@designedrecovery for my ‘manda. <3
“ This is never going to work.”
Bonnie purses her lips while holding her phone to her ear and pretending to shop. “ Don’t be such a negative Nancy, Stefan.”
“ I’ll have you know my middle name is Negative Nancy.”
She hopes he can see how done she is from wherever he’s keeping watch.” You’re just grumpy that you can’t do it.”
His grunt lets her know she’s right and he doesn’t want her to be so right. “ You’re in the line of fire if something goes wrong.”
“ I am, but she’s also a witch, so technically, everyone she can see and spell is in the line of fire if something goes wrong. But nothing will, because she will believe me and then we’ll find out what her partner looks like and you can go beat him up.”
He’s frowning. She can feel it through the phone. “ Baby, I believe in you. But you’re not a good liar. That’s what this is. You’re essentially lying to this woman.”
“ I thought we agreed I was undercover.” That’s why Caroline dressed her in this apparently very necessary miniskirt and ankle boots. You have to look cute, if you look all frumpy, she won’t believe you have such a hot boyfriend because if he loved you he wouldn’t let you leave the house like that.
“ And I thought we agreed that I was going to do all the dangerous stuff and you were going to. . . not.”
“ Oh Stefan. . .” Dammit, she can’t afford for her heart to start melting for her sweetheart vampire boyfriend when she’s supposed to be a spy. She shouldn’t distract herself looking for him, to see the stubborn pouty look on his face because he wants to protect her and he can’t. The frown and the hand in the pocket (when it isn’t waving through the air) and his explaining why it should be him down there to get hexed or whatever and she should be in the food court where it’s safe.
Well. Not the food court. He’d argue that wasn’t any safer than being in front of an enemy witch. God only knows when the last time any of their equipment was cleaned or what factory their ingredients come from.
“ I’m not in the store.” That makes her huff. Which makes him chuckle. “ You can’t see me, but I can see you.”
“ But can you see her?” Bonnie hopes she looks somewhat inconspicuous with her Foster Grant shades. Well, she’s trying them on. They might be hers soon. Depends on if she completes her mission with their help.
“ I’d rather look at you.”
The brightness of her own smile in the many mirrors surprises her. “ Stefan please.”
“ It’s true.” She pictures that smile on his face. The one that’s slight, but solid. The confident charm of a Stefan-pire. “ She’s coming in right now and you’re the much cuter witch.”
She’s smiling big and bright again. Well she’ll certainly be believable now. “ Tell me what she’s wearing.”
“ Ugly clothes, that’s why she’s shopping for new ones.”
Bonnie has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing too loud.
“ Caroline was right, he doesn’t care about her. I would never let you out in public in leopard print leggings and hot pink heels.”
“ Oh you wouldn’t, huh?” At least now she has a target. One that isn’t hard to miss.
“ Of course not. I’d keep you home so I could stare at you in private.”
Jesus, she loves him. “ I will see you in a little while.”
“ I won’t take my eyes off you.”
Bonnie knows she must be blushing when she ends her call. Biting her lip to try and contain her smile and get herself into character. She has to somehow casually approach this woman, casually enter into a conversation about how good (or bad) boyfriends in general are, casually get a description of what her boyfriend in particular looks like all so Stefan can find who’s been snacking on families in the park and movie theater. Since apparently this vampire’s witchy girlfriend cares enough to cover his tracks.
If she cares that much, she shouldn’t mind talking about him to perfect strangers, right?
Bonnie gets her chance before she’s actually ready. Still in the process of composing herself, the witch in question happens upon her near a clearance rack and smiles knowingly. “ I know that kind of smile. Your boyfriend just buy you a present?”
Oh, well, that’s half the work done for her, isn’t it? “ Oh, umm. . .” Oh God, oh God, oh God, say something Bonnie. “ He’s . . . probably just planning a surprise.”
The woman in hot pink heels makes a noise of interest. “ Ohhhh. Surprises are good. Surprises tend to be sexy where boyfriends are concerned.”
“ He’s sexy all the time.” She doesn’t even think about it. It just flies out of her mouth. Bonnie reddens immediately. “ I mean, he’s a great boyfriend.”
“ You’re lucky, the sexy ones usually aren’t.” This time the woman tsks and puts back a modest navy pair of slacks and instead picks up a canary yellow button down. “ They aren’t much for smarts either. Or anything else but sex.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that. “ Uhh. . .”
“ Oh, don’t pay me any attention, honey. You get like that eventually when you marry young.” Then quietly (or what she thinks is quietly) the woman mutters, “ and blood-sucking.”
“ You’re married?” There we go. Change the subject. Good job Bonnie. “ Are you shopping for a surprise then?”
“ Hah ha!” There’s about as much scorn as there is actual humor in that laugh. “ He should be so lucky. No, I’m just treating myself. I’d ask if your boyfriend is treating you, but he obviously is by the smile on your face.”
“ Ohh. . .” This prompts Bonnie to put her hand to her cheek. Her modesty is definitely not a lie. “ I, uh. . . he’s pretty wonderful.”
“ Let me guess,” the woman begins as she turns her full attention upon her. “ He’s tall, dark, handsome? Athletic? On the high school football team? That’s where the good ones start anyway. . .”
It happens again. Bonnie doesn’t even think. She just answers honestly. The words fly right out. “ Well, he was. He didn’t stay very long because he didn’t like it. Too violent. He doesn’t like to fight. He likes to read, and he really likes history. It’s his best subject, you could say. He’s so smart, gosh, I mean, really smart. I could ask him anything from the industrial revolution, or American Civil War and he’d know without even thinking hard about it.”
There’s the solution to her bad lying problem. Completely tell the truth at all times, just pick the right time. Which is apparently now as she cannot stop talking about her wonderful vampire boyfriend.
“ And he always takes such good care of me. He’s always there when I’m sick or I feel bad. He’ll say or do anything silly to make me laugh. He’d do anything for anyone, he’s so kind. Everyone thinks he’s all broody and grumpy, but he’s really funny. . .” She only just now realizes that she’s been going on and on about her own boyfriend. How long has she been talking about Stefan? “ But the rest is right, he is tall, dark and handsome. And he cooks too.”
She hopes Stefan is listening. The other witch certainly is.
“ Man, I gotta get me one of those. . .” The other witch purses her lips. “ That is nothing like my Markos. He can’t even figure out the microwave half the time. Or the time on it! He’s full-blooded Greek for God’s sake, and he’d burned water if he could turn the stove on!”
Scratch that, she hopes Stefan is not listening.
He might actually kill him just for that. She’s allowed to get away with bad cooking because she’s so cute. And Stefan likes to teach her. And not-teach her because sometimes they get distracted, but it’s really not her fault! He’s so sexy when he’s cooking and then he gets behind her and shows her how to cut something, or mince, or slice, or dice and then well, there’s no more cooking. In fact, if Stefan doesn’t remember to turn the stove or oven off, there’s burning.
Whoops. She’s supposed to be paying attention.
“ --and the one time he does get off his ass to make me something, it’s spicy, watery hummus! His dolmas have so much garlic, he should drop dead in the kitchen!”
Bonnie is sure to frown at that. Because humans don’t drop dead from too much garlic. Unless they’re allergic. In which case they wouldn’t be cooking with it. She thinks. She’ll have to ask Stefan. He might also just kill this Markos for that; nevermind the ‘family meals’.
Hot Pink Heels realizes she has misspoken. “ I mean, he’s kind of allergic to it. Not like peanut butter, like instant death, like it makes him sick.”
“ Well, even if it did turn out . . . badly.” She’s trying, here, she’s really trying. “ If it makes him sick and he still tried to make it for you, he’s still trying. He cares enough to do that. Not just anyone would chance making themselves sick just to make you something to eat. Even if they can’t cook. Especially if they can’t cook.”
Her reasoning seems to soften Hot Pink Heels a little. “ Hmmm. . . I guess you’re right. He is a lazy ass, and I was pretty mad at him after finding out that he’s been spending all his time eating somewhere else.”
Bonnie does her best to snort derisively. “ What’s better than home-cooking?”
“ The park apparently. And movie theater.”
Welp. Now it’s just gotten nice and complicated.
If Stefan’s still listening, she’s positive all this has just aged him another hundred years.
So she clears her throat and tries to hurry this along. If biker and mob movies have taught her anything, it’s that staying undercover too long is the worse thing you can do. “ Oh, I go to the park a lot. Maybe I’ve seen him, what does he look like?”
“ A piece of shit.”
The noise Bonnie makes is between a snort and laugh.
Hot Pink Heels sighs and readjusts her purse. “ Aside from that, you know, he’s tall, dark, handsome. Darker skin than mine, but not quite as dark as yours. Green eyes, black hair, dimples, my God, the dimples. What I do for those dimples, sweetheart! One time, on his birthday, of course--”
Stefan is listening. Because her phone rings at just the right time. “ Oh, hang on.” She’s all too happy to never hear the end of that sentence.. “ Hey, babe. I’m almost done in here.”
“ You were done at ‘tall, dark and handsome’, actually.”
“ Well, I’m not wrong.” And Hot Pink Heels seems inclined to agree. She’s smiling again; knowing who that is she’s talking to. “ Did you get what you needed?”
“ Nope.” Oh God, Bonnie thinks. She’s going to have to continue this conversation now. She’s going to have to listen to a total stranger’s trashy sex story just to save lives. It’s come to this. “ I haven’t gotten you back yet.”
. . . dammit Stefan. Giving her a heart attack for no reason. “ Oh, look at that. You’re single.”
“ Well I don’t want to be single. I want a girlfriend. There’s a cute little one in the store right now, I could just walk in and carry her out of there--”
“ Okay, okay, I’m leaving!”
So much for her career as a spy. Bonnie is quick to say goodbye and hurry out of the store. “ So what now?”
“ What now?” A voice answers her through the phone and also close by? Of course, Stefan isn’t on the second floor like she left him. He’s right around the corner. In plain sight. He’s so bad at this undercover thing. “ Now I take you home and go talk to this Markos. Convince him not to take his relationship problems out on shiny happy people.”
His arm slings itself over her shoulders and her own arm goes around his middle in kind. “ Convince as in talk, or convince as in, break his neck?”
“ Well obviously I have to break his neck first. He’s Greek and he doesn’t know good hummus--I mean, I can’t allow that. None of this would have happened if he could actually cook. Drinking blood is no excuse for ruining food. You have to be exceptionally cute and little and witchy to get away with that kind of thing.”
“ Oh look that, you’re single. Again.”