Keys: I would love to keep in contact, but I'll need your e-mail address. Anyway, when I get the chance (maybe over Christmas break), I'll write a story just for you! I'll even let you pick the fandom (as long as it's one I've already for)!

Epilogue

Roxton, standing on the balcony, leaned against one of the vast branches of the tree house. It was nearing nine o'clock and everyone was sleeping. They had only gone to bed an hour earlier and Roxton wouldn't have been surprised if they slept until dinner.

He sighed. It had been a long while since he craved a cigar, but he was now feeling the old familiar urge to suck one down to the end. He sighed again and closed his eyes, fighting off the craving as he listened to the jungle.

Softly falling footsteps brought his eyes open and – without looking at his companion – he murmured: "How you feeling?"

Marguerite smiled, not bothering to ask him how he knew it was she. She knew how. It was the same way she knew when he approached. "Fine. Did you sleep at all?"

"No."

Marguerite came to stand beside him, her shoulder grazing his arm. "Challenger and Veronica say you saved my life."

"Do they know that you saved mine?" He turned his head, gazing down at her soft features. She tried so hard to look cold and cruel, but she could never hide her graceful beauty. "You saved my life more than once in the last twenty-four hours. I don't think I ever thanked you."

"Has it really only been twenty-four hours since you threw that T-rex shit on me?"

Roxton laughed, but his laughter was hollow. They really had been through a tremendous ordeal. And at every turn, one or both of them could've been killed. In fact, for a while, he had been dead. Brushing those memories aside, he stated: "That never would've happened if you'd just helped."

Marguerite leaned against his side, peering up at him with a grin. "Let's start this conversation over again. I don't want to start a debate. Not after what we've just been through."

Roxton chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, cradling her to him. "Fair enough. How are you feeling?"

She nudged her elbow into his side. "Not funny."

They stood there together in peaceful silence until Roxton whispered: "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Jumped in after me at the river? Came back for my corpse at the village? Held onto me when we were drowning?"

"For the same reason you saved us from drowning. And the same reason you sucked the venom from my leg."

"And what reason is that," he pried, desperate to hear her say it.

Marguerite, feeling trapped, pulled away. "Well, I for one didn't want to trek all the way home alone."

Roxton shook his head. "No, Marguerite, the real reason."

"Roxton, I don't…"

"Come on, Marguerite. Why can't you just admit that we…"

"No, John. No. Not now. Don't do this. Leave things the way they are."

"Marguerite, I'm not going to dance around it anymore. I lo…"

"Stop," she interrupted. "Just stop."

Marguerite turned around and left, Roxton watching her go. He knew she wasn't ready to hear it, but he also knew that she was aware that he loved her. And she loved him.

Soon, he told himself. I'll tell her soon. She can't hide from it forever.

And then, he, too, drifted off to his room to get some much-needed sleep.

END STORY

Sorry folks, no real romance. They did kiss once earlier when he first came back life. At least that's something, right? Anyway, I was placing this story in mid/late-Season 3. No one had confessed their love, yet. So, I couldn't jump the gun. Sorry.