DISCLAIMER: It's not finished…it's finished. This has been an exhausting but nonetheless fulfilling experience. And hasn't completely dissuaded me from contemplating a third story. No promises, though.

Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, and thanks for sticking with me even when I had no idea where I was going. Major props to my co-writer, Nic, for her literary contributions. I'm pretty sure I owe her a gift basket. Or several pints of Stella.

Six months later…

"I'm really happy for you, Liz," Shaun said. Surprising even himself by the degree to which he genuinely meant it. "He's a good fella. I mean…well, he's not a goodfella. At least I think he's not."

"No, Shaun, he's not," Liz grinned, folding her arms and wincing. She looked lovely in her wedding dress, but the bodice seemed to be making her miserable.

"I mean, you know…there are a lot of Italians in Australia. Anthony LaPaglia, he's one. I mean, he's not….but you know, his accent is so convinc…."

"Not. Shaun."

"Didn't think so," Shaun replied, shaking his head.

"So when are we going to see you at the end of the aisle in a tux?" she inquired.

"Uhh, my funeral?" he offered. "Oh, here she comes!…" He tried not to show his relief when they saw a striking brunette in a red dress approaching with a plate. "Liz, allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Sara Cross. Sara, this is Liz."

"So nice to meet you!" Sara grinned, hoping she sounded sincere and not gushing for the sake of it.

"Likewise, I've heard so much about you. Only I could have sworn Shaun told me your name was Emma."

"Uh…" Sara looked up at Shaun for a direction.

"Noooo…no. No! Pssht!" Shaun tried to look nonplussed. "No. I definitely said Sara. See, you're just so damn happyyyyy…" – he poked Liz's arm – "you're hearing things. Yeah. This is Sara! My girlfriend. Sara."

"Aaaanyway," Sara smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You've only heard good things, I hope."

"Oh, of course. So what is it that you do?"

"I manage a video store," she replied. "The pay's crap, but the free movies are nice." Sara struggled for other suitable subjects of reception conversation. "The wedding was lovely. I know I can't get enough of Pachelbel's Canon. I mean, you worry that it's a bit cliché, everyone's doing it, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. And you…you look beautiful."

"Oh, thank you! I had to absolutely starve myself to fit into this dress. And the bridesmaids were all complaining about the lilac palette, but I think it goes really well with everyone's skin tone. Especially Dianne. I mean, doesn't she look gorgeous, Shaun?"

"Yes, absolutely," he assured. Dianne did look nice. More tan, less orange...

Liz reached out and grabbed Sara's wrist. "You and I should have lunch sometime. I can fill you in on all his dirty little secrets," she whispered conspiratorially.

"I can't wait."

Neil sauntered up behind the blushing bride suddenly, and with a giggle Liz waved goodbye and danced off again.

"Don't believe a word she says," Shaun insisted.

"Hey, I never asked what Grayson told you about me. Which, by the way, was all malicious lies."

"Well, I had a feeling that the bit about going undercover as a stripper in a Mexican demon bar was probably an exaggeration."

"Oh, yeah…yeah, that was completely untrue," she said, a little too quickly, and held up the plate for him. "Would you like to try some dessert?"

"Cake me, babe." He took a bite off the fork she held up to his mouth and grimaced as his taste buds processed it. "Oh, God. That's foul."

"I know," she agreed. "Who the hell thought almond poppy seed with strawberry was an acceptable cake flavor? I don't think Ed would even eat this." She set the plate down on a nearby table as if it were a biohazard. "Dude, you should see the cake. It looks like the bastard child of Martha Stewart and Liberace. And it probably cost more than either of us make in a week."

"I'd tend to agree."

"At our respectable jobs, of course."

"Naturally."

Sara glanced at the beaming bride and groom as they danced, then back at Shaun. He looked just fine…he looked better than fine in that suit, actually. But she wondered if he wasn't still stinging a little. "How are you holding up?"

"Always a bit traumatic going to the wedding of an ex, isn't it?" he noted. "Still…be a lot worse if it weren't for being sickeningly happy in my current relationship." He cast her a sideways wink and she squeezed his arm. "You?"

"Eh, I've been through worse," she smiled. "Free food, free booze, and a chance to see Liz drunk off her ass. It's actually turned out to be a good night. Plus I get to go home with the sexiest man in the room."

"Hang on, you think you can just feed me cake and I'll follow where you lead me?"

"It's worked before."

"This is true," he reluctantly acknowledged.

Suddenly, Sara's cell phone rang. She fished around in her handbag and answered. No sooner had she uttered "hello" than Shaun reached into his pocket and retrieved his own phone.

"Yes?" Then, the both of them, simultaneously…"I'm on my way."

Sara smiled and held out her hand. "Duty calls." Shaun took it and snaked her around the two tables laden with wedding gifts, winding her discreetly through an array of potted flora so as not to be spotted by Liz or anyone else.

"I never thought I'd actually welcome an apocalyptic emergency," Sara noted as they ran down the front steps of the reception hall.

"I thought you were enjoying yourself!"

"Shaun?" She stopped short on the pavement and gave him that look.

"Yeah, I know. At least we got the call before the DJ broke into the Spandau Ballet and Wet Wet Wet records," he mused. "Remind me to compliment Michael on his timing." They headed out to the parking lot and Shaun opened the boot of the car and did a quick weapons inventory before they headed to the Council for mission details.

"Not another weekender halfway between Nowhere and Fuck-All, Slovenia, I hope," he remarked, tossing Sara her trusty crossbow.

"Never can tell. Hey, can we stop by the flat first? I need to change into my slaying shoes."

"Oh, come on, you've worked a productive shift in stilettos before," he said, holding open the car door for her. "And I can't tell you how much I enjoy watching you. I really…" he sighed. "Can't."

Sara wrinkled her nose at him and slid into the seat. "That was back when I was trying to impress you. And frankly, I don't need another sprained ankle."

"Fair enough," he replied, closing the door and then crossing to the driver's side. He threw his jacket into the backseat and loosened his tie.

"Hey…maybe we can grab some Thai at the Shepherd's afterward?" she suggested, savoring the satisfying click as she loaded an arrow into the crossbow.

"Perfect, baby," Shaun said, firing up the car's ignition. "Perfect."