Hodgins and Brennan were happy, neither Booth nor Angela were sulking, and everyone seemed to work even better than ever-- or at least the partners did. It was weird, at least the Hodgins and Angela part-- not so much the Booth and Brennan aspect of things. Sweets and I had agreed on it, three months after "The Kiss," as I'd come to call it, went down.

"They shoved them into therapy because they thought they were in love with each other and in complete denial about her Dad's trial," Sweets said, not looking at me as he slid onto a stool at the diner and took in the special boards.

Talk about starting a conversation right in the middle of it. But hey, I was game.

"I figured. But... if anyone asked me, I'd have said that no matter what else, they're too good friends to let something like that get in the way. This, either."

"It's strange," he said, looking at me. "I always thought Angela and Jack would get back together..."

"Me too. And I thought in the end that Seeley and Brennan would work everything out, but... like I told Seeley, life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans."

He nodded, grimacing. "And yet..." he trailed off, looking thoughtful. He gave his order to the waitress, then looked back at me, expecting some comment. Easy enough, I had plenty.

"They seem to get along and work even better than ever... as if best wasn't already good enough."

He grimaced again. "Yeah. I've got no excuse to keep them in therapy anymore, they're almost completely simpatico now, and when they do disagree, it's for purely professional reasons. I've got my last session with them tomorrow. But it still sucks, you know..."

I sighed. "It does. I've got to dissolve the betting pool at the lab. I'm such a hopeless romantic that I was hoping that my ex and the woman we broke up over would get together."

Sweets snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah. Me too. But it's been what... three months now? No drama, no fights, no mid-platform heartbreaking declarations of love and pleas for forgiveness. I'm surprised that there haven't been any..." he trailed off, then sipped the coffee the waitress placed in front of him.

I thought about it. "Love's funny like that, Sweets. Sometimes it's a complete nasty shambles, sometimes everyone's really careful of everyone's feelings, and really wishing well for everyone's happiness. They're all ... being careful, though if I were a betting woman I'd have been sure Angela would have freaked out after she and Roxie broke up. But ... she hasn't, and it even seems like she and Brennan are doing more stuff now. Now-- Brennan and Angela-- there's a pair that work out despite themselves. But it's not like Brennan and Hodgins paw each other all over the lab. You wouldn't even know, really, except for..."

Sweets sighed. "Yeah. Those small touches before they peel off for their offices first thing in the morning if they come in together, or those neck rubs he gives her at the end of the day when she's staying late, and they've already made sure neither Booth or Angela are there. It's ... oh, man, I don't know. He's a good guy, and she's incredible, and they both seem way happier than either of them has been for a while, but ... you know? And I had odds on Booth making a move by her Mom's anniversary, but Caroline refunded all the pool money two weeks ago."

I regarded him curiously. He really did seem disappointed. "Let me ask you something. If they'd worked it out and did get involved, what would you have done?"

He cocked his head. "Made sure they understood the importance of independent lab oversight of the work, made sure they weren't completely co-dependent, which they were at least until this all shook out, and set them off on their merry way. I mean, between the interrogation room cameras and the lab work, it's not like they could fix the results of the cases, you know? It was always more about making sure they kept being professionally critical of the other, rather than too deferential. Except ... now they're not co-dependent, and they get along like gangbusters, but ..."

"Yeah. They're not breeding beautiful squinty crimefighting babies, either." Not that I would ever say that aloud to Dr. Brennan. She'd kick my butt from here to the Bronx and then back again if she ever found out.

Sweets smiled sadly. "I was kind of hoping they'd give me some credit and name one of them Lance."

I couldn't help it-- I laughed aloud. "Right after they named their first daughter Camille for me telling him he damned well knew he was in love with her, and him dumping me. Best laid plans, Sweets."

I raised my coffee cup as if to toast, and he did the same. "Here's to not making plans for anyone else's love lives, eh?"

"Amen," he said. "Just betting on them."

I laughed again. "You should do standup now that you're not headshrinking them."

He just shook his head. With a smirk, he turned further to look at me.

"How many Yanamamo tribesmen does it take to screw in a lightbulb? None, the Yanamamo are a rainforest-dwelling tribe who have eschewed integration with mainstream populations and the attributes of modern technology..."

I nearly choked on my coffee, and encouraged, he continued.

"How many desk jockeys does it take to unscrew a lightbulb? None, because goddamnit, Bones, I told you not to bring that gun and now you've shot the damned light out, when it's my job to shoot the light out... and where the hell were you keeping that thing, anyway?"

I whooped with laughter for a bit before I calmed down. "Ah. Well, at least you can write some Booth/Brennan knock knock jokes for the lab's holiday party. We'll put on a skit."

He shook his head, raised his mug again, and said, "Maybe. No plans, this far in advance."

"I'll take that bet."