A/N: Well, here's the last of it. Thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers, my support, throughout this long haul! It's so depressing to finish this, the end product of all those sleepless nights thinking up plot twists. Thanks again, and here's the epilogue!

Xx

Three Years Later

Four years ago, Lisa had always found it difficult to be cheerful. Now, however, she was rarely anything but elated. It wasn't that life was easy—how could it be, living with two assassins and a nineteen-year-old girl?—but it was fun. She stopped trying to pick out the negativity in her life and just let it dissipate on its own.

The days were short on the island. Lisa had hated the hot weather at first, but she'd succumbed to the secluded section of the Canary Islands and used the beautiful climate to her advantage. Every morning, she and Rachel took a long walk on the warm beach in front of the house, before joining Alex and Jackson on the porch for breakfast. The rest of the days were spent with the boys or—if they happened to be gone on a job, as was often the case—wandering the African village that was a four-mile walk from their house. Jackson and Alex came home early most evenings, and the rest of the night the girls spent apart.

Of course they fought. Lisa had come to accept that. She bickered with Rachel, naturally, since being the only female contact did get to be a bit aggravating—but arguments with Jackson tended to be a bit more physical. It was the same with Rachel and Alex—an unavoidable yelling match that led to slamming against the nearest wall, punches, kicks, slaps, whatever. Nothing too brutal, but Lisa had come to ignore the bruises that often popped up on her wrists, satisfied by the even larger one that would show up on Jackson's leg. It was even, and that was all that mattered. As Rachel had pointed out to her once, "These relationships were never ideal from the start. You put two born-fighters together and there's going to be sparks." She was right.

The only thing that mattered was when they came home. Alex and Jackson had a tendency to never neglect Rachel and Lisa, always showering their significant other with affection. That, Rachel had said, was what made it worth it. The kindling of emotion inside, that was what made her stay.

It wasn't perfect. But then, nothing was.

It was merely the best that life could be without being boring.

And that in itself was the definition of perfection.

Ende.