A/N: No idea where this is coming from but I thought I'd have some fun. I do not own any of the characters on Bones because if I did I would have totally written myself in as Booth's love interest. If Bones don't want him, I'll take him! But regardless, don't own any of the characters and I'm just using them for enjoyment. And please review, reviews are more important than air :)

It was good to be back, Seely Booth thought, as he crossed the entryway to the Smithsonian Anthropological Laboratory. He saw Dr. Brennan's mini-squints (mini only because they were graduate students) running around like they had fires under their asses. He chuckled to himself, thinking it quite funny. He missed the sounds of the hustle and bustle, the crazy experiments Hodgins invented, the companionship the group shared. His one year stint with the army had been extended an extra three months due to conditions in the area. He had been in the states for about three weeks, but he decided to take Parker on a vacation to Florida so he could catch up. Rested and relaxed, he was ready to face the world. And apparently any crazy, rage filled murders as well. He didn't, however, expected to get used to the smells and the textures of rotting flesh. That never really worked for him. He tended to eat light in the mornings.

During his time in Afghanistan, he had made his peace with Bones. The way they left, with so little words, mesmerized their closest friends. Yet there was so much they didn't know. So much that the two of them had promised to keep secret. She had showed up at his house the night before he left. They hadn't planned anything, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that she would come. Words had been hard for her to find, she struggled. She understood his reasons for wanting to go, but couldn't comprehend them. Sometimes, neither could he. He needed to get away for a while, to think. Parker's questioning encouraged him to be a role model for his son and motivated him to stay alive and safe. He needed to sort out where his life was going and what better way than to get away. After a few hours of reminiscing about old cases, she had too much to drink. That night, for the first time, he saw her looking more like an insecure teenager than the distinguished anthropologist that she was. She broke down, one of the only times he's ever seen her cry. Between the sobs and deep breaths, he heard her say that she was worried about him, that she didn't want him to get hurt, that if anything happened to him, she would be destroyed. His heart melted in her hands; he had felt a deep seated anger at her for never being willing to open herself to him. But now he understood why - she wasn't as strong as she wanted everyone to believe beyond her tough exterior. He wrapped his arms around her body, rubbing her back, soothing her. It felt so good to be her protector in such a different way. He patiently waited for her to stop crying, kissing her head delicately. She stopped, but what came next completely surprised him. She looked at him, body pressed against his, trying to rub the tears off of his shirt. She kissed him. She actually kissed him. And he couldn't tell if she was just propelled by liquid courage, but it didn't seem like a mistake. She caught him off guard. He kind of sat there like a lump on a log, unresponsive. She pulled away and looked at him as if she had done something terribly wrong. But before she had a second thought, he kissed her back. Wanting, demanding, feeling - all wrapped into one perfectly placed package. And there was no way to stop (the train wreck?). It didn't matter. He was putty in her hands and as long as she wanted it, he wasn't going to stop her. Or should he? He asked. She answered by dragging him straight towards the bedroom. The chaos that ensued was by far one of the best nights of his life. He felt alive. He felt connected. He was in love. He fell asleep with the love of his life in his arms, holding her tightly and vowing to never let her go. The following morning, however, he woke up to an empty bed and a super cold shower. She left him a note on the table: I don't want you to think last night was a mistake. It wasn't. I just need time to think things through. When you come back, I'll be ready. He held the note with him at all times. It was crinkled, torn, and about to fall into a million pieces. But it gave him hope. Daydreaming and reminiscing, he hadn't realized he walked into Bones' office. But it wasn't Bones' office. And the figure sitting at the desk next to Cam definitely wasn't Bones. Confusion wiped his face and Cam quickly sprung into action, dragging him into the hallway.

"Where's Bones?" he quickly blurted out. "Did she get a new office somewhere?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"She quit. She came back to the States, turned in her resignation, packed her things, and left. There was nothing anyone could do. No one had any idea why. Not even Angela."

A deep panic rushed over him and he couldn't help but trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Has anyone talked to her since? Where is she?"

"Seely, it's like she fell off the face of the earth. No one's heard from her. A book comes out every few months, but that's the extent of any word from her. She moved, she changed her phone number."

And with that Booth broke out into a run back toward headquarters. Regulations or not, he needed to find her.