Temperance Brennan silently blew the fringe from her eyes as she rolled with a thump to the middle of her bed. This was getting ridiculous. How long ago had she settled down to sleep? She was a good sleeper. Two months ago she had drifted off peacefully on the floor of the Indonesian jungle, the sounds of various species of nocturnal creatures lulling her into deep and undisturbed dreams. Her last night in the Maluku Islands had been calm and mellow, and she had retired early on in the evening to allow herself time to absorb her surroundings, storing them safely in a tranquil place in her brain.

She rolled over again to her side, facing the opposite end of the bed, which was neat and empty. How long had it been since she'd had a man here? Certainly over a month, perhaps even more. There had been no time for sex or anything like it in Indonesia and she had returned to the States in need of some serious satisfying of biological urges. The first night Temperance had been home she'd met her partner at the reflecting pool as they'd agreed almost seven months before. Her entire flight back had been spent in a daze, her thoughts clouded with nothing but Booth. Would he keep his promise? Would he be there to meet her? Would they hug? Kiss? She had relived the intimate grip of his hand at the airport so often during her time away that she had managed to form a magnitude of emotion into the simple gesture and all that it had meant between them, for them.

She had met him, and they had embraced, and Temperance had decided there and then that she'd changed, that she'd wanted him, wanted this and there was no way she wasn't going to get what she wanted. Then Booth had driven a metaphorical kick to her stomach with the announcement of his new girlfriend, and Temperance had shattered.

The second night she was back, Temperance had met Hannah during dinner with Booth. The third night, she had gone clubbing with Angela and invited the first man to drunkenly push himself up against her back to her bed. She had needed to forget.

Temperance's mind drifted back to that second night, and the dinner she had shared with Booth, Hannah and the majority of the team from the lab. A 'welcome home' meal, Angela had declared, before rejecting all of Temperence's pleas of not being able to attend. 'Come on, Bren! You have to come!' she'd insisted. 'Besides, we just have to get the dirt on Agent Hottie's new squeeze; I hear she's quite the Barbie Doll.'

Angela had been right. Hannah was a Barbie Doll, a beautiful, perfect woman whom she would have picked out as a woman for Booth had she not been so utterly convinced the woman had been her. But she wasn't perfect, and Hannah was. I missed my chance, she had thought sadly over dinner. It's over. Hannah had spoken animatedly to the team all evening, warming to everyone with the kind of ease that Temperance had grown volcanically jealous of. She had realised late into the evening that she was not only jealous of Hannah for being Booth's woman, but also that she was jealous of Hannah for being her.

Hannah had probably been a cheerleader. An all-American girl with the type of blonde hair that Temperance had secretly coveted as a mousy brown fifteen year old with a favouritism for a loose ponytail. She'd probably had a steady stream of boyfriends since she was sixteen; one of those girls who made boys fall passionately in love with her just by the curve of her eyelashes or the gloss on her lips.

The memory of being an impassioned twenty two year old ghosted through Temperance's thoughts as she remembered the first time she'd given herself completely and utterly to a man. The night she had given her virginity to Michael had been undeniably good; he had shown her what it was to be worshipped in a way she had thought only happened to other girls, girls who weren't her. He had adored her body all night, coaxing pleasure from her and leaving her asking for nothing. Equally in return she had indulgently explored his own body, yet in the back of her mind she had felt the tingle of something foreign, something that didn't belong to their moment. She was being cared for. Somebody cared for her. After that she had been confused as to the source of her pleasure. Had she loved Michael as a lover or simply because he was the first person to care about her?

Hannah had probably lost her virginity on prom night or spring dance or some other occasion Temperance hadn't been asked to take part in. It would have been with some fresh-faced youth, a jock, she suddenly thought, that's what those types of boys were known as. She imagined Booth as a quick-witted senior, a fuchsia corsage pinned to the lapel of his tuxedo jacket as he escorted a candy-coloured Hannah to their summer dance. She smiled at the thought of Booth wearing a pink flower; saw the frown of his distaste in her mind.

Carefully she sat up in bed and with a soft exhale realised sleep wasn't going to come tonight. Picking up the pile of paperwork she had placed on the floor before turning her lights off three hours ago, she padded through to her living room, switched on an embroidered lamp she had received as a gift from Angela two Christmases ago and settled down to read.

The knock came loudly and rudely, jolting her awake from the uncomfortable pillow of her forearms.

'Bones? Bones!' The familiar murmur of her partner seeped through heavy wood of her front door, and she yawned and rubbed her eyes as she realised she was probably beyond late for the morning's schedule. 'Bones! Are you even in there?'

She heard him rustling through his pockets for his telephone, and peeked through the peephole to see him making a strangled grunt as he spilled coffee over his hand in the process. She sighed. She could just let him go, hide behind her door. He probably thought she'd already gone to the lab anyway. Since Hannah (and these days everything was since Hannah), Temperance had been driving herself to work, getting her own coffee, being alone with her thoughts in the mornings. Why was he here?

This is what she did, this is who she is. She is organised and conscientious; she gets the work done and done well, and basks in the success of it. She certainly isn't a woman who falls asleep with her head on a table because she can't bear to feel the cool expanse of emptiness every time she rolls over in her own bed. She isn't the kind of woman who hides behind doors.

Or maybe she just doesn't want to be.

Lifting the latch off the door she pulls it open to find Booth, phone pressed against ear. Absently she hears the buzz of her own phone from in the kitchen, and raises her eyebrows apologetically.

'Sorry Booth, I wasn't feeling too well last night so I'm a little sleep deprived.'

Immediately his eyes change and he is surveying her, assessing her for distress, until the little flash is gone and his face returns to neutral. She remembers he doesn't do that anymore, not since Hannah. She registers in the back of her mind she is still wearing the vest and shorts she threw on last night before bed when sleep had seemed an actual possibility. She folds her arms across her chest awkwardly when she follows his gaze to her naked shoulders, and her cheeks flush rose pink.

'Oh er, okay Bones,' Booth won't make eye contact. 'Well I just came to pick you up, y'know, thought you might need a lift...to work?' He offers. He is stumbling over his words like a toddler, and it makes Temperance uneasy.

'Thanks Booth, but obviously I'm going to be late into the lab today,' she says.' I haven't even showered yet and I have a feeling it's going to take at least three cups of coffee for me to make it out the front door.'

'It's okay, I can wait.' Why is he here? They haven't driven into work together since before the year they spent apart. 'I can't do much without you anyway, Bones.'

Temperance bites her lip and feels like a silly teenage girl at the way his comment makes her heart tingle. He means the work; he can't get the work done without you. She silently turns around and widens the door for him to enter, and he closes it with a click behind him. For a moment they stand looking at each other, before his brown eyes flicker away and an expression of excitement lights up his face.

'Hey Bones, you got a TV!' His eyes are dancing as he takes in the large television in the corner and he flops down on the sofa, propping his feet on the coffee table. She remembers dimly that he hasn't been to her apartment since their return, and she smiles at the familiarity of it all. She's missed this, him moving casually amongst her furniture and possessions.

'Yes, I bought it a couple of weeks ago. The people I was working with in the Indonesia sent me over some material they'd like me to analyse on DVD, so I thought it pertinent to buy a television that I can watch them on. I was assured by the salesperson it is an advanced model more than suitable for my needs.'

'Sure, I'd love to get my hands on one of these babies...' Booth lets out a low whistle and turns the machine on with its remote. They both are still for a moment watching the news station it's tuned into, before Temperance asks 'How's Hannah? I understand she has a lot of work on at the moment, last time I saw her she was quite stressed.'

'Hannah's fine,' says Booth in a clipped voice, indicating that she was not fine. 'She's fine.' He is staring intently at the television and Temperance weighs up whether the 'Man steals three hundred dollars worth of toilet paper from workplace' news story currently being played is really that interesting or that that particular area of conversation is closed. She chooses the latter option, and wonders whether the conversation is closed only to her.

'Good, I'm glad to hear of it,' she says, remembering again that she is very naked under the pyjamas she's wearing. 'I'm going to shower Booth, help yourself to anything you'd like.'

'Okay Bones,' he mutters, still staring stonily at the television.