Okay, this is it. Wow, I have never, ever felt so insecure about a fic in my life. But I'm glad it's over, though it may feel a bit abrupt. Maybe it doesn't though. Who knows?

Chapter Fifteen: Happiness

He breathed in the fresh air, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. A hand slid into his and he savored the texture of a delicate, tender grasp.

Keeping his eyes closed, he smiled. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"You're not as mysterious as you like to believe," came her teasing voice.

And it was something small—maybe insignificant—but he felt a shift at that moment, as if he had come together. Whole.

"Hmm," he hummed, finally opening his eyes. He wanted to see her face. Couldn't see it enough to make up for those long weeks of thinking her dead.

He felt proud at seeing the happy twinkle in her eyes, the playful tilt to her lovely mouth.

She raised a brow, a bit of suspicion creeping in. "I know that self-satisfied look. What did you do?"

He laughed. Things had changed so much in the last year, but somehow they hadn't changed at all. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

She groaned as he stepped back and started walking, pulling her along by her hand. "Patrick…"

He thrilled inside at the sound of his name on her tongue. It would never get old.

"Teresa…" he dragged her name out, mimicking her tone, rolling the s exotically. He grinned back at her cheekily and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine, keep your secrets. I know how you like to think you're unpredictable," she huffed, feigning annoyance.

He thought of the small, simple band warming his vest pocket. Thought of all the ways to convince her to say yes.

Thought about manipulating her into being the one who would have to convince him.

Yes, he just might keep some secrets.

He glanced up at the sun. The bright orb seemed so perfect. Bright.

He squinted a bit, then blinked. For a moment, his vision was full of white and a crystal ball wavered into focus.

A pull on his hand brought him back to the present.

Warmth. Happiness. Teresa.

He didn't need a crystal ball to save him, tell him what he wanted to hear. Didn't need to understand why others yearned for the magic, the oblivion of things like crystal balls. Tooth fairies, Santa Clause, witches, psychics, God…

All he needed was Teresa Lisbon.

His hand tightened.

And he had her.