/Cowers in her corner/ I KNOW I've been really bad about updating! I cannot believe it's been almost two months. As penitence, I've posted both the 13th chapter and the epilogue tonight for you folks. And if my internet connection will hold out, I plan on adding the first chapter of Second Shot and the third chapter of Her Secret (finished just this afternoon!) as well. I apologize again and again. I hope to never be absent this long again.

Well, this is it. I'm really surprisingly sad to see this thing go! But don't forget, there's a fluffy (I mean cotton candy and bunny tails fluffy, folks) epilogue after this, so all of you who've been clamoring for Charlie/Amita action, I have heard you and taken your pleading to heart. Check out the epilogue, it's about half Charlie/Amita and half Don/Terry (and just a hint of a pairing I know you all saw coming!).

Disclaimer/Tour guide voice/And here, we have the rights to one of the best shows on television, Numb3rs. As you can see, the card does not read with our dear authoress's name. Therefore, she does not own it. Thank you for your time.

Dedication: To everybody who's been supportive and kind while I plowed through this beast. You are all wonderful, and I can't thank you enough. Hope to see you all--every one of you--in my newer stories. :D

Chapter 13:

Beginning of the End

Don sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the ever-mounting tension in them. /Note to self: This is the last out of jurisdiction case we take. EVER./ He thought, glaring down at the mound of paperwork in front of him.

Deciding to cash in on a well-deserved break, he closed his eyes and let himself relax against the plane seat's headrest. In a moment, his mind had surrendered to sleep, complete with a recollection of the last two-and-a-half grueling days.

We--Terry, Johnnie, Johnnie's lawyer, and I-- sit at the tiny metal table, which is spread with photographs and evidence baggies. Across from me is an insolent Johnnie Baxter, who sits with lazily crossed arms and a defiant expression.

"Okay, Johnnie, I've had about all I can take. I want answers, and I want them now." I tell him firmly.

The boy shrugs noncommittally.

"Why did you do it?'

Johnnie shrugs again.

"Was it jealousy? Did it bother you that Chrissie was everything you'd always wanted to be?"

"Agent, you are so far off." He says, a snicker evident in his voice.

"Enlighten me, then."

"Mr. Baxter, I am advising you to invoke your Fifth Amendment Right and speak no further." Johnnie's lawyer, a fussy, balding man in his sixties, wheezes.

But I've reached the end of my rope. "Why. Did. You. Do. It?"

"Look, it was never meant to go that far. If Chrissie had just kept her mouth shut, none of this would have ever happened. She never should have poked her nose where it didn't belong." His voice is snide; he's all too happy to push the blame off on his sister.

I fold my hands (as best I can) on the tabletop and wait.

Johnnie motions to his lawyer, who leans over and listens. After a moment or two, Baldy turns back to us. "Give us a deal."

"Perhaps…if your client is honest and cooperates. So you," I turn to Johnnie, "had better start answering questions."

Johnnie crosses his arms, ever stubborn. "Not good enough."

"Fine. We have the evidence we need." I shrug, hoping the obvious tactic will motivate Johnnie to speak. "A confession would look good on your record, but…your loss, Baxter." I push away from the table, taking the façade a step farther.

"No, wait." He sighs, resigned. "I'll talk."

"I thought you might." I reply, not even attempting to hide the smugness in my voice and pulling back. "Terry, take notes."

"Got it." She says, pulling out a legal pad and fishing through her purse for a pen.

"This conversation will be recorded. Do you understand that?" I ask formally.

"I do." Johnnie says mockingly, but I pretend not to notice. Instead, I just nod and press the 'record' button on the tape player between us.

"State your name."

"Johnathan Charles Baxter."

"And spell it for the record, please."

"B-A-X-T-E-R."

"Good. Now tell us, in your own words, what happened the evening of March 12, 2005."

Johnnie sighs. "I have to tell you what led up to it, first."

"That's fine."

"Chrissie and I had had a huge fight…" He trails off in thought.

I prompt him gently. "About what?"

"Chrissie was a genius. I'm sure you knew that. She was also a computer whiz. So, even though she was only a freshman, she had gotten an accounting position in the school's office, sorting and updating accounts. Of course, she was supposed to keep everything completely confidential, but she had a big mouth." He grips the cup of water in front of him hard enough to crumple in the sides. "She noticed that we--some of my friends and I, that is--had somehow suddenly been able to pay our tuition, where we'd been struggling to do it before."

"And how did that happen?"

"That's what she wanted to know, but I told her to keep out of it."

"Well, you can't do that to me, so answer the question." My temper flares again before I can squelch it.

"Agent Eppes, keep a civil tongue, please."

I decide to ignore the irritated lawyer, eyes still on Johnnie.

The young man leans back in his chair. "We sold drugs on campus."

"Excuse me…could you affirm that again, please?"

The young man rolls his eyes, uncaring, "We. Sold. Drugs. To. Pay. For. College." He says slowly, clearly, as if we were morons. He tips back in his chair, dropping his head over the back to gaze, bored, at the wall behind him.

"I'm guessing your sister found out about it." I say, comprehension dawning.

"She just couldn't shut up."

"So you killed her."

Johnnie's chair topples to the floor with a resounding clang. Terry is adult enough to hide her smirk, but I don't even bother to try. Even if I do, Johnnie will know I'm laughing at him, so why bother hiding it? A moment later, a sandy-blonde head pops back up. "I didn't kill her, dammit!"

"Yes, you did. You injected her."

"Did not, that was Frank."

"You had a hand in it, Johnnie, which makes you just as responsible as he is." My patience is wearing thin. Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, a habit I've had since I was a child, I take as many deep breaths as possible, trying to calm my zinging nerves. "Back to the twelfth. What happened?"

"She had informed me earlier that day that she was going to have to tell the school." He shakes his head. "I told her she'd be sorry for it, but she was too upset to listen to reason."

"She never told me any of this." I murmur thoughtfully, casting my mind back over those dazed conversations in the moldy basement of some decrepit old house.

"Chris had loyalty issues. She never would have suggested I was behind her kidnapping without being a hundred and twenty percent sure." He's scoffing, apparently, at his sister's devotion.

I nod curtly, motioning for him to continue, not trusting myself to speak.

"So, I called Lex--"

"Lex?" Terry repeats, glancing up from her notes. "Who's that?"

"Alexei." He says, as though she should have known that.

"Oh. Go on."

"Anyway, I called her and she started putting the plans together. In four hours, we had it well-covered."

"Why didn't you just kill her right-out?" I ask.

"We can't just do things, Agent. We have to wait for instruction."

"I see. Instruction from whom?"

"The boss." He intercepts the question forming on my tongue. "And no, I don't know his name or where he is. All I have is a phone number."

"We'll turn that over to the Pittsburgh jurisdiction."

"Fine. So Boss tells us he wants a specialist, someone to 'fix our mistake'. Says he has contacts, can get whoever he wants. He gave us all the instructions, and we followed them to the T."

"Why did your boss want a mathematician?"

"He needed someone to cover our tracks. Someone who knew what he was doing and could do it without a trail. See, once my dear sister's disappearance got around," The scorn in his voice sears through my insides, making my blood boil, "he knew you guys would show up and you were likely to discover the same mathematical error--or rather, inconsistency--that she had. It needed to be erased immediately, before it was exposed and followed…all the way to him."

"So the plan was--?" I'm not quite getting the point here.

"He'd read about your consultant. He knew that Dr. Eppes could handle the task. The plan was to fly your team in to investigate Chrissie's disappearance. Once you were here, well…he was supposed to disappear as well." He shrugs, as though to say that it wasn't his fault the plan want wrong.

I feel the color drain from my face as the memories of my time in the hands of these men resurface. The thought of my little brother in such a predicament makes my chest constrict so fiercely that black spots dance in the corners of my eyes. I lower my face to try to hide from those impossibly-cold blue eyes, to try to get my breathing under control, to try not to lose my professional air. It doesn't work, and I'm afraid I'm going to pass out as more memories-turned-visions of Charlie in my position blaze across my mind.

Fortunately, Terry comes to my aid. "I think a break is in order." She stands and wheels me out carefully, asking one of the guards to stand watch outside the door.

Down the hall, in front of a marble watering fountain, she stops, comes around to the front of my chair, and kneels before me. "Don, breathe. It's okay." She commands, her eyes locking into mine, providing solidity, an anchor to the present. I follow her instructions, feeling the iron bands of panic loosen. I close my eyes, forcing away the apparitions, clamping down on my emotions. A moment later, a ringing cell phone is thrust into my hands. "I called Charlie. Talk to him, it'll help."

I press the phone to my ear with a trembling hand, smiling thankfully at her. Somehow, she always knows just what I need even before I do.

For once in his life, Charlie is carrying his phone. He answers on the fourth ring, "Hello?"

"Charlie?"

"Hey, Don. What's going on?"

"Nothing…just a…bit of a rough time in interrogation." I see Terry's eyebrows raise at the understatement, before she smiles warmly at me and moves to take a drink from the fountain. I suspect she's really trying to give me some privacy without going too far, and I'm grateful.

"Oh." He's quiet for a moment, but decides, after some debate, not to press the issue . "I'm at the hospital, by the way."

"Kylie?"

"She'll be just fine. You'll never believe who's here."

"Who?"

"David."

"Really? I thought the two of them weren't getting on so well."

"Life-and-death situations seem to do wonders for strained relationships." He quips, and I hear a smile in his voice. My pulse finally returns to normal, and I even feel my face relax into a smile. "They're filling out the transfer paperwork."

"Great. Listen, I better get back to interrogation. Thanks, Buddy."

"Sure." He sounds confused, probably wondering why I'm thanking him. After a hurried good-bye, I close the phone and hand it back to Terry with a grateful smile and a hurried thank you before saying determinedly, "Let's do this."

Her face splits into the smile I've grown to love.

In another ten minutes, the four of us are gathered around the table once more, and this time, I'm getting my answers. "Okay, let's get through this. Alexei helps you kidnap Chrissie, then your boss pulls some strings to get Charlie out here to kidnap him. What went wrong?"

"Frank."

"Sorry?" I stammer.

"Frank Dyker. He was in charge of the actual kidnapping of Doctor Eppes."

"And he screwed it up?"

"Yup. He was in the Chinese place, doing something dumb, I'm sure, minding his own business. He heard Agent Eppes here walk in and give his name for his order, and his mind jumped, as always, to the wrong conclusion."

"He thought I was Charlie?" I know the two of us look a bit alike, but not that much.

Johnnie nods.

Terry interjects, "You didn't give him a photo or anything?"

"Look, Agent Pond--"

"Lake." I correct coldly.

"Sorry, Agent Lake, Frank's strong and fast, but he's dumber than a box of rocks. Nobody can figure out how he got into college, let alone passed two years of it."

"So your friends decided to play a game with the lives of your sister and our agent? Brilliant." Terry's voice is cold as frozen steel, but Johnnie just smiles serenely at her.

"Covering our tracks, honey."

I take a moment to quell my thoughts before continuing, angry with myself for letting this young man get under my skin the way he has. "Where did the equation come from?"

"Chrissie created it. The product of very long hours of work…you know the myth that it's easier to work back from the answer to get the problem? Yeah, that's bull. She spent days working on it. That's why we thought Dr. Eppes wouldn't be able to solve it in under three days. He's good." The young man admits grudgingly, and I smirk at the praise.

"How did you manage to force her into that?"

"They didn't tell her why they needed it--only that if she created a good equation, it would help her to get out."

"So she never knew that you had a hand in her kidnapping? Or mine?"

"No, and I had nothing to do with your kidnapping, Agent."

"You were in on it, Johnnie! When will you understand that that makes you just as accountable as the rest of them? How many times do I have to state that?"

"You can't even begin to imagine what I saved you from."

"Oh, really? Try me."

"We'll leave it at the fact that the boss doesn't much like Federal Agents. He had plenty of ideas to make your stay with us more enjoyable." That overconfident smirk has returned, and I resist the urge to strangle the willful twit.

"And I suppose you got right up in his face--figuratively speaking, of course--and stuck up for me."

"More or less." He says offhandishly.

I take another deep breath, "Okay, Johnnie, moving on. Who made the calls from my phone?"

"That'd be me." He replies proudly.

"Okay…who shot Terry?"

"Shot at her. That was Thomas. He missed you on purpose, you know." he directs the last sentence at Terry, whose cool demeanor never falters.

"I'll remember to thank him." She replies evenly. "Thomas who?"

"Rodriguez."

"And who built the bombs for the house?" I ask.

"Thomas and I both did."

"Thank you."

We talk for another few hours, bringing to light everything we can think of to address: the hand-drawn picture (a part of the plan that, apparently, got interrupted by Chrissie's death…Johnnie refused to go into detail), why they'd chosen Charlie (another one that nearly caused an explosion on my part, mediated at the last second by Terry), why the significance of the house Chrissie and I had been found in (it had been a center for drug-involved activity for the last three years, abandoned just last winter due to a drug bust. He knew that hiding us there would be safe, as no sane criminal would return to the place), who it was that had restrained me in the basement long enough to inject me (Frank again; I was really beginning to develop a personal vendetta against the guy), then,

"What did you inject us with?"

"I didn't do it." He says calmly, knowing it will aggravate me.

"Fine." I growl, on the verge of giving up, "What did whoever-it-was inject us with?"

Johnnie is quiet for a moment, apparently trying to decide whose wrath was more worrisome. Seemingly he decides mine is, because he finally answers the question with a wave of his hand, as though her were brushing away a bothersome fly, "Librium."

"You're kidding." I snarl, my face burning. "I hope, for your sake, that you didn't know about that beforehand."

His defiant eyes are answer enough. If I had full use of my legs, I would walk out now. Unfortunately, I'm stuck here for the time being.

Once again, Terry comes to my aid. She tenderly lays a hand over my knee beneath the table. I rest a hand over hers, drawing from her quiet strength, grateful for her presence. "How much?"

"For you…80 milligrams. For Chrissie, I think it was sixty-five."

I close my eyes, feeling that these past five hours have been more stressful than the last two years of my life put together. Taking nearly a full minute of silence, I compose myself and lean over to check Terry's paper.

There's a few minutes of silence while Terry and I look over the notes she's taken and Johnnie and his lawyer speak softly. Finally, I sigh. "Just a few more questions, then your end of this case is closed. You'll have to answer more, though, for the investigation into the drug ring, which we'll be turning over to Agent Smith, since it's not part of the case we were brought out here to investigate."

Johnnie shrugs again. "As long as I know I'm going to be safe…you have any idea how far I'm sticking my neck out here? If these guys find out I'm the one that rolled over on them--and make no mistake, they will--I'm a dead man."

I try to put some sympathy and understanding in my nod. "We'll do our best to make sure you're placed in the most secure conditions possible."

"Yay for me." He grumbles. I'm slightly taken aback--isn't that what he wanted?

Terry gives me a confused look, and I raise my eyebrows, sending her an 'I'm as lost as you are' signal. We're distracted from our mental conversation, however, by Johnnie's elaboration.

"Well, would you want to spend the rest of your life in a maximum-security-prison? Hm, here's a tough decision: jail or death. Fun."

"You should have thought of that before now, Johnnie. Long before now, as in 'before you started selling drugs'." Terry says, raising an eyebrow. Johnnie glares at her, apparently at a loss for words. She answers his unspoken challenge with a smirk.

It's another two hours before both Terry and I are satisfied with the amount of information that Jonnie has given us.

We head out together. As Terry pushes me silently down the hall, I finally begin to relax. It's over. There'll be several more interrogations before we can go home, of course, namely those of Johnnie's company that we already have in custody, but the main mission has ended.

Terry senses my relief and, once we enter the elevator, lays a hand on my shoulder, a simple touch that relays so much. I turn as well as I can to offer her a smile of my own. We did it. I've never been more proud of my team…or my brother.

"We are beginning our descent, please fasten all seatbelts and return your trays to their upright positions. Thank you for flying with American Airlines." The pilot's chipper voice jolted Don from his sleep. He cursed as he realized that he had slept away the entire flight and he still had mounds of paperworksomewhere…his eyes widened as he realized that the papers were no longer in front of him.

A manila envelope was handed across the seat to him. "I filled it all out, Don, you just have to go through, make sure I did it right, and sign them." Terry said, grinning at him.

"You should be sainted."He replied, taking the envelope gratefully. During the last fifteen minutes of the flight, Don rustled through the contents of the packet. Everything was carefully filled out and labeled in Terry's precise, neat handwriting. By the time they touched down at the airport in LA, the envelope was stowed safely in his briefcase, ready for filing.

"Ah, bed." Don cheered, letting Charlie help him from the chair before flopping unceremoniously to the covers of the spare room in his brother's house, where it had been decided he would stay while on the mend. "I can't wait until I can get out of this chair..."

"You heard Doctor Williams. Don't rush it." Charlie admonished, watching Don carefully.

The agent shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it playfully at his younger brother. "Quit hovering." He commanded, but Charlie merely grinned more cheerfully.

"It's my right." He replied, draping the shirt over the back of the chair next to the bed.

"I suppose so." Don admitted grudgingly after a moment of thought.

Charlie smiled at him, "Get some sleep, Don."

"You too, you look like you could use it."

The younger Eppes brother nodded. "Yeah, I could…"

It was another month and a half before Don got the call.

He arrived at his apartment, tossed his keys down, and made his way slowly to the refrigerator--still getting used to the strange feeling of the new walking cast he'd be using for the last few weeks of his healing process--when he noticed the answering machine light blinking. Curious, he pushed the "play" button. Nobody ever called him on his home phone, everyone knew and used his cell.

"Hello, Agent Eppes. This is Jessica Smith, with the Pittsburgh FBI. When you get this, could you give me a call immediately at…" She rattled off a phone number as Don studied the clock, trying to decide if nine-thirty was too late to catch her at the office. Shrugging, he settled on calling, because now his curiosity had the best of him.

He dialed quickly, holding his breath until she answered on the third ring, "Hello, this is Jess Smith."

"Hey, Agent Smith, this is Don Eppes."

"Hey!" Her voice was warm. "How are you holding up?"

"Pretty good, I'm settling back into a routine."

"Glad to hear it. I've got a couple of things to tell you. First of all, Kylie's being released next week, then she's got awhileof down time before she's ready to get into the work force again. I've sent a letter through to your supervisor, outlining how well she worked with your team and recommending she be placed with you. I hope that was okay."

"That's fine, I was hoping you'd do so." He answered sincerely. He liked the young agent's spunk and knew he would enjoy having her on his squad.

"Great. The other thing is, we closed down your drug ring case this week." He could hear that she'd been fairly bursting to tell him this. He felt his face burst into a grin.

"That's wonderful, Agent."

"Thanks. We managed to get all the way to the top from the information you and your team pulled from the Baxter kid. Even better, we discovered that this circle was responsible for over twenty deaths in the area, and we now have the evidence to prove it."

"That's terrific!" Don said genuinely, elated that he'd had a hand in such a monumental case and feeling a bit dazed by the onslaught of information.

For the next hour, they talked. Jessica told him everything she could about the case, from the mundane details to the final showdown. Don was more than eager to hear every word, interrupting often with questions, which she answered patiently. Finally, she seemed to be talked out, and a short silence followed.

"I'm impressed." Don finally said to break the quiet. "What a case."

The girl on the other end of the phone laughed. "You did good, Agent." A short pause, then she seemed to correct herself, "Nah, I take that back, you did excellently. Thank you for all your help, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call. It would be our pleasure to assist you and your team."

"Oh, it was my pleasure." Don said sincerely. "And thank you. There may be a time when I'll do just that."

"Until then, then." Agent Smith chuckled. "Evening, Agent Eppes."

"G'night."

He hung up, head spinning. Deciding he wasn't hungry after all, he made his way to the couch to process what he'd learned that night.

By the time he woke the next morning, Don felt strangely cleansed. He knew that it was because he could now put that life-changingcase behind him. Glancing at the clock as he put on a cup of coffee, he realized that he had nearly two hours until he had to be at the office. As the cheerful sound and smellof perking coffee filled the small apartment, he made his way to the briefcase by the door and pulled out an envelope, a letter which had arrived only two weeks ago. He'd been saving it until he heard what happened with the case, and he felt that he could open it now.

It was a plain violet envelope, addressed in an untidy scrawl. The return address read, "Mrs. Donna Baxter, 151 Lyndon Avenue, Pittsburgh, PA."

He took a seat in one of living room chairs, gazing thoughtfully at the envelope for several minutes before opening it, then lifted out several sheets of lavender-scented paper, all folded around something.

The something turned out to be several somethings, photographs. There were some old family photos--one of Chrissie and Johnnie as children, another one of the entire family on a Christmas morning, complete with snow falling outside the windows, one of Mark and Donna at the funeral--and several of Chrissie's gravesite, complete with flowers, which were dusted with a sparkling cover of late spring snow.

Wiping away the uncharacteristic dampness in his eyes, Don turned to the paper.

"Dear Agent Eppes,

I debated for a long time about writing this letter, and even longer about sending the pictures with it. If they brought up any unpleasant memories, I am truly sorry. I hope you understand that that isn't my intention. I merely wished to show you, a bit more, what our family used to be, along with providing a couple of memories for you, since it's a bit difficult for you to visit Chrissie's site, if you'd felt so inclined.

I cannot thank you enough for all you've done for us over these past months. I'll admit readily that I was uneasy with agents from another district taking over my daughter's case, but you far surpassed any expectations we might have set for you.

The way you cared about Chrissie and her case set you and your team apart. Although I'm sure that her circumstances with her kidnapping and your own were excessively unique for you as well, you never faltered in your search for the truth, regardless of where it might have led you.

I won't lie to you--having one child pass away and the other be responsible for her death has been nearly more than I could stand at times. You and your agents were a lifeline through those difficult weeks. You were honest, but kind; you were painfully professional, but you were still humans, capable of feeling and expressing your emotions.

I'll never forget the compassion you showed to my Chrissie when she needed it. You made a difference to her that cannot be put into words. And, through your expertise, we were able to have her back for those precious few hours. Once again, there are no words to express the depth of gratitude I owe you for such a gift.

Mark and I wish to extend again our sincerest thanks and gratitude for all that you've done. You conquered quite a snare of obstacles in the few weeks that you were here.

I cannot imagine what you went through for my daughter's sake. I know that you must have done everything in your power to protect her; she told us a few stories of her captivity. Her tales of your bravery and devotion were astounding.

I know it will be a long road to recovery for all of us. Emotional pains take far longer to heal than physical ones, do they not? I wish you the best of luck in all your future cases. I pray that you or your team never has to go through what this case offered again.

I will close now, as I'm sure you're busy. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart (as does my husband).

Take care of yourself and your team, Agent. You have a good crew.

With love,

Donna Baxter"

Don sat back, holding the papers in one hand and the photographs in the other, staring at the wall opposite him. She was right, he mused, about the length of the road of recovery.

He refolded the letter and slid it back into its envelope, along with all but one of the pictures. That one was one he'd never noticed being taken…himself and Terry beside Chrissie's burial site, framed against the setting sun. He carefully slid it into a frame and stood the frame beside his computer, a bittersweet reminder of everything he'd gained and lost over the last few months. But, he decided, looking at the picture for a long minute before going to get his coffee, at least the journey had begun. And that, in itself, was worth the difficulties ahead and behind.

END

What a ride. It's over, everybody. It's officially over. :-( But there's much more fluffiness in the epilogue, which is also going up tonight. I can't thank you all enough for the support and encouragement you've shown me over these past 13 chapters. 13, my lucky number. Maybe that's a good sign that more good is on the way. I sure hope so.

Now for final review replies. (For this story anyway. Promise you, I'm not going anywhere!)

Denaliyasha: Hey, anytime. I know, I forget character names for the original characters in fiction all the time. I'm always having to go back and reread. Ah, the epilogue. I'm very fond of it, if I do say so myself. Pure fluff. Hey, insanity is FUN! Being sane is overrated. Nope, cliffhangers are finished, at least for NSF. Making no promises for my future stories, though. Thanks for all the compliments and for the sweet review.

olliek-xox: I am really glad you liked that chapter. I'm partial to it myself: I think it ties with the epilogue for my favorite. That electrical ties part amused me, too. I just love Don's snaky sense of humor. How did you manage to tie your hands together? You're nuts! ;) /Tosses treat to mongoose/ Sorry, buddy. You win some, you lose some. And I agree…SL, come back!

Sqully: Well, I'm impressed. I did my best that chapter to steer you guys off the track. Good job!

Nix707: Thank you so much. Yup, lack of fluff, and I'm sorry about that. It's in the epilogue, I promise!

mizukimarr910: I'm very glad you liked it. I know. I thought about having Charlie get shot, but I wanted to give kylie a chance to prove herself and be heroic. :)

Jill: I love Charlie drama too, and this story was a bit lacking in it, with the exception of his stress during Don's kidnapping. You know what? I don't have the slightest idea what could've been wrong with Chrissie's work. In case I haven't mentioned this, I'm a bit mathematically challenged. And this last chapter should answer all your questions, hopefully. And you mentioned my brother and I growing up…maybe you're right. I hope so. :D

LittleWing: That's okay…I'm just glad to know people are reading. Thanks for the sweet review, and I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Stephanie519: /blushes/ well, thanks. I'm particularly happy with chapter 12, and I'm so glad it was well received. I am thrilled that you like this story so much, it almost makes me wish it wasn't over. But I am glad to be done with it. And yes, SS is next in line, along with an idea that exploded, rather violently into my head last night. I guess there might be three stories going at once shortly. And yes, lots and lots of fluff in the epilogue. Thanks so much for your great review and all your encouragement.

Only Memories: I'm glad you like it so much! There is lots and lots of Charlie and Amita fluff in the epilogue…you'll see. I hope that will fill your quota. Thank you so much for all your encouragement and your help. Never could've done it without you.

Lime: Here's some more, and the (technical) end. Thanks for everything, especially all the encouraging reviews.

Prof3ss3r Marsi: Thanks a lot…I try to make my stories interesting, you know. :D

EclecticTrekker: ah, geez, you do wonders for my bruised writer's heart. I really hope that this chapter meets your expectations. And ooooh! BOOKMARKS/Huggles box/ I always need bookmarks! Mine keep getting lost somehow. I can't thank you enough for your kind words and all your awesome gifts. (Long live Yoda! (Both the movie version and my way-cool cardboard one!))

MissCongeniality: Thank you for your sweet words. And yes, I will continue to post here at As I told Only Memories up there/points upwards/ I currently have 3 stories in motion--Second Shot, Her Secret, and a new one, "Love Me, Love Me Not." just a little heads-up and a little bit of reassurance that I haven't gone anywhere. Thanks again.

Cora Clavia: Oh, Cora, you're too good to me. And there's lots of fluff in the epilogue, as you've seen…Terry in pink, how precious! I'm so glad you're enjoying this, but I have to end it before it drags out too long. I only hope that the rest of my work will continue to please, though I know that NSF will always hold a special place for me. I want to thank you again for all your help. You're an angel.

marymelon3: I'm so glad you are enjoying this. Thanks for the compliments, and I hope you like this chapteras well.

PiccoloChic: Sorry this took so long, hon. I'm so glad you're enjoying it though. And there's three other stories in the future, as I've said, "Second Shot," "Her Secret", and "Love Me, Love Me Not." Hope you've enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy the epilogue as well. Thanks for all the support and the great reviews.

Timespurt: Hey, thanks, and yes, last chapter was supposed to be 12. Thanks for the heads-up, and I'll fix that shortly.

KarateMom: I know, and if you thought the wait for the last chapter was bad…two months! I am really sorry. And yes, I was thinking that whole time that I was writing that Kylie-waking-them-at-5:30 scene that she would have been a very sorry woman if I had been Terry. Not only is 5:30 inhumanely early, but to be wrapped safe and warm in DON'S arms, of all people…yeah, she's asking for it. 27 minutes…oh, man, now MY mind is in the gutter. You're right, it is fun to imagine. Well, I'm glad I fooled someone into believing in Johnnie's innocence. And I was always really careful about Alexei, she was meant to be the big twist. Thanks for the compliments about last chapter, they were wonderful. I'm so glad that 'hostage' situation went over so well, especially since I was really considering scrapping the entire thing. Well, I'm glad you like long chapters, too, because this one takes the cake. I LOVE your reviews, have I mentioned that? Much much fluffiness ahead…thank you so much, and I hope this chapter will meet your expectations as well, sine it's been in the works for almost half a year…:)

MissCongeniality: That's okay, the name for the baby has been selected. I'm here, I'm not leaving. Much more D/T fluff on the way.

Cora Clavia: does the epilogue fill your fluffy meter:D Awe, thanks…humor is something I really struggle with, so its' always wonderful to hear it's appreciated. And yay! I never got an A+ in school…I feel special! I never did get to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, though I wanted to because I really love Johnny Depp. I guess I'll just have to wait now until it comes out on video. :(

MissCongeniality: Yeah, I'm okay…thanks for the concern, hon. I'm sorry…yeah, the D/T fandom will continue to shrink, as Terry no longer exists :( /Sniffle/ think we should all have our jackets for our fanclub…I'd sleep in mine! And key chains…we always need those.

MissCongeniality: Hm…a new girl. Well, I'm willing to like her for now. We'll have to see how she does during the season. P.S. I couldn't find the story you mentioned…is it archived here on Maybe I missed it.

Well, thanks again, everyone. You've made this experience much more enjoyable for me. I can't thank you enough. See you soon! All my love, as always,

Sila Ninque