Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: FYI, we have now made a time jump. You can assume some amazing writing progress has been made in which the story has been propelled forward and this is where they are at now, several days later. This is all for you, Roi, btw. This story would not exist without your suggestion I turn Alex & Emma into a Delena fic : )

About this chapter's title… well, it's kind of how I'm feeling about my writing at the moment, and I'm taking it out on Damon…

WRITE TO LIVE

~ Blah ~

"What happened tonight?"

Emma had gotten so used to seeing him waiting for her outside her door that she didn't even flinch at the question coming out of the darkness of her hallway.

"You really should stop showing up here, Derek."

"You called in sick two days in a row, Emma. Pretty stupid seeing how I can watch you on stage every night."

"You haven't come into the club all week, Derek," Emma rolled her eyes and unlocked her door.

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I wasn't there."

"Well, if you were there tonight, you'd know nothing happened," she shrugged and walked inside.

"I didn't mean on stage. I meant after. You didn't come out like you usually do," Derek said, helping her out of her coat.

"You're stalking me now?" Emma looked up at him over her shoulder, stepping away and leaving him holding her coat.

"Coffin is dangerous."

"Says Kitty Kat…"

"Don't tell me you've fallen for his charm," Derek scowled.

"Of course not. The man's a shark. Or a piranha."

"Piranha? Where did that come from?"

"He keeps piranhas… in his apartment," Emma added under her breath as she walked over to the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"No," Derek waived her offer of caffeine. "In his apartment? When were you in his apartment? Why were you in his apartment?"

"Tonight. He invited the girls up for drinks after closing."

"All the girls?"

"Yes, Kitty was there too."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Kitty Kat doesn't talk to other women, she glares and hisses," Emma said and flopped down on the couch with a glass of water.

"Did you find anything out?"

"You mean like the combination to his safe? No, not yet."

"You say that like you think you can get it."

"I'm sure I will."

"How?"

"Well, I've noticed how Coffin always locks the money in the safe directly after closing, counting it himself in his office. The only other person allowed in there when he does is Kitty."

"Kitty?"

"Yes. So I suspect she was indeed trying to set you up by getting you to break in."

"You don't know that, though. Just because she's allowed in his office while he's counting the money doesn't mean…"

"Oh, please, she's totally messing with him and he's too blinded by his infatuation for her to see it," Elena exclaimed.

"Why are you so quick to think the worst of Kitty?" Damon sighed, leaning back against the couch with his arms behind his head.

"She's flirty and flighty and… I don't trust her."

"You think Derek should confront her?"

"I think he should drop the case altogether and help Emma's brother to get his life back on track."

"He can't drop the case! Emma's life is on stake here too!"

"How so?"

"You think Coffin won't put two and two together? Figure out she's on Smythe's payroll?"

"So he does care about her…" Elena mused.

"Of course he cares."

"Good."

"You like Emma, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I think she's resourceful and she doesn't use her body to get what she wants."

"Like Kitty?"

"Exactly."

"I need to use the bathroom. We'll continue when I get back, all right?" Damon said and got off the couch.

"Take your time, I'm gonna get another pot of coffee going," Elena said and headed into the small kitchen.

The door to the bathroom had just closed when there was a knock on the door.

"Damon? Someone's at the door," Elena called out, but received no response.

Another hard knock.

"All right, I'm coming," she called out and walked over to open the door.

"Well, hello there," a man drawled, looking her up and down. "Did Mr. Salvatore take on a roommate?"

"Uh… no, I'm his stenographer."

"Oh, stenographer, you say? A beautiful woman such as yourself?"

"I don't believe my appearance has any consequence to my line of work, Mr. …?"

"Oh, please, call me Nicholas," he said smoothly, extending his hand.

Elena reached out to shake it, but instead he brought her hand to her lips. "Enchanted to meet you Miss …?"

"Elena Gilbert."

"Elena…" he said as though he was tasting the name like a fine wine, sloshing it around before deciding whether to spit or swallow. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Elena said and withdrew her hand. "Mr. Salvatore is indisposed at the moment. Would you care to wait?"

"Why, yes," he smirked, stepping past her into the apartment. That's when Elena noticed the two men behind him, looking very much like trouble. "Wait outside," he said over his shoulder and the two inclined their heads and stepped back, letting the door close behind him.

"So how do you know Damon… I mean, Mr. Salvatore?"

Nicholas smiled at the slip of her tongue. "Damon, is it? Have you known each other long?"

"I'm just here to help him type his novel."

"Oh. How's that going?"

"You'll have to ask him. He's the writer."

"Mr. Salvatore and I have mutual interests," the man said, cryptic, cracking his knuckles.

"Ok…" Elena said, moving over to the kitchen. "I was just getting some coffee, would you like some?"

"He's not staying," Damon's voice proclaimed, cold as ice.

"Mr. Salvatore… I just stopped by to check up on your progress, and I met this lovely lady," Nicholas smiled politely as he gestured to Elena.

"You'll have your money on the agreed date," Damon said in a clipped tone.

"I should hope so, Mr. Salvatore… or I will have to see to it that all distractions are removed from your life," he said in a dangerous voice, casting a meaning glance at Elena.

"You have made your point," Damon said between clenched teeth.

"Very well, I shall leave you two young kids to create… well, whatever it is you create," he said and turned around. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gilbert," he smiled at Elena before exiting the apartment.

"Damon, who was that?" Elena said in a whisper as soon as the door had closed.

"We should get back to work," Damon said and sat down on the couch.

"Damon!"

"We have less than a week left before I need to have this novel finished, Elena. There's no time to waste."

"You owe him money, don't you?" Elena said, sitting down with her stenotype.

"Who?"

"That guy who was just here. He's the one that's threatening to kill you, isn't he?"

"Yes. Now can we please get back to work?" Damon said in a clipped tone.

It was late when Derek returned to his apartment. He and Emma had had the usual argument about her putting herself in danger, and as per usual, his well-laid arguments had fallen on deaf ears. He was surprised to find a distraught Kitty waiting for him.

"Derek!" she exclaimed when he approached her. "I've been so worried," she said and threw herself around his neck.

"Why?" he asked, enjoying the feel of her delicate arms enveloping him.

"I think Klaus suspects something."

"What? There's nothing to suspect."

"He's never let me into his office when he's counting the money before. I think he's testing me."

"Did he let you see the combination to his safe?"

"Yes. Klaus is a paranoid man, it doesn't make sense. I'm scared, Derek."

"We will sort this out, don't you worry," Derek said reassuringly, looking deep into her teary blue eyes.

Kitty sniffled and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "What will you do?" she looked up at him with wide eyes, her mouth puckered into a perfect pout.

"I'll think of something," he promised.

"You know," she said seductively, a glimmer in her eyes, and trailed his chest with one of her long, perfectly manicured blood red nail, "if Klaus gets in trouble with the big boss, I will be all alone in the world."

"Not for long, Miss Kitty."

"Maybe…" she played with his top shirt button and looked up at him under dark lashes, "you would like to keep me company once he's gone?"

"Maybe," Derek swallowed thickly.

"Good," she said in a chipper voice and released him, heading towards the door. Derek was left staring after her, his mouth hanging open just a tad. He reached up to make sure he wasn't actually drooling.

"You can't be serious!" Elena exclaimed.

"What?"

"She walks in, turn on the flirt and he's reduced to mush? What happened to confronting her?"

"Who said I was… who said he was going to confront her?"

"Well, it's what needs to happen. He should tell her to either be completely honest with him or walk away. He and Emma are in enough trouble already."

"He's just a man, Elena."

"Well, I think he could be a better man. If he would just stop to realize what's right in front of him."

"And what, pray tell, is right in front of him?"

"Emma."

"Sorry?"

"He clearly has feelings for her, and she's good for him. She challenges him and makes him step up his game."

Damon rose from the couch and walked over to the window, running a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? My novel sucks, Elena, that's what's wrong! I can't think! Ugh!" he slammed his fist against the brick wall.

"Damon!" she ran up to him, taking his hand in hers. "Come on," she said and tugged on him.

"Where?"

"We're gonna get you cleaned up and we're going out."

"Out?"

"Yes, out. We've been cooped up in this apartment for three weeks, of course you're going stir crazy."

"Elena, we don't have time…"

"What we don't have time for is you being difficult," Elena said determined and pulled him into the bathroom. "Now, where do you keep the antiseptics and cotton balls?"

"Top shelf, right corner," he nodded towards the cabinet over the sink.

"Sit down," she gestured to the toilet.

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?"

"Please?" Elena tilted her head.

"Well, since you ask so nicely…"

Elena doused a cotton ball with antiseptics and started wiping at his knuckles. Damon winced as the liquid came in contact with his bruised skin.

"Baby…" Elena muttered, amused.

"Say that a little differently and we'll have a problem…" Damon wiggled his eyebrows. "Or, should I say, your boyfriend will have a problem…"

"There, all cleaned up," Elena said quickly and threw away the used cotton ball. "Let's go."

"How long have you worked as a stenographer?" Damon asked as they were walking through the park, eating ice cream and enjoying the sunny day.

"A couple of years now."

"Do you like it?"

"It pays the bills," Elena shrugged.

"But it's not what you really want to do with your life?" Damon guessed.

"I took English Lit in college, I wanted to be a writer. I just… didn't have it in me, I guess. So I settled for making my living in a profession which revolved around words. And I enjoy it. Most days," she said and sat down on a bench by the small pond in the park.

"Is that why you have such strong opinions about my writing?" Damon said and sat down next to her.

"No. I mean, yes, writing interests me, but it's not that I think you're not good at it…"

"Gee, thanks," Damon chuckled and tapped her nose with his ice cream.

"Hey!" Elena cried out.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist," Damon said sheepishly and grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. "There… all better?"

"Still sticky," Elena moped.

"Oh, pouty…" he mocked. "Here… let me help with that…" he said, leaning in, only to end up with an ice cream cone on his face.

"Now I feel better," Elena smirked and got off the bench.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that…" Damon said and went after her. Giggling, Elena dashed through the park, not caring that she was acting like a kid. She sprinted and made it all the way to Damon's apartment building before he caught up to her.

She squirmed as his arms locked around her waist and managed to reach the door to pull it open. A neighbor was just coming out and Damon let go, realizing the situation may look peculiar. Elena took the opportunity to slip inside and while Damon was stuck exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Flowers, she made it up the stairs.

As the door was locked, she had no choice but to wait for him to come up, and she used this breathing time to catch her breath, and lower her heart rate. What was she doing? Why did she suddenly feel like a giddy school girl around him?

"Ok, you win," Damon threw up his hands as he took the last steps up the stairs.

"Yay! What's my price?" Elena joked.

"You, milady, get to help me wash this ice cream off," he smirked and unlocked the door.

"Yeah right," Elena rolled her eyes as she stepped into the apartment. "I think you're fully capable of handling that yourself."

"I don't know about that, maybe I…" Damon stopped mid-sentence. His joking smile fell and he looked as though he'd been struck by lightning. "That's it!" he exclaimed, overjoyed. "Thank you!"

Elena looked at him, puzzled.

"I know how to finish this story!"