Disclaimer: God I hate these things. If Fox sues me, I'm gonna be seriously cheesed off. I don't own Bones. I really don't. If you think I do, please seek professional help.
A/N: Here it is! The infamous alternate epilogue! I'm sorry it took so long to post despite having written it as the first epilogue to "Not For Kids". You're time traveling again...::more mystical fog::..it's now, six months after the end of "Not For Kids"...which I guess would make it June-ish. Anyway, here it is! I hope you enjoy! And we'll discuss at the end.
A/N 2: Ah hem, STRONG T. There's sex, nothing worse than the others, but I just thought I'd warn you. They need a T.5 or even a T.75 rating. That would really work for me.
Six months later...
He is just finishing up the dinner dishes when he hears the distinct sound of a key turning the dead bolt lock of the front door. Wiping his hands on his pants, he cautiously steps out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As he moves toward the entryway, the front door nudges open slowly, revealing his beleaguered looking partner.
"Bones!" He says, moving toward her. "I thought you were staying at your place tonight." He goes to remove the duffle bag from her hand, but she drops it to the floor before pressing herself into his body. He quickly recovers from the shock, and wraps his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him.
What the hell happened?
She doesn't say anything as he runs a hand through her hair. She pushes her nose into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent, and releases a deep sigh of relief.
"Bones? You alright?" He asks, tentatively.
"I couldn't find my favorite pair of pajamas," she responds quietly, not moving from his arms.
Favorite pajamas? That doesn't seem like something Bones would be upset about.
He maneuvers them away from the entryway, kicking her duffle inside before closing the front door with a solid thud.
"You don't wear pajamas," he says into her hair, his voice taking on mischievous tone.
Does she even own pajamas?
She pulls back from him, hands still gripping his lower back. "I most certainly do." A look of indignation passes over her features.
"When?" He asks, petulantly.
"When Parker is over, I always wear pajamas."
That's true. She's very strict on the "No Sleeping Naked" rule.
"Okay. You got me there." He smirks.
"I always wear my favorite pajamas," she tells him sternly.
What in the hell do those look like? I'm not usually concerned with what she's wearing.
"I see. And you can't seem to find them?"
"No, I know exactly where they are," she says, pulling away from him and moving toward the couch
"But you just said you couldn't find them."
I'll never understand her. Not if I live to be a hundred and fifty.
"I couldn't find them at my place. That's because they're here. Just like everything else." She tucks herself into a corner of his couch and motions for him to sit next to her.
"Ahh," he responds. "Well, I'm glad they are. I missed you," he says as he plops himself down beside her. "So, how was your week?" He asks, tugging on a curl cascading down her shoulder.
"Productive, but boring," she tells him. "I shouldn't hate book signings because these are the people that read my books. They're the reason I have best sellers, but some of the fans give me the –"she pauses for a moment as she tilts her head to the side. He smiles at her as she turns her gaze to his face. "The heebie jeebies?" She asks and he nods in assurance, loving the smile that crosses her face when she realizes she got that one right.
"Anyway, I came home today, thinking I would get some work done, thinking a little alone time would be good, but I was wrong."
He physically blanches at hearing the brilliant Temperance Brennan say she's wrong.
This can only end badly.
"I couldn't find any of my stuff. I wanted to take a relaxing bubble bath, then slip into my favorite pajamas and climb into bed and do some work. But I couldn't because my bubble bath, my pajamas and all my paperwork are here. Everything I wanted was here," she tells him in a matter-of-fact tone.
He lets out a weary sigh, certain he knows where this is going.
She wants distance. She wants her independence back. And we were doing so well.
"You're here," she whispers and a chill runs up his spine.
Oh hallelujah.
"DADDY!"
"And so is Parker," she responds with a warm smile.
"Daddy, you said you were going to read me a book—" his son says, barging into the living room. "DR. BONES!"
His little feet pound the floor as he heads for the forensic anthropologist, rounding the couch and then launching himself into her outstretched arms.
"Dr. Bones! You're back!" He practically shouts in her ear as he squeezes her with his tiny hands.
"Hi Parker," she responds, returning the embrace. "Are you having fun with your Daddy?"
His son nods emphatically. "But I'm happy you're back! Did you have fun on your trip? Daddy says you were signing books. Dr. Bones, how come you're allowed to write in books but I'm not?" Parker spits out all in one breath.
Brennan looks momentarily shocked before she plasters a smile on her face. "My trip went fine though I'm kind of disappointed I missed your weekend with your daddy."
"What's dispointed?" Parker asks, shifting himself so he can get comfortable on her lap.
"Um, it means upset or sad," his partner explains and Booth can't stop the smile that spreads across his face.
Her ability to explain things to my five year old has improved ten-fold.
"Don't be sad, Dr. Bones," his son replies, placing his head in the crook of her neck. "Mommy isn't coming to get me til lunch time tomorrow! We can play until then!"
"Maybe this time I'll beat you at Operation, Dr. Parker," she teases him and he giggles.
"I KNOW!" He shouts, hopping down from her lap. "You can read me our book! The dinosaur one! Then you won't be sad anymore!" His face splits into a grin as if he's just come up with the most amazing plan.
"Wow. What a great idea, buddy," Booth assures his son.
"I think I can manage one bedtime story."
"Two."
She pretends to think about this for a moment before she answers. "One and we make pancakes tomorrow for breakfast."
I seem to recall this conversation.
"YES!" Parker hops up and down, before holding out his hand for a high-five. His son giggles as his partner stares at his hand in the air. "You slap it, Dr. Bones."
"Why?"
That's my girl.
"It's a high-five!"
"Bones, it's a socially acceptable way of expressing satisfaction in gesture form," he explains.
She swivels her head toward him and settles a complacent gaze upon his face. "Booth, you sound like a squint."
Oh God, no.
"Oh, ha ha, Bones." He rolls his eyes.
She quickly returns her gaze to Parker, lightly tapping his hand with her own. "Like that?"
Booth and his son nod in agreement.
She pushes herself up off the couch. "Okay, say night to your daddy and we'll go read the dinosaur book."
Parker rushes into his dad's arms. "Bonne nuit, Daddy."
Perfect.
Brennan's jaw drops as Parker leans into kiss his father on the cheek.
"What did you just say?" Booth asks, eyeing his partner, knowing full well what he'd said. After all, he'd been speaking in French for two weeks. Rebecca had been impressed enough to warn him when she dropped their son off, that if Parker knew the word in Spanish or French, he used it.
"I told you, daddy. It means 'good night'."
It means Bones is in some serious trouble.
"Uh huh."
And she knows it.
"Okay, let's go Parker. We've got a story to read," Brennan says quickly, grabbing his son's shoulders, and ushering him out of the living room.
"Daddy and I played football today. He told me that he had fun at the Cereal Bowl. We were playing catch and he says I could be the next Johnny U, but I don't know what that means," Parker rambles as he leads her down the hall.
His partner laughs as they walk into his son's room and their voices become muted. Booth lets out a deep chuckle as he heads to the kitchen to finish the cleaning. As he scrubs the last pot, he wonders what the real reason Temperance showed up on his doorstep.
She wanted to work. That's what she told me. And what's this about favorite pajamas? Five year olds have favorite pajamas not thirty year old forensic anthropologists.
Quickly wiping his wet hands on his jeans, Booth leaves the kitchen in search of the elusive favorite pajamas. Passing his son's bedroom, he hears the low sound of his partner reading. With a smile, he enters his own bedroom and heads directly for his dresser. Three months ago, he'd emptied out the top two drawers for her clothing along with half his closet. Surreptitiously opening the top drawer, he rummages through the garments.
None of this is familiar.
He paws through the second drawer, the same as the first, and finds nothing resembling pajamas.
Maybe she's wrong. Maybe they're at her place.
After resolutely searching through both drawers again, he surrenders. Fairly certain she wouldn't hang up pajamas, he retreats from the bedroom.
Guess not everything she wants is here.
"You didn't have fun on your trip, Dr. Bones?" Booth hears Parker ask as he moves past his son's bedroom. Out of curiosity, he pauses.
"I would have rather been here with you and your Daddy," she responds.
"We are a lot of fun." He hears the humor in his son's voice and he can't help the swelling of paternal pride that arises in his chest.
My son is funny. I raised a boy with a sense of humor. I did that.
His partner chuckles and Booth has to get a glimpse. Carefully taking a step backwards, he sneaks a peak through the cracked doorway. His heart rate soars at the sight that greets him. There's his Bones propped up against the headboard of his son's bed, legs outstretched, arms wrapped around his child, lying on his side between her legs, his head resting on her chest.
"Did you miss me, Dr. Bones?"
"I always miss you, Parker." Her hand sweeps through his mop of curls.
"Did you miss Daddy?"
"Very much, but don't tell him I said that," she responds, trying to be secretive, and his son lets out a giggle, while his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest.
Booth smiles widely and retreats from the doorway, heading back toward the kitchen. Hoping a quick rub down of the counters would calm his pounding heart, he grabs a sponge off the sink and begins to viciously scrub his countertops.
"I think I should move in." He whirls around to find his partner standing in the kitchen door.
She what?
"What?" He manages to say without stuttering, throwing the sponge into the sink.
"I think I should move in, here, with you," she tells him again.
She's kidding.
He stumbles over syllables as he tries to come up with something to say to that.
"Think about it, Booth. Most of my things are already here. I'm never at my place, and when I am, it's –" She hesitates.
"It's what?" He prompts.
"Lonely," she replies, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like I said before everything I want is here. And I don't feel like pretending that I want to be at my place, or I want to be alone anymore because I don't."
"Are you sure?" He asks, taking a tentative step toward her.
"Is this a question of my certainty or yours?" She gives him an inquiring look. "Booth, if you don't want me to move in, just say so. It just seemed like the next logical step in our relationship and a rational solution to my problem, but it's your place, so…" She mumbles and he can feel her pulling away.
Placing his hands on her forearms, he draws her to him. He presses a kiss to her forehead before gently pushing her away.
"I want you here, Bones. I do. I just want to make sure this is what you want, not just what you think you should do."
"I want to be here with you, Booth. I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't." She gives him a pointed glare.
He chuckles. "Yeah, okay. But you should know I didn't find any pajamas in your drawers. So if that was the impetus for your wanting to move in…" He trails off.
She gives him a broad smile and tangles her fingers in his. Pulling on his hand, she leads him down the hallway toward his bedroom. Releasing his hand as they enter, he can't help but wonder what she's up to as she heads to the dresser.
She opens the bottom drawer, his drawer, and pulls out a pair of navy blue plaid pajama bottoms. Opening the second to the bottom, she pulls out an old gray t-shirt of his with FBI emblazoned in navy blue lettering across the front.
Holding them in one hand, she shows them to him. "These are my favorite pajamas."
I only vaguely remember her wearing those.
The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smirk. "Really?" She nods.
"So you wanna move in so you can have easier access to my clothing?" He maneuvers his way across the room to stand in front of her.
"Well, there is that. Plus, it'd be convenient and we'd be a more efficient team."
Ah, logic. Hello again.
"And there'd be a whole lot more sex, which, as you know, I am a fan of." He produces his charm smile as he wraps his arms around her waist. Her hands quickly find their way to the back of his neck, the clothes falling to the floor.
She kisses the tip of his chin, then each corner of his mouth before lightly brushing her lips against his. Booth's palms flatten against the small of her back, allowing her to control the intimacy of their reunion. She traces the outline of his lips with her tongue before gently pressing their lips together. He presses back, molding their mouths together and all pretense of delicacy fades as she moves her hands to his hips and roughly tugs his body into hers. A deep groan rumbles in his throat as her tongue invades his mouth. He rolls his hips into hers and she has to release his mouth to moan.
He grins widely, burying his face in her hair. "I missed you so much, Bones."
She scoffs running her hands up his chest and around his shoulders. "It was only a week, Booth."
"It was a lifetime," he whispers into her hair.
Here it comes.
She snorts into his shoulder. "You're so cheesy, Booth."
He disagrees, forcing her body away from his. "It's not cheesy, Bones. It's romantic." She simply shakes her head. For a moment, they stare at one another, speaking volumes with their eyes.
"Okay, you can move in," he tells her with a complacent smile.
She rolls her eyes at him. "We need another dresser and I need more room in the closet." He nods obediently. "All my clothes are in my car."
Huh?
He blanches. "Why?"
"I don't know," she sighs. "I went to my place and I couldn't find anything, and I just got so angry. So, I packed up all my clothes and came here."
That was impetuous.
"Temperance Brennan acted on impulse?"
With a triumphant grin, she nods. "I went with my gut."
"I'm so proud of you I could weep," he mocks, and she playfully shoves him. Tightening his grip on her hips, a serious look crosses over his face.
Go in for the kill.
"Now, Bones." He pauses for effect. "I was under the impression you were teaching my son Spanish," he says, as her eyes begin to dart quickly back and forth. "I know I'm not the smartest man you've ever dated, but I'm pretty sure 'bonne nuit' is French."
A smile spreads across her face as she shakes her head. "He was curious, Booth," she explains, her fingers entwining behind his neck. He urges her to look at him and when her blue eyes meet his brown ones, his heart skips a beat.
"How does a five year old become curious about French?" He asks, lowering his face so that their noses are almost touching.
"Well, I was showing him where Spain was on the globe during our lesson a couple of weeks ago, and he wanted to know the countries that bordered it. He has an insatiable appetite for knowledge, Booth."
That's it Bones. Blame the child.
He places a kiss on her nose before shaking his head. "How did all of this figure into him learning French?"
"Well, he asked me what language they spoke in France, and I told him. Then, he asked if I spoke French, and when I told him I did, he wanted to know what it sounded like. So, I spoke a bit to him and he wanted to do it. So, I taught him some, but only a couple of words. I swear," she answers, somewhat distractedly, as he presses a kiss to her forehead and then her temples.
Uh huh. He's practically fluent.
"How many is a couple?" He asks, halting his assault on her face.
'Technically, two," she responds sarcastically.
"And in 'squint speak'? He questions, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, I don't know, Booth. I didn't count." He glares at her. 'Well," she sighs exasperatedly. "I taught him the numbers 1 through 10, primary colors, mom, dad, appropriate greetings, and Bones because he wanted to know," she says, listing it all off on her fingers.
That's my boy.
"Does that sound like a couple to you, Bones?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," she says, placing a hot, open mouthed kiss on his neck. "I could have taught him a whole lot more and then there would be two languages your son speaks that you don't." She pulls back and gives him a complacent smirk, removing herself from his grasp, and pressing her back into the dresser.
Damn.
The familiar feel of desire tugs at his belly, reminding him that he hasn't felt her in a week, he hasn't been inside her in a week, and he can't control himself. Taking a long stride forward, he slams his entire body into hers, shoving her up against the dresser, and crushing her lips beneath his. She groans deeply as she wraps a leg around his thigh, desperately trying to align their bodies in the right places.
He spears a hand through her auburn curls, roughly tilting her head to an angle that allows him better access to the sweetness that is the inside of her mouth. He can feel her fingers trying to get between their bodies and he pulls back slightly. She deftly unbuttons the fly of his jeans, shoving her hand into the front of his pants and he practically growls. Smiling against his lips, she removes her hand and pats him on the shoulder.
"Miss me?"
"No," he replies breathlessly. "I just really like it when you belittle my intelligence. Gets me all hot and bothered."
She rolls her hips into his in response.
"We need to shut the door," she tells him, lowering her leg from around his waist.
He nods emphatically. "Don't move," he commands as he rushes over to his bedroom door and glances into the hallway. He listens for a moment while simultaneously wrenching his t-shirt off, hoping his son is still sound asleep despite their activities. Hearing nothing, he gently shuts the door, and turns off the light, before spinning around to face his partner.
Oh Christ.
"I moved but only a little bit," she says, now completely naked, her back still pressed against the dresser.
He shoves his boxers and jeans down all at once, stepping out of them without struggle. He practically flies across the room, lifting her up by her bottom, and positioning her between the knobs of his dresser drawers. She wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back, as he slams into her without reservation.
The drawers rattle as their bodies meet, thrust for thrust and kiss for kiss. The picture frames on the top of the dresser tumble over as he pushes into her, wondering how he went a week without her. She releases his shoulders, turning her hands to grip the edges of the furniture behind her, and tilting her hips. The new angle amplifies every sensation and with two strong solid strokes, they rocket over the edge together, their cries purposely muffled by one another's lips.
His legs shake as he struggles to keep her attached to his body. Her hands release their grip on his dresser and find his shoulders again. The change in position causes him to hiss and she lets out a loud laugh.
"Booth, put me down." Her voice is soft, but commanding.
Never.
"Just a second," he tells her, placing his face in the crook of her neck. He takes in her scent and sighs. "I love you," he whispers.
So much it hurts to breathe sometimes.
"I'm well aware of that," she replies, fingering the hairs at the back of his neck. He lifts his face from her neck and smiles. Leaning in, he kisses her long and deep, letting her slowly slide down his body. "You make me very happy," she tells him when the kiss ends.
"I figured there had to be a reason you'd give up your independence to move in here," he says, releasing her from his grasp. "I thought perhaps you had a thing for my kid."
"He is pretty cute," she says, leaning over to pick up the pajamas she dumped on the floor. "A little young for me though." She pulls the t-shirt over her head, the hem barely extending beyond the middle of her thighs.
Moving around, she grabs up her underwear and his boxers, and tosses the boxers to him. As he slides them on, he notices her begin to put on the pajama bottoms.
"Don't bother," he tells her, swiping the pants from her hands.
Not on my watch.
Placing her hands on her hips, she glares. "Booth, he could come in at any minute."
"You're wearing underwear," he reasons.
And that's pushing it.
"How come you get to wear pants?"
"These are basically underwear," he explains and she begins to pout.
"Fine, you can wear the bottoms if you admit that you missed me."
Her eyes twinkle as she crosses her arms over her chest. "I will not."
"Say it. Say 'I missed you so much Seeley'. And you can have your precious pajama bottoms," he tells her, taking a predatory step forward. She shakes her head emphatically, and begins to move backward toward the door.
Dropping the pants, he launches himself over the corner of the bed, as she spins around toward the door. He grabs her from behind, and a loud squeal emits from her throat. He turns her around in his arms and quickly moves her backwards, until they both fall onto the bed. Their lower halves press together, as he props himself up on one hand and holds her wrists above her head with the other.
"Admit it, or the Claw makes an appearance," he says with all seriousness, their faces inches apart.
"Do it and Parker learns Italian next week." Her face stays blank as they stare each other down.
He's the first to crack, a smile spreading across his face. He loosens his grip on her wrists and she takes full advantage. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she wrenches her hands away and pushes him, effectively reversing their positions.
With a smug smile, she places a kiss on his lips. "I missed you," she whispers.
I knew that.
Bending over further, she nibbles at his ear lobe. "I love you," she whispers in his ear.
I knew that too.
As she begins to kiss her way down his neck, he kneads his hands into her bare thighs. "This is why you shouldn't wear bottoms," he tells her.
"Daddy?" Brennan immediately flips on to her back next to him and he catapults off the bed.
"And this is exactly why I should," she tells him between chuckles.
Thank God she thinks this is amusing.
She slides off the bed and rushes over to the pajamas on the floor, as he moves toward the door.
"Hey son," he says, as he approaches the cracked door where Parker's brown eyes peak through. Pulling on the knob, he opens the door wider and kneels down to his son's level. "What's up?"
Booth glances behind the door and finds his partner sitting on his bed, bottoms on, and he opens the door all the way.
"I heard a sound," his son tells him, his lower lip trembling.
"Oh yeah?" He pulls the child to him, throwing him onto his hip, as he stands up. "What did the sound sound like?"
"Like Dr. Bones," Parker replies quickly and he watches his partner's face pale.
"What do you mean, buddy?" Booth asks as he sits down on the opposite side of the bed.
"I thought she was scared." His son's lip quivers as he repositions himself in his dad's lap.
The squeal when I caught her. Not sexual. Hallelujah.
"Did I scare you, Parker?" His partner asks, turning her entire body to face them. His child nods before quickly fleeing his lap and scrambling into hers.
Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around him as he presses his head into her shoulder. She rests her cheek against the curls on top of his head and sighs.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Parker," she says, gently rocking him from side to side.
"You're okay, Dr. Bones?" His son's voice shakes.
"Yeah, baby, I'm fine. Your daddy clawed me and I yelled. I'm sorry." She presses a kiss into his hair.
Blame me, Bones. Nice.
"Okay," he says, lifting his head from her shoulder. He quickly turns to face his father. "Daddy, don't claw Dr. Bones when I'm not here to protect her," he tells him in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
Booth smiles and mock salutes his son. "Yes, sir."
Parker seems content with his response and turns back to Brennan. "Dr. Bones, can I sleep in here?"
No, no, no. I've got at least two more times in me. AT LEAST. Read my mind, Bones. Read my mind.
"Sure, buddy. That sounds like fun," she gives his son a sweet smile and he shakes his head. "Stop" she mouths and he sighs.
She owes me. Tomorrow better be uninterrupted when Parker leaves.
"Sure does," he responds, pseudo-enthusiastically.
"YAY!" His son reaches his arms behind her neck and hugs her. She chuckles and hugs him back before dumping him on his back between the two of them and tickling him. Booth laughs as his son begins to squeal and joins in, grabbing his son's feet and assaulting them with his fingers.
Parker reaches a fever pitch, his laughing becoming a high-pitched scream, and they both stop. "Had enough?" Booth asks, holding his fingers inches above his child's stomach.
Parker nods emphatically. "Okay. Under the covers with you, then!"
Brennan moves off the bed, and begins to pull at the comforter as Booth grabs his son by the middle and hoists him above his head.
"Daddy, stop!" Parker says with a giggle. "Daddy, I gotta tell you a secret."
Booth lowers him to his hip. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
Parker leans into his father's ear, covering his lips. "Dr. Bones missed you, but she told me not to tell you."
"She did, did she?" Booth shoots a look at his partner, who'd heard the whole thing. She smiles at him, shrugging her shoulders, as she climbs into his bed, their bed.
"Shhh! It's a secret!"
"Okay," Booth whispers, settling them both down underneath the covers, suddenly happy Bones let him stay.
Parker gets comfortable between them before letting out a sigh. "Dr. Bones, will you be here next time?"
Brennan turns on her side to face his son and nods. "Yes, I'll be here, Parker."
"Good," his son replies simply with a smile.
"You know what, bud?" Booth says, tapping Parker's belly. He turns to face him. Booth glances over at Brennan and she gives him a reassuring smile. "We were thinking maybe Bones could move in here with Daddy."
"If that's okay with you," she quickly adds.
Parker's eyes widen as he returns his focus to Brennan. "Really?" She nods. "YEAH! Then you'll always be here!"
"Yeah," she responds. "I'll always be here."
"And then Daddy won't be lonely cause I'm not here!"
"That's true," she replies with a smile.
The smile on his son's face immediately disappears and he turns to face his father with a serious expression. "Daddy, you can't do the Claw unless I'm here."
Both adults laugh out loud. "Okay, buddy. No Claw except when you're here."
"Dr. Bones, if Daddy claws you, you call me, cause I'll yell at him." Booth smiles at his son's protective streak.
Sounds familiar.
"Okay, Parker," she tells him, placing a kiss on his forehead. Booth watches as his son yawns and snuggles into his partner's side. With a smile, he joins them, scooting closer to his son and throwing his arm across the both of them.
He sits up and places a kiss on his son's forehead. "I love you, buddy."
"I love you too, Daddy," Parker tells him, drowsily.
He leans over his son and smiles. "I kinda like you," he whispers against her lips.
"Yeah, well, I only sorta like you anyway," she replies, before pressing her mouth against his in a chaste kiss.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too."
I know.
"I love you, Dr. Bones," Parker says, his eyes closed. She looks up at Booth with a surprised look on her face and he shrugs, lying back down.
"I love you too, Parker." Booth's face splits into a wide grin.
"I already knowed that," his son responds in a sleepy voice, and both adults stifle laughs.
That's my boy.
Brennan rolls her eyes before giving him a silly grin. She mouths 'night' and closes her eyes.
Booth tightens his grip on her waist as he pulls the two most important people in the world to him, closer. He lays his head down next to his son's, and takes one last look at the two people next to him, and closes his eyes. As he drifts off, only one thought runs through his head.
I love my family.
There is no really great reason why I rewrote the epilogue. I just didn't like this one as much as I liked the second one. Plus, this one was terrifically long. It's like a tome. But anyway...
Everything you hoped for? Maybe, maybe not, but it feels like a good place to end this series. Everyone loves everyone else, everyone's happy...and maybe that's where it should end. And while I agree Brennan is a bit OOC, its kinda hard to say what she would be like after being in a relationship with Booth for six months. This is my interpretation...could be a failed interpretation, but its mine, none the less! Anywho, wow, I just wanna say thank you to all of you who've stuck it out this long. You've been absolutely fantastic and I really appreciate it!