Two years later...

The music runs through me, lighting my blood on fire and getting me high. This is my release; this is why I have chosen to stay in this industry. Not only do I get to do what I love, I get to do it with my brothers, both in blood and in heart.

The crowd goes wild for Jeremy's voice, which is smooth as butter tonight; he's totally on fire. I sing my back-up vocals perfectly and nail all of my solos. The audience is just eating this up, love radiating from our fans.

The music is intoxicating and my fingers fly across the fret board of their own free will, barely any thought required. My body knows this, was built for this. For making music. And for loving my woman.

The show ends and after playing an extended encore for this incredible crowd, we take our final bow. It's always at this point in the night that I start getting anxious to see Elena, to hold her and kiss her and hear how proud she is of me.

The curtains finally close, blocking out the blinding lights. I turn automatically, my eyes seeking the woman who owns my heart, but all I see are groupies desperately clawing at each other to be one of our first picks. My anxiety kicks up a notch when I don't see her brunette hair among the dozens of bleached blondes. Trying to keep my cool, I push past the hordes of women vying for our attention, but Elena is nowhere to be seen.

My heart rate kicks up as I call her name and get no reply. It's busy backstage, but she's always nearby. Always. My mind goes right back to that fateful night when Elena went missing, only this time she carries something even more precious with her, more than just my last name.

I call out her name over and over again, asking any and everyone if they've seen her. They all shake their heads, saying they assumed she was on stage left where she always is. My hands start shaking and my mind is running wild with horrific possibilities of where she might be. I search behind every door and every crate, but she's nowhere to be found.

No! No, no, no. I will not lose her again. She has to be here. She has to be safe. It's not just her anymore. I'm in a panicked frenzy when I throw open my dressing room door and find her staring up at me with those big brown eyes, full of shock and a bit of terror.

Relief washes over me, strong and glorious. She's here, she's safe. But then that look in her eyes registers, and I follow the direction of her gaze to the puddle of water between her feet. Oh my God.

"Elena?" I ask carefully, not wanting to spook her.

Her panicked eyes snap back up to mine as she whispers, "I think my water just broke."

Oh holy shit.

I can't help the wide grin that spreads across my face.

"Damon!" she shrieks. "This isn't a time to be smiling, you asshole! Call the doctor!"

As she yells that last part, all three of the guys come bursting into the dressing room, no doubt in a worried frenzy after hearing that I couldn't find Elena.

"Holy shit!" Matt exclaims, eyeing the water on the floor and obviously knowing what it means. I mean, we all knew this day was coming.

I fish out my cell phone, dialing the number of our amazing obstetrician. She made it clear to us that no matter where we were in the world when this day came, she'd be only a phone call away and would make sure we got the best medical care available.

As I'm explaining what's happened, Elena cries out in pain, a sound that slices me to my core. I rush to her side, along with Jeremy, Stefan and Matt, and we all help lower her onto the couch. She's panting and clutching her huge belly, which I can feel tense up beneath her shirt. I recognize what a contraction looks like from the numerous baby books I've read over the past nine months. I wanted to be as prepared as possible and now, I'm grateful for it; no matter how much shit I took for it from the guys.

The doctor tells me to time her contractions while she waits on the phone. I bark at the guys to get their phones out and start timing.

"Elena, how long have you been having contractions?" I ask, repeating the question the doctor had me ask her.

She seems to relax a bit, her eyes flicking to mine. "Since this morning. They haven't been so bad today, but they've been getting worse and more frequent over the past couple of hours."

I relay this information to the doctor who then instructs us to get Elena to the hospital, assuring us that she'll have a doctor waiting for us when we arrive. I thank her and hang up.

Holy shit. We're having a baby.

Turning to the guys, who are all in various stages of shock and wonder, I snap at them to get their asses in gear.

We all jolt into action. Matt calls our driver, ordering him to "get the fuck over here," and Jeremy grabs the bag we already packed for D-day. I scoop Elena into my arms as Matt and Stefan go outside to flag down our driver.

Jeremy rushes in front of us, clearing a path through the hordes of people gathered backstage by announcing that a lady with a baby is coming through. He's yelling excitedly about becoming an uncle to every member of our road crew that we pass. Outside, the dark SUV is waiting for us, with Matt and Stefan bouncing excitedly in the backseat. I set Elena in carefully, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before jogging around to the other side, while Jeremy climbs into the passenger seat.

"You doing okay?" I ask, scooting across the seats so I can hold Elena in my arms and her hand in my lap. Just pull her to me, she goes tense with a little gasp as if the pain has taken her breath away. I hold her through the contraction while she breathes the way she learned in our birthing classes. Jeremy snaps at our driver to get us to the hospital - fast.

When the pain seems to recede, Elena goes limp in my arms. I kiss her hair and smooth it away from her face, wondering how the next few hours are going to play out.

We arrive at the hospital in about fifteen minutes, and we are all on the move again. I take care not to jostle Elena too much, looking around for a wheelchair as soon as we enter, as I'm sure being cradled in my arms with her tense belly is not comfortable. As promised, or doctor came through for us. We are immediately escorted to a private suite and greeted by a few of the nurses on duty in the OB ward tonight. I notice a few of them check us out, recognition blooming in their eyes, but they don't say anything otherwise, and for that, I'm grateful.

The guys help arrange Elena's things before shuffling out of the suite so that Elena can change. They each give her a hug and tell her that they'll be in the waiting room for as long as it takes. When we are alone, she smiles up at me, as I help her into her hospital gown.

"How are you feeling, baby?" I ask.

"Nervous," she answers softly. "I know it's only going to get harder from here on out."

I look her right in the eyes, cupping her face in my hands so she can't look away. "You are the strongest person I know, and I'll be right here with you the entire time, okay?"

Nodding, she smiles her sweet, shy smile. I can't help myself; I lean in and kiss her lightly on the lips, breaking only when another contraction hits. I hold both of her hands through it, letting her squeeze mine as hard as she needs to without so much as a wince.

Just as it fades, two nurses come in and introduce themselves while they hook Elena up to several machines to monitor her heart rate and the baby's. Excitement and nerves pulse through me. This is really happening. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not as anxious about that fact as I was when Elena first told me she was pregnant. She's done an amazing job reassuring me that I will never be like my father, that I don't have it in me to be cruel like him. She's shown me in more ways than one how much faith she has in me and that confidence has meant the world, only further proving that this woman was made to love me and for me to love her in return.

Hours pass as I feed Elena ice chips, give her massages and press a cool cloth to her forehead. I hold her hand through every contraction, marveling at her strength. During the quiet moments in between, I let my mind wander to our life together.

The past two years have been the best of my life. I recall our quiet wedding at Coronado Beach in California – a small group of our closest friends and family, a gorgeous sunset over the ocean and Elena more beautiful than ever in her white dress. I don't think I've heard any more magical words than when she said, "I do."

She never did press charges against the woman who abducted her. We never talked about those hours she spent God knows where, but she asked me to trust her, that she knew what she was doing and I did. Still do.

I remember that morning all those months ago when I woke to the sound of Elena heaving in the bathroom. My mind kicked into overdrive, the still lingering panic that she'd get sick again doubling in that moment. I leapt out of bed and landed by her side in seconds, scooping her hair back from her face and rubbing her back while she dry heaved, her stomach having nothing left to give.

I followed her to the sink where she brushed her teeth, my worry and anxiety at an all time high. She looked pale and like she'd lost weight. I'd been noticing her lack of energy and appetite, but until then, I hadn't thought much of it. I was ready to kick myself for not saying something sooner.

"Elena, how long has this been going on?" I asked carefully, trying to keep myself calm.

She rinsed out her mouth one last time and returned her toothbrush to its rightful place before dragging herself back to our bed and burrowing under the covers.

Following, I perched on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair out of her face. "Baby, talk to me. What's going on?"

"I've been throwing up all week," she said hoarsely, and my stomach dropped. Oh God. She couldn't be sick again. I couldn't go through that again.

"Why didn't you say something?" I said, my strangled voice betraying my calm facade. "We need to get you to a doctor!"

"No, we don't, Damon," she said, laying a hand over mine while she pushed herself up to lean against the pillows.

"Damn it, Elena! Don't pull this stubborn shit with me, not now, okay? I won't lose you again," my voice broke, and Elena pulled me into her arms.

"Damon," she said quietly, her fingers running soothingly through my hair. "I don't need a doctor. I know what's wrong... or I should say what's right."

I heard the smile in her voice, but I couldn't understand. Why would she be happy about something like this? How could her being sick be right in any way?

I pulled away, a spark of anger running through me. "How can you say that?"

She prevented me from going very far, impressively strong even in her weakened state. "Damon," she said with a little giggle. "I'm not sick. I think I'm pregnant."

My world froze.

"Come again?"

"I think I'm pregnant," she repeated, her smile lessening a bit.

I sat totally stunned by her revelation. Never had I imagined that that was what was wrong with her. That she wasn't sick, she was carrying a baby. My baby.

Holy shit.

My heart swelled painfully as I pictured Elena several months pregnant, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that she was mine, just in case the giant ring on her finger didn't say it loudly enough. I even imagined a little dark haired toddler running around the tour bus. I selfishly hoped our kid would look like me. Maybe I could heal all of those years of pain by being the father to my kids that my father never was to me. I would love them, and I would let them pursue whatever dreams they had rather than what I wanted for them.

The longer I sat quiet, the more Elena's smile faded and the excitement in her eyes dimmed.

"I mean, I know we haven't talked about it and it's kind of a surprise," she said, pulling her hands away from me and fiddling with them in her lap. "I thought you might be excited, too."

The hurt in her voice was like a slap in the face, effectively snapping me out of my trance.

"Elena, no," I said quickly, placing one of my hands over both of hers while the other cupped her cheek before moving around to tangle in her hair. "I'm happy, baby. You just caught me off guard. I'm so happy."

"But you're scared, too," she said softly. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Hell yeah, I'm scared. I'm scared shitless," I replied honestly. "I didn't exactly have the best fatherly influence. I don't know the first thing about being a good dad."

Elena's eyes snapped to mine, now with fire in them. "Damon, I don't want any other person to father my children. I know you, I know your heart. I know you will love our baby to the moon and back and when you love someone that much, there is no way you could be a bad dad."

I blinked back the sudden sting in my eyes at her words and the sincerity behind them. She always knew what to say and how to say it. I had no choice but to believe her. She knew me better than anyone, better than myself. If she said I'd be a good dad, I'd have no choice but to be a good dad.

Later that morning, we bought several at-home pregnancy tests that confirmed Elena's self-diagnosis.

At the time, the baby was just an idea, something that wasn't quite real yet, but as Elena gasps and groans and squeezes the life out of my hand, it's becoming more real by the second. Our baby is going to be here soon, and she's going to be beautiful and perfect.

My baby girl.

Elena's body sags in relief. As the contractions get worse, they are taking more and more out of her, but she doesn't complain, doesn't ask to have the pain taken away. Thankfully for me, the nurse comes in and lets us know it's time for Elena to get her epidural. I nearly faint with relief. I hate seeing Elena in so much pain. I want to do whatever I can to take it away.

But to my absolute shock, she denies it. I try to argue, but she tells me that she's afraid it will make her feel like she did when she was stuck in her coma. That effectively shuts me up. I know it's her choice, and I know how much she hated the "blackness", as she calls it. I'm not about to force her to do something that scares her, just because it would make me feel better.

Instead, I stand steadily by her side as the contractions come and go, each one getting harder to watch, but she takes them fearlessly. I back away during a short reprieve to wet the washcloth I'm using to wipe the sweat from her forehead and neck.

When my hands leave her skin, she whimpers and grasps my hand tightly, looking up at me with sheer fear in her eyes. "Don't leave me."

I press my lips to hers lightly. "I'm not going anywhere, just over to the sink to rinse this washcloth. I'll be two seconds, baby."

She nods and reluctantly lets me go, and true to my word, I'm back at her side in a few seconds. I stare at her in wonder. My strong, fearless warrior princess. I've never been so impressed by her. I know that she could handle this on her own, but the fact that she'll readily admit that she needs me, that she wants to do this as a team, humbles me. She lets me hold her, lets me take her weight when she just can't anymore. She lets me be as much a part of this as I can. I'll never be able to thank her enough for it.

"Okay," the doctor says, walking briskly into the room. "I believe we are ready to push, but let me double check."

He does a quick examination and alerts the nurses to prepare for delivery. Oh God, this is it. My baby girl is going to be here very, very soon. Nervous excitement takes over, as I reclaim my position next to Elena, ready to bear any pain she needs to inflict on me.

Watching her bear down while the nurses coach her through it is incredible. I never knew a single human being could be this strong, that she could withstand something so painful - all out of love. I lean in and whisper to her how much I love her and how amazing she is. The sound of my voice seems to pick her up and suddenly she's sitting more upright, a new fire in her eyes. She's ready.

It only takes a few more minutes before I hear it. A loud shrieking cry followed by the doctor announcing happily that it is indeed a girl. Elena and I both melt when the squirming crying bundle is laid on her chest.

Our little girl has a head covered with dark hair. It's my hair, undoubtedly, and it makes my awestruck grin even wider. I settle onto the bed next to Elena, as we both stare at the little girl that we made. She's perfect, and I never knew that I could ever love someone so tiny so quickly. It's as if my heart has grown to accommodate my love for Elena and my love for this sweet little piece of each of us.

"She's so beautiful, Damon," Elena whispers, and I can hear the tears in her voice.

"God, she is. She really is," I reply, my voice deep and gravely, as my own eyes burn with the sting of tears.

The nurse smiles at us apologetically and says that she's just going to clean our little girl up and promises to bring her right back. When she's taken away, I pull Elena into my arms and she comes willingly.

"I love you so much," I say in a quiet but strong voice.

"I love you, too," she replies dreamily.

"You were so brave, Elena," I whisper. "You are the strongest person I know. My warrior princess."

She nuzzles into me further, so sweet and soft at my side. "I couldn't have done it without you. I wouldn't have wanted to do it without you."

Maybe it makes me selfish, but I love that. It lights me up inside, gives me a purpose in life, and confirms that I had a reason to keep on living when all I wanted to do at the age of sixteen was die. All I'd know then was that I was good for nothing, but now, now I'm worth something. I have a purpose. I have a family. They are mine, I am theirs and no one can take them away from me.

We sit and stare at our perfect baby girl, and I get to watch as Elena gets a crash course in breastfeeding. We discuss names because there's no way in hell I'm introducing our baby to the band without one. But her name has to be perfect, like her. We go back and forth for a while before suddenly, Elena's eyes light up and I know she has it. I already know it'll be perfect.

"Aria."

And it is. It's so right that there is no other alternative, we both know. I suggest blessing her with the middle name Miranda in honor of Elena's mother, and I know it's the right thing to do when Elena gives me that sweet smile and her dreamy eyes well up with tears.

I kiss Elena on the top of her head and then lean down to kiss my swaddled baby girl before heading out into the hall in search of my brothers. I find them in the OB waiting room, all of them fast asleep. Of course, it's nearly seven am now. I clear my throat and they all slowly wake, blinking rapidly until they realize who is standing in the doorway and what it means. It takes all of two seconds for them to perk up, before their pushing themselves to their feet and with big smiles, pull me into the manliest group hug in the history of group hugs.

We are all laughing and slapping each other on the backs. They congratulate me, and I can see the excitement in their eyes to meet this little girl. She's going to have us all bending over backwards for her in no time.

"So, do you guys want to meet my daughter?" I ask, inciting another round of excited and playful ribbing about me being a daddy now.

I just smile back, my grin huge and idiotic. They follow me down the hall and our excitement practically bounces off of the walls. None of them can stand still as they wait for me to push the door open. Inside, Elena sits on the bed, staring down at our little girl tucked in her arms with unadulterated love shining from her eyes. She looks up when she hears the door open and smiles at me.

My girls.

Mine.

Walking toward them, I hear the guys file in behind me, peeking over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of our precious baby. I move to stand behind Elena as the guys get hand sanitized and argue over who gets to hold her first. Jeremy wins, of course.

He plops himself into the chair next to the bed, and I take Aria from Elena and give her a sweet kiss on her incredibly soft forehead before settling her into her Uncle's waiting arms. I watch his face as he almost literally melts. His face goes soft and his eyes light up right before filling with tears. His fingers trace her little chubby baby cheeks and smooth down the fine hairs sticking out from under her baby beanie.

"Wow. She's... she's so perfect," Jeremy marvels. My chest puffs up with pride. Damn right she's perfect.

He's quiet a moment and I can tell he's working to get his emotions under control. Finally, he looks up at Elena with a proud smile.

"I'm so proud of you, Elena," he says, his voice breaking a bit. "So proud."

Elena's eyes go misty and she gives Jeremy a watery thank you, a single tear dripping down her cheek, which I wipe away with a kiss.

The guys carefully pass Aria around and their reactions are all exactly like Jeremy's. I can see it happening, each of them being wrapped around her little baby fingers. None of our lives will be the same after meeting this sweet little person.

My heart clenches almost painfully as I realize that my daughter will never go a day in her life without knowing that she is loved.

Two months later...

The bus barrels down the dark quiet highway. We are on our way to Arizona for one of the last few shows on this tour. Shows we had to postpone a bit because a certain raven-haired little angel decided to show up. I walk along the tour bus, picking up toys that have been tossed about.

Damon sure knows how to make a mess. Aria can barely hold her head up on her own, but her father insists on playing with her and her hordes of toys. I'm certain that he gets more entertainment out of them than she does. However, Aria loves her daddy. He can do no wrong and he can get a laugh out of her without fail.

It's hard to believe that Damon ever doubted his ability to be a good father. He is beyond what I could've dreamt of for the father of my children. He's loving and patient and despite our hectic touring schedule, he insists on splitting the load of parenting with me. Even after a late show, he often volunteers to be on late night feeding duty so I can rest. I've never loved anyone more than I love Damon and my baby girl. They are my world.

I tip toe back to the bedroom and open the door quietly to reveal a sight that will never, ever get old for me. Damon is laying on our bed in a pair of pajama pants and nothing else, with our sweet girl - clad only in a diaper - curled up on his chest, her little baby fist pressed against his parted lips. Damon's face is relaxed in sleep, making him look so angelic. I creep closer to the bed, pulling out my phone as I do so and snap a few photos for myself. I love these quiet moments with my little family.

"How have you not filled that phone's memory with all of the photos you've taken?" Damon mumbles, his sleepy eyes opening and those blue irises focusing on me. I smile at him and shrug. He's right though, I've almost filled this thing to capacity.

"I'm not the only one, mister," I tease quietly, before laying my phone on the night table and changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top.

Damon just smiles down at our baby girl, totally shameless. I slip under the covers and snuggle into his side, running my fingers lightly over Aria's silky soft skin, my cheek resting on Damon's warm shoulder, right near his newest tattoo. My eyes trace the intricate tribal-like design that has my name and our precious Aria's name entwined into it. Damon told me when he got it that he and the tattoo artist designed it so more names could be added. I was confused at first, unsure of what he meant, but then he gave me a pointed look and raised one of those dark eyebrows. My heart fluttered when I realized that it meant he wanted more babies with me.

Pulling me out of my walk down memory lane, Damon moves his arm carefully, wrapping it around my body and holding me close. We lie there in silence, both watching our little girl sleep so peacefully, each touching her and touching each other, totally connected.

Love jolts through me so strong and so sharp. I figured I'd be used to it by now, but how could someone get used to feeling this much love? It feels so massive, too big for one heart to hold.

"I'm going to put her down," Damon whispers, and I nod, lying back to watch him rise out of the bed, careful not to jostle her awake. He crosses the small room and carefully lowers her into her bassinet. He stands by her side a moment, content to just watch her sleep before he comes back to bed, pulling me tightly into his arms. I nuzzle into his chest and breathe him in.

"You know what I didn't realize," Damon says softly.

"No, what?" I ask, pulling away just enough for me to look up into his blue eyes, the same eyes I pray our daughter keeps.

"I knew I'd love her, that I'd love her more than my own life," he says quietly, his voice full of reverence and love; it makes my heart squeeze in happiness. "What I didn't know was that it was possible for me to fall even more in love with you."

Could a person die from too much happiness? If so, I would bite the dust right here and now. His words wash over me, every cell in my body reacting to them, but he doesn't stop there.

"Every time I see you look at her or touch her or hold her, I can't believe that I got this lucky. That I got my perfect baby girl and a wife that I love so much; it's almost unfathomable."

Oh. My. God.

"Damon," I whisper shakily, my words coming out strangled around the lump in my throat. "I love you so much. So much it hurts sometimes. It hurts so, so good."

He smiles down at me, a dazzling, triumphant smile, before he pulls me tightly back to him, his lips pressing into my hair. I likewise hold tightly to him, letting his heartbeat lull me to sleep and the blanket of his body and his love keep me warm.

There you have it. It's all over now. This was always planned to be 10 chapters. I know you guys want the story to keep going and I'm so excited that you guys have been rooting for that option, but that's the end of this Damon and Elena story.

Never fear! Stay tuned for a preview of my new fic, Uncovered. Prepare your panties...

Damon Salvatore slumped onto a stool at the bar he'd found on the town square, discouraged after another day of futile job hunting. At least Mystic Falls had more bars than it did jobs. He wasn't really worried about money. With his savings and Stefan's job as a staff writer at the local paper – the reason they'd moved here in the first place – his family was set for a while, but Damon didn't know what to do with himself if he wasn't working.

Mystic Falls was the last place he had ever imagined settling down. Though after caring for his niece for the past two years, Damon didn't know where exactly he saw himself living anymore. He no longer fit into the student lifestyle, having withdrawn from college when Stefan went into rehab, and being the sole provider for a four year old didn't win him many friends or help his love life. Not to mention most women took issue with his - ahem - profession.

Yeah, because being a porn star was a real prestigious career choice.

So here he was, twenty-six years old and his skills included three and a half years of accounting undergrad, two years experience working as a mechanic, the patience to play Pretty Pretty Princess for hours on end and the ability to have sex in front of a whole crew of cameramen. That really looked good on a job application.

"Rough day?"

Looking up, Damon saw a sandy-haired man who was in desperate need of a shave standing behind the bar.

"Something like that," Damon muttered, before eying the selection of whiskeys on the shelves behind the bartender. "Can I get a glass of the Hirsch?"

"Good choice," the other man nodded, moving a step stool, grabbing the squat bottle of bourbon off of the top shelf and then pouring two fingers worth into a glass tumbler.

Damon grabbed it off of the bar and tipped it to the bartender before taking a swig. "Job hunting."

The man cringed, shaking his head. "I do not envy you. I don't think I've ever seen you around. I'm Alaric Saltzman."

Damon took his outstretched hand, grateful to be making a friend, especially one who knew his bourbon. "Damon Salvatore. I just moved into town last weekend with my brother and niece. She just started kindergarten today."

Thinking of dropping Lizzie off at school reminded Damon of her gorgeous teacher. He hadn't known what to expect when he walked into that classroom, maybe a grandmother-type woman who wore large glasses and smelled like milk. But instead, Lizzie's teacher was a brunette siren in a denim skirt and cardigan sweater. God, he could barely form a coherent sentence in her presence.

He had screwed some of the most beautiful women in the world, and Elena put them all to shame. Her conservative clothes had him dying to find out what was underneath, but her expressive brown doe eyes had him equally interested in what was inside her head.

"Kindergarten?" Alaric said. "My wife's niece, Elena, is probably her teacher."

Shit! Damon choked on his drink, reigning in his fantasy about getting his new friend's niece naked. Coughing and clearing his throat, Damon made sure he could speak clearly before responding.

"Miss Gilbert? Yeah, I'm pretty sure Lizzie's already in love with her," Damon replied, pleased at how calm he sounded.

Alaric smiled as he dried a few glasses by hand. "Yeah, that sounds like Elena. I've never met a kindergarten teacher who loves what they do as much as she does."

As if Damon needed another reason to want to know her. But his experience with other women warned him to back off. No woman in her early twenties wanted to be strapped down with the responsibility of a six year old; even one who taught them for a living.

"So, you said you're in the market for a job?" Alaric asked.

Damon nodded as he finished off his drink.

Alaric put down the glass and the towel and set his hands on the bar top. "Got any managing experience?"

"Managed a mechanic garage for the past two years," Damon answered, sitting up a bit straighter and trying to clear the burn of the bourbon from his throat.

Please, God, tell me that was a job offer.

"I never thought I'd do this," Alaric said with a sigh. "But I kind of like you. I'm in need of some help around here - stocking, scheduling, bookkeeping, you know, the basics of running an establishment. My wife is pregnant, and I could sure as hell use the help. Between running this place and making her happy, I'm one exhausted man."

"Are you serious?" Damon tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but failed miserably.

"You seem like a decent person and you sure as hell have good taste in bourbon," Alaric replied. Damon studied him closely, noticing the bags under his eyes and the way he looked like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks. The man had definitely been run thin.

"When can I start?"

Damon... A porn star?! Oh yeah. I'm going there. ;)

Thank you all so, so much for all your support and friendship. It has meant the world to me. I have appreciated every review, alert and favorite I've gotten and not just on this story. On all of them.

A huge thanks goes to Layla Reyne who is an amazing beta and even better friend. And she's never been afraid to tell me when my ideas are less than stellar. PLEASE go read her stories. I wouldn't recommend them if I didn't think they were amazing. THEY ARE.

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I hope you guys will author alert me and stay tuned for Uncovered. I'm so excited about it and I can't wait to share.

Reviews are love ;)