Happily Ever Endgame
Emily and Alison are lounging in a hammock together, the sound of the ocean waves pounding on the beach just a few feet away. Alison is kissing her way down Emily’s neck while Emily runs a leisurely hand through Alison’s hair.
“Get a room,” Spencer says, tossing an ice cube at them good naturedly. She’s wearing sunglasses and a giant white brimmed floppy sun hat and reading in a lounge chair just a few feet away.
“What are you reading?” Aria asks, curiously.
“A Victorian romance novel,” Spencer laughs. “I picked it up at the airport. I feel like I might never have another serious thought again.”
“Is that so bad?” Hanna asks, sprawled out on her towel in the pristine white sand.
“I have them!” Mona trills, running over with a stack of newspapers in hand. She sits down on her own towel, spread so close to Hanna’s that they overlap a little, and spreads the papers out over Hanna’s back.
“Am I your girlfriend, or a coffee table?” Hanna teases.
“Neither!” Mona says, delightedly. “It’s official! You’re my gal pal! Or I’m your gal pal! We made Page Six!” She folds the section over and passes it to Hanna. “It’s a great picture,” she adds. “You have the most perfect hair on the planet, and I would say that even if I wasn’t completely in love with you.”
“Can I see?” Aria asks, as Hanna passes the paper back to her. “Fashionista Rising,” she reads. “Hanna Marin, New York’s hot young designer dejour, locks lips with her hot young gal pal, political dynamo Mona Vanderwaal at JFK. Word on the street says these two are headed to an assignation on a private island for some extended fun in the sun.”
“I never get tired of hearing those words together,” Alison muses.
“Gal pal?” Emily asks.
“Private island,” Alison replies.
“Hey,” Aria says, “There’s a picture of your mom, Em. Coming out of the sentencing hearing.”
“She told me she was going,” Emily nods, taking a sip of a pink drink. She pulls out the cocktail umbrella and eats a cherry, then feeds a second one to Alison.
“But look at how she’s looking at Barry Maple,” Spencer comments. “Looks like the sparks are flying to me!”
“She’s been seeing him a little,” Emily confirms. “But let’s not talk about sparks, okay? She’s my mother. She doesn’t do sparks.”
“Believe what you want,” Hanna says. “I think it looks like Pam’s getting down with her bad self. Or Barry’s bad self. Whichever.”
“And could you maybe not call her by her first name?” Emily asks, as Hanna laughs a full throated laugh full of happiness.
“Speaking of moms, my parents have followed up their quick remarriage with an even quicker redivorce.”
“Is that a word?” Mona asks.
“Language is mutable,” Spencer tells her.
“Why did she marry him, anyway?” Alison wonders.
“She saw him taking Charlotte’s pulse after she was on the ground,” Aria explains. “She thought he killed her to protect me and might need an alibi. But since he didn’t kill her, and she’s not actually dead - I guess the magic was gone.”
“I hear Ella has some sparks of her own flying,” Alison says, in the tone she always reserves for sharing secrets. “She’s been spending some time getting veeeery friendly with Scott Montgomery.”
“He’s helped Mike a lot,” Mona nods. “He’s back on the right medications again.”
“If they get married, Charlotte will be my cousin and my step-sister,” Aria says. “And Alison would be my step-sister’s sister, and Spencer is her brother’s other sister….”
“It’s like on Days,” Hanna shrugs. “Everyone’s related to everyone. As long as no one’s getting killed, it’s one big happy.”
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Melissa and Charlotte are walking back from the tennis courts, sweaty and smiling.
“You’re infuriating,” Melissa says, swatting Charlotte with her racket. “You totally let me win on that last shot.”
“Maybe,” Charlotte admits. “You Hastings are so cutthroat, I knew it would make you crazy.”
“We have to play something else now,” Melissa insists. “Croquet. Or bocce. Or poker.”
“You’re not the boss here,” Charlotte replies. “This is my island. I’m in charge.”
“It should be part mine,” Melissa counters. “You were earning interest on my money while I was helping you. Providing you with unpaid labor while you were playing the stock market with my trust fund.”
“I doubled your already vast fortune,” Charlotte retorts. “And the interest was minimal. Rates are low. It was like, five hundred dollars. Which wouldn’t buy an island. But I tell you what - you can pick out a tree!”
“You’re impossible,” Melissa huffs. Then her tone gets serious. “So the sentencing was today.”
Charlotte nods. “Lorenzo cut a deal at the last minute. He rolled on everyone. They got Ted and Sean and Toby for conspiracy and kidnapping and 214 counts of attempted murder. Consecutive life sentences, no chance of parole.”
“It’s finally over,” Melissa remarks, sitting down on a shady bench and taking a long drink of water.
Charlotte snaps her fingers and a butler appears, wearing white shorts and a pink polo shirt and a very grumpy expression.
“You can’t just snap your fingers for me,” Sara Harvey complains. “It’s rude.”
“I could get a little bell,” Charlotte says, consideringly. “Would you like that better?”
“Could you get us two glasses of champagne?” Melissa asks. “And see if there’s a chessboard anywhere?”
Sara stomps off towards the old hotel that Charlotte is renovating into a luxurious living complex.
“Do you ever worry she’ll kill you in your sleep?” Melissa asks.
“Not really,” Charlotte shrugs. “She lacks initiative. Her big plan for the future is finding a rich husband. She was making moon eyes at Jason when he was down here last month. And I think she might have caught Wren’s eye a bit, when he was here.”
“A naked beetle could catch Wren’s eye.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Please. I liked him better when I thought he might be evil.”
Charlotte nods. “Remember when we were in the runaway SUV?”
“I do.”
“Why did you switch places with me?”
Melissa takes another drink of water. “Because I had the best chance of stopping the car.”
“Not because you were afraid they were going to smash the driver’s side into a tree to try and kill me again?”
“Okay fine,” Melissa says, rolling her eyes. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. It doesn’t mean you have to make a big deal.”
Charlotte leans over and kisses her, their lips meeting with an almost electric charge. Melissa grabs the neck of Charlotte’s tennis shirt and pulls her closer. They’re so wrapped up in each other, they don’t even notice when Sara Harvey slams the bottle of champagne down in the sand next to them.
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The sun is starting to set, casting a brilliant orange glow over the turquoise water. Spencer is sitting at the outdoor bar with Aria, watching the sailboats head into the horizon.
“Could I have another Mai-Tai, please?” Spencer asks Sara Harvey as she stomps towards them.
“Although Cavenaugh originally claimed that he helped Charlotte DiLaurentis fake her own death to evade her would-be murderers, the evidence given by Lorenzo Calderon proved he had merely been confused about who he was supposed to be taking orders from,” Aria reads from the newspaper.
“Yvonne dumped him like a hot potato,” Spencer says. “She emailed me last week.”
“Why?” Aria asks, surprised.
“She moved to DC,” Spencer says.
“No,” Aria says. “No. Do not even tell me-”
“Yup,” Spencer says, stirring her drink. “She’s been spending time with Caleb.” She chuckles. “Life is funny, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Aria agrees, pointing down the hill towards the tennis courts, where Charlotte and Melissa are practically horizontal on a bench together. “Took them long enough.”
“Not as long as those two,” Spencer says, nodding towards the hammock where Emily and Alison are kissing lazily, Emily resting a hand in the back pocket of Alison’s tight denim shorts.
“Or them, I guess,” Aria says, watching as Hanna and Mona stop swimming and start kissing passionately in the deeper water a few feet from shore.
“It’s romantic here,” Spencer says, twirling the ice in her glass a little nervously.
“Very romantic,” Aria agrees. “Can I have a sip of that?”
Spencer slides the drink over, a small smile playing across her face.
“I’ve been thinking about Toby,” Aria announces. “No, wait. Not about him, really. About what he said. About us.”
“About how half of our high school thought we were sleeping together?”
“I’ve just been wondering - why would they think that?”
“Hmmm…” Spencer says, pondering the question. “Maybe because we spent so much time together.”
“Well, we enjoy each others company,” Aria says. “Your company is my favorite kind of company. It always has been.”
“Or maybe it was because we were always so in sync,” Spencer suggests, running her fingers slowly over the back of Aria’s hand.
“That’s what happens,” Aria says, a little breathily. “When you know someone so well. You can anticipate their wants. Finish each others-”
“Sentences,” Spencer concludes, moving a little closer. “You’re right. Maybe they just thought we fit together,” she says, her voice almost a whisper. “Like spoons.”
Aria grins as she wraps a hand around Spencer’s neck and pulls their mouths together.
Spencer kisses back intensely, exploring Aria’s mouth with her tongue, tangling a hand in Aria’s hair and then stroking the back of her neck in a way that makes Aria moan.
Aria breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against Spencer’s.
“I’m little spoon,” she says.
“You’re little,” Spencer says, as the sunset casts a pink glow over Aria’s dark hair. “But you’re big.”
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Alison is still in the hammock, her body stretched out on top of Emily’s. She’s resting her head on Emily’s chest, listening to the crashing of the waves and the steady beat of Emily’s heart.
“This is the life,” she says, luxuriating in the feel of Emily’s skin against hers, the coconut smell of her sunscreen, the way they’re pressed so close together it feels like nothing is ever going to come between them again. She moves her head enough to graze a kiss along Emily’s jawline. “How long can we stay like this?”
Emily kisses Alison’s earlobe, runs a hand up her spine in a way that makes Ali shiver in spite of the heat. She looks into Alison’s eyes and smiles as she pulls the ring out of her pocket.
“How about forever?”