Stefan arrived at the Salvatore boarding house and looked at Damon.
"Apparently Nik has a peace agreement with Katherine," Stefan said in a tired tone. "Why did you make me ask him for permission?"
"And him?" Damon asked.
"He didn't object, but his cousin Bonnie said she's going to help," Stefan replied. "Don't change the subject."
"Because, my idiot brother," Damon began with the usual speech, "if I don't give him a heads-up, he'll interfere with our plans."
"You… you're not actually considering just killing him? You even stopped killing recklessly? What a miracle," Stefan said with an ironic smile. "Is that a sign of evolution?"
"You've never dealt with that son of a bitch, have you?" Damon shot back in the same tone. "The bastard is powerful, he owns this town, and he's a Bennett."
"What does that even mean?" Stefan didn't understand.
"While you were busy drowning in your guilt, I was out there living in the supernatural world. The Bennetts have a name in that world… I've met vampires over 300 years old who backed off just from hearing the name Bennett," Damon replied, sighing. "Someone who's considered the owner of a town in the supernatural world is not someone I'm going to pick a fight with for no reason."
The Salvatore house fell silent after Damon's explanation.
Stefan absorbed it as if he had just been handed a new chapter of a book he didn't know existed.
"A Bennett… owner of the town?"
The word owner bothered him more than anything else.
Damon poured himself a bourbon, swirling the glass with the air of someone who had seen supernatural empires rise and fall.
"You're still stuck in the school version of power, Stefan," he said. "Physical strength, speed, who bites harder… that's teenage vampire stuff."
He drank.
"Real power is influence and reputation. It's making monsters think twice before stepping into your street." Damon sighed. "Do you really think I go around killing for free when it's not to mess with you? I build my reputation. I'm known for killing vampires older than me, and that creates fear."
Stefan leaned against the table.
"He's a kid."
Damon laughed.
"No. He looks like a kid."
The silence returned.
"Katherine didn't make a deal with him," Stefan concluded slowly.
Damon raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly." Damon set the drink down. "Katherine realized it's not a good idea to fight a Bennett who has a territory and made an agreement."
Another sip.
"That's worse."
—++—
Mystic Falls at night.
Outside, the town breathed in that ancient way — as if it knew something was about to happen.
And in the witches' house…
Bonnie was drawing symbols on the floor with chalk and salt, the magic vibrating like an engine about to start.
Caroline paced back and forth.
"I still can't believe he did this without telling me."
"You're mad about the deal," Bonnie said without looking up. "I don't even think he made a deal. He already admitted Katherine isn't worth it — he probably just put her in her place."
"I am not."
"You're mad because it was with Katherine."
Caroline stopped.
"She tried to kill me."
"You tortured her until she begged to die."
"That's not the point."
Bonnie finally looked up.
"You're jealous."
Caroline opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Huffed.
"He said it was diplomacy. You have to remember he's the owner of the town… whether you like it or not."
Bonnie smirked.
"He said you look hot when you're angry."
Caroline tried to hold back her smile.
"He thinks I'm hot no matter what."
She failed.
"I hate him."
"You love him."
"I hate loving him."
"That's very vampire of you."
--++---
I felt Bonnie's magic falter before I even opened the door.
It's never a good sign to interrupt a Bennett in the middle of a circle.
Still, I pushed the door open like someone arriving late to dinner.
"Before anyone tries to rip my heart out — which would be rude — I didn't make any deal with Katherine."
Both of them looked at me.
Bonnie with irritation.
Caroline with… other things.
"She's not alone," I went on, leaning against the doorframe like this was casual conversation. "There's a Bennett helping her."
The chalk snapped in Bonnie's hand.
"There's a what?"
"A Bennett. Witch. Lineage, drama, probably strong opinions."
She stared at me like she was deciding whether to kill me or the stranger.
"She's helping Katherine?" Bonnie asked.
"Apparently. Terrible career choice."
Bonnie put her hands on her hips.
"That's family betrayal."
"Technically," I raised a finger, "we're a huge family. Statistically, someone was bound to be the disappointment. I always thought it would be me when I turned into a vampire."
Caroline let out a muffled laugh.
Bonnie pointed at me.
"I'm going to torture her."
I smiled.
"Glad to see that spirit."
"No, seriously," she went on, now excited in a slightly terrifying way. "She betrayed the name, she's helping Katherine, and she's powerful? Great. Finally someone interesting to test and see how far she can go."
"That's my little sister," I said with fake pride. "Functional psychopath."
Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"If Grams finds out before I do, I'm never going to hear the end of it."
"Grandma's going to love it," I replied. "Lineage drama is basically an elderly witch's favorite hobby."
She took a deep breath, already more amused than angry.
"When I find this girl," Bonnie said, pointing at nothing, "it's going to be slow. Painful. Educational."
"Record it," I suggested. "For academic purposes."
Bonnie gave me that dangerous smile.
Then she looked at Caroline.
Then at me.
"I'm leaving," she announced. "Because if I stay, I'm going to have to watch this weird tension."
"What tension?" I asked, offended.
"You two," she said. "Disgusting. Call me when there's a war."
She walked out laughing to herself.
The door closed.
Caroline
And then it was just her.
Caroline trying to look angry.
Failing miserably.
I took two steps forward.
"You were jealous."
"I was not."
"You tortured a thousand-year-old vampire."
"She touched you."
"I didn't make a deal with her," I said more quietly. "I just wasn't going to help the Salvatores when there's a new Bennett on the board. That's called entertainment."
She tried to hold back a smile.
"You're impossible."
"But you missed me."
She didn't answer.
She just moved closer.
Her hands gripping my shirt.
"You should have told me."
"I'm telling you."
I touched her face.
And that was the moment the anger disappeared.
"I choose you," I said, not joking this time.
She kissed me like it was a threat.
I laughed against her mouth and pulled her by the waist.
The most controlled vampire I know completely losing control is an almost religious experience.
She shoved me against the wall.
I lifted her effortlessly.
Her legs wrapped around my waist.
Her hands opening my shirt like she was personally offended by the buttons.
"You're mine," she whispered.
"Always."
The table behind her.
Her body against mine.
The kiss growing deeper —
and I stopped thinking about anything else.
---++---
And then it was just her.
Caroline trying to look angry.
Failing miserably.
I took two steps forward.
"You were jealous."
"I was not."
"You tortured a thousand-year-old vampire."
"She touched you."
"I didn't make a deal with her," I said, my voice lower. "I just wasn't going to help the Salvatores when there's a new Bennett on the board. That's called entertainment."
She tried to hold back a smile.
"You're impossible."
"But you missed me."
She didn't answer.
She just moved closer.
Her hands fisted in my shirt.
"You should have told me."
"I'm telling you now."
I cupped her face.
And that was the exact moment the anger disappeared.
"I choose you," I said — no teasing this time.
She kissed me like it was a threat.
I laughed against her mouth and pulled her by the waist, and the control she carried like armor shattered in seconds.
The most controlled vampire I know losing it completely is almost a religious experience.
She shoved me back against the wall.
I lifted her effortlessly and she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer like she couldn't stand even an inch of distance.
Her fingers moved to my buttons, impatient, tugging my shirt open like the fabric had personally offended her.
"Mine," she whispered against my lips.
"Always," I answered.
I walked us forward until her back hit the table.
She gasped when I pushed her down just enough to lean over her, my mouth moving from her lips to her jaw, to her neck, slow and deliberate, feeling her pulse jump under my mouth.
Her hands slid under my shirt, over my chest, nails dragging just enough to make me tighten my grip on her waist.
The room was full of the sound of our breathing, of fabric shifting, of the table scraping slightly against the floor when she pulled me closer again.
Her jacket fell somewhere behind us.
My shirt was open.
Her fingers in my hair.
My hand at her thigh, lifting it higher around my hip.
The kiss deepened — slower now, heavier, like neither of us wanted to rush the moment.
And then I stopped thinking about anything else.
Scene cuts.