A/N: Does owning the boxed set of season 4 count as owning Bones? No? Well there you go. Not mine, so please don't sue.

She fucks men. She screws them, she sleeps with them, she has sex. She gets laid. Dr. Temperance Brennan is sure that she has never, not once in her life, made love. And she used to think she'd never want to.

After all, the term, making love is an irrational phrase. One doesn't actually create anything during sex, besides endorphins and adrenaline. Romance novels and psychology tell her that to enjoy sex, there must be some sort of emotional connection to go along with the physical aspects, and she's simply never found that to be the case. She loves sex, and it's certainly not because she's ever been in love with any of the men she's fucked.

She fucked her professor, but even as a young student, she knew that he was merely becoming her teacher in another way. It was never about love; it was about the way he went down on her in his office, sweeping term papers and memos off his desk in favor of her body.

She planned to screw a man who belonged to a cult, a guy hunting for his father, and a murderous firefighter, simply because she thought she'd have a good time. She's fallen under the spell of many a man, all in the pursuit of a good fuck. It wasn't about love; it was about biological fulfillment. That's what she tells herself, so she can wake up every day and keep searching for someone else. So she can pretend Booth isn't right, and that she doesn't need anything more.

She slept with Sully, because he was attractive, funny, ambitious, and an FBI agent. She told herself he was an ideal sexual partner. Very good technique, well-endowed. He had a boat, for God's sake. But somehow she knew that as attracted to Sully she was, there was a certain other FBI agent she wanted even more. So she never got to love the man she was screwing, and she thinks maybe Sully always knew she never would. When he sailed away from her, she knew their relationship, whatever it was, wasn't about love.

She had sex with her deep-sea welder, simply because he was there, he was well-structured, and he was different enough from Booth that she could focus on him, and not call out the wrong name as she came. The welder was unintelligent and dull, but he was damn good in bed, and that was all she'd ever needed for a pleasurable time. But she's not sure if that's true anymore.

Booth once told her that making love was when two people became one. She knew at the time that he was speaking metaphorically, and not literally. He spoke of breaking the laws of physics, and miracles, and as she listened, she found herself falling under his spell. She found herself believing in making love, and miracles, and connections deeper than what she had ever felt.

Booth had something she'd never experienced. He had love. He made love. She tried desperately to keep herself from wanting the same thing.

All her life, Dr. Temperance Brennan has fucked men. She's screwed them, she's slept with them, she's had sex. She's gotten laid. But she has never made love. And she used to think she'd never want to. She used to think it wasn't possible, that it was a myth constructed by illogical romantics who were unsatisfied with their sex lives. But when she thinks about Special Agent Seeley Booth with a light in his eyes and a rasping voice, extolling the virtues of a true connection, she thinks maybe she's missing out on something.

Maybe she wants to make love.