A/N: This is an alternate end to series two because I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

Love, for Kate, was a gallery of twisted portraits in a gloomy room. Some she couldn't see properly; some loomed out of the darkness and taunted her in her dreams. Her father's was the biggest, of course, hiding behind the Bible, and polluting its messages of love with his own warped visions. Even God was in that gallery, much as she hated to admit it. She was learning to separate Him from her father's words but it took time.

Ivan should've made it out of the gallery. He'd be horrified to know that he hadn't but their relationship had been shrouded in so much deceit that she couldn't see him properly. He only really slipped into the light when he learned the truth but by then the love had drained from his eyes so it didn't count.

Her mother, though she was here now helping her through this police ordeal, was still half-hidden in darkness. Oh, she loved her, Kate had always known that, but what sort of love meant a woman condemned her children to the life they'd led? Kate had forgiven her but her mind stored memories like this; it locked away the bad ones and brought them out at the moment she thought she might've forgotten them.

Turning over, Kate accepted she was fully awake. She opened her eyes and gazed at the spot where Betty had been yesterday. So close and so...honest. Smiling, she reached out a hand, pretending Betty was still there to calm the fluttering in her stomach. It had the opposite effect.

Love, for Kate, was the way Betty looked at her. Ivan had abandoned her – Betty had never done that. Sure, she'd distanced herself for a while but that was because of Ivan, because of the thoughtless way Kate had treated her. She hadn't understood the intensity of it, maybe because her experiences of love had been that it was fickle and cruel. Betty would get over it, that's what she thought. It was sinful and it would go away. But it hadn't and last night she'd realised that it wouldn't. The strength of Betty's loyalty shocked her but what shocked her more was the realisation this morning that Betty had never been in the gallery. How could a love that was the complete opposite of all she'd known before be the sinful one? This love hadn't hurt her. It had scared her but it hadn't hurt her. The fear was her own fault and she'd taken refuge in Ivan because it seemed perfect. It was perfect for someone but that someone wasn't her.

She clutched the edge of the blanket and caught her breath. Perhaps, sometimes, the longer you look edat a picture, the less you understood it. Until one moment when it flashes upon you and the mystery disintegrates. It had been like that with Betty. They'd dismantled each other's walls then Betty's slip had changed everything. After that, when Kate tried to understand her, she couldn't. How could Betty be so good and sinful at the same time? Now it came upon her – the flash. She couldn't be. The secret of Betty's portrait was that it had no secret. Kate had known the truth all along and now she was ready to accept it.

She needed to see Betty.

Love, for Betty, was a series of rabbit warrens. She went around in the dark looking for a route that would take her somewhere safe but she ran into walls or found herself chasing her tails. Just when she thought she'd found a safe passage in Kate, the warren threw up a booby-trap. It pierced through her chest, only to be patched over by Teresa a few months later. Patched only. It couldn't be healed. You couldn't substitute the unique flavour of Kate Andrews, however much you tried. It was always there, an unquenched thirst Betty could only ignore. And, God, she tried. With Teresa she tried so hard. But their warren ended with Teresa bolting, choosing her career over Betty. Which was fair enough, she supposed, considering that, given the opportunity, Betty would always choose Kate over Teresa. That didn't alter the fact that she was in a dark warren again, praying for some light.

Out of that prayer came Kate, always Kate. The accident with her father had been both their faults, there was no denying that. Looking at her last night, as they talked more intimately than they had for months on Kate's bed, Betty saw the warrens they were trapped in clear as day. Either they could both struggle, both be trapped underground, or one of them could wriggle free. There was no question about which one. That was the funny thing about love – once it showed you the way out of the warrens, it always offered you a choice. Betty was choosing the right one, she was sure of it.

One last cigarette, that's what she decided. It wouldn't do to barge into the police station unhinged. She wanted to go in there calm, admitting her 'crime' as eloquently as possible so they wouldn't look at Kate anymore. She tried not to think about what would happen afterwards. She tried not to remember that Kate would out here without her; something that would've crippled her had she thought on it too long. Betty wasn't escaping the warren so much as allowing Kate to escape without her.

If she'd slept in a little longer; if Betty hadn't plagued her dreams all night... As she rushed to the police station, Kate focused on the what ifs, not facing the possible reality that Betty had gone inside already. She preferred to think that she'd allowed stopped her and was thinking over the alternatives.

Then that scenario became a reality. A few blocks down from the police station, Betty was stood smoking a cigarette. Kate broke into a run, desperate to get to her before she moved.

She grabbed Betty's arm. 'What the hell are you doing?'

Betty looked like a startled deer. 'What are you doing here?'

'I asked first.'

Shaking her off, she replied, 'This is something I've got to do. Let me do it.' She took a drag on her cigarette. 'Go home, Kate.'

'No chance. Not without you.' There was a pause. Betty couldn't look at her and suddenly she did. Kate saw the gallery, saw Betty exempt from it, doing this for her when nobody else would've, and her heart melted. 'Please,' she pressed. 'We've got to talk about this.'

Finally, Betty nodded. Feeling the momentum shift in her direction, Kate took hold of her arm again and led her back towards the boarding house.

'Give me one good reason, Kate,' Betty said. She was prowling the room, half-furious that she hadn't gone through with her earlier plan but grateful Kate hadn't called in the cavalry of Gladys to stop her handing herself in. This was between them, just as it always should've been.

'Because...' Kate trailed off, wringing her hands from her position by the door. 'You're just being stupid.'

'That's not a reason.' After pacing a little more, she ended up by the door. 'I have to do this.'

'You don't,' Kate insisted.

'Okay, I want to do this,' Betty amended.

'Why?'

'It doesn't –'

'Why?' Kate interrupted. When Betty refused to answer, she pressed, 'Are you trying to prove something?'

'Kate, you don't want to go into this,' Betty replied. 'You don't want to know.'

'I do,' she snapped. 'If you're telling me you're willing to...'

'I am,' said Betty quietly.

'Then...'

'Yes.' Pausing, Betty added, 'I'm sorry. If I could help it, it would've been over months ago. It's one of those things that...'

When she trailed off, Kate concluded, 'Is always there.'

'Exactly. Which is why –'

'You can't,' interrupted Kate. 'You can't leave me here, Betty.'

'But I'm doing this for you.'

'No,' she said firmly, 'you're doing this for you. Because you think it'll be easier if you're away from me. That's what you're doing, isn't it?' She didn't know she thought that until the words spilled from her mouth.

Betty began her pacing again. 'What do you want from me, Kate? I've never known.'

'Me neither,' she answered. Then she looked up. 'Till now.'

The expression was Betty's face was half-petrified, half-hopeful. 'And?'

Kate swallowed. 'What do you see when you look at me, Betty?'

There was a long moment before the blonde replied, 'I see a girl who's been hurt. A lot. But I see that she got past that. I see a wonderful singer who deserves a life away from this city. And she'll get it too.' Pausing, she continued, her voice shaking, 'I see the most beautiful woman, inside and out, I could ever hope to meet. I'm sorry for saying that but... If I do what I was trying to... I'd want you to know.'

Inhaling deeply, Kate shook her head. 'Don't apologise. You know what I see when I look at you, Betts?'

The eyes that lifted to hers were pinpricks of pain, nothing else. 'No. What?'

'Someone who loved me,' she answered. 'And someone I love.'

The words seemed to crush Betty. She slumped down onto the bed and Kate stepped forward, eager to make good on her words. Sitting beside her, she lifted up her chin and gazed into Betty's eyes, those strong eyes that would've lied to a police officer by now if she hadn't got in the way. Then she kissed her. It wasn't like kissing Ivan – it was so much better. It was like travelling to the moon and plummeting back down, uncaring. It was the most wonderful thing she could've imagined – and she'd imagined it in her dreams more than she cared to admit.

Pulling away, she said, 'Promise me you won't hand yourself in.'

Betty looked stunned, as though she'd been clawed by a bear but left with the capability of smiling. 'I promise,' she said.