Author's Note:

Firstly, I'd like to mention a mistake I made earlier in the story. I switched between having Amy's fiancée being Greg and Zach. He is Zach. Amy is marrying Zach. Lita is married to Kevin. Ray is married to Chad. There. Name problem solved…

Now…

A Final Goodbye (Though not so morbid)

The day has come for all of us to let go of our beloved characters. In this chapter I hope you smile, maybe laugh, and maybe have a few heartstrings tugged. Just a bit. Our characters have come a long way. Trust me. I've been with them each step, and sometimes I myself wanted to quit on them. But their story is done. Unwritten, Mina's story (after all this happens), has been started - I think I'll add a few Dare/Sere cameos in there just for fun. Hopefully some of you move on to that! I think it'll be a great deal of fun because we all know how crazy Mins is :)

Thanks for staying with me for so long =) This story and your support has meant a lot - you have noooo idea!

And now… for the last time, really. Read, rant, review. And, of course, enjoy!

You Again?

Epilogue

Amy's wedding was beautiful. The whole country was gorgeous really so they couldn't have gone wrong even just standing out in the middle of nowhere saying their I dos. Of course, that's not how it went down. Amy deserves more than that, and she got it.

Zach's family cottage was not in any way, shape, or form a regular sized one. It had a magical feel with these vines snaking along the rustic wood in this very elegant sort of way. As soon as the girls and I stepped on the grounds we felt it. Some kind of spell must have been cast on the place. It felt like good luck just being inside. The best kind of luck someone could hope for and that's where Amy got married. The girls all had matching orange blossom dresses that seemed to bring out the light in everything around. I can't quite describe it since I know next to nothing about dresses, but they were beautiful. Amy'd picked my maid of honor dress to be a cerulean blue. She said it would make my eyes pop, which made me laugh a bit. But all the old cliches about brides not wanting their bridesmaids to outshine them and thus sticking them with granny attire were proved utterly untrue by Amy's generosity. I can't speak for my own appearance but the girls looked divine.

Though Amy certainly needn't worry. She was the shining beacon to which we all helplessly gravitated. The rays of sunlight illuminating from the nearly setting sky brought an angelic glow to her. She stepped onto the cobblestone path alongside a silver haired man, Mr. Barker. His smile as he looked down at his soon-to-be daughter-in-law was so affectionate and genuine that anyone could easily mistake him for her real father if they weren't told otherwise. At the end of her path her groom awaited. She was the epitome of warmth as she met his eyes, radiating a sense of serenity to the guests in attendance. The music played and Amy flawlessly followed its rhythm with each of her elegant steps beside Mr. Barker. Zach was too eager, his foot was tapping impatiently awaiting her arrival. Before she took the final steps, he moved from his post and Amy was given to Zach after a kiss and hug from Mr. Barker. The priest smiled, Amy giggled, and the ceremony proceeded flawlessly until we were presented with the newlyweds.

The rest of the girls haven't done so badly either.

Lita's restaurant was franchised in three other states besides our own. The second one in New York was shut down within a few months because no one seemed to want to eat at a second best version of her restaurant. The rest are fine though. One of them is in this small town in Illinois that none of us had heard of before. Originally, Lita thought that one might take a turn for the worst like the second New York branch. But, nope, it's a huge success. That's probably due to the fact that all her franchises are now under strict regulations banning them from even holding the ladle the wrong way. She went to visit each of them when they opened and I'm pretty sure she scared them into following orders. Their contracts backed by law brought less fear to them than Lita's return.

How about our lovely, shining Ray of sunshine? Well, she was anything but for the remaining six months of her pregnancy. She cooled it a bit at Amy's wedding, not even complaining about how fat she looked pregnant and in a dress, but afterward all bets were off. She moaned and groaned until the darn kids were out. Yup, I said kids. She had triplets. That explained why she got so huge so quickly. How, you wonder, did she not know about the sheer quantity of fetuses within her own womb? Well… She and Chad hadn't wanted to know the sex so when they went in to check everything out she'd gone into the office explicitly saying, "Don't tell us a thing. We just want to know it's healthy and normal. Don't care if I'm having quadruplet transsexuals. Mums the word, Doc." And he'd listened. Believe me, he got an earful after the surprise births.

She was on bed rest for two weeks which brought all of us, not just her, misery. She made sure of that. She suffers; we all do. Two boys and a girl. They're all mini-Rays too, I can tell. They cry nonstop. Just as loud as mommy. Good luck, Chad.

Mina's following her abstinence plan and she seems happier with it. She jokes that she's become more innocent than even I am. For a while she still had outlandish stories but instead about turning guys down and their reactions. For the past couple of months it's been quiet on her front. I don't know how, but she seems different. Half the time she looks distracted and the other half she's absurdly happy but doesn't have any reason to explain her elation. Maybe she just needed some time to herself. Everyone needs some alone time. I had twenty-eight years of it.

As for your very own, lovely, highly sophisticated spinster? Well, firstly, that title doesn't fit anymore. I'll not only be a published author in just a few short months, yes finally!, but I also have a slightly arrogant, completely absurd, and relatively funny boyfriend. We've now been going out for a year and a half. We've surpassed the first official breakfast date to bigger and better things.

A few months after our reconciliation Darien's book was officially published. There was a launch party in its honor. It was held in the same hotel as our annual Christmas- or Winter- Party. Darien and I went separately, still unsure if our relationship would be approved by the board. Not that that fooled anyone. Even Mrs. Wipple came up to me about an hour after I'd gotten there.

"No matter how long you stare you won't suddenly gain X-ray vision, Dearie." She'd scared the crap out of me too since she'd come out of practically nowhere.

"What are you talking about?" I'd questioned, trying to act nonchalant.

She just shook her head and smiled slyly. "Just remember what I told you. Hold to it, Dearie. Never know when his eyes will wander if he's not on the chase." And she walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

For some reason I don't think that's a problem. Actually, I know precisely the reason. As soon as she'd left my side, I felt myself being pushed in the other direction. Turning around, I'd found Darien smiling devilishly. He grabbed my hand and led me away… to the coat closet.

"Darien!" I scolded but couldn't help but giggle as he closed the door.

He shrugged innocently as he leaned against the door. "Don't want to go down memory lane with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows and I swatted his chest. Mistake. His reaction was quicker than mine was. As soon as my hand was within reach he grabbed it and pulled me towards him. Sighing dramatically he said, "I can't deal with all these people! I'm really thinking this book thing might not be for me. You're losing a valuable client here but I'll give you one last chance to make me happier." His smile, I'm sure, could bring Satan to shame. Completely seductive and devious. I mimicked his dramatic sigh.

"I suppose." And then we recreated an old memory.

God, us and closets… There's just something about them. Actually, it's only the one. But I think that's enough. I really shouldn't be reminiscing about all this, but I always get carried away when I look through albums. And no, there is no closet picture though that would be interesting...

I should probably stop musing and get ready for our dinner date tonight. He said something formal. Dresser here I come… And there it is. I'm just going to be a bit nostalgic and wear the little gold dress from the Christmas party two years ago. It comes with good memories that may or may not include a closet.

An hour later he's here and I've been fully made up with a bit of a surprise, though it's harder to recreate than I remember.

I open the door.

"Meatball Head." He laughs and smiles crookedly, giving me a kiss in greeting.

He's not just being his stupid old self either; I've donned my hair in my old style, just for the hell of it.

"Yeah, and now that you've seen it just give me a minute and I'll be ready." I say and wiggle out of his hold.

"What? No, no. You're perfect. I couldn't have asked for better."

"I'm not going out in public like this," I huff and try to run away but he grabs my waist as soon as I've turned and pulls me towards him.

"It won't be public." He whispers then kisses the back of my neck lightly, turns me to face him, and grabs my hand. "Let's go."

I can only manage a nod before he whisks me away.

About ten minutes later we're at his apartment.

"Your place, huh?" I say suggestively wiggling my eyebrows.

He smiles and rolls his eyes, "Don't tease. You do that a lot."

"I like to keep you on your toes." I say as I step inside after he's opened it.

"I've been on them for eighteen months." I hear him distantly because I'm too in awe at what's in front of my eyes.

"Whoa." I mumble as I look around me. Rose petals cover every inch of the apartment. The rug, the sofa, the TV, the end tables. Then I notice the white. White lily petals draw a path further in and I quickly obey their orders, slipping off my heels to feel the soft petals on my toes. The velvety path leads me to my favorite room, the one with this rustic old fireplace. The petals fall over the loveseat positioned in front of the mantel and onto the table in front of it. I bend down to see what the pile of papers there is. It's a stack that I know from experience can easily be four hundred to five hundred pages.

A manuscript.

"This is what you've been writing?" I ask and flip through the pages. I sit on the sofa and flip to the first page of the story.

"No, no! You gotta start at the beginning." He says, sitting down next to me.

"I am," I look at him, confused.

"No, go back." Okay… I flip back to the other page that I'd seen contained a single line.

"Dedicated to my agent," I start and look up to him with a broad smile but he just signals for me to keep going, "my Meatball Head," I faux glare but continue, "my dream…" my throat goes dry as I notice the last words, "my wife."

He smiles that all too familiar smile, crooked but perfect, gets up and bends down on one knee in front of me. Caressing my cheek softly, he uses his other hand to dig in his pocket. Out comes that black box every little girl dreams of. I can't even control the giggle of elation that escapes me.

"That book is not actually finished," He oddly starts but continues, "But Sere, I want that to be true now. I don't want to wait for anything." He speaks softly while opening the best gift in the world, "I love you, Meatball Head. I'll never stop. Ever since I saw that hair of yours I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't know why then, but I certainly do now." I sit frozen, knowing that if I move an inch it would be to catapult straight at him and he just needs one more second. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" I finally let go of the restraints and fall to my knees with him.

Six Months Later…

I am pretty much certain that if someone had told me two years ago, to the date actually, that that day in a butt ugly burgundy suite- which I thought was beautiful- I'd meet my future husband I would've laughed. If they'd told me the name of said husband I'd probably have had them committed. But, of course, a past self can't really be objective about this kind of thing. Any self isn't objective until it's all been said and done. Then you can really point out the truly embarrassing moments- the ones where you overreacted to irrelevant news, the fun moments- the ones where you let go of all those inhibitions and just went with the moment even if it seemed stupid, and the moments that really, really count- the ones where you decided nothing matters but being with the people that make you inexplicably happy.

Though I think I can say with some certainty that this moment I'm in right now, it counts. It counts big time. I don't need a magic mirror reflecting my future self to be certain of that much.

I see in front of me, not just a man, but a life. A life we'll share together. There's an image of a little cherubic face ahead of me. An image of a slightly aged father. An image of a gray haired couple. Wrinkles and all, I want what's in front of me.

And I claim it that day. With a few simple I dos that bring tears to my eyes and an even simpler announcement, "I now pronounce you husband and wife", it's all mine. And I love it.

"I love you." I say as I capture his lips with my own and fall into the oblivion of his arms….

9 months later…

"I HATE YOU!" I scream in agony as Amy enthuses, "Keep going, Sere! You're almost there!"

"We're going to be parents." Darien says as if he's just figured out some unsolvable puzzle. No duh. What a genius I married. Really. We're going to be parents. How profound. Did the nine months of agony as the kid beat into my intestines, slowly but surely killing me, not give him a bit of a hint? I squeeze his hand tighter, hoping that the pain could transfer through the contact.

"Damn you, SHIELDS!" He is so dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. This is allllll- ahhhhhhhhhhhhh- his fault! My eyes shut involuntarily as the pain augments, making it impossible to do anything but pray it would be over soon. And push. I have to keep pushing!

See, kids! THIS is what REALLY happens when you have sex! Put a video of this in those public service announcements. Problem solved!

"We're back to Shields?" He's laughing now, oh my God! No way is he laughing right now.

"You bet we're back."

"Hey, can we put her hair up in meatballs too?" He asks as I feel another avalanche explode within my abdomen.

"What?" My voice is horse and tortured.

But that's when I hear it. The cry. Temporarily, the agony fades away leaving me in awe at the most beautiful sound in the world. And just like that, I see my little cherubic angel born into the world, disgustingly covered in paste and screaming like she's the one who's been through the last five hours of torture.

"I'm just saying, she'd look awfully cute in meatballs. Just like her mommy."