A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. School. Don't worry- my goal is to get this story and all of it's 15+ chapters before the end of next week. Fortunately, I have some of them written in advance!

One Year Later…

Brennan moaned into her pillow as she felt the warm arm snake around her waist and pull her closer. Into her ear, the voice whispered, "Tempe- it's time to wake up." He patted her on the behind and rolled out of bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the tall, caramel-colored man slip on his robe and stretch in the dusty sunlight streaming out of the apartment window. The air still smelled old.

Taking a deep breath, she, too, willed herself out of bed, carelessly brushing the hair out of her eyes as she padded towards the bathroom. It had been two days and her circadian rhythm had not modulated itself from its South African schedule. In the shower, she nodded off intermittently against the cool tile, lulled by the warm, steamy air and the relaxing flow of water. She deliriously imagined herself getting out, getting dressed and meeting her co-workers back at the lab at least three times before a combination of cold water and a bribe of coffee from Terrence encouraged her out of the bathroom.

While pretending to read the newspaper on her laptop with a bagel, she investigated polyphasic sleep cycles, both as a way to adjust her malfunctioning rhythm and to accomplish the significant volume of work she had waiting for her at the Jeffersonian and left over from her dig. The inferior scanning technology available at the sister institute in South Africa was the reason she was back nearly two weeks early and the excuse for her company. Terrence Bastock would be assisting her with the final reports and speaking at the first conference about the find in D.C. in six short weeks. As for how long their relationship would persist afternoons, Brennan was reluctant to speculate.

Terrence was well above average. He had strong, symmetrical features, intriguing eyes, an astounding intellect, and the kind of sense of humor Brennan could appreciate without explanation. It didn't hurt that they shared similar interests and had the kind of complementary immunoprofiles that that spark a near-instant attraction. Although she was hesitant to sleep with him because of the close working relationship they needed to maintain throughout the trip, it was apparent early on that Terrence was not so different as herself and they could pursue a relationship that was free of irrational attachments that could cloud judgment.

Of course, Terrence didn't understand that Brennan was not as blank of a slate as she appeared to be. She could not pretend she was not rattled by her final interactions with Booth, nor the fact that she could not bring herself to contact him on the previous year, nor the fact that he had no taken any steps to contact her. What brief intelligence she could acquire about his wellbeing was delivered by Dr. Sweets on one of his half dozen visits to Ms. Wicks. He repeatedly informed her that Booth was getting along just fine, based on his own brief conversations with Booth and the second-hand knowledge he was passed from Cam. She let Sweets know she was just fine as well, although he appeared skeptical at her proclamations for reasons she was not interested in evaluating.

And now she was in the parking lot of the Jeffersonian, trying to convince Terrence that he didn't need to carry the bag of items she borrowed from her office. They were nearly bickering.

"Look, Terrence, aside from the fact that I do not require your assistance to carry that bag, I have some very precious items in there and I would like to personally secure their safety."

"What's the matter, Tempe? Don't you trust me?" He teased with the seductive lilt of his South African accident, punctuated with a gentle elbow at her rib. She frowned at him.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I simply…" As the elevator doors opened, she caught Angela on her way out, walking out of the elevator without even looking up from her phone. "Angela," she stated warmly and found herself quickly enveloped into a somewhat uncomfortable but brief hug.

"Brennan! You didn't tell me you were getting back early. I would have picked you up at the airport, although it's clear I didn't need to." She leaned forward, half-whispering, "Who's the stud?"

"Angela, this is Dr. Bastock. He was the field manager on the Australopithecus dig. We are also in a sexual relationship." She figured it was better to state it up front to avoid Angela's occasionally endearing, but nearly always irritating questioning.

Terrence chuckled, and took shook Angela's hand with both of his. "It is nice to meet you Ms. Montenegro. Brennan has informed me of your great talents."

Angela looks at Terrence, but speaks to Brennan, "My, he is charming. He just might be a keeper, Bren."

Brennan felt an immediate and inexplicable revulsion at the sentiment, and stepped into the elevator. "I am sure we will have an opportunity to catch up, later. I would like to introduce Dr. Bastock to the rest of the lab and then begin scanning the bone fragments that we have. If I could bother you to help me with a facial reconstruction later, I would be interested in several estimations I have about it's tissue densities."

Angela laughed briefly, waving at them as the elevator door closed, "Whatever you need sweetie."

She introduced Dr. Bastock without incidence or reference to their relationship, and they quickly fell back into their routine in the bone room. High-powered X-rays, mass spectrometers, carbon-dating , preparing preliminary papers and talks for the conference: over the next six weeks, Brennan and Bastock ticked items off of a checklist as soon as they wrote them down. It was apparent to nearly everyone that they were an effective synchronous pair, albeit a similar one rather than the well-oiled duo of opposites she had abandoned nearly a year before.

As each day drew to a close, Brennan felt a growing anxiety in her belly. Would Booth return to the FBI to work with them? Did she want them too? She felt a longing for him. Admittedly, she missed him. She was unsure about their ability to work together as harmoniously as she found herself working with Terrence. She was uncomfortable with Angela's suggestion that hers and Terrence's sexual relationship was what made than an inseparable, hyperefficient team, well-attuned to the other's needs. More frustratingly, she was uncomfortable with the idea that Booth would be able to intuit her relationship with this man, or the gnawing sensation that he, too, may have succeeded in moving on when she had only pretended to.

Three days before the scheduled conference, and the night before Booth's impending arrival, Terrence again snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close against his chest. She laced her fingers through his in an unconscious gesture of affection and considered informing him of the situation at hand. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was still dusty.