The thought of minghun had always been one she'd entertained. She was, after all, what Sully had called a "Bone Lady", and always had been. The idea that, after her love of bones, that such a practice would be put into uniting hers with a loved one, interested her.

She'd never seen a minghun outside of her study before, and she enjoyed the anthropological ideals that the Chinese had about the unions of the two souls in the afterlife. She'd have enjoyed it more if she didn't think Sully was sailing off in the morning.

She wasn't crying because she thought she'd made the wrong choice. It wasn't even because she'd miss him.

No. She was standing in the lab crying because she could see the wedding picture Angela had drawn, and the two people laying out in front of her together. And she knew exactly who she'd want her bones to be placed next to when she died.

She was crying because it wasn't Sully.

I know who it is in my mind, but feel free to add your own ending.