DISCLAIMER DE EPILOGUE: Well, you've made it to the final chapter, the zenith, the pinnacle, the Mount Doom if you will. What a long, strange trip it's been, huh? I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Special thanks to JessicaDwyer and MizSlick for their continued encouragement, with "encouragement" being a nice way of saying "incessant prodding." I feel an odd mix of relief and sadness that this story is over. But then again, is any story ever really over? Well, yeah, this one is. Because I need to catch up on some sleep, y'all.

For more Shaun of the Dead fun, I greatly encourage you to join the team at ShaunSquad dot com. Or to discuss all things Simon Pegg, feel free to join us on the Pegged Message Board at Ezboard dot com or on Peggster dot net, courtesy of webmistress Harmony. And for you Nick "Ed" Frost fans, Thomas has put together a great website called Frostitution dot net. It's even better than spending a Sunday morning doing Eskimo rolls with the Rough Ramblers.

Now then, everybody to the Winchester! The first round's on me…

Shaun was eternally grateful that Grayson hadn't freaked out about the bloody remnants of Professor Ryland that were strewn about his Range Rover. Unlike Shaun who had let out a loud, girlish scream at the gruesome sight, Grayson merely shrugged and said, "Eh, it's a rental." He said he'd leave the car at the airport before his flight to Finland and let the metropolitan police sort it out.

That night after Grayson had dropped them off and he'd returned Ed safely to the shed, Shaun tried to call Sara but there was no answer on her mobile phone. He figured she was getting some well-deserved rest. Later the next day, he decided to go round her flat but there was no answer at the door. As he was walking down the stairs, he ran into Slick in the hallway retrieving her mail.

"Shaun, nice to see you again!" she greeted.

"Um, hi…" he replied, trying to recall her name.

"Slick," she reminded with a smile.

"Yes, Slick. Have you seen Sara?"

"Oh, she's moved out. Didn't she tell you?"

"Moved out!"

"Well, more like she was kicked out for lack of payment. She left earlier this morning."

"Did she leave a forwarding address or anything?"

"Not that I know of."

"Right. Well, thanks, Slick."

"Don't mention it. Oh, and Shaun, don't be a stranger."

"Yeah, sure." He walked out the front door of the building and stood on the steps in a daze. The world was still there, contrary to what they had feared last night, but it was now spinning. She just left? No word, no warning, not even a message on his machine. He ran his hands through his ginger hair in uncertainty. Then resignedly, he made his way home.

Later as he stood in the kitchen preparing a cup of tea, there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, he found Sara standing on the front step carrying a backpack and holding a box. "Hey," she said hesitantly.

"Hi," he replied.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, yeah."

"I can't stay long," she offered, stepping uncertainly into the hallway. "Actually, I just came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" he sputtered in disbelief. "Why goodbye? I thought there was still work to be done. I thought…" Suddenly, a scene from Bram Stoker's Dracula came into his head. Sara was draped across a luxurious four-poster bed in a luxurious gown. Wearing a luxurious Victorian suit and tophat, he rushed to her side and took her hands as she pleaded breathlessly, "Shaun, take me away from all this death."

He shook his head and returned to the present. "I don't know what I thought."

"I don't know what I thought, either," she sighed. Suddenly, a scene from Army of Darkness popped into her head. Shaun, in the role of Ash, had just blown a zombie away with his shotgun. She ran to his side and as they stood in the debris-strewn aisle of the S-Mart, he took her into his embrace and dipped her. Temptingly, he said in a low voice, "Gimme some sugar, baby."

She shook her head and returned to the present. "I have to leave for Hungary tonight, to deal with some uppity werewolves," she explained. She walked into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, placing the box on the table and her backpack on the floor. "I wasn't sure how to tell you. I've just been wandering the streets for hours searching for the perfect cliché or uplifting platitude or maybe a rare demo tape of the Pet Shop Boys when they were still named West End."

"Any luck?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

"No, but I did find some really cute hats in a shop on Regent Street," she said excitedly. "Anyway, I finally realized there was nothing that I could do or say to change the situation. I'm a slayer. Where trouble goes, I have to follow. Even if it takes me away from you."

She turned away, not wanting him to see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "I really didn't think it was going to be this difficult to leave. I had this crazy, wacky idea that I could kill the monster and get the guy this time. So much for a happy ending, huh?"

"Well," he said, taking her hand and interlacing his fingers in it, "someone once said happy endings are a myth designed to make us feel better about the fact that life is a thankless struggle."

"Sophocles?"

"No, some guy on telly," he answered with a comforting smile.

They both leaned back against the couch, and she placed her head on his shoulder. It seemed like the first moment they'd had in weeks to breathe, to think, to feel, to just be.

"Just for the record," she said, "I would probably consider leaving the Council. If you asked me to."

"But I would probably never ask you to."

"I know. But sometimes I wish you weren't such a good guy."

He laughed slightly. "So…what am I supposed to do now?" he inquired.

"Besides sell appliances?"

"Yes, smartass, besides that."

"I don't know. Write a book, take cooking classes, travel, live your life. Do all the things that I can't. Then you can call me to gloat about it insufferably."

"Anything else?"

"Look after the place while I'm gone?"

"I'll do my best. Can't guarantee I won't completely bollix things up and wind up dead. Or worse."

"Now that would be a shame. There's a shortage of perfect DJs in this world, it would be a shame to lose one." She smiled up at him, and he kissed her forehead.

In the ensuing silence, she heard music from the stereo and recognized the familiar notes of Jeff Buckley's heartbreaking ballad, "Lover, You Should Have Come Over."

"You're listening to Buckley," she surmised with a smug grin.

"Yeah, well, I'm willing to admit that you were right about some things."

"That is very kind of you. Oh," she suddenly sat up and grabbed the box from the table. "I'm leaving these with you. For safekeeping." She handed him the box. Opening the flaps, Shaun found her prized collection of Star Wars action figures.

He looked at her in awe and shook his head emphatically. "No, I can't take these."

"Yes, you can. I know you'll take good care of them."

He set the box delicately back down on the table, trying to think of something else to say. "Do you have time for a cup of tea before you go?"

"No, my taxi's waiting. I should really be getting to the airport." She stood, grabbed her bag and started for the door as Shaun followed her.

"So you think I should stick around here and play the hero?" he asked sarcastically.

"You're not playing a hero, Shaun," she countered. "You are one." She kissed his cheek and threw her arms around his neck. They held each other tightly for a few moments, Sara trying to memorize every detail of this moment as Shaun tried to do the same. Then she reluctantly pulled away. "Take care of yourself, Shaun."

"Yeah, you too."

She said another quick goodbye and opened the door.

"Wait!" he blurted.

"What?" She paused in the doorway and turned to him.

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"The one that I asked you the other night, before the rave."

"Oh, that." She smiled at the memory and felt herself blushing. "Y'know, I've been thinking, and I did come up with an answer."

"Which is?"

She approached him, cradled his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "If I come back, we'll pick up this conversation where we left off."

"You really must come back," he said softly, touching his forehead to hers. "You wouldn't want my life to get boring, would you?"

"Oh, don't quote Star Wars at me. You know it makes me go all gooey."

"I do now," he remarked, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll see you later," she said, kissing him one last time.

"I'll hold you to that." He watched her pass through the gate and get into a waiting cab. As it pulled away, she rolled the window down and waved enthusiastically. He waved back. Then after the cab had driven out of sight, he shut the door.

He opened the lid of the box and pulled out the Han and Leia figures. He held them up to face each other. With Shaun's voice, the figure of Leia said, "I love you," while the figure of Han said, "I know."

THE END