This is something I wrote during an inspiration phase. I had this weird nostalgic feeling, and I couldn't shake it off.

I started imagining under what circumstances the Booth and Brennan partnership/ series would end, and I thought that it would be a bittersweet ending, losing one part of their lives, but gaining a much bigger part.

I have no idea how the series would end, if it belonged to me I would actually never end the show, but unfortunately I do not have the honour of owning it. It belongs to Fox, and many other people.

Enjoy!

They drove in silence, passing weather-worn buildings at first, and then golden-green fields further on. The woman sighed quietly; her face was turned towards the window, clear cerulean eyes staring out at the view and contemplating it curiously. Her driver and companion turned slightly to watch the sun slide over her pale skin and highlight a complex pattern of reds and browns in her thick auburn curls. He smiled, his mouth forming the ghost of the well-known wolfish grin he was famous for.

A few minutes later, the black SUV stopped, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, down a quiet lane between two vast fields. The companions got out and walked side by side, close enough so that their forearms would graze against each other every now and then. They didn't seem to mind.

They stopped abruptly a couple of minutes later, up to their knees in long strands of grass, and sat down, still side by side. The man's chocolate brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight, and those who had known him long enough would say that his twinkling eyes were a natural occurrence, a physical portrayal of the warmth of his character.

'There's no going back, is there?'

He turned to the woman, whose beautiful, wide eyes where searching his face, checking to see if he was as scared as she was.

'Would you like to go back?' he asked her.

She bit her lip, something she did when she thinking, or when she was arguing against a theory that he had just put forward. A small crease appeared in between her eyebrows, and her friend couldn't help but chuckle.

'No, I don't think so. Rationally speaking, the human body and brain were designed for going through both physical and mental changes. Rationally speaking, we will learn to get on with our lives; we will still see each other every day.'

'Umm-hmmm.'

'And you?'

'And me what?

'Would you like to go back?'

The man thought about why they were here, what had bought them there, what had caused them to make the decisions they had made. 'No.'

The corners of her mouth turned upwards, and she smiled. 'Why?'

'It took a lot for us to get to where we are now.'

The shy smile had turned into a full-blown grin. 'My thoughts exactly.'

'What?' her friend frowned in confusion, and slapped her arm playfully. 'You didn't mention that! You were all about physical and mental changes and adapting and stuff!'

'Just because I didn't mention that fact in particular, it doesn't mean that I didn't think it in my mind!' She slapped him back, this time around the back of the head.

Another wolfish grin spread across his face, as he draped his arm over her shoulder. 'Y'know, Bones? I don't think you need to be worried.'

'Worried, who said I was worried? Of course I don't need to be worried. The usual tiring and pointless arguments are still continuing now that we're not working together, so there really is no need to be worried at all.'

'Exactly! We're still the same!'

The woman considered this, and finding it an acceptable notion, smiled up at him and echoed his thoughts. 'We're still the same.'

They sat in a happy silence for a long time, leaning against each other. She tucked her head under the crook of his neck, and he rubbed her arm up and down slowly.

'Booth? When I said that our arguments were tiring and pointless, I was being sarcastic.'

'I know, Bones.'

'In fact, I love our arguments. You do know that, don't you?'

'I love them too, because they are what make us,' he indicated towards both of them with his finger, 'Special.'

'Exactly.'

The man pondered something for a moment, his seriously thoughtful expression reminding his friend of a confused child. 'But I can still come to your office to take you out to the diner, right?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Yes, Booth, you can. You aren't prohibited from entering the Jeffersonian just because we don't work together.' The last four words were still a bit difficult to say.

'Good.'

'In addition, you still have your card, which enables you to come onto the platform and harass me.'

'I still get to keep my card?'

'Of course, I was the one who gave it to you, and I'm not asking for it back. And although we are no longer the liaison team between the FBI and the Jeffersonian institute, it doesn't mean I am not allowed access to the working platform there.'

'You're allowed access to the FBI building at all times,' he informed her.

'I know that, and I was planning on keeping the visitors card anyway.'

They both laughed, their hearts not as heavy as they had been an hour before.

'So,' he said, his eyes locking with hers, entering into a silent conversation. 'We did the right thing?'

'We did the right thing.'

He'd already known that, but that confident answer was another confirmation. He kissed her cheek and she squeaked quietly in surprise, and turned to kiss him on the lips.

A few hours later, after much talking and bantering, the woman produced a small air-tight bag containing a photograph out of the pocket of her jacket. The photograph had been taken six and a half years before, just after the completion of one of their first cases together. He bore a triumphant expression, a Cheshire cat smile adorning his face, whilst she seemed quietly satisfied, a small smile gracing her features. Her hand was round his shoulders, his on the small of her back. Time had passed so quickly, and they hadn't even realised.

They looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement, getting up and making their way slowly back to the car, passing a lone tree in the middle of the field along the way. The man had taken a small shovel out of the car before they had gone for their walk, and he now began digging near the root of the tree. Soon enough there was a small but deep hole in the earth.

The woman knelt down to the ground and gently placed the photo inside, and together, they re-covered the hole. When they had finished they stared solemnly down at the part of themselves that they had left behind.

'The material that makes up the sealed plastic bag is not bio-degradable, so even though we are contributing to environmental pollution, the photo will survive for hundreds of years buried underground.'

'Our partnership will remain here for a long time then.'

'Booth, it is impossible-'

'Yeah, I know, Bones. You know what I mean.'

'Yes, I do.'

As they walked away, they could have sworn that they felt something detach itself from their bodies and remain underneath the old tree. But at the same time, something stronger attached itself to them, as the walked hand-in-hand back to their car.

They felt almost exactly the same as always.

'Let's go to the diner, Bones, 'cause I'm so starving I could eat one of those cows in that field over there.'

'Booth, it would take you at least seventy-two hours for a man your size to digest all of the flesh of a larger organism such as a cow. More to the point, your digestive system would suffer serious damage,' she replied seriously

The man let out a good-humoured groan. 'Oh, Bones! Can you not, like, let me imagine, what that sweet, fleshy cow, would taste like, without questioning the use of my figure of speech?'

'If your 'figure of speech' was actually based on fact, instead of sheer stupidity, then maybe I wouldn't have to question it.'

'Fine, Bones. Fine. "I am so hungry, I could eat an apple pie at the diner." Where's the fun in that?'

'Why does the statement have to be funny?'

He shook his head. 'Forget it, Bones.'

She grinned. 'Hey, don't call me 'Bones!'

With that, they burst into a fit of laughter, and continued with their discussion.

No, not much had changed.

They'd both remember the caption on the other side of the photograph for as long as they'd live.

'The line eroded, making two halves a whole. The end of a partnership. The beginning of a new one.'