Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground.

Here we are, at the end of this epic journey. Thank you for coming along with me. Now you've got one last chance to bring me joy. Reviews are the love and "currency of this so-called society."

If she had been honest with herself before she died, she would have admitted that she didn't have a plan. Not a real one. See her brothers through school, then go back herself had been the basic premise. But she'd had dreams of travel. Of going to Paris and being swept off her feet by a dashing Frenchman and having a brood of darling French children.

You can't always get what you want.

"Paris isn't as romantic as you think it is," Hal had told her once.

"And why's that?"

"It's filthy. Dirtiest city I've ever been to. And it's crowded. With ghosts."

"But that was last century, " she winked, but then pondered for a moment. "Are there any places out there you do want to go to again?"

Hal shrugged.

"Come on - not one?"

"I've heard the Claddagh hasn't much changed. Though, they have a swan problem now."

"What? Where do they have a swan problem?"

"Small sector of Galway. Ireland."

"Alright then. Show me. I love swans. They mate for life, you know." She winked.

Years into the future though, she will be sitting across from Hal in a cafe in Paris. He'll be reading the newspaper and muttering about some diplomat and "why couldn't they ever grasp the simple theories of economics? These matters are not difficult, truly -" and Alex will flirt with the waiter when he takes their order, because she can. She'll be wearing a simple tee shirt and jeans, because she can. She will stare out across Rue le Pic to the lively street market, and reflect on the girl who died. Killed by a vampire. It was only after death that she started living. After having travelled to every continent, and three dozen countries, that day they will be heading back home to Barry, to babysit little Evie Anne while her parents went "howling."

Tom and Allison were married in a woodland ceremony surrounded by friends and family. They had secretly already been with child, but Hal and Alex knew. Alex loved that little girl with all her heart and often filled in for her busy parents. Hal superstitiously believed the child would grow up to rid the world of vampires, but Tom just laughed at him. Nonetheless, Hal was cautious and protective. Their household had truly become a family, even if Hal had put his foot down about the labrador Tom wanted.

Hal and Alex had a more private affair, when he renewed his promise to her a year to the day. "Till Death Do Us Part" was a bit awkward for two people who technically had already died, but it didn't change how they felt. The strength of love between them had only grown with Hal's recovery, and Alex counted every day as the blessing it was.

Of course there were rough spots. Like that terrible accident in Rome with the bicyclist. They had been a block away, and hadn't witnessed it, but the blood on the breeze had been enough for Hal to go perfectly still and whisper, "Home, please." He'd had her tie him down for a week after, just to be sure.

His bloodlust would rise sometimes, like an impassable and irrational crevasse between them that could not be debated. But he was always honest about it. Hiding it could cost lives, so he always told her. His constant vigilance was the price he paid to live somewhat normally on the good days. On bad days, they'd stay in. She introduced him to her favourite films, and he, his favourite novels.

They'd become known as the Millers on the few supernatural encounters they had. She would clasp Hal's hand and pretend to be a vampire as well, flexing her powers of persuasion lest her visibility raise too many questions. There was always the chance that Alex would run into someone she had known before her death, but she argued the chance was slim. Except for occasional visits to the Hebrides, they steered clear of Scotland. If it happened, she would have to "persuade" someone she knew, which Maggie had cautioned could prove difficult.

Rook was in touch often, seeking Hal's counsel or Alex's assistance. Sometimes, strange werewolves would show up at their door, feral eyed and seeking "McNair." Tom was good with them.

Richard and Rosanna kept their distance, though Alex knew both Hal and Rook were in communication with them. Through Richard's collaboration with the Department, a "medical sanguine" awareness programme and network of blood donors was in the early stages of implementation. Spike hadn't been the only vampire who wanted to subsist without killing.

Hal kept a correspondence with London under several aliases but thus far, no one had come looking for him. Rosanna's word had been believed and Henry Yorke was "proper dead" once more.

Alex feared that someday, Hal would leave. That he would get up in the middle of the night and never return. She was frightened that someday love wouldn't be enough and he would finish what he had started all those years ago in the woods.

She could feel the lure he had to people. Sometimes she could see it in him so clearly - the quiet way he would watch people, then abruptly turn his attention elsewhere. The vampire was barely contained below the surface - like a tiger pacing the confines of his cage - ever watchful for the chance to strike, to spring free. She could feel the chains of blood-yearning shake through him, his nightmares waking him. Often he would get up and travel from their bed wordlessly to complete a round of press-ups or dominos. The really bad ones would keep him away for hours.

Every time he returned to her in the night she would pull him as close as she could. Pressing herself into him, she would try to give back the strength he was lending her. Because every time he returned, it was a silent sigh of relief. Alex knew that the next time, he may not.

It was as simple, and as complex as that one daily choice - to choose love and each other. And it always would be.

Every day that they nestled into sleep was a blessing. One more day day bested. One more won. Their twining of a shared anchor kept them both grounded, but it was more than that. Sometimes he would catch a subtle look from her and smile, understanding. They had been through the darkness together and returned. To be known and loved was a blessing Hal did not believe he deserved, yet one she gave regardless. Love was the path to forgiveness, and Alex had forgiven him. In time, she hoped Hal would forgive himself.

So they would tumble into sleep, each counting off one more of their endless days, knowing that it could end at any moment. For what else could there be? What was left but this present now? The choice of today setting the course for the morrow.

What was left, but love?

Finis.