Despite waking up late and being bombarded with an inconvenient set of memories, Damon arrives just in time to give his lecture. Judging by the vigorous round of applause he receives at the end, his talk is a resounding success. He takes the time to answer several questions about his new book and guessing by the robust reception, he believes it'll be another best seller.

By the time he exits the auditorium, he feels ready for whatever comes his way which means he should be ready to face her. But the maelstrom that's brewing in both his stomach and his head is evidence enough to the contrary. He hops in a cab and after telling the driver his destination, he opens his briefcase and switches his red tie for a black one. He needs to put a wall between them and somehow he thinks the tie may be his only weapon.

Once he arrives, he pays the man and then steps out, finding himself unable to move for several moments. He moves forward till he's standing in the front of the building, debating with himself whether or not he should walk through the double doors. Pausing, he pulls his phone out of his suit pocket and calls Enzo. His frustration reaches an even more feverish pitch when the bastard doesn't answer his phone.

I'm one of the world's foremost experts in matters in history and art. I'll be dammed if I will turn tail and run away from... actors.

The word sticks in his throat, the thought of them leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. On top of that, he's told to wait in the reception area until they find the elusive Mr. St. John. The very thought that he's wasting his precious time waiting on Enzo is maddening to say the very least. Still, he's a man on a mission and no matter what inconveniences he has to tolerate, he's going to get this taken care of once and for all.

Damon is nearly climbing the walls by the time Enzo finally breezes into the waiting area as if he didn't have a care in the world. His nonchalance is enviable if Damon didn't know that he did it on purpose. Offering his hand, he gives Damon a shiny smile.

"Damon, glad you could make it."

Glad you could make it? This guy is really asking for trouble. Damon is fuming inside but he needs to maintain his composure. "Enzo," Damon adds shortly.

Enzo exchanges a few words with the receptionist. Damon wonders for a thousandth time what the hell Elena sees in him. The bane of his existence leads him to the elevator, pushes the button and focuses his attention on him.

"How was you flight? And, of course, today's oration? I hope you didn't have too much trouble with the traffic."

"Cut the crap, Enzo, we're not doing the small talk thing."

"As you wish, mate," Enzo shrugs. "Thought we could kill some time while we're waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Damon groans. "She's not available again!?"

"She is... but she's been delayed. She's had to do interviews all day long. It really shouldn't be too much longer."

"Wonderful," Damon fights the urge to gnash his teeth.

The elevator stops and he follows Enzo down the hall and into an office. It looks more like an apartment, there's a coffee table, leather lounge suite and a few armchairs, heavy carpet, a large monitor TV on the wall and he can also see another room through the open door, probably a dressing room with a sofa and a large mirror.

"Coffee? Something stronger?" Enzo asks and gestures for him to sit.

"No, thank you. I don't want either, I just want this overwith."

"Okay then. If you don't want to talk or have anything to drink, I'm going to take my leave. She should be here soon."

Before Damon manages to form a biting response, Enzo is nowhere to be seen.

Elena twists the lid off of her water bottle and takes a deep pull. It's been a long day and in addition to that she still has Damon to deal with. She's anxious but ever the professional, she's able to hide it from inquiring minds. Between speaking with various members of the press in person, she also has been receiving phone message after message, trying to coax something juicy about her private life. By now she knows all of their tricks and is easily able to get through it without a slip up.

It's rather miraculous that they've never found out the gritty details of her marriage, hell they've never even reported that she was ever married in the first place. The way they dig like rabid dogs, it really is quite remarkable that not one of them has ever gone on the air with breaking news that she's married and to a scholar no less.

Now she finds herself face to face with this creepy guy, Atticus something. He's prying, digging for something and she wonders what he would do if she told him - "How would you like to get the scoop about my marriage to Professor Damon Salvatore, the famous art history expert?" She almost chuckles. Almost.

When she sees the funny look on the guy's face, she knows that she probably didn't cover herself as good as she normally does. She just needs this stupid interview to be over so she can go to see Damon. She mentally snorts, like that's going to be so easy.

"Do you have any more questions?" Elena meaningfully looks at her watch, but the journalist is nothing if not persistent.

"What is the status of your relationship with Mr. St. John?"

Elena mentally rolls her eyes in annoyance. "My private life is my business, you know that, Atticus."

"Well," he doesn't give up, "you live together, you're always arm in arm with him at every event both formal and informal, you're practically inseparable. That implies..?"

"What's your question, then?"

"I mean, have you considered making it official...?"

"You'll be the first one to know," Elena says sweetly and stands up to indicate that the interview's over.

"Thank you for your time, Elena." After staring at her for several moments, Atticus Shane, representative of 'Celebrity Magazine' has no other option than to be on his way.

Elena still manages to leave the room before him. Where the hell is Enzo? She knows he's not that cool with Damon being here and that he's worried about her. But now when she could really use his support, he just disappears? Feeling more than a little disgruntled, she huffs dramatically.

The thought that he'd keep Damon company is ridiculous. She turns the corner and slips into the dressing room she has at her disposal. She needs to get out of this uncomfortable dress. She's not going to talk to Damon feeling like a sardine, the damn thing is so tight that she can barely take a breath. The door's ajar but she manages to change into a pair of Levi's and a white tee shirt without catching his attention.

Here we go. She takes a deep breath and enters the room to face her past.

Damon gets up for the umpteenth time to look out of the window. He peers down the sidewalk hoping to find her among the throngs of people walking past but no such luck. He steps into the bathroom and when he's done, he starts to pace the room, stopping suddenly when he hears the tale tell sign of a door creaking. Swallowing thickly, he slowly turns around and there she is...

"Damon...," she just breathes his name out, no smile or any emotion on her face. She's even more stunning than he remembers, maybe it's Enzo who's making her happy? Or perhaps he'd forgotten the sheer magnitude of her presence...

"Elena."

His greeting could not have been more chilly, but it's hardly a surprise. She's wearing jeans and a simple tee shirt, she looks down to earth and yet somehow it reflects her natural beauty even more. Whether she's wearing the most expensive designer gown or a simple pair of Levis, she's stunning, breathtaking really.

Enzo told him that she's been doing interviews so he surmises that she must have changed her attire before she joined him. She looks older, wiser, Damon decides and tired too, probably from hours of speaking to the press.

What the hell is he doing? She's not his to worry about, not anymore. He clears his throat and wants to say something but suddenly he doesn't know where to start.

Elena pours herself a drink and takes a look at the empty table. "You haven't gotten yourself one?" Without waiting for his reply, she adds, "I'll have one if you don't mind."

Damon fights the urge to snort. As if she cares, she'd have it no matter what.

She disappears for a moment, returning with a bottle and an extra glass. Eyeing him, she sets them down on the end table, gesturing for him to help himself before plopping down on the opposite end of the couch. Any other time he'd wave it off but he's pretty sure he'll need one for this conversation. He picks up the bottle of bourbon and fills a glass. He settles back against the couch and takes a long draw from it. Several tense minutes pass and when they're both comfortable on the couch, Elena shifts and focuses her attention on him.

"Well, Damon?"

"Damon what?" he snaps. "Why didn't you just sign the damn papers? Christ, Elena, you could have saved us both from having to suffer through this incredibly awkward conversation? Is there a reason for it or are you just doing it to be difficult?"

"I resent that, Damon, and no I'm not being difficult. But I might remind you that you weren't exactly breaking any land-speed records when I wanted to solve this dilemma years ago myself."

"It's so typical of you. I was right wasn't I? This is about revenge. I didn't sign yours so you won't sign mine. Very mature, Elena..."

"Don't be ridiculous, if I really wanted revenge, there would be so many easier ways to exact it. There's so much unsettled, I just thought we should... you know, talk? That way there will be no illusions or misunderstandings left between us and since I'm finishing an important movie..."

"You're always finishing an important movie," Damon blurts out and Elena is momentarily taken aback, this particular comment hurts.

"And what should we talk about? That conversation has been postponed for three years now, Elena. I just want to get the papers signed and then we can go back to ignoring each other now and for the rest of our lives."

Elena's tone gets noticeably colder. "Oh you'd like that wouldn't you? But if you want me to sign those papers, this is my price, one you're going to have to pay. It's for your own good as well as mine. Maybe next time... with her.. you can avoid the mistakes of the past..."

"Mistakes? Really Elena? You. Left. Me. You ran off to LA with Enzo without so much as a backwards glance. Then you sent me the divorce papers which I didn't sign, partly because I thought we should talk about it. But you couldn't be bothered," he adds bitterly.

Elena nods, "Of course, you'd see it that way... And that's precisely why you and I need to talk."

"I don't want to talk," he barks stubbornly. "Can you just... Please.. for once in your life do the right thing? You made the choice to end our marriage three years ago, can't we just stick with that decision?"

Elena gives him a long hard look. "I can't and I won't do that, Damon. Call me tomorrow?" She throws back what's left in her tumbler then walks out of the room without looking back.

After paying the taxi driver, Damon stalks to his room, slams the door shut and goes straight for the bottle of bourbon. He's not sure if the past two hours were real or not. As usual whenever she comes into his life, he's turned inside out, upside down and round and round. She shouldn't still be able to have such a profound effect on him, not anymore and yet... He's over her and fully committed to another relationship, one he always imagined for himself and his academic work.

Does he even listen to himself? He's building life around his academic career. Elena would snort at the thought of it. She'd blithely tell him that he's turned into an old and stodgy curmudgeon... What the fuck does she know about life, family or responsibilities anyway? Why is he even giving two cents about what she would say? Clearly she has lost it, that much was obvious from their attempt at conversation, he fumes and takes a long pull from the bottle.

He has no idea what they have left to talk about. Whatever conversation she's demanding, one that probably should've been done three years ago, not now, is weighing heavily on his mind.

He takes another swallow and then grabs a glass, quickly pouring another. Clutching the glass between his palms in frustration, he chastises himself. Instead of letting her get to him, he should be focusing his time and energy on how to get the papers signed. After all, he's doing this for Vanessa. And for himself. He'll be damned if he's going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him give up. Perhaps that's what she's waiting for, maybe even counting on?

He throws himself on the bed without bothering to change or even shower and after a few more drinks he falls asleep, completely forgetting to call Vanessa as he promised.

"What are you doing, Elena? Do you even know?"

Elena doesn't like the way Enzo's looking at her. Also his tone indicates she's not going to get a pass, not this time. She turns to him, her eyes pleading. "Can you just... let me do this? I know how it must look to you..."

"No. You. Don't. Do you have even the faintest idea? And Christ, Elena, is it really worth it after all this time has passed?" he watches her with desperation, not knowing how to change her mind.

"Something I should have done years ago. It needs to end the right way, the proper way. It's what I need, you know that. I'm under no illusions, not anymore and yes, I really do know what I'm doing so please, Enzo, just trust me with this?"

He's looking into her eyes and finally nods. "Do what you need to do." And he will be there to pick up the pieces, as he's always been.

Eva and I want to thank you all so very much. You're an amazing group of people, we're in awe every day the support you give us. We don't even begin to know how to thank you enough. Your encouragement inspires us to keep writing stories.

Thank you Eva. You're awesome and brilliant and I'm so lucky to have you as my sister/partner.

Chapter title: 'Angry Words' by Willy Porter.

I did update 'Eyes Without a Face' yesterday.

Be safe and have a fantastic day. We'll see you next time.