A/N: The Finale. A short epilogue for my BBs. =-))

Chapter 8

"Hello"

"Damon, it's Stefan."

"Stefan. Where the hell are you?"

"Relax. I'm great!"

"Did she marry?"

"She did!"

Damon was confused. "She did? but why are you…"

"Happy?" Laughter was evident in Stefan's voice. "She did marry. She married me."

"What?"

"I just called to tell you that she and I will be home in two weeks. We're staying here for a while."

"You actually got married without us?"

"I didn't want to give her time to change her mind."

"That's always a good move." Damon answered dryly.

"Well, tell Bonnie and Caroline and Tyler okay? We'll have a second wedding when we go back."

"Okay, man. Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

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Stefan could only stare at the sleeping woman by his side, trying to memorize the tiny details of her face. She was so beautiful. His wife. He smiled to himself as he sounded out her name in his head. Elena Salvatore. Who'd have thought they'd end up together after those long years of being apart?

"What are you thinking?" her voice broke into his reverie as she rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of her sleepiness.

Stefan smiled at Elena in the dark. "You." He answered simply.

She smiled back. "You're such a sweet-talker." she teased him, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Only with you." He whispered as he reached out to caress her face. "I love you."

"I love you too." She whispered back.

"Do you want a grand wedding when we go back to Mystic Falls?" he asked, letting his hand fall from her face and began to run his hand along her arms, stopping at her hips.

She thought about it for a while before finally answering. "Not really. Our wedding was perfect the way it was. A small celebration will do." They had gotten married the very same day they'd seen each other again at the church, with only the priest and a church assistant as witnesses.

"Babe, I don't think they would allow you to get away with just a small celebration." He stated a bemused smile on his face. Of course, he is referring to her two best friends, Caroline and Bonnie. "But the more pressing question is that are you ready to face their wrath? I don't think they will be too happy with us getting married without them. "

She laughed. "Yes, I think so. And besides I have you to protect me."

"Oh no, this is all you. You are the one who came up with the idea of getting married right then and there. Couldn't wait to sink you claws into me, huh?"

"Shut up!" she shouted and proceeded to pinch his cheeks. "And I did not hear any protests coming from you. And besides, I am not getting any younger. You can't exactly introduce a 26-year old woman as your wife while you look like 17 years old forever," she said simply.

His heart skipped a beat. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Yes," she replied cupping his face, all traces of humor is gone from her voice. "Stefan when I said forever, I meant it. I want spend eternity with you. I want you to turn me."

"I love you," he simply replied, because honestly there are no words can justify what he feels at that moment.

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"What are you doing?" Stefan asked his wife as she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He was only wearing his pajama bottoms as he ladled the soup he'd managed to cook them at her apartment's kitchen.

"Feeling the cook," she trailed off , "and tasting him," she continued as she dropped a small kiss on his nape. "Mmm…yummy."

He shivered as he felt her tongue on his skin. "You're going to make me drop the soup," he warned her.

"And I care because? " she teased him, undaunted by his warning.

"You haven't eaten in hours," he reminded plaintively although he dropped the ladle back into the pot and placed the cup he'd been holding in his other hand back onto the counter.

She didn't bother to answer him. Instead she dragged him towards the wall and pressed herself onto him.

"Elena…" he couldn't help the physical reaction her actions had elicited in him.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled as she dropped light, nibbling kisses down his throat, while her hands busied themselves with unbuttoning the pajama top she was wearing.

"I," Stefan couldn't continue. He wondered briefly if he'd managed to turn the stove off before she'd distracted him but couldn't for the life of him remember. Elena had finished unbuttoning her top and had just stepped closer to him so he could feel every curve and contour of her body as they fit perfectly against his.

"You," she continued to tease him as she skimmed her fingers down the sides of his body and ever so gently slid them inside the waistband of his pajamas.

Stefan seemed to suddenly come to his senses and before she could even react, he'd already carried her and had her sitting on the kitchen counter near the sink. She squealed as he stepped in between her thighs, the pajama top already off her shoulders and pooling by her hips.

He looked up and met her mischievous gaze with an equally mischievous one of his own and slowly, gently, he poked his tongue out and licked.

She gasped at the contact and pulled him even closer.

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As predicted, her two best friends guilt trip into having a small wedding at the back of the Salvatore Boardinghouse with only close family and friends in attendance.

It was a wedding straight out of a romance novel.

The bride was barefoot as was the groom.

She looked like a gypsy, clad as she was in white cotton shift, her unbound hair blowing gently in the wind, with a posy of white calla lilies in her hands. Little pearls, woven through her tresses, gleamed brightly in the sun.

He looked like a green-eyed Indian prince in a loose white kurtah and matching cotton drawstring pants that flapped gently in the wind.

The wedding entourage was similarly clad in loose white cotton frocks and matching polo shirts and pants.

The woods was a picture of calm and serenity, reflecting the fading light of the sun as it made its way slowly to the west, and the sky was like an artist's palette, a mix of hazy blues, oranges, pinks, and purples.

She looked up at him. He looked down at her. With hands entwined they said their vows as their matching rings glowed, warmed by the sun.

And then they kissed.

Sweetly.

Softly.

Intently.

As though the act itself was a vow.

A promise.

A pledge.

And just like all weddings before it, they faced the crowd as one.

FIN!