A.N. Okay we've reached the end. I just want to take a quick second to THANK ALL OF YOU for all of the love you've showed this story. One chap suddenly turned into an entire story. Hope you all enjoyed and who knows maybe I'll return in a bit and do some unseen moments in season three. Thank you all again.

pokie

Day 67: Bo's POV

Reaching down I pick up the little paper rose something just doesn't seem right about leaving it there as if it means nothing, not after everything. Taking a breath I turn around with a soft smile, hoping she sees the understanding, the worrying for her in it. I know we've in a round about way tried to have a little less silent communication in our 'relationship' but this isn't the time to try and probe her with a million and one questions on whether or not she is okay at the moment nor the time for me to try and explain I am here if she needs anything.

I don't wanna be that person who takes advantage of her in a time like this, I know just a few nights ago I was more than ready too do so but then she walked away from me and—suddenly everything changed.

"Time to go human lover," I let out in a nervous, sighing laugh. It was supposed to be charming—endearing even but there is just something about those words now that make it a little more serious then I had intended. She smiles a smile that is beyond confusing. It was genuine—for a moment and then there was a sadness, a heaviness that makes her look away from me the way she does when she is trying to hide what she's feeling.

"I just hope Hale got my message,"

"I'm sure the cavalry's on their way," I say softly idly fidgeting with the paper rose in my hand, I have to look down as I say it. Not so much because I'm nervous but because I'm afraid of what might come out if I look into her eyes much longer. It doesn't help though because when I look back up she is still staring at me—I swear my heart skips a beat.

There is this heavy silence engulfing us, it isn't awkward but it's heavy, smothering almost. Her eyes, her look, her body their all saying so much. Asking so much, begging, pleading and it's a language I know well. I know every question being asked but not spoken. Knew every plea remaining silent I knew them all well because she has been asking them for months—years and honestly they are almost identical to all of the ones I've had.

"Doctor Everett?" I ask heavily almost afraid of the answer as I take a step toward her.

"She must have known what the Warden would do to her, why didn't she get out when she could?"

"Why didn't you? She couldn't leave her patients behind, you felt it. You were right," my soft smile begins to shy away as I watch the tears begin to form in her eyes, her delicate features softening against her will. She tries to look away causing me to take another step in. "About everything,"

I don't know if I meant to say it—I know I wanted too, I've known I wanted to for days now but did I mean to at this moment? It doesn't matter now—it's out. And it's feels—right. It feels right telling her this, telling her what I think I've known all along.

She is trying so hard to keep her tears in and every second they're there it's like I'm being stabbed in the heart with a tiny little knife. I don't know what to do—i never know what to do or what the right thing is so I give in to what I've wanted—what I think she wants.

Letting out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding I close the distance and it's scary and nerve wrecking and it feels like falling but the feel of her hand cupping my cheek, her lips welcoming mine—feels like shes catching me. Its closed lip, it's a little rough and passionate but it's not lustful. It's passionate because—I love her and I think she loves me.

We pull apart and I already miss her. The feel of her lips, her hands, her body but it's not just lust its her—I'm already longing to be in her arms again, just to be held and it's intoxicating—it's frightening.

"It's time,"

"It's time," she repeats softly and I know she doesn't understand what I'm saying.

I know I can back out, make up some goofy lie, make up something but I don't want to. I'm tired of running from her—from us. We've been playing this chasing game for far too long, doing this dance with insanity for even longer.

"Us,"

The tears are there still, scaring me. Her perfect features trying so hard not to show her pain. I can see she is processing what I'm saying and I just hold my breath and wait. Was I too late? Had I messed up one too many times? Could I fix this?

"Really?"

"I want to give this a real shot, be together. Life is too short," it's the scariest thing I've ever done admitting this aloud not in anger or in a drunken stupor or in anything other than love. Other than me admitting the truth I've been fighting against. It's so scary yet such a weight off of me.

She doesn't answer me though, not how I was expecting anyway. Her hands fly to my face and she has me in a kiss before I even know what is happening luckily my body knows her well, it reacts to her without thought, without warning—she is like a missing peace of myself.

I don't know how the kiss moved from innocent to hungry, full of longing and yearning long neglected and I don't know how long we stood here kissing but when we finally pull away we're both breathless—she tends to have that effect on me.

"Lets go home," I whisper breathlessly before placing a quick, soft kiss to her lips, one for the road should hold me over. She looks at me with this desire—this slight hesitance and it doesn't hurt cause I know this time it's not hesitance because she doesn't want to but rather she just can't right now. "You need sleep and food and a shower, possibly not in that order."

"I do," she whispers softly, a glimpse of relief and pure affection in her eyes all of which I am loving.

Smiling I take her hand and start toward the door, my smile growing realizing I am actually holding her hand. Not during or after or before sex. Not because I am trying to comfort her but just because I can, because it's my hand to hold and I can if I wanted to say that out loud—it would be a little odd at this moment but I could.

I look over at her and she looks so tired, so warn down, so hurt—so happy. I can't believe why I didn't do this sooner. What was I so afraid off? She was strong, brilliant, beautiful, perfect –anything I couldn't handle she would be there for, after all we were in this together and quite literally now.

She looks at me raised eyebrow and I can tell I chuckled at my own thought but she doesn't say anything just leans into me a little more.

I can't lie though for every ton of happiness and joy and glee and every other happy word I can't think of but am feeling I was just as frightened. I had never done this, never been in a real relationship and I don't want to mess up, I don't want to hurt her-I can't.

I steal another glance at her and she just has this sleepy smile that makes me want to kiss her and hold her and just take care of her. Just looking at her calms my doubts till their a distant memory.

In the epic words of Ewan MgGregor and Nicole Kidman in that damn heart wrenching and surprisingly enchanting movie I will never admit to watching—come what may. I'm ready.

"Thank you," she whispers and squeezes my hand before letting it go and wrapping her arm around my waist, my arm wrapping around her shoulders instinctively pulling her closer as she lets out this adorable baby yawn.

Correction. We're ready.