Disclaimer: Ron, Sandy and "Junior" Bass belong to themselves and the Heisman Trophy to whoever won it last. This chapter is named after the 1967 song by Cream (Eric Clapton's old group). I only own Tamsin and Diana.

Oh, and I also own Kip Pardue…he just doesn't know it yet ;)

Author's Notes: Finally, this story is over! I'm tremendously relieved that I finally got to write (and finish!) a plot that's been kicking around in my head for about ten years; but at the same time sad to see it end. Ronnie and Tamsin were fun to write. Fortunately, they won't leave me alone, so they're bound to show up in my other RtT fics in one form or another. I hope you'll watch out for those, once I have them posted…whenever that will be!

I must warn you, though, that this part is very short. I didn't have trouble writing it; I was just waiting for a good time to post it. The chance seems to have passed me by, but what the heck…

Epilogue — Sunshine of Your Love

Finally.

She hoisted herself up the last few steps and placed a hand on her big belly to calm the child moving about within. After blinking and taking a few deep breaths to clear the spots flashing before her eyes, she zeroed in on her husband, who was sitting on the dusty attic floor amid heaps of junk. An open packing box — apparently the source of all the junk — sat in front of him.

He looked up, saw her, and smiled. The sunlight streaming in through the skylight glinted off his hair. "Hi there."

"Hi." She waddled toward him, one hand supporting her lower back. Recognizing the signs of a pregnant woman in distress, her husband reached for her, knowing fingers searching out the kinks in her overburdened muscles. She hissed sharply when he dug into a particularly tight spot, then relaxed when the tension dissipated. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he replied, punctuating the massage with an affectionate pat on her bottom. The caress elicited a blush from her that made him chuckle.

"Have you found anything?"

He beamed proudly. "Sure did. I found lots of great stuff."

She inspected the large pile nearest her. There were footballs smudged with faded signatures, tattered paperbacks, old jerseys and pennants. "I'm sure we'll get great prices for these," she said approvingly. The charm on her bracelet tinkled as she pawed through the pile.

"Oh, no, we're not selling that. This is the 'to go' pile." Her husband gestured to the much smaller pile of random odds and ends on his right.

Her dark eyes widened. "You're keeping all of this junk and letting go of just that?"

"Hey, this junk is important." He put a proprietary hand on her belly and laughed in delighted when, as if on cue, the baby responded with a mighty kick that made its mother grunt. "Junior will need it if he wants to win the Heisman someday."

His wife rolled her eyes. "You called the first one 'Junior,' too," she reminded him, "and look at how she turned out."

"Speaking of the first one, is Sandy asleep?" he asked, referring to the golden-haired little girl who had been running through the house just moments before, refusing to take a nap and driving her mother to distraction.

"Yes," his wife replied, sounding tremendously relieved. "Haven't you noticed how quiet it is?"

He cocked his head to one side, pretending to listen hard. "My God, I think you're right."

She laughed and turned her attention back to heap of things that her husband intended to keep. In addition to the football memorabilia, there were also old photographs, several tattered paperbacks, a plastic fishbowl castle and a crumpled paper bag that proved to be full of candy wrappers. "What are you doing with all of this, anyway?" she exclaimed. "I can't believe you kept so much junk in the first place!"

Ron Bass favored his wife with his winning grin. "I kept everything that reminded me of you."

Tamsin Lee-Bass narrowed her eyes at him. Even after all these years, she was still no match for that smile. "All right, all right, let's move on to the next box."

A month and a half later, Ron and Tamsin Bass welcomed their second child, Diana Elizabeth. "Junior" was born four years later. The family lives in South Carolina.

THE END