A/N: And so we come to an end. I have adored writing this fic. It's taken just over four weeks to write and I've enjoyed the experience so very much. My novel will be much better having written this.

Thank you to all of those who have taken the time to review and comment - and what long and lovely reviews. Thank you to those who nominated me for the CSI:NY Fanfic awards, and to those who have voted.

Also, I have to give major credit to Sonnet Lacewing, who not only beta-d this fic, but also provided many ideas and questioned me helpfully on the plot. You are the best possibly gap filler, my dear. I will no longer plan my stories, because I know you will never let me leave any holes.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy this last little bit.

The chapter title is taken from the lyrics of the new Coldplay song, 'Violet Hill'.

Epilogue – Future’s Architectured

4 Months Later

“What do you think?” Flack asked as Angell stood there, her keen eyes examining her surroundings.

“I’ve already seen it at least four times,” she said. “You sure you can afford this on a city salary?” She looked at him, eyes dancing with light.

He nodded sarcastically, attempting to goad her. “Old joke, Jessica.” She smiled, not rising to his teasing. Three months of living with him had felt like a nice kind of forever. She was used to wit and snarky remarks, her own sense of humour had been sharpened by it, and they bantered rather than bickered. He had been good to come home to, and she wasn’t sure how she felt now he had finally chosen an apartment, and seemed too happy about it.

“This is the one you preferred,” he said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “You think it seems better than the one we saw…”

“I think it’s the best one,” she said. “Three bedrooms, a bathroom, en-suite. The NYPD must be paying you a damn sight more than me.”

“But you like it?”

She walked about the living room; it was airy and fresh, the ceiling high. “I like it,” she said. “I think you’d be happy living here.” She saw his face fall slightly, and he refused eye contact. They hadn’t discussed him moving out. Rather like their relationship when it had just began, they had skirted around it, instead reading the ends of looks and the touches of fingers.

It felt like forever since the afternoon when Angell had followed Glass into the house in Queens. It was a lifetime ago since they had met for a drink after work and she had gone back to Flack’s to pick up a DVD. Any concerns about their relationship had fallen by the wayside; he still went out drinking and shooting hoops with Danny, she still met her friends, but at the end of each day they were together. Now that was about to change.

In the four months since the arrest of Malcolm Etchells life had returned to an almost normal state. Amelia had found an apartment in Manhattan, reminding Don of just how annoying little sisters were after having to drive her home from the precinct one night after she turned up there, very inebriated. She’d picked herself up after her dealings with Etchells, blocking what had happened out of her memory and refusing to be a victim. Amy had, although her brother was unaware, been to see Etchells in custody, needing to see the man in the cold light of day. Etchells had become increasing disturbed since his arrest, his obsession with his mother becoming increasingly apparent in his mutterings, even in his sleep. His brother had confirmed many of the suspicions about their relationship, creating a psychologist’s dream.

“It’s about the same distance to work as your place,” Flack said. Angell walked into the master bedroom, blocking Flack’s voice from her head. She had heard this reasoning countless times as he had mulled over which was the better of the four apartments he had short listed. She had never imagined him to be so indecisive, considering his lightning quick mind – and wit. “The extra rooms will be useful. You know, the next time your folks come up they don’t have to stay in a hotel.”

Her ears pricked up. This was one argument he hadn’t used before. Her father had stayed three times in the four months since, and she had appreciated having him around. At one point two of her brothers had turned up unannounced, both of them spending a good hour grilling Flack. It had amused her – and Danny - seeing him on the other end of rapid fire questions and teasing insults. It would also have been enough to send most men running for the hills, but Don had taken it in his stride. “You sure they didn’t dust you for fingerprints when you got home from a date?” he’d said when they had been alone.

She’d laughed. “No, they just put a tail on me from the moment I left the house.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he’d said, completely taken in. Then he’d seen her smile victoriously, and had looked away, a grin on his lips.

“You would really want my father staying with you?” she said as he followed her into the bedroom. He nodded, nonchalant. “What about your parents? Do they figure in your plans?”

He shrugged. “When the time’s right.” They had met them for lunch on a couple of occasions. The conversation had been stiff and stilted between Flack and his father, but words had been exchanged. Forgiveness would come neither easily or quickly, but that did not mean it couldn’t happen.

Flack moved over to the window, his back to it. Angell looked at him, unnerved by the almost apprehensive look in his eyes.

“You like it then?”

She nodded, unsure of why he kept repeating the question but finding her heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

“You think you could live here?” His head turned sideways, and she knew it was so he couldn’t read her. She stood, keeping her back resting against the built in wardrobes.

Could she live here? Could she make this – what they had – permanent? She wasn’t sure it was such a huge jump, it just meant that the safety net that had been under them would be removed.

“You know, Jess, don’t hurry to answer. It’s not like it’s just you I’m asking to move all their shoes and make-up and stockroom to Macy’s, I’ve got a few more girls on my list,” he said, his eyes now fixed on her, reading her.

She laughed, the thick atmosphere between them breaking into fragments. “Do I want to contend with your snoring when you come in after being out with Danny, having drunk the city dry? Or put up with your ‘game’ nights…”

“Hey! You watch those with us? And after the last one, it was me carrying you to bed, having to undress you and all…”

“And that was a hardship, Flack, really!”

“You know, I do kind of get sick of you being in just your underwear,” his eyes met hers and Angell felt the familiar current of electricity ripple through her.

“I guess you’ll have to close your eyes more then, won’t you?” she said.

He grinned, blue eyes flashing. “I’d say lose the underwear.”

She glared. This was going to be fun.

-&-

He liked autumn days. The smell of the leaves as they ended reminded him of England, the sweet scent promising change and challenge. He stood at the open door, listening to the voices without being seen. They were too busy to notice him, something he was glad of.

Glass had always healed quickly, physically anyway. It was the emotional scars that took longer, but even they had faded somewhat. He had high hopes for the future, for New York and the relationships he was beginning to let himself form for the first time in a decade.

He heard Angell’s voice as she accepted his offer of a new place to live and he smiled. It was as if the furniture had already been architectured, as if something somewhere had been predestined. He felt calmness settle within him as he listened, watching shadows move. Light had always been there at the end of the tunnel, but to see it, eyes had to be opened.

Glass bent down and placed his offering on the floor just inside the apartment. As an experienced officer and a rather senior detective, they should have known better than to have left the door wide open, but that would be a reprimand for another day. He heard the air fall silent and backed away, leaving a bottle of champagne, two flutes and a card as his mark. He hoped they realised that it was really only him and one or two others who had known their fate as they had danced their complicated steps around each other, doing their best to keep what was happening away from the water cooler and failing miserably. It had become a stale joke that should the power go again in the lab, Stella could simply plug her machinery into Flack and Angell instead.

He pulled the door behind him as he left, leaving the building and heading into the autumn air, the sky bright yellow as the sun sang the day’s swan-song, darkening clouds punctuating the scene. He stopped for a second, moving out of the way of impatient passers-by, looking at the faces, the days they had had, the lives.

He stopped, and he watched.

Please review!

I do hope to write some one shots, especially after reading the reviews for 4.20!!