Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Lara Croft or Sam Nishimura

Author's Note: The epilogue! It's short and cheesy but I think it just gives you confidence that your OTP is still sailing well! I have to give a huge amount of credit to Satellizer-Malitia for suggesting the theme of this epilogue because without her/him/*pronoun* it would have probably had no theme at all. Let me know how you found the whole story. As always, it's been a pleasure. Thanks guys!

One year later.

"Will you wake the fuck up?" Sam grunted, shoving Lara's shoulder that poked out from under the duvet. She shoved a little too hard, causing Lara to slip over the edge of the bed and onto the carpeted floor. Sam laughed.

"Ow…" Lara muttered groggily as she sat up. "What was that for?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "I've been trying to wake you up for a good five minutes now and nothing else seemed to be working. You gave me no choice."

Lara replicated the action. "Charming."

She pulled herself back onto the bed and sat cross-legged on top of the duvet, facing Sam. Sam was sat in the same position, smirking at Lara cheekily.

"Don't look at me like that. I think you're forgetting who I am," Lara teased.

"Oh don't give me the 'I'm Lara Croft and I can crush you with my little finger' bull. We all know full well that you'd fall apart if I just tickled your waist."

Lara scoffed. "Pft. I have a sensitive scar there."

"Sure. Excuses excuses," Sam muttered. "Hey what's that?"

Sam nodded her head to the wall behind Lara. As Lara turned her head to look, Sam grabbed at her waist and tickled her mercilessly. She didn't stop until the phone rang, even though Lara was practically begging to be released.

"Saved by the bell," Sam laughed as Lara shuffled to the other end of the bed to safety.

"Hello?" Sam said down the phone. "Oh hey… oh really? Yeah that would be great. No, it's completely fine… Okay I'll see you later then. Thanks, bye."

"Who was that?" Lara asked, trying to look angry still.

"Wedding dress store. The tailor has a free appointment this afternoon because her client got sick so they said I can come to get my dress fitted," Sam explained.

Lara's face lit up as she instantly forgot about the tickle fight. "Can I come?"

"Um, duh, of course you can't. You can't see my wedding dress before we're married. It's bad luck."

"Bad luck? That's very… traditional of you."

Sam smiled and grabbed Lara's hands, pulling them towards her. "Yeah well I want a traditional wedding."

Lara let herself be pulled onto Sam's lap. "Two women getting married, very traditional."

They both laughed before kissing.

"So can I come?" Lara asked when they pulled apart.

"No! I didn't come with you when you got yours fitted," Sam argued.

Lara groaned. "But I want to make sure you don't… I don't know… die or something."

"I'm not gonna die, I promise you. You know they've all been locked away."

Lara sighed. "Yeah I know. Okay."

"Breakfast. Come on," Sam murmured, kissing Lara's head and leading her downstairs.

The year that had passed had been rather uneventful, much to Lara's relief. Both Lara and her fiancée had seen therapists for a couple of months after the incident in the woods, but the therapist discharged them both after a short treatment process, deciding they were stable and managing extremely well, given their situation. According to the therapist, Lara and Sam looked after each other better than anyone could look after either of them and no coping strategy compared to their company for each other. Shortly after their treatment had finished, Lara proposed to Sam in a very unromantic- or romantic, depending on the way you look at it- manner. It was on an evening in autumn and as Sam played video games, Lara ate a poor American attempt at fish and chips and decided enough was enough.

"These chips are rubbish," Lara said. "Will you marry me?"

After deciding the wedding should take place in the summer, Lara and Sam seemed to do nothing but plan for it since then. Flowers, decorations, guests, accommodation- everything. It was a stressful process, but it definitely gave them both something to think about. More than anything, it showed their lives moving on.

Now, as they ate breakfast and Sam paced around waiting for her dress appointment, they were all too aware that the wedding was less than a fortnight away.

"Will you calm down," Lara sighed. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm just worried," Sam said. "I want this wedding to be perfect and if something goes wrong with the dress-"

"Get over yourself," Lara smiled, shaking her head. "It's going to be fine. Even if there is a problem with the dress, which there won't be, it doesn't matter, I promise. All that matters is that we're married okay?"

"Okay cheeseball," Sam sneered, straddling Lara on the sofa. "But like I said, I want it to be nice and traditional."

"And like I said, you can't be that bothered about tradition or last night wouldn't have happened," Lara smirked.

Sam blushed. "Well… traditional for these days, anyway."

They sat closely until it was time for Sam to leave. Lara stopped her at the door.

"Hey," she murmured.

Sam turned.

"I love you," Lara assured her.

"I love you too," Sam smiled. "I really do."