A/N: Finally, we've reached the last chapter of this saga. Thanks to all readers and reviewers, especially angel2u, for sticking with me this far.

Epilogue (Vanessa): Poets To Come

September 30, 1960

Oh Captain, my Captain,

I hope that this letter gets to you soon, before the boys pre-empt me with their own missives. I'm not sure how quick the post is, but surely it shouldn't have a hard time locating you in the town of Oxford. I really hope you're doing fine.

I'm sorry that my past letters have been middling; aside from work at the diner and my deadlines for articles, I've had to help Neil, Todd, and Charlie settle in New York. Yes, you read that right, the four of us are in New York!

You probably might have heard right now where the rest of us are. Meeks is taking up mechanical engineering at Harvard. I guess he's never been happier. Pitts is in Yale now, taking up a pre-law course of some sort but he thinks he's switching his major one of these days. Knox and Chris are up in Boston, taking pre-law classes also. Knox isn't sure what he wants to do, but Chris is intent on sticking to law. Let's see how that goes. Cameron is taking up finance at Princeton. He sent a short note from there, but not much else.

As for those of us in New York, well you do know what Todd did: after everything he decided he wanted to pursue a degree in English. So far he's doing great, and he's mentioned that he's up to writing some book. I don't know about what yet, but I'm willing to bet it's poetry. Charlie is taking up philosophy, which is pretty funny since last night he burst into the apartment and declared himself a nihilist. Neil, Todd, and I think he will change his tune in a week or so; it's not like Charlie to believe in nothing. As for Neil, he's enjoying his History classes and he's waiting for the final decision from the university drama guild as to whether he can join them this year. I have no doubt though as to what this decision will be.

I have gotten together my requirements for my GED, and I'm hoping to take it in time for me to enroll in community college by winter next year at the earliest. So I'm going to be a graduate someday even if it will take me long to get there. I'm thinking of applying for Journalism. What do you think?

We all hope to hear from you soon, Captain! Till your next letter!

Your former student

Vanessa O'Donnell

The young woman carefully set the letter down at one side of her tiny and cluttered desk, taking care not to smudge the still wet ink. "Now to get to some other work," she thought as she searched her drawers for some fresh paper. She smiled on opening one drawer, which was piled high with various opened letters. It had taken some time till she and her friends were able to establish a regular letter exchange. At first, contact was sporadic, limited to hurried notes filled with cryptic references to future plans, or furtive phone calls from phone booths. But as winter passed and spring took hold of the world, the letters got longer and came more frequently. "And finally I could stop moping about my loneliness," Vanessa reminisced.

She bit her lip as she caught sight of a picture of her family. It had taken some weeks till her parents had finally tracked her down in New York, a rather frightening development that had led to a swift change of address, a shouting match, and her eventually getting disowned by her stepfather. "But someday they will see more than just my name in the byline," she thought, looking at the faces of her mother and her brother.

After finding a few blank sheets in another drawer, she crossed the room to where another desk stood, this one piled high with play scripts that nearly buried a rather old typewriter. Before she could put the paper in the machine, she heard some laughter followed by a loud blast on the saxophone. "Nuwanda, cut it out, I'm trying to study!" Todd protested from outside.

"Go study elsewhere," Charlie said before blowing another note on the saxophone.

Vanessa moved her chair away from the door in time to let Todd into the room. "Next week let's get you some earmuffs or something," she said to him sympathetically.

Todd nodded as he kept his grip on his textbook. "How do you and Neil manage to sleep in here?" he asked, looking around the piles of clothes and books that littered the tiny room.

"I'm not sure really," Vanessa deadpanned over the continued attempts at music that Charlie was making outside. She winced at one particularly screeching passage. "If it's any consolation, he'll stop once he remembers that it's his turn to make dinner."

"Will you be eating here?" Todd asked.

"Yes. I have the night off," Vanessa replied. She looked at her hands, which had grown callused and a little dry from months of washing dishes and cooking meals at a diner. "The price you pay for these things, remember?" she thought as she leaned back in her seat.

Todd suddenly looked up from what he was reading. "Hi Neil. I just had to get away from Charlie's sax practice."

"Don't worry, I've already told him to practice on the roof," Neil said candidly as he entered the room. He had with him a rather large box. "Sorry I'm late. Some protest down at the corner."

"What, another sit-in?" Charlie asked from the doorway.

"A protest actually. It's happening more and more often," Neil said.

Vanessa smiled at this situation. "It was only a matter of time," she thought. Lately the news had been featuring protest after protest: sit-ins in the southern states, protests for equal employments for blacks, and daring writings about justice and rights being passed on and whispered about from corner to corner. "If Whitman were alive today, what would he write?" she wondered. Yet perhaps, she thought as she looked at Todd and his inkstained hands, this was a verse for someone else to write.

Neil adjusted his hold on the box.. "Van, would you happen to have any space left on your desk?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?" she said, getting to her feet.

"I need someplace to set this down," Neil replied in a matter-of-fact-tone.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow as she cleared some papers and books off one side of her desk, taking care not to crush the letter she'd just finished writing. When she turned around, she saw that Neil had opened the box and was holding a bright, shiny typewriter.

"Happy birthday Van!" Todd yelled as Charlie blew another blast on his saxophone.

"Neil, you can't be serious-" Vanessa trailed off, blinking with disbelief.

"Yep, it's yours. It was long in coming," Neil said, grinning widely as he set down the typewriter on the newly cleared space on Vanessa's desk. "What do you think?"

"It's lovely. How did you manage..." she whispered, knowing what a precious gift this was.

"We all pooled for it," Todd explained. "I mean, you're starting to become a big shot author."

"I've only had a few articles published," Vanessa said, reddening slightly.

"That's further than any of us have gone," Neil whispered in her ear.

Charlie coughed and gestured to Todd. "Come on, let's leave Romeo and Juliet alone for a bit," he said, motioning for his friend to leave the room.

"It's a bit of a misnomer don't you think?" Todd asked.

"Why what would you pick?"

"Let me think of a happy couple from Shakespeare first-"

Neil burst out laughing as Todd and Charlie quit the room, still arguing. "Todd can go on all night about it," he said knowingly. "He's just going to get better at it the more he gets into English."

"Let him," Vanessa giggled, resting her cheek against Neil's chest. She sighed on feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. "I can't believe we very nearly missed out on all of this," she thought as she wrapped her arms around him.

Neil kissed her forehead. "It's going to be a good year, Van."

"I have no doubt of it," she said, smiling up at him before pulling him down for a kiss. Some joys, she decided, were best not put in words.