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Sophie pulled back a little. “Babies?” she asked.

Tilly snorted. “Only if you get a lot more practice. You weren’t exactly a natural with Art, you know?”

Sophie laughed. “Fair. I’m not sure about the whole baby thing.”

“Then we’ll adopt an older child. Or we’ll have cats or dogs or llamas instead.”

“Llamas?”

“Llamas,” Tilly confirmed.

Sophie let herself be pulled in close again, let herself feel Tilly’s scratchy uniform against her cheek, smell Tilly’s familiar smell, let herself feel Tilly’s heartbeat. “I love you.”

Tilly tilted her head. “I love you too,” she said, brushing Sophie’s lips with her own.

“Song, song!” shouted Sylv. Billy was already sitting at the piano in the corner, Ag perched on the bench with her.

“Fancy a sing?” Tilly asked.

“With you?” said Sophie. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Music curled into the air late into the night in a little town called Whitebridge. It wasn’t until after midnight that a newly minted sergeant led her soon-to-be garage owner girlfriend home by the hand. It took another year before they adopted a cat. Then a dog. And five years before Sophie finally decided that a baby might not be so bad. Especially if Tilly was the one having it. They sang in the choir and Sophie opened a car parts shop that ran alongside the garage. Tilly became a Chief Superintendent, just like her dad. They never did get a llama though...