A/N: A huge thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter. I was inspired to keep it going.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1


The images came to him, unbidden, as he lay dreaming that night. Chestnut hair splayed across his sheets, soft beams of moonlight on porcelain skin…and that feeling of utter contentment. He awoke abruptly, trying desperately to hold onto the feeling.

Booth often dreamt of his partner, but compounded with his recent frustration it was almost too much for him to think that he could find no solace even in slumber. It hadn't been an erotic dream – sensual, yes, but not sexually arousing. He had simply been holding her, reveling in the way her body fit against him. His fingertips still tingled from their imaginary caresses on her silky skin. No, this was worse than having a sex dream about his partner. Sexual fantasies were, as Bones would say, subconscious manifestations of a biological urge. This was much more difficult to rationalize. Shaking his head vigorously, as if to rid himself of the images, he glanced at his bedside clock: 5:15. Groaning, he flopped back onto his pillow, willing sleep to overtake him. Preferably a dreamless sleep.

No more dreams had plagued him, and he refused to allow himself the indulgence of reliving every detail of the dream as he nursed his second cup of coffee. Instinctively he knew that this dream came closest to the truth of his feelings for Brennan. Erotic fantasies were exciting, but what he felt went beyond sexual attraction, and this dream had captured it. The contentment he felt was the same emotion he had been experiencing during their growing closeness after Christmas. He knew he wanted more from his partnership with Bones, but now he was beginning to realize that he needed it. Needed to feel that closeness with her, to show her love in a way she had never experienced it – nor had he, for that matter. A part of him scoffed at the notion of making a life-altering decision based on nothing more than a dream, but it hadn't been just a dream, really. Oh, his subconscious had projected her into his arms, but the feeling – that feeling that he couldn't get out of his head – that was a memory of something real yet fleeting that had escaped him before he had even recognized it.

Had she felt it too? Did she spend nights dreaming under the spell of this elusive emotion? Booth had to admit that he had no idea; he and Bones didn't always experience emotion in the same way. She was a deeply complicated woman, an enigma wrapped within a conundrum. The thought that she might not share this need for him was a frightening prospect. She cared deeply for him, of that he was certain, loved him in her strange, flawed way. But did she yearn for him as he did her? Did she feel the same contentment during the height of their intimacy as partners and friends? If she had, why had she sought a relationship with Robert when they were becoming so close? Draining his cup, Booth decided to go for a run, hoping some intense physical exertion would subdue his questing mind.


He had stopped touching her. Other than the incidental physical contact of fieldwork, Booth had not touched her in weeks. Rationally, she knew, there was no reason that this should bother her. His constantly close proximity had made her intensely uncomfortable in the early days of their partnership, but she began to tolerate it, then to anticipate it, and now, if she were to be honest, she welcomed it. Like many foster children, Brennan wasn't as physically affectionate as most, and she counted it a great success that she had gradually learned not only to draw physical comfort from others but had progressed by leaps in her habits of reciprocation. And now he had stopped touching her. She had noticed almost immediately; compared with the closeness that they had begun to share since Christmas, it was a glaring contrast. The timing had not gone unnoticed either – his reticence had directly coincided with Robert's arrival on the scene.

Robert. She cringed as she recalled the previous evening's events. She had literally forgotten he existed until Booth's words had brought him back to the forefront of her mind. She had called him after Booth dropped her off, and he had tried to coax her into coming over, but she had begged off citing her exhaustion from the case. She had been tired – that was ostensibly true – but she had been so disturbed by her forgetfulness that she couldn't bring herself to see him knowing how easily he was eclipsed in her mind. He was a nice man, he was interesting, and she was attracted to him. So why didn't he cross her mind with any regularity?

Robert's touches were pleasant. She was aroused by them. Yet she hadn't even slept with him. Why hadn't she allowed herself to satisfy a biological urge with this attractive man? There had been ample opportunities, despite their busy schedules, but at every occasion she had made excuses and slept alone. It bothered her how uncharacteristic her recent behavior was becoming. Uncharacteristic, yes. She wasn't the only one behaving strangely these days. Her thoughts returned to Booth.

Perhaps he thought it was inappropriate for him to touch her while she was involved with someone. She dismissed this notion as ridiculous; after all, she'd had other boyfriends. Booth had maintained a normal level of physical contact when she had been dating Sully. She stopped herself. What was a normal level of physical contact between them? That word, normal, had been repeatedly redefined throughout their partnership. Certainly their mistletoe kiss hadn't quite fit even their most intimate definitions of normal. She smiled wistfully, remembering those few seconds with surprising clarity. There had been something so satisfying about being that close to him, to be touching him so intimately – like one of their "guy hugs" but infinitely better.

In the weeks that followed she and Booth had shared an easy closeness that was unprecedented. There weren't really specific moments that she could recall, only a general feeling of…happiness wasn't the right word. It was mildly bothersome that she hadn't been able to definitively quantify the emotion. Particularly since she hadn't felt it in some time. Not since he had stopped touching her.

Should she ask him about it? Clearly something had caused this change in behavior, and it was difficult to argue that it could be something not involving her in some way. Perhaps he was dating someone as well? But no, she felt certain he would have made some reference if that were the case. Weren't partners supposed to be open with one another, to discuss their problems and their fears? She felt a growing conviction that the burden to restore their previous camaraderie lay with her. After all, she didn't want their partnership to suffer. She resolved to call Booth and redeem his proffered raincheck for lunch at Wong Foo's.

A sudden thought made her pause as she began to dial his number. Was their partnership suffering? Their working rapport was effortless, as usual. They bickered, of course, but all in the interest of solving a case. She couldn't think of a single aspect of their working relationship that had been affected. Yet she still felt an irrational compulsion to discover the cause behind his physical distance. Dismissing her doubts, she placed the call and waited for his answer.


I'm entertaining several possibilites for the next chapter, so constructive feedback is appreciated!