A/N: Last chapter.

It was two blissfully-courting weeks later at a small dinner party that Colonel Fitzwilliam announced his resignation from the army. Everyone gave him their congratulations for a successful career, and wishes for a successful future.

As everyone was leaving, Fitzwilliam approached Sam. "Miss Langford," he said quietly.

She smiled. "Mr. Fitzwilliam?" she asked, using his new civilian title.

"Will you do me the honor of a private interview tomorrow morning?" he asked.

She blushed, and her heart soared. "It would be my honor."

They locked eyes, and he bowed. "Thank you, Miss Langford."

"Good night," she said softly.

He said his goodbyes to his cousins, and left with the Matlock carriage.

Sam was still standing there, stunned and incredibly nervous.

"Sam?" Lizzy asked knowingly.

"Tomorrow morning," Sam replied, in a daze. "How am I supposed to sleep now!?"

Georgie laughed and tugged her up the stairs. "I'll entertain you," she suggested. "We can have a sleepover."

"Don't stay up too late," Lizzy cautioned. "You don't want to have dark circles for tomorrow."

Sam let out a moan. "I'm gonna look like a zombie!" she wailed as Georgie dragged her up the stairs.

"Ah, young love," Darcy said, smirking. He put an arm around Lizzy's waist. "Remember when we were that ridiculous?"

"Us, ridiculous?" Lizzy scoffed. "Not at all. Both of us were stoic and taciturn, unwilling to act unless it could be recorded for posterity."

He tugged her close and stole a kiss. "I'm afraid your memory is faulty, my dear."

"Is it?"

-P-

Somehow, Sam did manage to sleep, and woke up with a sense of anticipation. By the end of today, if all went well, she would be engaged to be married... how was this her life? Wait. How was this her life? She was from the future... how was she going to explain it to him? Would he still want her after she told him? She started to panic, but before she could work herself up too much Lizzy came to help her get dressed for the day.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Terribly," Sam admitted. "And, what am I going to do about, you know?" She gestured to the clock meaningfully. "When I'm from? Being a houseguest is one thing, but actually marrying someone from a different time? What if there's rules about it? What if he doesn't believe me? What if-"

Lizzy patted her hand. "The Colonel is a reasonable man, and if he loves you, he will believe you. As he does love you, anyone with eyes could see it, you will be fine."

"But what if he doesn't?"

Lizzy gave her a hug. "Where is that 21st century hoyden, Sam?" she chided. "If he doesn't love you enough to accept the marvels of time travel and by extension your unique self, then you are better off without him, as much as it pains me to say it."

Sam nodded slowly. "You're right. Pining is so last century."

They shared a giggle, and went downstairs. Sam was ready to face her suitor, no matter what the outcome.

It was in this battlefield mindset that Fitzwilliam found his love. "Good morning, Miss Langford," he said, bowing.

She curtsied, and found her hands shaking. She pressed them together. "Good morning," she replied. "Tea?"

"Thank you."

She made him a cup of tea, (one sugar, no milk, splash of lemon), and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed as she passed the cup, and she retreated hastily to the other end of the settee. "So," she said.

"Yes," he said, "so." He chuckled. "I seem to have shot myself in the foot, asking for a specific interview."

She laughed. "Not much of a strategist now you've given up your commission, are you?" she teased.

He knelt in front her. "Not really, no." He grasped her hand with both of his. "My dearest Samantha, when you are near, all my pretty speeches fly straight out of my head. I had a speech planned and everything, but the only thing I can focus on is you. I love you. Will you marry me?"

She squeezed his hands, and resisted the urge to laugh. "Yes, yes I will. I love you, too. Never mind the pretty speeches."

He kissed her hands reverently. "I love you," he said again.

She traced the movements of his hands with her fingers, her heart fluttering nervously. "First, I, need to tell you something."

"Of course dear heart. What is it?" He moved to sit next to her on the sofa, their hands still clasped together.

"I'm from America," she said.

He chuckled. "Yes, I know that."

"America, two hundred years in the future," she continued. "I was born in 1998."

He stared at her. "What?"

Slowly, she explained everything to him. The Bennets, her education in the ways of this time, her cell phone. She paced, and told him the story of the shower patent and the engineering book, and he sat on the couch and stared at the little phone in his hands, scrolling through the camera roll.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," she said, "but I had to be sure of your regard for me, and, before today there was no chance to explain it all, and-"

"You're from the future," he interrupted, still staring at the pictures.

"Yes."

"And you're not going back?"

"No. I don't think so. There's no way for me to travel, no. No, I'm staying here."

He looked up at her. "Then everything is fine. Wonderful, even."

She stopped pacing and stared at him. "Really?"

He stood up and handed her the phone. "This, is just another part of who you are. I am honored that you trusted me enough to tell me, and I am incredibly pleased that the woman I love, is indeed a very, very special person." He touched her cheek lightly. "It wouldn't matter to me, Samantha, if you were from the past, or the future, or another world entirely. I love you."

She met his eyes, and saw the truth there. She smiled at him. "I love you, Richard."

He bent his head to kiss her. "Sam..." he murmured.

They were thus agreeably engaged, when a discreet, "ahem, ahem, oh dear the handle seems to be sticking, we must get that looked at," at the door, alerted them. Fitzwilliam withdrew to the mantel, and Sam checked her hair.

The door opened, and a cautious Mr. and Mrs. Darcy poked their heads in. "Good morning, Richard," Darcy said cordially, giving him an appraising glance.

Fitzwilliam beamed at him. "Cousin, you may congratulate me. I am the happiest of men!"

The cousins shook hands and pounded each other on the back, and Lizzy flew to Sam. "You're engaged," Lizzy said eagerly.

Sam nodded, laughing. "I am."

"I'm so happy for you, Sam." She hugged her. "How did it go?"

"He loves me. He didn't care about the time travel."

"I told you so."

Georgie came rushing in, and read the truth on their faces. "Oh Richard!" she squealed, hugging him, and then hugging Sam. "Sam! We will be cousins! Oh, it's so exciting!" She grabbed Sam's hand. "Where's your ring?"

Fitzwilliam groaned and slapped his forehead. "The ring! I completely forgot." He dug a small box out of his pocket. "Georgie, sweet, budge over." He replaced Georgie's hand with his own, and slid a gold and silver-entwined ring with a single sapphire onto Sam's finger. "It was my grandmother's," he explained.

Sam smiled at him. "I love it."

Darcy smiled at them both, and patted his cousin on the arm. "It's a miracle you managed to make it to Colonel before you retired, cuz, if you're always this forgetful."

"Only when I'm in love," Fitzwilliam replied sappily.

Sam laughed and kissed his cheek. "Good thing you're marrying me. I have excellent organizational skills."

"When it's not your desk," Lizzy teased.

With much laughter and teasing, the quintet headed to the music room for some celebratory champagne and music.

That evening, the Darcy's hosted an engagement dinner and invited the Matlocks, the Bingleys, and the Gardiners. Everyone was supremely happy about the match, and the Earl and Countess welcomed Sam to the family with hugs, and all was right in the world. Two hundred years in the past, Samantha Langford found her place in the world.

-P-

The wedding took place six weeks later at the Pemberley chapel. Mr. Bennet gave the bride away, and everyone agreed she had never looked more beautiful than when she was smiling at her husband.

Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam went to Scotland for a honeymoon trip, and then settled at Meadowfaire. It was a small estate, pulling in three thousand a year, but with those three thousand, his pension, and Sam's career, the Fitzwilliam's could live in the style that they were accustomed to.

The household at Meadowfaire quickly got used to seeing their new Master and Mistress argue, debate, discuss, and analyze every topic under the sun, and realized that was their way of flirting. They also got used to the Mistress' eccentric habits such as: climbing trees, inventing things, and educating anyone and everyone she could get her hands on. A great many changes came to Meadowfaire, but since they included hot running water, an excellent plumbing system, and a village school for the tenants, nobody minded. And Sam did what she swore she never would: manage a houseful of servants and tenants, and social calendars.

-P-

A year later, the Darcy's, Bingley's, and Fitzwilliam's were gathered at Pemberley for the birth of the Darcy heir, James Bennet Darcy. He was an adorable, chubby baby, and everyone was in love with him. His father was beaming with pride, and only reluctantly handed him off to other people to cuddle.

It was Sam's turn to hold the baby, and she ran her fingers over his soft skin. "You're gonna be so spoiled, kiddo," she murmured. She grinned when the baby twitched under her fingers. "Man, I'm gonna sing you all the Disney songs."

"Disney?" Darcy asked.

She smiled at him. "The songs of my childhood. I think we'll leave out High School Musical though."

"Is that the one you were singing the other day?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"No, that was from Frozen."

"Frozen?"

"Yes. That was the last Disney movie I watched before I came here. I missed the new Beauty and the Beast by a year. It will be marvelous, I could tell by the trailers."

Everyone chuckled. Except Bingley. He looked confused. "Movies?" he asked.

They all shared a glance. "You didn't tell him?" Lizzy asked Jane, starting to laugh.

"No, I, it never came up. Why would it?"

"Tell me what?" Bingley demanded.

Fitzwilliam huffed. "Samantha is from the future. But never mind that. We were discussing the heir to Pemberley."

"Wait, what?"

They explained it to him, and Sam demonstrated the phone camera by taking a picture of baby Darcy with his parents.

"Oh. Well that's jolly good. No wonder you're so educated." Bingley smiled, and that was that.

-P-

It was ten years later that the strangers arrived. Sam was with her husband and her children in the rose garden, when two strangers walked towards them, from the trees.

"Samantha Langford?" the man asked. He was wearing combat gear, and carried a tablet. His partner, a woman, was similarly dressed.

Richard stood up and moved their son, Henry, and their daughter, Elizabeth, to Samantha's side. "How did you get into the private gardens?" he demanded.

"We're looking for Samantha Langford," he said.

Sam had not lost any of her straightforwardness in the last ten years. She stood up and stepped forward. "That's me," she said. "Who are you? When are you from?"

"We're from the year 2035," the man said. "It took us a while to track you down."

"It's been twelve years," Sam replied. "How did I end up here in the first place?"

"A backwash from one of our experiments," the man said.

The woman pointed to the necklace. "You're wearing one of the control crystals from the puddle-jumper," she said. "It activated when the rest of the machine did."

Sam's hand went to the pendant around her neck. "How-"

"We don't have time to explain everything, and it would take a lifetime for you to understand it," the man interrupted. "The thing is, do you want to go back to 2016? We could arrange it for you."

Sam glanced back at her family and shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm very content here." She gave them a small grin. "Thank you though, for explaining it to me."

They nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, one last thing," the woman said. "Make sure that your phone and your necklace go into a trust, for Dr. Cassandra Frasier, care of the US government. She'll take care of them."

Sam nodded slowly. "I will."

"Thank you." The man checked his tablet. "We've got to get back to the future. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Sam stepped back to take Richard's hand, and they watched the two strangers walk into the trees and fade out of sight.

"So," he said quietly, "now you know."

She looked down at the pendant. "Yes, but, how does that even work?"

"Sam, is that really...?"

She smiled at him. "You don't want me to investigate the secrets of the universe, dearest?"

He kissed her cheek. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

She knelt to hug little Beth. "My strengths are mechanical engineering and running estates," she said, pressing a kiss to the little girl's hair. "I think we'll leave it at that."

"Don't forget motherhood," Richard said, sitting down on the grass next to her. "I think that's your best skill yet."

She grinned. Perfect timing. "Is it?" she asked. "Do you think maybe one more trial run, to become a true proficient?"

"Samantha, what-" He stared at her, and broke into a grin. "Truly?"

She smiled and nodded. "Truly."

He laughed in delight and pulled her close. "My love," he said, kissing her gently.

"Eww," Henry and Beth chorused, wrinkling their noses.

Sam reached out to hug them. "How would you like a new brother or sister?" she asked. "A little brother to muddy your dresses, or a little sister to steal your ribbons?"

The children, having experienced all of that with their Darcy and Bingley cousins, thought it sounded excellent.

The last little Fitzwilliam child was named Katie, vaguely after Samantha's aunt, who had accidentally made it possible for Samantha to go down in history as the inventor of the shower, and one of the earliest pioneers of women's education.

Samantha never found reason to doubt that her Colonel loved her very much indeed.

-FIN-