wouldn't be upset if he told her he was helping someone.

Derek followed the girl, keeping his distance so he stayed hidden. After almost an hour she dropped down beside some bushes and started crying. He froze. What should he do? If he showed himself she'd run away and maybe hurt herself. But his parents always said he should help people who were in trouble.

He waited until her crying subsided and she curled up on her side. After a few moments her breathing evened out a little. The sun was fading.

Derek stepped out quietly, crouching down to the ground when he was a few feet from her. She didn't stir, so he sat down. Eventually he stretched out on the forest floor, its scent of earth and leaf and rain as familiar as his own breath.

He watched the stars appear as his eyes grew heavy. Her heartbeat was the last sound that faded with sleep.

****

The day she awoke to find her glass-top coffee table shattered, Bonnie was more than a little pissed. She didn’t own a lot of nice things and that coffee-table was one of them.

It didn’t help that Derek’s muttered “Uhh I bumped it, it was right next to the futon,” was clearly a lie. Derek Hale was many things, but clumsiness and good lying were not among the moody werewolf’s qualities.

A few nights later she tossed and turned, trying to forget the unsaid goodbyes at Mystic Falls, the surprised confusion in Elena’s face when she told her she was leaving.

Tomorrow. I’ll call her tomorrow. Maybe.

She thought she heard noises in her living room where Derek’s tall form was sprawled on her futon.

Bonnie sat up, straining to listen. She caught the unmistakable sound of her old futon creaking  repeatedly, then muttered words.

It seemed she wasn’t the only with trouble falling asleep.

****

He was hunting for a cereal bowl when he spotted her out of the corner of his eye, glimpsing enough flesh in those few seconds than he had the entire week.

Derek swore under his breath. They’d established rules, dammit. Unspoken rules but rules nevertheless. And he was pretty damn certain those included no nudity in public space.

He waited to hear her retreating footsteps and was rewarded instead with soft floaty music.

“Umm, Derek, what are you doing?”

“I’m staring at this cupboard cos it’s just so pretty, what do you think?” he snapped,  “I’m waiting for you to go so I can turn around.”

“Go? I’m sorry if yoga gets your tail all twisted, but this is my apartment.”

Derek risked another glance to find that she wasn’t, in fact, naked, although she was pretty darn close. The shorts and cropped top were so miniscule as to be nonexistent.

Scowling, he grabbed the cereal box and stalked off to the patio, but not before glimpsing the lush outline of her lumbar curve as her arms extended in a graceful stretch. The early morning light slicked her in silver.

His eyes lingered against his will.

This wasn’t part of the plan. At all.

****

Bonnie was thirsty, possibly thirstier than she’d ever been in her entire life. And it was 3 am.

For the past week she’d managed to avoid the living room at night. The thought of seeing Derek asleep caused a fluttery nervousness in her belly. It seemed an intimacy somehow. Like the circles of protection her ancestors would trace in the earth, there were some lines you just didn’t cross.

She licked her lips.  It was no use, there was no way she’d fall asleep until she had a glass of water.

Bonnie crept out of the room as quietly as possible, tiptoeing across the almost non-existent hallway leading from her bedroom to the kitchen, wary of the wolf’s sharp hearing.

She managed to fill her glass without any commotion and was scurrying back when she heard it. Labored, distressed breathing. The futon creaking.

What...

She edged closer to the living room. Derek was moving restlessly in his sleep, and she could see his jaw clenching, his fists balled around the sheets. One arm lashed out violently, and she almost jumped back.
Bonnie thought of her coffee table, the glass cracked clean through. Werewolves heal instantaneously. Wounds close up, disappear, make you think they never happened.

He’s having nightmares.

She hurried back to her room. She wouldn’t know what to say if he awoke and saw her staring. Alphas didn’t respond well to their weaknesses being exposed.

But even after she crawled back under the covers, sleep proved difficult. The Derek Hale she’d known briefly as a kid was nothing like this brooding alpha he’d become, this orphaned wolf whose wounds closed up tight and swift.

It’s not like you’re the same person either, Bonnie.

Witches hid their wounds too.

***


Derek caught the layers of scent immediately, the blended odors infiltrating his senses through the hamburger helper he was indifferently cooking.

Bonnie entered his line of vision in a cream colored dress that skimmed her waist and flared attractively over her hips.

Had she always sauntered when she walked?

Fuck. Since when do I notice her walk?

The now familiar frustration needled him. He felt trapped, and every ounce of a wolf’s nature fought ferociously against it. Trapped in his head, trapped in this apartment, trapped by her constant nearness, the way she smelled, the way she nudged herself into his thoughts with far more frequency than he liked.

“Yo, wolf-man, the meat’s burning.”

He snapped back to attention to find that his supper was, indeed, charring.

“Shit!” he muttered, fiddling with the knobs.

Bonnie was beside him in a whisper of cotton and perfume, grabbing the spatula and muttering something about nothing getting done unless a witch does it and prying the half-burned hamburger helped from the pan-bottom.

She was so close he could count the chocolate shades in her hair. So close he could savor each distinct note of her perfume. Cinnamon. Oranges. And something else, something that made his nostrils flare and fists clench: the essence of her, the restrained hints of a scent that would only fully blossom in sweat. A scent that a lover could know.

I need to get a fucking grip.

It’s the perfume, he decided. All those scents soaked in her already far too enticing skin. Yup, definitely the perfume. It was somehow affecting his brain.

With a stifled growl Derek pushed away from the stove, and Bonnie.

“Forget it.  I’ll just get takeout.”

There was a sigh and a clatter as she put the spatula down. “Suit yourself.”

He shrugged on his well-worn leather jacket; the sooner he got away from Bonnie and her perfume and her irritating dress the better.
“Well, what do you think?”

Bonnie leaned gracefully against the counter, extending one slim leg and tossing back her hair.

Derek blinked, momentarily nonplussed, “Huh?”

Eyes rolled, “The dress, Derek. Well?”

“It’s...nice?” he offered impatiently.

“Nice?” she laughed, “I suppose that’s the Derek Hale version of a Hallmark card, but I’ll take it. Don’t you know this is why girls have guy friends? To give them honest, guy opinions about their clothes.”

Though her voice was light, her eyes danced in something like a challenge. His alpha blood stirred. “Oh is that what I am?”

Derek leaned back against the door, crossing his long legs at the ankle, “Fine, you want my opinion? Turn around.”

“What?”

He made a circular motion with his index finger. “Turn. Around. Let me see it.”

Bonnie hesitated for a moment before rotating slowly. He could hear her heartbeat speed up and tried to ignore the enticing pull on his own.

Derek let his eyes drink her in, the way he’d denied himself these past weeks. Her body was a whispered silhouette against the soft cotton, beautiful shoulder blades exposed by side-swept hair. There were yellow flowers on her dress and they struck him as strange and poignant. Both their lives were too raveled, surely, for the simplicity of small, yellow flowers.

When she faced him again the dusk-light hid in the hollow of her throat, fell carelessly across her arms. Her eyes tugged at him, unexpected and disorienting.

“Well?” she repeated, and he thought he detected a slight catch in her voice.

That her heart was racing he was certain of.


***

She was home early and Derek was still at training with the pack. Bonnie seized her chance and grabbed the pepper-spice. Following Maya’s instructions, she poured the pepper under the futon, carefully making the requisite crescent shape.

She liked protective spells. They made her feel powerful and full of purpose the way almost no other magic could. When the crescent glowed in response to her soft incantation she knew the spell was successful.

That night when she tiptoed to the kitchen, it wasn’t to fetch water. Sure enough, Derek was sleeping soundly, and she paused on her way back. He lay on his back with an arm flung behind his head, the other resting across his powerful torso as it rose and fell rhythmically.

Even alphas need rest.

Bonnie realized she was staring. Suddenly her neck was uncomfortably warm. She hurried back to her room and curled up under her covers.

And didn’t fall asleep.

****

Bonnie hadn't expected to stay out so late, but Jake proved a surprisingly engaging dinner date. He was funny and smart and cute, and seemingly without any complications of the supernatural nature.

Then why didn't I agree to a second date?

She let herself in and nearly stumbled, apart from the small lamp by the futon the apartment was completely dark. Derek was sleeping soundly, and she allowed herself a small smile. Trying to figure out a place and purpose for her magic in this new place was self-defeating at times, but at least she could help a friend.

Shrugging off her jacket, she crept to the lamp and looked down at the sleeping werewolf, her hand poised over the switch. She could feel the pulse of protective magic around them, a sign the spell was effective and strong.

Bonnie knelt and glanced under the futon, and sure enough the crescent shape glowed with a light only a witch could see.

Perfect.

Before she could stand, a large hand tugged her in the air as easily as if she were a ragdoll. A heavy weight pushed her down onto the futon.

"Derek what the fuck!" she swore, tossing her tumbled hair off her face.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, eyes flashing red.

"Get off of me!"

Bonnie met his stare uncowed and repeated, "Get off me before I throw you off."

His eyebrow quirked, almost in challenge, and Bonnie felt irritation and magic burning at her fingertips. But the next second Derek slid off her and she sat up. His eyes dropped to her chest for a second and she realized the loose tank she wore was all askew, exposing the lace-edge of her bra.

Derek frowned and glanced away immediately, as though angry at himself. She straightened up and got off, suddenly warm all over.

"Sneaking up on wolves is a bad idea, Bonnie."

"Apparently so is trying to help a friend," she bit back, still angry, "But, hey, if rage-inducing nightmares are your thing go right ahead."

She knew that was unfair, cruel even, but she was tired. Tired of people only wanting her help for ulterior ends. Tired of everyone thinking they had a right to decide when she used her magic.

"If you think I need protecting- ,"

"Fine," Bonnie cut him off, "Join the long ass list of people who I wouldn't lift a finger to help. There's a whole town of them in Mystic Falls."

Her voice caught unexpectedly on the last words, like swallowing a piece of bone. Derek looked almost taken aback, about to say something, but she'd be damned if she let him see her at her weakest.

She stalked back to her room, feeling his eyes on her. As soon as the door closed she slid to the ground and gulped her tears. Wiping her face on her shirt, she realized it now smelled faintly of Derek. A lingering scent, like the forest after rain, like ashes after fire.

Her clock read 4:30 am. Work started in less than 6 hours and Bonnie was no closer to falling asleep.

Damn him. Stupid werewolf.

She oscillated between mentally railing against the alpha who was surely sleeping soundly in her living room on her futon right now thanks to the protective spell cast by her magic.

Focusing her anger on Derek helped ease the nagging ache of Mystic Falls and the friends she'd left behind. Unanswered voice mails from Elena filled her cellphone. Even Damon had sent her a characteristically snarky text asking how she was.

No, she corrected herself. They left me behind, a long time ago. And I was too stupid to realize it.

When Derek and Boyd had asked for her help and she'd agreed to let him stay with her, she'd been glad to. It was refreshing to decide to help on her own terms.

And Derek had managed to make her feel stupid and unwanted all over again with his damn alpha pride.

She told herself the flash of contrition in his eyes was her imagination.

I was just seeing what I want to see.

Bonnie tried not to think about the way his eyes made her feel. Or how that damn tanktop outlined his chest. Or how his sleep-tousled hair was far too tempting.

But mostly she tried not to think about how much she wanted to reach out to him, to hold his hand amid the darkness they were both wandering through.

She didn't sleep at all.

Her scent was everywhere. Derek lay awake, staring a hole in the ceiling and trying not to think of the woman in the next room. She would probably sleep just fine, now that her annoyingly coaxing scent was all over his bed-space.

Although he couldn't suppress the wave of...something, something warm and sweet, that washed over him when he thought of her angry Get off me before I throw you off.

However else she'd changed, Bonnie was the still the girl who'd threatened to throw a rock at him despite being lost in the woods alone.

Then he thought of her stomping off, the catch in her voice when she likened him to the folks in her old town.

His werewolf-hearing could discern her quiet crying and it made him uncomfortable in a strange, nagging way. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't his fault everyone back in Mystic Falls was an asshole. He was just asserting himself, his ability to protect himself. As an alpha should.

Still the image of her stricken, angry eyes kept needling him. It was almost as frustrating as the image of her disheveled shirt and hair, her breasts rising angrily above the tempting lace.

Derek bit off a curse and curled his fists.

Bonnie Bennett was taking up entirely too much space in his head.

Bonnie was not a morning person even when she slept well. That morning she felt positively demonic, ready to cut like a machete through everything and everyone.

Derek and his stupid tanktop were eating at the kitchen table. She ignored his low-voiced greeting and slammed the cupboard door open. Pouring her cereal, she started the coffee maker and was about to leave the kitchen when she saw it. A second bowl of cereal, her cereal, sat next to Derek.

For a moment she blinked, her sleep-starved mind struggling to focus. It'd been ready for some time, she could tell the flakes were soggy and saturated.

Did Derek Hale...?

"Uhmm, thanks," she muttered, "I didn't get up with my alarm."

"Yea I heard it."

He glanced up and she noticed how his eyes gleamed somewhere between hazel and green and silver. Mercurial and elusive. Drawing her gaze only to trap it.

"How'd you sleep?" she turned back to the coffee maker, still feeling those eyes on her. Her heart decided to betray her by speeding up.

Stupid heart.

"Uh, good, thanks," he paused. "Thank you."

The real contrition in his voice, the way it dropped low and almost soft, didn't help her fluttering heartbeat.

Not at all.

Each stair felt like a fucking mountain. Bonnie hauled her exhausted, bleary-eyed self up to the apartment. After she got off work at 8, Maya had demanded they go over some spellwork, and it was nearly midnight by the time she was finished with Bonnie.

As much as she valued Maya's guidance and friendship, the older witch was tough and exacting when it came to magic, and she'd insisted that Bonnie needed to push herself harder. Whenever she remembered her dreams, the strange violet fire and that cold, grey-eyed face, the sense of dread clawing her throat when she awoke, she was determined to redouble her efforts.

Right now though, Bonnie felt like even a limp kitten would be too much for her, much less the looming supernatural threat her dreams prophesied.

The apartment was dark, and quiet. No Derek in sight. Dropping her things on the floor, Bonnie stumbled to the futon, her head throbbing with the resonant exhaustion of powerful magic. Her nose burned with the familiar metallic tang of blood.

I'll just lie here until the headache passes

In her drained state the old futon was as comfortable as a luxury mattress. Bonnie curled up her aching limbs, slipping off her shoes and nuzzling into the pillow with a small moan of satisfaction.

She fell asleep lulled by the smell of rainy earth and woodsmoke.

It was well past midnight when Derek trudged up the stairs to the apartment. Training had gone well that night, although he couldn't shake the slight unease inexplicably gnawing at his edges. sensing a threat he couldn't see or smell. Peter had insisted they avoid the Hale house after they'd found that slaughtered omega there weeks ago. It was the whole reason he'd let himself get talked into staying with Bonnie.

But if the unexplained killing was a message, they still had no fucking clue what it could mean. The others felt it too, he could see it in their tightly wound postures, a pulse of electricity that would randomly catch the pack's eye but disappear before they grasped it.

Derek sensed her closeness as soon as he walked in. Her heartbeat was strong and peaceful as a river current, her breathing even.

Great she's on the futon. What the hell am I supposed to do now.

He was looking forward to a night's rest, so he could clear his brain and stop thinking about what latest danger threatened his pack.
Stop thinking about Bonnie and her gorgeous lace-covered breasts and the smile he was starting to look forward to against all his instincts.

Fuck.

Derek pursed his lips. He really had to get that night and her askew shirt out of his mind.

Not that she's making it easier by sleeping on the goddamned futon.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? He considered waking her, but she was curled on her side, serene-faced and deeply asleep.

I could carry her.

He frowned. No, he didn't want to think about how she'd fit in his arms or what she would do if she awoke. Would she be angry or...?

No, carrying was not an option.

The thought of sleeping in her bed was smothered almost before he could think it. The sheets would be covered in her scent, positively soaked in it. He'd never be able to fall asleep anyway. And he really didn't care to discover any of her annoying lacy undergarments lying around.

Bonnie stirred in sleep, rubbing her face into the pillow, and the movement caused her camisole to shift revealingly.

Fuck.

Derek glanced around. The floor presented itself as the last and most viable option. He'd certainly slept on worse.

Shrugging off his jacket, the alpha rolled it up like a pillow. As he knelt he noticed a small smudge under Bonnie's nose, above her lip. A spot of dried blood.

She'd been using her magic. Pretty hard too from the looks of it. He scowled again as a surge of protectiveness caught him by the throat, abetted by the foreboding feeling that plagued him earlier.

He wonder if Bonnie felt the same looming threat. For the first time he conceded that she'd be a good, even formidable ally.

The protectiveness came back full force at the thought.

Derek brushed the dry blood from its spot. His finger lingered involuntarily on the soft curve of her upper lip.

The wolf snapped his hand back. Suddenly the reality of her nearness, the reality he'd been fighting since he started staying there, was dizzying.

He lay down on the floor.

Bonnie woke up groggily.

Shit how long was I asleep?

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. The living room came slowly into focus.

Dammit where -

She was expecting to find Derek lurking in a corner, ready to smirk at her. Instead he was on the ground, still dressed, sleeping.

On the floor beside her.

He didn't wake me up.

She startled awake and panic galloped through her heart. The forest was dark except for the faint cold light of stars. The leaves whispered in strange voices.

Then she saw him, the boy from earlier. He was lying a few feet away, eyes closed. A wolf howled in the distance and she gasped, sitting up. The boy's eyes flew open.

"Don't worry, they won't come here."

"How do you know?"

He shrugged, "I just do."

She watched him for a few moments and when he didn't move or say anything she relaxed a little, cautiously adding " I'm Bonnie."

He still wore his shoes, and she noted that they were plain black sneakers. She'd always assumed he wore steel-toed or combat boots or a combination, something suited to his indomitable alpha exterior.

But sneakers. Inconspicuous. Boyish almost.

A warmth spread through her chest. Goodnight Derek.

Just when she thought she'd figured him out, that she could armor herself against him the way she'd had to with so many others, a bowl of soggy cereal happened.

A quiet thank you happened

Plain black sneakers happened.

Bonnie lay back down, and sleep came easier than it had in weeks.

I really need new mascara.

Bonnie swept the brush across her lashes again. At least her Friday night assignment with the pack involved dressing up.
It was Peter Hale's idea to scout out the nightclub, and she frowned slightly at the memory. His face wasn't easy to read, but she could've sworn his expression flickered slightly when she'd offered to help.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?"

She rolled her eyes at the werewolf looming at her bathroom door. "Relax. We're not supposed to meet everyone there for almost an hour."

Derek lingered, characteristically silent, until she stopped applying the mascara, "What?"

He cleared his throat, "I uh need...my..that."

His gesture at the toothbrush on the sink.

While handing it back her gaze travelled up his arm to his face, and she noticed his ensemble for the first time: a well fitted dark-green shirt that made the vivid color of his eyes glisten. Her tiny bathroom felt even smaller, encompassed by his quiet, unwavering presence.

"Nice shirt," she managed lightly, "It's a good color on you, should wear it more often."

He took the brush from her and glanced away, muttering "It's what I had clean."

She couldn't resist. "You mean you didn't have the pack come over and help you decide?"

The alpha frowned. Bonnie grazed his arm lightly. "Oh relax Derek it was a joke. J-o-k-e. Happens sometimes."

She bit back a giggle as he stalked off.

The club was suitably busy for a Friday and Derek felt immediately on edge. There were too many people and too much swirling noise. Too many things could go wrong.

The werewolf shifted his weight and leaned against the wall, scanning the room, sifting through the layers of sound.

Where is this guy? If Peter's lying to me...

They were supposed to be watching for the club owner David Ryder. According to Peter he had information about the danger they'd all been sensing, information he'd be reluctant to part with.

Erica and Bonnie were making the rounds, and he'd positioned himself, Isaac and Boyd close to all the doors. If Ryder showed up, one of them would spot him.

A familiar laugh filtered through the din and he swiveled his sharp gaze. Bonnie and Erica were dancing, and enjoying themselves too damn much for alertness in his opinion.

They'd insisted though. "Derek if this guy's smart he's gonna notice all of us skulking around," Bonnie declared, then crinkled her nose at him in a puzzling way, "Don't worry, Erica and I'll take the floor." Then she'd sauntered off with the blonde, laughing about God only knew what.

Bonnie looked at ease and graceful in her silky green dress, a swathe of black lace at her thighs. It snaked around her hips and waist and across her shoulders, drawing his eye in all kinds of distracting ways.

He began to notice little things. The way she used the subtle movement of tossing her hair to keep a constant gauge of her periphery. How her body undulated without losing it's balance or alertness.

Watching her was fascinating, enthralling.

Dangerous.

He saw Erica tap Bonnie lightly on the shoulder and they shared a nod. The witch cut easily towards him through the crowd, sleek and glimmering like a fish.

She didn't halt until she was almost flush against him, her hand on his chest. She smiled but her eyes were serious.

Light fingers on his lips stopped the question as she swayed against him with a casual grace in perfect sync with their environment. He could feel the crush of her breasts beneath the silk and hear her heartbeat picking up speed.

"Don't look now," her whisper danced across his ear, "But I think our man's here. Twelve o'clock."

Derek brushed his knuckles down her side and heard her take a sharp breath, the pulse in her throat fluttering like a bird. Then he flattened his palm against her waist and turned her easily so he was facing the opposite direction.

The silk was warm from her skin and invitingly slick against his hand, her heartbeat a lush tremor against his senses.

Focus goddamit.

Derek spotted the pale, grey-eyed figure at almost the same moment Bonnie's hand tightened insistently on his shirt. He looked down and saw her eyes wide with alarm.

"Derek, something's wrong. I can feel it."

Everything happened at once. Bonnie caught Ryder's gaze like a flash of steel and felt the wave of energy coming before she extended her hands.

The stance Maya taught her helped absorb the malevolent force into her palms, but the sheer power crashed through them like a wave, hurtling them backwards.

She landed on on her side, disoriented. A few screams battered against the pounding music. She smelled smoke.

It's a trap.

"Derek!" she struggled to her feet as serpentine flames raced through the room.

The alpha turned to her with a snarl, eyes crimson and fangs bared.

Bonnie grabbed his arm, "Get the pack and get out. I'll hold him off.'

Ryder shot a tongue of fire at them and Bonnie barely managed to deflect it. His powers were sharp and focused, terrifyingly fierce. Just like my dream. Except the flames were orange instead of violet.

The dance-floor was a stampede.

"Get out of here, Bonnie. I can take him." Derek shouted.

"No!" she grabbed his arm and wolf-red eyes blazed at her, "He's got us trapped can't you see?" she was yelling over the roar of flames.

Ryder advanced slowly through the fire and directed another blast of energy at them. This time Derek leaped in front of her and the blast pushed him violently into the wall. The wolf leapt back to his feet instantly, snarling.

Bonnie braced herself and whispered the incantation, focusing on the fire until columns leapt in front of Ryder, separating him from Derek. Again she felt his knife-like eyes and the cold unyielding purpose directing his energy.

She looked around wildly until she saw it. The fire alarm. A quick blast of magic shattered the glass, setting off the sprinklers.

"Derek! Erica!" she screamed vainly, struggling to avoid getting knocked down by the rushing crowd.

She searched for Ryder, feeling for his encroaching power.

But he was gone.

Derek looked up when Maya stepped in from the patio alone. She'd been talking with Bonnie for almost two hours.

"Where's your pack, ?" she slid languidly into her coat.

"I sent them home. There's nothing else we can do tonight."

The older witch assessed him coolly, "You should keep them close. You'll need them for what's coming."

Derek frowned.

She paused at the door, resting her flawless red nails on the handle. "Keep Bonnie close too. She's more important than you realize."

He stared at the door long after it closed before realizing Bonnie was still on the patio. Derek found her wrapped in a coat, staring at the sky.

"Thanks... for your help." he walked up slowly.

Bonnie faced him, "Is that a thank you from Derek Hale? Should I call the news?"

Her smile was distracting. Everything about her was becoming far too distracting.

Just like that her face grew serious, "Derek, whoever this Ryder is, he's one of the most powerful witches I've faced. You'll need my help."

His grip on the rail tightened, "I don't need anyone's help. No, listen-," he insisted, seeing the flash in her eyes, "I won't let you risk your life."

Don't ask me to explain Bonnie.

"I don't get it. You let your pack help you, Boyd and Erica are strong but they're still new to all this. I've been a witch much longer than-,"

"That's different. Werewolves live in packs, we survive in packs. It's our nature, and the pack knows that. There's no good reason for you to get involved."

Her jaw set, "And what if I want to help you, despite the danger?"

Derek searched her face, sensing the sudden rush of her heartbeat. It wasn't fear, or lying, that made it race.

He wanted to run, forget he'd ever seen her, forget how she smelled and how her body moved under clinging silk and the way she was looking at him right now.

He wanted to touch her and see how much faster that heart could beat.

Bonnie reached a tentative hand to his face, lightly grazing her fingers on his stubble. She was so close he could sense the warmth of her breath. There was the slightest tremor in her fingertips. Anticipation.

A breeze stirred her hair like a temptation and his eyes fell to her lips. Suddenly everything he wanted to say, all the arguments for why he should just walk the fuck away slammed headlong into the violent desire to taste her.

Derek swallowed a growl of frustration.

"You should get some sleep."

Bonnie bit her lip, dropping her hand instantly. "Yea. Goodnight, Derek." she turned on her heel, leaving him alone on the patio.

Fuck. What just happened?

Thwarted desire licked at him like flames. Derek tasted ashes in his mouth.

The flames usually hovered around them serenely during meditation, held aloft by the balanced flow of power.

It was one of her favorite exercises. But today the flames twitched, flickered, and threatened to vanish, forcing Bonnie to repeatedly center her breath and rechannel her power

"You're distracted tonight," Maya observed, surrounded in the perfect gliding light of her own candle-flames.

"I'm fine," Bonnie exhaled, straightening her shoulders.

"It's Derek Hale, isn't it?"

Bonnie was fairly certain the unbalanced flames would've scorched her hair and clothes if Maya hadn't vanquished them with a quick incantation.

The older witch smiled, "You care about him a great deal."

"It doesn't matter."

I wonder what Elena would think. It was times like these she missed her friend and the closeness they'd shared.

"Clearly it does, if it affects your meditation."

"Let's start again-,"

"No," Maya's voice was soft but firm, "We're done for the evening."

Bonnie was nonplussed. Maya never ended their training early.

"Take a walk and clear your head," her teacher stood, opening the window, "It's a beautiful moon tonight."

"Hey Derek, uhh I appreciate the ride but I'd prefer to get to Erica's alive."

Boyd's voice took a second to register. Derek glanced at the speedometer and swore, easing off the gas.

"Shit."

He felt Boyd heave a sigh of relief and they drove for a while in comfortable silence. Derek appreciated the young werewolf's quiet nature.

"So that Ryder dude," Boyd mused, "He's pretty powerful. It's a good thing we had Bonnie there."

Derek said nothing. He'd been avoiding her since that night, a tactic that was hard enough in a small apartment without the added frustration of actually wanting to see her.

"She's a great witch, and nice too," Boyd continued, "I'm glad she's sticking around."

Derek grunted in response.

"So, what's going on with you two?"

"What?"

"Derek, it's a 35 zone,"

The car slowed again, "Nothing's going on with us," he muttered.

No matter how much he liked being around her or how fucking good she looked in lace.

They turned into the driveway. Boyd paused, one leg outside the door. "Maybe that's the problem."

There were some places so tainted with death and anguish the spiritual energy was knotted like snakes. If disturbed, it could leap out and strangle you.
Bonnie had encountered few such places, but the ruins of the Hales' home was one of them. The moon wove ghostly shadows through the empty windows and blackened walls.

Even the trees look dead.

She thought of the nightmares that haunted Derek. Did he wish he'd been there with them, his pack his family, to die or survive together?
Suddenly she felt like an intruder. Bonnie started walking, then running, putting as much distance as possible between her and the skeletal house.

Almost as soon as she was off the Hale property, she could sense a change in the spiritual energy. The forest was still stained with the horror of tragedy, but it was less suffocatingly focused.

She wandered absently. The shadowy moonlight trapped among dark trees didn't frighten her like when she was a girl. It almost saddened her to remember a time when dark forests were all she knew of fear.

Reaching a small clearing, she sat down on the damp leaves. She was still frustrated about her messy training session earlier.

Compensating for the lack of candles, Bonnie took a breath and levitated a leaf. One. Two. Three. Twenty.

They floated in the sparse moonlight like on a stream, calm and fluid.

Then the waters stirred, the energy ruffled by a new presence.

She stood up, dusting off her jeans, "What's with you and sneaking up on people?"

Derek looked amused, hands pocketed in the black leather jacket "Are you kidding? After your sneaking around the futon this just makes us even."

She crossed her arms, "What do you want? And how did you find me anyway?"

He just looked under his brows at her and shrugged. Oh right. Wolf-senses, nevermind.

Did Derek come looking for her? Did he just happen to be in the woods? The thought of him following her scent made made her warm and flustered all at once. It was a strange intimacy.

She glanced at her feet, "Look, I'm sorry about the other night. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't."

"Could've fooled me."

"Look," he frowned, "I just don't want you to put yourself in dange-,"

"Then what am I supposed to do, Derek?" she cut him off, barely keeping her voice in check, "You think I practice until my nose bleeds every day to float leaves and feathers? Light some candles? My powers are a gift, just like the bite. You saw what I was capable of. You know I can help you."

"You're right," he bit out, "Your powers are a gift.." She could see a muscle move in his jaw. "And I don't want you to waste them on me."

Words turned to air in her throat. Bonnie met his eyes, "What makes you think this is about you?"

His eyes flashed like light through forest leaves as they flickered across her face, then travelled lower. "Your heartbeat."

Damn him and those wolf senses.

She closed the distance between them and raised her hand slowly. Derek watched her, uncertain but waiting. Bonnie placed her palm over his chest, swallowing at the feel of warm, hard muscle, and looked up. Triumph tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Your heart's going pretty fast too, wolfman."

His hand closed over hers and plucked it gently away, their fingers entwining briefly before parting. He brushed a leaf from the hair on her shoulder and kept the strand between his fingers, running his thumb there, his expression unreadable.

Forget werewolves I bet people on the highway can hear my heartbeat.

Derek's fingers pushed the hair behind her ear, tracing its curve and resting on her pulse with a ghost touch. They were so close their noses were almost touching, and she could catch the lingering, forest-earth scent of him, could see the moonlight in his eyes. A thumb brushed her chin, lightly, and those eyes fell to her lips.

To hell with it.

Bonnie stood on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth against his. His five o'clock shadow grazed her skin. She sank back on her heels and he followed her, drawing her against him with a low decisive growl. He tasted of rain and ashes and smoke, haunting, insistent flavors that unravelled her slowly.

She could feel him holding back.

Sliding a hand under his collar, she nudged him closer and suddenly he was very much kissing her and she wasn't prepared for, hadn't even imagined possible, the hungry fierceness of his mouth and tongue on hers.

Teeth grazed her lower lip and she couldn't repress a small sigh of pleasure, swaying into him, his warm leather solidness that was entirely Derek, familiar and excitingly strange. She felt his hands all up and down her back before sliding under her shirt and faint delicious tremors took hold of her legs. Could he feel them? She must have made some kind of approving sound because his thumbs pressed at her ribcage like he couldn't hold her tight enough and he groaned into her mouth. The heat of his hands made her shiver, even as the cool night air goose-bumped her flesh.

Then just as suddenly he broke the kiss and released her. She caught the red in his eyes and the flash of canines, then he was just Derek again, with his eyes haunted like the windows in a destroyed house.

Her lips and skin still tingled from his touch. "Derek-,"

"I..uh. Fuck, Bonnie...," he took a breath, "I'm sorry -,"

"Why are you sorry? I'm not -,"

He bit off a curse, seemingly angry at himself, "I have to go."

Bonnie watched him disappear into the forest, a ghost in a living graveyard.

He didn't return to the apartment for four days, sleeping in the abandoned Hale house and living out of his car.

During training Boyd would give him strange looks but he swiftly rebuffed any attempt at conversation. Peter was missing, and no one had seen or heard from him. He drove the pack relentlessly.
They needed to be strong, to be prepared. And it was his responsibility to spare them no weakness until then. Especially with Ryder still after them.

Training kept him busy, kept him focused.

The nights were different.

There was no protective spell here, nothing between him and his demons. Instead of nightmares, his own mind twisted itself into shape after sleepless shape: Laura's face. Kate laughing. The glare of fire in the night.

And woven between it all like a whisper of black lace, Bonnie Bennett and the way her olive eyes had looked at him before she put her hand over his heartbeat.

He wanted to forget he'd ever kissed her, touched her, been near her. He wanted to bury his face in her hair until her scent was all he knew.

Derek knew, though he ignored, that he'd been attracted to her since he saw her again. If it was just harmless attraction he'd be fine.

But he actually liked, and now missed, other things about her. The shadows at the corners of her mouth when she smiled. Her fierce belief in her powers and the way it kindled his own pride in being an Alpha.

She'd given him her trust all those years ago in a dusk-shadowed forest, when they were both different people with different lives. And she hadn't taken it back, despite how much time had wrung them both through.

Why

The thought of her answer was as alluring as her scent and lips and feel of her quickened breath against his mouth.

But he'd distrusted and buried his desires for so long that unearthing them was fucking terrifying. How could he force them into the light, her light, without knowing how the shadows had twisted them?

Bonnie almost considered dumping Derek's duffel bag on the steps before climbing them determinedly.

Derek Hale might like to hide, but she was done running. She'd left Mystic Falls determined to make a change, to look her decisions in the eye knowing she and she alone was responsible for them.

The door was ajar and she let herself in quietly.

"Hello? Derek?"

She exhaled an exasperated huff and dropped the bags. Dust floated in the ashen light around her as she turned to go.
"You didn't have to bring my stuff."

She caught the white starkness of his cotton undershirt as Derek appeared from the shadows.

"Yea well, I've done a lot of things I didn't have to lately," she bit out, "It's called not being a dick."

"You came all the way out here to call me a dick?"

"No," she indicated the bags, "Your stuff was taking up space."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the small duffels, "That?"

Bonnie averted her gaze from the muscled outline of his shoulders and chest, the glint of his hazel-grey eyes like broken glass pieced together. All sharp edges and surprising corners of light.

She sighed. "I don't have time or space for your shit, Derek. I'm done guessing."

"I never asked you to start."

"Then why did you- ," she turned to the door, swallowing hurt, "Never mind."

Why did she keep making herself vulnerable when he was obviously fine not giving a shit?

He moved noiselessly to stand behind her and she faced him, biting off an incoherent curse of frustration.

"Why did you kiss me back?"

His nostrils flared briefly but he said nothing. It was unfair how much the unspoken words flashing across his face could affect her.

"Reading my heartbeat again? Here's a clue Derek, if you wanna know someone you can just fucking ask them."

"Oh it's that easy huh? I just ask and you pour your heart out, no conditions or complications?" his hand slammed into the door beside her shoulder.

"Dammit Derek why the hell can't you just-,"

"Why would you do that Bonnie? Why the fuck would I think you would?"

"Because I thought we were-,"

"What?"

There was only the sound of harsh breathing and her own blood pounding in her ears. She barely felt the runaway tear. "Fuck you and your obtuse ass, Derek Hale. I at least thought we were friends." she managed softly.

For a few seconds he blinked, as if she wasn't real, then made to move away.

Bonnie was half-turned when his hand caught her waist and slammed her against the door.

There was no hesitance in his lips this time, only the commanding hunger she remembered from before, stealing the air from her lungs, making her fingers curl desperately against his shirt in search of answers.

"Derek," she caught her breath when they parted, and his hands slid under her top, lifting her easily so they were eye-to eye. "Stop playing with me-,"

He braced her against the door, her ballet-flat dangling off her toes "Does this feel like I'm playing?" he whispered between his teeth. The shoe fell off, and her foot wrapped around his leg. He pushed forward so their hips fell in place and Bonnie felt him hard against her thigh.

Nope definitely not playing.

His black hair was soft between her fingers, a shocking and sensual contrast to the graze of stubble against her jaw and the hard press of muscled torso her. Derek's hand travelled up her belly to graze the underside of her bra, resting there almost teasingly while his hot breath caressed her neck. The practical side of her brain was mumbling feebly that they should stop, assess, talk about this. The rest of her was becoming increasingly frustrated by the layers of clothes between their skin.

His thumb brushed her lace-coated breast, lightly, like a question, and she moaned a soft assent against his hair. Hot fingers slid under the lace, finding her nipple already taut with anticipation. Bonnie rolled her hips almost involuntarily so his erection stroked the burning juncture of her thighs, and a groan shuddered through him.

She got her hands under his shirt with a small sigh of satisfaction, scraping her nails across his chest and abdomen, her skin humming with the pleasure of contact. Then her wrists were pinned above her head and through hazy eyes she saw his own flash for a moment - not quite anger, not quite fear - before his mouth claimed hers again, using his free hand to hold her ass in place while he rocked there.

Her trapped fingers clenched and unclenched, craving his skin. Bonnie bit his lower lip, keening, but he only tightened his grip on her wrists, tilting her hips slightly so his hard length grazed her exactly where she needed through her jeans.

When he stopped moving she made a soft protesting sound, then realized his head was tilted, listening alertly for something. His chest rose and fell breathlessly.

Hazel-green eyes swivelled on hers, "Someone's coming." He still held her. The hand at her wrists slid down her arm and across her shoulder, tangling in her tumbled hair. For a moment he seemed to be battling with himself. Then she felt a quick brush of lips against her hair before she was lowered gently to her feet. Bonnie gripped his arms for balance, seeking her lost shoe.

Urgent pounding rattled the door.

Derek's always known the power of the full moon. He talked about the bite being a gift, but on full-moon nights he felt it. His blood pumped with almost invincible vitality. He could hear a leaf fall in a thick forest. Smell the rain tucked deep inside clouds miles away.

Discern the candles burning behind Bonnie's apartment door before he let himself in.

What the...?

A dozen or more candle-flames floated in the air, and Bonnie sat in the centre, legs crossed and eyes closed in concentration.

He could feel the pulse of her magic like a strong, steady heartbeat. The way the candlelight flickered across her shoulders and heart-shaped face caught his throat with a strange dryness.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw set. The candle lights flared and for a second Derek thought she'd hurl them at his head. Instead she took a deep, shaky breath and the flames raced back to the candles in a single flash.

Bonnie stood up, arms crossed.

"That was pretty neat."

Her green eyes flashed, but he could see her lip quiver slightly. "You were gone four days Derek."

"I had to. We needed to follow Ryder's trail while it was fresh."

"And did you find him?"

"No, but Peter says he'll turn up soon enough."

She frowned, "I don't know if we should just wait around for Ryder to turn up. What else did Peter say? Maybe Maya's found some new information on him. I could ask -"

"Bonnie," he cut her off, "I didn't come here to talk about Peter or Ryder or figure out an attack plan."

"No?"

"No...I wanted to see you."

Her lips parted in surprise, but her eyes remained guarded. She shifted her weight onto her right foot, waiting "Well, you've seen me."

Fuck. Dammit what am I supposed to say?

That he'd wanted to come here, come see her, as soon as he realized they weren't gonna find Ryder? That he'd thought of her constantly, even when he tried not to? That he wasn't even sure how she'd ended up in his arms the last time and he didn't know how to make it happen again?

She started gathering candles and putting them out.

"You keep doing this, Derek. Every time I let my guard down you run off and I have no idea what the hell is going on."

"I didn't run off -,"

Bonnie whirled to face him, eyes blazing, "I don't hear anything from you for four days after you...I mean we...," she trailed off, and he sensed the heat rising to her skin.

His knuckles tightened inside the leather jacket. He hated how lost he felt around her.

He didn't want to turn back.

"Look, I'm sorry, I -," he muttered, glancing up at her, "This isn't easy for me, Bonnie."

"You think this is easy for me?" I haven't felt this way about someone since-," she bit her lip,her voice snagging.

Derek closed the distance between them and she watched uncertainly, eyes wide and questioning. Her heartbeat thundered in his ears, insistent and enticing and terrifying all at once.
He was close enough to touch her.

"The last time I felt like this -," he could feel a muscle jump in his jaw, and he scowled at his feet, "It isn't an easy memory for me either."

She was burrowing her toe into the carpet. "Felt like what?" the question was a challenge but he caught the tremor in her voice.

There were too many words inside his chest, some fighting to crawl out, others trying to bury deeper.

Derek swore softly and covered her mouth with his, pushing his fingers into her hair and holding her face between his thumbs. For a moment her lips were passive against the deep and fierce entreaty of his own, then suddenly they were melting wet and sweet as liquorice and he breathed deep enough to fill his lungs with her taste.
Fuck if this was the last time she'd let him near her he was going to give her something to remember him by.

When they parted he felt the brush of her light hands at his waist. He held her face until her eyes opened slowly. "Oh."

"If you want me to get the hell out..," he muttered, nose and mouth buried in the curve of her neck where her scent lingered enticingly. His hands roamed her small back, drinking the feel of supple skin.

Bonnie's arms wrapped around his neck,"What if I ask you to stay?"

Derek searched her face until a small smile appeared there. Then her eyes darkened and she bit her lip.

He kissed her again. She unzipped his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders and he let go of her hips to toss it away. His hands back fastened on her hungrily, drawing her hard against him.

Somehow they were against the wall, and Bonnie arched her hips, her cotton skirt too much and too little at the same time. Derek couldn't quite remember pushing her camisole straps off but his nostrils flared at the sight of her breasts barely covered in lavender lace. They rose and fell with her rushed breathing. When he unclasped her bra and caught the tight nipple between his fingers she gasped into his mouth, bucking. He grabbed her ass and lifted her slightly so the apex of her thighs dragged along his erection and Fuck he could feel her wet heat and smell her arousal as she mumbled his name while grinding into him.

With a soft curse he hoisted her in his arms.

"Derek," she gasped, laughing, hair tumbling all over his face, full of that spiced cinnamon perfume he was beginning to think of as characteristically Bonnie, "I'm a Bennett witch, not some wilting flower."

Without breaking his stride he kissed her hard, taking her lower lip between his teeth. "Good. Next time you can carry me."

****

The moonlight was drowsy from their breath, saturated with panted words

Derek sat her on the bed and Bonnie caught the flash of crimson in his eyes as he knelt to slide her damp underwear off. Her fingers curled into the bedspread She was soaked with anticipation. His breath ghosted up between her thighs, stubble scraping along the soft skin there and making her shiver.

Derek eyes were human again, grey-green like dawn in the forest. When he kissed her hip bone she saw the muscles in his shoulders tighten with restraint.

"Fuck," he breathed against her skin.

It isn't an easy memory for me either.

Something split inside her and her heart fell through.

Words dangled at the tip of her tongue -begging, aching words she'd never imagined herself saying. She'd held on tight for so long, walking the fine line between wilderness and safety. But the ground had started shifting long before she realized and now there was nothing between her and the reckless darkness of a forest sweeping her up so high and fast her breath struggled to keep up. Bonnie fisted a hand in his black hair and and and gave herself to the shadows shuddering inside her as his tongue and fingers stroked her cunt.
Her toes rose off the floor.
She came gasping and wet into Derek's mouth and his low moan of appreciation throbbed against her core. She was still shaking like forest leaves in a storm when his arms laid her down, his mouth trailing a path of kisses from her belly to her lips.

Bonnie dragged her nails up his powerful back and exulted darkly at the shudder that went through him

"You smell fucking perfect,"his voice was half-strangled in her hair.

He fucked her hard, like he was running out of time. Bonnie tangled fingers at his nape and his release rolled through him and she caught her name half-groaned in the curve of her neck and he was panting long and slow with time given back.

That was the first time.

****

His moon-sharpened senses were reeling with the heat of her skin, with the deepening flavors of her wetness as they ebbed and flowed in arousal. He could detect exactly where his touch was needed, but he liked to hear her whisper it, moan it against his lips, demand it with hands clawing at his back.

The second time, he pushed her hard against the wooden bed-frame, taking a long slow lick up from between her breasts to the curve of her jaw.

"Derek...hold on," she panted, shifting her hips, not quite ready yet.

He stopped moving, continuing to suck and kiss her neck, grasping those wonderful thick curls to tilt her head. Then he lifted her higher so she was at the edge of his cock and found her breasts with his mouth, rolling the tight buds over his tongue and relishing the low whimpers he drew from her.

Fuck, Bonnie, I could get lost in you.

He was starving for and feasting on her at the same time.

Then Bonnie was rocking against him, slick and hot and ready. The scent of her made him bare his teeth.

"Derek...," she panted, gripping his shoulders, rolling her hips, trying to make him move inside her.

"What?" he shook with the effort it took to hold still, stealing small sharp kisses.

"Dammit Derek, fuck me."

He lowered her onto his length slowly and they both groaned. For a moment they stayed there, his face against her damp throat, taking a deep breath. "Bonnie..."

"Derek...please..."

Then the storm plunged and he thrust savagely up into her, making the frame thud against the wall.

She cried out his name and he thought the dappled moonlight across her face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

****

The third time was slow, and languorous. Time was a moth trapped and fluttering in a web of moonlight.

Every tip of her body was sharp with sensation. Bonnie lay on her side while Derek lifted her hair and kissed all over her shoulder-blades, running possessive fingertips up and down the pearls of her vertebrae.

She heard a drawer open and the sound of things being moved. When he touched her between her thighs his fingers were liquid coated and achingly gentle. She wanted to thank him but-

"Ohhh-," was all that came out as she moaned into his neck.

"Tell me when," Derek's mouth brushed her ear and she arched into his touch. Slow fingers coaxed her clit until she was writhing, heat flaring between her legs.

He rolled her on her back and she felt him slide carefully into her. "Fuck," the expletive was a ragged groan against her mouth as she raised her hips, taking all of him.

They moved together like dusk shadows through the waiting forest. His sweat-slicked skin sliding against hers was slow and soothing, teasing her, delaying the hot tightness building in her center. Bonnie cried out in protest when he stopped and withdrew from her.

"Come here," he said roughly, pulling her up into his arms. He pushed the hair from her face and held her there, mouth inches from her own. His eyes were pure green.

"Tease," Bonnie whispered. Derek arched an eyebrow, then turned her and lowered her gently on her stomach. He took her from behind, one hand sliding between her thighs to find her clit easily. With each stroke his fingertips inched her closer to release. He was whispering things, half-curses and moaned words. His face rubbed her shoulder, slowly, drunkenly. His breath was the forest shadows ghosting hot all over her skin.

She reached around and grabbed hold of his hair. The pleasure was coiled tight at her center and each rub and thrust pulled it a little looser until it unfurled all at once in a thousand directions and Bonnie couldn't remember what she cried out, only that her voice didn't even sound like her own.

They fell together through a slow rolling fire and lay there spent and mingled like ashes.

She may have whispered, "Stay with me."

The whole night was gathered in his eyes.

Bonnie dreamed of the sky through dancing leaves

Waking up felt luxurious, like a slow swim to shore. Lazy sunlight sprawled across her room. Derek lay on his back, head angled towards her. She contemplated his sleeping face for a second, the sharp line of his nose, the jaw shadowed by stubble

Her fingers barely brushed his jawline when those smoke-green eyes flew open. He hadn't been sleeping after all.

"Hi."

He said nothing, but eyes followed her hand as she drew it back to rest lightly on his shoulder.

Am I really waking up with Derek Hale in my bed?

"What's so funny?" he raised an eyebrow.

She stretched, "Don't worry. It's not your skills."

Something ghostly flickered in his eyes, gone before she could capture it. "I wasn't worried."

The sheet twisted and slipped off as she laughed. "Is a massive ego required to become an Alpha?"

Derek's gaze travelled lazily up from her breasts to her face, darkened with desire. An answering warmth fluttered low in her belly.

He ignored the ringtone for a few seconds before turning away with a muttered complaint.

She sat up when she discerned something was serious.

"Stay there, Peter."

Bonnie sighed inwardly. Something about Derek's uncle hadn't sat right with her from the beginning, but he was pack and Derek trusted him so she'd settled for a wary acceptance.

He hung up the phone. "I have to go. Peter found something"

She watched him pull his jeans on, "Be careful, Derek."
He glanced over his shoulder at her, expression unreadable. Then he was next to her, kissing her hungrily, fisting two hands in her tousled hair. His mouth drew back for a second before crushing hers again, and again until she was almost dizzy.

Derek broke away with a soft groan, "I'm coming back."

"You better."

His nose buried in her hair, like he was reminding himself. "I will."

Maya watched her over the her cup, eyes gleaming through the faint steam.

"How was your night?"

Bonnie swallowed her tea, trying to keep her expression neutral. "It was umm -,"

Suddenly the older woman laughed, "Bonnie, you're so transparent it's endearing." They were seated in Maya's apartment, enjoying pomegranate tea after a successful meditation session.

"I gather the wolf wasn't entirely unwelcome at your door?" Maya's eyes danced with amusement.

Bonnie felt a pleasant warmth down her throat that wasn't entirely from the tea. She savored it, hoping it would linger.

"He wasn't," she admitted with a smile, then she remembered the phone call from Peter. "I'm worried about this whole thing with Ryder and Peter Hale."

"You don't entirely trust Peter Hale?"

"I just have this weird feeling," she shrugged, "It might just be from everything that happened at Mystic Falls. I learned the hard way to suspect first, ask questions later."

The older witch looked thoughtful, "You should trust your instincts, it seems they've served you well so far."

Her cell-phone bleeped. "Excuse me for a sec."

Bonnie watched the message appear on her screen, blinking, making sure it was real.

Derek's in danger you need to get to the Hale house. -Peter

Cold fear coiled around her lungs. The room was a blur as she hastily gathered her things.

Her teacher grabbed her shoulder "Take my car. You'll get there faster."
It took a second for her words to register, and Bonnie realized she was holding out the heavy wolfsword. "Just in case."

She met Maya's eyes and saw the glint of steel there. "I think it's time I met this Ryder."

Bonnie was always a cautious driver, but that afternoon she compensated for years of discretion. The gravel road twisting through the woods failed to deter her. She swerved to avoid a rock and cursed in frustration.

Please be ok Derek.

The house was seemingly deserted. Bonnie clambered out and rushed to the door. There was no one in sight, not a sound except for the wind in the trees and a loose window rattling, somewhere.

She burst through the front door to find only dust and filtered light. "Derek! Where are you?"

A floorboard creaked above her head and she caught a muffled voice. Bonnie ran up the fire-blackened stairs and came up under the open sky and twisted, skeletal branches. The fire had ripped out a section of the upper level like a chunk of flesh.
A lone figure was silhouetted in the greying light.

Peter Hale stood amid the gaping ruin of a wall that was no more.

"Hello Miss Bennett"

The wolves circled Ryder, wary, snarling. Derek took a quick gauge of their surroundings. The warehouse was cramped, few exits and fewer windows.

He snarled, "Where's Peter?"

"Lost a pack member already, werewolf?" Ryder mock-smiled.

Isaac charged the warlock, reaching for his throat "He asked you a question!"

Ryder swerved easily and directed a blast of energy that sent the wolf sprawling. Fire raced along the floor and caught on the wooden beams. Derek leapt aside with a growl and the pack gathered close to him. He raced forward, fangs bared, leaping over the streak of fire Ryder seared on the ground. His claws grabbed the man's neck and Ryder choked out an incantation before his head was slammed against the wood.

"Answer the question if you want to keep your fucking throat."

Ryder's eyes narrowed and suddenly something was wrong, terribly wrong. Derek staggered back, snarling, and the room tilted. The fire was a strange pulsing violet and he fell to his knees as Ryder straightened his collar, a sheen of sweat on his pale face.

"It's a glorious thing," his voice was still hoarse, "Wolfsbane."

Derek tried to lurch forward but the fire-heat was inside his veins, racing like fever, and black splotches blurred his vision. He turned to see his pack on the ground, clawing helplessly, choking.

No. No no no

Ryder's shoe caught him across the face, "Works beautifully with the right spell. Or didn't your little witch know that?"

His ears rang. Something slammed faintly and he gasped for air, unable to hold his breath any longer. There was acrid dust in his lungs.
And then, miraculously, a burst of clean air. He coughed, breathed again, and his blood pumped clear through his body.

Derek rose unsteadily. What the hell

The fire was gone, and he saw Maya advancing on Ryder through the dying smoke. The latter went sailing through the air and landed with a crunch of bone.

Derek lifted him by the throat, Ryder pawing helplessly at his inexorable grip, "Where's Peter."

"Keeping...," he gasped, "a...little witch...company."

It took a moment for his words to register.

Bonnie.

The spray of blood soaked his shirt as Ryder slid to the ground. Derek let the remains of his throat drip between his fingers.

Maya glanced at the fresh corpse disdainfully before striding up to him, "Bonnie's at the Hale house -"
Derek was off before she could finish, the others barely keeping up to him.

"Where's Derek?"

Peter cocked his head, "I'm not good enough? You wound me ."

"You said he was in trouble."

Trust your instincts Bonnie

He sidled forward, "Oh yes, I knew you were trouble the moment I saw you. I hope he enjoyed the ride."

"Go fuck yourself. I'm gonna find Derek-," she whirled around but he was in front of her swift as a flash. His canines gleamed in a smile.

"Don't worry, I'm sure my friend Ryder is keeping him company."

Her fingertips were ice. "You son of a bitch."

Bonnie tried to push past him but he blocked her. His breath snaked up her neck and hair.

"Delectable. Except for the faint undertones of my nephe-"

She slammed her hand in his chest with a quick incantation and he thudded against the wall. He bounded up swiftly and leapt in front of her, blocking the stairwell. "That tickled."

Bonnie took a step back, gathering her stance. The energy rushed up through her veins and out her joined palms, knocking Peter to the ground. He grunted in surprise.

She directed another surge at him and he leaped aside, clearing the stairs. She was halfway down when Peter grabbed a handful of her hair and pinned her to the wall.

"What's the rush, love?" he cut his teeth, "I thought you liked wolves."

The energy seared her eyes but she made herself focus, concentrating on the veins in his temple.

"No delicious sharp remarks? Why I -," he broke off with a pained snarl, clutching his head, and Bonnie knew it'd worked.

Seizing the opportunity she shoved him aside and scrambled down the stairs. She knew she only had seconds before the werewolf healed himself.

Nearly tripping on the porch stairs, Bonnie yanked the car door open and grabbed it. The wolf-sword.

Her arms could barely heft it.

Peter swaggered out, and she extended her arm, "Don't come any closer."

"Don't want more darling?" his grin was blood-flecked and Bonnie drew her shoulders up.

I'm a Bennett witch I won't die at this slimy bastard's hands

Peter's head jerked sharply in the direction of the woods and he growled. Derek slammed into him and they rolled together, fangs bared, biting, clawing.

Isaac, Boyd and Erica circled them, looking for an opening, but the two Hale wolves had a death grip on each other.
Bonnie rushed forward, dragging the sword. Peter snapped viciously at Derek's neck and leaped aside, prowling. Derek threw a quick glance her way, and she nodded. I'm ok.

Boyd and Erica charged Peter, tussling him to the ground, but the older wolf threw them off. She seized her chance. "Derek!"

The sword was heavy and her throw awkward, but Boyd intercepted easily and tossed it to his alpha.

I need to slow Peter down.

She shot directed energy out her palms, catching Peter in the chest. He stumbled and Bonnie rushed forward. Close enough.

She focused hard as she could, trying to rupture the blood vessels in his brain faster than he could heal them.

He snarled and tried to rise but she pushed forward. Fighting the werewolf's rapid healing took every ounce of her concentration, and her temples started to throb. Blood trickled out of her nose and she could taste it on her lips.

Peter's eyes were blue fire, "Is...this...good for you witch?"

"Derek do it now," she hissed through clenched teeth. His arm hitched ever so slightly as he lifted the sword. Then there was a gleam of metal and a strange squelched sound like rotten fruit smashing to earth.

Then snapped energy shoved her backwards and she stumbled to keep her footing. A long deep wolf-growl rolled through the air.

Bonnie looked up and Derek met her eyes as the crimson faded slowly from his own. Blood spattered his shirt and jeans. Sheathed the sword in dark-red slime. Soaked the leaves in a slow widening pool around the two halves of Peter Hale's body.

Peter took longer to burn than most. The fire roared hungrily long after it was dark. One by one the others slipped away.

Boyd stopped briefly and Derek gave him a small nod, "You did well today."

The younger wolf shrugged, "Pack makes you stronger, right?"

He glanced in the direction of the fire one last time before heading off with Erica and Isaac.

Bonnie lingered beside him long after the others left, determined yet unobtrusive. In the flickering shadows her face was grim but calm as she watched the fire. Blood stained her torn blouse and jeans.

His hand found hers without thinking.

There were things he wanted to say and do.

Later.

Her fingers curled into his and she released a breath.

It was enough for now.

The house was blanched and quiet in the moonlight. Like sleeping bones.

Bonnie tried to imagine it before the fire, all white walls and sunny windows and children begging to put off bedtime.

Derek was gazing at the porch, and she wondered if he'd built it with his father, when he was just an eager-eyed teenaged boy before Kate Argent saw him.
Her throat tightened. Maybe someday he'd tell her all the stories.

"You can rebuild it you know," she said quietly, "It'd take time, and it probably won't look the same, but it could still be beautiful."

In the waiting silence she saw his cheek curve slightly, and Derek Hale looked down at her with a smile; dawn through forest leaves, the light angling with steady unexpected perfection.

Green-grey eyes tugged at her like a river current, and she felt it again: her heart in free-fall through a sudden sky.

Bonnie brushed her lips across his cheek, feeling his hand on her back as she lowered from her tiptoes. He held her there for moment and his breath brushed her hair. "Let's go."

They turned away and left the ashes to the moon.