A/N:
If you're after well written fic, you should so totally go and check out Expert Witnesses by Claira (her LJ is stars-like-dust) – it's awesome! As is her BSG fic, if you swing that way.
-- Komm mit mir
Probable one-shot, but with potential for extension.
Set in the latter half of Season Three.
Uncertain
She thought about him often these days. If his presence wasn't physically there, then it was almost certain that he would be there in her thoughts, keeping her company whenever she was alone. This was comforting, if a little stifling at times. Particularly if she was annoyed at him about something, but that was becoming less frequent. Her mind had a way of circling back to him, despite repeated deflections on behalf of her conscience self. It really was concerning, just how much time she spent thinking about her partner; after all, they were only friends and work colleagues. She doubted she had ever spent as much time thinking about Sully or David, or any of her other previous romantic trysts. She wondered if it was a sign of their deep emotional connection, which existed despite a definite lack of any sort of physical intercourse. But there were moments when she thought that there could be something between them; tender moments when she fell apart and he helped her put herself back together again; and semi-awkward moments when they both realised they'd gone a tad too far beyond some figurative professional line and entered into the We-Are-Both-Attractive-People-And- We-Should-Make-Out-Right-Now territory. She'd never had this kind of connection before; with previous boyfriends there had always been some kind of emotional bond, but mostly it was just about sex, and satisfying her biological urges. But with this man . . . she just wasn't sure, and Dr. Temperance Brennan rarely did anything without being certain of the outcome.