SEPTEMBER 2548

"Mm," I sigh as I roll onto my stomach. The sun feels glorious against my bare skin, and I'm sure I could lie here for a very long time.

"The sun will be going down in an hour or so," Gabriel comments. "There's not much purpose in lying on the beach at that point."

I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him. He's sitting on a towel, watching me sunbathe. He doesn't really burn, but neither does he get the almost-sinful pleasure that I do from the sunshine. We've spent almost two weeks here in the Caribbean, mostly for my pleasure. He likes the solitude that comes with being the only two people on the island, but I think he'll be happy when we move on. I promised we could leave at the end of the week.

"We don't have to," he reminds me now. He's told me that several times in the past couple of days, but I'm excited to continue our adventure. So far we've only seen Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon, and I'm ready for more.

"Tell me about Ireland," I prompt him. That's our next destination before heading to continental Europe. He pulls his gaze from the horizon to focus on me.

"Well, I can take you to Dublin if you like, but I think you'll enjoy the smaller towns more. It's very beautiful, but it's going to get cold. We'll need to invest in some warmer clothing." His eyes flicker down to the bathing suit I'm wearing. "I doubt your current attire will be enough to protect you from the elements."

"Go on," I encourage, ignoring the way his eyes linger on my skin. He smirks at me, but obliges.

"If we decide we want to live there for a while, there are several locations where we can stay in relative privacy. The heather's picturesque, but most don't choose to live in it."

"Wait." I sit up. "What makes you think I want to live in the middle of nowhere all by ourselves?" He raises an eyebrow. "Maybe I was looking forward to having neighbors."

He chuckles low in his throat. "You're not the social butterfly anymore, and we both know it. And besides," he leans forward and catches my arm, dragging me closer to him, "we wouldn't want the neighbors to hear you screaming at night." The breath that carries his whisper tickles my ear and sends a shiver down my spine.

A small noise escapes my lips as he grabs me harder and pulls me on top of him, kissing my exposed, sun-warmed flesh. "Oh. I see your point."

After my shrieks have echoed through the empty air and I've collapsed against his chest, I reflect that perhaps we could use the solitude for a few years. And we can go in to town whenever we want anyway. I am vaguely aware that the sun is getting lower as I listen to my husband's breathing.

"Do you remember dancing at the State dinner?" he murmurs.

"Mmm…yes. The dinner was awful, though."

"Some people have a more refined palate," he says loftily. "We couldn't very well have corndogs or something low-class like that."

I lift my head so he can see me raise an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that, given the choice, you would have eaten that weird lox and caviar before a corndog?"

He chuckles. "Probably not. It wasn't very high quality stuff." I poke him in the ribs and he grunts, grabbing my fingers.

We play the game for a few more minutes before I speak up, "Gabriel? We're going to live forever."

He chokes and rolls onto his side, laughing harder than I've ever heard him do before. "Are you kidding me? Did you really just say that?"

I blush furiously and punch him in the arm. "Shut up." He eventually gets himself back under control, lying back and pulling me against him again.

"Go ahead," he gasps between breaths. "Sorry."

"No. I don't appreciate your attitude."

He pinches my upper arm lightly. "I said I was sorry. Now talk." I grumble a little more before continuing my original train of thought.

"You used to tell me I'd get used to it," I say quietly as he falls silent. "That I would learn to care about you, and want you, and love you. You told me that I could learn to be happy even when my family and friends had turned to dust. And I called you a liar. And even when I couldn't do that, I didn't believe you. Do you remember?"

It took him a long time to answer, and when he did, he had to clear his throat a few times first. "Yes. I remember all of it."

He stood and lifted me up, silencing me with a look. "The sun is setting. I want you to see it before we leave."

I let him protect me in the confines of his arms as he move up into the sky. I'm involuntarily reminded of West as we fly up, only this time the man I am with is comfortable with himself and who we are together, not willing to stay hidden from the world forever.

"Look," he says simply as we turn toward the sunset. The sky is losing its brilliant sapphire hue and gaining streaks of iridescent color instead, purple and orange and pink and gold. It's beautiful.

We stare in awe as the sun gradually slips below the horizon and moonlight takes its place. My throat is tight with emotion as I rest my head against Gabriel's chest.

"I was wrong," I whisper to him without looking away from the sky. "You were right about everything. I love you." I blink tears out of my eyes and finally look up to see him watching me.

"We have forever," he murmurs back, and the words that were once an unbearable threat now sound like a promise of hope and redemption.

A/N: Dear readers. We reached the end. Chuck and I would like to thank you from the bottom of our-admittedly shallow-hearts. You have stuck with us throughout this long journey which has been the Interesting Hobby series, have praised and corrected us, and have loved Sylar and Claire and Dani and Kale just as much as we have. I'm not sure we would have ever finished the series (which in its entirety totals 131694 words) if you hadn't been here supporting us. So thank you. Thank you for brightening our days with your comments and for sticking with us. We hope you've enjoyed this series as much as we have.

Love, Mel and Chuck.

PS: For those of you interested, we do have two other active stories at the moment. Collide and The Agency. The pace is slow going at the moment, because Mel is in the UK vacationing/studying until the end of June, but we have not abandoned them.