I wanted to start off by saying that today is a very special day in Rant's world. Today is the two year anniversary of the posting of the very first chapter of Only Scarlet Avenges Sable. To this day, it is still my favorite story that I've written (although this is up there!) Happy Birthday OSAS.

(PS. I found under the properties on OSAS that I originally opened the document at...wait for it... 9.06. HOW PERFECT IS THAT? {And yes. I do have proof :)})

Epilogue: Tomorrow Never Knows

18 years later

2002

The two teenagers ran out of the Tate Modern, laughing at each other, both happy to be out in open air. No one would guess them as brother and sister, much less twins. The boy was handsome, with dark hair and hazel eyes that changed colour depending on what he wore. The girl was fair haired, and her eyes were a silvery blue, and had had boys flocking to her since a very young age. The boy pulled out a CD player, looking at it angrily before beginning to yell at his sister, asking where she had put his headphones.

Alex laughed as she watched the two of them. They were both so full of life, and though she had had one child snatched away from her, she was hanging on to these two for as long as she could. Someone put their hand in hers and she smiled, feeling the rough warmth.

"I know you like them, but we've done our quota on art museums for the year, Bolly. No more."

Alex looked up at Gene plaintively. "One more? Please?" She batted her eyelids. Gene just glared at her.

"That doesn't work on me," he said, growling as he spoke.

Alex smirked. "It did last night."

"That was different," Gene said, sniffing and holding his head high. "Besides, I think the kids are bored. Watch."

"Mark! Lily! Your Mum wants to go to another museum!"

The two groaned. "Mum, really?" Mark asked. "We haven't even eaten lunch yet and it's gone one!"

"Oh like that's a big deal," Lily said sarcastically. "You were the one who ate a whole full English and then what Mum and I couldn't finish between us."

"He's a growing lad," Gene said to her. "Gonna be a strapping man like me!"

Lily poked her father's stomach. "I don't know how much of that is 'strapping,' Dad."

"In my youth," Gene muttered.

"Besides," Mark said. "Aren't we a little old for the whole 'family outing' thing?" he asked, putting the words family outing in air-quotes.

Alex grabbed Mark around the shoulders and pulled him into her, squeezing him tightly.

"Gerroff me Mum!" he said, his voice muffled, but she didn't let go.

"You are never too old for a family outing, sweetie, darling, duckie, my grumpy little peanut." She kissed the top of his head, making a loud MWAH as she did so before she released him. Mark pulled away from her quickly, glaring.

"That was cruel, Mum."

Alex grinned. "But it answered your question, didn't it? C'mon. Let's go find somewhere to eat."

Mark and Lily walked ahead of them, Mark still looking disgruntled, and Lily teasing her brother.

"That was extremely cruel, Alex," Gene said, grinning.

"I know," she said. "But I couldn't help it."

She stopped a moment, staring at the life-saving ring on the rail across from the Tate Modern. There was a flash, a memory, feeling like it was from a previous life. So much had happened since she last stood on the South Bank outside the Tate Modern. She had become so involved with Gene's world, she had nearly forgotten where she really came from, but she knew it didn't matter anymore. Molly would be safe with Evan.

She had come to terms with this after several sessions with a psychologist that Gene had insisted she saw. He had told her that she still needed to talk it out, and he knew that he wasn't the best person to talk about it with. She still hadn't admitted it to him, but Gene had been right. It had taken several sessions, but Alex had finally opened up, and after she opened up to the psychologist, her relationship with Gene had gone to another level.

It was soon after her birthday in 1986 she had learned that she was pregnant, and a few months later when they realised that she was not only nourishing one baby, but two. Luckily, everything had gone as planned in the pregnancy, and she was almost at term when she went into labour.

Alex looked at the window of the shop they were passing. The name was declared in bold letters on the window. "Newton's," it blared at her. The shop was artsy in nature, small trinkets scattered on shelves within and the sides of the building hung with numerous paintings. Her mind flashed to eighteen years previously when the most important things in her life were painting, Mark and Gene, although not necessarily in that order.

Alex didn't often think about the months that she had been held hostage, but when she did, it ended up as a painting sold to the same man who had been selling her paintings since 1983.

She had clung on to Mark's paintings at first, but as the years passed, she started to pick through them, making good on his wish for her to sell them if she wanted. They still owned a few, hung in different places around the house.

"You okay?" Gene asked, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her back to reality.

She nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"Well stop, Alex. I need to have a nice relaxing day and I can't do that when you start to think."

She smiled at him, looking at the shop, where a grey-haired man that she assumed was the owner was hanging a painting halfway up the wall. Gene pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"We can stop there after we eat, okay?"

She nodded and turned right as the grey haired man looked at her. For a split second, she was certain it was Mark, but admonished herself for the thought. He had died eighteen years earlier. She wouldn't be seeing him now.

Alex shook her head and continued walking, following the children into a pub. They sat down at a table, looking through the menu. Everyone was concentrating too hard on what to eat to speak.

Suddenly, one of the workers set a beer down in front of Gene. He frowned.

"I didn't order this," Gene said.

"Someone else did," said the man. "Don't worry. It's already paid for. The owner of Newton's said he owed you it from years back." The man smiled and walked away, leaving Gene looking confused.

"Do you have any idea who the owner of Newton's is?" she asked him.

"No, but I suppose we really do have to go over there. He even got me the right beer. Good taste, that man."

Alex frowned into her menu. "Why does Newton seem like such a familiar surname?" she asked Gene.

"Mum, relax," Lily said levelly. "You'll think of it if you stop thinking about it."

"You're right," Alex said, trying to focus on her family.

However, even when they were leaving the pub a raucous hour later, she still hadn't placed the name. As promised, they went to the store. A handsome young man looked up from behind the till. His eyes passed over the family, stopping on Alex, his face freezing in shock.

"It's...it's you."

Alex frowned. "What?"

"You're her," he said. Mark snorted, turning to his sister, pulling her along to look at paintings.

"Are you the owner?" Alex asked.

The man shook his head, his face still amazed. "No. Arthur had to leave. But he told me that you'd be in. I didn't believe him, but here you are."

"The owner is Arthur Newton?" she asked. The man nodded and Gene made a strangled sound.

"He told me I had to give you something," the man said anxiously, disappearing into the back.

"Bolly," Gene murmured. "Arthur Newton...That was the name Mark used around..."

"Around CID," she whispered. "But it can't be. We went to his funeral."

The man came back to the front, a canvas held in front of him. He turned it around to show Alex and she gasped. It was a painting of her and Gene, dressed as though they were in the mid-eighties. They were both laughing, looking at each other with mutual love in their eyes. Their hands were linked, and they were standing in front of the Serpentine Gallery.

"There's a letter too," the man said, handing her an envelope with her name written on it. The handwriting was extremely familiar. She pulled out the paper inside, which was yellowed with time.

21/10/1985

Alex,

Earlier today, I finished the painting of you and Gene. I don't know if you'll ever see it, but I know I can't ever sell it. It has to go to you. I saw you in Hyde Park, about a month ago with him. I wanted to say hello, but it would have seemed odd. Especially since I died over a year and a half ago. Besides, you looked so happy with Gene that I couldn't disturb you. I hope you like your painting. It's my gift for you both.

A second, newer sheet of paper was below the old one. It was dated for that day.

6/7/2002

You just passed by my shop window, and I have a feeling you'll be in. You're too curious to stay away. I hope this means you'll get the painting, especially as I found one that you dedicated to me. It's hanging in my flat. You still look great, by the way.

Give Gene my best, and tell him that I hope he enjoyed his beer.

ME

Alex handed Gene the paper and he looked at it, seeming unsure whether to be furious or to laugh out loud. Alex quite understood, she felt the exact same way.

"Him," Gene growled finally as a taxi beeped its horn outside. "Clever bastard. Damn Spooks."

Alex smiled at him and looked up, out the window, where a man with grey hair smiled and winked as he clambered into a taxi.

"You gonna try and find him again?" Gene asked, watching as the taxi drove away.

Alex shook her head. "He'll find us again if he wants to."

Gene pushed his lips up into a pout and nodded. "Good. I'm too old to chase you around London again," he said teasingly.

"I'll make you chase me wherever I want you to chase me," Alex said back, her eyes locked into Gene's, everything else forgotten.

"I'm sure you would," Gene replied quietly, his face growing closer to hers.

"We're in public," their son yelled loudly, his sister's face looking just as disgusted as his. "I mean seriously, the innuendos are bad enough at home, but now you have to go into public and snog each other?"

Gene and Alex looked at him before laughing.

"Right then," Gene said, putting the letter in his pocket and leaving her to carry the canvas. "Shall we crack on?"

"I'll be right there," she said, turning to the man. "Do you have a pen and paper?"

The man nodded, giving them to her.

You may be dead, but you're still certainly welcome at our dinner table. I'm not leaving you the address though. You may not be James Bond anymore, but you've still got his talents. I'll see you Sunday at six. You better be there, as you've got a lot of explaining to do.

And don't worry about Gene. I'll keep him in check.

Alex

She folded the paper, putting it in the aged envelope, sealing it shut with tape and writing ME on the envelope. She smiled at the man, handing him the envelope and walking out of the shop to join her family. Gene looked at her questioningly. She merely smiled at him, raising her eyebrows.

She wasn't going to tell him, and just let him have fun that afternoon. God knew that he wouldn't be happy come Sunday at six.

Rant

(Seriously..906. Who'd a thunk?)

Also, I'm thinking of doing a little... exposé on what really happened to Mark... And maybe some of Sunday at six ;) I'm doing a blind poll on my page, so if you want it, let me know. If you don't, let me know :) Or just leave me a review.

Also, I apologize for 'who'd a thunk'. It's terrible grammar and probably horribly American, but seriously. WHO'D A THUNK?

And thank you guys for all your reviews on this! I don't know when or if I'll write Ashes again. I angsted everywhere on Thursday last, but I didn't get the words out right so the piece is probably going into the trash cos like Alex, I don't think it can be saved. (Ooh... too soon?)

Anyway. Remember to vote/review!