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.

WRITE TO LIVE

~ Epilogue ~

Elena checked the client's name - Ames, Kingsley, Austen & Hardy. It was the same as Damon had used to lure her to his apartment in the first place. Who would have guessed there would be an actual law firm by the same name?

As she entered the spacious lobby, she was greeted by a smiling receptionist. The large sign on the wall behind her said Ames, Kingsley, Austen & Hardy. Guess she was in the right place.

"Uh… I'm Elena Gilbert. I'm the stenographer."

"Right. Welcome. Mr. Ames will be with you shortly. If you'll please follow me…" the young woman rose from behind the reception desk and showed Elena into an empty conference room.

Elena set up her stenotype and waited for the door to open. When it did, she almost jumped out of her seat and strode out of there.

"Please, just hear me out…"

"You would think about fifty ignored calls would send someone the message that the person they're trying to reach doesn't want to talk to them," Elena huffed.

"I need your help. The ending's all wrong. My editor thinks it's fine, but I feel it's lacking something…"

"Damon…"

"Please… let me just get this out. When we're done, you can walk out that door and I won't bother you ever again, if that's what you want."

"Fine," Elena said and positioned her fingers.

Emma didn't come into work the next day. Or the day after that. Derek tried calling her, but some other girl answered her phone and told him Emma had decided to quit. He asked this girl to pass on a message. Emma had to give three week's notice before she could leave.

He was rewarded with Emma's appearance the following day. She sat down at her desk and answered the phone, patching all of his father's calls through and generally making his day miserable. As five o'clock drew near, he was exhausted.

"Emma, could you come in here, please?" he called out and waited for the clicking of her heels against the floor.

"I was just getting ready to leave, Mr. Smythe," she said coolly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You can start by calling me Derek again, Emma."

"I would rather not, Mr. Smythe."

"Emma, please… I'm sorry. I was a jerk."

"Yes. You were."

"I had been drinking, I didn't know what I was doing. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"No."

"Ok. Then… can we continue to work together? You're the best secretary I've had, Emma, and I would hate to lose you over something so stupid as my thickheadedness."

"Very well," she sighed deeply. "Will that be all?"

"Yes."

"Goodnight, Mr. Smythe."

"Goodnight, Emma."

With Emma back in his life, at least on a professional level, Derek's days seemed a little bit brighter. Then, one dark stormy night, a long-stemmed dame walked back into his office.

"Derek, I have been such a fool!" she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms.

It was all he had wanted. Her soft body pressed against his, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils, her smooth skin against his cheek. Yet, there was something so wrong about this. He realized then that the things he had felt for Kitty Kat were as fake and shallow as her stage name. He pulled away, holding her at arm's length.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kat. I am not open for business at this time. Please come back tomorrow and make an appointment with my secretary."

"I don't want an appointment!" she spat. "I want you!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Kat. That is not the type of services we offer here. Perhaps one of the clubs will provide them for you."

"Derek!"

"Goodnight, Miss Kat," he said determined and waited for her to leave with her tail between her legs. So to speak.

As Derek sat back down in his chair in his now empty office, he felt at peace. He had come to realize that having Emma in his life, even if it was just professional, was worth more to him that a thousand Kitty Kats. He could, however, go for a Kit-Kat right about now… THE END.

"Elena. I'm sorry I messed up. Katherine means nothing to me. She has no place in my life anymore. I told her as much when I went back to the café. I don't want anyone other than you in my life."

"That's nice and all, Damon, but…" Elena rose from her chair.

"I'm thinking of writing another novel," he blurted.

"What will it be about?"

"This beautiful, talented stenographer that speaks her own mind and isn't afraid to call the jerk she works with out on his crap."

"Another failed attempt at comedy?"

"No. I'm thinking full-fledged romance."

"You don't write romance novels."

"Then I guess I'll be needing a stenographer that will keep me on the right track…" Damon smiled.

"Stenographers are hard to come by these days…"

"I happen to have someone in mind for the job…"

"Oh? Are you sure they're available? Or willing?"

"I'm prepared to beg."

"Begging is unbecoming."

"Then don't make me do it," he said and walked over to her, cupping her face with his hands. "Will you give me a chance?"

"Well… you will most definitely be lost without my help…"

"Completely," he agreed.

"And I could probably give you some pointers…" she said pensively, looking into his eyes.

"Definitely."

Their lips were inches from meeting when Elena stopped. "Wait – whose office is this?"

"My editor's. He charged me a fortune for the sign, but it was worth it."

"But your next book… we'll be working out of your apartment, right?"

"Yep."

"Then we should get back there," Elena said and put her stenotype back in its case. "I seem to recall your inspiration flowed the best up on the loft…"

"It did indeed…" he said, content with her suggestive smile.

"Come on then," she said, grabbing her case and heading towards the door. She looked over her shoulder and winked. "We should get those creative juices flowing, don't you think?"

Damon was quick to heed her advice.

THE END