A/N: The quote Angela referenced in The Priest in the Churchyard has been scrawled in one of my notebooks for a long time…and after the mistletoe kiss, I couldn't help but wonder…for Booth and Brennan, did the journey really end with lovers meeting, or was it just the beginning? And trying to find an answer turned into a story idea…

Many, many thanks to Wills for her support and encouragement in getting this story onto the page.

Hope you enjoy! –AnaG

Journey's End

O, mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

-Twelfth Night, II, iii

She was on the run.

Standing completely still over a table of bones covered by a canvas tent in the middle of the South American jungle. Visible to at least half a dozen graduate students at that exact moment. But, still, on the run.

It had only taken her three days into the trip to admit it to herself. Three days of picking up the satellite phone to call him because a day without hearing his voice felt incomplete. Three days of turning to look over her shoulder, expecting to find him there because he always was.

So why was she still in El Brujo, two weeks beyond her original commitment?

Because you're afraid.

No. No, I'm not.

Fear has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

She swiped at the sweat beading on her forehead, annoyed at the thoughts that refused to retreat. Drawing her mouth into a determined line, she bent over the mottled surface of a femur. After several minutes of frustrated focus, she placed the magnifier on the wooden surface and gripped the edge of the table. Head bowed, she closed her eyes. The scent of loamy earth and aged bones receded. The cloying humidity dissipated and the incessant trills of insects faded. And she allowed the memory to return.

Like brother and sister. Colleagues. French people meeting on the street.

But it hadn't been. It had been…Booth. She had lied to herself. Thought that it could be compartmentalized into a Christmas favor between two friends. That the strong flicker of curiosity of what it would be like to kiss him was completely natural and wasn't a factor.

What consequences could there be? All she had to do was close her eyes and count to five.

Back in the rainforest of Peru, she gave a short derisive laugh at how blind she had been. How foolish.

She had remained rational for…oh, far less than one of Caroline's damn 'steamboats'. An instant to process the fact that she was kissing Booth, that this is what it felt like to kiss Booth. To catalogue the sensation of his lips against hers, the feel of his breath against her skin, the proximity of his body to hers. A fraction of second to understand that she had wanted to kiss him, had wanted him.

After that she had been lost. Had lost herself. Even weeks later, she could feel the flush of heat in her cheeks as she recalled the moment when she realized she was clutching the lapels of his coat, that Caroline was there, that she had crossed the line between matter-of-fact and…

"Bones, are you okay?"

Booth.

Heart instantly racing, she looked up, expecting to find him there, waiting for her with a smile on his face. Instead, she found herself looking into the concerned eyes of one of the grad students assigned to her team.

"Wh-what did you call me?"

"Dr. Brennan? I'm sorry. I just asked if you were okay. You were…"

She stared blankly at the young woman, the wake of the adrenaline slumping her shoulders, leaving behind dismay at the pronounced disappointment that he hadn't come after her.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Suddenly weary of it all, she stood and slowly stripped the latex gloves from her hands as she looked around the makeshift workspace. It seemed so foreign to her now. How had she become this person? The rational explanations built around anthropological inevitabilities and simple biological reactions had fallen by the wayside, all of the emotions bleeding out of the compartments that she had assigned them. It was affecting her work and…

"I…I think I just need to get some rest. Would you mind…?"

She waved her hand over the remains and tools scattered over the table. The girl quickly set to work preparing the items for storage, still talking as she gathered the scattered equipment.

"Sure, Dr. Brennan. No problem. You've been working crazy hours since you arrived.

And the canteen is still open. Maybe a good meal will…"

At the young woman's words, Brennan felt an involuntary smile form on her face, then fall away.

"I will. Thanks, Susan."

"It's Sarah. And you're welcome."

The correction was lost on Brennan, who had already turned away, oblivious to the curious expression on the face of the young woman watching her exit from the tent.