Thank you guys so much for the reviews, and thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this story! It was fun! :] This next chapter, (epilogue) is through the eyes of their kid! :]

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

CALLIE'S POV

When you were a child, did you ever lie down in bed, snuggled up in your soft, warm pajamas and ask your parents to tell you a bedtime story? Did you ever ask them how they met each other, or how they fell in love, or little details about their lives? As a little girl, I always did. I always loved hearing about how it was love at first sight, and how whenever they were together, everything was so simple.

As I got older, I discovered that it wasn't true at all.

I preferred the bedtime story they told me when I was just a child. The story that explained the perfect, amazing life they lived. How my mother's parents were kind, loving people, and how she missed them dearly after they had to move away. I had always enjoyed hearing of my father's life with his loving parents. They told me that they met while they were both taking a walk on a beach on a blue-sky, flawless day. As soon as their eyes met, they said, they were instantly in love, and nothing else mattered.

But the real story was hidden from me until much later.

In reality, my dad had had a heartless con-artist of a father that always pulled him into his selfish tricks to suck the money out of innocent strangers when he was just a boy. Dad had married once before, and had another daughter, but tragedy struck and they were taken away from him. Grief-stricken and heartbroken, he was quite close to killing himself, until he found the one thing that was worth living for anymore. A job at the CBI; the California Bureau of Investigation. There, he met his boss and his co-workers, and they instantly became family.

My mom… well, her childhood sucked, too. Her mother, my grandmother, was killed in a car wreck, (hit by a drunk driver) and Mom's dad turned to alcohol to numb his pain. Mom had to grow up at the tender age of twelve years old to take care of her three younger brothers, my uncles. She would step in and protect them when my grandfather was overtaken by violence, which built up her bravery and strength. Her father killed himself later, and she was basically on her own. She grew up to be a fearless leader of the CBI.

When Mom and Dad met at the CBI, they didn't agree on much. Hell, they hardly agreed on anything! Dad was constantly getting his boss into trouble, which just so happens to be my mother. Dad got Mom suspended umpteen amount of times. He got cases thrown out of court, and even got himself thrown into jail. They bickered and fought and teased, and despite their many, many differences, they had one thing in common: they were broken, in need of fixing, and were soon the best of friends.

My dad, the idiot he can sometimes be, chose to finally realize his undying love for my mom the day she was marrying someone else. He stopped her from marrying some billionaire, and it was a good thing he did. About a month after Mom left her fiancée at the altar, that jerk hooked up with some lady that my dad used to be good friends with (Sophie… something), and I guess they're married now, with a son that goes to my school who is the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. His name is Cameron Mashburn, a senior. He's the kind of kid who will stare at girls' asses as their walking down the hall and whistle, followed by a "Looking good!", and then you'll hear a chorus of his friends' booming laughter.

All in all, my parents had nothing that resembled a fairytale, despite what they told me when I was a little girl.

XXXX

My name is Callie Jane, and I'm fourteen years old.

To be honest, I'm not that tall. I'm only about 5'2, which I guess isn't so bad for a fourteen-year-old girl with short parents. But it is a bit humiliating when the rest of your friends hit their growth spurt before you and absolutely tower over you. I inherited my mother's raven black curls that fall just below my shoulder blades, and I have my father's bright blue eyes.

I'm an only child. What I'd really like is an older sister, but my father, being the smartass he is, pointed out that it is impossible at this point. But then I remembered that I do have an older sister. Her name is Charlotte, and she is deceased.

My sister and her mother were murdered by a man with the name Red John. If Charlotte were still alive, she'd be many years older than I. In her twenties or… thirties? Could that be right?

My parents waited three years after they got married to have me. That's not unusual. That's relatively normal. What was rather unusual about the whole situation was that the reason they had to wait was because a sadistic killer was after them, particularly my mother. Why did he go after Mom, you ask? Because he wanted to hurt Dad.

I later discovered that it was the same killer that killed Charlotte and my dad's deceased wife. That made my blood run cold.

Mom and Dad explained to me that they waited until Red John was dead to have me. They wanted to keep me safe. They wanted me to live in a world where they weren't terrified of losing me, or vice versa.

They also explained to me that the way Red John died was not ideal.

He was shot by my Aunt Grace.

Red John entered Grace's house, in an attempt to kidnap her. What he didn't anticipate was for her to pull a gun on him, (he assumed it was only my mom that kept a gun in her bedside table.) In an act of desperation, Aunt Grace shot him, but she was never charged for murder because technically, it was an act of self-defense. My dad wormed her out of that one.

Red John was dead. He wasn't after the people my dad loved. It was safe for my parents to bring a kid into the world.

So what if my parents were in their late thirties and early forties when they had me? So what? They were in love. They were happy. They wanted a kid. And a kid is what they got.

XXXX

"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" My daddy grinned at me when I came downstairs on the morning of Saturday, September 23rd.

I smiled back at him. "Thanks."

He jumped up from the kitchen table, where he was sipping at his cup of tea, and pulled me in for a hug. "How does it feel to be fifteen?"

"Nothing different."

He chuckled. "Wait until you start driving." He let me go and then shuddered. "Literally. Wait until you start driving."

"Ha ha," I laughed sarcastically. "Where's Mom?"

"Sleeping off the adrenaline from yesterday."

My parents had been shot at yesterday on the job. Well, not only them, but also my Uncle Wayne, Aunt Grace, and Uncle Kimball. A crazed murder suspect that would now be thrown in jail whether he killed his brother or not.

"Ah," was all I said.

"The work of a CBI agent," Dad explained.

"That I can't wait for," I finished for him.

He eyed me skeptically, glanced at the staircase to make sure Mom wasn't anywhere close, then leaned in. "Tell you what. One of these days I'll take you out in the field."

"Mom would never let me. Or you."

"Mom used to try to never let me do anything when I was just a consultant, and I never followed the rules."

"Didn't you get a man killed on your first day?"

"Hey! He was the one who killed his daughter because she wouldn't have sex with him anymore! And besides, it's not like I'm the one who shot him. It was the wife. I just happened to be the one to inform her."

I laughed. "Whatever, Dad."

He nudged me. "So, what do you want to do on your birthday?"

"Drive."

"No."

"Please?"

"I could have been killed yesterday. Just because I wasn't, you're trying to get me killed today?"

I picked up a napkin, crumpled it up and chucked it at his head.

He grinned. "At least it's not a stapler."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll take you driving one of these days, I swear."

I sighed dramatically and sarcastically.

"You're such a teenager." My dad cracked another smile.

I wasn't amused. "Dad?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

I hesitated, knowing this might hurt him. I looked down at my hands in my lap. "What was my sister like?"

Dad's smile faded, but he showed no sense of emotion. "Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." I looked up again. "I'm curious."

He sighed, but then smiled slightly. "Charlotte was a lot like you, Callie."

"She was?"

Dad nodded. "Yep. She was only five years old when she died, but she was smart, beautiful, sweet, and funny. Outgoing. A social butterfly." He winked. "At five years old, she liked watching those murder shows with her mother, and she wanted to be an agent when she grew up."

"Like me," I breathed.

"Just like you," he agreed, nodding again.

"What was your wife like?" I asked.

Something from behind me caught his eye, and he smiled. "My wife is beautiful, and strong, and brave, and stubborn. And I love her."

I turned around, and there was my mom. She had pajama pants on and an oversized football jersey she always wore. "Are you talking about me?" she accused.

"You caught me," Dad replied simply.

She glanced at me and grinned. "Happy birthday, Callie." She walked forward and kissed my forehead.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Any plans today?"

"Not yet."

"Well, I was thinking we could have everyone over tonight for dinner. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," I said, and I went upstairs to take a shower.

XXXX

"Happy birthday, Callie!" my cousin Olivia threw her arms around me when she walked in the door.

"Thanks, Liv." I smiled.

Twelve-year-old Olivia wasn't technically my cousin. Nor was her eight-year-old brother Dylan. They were the daughter and son of Wayne and Grace Rigsby, but since Aunt Grace and Uncle Wayne were like family to me and my parents, so were their children.

Wayne gave me a hug and Grace squeezed me so hard I thought it could kill me. I smiled. I loved them so much.

Kimball and Elise Cho, my other kind-of-but-not-really aunt and uncle arrived soon after them with their one son, my kind-of-but-not-really cousin, eleven-year-old Zach. Uncle Kimball smiled at me and gave me a pat on the shoulder, and Aunt Elise gave me a big hug.

This is how I wanted my life to stay. I had great parents. A mother as brave as a lion and a father with skills that will knock you off your feet in a second. I may not be close to my mother's brothers and their families, or my father's brother-in-law and his new family. Maybe I didn't know much about my grandparents or what Dad's father made him do when he was a kid that left him feeling sorry. Maybe that sister I wished I had was gone, forever, but even though she was dead, I loved her. I loved Charlotte Jane more than she or anyone else could ever imagine.

And as I sat in the living room and looked around at the people I loved, I couldn't help but notice that my cousin Dylan was keeping something from his parents. As I put the pieces together, I realized that he didn't clean his room when his parents asked him to. He just shoved all his crap under the bed.

Oh, yeah. Did I mention I have the same skills as Daddy?

The end!

So, in case you didn't understand the plot, here it is. Callie Jane is Patrick and Teresa's teenage daughter years into the future after Jane stole Lisbon from Mashburn. Van Pelt and Rigsby are married with two kids. Cho and Elise are married with a son. Walter Mashburn and Sophie Miller are married with a teenage son that Callie hates. Grace killed Red John in an act of self-defense… And, oh yeah! Callie has the same skills as her father!

As I was writing this epilogue, it suddenly occurred to me that this chapter was rather pointless, and kind of lame, but oh well. I decided to publish it anyways! Thank you so, so, SO much for reading, and reviewing!

I will be back soon… as soon as I brainstorm a good idea for another fic!