So I watched the Bones season finale. And I cried. And I thought "I've never been so inspired to write a story as I am right now." And I know that everyone and their brother is writing an alternate ending for the finale, or their take on the next episode. But I really wanted to give it a try, so here it is.

A Year From Today:

Booth sat on a bench, staring into the reflective pool before him. His fingers drummed impatiently on the wooden slats below him. He glanced anxiously towards the coffee cart again. He stood up and started pacing in front of the bench. Back and forth. The motion, an imitation of activity, calmed his nerves, but only slightly. He took a deep breath.

Brennan pulled her suitcase through the airport. The wheels thudded over the cracks in the floor, making a steady rhythm, matching her anxious heartbeat. She strode purposefully through the glass doors, and hailed a cab. "The national mall," she instructed the driver as she climbed into the backseat. She took a deep breath.

Booth stood up suddenly, craning his neck as he saw a cab approaching. The car slowed to a stop, and the door opened. His breath caught in his chest. A middle-aged couple, with cameras around their necks and sunglasses on their heads, appeared from car. He breathed out slowly, relaxing again. He did not hear as someone approached him from behind.

"Booth!" called a voice.

He turned around frantically. His eyes found her walking steadily towards him. Her auburn hair flew gently with the wind. She looked the same as he remembered, though perhaps her skin was a shade darker.

Almost without thought, he began walking towards her, so that within moments they were face to face.

"Bones," he said quietly, looking down at her. She smiled as he used her old nickname.

"I've missed that," she replied. Her steely blue eyes scanned his face for changes. Although he appeared not to have shaved for a day or so, she was relieved to see that he had no new battle scars.

"I've missed you," Booth said, gazing intently at her. His warm brown eyes drank in the soft features of her face. "Listen Bones," he began.

"No, you listen Booth. Please?" she requested. "I have something important to tell you."

"Wait just a second," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards their bench. He sat down and pulled her down next to him.

"No, I can't sit down right now," she insisted, standing back up in front of him. "What I'm going to tell you… it makes me remarkably anxious."

"Alright then," Booth said, with some concern in his voice. He made a show of giving her his undivided attention. "Go ahead."

"Booth, a year ago," she began, "I thought our partnership was the most important thing to me. I thought that working together mattered to me more than anything. But I was wrong."

He looked at her in confusion. She breathed deeply, and then continued.

"I thought that I would miss working with you, solving murders with you, more than anything. But I didn't."

"Wait, Bones," Booth started, but she halted him, laying a finger over his lips.

"What I missed most of all was you, Booth." He looked dumbfounded, and did not seem close to speaking, so she continued.

"I missed you calling me Bones, as I previously stated. I missed having drinks or coffee or lunch with you. I missed you trying to persuade me to eat pie. I missed calling you when I'm upset. I missed hugging you when I'm afraid. It's irrational, but there it is."

"Bones," he said softly, standing up and taking her hand. "I missed you too."

"I know," she replied. "You said that already. Wait, let me tell you my conclusion."

"Go ahead," Booth allowed, smiling. He had missed the way she pulled logic into every conversation, especially those in which it did not strictly belong.

"On the premise that the things or people that a person misses the most are the things or people that the person loves the most," she paused for a breath. "I must conclude that I love you, Booth."

"Wow, Bones," he replied. Wow was an understatement. "That's quite a step. Are you sure about this?"

"Booth, I've had a whole year to think about this," she answered, looking up to his eyes. "I am certain."

Their eyes locked together, and he slowly leaned towards her. With only an inch of air separating their noses, Brennan placed her hand on Booth's chest. She did not push him away, but rather delayed him for a moment.

"Wait Booth," she said timidly. "One more thing."

"Yes?" he asked, looking quizzically into her blue-grey eyes.

"Do you still love me?" she asked, hesitantly. He saw the true worry in her expression.

"Yes," he whispered reassuringly. "I love you, Temperance Brennan." He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I always have," he whispered, kissing her other cheek. "And I always will," he finished, finally bringing his lips to hers.

If any kiss could make up for over six years of pent-up romantic tension, this was it, Booth thought, as Bones melted comfortably into his arms. He kissed her deeply and warmly. Her arms curved over his broad shoulders, locking around his neck. His mouth felt comforting and familiar to her, almost as though she had been kissing him every day of their partnership. Finally they pulled apart, both smiling widely.

"So tell me about your trip, Bones." Booth said conversationally, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and guiding her towards his car.