Alright guys, after getting some really sweet emails and reviews requesting a continuation of this story, I dedicate this to you!
For everyone that has been emailing me about The Couple from the Burbs, real life has gotten in the way of that story, but hopefully it will settle down a bit more and I'll be able to get the rest of the story up. I'm glad that you guys like it so much to continue to ask for it. It really makes a writer feel good to know her stories are being read and wanted. Feel free to continue emailing me and keeping me reminded!

Rating changed to T.

2 weeks later…

The water in the tub splashed lightly against his stomach as he sat forward, taking a sip from the straw hanging down from his hat.

Dammit, the beer had gone warm.

The hollow sound of the water circling down the drain permeated the room. There was no use trying to relax anymore. Not after Bones had barged in, ruining his moment, and his phone call with Cam. His bath was ruined. The world was conspiring against him. What happened to the days when a man could take a bath in his own home uninterrupted, huh?

Sighing, he raised himself out of the tepid water, running his hands down his abdomen, brushing the water off. He reached over and grabbed his towel and dried himself off. Slinging it around his neck, he pushed the door open and stepped into the living room. Looking up he jumped slightly.

"Jesus Bones," he cried. "I thought you left."

She didn't respond, just kept looking at her hands folded in her lap. She looked so small sitting on his sofa. So young. Feeling that perhaps this was a time for "puritan modesty" he shrugged the towel from around his neck and looped in around his waist, tucking the top edge in so it stayed put.

"Bones," his voice softened as he made his way over to her. Finally she looked up and he saw the unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.

"Hey," he whispered sitting down next to her. "What's wrong?"

She stared at him for a moment, then her eyes flickered over his shoulder and into his bedroom until they rested on his bed.


"I came here, you know," her voice was so soft, he barely made out what she'd said. He didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't say anything.

"The night they told me you died, I cam here." She looked back down at her hands. "I didn't know where else to go."

He stared at her for a moment, unsure at what to say. He looked over his shoulder at his unmade bed. Had she slept in it? Why?

"That's when I found the key," she continued, oblivious to his wondering thoughts. "I let myself in and I stayed the night. I slept in your bed."

She looked up at him again, a lone tear trying to break free from her lashes.

"I know it's completely irrational, but I needed to feel close to something of yours." The tear finally fell.

Instinctively, he reached up and caught it between his thumb and her cheek, feeling the slick moisture, a thin barrier between them.

Still, he wasn't sure of what to say, so he said the first thing that came to mind, "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, she moved away from his touch. "I thought you were dead, Booth." Her voice was firm now and he saw the spark of her anger reappear. She stood, pacing in front of him.

"I know and I know that couldn't have been easy," he stated. "Believe me, I wanted you to know I never wanted you to know. I never wanted you to think I'd left you."

Brennan stopped pacing then, standing directly in front of him. "I thought you had."

Booth stood now, his eyes heavy against hers. He reached up and lifted her chin slightly, forcing her to really look at him and she saw the remorse and sincerity swimming in them.

"If I ever leave you, it will not be of my own free will." He sighed. "I wanted to tell you Bones, but I wasn't able to. After I got shot the FBI figured that would be the best thing for us to get this guy. I needed to fake my death. This guy vowed that the only time we'd ever see him again would be at my funeral. I didn't get a chance to tell you personally, otherwise believe me, I would have. The best solution I saw was giving the FBI my list of contacts." He paused for a moment, their eyes locked. "You were number one, Bones. They were supposed to tell you. When I find out who dropped the ball, him and I are going to have a nice long chat."

She continued staring at him, her eyes glistening, tears falling freely. Silence stretched between them, only their mingled breathing.

Slowly, she stood on her toes and leaned in pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth on his. At the first feeling of the feather light pressure, he turned his head, his lips finding hers. She gasped against his mouth, startled for a moment before yielding to the unrelenting urge to kiss him back. She deepened 

the kiss, her tongue reaching out to trace his lower lip. He groaned against her, opening his mouth to let her tongue dance along his.

He shifted, running his hands lightly along her sides, up her ribcage, stopping when his hands lightly rested against the sides of her breasts.

She stepped into him then, wrapping her arms around his neck. She squirmed against him, signed as she felt his attraction pushing against her stomach, the towel bulging.

He broke away from the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. His mind was racing. How far was she wanting to take this? Feeling her hand brush against him through the towel, he realized he had his answer. Reaching down, his stopped her wandering hand. Raising it to his lips, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. She shuddered and her eyes fell closed. Still holding her hand, he turned and pulled her down the short hallway to his bedroom.

As the towel dropped to the floor with a soft thud, one thought danced between them. Tonight she wouldn't be sleeping in his bed alone.

The end…for real 

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