A/N: This is it, guys.
Thanks so much to Michelle Renker Rhodes for helping me out on this journey.
All characters belong to S. Meyer.
Chapter Song Rec: Get your R&B groove on kiddies: Every Time I Close My Eyes by Babyface
Epilogue – Nella Gioia…
We drove through the wooded roads in a silence that was eerily complimented by the dark, moonless night. For a long stretch, the headlights were our only guide before a street lamp finally popped up ahead. Edward didn't turn the radio on; he never did when he was in one of these moods, and as much as I ached to reach out and turn it on just to spite him, I needed to prove a point - that I could be as adult and level-headed as he. Blasting the radio would probably go against that point. Sticking my tongue out at him probably wouldn't be a good idea either because though his eyes were on the road, jaw locked tight, breathing even and measured, I could feel the scathing sideways glances he kept giving me. I could see them because I was giving him the same.
"Not as stealth as you think you are, mister," I muttered internally. Then again, I probably wasn't either.
It was a short drive anyway - about four and a half minutes – a fact Hoverer just loved. Fine, I'll admit I didn't mind it either. Even as angry as I was – and I was pretty pissed off here, mind you – the pretty little house with the white stucco siding and the limestone elevation still made me sigh whenever it came into view. Mine. Mine and Edward's. Always.
Even if I did want to choke the ever-living shit out of him right now.
He circled into our driveway, slow and precise while I tapped my foot deliberately against the car floor. As soon as he put the car on park, I opened the door and let myself out, hearing him huff behind me. What - was I supposed to sit and let him open the door for me after what had just transpired? My satin heels click-clacked loudly up the driveway, echoing through the wooded landscape. I bent down and pulled them off my feet, flinging them against the wall when I entered the garage. They were fucking ugly shits anyway.
Okay, so adult and level-headed was quickly going out the window.
Before I totally lost it and turned around and flipped him off, I made my way into the house without a backwards glance, up the center staircase, letting my hair down and shaking it loose from side to side as I walked through the double doors to our bedroom and straight into the walk-in closet. Edward's footsteps, steady and purposeful, resounded up the stairs and headed my way. I reached behind me to undo the ridiculously huge and lacy dress and did my own huffing and puffing when the darn clasp wouldn't open. When I felt Edward's hands on me, I swatted them away, too furious to accept his help - even if I did need it. I could feel his eyes on me as I struggled and grinned wickedly to myself when the clasp finally came undone and the zipper slid all the way down, exposing the pretty white lace bra and thong and thigh highs I'd worn just for him but which he wouldn't be touching tonight. Out of my periphery I saw him lean against the door frame, his bow-tie hanging loose around his neck, the top buttons on his shirt undone. He raked a hand through his hair, eyes resting intently on me and my ass.
That's right, mister. They're your favorite pair, and you're not getting inside them tonight. Yeah, I've said that before, but I mean it this time!
I reached up and snatched an empty hanger, draping the dress over it, but the damn thing slid off. Groaning, I bent down to pick it up, pulling and pushing this way and that and trying to make the damn thing stay on while Edward removed his own shirt and tux jacket and hung them up easily enough on one of his own hangers; ditto the tie. Of course, Mister Perfect. I stomped my foot when my dress slid off the hanger yet again.
"Are we going to talk about this or are you just going to continue abusing your wardrobe?"
"Oh, now you want to talk?" With one final stomp I gave up on the dress and flung it to the floor, crossing my arms in front of myself and turning my back to him again.
Petulant? Maybe. But I wasn't sure I could face him without collapsing into a mess of tears.
"Yes, Bella," he said in a deceivingly calm tone, "now I want to talk. I'm sorry if I didn't feel that Alice and Jasper's wedding was the appropriate venue for the type of discussion you wanted to have."
"I just wanted you to know what I'd decided!" I hissed.
"It would've been nice to know you were even considering it!" he hissed right back. "You can't make a decision like that in one night, Bella, or on your own!"
Now I did whip around to face him, anger and more than a little hurt burning a hole throughout my body so badly I almost didn't care that he was standing there shirtless or that the sharp 'v' of his well-toned abs looked so nice and prominent. I could feel my fury multiplying; the hot flush crawling up my throat, up to my face because he had no right to look that good when I was so irritated with him.
"I didn't decide this in one night, Edward, give me some credit here! I didn't tell you that I was thinking about it because I didn't want to get your hopes up, but I sure as hell didn't think I was making this decision on my own! I thought it was what you wanted all along!"
His nostrils flared, green eyes blazing in that kegelicious way that still kept my pelvic muscles nice and strong. I closed my eyes for two seconds.
Damn it, Bella, you're mad at him! You're mad at him therefore you cannot jump his bones right now!
"You should've discussed it with me, Bella!" he bellowed. "We should've talked about it regardless of what you thought I wanted! What about the months we've spent getting ready to foster a child? I thought you wanted that? I thought we'd agreed we both wanted that?"
"THAT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, EDWARD!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, fisting my hair. I sat down heavily in the soft black leather chair, making myself hold his gaze. "It's been over a year since we started the application process. We've been to all the trainings. We received our certifications. But they haven't called," I whispered, my voice shaky despite my attempts to regain some control here. "It's not going to happen. I should've known they wouldn't give someone with my background a foster child." I shook my head and looked away from him.
I felt more than saw him walk towards me, the heat of his proximity already soothing me, and when he dropped to his knees and picked up my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, I let out a long, heavy breath through narrowed lips because no matter how upset I ever felt, one touch from him, and the world was better. One caress, and I was alive again. He gazed at my hand for a few seconds before bringing his mouth down and kissing it softly, his lips moving back and forth along the ring on my finger.
"That's a goddamned crime because they're denying some kids someone so loving and wonderful."
When he looked up and smiled at me, I smiled back.
"Doctor's wife or not, I guess I'm just not perfect enough," I grinned wryly.
He cupped my chin firmly in his hand. "Don't do that, Bella. Don't run from me or try to hide your pain. I promised you I'd always do my best to be here for you whether you're happy or sad, didn't I? You don't have to be perfect. We don't have to be perfect. This isn't a fairy tale; this is our lives - ours. You and I, we're in this together. 'Nella gioia e nel dolore,' remember?" he smiled gently. "Always."
"Nella gioia e nel dolore," I nodded, remembering that night a little over eighteen months ago…
We were in the middle of a whirlwind ten day European tour. Edward had taken us for our anniversary – well, the anniversary of when he'd made that crazy proposal, and I'd decided to stick around. Still, that proposal, regardless of how inane, had weaved our lives together - our fate. It was cause to celebrate.
The warm summer night had all the tourists fanning themselves with their city maps, and as we stood in front of the Trevi fountain, the overhead lights illuminated the statue of Neptune, god of the sea, in a breathtaking yellow glow. The sparkling waters of the fountain looked so tempting, flowing from rock to rock.
Edward dug anxiously through his pockets, looking for change to throw into the fountain because legend had it that it would assure us a return to Rome. My eyes traveled from him to the fountain and back, all the while swinging my finger back and forth along the ring hanging from my necklace.
And then it hit me.
I spent all day, every day, doing this; playing with my ring, rolling it around my finger. Why wasn't it just on my finger, if that's where I really wanted it to be anyway? Why was I letting an old fear rule my new life? Edward had promised that he would always do his best to be there for me and so far he had and I knew that he'd continue to indefinitely. I loved him. He loved me. It was that simple.
And so while he'd hunted through his pockets, I'd hummed a happy tune to myself and unclasped my pretty feathers and shells necklace, taken the ring off, and placed it on my finger, holding it up and admiring the way it caught and reflected the lights from the fountain.
"Ah!" Edward had looked up, triumphantly holding a couple of gold-trimmed coins between two fingers. It was almost comical the way his jaw dropped, eyes growing wide when he'd seen me holding up my own finger proudly.
"Yeah?" he'd grinned from ear to ear.
"Yeah," I'd answered with my own huge grin.
He'd swallowed thickly. "Now?"
I'd chuckled at the way his voice shook, full of barely restrained anxiousness. "Sure, why not?"
We'd run into the first church we'd found – not a difficult search in Rome – where Edward had explained to the priest that we wanted to get married. For what had felt like hours, they'd argued in quick Italian until at one point Edward had placed his right hand on his chest.
"Padre, mi ha preso tre anni per convincerla a mettere l'anello al dito. Tre anni! Ho bisogno di sposarla subito! Giuro davanti a Dio che io, Edward Cullen, non sono sposato. Non sono mai stato sposato e non ha né lei, Isabella Swan. E ci amiamo profondamente. I swear it."
The priest had finally thrown his hands up in the air, glaring between the both of us. "Impatient Americani! You wait three years, you can wait five more minuti while I at least google you!" he'd snapped, and then quickly walked to the back of the church.
"But will he do it?" I'd asked Edward, shaking with excitement.
"I think he just might," Edward had grinned smugly. But then he'd turned grave eyes my way. "Bella, are you sure?"
I'd wrapped my arms around his neck. "Uber-sure."
We'd kissed – kind of inappropriately if I had to be honest considering we were in a church – and then someone had cleared their throat loudly behind us and we'd looked over and into the eyes of the priest.
"Siete pronti? Are you ready?" he'd asked.
We'd both nodded.
"Very well. But please remember that while you will be married in the eyes of God, this is not legally binding. You will have to make it official in your country."
And we did. Nella gioia e nel dolore. In joy and in sorrow.
"I honestly didn't understand half of the vows I was making," I smirked now in the present, playing with my ring.
Edward narrowed his eyes.
"Just kidding." I smiled softly and then sighed. "You've kept all your promises, Edward. The ones you made that night, and the ones you promised in front of that bus in Cali. You're always here for me, even when I'm a pain in the ass. You don't let me hide or run away from things." I kissed him once on the lips. "You love me and honor me every day, in joy and in sorrow. It is as close to fairy-tale as it can get."
He grinned up at me tenderly.
"I'm sorry, you were right," I acknowledged, "I should've spoken to you, but it still doesn't change the fact that I want this…"
Edward looked down and sighed – a long, tired sigh.
"If you just don't think I'm ready-"
That was when he grabbed me by my shoulders and brought me down to the cream-carpeted floor with him, eyes burning again. "Bella, I've known you've had it in you to be the best at this since the first time I saw you with Brady; the way you hold him and play with him, nurturing and fun all at once. But I know it's something that frightens you-"
"I got past my marriage fears, didn't I? I even let your parents throw us that wedding – which was pretty over the top I must say. I know I can do this, Edward," I pleaded. "You've made me feel safe; you've helped me believe in a future I never thought I could have. You've allowed me to want things I never thought I should want."
He wrapped his hands around my face. "Bella, I just want to be sure that you want these things for you, not because you think they're what I want."
I wrapped my hands around his. "Well, don't you want this? Don't you want to look into a tiny little face and see bits of both you and me in it? I see the way you hold Brady too, and his baby sister. I see the way you look at Jake's little boy. Don't you want to hold one and know that you and I made it with our love, with this crazy passion that we have?" I grinned through my ache. "You told me once, a long time ago up on the cliffs, that you wanted children. Don't you want them anymore? Don't you want them…with me?"
Even before the words were completely out he took one of my hands and placed it over his heart. "Feel that? My heart's about to race out of my chest, Bella."
It was beating like crazy.
He gripped my other hand tightly in his. "Do you feel how I'm shaking? It's because I want this so badly. I want nothing more than to look into a little girl's eyes and see the same wild sparkle I see in yours, or a little boy's face and see your impish grin. But you have to want it for you, Bella, not just for me."
"Is that what you think?" I smiled. His eyes searched mine anxiously. "Edward, as much as I love you, I would never bring a child into this world just to make you happy. I want this, Edward. I want this for me. For us. Yes, I'm still a bit…scared," I confessed, "I won't try to deny it. But I know I can tackle this final fear, as long as you're with me. I know it's something you and I can figure out together." I took his hand and placed it on my lips, kissing it softly; imploringly.
But the thing was, as always, Edward had apparently just been concerned for me.
He nodded vehemently now, and I could feel his excitement growing.
"I have thought about it, Bella. Just in case, you know," he said, sort of sheepishly. "I know what your biggest fear is, love, and while there's nothing we can do to ever completely guarantee that nothing ever happens to us, we can make sure that our children will always have family to watch over them, to take care of them if it becomes necessary."
"How?" I asked.
"We can put who exactly will be their guardians in case of our passing in our wills. It's what my birth parents did for me, what I'm sure your parents would've done for you had they had any idea…" He looked away from me then. "But you know," he mumbled, "my parents were probably just anal that way - most likely where I get it from."
I chuckled despite the admittedly morose topic of convo. "And my parents were probably as flighty as I am."
"You are not flighty," he said solemnly. "Well, only the tiniest bit," he conceded with a grin. "Forks High School wouldn't entrust you as their student body's guidance counselor otherwise. And we wouldn't be having this conversation."
We held each other's gaze and then I chuckled. "This probably isn't a topic most couples discuss in quite so much detail when deciding to start a family."
"Then that just proves how responsible and well-prepared we are. There's nothing wrong with that," he asserted, refusing to admit how strange this really was.
I bit my lip, thinking through Edward's latest proposal. "Do you think we can add a clause stating who our children's guardians would be in case something would happen to the first set of guardians?"
"I'm sure we could."
"And another set on top of that?"
"If it would make you feel better, yes."
"I'd want Rose and Emmett, and Hoverer and Carlisle, and Alice and Jasper - in that order just because Alice made me wear that god-ugly dress tonight."
He chuckled. "I agree, and I'm sure they will too. We'll talk to them right away."
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Are we really going to do this?"
"You tell me," he arched a brow.
I smirked. "I'm scared and I'm nervous," I admitted, gripping both his hands. He nodded solemnly. "But I'm excited at the same time."
His face broke out into the most glorious grin imaginable, green eyes sparkling. "So am I."
"So what do we do now?"
He smirked at me.
I chuckled. "Yeah?"
"Well, yeah. It's generally the way these things are done." He wrapped his hands around my hips and moved in closer. "Do you have any objections to procreating on the closet floor, Mrs. Cullen? Because with you in this get-up I really doubt I'll make it to the bed."
Eighteen months later, he still got a kick out of calling me his Mrs. - Honestly, I still got a kick out of hearing it.
"No objections at all, Doctor Cullen, especially since you had this pretty, plush carpet put in here." I pulled him down and we fell side by side over the thickly carpeted closet floor, laughing; so different from a few minutes ago when I'd wanted to dismember him. But this was the way we worked. No, it wasn't perfect. We argued sometimes. We yelled and screamed and got it all out. Those moments of anger never lasted long though. They couldn't when we needed each other so much. Plain and simple, it was nella goia e nel dolore.
"Look at that. It looks like you are getting into my panties tonight after all," I snickered.
He grabbed and quickly pulled me over him. "I never thought otherwise," he quipped while cupping my ass and giving it a good smack.
"Ow!" I squealed.
"And I'd hardly call this almost non-existent piece of material a panty," he smirked, running one finger up and down the thin thong.
I reached down and wrapped my hand around his erect cock – hard.
"Ow!" he cried, laughing at the same time. "Careful! Those are your future children in there!"
"Oh my God, they are!" I held his gaze and my heart thumped, full of giddy anticipation for where we were headed – in more ways than one.
"I haven't taken my pill yet tonight!" I sopranoed in my best opera voice.
"That's good," he sang back, grinning crookedly, and put his mouth on mine while his hands played with the seams of my thigh highs. For a long time we kissed and touched and then I straddled him and sat up.
"So we're getting pregnant now?"
"Well, not at this very second," he smirked, chuckling when I flipped his lip. "A couple of things have to connect first and I sure hope I don't have to explain the science behind that to you," he teased. "Actually, it takes on average four to five months of trying for a couple to conceive, and eighty-five percent of couples take up to one year. So it may not happen tonight." He smiled impishly, green eyes glowing. "But you know what they say, 'If at first you don't succeed…'"
"Try and try and try and try again," I breathed huskily, bringing my head down and trailing my tongue down his neck and across his toned chest, feeling him contract under my hands when I started fumbling with his belt. Despite how much I did want this, the enormity of it all still made my hands tremble.
Edward wrapped his big hand around mine. "Relax, love. Chances are we'll still have a few months to get used to the idea before you actually get pregnant."
Two and a half weeks later:
I squatted over the toilet, humming quietly while I made sure I held the stick in my urine stream for at least fifteen seconds.
"Yuck! Darn it!" I sucked my teeth in irritation when I got myself wet despite all my attempts to the contrary. Carefully, I placed the stick on a folded-up paper towel over the sink, and stared at it while I washed my hands and whistled tunelessly.
Patience and delayed gratification - neither had ever been my strong suit. No matter what, I would never be one of those women who walked away for three minutes; who covered their eyes while they waited.
I was the impulsive one; Edward was the level-head. When we were together...
I smiled. Well, we'd soon find out what came out of being together.
She hadn't heard me come in. How could she over the racket she had going on in the kitchen? Pots and pans collided noisily while she moved around in her old Suns jersey, humming and whistling and singing her curious song - which sounded strangely like an out of tune...lullaby? I simply stood there and watched her for a couple of minutes.
"What's going on?" I finally chuckled, moving in to drop my bag over the table.
Bella whirled around and grinned – that beautiful grin of hers – the grin that always got my heart thumping because it usually meant trouble in one form or another.
"Hey, I've got someone for you to meet!"
I sighed, because I was tired, because I'd come home and wanted nothing more than to just relax with my wife, to beg her for one of her massages, and then to make love to her until we fell asleep wrapped around each other. I really didn't feel like meeting anyone.
But the way she grinned…I'd do anything to watch her grin like that for the rest of my life.
"Who?" I smiled, looking around the empty kitchen and beyond. I hadn't seen anyone's car in our driveway.
"Take a seat," she instructed, and then deposited herself on my lap, locking me in her gaze. She took my hand and kissed the tip of all five fingers before placing it on her warm stomach.
"Doctor Edward Anthony Cullen, meet Jamie Cullen."
She had my hair and my eyes, but Jamie was just like her mom from day one. I swear to you, though I know technically it was medically impossible, she looked up at me and laughed when she popped out of her mom – three weeks early. I assume she'd grown bored and impatient in the womb.
Anyway, yes, she laughed - pretty loudly I might add. Bella says she wasn't so much laughing as she was howling, letting us know that she was cold and pissed off and hungry, but she's wrong. Jamie was laughing. No one will ever convince me otherwise. Her grey-green eyes sparkled teasingly; the peach-colored fuzz on her head stood on ends in clumps. She was, bar none, the most glorious baby to have ever been born, and I say that objectively. Little James wrapped her tiny hand around my finger, and I could almost hear her sweet little voice.
"You're in for it now, daddy. Now there're two of us."
As it turned out, I'd unintentionally lied to Bella – time and time again. I'd told her that we didn't have to be perfect.
But now…well now we were.
Late one night a few months later, I convinced Bella to go to bed early and leave me with our three month old daughter. I fed her the breast milk Bella had pumped earlier, which she sucked up eagerly, and then she and I played around on the sofa while the TV droned on in the background. When one of those cheesy commercial jingles came on, her eyes lit up and she started bouncing around on my leg, breathing all excitedly and yup, laughing.
"You want to dance, James?" I grinned, holding her small hands while she went to town, sweet green eyes firmly on mine. Her hair had grown darker in the past few months; peach fuzz had transformed into soft, silky reddish-brown curls. Bella said she got the curls from the first Jamie, as well as the rascal-like gleam in her eyes. It was a statement I didn't contradict because I knew it made her happy to see bits of her brother in our daughter, but really, had she never looked in the mirror?
"Look at me, daddy! Look at me shake it!"
I chuckled while I bounced Jamie higher and higher over my leg and she laughed that impish laugh of hers - right before projectile vomiting all over me.
"Don't ever tell mommy," I whispered while I cleaned her up. She gazed at me through those emerald eyes; laughing again. Always laughing. Just like her mom.
When our bouncing around tired her out she fell asleep, and I carefully placed her in her bassinet in our bedroom, and then hopped in the shower to wash her admittedly funky spit-up off of me.
Bella was sitting up on the bed when I got out; Jamie was still fast asleep for another three hours or so.
My wife looked startled.
"You okay?" I asked.
"We just got a call," she said carefully, "from Social Services…"
The social worker sat us down and explained the horrible situation. The little girl was seven and had been orphaned overnight. She did have family, but they were out of state, and not much was known about their relationship to her. Social Services were trying to contact them, but the little girl needed a place to stay until her situation could be sorted out - one way or another. Then she left the room to go get her.
Bella leaned over to adjust Jamie's blanket over her car seat, making sure she was well-covered.
"Bella, are you sure you still want to do this? Our situation has changed a bit since we applied to be foster parents. You just gave birth a few months ago. I know you're still on maternity leave, but we've got our hands full as it is-"
"Edward," Bella simply said, then looked at me and smiled.
I sighed. "I'll help out as much as I can, you know I will," I raked a hand through my hair, "but though my schedule isn't as crazy as it used to be, it's still hectic, Bella. I just don't want you to be overwhelmed."
"I'll be fine. We'll all be fine."
"How about when it's time for her to go with her family? The first year after giving birth is very volatile, Bella. It takes a while for your hormones and emotions all to settle down. I just don't want you to be hurt when the little girl has to leave."
"Edward, I can handle this. I can handle the emotions. I can handle the work. Besides, I've got you...and your mom. You know she'll help."
"I know, but I'm just not sure that we're at a place right now where this will work…"
The door opened.
I kept my eyes on my wife, gauging her reaction. I wasn't lying when I said I was worried about her, so when her lips trembled and a tear rolled down her cheek, I turned to the social worker, ready to tell her that we were sorry, but that we just couldn't do this at the moment.
And then I saw Maia.
She was small for her age, with peach-colored skin and long dark hair and equally dark eyes, wide and obviously frightened. She stared between Bella and I and the small car seat resting on the table, and then broke into tears. Bella moved to go to her, but I reached her first, kneeling to her eye level and taking her small hand in mine. In my mind's eye I saw my wife as she must've looked and felt as a little girl.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay, sweetheart. I know you're scared, but we're here for you and I promise, everything will be alright. You're safe now."
A few years later, Maia and I were having lunch in the hospital cafeteria. Like her mother, she had a habit of coming to meet me at the hospital; after school, or in between breaks from her part-time job. Sometimes she'd bring batches of her mother's famous PBB&B sandwiches for all the staff, as well as her own interesting creations. Sometimes she'd bring Jamie and Masen with her, and invariably Jamie would break out into song at some point, and my dark-haired and intense son would find some instrument to study or climb, and then Nurse Julia would yell at them through a smiling mouth full of peanut butter, telling them all to stay still and be quiet, that even if there dad was the chief-of-staff, this wasn't a playground.
They were all good kids though, and I say that objectively, even if Jamie and Masen were definitely handfuls. But their big sister Maia could always get them to behave. They worshiped the ground she walked on and she'd teach them life lessons. Every day I'd get an earful of "Daddy, look at what Maia taught me to do..." or "Daddy, Maia says that…"
Much the same way Bella used to worship the first Jamie.
But Maia was always more like me; more cautious, more reserved, though Bella made sure that she never retreated into herself because of what she'd experienced as a little girl – before we became her parents. It was tough for a while there. We had to fight some interesting, heartless characters to keep her. But with a mom like Bella, with a wife like her, well, none of us were allowed to look at the cup as half-empty.
"Things happen sometimes," she'd say, and then look at me and grin. "Life doesn't always work out the way you planned it, but the reality is sometimes so much better than the plan."
She was so right.
So every day I'd come home not knowing what to expect. I'd find the four of them holding an indoor camp adventure, or preparing pancakes, bacon and sausage for dinner, or just dancing and singing around under the stars. My free-spirits.
Anyway, Maia and I were having lunch in the cafeteria, and somehow we got into the discussion of that day, the day we met.
"I was scared, dad, and confused because I wasn't really sure what had happened, but then you knelt down in front of me and took my hand, and I knew that no matter what, I was where I belonged now."
Later that night, lying next to Bella in our bed after finally chasing Maia's boyfriend home and getting Jamie and her dolls and Masen and his trucks in bed, I told her about our conversation. She grinned that beautiful grin of hers and wrapped her hand around mine.
"I know exactly how she felt."
"Padre, mi ha preso tre anni per convincerla a mettere l'anello al dito. Tre anni! Ho bisogno di sposarla subito!Giuro davanti a Dio che io, Edward Cullen, non sono sposato. Non sono mai stato sposato e non ha né lei, Isabella Swan. E ci amiamo profondamente. I swear it.
Father, it's taken me three years to get that ring on her finger. Three years! I need to marry her now! I swear before God that I, Edward Cullen, am not married. I have never been married, and neither has she, Isabella Swan. And we love each other deeply. I swear it.
Okay, we're done. Thanks so much to all of you who took this journey with Quirkella and her Uptightward. Special thanks to all those that reviewed along the way. I know I always say it, but I really do love hearing from you all. Hopefully you'll hit the review button and let me hear from you one last time on this story; let me know what you thought of their HEA. :)
Quick reminder: There's another story on the way, but it'll be a couple of months or so before I start posting. I've got another non-fanfiction-related project in the works, but once that's complete, I plan to return to FF!
If you want to keep in touch, tweet me, or visit me at 'Stories by Pattyrose.' The link is on my profile page.