The room had been stifling.

She stood out on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, trying not to feel the connections that her brain was hurriedly making. The memories that this place stirred up... she'd pushed them away for a very long time now. They didn't need to be rehashed, relived, and allowed to breathe in and out just as she did now. She had buried them long ago. They were dead to her.

Why she was even here at all was a mystery that she had no answer to.

A figure separated itself from the throng of people inside the extravagant house and stepped into the glowing light from the nearly full moon which hung delicately above their heads, surrounded by stars and blanketed by a transparent blanket of light clouds, their edges tinged grayish-white.

"Brennan?" she asked as she came to stand just to the side of her, not level as she was with the balcony, but nearby enough that she could surely see the side of her face lit by the glow from within the large building. Out here, the noise seemed dulled and far away. She felt alone, even with her company now standing so near to her. "What are you doing out here?"

She sighed and closed her eyes.

It had been a valiant attempt to isolate herself entirely after she had left DC, but inevitably she'd given in to the temptation to talk to her best friend. She had promised to, after all, and when she learned that her advice had been followed, and she wasn't anywhere near the Jeffersonian either... she hadn't been able to resist.

So, a month after she had left for Cambodia, she was greeted with an email for the first time, requesting contact. It had been a surprise that her friend hadn't tried sooner, and one that had, despite her usual rationality, upset her somewhat. That had been a major part of why she had decided to reply. Why, less than an hour later, she was staring with moderately tear-filled eyes at her best friend on the screen of her laptop, both of them laughing and grinning for no reason at all other than seeing each other again. Her friend had been giving her space, she later realized, and she couldn't be more grateful for the alone-time that it had allowed her.

"Too crowded," she answered at last, choosing to open her eyes and stare outwards rather than try to decipher the expressions on her friend's face.

From the corner of her eye, though, she saw her nod in understanding. "This is a bit... different," she murmured. "You know... seeing everyone again."

"Mm..." She made a sound of agreement, not bothering to start up a reasonable conversation. She just wasn't in the mood.

When she had talked to her friend regularly via webcam, she hadn't had to think at all about the world the both of them had left behind. They'd even met up briefly several times when Brennan was passing through France on her way to various other locations. She always made a point to visit when she was near enough, because... she was the last true connection she had to the world she had once lived in. And there was a part of her that was desperate to keep it all with her, even though another part begged her to let it go, because it could only ever cause more pain.

She had chosen to leave for very specific reasons. And it had been the hardest decision of her life. The most painful thing she'd ever done.

And he hadn't stopped her.

A third part of her was still horribly bitter over it.

"Booth didn't come," her friend said, speaking her concerns out loud. She shot her a sharp glance, but didn't respond verbally. They had made an unspoken agreement after they'd first talked again following her departure that the taboo subject of the life she'd led before would not be mentioned.

To think that it wouldn't have been brought up, tonight of all nights, though, was foolhardy, and she knew it.

All she could do was deal with it, and hope that tomorrow she would still be the same. That she'd still be okay.

Did she want to see him? She didn't even know the answer to that. A homesick part of her soul was so desperate to feed its addiction that sometimes she had even had a hard time not just climbing on a plane and coming back on her own, with no prompting from others. A more reasonable portion, this one of her brain, told her that it would hurt worse than it did already if she even caught a glimpse of him. Because a glimpse of him was a glimpse of a future that she had passed by, that was long gone and now unreachable.

It was not something to dwell on.

"Sweetie," her friend started softly, "Why did you come back?"

She blinked away the start of moisture in her eyes. "Ange... I don't..." she shook her head. "I'm not even sure. This was... this was not a good idea. At all."

She glanced inside, looking for the quickest exit route. Angela grabbed her arm, suspecting her next move.

"I talked to Hodgins, about everything."

That made her attention focus, and her thoughts about making an escape dwindle away. Hodgins was another taboo subject. Something that neither of them brought up, because Angela had made the decision to move on, and just as Brennan hadn't been stopped... neither had she.

"We didn't say much... but I felt better about how I left things with him. And I think he felt better too. I've decided to stay, Bren."

Silence reigned as she tried to think clearly. "You're going to... what? Move back in here, with Hodgins?"

He had invited them all back, but Brennan hadn't expected that it was because of anything Angela had said. She'd thought it had been more of an attempt on his part to bring them all together again. Never had she thought it would actually work, either. She suddenly regretting coming even more. Even if she never really saw Angela face to face while they were off traveling... at least they were both out and away from here. At least... at least she wasn't the only one missing.

And now she would be.

Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't know what else to think, now. There was so little left for her to cling to.

"I might," Angela said, answering her question. "I'm not sure yet, and there's still... a lot of stuff to get through. Three years doesn't just get erased in one conversation. I'm not sure he and I will ever be fully on the same level again. But the important thing is that we're willing to try."

"And what, I'm not? Is that what you're going for, here?" she said bitingly, her eyes starting to blaze with anger. She didn't want to be cornered, or told what to do. She wanted to be free, without the worries that had held her down for so long. Without the terrors of change hunting her at every step she took.

"Neither of you are," Ange said gently. "I just... wanted you to know where I stood. And I thought maybe you might consider trying something new, as well. Things are different around here, now."

"What about... him? It's been three years. He promised me that he was going to move on, because I..." she shook her head; not important. "He's not here tonight because he doesn't want to see me. He moved on, and I'm... I'm happy for him. That's what I wanted, when I left."

"We both know that isn't true. And Booth?" She tried not to wince at the use of his name. "Hodgins told me that he hasn't moved on in the slightest. Backwards a little bit, maybe, with the gambling and the drinking... but he barely goes out with women. Barely makes it out of his apartment. I guess he took a month's leave from the FBI just recently. Hodgins thinks he's considering retirement."

"If he was so caught up in the past, he would have come tonight. He knew I'd be here."

Ange glanced over her shoulder, towards the party, and then turned back again. "Maybe he's just as scared as you are."

She made an indignant sound at the back of her throat. "I'm not scared, Ange."

Angela shrugged. "Alright, then. When Booth comes over here about ten seconds after I leave, prove it." She turned and vanished back inside before Brennan could ask her what on earth she meant by that.

And then there he was, standing awkwardly off to the side at the edge of the party, looking out of place. Her breathing stopped short, and her heart began to race as she took in every detail of him. The worry lines that creased his forehead, the neat suit that he wore. The lack of his cocky belt buckle. The plain black tie. His hair was tinged with grey, and the smile lines around his eyes just looked like wrinkles now, sad and... old. He had aged in the three years they had been apart... and it didn't seem real to her.

Whenever she had managed to think about him without breaking down, she had pictured him just as he had been the day she had turned away and gotten on that plane.

As Angela purposefully passed by just in front of him, his eyes flicked up and watched her go before they strayed slowly towards the balcony... and locked with hers.

Just like that, she was lost. She couldn't do anything to look away, or to move from where she stood to leave before he could get to her. He hesitated, shifting his feet, and then began to walk purposefully over to the doors.

He stood there when he got out onto the balcony, a good ten feet away from her, and just stayed where he was, his eyes flicking downwards and out at the vast garden below simultaneously. Anywhere but to her face.

"Booth," she said, her voice strained. The word was unfamiliar to her tongue, but the sound of it in her own voice set off bells in her brain, and warmed her from head to toe. It had been so long... so very long... since she'd last spoken to him. Since she'd last said his name out loud.

He seemed just as affected by it, sucking in his breath in surprise, his eyes widening.

"I wasn't..." she cleared her throat, "I wasn't sure if you would... come tonight."

He coughed nervously. "I didn't know if, uh... you would, either," he said. His voice was a wondrous sound. She wanted to bury herself in it forever, and never have to hear anything else ever again. It had barely changed over the last three years, and she had never felt so grateful for something so foolish in her life.

"I..." she bit back all the questions she desperately wanted to ask. "How are you?" she managed to ask, sounding just a bit too desperate for an answer.

"I'm... I'm doing fine." He seemed awkward. Uncomfortable with their conversation. She wondered agonizingly if he didn't want to be there at all. If he wanted nothing more than to get away from this conversation entirely. "What about... you?"

She bit her lip, and then raised her eyes to meet his, "Fine," she answered quietly. "I've been... you know. Busy with... work."

He nodded, but his eyes were unreadable.

"So you... you've been..." she didn't even know what she was trying to ask, and just let herself trail off. Looking away. She hated this uncomfortable air that surrounded them.

She stood on the steps outside the courthouse, and sensed rather than heard Booth come towards her. She turned, and he pulled her into his arms, the look on his face there only for her. She melted into his arms, relieved that he knew exactly what she needed right at that moment.

He held a plastic pig out to her, grinning like a little kid, and they both laughed as she took it from him, understanding the gesture completely, and feeling unerringly grateful to him for it.

They grinned at each other over the table at their usual booth in the Diner as the old British psychologist left them alone together. They barely even needed to think about it as both of them raised their hands to slap a high-five.

She held up a little glass dolphin. Heard him tell her that it was evidence of something else, something that wasn't a crime. She felt the honesty and the care in his voice, and the warmth that it brought so easily to her.

Where had that gone? Where had the easiness, and the simple days of just... knowing each other... where had they disappeared to? She had known she would be giving them up, on that day that she made the choice to leave for good... but it still hurt to remember the way things had been, and to see the stark difference with the way they were now. And then, to know as well that they would never be the same ever again.

Where was this whole little reunion going, anyways? Did they really have the opportunity to regain that chance they'd passed up so long ago? Could they... make this work, if they both were willing to accept each others' flaws and move forward with them?

"Parker's in middle school now," he supplied. "Sixth grade." Immediately he looked like he regretted saying anything, looking away.

"I bet he's a very bright boy," she said, surprising him with the comment. "He always... he always was. Very smart."

He nodded thoughtfully, watching her now.

She took in a shaky breath before she spoke again, knowing what these next few words could mean.

"I missed you."

He blinked a few times, his mouth opening and then snapping shut.

"I missed you, too." He coughed slightly, again. "I haven't really... I haven't been able to... I just missed you," he said at last.

"I heard..." she blinked and looked away, "I've heard you were... considering retiring from the FBI."

"Um... yeah. It's sort of..." a hand brushed through his hair. "It's not really... the same," he murmured, not meeting her eyes.

"I know what you mean," she agreed without hesitation.

This seemed to get his attention. There was a greater interest in his eyes now. A flicker of hope that looked like a star trying to be seen through a dust-coated window.

"So... you've uh... been busy, you said?"

"With work," she said specifically, with a nod. "Not much else."

"Oh."

He was thinking, now, and she saw the wheels spinning in his wonderfully familiar brown eyes. God, she'd missed those eyes. That face. Everything about him.

Why had things gone so horribly?

Oh right. He'd offered her a chance, and she'd been too afraid of hurting him, and herself, to do anything with it. And then of course, he'd had those two months to stop her. To just tell her that he wanted her no matter what, that he didn't care if she didn't have his open heart. That he didn't think she would hurt him.

Only, he'd told her that she was right when she had said she didn't know how to change.

And then he'd watched her leave, without saying a word to stop her.

So why did it seem like he hadn't even tried to move on without her, when that must have been what he wanted all those years ago? He would have stopped her, if he really did care that much. He would have at least tried, wouldn't he have?

If he had actually loved her?

"Do you remember that case we worked, in the subway tunnels?" she said suddenly, recalling the last normal case they'd worked together. Before... everything.

"Yeah," he responded immediately. "And Sweets... poor kid."

"What happened to him?" she asked after a short pause, latching hopefully onto the topic.

"Sweets? He, uh... married Daisy. Not long after... y'know." He gestured at her, and she nodded. It must have been in the months following her departure.

"So he still works... around here?"

"I see him from time to time. Not that he's really... needed anymore. I mean, maybe once or twice I... drop by and ask an opinion. But he's not... assigned to the lab anymore."

"Of course," she said, biting her lip and looking away. He had been assigned to them; why would he still be working with the others when she wasn't there anymore? It only made sense that things had ended up this way.

"When you left..." he started hesitantly. Her eyes instantly widened as she waited for him to go on, but he wasn't looking at her. He stared out into the night, his eyes dark and his face lined with sadness. "I wanted things to go back to the way they were. And I was just... I wished I'd never said anything at all, if it was going to end with you leaving and... not coming back."

She didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent, wondering if he was expecting a response or not. But then he went on off his own volition, and she gave him her full attention, for some reason feeling relieved.

"I didn't move on."

That was all he said, and the silence which followed was practically deafening. Finally, as if it took a great deal of strength and will-power, he flicked his eyes to take in her reaction.

She'd already known that he hadn't, but to here it from him... as a confession of sorts...

"Neither did I," she said with a slight nod, her eyes now reflecting determination as she watched him.

Slowly, he stepped closer. Their last few words to each other were by no means an acceptance of what had happened, or even an apology, but both of them read between the lines.

Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing softly over the skin there and making her shiver slightly. A soft smile played at the corner of his lips, and then he leaned forward and pressed them to hers.

At once, she was assaulted by memories of the three previous times she'd been in the situation. The first... drunk, but... happy, at least. The second... sober, but on a bet... and she'd enjoyed it perhaps a little too much. The third... she had pushed him away, had sent them down the roads that they would follow. The roads that would curve away from one another, neither of them easy to travel upon. Sending them both into gloom and shadow... alone.

And then there was now.

She didn't push him away or pull him closer. She stayed right where she was, her lips moving with his, taking in all that the moment was, and letting it play out the way that it would. Was this still what he wanted? Could he possibly still feel the same way about her that he had three years prior... or was this a last attempt which was destined to fail? Had they been apart too long? Had they actually moved on, without even realizing it?

His touch was gentle but eager, and after a moment she felt his tongue probing for access. Without a second thought, her mind wrapped up in the wonderful, heady sensations, she opened her mouth and allowed him to explore, dueling slightly for control.

When his warm arms wrapped around her, one of them tangling itself in her hair, she suddenly didn't know which sensation was more overwhelming, his lips on hers, or the warmth of his body surrounding her for the first time in far too long. How often had she dreamed of just collapsing into his arms and sending everything back to the way it had been? How many times had she woken up in the morning, gone about her routine, and found herself checking the clock to see if she should expect him at her door with coffee at any moment, ready to give her a ride... only to realize that he was never coming?

They broke apart slowly, and she was surprised to realize that her eyes were blurred with tears. Halfway between embarrassed and ashamed, she went to brush them away, laughing slightly at herself for being so emotional... only to find a hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. Another gentle hand brushed at her eyes on its own, and she found him staring at her with melted chocolate brown eyes. The laugh lines around them were deeper than they had been, sure, but now they were recognizable for what they were.

"Don't leave again," he said pleadingly as they stayed in their positions, trapped in each others' gazes.

Slowly, she shook her head, her breath not quite back to normal. "Are you... are you sure about this?" she managed after a long moment.

He stared at her, and then blinked, a shadow of worry touching the edge of his expression. "I loved you everyday for the five years we were together... if you think that a few years apart could ever change that... well, you were wrong, Bones."

She sucked in a sharp breath in shock, her legs suddenly feeling weak... from both his words, and what he had called her.

He held her steady, clearly concerned, and then grinned. He could still read her, just as clearly as ever...

"Been a long time since you've been called that, huh?"

She nodded dazedly. "I've been..." she shook her head. "I missed that so much," she whispered helplessly. It would be a lie to say that she hadn't accidentally referred to herself as Bones over the past years. To say that she hadn't found it weird to be addressed as Dr. Brennan by every person she saw on a daily basis. To say that she hadn't missed him all the more because of that lost piece of who she was... the part of her that was completed by him.

"I can't leave again," she said finally, her voice firm and her eyes glimmering with a smile. "Booth, I can't... I can't lose you again."

He pulled her close to him and sighed into her hair. "This is where you belong," he whispered softly into her ear.

There was a long journey still ahead of them... one that would not be easy. But their two separate paths had come together once again... and she had never believed anything he'd said more than she did that last statement.

Because this was where she belonged.

With him.

Thoughts? Comments? I really was fascinated by the possibilities from the 100th episode, so this was an interesting turn for me to explore rather than the one I went with for Broken Bridge. I'd love to know what all of you thought of it.