Chapter 14

Well, yes sir, yes sir, yes it was me

I know what I've done, cause I know what I've seen

The penthouse was quiet as Damon continued to stare out the window, his hands shoved deeply in his pocket. Caroline was still in the bedroom feeding Sawyer, leaving Stefan and Alaric with the annoying task of staring at him like he was going to make a running jump for the window at any moment. His mind was on an intense overload, bombarding him with every moment he'd ever shared with Elena, the good and the bad.

When she knocked on that door, she turned everything upside down. It was a trait that only Elena possessed. With one look, she could tilt his entire world on its axis, either in sheer happiness, or agonizing despair. Even after all this time, she still held tight to that ability, and today she'd used it flawlessly. He was supposed to be preparing for his wedding, instead, he was frozen with thoughts of her racing through his mind, and nobody could make it better.

A knock sounded on the front door and Damon tensed with dread. The last time he'd heard a knock on that door it hadn't ended well; he wasn't looking forward to who it was this time. He turned around and watched as Stefan cautiously opened the door. The moment he saw his father standing on the other side, he knew he had reason to worry.

Stefan, like the idiot he was, opened the door wider for his father to enter. Giuseppe took a moment to look around the room and when his eyes landed on Damon he knew that his father knew that things weren't right. "Please tell me you're not having second thoughts," he sighed.

"What are you doing here?"

"You are, you're having second thoughts." His father rolled his eyes, making it clear how unhappy he was with the situation. "You're just never going to learn are you?"

"Learn what? How to be a gigantic asshole like you? No, I don't think I'll ever quite reach your level, but don't worry, I can always keep trying."

"You're never going to grow up," his father snapped at him. "You are almost 33 years old and you perpetually act like an emotion driven teenager."

"No, Dad!" he shouted. "I act like I'm not dead inside. I know that's a foreign concept to you, but it doesn't mean I haven't grown up. Believe it or not, I do handle my responsibilities, unlike you."

"I'd hardly relate your actions to anything remotely resembling maturity."

Damon groaned and shook his head. "Just leave. I don't want you here."

"You need to remember that you have obligations here, Damon. People are expecting you to get married today. You can't just back out."

"Who said I'm backing out?" he shouted. He looked to his brother for support. "Stefan, am I backing out of my wedding?"

Stefan, who was staring at the floor like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen in his life, finally glanced up to Damon and then to his father. With resignation, he shook his head and said, "No, he's planning on going through with the wedding."

"This is about Elena, isn't it?" his father scoffed and then grimaced. "You need to stop letting that girl mess with your head. She's a bartender for crying out loud. She's nothing."

"She hasn't been a bartender in years and you know it!" Damon exploded. "You don't know anything about what happened between me and Elena!"

"You need to learn how to let the past go, Damon. Elena was nothing but a phase where you decided to go slumming with a woman who spent her nights flirting with intoxicated men. You should have known better than to try and bring her into your world. She didn't fit."

Damon swallowed thickly. "You need to leave."

"Okay, I'll leave, but first, you need to get yourself together. Whatever is going on with you and Elena let it go. She's nothing and the sooner you realize that, the sooner we can get on with the day. You're the one who decided to get married again, so you are going to go through with it. You will not embarrass me by standing a woman up at the altar. Do you hear me?"

Damon looked away from his father, unable to look at him anymore. "Yeah, I hear you, loud and clear.

"Good." His father ran his hands over his suit jacket, a calmer look on his face. "I will see you at the chapel. Stefan," he glanced to his younger son, "Do me a favor and make sure he shows up sober. He's embarrassed the family enough."

He stared at the floor until he heard the front door shut and Stefan and Alaric released a collective sigh. "You okay?" Stefan questioned.

"Fine," he bit out.

Stefan's feet appeared directly below his eyes. Slowly, he looked up to meet his brother's gaze. "I don't care what he said; you don't have to go through with this. Say the word and I'll call it off."

Damon pushed his brother out of the way and walked toward the hallway in the penthouse. "Just leave me alone, Stefan." He couldn't be around them right now. He needed to be alone.

"Son, can I talk with you for a moment?" Damon looked up from a stack of papers on his desk to see his father standing just inside his office, a serious expression on his face.

Even if he didn't look so serious, he would immediately know that it was something big. His father never came down to his office. For working in the same building as his father, he could surprisingly go weeks without ever even seeing him, something that worked very well for him. He and his father didn't have what could ever be mistaken as a close relationship. His father seemed to have perpetual disappointment for every decision Damon made, while Damon would never be able to truly let go of the man his father turned into when his mother died.

"Sure, take a seat." He sat up straighter in his chair as his father closed the door and came to sit down. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he questioned sternly.

He stared at his father, his mind blank, as he tried to draw upon everything he'd done since the last time he saw his father. All of his business deals had gone fine in the past few weeks. He couldn't remember firing anyone or pissing anyone off more than usual.

And then it hit him.

"This isn't a business conversation is it?" he asked warily, already knowing the answer. At his father's nod, he released a slew of curse words in his head. "I'm gonna kill him," he grit out. Stefan was the only one that could have possibly told his father that he'd gotten Elena pregnant. It was the only explanation. "Well, since the cat's out of the bag. Congratulations, you're going to be a grandfather."

"So, she's keeping it?"

Damon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his father would start off with that. "Yes, dad, she's keeping the baby."

"And you're sure that it's yours?"

"Well, she's not Katherine, so I'm gonna say yes." He couldn't keep the sarcastic comment inside of his own mouth.

"Still," his father shrugged. "It can't hurt to be sure. You never know with women nowadays."

"Dad," he leaned forward and looked his father square in the eyes. "It's my child."

He seemed to accept his and he relaxed back in the chair. "Okay, so then I'm correct to assume that you're going to be part of the child's life."

"That's the plan." If he had it his way, Elena would be already moved into his apartment, and he'd be a full time parent to his child.

"I want you to bring her over for dinner tonight. I'd like to meet the woman carrying my grandchild." His gut instinct was to say no. Bringing Elena to his home, to have dinner with his father, would be like sending her into the middle of a war. She was a tough girl, but subjecting her to an evening with his father was just cruel and unusual punishment, something he did not want to inflict upon the woman carrying his child. "The dinner is non-negotiable."

Knowing he had no other option he nodded his head. "Okay, we'll be there."

"Good," his said, but there was still an appraising look in his eyes. "What's her name?"

"Her name is Elena," he said cautiously.

"And her last name?"

Damon immediately tensed at the question, and he felt the intense need to protect Elena. "You don't need to know that."

"She's carrying my grandchild; I'd like to know her name."

Damon leaned forward, pointing a finger in his father's direction. "I'm not giving you her last name so that you can run a background check on her before you even meet her."

His father shrugged, looking like he had no idea why Damon would think such a thing, but Damon he knew better. He knew his father well enough to know that he wasn't just asking because he was curious. He was asking because he wanted to get as much information as he could about Elena before he met her. His father did not need to know anything about her that she did not want to share.

"Alright then," he sighed and raised to his feet, buttoning the jacket of his suit. "I will see you on Sunday." There are no congratulations to him about becoming a father, not even a smile; he just turned and left his office. He shouldn't expect anything else, though. His father never was the warm and fuzzy type. He wasn't even mild.

Knowing that he couldn't take his frustrations out on Elena, he picked up the phone and called his brother. Once he'd thoroughly chewed him out, he could call Elena and inform her of their dinner plans.

"Hey, Damon." Stefan answered after the second ring.

"I hope you've enjoyed married life, because I am going to come over to your house and fucking kill you."

"It slipped," Stefan immediately confessed. "We were having dinner and he made a comment that made me think he already knew. I'm sorry."

"You better be, because you're dead."

"Come on, it couldn't have gone that badly."

"He wanted me to take a paternity test, and that's after he asked if she was keeping it."

"Okay, so it could have gone better," Stefan admitted with a sigh.

"He's insisting that I bring her to dinner tonight. So, go see your lawyer, get your affairs in order, and have some sex with Caroline, cause knowing father like I do, it will not go well. And you are the one I am going to come murder when Elena tells me that I'm never to see my child."

"Elena won't do that and you know it."

"For your sake, you better hope so."

He hung up the phone and immediately fled his office. He couldn't tell Elena this over the phone, it had to be done in person. They already had plans to spend the evening together and discuss a few things about the baby, but he had a feeling that would not happen anymore. If he was lucky, she'd agree to let him see the child once a year. His father was going to absolutely rip her apart.

"Change of plans." Damon announced after Elena opened the door to her apartment. "We're not going out to dinner tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because, my brother, in all his infinite wisdom, told my dad you're pregnant. We have to go to his place for dinner tonight."

"Okay," she shrugged, unfazed by the sudden turn of events. "What should I wear?"

"Kevlar." Damon walked into Elena's bedroom and stood in front of her closet. "However, seeing as you don't have any, how about this?" He pulled a navy dress out and held it out in front of him.

"That won't be too nice?" she questioned nervously.

"My dad really likes blue." Damon's mother had eyes even more flawlessly blue than Damon's, and for as long as he could remember; his father had gravitated toward the color. Didn't matter the shade; he loved the color, especially after his mother passed. It probably wouldn't get Elena far, but it might give her a point or two. "Trust me."

Elena reached out and grabbed the dress from Damon's hand. She looked it over before sighing and setting it on her bed. "Okay, so what time do we have to be there?"

"Seven."

"I guess I need to hop in the shower then." She smiled as she closed the small distance between them and slid her arms around his neck. "See you at 6:30?"

"I'll be here." He tugged her hips against his and leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. It was gentle and short, knowing they could not afford to get carried away, and too soon, they were parting with contented sighs. "Don't freak out."

She smiled and patted his shoulders gently. "Somehow, I think you're freaking out more than me. Parents love me. I'm awesome." She cringed and placed her hand on her flat abdomen. "Granted, I've never gotten pregnant by any other guy I've dated."

"If my dad doesn't fall in love with you, he has no taste at all." He rubbed a hand down her back and reluctantly stepped away. "I need to go handle a couple things with the office and then I will see you in a bit."

"Please don't be drunk," she pled with him as he exited her bedroom.

"I make no such promise," he called back.

"Asshole!"

He had no intentions of getting drunk before dinner with his father. He knew from previous experience that it never ended well. It was fun to annoy Elena with the possibility though. His real intentions were paying a visit to his darling baby brother. One, he needed to steal his hair gel, hit him where it really hurt. Two, he needed to know exactly what he was walking into with his father. He needed to know how his father reacted when Stefan dropped the bomb.

It was easy enough to find a taxi and soon he was casually entering a large lecture hall at NYU, where his brother was currently teaching an introductory literature class. A student who was sharing a thought with the class quickly fell silent and soon all eyes were on him. "Please, do not stop on my account." He found an empty seat in the front row and went about making himself comfortable. "I'm just here to observe Professor Salvatore, make sure nothing inappropriate is going on, especially in the way of student/teacher relationships." He turned to look at the class. "They are highly frowned upon here at NYU."

He glanced over to see his brother cringing as he leaned back against a table and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think I can safely say there are no inappropriate relationships going on here. I'm just trying to teach my class."

"No, I suppose you are right," he accepted easily. "If only I'd gotten here just a little bit sooner. Relationships between TAs and students are frowned upon as well."

"Well, I'm not a TA," Stefan snapped. "Now can I please continue on with my class?"

"The rules didn't exactly stop you when you were one. Remind me, Stefan, just how did you meet your wife again?" He rubbed at his forehead, making a show of trying to remember some lost detail in the back of his memory.

"Okay, class dismissed!" Stefan jumped forward and motioned that everyone could leave. "I will see you all on Wednesday. Just leave your papers on the table down in front."

Damon hopped to his feet and went to Stefan before too many students could start racing down the stairs, excited to be out of class early. "You didn't have to do that on my account."

"What are you doing here?" Stefan hissed. "I don't just barge into your job and ruin meetings."

"And you wouldn't, my job actually means something. You just talk about books that were written hundreds of years ago and still have the same meaning now that they've always had. I actually do things."

Stefan continued to smile and say polite goodbyes to his students as they handed over their papers. "I already told you I was sorry. I didn't mean to say anything."

"Well sorry isn't going to cut it. Elena is under some delusion of grandeur that Father is just going to fall in love with her like we all have and welcome her with open arms. We both know that her welcoming dinner won't go anything like that."

Stefan's head darted over to look at Damon. "Like we've all what?" he sputtered out. "What do we all feel for Elena?"

Realizing his words, he snapped two fingers in his brother's face. "Figure of speech. Focus, Stefan."

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Cause I'm dropping that." He continued to accept papers from students now slowly filing out as he tried to stay focused on whatever argument it was they were about to get into.

"I picked out a nice dress for her to wear, but we both know that won't work. She's screwed. There's no way around it. Dad will hate her, and I will come straight for you after I have to spend my night trying to beg for the chance to know my child."

"For the last time," he groaned, "Elena would not do that to you."

A tall blonde stopped in front of Stefan to hand her paper over, but Damon reached forward and grabbed it from her. "You get an A." He winked flirtatiously at the young college coed, who giggled in response.

Stefan snatched the paper from Damon's hands and said, "He's about to have a child." The girl's face fell and she stumbled back before turning to flee the room. "See you on Wednesday, Lacey." He turned disgusted eyes on Damon. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Spare me the lecture." He roughly shoved Stefan. "That's for telling dad that Elena is pregnant. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I thought he already knew!" he defended himself.

"Unless the words coming out of his mouth were "Damon is having a child", he didn't fucking know!"

"If you hadn't waited so long to tell him, you wouldn't be in this situation and you know it."

"And why the hell would I want to tell our dad that I'm going to have a child? We know how he's going to see this. He's going to see some 22-year-old bartender that looks like Katherine, who I'm not dating, but is now pregnant with my child. He's going to look at this the only way he knows how: money. How do you think he's going to react once he knows all of this?"

"You're right, he probably isn't going to welcome her with open arms, but I don't think he's going to outright insult her. She's going to be the mother of your child. That means something to him."

Damon felt a quick surge of anger rise within him. "What planet did you get dropped off from?" he snorted. "Children don't mean anything to dad. You want proof, look at us. He couldn't be bothered with you most of the time, and me, he spent all his time riding my ass into the ground, making sure I knew every single thing I did wrong. He also makes it very clear that nothing is ever going to be good enough for him."

"But he wasn't always like that," Stefan spoke quietly. He didn't hold the same anger with his father that Damon did. He'd taken something completely different away from his childhood. He may not like how his father sometimes behaved, but he didn't blame him. He was far more forgiving to their father than Damon would ever be. "He wasn't like that before mom died. You know that better than anyone. He was a good dad and then mom was gone, and I think he was just gone too."

"And how is that okay?" Damon snapped. "Yes, mom was dead and it sucked, trust me, it still sucks. He still had a life though. We were still just kids, Stefan. You see mom's death as the reason he is the way he is. I see it as an excuse, and a poor one at that. He was still supposed to be a parent. He was still supposed to be there for us, instead, he practically abandoned you and spent most of his time emotionally abusing me. He's not a good dad. He's not misunderstood. He's just a shitty person, and that's why I didn't tell him about this. Because for the first time in my life, this isn't going to be about me. It's going to be about a child that doesn't deserve what he will bring into its life. Mom might not have been able to protect us, but I will protect my child, even if I have to go through him."

"Okay, okay." Stefan held his hands up in a show of surrender. "I'm not the enemy here. You need to just calm down." He lowered his arms and took a step toward Damon. "If you walk into dad's fired up and ready for a fight, it will be bad. Just stay calm. If not for yourself, do it for Elena. She doesn't like confrontation and she won't understand it."

He eyed his brother skeptically. "What are you getting at?"

"From what I've gathered since I've known Care, Elena was always really close with her family. She had a really good relationship with her parents. She's not going to understand how you feel about dad and that your relationship with him has always been horrible. She'll probably think it's her fault." He took a deep breath. "So, just stay calm."

Damon groaned and rolled his eyes. Stefan had a point; he knew that. He'd only upset Elena if he got angry with his father. This situation was bigger than him. He needed to figure out how to keep the biting comments to a minimum tonight. It might be the roughest night of his life, but he needed to try.

"Okay," he finally acknowledged. "I'll try to stay calm."

"Good." Stefan released a small sigh of relief. He turned to the table behind him and began gathering all of the papers and placing them in his messenger bag. "And please do not ever show up in my class again."

"I don't know," Damon smirked, "You have some pretty hot students."

Stefan tossed his bag over his shoulder and turned to face Damon. "You know as well as I do that you're not serious about hitting on any of the girls in my class. You have gotten yourself in deep with Elena." He laughed quietly. "Leave it to you to do everything backwards."

"I'm not deep in anything. I am comfortably afloat in my sea of sex."

Stefan grimaced. "Please leave now."

"My pleasure." Damon reached out and punched Stefan lightly on his arm. "I think I'm coming down with a case of the book smarts. I feel icky."

Damon gladly left the large lecture hall and caught a cab outside of the building. He made it home in time to change and return to Elena's. When she opened the door dressed in the navy dress he'd picked out, he knew he'd made the right choice. She was simply breathtaking. Her hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, drawing all attention to the simple dress that accentuated her long legs. If his father didn't accept her into the family, especially since she would be the mother of his child, he didn't know if he would ever be able to look at him the same way ever again.

There was no way anybody could deny that Elena was simply one of the most flawless human beings on this planet. There wasn't a malicious bone in her body. She was kind and loving. Realizing he cared about her had been a scary revelation; especially since it came the same night he found out she was pregnant. As the days passed, the fear eased and he now realized that he'd never stood a chance. From the moment he met her, he was under her spell, and developing feelings for her had only been inevitable. He might still be scared about having a child and his ability to be a good father, but he had her. As scared as she was too, if they had each other, they'd be okay. He knew that.

"What?" Elena questioned self-consciously as they rode up the elevator to his father's floor. She nervously tugged at her dress and ran her hands over her face. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, trying to pull his mind back to the present moment. "No, you look perfect."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he insisted.

Now it was his turn to tug at his jacket and smooth back his hair. With each passing second, they were closer to the gates of hell. His childhood home did not hold the warm, happy memories like Elena's did. After his mother died, it was like a cold cloud settled over the penthouse. Everything seemed dark and depressing. There were no cozy meals around the table. There was no one to clean up any cuts or take care of injuries. He only had expectations that he had to meet, and agonizing consequences if he failed. Once his mother was gone, nobody ever told him that he was good enough for something, and that he would do better next time. He just had his dad and he was brutal.

For that, the first chance he got, he was out of the house and he never came back. In fact, the only reason he'd returned to New York was because Stefan was staying here. He loved his brother and couldn't imagine leaving him alone in the city. Then he'd started working for his father because it was what had been expected of him his whole life. It was only a welcome surprise that he enjoyed what he did and rarely had to interact with his father at the office. He'd become a master over the years at spending as little time with him as possible. Now, he was practically willingly walking into the lion's den and dragging Elena along with him. She wouldn't know how to adapt to this, to how things were in his family. She would be lost and confused and he wouldn't know how to make her understand.

"Stop fidgeting." Elena scolded Damon, pushing his hand away from his collar that was hanging open loosely. "You're making me nervous."

"You should be nervous."

"And stop saying things like that." He flinched when she slapped his shoulder. "I am actually nervous about your father meeting me for the very first time because I happen to be knocked up. This isn't exactly an ideal situation I'm walking into."

"Not to mention the fact that you can't even drink," he pointed out as the elevator doors open directly into his father's penthouse.

"And for that, you're not drinking either," she hissed at him.

His head turned comically toward her, his eyes wide. "You wouldn't dare." He didn't get drunk before showing up, she couldn't take his alcohol from him while here. He depended on that alcohol.

"Damon, come on in, son." A deep voice interrupted her threats of forbidding Damon from alcohol. "And introduce me to the woman carrying my grandchild."

Elena swallowed nervously as Damon's father's gaze settled on her, taking in the dress that Damon had picked out for her.

"Father," Damon greeted him tightly, his hand finding Elena's, trying to offer her some amount of support and gain some from her in return. "Just smile," he whispered at her as he walked her further into the penthouse. "Dad, this is Elena."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Salvatore." She extended out her free hand to shake his and followed Damon's instructions to smile.

"Please call me Giuseppe." He gripped her hand in a firm handshake, his gaze moving over to Damon. "Quite the resemblance to Katherine."

He could feel Elena flinch at the comparison between her and Katherine. "In looks only, dad, but hey, let's continue to insult Elena anyway. It should make this dinner that much better."

"No need to remain in the entryway the entire night. Sharon should be putting the salad on the table right about now. Elena, I do hope that lamb will be okay with you for dinner." Giuseppe ignored the snide comment from Damon, placing his attention back on her.

"Yes sir, lamb is fine." Damon hoped that she would be able to make it through dinner without getting sick. He was quickly learning that morning sickness was really a complete load of bullshit. Some days she spent most of her time in the bathroom. Whoever came up with the term "morning" in morning sickness needed to be hanged.

"Please tell me you were joking about the alcohol," Damon whispered to her when his father turned and began to guide them to the dining room.

"Yes," she sighed, rolling her eyes at his desperation. "But I swear, if you get drunk, I'm leaving you here."

"I'll do my best."

Dinner actually started out relatively peacefully with Damon remaining mostly silent, and Giuseppe asking general questions to try and get to know Elena better. He seemed perfectly calm and polite, and with growing dread, Damon could see Elena's guard lowering. His father was going to go in for the kill the moment he sensed it.

Before he had a chance, Elena's fork fell to the plate in a loud thud. He looked up to see her face drained of color and her eyes pleading with him from across the table. "Hallway, second door on the left." He immediately said to her, his finger pointing in the direction for her.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out a breathless apology as she slid her chair back across the hardwood floor and fled the dining room.

"Turns out morning sickness isn't really a morning thing," he tried his hand at the joke as Elena disappeared down the hallway.

His father turned to peer down the hallway before looking back at Damon. He casually set his fork down on his plate and leaned back in his seat, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. "She seems," he paused for a moment, searching for a particular word. Finally, he sighed and coolly said, "Pleasant."

Warily, Damon lowered his fork to the plate and leaned back in his chair as well. "Just get it out, dad. Whatever it is you're thinking, just say it."

"What I'm thinking?" he questioned dubiously. "What are you thinking?"

"You're going to need to be a little more specific. I'm thinking a lot of things right now."

"She's a bartender, Damon," he said with palpable distaste. "You might as well have brought home a waitress. What were you thinking?"

Damon bitterly laughed at how utterly insulted his father sounded at the thought of Elena's profession. "She has a degree from Columbia. She's not exactly what I'd call pathetic."

"Well obviously that degree is being put to fabulous use as she ropes in rich men. How can you even be certain that it's your child?"

Damon leaned forward in his seat now, a determined look on his face. "You really want to know how I know it's my child?" When his father nodded, he shrugged and said, "Because I've spent practically every night with her since I started sleeping with her in December. And the nights she isn't with me, she's with Caroline, your daughter-in-law, and there's no way she'd be able to get away with lying about that without Stefan finding out. So, yes, I'm pretty damn sure it's my child."

"She is a bartender," his father repeated his earlier statement, with even more disgust laced in his voice than before.

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you about Elena being pregnant," Damon snapped at his father. "You don't even know her and you're already passing judgment on her. She is a good girl who plans to go back to graduate school soon. She only took time off to save up more money and figure things out."

Damon's words didn't sway his father's opinion in her favor. "Well now that she's pregnant with your child she won't have to."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. She's not after my money, dad. She's not Katherine. She's just a nice girl that has wound up in a situation she didn't plan for."

"Buy her off," his father cut in. "She's 22 and a bartender from Virginia. Call your lawyer, draw up a contract, and buy her off. Her asking price can't be any higher than Katherine's was. Surely she can't be interested in raising a kid."

A gasp sounded from the hallway and Damon's head shot up. Elena was standing at the end of the hallway, a stricken look on her face. His stomach dropped as she stared at them and he knew she'd heard every word. "Elena," he rushed over to her, his eyes wide and pleading. "You shouldn't have heard that."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Elena." Giuseppe stood from his chair at the head of the table and walks over toward her and Damon. "Surely you can understand my reservations about this situation, though."

"I'm not trying to trap, Damon," she choked out, obviously upset by his insinuations.

"And you sound sincere, you really do, but Damon has a reputation that is already struggling after his divorce. We simply cannot afford for it to be damaged any further. I think that we can all come to an acceptable compromise."

"She's a person, dad!" Damon exploded, turning angry eyes on his father. "She is going to be the mother of my child, your grandchild! I'm not going to buy my child from her or pay her to disappear with it. Elena and I are in this together. End of story."

"Your reputation is hanging on by a thread because of your divorce that got dragged through the media. You have barely divorced Katherine and you already have another woman pregnant. It might not matter to you, but you work for my company. You will take over for me when I decide to step down. You have to have a better reputation than this."

"This is New York City, dad. We're not stuck in some hick town in the South from the 1950s. The country club has been rocked with far bigger scandals than me getting someone pregnant not long after my divorce. She's not a prostitute or a stripper; she has a respectable job that makes her decent money. There's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with her. And yeah, of course people are going to talk, but they will inevitably move onto something else to gossip about in a few weeks."

"You are my son, and the money that you are using to bankroll Elena and this child, is coming from me. That means I get a say in this. If you are serious about being parents together, then do the right thing. Move her in and get married. And do it quickly."

"We're leaving." He could practically see Elena's head spinning from everything happening right now. She looked like she'd entered the Twilight Zone and had no idea on how to get out. He pulled her toward the elevator, ignoring his father's shouts from behind him. He felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin as they waited for the doors to open and facilitate their escape. "I should have never brought you here." When the doors finally opened, he rushed in, tugging her behind him. "Of course he can't just be happy that I'm going to have a child. He has to insult everything about you, and then try and get me to make you disappear."

"Damon," she said his name softly, trying to get his attention, but he was too wound up. "It's okay."

"No, Elena, it's not." He turned to her, his eyes filling with some sense of desperation. "I don't agree with anything he said. I don't think you're trying to trap me. I don't want you to disappear. What I said last week, I meant it. I meant every word."

"Damon," she said his name more forcefully now, gripping his face in her hands, so he couldn't turn away. "I know." She took a step toward him so their faces were nearly touching. With her heels on she was able to see straight into his eyes. "Thank you for defending me."

He opened his mouth to respond to her, but she cut him off with a kiss. She pressed her mouth to his. It was a soft, gentle kiss, unlike any others that they'd ever shared. It was a kiss filled with a need within her to comfort him, to just be closer to him.

The elevator made a soft dinging noise as it came to a stop on the bottom floor, the doors opening to reveal an elderly couple waiting in the lobby. Embarrassed, Elena stepped back from Damon and tried to shade her blushing face with her hair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Thomas," Damon greeted the smiling couple as Elena looked like she was waiting for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

"Damon," Mr. Thomas smiled warmly. "We haven't seen you around very much lately."

"I've been busy," Damon offered politely. "You know how the corporate world is. No time for much of anything."

"It seems you've found time for this beautiful young lady," Mrs. Thomas spoke up, smiling happily at Elena.

"Yes," Damon smiled, grabbing her hand in his, something that seemed to be becoming a habit. "This is Elena, my girlfriend."

Mrs. Thomas seemed to beam at the title that Damon used on Elena, while Elena's hand tensed in his.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, dear," Mrs. Thomas held out her hand, which Elena shook politely. "It's nice to see Damon moving on." Now it was Damon's turn to stiffen.

"Sheila," Mr. Thomas scolded her.

"Yes, well thankfully, that's over now," Damon told Mrs. Thomas, his smile now more forced. "It's been nice running into you. Hopefully, I'll see you both at the charity dinner for the children's hospital next month."

Brief goodbyes were offered, and soon Damon was leading her out of his father's building, out onto the cold streets of New York City. Damon decided he would take her back to his place for the night, figuring he owed her some sort of explanation about his father, and the chance to try and make things better.

"Why did you call me your girlfriend?" She asked him when they were only a couple of blocks away from his building.

"I was kissing you in the elevator, and everyone is about to find out you're pregnant. I figure it's probably best to call you my girlfriend."

She stopped in her tracks, tugging on Damon's hand when he kept walking forward. He stopped when he realized she wasn't walking anymore and turned to look at her. "But does that mean I'm your girlfriend?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Do you want it to mean that?"

"Do you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well this conversation is getting us far." He sighed and stepped closer to her. "I'm kind of lost here, too. We've been sleeping together for months, and now we're going to have a baby. I don't know what to call us."

"I don't want you to call me your girlfriend just because I'm pregnant." She told him, her voice serious. "I only want you to call me your girlfriend if you want me to be your girlfriend."

People moved around them as they stood, silent in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at each other. Damon had more than made peace with the fact that he cared about Elena, but he hadn't allowed his thoughts to venture far beyond that. There was still so much baggage from his marriage and he was still wary of any serious relationship. Yet, she was pregnant and that meant everything.

"What if I tell you I want you to be my girlfriend?" he questioned.

"Will it be because I'm pregnant?"

"Partly, yes," he admitted honestly, not wanting to lie to her. "You getting pregnant is obviously going to make me want to make decisions that I might not have made otherwise. Either not right now or ones that I wouldn't have let myself make before. You are pregnant, though, and I owe it to you to see this through. I owe it to both of us."

"What does that mean?" she asked nervously, a small spark of hope in her eyes.

"It means that even before you got pregnant, I liked you. I like spending time with you, and just being around you, but if you weren't pregnant, I probably wouldn't have ever tried to take us anywhere else because I'd closed myself off to the idea of it. I don't think it would be fair for me to do that anymore." He lifted her other hand in his free one, holding his eyes steady with hers. "So, yes, I want you to be my girlfriend, with dates that go beyond our beds. I'd like to see where this goes."

"You really mean that?"

He smirked at her nervous voice. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't. That's one thing I can promise you, Elena. I'm not going to do or say something because it's what's right. I'm going to do what I want to do."

"Okay," she sighed, a soft smile lighting her face.

"Okay, so you'll be my girlfriend?" He cringed the moment the words were out of his mouth. "God, I sound 14."

"A swoon worthy 14-year-old," she pointed out, her smile widening.

"Good to know." He closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers, bringing his arms to wrap around her waist, pulling her against him.

He didn't care that they were standing on a crowded sidewalk in the cold winter of New York City. All he cared about was her body against his and the way they fit together in this moment. She might not know it, but she was changing him.