Subj: Consequences of Falling ch. 65 (conclusion)
Date: 8/17/01 3:31:28 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Nicole

Two years later, Garden, 5:00 PM

The air had finally began to ease up. The humidity had been killer this day, leaving Constance and Quentin to remain inside most of the day, lying in bed and soaking up more air conditioning than they should. But by 4:00, the density began to break and the air finally became tolerable. Constance now sat up in the hammock, her legs crossed at the ankles. Quentin lay right behind her, his legs hanging off the hammock and his hands playing with the thin straps of her tank top. In her lap lay today's mail, mostly inquiries for her to play again. No one seemed to accept that she had retired to live a quiet life with her lover. The rest were letters from friends.

Angelique had married Andrew a year ago. Two months after the wedding she gave birth to a son, Griffin. Constance hated to admit it but she knew that the marriage would not last. As much as Angelique claimed that she wanted a "normal" man, she knew that she would not be able to handle one. Somehow, she has kept Andrew completely in the dark about her powers. Constance knew that Angelique was afraid that Griffin had inherited some of her powers. As it stood now, the boy seemed to be a normal child. For his sake, Constance hoped her would remain that way.

Cameron and Kelene continued to live in her apartment. She should just sign it over to them. Cameron had discovered Constance's camera equipment the moment he moved in. After much cajoling, she gave it to him for a belated Christmas gift. The moment he figured out how to work it all, he went on a photo spree, documenting everything from the mundane to the miraculous. The photographs documenting the development of Kelene and young Jason were truly extraordinary. Those pictures has recently been displayed in a gallery, all of them being scooped up at high prices. Cameron could not understand why anyone would want to buy pictures of another man's life. He did not understand his talent. Constance was convinced that the boy would never grow up. It was one of his more enduring traits.

Julia kept a busy love life. After a three month fling, she tossed Hunter to the side. The poor boy was in love with her but she only saw him as a plaything, a well built boy made solely for her pleasure. This was the only man Constance knew by name. Julia sent her numerous photographs of her many beaus, most of them rather handsome, and, from what Julia said about them, highly intellectual. She liked being able to talk out her theories with them and then get naughty for the rest of the night. She wondered how Barnabas dealt with all the men who traipsed in and out of what was technically his house. He probably stewed over every man but refused to say a word to Julia about them. What could he say? Julia was going to do as she pleased.

Constance rarely heard from Chris. He seemed well when they spoke ut she could tell that he was lost. As Julia had said, the injections had not worn off. They probably never would. It seemed that Chris had yet to accept that his life might be indefinitely prolonged. He literally drifted from town to town, studying the nuisances of the local scenes and writing down his insights in the numerous notebooks that filled his trunk. Constance had flipped through some of the books and found his writing good. She hoped he would be trimming these stories, these ideas down into something more coherent. Constance believed that Chris had potential. He only needed to cultivate it. She understood that he was in limbo but she knew that he would not recover if he did not help himself. She wished Chris luck. It was all she could do for him.

Constance soon tossed the letters to the side and picked up her own notebook, staring down at the small jot list she had been working on for days. As for herself, Constance believed herself to be happy. She and Quentin had found a new house by the ocean, this one furtherer from the sea than the first, but it was larger and offered a better view of the uninhabited island next door. They had lived in this home for almost two years. She had announced her retirement abruptly, angering her management and disappointing fans. She released all live material to be pressed and paid off her associates. In her mind, no one had the right to complain. They had their lives and now it was time for her to work on hers.

"Quentin, tell me how this sounds: Rebecca Anne?"

"Too plain," yawned Quentin.

"You're right," concurred Constance. "How about Germainne Corinne?"

"It doesn't sound right."

"I know. This is harder than I thought it would be. Okay: Gwynneth Elise?"

Quentin was silent for a moment. "I really like that. It's the best so far. Do you have anything else?"

"Nope," sighed Constance. "You?"

"I like that best." Quentin carefully grabbed her shoulders and brought her down to him. "It's really nice. What's the other name?"

"Um...William Noel."

"I like it. All the bases are covered now."

Constance listened to go on. She could fall asleep again. She had been sleeping more but the doctor said that might happen. She only came back into this world when his hand grazed by her growing belly. She had been as surprised as him when she found out that they had conceived so quickly after rediscovery. It truly did not matter to her. They were both excited. Quentin had never had a chance to be with his first children. They both saw this as a kind of second chance. Constance had kept the ring so that the child could be cured once born. Then again, the doctor had warned her that there could be twins. Double trouble once again.

"Shh," she whispered. He looked at her sadly until she said, "I can't kiss you if you want shut up." He smiled and kissed her, careful in the way he handled her. Constance thought that he feared she would break now. "Are you okay now?"

"I'm fine. I was fine before." Quentin became silent once again, furrowing his brows as he stared at her. "Do you worry about what he told you?"

"Well, it can't see why it wouldn't be different. This is species mixing, darling. Something's going to be a little weird. As long as it's able to control itself, everyone will be fine."

"I don't so much worry about that as about someone like Avery taking on that whole world's savior bit," sighed Quentin.

Constance could understand. She had decided to go into seclusion until the child was born. She was not risking anything this time around. "I do, but if this kid is supposed to be as powerful as they claim, then it can take care of itself...eventually. Listen: I think this will all be fine. Right now, nothing will happen. We're all right. Okay?"

"Okay," whispered Quentin. He kissed her forehead and cuddled her closer to him. "Are you happy here? Is this the way we ought to go?"

"I'm happy now," said Constance, "and this is one of the few places we have left to go. You're not afraid, are you?"

"I'm scared shitless."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one."

Quentin laughed and wrapped her closer. "You're impossible."

"Would you love me if I wasn't?"

"I think I'd love you no matter what. Being impossible only makes you more relatable to me."

Constance only sighed. She still loved being so close to Quentin. She enjoyed it all the more because she knew she had him now. No one was going to stand in her way.

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.