Damon and Bonnie's eyes landed on the dress simultaneously.

It was a knockoff, but as close to the organza perfection worn by one of their favorite primetime television characters. Orange was replaced by a bright red and he didn't even want to imagine the way the color would accentuate the golden undertones of her skin.

Her eyes brightened as she took in the length of the design and snatched the dress from the rack. He'd been reduced to a shopping buddy, the purse holder, but at least he was with her. He felt her phone vibrate while the older white - haired lady who used the word honey way too much helped her into the elaborate contraption. He ignored the tremors, she was with him, it couldn't be important. He forced his hand to the bottom of the leather satchel and retrieved the bubblegum pink case.

He groaned reading the name of the sender and quickly erased the message.

Senior prom was less than a month away and today was the day that she found the dress. Bonnie's words not his. He listened as she babbled incessantly over breakfast each and every carefully planned detail. He knew about the limo, the reservations at the restaurant that cost way more than an unemployed reformed emo slacker could afford. The curse of his hearing had made him privy to the details of the honeymoon suite reserved by the three girls completely enamored by all things prom. Was she going to sleep...he couldn't finish the thought. It made him sick to his stomach and if this damned phone didn't stop pulsating somebody was going to die.

Today was their day. The set period of twenty - four hours per week that he received where she concentrated only on him. Not Elena and her doe eyes, Caroline and her baby talk and squeals, and sure as hell not her boyfriend and all the dopey sentiments he dropped in her ears.

Damon fought the urge to trash the phone when it went off again; instead he typed a one word reply, filling each letter with the irritation he felt.

What!

Within seconds the phone shook in his hand.

You okay.

He smirked.

I would be better if you would just die already.

His response was a dead give - a - way, if the younger Gilbert didn't know he was in charge of Bonnie's phone then he was a bigger idiot than he originally thought.

Where's Bonnie, bloodsucker?

Gold star for the Clearasil spokeswhore.

Busy...go away

Why couldn't this kid take a hint?

WHERE IS BONNIE!

He imagined the taste of Jeremy's blood on his tongue and then remembered the pain associated with one of her special aneurysms.

Go yell at someone who can't kill you.

His fingers were beginning to hurt.

Texting was an art reserved for communicating with his favorite little witch, not insulting people who didn't deserve his attention. He was too busy grumbling, muttering, and cursing under his breath to notice her exit from the dressing room.

Absolutely breathtaking, if his lungs were capable of filling with air, then it would have all escaped once his eyes met hers.

Why did she always hold her head down? Didn't she know how...her words broke through his clouded thoughts...?

"It's too much."

He shook his head, struggling to find a response, a special brand of his off color humor that wouldn't highlight the complete pussy she'd made him.

He failed.

"You're beautiful."

His fingers skimmed her collar bone before resting on the smooth contours of her shoulders.

"I can make a few suggestions about your bowtie and cummerbund if you'd like to coordinate your ensemble with her dress. Maybe an ascot, you strike me as the old - fashioned type."

Damon interrupted the woman's fashion musings, "She's with someone else."

That one sentence hurt more than his first turn at death.

Bonnie's eyes remained locked on Damon's as the elderly sales clerk led her to the seamstress for a few alterations. He paid for the dress, alterations, the perfect pair of stilettos, and he left a nice tip for the Betty White look - a- like.

Damon hurried from the boutique before Bonnie could see the growing disappointment in his eyes.

Running from Bonnie led Damon to the one person he thought kept them apart.

XoXo

"Gilbert, we need to talk."

Damon Salvatore hated Jeremy Gilbert. Despised everything about him, the texture of his hair, the dimple on his chin, and the fact that he had the one thing on this Earth that he wanted more than a garage full of muscle cars or Elena to admit that he was the hotter, better brother.

Jeremy had Bonnie.

Damon watched as Jeremy's shoulders straightened and squared. He had balls and that was something that impressed the undead man. Maybe it was the ring on his finger or foolish pride. The kid brushed the tip of his pool stick with the cue and leaned over the table, cracking the balls apart. Not once did he cut his eyes in the vampire's direction.

"I have nothing to say to you."

In the blink of an eye, Damon snatched the white ball from the table, "Then listen...you can do that?"

Jeremy reached for the ball and cursed under his breath when Damon held it from his grasp. He gave up, walking away from the table, grabbing his jacket on the stool, and heading for the door.

"I want Bonnie...no scratch that...I need Bonnie."

Shock factor that was the only tactic Damon could use to stop Jeremy from walking away. He expected anger. Anticipated outrage, but he didn't think a human could get the upper hand on him, 145 year old master of deception.

Jeremy slammed him to the table and wrapped his hands around his neck. He didn't fight back, accepted the vengeance enacted upon him and waited for the urgency in the attack to pass.

He gasped for breath that he knew never would come; ignored the onlookers who stared and whispered.

"Stay the hell away from Bonnie." Jeremy's voice boomed with a newfound bass, "Leave us the hell alone."

He was in denial; surely he'd seen the signs, read the obvious chemistry between them when the witch and vampire were together. That was the only logical reason for his hostility, minus the one little trivial attempt to end his life with the snap of a neck.

Damon knew for a fact that Jeremy questioned why Bonnie saved him first on New Years Eve - why she constantly spent time with the vampire in the name of friendship.

"When she stays away from me, then I'll leave her alone."

There were no further outbursts just threats and words that remained unspoken.

Jeremy tugged at the ends of his freshly cut strands, "I don't understand you, first you stalk my sister, profess your love, and now..."

Damon shrugged, "Its Bonnie, can you honestly verbalize why you can't go an hour without hearing her voice or a night without tasting her lips."

"Actually, I can." Jeremy moved closer to Damon, new confidence surging within him, "It started the first day we met."

He shook his head unwilling to believe the hype but he listened as the teen know it all, painted a mental picture that he found mesmerizing; a six year old Bonnie Bennett, just as fiery and cute as she was now at the age of seventeen. Jeremy referred to it as the day she stole his heart.

A dull ache started in the center of his chest where his heart once beat.

They had history.

Damon would have Bonnie's future.

"Cute story, what are you going to do, build a marriage on a sweet little crush you developed when you were five?" He circled the table, rolling a ball in the center of his hand, "You really think she wants to spend her life protecting you - keeping you out of trouble."

Jeremy stood eye to eye and toe to toe with Damon.

"I know she doesn't want you."

Again he gave him credit for false confidence, but he couldn't wait to end this kid's arrogant stance.

"We'll see about that."

It was a challenge and a promise.