A/N: Alright, this is the end. Hopefully it all ends up making sense.

Thanks again to Cindee and Tracy for the read-throughs and support, and thanks also to everyone who reviewed and alerted and favorited this story. I appreciate it more than you know.

Epilogue

"I'm mostly sorry, you know." Angela half-smirked at Booth as they both stood in the kitchen of his and Brennan's home. She slid closer to his side and gripped his forearm. "What you did tonight…"

Booth finished his beer and moved away from the artist to throw the bottle in the recycle bin under the sink. "I just did what I had to do, Ang."

"I beg to differ, Booth."

His confused expression made her smile. "You could have killed him, Booth. And no one would have blamed you. But Pelant was right; you are too good a man to kill someone in cold blood. Even if he was holding a device that was wired to blow up your home and the lab."

"We knew what he had done, we found the devices weeks ago. All the bombs were all disabled and disposed of. Technically, he was unarmed and I knew that."

"Still…" Angela shook her head. "You weren't completely sure. Not one hundred percent, anyway. He was watching, he could have replaced the bombs."

"Yeah." He took a swig of the water bottle he'd retrieved from the cooler next to him.

The pair stood in slightly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the gathering of their family and friends in the living room. A smirk crossed Angela's face as she watched Brennan show her "engagement bracelet" to Caroline, the older woman showing uncharacteristic excitement at the lovely jewelry.

"Very original engagement bauble, Agent Booth."

Booth shrugged his shoulder in a way that belied the internal struggle he'd gone through when choosing what to offer Brennan at his proposal. "It looked like something she would appreciate, and it won't get caught in her gloves. Plus, you know, the family birthstones…I knew she would appreciate that."

"And I noticed you left room for more stones, just in case…" Angela smiled brightly.

Booth fought a blush. "Well, we talked about it. You never know."

"And sometimes you do." She acknowledged with a sideways glance. "Clever move, mentioning the lunch cart. I missed it. You were telling us that you knew without telling us. Risky gamble."

"Not really, not with her." The glint in Booth's eye confused Angela, but she knew whatever he was saying meant something special to him and Brennan. "And believe me, I know." He glanced back over at his fiancée. "I am the gambler, after all."

Standing alone along the edges of the gathering, Max Keenan once again checked his cell phone. As if by magic, the device pinged and a message popped up on his lock screen.

"It's done."

Pocketing his phone again, Max moved to rescue his granddaughter from the arms of her Uncle Sweets, giving the younger man a wink as the girl squealed his name and clutched him tightly.

Booth may be the gambler, but Max Keenan preferred the sure thing.