s the same soft flash of
light. And then Meredith stepped back saying, “Thanks.”
Stefan’s low response was, “Thank you, Meredith.” Meredith’s
blue dress was at least in one piece, Matt observed.
Bonnie—whose dress had been slashed into starlight-colored
ribbons—was raising a hand. “Me, too, please!”
Stefan took her hand, and it happened all over again. “Thank you,
Stefan! Oooh! I feel so much better! I hated itching!”
“Thank you, Bonnie. I hated to think I was dying alone.”
“Other vampires, take care of yourselves!” Elena said, as if she had
a clipboard and were checking items off. “And, Stefan, please—” She
held out her hands to him.
He knelt in front of her, kissed both her hands, then enshrouded
them in the soft white light.
“But I’d still like a bath…” said Bonnie pleadingly, as the new
vampire—the tall fit one—and Damon had each sparked a moonlight
glow around themselves.
Mrs. Flowers spoke up. “There are four working bathtubs in that
house: in Stefan’s room, in my room, in the rooms on either side of
Stefan’s. Be my guest. I’ll put some bath salts in each right now.” And
then she added, holding her arms out to the whole ragged, bleeding, dirty
bunch of them: “My house is yours, my dears.”
There was a chorus of passionate “thank yous.”