They’re home again, as much themselves as they ever were, but that’s not the whole story. They’re bigger on the inside now.
She sees it in him sometimes, looking out for trouble: Ian, her Ian, but also Sir Ian of Jaffa, ever the knight errant in any time.
He sees it in her: a faraway glint in her eyes, a twist of the bracelet on her arm as she walks. She’s a goddess, delivering justice, or comfort; an historian who can look forwards as well as back.
They are themselves, as they ever were – as they never knew till now.