A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews you sent me, I am so happy to see you have appreciated my story. But now it's time to post the epilogue, and I hope you'll like that too! Please review!! Thanks for sticking with the story!

Epilogue

The elderly woman sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee in silence. She sighed contentedly as the hot liquid warmed her effectively. A strand of graying hair escaped from the loose bun on top of her head and gently caressed her jaw line. She studied her own reflection in the dark rectangle of glass that was her kitchen window, mirroring the dark of night set outside. She often complained about getting old, that she missed the strength of her youth, and her beauty. Her husband dismissed her complaints, always taking her face in his hands, telling her she was as beautiful as she always had been. Though her face was wrinkled and hair gray, her eyes had never faded. Still just as remarkably green, still with the spark of life, she couldn't help but, sometimes, think he was right. And it was all thanks to him her eyes were shining the way they were, because as though romantic passion often fades over the years, they had managed to keep theirs alive, for over twenty years. It was the constant change, the occasional heated arguments and the dare to try new things that kept the flame burning. She shook her head with a small smile, not able to believe she'd been married to Jethro for over twenty-five years. She was almost amazed at how quick the time had moved.

Clutching the warm cup in her hand, she rose gingerly from the chair, placed a hand to her back as she cursed silently to herself about her bad back. Releasing another sigh, Jen realized that through the silence of the kitchen she heard a distant voice, a voice she knew all too well, a voice she loved to hear.

She pushed through the kitchen door, the voice grew stronger, and she could make out the words now, smiled to herself as she without much effort could place the words in her granddaughter's favorite fairy-tale. Oh, how many times hadn't she been reading that to the girl!

Jen leaned against the door frame to her study, her gaze drifting from the small snowflakes tapping at the window – bright white against the dark glass, to the fire burning calmly in the corner, casting its warm light over the neatly furnished room, then she settled her emerald eyes on the old man in the armchair, a little girl of four years sitting in his lap, one small hand gripping at his shirt collar, the glow of the fire reflecting in her blue eyes that were just like those of her father, eyes that were dangerously close to drifting shut. Jen watched amused how the little girl was fighting against the intoxicating threads of sleep that started to grasp at her sleepy mind.

Jen shifted her attention to the man, her husband. He too had aged well, and while his hair was still just as gray, though slightly longer, his face more lined and with more and deeper creases around his eyes, it was just the eyes that she was always drawn to. The icy blue had shifted into a more sapphire blue, still as intense, still with that little bit of darkness hiding in their depth, she'd noticed the difference in them from the day their children were born, and the days their grandchildren were born. They were sparkling; they were kind, smiling and reflecting his happiness and contentment. She placed a thin, fragile hand over her heart, it meant more than what words could describe that she had been the one to make sure that look stayed permanent in his bright blue eyes.

His voice had silenced, the fire's low cracking and the soft tapping of snow on glass took over in the study. She watched him softly caress his granddaughter's auburn hair, realizing a sigh of contentment before lowering his head and placing the lightest of kisses to her head. Then, his wife's name tumbled in a silent whisper over his lips, though she knew he hadn't looked at her once, it didn't surprise her he knew she was there, after more than twenty-five years together she knew it was impossible for her to sneak up on him, as he always seemed to sense her presence.

She suddenly found herself staring into his eyes, her small smile growing wider as she advanced further into the room.

She said nothing as she, with a light grimace, sat down on the arm of the chair. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it sympathetically, knowing of her back problems and the pain she often felt. He dealt with pain daily too, his cane leaned against the desk as his knees were getting weaker and walking was slowly but surely becoming a challenge. She linked her fingers further through his, meeting his face in a smile.

Jen reached out her hand to caress the sleeping little girl's hair, feeling its silky softness under her fingertips. As she attempted to pull it back, her husband grabbed hold of it, bringing it up to his lips to lovingly kiss her knuckles.

As she bent over slightly, the wafting scent of her perfume went up his nostrils, a scent that even after all these years still had a remarkable effect on him, though these days, instead of turning him on, it enveloped him in a comfortable sense of peace – very similar to the effect his soothing blend of sawdust, bourbon and coffee still had on her.

He softly kissed her cheek as she leaned down to read the last line in the book resting in his lap. Her smooth, hushed voice carried through the sleepy room. He was unable to wipe the smile off his face, and the lonely tear that glistened in the corner of his eye, listening to her, and knew it was true.

"And they lived happily ever after."

The End