Ok, last chapter, and it is kinda short, kinda bad. Vacation was nice...for about five days...then the last two, I was banging my head against the wall, bored out of my mind, and read three books, 250 pages of small print GonewiththeWind, part of a horrible romance novel I found in a children's bookcase that my grandma had left. After a week of no yaoi, hetero sounded bettero than nothing, but my biggest complaint was that she didn't have a florida...

They walked hand in hand on the sidewalk, heading back to the psychic shop to gather Alfred's things and thank the old woman for taking care of Alfred.

"Did you love Sarah?" Arthur had some questions still on his mind, and while still feeling waves of joy flooding over him, found them tugging at his mind.

Alfred snorted, his eyes narrowing. "God no, I just couldn't…couldn't bare being alone anymore, knowing there was someone out there, someone to laugh with, someone to hold, someone to spend my life with, and I tried to force Sarah into that mold, even though I knew the whole time that I didn't love her, and she was in love with my body. When I…last night, when we…I only had thoughts for you…and now, now I'm so ashamed for what I've done, I can't…why do you still stand there…after all I've done to hurt you?"

Arthur watched the quick change from overjoyed relief to self-resentment and hate, watching his lover dim, and quickly squeezed his hand. "I forgave you the moment I heard your voice in the airport, I forgave you the night you told me about that wish, I would forgive you of anything, of everything, but there is no way I will ever leave your side again. Can you forgive me for giving up on you?"

Alfred looked down at his Brit, and smiled. "Arthur, I've nothing to forgive, I would have understood if you'd left me that day at the farmer's market, I just want you happy." He turned to look up at the sky, and his smile widened. "We need to dance more often, but I regret missing that kiss…"

"Well, bend down, you git, and I'll fix that!"

As they entered the shop, they found Madame LaRose sitting behind the curtain.

"Well, I see you have made up fine and dandy. Now, I need that room back if you don't mind, my granddaughter is coming for a visit, and I just might convince her to stay awhile." Alfred gave the woman a hug, and raced up the stairs, and Arthur thanked her over and over for what she'd done.

"Like I told Alfred, I was only repaying you for the help you gave me getting started all those years ago. And Charlotte will finally be at rest, just as soon as you do what you must with the journal."

They left with a bit of teary goodbyes, and Arthur's phone rang once they were back in Arthur's hastily abandoned hotel room.

Alfred picked it up from the table and read the caller ID. Matthew Williams. He smiled, and opened the phone.

"Arthur! Where are you? Your people say you've booked a flight for England, please, what's wrong? Is it Alfred?"

"Yes, this is Alfred. Matthew, bro, you need to cool your jets, Arthur isn't going nowhere. He's not leaving his hotel room, that's for sure." Arthur shot him a look, and caught the smug smile on Alfred's face.

"Al? AL! Oh My God! Alfred!"

"Mattie, no more maple coffee for you!" Alfred smiled as his brother started to ramble on and on over the phone before he heard people gathering around the line.

"Who is it, Birdie?"

"Mon Matthieu, to whom are you speaking?"

"Canada, is America-san on the phone?"

Alfred smiled, talking to most in turn, before finally hanging up at the look on Arthur's face as he sat down in the American's lap.

"My turn to greet you, luv."

Alfred was glad to be back.

They buried the journal next to a soldier's grave, a Sgt. Stuart Milton, of the confederate army. There were no words left in it now, and the book had started to rapidly decay, but it was as if it were Charlotte's body finally being laid to rest next to the true love of her life, and Alfred smiled as he hugged Arthur close, breathing in the smell of grass after the rain and tea. She had made them infinitely closer, their fighting more of a discussion, their arguments full of sarcasm and laughter. And Alfred treasured every day of it.

He'd been truly lucky to have found his way to the Psychic shop, and wondered if Charlotte had anything to do with it, and now he visited every time he was in New York.

They walked away from the battlefield hand in hand, towards a life Alfred would never wish away.

Remember Me…


END! Ok, thanks to: CherryFlamingo, CarolXchan, Death-Sama01, british-pudding, yoong, Hitsu4HinaEva -Hari-Sama, InsaneNicEly, HikariKegawaAshi, Alphine, Eternally1Yours, always-orange-and-blue...and everyone whose been reading, alerting, favoriting, reviewing or whatever else this story. it's sad to let these stories go, this being my second one to finish, but it is time to bury the hatchet.

Fun Fact: Indian Tribes would bury a hatchet when two tribes would make peace from fighting.

Fun Fact (submitted by InsaneNicEly): A typical pencil can write 45,000 words or draw a line 35 miles long.

Fun Fact (submitted by Death-Sama01): Letter 'c' does not appear anywhere in the spellings (spelling each number)of the entire English counting.

Fun Fact (submitted by CarolXchan): Shoe laces were invented in England in 1790.

THANKS FOR EVERYTHING AND STICKING WITH ME! LURVE YOU ALL! If you have any questions or simply want to say anything, just PM me! I have already posted my next story, an AU fic, the Lion and the Wizard, USUK, RUSCAN, so, I'll be busy. Bye Y'all!