A/N: This is the ending I wrote, but am not thrilled with it. Humor got lost in the angst. So, I’m posting this ending and some alternates. Presenting: ending number one… (Please leave a review with your thoughts and let me know what you'd like reviewed in return.)

I twirled my third shot of cheap whiskey watching the golden liquid splash. Fear replayed that night’s events in my head over and over. My body was numb, but my mind wouldn’t stop. As I slowly lifted the elixir to my lips, a hand gently covered mine and pressed it back toward the bar.

“You’ve already had two, darling.”

I froze. It couldn’t be.

My hand trembling I let him guide it back to the bar. The whiskey splashed. I turned to face him and paled. “You, you’re dead.” I stuttered.

“No darling, I’m fine. I was a little,” he paused, “disappointed.” His eyebrows lifted and a flash of confusion crossed his eyes, briefly.

“But,” I protested, “I shot you.”

“Ah darling, it was just one shot.” He smiled relaxing.

“Then you really are?” I began.

“Of course.” He said, “But you mustn’t tell.”

For reasons I can’t explain I felt calm. Soothed by his voice and presence, I quipped “I should have used a silver bullet.”

He shook his head. “That’s for werewolves.”

Nervously I laughed. “What now?”

“You live your life, I continue on with mine,” he said. “Unless?”

“No.”

“Ah well, I thought perhaps you were the one. My search continues.” He started to leave but I grabbed his arm.

“No. You can’t do this. I’ll expose you.” I hissed.

He pouted. “No one will believe you.”

“I will interfere with every relationship. I swear I will. I’ll get you caught.”

“Darling,” he said calmly, “what can we do to solve this problem?”

“Fill’er up” I slurred at the bartender, “and I’ll tell you how the story ends.”

“I think you’ve had enough.” The young man stated shaking his head.

“Frank!” I shouted at the older bartender.

“Give the lady what she wants.” He instructed the young man. “Her limo is waiting outside. Her tab is paid.”

He poured the brandy. Alex sat down next to me. Now, apparently, twenty years my junior, he still looked as beautiful as that one night. “Didn’t find anyone?” I asked.

“No, darling, not tonight.” Alex sighed.

Downing the shot I headed out the door, alone.

“She has quite an imagination.” I heard the young man say to Frank and Alex.

“She’s a bit eccentric. Her husband died some forty years ago and left her loads of money, but she never seemed to get over him.” Frank said.

Alex turned and watched me leave. I waved without looking back. He’d kept his promise to take care of me until I died. I hadn’t kept my promise not to tell, but it didn’t matter. No one ever believed a drunken old lady.