So here's the final chapter. Hope the ending isn't too cheesy. I just want these two idiots to be happy. ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing!

They had their first fight as a married couple at the very beginning of their honeymoon – something about how he could speak French in several dialects and she could barely put together a three-word sentence, but that didn't mean he needed to speak for her like he was her translator, and so on and so on until some unholy hour of the night, Lizzie yelling and William stony-faced and curt. But they agreed, in retrospect, that it was for the best. Better to get it out of the way so they could work through it and spend the rest of those two weeks engaged in more pleasant activities.

They found a compromise. She would get by with what little French she had – a fair number of people here spoke English, after all – unless she decided she wanted his help, which she would signal by squeezing his hand twice. Then he was welcome to become her translator.

Was she being stubborn for refusing his immediate help? Though she was loath to admit it, Lizzie knew the answer was probably, yes. Was he being presumptuous for always wanting to translate? Probably also yes. But this seemed an effective solution for both stubbornness and presumption, and it got them through their honeymoon without any more fights.

She insisted on seeing on the tourist clichés; the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre; and he introduced her to few more obscure hidden treasures. The fact was, they could have spent the two weeks in his home – their home – in San Francisco and still thoroughly enjoyed themselves. But halfway around the world, they were less tempted to slip in a little worktime. Whatever their other differences, they were definitely both workaholics. Lizzie wouldn't have expected it of herself, but she liked her job so much she couldn't help it. With William, of course, it was no surprise.

But this trip was absolutely work-free. It was possibly the very first time for William, ever since he took up the CEO mantle at such a tender young age. His laptop stayed shut for two full weeks; he only checked his phone now and then to ensure he wasn't missing any emergency emails. More remarkably, this absence of work didn't make him cranky or restless. That was definitely a first.

Also a first was his increasing willingness to engage in public displays of affection. Till this point, he usually drew the line at holding hands, with perhaps the occasional kiss. He insisted that it wasn't because he was embarrassed or didn't enjoy showing her affection. He was an intensely private person, and he felt that making his private feelings public cheapened them somehow.

Since their wedding, however, he seemed to have softened his strictures, and by the end of the honeymoon they had shared a kiss at every landmark in Paris.

They came home on a Thursday to give themselves an additional weekend to settle into their home together. Their home, finally and officially. Before they were married, Lizzie had been reluctant to move in together for reasons she could hardly articulate. They certainly spent enough time at each other's respective residences. Yet somehow she resisted it, feeling that she needed to get her own footing in her new life, to know she could have her own place and pay her own bills and not take the easy way out just because she had a super-rich boyfriend.

Now, however, she could offer up two years of independence as proof to any hypothetical critics, as well as William's promise that she could contribute to the paying of bills as much as she pleased, "Unnecessary though it may be," he couldn't resist adding under his breath.

She knew that money would never be a perfectly easy thing in their relationship, but it was much easier than it used to be. Lots of things were easier.

Gigi had been concerned they were becoming like an old married couple. What she really feared, Lizzie supposed, was that they would become boring. And while their lives might not always be as persistently dramatic as they were at the onset of their relationship, Lizzie doubted they would ever be truly boring. They still had plenty of firsts in the future. Some of them would be bad firsts. Others would be inconsequential. But the good ones – oh, yes, the good ones. Those were the ones that made life interesting and fun and thrilling and never, ever boring. And she couldn't imagine a better companion to share those firsts with than William Darcy.