AN: This is it, the end of season two. At this point in time, further seasons are a maybe, dependent on if/when I get inspiration/energy/time/motivation/etc. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

No Way Out II

"Do you think I did the right thing?" Emily asked out of the blue as she curled her hair. She caught Ian's eye in the mirror, his expression one of utter confusion. "With you," she clarified.

"I'm afraid you've lost me, Love," he replied, fiddling with the ends of his tie.

She smiled fondly at his reflection. "With you – with us..." she elaborated, indicating between the two of them with the curling iron.

"Oh..." He seemed lost for words and a little worried she might accidentally burn him. "What makes you ask?"

She sighed and turned to meet his gaze, leaning back against the vanity. "A woman asked me if it was wrong that she loved a serial killer and I told her that you don't choose who you fall in love with..." She glanced down at the floor, then back up at him through her lashes. "Do you think that's true?"

He hummed thoughtfully, but didn't seem to have an answer. Or, at least, an answer that she wanted to hear, if such a thing existed.

"Do you think I chose to love you, in spite of everything?" she pressed, desperate for some kind of absolution she didn't normally crave.

"I think it only matters that you do," he said, studying her. He, at least, didn't need any reassurance.

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip in thought. "Even knowing everything I did about you, about what you'd done...I still fell for you. I went into it knowing I'd have to pretend, but none of it was..." She flicked her tongue out to nurse the spot her teeth had worn. "I think about what kind of person that makes me..."

"You think you're...evil? Because you love me?" He tried to keep his voice gentle and soft, lest Declan hear from where he was splayed on their bed watching TV and likely rumpling his dress shirt.

She shrugged awkwardly – it wasn't that she didn't have an answer, but rather that she wasn't sure he'd like it.

"There isn't much I believe in, but I know that there's true evil in this world – I've seen it – and I know that you aren't it. I believe that, sure as anything." He seemed to think for a moment. "Perhaps, you're the purest kind of good."

She gave a little self-deprecating snort and rolled her eyes as she turned back to the mirror to finish doing her hair.

"No, I mean it," he insisted, approaching behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders. "You saw past everything to see who I am underneath it and instead of horror, you found only love. That's something I never believed would be given to me, something I didn't deserve."

"Oh, Ian..." she started to soothe, but he didn't let her finish.

"I have no delusions. I know I wasn't a good man. I didn't deserve your love, but somehow it was given to me anyway. I don't understand why, but every day, I thank the Lord that it was."

"That doesn't answer my question," she pointed out.

He laughed a little. "I think it's part of yourself, you couldn't have helped it anymore than you could stop the sun from burning."

She seemed to think that over for a moment, apparently deciding it was true or, at least, she liked the way it sounded. She ran her fingers through her hair, sending her loose curls cascading around her shoulders.

"I'm a lucky man," he said and she wasn't sure if he were referring to their conversation or their appearance. He leaned in to press a kiss to the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

Either way, she rolled her eyes, elbowing him playfully in the chest as a warning not to start anything they didn't have the time to finish. "Declan," she called into the bedroom. "Are you ready to go?"

He came bounding into the bathroom looking rather bedraggled. His hair that had been neatly combed now looked like it hadn't seen a brush in weeks and the tie Ian had nearly had to wrestle Declan to get tied was askew. "Ready!" he shouted.

Emily groaned. "You look like a ragamuffin!" she cried, reducing him to a fit of giggles. "All your friends are going to look really nice for your kindergarten graduation," she informed him, getting down on her knees to meet his eyes, "Do you want to look like you don't own a comb?"

He shrugged.

She looked to Ian for help, desperately hoping this wasn't the start of a phase.

Taking pity on her, Ian joined her on Declan's level. "Look how pretty your Ma looks..." he said. "Don't you want to look really nice like her and make her proud?"

Declan pursed his lips, giving the matter serious thought.

"You know," Ian added, as if it were an afterthought. "We're going out for ice cream afterwards and if you don't look nice and handsome, they'll only give you vanilla..."

Declan's eyes went wide. "But I don't like vanilla!" he exclaimed.

Ian shrugged. "Then I guess you better brush your hair..."

Emily was reduced to tears.

In all the time he'd known her, Ian had never seen her sob like that. "Why are you crying, Love?" he asked, a little desperately.

She kept her eyes trained on Declan as he shook the teacher's hand and she gave him a little diploma. "He's so grown up," she whispered hoarsely. "Before you know it, we're going to be watching him graduate from high school and he won't need me anymore!"

"He just turned six," Ian pointed out, "That's a long way off from eighteen."

She shook her head, bottom lip wobbling pitifully. "No, it's not..."

Smiling fondly at the woman who loved him in spite of all the reasons not to, who loved his son with her entire heart, he pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. "One day at a time, Love," he whispered. "One day at a time."