Hello all. It's been a while since I've written a fan fiction! I usually write Castle, but I tried my hand at Bones since that is my recent obsession. This was an idea I got after seeing this scene on TV so enjoy. Also: If you have any ideas for more Bones fan fiction please let me know! Reviews are always welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or it's characters.

Booth and Brennan walked down the stairs outside the Hoover in a tense silence. It was as if they were surrounded by a bubble, and any words they spoke would pop the bubble and send their world crashing down around their ears.

In love with each other. That's what Sweets said. He actually put the words out there in the universe, something Booth hadn't had the guts to do. He couldn't bear to look at Bones when Sweets voiced his conclusion. He couldn't bear to see the dismissal in her eyes.

One of them had to break the stalemate. And it apparently it had to be Booth because he was the gambler. "For once, make that work for you," Sweets had said. All it took was that encouragement and the itch Booth had been working years to get rid of came rushing back as if it never left.

When he came back from the army he took up gambling because he needed something. Something to shut his mind off. Something else to do with his hands besides kill people. Listening to dice roll on green felt, and shiny machines ding, and gold coins hit together was easier than hearing the bullets shooting from his rifle over and over again. It was easier to see kings and queens and aces than the life leave the bodies through his scope. Gambling was a way for him to get that rush without taking someone's life.

He suddenly stopped walking and turned towards her. She took his cue to stop and looked at him quizzically.

"I'm the gambler." he'd started.

Bones just looked at him, a small questioning smile on her face as she was unsure where he was going with that. All she could think of was that case they worked in Vegas. They'd walked into the casino and she'd panicked forgetting about his battle with addiction. "You're a degenerate gambler," she'd pointed out. He was quick to correct her then. "Former gambler." Former. The lack of the word former in what he'd just said worried her.

Booth didn't even realize how quick he had been to take up his old identity. He wasn't a gambler anymore. Or, he hadn't been until now.

"I believe in giving this a chance. Look, I wanna give this a shot," he said.

Booth felt the familiar rush race through him. Somehow the words he'd just said had tasted the same as the words "hit me."

Brennan felt nauseated. He was using all the wrong words. He wanted "a chance", "a shot", as if this was one of the casino games he had found a home in long ago. It was as though he thought she was something he could win if he played his cards right.

She needed him to come back from the ledge he was blindly stumbling towards. She had to say something, something to root him in reality and make him realize that this couldn't be a gamble.

"You mean us?" She asked. He nodded at her and his eyes silently begged her. "No. The FBI won't let us work together as a couple-"

"Don't do that," he interrupted. "That is no reason why we can't.."

He trailed off and she looked down at hands for a split second, noticing the restlessness that seemed to be coursing through his fingertips. Brennan could feel her breath getting stuck in her throat as she watched his fingers move non stop. She knew what he was looking for. He needed something to feed his addiction that was suddenly starving, something to play the game with.

Booth's heart was beating wildly in his chest and his fingers were fidgeting and itching to have something in their grasp. He just needed something. A hand of cards, a pair of dice, anything to relieve the overwhelming didn't even care that all his progress with battling this addiction was slipping away like sand between his fingers. Maybe he wasn't betting away all his money, but instead he was losing something much worse. He was losing her heart.

Within the few seconds since he had stopped talking he grabbed her and crashed his lips against hers.

He needed her to understand. He needed her to say yes. He loved her.

Brennan kissed him back for a few seconds but instead of feeling want pour from his mouth into hers, all she felt was desperation. He was desperate.

Then something else clicked in her head. She was his deck of cards, his dice. That thought made her sick.

Brennan was falling into her own rabbit hole of rationality and sadness. He was attempting to crack her thick armor of rationale all on a gamble. That armor kept her safe. He was suddenly trying to rid her of her protection from the hurt the world threw at her.

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"No, no." She said tears starting to well in her eyes.

"Why? Why?" He asked her, and it sounded as if he was begging. His eyes were wide and they moved around maniacally.

Booth could feel that panic he used to feel when he was dealt a bad hand, knowing that he was about to lose it all.

"You-you thought you were protecting me, but you're the one who needs protecting." She responded.

"Protecting from what?"

"From me!" She cried as she started to break down, tears running freely down her face. "I don't have your kind of open heart."

Brennan couldn't bear to hurt him and she knew that she would if she agreed to being with him. She wasn't capable of relying on anyone else. She was way too independent to love anyone. She couldn't consider someone else before making her decisions. That wasn't something she'd ever had to do as she was forced to think for, and rely on, herself at such a young age. It felt like an unbreakable habit.

He heard her words but he didn't he didn't process them. He needed her to say yes so badly, that he wasn't listening to the reasons why she felt like she couldn't. All he could focus on his own need, his own desperation.

"Just give it a chance..that's all I'm asking." He pleaded.

But she couldn't give it a chance. She didn't believe in chance. She believed in facts. He was asking her to give up everything she believed in just to "give it a chance."

"No, you said it yourself; the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."

That's why Sweets encouragement for Booth to gamble on them was ill-conceived. Gambling had never worked for him when it concerned his money. Why would it work when it involved love? Love wasn't a gamble. That's what Booth had been trying to teach her the whole time he'd known her. How could she believe in this if he didn't even believe in it enough to consider it more than a gamble.

"Well, then let's go for a different outcome here, alright? Let's just – hear me out, alright? You know when you talk to couples who, you know, have been in love for 30 or 40 or 50 years, alright, it's always the guy who says 'I knew.' I knew. Right from the beginning."

Booth was the most important person in her life. She couldn't lose him because she couldn't love him the way he wanted to be loved. He wanted children and marriage and she couldn't give him that. She didn't know if she could give him 30 or 40 or 50 years. He was asking her to give him everything on the spot and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She believed in facts. And the only facts she had were that every one she ever loved had left. He knew that. He knew her past. How could he just ask her to disregard that?

"Your evidence is anecdotal." She said, panicking inside. She needed evidence.

"I'm that guy. Bones, I'm that guy. I know."

He loved her. He loved her with every part of him. He knew he could make her happy if she just gave him a chance. Why wouldn't she just give him a chance? He had told her once that there was someone out there that she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. He knew that she was that person for him and that he was that person for her.

"I – I am not a gambler; I'm a scientist. I can't change. I don't know how. I don't know how."

He looked in her eyes and he knew. He knew it was over. She wasn't saying yes.

"Please don't look so sad." She said.

There was no way for him to not look sad. His heart had just been shattered and he got dealt the worst hand imaginable. The itch was gone. It was replaced with another familiar feeling. It was the one at the end of the night when he had lost every dollar he had.