A/N: Wow. So here we come to the last chapter of this story. In a way, I'm sad it's over, but I'm also kind of glad. I'll be working on other projects throughout the semester that hopefully you'll enjoy. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through this. It's the longest story I've ever written, but I hope you've enjoyed it. Thank you to all who reviewed, whether it was anonymous or signed; your words of encouragement really helped me so much. To those who added this to their favorites and alerts, thank you all too... seeing those in my inbox really boosted my confidence as well. And to those who read, I hope this was an exciting and satisfying ride for you all.

And last but definitely not least, to Lily - thank you so much for being patient with me and offering suggestions and words of encouragement. I greatly appreciate your time and effort in reading over this. I couldn't have asked for a better beta.

I hope this brings this endeavor to a satisfactory conclusion. It's a little short, but I hope it's satisfying nonetheless. And as always, let me know what you think about it!

Epilogue

"An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind." – Mohandas Gandhi

Spring had finally arrived in New York City.

As the spring thunderstorm passed, a cool breeze twisted and twirled through the thin city streets, winding down every alley and around every corner. It whistled through the trees in Central Park, rustling the budding leaves. In the west, the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon, turning the few clouds in the sky to a deep violet. Rain water babbled happily on its way down the streets through the gutter and into the storm drains.

The meteorologists on the television were actually predicting warmer temperatures and lots of sun for the rest of the week.

Imagine that.

The street outside the Paramount Hotel was crawling with police officers, uniformed and plainclothes alike. Red and blue lights danced off the drops of water sliding down the glass walls of the lobby. Yellow tape stretched across the entrance of the hotel, and barricades had been erected on either end of the street.

Stella sat quietly in the back of one of the squad cars, not really observing all the hubbub going on around her. Though physically she was fine, she knew that putting all this behind her would take some time. Mac would probably have her take some time off from work, no matter how hard she protested. Truthfully, though, she thought it was for the best. Kenny's funeral was in a couple of days, and she could take the time to spend with his family. She needed it, and she knew they needed it.

A side door a few feet away opened suddenly, and she looked up to see the coroner's assistant wheel a gurney through the entrance. It clattered noisily to the pavement, and the black body bag on top shifted just a little. Stella took a deep breath and closed her eyes. In her mind's eye she could still see Krasinski's body jerk and twitch grotesquely, the reverberations of the gunshots pounding on her eardrums.

"Stel."

The familiar, soft voice caused her eyes to pop open. Mac was standing in front of her, a concerned look on his face. He'd ditched the protective vest, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up his forearms. Just like they were a few nights before, when her world was much less complicated.

Unbidden, a smile touched the corners of her mouth, and he took a step closer to her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before nodding. "I will be." She noticed a couple of detectives in suits milling around by the barricade, and she frowned. "Did you see IAB's here?"

Mac rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah. They got statements from me and Flack. Now I think they want to do a little damage control."

"They'll probably want to talk to me next."

"Probably."

"Speaking of Flack, where is he?"

"On the phone." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "He's got detectives on their way to Sing-Sing to talk to Jeremy Krasinski."

"Was he involved?"

Mac shrugged a shoulder and looked at her, his eyes clouded with something she couldn't place. "We haven't found anything to say he is. I can't think of any other person that would have as much stake in this, but there's no evidence implicating him. We may never really know."

Stella nodded slowly. "Robert was careful."

"Exceedingly careful. There's nothing in his apartment that even suggests a conspiracy."

Movement behind Mac caught her eye, and she looked over his shoulder to see two more gurneys with two more big black bags roll by, pushed by a pair of coroner's assistants. Her eyes followed them as they disappeared around the corner.

A rough hand touched hers, breaking her out of her thoughts, and she looked up again into Mac's concerned blue irises. "The two cops assigned to protect me?" she asked.

He nodded. "We found them in the alley behind the hotel. Both were shot once. Flack thinks Krasinski lured them out there somehow and caught them from behind."

"How could the line between justice and revenge be blurred so much? How could he have hated us so much?"

Mac squeezed her hand gently and stepped closer to her so that their knees were touching. "For him, losing control was too much. He thought that the only way he could save someone he loved was to kill those that had put him in the situation."

"So much for personal responsibility."

"Justice is always about taking the consequences for your actions, letting the punishment fit the crime. We all make mistakes, and we are all responsible for whatever they bring." Mac paused for a moment, squeezing her hand again. "He decided that he was going to be the arbiter of justice. And whenever we take that role for ourselves rather than weighing the evidence, people always get hurt."

Stella looked down for a moment. "Just… so much death with this. Six people lost their lives, Mac."

"It's not your fault, Stella. None of this is on you. You know that, right?"

She gave him a half-smile, still not looking up at him. "My head does. It just might take my heart a little while to catch up."

His hand left hers and settled on her cheek. He brushed the pad of his thumb against her skin, and her gaze locked with his. "Let's get outta here," he said softly. "I think we need to talk."

Her eyes never left his as she nodded slowly. He helped her down from the back of the ambulance then placed his hand on the small of her back as he led her past the police cars and barricades. They walked slowly, his hand never straying far from her back, ushering her down the street. She could feel his warmth, and she marveled again at how he made her feel safe, protected. She wanted to feel that way with him forever.

They stopped next to a railing overlooking Rockefeller Plaza, where the Christmas tree and ice rink had been just a few months before. People hustled and bustled around them in the city that never stopped, but at least here they were safe from prying eyes.

She placed her elbows against the metal railing, the cool breeze lifting her curls from her shoulders. The metal bent slightly as Mac copied her position, staring down at the Plaza. The people below them carried on as usual, and the chatter from a couple thousand voices on their cell phones floated up toward them. "Thank you, Mac," she whispered.

He looked at her, eyebrow cocked.

"For saving my life. Again."

A small smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. "You're welcome."

"There's something… I wanted to tell you."

His eyebrow rose even higher, and he flashed a dimple at her. "There is?"

Stella nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about… about us. Our friendship."

Mac straightened and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "So have I."

"You have?"

He nodded. "I've been thinking about what you said the other night. About life getting away from you." Mac raked a hand through his hair nervously, and she couldn't help but smile. He was absolutely adorable when he was nervous. "Stella, I almost lost you twice in the last twenty-four hours. Seeing you with that gun against your head… it almost killed me."

Her smile faded, and she bit her lip. His walls, so carefully constructed around his emotions, were slowly crumbling.

"I can't lose you, Stel. It would kill me if something happened to you. You're the only person who sustains me, who keeps me going in this job day after day."

"Mac, what are you saying?"

He looked at her with those stormy eyes of his, and she saw that wall completely fall away. They blazed with an intensity she hadn't seen from him in their ten years of friendship. That moment was the first time she ever believed in the old saying that the eyes are the window to the soul.

"I'm saying that I want to be the first face you see when you wake up in the morning. I want to be the last thing you see before you go to sleep at night. I want to hold you when you have a bad day, laugh with you when you have a good day, celebrate with you when you solve a tough case."

She thought her heart was going to explode from her chest, it was pounding so hard. Her mouth opened and closed several times, trying to come up with a response to his sudden confession, but her brain seemed to just shut down.

He took two steps toward her, pinning her to the railing. One of his hands slowly sneaked around her waist, pulling her into his body.

"Stella, you're a strong woman. I've always admired that about you. You can take care of yourself better than anyone else I know. But sometimes you have to let others take care of you." His other hand came up and gently caressed her cheek.

"What about Sinclair? And all the rules?"

"Screw Sinclair," he said forcefully, and she would've laughed if he hadn't had that serious look in his eyes. "Rules are meant to protect the lab. You and I together won't cause any problems. We're too good for that, and this is too right."

His hand trailed down her jaw to her chin, tilting it up so that her eyes met his.

"I love you, Stella," he whispered sincerely. "The only reason that I can think of for us not being together is if you don't feel the same way. Please. Let me take care of you."

She could've melted right then. The last five days flashed through her mind. Him leaning against her desk. Working the Lombard scene with him. Him saving her life. Waking up wrapped in his arms. Melting into his embrace when she needed him most.

If there was anything this case taught her, it was to make the most of the time given to her. Mac was a gift to her, a man who made her feel more cherished than she'd ever felt in her life. And she wasn't about to squander that.

A smile slowly spread across her face, and she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I love you, too, Mac," she replied softly.

He smiled widely at her, and she felt giddy all of the sudden, like a little girl before the first day of school. But the giddiness soon disappeared as he leaned down just a little. Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips cautiously brushed against the corner of her mouth, and she gasped. As if emboldened by her response, he let his lips drift over hers to the other corner. Then he gently kissed her bottom lip, setting them on fire with just a simple touch.

Slowly he pulled away, and she let out a little whimper at the loss of his touch. Her eyes opened to meet his, basking in the warmth of the love she found in his gaze.

Then suddenly his hand left her face to rest on her hip, and his lips crashed against hers in a kiss that stole the very breath from her lungs. He pulled her body flush to his as his lips devoured hers in a way that was passionate yet surprisingly gentle. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss with equal fervor, threading her fingers through his hair. Such passion from this man, who had kept his emotions so carefully bottled up, astounded her. Yet it felt so right.

Finally their kisses became less passionate and more tempered until she slowly pulled away. Mac rested his forehead against hers, chest heaving. Her eyes slowly opened, meeting his, reading the ardor and contentment there. To think, it had taken them so long to get to that point. But here it was finally right. It was logical and rational and emotional, all rolled into one. Here, in his arms, she knew she was safe.

Mac smiled softly at her with kiss-swollen lips, his blue eyes twinkling. "Remind me again why it took us ten years to do that?" he rasped.

"I think it had something to do with my lousy taste in men and your workaholic tendencies," she retorted with a grin.

He laughed and gently kissed her again. "Something like that."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him, watching the clouds in the distance continue to roll away. The sun had disappeared behind the buildings, draping the city in its twilight glow.

Suddenly she looked up at him, shivering slightly when her eyes met his. "Hey, I just remembered something."

"Oh, no. We caught the bad guy. No more remembering things."

Chuckling, she shook her head. "Not that. I just remembered you still owe me breakfast."

"Right. I do, don't I?"

"Mmhmm. So when do I get to collect?"

Mac grinned suddenly, his blue eyes sharpening to cobalt as he leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. "Tomorrow morning. And the morning after. And the morning after that. And every morning for the next… oh… thirty years or so."

Stella shivered and bit back a moan as he gently placed a kiss in front of her ear. "Sounds good to me."

"Only one condition."

She pulled back to look him in the eyes, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Oh?"

He turned slightly. His hands left her hips and rose to her face, cupping her cheeks before sliding into her curls. "Let's eat in."

Stella pretended to think about it for a moment then let her eyes meet his. Her hands rested on his waist, and she nodded. "I think I can live with that," she murmured just before her lips met his again.

And suddenly the rest of the world and its problems seemed to just disappear until it was only the two of them.

And that was all they needed.

Finis