A special thank you to JHMaughey for her input and for taking time to beta for me. It's greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer: *Checks personal possessions* Nope, still not mine. Just borrowing them for a bit. I promise to give them back when I'm finished! ;)

For Michael

One More Night

She stepped into the dimly lit bar, the soft yellow lights casting eerie shadows across the various tables and patrons. Her eyes found him immediately, his normally broad shoulders hunched over the end of the bar. Her heart pulled in her chest at the sight of him sitting hurt and broken.

She approached him quickly and quietly, his head turning at hearing her soft footsteps. His glance was quick but still she could see the hurt and the anger. She slid onto the stool beside him.

"You drunk?" she asked, unsure of what to expect from her partner.

"Relatively," he said, shaking his head. "Relatively, I'm drunk. Meaning I'm drunker than usual. But no, I am not a drunk."

"You sound … something." She watched him for a moment, the expression on his face like that of someone fighting back tears. "Hannah called me."

She knew the moment the words were said they were the wrong ones. His face stiffened immediately, his jaw tight at the mention of his now ex-girlfriend's name.

"Just – I really – I don't want to talk about that. Okay?" The tears threatened to fall again. "I'm just – I'm over it. I'm done, okay?" His voice faltered through the words.

She watched him with concern. In the six years of their partnership, she had never seen him as torn and broken as he appeared now.

"So … what happens next?" she asked, a small question of hope in her voice.

"What happens next?" He repeated the words back to her, each one dripping with disdain, the anger becoming more evident. She dropped her head, feeling suddenly helpless and unprepared for the situation.

"What – I mean, you like evidence, right Bones? Well, here's the evidence." His voice cracked again as he fought the lump of emotion in his throat. "The evidence is that there's something wrong. Here. Now I – I fell in love with a woman. I had a kid. She doesn't want to marry me."

She watched him begin to break, her own heart breaking with his. She longed to reach out to him but held back, knowing instinctively that her touch would not be welcome.

"And then, the next woman … well … she's-" He stopped, his voice cracking again as a single tear escaped his eye.

"Me," she said matter-of-factly. He picked up his glass and she wondered briefly how much he had already had to drink.

"Yeah. And now – I mean, what is it with women who just don't want what I'm offering here?" he asked, setting the glass down again roughly on the bar. She moved to speak, longing to tell him how much she did want him.

"Booth-" she started, the truth of her feelings for him ready to spill out.

"No!" He cut her off. "Just – You know what? Drink." The anger returned. "Drink," he said, toasting his shot to the other the bartender had poured for her. He downed the shot, slamming the glass on the bar as she swallowed her own, the warm amber liquid stinging her throat.

"I'm just – I'm just mad. I'm just really mad at all of you." She winced a little at his words, the tiny daggers metaphorically stabbing at her love for him. "I am just mad."

She watched as he spoke, intent on catching his words. She knew he needed her now more than ever before, even if she wasn't the heart of their relationship. She had to be there for him. Her brain tried to rationalize that fact but quickly gave up. There was no way to explain how she felt. It was something she just knew she had to do.

"Okay. So, you wanna know how this is gonna work?" He straightened a bit now, sobering a little. "Me and you are partners. That's what we do. We're partners, alright? And I love that. I think that's great. And, uh, we're good people who catch bad people. Right?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. And – and we argue. We go back and forth. We're partners. And sometimes, after we solve a case, we come here and we celebrate. That's what we do. We celebrate. So, as far as I can see, that is what happens next. Are you okay with that?"

Am I okay with being his partner? she thought. The question raced through her mind. She desperately wanted to scream that she wasn't okay with simply being his partner, but he continued before she could respond.

"Great, because y'know if you are, I'll tell you what. You stay here and you have a drink with me. All right? Maybe, uh … Maybe we have a little small talk, chitchat. And if you're not, well … you can leave." She felt her heart sink at those words.

Does he really want me to leave? Did my turning him down that night really hurt him that bad? That he doesn't want to be partners anymore? Fear gripped her.

"There's the door. And, uh, tomorrow I'll find you a new FBI guy." He swallowed the last of his bourbon. She sat for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. How could he think I would want to work with anyone but him? I will only work with Booth. We're partners. Partners!

"Those are my only choices?" she asked, finally finding her voice. She was scared, more scared than she had ever been; scared of losing her partner, her best friend; scared of what would happen to him, to them.

"Yeah," he said bitterly. "Those are your only choices."

She thought for a moment, her brain kicking in once again. Being a partner is better than no partner at all. Being a partner is better than no friendship at all.

"Then I'll have a drink." She tossed back the shot, slamming the glass on the counter as he had, signaling the bartender for another.

They sat in silence, alternating between shots of whiskey and sips of bourbon for him, water for her. They talked a little about the case but nothing more. It was an uncomfortable silence, but she knew not to voice the questions she longed to have answered.

She wanted to know what happened between him and Hannah. She had told Brennan of the proposal and how she said no but had offered no other information on the subject. The scientist in her desired to know what made him feel he should propose marriage; the woman longed to know if there was still room in his heart for her. With each shot the silence between them grew heavier until, at last, the bartender called last call.

He excused himself to the restroom, stumbling to the back of the bar while she paid the tab for the night. She watched him return a minute later, his shoulders still hunched, an air of desperation and despair surrounding him.

She helped him outside, hailing a cab to take them home. A soft rain began to fall, adding to the gloomy feel of the situation. He slid onto the seat as she sat down beside him, giving the driver her address.

He leaned against her, the alcohol finally taking him over. She supported him with an arm around his shoulders as he snored softly beside her. She thought back over the past few months, the hurt and pain of the situation catching up with her at last.

He woke as the cab pulled to a halt in front of her building, tossing a few crumpled bills at the driver as she helped him stand. He knew he should protest her help, go home, and wallow in the solitude of his own surroundings. But a small part of him remembered that Hannah was there, or had been there, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to face that yet.

He followed her into her apartment, haphazardly tossing his coat across the back of a chair before staggering to the couch. She met him there with a bottle of water and aspirin, doing what she could to help combat the hangover he was sure to have in the morning.

She sat across from him on the coffee table, her heart hurting at the sight of him as he downed the aspirin silently. He was a good man, a good father, and he didn't deserve to be hurting. She knew she was a source of pain for him as well, but a small part of her hoped he would forgive her; if not tonight, then someday.

"Booth," she whispered, wanting to break the silence but still unsure what to say. His eyes met hers and for the first time she could see every bit of the pain he was experiencing. It frightened her and she sucked in a breath. He leaned forward, setting the empty water bottle on the table. His hands dropped between his knees as they sat facing each other. After a moment, he sat a little straighter, sliding forward to the edge of the couch.

"I just – I just want to know what it is," his voice was low, free of anger. "Why don't women want to be with me, Bones?"

Her hand rose on its own accord to touch his face, the stubble of his cheek tickling her palm. He leaned into her touch without thinking. She whispered his name again, silently asking him to look at her. She longed to tell him how much she wanted to be with him but somewhere within she knew he was still breakable. And I will not cause him any more pain.

She jerked from her thoughts at the feel of his lips on her palm, soft and barely there, his breath warm on her skin. She gasped in surprise. His hands moved to rest on her knees, his touch burning her skin through the fabric of her slacks. At her surprise, his eyes met hers again in the dim light.

In the space of a breath his hand was cupping her neck, his lips pressed hard against hers. She was taken aback by the sudden change but her body responded immediately and her lips opened to his kiss.

She had missed him since they'd left Washington a little over a year ago; and even more so since their return. She missed the camaraderie between them, missed being able to talk with him, missed the "guy hugs" they shared. But now she allowed her mind to memorize the way his mouth fit against hers, the way his body was touching hers in the slightest way. She noted, not for the first time, how well their bodies matched and fit together, like two halves of the same whole.

His hands slipped beneath the thin cotton of her shirt, his fingertips creating sparks along her skin. She raked her nails across his back, the already charged air between them growing thicker. He moved to her neck, sucking and kissing at the delicate skin, his lips tugging at the pulse beating beneath her skin. A moan escaped her, signaling she enjoyed the tiny sensations shooting down her spine.

He leaned back into the cushions, pulling her from the table into his lap, holding her against him. Their mouths battled for control as his hands wound tighter into her hair, his fingers splayed through the silky strands as his fingers cupped her head.

This isn't right. This needs to stop. He's in pain and he'll only regret this in the morning. You both will. She knew it was wrong but when she pulled from the kiss, he rolled his hips up. Her hips met his in response.

She exhaled his name as she settled her forehead against his. "We can't." He released the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders tensing at her words.

"Why not, Bones? I want to. You know that. You want to. I know that. So why not?" His hands found her sides again, pushing the fabric a little higher than before. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her back, slowly crawling higher. He could feel the goose bumps rise on her skin at his touch and it drove his actions further.

She leaned back, her arms not moving from their place on his neck. "You're correct in the facts, Booth. But you're hurting emotionally. And I know you're hurting. And I want to comfort you, but not like this. Not as a one-night stand." She let her words sink in for a moment, dropping her arms from around him. She removed his hands from her back, her skin tingling from the loss of his touch.

"Bones," he groaned. "C'mon. You know it wouldn't be like that for us. There's more between us. We both know that."

"But Booth-" He cut her off with a kiss, his lips pressing insistently against hers, his arms holding her tightly against his chest. The heat between them grew quickly. He pushed her shirt up and off; his soon followed. His arms held her tight against his chest and he moaned at the feeling of her body against his. She sighed, content, as their lips parted.

They stayed for a moment, each speaking volumes with only a glance. In the space of seconds the partners shared an entire conversation. She nodded minutely to the silent question.

I'm normally not one to appreciate stories bringing B&B together so soon after Hannah leaving - we all need a mourning period! - however this idea bit at me and could not be sated anywhere but here. Another chapter to come! Please take a moment and share your thoughts. As always, thank you for taking time to read! xx