What if instead of leaving the Grill after a few shots with Damon, Bonnie decided that going on a road trip with him was a good idea?
"Ugh, I'm tired of this. I'm tired of this town," I muttered, downing yet another shot.
"Then leave," Damon said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Pack a bag and leave."
"And go where?" I shot back. "It's not like I have a lot of family to spend Christmas with."
"You have witchy visions. I'm sure there's someplace you want to see," he said, daring me to say no.
"Well… I want to check out New Orleans before the no‑magic rule gets put in place, but…" I hesitated. "The French Quarter is crawling with vamps."
"Well then…" Damon smirked. "Sounds like a road trip."
"No way." I shook my head. "I'll probably set you on fire before we even get near New Orleans."
"Oh come on, Bon Bon. Live a little." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
"Why do you even want to come with me?" I asked, genuinely confused. We weren't friends.
"What? You think I want to stay here with my brother and his girlfriend — who, by the way, is a copy of my bitch of an ex — staring at me every time I walk into a room?" he scoffed. "Saint Stefan thinks I'm depressed and dangerous. Elena gives me pity stares. Hard pass."
I stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Stefan and Elena were annoying little shits. If they were getting on my nerves, I could only imagine what Damon was dealing with.
"Fine. Let's go party in New Orleans," I said, smirking. "I want to see ancestral magic. And the town is basically a vampire playground — you'll feel right at home."
Damon downed my whiskey and flashed a toothy grin.
"Let's get the show on the road."
6 hours later
"She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean—" Damon belted out.
"Next," I groaned, rolling my eyes and changing the station.
"Oh come on, witchy, that one was good," he complained. "If you put on Justin Bieber, I'll drain you dry."
I recognized the next song instantly and smirked.
"You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset—"
"NO." Damon lunged for the radio. "No goddamn Taylor Swift in my car. Stake me already."
I laughed so hard I nearly cried. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
6 hours later
"Finally," I sighed as I stepped out of the car, breathing in the humid air of the French Quarter. "I was starting to go insane."
"You don't say," Damon muttered. "One more pop song about teen romance and I'd have met the sun willingly."
"Drama queen. Now let's find a hotel."
"How about that one?" he asked, nodding toward the Royal Sonesta.
"If you're paying, sure. That's probably the most expensive hotel in the Quarter."
"Come on. How can I stay in New Orleans and not stay on a street named after my favorite alcoholic drink?"
I snorted. Fair point.
24 December, 2009
We partied, we danced, we got drunk, and then we partied again. I should've known drinking with a vampire would give me the most hateful hangover of my life. Why didn't I make hangover potions before leaving? Ugh.
"Get up, witchy," Damon called, knocking loudly on my door.
"Go to hell," I groaned, burying my face in the pillow.
"I thought you wanted to see some witch cemetery. We don't have all day."
"Does it have to be today?" I growled as I opened the door.
"Well, Christmas is tomorrow. Today's perfect," he said, smirking at my disheveled state.
I slammed the door in his face. He could wait an hour.
We visited the cemetery — well, I did. Damon wasn't thrilled about not being able to enter sacred ground, but who cares. I checked a few graves, felt the magic in the air, and left before any French Quarter witches noticed me.
We spent the rest of the day wandering the Quarter — me taking pictures, Damon commenting on how juicy some tourists looked.
We were heading back to the hotel when three vampires appeared out of nowhere and snapped Damon's neck before he could react. One of them punched me in the head, and everything went dark.
When I woke up, I was on the floor of a bar. Damon was still out cold beside me. At least fifteen vampires surrounded us, and one very familiar face sat in front of me with a drink.
"Well hello there. I'm Marcel," the dark‑skinned man said, smiling.
"I'm Bonnie. Why did I get kidnapped?" I asked calmly.
"Well, sweetheart, your boy toy over there has a daylight ring. In this town, only my vamps get to walk in the sun," he said, as if explaining something to a toddler.
"Sunlight ring? Vamps?" I widened my eyes. "What are you talking about? Are you on drugs?"
"Poor, poor human," Marcel laughed.
I hid my smirk. Oh, I was going to troll my way out of this.
"Please let me go," I whispered, trembling. "I just want to go home."
"She smells delicious," one vampire commented.
I had the sudden urge to set him on fire.
Before I could, Damon woke up.
"Who the fuck broke my neck?" he growled.
"I did," Thierry said proudly.
"You're dead," Damon hissed.
"Calm down, cowboy. You're in my town — you answer to me," Marcel said, standing. "Now, where'd you get that fine piece of jewelry? Only my inner circle walks in the sun."
"From a witch, obviously," Damon snapped.
"That so?" Marcel smirked. "Grab him."
Two vampires tackled Damon to his knees.
"Bring me the girl."
Two more grabbed me and dragged me forward. Marcel seized my arm.
"Now start talking," he said to Damon. "Or your girl here becomes dinner."
Damon blinked… then burst out laughing.
"Seriously?" he smirked. "Now you've pissed her off."
Before Marcel could blink, I grabbed his arm and used the same spell I'd used on Damon the first time we met — the one that forces every old wound to replay at once.
The King of New Orleans dropped to his knees.
I enjoyed it.
The other vampires rushed me, but Damon started snapping necks left and right.
"Let's get the fuck out of here — we can't take them all," he said.
I nodded, grabbed his arm, and focused on a spell I'd barely practiced. It would hurt. I'd probably wake up with a nosebleed.
But nosebleed > dead.
In a blink, we vanished from the bar and reappeared in the hotel room.
I passed out immediately.
Worth it.
"Ugh, my head," I groaned.
"Easy there, Wicked Witch of the West. You used some strong juju and you're all messed up," Damon said from the driver's seat.
"Where are we?" I asked, noticing we were on the road.
"A few hours from Mystic Falls. You slept almost twelve hours," he said. "I got us the hell out of that town."
"Thanks," I muttered, wiping dried blood from my nose. "You actually had my back."
"Well, I couldn't let my road‑trip partner get drained by some douchey vampire," he said. "Think of it as your Christmas present. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas," I whispered, falling asleep again.
"Oi, Glinda, wake up," Damon said, shaking my shoulder. "We're home."
"Annoying," I mumbled.
"Wake up or I'm kicking you out of my car."
I opened my eyes immediately. "Douche."
"You know it, sweetheart."
"This doesn't make us friends, Damon," I warned.
"As if I want to be besties with a grouchy witch like you," he shot back.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag. Before heading inside, I turned back.
"Hey, Damon."
He looked up.
"Enzo's alive. Happy Christmas."
Before he could respond, I skipped toward my house and shut the door behind me.
The house was empty and dark.
I sighed.
"Happy fucking Christmas."