A/N: Although this is the end of the story arc, and the status says complete, I will be taking "requests", such as how Amor and Arthur met, when Cobb brought Amor into the team, etc. that I will answer in story format. If you wish to have one of these requests fulfilled, please either review with your request or PM me. ^_^ Thanks for reading!
EPILOGUE-
The blond girl runs down the hallway with the paper in her hand. She turns around, briefly, and that backwards glance is enough to keep her running as fast as she can. After almost tripping on a bump in the hotel carpet, she quickly kicks off her black pumps and runs faster, barefoot, towards the elevator that means her salvation. But she's going to have to be fast. The feet behind her are getting closer.
She is almost there. But she isn't close enough. A hand grabs the back of her shirt. She whirls around, bottomless blue eyes furious, and pushes a hand against the man's chest. Instantly he freezes, along with the two that follow him.
Stacy Woodward slowly pries his fingers off of her shirt, and calmly pushes open the elevator doors. She looks down at the drop that awaits her. She opens the paper, reads it over and over again, whispering its contents, trying to memorize it. She looks down the elevator shaft again. There are three bodies on its surface. One is tall and lean, with black, slicked-back hair and a long face, and he is wearing an immaculate suit. One is brown-haired, with thick lips and stubble on his face. He is slightly heavier-built than the first one, and he is definitely not as clean-cut. The last is a woman, with porcelain skin, a slim figure, and delicate features. But her hair- her hair is flaming red, rich with copper undertones, wavy and long and partially covering her face.
Stacy takes one last look behind her- and jumps.
-x-
When Stacy wakes up, the first thing she does is reach for the pen and paper that is left right next to her. Hurriedly, she scrawls down what she had seen on the paper. Then she thinks to look around her.
Amor, noticing that Stacy had woken, walks over to where she is seated. Eames and Arthur are sitting at the conference table, arguing like they usually do. Dennis is sleeping in a chair next to Stacy. She smiles, watching him.
Amor pulls a chair over and sits down. "He fell asleep waiting for you to wake up. He really likes you, you know. I bet he's dreaming of you right now. Of course, considering the fact that he's the only one of us that has dreams anymore- real dreams."
Stacy smiles at the thought. She hands Amor the paper. "This is what the paper said."
Amor takes it, reads it, folds it, and slips it into her jean pocket. "Thank you."
Stacy looks over at Dennis. "Should I wake him?"
Amor shrugs. Stacy reaches over to shake his shoulder.
-x-
The small flap in the door opens, and a tray of food is shoved in roughly. The prisoner reaches for it. He sits back in the corner.
If only that idiotic Brit hadn't conned me. If only that redhead hadn't acted so stupid. If only... Tony thinks darkly as he sits in his prison cell.
Tony will, every once in a while, plot his revenge. But it won't happen. He has four life sentences in prison, due to his involvement in other cold cases for murder and other dark topics. Luckily, this recent Extraction case has uncovered some of the dirt on his seemingly spotless record. He won't be getting out for a while.
-x-
The redhead and the slim man are sitting together at the Aloha Grill. The candles flicker as a sea breeze rushes through the patio. The waves lap at the shore, making white foam as they kiss the land. The stars are brighter than what anyone could have seen from the city. Yes, this was the magic of California.
The redhead chuckles at something that the slim man says. The candlelight casts a soft glow on her face, and the moon makes her hair shimmer. The slim man can't remember anything more beautiful. Suddenly, he decides that this is the time. He must do it now, before the night carries his chance away.
He pulls away from the table, and stands up out of his woven chair. He takes the delicately folded napkin out of his lap. He clears his throat.
"Isabelle Samantha Anderson," he begins, reaching into his pocket. Couples behind him start to whisper and point. He gets down on one knee, and the whispering gets louder. The redhead's eyes widen and a hand jumps up to her mouth. Someone in the crowd shushes the whisperers.
"Will you marry me?" he asks, holding out the open box. The redhead is crying and the people in the crowd hold their breaths. She walks forward to hug him.
"Yes." A cacophony of sound erupts from the crowd; some are clapping, some are whooping, some are "awww"ing, some are just sighing.
It was a traditional proposal, nothing flashy, nothing over-the-top, but it was just what they both wanted.
-x-
Apollo stands in the doorway of the suburban home, watching the two children play in the fading light. He smiles, unable to tear his eyes away. He was supposed to call them in. But instead he just watches them, mesmerized by the sight of his two children.
Their names were Belle and Sam.
Obsessive?
Probably.
But were they beautiful names?
Of course.
They were her names.