The ghost stood by the door watching Brian and Justin making love. He could finally breathe normally. The night's activities had had him so tense. When he'd seen Justin kiss the fiddler desperately, almost in relief, as though he'd spent the evening surrounded by cruel strangers and was finally escaping, which wasn't exactly far from the truth, looking back at Brian sadly but then walking away with such determination, the ghost's chest had constricted and remained so until this very moment. The ghost had watched Brian's heart break and remembered the moment his own had broken so very long ago. A moment later, just as he had done, Brian attempted to act indifferent, though anyone who truly knew him would have noticed the tension, the glazed look of a man who was retreating into himself. Brian had deserved to be left, but, at the same time, he didn't. And Justin may have been perfectly justified in leaving, but his heart was breaking, too. Every step he took away from the man he loved was a step toward greater misery than he'd yet known.

The ghost had been reticent to interfere, but he couldn't stop himself this time, for this would likely be the defining moment of their relationship. He couldn't allow his lover's cousin (four times removed) to suffer the way he had or his great-great-great nephew to suffer the way his lover had. This vicious cycle, the eternal Kinney-Taylor power struggle, with its many reversals, had to end. The ghost was a little nervous about the possible repercussions, not only for himself and his lover but also for Justin and Brian, but he pushed down his worries for the moment. This was a victory, and he'd relish it; the Kinneys and Taylors had so few.

A second ghost came to stand next to the first, asking, "Jacob, what are you still doing here? They've reconciled. Shouldn't you give them some privacy?"

A little gruffly, he retorted, "Hah! If I had ever done that, this reconciliation would have been much more difficult to effect. I can't show them memories I don't have."

The second ghost nodded slowly. "True."

Then, in an awed voice, he added, "You really did a wonderful thing. They are so beautiful together."

Jacob smiled and responded, "They are, aren't they? It's about damn time we…they had some luck. It's about damn time that a Kinney-Taylor union worked in life."

After an intense pause, William whispered, "About damn time…"

Then, William took a deep breath and said much more cheerily, "Who cares how long it took you to admit your feelings? Your acknowledgment at the end, and your sacrifice, is worth every pain life or death has to offer."

Suddenly, Jacob merged with William. He breathed, "It was no sacrifice. I was damn lucky to be given the choice. Now I can spend eternity showing you how very much I love you."

As they faded, William replied softly, tears evident in his voice, "I love you, too; more than I could ever express."