She found the man in question in the Herald office, bickering away at his brother behind their ancient computer.

"Get the hell out of here, Dave," she snarled. The rage had been building through her entire drive and she could tell how close she was to snapping. She wasn't used to losing control. But rarely did anyone so deserve her wrath.

"Well good afternoon to you too, Audrey." Dave finished the sentence he was typing before he glanced up, nonplussed, and froze at the look on her face. In any other circumstance his shock would have been comical.

"I need to speak to Vince. Alone."

"That really isn't necessary. Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of him." Vince didn't look half as terrified as Dave and that pissed her off. Just because he used to be some tough guy in the Guard didn't mean he could get away with everything.

"Okay then. So Dave, how did you feel when Vince had Sarah's son killed?"

Dave immediately paled, and Audrey's fragile hope that she'd misread the situation died. He pushed back out of his seat on shaky legs. "I'm gonna go."

"You don't have to," Vince protested.

"You're on your own here, brother." Audrey heard the bell on the door signifying that he'd left, but she kept her eyes trained on Vince.

"Tell me I've got this wrong, Vince."

The man heaved a heavy sigh. She could read the guilt engraved on his ancient features. "I wish that I could."

His remorse did nothing to calm her sudden flash of hatred. She had to clamp her hands to her legs to keep herself from reaching for her gun. She'd never wanted to hurt another person so desperately – except for the time Nathan had been lying dead in front of her.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You told me you loved Sarah. Was that just your sick way of covering your tracks?"

"I did love Sarah." Vince's deep voice took on an air of authority when he raised it, but she wasn't afraid or impressed. "Everything I've done since she left has been because I loved her."

"That's bull! Maybe you were obsessed with her. But it wasn't love. I know what love feels like. I could never kill Nathan's child, whether I was its mother or not."

Vince's face had become blotched and grotesque with a passion she'd never seen him express. "You don't understand! Sarah charged me with protecting this town, whatever the cost. But Lucy was different. Selfish. She ran. The Hunter was coming. If she didn't go into that Barn it wouldn't even matter if the Troubles stayed because the whole town would be destroyed. Howard came to me and said I needed to draw Lucy back to Haven. He's the one who suggested such drastic measures. But he promised that as long as Lucy took James into the Barn with her he'd be revived."

Howard's meddling seemed in character, but she wasn't about to let Vince off the hook so easily. "What if he hadn't told you that?" she demanded. "Would you still have done it?"

He sidestepped her question. "Sarah wanted two things – to save Haven and more time with her son. What I did gave her both."

Hearing him call James's death some twisted gift hurt like he'd punched her in the gut. She would always remember the fear in James's eyes when he first saw her as Audrey. Even now she sometimes caught him flinching away, as if his first instinct toward her was wariness. It wasn't just that Vince had murdered her son. He'd murdered the trust between them.

"Did Sarah also want her son to think she'd killed him to save herself?" she spat.

"What are you talking about?" For the first time during their confrontation Vince seemed unbalanced. She pressed her advantage, taking some savage glee in his confusion.

"When James came out of the Barn he thought Lucy had killed him."

"That doesn't make any sense. It wasn't her, obviously."

"I know about your little friends in the Barn. Did you get them to rewrite his memories so he couldn't point the finger at you?" she accused.

"Stop letting your emotions cloud your judgment and think like a detective for a minute. If I was worrying about protecting myself I would have made sure his body never went into the Barn. Lucy and James were supposed to have time together. I don't know what went wrong."

There was something about that whole process that set flags off in her mind, begging her to work through it, but she didn't let herself be distracted now.

"But you did know that it was your ancestors who lived in the Barn and gave me new identities."

He paused, and she could practically see him weighing his options, sifting the truth to fit his agenda.

"Damn it Vince!" she shouted, and her palm flattened against her holster to steady herself. "Full disclosure. You owe me that." She could see him swaying, but he didn't topple. "You owe Sarah that."

Evoking her former self did the trick, leaving her to wonder if perhaps he had loved Sarah after all. She had believed it at the time of his admission, but she couldn't fathom how he could love Sarah and kill her son. She'd do anything to save Nathan from such pain. "I didn't know, back when Sarah was in Haven. But I saw them once or twice around town. The family resemblance was obvious. When they showed up again when Lucy was here, practically unaged, I grew suspicious. Dave and I confronted them. They told us of the pact they'd made for a never-ending life together. They weren't willing to do anything that jeopardized that. I thought if Lucy could keep her memories next time she returned she'd be more willing to go into the Barn. But they said that wasn't allowed, and they would not be swayed."

"So you went to plan B. Having James killed by this own grandfather."

"I certainly didn't know that," Vince said sharply. "There was no reason to suspect it. Nathan was just a boy. Far younger than James."

"But it was Max Hansen, right? What, did he owe you a favor?"

Vince scowled. "Max Hansen didn't do favors for anyone. He was a violent, unpredictable man who beat his wife and son and terrorized anyone weaker than himself. Garland wanted to make him pay, but he was too noble to do it. I saw an opportunity to put him away for a long time. You remember Ginger – the little girl who could make anyone do what she wanted? Her grandfather did owe me a favor – so I had him give Hansen the order. I knew afterwards Hansen would figure out what happened and go after that family. So I made him forget. He knew I'd been involved – well, me or Dave, but Dave wouldn't have the balls to go against him. It gnawed on him that he couldn't remember why he'd done it. All those years in Shawshank, unable to figure it out. He threatened me when he got out. I thought maybe I'd have to kill him, but Garland got to him first."

"That's Nathan's father you're talking about," she said with disgust.

"No it isn't. Garland was that boy's father, and that's a damn good thing for you, because who knows what kind of monster he would have become under that man's thumb."

"Nathan could never be a monster!"

"Spoken like a fool in love. There's a little monster inside all of us. That's what makes the Troubles so dangerous. They bring it out. Give it power. Max was isolated from the world. Invincible yet untouched. Unable to be comforted. Pain lost meaning because he forgot what it felt like. He couldn't connect to the world or anyone else. All he had left was anger. Tell me you haven't seen the same brewing in Nathan."

Her heart recoiled at the notion. Nathan was never cruel. Despite his affliction he held on to compassion – a compassion he'd certainly never learned from Max. She doubted he'd gotten that from Garland either. The Chief had raised him to be fair and strong, but he hadn't been generous with affection. For all his flaws there was something inherently good in Nathan, and Audrey would never accept otherwise.

But she had worried about him when he started to infiltrate the Guard. There was a ruthlessness in him willing to do whatever it cost to protect her – and the cost had been catastrophic. His anger had built ever since she pushed him away, its explosion leaving Howard dead and the cycle broken.

But it wasn't the same. He'd never meant to hurt anyone, and the guilt of what he'd done still haunted him. He'd never lay a hand on her or their child or take his misfortune out on others.

Except his lot wasn't the same as Max's, because he had her to drive away the numbness that ate away at him. He could feel her touch, offering solace and pleasure and blissful moments of normalcy to tether him to a life that was otherwise so unfulfilling.

Even without her Nathan would never have become a monster. But he may have been different. Colder.

She shook her head. Such conjecture didn't matter. He had her now, and she'd make sure he always did. "There's clearly a bit of monster in you."

"I came to terms with that a long time ago."

"You won't get away with this."

"I already have, my dear. What are you going to charge me with? James is alive now – and the same age he was when he was killed. How are you going to explain that in court? There's no evidence linking me to the crime even if you could establish that it happened. Hansen is dead. Unless you've recorded this conversation there's nothing to tie me to the murder. If you try to take me into custody you won't be able to hold me. They'll forget why I was there."

Her hands shook with anger as she pulled her gun. Vince had to be punished, and if the legal system failed her she'd have to take matters into her own hands. "I could just kill you."

He didn't flinch. She forced her hands to still and released the safety. "You could. But you won't. You're better than that. At least Sarah was."

"What about the monster inside and all that?"

"You've spent hundreds of years keeping yours in check, Prudence. This won't be the day that you snap."

Of course he'd known her original identity all along. Damn meddling bastard. "I've never had a child to protect before."

"You still do. You're forgetting that the boy's alive again. Do you really want to toss away the life you've built for revenge for a crime that's already been undone?"

Truth was when the Troubles were involved law and order held little sway in their town. She wasn't sure anyone would charge her for killing Vince long as she spun it the right way.

But Nathan would know. And as angry as he'd be for what Vince had done to James, she didn't think he'd approve.

She clicked the safety back on but didn't lower the gun.

"There's not a day that I don't look at you and wonder if I made the right choice. You can hate me for it. I may deserve that. But remember this – your existence as you know it is only possible because of what I did. If I hadn't lured Lucy back this town would have been razed by the meteor storm. Thousands of lives would have been lost. You'd never have become Audrey Parker. Lucy would have never seen Nathan again, even if he did survive. James probably would have ceased to exist, because he would never have been conceived. Ask yourself – is that what you want?"

She was still reeling from the shock of alternate reality he painted when her phone rang. She jumped, fumbling with the gun as she put it back in its holster and pulled out her phone. She saw Duke's name flash on the screen and had the irrational feeling that as soon as she picked up he'd know what she'd been doing. Of all people Duke wouldn't judge her – but she wanted to be better than this. Wanted him to think better of her.

"Tell me you found it," she demanded. And there, on top of the maelstrom of rage and confusion Vince's story evoked, the anticipation came rushing back. Duke might have uncovered the final chapter of secrets, which could either keep her in Haven or doom her and everyone she cared about. The clock was running down and she needed a weapon to make her stand. She had not wanted to go into the Barn, but she'd convinced herself it was for the greater good. But no good would come from dying at the hands of the Guard, and the thought of losing Nathan, James, and Duke was unbearable.

"Bossy," he teased, all lighthearted sass that she normally identified with, but right now they had no time.

"Duke," she warned.

"I've got it," he said solemnly.

She closed her eyes against the relief that washed over her and took a deep, steadying breath. Maybe it would be okay after all.

"Meet me my place."

"I'll be there."

She hung up and glanced at Vince, who was watching her with unhidden curiosity. "What was that about?" he had the audacity to ask.

"Stay the hell away from my family," she answered, and left him behind without another word.

When she pulled into Nathan's driveway ten minutes later Duke was leaned against the hood of his jeep with a weather worn book in hand.

"I didn't look inside," he said, holding it out toward her. "Figured you should do the honors."

She ignored the proffered volume and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a fierce embrace that threw him off guard. "Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder, grateful for the absolution he offered so freely almost as much as the clue he had found.

She could hear Nathan's Bronco rumbling to a stop and the door slam, but he didn't interrupt them and she couldn't pull herself away quite yet.

"It's weird to think that little book could solve all this, maybe. We may have left ourselves the answers and then forgot." It was a banner day when Duke got serious enough to philosophize. But while the prospect of ending the Troubles should have excited her she was too drained to even contemplate it. The last few months had been exhausting, and she was reaching her breaking point. Lucy had killed Duke's father in front of him and nearly let the town burn and Audrey had almost put a bullet in Vince's head, and those were only the developments of the day. She couldn't begin to fathom what Sarah and Lucy's journal would tell her. She wasn't sure she had the strength.

All she wanted was a quiet life with Nathan by her side. She didn't want every moment to be a fight for the town's salvation and her own continued existence.

"What if it doesn't work?" she whispered. She hated letting Duke see her so weak, but he'd never judged her for it before.

"It will."

"How can you be so sure?"

He pulled back slightly and offered her a wry smile. "We proved my old man wrong, you know. We are friends, despite what happened. No need to kill each other. God, that would have pissed him off." He chuckled, and she couldn't help but follow suit. "But that overprotective boyfriend of yours might kill me if I don't let go of you, so I should probably scram."

She dropped her arms and offered him a watery smile.

"You call me if that book tells you anything I can help with."

They had come such a long way from the time when she'd had to strong-arm him into favors. "I will."

He pressed the book into her hand. "Relax, Aud. We're getting to your happy ending."

The sentence was so uncharacteristic coming from Duke that she snorted. "Wow. Of the three of us I thought Nathan was the sap."

"Lucky for you I'm always right."

He turned away with a waggle of his eyebrows, offering Nathan a messy salute. "Howdy, Nate."

Nathan grunted a response. Audrey approached him slowly, not sure she had the energy to argue if he had the wrong idea.

But his face changed from neutral to concerned as he got a good look at her.

"You all right?" he asked, reaching out to brush the hair out of her face.

She leaned into the contact, closing her eyes to savor the feel of his callouses against her skin. "I don't know," she admitted. He stepped closer, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "I should be." She pitched forward to lean against his solid chest and his arm snaked around her waist. "But I don't think I am."

"Hey." His thumb stroked a deliberate pattern across her cheekbone. "What happened?"

What hadn't happened in the hundreds of years she'd paid for someone else's crimes, leaving broken lives in her wake? But he just meant in the last few hours. She'd have to tell him about Simon and Vince and the sins of the past, but right now it was the future they'd have to face. She pulled back enough to show him the book she was holding. "I found Sarah's journal."

His eyes widened. "Where?"

"Duke buried it. Lucy gave it to him for safekeeping. Neither of us remembered until today."

Nathan's eyes narrowed, and she knew he'd connected the dots. But she was extraordinarily grateful when he didn't press her about how dangerous it was to remember.

"What does it say?"

"I don't know. Haven't read it yet."

"Come inside," he suggested, gently tugging on her hand. She linked their fingers together and followed, letting him pull her toward the couch. Once she was settled she stared down at the book in question. The cover was worn brown leather, with the word "Sarah" embossed in gold block letters. The edges of the pages were gilded. She lifted it toward her face. There seemed to be something familiar about the smell, but the memories danced just beneath the surface of her consciousness, out of reach.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked softly.

"No!" She clutched his hand so tightly it might have been painful for him, but he didn't flinch. She wasn't sure why this was different from Prudence's journal. She'd been desperate for space then and he'd been reluctant to give it to her. Now he was offering to go and she needed him to stay. She wanted to curl into his side so his warmth would remind her of his presence. She wanted him to be there to hold her if it all fell apart. "Stay. Please."

"Course."

She scooted into him and he slid his fingers into her hair, tugging the band free so it tumbled around her shoulders. He'd gotten good at the move. For weeks he'd snapped them in anticipation or left her hair in a tangled mess. The trick, he'd learned, what to search for what he couldn't feel.

"We're going to be okay, you know," he said after she'd stared at the cover for a few minutes, unable to open it. "Sarah and Lucy had a plan. No matter what it is, I'm not giving you up."

His words swelled in her chest, her battered heart so desperate to believe them. "How can you be so calm now? You were such a mess when I came back. Now I'm the one losing it."

He leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Only one of us needs to be strong at once. You've been holding me up for a long time. Let me take this watch."

She nodded against him, helpless against the warm tears that rolled down her checks.

"I believe in you. Always have. You can do this."

She kissed him, letting him show her with actions what for once he'd already found the perfect words for. When she pulled away she looked down in determination and opened the journal. There was Sarah's familiar script she'd seen in her letter to James. But suddenly Audrey realized this wasn't where she needed to start. She already knew most of Sarah's story. It was Lucy's journey she needed to understand.

She flipped the book over and turned to the last page.

She'd seen Lucy's handwriting inside the locket, but that had only been a few words. Her script was narrow and slightly messy, in manuscript rather than cursive. It seemed to match the woman she'd met what seemed like a lifetime ago, who'd spoken of another with the same name and same memories, but a different face. Audrey's face. The original Lucy Ripley.

With a deep breath, Audrey started reading.

The curse was cast to prevent Prudence from marrying her love. It is sustained on the potential energy of that union which never was. If the wedding were to take place, the curse would no longer have purpose or power to sustain it.

There were two Polaroid photos taped side by side of pages from some ancient, yellowed book of old fashioned names. Two were circled in thick Sharpie.

Prudence Audrey White.

Thaddeus Nathaniel Hansen.

And then Lucy's handwriting again, in all caps and underlined.

FIND NATHAN.

Audrey dropped the book with a squeak, her mind trying to process the revelations crashing over her in waves.

"Audrey."

Nathan turned her head toward him gently, his eyes beseeching her for answers. But when she opened her mouth no sound came out and she could only shake her head unhelpfully.

He plucked the book out of her lap, skimmed the last page quickly, and then closed it with a boom like a thunderclap.

"Marry me."

Her head was still shaking, but his plea unfroze her vocal chords as panic clawed up her throat. "Nathan, don't. We have to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about? I love you more than life itself. If all I have to do to end the Troubles is marry you – God that's fantastic." His face had split into a dazzling grin, but she wasn't sure she could breathe.

This was not how this was supposed to go. They were supposed to end the Troubles together, and he was supposed to marry her – someday – but these two things were not supposed to be tied together in some twisted act her former selves had plotted out fifty odd years ago. Or four hundred, depending on who you asked.

"I don't want you to have to marry me just to keep me around."

He sobered instantly at her distress, his hands reaching up to cradle her face. "Audrey," he started, before shaking his head and letting out a labored breath. "Parker. You listen to me, and don't you ever forget this. I am not asking you to marry me because of some book. There is nothing in this world that would make me more honored than you agreeing to be my wife. I've wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time. If we weren't so consumed by the Troubles I would have already asked you to marry me. But with all the pressure you've been under I didn't want to freak you out. I'd hoped we could put all this behind us first. I'm sorry that we can't but I promise you – I am not asking you to marry me because of that book. The book is just the reason I'm asking you to marry me now."

He was looking at her with so much love and devotion, his handsome features brimming with intense admiration. It should have felt perfect and it didn't.

"You're not him," she whispered.

"I know, but I'm as close as we're going to get after four hundred years. Thaddeus Nathaniel and Prudence Audrey. Our awful middle names. That can't be a coincidence."

Which was exactly what she was afraid of. It was too neat. Too orchestrated.

"I don't want you to be him," she admitted.

He dropped her face and stood up. "It's a little late in the game to go looking for a long lost cousin or something." He was trying to make a joke out of it but she could tell that she'd hurt him. She reached out and grabbed his hand so he couldn't retreat too far.

"Stop it. Of course I want you. It's him I don't want. This Thaddeus Hansen." She spat the name, Prudence's misery still fresh somehow after four hundred years. "He hurt me so badly, Nathan. He didn't believe in me, and then he married the woman who cursed us all. And that's supposed to be the cure? Marrying him?"

"He was an idiot. I would never do that to you."

"You already did." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Once she saw the devastation cross his features she wished desperately that she could take them back. He was trying to save her – love her – and she was destroying him. But this needed to be said. "I needed you, and you chose Jordan."

He pulled out of his grasp, rocked back on his heels and clenched his jaw as if he was readying himself for another sucker punch. "I never wanted Jordan. But I understood her. Thought I could help. Instead I used both our Troubles against her. I've never been more ashamed of anything in my entire life. The worst part is whenever I was with her all I could think about was you. Why do you think I get so crazy every time you remember your past lives? I think about what you went through in that haunted house and on that cliff - how you needed me and I didn't even know. It kills me. If I could get Stuart Mosley to send me back to do it all over I would. I can't change the past, but I promise I will never, ever do anything like that again. I will fight for you, no matter how you try to push me away. But please, don't let her come between us again."

She nodded through bleary eyes, unable to deny his earnestness. She knew he felt bad about Jordan and didn't want to turn this into a guilt trip. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay." But even she wasn't sure if she was agreeing to his proposal or just to let go of the past.

Not even in her childhood affection-starved nightmares had she imaged herself fucking up a moment like this so badly.

He sat down beside her again and pulled both her hands into his lap, running his fingers up her arms and then brushing his thumbs down to her wrists, leaving blazes of heat in their wake. When had she gotten so cold?

"What's going on here, Parker? If you really don't want to marry me then we'll find another way. But don't give me excuses. Please."

He sounded so sad she was struck by the appalling thought that he might take back his proposal, and it was the resulting terror that stole over her that made her realize she needed to assure he did no such thing. How had she let him think that for even a minute?

"No!" She clamped down on his arms so hard that this time he did flinch. "I mean yes. God, yes, I want to marry you! So much. Haven't I said that already?"

"Nope." But there was a light in his eyes again, a smirk on his lips and a touch of humor in his voice. Something loosened in her chest, some of the panic dissipating into the air around them. "Too busy freaking out."

"I do," she assured, leaning over to rest her ear over his heart, the steady beating soothing her jittery nerves. He wrapped his arms around her and she was instantly enveloped in safe – a feeling she'd striven for all her life and only ever found with him.

Maybe there was the problem. It wasn't that she didn't want this. It's that she'd wanted it for so long.

"I want this to be real," she admitted. "I want us to be real."

He combed a hand through her hair. "Course it's real."

She looked up at him. "Is it though? Lucy left me a book of instructions on how I needed to find you. And those names – our first and middle names were switched four hundred years ago. If that's not predestination I don't know what is. Did we even have any choice in the matter?"

She waited for his face to crumble as he realized their entire relationship had been built on a foundation they hadn't constructed. But he just kept smiling at her, his hand stroking through her hair, unperturbed.

"Maybe Lucy and Sarah had a plan, but you and I didn't know about it. We fell in love anyway. It'd be different if the book told you to marry Dwight or Stan. That wouldn't be real."

"I dunno, me and Stan are pretty hot and heavy when you're not around."

He growled, and she giggled into his neck.

"There's my girl," he said, his fondness sending her blood quivering.

"Maybe it was fate or reincarnation or someone pulling the strings. I don't know how the universe works. Frankly I don't care. It doesn't matter to me why we fell in love, just that we did. I told you – I want to marry you whether it ends the Troubles or not. But you gotta admit, that'd be pretty nice."

She allowed herself just a few seconds to consider it – the town at peace and her husband with all senses intact.

"Seems a little too easy."

"Really?" he said with a snort. "Cause this hasn't exactly been a walk in the park."

She rolled her eyes. "You're right, I guess. But I was picturing some kind of quest. Maybe a gateway to another world."

"This proposal has felt like a quest," he teased.

"Ask me again," she said earnestly, suddenly struck by the need to have some romantic memory unsullied by supernatural quandaries. A story they could tell their future children. And James and Duke, who didn't need to know how much time she'd spent hysterical. "Pretend the last fifteen minutes didn't happen and ask me again."

He slid out of her grasp and got down on one knee beside the coffee table. When he raised her right hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss there her veins filled with butterflies. Their eyes were level and his were shining. She could hear her heartbeat in the silence. And God, how she wanted him, more than anything else she'd ever fathomed wanting.

Miracles of miracles, he wanted her too.

"Audrey Prudence Parker," he said, voice low and thick. Her breath caught and her heart swelled, and she simultaneously wanted him to hurry up and to stay in the moment forever. "I love you more than I could ever say, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether that's two months or two centuries. Will you marry me?"

This time she didn't hesitate. "Yes." She pounced on him, her lips finding his and her hands finding their way into his hair. He pressed her closer, one hand splayed against her cheek and the other making its way under her shirt to rest, warm and steadying, on the small of her back. Since she wasn't used to being on his level the angle was unfamiliar, but his hand guided her and she was too dizzy with thoughts of the future to care much.

When they broke for air she stepped off the couch and pulled him upright, sure his knees would appreciate the relief even if he hadn't noticed the strain, and then she lost herself in him again.

When her head finally cleared after the second kiss she pulled herself away, ignoring his puppy dog pout as her mind raced. "So, getting married. What do we have to do? Get a license, I guess. How long does that take? Do couples have to get blood tests in Maine? Gosh, I hope that doesn't turn up anything scandalous, like me being four hundred years old. You don't think there's any chance we're related or something awful?"

"No, I don't," he said drolly, but he was grinning like a fool and it was infectious. "Let's start with the ring, okay? I think this was supposed to come before all the making out. You got me distracted." He reached under his collar and pulled out the chain he always wore. The ring dangled there, all sparkle and promise.

"PAH," she recalled with dawning realization as she held out her hand. "Prudence Audrey Hansen."

"Dense, weren't we?" Nathan said with a chuckle as he slid the ring on her waiting finger. "I've been carrying this around for years."

"And I've got the wedding ring." But that didn't bother her the way it would have half an hour ago. She looked down at her hand and had to blink back tears. The ring fit perfectly, the pale metal shiny against her skin. It felt like she'd been waiting forever to wear it.

She had known, when he'd been dead, tragedy making her feelings sharp and clear. "I have always loved you."

Sarah had known too. It's why she'd given herself to a stranger.

They'd never been strangers. Not really.

"Mighta been an idiot, but he was one hell of a blacksmith."

She laughed, the intensity of the moment lifted. "So, where do we go next? City Hall?"

His disgust was palpable. "We're not getting married in City Hall."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't care where we get married. We just need to break the curse, get Bernie off our back. Make you better," she added shyly, unsure if he'd taken the time to let that sink in.

"Member how I told you I wasn't marrying you to break some curse? We're only going to get married once. It should be special."

"We don't have time. If the Troubles aren't gone in six weeks—"

"Yeah, six weeks. Not six hours. We can take a couple of them to make some arrangements. Aren't women supposed to dream about their weddings?"

"Apparently I did, back in the 1600's. Been a little distracted ever since." Audrey Parker had never been one to read bridal magazines and fantasize about marrying celebrities. She'd been pretty resigned to living on her own.

"Then I'll take care of the planning. All you have to do is show up in a dress. Deal?" She found it adorable that Nathan cared enough to do that, when she'd honestly be content to get hitched on the way home from work. She was curious about what he'd come up with. The man was pretty good at romantic gestures.

"Do I really have to wear a dress?" she pouted just to rib him on, not because she actually minded.

"Normally I'd say you don't have to wear anything at all," he answered, his voice so low it made her shiver. "But since our guests will include Duke and our son, you should probably wear something."

She could feel herself blush. "Duly noted." She glanced down at the ring and spun it once around her finger.

"Shame the initial are wrong," she noted. "Should be APW. Audrey Prudence Wuornos."

The look of raw hunger that crossed his face when she said his last name obliterated any lingering fear that he didn't want this with all his heart and soul. He swept her into his arms, and she squeaked and threw her arms around his neck as she suddenly found herself off the ground.

"Where are we going?" she asked, but she already had a pretty good idea.

"To celebrate," he answered as he ducked down to press a kiss to her exposed throat. "All. Night. Long."

Sometimes her fiancé had some damn good ideas.

Hours later she peered over at him as they caught their breath after their most recent go-round. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and she reached out to pat it down fondly, to absolutely no avail. "I really hate to break this up, but I'm starving," she said dramatically, clutching at her stomach. "If you don't feed me there's no way I'm making it until morning."

He pushed himself into a sitting position as she watched his muscles contract and his skin glisten. She would never get tired of seeing him like this. Her very own Adonis.

"I'm sure there's something in the fridge."

She shook her head. "That'll keep you out of bed too long. Can we order a pizza?"

"Yeah." He grinned at her, every pore radiating such absolute happiness she couldn't help but grin back. It was like he was glowing. He'd been that way since he'd taken her to bed, and it was kind of ridiculous. But there was an answering joy singing in her soul and she let herself bask in it for a while.

Till her stomach rumbled and reminded her this was getting a bit mushy.

She pushed him lightly on the shoulder. "Okay, Romeo. Get on with it."

He called for the pizza, and she managed to keep her hands off him until the food arrived. She took stock of him as he got dressed: his incorrigible hair, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and the mark on his collarbone. Pride swelled within her – she'd sexed him up good. There was absolutely no way he was going to make himself presentable enough that the delivery boy wouldn't know exactly what they'd been up to. Which meant it was only a matter of time until the whole town knew.

She sank back against the pillows. Aw well. Maybe this way they wouldn't have to send out an engagement announcement.

Their celebration had burned off all the nervous energy that had consumed her for most of the day and had been driving her slowly mad for months. She felt delightfully relaxed, her body languid after being so expertly catered to for so long. All her reservations were gone as well. Marrying Nathan seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and she wasn't sure why she had looked for so many loopholes.

By the time he returned with the pizza and a bottle of wine she'd thrown on one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers; it seemed weird to eat naked.

He poured them each a glass of wine and then handed her a paper plate. "To us," he toasted.

"To us," she echoed, snatching a piece of pepperoni and sausage pizza. "This is heaven," she moaned as soon as she swallowed.

"Make a guy feel a little insecure," he quipped with mock sincerity.

"Trust me Wuornos, you have nothing to be insecure about," she purred. "But this may be the best pizza I've ever eaten."

She scarfed down three pieces hardly pausing, legs crossed at the foot of the bed while Nathan leaned against the headboard. "This feels so normal," she remarked wistfully.

"Didn't realize pizza and wine were the typical engagement meal."

She chuckled. "Oh no. You so owe me a fancy dinner, partner. But this. Sex. Food. No work. No supernatural catastrophes. Just the two of us, in our own little world for a while. I like it."

He has such beautiful straight white teeth. "I like it too."

She saw him steal a glance at the last piece of pizza and she nudged the box toward him. "You should eat that."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't."

She cocked her head to the side. "Why not?"

He hesitated and she wondered why, because she'd meant it as an innocent question. "I can't tell if I'm hungry or full," he finally said. "So I know how much of a food I should eat, and I only eat three pieces of pizza."

"You've already had four," she pointed out.

"Figured if you could eat three, I could eat another one." His tone had lightened, and she wanted to call him out for drawing attention to her appetite, but she didn't. All the meals they'd eaten together, as partners and then as lovers, and she'd never known this about him.

"We'll split it then," she declared. "Cause if I can eat three and a half slices, I'm pretty sure you can manage four and a half."

He nodded and she grabbed the last piece. Instead of breaking it down the middle of the crust she tore off the bottom and dropped it on her plate. She stole one of his pepperonis before handing him the upper half.

"Gee thanks," he deadpanned.

"You're very welcome," she sassed back, light and airy. But there was something squeezing in her heart. It wasn't pity, exactly. He didn't need anyone to feel sorry for him. He wasn't broken – she'd never accepted that. But he wasn't whole. Maybe it was empathy she felt. Except that wasn't right either, because she couldn't actually fathom what he went through on a daily basis just to function as he used to before he was Troubled.

Perhaps it was just love.

"You know," she said gently, not particularly wanting to break the Trouble-free spell they've been under but suddenly needing to see his reaction to their latest development. "If this works—"

"When," he interrupted.

"When this works," she amended, "your Trouble will be gone. You'll be able to feel again."

She watched him closely, but there was no light of dawning realization. He shrugged slightly, and that was all.

"That excited huh?" she said, trying for his trademark wry tone and failing somewhat; she was too obviously incredulous.

He looked down at the pizza, set the plate on the bed and then looked at her. "When my Trouble came back six years ago I went to the doctor so I could pretend there was a rational explanation. I figured out how I needed to adjust and life went on. The worst part was the isolation. No one understood how nothing seemed real if I couldn't feel it. But I knew I just had to put up with it for a couple of years until the Troubles went away again. Then you showed up." He smiled and shook his head a little. "Even before you touched me you made things better. My body was dead, but you woke up my mind, and then my heart." He reached out and laid his hand on her ankle. "And now my body's not so dead either," he added with a smirk. "Even if the Troubles never go away, long as you're with me I'm not alone anymore."

She didn't understand how that could possibly be enough for him, but he seemed so sincere. "But it'll be better when they're gone, right?" she pressed.

His smiled widened, and she wanted that for him, desperately. "Yeah. Suppose it will," he conceded.

"I'm sorry I didn't say yes right away," she apologized, needing to take back those awful, frantic moments when he thought she didn't want this.

"'S okay. I knew you were going to freak out. Probably should have framed it better."

"It wasn't okay," she argued. "Happiest moment of my life, and I have a meltdown."

"What happened with you and Duke today?" he asked. He didn't sound jealous, but there was definitely a wariness there. She supposed that was justified from the way she'd acted.

She wanted to go back to their marathon sex and forget all the day's revelations. But that wasn't how they'd build a marriage.

She sighed. "I found a note from Lucy in her locket. Told me to take Duke to the docks. When we got there we both remembered something."

"That Duke had Lucy's journal."

"Yeah. But also that Lucy had killed Simon – right in front of Duke."

His hand tightened on her ankle, his thumb gliding slowly across her skin. He hesitated, and she knew he was working out what to say. She fought the urge to look down, to stand up and pace, to run from him either physically or emotionally. She couldn't do that anymore. Not if she was going to promise to be his.

So she held his gaze, and she waited.

"Musta had a good reason." It was like she'd told him she'd forgotten to buy something at the store, not that she'd murdered their friend's father in front of him.

"He threatened to kill Duke to end his family's curse – but still, I didn't need to shoot to kill."

"You were protecting those you care about."

"You can say that. You're objective. But Duke – he wasn't even mad at me. He just told me not to worry about it. I don't get it. He was covered in his father blood." If she'd told Nathan about this six hours ago she would have been hysterical. But it all seemed distant now. She was just puzzled.

"I remember Simon," he said haltingly, his hand creeping a bit higher up her leg. "He wasn't … nice. Wouldn't be surprised if him and Max had more in common than Duke and I would ever admit."

There was that squeezing of her heart again. She couldn't stand the thought that he'd ever been hurt that way, even if he couldn't remember. She wanted to kiss him, but he was too far away, so she pried his hand off her leg and raised it to her lips. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he continued.

"Even if he did mind, you forgive those you care about."

She thought she'd been fond of Vince Teagues, but her hatred of his actions hadn't gone away, even if she'd buried it deep under Nathan's attentions.

"I pointed a gun at Vince's head today. And I wanted to pull the trigger."

"What did he do?" Nathan asked sharply, sitting up straighter and pushing himself closer to her.

"You can't run out of here to go shoot him yourself," she warned, unwilling to let Vince of all people ruin their night. "As my future husband you are contractually obligated to stay in this bed with me all night long." She glared, deadly serious under the hyperbole.

She'd learned long ago that he got a rise out of her bossiness. "Don't remember signing that pre-nup," he answered, the set of his shoulders relaxing.

"My lawyer will get it to you in the morning," she said archly. If they had a quiet day perhaps she would draw one up. She could picture his face as she handed him a list of ridiculous demands. Surely he'd come up with a few pleasurable amendments.

"What did Vince do, Parker?" His fingers drumming on her leg pulled her from her reverie.

"He's the one who had Max kill James."

"What?" Nathan roared. When he started to rise she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

"We are not letting that meddling bastard ruin this night," she hissed. "You can give him hell in the morning."

She didn't want to be cross with Nathan, and she really didn't want him to leave. So she climbed into his lap and distracted him with a barrage of short kisses, pulling away and drawing him back to her again and again. His arms came around her automatically and she soothed the tension from his back till he rested his forehead against hers.

"Why did he do it?" he asked, resigned.

She loved being so close to him they could almost share breath. It healed the wounds of all the months they'd sat side by side and been miles apart. "He said Howard told him it was the only way to lure Lucy back. He knew that if James went into the Barn he'd be healed. And then –" She shook her head, feeling the incredulous truth of her next statement wash over her anew. "He said the only reason that I have this life – that I'm me – is because of the choice he made. And he's right, damn it. If Lucy had never come back I'd still be her, and we'd never have this." She nuzzled into Nathan's shoulder. "I can't wish this away, but I can't forgive him for what he did to our son."

"May be selfish, but I'm glad you don't feel the same way about Vince as Duke does about you."

"Stop," she warned, chuckling as she tried to stop any visuals from sinking in.

"James is okay. We're okay. We'll figure out a way to give the old geezer hell later."

"I really wanted to shoot him,"

"That's cause you're a mama bear."

She pulled back, but he didn't let go. "You did not just compare me to a large, lumbering wild animal."

To his credit, he didn't backpedal. But hearing how close he was to laugher only riled her up further. "It was a compliment."

"I don't care what Moose Hunter Magazine said—"

"You should. It's very educational for anyone living in the wilds of Maine."

Unable to come up with a suitable reply she kissed him soundly, her tongue demanding entrance as her hands clamped down on his shoulders.

"See. Fierce," he breathed into her neck afterwards, his lips lingering to suck gently there. His voice was still alight with humor, but she could hear the need crackling through. From her place on his lap she could feel it too. "My mama bear."

"I'll show you fierce," she countered, finding something equally as attractive in his possessiveness.

"Yes please."

With a flick of her wrist the empty pizza box went spiraling across the room. It didn't take long for their clothes to follow.

"Don't think I'm gonna make it til dawn," she mumbled into his shoulder a few hours later. Audrey Parker wasn't a quitter, but she was thoroughly spent. Considering the fast paced life they led, his goal had been a little overoptimistic.

When he could only muster the energy for a vague grunt instead of an actual response, she figured he wasn't too upset.

She snuggled toward him in search of a more comfortable position. "Should stay in tomorrow. I'll make it up to you when we wake up."

"Great plan," he slurred before dropping a sloppy kiss to her forehead. His breathing evened seconds later but his arms pulled her toward him as if it was instinctual.

There was one more thing she needed him to know, even if he wouldn't remember this moment. "I really do want to marry you, love," she swore, the endearment falling from her lips without conscious thought, exhaustion stripping away all her filters. She'd never use it in front of another living soul – perhaps never in the light of day – but in this moment it felt right.

He cracked one eye open and she half expected him to comment on the nickname. But he just smiled at her.

"Likewise, Parker."

I am so incredibly sorry this took so long! Life's been busy, and the devastating finale threw me off a bit. My muse got distracted by a potential season four fix-it – one quite a bit less epic than this season three fix-it – but I'm forcing myself to finish this first. The end is finally in sight, but don't worry – there's still quite a bit to come.

Hope the extra-long chapter with fluff and answers made up for the wait.

I realize the solution being them getting married might be a bit clichéd – but I just can't help it. Since the canon writers are so determined to be so extraordinarily mean to these two, I need to give them some happiness.

Also – those rings! Still no canon explanation, but Nathan's wearing the ring he took from his father in the "Sarah" flashback in "Thanks For The Memories" – though not in "Crush," interestingly. This has to be important somehow! Though obviously I missed the mark with Audrey's backstory – ALAS!

How are you all coping with this post-finale wasteland?