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Nothing Gained
epilogue
by Spirit
Email : naughtyspirit@cableinet.co.uk
Rating : NC17
Summary : Epilogue to Nothing Gained - set after Epiphany - was owed some
serious fluff.
Spoilers: Epiphany and Dead End
Disclaimer : Oh please, if he was mine, you wouldn't find me writing.
Although I'm pretty sure Joss doesn't have those kinds of designs on the
man.
Notes : Lar, sweetie - making Lindsey behave well is almost as much fun as
making him behave badly. More even. Thanks as always for the walkthrough and
the much needed dialogue help. And the beta - I owe you big time. And to the
very nice people, who read and feedbacked from hotmail and to whom I tried
to reply and got mail bounce - thank you. Much appreciated.
Oh and Kass - I told you not to read this. Don't shout too loud at me for
the fluff overdose.
~~~
The closet door seems to bang shut, closing with a finality that really
doesn't feel surprising, despite the hurt behind it. She's gone, she's
really gone now, not death, nor anything that happened after can change that
now. She took Angel's faith and screwed with it until there was nothing else
to do but leave, shot of both indifference and the man who loved her in one
move. Lindsey turns away from the wood and looks at the sofa. Look, there's
where she sat and told him, the windows - he closed them every time, the
bed - never even got close. He wants to throw things, be overcome,
distraught and just can't work up the energy.
When he hears the knock at the door, he toys briefly with the notion that
she's back, before putting that thought swiftly to rest. He could ignore it,
go to bed and sleep until this is all over and the bruises on the inside are
as dulled as those on his skin. Or he could just fling the door back and
show whoever it is that he's done with battering for now, scare some
preacher into leaving - this lawyer is over and done with. He peels off the
shirt, leaves the dangling remnants of his hand on show, ready to wave in
whoever's face, ready to call them out and take this to whatever level he
has left. Hit a cripple? Fine, let's just go - see if you'll finish the job
Angel wouldn't.
He opens the door as she moves to knock again. Two years and several brief
conversations and she looks older, much older and he can still see the faint
boredom of the woman he once spent the night with. He blinks, looks again
and sees that it's not age but pain on those cheeks, tired face here,
remembers the last time she looked that way and tells himself that guilt,
that self accusation period is over. For all that she's at his door, she
gasps in surprise, fingers stretching to his cheek before he can open his
mouth, warm flesh against hot, hurt skin, and Lindsey doesn't want to feel
anything right now. Not this, and not her.
"Great, now this is perfect. Go ahead, throw a punch, I swear I've got a rib
here that's not cracked."
She winces and her hand falls away, snatched back against her body as she
pulls back into the present. His face tingles where she touched it and
Lindsey doesn't want to ask if that's all a part of his evening - if all his
torments have come in one go.
"What are you doing here, Kate?"
"Angel saved me."
"And you felt you had to come over here and share? Really, Kate, I thought
you could do your hurting on your own terms."
She swallows hard and he moves to shut the door, slowly, because there has
to be a reason here and despite the fatigue, the knowing has to come first.
When she reaches to stop him, he raises the mangled remains, waits for her
to flinch when he presses it against her chest. She doesn't even move.
"I wanted to talk to you."
He taps the stump again, gestures as though she's not getting it - he's not
a whole man anymore. He's gross, he's the enemy, he's damn tired now and
wants this done. It's almost annoying when she ignores it.
"Because there are things I have to...wanted to say."
"So say 'em."
"I can't," she hesitates and lays her hand across his, lowering it to point
into his apartment. "Can I come inside?"
He wants to say no, feels how it would be to smash her hand away and be the
leaver, not the left, tries on rejection as the protagonist and finds that
he just doesn't fit there. Somehow, he can't shake the notion that he owns
this, has owned this for two years and it's all come back to him now - words
in eternity.
"Please?"
Another door closes down the hallway and Lindsey steps back, close contact
as she passes him in the doorway. He breathes in too quickly and the pain's
sharp in his nose, her smell, tainted by vampires now - demons they shouldn'
t have to know about existing and putting their stink on hearts, souls and
bodies. They shouldn't have touched her, not now, not ever - he didn't want
that, didn't want her in on the ground floor - basement levels definitely
off-bounds to her, that was the way it was supposed to play out. But then
that's all dead now and he follows her inside, waits to hear whatever death
didn't manage to offer.
She stands in the middle of the room, arms wrapped round her body against a
phantom cold. It seems appropriate somehow, that all confessions take place
here - Darla's echo still hovers in this room, payment in kind for a service
she never rendered to him. All these blondes and he can't touch them, can't
even hold them properly. They all turn to another man, another face before
him and he's sick of knowing that. But this one he lost all by himself -
corporate property denied. He waits this time, waits to hear her talk
because he doesn't trust his mouth, can still feel the way it did then,
knows that he'd beg if she needed it.
"So talk."
"Okay."
She looks around her as though trying to make her mind up that this is it,
this is the place and he feels an uncanny need to step in front of the door.
It surprises him when she speaks again and it takes him a moment to register
what she's saying.
"I used to think that there was only two places to be."
"In front or behind the witness stand?"
"Good or bad. I mean, that's what I do...did, right? I was the good guy, I
save the day."
"Sure, you come in with your big shiny gun and your big shiny badge and it's
all 'I am the law'."
She frowns at him and he wonders whether his mouth has its own agenda.
"You're not making this easy."
"Oh I'm sorry, Kate. Was it supposed to be?"
There's supposed to be some pleasure when she shakes her head, there's
supposed to be some satisfaction, isn't there? Not pity, not longing. Not
need.
"There's all this evil, this real evil in the world and I can't do anything
about it. And it's not supposed to be this way."
"You're telling me this, why?"
"I'm trying to explain."
He gestures to the door.
"You're not telling me anything I haven't heard before in a hundred
different ways. You think telling me makes everything okay?"
"No. Look, I'm not good at expressing myself."
"Oh I think you did pretty damn well."
Great going Lindsey, he thinks, you made her cry. Doesn't that just make you
more of a man - you're justifying her - keep going, it's working well.
"Lindsey, I just..." she takes a deep breath and meets his eyes, "I didn't
always get it, then. I mean, you were there, and you put me right at the top
of this list you had and...you were bad. You did bad things."
"So I'm evil and considerate? Thanks for clearing that up for me."
She flashes a hurt glance at him and he winces, doesn't want to wound, doesn
't want to keep it clean.
"But you made me feel...special? And there was this baby and you were
so...you were all over this baby and it felt like you didn't see me any
more."
"That's not true, you know that."
"I'm not saying it was true," she wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand.
"I'm telling you what it felt like. I was scared you were going to forget
about me, shut me out."
"I told you it wasn't going to be like that. Did you really think I was that
big a shit?"
"No, but I..."
"I'm not your father, Kate. Never was."
He sees that one go deep, sees the fresh well of tears and bites down on the
urge to comfort. She doesn't need that. He doesn't need that.
"I know that. I know you wouldn't have done that. And that the whole
thing...it was just a case."
She breathes deeply, tries to get some control back, but those tears run
freely and she's just standing here now, middle of his room and this sounds
like an apology. Sorry I walked away, Lindsey. Sorry I didn't believe you,
Lindsey. Sorry I stood there and took a bullet and lost our baby because you
worked hard to set a bastard free, Lindsey. Sorry I left us both alone in
the dark.
"I know you...didn't..." she gasps and tries to reign it back in. "Didn't do
that, and I was wrong."
"You were wrong?"
She nods and looks down at her fingers, as though willing them to provide
the answers.
"I was wrong, and I'm sorry and I wish I could...take it back and I can't,"
brushes her hair back from her face, "and I'm sorry I laid it all on you."
Her shoulders heave with the effort of not crying and it hurts somewhere
that his bruises don't. Lindsey steps forward without thinking too much -
doesn't trust his head right now - stops before he reaches her, hand
hovering somewhere near her waist. It actually aches - but he can't step
forward into that, into being rejected again, right now. He's had his fill
of that medicine this evening. And when she clings to him, arms wrapping
tightly round his neck, real pain when she leans against his chest, Lindsey
feels his breath come back in a rush. Stands still, smell and warmth and
body against him, filling his senses as she sobs. Wet on his chest, through
the cotton, and when he raises his hand to her hair, strokes its still soft
texture, he wonders why this feels like home now, why he's accepting comfort
in the arms of an enemy.
She whispers apologies against his skin, and the fear is back, the anger
holds. Why the fuck did she want this now? Why, when he's too old and dirty
and undone does she have to come and be so...Kate, when he's lost
everything? Warm wet tears on his neck now, stinging the places Angel opened
up, tears in his skin, in his soul and he pulls her closer, quiets her mouth
as she repeats it over and over. Whispers that she wasn't wrong and that it'
s all over, all in the past and she doesn't have to worry about that
anymore. Maybe they can do this clean, walk away and leave that blame in the
ago where it belongs - wave when they see one another, cleanse this hate,
this self-loathing and he wishes that's all he wants - all he longs for.
It's several minutes before the tears stop and she disentangles herself,
steps back with an embarrassed look and he's sorry now. Sorry that he wanted
it to go on and sorry that it's over. He watches as she wipes her face
clean, tear streaks still apparent and he wants to kiss them away, watch her
become happy because of him - do this and see something other than pity on
her face. Gratitude, perhaps? A reason why she still haunts his dreams and
he saw her ghost in someone - something else. But she stares at the floor
and he knows she's going to say she's leaving - doesn't want to hear that
yet. Ever.
"You want a drink? I could use a drink."
She assents and sits on the sofa as he grabs a bottle, keeps the glasses
next to his body and it's not until he kneels in front of her that the
difference comes back. Grapples with the neck until it's clear he can't do
this with one hand and the frustration starts to rise again - fucking Angel
fucking things up again and no hand here, still has to rely on appliances
and she covers his hand with hers, closes it round the neck and reaches for
the glasses. Lindsey unscrews the cap and offers her a brief smile,
registers her confusion and realizes that this isn't an issue here - it's
all practicality and she doesn't see the problem. No handy jokes coming from
Kate - she's not built like that. She settles the glass in her hand and
clinks it against his own.
"To a life where I'm not a cop."
He snorts and drinks, pressing it back against hers.
"To not sticking my hand out at the wrong time."
"To...er...not turning into the office freak."
"To not being vampire bait every week."
She grins and he likes it, remembers when it happened most of the time and
that seems like an age away.
"To understanding which evil things are evil things."
"That's pretty good."
"Well it's not like it's my job anymore. Not that it was, but...to not
having to know the difference."
Another clink and he figures, go with it - nothing to lose here. Nothing yet
to gain.
"To telling my girlfriend I love her when I have the chance."
She laughs hard, pulls it short as she notices he's not and swallows. That
went well, he thinks, that's just about the reaction I expected. Made her
all uncomfortable and I have a big mouth and see, let's just finish this
drink off and refill it.
He sets the empty glass down on the table, catches the way she swallows
hers, fills it up and swallows again.
"Let me just get the remote. We can see what's on."
He switches the TV on, settles back on the sofa and watches, flicking from
channel to channel as she stares at her watch. Sees her drink another glass
and there's still nothing on - end of the bottle and she's just seconds away
from saying, 'Nice coming here and getting it all out, making me feel
better. Let's not do it again'. Clicks the TV to standby and gestures to her
now empty glass.
"Why don't you stay here tonight?"
"Lindsey, I can't..."
"Look, it's late. Take the bed. I'll sleep here on the couch."
She shakes her head.
"You need the rest, Lindsey. You look like hell."
"Thanks, I needed that."
She smiles and touches his eye gently.
"I don't want to put you out."
"You're not. Look, I'll take a shower and sleep - you've had a lot to drink
and I'm not up to doing anything to bother you. Just take the bed."
He hears the pleading in his voice, bites down on it and when she smiles,
Lindsey feels the knot in his belly lessen.
"I won't kick you out of your bed, though. You need it more than me."
He wishes he could tell her not to do that - that he doesn't want her
sleeping where Darla did, doesn't want her to share filth with that one. But
she's here, she's staying and if he has to settle, Lindsey can do this.
Walks into the bathroom and shuts the door, turns on the shower before the
notion that she's going to leave strikes home again. There's no way he
should be this paranoid, or possessive, he knows that and hates it and opens
the door again anyway, catches her looking at old photographs and touching
her face on a still clear five by four that he hasn't been able to throw
away. She looks up and gives him that odd fey smile he remembers when he'd
done something she wasn't sure about, registers he's behaving like an
asshole and closes the door again. Manages to have a quick shower and avoids
most of the bruising, skin tightens when he hits a tender spot - catches his
reflection and realizes that there's no way he's going to look like Brad
this year. He finds his pajama bottoms and pulls them on, harsh cut across
his chest visible, but he figures she's seen worse.
The cold harsh hurt that slashes through him when he sees the couch is empty
feels very old, somehow - like he's been here before, and he knows he has -
two women gone in one night, that has to be some cologne he's wearing. He
wants to check outside, knows it's pointless and heads into the bedroom.
Takes in the long legs over the cover, cotton socks and one of his old
T-shirts over a body he can remember blindfolded. She looks up at him and he
recognizes the nervousness - wonders how to settle it and at which point he
decided that he wanted to share his bed with her again.
"I think we can both use a little comfort tonight, right?"
"Right."
"I mean, just...lay down here with me. That's all. Just rest."
He walks round, slides under the sheets and settles back against the
pillows, very aware he has a side of the bed, now. Hears the soft whisper of
her breath as she leans back, head on a pillow she hasn't slept on. Lies
there stiffly, conscious that he wouldn't have to do much more than raise
his hand to touch her, worried that to do that would send her screaming into
the night.
"Where can I hold you that won't hurt?"
Turns to the side, registers half moons under her eyes and a faint whisper
of a smile cross her lips.
"Have a feel."
She grins then, quickly, before it fades all that flirtation goes out of the
window again. Fingers sneaking over his skin and Lindsey tries not to wince
but Angel did his job well, all beaten flesh and aching bones here. She
touches along his chest, pressing lightly across the tattered wound, warm
purples under her hand. It could be disappointment he can see, or just fear
of touching something as battered as he is and when she slides her fingers
to the end of his arm, Lindsey fights to keep still.
"Does this still hurt?"
"Always."
He sees the pain then and wonders why, tries to get his head round anything
but having her close and still out of reach. Hands over his body again and
she brings her fingers away with a frustrated gesture and Lindsey wonders if
this was something genuine, not payment here, but honest longing for company
and warmth.
"It's pretty much all painful, darlin'. Don't worry about it."
"I'm not...I wanted to hold you."
He smiles and rolls to his side - not too uncomfortable - not worse than
anywhere else.
"Why don't you let me take care of that?"
Lifts his arm and she doesn't hesitate for longer than a second before
sliding up against him, back against his chest, snug and it's all so old
now. He rests his hand under her arm, settles for a safe middle space under
her ribs and for the first time since he lost it, Lindsey's glad it was his
right hand that was taken - that this can still be a familiar place. Bends
to kiss her neck, lost in sometime else and he stops abruptly, recalls where
he is and settles for whispering 'goodnight' - soft whispers against her
skin. Settles back with his head on his arm, knows he should be able to
sleep now, that he's safe, but he can't do anything but watch her. She
trembles and he knows she's listening out for his own breathing to slow,
recognizes the irony of wanting and needing the comfort of giving peace, of
being unable to accept it. But it's been a tiring day and even want has to
be put aside now as his eyes close, drifts into unconsciousness with little
fight, feels her relax and the easy roll of her body against his.
Even so, he wakes frequently, settles back again when she's still there, low
murmur of breath accompanying his own. Wakes again, hand covering her
breast, thumb rubbing softly across her nipple and he tries to pull back -
doesn't want her to know and wake and leave and when she stills him, Lindsey
freezes. She shifts again, wriggling back against him and mumbling into the
pillow.
"Love you, Lin."
He hears it, swears that he'd hear it if he was deaf and feels his breathing
come in spurts. Harsh noise against her neck and she squeezes his hand,
still asleep, still comfortable and safe. Lindsey waits until she settles
again before he kisses her neck, one brief moment of perfect ease before he
rests again and sleep comes easy now. A whole night of peace and when he
wakes, the warm smell still against his face, he nuzzles into it, soft
kisses until he hears the little 'mmm' as she wakes. Keeps his lips against
her skin, touching gently until she rolls over to face him, still sleepy but
that smile is unmistakable and he kisses her without hesitation before she
can stop him. But there's no rejection here, warm lips against his own,
meeting and matching as easily as before and he finds her breast again,
feels the low moan and Lindsey's sure there's been nothing to match this
since she left.
Hands sliding over skin now, touching everywhere, all bruises, all old
wounds closing as the ache and need comes near. She rolls her hips against
him, thigh wrapped over his own and Lindsey slides his fingers down to the
elastic of her panties, smiles against her mouth when she wriggles. Up and
over one knee and he can feel the grin, can't bring himself to break this
kiss, this series of kisses to look. Finds his way with his fingertips,
shirt up to her neck and supple flesh against his own and he's certain that
this and only this is making love - all else is a shadow. She rests her
thigh high over his and when his fingers find her, wet now, Lindsey wonders
if you can freeze frame moments, keep them with you because nothing lasts
and he needs this now.
Rocks over as her fingers find the waistband of his pants, slides them down
and all he needs to do is ease forward, can't do it, has to hear her and he
pulls away from her mouth long enough to catch the matched desire on her
face.
"Kate, I don't want to stop but I don't have anything."
She traces his face with her hand, brings him back down to kiss and tells
him it's okay, that everything's okay and when she raises her hips, he doesn
't hesitate, slides up and in. Moans loudly against her mouth, feels that
this has got to be some kind of spell and rocks slowly inside her. It's like
being possessed, utterly, completely and he makes love to her tenderly, her
hands on his face, her legs wrapped round his own, lips open and brushing
his. It feels like seconds, it feels like forever and when he comes, deep
groan as he fills her body, he doesn't go away, doesn't lose contact this
time. Feels her hands in his hair and her deep breathy sigh of contentment.
She hushes him when he tries to move his hands to please her, holds him
close and it stings how deeply he's missed this.
He settles back on his elbows and brushes her hair back from her forehead,
tries to memorize her face now - wants to remember the peace.
"I love you."
She smiles again, still sleepy, still wrapped round him and he's pretty sure
that she won't say it back, that he can settle, that just saying it is
enough.
"I know, Lindsey, I love you too."
More kisses now, lips welcome and warm and he brushes her forehead again.
"You're going to leave, aren't you?"
"In a while."
In a short space of forever, they still, kisses still coming and affection
finally returned. When the alarm rings shrilly, he reluctantly slides off,
watches as she dresses and pulls his pants back up. Traces lines in his
memory and as the sun comes up, this is the way he wants to remember her -
glints of orange on her skin, fine waves of white in her hair.
"Am I going to see you again?"
"I'm not sure."
"Can I call you?"
She hesitates before pulling her boots back on and sighs.
"I'm not sure about that either."
Stands next to her, hands sliding down over still bare arms and he likes the
way she shivers.
"What are you sure about, Kate?"
Kate turns to him, traces his mouth with her finger before kissing him
lightly.
"I'm sure coming here last night was the right thing to do."
And when she leaves now, lets the sun in, Lindsey doesn't feel quite as
empty.
Decides he wasn't built to be alone.
~~~
Kate ties her hair back in a band, looks round the apartment and figures
that she needs to clean something. Registers the lack of dust mites and
opens the glass door in front of old trophies. Takes each piece out and
looks at it, remembers and puts it back clean, all old, all gone and she
doesn't have time for that in the midst of this vast nothing she's in. Looks
round again, finds her book and decides that she can fill this space with
something that requires her brain, that requires focusing and not wishing
she was in an elsewhere.
Because he's still out there somewhere, she knows where and Kate carries
round a vague worry that settling this, that knowing just less than perfect
is possible hurts worse than knowing it's over. But she has memories now,
clear and free from the past when he loved her and he loved her and she
actually let him. And that feels good, all warm and cozy and she has to read
this book now, has to concentrate. Looks over every page and flicks to the
next, no idea of the story because that isn't real and she could invent her
own little timeless solution if she wanted. Loud roar outside and she wishes
the windows were thicker here and that she didn't have to listen to everyone
else's misfortunate auto problems as well as their screams in the night.
Lindsey was right - she really should never have moved here. She should have
looked for somewhere she could actually call home and until now, she's not
spent enough time in the dull place to loathe it utterly. But that thought
leads to white picket fences and she's not sure she should be moping now -
she has a chance, a new start and she should use it to decide what the whole
thing should be about. Brought back by the dead in a luke-warm shower,
anything has to be better. And she's fairly sure it is better - there's no
panic when she wakes - a sense of loss, knowing there's still a missing
piece, knows what or rather who it is and can't have him back the way it
was. It should have been closure, should have been over and she determines
to make out at least one sentence on the page.
The knock at the door takes her by surprise and she wonders if this time
Angel's going to ask to come in, decides that the old policy should still
stand with him. They're not friends, but she can understand now - offer him
shades of peace. She takes in the leather jacket, the jeans and an easy grin
she thought she'd forgotten. Smiles at Lindsey and holds the door open.
"So I was just nowhere near your neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."
She nods and feels like her head's on a string. Stop nodding, act smart and
ask what he wants. What I want.
"Show me your new work suit and all?"
"Oh, work." He stares at his hand a moment before settling it against the
doorframe. "See, there's this thing where I quit."
"You quit? You left Wolfram and Hart?"
Her throat dries and look, there's that grin again.
"Yeah, got me a good severance package - new hand and I'm still alive."
"Oh that's pretty and new - matches up nice. They were out of gold watches?"
He flexes his fingers and shrugs.
"I think that's retirement. 'Sides the whole thing? Long story. You wanna go
for a ride?"
"Do I get to hear the long story?"
"If you want."
She hesitates, he's just there and she could touch and she wants to bite
down on her tongue. Wants to get rid of this big stupid goofy grin she knows
she's wearing.
"So where are we going?"
"Anywhere but here."
"I'll get my coat."
She walks back inside and picks up the suede, figures the world moved on and
didn't stop for coffee. And that's just fine by her.
"Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"You wanna pack a bag too?"
She turns, registers he's still not inside, catches the antsy get away vibes
he's giving off and looks him squarely in the face.
"Just the one?"
He looks confused and Kate gestures to the apartment.
"You gonna bring me back to pick up everything else?"
"You think you need it?"
"Well since you're all out of a job and I'm, heh, out of a job, I thought
that we could..."
He steps inside and looks round briefly as she trails off.
"You know what, Kate, let's just go. I'll give you everything you want."
"Oh I've heard that before."
That smile just won't go at all now and when he walks closer, she tries to
get her feet to move - go backwards, doesn't want to lose this longing so
quickly.
"Really?"
"Yeah, a time or two anyway."
"Any of it work out?"
She hits the sofa and he's just so close now, finally in reach.
"Well I'm still waiting to see what he means by that."
Hands come up to cover her face, warm breath behind them.
"Everything, Kate. I swear."
She parts her lips as he kisses her, strong now, all hesitancy gone because
this is so wanted now. Mouths open, tongues searching and she wraps her arms
round him, strong muscles beneath and his hands over her back. Both hands,
holding her tight and she can't breathe and doesn't care. Breaks it finally
to grab a few clothes from her bedroom, stuffs them into a tote bag and then
he's there again, all warmth and wet kisses and Kate thinks that finally,
this is where forever begins.
She locks the door behind her and follows him down to the truck. Picks up
the 'cops suck' sign as he tosses the bag into the back and shows it to him,
wondering who and why and not really caring too much. He frowns briefly
before opening her door.
"That mean that you won't now that you aren't?"
"Just drive, Lindsey."
He climbs in next to her, slides the key in and tilts a grin toward her.
"Is that a yes you will?"
"Just. Drive."
"Cause if it's a yes, we can always practice here before we go."
"Lindsey, drive the truck."
"Just to see if it still works and all."
"Do we have to trade seats here?"
She tries to fix him with a stern glare and comes up with
we-can-do-everything.
"Okay, okay, I'm driving."
He starts the engine and turns back to her.
"Kate?"
"Yeah?"
He kisses her again, can't get enough. Can never get enough.
"I'm thinking about stopping in Vegas. How do you feel about the whole Elvis
wedding chapel thing?"
"Just drive the car, boy."
He laughs and slides it into gear.
"Yes ma'am. Wanna tell me where we're going."
Kate looks into the dark and then back to him, nestling her head on his
shoulder and covering his hand.
"Anywhere but here sounds perfect."
She feels his arm drop round her shoulders, squeezing tight and she gets it
now. It's not about learning who you can live with - it's finding the one
you can't live without. Hears the crank as the truck pulls away and sees the
first hints of sunrise on the horizon. Whatever happens now, right or wrong,
she's in the right place, always one kiss from enough.
And home is wherever they make it.
~~~
End epilogue
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