A/N: Thanks for the reviews and alerts! By the way, does anyone know what's going on with this site and section breaks? For some reason, when I uploaded this story, the ___ I use didn't show up. I hate to think I'm going to have to go back through my other stories and put them in, but the stories won't make sense to new readers without the appropriate breaks. Okay, enough of my own angst....

Chapter 1: On Knowing When to Run.

" You will be expected to exercise the utmost care in the retrieval of these remains, understood?"

Brennan managed to give the shiny new Supervisory Agent a look that conveyed both disgust and condescension before snapping on her gloves and turning to head toward the cordoned-off fall-out zone. The hand that reached out and grabbed her arm took her by surprise.

"Ma'am, this is serious. Do you have any idea who we're talking about here?"

Eyes flashing with indignation, she raised herself up to full height and replied, "I'm very aware of who we're talking about. The son of a Saudi diplomat who foolishly decided to assert his alpha-male status by taking his date for a ride in his single-engine Cessna during the worst the lightening storm in decades. What I fail to see, however, is why this should have any impact on how I do my job."

She practically snarled this last line, and Booth knew that if he didn't intervene now, Bones would soon be facing charges for assaulting a federal agent. He quickly stepped between the agent and the anthropologist, breaking the man's grip on his partner's arm before his partner got it into her head that she should be the one doing all the breaking. "Agent Roth, I'd like you to meet my par-," he stumbled over the words, realizing with a pang that it wasn't true anymore, not really, "I'd like you to meet Dr. Temperance Brennan. The world-renowned forensic anthropologist." He gave the agent a pointed look. "This isn't exactly her first rodeo."

Brennan looked at Booth in bewilderment. "That is inaccurate. Booth, I have never attended a rodeo."

Booth rolled his eyes and laughed sardonically. Will this be something I miss, or one of those things it will be a relief to get away from? He hoped it was the latter, but knew it was the former. He gave his part-...Bones, a wistful glance before returning his attention to Roth. "The point is, maybe you should just thank Dr. Brennan for agreeing to lend us her considerable expertise a mere six hours before she is scheduled to depart for Indonesia to participate in a very prestigious anthropological dig, and let her get on with her work?" The part about the dig was superfluous, but Booth couldn't help himself. He hated when someone tried to underestimate her.

For the briefest moment Agent Roth appeared duly chastised, but then he scoffed and walked away. Meanwhile, Bones gave Booth a look that let him know that she was perfectly capable of fighting her own battles, thank-you-very-much. Before he could think of a witty remark, she was dipping under the yellow crime scene tape, eyes pealed for bone fragments. And Booth? Well, he was standing alone. Of course.

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He had been relieved when he had gotten the call at 3:30 AM. They knew it was his last day before his leave of absence, but how would he feel about supervising the investigation into a plane crash that had killed a diplomat's son? It was an easy assignment, the FAA had all but determined that the weather had caused the explosion that sent pieces of the tiny plane raining down over the industrial neighborhood. He was happy to take it. He had been relieved, and he hated himself for it.

One last breakfast at the diner, one last trip to the airport- it had all sounded like a good idea the night before at The Founding Fathers. They were the only remaining guests at their own going-away party. There, still under the spell of alcohol and a night spent with friends that made up their makeshift family, they knew. They knew that if this was going to be their last night together, there would be no saying goodbye. Sure, there was the pretense of all of this being temporary, a year out of time. It's what they told everyone, that they would be back in a year, and everything would return to normal. They would be Booth and Bones, the perfect team. It's what they told themselves. It's what allowed them to make their plans, plans that didn't involve the other. But there, in their favorite booth, in their favorite bar, they knew it was a lie; there is no such thing as a year out of time. It was absolutely necessary, then, that they make plans to see each other the next day. Otherwise, how could they ever leave that bar? How could they ever leave them behind?

By the time he made it back to his apartment, the spell had worn off. Seeing her the next day, being the one to drive her to the airport, it no longer felt like the only right way to end this. It felt foolish, heartbreaking. They had managed to leave the bar, and wasn't it better to leave them that way? No final goodbye, no big production. No need to face what they were doing until it was done. They could go on pretending that things would someday return to their own special version of normal. Maybe catching up to their own reality could wait until they were somewhere in the middle of it, and maybe it wouldn't hurt so much in the middle. It's beginnings and endings that are painful, right? Middles are comfortable. Maybe. Hopefully.

So, he accepted this unexpected assignment with relief. It was out of his hands, duty called. When they asked him if he could bring her along, he reminded them that she was leaving. When they wanted him to check, just in case- they needed the best- he agreed. What was the harm? It wasn't as though she would say yes. Who agrees to spend their last few hours before moving off to the other side of the world searching for bone bits?

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Of course she said yes when he called. He had sounded surprised and had mumbled something about not wanting to impose and last minute packing. But really, how could he have been surprised? The explosion would have broken the remains into hundreds of pieces. It would take a highly skilled eye to locate them all. She knew the victims were Muslim and that Islam required that as much of the body as possible be buried together. She couldn't leave something so important to the FBI techs. Sure, they were competent, but she was the best. As for last minute packing, well, she wouldn't even dignify that with a response. Temperance Brennan left nothing to the last minute, nothing to chance.

Besides, if the crash site was where he was going to be, then it was where she was going to be. They hadn't said goodbye last night, not the kind of goodbye you said to the most important person in your life before you parted ways for a year. It hadn't been necessary, because they were going to have breakfast; he was going to take her to the airport. It was okay that she had skipped breakfast and that she was going to have to take a cab to the airport, as long as she still got to spend those last few hours with him. There was another thing Temperance Brennan didn't do, and that was leave without saying goodbye. She knew what it was like to abruptly find yourself at the end, when you had believed you were still in the middle. She knew what it was like to be left without a proper goodbye. She liked her endings unambiguous.

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"Hey Bones, how's it comin'?"

She started at the sound of his voice. She had been consumed by her search for remains, and she had missed his approach. "I've been successful in locating the limbs and both skulls. I've also found many of the smaller pieces, but there's probably more here than I will have time to locate before I have to leave for the airport. I've put in a call to Mr. Edison, and he should be able to continue the search in my absence. He's good. He'll return them to their families."

"I know, Bones," he answered.

Though deciphering tone of voice had never been a talent she possessed, she could hear the sadness in his innocuous words. She searched his face, wondering, not for the first time, if she was doing the right thing. Nothing had been right since that evening in Sweets' office. Brennan rarely indulged in magical thinking, but if she could have just one wish, it would be that she could have that day back. Screw professional courtesy. She would have patted Sweets on the head and let him publish his book, mistakes and all. She had done her best to ensure the center held, but she was no longer certain Booth wanted it to. He had told her they could work together, and he never broke a promise, but everything had changed. Everything was so sad. It wasn't working. He was trying to move on, and she was stopping him. She was hurting him, which was exactly what she had been trying to avoid when she told him no. She would do anything to help him, and leaving was all she could think to do.

It had been Heather Taffet's trial that made everything clear. It hadn't been easy, facing that woman in court. Brennan tried to find sanctuary in facts, in the truth, but she hadn't been able to keep her memories at bay. Testifying, watching Booth and Hodgins testify, it brought everything back. Her secret nightmares had returned, and every night she lost Booth- over, and over again. Upon waking, she was shaken to the core; not by her nightmares, but by the fact that the sense of loss they caused wasn't so different than that she had experienced every day since the night she said no. It was time to face the truth: he had gambled, and she had lost. The game was rigged, and she had never stood a chance at winning. It made it easier to say yes to Indonesia. In the midst of doing all the wrong things, it was nice to finally be able to do something right.

She was slowly becoming aware of the fact that she had been staring at him for entirely too long, when a movement in her peripheral vision caused her to turn away sharply.

His eyes instinctively followed hers. "What? Did you see something?"

She peered off in the direction of the movement, but there was nothing. "No. I thought I did, and earlier it felt like maybe someone was watching me, but...." She searched the perimeter of the scene. "I guess it was nothing."

"Maybe it was just a shadow," he shrugged.

"Yes. Maybe." She held his gaze, not ready to let him go. "Is Parker still upset that you'll be spending the year at Fort Benning?" She had been shocked when he had announced his own plans to take the year off. It hadn't surprised her that the Rangers had wanted him to serve as a training instructor, but she never would have believed that he would agree. Leave D.C., leave the FBI, leave Parker? Not Booth. Never. It was just one more example of how far off its axis her world had shifted.

"He's not thrilled. I mean, I'll still see him just as much, you know? I'll alternate between driving up to D.C. on the weekends and flying him down to Georgia. I think, once we're into it, he'll be okay." Booth was well aware of the fact that it sounded like he was desperately trying to convince himself it was true. He looked at the woman in front of him, the woman who had been his best friend for the past five years, and he offered her one last piece of himself, "I'm just...I guess...I guess I'm just afraid that no matter how things work out, the part he'll always remember is that I left. He wanted me to stay, and I left."

Brennan knew how hard this was for him. She may not understand them, but in order for Booth to even consider leaving, he must have some very good reasons. "You're a good father, Booth. Parker knows it. That's what he'll remember." She reached out and squeezed his hand, the most physical contact they'd had since he began the business of moving on. She smiled a smile that she she hope conveyed her absolute belief in him and his love for his son.

It was the smile that almost made him break. He hadn't seen it in longer than he cared to remember. Having her standing there in front of him, telling him that leaving didn't make him a bad father (even though, who knew better than him just how much being left had cost her?), smiling a smile that told him nothing could ever diminish him in her eyes, it was almost enough to make him want to take another gamble. It was almost enough to make him forget how much it hurt to lose. Almost.

Brennan knew it was time. She needed to go home and change, get ready to go, but once again, she found herself unwilling to walk away. She needed to think of something else to say, something to stop this conversation from reaching its natural conclusion, goodbye.... "What about Catherine?," she blurted.

Booth sighed and removed his hand from hers. "Oh, well, you know. I mean, she's not too pleased either, but it's not like we're in a relationship. We've been out a few times, but it's casual. We'll just see where it goes. Maybe the long-distance thing could work for us."

"That's highly unlikely, Booth. Statistically, long-distance relationships rarely survive, especially without an explicit commitment from both parties. Besides, I doubt that Catherine believes the two of you to be as casual as you claim. She gave you the tie, and as I told you before, a gift signifies a social contract-"

"Yes, professor, I remember. God, why does everything have to turn into a goddamned anthropology lecture with you? That is one thing I'm sure as hell not going to miss." He watched her eyes widen as though he had just punched her in the gut. She took a step back, and her eyes watered. Way to go, jackass. "Bones, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I haven't slept, and things have been so wonky...," he smiled. "Come on Bones, aren't you going to ask me what that means?"

In spite of herself, she responded to the familiar gentleness of his teasing. With a small smile of her own, she replied, "I don't have to ask. I ascertained your meaning through context."

He laughed, "Wow, Bones, you've really changed." Realizing immediately that this line of conversation could take them somewhere dangerous, he veered back into safer territory, "What about Hacker?"

She shrugged dismissively, "Andrew and I agreed that while we found each other's company pleasant, there was really nothing more than friendship between us. We had a goodbye coffee, and I doubt we'll see each other more than occasionally upon my retur-," She stopped abruptly. This time she was positive she had seen movement, a flash of dark skin, at the end of the drainage ditch. WIthout finishing her thought, she took off toward the source of the movement. Booth was confused, but behind her all the way.

TBC