A/N: I just can't seem to go on more than a couple of days without writing anything. Here is a small piece that has been running through my head for the past twenty-four hours, in Bones' POV.

Disclaimer: I own nothin', as usual.

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I feel numb as I push the door to my apartment. After the funeral, Booth dropped me off at the lab but I didn't feel like working. So for the first time in years, I took the afternoon off. Dr. Goodman understood. He even almost pushed me out of the lab. I wonder why?

I just can't stop thinking about Booth and what he told me in the cemetery. His past as a sniper doesn't sickened me as much anymore. Sure he killed a lot of people, but with each shot he said he died a little bit. Not that I thought Booth was heartless but I did wonder how a person could work as a sniper and not feel some kind of guilt for killing another human being. Now I guess I understand a little bit more.

The child, I can imagine how he felt when he saw his father fall to the ground. Booth is right. That little boy probably didn't know who his father was or why he was killed. To this day, he probably doesn't even know who shot him. I can understand the pain he must be feeling. I still don't even know what happened to my own parents and even though I'm pretty sure they are dead, I don't even know why or who killed them. The hardest part in something like that is not knowing they are dead, it's not knowing what happened to them. That's something I can understand.

I can't help but wonder how hard it was for Booth to keep this a secret for so long. It must have tortured him inside. I was surprised when Booth started talking. I wasn't really expecting it since we never really had a 'personal' conversation. Sure, we're friends but today was our first serious conversation. I don't really think talking about my parents could be considered a personal conversation. It's not like I had told him how I felt about their disappearance.

All of this leads me to wondering why he chose me. He knows that I run away from these types of conversation, yet he still went and done it. I'm actually a bit surprised at myself for staying until the end. Every inch of my body told me to run away the second he opened his mouth, still I stayed. And the more serious the conversation got, the louder the voice in my head screamed for me to run away, that this wasn't my place, that I shouldn't be trusted with that information. Again, I stayed. I stayed for him.

Angela would have been proud of me because of that. She's the one who told me to be there for him, that sometimes a simple touch is all is needed. In our case, it was needed. I can't say I was a bit surprised when Booth's hand covered mine and even more surprised as he started to draw tiny circles with his thumb over the top of my hand. I was too engrossed in the conversation at the time to realize what was happening. It is only now that I do.

Our relationship is changed forever. We had already gotten close over the last months we have been working together but today, it changed once more. I'm not sure if it was for the worst or the better. I guess I'll just have to wait for tomorrow and see. Right now, I just need to take a nap. On this thought, I lay down on my bed and close my eyes.

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The museum is quiet when I arrive but it's no different from other mornings. I'm usually the first one arrived anyway. I walk to my office, unlock the door and step in. I freeze. On my desk, in a vase, stands a dozen of flowers.

Narrowing my eyes, I walk closer and start looking for a card or a note that might tell me who sent me the flowers. I find a little tag attached to one of the flowers. I slowly untangle it and open it. The handwriting is unmistakable.

Thank you for being such a good friend.

Love,

Booth

I smile as I read the note a second time and I feel my heart racing in my chest even though I'm not sure why it's beating so rapidly.

In the quietness of the lab, I hear the sliding doors open. It's probably Dr. Goodman. He's always the second one here. I put the card down on my desk and bend towards the flowers. They smell really good. I can't believe Booth sent me flowers to thank me for being there for him.

I hear footsteps behind me but I ignore them. I continue to stare at the flowers. Nobody has ever sent me flowers. Well, that's not true. Michael sent me flowers when we first started dating but, for some reason, this isn't the same. Michael was my boyfriend. Booth is only my friend. Do friends really send flowers?

The footsteps are getting louder and nearer and I have no choice but to turn around. It's my survival instinct. I need to know who's coming to see if I need to protect myself.

My eyes fall on Booth as he slowly makes his way to my office. As our eyes lock, I see with my peripheral vision that a smile just broke on his face. In his eyes run a variety of emotions that I cannot quite pinpoint. I smile back.

He steps in my office, our eye contact never breaking. An unknown force pushes me towards him. Soon, we are standing very close. Yet, it feels normal, like we are meant to be standing this close. For once in my life, I don't question what I'm feeling.

He gathers me in his arms and I bring my arms around his neck. He's holding me really tight which makes me wonder if he's feeling well. I don't know how long we've been standing like that when I feel his warm breath against my ear. I try my best not to shiver.

"Thank you." He whispers in my ear.

I just strengthened the hold I have on him because I don't know what I'm supposed to say in situations like this one.

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If enough of you beg me, I might just write Booth's POV.