Author's Note: Although I am not as proud of this one as I am my last story, here it is. Parts of the journal are actually taken from my own journal.

I hope you enjoy reading, and if I may ask politely, I'd appreciate it if you would leave feedback. Both positive and negative feedback is welcome.

As always, I do not own any of the characters.

Thanks for reading!

XO

Debra

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She was stuck in his car until she was truthful… He made that very clear. "Until you tell me what is bothering you, I will keep driving. I want honesty this time, Bones. I do not want to hear 'nothing' or 'I'm fine.' We both know that is a lie, so don't try it today. Honesty is the only thing that will work right now."

She refused to look at him, instead looking out the car window. He could tell she was thinking, and chose to be silent until she spoke. The two sat in silence, and although there was tension, it was comfortable tension. She knew he was only looking out for, and his concern was valid. She had been withdrawn lately. Realizations had begun to creep in, scaring her and causing her to evaluate her relationship with him.

Breaking the silence, she spoke. "If I promise to talk to you tonight, will you take me back to the lab?"

He glanced at her, then back to the road before he spoke. "How do I know you will actually talk to me?"

"Because I promised." It was simple and truthful. She had never broken a promise to him, and she didn't plan on it now.

He had taken her back to the lab, and was instructed to arrive at eight. She promised to cook dinner, and they would talk. Standing outside her apartment, he felt nervous, not knowing what to expect.

Brennan had been acting weird for a while now. When he would ask her what was bothering her, she would state she was fine, and act even more strange the next day. When he finally had enough, he pushed her till she gave in.

She opened the door before he knocked, looking at him with a puzzled look. "Were you planning on knocking or did you want to stand in the hallway all night?" She flashed a quick smile before turning and walking into the kitchen.

He followed her, the mixture of her scent and the food intoxicating him. "Smells great, Bones. You know you didn't have to cook though."

"We have to eat sometime; Might as well do it together."

She moved quickly around the kitchen, finishing up the last minute details before they sat down to eat. She cooked Macaroni and Cheese, his favorite, with mixed vegetables on the side for obvious health reasons. The wine was poured, and the two sat on the sofa to eat. They talked every once in a while, but for the most part, comfortable silence filled the room.

She gathered his plate when he was finished, placing it in the sink before retreating to her room. She returned seconds later with what appeared to be a journal in hand. She held it out to him and spoke. "Read it; it should explain a lot of things. Once you're finished, we'll talk."

As he began to read, she walked into the kitchen, and began doing the dishes. He felt as if he was invading her privacy, but because she gave him permission, he began to read.

In the beginning, it was pretty basic… she wrote of her annoyances at work, difficult cases they had worked on, and limbo cases she solved.

One entry caught his eye. He remembered the conversation they had in the car, and wondered if she had gone home to write.

From a young age, I've learned that those you love hurt you the most. They don't mean to; it just happens. My parents left to protect me… I know this, but I can't help but imagine what my life would be like now if they would have stayed. Would my outlook on life be the same? Would I feel like I could actually trust those around me? I will never know the answers… My parents left to protect me. All I know is that it hurt me more to know they would actually leave…

Not knowing how to respond, he kept reading. Back to the same basic complaints, writing about work and such.

After the case involving her father, the entries became more personal and heartfelt. It was as if she listened to his advice, but only letting her heart take over in private.

Sometimes I feel as if I am all alone. In reality, I know I am not. I am constantly surrounded by people, whether professionally or personally.

'Does she truly feel alone?' He asked himself. He wondered if he could have done anything to make her feel that way. As he kept reading, he realized there was so much pain she kept inside.

I feel things… I am not cold like everyone thinks I am. Things affect me just like they do anyone else. I've just learned throughout my life that I can't show my feelings or react to a situation. When I do, people get hurt. I get hurt. I've learned to bottle up my feelings, keeping them inside. I relate it to having a mahogany box and I keep my feelings inside, only bringing it out on special occasions. My feelings are kept deep inside, only for me to feel, to know.

He wished he could take it all away. Their relationship had grown so much in the past three years. In the beginning, it was all he could do to get her to talk about anything besides a case. Now, she had her moments when she completely opened up her heart, and told him how she was feeling. They were few and far between, but they were still there. He knew he had made progress, but never realized how far he still had to go.

He kept reading, wondering what else she had chosen to share with him. The next entry that caught his eye was entitled 'Angela.' He assumed it would reflect on how Angela had always been there for Brennan, but instead, found the opposite.

You, above everyone else should see through my lies. After all these years and late night conversations, do you not know me? Or is it that I am not that important? Or do you simply not care?

He knows and acknowledges when I am lying, seeks out answers to why I act the way I do, and realizes I am not as strong as I pretend to be. 'I'm fine' does not mean I am really okay. Recognize the code.

Booth questioned if he were the 'he' Brennan wrote about. He strived to seek out the truth from her any time she was hurting because he cared. His heart broke for her as he kept reading, feeling her pain through her words.

You say that I am acting strange and quiet. I will never admit it, but sometimes I need to be pushed to be open up. Don't you know that by now? Or again, do you simply not care? Are you too blinded by your own problems to realize the pain you are causing me?

Again, something else I'll never admit, but I am jealous of Jack. The time and effort you put into your relationship does not compare to ours. You've always said your best girl friend should be there through it all, realizing your pain, catching your tears, and causing a smile. But yet lately, you have not shown that.

He has done those things though. He has proven what a true, good best friend should be like.

Booth found himself again questioning if he was who Brennan spoke so highly of. Sometimes he felt as if she was annoyed by his constant concern, but he had been wrong. She appreciated it, and felt comforted by it. The next entry, entitled 'Booth,' caused a slight smile to appear, but quickly faded as he began to read.

There are days when I feel as if I can't conceal my true feelings. Days that everything seems to go wrong. I fight with my best friend; work no longer provides the satisfaction in normally does… On days like these, I leave work on time, come home, and actually cook. I pour myself a glass of wine, eat my meal, and write. But this writing is unlike writing for my novel. I write from my heart… Everything I try to keep inside comes pouring out. It's therapeutic somehow. I know I should express my feelings to someone who can respond instead of writing them down. Sweets would say I need a healthy release, and in all honesty, I know he is right. Angela is my best girl friend and really the only true one I have. She knows more about me than almost everyone in my life. Even though we are so close, I can honestly count the times I have cried in front of her, let her comfort me, or tell her how I am feeling. Then there's Booth.

Booth.

Somehow he has found a place in my heart. He's seen inside me, even though I've done my best to keep him out. I think I may love him. He will never know that though. I couldn't live without him, and I'm afraid if he knows, he will leave like everyone else has. Having him in my life as my partner is better than not having him in my life at all. I long for the day when I can turn to him, have him hold me as I cry and kiss away my tears. I know he would hold me tight, one hand on the small of my back keeping me close, the other in my hair attempting to stroke away the pain.

His heart skipped a beat as he finished reading. Had she really said she loved him? His heart broke knowing she kept this from him for so long. He too longed for the day he could hold her and not feel guilty for having feelings for his partner.

As he came to the last entry, he read it slowly.

I'm so tired… if I sleep during the day, I'll be up all night. I've got too much work to do, between cases and limbo. But at night, my mind is consumed with him… I try to think about other things, but eventually my mind wonders back to him. Everything around me reminds me of him. I've tried diving into my work… It has always worked in the past. But now, I can't seem to focus. He is everywhere. I think it's time I tell him the truth…

He closed the book, and slowly looked up to see her sitting on the other end of the couch. Being so consumed with reading, he hadn't noticed her presence. She looked afraid, and he noticed the tears that she fought so desperately to keep from falling. He leaned forward, and placed the book on the coffee table. Reaching for her hand, he grabbed it and began to slowly trace circles on it.

Finally, he spoke. "Thank you for letting me read such intimate writings. They were so heart felt and… real. I've never thought of you as cold or distant, and what you have shared with me proved that. The Temperance Brennan I know is caring and giving. She is the smartest woman I know, and the best Forensic Anthropologist I know."

"I am the only Forensic Anthropologist you know, Booth."

"A formality, Bones. Only a formality."

He scooted closer to her on the couch, their bodies now touching, both emitting heat and love. She had looked away a long time ago, an action not surprising to him. Now as he gently turned her face towards his, he saw the tears gently rolling down her face. He used his thumb to dry them up as he spoke.

"There's something I need to tell you, Bones." She looked at him with a mixture of hope and worry. "I have always, and will always love you. I will never willingly hurt you or leave you. I promise."

In an instant, he felt her body pressed up against his. It was barely audible seeing as though she spoke softly into his shirt, but he heard her whisper, "I love you too, Booth."

The two sat wrapped up in each others arms for what seemed an eternity. Feeling her breathing slow, he gently picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. As he crawled into bed, the last thought before drifting off to sleep was that he could love her forever.

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