AN: This chapter clocked in at nearly 8,000 words! Wow. Even I wasn't expecting it to be that long. It's the all-important conversation this time, and I hope that everyone enjoys. It's actually not my favorite chapter-I struggled with it being not emotional enough and too emotional at the same time. One thing that I struggled with was the use of the big L-word. I know most people think that Brennan in particular would be reluctant to say it all the time, and I agree to a certain extent. But I also think that once she commits to something, she really gives it her all, and she is dauntless. Please keep that in mind as you read.

So settle in for something of a marathon.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters-it does mean a lot to me.

One last thing: I don't really do song-fics, or anything like that. But while I was proofing this, my pandora station played a beautiful song that I felt sort of went with this chapter. If you are so inclined, it's called Christofori's Dream and it's by the brilliant pianist David Lanz. It's on youtube.


"Guess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing."
-A Home,
Dixie Chicks


The next night, Brennan finished her work even earlier than she had anticipated. At five forty-seven, she finished typing the file she was working on, saved the document and sent it on to the appropriate people. She packed up her things, and by five fifty, she was leaving the Jeffersonian.

Driving home, it dawned on Brennan that she had been thinking about Booth all day, and their upcoming conversation. It had not been conscious, but there had been a thought in the back of her mind all day—almost a worry about the evening.

She arrived at home and poured herself a glass of wine, hoping to calm her nerves before Booth arrived. She thought back over the past few months without him—really, the past eighteen months. It had been that long since Brennan had really had Booth around. Since that one unfortunate night, she had not had his presence the way that she was used to, and she wasn't sure that was going to change any time soon.

Despite their explosive conversation before Booth's departure, and the things that they both said, Brennan was completely convinced that Booth was still determined to move on from her. The thought came to her that she may have to do something even more drastic than limit their relationship to the professional. The idea of leaving the home she'd built in Washington D.C. brought a strong pang of sadness, but she decided that, depending on how their conversation went that night, if Booth expressed more unhappiness with their relationship or her behavior, she would quietly begin looking into a move. She received job offers from other institutions almost weekly, so that would not be the hard part.

Brennan shook off these thoughts. It may be a possibility, but Brennan knew that leaving would be her very last resort—she really did want to fix and maintain her friendship with Booth. She wanted him in her life, and because of her own mistakes, she could only ever have him as a friend, so she had to fix it. Her thoughts wandered back to a conversation that she'd had with Cam just week or so after Booth had left.

A soft knock on her door brought Brennan's attention from her computer screen.

"Dr. Brennan? Can I come in?" Cam had been hesitant and unsure, and Brennan wrinkled her brow in confusion.

"Of course, Cam. Is there anything that you needed?" There was a beat of silence where Cam seemed to look even more uncomfortable before she spoke.

"Well, sort of. Look, I know we don't really have this kind of relationship, but I also know that you are reluctant to bring Angela into the issue. So, if you ever want to talk about Booth—or rather, what happened right before he left—I just wanted to tell you that I'm willing to listen." Brennan stared at her, unprepared for a conversation like this and Com began to squirm. "That's really all. I guess you don't or…whatever. I'll go now."

"Cam, wait." Cam stopped halfway through the door, and turned back towards Brennan with a look that was somewhere between expectant and wary. "I believe that I would benefit from discussing this conversation with you, as you are less inclined to bouts of whimsy and fantasy than Angela. I have very few close friends, and I would like to air my concerns about Booth. If you really are willing, that is."

"Certainly, Dr. Brennan. That's why I offered." Brennan breathed a sigh of relief, and gestured Cam all the way into the room.

"Can you shut the door behind you?" Brennan gave a wry smile. "I would like to keep this private, and there are those in the lab that have exceptionally good hearing." Cam closed the door firmly behind her, and took a seat in the chair across from Brennan's. She leaned forward, waiting for Brennan to start talking. She was not disappointed.

"I find myself conflicted, Cam. I know how I feel, and I am very nearly certain about how Booth feels. But in light of our little confrontation, I am not sure what the plausibility of repairing our friendship is." Cam smiled internally—even when freaking out, Brennan was still classically Brennan.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not sure exactly how much of that conversation you heard, but it seems that Booth blames me to a certain extent for his unhappiness. I suppose that is fair—I made decisions for both of us that I believed to be right—and he does not deal well with either being out of control or with change. And I believe that if it were just that issue, we would easily be able to correct the problem. However, I think that I gave up more of my own feelings on the matter of he and I than I had intended to, and Booth sometimes has a hard time compartmentalizing his emotions. I worry that he will struggle with the things that I told him." Cam let out a small laugh, and instantly looked contrite. Brennan gave her a sharp, inquiring look.

"I'm sorry, Brennan. I don't mean to insult you. It's just—I think you are one of maybe three things that Booth does have trouble compartmentalizing. All the time. That calmness that you take for compartmentalization, that's really him acting. He pretends everything is okay when he can't figure things out, but that doesn't mean he's not constantly worrying and thinking about it. That's all."

"Oh." The look on Brennan's face almost made her want to laugh again, until it cleared and sadness replaced it. "I think you are mistaken, Cam. It may have been like that in the past, but he has very little trouble not thinking about me recently. His former regard for my feelings is significantly decreased since we both left." There was a long pause where both women considered that idea, before Cam shook her head vigorously.

"No, Brennan, I really don't think that's true. I honestly think he still cares about you as much as he did before."

"No he doesn't, Cam. He used to love me." Brennan looked up at Cam, and the two women shared a look—filled with despair on Brennan's end, and with helplessness on Cam's. "He doesn't anymore. He still cares for me as his partner, I think, but the way he used to love me—that's gone. He told me he had to move on, and he is. And I cannot ruin that for him. I can't get in the way, regardless of my own feelings."

Cam took a deep breath at Brennan's words. She never realized that Brennan knew about Booth's feelings, and the stark sadness that laced Brennan's words made her want to cry. Her inner romantic was rebelling at the thought of these two missing each other.

"I have two questions, Brennan. What is all of this about him moving on? And what exactly are your feelings?" Brennan gave her a strange look, measuring almost, before answering.

"Roughly six weeks before our last case and respective departures, Booth and I met with Sweets to discuss his book. That night, after we left Sweets' office, Booth stopped me. Because of the memories of our first case together, and Sweets' urging, he decided that right then would be the optimal time to inform me of his desire to attempt a romantic relationship with me. I was scared—terrified, really—at the thought of losing or hurting him. I told him that I didn't have the sort of heart that could love like him, and that I couldn't change. After I pushed him away, argued with him, he agreed with me, and then told me that he had to move on and find someone who could." She paused, letting Cam take in all the information.

"Well, you both kind of screwed up there, didn't you?" Brennan smiled at her, a sad smile, but one that acknowledged the truth.

"Yes, we did. I, as Angela would say, freaked out, and he didn't give me time to adjust."

"What about my other question, Brennan?"

"My feelings for Booth have not been a question for me for a very long time. I love him. I loved him that night, and I loved him the whole time I was in Maluku, and I even loved him while I watched him love someone else. I still do love him. I'm beginning to believe that I always will, and I've mostly made my peace with that fact—and with the fact that I will likely never have more than our partnership. I can live with that and be content."

Cam's heart was breaking for the calm, controlled woman sitting in front of her. Here was a woman that professed not to believe in love at every turn, but willingly admitted her own love for a man that she was convinced she would never have.

"You're wrong Brennan. I don't care what he said to you that night, or that he brought back some tart from Afghanistan, or that he's been chasing everything with a skirt since they broke up. I heard the way he was yelling at you before he left. It's counterintuitive, but a man only gets that angry at a woman that he really loves. Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but I think it's the truth. When he gets back, I'd be willing to bet that he wants to fix things, get them right again." Brennan shook her head vigorously.

"No, Cam. He doesn't feel that way about me anymore. And even if he thinks he does, I can't let him regress. He was making progress. I will only hurt him. The things that he said when we argued solidified that for me. I may have considered trying a relationship with him while I was in Maluku, but the amount that I was able to hurt him even when he was happily involved in a relationship makes that impossible now. It can't happen. I won't let him fall back in love with me just to break him later. I won't do it." Cam shook her head at the other woman's stubbornness.

"Dr. Brennan, I know how stubborn you are. But I want to say one more thing before I go. Both of you hurt each other—a lot. You probably broke his heart, and then he did the same thing to you. And some of those things that he said the last time he was here were pretty bad. But don't make decisions for the both of you again. Let him into your thought processes, your feelings. He's not been the same for awhile, and I really hope that when he gets back, you two will manage to fix this mess. But you have to do it together, listen to each other, and make your decisions together. He still loves you as much as you love him. Give it a chance, Brennan." With that, Cam got up and started for the door, not looking back because she'd seen the sheen of tears in Brennan's eyes, and had no desire to watch them fall if they were going to.

Brennan shook herself out of the memory. She still didn't believe that Booth loved her anymore, but she acknowledged that half of this mess was because somewhere along the way, the two of them stopped communicating. So, tonight, she hoped to rectify that. She had trouble tamping down the spark of hope that Cam had been right, but refused to let it flare.

The past months had been hard. She thought that her separation from Booth during the dig was painful, but it was exponentially more painful to not have him around in the places that she was accustomed to seeing him. The pain only strengthened her resolve to salvage something of their friendship.

A knock on her front door startled her from her musings, and she slowly headed toward the door, taking a deep breath before opening it to Booth's tentative smile.


"Hey, Bones. How're you doing?" Booth's smile was tentative, but easy at the same time, and the familiarity of the whole situation quieted much of the uneasiness in her stomach.

"Booth, come on in." She opened the door wider and took a step back, making room for Booth to enter the apartment. As she followed him back into her living room, she caught the deep breath that made Booth's shoulders rise. The thought that he might be as nervous as she was provided her with even more comfort in the face of her uncertainty and unease. He immediately turned towards her kitchen to put down the take-out he'd brought. And when he turned around, he was surprised to see her staring at him with an unreadable look on her face from the middle of the living room.

"Hey, Bones, what's up? You okay?" She shook her head, seeming to clear her head, and then shot him a baleful look.

"Actually, Booth, I find myself unaccountably apprehensive about the conversation that we are soon going to engage in. I realize that it is illogical, in that we speak frequently, but I can't seem to repress my emotions." Booth chuffed out a short laugh, shocked at her forthrightness, and then another when he realized that he should not be shocked with her bluntness. A pang of sadness swept through him when he realized that the single statement from Brennan was more emotional insight into her than he'd had for more than a year. The thought made him even more anxious to get started on his apologies. His smile slid off his face rapidly, and he began to speak.

"Oh, Bones. I understand. I really do. And you have every reason to be concerned." He broke off, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "After the way I treated you before, I'm surprised you even agreed to speak to me." He paused again. "Look, there's no excuse for the things I said. I never really gave you a chance to defend yourself, or explain. I just let you do what you wanted, and never actually approached you to see why you acted that way, and didn't talk about the fact that it hurt. I'm just, I'm so sorry that I hurt you like that. I can't apologize enough for the things I said. I hope you'll forgive me for treating you like that. And I am so sorry for accusing you of not caring about our friendship—I know that's not even close to true, and I regret ever saying such a thing. All of those terrible things I said about you—about your feelings, about your past—they are unforgivable."

His shoulders kept drooping as he talked, and the despair in his voice as he finished made Brennan instantly forgive him. She could sense his guilt and regret, and she felt relief at knowing that the possibility of the end of their friendship was equally upsetting to him. She knew that the dire measures she had briefly considered would be unnecessary. They would get their partnership back on track. She moved to sit next him where he had sunk down on her couch and laid her hand on his arm, much like Angela had done the day before.

"Booth, please, look at me." He shook his head and she pressed on his arm, tugging a little. "I know you're not going to believe me, but I forgive you." He just stared at her in response. "Seriously, Booth. I understand your emotions to a certain extent, and I understand that I provoked you and made you angry. It doesn't excuse the things you said, but I am still willing and able to forgive you." He continued to look at her, studying her for any hint of lie in her eyes, before he drew her to him a hard hug.

"God, Bones. What did I ever do to deserve you as a partner?" His words stung Brennan a little bit, seeming to confirm her belief that he was no longer interested in her romantically, but she returned the brief hug before pulling away.

"You are not as unworthy as you always tend to think, Booth. However, before we proceed from here, I would like to make something very clear to you." She fixed him with a stern look. "I have forgiven you for our argument, and I hope that you have begun to forgive me as well for the hurtful things I said and did. However, I will not tolerate similar behavior in the future, and I expect you to feel the same towards me." The look of confusion on his face spurred her to continue. "What I mean is that I will refrain from making partnership-altering decisions without seeking you input, and you will begin to come to me with your concerns regarding our partnership again. I don't want a lack of communication to be the cause of our problems." With a look, Brennan knew that Booth was having a similar thought to hers—namely, that communication was not the root of their problems. However, she brushed that idea off, determined that with apologies and understanding in the open, they could now continue their partnership more easily.

"Bones, thank you. I appreciate your forgiveness, and I'm shocked that you think you need to be forgiven. You did nothing, and I just went off on you." Her eyebrows knitted together in consternation.

"That is not accurate, Booth. Clearly, I did something to upset you, and your temper was a kind of retaliation for your emotional injury. I understand. I simply want us to be able to move past it." Booth sighed, admitting to himself that coercing her into admitting that she didn't need to be forgiven was just as hard as convincing himself of the same.

"Okay, Bones. You forgive me, I definitely forgive you. I swear before God that I will do my very best to never treat you that way again. Can we go on now?" She nodded easily.

"Yes. Let's have dinner, Booth. The food is getting cold." She got up and walked toward her kitchen, and Booth followed her, not expecting the abrupt change of subject. He had expected that they would talk about the other things that their conversation had dug up, but it seemed like she didn't want to. He resolved to get the whole thing well, resolved before the end of the night.


Dinner was largely silent, though very comfortable, and as they cleared away the trash from the table, Brennan paused and looked up at Booth.

"Booth? Can we go for a walk?" He looked at her, surprise etched on his face, and blinked.

"Um, sure. Is there anywhere in particular that you wanted to walk to?"

"Let's just walk around the neighborhood. Just for a little while, okay?" He nodded, and as soon as they finished the clean-up, they both put on their shoes and jackets against the fall chill and by tacit agreement, headed down Brennan's stairs.

They meandered around her neighborhood for close to an hour, each pointing out amusing or interesting sights. They talked and laughed just like they been accustomed to, and about forty-five minutes into the walk, Brennan realized with a sinking feeling that were she accompanied by any other man, she would consider this outing a date. The thought nearly made her panic, upset by the thought that she was once again, preventing Booth from moving on. There was no way he could forge a successful relationship with someone else when their time together could be viewed as dates. Booth noticed her sudden quiet, and he waited until they were back at Brennan's apartment, settling in with a beer each before saying anything.

"Bones? I'm not really sure what's going on inside that genius head of yours, but we still need to talk." She slowly turned her gaze to meet his, and the steadiness she saw there made her feel slightly more comfortable. This was her Booth, steady, and reassuring.

"I know, Booth. I am simply trying to reconcile our activities tonight with some preconceived notions that I held." Booth simply stared her, not really understanding, but knowing that she only meant she was trying to figure something out.

"Okay, well, while you do that, do you mind if I talk?"

"Of course, not Booth. I am extremely adept at focusing on multiple subjects. However, if you'd like me to pay strict attention to you, I can also do that." Booth chuckled at the sheer Brennan-ness of the answer and nodded his head.

"I would actually like you to pay attention to me. I don't want this to get screwed up again, especially by something as simple as one of us not really hearing the other." Brennan gave him an uncertain look, not sure whether she liked the direction the conversation seemed to be taking. She had believed that he wanted to discuss her decisions to decrease their friendship and time together, but his tone suggested something even more…serious and dangerous, almost. Booth took a deep breath, and began talking.

"Here's the thing, Bones. I'm not really sure how to start this, so I'm just going to open with what I should have opened with before, all those months ago." A pause, and then Brennan's breath rushed out of her with a whoosh.

"I love you, Bones. I don't want you to change, and I never did. I think that you are completely capable of loving people with all your heart." He paused, gauging Brennan's response, and when she simply stared at him, flabbergasted, reached a hand out, not quite touching her. "Um, are you… well, okay, Bones? You still with me?" She gave a short nod, unable to say anything, and Booth decided to continue to try and finish before her protestations started.

"Look. I know that everything got royally screwed up last year—and it was mostly my fault." Her mouth opened, and he stopped her before she could interrupt. "I know, we both made mistakes, and I'll let you take your share of the blame, but I was the one that really screwed up. So let me explain." Brennan shut her mouth, and nodded in acquiescence. "I need to apologize for giving up so quickly that night on the steps, Bones. My not fighting for you, that must have been terrible for you to go through, and I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for putting you through that." He looked over at her again, his eyes now carrying a guilt that was unrelated to any other, and she reached for his face, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"I don't want to make you feel bad or anything, Bones, but I was hurting too. In that moment, I would have agreed with anything you said to make you stop talking. Every word was awful—it hurt in a way that I've never been hurt before, and I hope that I never will again. All I was hearing was that you didn't want me—every sentence said the same thing, and I needed it to stop. I never meant to hurt you, and I barely knew what I was saying, much less agreed with it. God, Bones, please believe that if nothing else." Her hand slid down to his neck as she understood the subtext of his words—I wasn't good enough for you—and he dropped his head in his hands.

"Booth." Her voice was whisper-soft, like the touch of her hand on the nape of his neck, and he glanced up. The naked sadness in his eyes made Brennan's heart clench in a completely impossible way, and she opened her mouth to reassure him. "Booth, it's okay, really. I do understand." He looked up at her, and the hope in his eyes released the vice on her heart. "Are you finished?" He shook his head, and continued, calmer now.

"Everything that came after that was a reaction to the things we said, Bones. Catherine and then Afghanistan and Hannah—all of it. I agreed to date Catherine, not because I thought I could get past you, but because I needed to try—for both our sakes. If I didn't date anyone, because I was in love with you, but knew that you wouldn't return my feelings, I would have started to resent you. You would have felt like you were keeping me from being happy, and then you would have felt bad. I couldn't have that, so I decided that casual dating could work. Then there was the Gravedigger, and then you wanted to leave. I could put up a good front, pretend that everything was okay when you were around, but being here without you would have broken me. When you decided to go to Maluku, I decided that I might as well try and get some space from the situation. So I decided to go to Afghanistan." He paused, seeming to gather his courage from somewhere—a voice in his head softly suggested that it might be her hand resting gently on the back of his neck, offering comfort and reassurance.

"Then, after I got there, I met Hannah." He felt her tense, and hastened to continue the story. "We didn't immediately fall into bed. In fact, I had a hard time even considering actually having sex with anyone. But she and I became friends. She saw that I was broken down about something, and after a few weeks, I just told her the whole sad story. She knew about you long before anything romantic happened. She was just a bright spot in a very bleak place. Everyone else over there was just as broken as I was, except for her. She helped me, Bones, everyday." He looked up and met her eyes, surprised to see the tiniest of smile gracing her lips, juxtaposed with the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"We'll get to me later, Booth. I'm just glad you found some measure of happiness over there. I will never begrudge you the happiness that Hannah brought you, ever." The vehemence in Brennan's voice caught Booth off guard, and he had to shake his head to continue the story.

"Then one day, I got word that one of the kids I'd trained had been killed on a mission. He'd gotten too close to a roadside bomb. It almost broke me. Corporal Johnson was barely twenty-two years old, he had a beautiful, equally young wife at home, and she was due with their first child any day. He was happy, bright, and always made me smile. The idea that something else—someone else—so beautiful had gone out of the world in the haze of an explosion almost brought me to my knees, and Hannah was there when I got the news. She was comforting me, and then her hugs turned into something more. Before I knew what had happened, we were together, and it was some kind of relationship."

"I wasn't sure about it, but I realized that she could make me smile, and laugh, and she was attractive. We could have built something amazing on that, and we tried. But even though I never really figured out why it wasn't working, we both realized that it wasn't and we called everything off." Booth cocked his head, and Brennan shoved the pain at hearing about another woman brutally back, knowing that she had to understand. "I wonder if it's because she always knew about you. Maybe she thought she could try to…I don't know, win my heart back, and help me be happy again. But I guess she realized it was a losing battle. I don't know." His shoulders dropped, defeat plain in them once again. "All the other women, Bones? They were just me trying to convince everyone that I wasn't pining." He took a deep breath, and looked up at her again. She was gazing steadily back at him, and he relished the fact that even now, in the face of an extremely emotional night, she was as unwavering as ever. That slight smile still touched her lips, and he found himself wanting to trace it with his fingers.

Brennan was conflicted. Half of her was terrified of the direction that Booth had forced this conversation, and the other half was absolutely elated with the direction that it had taken. In her most fantastical dreams, she had only imagined him wanting to continue their friendship. She never expected that he still loved her back, and she was eagerly anticipating informing him that his feelings were returned, once and for all. It was a chance that she never expected to get again.

"Booth, listen to me. I meant it when I said that do not and will not begrudge you the fact that you were happy with Hannah, or if you had been happy with any other woman. I want your happiness, Booth. You have to know, that's the thing that's been most important to me for years, and even more this past year and a half. If you're done, I want to apologize for my part, and explain myself."

"There is one more thing, but I… I'm not sure whether it's really that important right now." Brennan moved her hand from the join of his shoulder and neck, where it had been resting, to his forearm.

"Booth, if you are worried about it, it's probably important enough." The sincerity in her gaze reassured him that she would understand, and that she was willing to talk about all of it. That included Jackie.

"It's about while I was away. You know I was undercover, right? Well, I was assigned to get close to a mafia leader down in New Orleans, and to gather evidence linking him to a drug smuggling ring that murdered their mules. Anyway, the first month I was there, the boss kept me on a really short leash. Then one night, he told me that I needed to relax, so he sent me out to "have some fun." I went and saw my handler, and we figured that a woman would give me an excuse to get away occasionally and report. But the guys we were investigating were pretty smart, and I didn't want to take any chances with my cover, so I actually had to go and find a woman to date while I was there." He looked up at Brennan to find a slightly shocked face gazing back at him.

"Her name was Jackie, and she was a very nice woman, but I never felt anything other than affection for her." There was guilt in his voice for that, along with everything else, and Brennan sighed internally. The man took the world on his shoulders, even when he barely had a choice.

"Booth, stop it. I know you feel guilty for what you see as using her, but you made no promises to anyone, and it really isn't much different from casually dating someone at home. It wasn't like she was a woman you would never have considered had your situation been different."

"I know. I just feel bad. I wanted you to know about her too, before we went any farther."

"And now, I do." She paused, and the two of them simply watched each other for a moment, still not believing that they were sitting there, having that conversation. Brennan took a deep breath, steeling herself to begin her part of the story.

"I guess it's my turn now." Booth nodded, and Brennan could see the wariness in his eyes, but forged onward, regardless. "I love you too, Booth, and as much as you seem to regret some of you actions, I feel regret for mine that night outside the Hoover. The injury that I caused to you was…" She trailed off, closing her eyes and seeing the pain that lived in his eyes that night and every day after behind her closed lids. The image brought a fresh wave of remorse and guilt, and she forced herself to continue. "It was unforgivable and unbearable for both of us. Just know, Booth, that my refusal had everything to do with me being afraid. That you believed my rejection was because you weren't good enough is heart-crushing to me, and I will regret that forever." She paused, gathering more strength, hoping that she would be able to make her way through her explanation without losing complete control.

"Booth, I was—and still am, to a certain extent—terrified that if we give this relationship a chance, eventually we will break up, and I will lose you too. The thought of not having you in my life permanently feels like someone placed a cement block on my chest—it always has. I will admit, a big part of my fear is that you will eventually realize that I am not the sort of woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but more than that, I live in fear of the idea that I will drive you away. That's why I said those things that night. Because I was afraid—not because I didn't love you. I have loved you for years." Brennan met his eyes, not surprised, but still taken aback by the naked emotion in them. She continued.

"I left the Jeffersonian because I needed to figure myself out. I won't say that I needed to find myself, but I was so afraid of losing you, both by my own hand and at the hand of some psychopath. I felt like I needed to prove that I could live without you." She paused again, and gave him a wry smile. "I can live without you, Booth, but Maluku taught me that I never want to again." Booth reached for the hand that still rested on his forearm and covered it with his own. He squeezed her hand, the slight pressure a reassurance that he could not yet give verbally—I'm here, you won't lose me if you don't want to. Please help me fix us. Brennan gave him a watery smile, the tears that lived just behind her eyes coming out in force.

"Then, you came home and told me all about the wonderful woman you'd met, and how happy you were. I remember that first time I met her, I knew that I had to let you go, once and for all. I went home that night, and I realized that loving you meant letting you be happy with someone else. So I did. I knew that trying to keep our relationship the same would hurt her, and by extension, you and I couldn't do that. I made it so that we were the professional colleagues that we always purported to be, and you seemed willing to go along with it, which only confirmed the clear indicators that you had moved on, once and for all." Brennan stared at their joined hands for a moment, and Booth was shocked when he felt moisture fall on the back of his hand.

"It seems that I only hurt you more by doing that, which I regret even more. I apologize for that, as well, Booth, and I hope that you can forgive me." The pain and remorse that laced her voice sent Booth scooting towards her, ready to envelope her in his arms, but Brennan pulled away and stood.

"No. This is why I am so afraid of a relationship between us, Booth! Every time something important happens, I screw it up. You say you want to give us a shot—I break your heart and turn you down. You do your very best to make me comfortable—I run away and leave you bereft. You come back with a woman that you care about significantly—I try to make you life easier, and still hurt you! I cannot seem to do anything right, and I am terrified that someday, you'll get sick of me hurting you time and time again, and leave. I want you in my life, Booth—so badly that I can't breathe sometimes, but I won't risk our friendship on something so foolhardy. I can't." Her voice broke on the last word, and Booth rose quickly to his feet, snagging her by the elbow as she turned away and pulling her into a crushing embrace. Brennan's hands splayed across his chest, and the shaking sobs that wracked her body made him pull her ever closer. One hand rested gently on the back of her neck, and the other settled naturally in the small of her back. He soothed her with words and a soft voice, the tone of his voice more important than the words.

"Oh Bones, stop doubting yourself. It's okay, really. Shh, we'll figure this out, alright?" With a sniffle and a nod of her head, Brennan pulled back infinitesimally. She looked up at him, and the red rims of her eyes made the clear blue stand out even more than normal. She gave him a weak smile.

"See, even now, you're comforting me Booth. I don't know if I can do the same for you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Booth sighed.

"Bones, I'm going to say something here, and it might scare you but it's the absolute truth, okay?" She nodded again. "You know how you always call me the alpha male, kind of make fun of me for it?" Her smile was genuine, and lit up her whole face.

"Yes of course. Your need to be the dominant—" Booth cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"Comforting you is just another one of those ways that I am asserting my position in your life. It's part of my nature to make you feel better, because that is what I always want to do for the people I love." He took a breath. "I don't really need you to do anything to comfort me. Just seeing you, and feeling your hand, or talking to you on the phone—that soothes all my hurts most of the time. When it's you that hurts me, your apologies make me forgive anything that you might have done. The look in your eyes—sincerity, guilt, hope—it always tells me that you mean it, that you regret hurting me from the bottom of your heart. That means more to me than any verbal or physical reassurance, and it will always be enough for me. You keep letting me hug you, and doing what you already do, and we can make this work."

"Really?" The disbelief in her voice made Booth pull her tight against him again.

"Yeah, Bones, really. You are always more than enough for me. You don't need to be scared of it. We're good at everything we do, you know?" She chuckled into his shoulder, and grasped him tighter.


It seemed like they had been holding each other for both an instant and forever. At some point, they sank back onto the couch, neither relinquishing their hold on the other. Finally, Booth pulled back.

"I guess this means we've gotta figure this whole mess out the rest of the way, huh?" Brennan's eyes went a few shades darker with worry, and she bit her lip and looked down at their intertwined hands again.

"Booth, I do love you. I want to have a serious, monogamous relationship with you, but I understand if you are unable or unwilling to give me that." She did not look up at him until she felt his hands on her cheeks, pulling her face to look at his.

"Bones, how can you even think that? Of course I want this. I love you too, and all I have wanted for the past seven years is to be with you." He fixed her with a determined gaze. "To be able to do this." He pulled her face towards his, and then they were kissing. His lips were chapped but soft, pressing against hers in the most tender kiss she had ever received, and she responded in kind, eagerly accepting him. The kiss said all the things that they already had said—the "I'm sorry's" and the "I love you's" and the "Give us a chance's," and held all their promises for the future. When it ended, both of them pulled back, and Brennan heart clenched at the look of pure happiness on Booth's face, wondering at the fact that she had put that look there. She decided in that moment that whatever it took, she would make sure that the fledgling romantic relationship between the two of them survived. Booth opened his eyes and looked steadily back at her—the love that he had once tried to mask now clear in his expression.

"Okay, Booth." He gave her a perplexed look.

"Okay to what?" She smiled, her beatific as she sat with him on her couch in the middle of the week.

"Anything. Everything. Whatever you want to do, I will be there with you." It was almost freeing to give up control of her happiness like that, but there was a big part of Brennan that knew Booth was the only one she would ever trust in that way. Her smile grew impossible wider as Booth just gaped at her in surprise. He recovered quickly though, and his surprise turned to smugness as he leaned towards her.

"Well, then. What I want to do is…" He leaned in further, and Brennan unconsciously licked her lips. He only stopped a hair's breadth from her face. She could feel the warm puffs of his breath drifting across her lips and chin. "…Go slow." He pulled back abruptly, and Brennan almost followed, before getting control of herself. She gave him a disbelieving look.

"What? Why? Haven't the past seven years been enough for you?" He smirked at her before his expression cleared to one that spoke of his seriousness.

"We can't mess this up, Bones. It's been so long in the making, and just falling into bed with each other is asking for trouble. I, for one need to be able to make sure that I can separate our personal and professional lives very well before we have sex. If I am unavoidably distracted with just the thought of being able to kiss you, how bad do you think it will be if I'm thinking about hw amazing we were the night before. I have to be able to keep us both safe, and that means going slow." He stopped, waiting for her argument. Brennan's face was considering, and finally she nodded.

"That is actually very rational, Booth. Upsetting the balance of our dynamic too much at once could have unforeseen consequences, and an adjustment period before we take that last step makes logical sense." Booth laughed.

"I thought I would have to fight you on this, Bones. I am so glad I didn't, because well, you totally would have won." Brennan joined him in his laughter, and the two collapsed back into the couch.

"Booth, are we telling everyone?" Brennan's question was hesitant, and Booth drew his arm around her firmly.

"Yes, Bones. I don't want to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, I am going to go to Hacker, and tell him that we have begun a romantic relationship. You can do the same with Cam, Angela, whoever you want. I don't really foresee it being a huge problem. We will likely have to fill out a mountain of disclaimers and paperwork, and see Sweets regularly, but I don't care." She nodded against his shoulder again.

"Good. I didn't want to keep you a secret either." The two leaned further together, and sat there in a comfortable silence for nearly an hour. Finally, Booth pulled away, and began to get up.

"I really need to get home, Bones. It's pretty late, and as much fun as this is, I need to be well-rested tomorrow." She nodded, and watched as he gathered his things. They walked to the door, and Booth turned just on the other side. The kiss he leaned back to press to her lips was short, but filled with the same emotion as the earlier ones, and as he pulled back, both their eyes sparkled. "I love you, Bones. Good night." She returned his smile, and his sentiment.

"I love you too, Booth. Please drive carefully. Good night." She waited until he had disappeared behind the door to the stairs before closing her own front door, and heading to her own room, still in shock at the changes that had take place that night. She was elated, and gratified to know that Booth really did feel the same way as her.

Twenty minutes later, lying in bed, she received a text message.

Bones—I know you worry. I'm home safe and sound. I'll see you tomorrow. B.


"...I've learned that we must look inside our hearts to find a world full of love, like yours, like mine, like home."-Home, from "The Wiz"